Category: English

To save Liam Walker, who fell from a high place while working on a power line, I disregarded my own safety and used my body as a cushion to break his fall. He ended up with just a few scratches, but the impact left me with serious internal injuries and a shattered right arm. Later, pressured by the town’s gossip about how he owed me his life, he was forced to marry me. But Liam never loved me. Once, when he was drunk, I heard his true thoughts. “If I knew I’d be shackled to Grace Harper for the rest of my life, I would have been better off falling to my death!” I felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath. Only then did I realize that for all those years, Liam never forgot his “one true love.” He even told our children about their epic romance behind my back. Even my own kids thought I was the villain who ruined their father’s true love, using a debt of gratitude to trap him. They dumped me in an empty nursing home to die of depression. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Liam climbed the utility pole to start work. This time, I didn’t save him. instead, I stood far, far away. In this life, I’ll let him get exactly what he wished for. Chapter 1 “Liam, this job is dangerous. Make sure your safety gear is secure!” “Yeah, Liam, that pole is over thirty feet high. Falling off would be no joke.” “Better slow than sorry!” Liam Walker was fully geared up, safety belt on his waist, climbing spikes on his boots, slowly making his way up. I was jolted awake by the shouting around me. It was like a fog clearing from my brain. Villagers stood all around. Unknowingly, I had walked to the base of the utility pole, staring at Liam who was already halfway up. My palms were sweating with nervousness. Seeing this incredibly familiar scene and hearing the familiar chatter… I quickly realized: I was reborn! I was back forty years in the past, back to the day I risked my life to be Liam’s human cushion! In my past life, to save Liam when he suddenly fell, I willingly used my body to catch him. With me as a cushion, Liam only suffered minor scrapes. But I had internal bleeding and a fractured right arm. Thanks to a timely rush to the hospital, I survived. Because of this life-saving act, a huge stir went through our small town. The neighbors knew Liam and I were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together, close as can be—a match made in heaven. Everyone gossiped, joking that “saving a life can only be repaid with marriage.” Under the pressure of public opinion, Liam chose to marry me. Only after marriage did I learn that he never loved me. On our wedding day, he hid in the power plant and called Sophia Vance on the landline, crying his heart out. “I’m sorry, Sophia. I can’t marry you in this life. If there is a next life, I will never let you down again.” I buried this secret deep in my heart and told no one. Although I knew he was forced to marry me, I believed that love could grow over time. I didn’t believe that decades of living together wouldn’t touch his heart. For forty years, I took care of Liam’s life with all my might. To let him work without worry, I took on all household matters, big and small. But it wasn’t until that drunken confession that I woke up from my dream. You can’t warm a stone. He had mentioned his love story with Sophia countless times to our children behind my back, never mentioning my sacrifices. This led the children to grow up blaming me for using a debt of gratitude to ruin their father’s true love. Thinking about it now, it’s ridiculous and pathetic. My thoughts were interrupted by a shout. “Hey everyone, look! Why is Liam coming down?” Chapter 2 Just then, Liam, who should have been climbing higher, suddenly turned back. In moments, he climbed down the pole. Seeing me standing below, he frowned slightly, looked at me with disgust, and instinctively distanced himself. “Supervisor, this gear is old. It was about to snap. Luckily I noticed in time, so I came down!” Before I could think, the crowd erupted in noise. Liam pulled with both hands, and the safety rope snapped. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, shaken. “Good thing I found it in time, or I would have really fallen!” He glanced at me, seemingly unintentional but full of sarcasm. “And then someone would have gotten a bargain again!” My heart skipped a beat. I knew exactly who “someone” was. It was laughable. In my past life, I nearly died saving him. And in Liam’s eyes, I “got a bargain”! It seemed I wasn’t the only one reborn. I sneered. “Then you better pray nothing else goes wrong!” I turned to go home, wanting to leave this troublesome place. Unexpectedly, Liam called out to me, ordering me to stay and watch him. Clearly, he was spooked by my comment. He stared at me with an ugly expression. “Grace Harper, where are you going? The work isn’t done. You stay under the pole. If something happens, it’s convenient for you to save me.” I turned around abruptly, staring at Liam’s self-righteous command, and laughed coldly. Having lived with him for forty years, I knew his psychology. In our past life, after that accident, Liam developed a phobia of heights. He was quickly transferred to a desk job at the plant and never climbed a pole again. Now, he was afraid something else would go wrong. If he fell again, having me there meant having a cushion! “There are so many people here, what is a grown man like you afraid of?” “If something really happens, there are plenty of people to save you. Do you really expect a small girl like me to catch you?” The crowd laughed, urging him to hurry up and restore the power. “Liam, we’re watching. You’ll be fine. Hurry up and fix the line, everyone’s waiting to start work!” Liam’s face turned extremely ugly. In the forty years of our past life, I never refused a single request of his. Now, reborn, the first time he opened his mouth, I mocked him mercilessly. As the town’s famous electrician, Liam had been respected his whole life. He had never been ridiculed like this. Frowning, he gritted his teeth and stared at me. “Fine, Grace. If you leave, don’t ever think of begging me to talk to you again in this life.” I acted like I didn’t hear him and walked away without looking back. He probably couldn’t imagine that right now, I wished for nothing more than to stay far away from him. Seeing me disappear into the crowd, Liam could only fume impotently. Finally, under the pressure of the crowd, he climbed the pole cautiously. After leaving, I rushed to the town post office. In my past life, I had successfully passed the college entrance exam. But because I saved Liam, I was in a coma for seven days and then recovering in the hospital. By the time I remembered, I rushed to the post office to get my admission letter, only to be told I had missed the enrollment deadline and was considered to have forfeited. And the spot had already been filled by someone else; it couldn’t be restored. In the end, I could only work as a temp at the power plant, mocked by Liam daily. Meanwhile, Sophia, who returned from college, quickly gained a foothold in the plant and was seen everywhere with Liam. I even knew many people secretly lamented that this golden couple was ruined by a useless weed like me. I argued and fought in my past life. In the end, Liam told me contemptuously: “If it weren’t for my connections, could you even be a temp at the plant?” “You want to compare yourself to Sophia? Are you worthy?” From that day on, I knew Liam never let go of Sophia. Even though I poured my heart out for him, it wasn’t enough. This time, I will fulfill his “true love” and let him have what he wants! Chapter 3 Arriving at the post office to claim my admission letter. The postmaster praised me to the skies. “You’re the only college student from our town this time. You’ve really done us proud!” He practically escorted me out on a pedestal. But I had a doubt in my heart. In my past life, wasn’t Sophia a college student too? How come I was the only one? But I didn’t dwell on it. When I got home and told my parents the good news, my dad was so excited he lit incense to thank the ancestors. Mom immediately prepared a feast and invited the neighbors in our alley. Liam’s house was in the same alley, less than twenty yards away. When he came back, he was still wearing his work clothes. His hand had a large gash, still bleeding. Mom saw it and told me to go home and get some styptic herbs and a towel. I really didn’t want to go. But I couldn’t resist Mom’s stern look. She was a doctor and ran a small clinic. She treated all the minor injuries and illnesses in the neighborhood. Reluctantly, I mashed some herbs in a mortar and applied them to Liam’s hand, wrapping it with a towel. Liam looked at me with a complicated expression. “I heard you got into college and got your admission letter?” I didn’t speak, just nodded. A look of nervousness and unease seemed to flash in Liam’s eyes. I thought he had found a conscience and recognized my excellence, but he immediately shouted: “You can’t go! Grace, I order you to give up this opportunity.” I stared at Liam like he was an idiot for a long time. He must still think we are living in the past life, in those forty years where I obeyed him blindly. I looked at him sarcastically, smiling coldly. “Why can’t I go? I worked hard to get into college, why should I give it up?” “Because Sophia has been waiting for this chance for a long time. As long as you give it up, I can push Sophia into the spot during the supplementary admission!” In that instant, I froze, trembling with rage. I have to say, once again, Liam’s words cut me to the core. So it was him. In my past life, he was the one who made me lose my chance at college. And I foolishly thought it was an accident and took care of him for a lifetime. All the emotions in my heart churned. I was such a fool. I should have guessed. In the past life, his salary was sixty dollars a month. He brought home less than half for living expenses, which wasn’t enough. Later, to lighten his burden, I worked as a temp. Only then did I learn that more than half of Liam’s money was sent away every month. Now it seems, most likely it was sent to Sophia, who was in college at the time. My voice squeezed out through clenched teeth. “Liam Walker, in the past life you caused me to miss college. This time you want me to give it up again? Keep dreaming! I won’t give this chance to anyone!” He kept a cold face, threatening me. “I am ordering you, not discussing with you. Grace, if you obey, I don’t mind marrying you again in this life.” “But if you insist on going against me, don’t blame me for disregarding our past life’s bond!” I bit the inside of my cheek until it was raw. The taste of blood filled my mouth. Forty years of marriage meant absolutely nothing. In his eyes, there was only Sophia! “Don’t worry. In this life, even if I never marry, I won’t marry you!” With that, I turned and left. Behind me, Liam kicked a chair in fury. “Fine! Grace, if you have the guts, don’t come crawling back to me!” I returned home with red eyes. Mom knew immediately I had fought with Liam. “Grace, don’t cry. Did you fight with Liam? I’m telling you, if you want to marry Liam later, you have to tolerate his temper now.” “No! I will never marry Liam in this life. Once I go to college, there will be plenty of men better than him!” In my past life, I was trapped by Liam. In this life, I won’t make the same mistake. Chapter 4 For a while after that day, I didn’t run into Liam. Sometimes if I saw him on the street, I would subconsciously dodge. I thought Liam would give up the stupid idea of making me drop out. But unexpectedly, he couldn’t persuade or threaten me, so he started playing dirty tricks behind my back. If I hadn’t gone to the post office to mail herbs for my mom, I wouldn’t have discovered Liam and Sophia’s scheme. They had just come out of the post office after mailing a letter. Sophia clung to Liam’s arm, blinking her big eyes, looking touched. “Liam, thank you so much. Otherwise, I would have really missed out on college this time.” Hearing this, my face went pale. I didn’t understand Sophia’s meaning at first. Wasn’t the admission spot mine? But listening to her, it sounded like Liam did something to give it to her? Liam smiled, speaking lovingly to Sophia. “Sophia, don’t worry. With me here, you will definitely go to college.” “But aren’t you afraid Grace will make a scene?” A sneer curled on his lips. “Why would she make a scene? A little kindness keeps her happy for days.” “Besides, worst case, I’ll just marry her. But Sophia, rest assured, the person I love most is definitely you!” “Even if I marry Grace, I’ll find a chance to divorce her when you finish college and come back!” Sophia was moved beyond words. They started kissing right there, oblivious to others. Hiding in the corner, I closed my eyes weakly. The grievances of the past life merged with the tears of this one. The bitter taste spread on my tongue. It turned out that forty years of devotion meant nothing to him. I could be dismissed with “a little kindness.” To let Sophia fulfill her college dream, he was willing to “sacrifice” himself to marry me! I watched them embrace and leave the post office. After a long while, I walked out of the alley carefully and went straight into the post office for answers. Luckily, many staff members recognized me from picking up my admission letter. As soon as I walked in, they spoke with regret. “Miss Harper, this is such a great opportunity. Why give up enrollment?” I froze for a second, then quickly replied. “I didn’t. I’ve been preparing for college.” “But someone just came with your household registry (Social Security/ID documents), claiming family reasons to forfeit your admission on your behalf. They mailed back the waiver and the recommendation for the supplementary spot.” At this moment, I finally knew what Liam was up to. As my husband in the past life, Liam knew my ID number. With his ability, forging documents was easy. Thinking of how he helped me drop out in the past life, he was undoubtedly familiar with the process in this one. As long as I “voluntarily” withdrew, he could use connections to recommend Sophia for my spot, smoothly taking my admission quota. The realization hit me like a club. Panicked, I grabbed the staff member’s hand. “That mail cannot go out! I want to go to college!” “And I have no relationship with him. He can’t make decisions for me. My documents are at home; his are forged!” Hearing that it involved forging government documents, the staff were terrified. They immediately intercepted the mail and called the police. Fortunately, the mail was stopped in time. When the police arrived, they asked me about the situation. Soon, sitting in the station lobby, I saw Liam and Sophia being brought in by officers. Sophia’s face had lost all color. Seeing me, Liam rushed over, practically pointing at my nose and scolding. “Grace, have you no shame? What did Sophia do to offend you that you accuse her of breaking the law?” I finally saw through this man. He really went to great lengths for Sophia. I snorted. “Whether laws were broken or not, the police will give us an answer. Saying more now won’t cover your guilt!” “Liam, don’t treat me like a fool!” His face changed instantly, eyes darting, fingers trembling. Seeing Sophia being taken in for questioning, he started playing the emotional card. “Grace, we can discuss things privately. No need to blow this up!” It was laughable. Accusing me one second, asking for private discussion the next. “Did you discuss privately with me when you forged my documents and forfeited my admission?” “Now you say no need to blow it up? On what grounds?” Almost simultaneously. The police called Liam’s name. “Liam Walker, please cooperate with the investigation.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389206”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the way to the airport, taking my whole family to the Florida Keys for New Year’s Eve, I idly scrolled through a social media forum and a post caught my eye. “My broke relative is insisting on tagging along to our oceanfront villa for the holidays, but we just want our own family time without outsiders. Should we let her stay?” I frowned, thinking how clueless that relative must be. Crashing a family’s private holiday reunion? The nerve. The top-voted comment was pure genius, and I found myself nodding in agreement. “Book her a cheap motel far away from your place. That way, she gets the message and can’t leech off you.” When we got to the airport terminal, I shook my head, shut off my phone, and felt a private surge of satisfaction. This time, at least, I was the one footing the entire bill. But when I met up with my family, the first thing they did was shove a phone into my hand, displaying the booking confirmation for a remote motel. I recognized the name of the place instantly. It was the same one my brother had mocked in our family group chat two nights ago, the one he said “even rats would avoid.” A tremor ran through me, but I told myself it had to be a joke. It wasn’t until they all went to the restroom that I checked my brother’s backpack. Tucked away in a hidden inner pocket was another key card. On it, printed in elegant script, were the words for the villa I had booked: “Seaview Holiday Estates.” 1 I gently slid the “Seaview Holiday Estates” key card back into the hidden pocket of my brother’s backpack. As my fingers brushed against the cold plastic, my heart turned to ice. So, the “broke relative” from that forum post… it was me. I had to fight to keep my face from twitching. Don’t lose it. Not yet. A few minutes later, my brother, Ben, and my parents, Helen and Robert, returned, laughing and chatting. Ben was holding two Starbucks cups; my parents had their own warm drinks. Only my hands were empty, standing guard over four massive suitcases. “Clara, what are you spacing out for?” Ben swung his backpack onto his shoulder. It was the latest Louis Vuitton model, a birthday gift I’d bought him just last month. He glanced at me. “You got Mom’s text with the booking, right? That motel is super trendy, has a great vibe. Plus, it’s close to the airport, so it’ll be easier for you to get over your jet lag.” I looked at him, and a wave of nausea washed over me. Jet lag? There was no time difference between here and the Keys. I swallowed the disgust and feigned confusion. “Ben, this motel… I think you mentioned it in the group chat. Didn’t you say it was a place even rats would avoid? Why book it for me?” Ben’s eyes darted away for a second. “Sis, you’re so behind the times,” he said, recovering smoothly. “It’s called brutalist chic. It’s the hottest new trend, like a rustic-luxe experience. I had to pull some strings just to get you a room.” I watched him lie without batting an eye and scoffed internally. Peeling paint is brutalist chic? Then I guess a garbage dump is post-modern installation art. Before I could retort, my mother, Helen, chimed in. “That’s right! That’s what it’s called! Think about it, Clara, the villas by the sea are so damp. You’ve had bad joints since you were a kid. I was worried you’d catch a chill, so we deliberately booked you somewhere further from the water. We did it because we love you.” You love me, so you put me in a fifty-dollar-a-night death trap while my brother stays in a villa that costs thousands? I turned to my father, Robert, the only person in the family who ever seemed to take my side. He avoided my gaze and pulled a small bottle of complimentary airport water from his pocket. “Clara, listen to your mother. Your brother was just trying to save some money, this trip is a big expense, after all. This water is warm, I got it just for you. Go on, drink up.” He handed me the bottle, his face a mask of fatherly affection. The bottle was warm in my hand, but it couldn’t warm my heart. Save money? The flights, the five-star villa, the food and activities for this trip—a cool ten thousand dollars—had all come out of my bank account. And I had transferred the money to Ben to manage. Now they were talking to me about saving money? I twisted the cap and took a sip. “Alright,” I said with a nod and a smile, but my eyes were glacial. “I’ll listen to you. I’ll stay there.” Ben and Helen exchanged a look of palpable relief. They thought I was still the same old pushover, the fool who would do anything for a crumb of affection. Too bad. That fool died the moment my fingers touched that key card. 2 The departure lounge was a cacophony of voices and announcements of delayed flights. We found a row of empty seats and sat down. Helen immediately started pulling snacks from her purse and offering them to Ben, terrified her precious son might starve. “Ben, have some of this jerky. I got the spicy kind, just for you.” “Ugh, Mom, no. It gets stuck in my teeth.” Ben pushed her hand away impatiently and went back to his phone. Helen wasn’t offended. She just smiled and started eating the jerky herself, never once thinking to offer me any. The scene was so familiar it was almost numbing. I stared at the half-empty bottle of warm water in my hand, my mind drifting back in time. The year I got into college, my family bought a few large Dungeness crabs to celebrate. It was the first time we’d ever eaten something so expensive. When they were served, Helen quickly piled the largest, meatiest ones onto Ben’s and my father’s plates. By the time she got to me, all that was left was a scrawny one with a missing leg. I didn’t think much of it and reached for it. But Helen tapped the back of my hand with her chopsticks. “Girls shouldn’t eat so much ‘cooling’ food, it’s bad for your body. The roe is especially bad. I’ll scoop it out for Ben, you can just eat the meat.” Without waiting for a reply, she broke the crab open, scraped out the meager amount of roe inside, and dumped it all into Ben’s bowl. He was only ten at the time, his mouth full and his face gleaming with oil. All I got were a few skinny legs with barely any meat. I cried myself to sleep that night. My father, Robert, quietly opened my door and slipped me a hard-boiled egg. “Clara, don’t be mad at your mom. She just means well. Dad boiled an egg for you, eat it while it’s warm.” I remembered that egg for years. I always thought it was a symbol of his love. Just like this bottle of warm water. “Hey, sis, gimme your power bank.” Ben’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He held out his hand expectantly, not even looking up from his phone. I glanced at the brand-new iPhone 15 Pro Max in his hand, another gift from me. I was still using a three-year-old model with a cracked screen. “It’s dead,” I said coldly. Ben looked up, stunned. “No way. You always bring two fully charged ones whenever we go anywhere. Hurry up, I’m about to lose this game!” His voice was a demanding whine. Helen chimed in from the side. “Clara, what’s the big deal? Just let your brother use it. It’s not like you play games, what do you need the battery for?” I clenched my phone, my knuckles turning white. “I said, it’s dead.” My voice was firm, and I stared directly into Ben’s eyes. He was taken aback by my glare, muttered “stingy,” and turned away. Robert stepped in to play peacemaker again. He patted my shoulder and whispered, “Clara, don’t fight with your brother. You know him, he’s still just a kid.” A twenty-five-year-old kid? More like a man-child. I looked at my father’s face, etched with feigned helplessness, and a fresh wave of disappointment washed over me. Your love, Dad, is worthless when it comes up against Ben’s wants. Just then, my phone buzzed. A text from my bank. A credit card alert for a pre-authorized charge of three hundred dollars. The location was a high-end restaurant right here in the airport. I looked up and saw Ben waving his phone at someone in the distance. Following his gaze, I saw a girl in a white dress pulling a pink suitcase, walking toward us. I knew who she was. It was Kathy, Ben’s girlfriend of three months, the one he claimed came from a very wealthy family. 3 Kathy was dressed head-to-toe in designer brands. The pink suitcase she was pulling was a limited-edition Rimowa. But the most ironic part was the Burberry scarf wrapped around her neck. I had just bought it for myself last week to wear for the holidays. It had vanished from my room two days ago. Helen told me a rat probably got it. I never realized rats grew to be this big. “Helen! Robert! Ben!” Kathy called out sweetly. My mother’s face blossomed into a wide grin as she grabbed Kathy’s hand. “Kathy, dear, you’re here! You must be tired. Sit, sit!” Ben was even more attentive, kicking my suitcase aside to make room for her. “Babe, I missed you so much.” The two of them started cuddling as if no one else was there. “Oh, Clara, you’re here too,” Kathy said, as if just noticing me, her voice dripping with fake surprise. She adjusted the scarf around her neck. “Yeah,” I said, my eyes fixed on it. Kathy seemed to notice my gaze and smiled. “Your mom is just the sweetest. She said this color looked so good on me that she insisted I take it. You don’t mind, do you, sis?” I looked at Helen. She avoided my eyes, mumbling, “Oh, that old thing. Clara barely wore it. It looks so much better on you, Kathy, so I just gave it to her.” I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “Of course. My old rags look perfect on you.” Kathy’s face fell. Ben shot to his feet, pointing a finger at me. “Clara! What the hell is that supposed to mean? What’s your problem? Kathy is our guest!” “A guest?” I sneered. “If she’s a guest, who bought her plane ticket? Who’s paying for her room?” The three-hundred-dollar charge on my card was still fresh on my phone screen. Ben looked guilty for a second but puffed out his chest. “Kathy paid her own way! And besides, so what if we spend a little money? It’s not like our family can’t afford it!” Sensing the escalating tension, Robert quickly grabbed Ben and shot me a warning look. “Clara, that’s enough. It’s the holidays, don’t make a scene.” “Fine. I won’t say another word.” I sat back down and closed my eyes. Beside me, Kathy linked her arm through Helen’s and asked, seemingly innocently, “So, Helen, is the villa big? Will there be enough room for all of us?” Helen patted her hand, her voice full of affection. “Don’t you worry, dear, it’s huge! Three large bedrooms. Your uncle and I will take one, Ben gets another, and we saved the last one—the master suite with the best view—especially for you!” My eyes snapped open. So that was it. The rooms had been assigned long before we even left. “Oh, but what about Clara?” Kathy asked, feigning concern. “Isn’t she staying at the villa? Is it because I’m here that she…” “Don’t be silly!” Helen cut her off, her tone self-righteous. “Your sister… she’s looking for an experience! She said the villas are too noisy, so she specifically chose a rustic-luxe motel to get back to nature. Right, Clara?” She stared at me, her eyes flashing a clear warning. I looked right back at her, the last thread of affection in my heart snapping. “That’s right,” I said, a slow smile spreading across my face. “Since Mom arranged everything so thoughtfully, I should definitely go and have the full experience.” “After all, you picked this special place just for me.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389222”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The holiday rush was on, and I had just finished a simple withdrawal at the bank when I noticed it. The amount on my passbook didn’t match the crisp stack of bills in my hand. I double-checked the passbook printout against the fifty thousand dollars in cash I held. Fifty thousand. Red-inked, fresh from the vault, still smelling faintly of new currency. I turned and walked back to the counter, tapping lightly on the thick glass to get the attention of the teller who had served me. I held up the receipt. “Excuse me, but I think you made an error on this transaction.” Tiffany Miller—I remembered her name from the tag—snapped her head up, her face already tight with defensiveness. She pointed a perfectly manicured nail at the wall behind me. “Did you not see the sign? Cash must be verified at the counter. We are not responsible for discrepancies once you leave the window. Don’t you know that policy?” I quickly waved a hand. “No, wait, it’s not that. Look closely. I withdrew fifty thousand, but your system registered it as a deposit for fifty thousand.” She cut me off, her eyes never meeting mine, already dismissive. “The form you signed clearly states, ‘No Liability After Leaving the Counter.’ Did you not sign the slip? Did you not confirm the amount?” She gave a theatrical sigh for the benefit of the busy line behind me. “If every customer who walked out the door could come back and claim they were shorted, do you think we’d just pay them? Get real.” I froze. Now I understood her immediate aggression. She thought I was trying to claim I was short, that I was trying to get money back. But my problem wasn’t a shortage. It was an extra $100,000 in my account. … “Are you going to stand there all day? Can’t you take a hint?” Tiffany continued, filing a nail with one hand while speaking into the desk microphone. “We have people waiting. Have some class.” A security guard near the door started to amble in our direction. I actually started to laugh. Seriously. In all my life, this was the first time I’d ever tried to voluntarily give money back to a bank and been treated like a lunatic to be swept out the door. I wasn’t giving up, though. I pushed the transaction slip a little further into the glass tray. “Teller 733,” I said, my voice measured. “I’m asking you one last time. If the bank’s operational error results in a monetary discrepancy, are you still ‘not responsible for any discrepancies once I leave the window?’” Tiffany didn’t even glance at the paper. She didn’t have the decency to lift her eyelids. “Are you a broken record?” she scoffed. “Did you not read the giant sign on the wall? The second you walk away from this window, whether the money is right or wrong is your problem. That is the rule. Get it? The rule!” She emphasized the last word, her face a picture of arrogant superiority, as if the bank was a personal franchise she owned. I took a deep breath, and then I nodded slowly. “Fine,” I said. “You heard her.” “The rules are the rules. People are flexible, but I will abide by your rule.” I pulled the slip back, folded it neatly, and slipped it into the inside pocket of my coat. Tiffany snickered, loud enough to be heard over the mic. “The cheap ones always cause the most drama. Security, keep an eye on her. Don’t let her come back and cause a scene.” The guard gave me a slight push. “Move along, ma’am. Don’t hold up the line.” I let myself be guided out of the gilded bank lobby. Outside, I glanced down at the black plastic bank bag in my hand. Inside was the fifty thousand I thought I was withdrawing. Then I pulled out the passbook. Flipped to the last page. The printed black font was perfectly clear: [Deposit: $50,000.00] [Balance: $150,000.00] I had started the day with a balance of $100,000. My intention was to withdraw fifty. Tiffany, in her brilliant, self-assured stupor, had mistakenly processed it as a deposit. I looked back at the bank’s imposing, bronze doors. And at the prominent metal plaque right next to them: CASH MUST BE VERIFIED AT THE COUNTER. WE ARE NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR DISCREPANCIES ONCE YOU LEAVE THE WINDOW. I used to think those eight words were the definition of corporate arrogance. Now, they looked like the sweetest, most charming piece of fine print in the world. If they wanted to play by the rules, I would play by their rules. I didn’t go home. Going home to sleep would have been the action of a fool. The bank’s internal system was slow, but it would eventually catch up. The moment Tiffany realized the accounts wouldn’t reconcile, the first thing she would do was flag and freeze my account. I was in the right, yes, but fighting a bank in court could drag on for a year, and I didn’t have the resources for a drawn-out battle. I walked directly to the commercial bank next door. I pulled the fifty thousand cash out of the bag. “I’d like to deposit this, please.” The teller—a smiling woman named Claire—processed it in minutes. The fifty grand was now in an account at a different institution. But that wasn’t enough. I pulled out my phone and opened the mobile app for the first bank, Pacific Coast Financial. I stared at the $150,000 balance for a beat. No hesitation. I hit the “Transfer All” button. The money went straight into my brokerage account, a third-party managed fund. That money was now under the jurisdiction of the Securities and Exchange Commission. The bank wanted to freeze it? The paperwork would be a nightmare that would take them days to sort out. By the time they completed the process, I could have liquidated it and bought gold bars to bury in my backyard. Only after I finished did I notice my stomach rumbling. I found a quiet diner and sat down for a late lunch. Halfway through my grilled cheese sandwich, my phone started vibrating. Unknown number. A local landline. I already knew who it was. I didn’t answer. The vibration stopped, then started again. Stopped. Started. A persistent, high-pitched plea. I wasn’t avoiding it because I was scared. I was eating. Taking calls while eating ruins digestion. Especially when the call is just a hysterical dog barking. I finished the last bite of my sandwich and let out a satisfied sigh. The phone was still ringing—now from a different cell number. I slowly pulled a napkin to wipe my mouth, then hit the “Accept” button. Before I could even say hello, Tiffany Miller’s voice tore through the speaker, raw and hysterical. “Elena Ross! You absolute bitch! Do you have a death wish? Get that money back here! Now! Immediately! I said NOW!” I didn’t flinch. I picked up a toothpick and started cleaning my molars, my voice completely flat. “Who is this?” “Don’t play dumb! It’s the bank! The teller who helped you this afternoon!” Tiffany’s voice was shaking. She sounded terrifyingly close to a breakdown. “Oh, it’s you,” I said, with deliberate nonchalance. “Is there a problem, Teller 733?” “Stop messing around! I made a mistake this afternoon! I gave you extra money—no, I deposited it wrong! You need to bring it back immediately, or I’m calling the police! That’s a hundred thousand dollars! It’s a huge amount! If I report you, you’re going to prison!” I held the phone away from my ear until her screeching subsided. “Sweetheart, are you sure you have the right person?” I finally said, leaning back. “I distinctly remember confirming the transaction with you this afternoon. You were very clear. You said: ‘We are not responsible for discrepancies once you leave the window.’” Tiffany went silent for a beat. Then she exploded again, even more frantic. “That was just something I said in the heat of the moment! Don’t use that against me! I’m telling you, Elena Ross, that bank money is not yours to take! That’s unjust enrichment! It’s a felony!” I chuckled. “Funny. I have a great appetite, and I can handle everything that’s coming to me.” I put the toothpick down. “Since you’re calling it a felony, please, go ahead and call the police. Tell them to come and arrest me.” I ended the call right there. And blocked the number. Did they want the money back? Then they should learn how to ask. That arrogant, commanding tone was not how one negotiated with a person who held all the cards. I could tolerate a lot of things. But I wouldn’t tolerate being bullied. The next morning, I went to work as usual. As soon as I entered the ground-floor lobby of my company building, I saw a crowd gathered near the reception desk. Standing in the center was Tiffany Miller. She hadn’t bothered with makeup today, and she looked haggard. Beside her stood a middle-aged man in a sharp suit: Mr. Victor Sloan, the branch manager. I had seen him before, pacing the bank floor like a small-time feudal lord inspecting his territory. Adding to the circus were two police officers. Tiffany spotted me the moment I walked in. Like a starving wolf sighting prey, she let out a shriek and lunged toward me. “That’s her! That’s the thief!” “Officers, arrest her now!” She rushed me so fast she almost ran right into my chest. I sidestepped swiftly. She missed, stumbled, and nearly face-planted on the polished marble floor. The commotion instantly silenced the entire lobby. It was peak commuting time. Coworkers entering and exiting froze in their tracks. Even the young woman at the reception desk covered her mouth in shock. “What’s going on? Who said Ellie stole money?” “No way, Ellie’s always been so quiet.” “You never know what people are capable of. The bank is here—it must be true.” The whispers buzzed around like a swarm of flies. Tiffany righted herself and pointed a finger that nearly touched the bridge of my nose. “Elena Ross! Have you no shame? You took the bank’s money and thought you could hide! You can’t! In front of all these people, give the money back, apologize, and we’ll drop this. Otherwise, I will make sure you never work in this city again!” Mr. Sloan straightened his suit jacket and stepped forward. His expression was all business and feigned propriety. “Ms. Ross, is it?” he asked smoothly. “I’m the bank manager.” “Yesterday afternoon, due to an operational anomaly on our employee’s part, your account experienced an unusual credit. This is legally considered unjust enrichment.” He held up a sleek document. “We have a formal demand letter here. We hope you’ll cooperate and return the funds. If not, we are compelled to pursue mandatory recourse.” He spoke with polished corporate malice. He blamed an “operational anomaly,” and threatened “mandatory recourse.” He conveniently omitted any mention of Tiffany’s behavior yesterday. The older police officer walked closer, looking between Mr. Sloan and me. “You’re Elena Ross?” I nodded. “I am.” “The bank is claiming illegal appropriation of funds. Is this true?” Before I could answer, Tiffany shrieked, “It is! We have surveillance! She knew the money was wrong and still took it! That’s theft! That’s fraud!” I looked at her coldly. “Tiffany, I suggest you watch your language. What did I steal?” “The money was passed to me from the teller window.” “The slip was printed and signed by me according to procedure.” “Every step of the process was compliant and legal. How is that theft?” Tiffany was shaking with rage. “You knew it was wrong! You came back and asked! That proves you were aware! Knowing you were wrongly credited and walking away with it is a crime!” I laughed. I laughed loud enough that everyone in the lobby looked at me in confusion. “That’s right, I came back and asked,” I confirmed, smiling thinly. “I was kind enough to point out a potential error in the transaction.” “And what did you say to me?” I pulled out my phone. I located the recording and maximized the volume. The lobby fell into an immediate, stunned silence. Only Tiffany’s shrill, callous voice echoed through the high ceilings. [“Did you not see the sign? We are not responsible for discrepancies once you leave the window.”] [“The form you signed clearly states, ‘No Liability After Leaving the Counter.’ Did you not sign the slip?”] [“If every customer who walked out the door could come back and claim they were shorted, do you think we’d just pay them? Get real.”] The recording was brief, but it was devastating. Tiffany’s face instantly drained of color, turning a sickly, pasty white. Mr. Sloan’s face went dark. He shot Tiffany a ferocious glare. Clearly, she had omitted this crucial part of the conversation when reporting the incident to him. The spectators erupted in murmurs. “Holy hell, the bank actually said that?” “She sounds awful.” “‘No liability after leaving the counter’? That’s the oldest racket in the book.” “I was shorted five hundred dollars once, and they used that exact line to shut me down!” “So now they give too much, and they want it back? Hypocrites!” The tide of public opinion instantly reversed. The people who were just moments ago judging me were now glaring at the bank representatives. I turned off the recording and looked at Mr. Sloan. “Did you hear that, Mr. Sloan?” “Your own employee told me—repeatedly—that once I left the counter, the bank was not responsible.” “That is your policy. That is your iron-clad rule.” “I, Elena Ross, am a law-abiding citizen. Since your bank policy states you are not responsible for the error, the money is legally mine. If I return it now, wouldn’t I be forcing Ms. Miller to violate her own bank’s rules?” Tiffany lunged forward, trying to grab my phone. “You’re taking that out of context! You can’t record me without my permission! That’s illegal!” I took an easy step back. “Officers, did you hear that?” I asked the police. “The bank demands accountability for everyone but themselves. Is the law only for the little people?” The older officer frowned. He took the demand letter from Mr. Sloan and looked at it, then listened again to the recording on my phone. He handed the letter back. “Mr. Sloan, this is complicated.” “Since there was a verbal agreement between parties beforehand, even if that agreement violates the spirit of the law, it is a recorded fact.” “Furthermore, the funds were transferred through a regular, verifiable counter procedure. This is not theft, and it is not robbery.” “This is a civil contract dispute. It is not under the jurisdiction of the police department.” “You’ll have to take this to court.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389238”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My newlywed husband and I time-traveled back three years. At that time, my boyfriend was still his best friend. He looked at me with a cold face: “Break up with him. I won’t be the other man.” I smiled at him heartlessly: “You’re too optimistic. Forget about being the other man, you wouldn’t even be number five in line.” 1 Without warning. My newlywed husband, Caleb Vance, and I time-traveled together. But the timing was terrible. We landed right when my boyfriend at the time was taking me to meet his bros. The moment the private room door opened. My boyfriend, Julian Zhou, had his hand on my shoulder, while my new husband, Caleb Vance, was sitting on the sofa, staring coldly at the two of us. “…” Just one look. I knew clearly that he had time-traveled too. After all, the old Caleb would never look at me like that. He was always aloof and arrogant. So arrogant that he could ignore everything around him, including me, who was his best friend’s girlfriend at the time. If his relationship with Julian wasn’t solid enough, he wouldn’t even have attended this gathering. But this situation was tricky… On the surface, I was Julian’s girlfriend, but in reality, I was also Caleb’s newlywed wife from three years in the future. What should I do? Before I could come up with a plan, the room erupted in cheers. Someone excitedly rushed forward and punched Julian on the shoulder: “You kid, not bad!” “No wonder you were hiding her, your girlfriend is gorgeous.” “No way, you have to treat us tonight! You’re treating from now on, single dogs like me can’t stand seeing you lovebirds being so sweet.” Julian accepted all the teasing with a smile. His hand on my shoulder tightened slightly as he comforted me: “Don’t mind them, they just love to mess around. Come, let me introduce you to my best friend—” My feet felt like lead. I was forced to stand in front of Caleb. Julian’s face was full of joy: “Caleb, like I told you, this is my girlfriend, Harper He.” I was so awkward I didn’t dare look at Caleb’s face, keeping my head down as I extended my hand: “Hello.” It took a long, long time for that hand to shake mine back. A very light grip. Fleeting, yet full of pressure and burden for me. Julian seated me next to Caleb and whispered: “You sit here, I’ll go greet the others first. Don’t be afraid, if you need anything, ask Caleb, he’ll take care of you for me.” After saying that, Julian threw out a “Thanks, Caleb,” and turned to leave. Only Caleb and I were left on the long sofa. The atmosphere froze. I silently did some mental preparation. Actually, there was no need to be scared. Caleb might not necessarily guess that I traveled back too. Just pretend nothing happened and follow the timeline. After all, I am currently Julian’s girlfriend, and the marital relationship with Caleb can be pushed back three years, so there’s really no need to— “Where did you put the tie you used to blindfold me last night?” Caleb said. “I couldn’t find it this morning.” I froze, subconsciously answering: “I think it’s on the sofa.” Caleb chuckled low: “Got it.” “…” I realized belatedly, I think I just got played by Caleb! 2 A more difficult situation arose. Under the premise that both parties knew we shared a bed just last night, how could I continue to pretend to be Julian’s girlfriend as if nothing happened? Caleb’s advice was simple: “Break up.” I protested in a low voice: “He and I are still in the honeymoon phase, how could he accept a cliff-like breakup!” I remember this gathering happened when I had been dating Julian for six months. Not long ago was his birthday. That day, he held me and made a wish sincerely: “Baby, would you be willing to meet my friends? Everyone knows I’m dating, but no one knows who my girlfriend is, not even my best friend. I want to introduce you to them, can you fulfill this wish for me?” I was bewitched and finally agreed. Caleb said indifferently: “You’re going to break up sooner or later anyway.” True. My relationship with Julian was destined to end in a breakup. But does a love with a bad ending mean the process can’t be enjoyed? I shook my head: “Not breaking up yet.” “Then what about me?” Caleb asked. To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it either. If Caleb and I were a deeply affectionate, inseparable newlywed couple, then abandoning Julian to choose him would be the natural course of action. But the problem was, we weren’t. A flash marriage, taking what we needed from each other. I shouldn’t have to be responsible for Caleb now, three years before we had any relationship, right? Caleb sneered: “Harper, good for you.” “Wait wait wait!” I subconsciously grabbed him, pleading softly, “Let me think about it.” I indeed didn’t need to be responsible for Caleb three years ago. But what if we travel back? Traveling here was without warning, what if one day we travel back without warning… facing the newlywed husband Caleb then, wouldn’t I be dead meat? I pondered for a long time and made up my mind: “I will break up, but you have to give me some time.” Caleb: “Heh.” While we were talking, the protagonist of the night, Julian, returned. He didn’t sit between Caleb and me, but instead put his arm around my shoulder, leaning over me to talk to Caleb. This posture. Instead, it pulled the distance between him and me closer. Julian wasn’t behaving while talking either, occasionally winking at me, his face full of happy smiles. Caleb looked over several times. Probably finding it an eyesore, he finally couldn’t bear it anymore, stood up and said: “Change seats.” Seats rearranged. Caleb sat in the very middle. Julian didn’t mind and continued talking to him about the gossip he just heard. Bored, I started peeling lychees from the fruit platter. One after another. The flesh was plump and juicy, I couldn’t stop eating. Suddenly, I felt a light touch on the skin of my outer thigh. My skirt was short. The touch of cool fingertips sliding across my skin spread绵绵 to the bottom of my heart. I looked up and met Caleb’s eyes. Taking advantage of Julian drinking water, he mouthed silently: “Eating so much? Forgot who was crying about a stomachache last time?” I shivered. I didn’t dare eat the one I just peeled. Unknown when, Julian came over, bit the lychee off my fingertips, and sat down beside me carelessly. Mumbling with his mouth full: “Lychees peeled by wifey are the sweetest!” The atmosphere stagnated. For some reason, I didn’t dare look at Caleb’s eyes. …What is this feeling of having an affair on both sides! I was really scared of this Shura field (complex relationship drama), racking my brains to think of a countermeasure. Before I could think of one. Caleb beside me spoke first, his voice cold: “Who is your wifey?” 3 Julian froze, the expression on his face went blank. He swallowed the lychee flesh whole, looking like he wanted to explain, but opened his mouth without saying anything. I hurriedly stood up to control the situation: “Me! I am his wifey, he’s calling me!” Caleb and Julian looked over at the same time. Especially Caleb’s gaze, so cold it could flay me alive. I clenched my palms, withstanding the pressure to look back: “Is there a problem?” Julian smiled: “No problem, baby.” He even had the mind to explain to me: “Caleb is a more traditional person, we haven’t confirmed a marital relationship, so me calling you wifey unauthorized probably seems inappropriate to him. He has no malice.” Saying that, Julian even threw a teasing look at Caleb across the air: “Come on man, why are you managing our couple’s business.” Caleb’s face turned even darker. Afraid he would say something shocking, I quickly stood up: “Suddenly remembered something, I might have to go first.” Julian held my hand: “What is it?” I recalled the situation I might have been in three years ago and made up a lie: “My advisor said there’s a problem with my thesis!” “Then I’ll take you there,” Julian said immediately, standing up. I was terrified: “That’s not necessary, right?” “Silly baby?” Julian pinched my face intimately, “Your laptop is still at my place, how is it not necessary.” This time I was really silly. After all, I really didn’t remember what happened three years ago today, let alone my laptop being at Julian’s place. I could only bite the bullet and go along: “Haha, look at my brain, hahaha…” “Silly piggy.” Julian said goodbye to everyone, paid the bill, and held my hand walking to the parking lot. My phone dinged. At the top was an unread message from an unknown number. A simple and clear question mark: [?] I felt inexplicably guilty, knowing at a glance it was from Caleb. While worrying about how to reply, Julian brought a bottle of water, unscrewed it and handed it to me: “Are you okay? Is it tiring today?” My body wasn’t tired, but my heart was super tired! I got a headache just thinking about the situation just now. I smiled awkwardly: “It’s okay.” “Looks like meeting the parents has to be pushed back,” Julian said with a smile, “My parents have been saying they want to meet you, I’ve pushed it back several times.” Looking at Julian’s profile, I inexplicably connected it to the reason for our breakup. This meeting with the parents was the fuse. Julian’s parents were very kind, and there was no deliberate difficulty at the dinner table. But they informed Julian that he needed to stay abroad for a few years after graduation, firstly to gain knowledge, and secondly to open up overseas markets for the company. They hoped I would go with Julian. For this, they could cover my tuition, living expenses, and all other costs, on the condition that I must be with Julian. At that time, I guessed that Julian and his parents might have reached some kind of deal. Probably because of me, Julian had requested not to go abroad, so his parents compromised and allowed Julian to bring me along as his girlfriend. But I didn’t want to go abroad. Especially this kind of going abroad purely as an accessory. I had just received an offer from a top domestic company, my dreams were about to set sail, the future was bright, there was really no need to give up just like that. So I refused. Conflicts began to appear between Julian and me. There were no arguments, Julian couldn’t argue with me. He just humbly requested, hoping I could make some changes for him and this relationship. After seeing my hard-heartedness, he finally chose to give in, claiming that a long-distance relationship was also fine, and he would fly back often to see me in the future. But I already felt bad then. Probably after rational analysis, I felt I didn’t love him that much, so I broke up with him before he went abroad. Julian’s fingertip suddenly poked my dimple: “What are you thinking about? You didn’t answer when I called your name.” I started, answering casually: “Thinking about meeting the parents.” Surprise burst into Julian’s eyes: “Really! Baby, are you really willing to accompany me to meet my parents? God, I’m so happy!” He grabbed me and pulled me into his arms, stroking my head and murmuring: “Baby, how are you so good!” I thought, actually I’m not good at all. Just as I wanted to push him away, the car window beside me was knocked. Caleb’s handsome and elegant face appeared in my line of sight. He curved his lips in a light smile, polite and courteous: “Sorry to disturb, can I hitch a ride?” “…” 4 Caleb said he left something at Julian’s place, so he had to go there with us. Julian didn’t suspect anything and let him in immediately. In the car, they chatted happily. While my phone received messages from Caleb non-stop. [You guys hugged?] [If I wasn’t there, what else were you planning to do?] [Did I ruin your good time?] [Harper He, this is cheating!] [How could you cheat right in front of my face?] [Speak!] A message every few minutes, as if sent on a timer. I ignored him. Just like that, we stalemated all the way to Julian’s house. The laptop was indeed at his place. Only then did I remember that my laptop had a small glitch before. I originally wanted to send it to a repair shop, but Julian said he could handle it, so the laptop was sent to Julian’s house. But Caleb obviously thought wrong. He lowered his head and started being sarcastic again: [So sweet!] I really couldn’t hold it back and replied to him: [Hehe.] Caleb instantly went silent. There was no reason to stay longer after getting the laptop, plus I didn’t want to stay in this chaotic situation, so I stood up to say goodbye to Julian. Julian immediately said: “I’ll send you back to school.” “Let me send her,” Caleb said, “I’m going back to the Songpu house, it’s on the way.” I found Caleb an eyesore, retorting: “You hitchhiked here yourself, how can you send me?” Caleb laughed: “The driver has been following behind.” “…” Julian probably really trusted Caleb, raising no objections at all. Only when sending us to the entrance, as if suddenly remembering something, he wondered aloud: “Didn’t you say you left something at my place, what was it?” Caleb casually picked up a crystal ornament at the entrance. “Didn’t I say I’d give it to you before? I came to get this.” Only after getting into Caleb’s car did my tense nerves relax somewhat. But Caleb’s performance was really bad, I couldn’t help scolding: “Can’t you restrain yourself a bit? What if he finds out?” “Find out what? That you are my wife?” Caleb sneered, “I’ve only heard of the mistress needing to hide, this is the first time I’ve heard of the husband needing to hide.” “But this is three years ago!” I couldn’t help reiterating, “In the present, in this relationship, you are the mistress.” “Then break up with him,” Caleb said, “I won’t be the other man.” “It’s not up to you whether you want to or not.” I muttered softly, “I still want to go back, I still want to go back alone, but is it useful for me to want it?” Caleb glanced at me sideways. I stopped talking. Silently, I thought about the trigger for traveling here. It really was without warning. I was shopping in the supermarket when I accidentally met Julian who returned from abroad. Reunited with an old friend, I said awkwardly: “What a coincidence.” He stared into my eyes: “You married Caleb?” This wasn’t a secret, so I nodded again. His face became extremely ugly instantly, he stepped forward, grabbed my wrist tightly, and pulled me out: “Do you know what kind of person Caleb is? You married him? You don’t understand him at all, he’s not the gentle and polite noble son you imagine, he—” I struggled with all my might. My heart and eyes were full of breaking free from his hand. Didn’t notice what he said, nor did I notice when the scene beside me changed. The surroundings were no longer the crowded supermarket, but the empty corridor of the clubhouse. Julian wasn’t cold-faced, instead he was coaxing me with a grin: “Baby, you’ll see my friends soon, nervous? Don’t worry, my friends are all very nice people, especially Caleb, he has always taken care of me, you will definitely like him.” I looked at everything in front of me with suspicion and surprise, even forgetting to break free from Julian’s hand. Until the private room door opened in front of me. Until the cold Caleb appeared in front of me. Only then was I dazed, did I time travel? “Do you have a way to travel back?” “Can you keep some distance from Julian?” Two voices sounded at the same time. I recalled what Caleb just said in my mind, a bit broken. Whatever. At a time like this, the pig teammate is still considering this kind of thing? I said indignantly: “If we don’t travel back soon, I guarantee I’ll give you a green hat!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389255”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

It was 1:00 AM when I scrolled past a frantic post on the local city subreddit, r/MetroCity. u/Caleb_In_Transit: [Help. I’ve been on the Blue Line for an hour and it hasn’t stopped.] u/NightOwl: [? Fun fact: The train has to actually arrive at a station for you to get off.] u/TrollPatrol: [OP is probably dreaming. Go back to sleep.] u/Caleb_In_Transit: [I’m not sleeping! I know how subways work! The next stop is usually four minutes away. It’s been twenty minutes since the last stop!] u/SubwaySurfer: [Maybe a signal malfunction? Stay put. Which train are you on? I’ll call transit authority.] u/Caleb_In_Transit: [I’m on the southbound Blue Line, heading downtown.] I stared at the latest reply and froze. I was on the southbound Blue Line, heading downtown. 1 I checked the time on my phone. 1:11 AM. It had been eleven minutes since I boarded. The Blue Line is the busiest, most reliable artery in the city. Trains run frequently, and the stops are close together. Going this long without slowing down wasn’t just odd—it was impossible. If I hadn’t seen that Reddit post, buried in my phone, I might not have even noticed. I typed a reply with trembling fingers: u/RileyWorkz: [OP, which car are you in? I think I’m on the same train.] The reply came instantly. u/Caleb_In_Transit: [Last car. Rear of the train. I like the privacy.] u/RileyWorkz: [Don’t move. I’m coming to you.] 2 Three minutes later, I met the OP in the rear car. His name was Caleb. He looked like a typical college sophomore—varsity jacket, messy hair, looking scared out of his mind. “Thank God, thank God. I thought I was the only living person left.” Caleb clutched his chest, exhaling sharply. “You have no idea. When I realized the train wasn’t stopping, especially at 1 AM… I thought I was losing it. I thought I clipped into the Backrooms or something.” “Okay, let’s not panic,” I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt. I looked at Caleb’s clear, terrified eyes. Definitely a student. He posted on Reddit instead of calling 911 because that’s just how Gen Z handles crises. “Let’s call 911.” Another few minutes passed. No deceleration. No station lights blurring past the windows. Just black. It had to be a malfunction. I dialed 911. “We’re sorry, the number you have reached is not in service.” The automated voice made my blood run cold. Not “call failed.” Not “no signal.” Not in service? 911 is always in service. I hung up, checked the number, and dialed again. “We’re sorry, the number you have reached is not in service.” “We’re sorry, the number you have reached is not in service.” I tried five times. Same result. Caleb swallowed hard. “Riley… did you… did you dial the wrong number?” “You think I messed up three digits five times in a row?” My voice cracked. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. “Maybe it’s your carrier. Verizon sucks in tunnels,” Caleb said, slapping his forehead. He pulled out his iPhone. “I’ll try.” He put it on speaker. “We’re sorry, the number you have reached is not in service…” “NOT IN SERVICE NOT IN SERVICE NOT IN—!!!!!!” A piercing, electronic shriek erupted from the speaker. Caleb dropped his phone as if it were burning hot. “Riley… my… did my phone just scream at me?” I gripped the metal handrail. I’m only three years older than him, just a corporate drone who’s been grinding at a marketing firm for a year. I am not equipped for this. “Maybe,” I stammered. “Check the Reddit thread. See what people are saying.” Caleb scrambled to pick up his phone. u/UnluckyDuck: [Another victim? Seriously?] u/TransitNerd: [Wait, the Blue Line shuts down for maintenance at 12:30 AM tonight. There shouldn’t be any trains running.] u/HorrorFan99: [OP hasn’t posted in a while. RIP.] u/ConspiracyKev: [I’ve read about this on creepypasta forums. They’ve entered a slip-space. Probably dodging zombies or ghosts right now.] “…Your priority right now is to delete every horror app on your phone,” I deadpanned. Caleb pointed at the conspiracy comment, eyes wide. “You don’t think he’s right, do you?” I pointed to comment #87. “Probably not. Look, this guy says he called for help for us.” u/StubbornTurnip: [Don’t panic guys. I called the transit authority. They said they’re troubleshooting a system error.] u/Caleb_In_Transit: [Sorry to ask, but what number did you call? We tried 911 and the emergency line on the wall, both dead.] u/StubbornTurnip: [555-0199] “What the hell?” Caleb cursed. “The emergency sticker right there says 555-0188.” “No wonder we couldn’t get through.” “This whole city is held together by duct tape and prayers,” I muttered. Just like my boss, asking me to rewrite a pitch deck at midnight, leading me to be on this godforsaken train. Thinking we were about to be rescued, the tension broke. We ignored the screeching noise from earlier. We ignored the fact that physics didn’t make sense. 3 Bzzt… Bzzt… The intercom crackled to life. “Are there two passengers currently trapped on board?” Caleb, who had been slumping against the door, jumped up like a golden retriever. “Yes! Yes! Oh my god, you’re finally here!” The voice on the intercom was calm, almost mechanical. “We apologize for the terrible experience.” “We are initiating an emergency stop sequence. Once you disembark, walk forward 550 yards along the track. You will see the platform.” I frowned. “Can’t you just pull into the station?” The voice replied instantly. “Apologies. The train’s braking system has failed. We cannot align with the platform.” “Whatever, just open the doors!” Caleb yelled. “I just want to go home and sleep.” “Understood. Initiating emergency stop. Please brace yourselves.” The train shuddered violently. The lights died. “Holy—!” When the emergency lights flickered on, Caleb and I were sprawled on the floor. “Ouch.” I stood up, dusting off my blazer. The train had stopped. Ding. The doors slid open. “You may exit. Remember, walk forward to the platform.” That was the last thing the voice said. “Let’s go,” Caleb said, hopping down onto the tracks. I looked out. The tunnel was pitch black. Endless. And there was no wind. Subway tunnels always have a draft. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Caleb, check the thread. Any new updates?” “Now? We’re saved. Let’s just walk.” “Just check. Tell them we’re safe.” “Fine.” Caleb pulled out his phone. “Hey… wait.” “Don’t just stand there, walk and type.” I stepped one foot out of the train. The moment my foot hit the gravel, a sensation like an electric shock zipped through my spine. “I know what’s wrong!” “Oh sh*t, no!” 4 We shouted at the same time. We both scrambled back inside the car before the doors could close. “What did you realize?” I asked, breathless. “You go first,” Caleb said. “I just realized something we ignored,” I said rapidly. “This train has been moving for forty minutes. It hasn’t passed a single station.” “We haven’t even seen a service light.” Forty minutes at high speed. We should be in the next state by now. Are we even in the city anymore? My gut told me that stepping into that darkness was a one-way ticket to something worse than being trapped. Caleb was shivering now. He shoved his phone in my face. “That user, StubbornTurnip, DM’d me three minutes ago.” “He said the Blue Line is closed for maintenance tonight. It shut down at 11:00 PM.” “This train… it shouldn’t exist.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389271”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The hospital’s promotion roster had just been posted. I stared at the name filling the coveted Associate Director slot—a position that, by every metric, should have been mine. It was Trevor Wells, a junior attending physician who’d only completed his fellowship six months ago. I walked straight to the office of the Chief of Staff, Dr. Helena Price. She didn’t even look up when I knocked. When I finally pressed her for an answer, she slammed the selection results onto her desk, her voice dripping with irritation. “Rowan Kennedy, you want an Associate Director position? You’re getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” “Dr. Price, I’ve been here eight years,” I said, working hard to keep my voice even. “I’ve handled 65 critical trauma cases this year alone, and I’ve secured three major state-level research grants. By the department’s own published metrics, the promotion belongs to me.” She scoffed, a truly ugly sound. “Metrics? That’s the hospital’s platform, Kennedy! You’re nothing without the resources we provide!” She leaned forward, her face a mask of condescension. “You dare to question my decision? Your ambition is obscene. If you can’t handle the pressure, then why don’t you just quit, go home, and focus on getting married and having babies?” The gendered insult hit me like a physical blow. “Bring this up again, and I’ll revoke your standing for the Neurosurgery Fellowship next year.” I stood there for a long moment, the taste of rust and defeat in my mouth. Then, I silently took the form she slid across the desk and signed it. Fine. Let them have their titles. They were about to learn that seniority means nothing when you can’t actually do the job. 1 I walked back to the clinic and found Trevor sitting at my desk, legs propped up, watching some trashy reality show on his tablet and crunching on a bag of gourmet chips. I went to my side of the desk and began quietly organizing patient charts, trying to regain my center. Trevor adjusted the collar of his freshly pressed scrubs and smirked. “Look at some people, acting like the whole floor will collapse if they punch out on time. Small talent, big attitude.” He tossed a clipboard onto my desk. “Since you’ve got nothing to do now, 302 needs the linens changed. Filthy. Go handle it. It’s a doctor’s order.” My hand froze over the charts. I looked up, meeting his eyes. “Trevor, I’m a neurosurgeon, not the housekeeping staff. I am not obligated to handle patient custodial care.” Without another word, I pulled off my white coat. For the first time in eight years, I punched out at five o’clock. As I walked through the sliding glass doors, the reality of the past few minutes settled over me. Eight years. Near-perfect attendance, even when I was sick. The sheer volume of my cases, unmatched in the department. The tears, the sweat, the sleepless nights. All nullified by one corrupt signature. It felt like I was standing on a cliff edge, watching my life’s work dissolve into mist. My devotion to medicine was a sacred vow. I grew up seeing too many lives—including my own father’s—lost to poor, outdated medical care. I swore then that I would be the best. I wasn’t ready to let them erase my commitment. The next morning, I arrived at St. Jude’s on time, dark circles under my eyes, ready to start my rounds. The bed of the patient I was assigned to, Mrs. Miller in Room 302, was empty. My brow furrowed. “Where is the patient in 302?” Trevor turned, a sneer on his face. “Rowan, you’re just a Senior Attending. You don’t get to bark orders at me.” I walked toward him, anger tightening my chest. “Trevor, this is patient safety! Hospital protocol requires a full handover—” “You think you’re still in charge?” He cut me off, his eyes rolling. “This is Dr. Price’s call. Got a problem, take it up with her.” Just then, Mrs. Miller shuffled back into the room, looking pale and unsteady. I quickly rushed over, helped her into bed, and settled her under the covers. Watching her frail condition, my hands curled into fists. “Trevor, you know this delay could compromise her recovery. The hospital is not your private playground!” Trevor, flanked by four interns who hung on his every word, stood at the foot of Mrs. Miller’s bed. He addressed her, completely bypassing me. “Mrs. Miller, you need to decide. Do you want me to continue your care, or should Dr. Kennedy handle it?” Mrs. Miller hesitated, her face strained. She offered me a weak, kindly smile—a small comfort that warmed me for a moment. But her next words plunged me into an ice bath. “I think I’ll stick with Associate Director Wells,” she said, avoiding my gaze and turning toward Trevor with a placating look. “Higher rank means better medicine, right? You always want the best.” Trevor shot me a triumphant smirk. “See, Sloan? Patients know quality when they see it.” The interns muffled their laughter. A nearby visitor in the next bed pointed at me and grumbled loudly, “He’s just trying to hog patients and make more money. Doesn’t know his own skill level.” My face was burning, but my heart felt cold and hollow. Fine. I’d play their game. I turned to leave, but Trevor blocked my path. “You, stick around and observe.” Before I could refuse, he pulled rank. “Obeying your superior is a job requirement, Sloan. Any objections?” I clenched my jaw. For the patient’s sake, I had to stay. “Increase this patient’s medication dosage by double, and order a full-body MRI,” Trevor commanded, nodding toward me. When I didn’t immediately move to write the order, his face darkened. “Did you hear me?” I looked him straight in the eye. “Her diagnosis is confirmed. An extra MRI is a waste of money and resources.” My voice was low and controlled. “And doubling the dosage will significantly increase her renal burden. She won’t tolerate it.” Trevor slapped the patient chart against my chest. “Are you trying to teach me how to practice medicine? I’m the Associate Director here!” He took a step closer. “You’re just jealous of my promotion, aren’t you? You’re deliberately undermining me.” He picked up a folder. “That’s it. You don’t need to shadow anymore. Go to the unit and clean every single bedpan. Now.” I stared at him in disbelief. “The bedpans? You’re asking me to do custodial work?” He jabbed a finger toward me. “It’s a direct order. Obey your leadership, or you can pack your bags and go!” 2 The news of me being ordered to clean bedpans spread like wildfire through the hospital. The next day, as I approached my clinic, I heard the nurses at the triage desk giggling and whispering about the “Bedpan Doctor.” When they saw me, they quickly went silent, faces flushed with embarrassment. I walked into my exam room, my expression blank, and prepared for the day. After seeing only three patients, the screen showed zero waiting. I usually booked out for weeks, and my weekly clinic day was always a frantic rush. Today, however… A knot of suspicion tightened in my stomach. I got up to check the triage desk. As I rounded the corner, I saw it: Trevor’s specialist clinic on the far side of the hallway was packed—a standing-room-only crowd of patients, many of whom were familiar faces I’d treated before. They quickly averted their eyes when they saw me. A wave of profound sadness washed over me. Did the title—just four letters on a plaque—really hold more weight than eight years of life-saving skill? I turned back, the weight of my despair making my footsteps heavy. “Dr. Kennedy, wait up!” A voice called from behind me. It was Noah, one of Trevor’s interns. “The director’s waiting room is completely slammed,” he said, craning his neck to peer into my empty room. He rolled his eyes. “Since you’re not doing anything, Dr. Wells needs a favor. He needs a latte and a slice of Black Forest cake from that new bakery on the West Side. Must be back before ten. Get going.” He spoke with the speed of a machine gun, and before I could respond, he started to walk away. “Wait!” I jogged to catch him. “This is work time. I’m scheduled to see patients. Are you serious?” I felt a surge of indignation. “If he wants food, he can order delivery. I am not his personal courier.” Noah stopped, pushing his glasses up his nose with a frustrated sigh. “Dr. Kennedy, no one is going to come to you when Associate Director Wells is seeing patients.” “Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a patronizing tone, “this is for the Director’s energy. It falls under supporting and cooperating with leadership. You’re an old employee here. Do I really need to remind you of your basic job duties?” “Obeying your leadership.” That phrase sent a blinding flash of fury straight to my brain. My entire body started to tremble. Seeing my silence, Noah sneered. “Don’t keep the Director waiting.” He turned and strode off. I was so angry I could have shattered my teeth. They were betting on my shame, banking on me quitting to save face because of the financial penalty in my contract. They were wrong. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. I wanted to see the bottom of their depravity, and then I wanted to burn it all down. The midday traffic was brutal. To save time, I used my old, battered scooter. An hour in the cold wind, fighting congestion, all for a coffee and a slice of cake. When I returned, breathless and clutching the paper bag, the person waiting for me in the main lobby wasn’t Trevor. It was Dr. Helena Price. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at my exhausted, wind-chapped face. “Rowan Kennedy! Unauthorized departure during working hours! Do you have no respect for that white coat?” She snatched the bag from my hand, tore it open, and her face went dark with fury. “You have time to gorge yourself on cake and coffee?! If you don’t want to work here, then quit!” My eyes stung with sudden tears of humiliation, and I struggled to explain. “It’s for Trevor. He had Noah force me to get it. I refused, but he used his title to pressure me—” “Don’t you dare try to pin this on me, Sloan.” Trevor appeared from nowhere, his face a picture of false innocence, addressing Dr. Price. “Dr. Price, I’ve been diligently seeing patients all morning. I haven’t even had a sip of water. He’s deliberately trying to smear me.” I grabbed Trevor’s arm, pulling him aside. “You know you had Noah force me! We can check the security footage!” Trevor’s composure flickered for a second. “I know you’re upset about the promotion, Sloan,” he said, his voice suddenly thick with fake sympathy. “If this somehow makes you feel better, I’ll take the blame for it.” As he said this, his wrist twisted, and he shoved me hard backward. I wasn’t expecting it. I lost my balance and crashed hard onto the floor. “Oh, Dr. Kennedy, how clumsy!” Trevor cried out, feigning shock, and making a show of reaching down to help me up. I swatted his hand away, the pain in my back fueling my fury. “You have the nerve to blame me? You pushed me!” Trevor immediately turned to Dr. Price, tears welling up in his eyes. “Dr. Price, I didn’t! Please, you have to believe me!” His acting was so magnificent it was almost comical. I opened my mouth to protest, but Dr. Price’s thunderous roar cut me off. “Enough!” The paper bag hit me next, slammed down by her hand. Hot coffee and sticky cake splattered everywhere, covering me head-to-toe. I was a pathetic, disgusting clown, and the crowd of onlookers erupted in hushed laughter. Dr. Price’s face was black with contempt. “Such small-minded, malicious pettiness! You are a disgrace to this hospital!” “If you had half the maturity of Associate Director Wells, you wouldn’t be stuck as a Senior Attending after eight years!” “You are off the clinic schedule immediately. Go back to your office and write the final surgical protocol for Mr. Prescott. You have three days. Fail to deliver, and I won’t hesitate to terminate your contract.” 3 I became the hospital’s favorite piece of gossip. Some employees even started a betting pool on how long it would take for me to finally quit. I ignored them all and focused on the protocol. My ten-year contract was only in its eighth year; quitting now meant facing a ruinous financial penalty. I would not let them win that way. The surgery for Mr. Graham Prescott, the CEO of the Prescott Group, was high-stakes. If I succeeded here, I would have undeniable leverage. After two consecutive all-nighters, I delivered the final surgical plan to Dr. Price. She didn’t say anything after reading it, but the satisfied smile playing on her lips told me everything I needed to know. The massive stone in my chest rolled away. I picked up my presentation materials and headed for the conference room. The Prescott entourage was due in fifteen minutes. But Dr. Price blocked the doorway. “This is a high-level executive meeting, Dr. Kennedy,” she said. “You are not cleared to attend.” She lowered her voice, the disdain obvious. “Go to the surgical floor and run some errands. Don’t waste time causing trouble.” I knew she was shameless, but her arrogance still stunned me. “This is my surgical plan. Why can’t I present it?” She sneered and waved her hand toward the door behind her. Trevor appeared. Dr. Price smiled and handed my printed plan directly to him. “Familiarize yourself with this quickly, Trevor. You will be chairing the meeting. Make us proud.” “Thank you for your faith in me, Dr. Price!” Trevor bowed, shot me a gleeful, mocking glance, and started to walk away. “No!” I cried out, lunging forward to grab his arm. “Give me back my plan!” “Help! Dr. Kennedy is assaulting me!” he screamed. He suddenly lost his balance and fell backward, crashing onto the floor. I froze. I hadn’t even pushed him, yet he was down. Slap! A sharp, stinging blow landed across my face, snapping my head to the side. My cheek instantly felt hot. I instinctively reached up to cover my face, tears of humiliation burning my eyes. “I didn’t push him…” Dr. Price’s hand was still raised. Her face was menacing. “Still lying!” “Security! Get this lunatic restrained and locked up!” I was hauled away by security guards and taken to the dark, moldy supply closet in the basement. They confiscated my phone before locking the door. I screamed and pounded on the door until my knuckles were bruised, but no one came. Exhausted, I slumped to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees and burying my face. I finally let go of the pressure, sobbing uncontrollably. I don’t know how long I was down there. The door finally opened, and Dr. Price and Trevor stood over me, looking down. “The protocol was well-written,” Dr. Price said, a predatory smile on her face. “The hospital’s investment in you wasn’t wasted.” “Get ready,” she continued. “In three days, you will assist Associate Director Wells with the Prescott surgery.” Assist Trevor? My eyes were red and swollen, but I managed a cold laugh. “He just finished his fellowship. You want him to be the lead surgeon on a case of this magnitude? You are gambling with a patient’s life!” “I will not assist!” My refusal ignited her temper. “Still haven’t learned your lesson!” She charged at me, face contorted with rage. She gripped my neck with one hand and repeatedly slapped my face with the other—left, right, left, right. “You deliberately cross me! I’m going to teach you a lesson for your backstabbing insolence!” “You want to be a Director? I’ll make sure you’re a pariah—a lowlife that every clinic blacklists!” I was dizzy, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. I bit down hard on my lower lip, tightly hugging my arms to my chest, refusing to use them to defend my face. Trevor stood nearby, savoring the moment. “Dr. Price, don’t hurt your hand!” He pretended to console her, then suddenly lunged toward me. “You tried to hit a leader!” he shouted, grabbing the hem of my thin surgical scrubs and yanking hard. Riiip. The fabric tore instantly. My top fell away, leaving my chest bare. The violation sent a fresh, blinding wave of tears down my cheeks. I couldn’t fight back. Not yet. I lost count of the number of slaps. Dr. Price finally let go, her breath heaving, and threw me onto the cold concrete floor like a used dish rag. I curled into a ball, desperately covering my bare chest. Thank God. My hands are safe. “You think this is over because you didn’t fight back?” Dr. Price spat, her voice thick with disgust. “Dream on!” “Insubordination, dereliction of duty, gross misconduct. Any one of these is enough to terminate your contract immediately.” She looked down at me and let loose a hacking, thick spit of phlegm that landed near my shoulder. Trevor rushed to her side, solicitously taking her hand. “Let me get you an ice pack, Dr. Price. Don’t waste your energy on this ungrateful snake. I’m here now. I’ll make sure the Prescott surgery is flawless.” Dr. Price smiled, a look of warm approval replacing the rage. She turned back to me, her face hardening again. “You are suspended without pay. Go home and reflect on your poor choices.” They turned and walked out, leaving me shivering and exposed. A moment later, a dark jacket was gently draped over my shoulders. It was Ben Carter, the Chief of Security. His eyes were red-rimmed. He helped me to my feet. “I’m sorry I was late. Are you okay?” I managed a weak, comforting smile and nodded, though the tears continued to flow, silent and unstoppable. He pulled me into a brief, tight hug. “If you need anything—anything at all—you tell me. You saved my mother’s life on your table a few years ago. I won’t forget that.” After days of relentless humiliation, Ben’s quiet support was a stream of warmth that solidified my fractured resolve. I had done the right thing. I had chosen to be an honorable doctor. And now, I would fight. On the fourth day of my suspension, Dr. Price’s number appeared on my screen. For the first time, she sounded genuinely panicked. “Rowan, get here now! Mr. Prescott’s condition has deteriorated!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389287”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In my last life, I refused to grant a divorce, and for that, Evelyn hated me to her core. I always thought if I just waited until the children were a little older, she might come back to me. But all I got was the news of her flying to another country with our three daughters to throw a lavish beach wedding for him, for Adrian Thorne. It was a global sensation. I chased after them, demanding an explanation, only to be hit by a car. She and our three daughters stood on that beach, their eyes devoid of any emotion as they watched me die. As my consciousness faded, I heard our daughters clapping. “This is great! Now Uncle Adrian can be our dad!” At my funeral, my youngest son, Leo, cried his heart out. People tried to comfort Evelyn. “What’s he crying for? If your father had just agreed to the divorce sooner, none of this would have happened. He brought this on himself!” Later, Leo missed me so much he fell ill. He didn’t last long. It was only then that I understood. What I had been fighting for wasn’t a family. It was a joke. So this time, I have only one goal: to take Leo and disappear, to let them have their perfect little family. 1. “Wyatt, you say you’ll agree to a divorce, but you insist on taking that sickly child, Leo. Do you really expect me to believe you?” Evelyn held a pen, her eyes filled with suspicion. She must have thought I was playing the same old game, using our son to trap her. I couldn’t be bothered to argue. I just pushed the divorce papers closer to her. “Believe it or not, just sign it.” She stared at me for a long, hard moment before finally leaning down to sign. She slammed the pen onto the paper with a sharp crack. “You’d better mean it.” I didn’t spare her another glance. I turned and walked out. Back in my room, I called my mother in England. “Mom, Evelyn and I are getting a divorce. As soon as it’s official, I’m bringing Leo to you.” “Daddy?” The door creaked open. Leo stood there, clutching a stuffed tiger, his soft voice full of anticipation. “When is the birthday party going to start?” I knelt and ruffled his hair, my voice instantly softening. “Soon, sweetie. Daddy will take you down right now.” Seven years ago, Evelyn had given birth to quadruplets: three daughters, Rose, Lily, and Daisy, and our son, Leo. Today was their seventh birthday. I had just picked up their presents and was rounding the corner when the conversation from the study stopped me in my tracks. “Evelyn, are you really divorcing him for me?” Adrian’s voice was thick with emotion. “Rose and the girls are so lovely. I can’t bear the thought of him taking any of them. And he loves you so much… what if he changes his mind?” “He wouldn’t dare,” Evelyn’s voice was cold as steel. “If he doesn’t sign, we’ll just go abroad and have the wedding anyway. He’ll never see the children again.” “Uncle Adrian, don’t cry,” Lily chimed in. “I’m not going with the bad daddy!” “Me neither!” Rose added. Daisy was even more excited. “Can we be the flower girls at your and Mommy’s wedding abroad?” My nails dug into my palms, the pain a dull throb. Even though I’d already witnessed their betrayal in my past life, hearing it again still felt like a punch to the gut. I took a deep breath and stepped out from around the corner, my face a cold mask. “The party is about to start.” Adrian looked startled and quickly tried to excuse himself. “Mr. Hayes, I know I’m not welcome. I’ll leave now.” As he passed me, he suddenly stumbled, grabbing my arm and pulling me down the stairs with him. “Ah—!” My back slammed against the steps, a sharp, agonizing pain shooting up my spine. I saw Evelyn and the girls rush over. Their hands were reaching for me, but when they heard Adrian’s pained grunt, they changed direction, swarming around him instead. They helped him up and rushed him out the door, the three girls trailing behind. Not a single one of them looked back at me. Only Leo, my sweet Leo, stumbled over to me, his small body collapsing beside mine as he cried, “Daddy, wake up! Leo’s scared…” 2. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. For three days, not a single call from Evelyn or the girls. Only Leo came, every day, right on time, feeding me porridge with a small spoon, his little voice asking, “Daddy, does it hurt today?” One evening, the door was ajar, and I overheard the nurses chatting. “That Miss Evelyn in the VIP ward is so devoted to Mr. Thorne. She’s with him day and night, even makes him soup herself.” “I heard that when she was in that car accident years ago, he was the one who saved her life, gave her a massive blood transfusion. No wonder she’s so attentive!” My eyes flew open. I was the one who had pulled Evelyn from the wreckage of that car. I was the one who had given her a thousand milliliters of my own blood, nearly passing out in the process. How had Adrian taken credit for that? I closed my eyes, forcing down the surge of emotion. It didn’t matter. In this life, I was leaving. There was no point in fighting over the past. The day I was discharged, I passed the VIP ward. Through the crack in the door, I saw Evelyn, tenderly feeding chicken soup to Adrian. The love in her eyes was so thick you could drown in it. My three daughters were there too: one massaging his back, another reading him a story, the third feeding him fruit. “Evelyn, Mr. Hayes was hurt much worse than I was. Shouldn’t you go check on him?” Adrian said, his voice dripping with false sincerity, his eyes gleaming with triumph. Evelyn didn’t even pause. “He brought it on himself. Who told him to trip you? Let him think about what he’s done.” “Exactly!” Rose chimed in, frowning. “He’s always hovering around us and Mom. It’s so annoying!” Lily pouted. “We have maids, but he always insists on doing everything himself. He’s just a glutton for punishment.” Daisy added, “Uncle Adrian is handsome and a famous designer. He’s so much better than Daddy.” I stood outside the door, my fists clenched so tight my knuckles turned white. All these years, I had worked myself to the bone for them, and this is what they thought of me. A nuisance. I really did need to reflect. Reflect on how I could have been so blind as to give my heart to such a pack of ungrateful wolves. 3. The moment I got home, I took Leo straight to the largest shopping mall in the city. In my past life, Evelyn always said it was “inconvenient to take a son out,” yet she took the girls horseback riding every week. I owed Leo so much. In this life, I would make it up to him, a hundred times over. I bought him a new casual blue outfit and styled his hair. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes curving into crescents as he smiled. “Daddy, I look like a little prince!” “You are a little prince, Leo.” I pinched his cheek. “Come on, Daddy’s taking you horseback riding.” We had just arrived at the stables when we ran into Evelyn and her entourage. Adrian was leading a chestnut mare, with Evelyn perched on its back. The three girls clustered around, a chorus of concern, terrified she might fall. When Evelyn saw me, her gaze faltered. It swept over me, from my hair to my shoes, then quickly darted away. Her expression hardened. “We’re getting a divorce. What are you doing following us here?” She paused, then added, “And don’t think for a second that dressing up like this will change my mind.” I pulled a startled Leo into my arms, patting his back comfortingly. “Who’s following you?” I replied coldly. “I’m taking my son riding. It’s a coincidence.” With that, I took Leo to get changed, not bothering to look at them again. But Evelyn’s eyes were like hooks, constantly snagging on me. Even when Adrian spoke to her, she was distracted. In my last life, they had played me for a fool, trapping me in the gilded cage of our family, making me their workhorse until I had nothing left to give, not even my life. This time, I was living for myself. This was just the beginning. An attendant soon brought out my horse, Frost. She was a purebred Arabian, a gift from my father before he passed. He’d had her imported specially for me. She was snow-white and spirited, and aside from me and her groom, she wouldn’t let anyone else near her. When Adrian saw Frost, his eyes lit up. “What a beautiful horse! I wish I had one like this.” Without waiting for me to stop him, he reached out to stroke her neck. “Hee-yee!” Frost reared up, her nostrils flaring in a warning snort of hot air. Adrian yelped and threw his arms around Evelyn for protection. “Take this crazy animal to the slaughterhouse!” Evelyn’s eyes flashed with anger as she screamed at the stable hands. “You dare!” I spun around, my eyes blazing, the hand gripping my riding crop trembling. “That was the last thing my father gave me! If you want to touch her, you’ll have to go through me first!” 4. The air crackled with tension. Evelyn stared at me, her expression unreadable. Adrian tightened his hold on her, his voice a soft, placating murmur. “Evelyn, let it go. I’m not hurt… Don’t let this ruin your relationship with your husband.” “Husband?” Evelyn scoffed, her gaze turning even colder. “He’s not worthy of the title.” But despite her words, the hand she had raised to wave away the stable hands slowly dropped to her side. The girls immediately surrounded me, their small fists clenched. “It’s all your horse’s fault! You scared Uncle Adrian!” I looked at their indignant faces and felt a wave of absurdity wash over me. I had raised these children from birth, and now they were siding with an outsider against me. “Daddy, can we not ride today?” Leo tugged at my sleeve, his voice a small plea. “Let the groom take Frost back. I’m scared she’ll get angry again.” My heart ached at his thoughtfulness. I looked at my daughters, at the suspicion and calculation in their eyes, and it chilled me more than Evelyn’s cold indifference. I started to lead Frost back to the stables, but Adrian suddenly blocked my path. “Mr. Hayes, I need to have a word with you.” I sent Leo back to the lounge. The moment Evelyn and the girls were out of earshot, getting water, the gentle mask slipped from Adrian’s face, replaced by an arrogant sneer. “I want this horse. Name your price.” “Not for sale.” “Don’t be a fool.” His expression darkened. He pulled a steel needle from his pocket, twirling it between his fingers. “You think Evelyn really cares about you? She defended me because I know how to play the game.” “Be smart and give me the horse. Otherwise, I’ll make her have it butchered. And then I’ll show her how you ‘accidentally’ hurt me.” My blood ran cold. Before I could react, while I was distracted, he lunged forward and plunged the needle deep into Frost’s side. “Hee-yee!” Frost shrieked in pain and went wild. “Ah!” Adrian was kicked by the horse and crumpled to the ground, screaming. Just as Frost was about to trample him, I vaulted onto her back without a second thought, grabbing the reins. “Frost, calm down!” “Wyatt, are you insane?!” Evelyn’s shriek cut through the chaos. She was charging toward us, a riding crop in her hand, which she brought down hard on the horse’s flank. “Are you trying to kill Adrian?!” The blow was vicious. Frost, already in a frenzy, completely lost control, bucking and kicking wildly. I was nearly thrown off, clinging to the reins for dear life. I saw a flicker of fear in Evelyn’s eyes as she watched me struggle to stay on, but it vanished the moment she heard Adrian’s cry of pain. Thankfully, the stable hands rushed in, managing to rope Frost and inject her with a tranquilizer. With a thud, she collapsed, foam frothing at her mouth, her body convulsing. I tumbled off her back. As I staggered to my feet, I heard Adrian sobbing to Evelyn. “Evelyn, don’t blame Mr. Hayes… He’s just so jealous of me. I don’t blame him…” With that, his head lolled to the side, and he passed out. Evelyn checked his breathing and let out a sigh of relief, but her anger quickly returned. She cradled Adrian in her arms and glared at me. “Adrian is still defending you, even in this state, and this is how you repay him? You have no decency!” “Guards! Take him to the confinement room! No one is to let him out without my order!” 5. Before she could finish, a commotion erupted from the direction of the pony stables. I looked over, and my face went pale. Rose, Lily, and Daisy, each on a small pony, were galloping toward me, screaming, “Daddy! Help us!” Their faces were masks of terror, their bodies swaying precariously on the ponies’ backs. It was a terrifying sight. My heart seized. I acted on pure instinct, sprinting toward them. They were my children, the ones I had raised. Even after their betrayal, I couldn’t just stand by. But as they got closer, I saw it. A flicker of triumph in their eyes. The smirk of a successful scheme. I tried to turn, but it was too late. Crack— Rose’s pony reached me first, its hoof slamming into my chest. A sharp, explosive pain, the sound of bone breaking. I was thrown into the air, landing hard on the grass. Before I could even catch my breath, Lily and Daisy’s ponies were on me, their hooves trampling my body again and again. I lay on the ground, blood pouring from my mouth, staining the grass beneath me red. My vision blurred, and the sounds around me grew distant. Through the haze, I heard Evelyn’s voice, a note of panic in it. “You’ve gone too far! No matter what, Wyatt is still your father…” Adrian immediately cut her off, his voice soft. “They’re just children, Evelyn. What do they know?” “I know you were just trying to stand up for me,” he said to the girls. “But what if you had gotten hurt? That would have really broken my heart.” “We just couldn’t stand him bullying you!” Rose’s voice was filled with a venom far beyond her years. “If we didn’t teach him a lesson, we would have felt sick!” “Uncle Adrian, we planned this all along,” Lily said, her tone just as cold. “It’s too much trouble dealing with him every day. It’s better if he’s seriously injured and in the hospital. At least then he’ll be out of the way and we’ll have some peace and quiet.” Daisy added, “And we heard you talking to Mommy. We three are from your and Mommy’s embryos that were put in her tummy. Only Leo is Daddy’s real son! We’re a family with you and Mommy!” My mind went blank, a roaring in my ears. No wonder Evelyn had suddenly suggested IVF when we were perfectly healthy. No wonder only Leo was the outcast. No wonder the girls were so cruel to me, and so attached to Adrian. So Leo and I were the outsiders in our own home. I tried to get up, to confront them, but every inch of my body screamed in protest. I couldn’t move a finger. The hatred in my heart and the pain in my body twisted together, tearing me apart. Then, everything went black. 6. I don’t know how long I was out. I woke up to a world of pain. I was wrapped in bandages from head to toe, a mummy in a hospital bed. The agony was a stark reminder that what had happened was real. The three daughters I had raised with love and care were not my own. Adrian walked in, dressed in a sharp, expensive suit. He was a jarring contrast to my bandaged form. “Tsk, tsk. You’re a tough one, aren’t you? Still alive after all that.” He circled my bed, his voice dripping with scorn. “The doctor says you might be paralyzed from the waist down. You may never walk again. What do you think Evelyn will think of me now, when she sees you like this?” I closed my eyes, refusing to acknowledge him. “You don’t know, do you?” he leaned in closer, his cologne making me sick. “While you’ve been unconscious these past few days, Evelyn has been by my side, day and night. Your three precious daughters have been telling me stories, feeding me my meals. They’re much more devoted to me than they ever were to their ‘daddy’.” He chuckled, poking my arm. “Oh, and by the way, that horse of yours, Frost? You’ll never see her again. Evelyn heard I’d never had horse meat, so she had it butchered on the spot. It was delicious. A shame you missed out.” My eyes snapped open. I don’t know where the strength came from, but I shoved him with all my might. “Ah!” He stumbled back, his hip crashing into a chair. He yelped in pain. “You cripple! How dare you touch me?!” He scrambled up and lunged at my bed, his foot aimed at my legs. “I’m going to kill you today!” “Stop!” Evelyn burst into the room just in time to see Adrian about to kick me. “What are you doing?!” she shrieked. Adrian’s foot froze mid-air. He immediately covered his face, his voice cracking as he feigned innocence. “I… I was just trying to help Mr. Hayes get a drink of water. He thought I was going to push him, so he hit me…” Perhaps the excuse was too flimsy, because for once, Evelyn was silent. I kept my mouth shut. Under the covers, my hand clutched a note my assistant had slipped me that morning. It contained the information I’d asked for, about a doctor, an old master of traditional medicine I had read about in my past life. A man who could supposedly cure illnesses Western medicine had given up on. Evelyn didn’t press the issue. She just said, “Let’s go,” and turned to leave. 7. Over the next two weeks, Evelyn only appeared twice. The first time, she came in with a thermos, a flicker of apology in her eyes. “I had the cook make you some pigeon soup.” I turned my head away. She set the soup down and left after a few minutes of silence. As the door closed, I heard her tell the guard, “Keep an eye on him. Don’t let Mr. Thorne in here again.” The second time, she brought an assistant and a pile of nutritional supplements. The moment she was gone, I told the guard, “Throw it all out.” Along with all the years of devotion I had wasted on her. The day I was discharged was the day we were scheduled to finalize the divorce. With the help of my guards, I stood up from my wheelchair, steady on my feet. “Let’s go.” On the way to the city hall, I received a message from my mother. “Wyatt, don’t worry. I have Leo with me. We’re waiting for you at the city hall. We’ll go to the airport together after you’re done.” I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them again, the last traces of doubt were gone, replaced by a steely resolve. I spotted Evelyn the moment I walked into the lobby. She was dressed in a sharp business suit, with Adrian, in his own custom-tailored suit, his arm around her. They looked like a couple about to get married. “Evelyn, are we really doing this today?” Adrian’s hand tightened on her waist. She looked up and kissed his chin. “If my father hadn’t threatened to disown me all those years ago, I never would have married Wyatt. I’ve made you wait so long. It’s time I gave you what you deserve. I can’t wait to be your wife.” Adrian laughed, but his eyes kept darting toward the entrance. “It seems I’ve arrived just in time.” My voice cut through the quiet lobby. I was wearing a black suit, my hair perfectly styled. I looked sharp, confident. I wanted them to see that without them, I was reborn. Adrian’s face fell. “How are you able to stand?!” he blurted out. Evelyn stared at me, stunned for a moment, clearly not expecting this. “Evelyn, don’t just stand there! Let’s get this over with!” Adrian tugged at her sleeve, a flash of panic in his eyes. Evelyn snapped out of her daze and we went through the paperwork. With a final, decisive stamp, our eight-year marriage was over. Adrian let out a sigh of relief and pushed the three girls toward me. “Now you can tell the truth, can’t you? We all know you only chose Leo to make a point. So, which of these three do you want?” Just as he finished speaking, my mother walked in, holding Leo’s hand. “Daddy!” Leo cried, running to me. I knelt and hugged him, then looked at Evelyn and Adrian, and said, clearly and firmly, “From the very beginning, he was the only one I ever wanted.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389303”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 After my husband, Damon, came crawling back from his affair, I started a little online project. Every day, a new post. How thrilling is it to cheat? Does a man get addicted to infidelity? After an affair, who does he feel guiltier towards: the wife or the mistress? I tagged his university in every single one. A precise delivery system for his students, his colleagues, and—of course—his mistress. Everyone told me to stop making such an ugly scene, to be the bigger person, the graceful wife. Only Damon defended me, pulling me behind him. “I’m the one who made the mistake,” he’d say, his voice a mask of contrition. “Amelia has every right to vent.” This charade continued until my ninety-ninth post. That was the day Damon stormed into my office, a wildness in his eyes I hadn’t seen before, and smashed my laptop to the floor. “Amelia, for God’s sake! I’m home now. What more do you want from me?” he roared, his voice cracking. “How long are you going to torture me?” I didn’t answer. I just calmly folded a pair of his freshly laundered boxers and placed them on the stack. I looked at him, my expression placid, and asked with a small smile, “Do you have anything else that needs washing?” 2 Damon froze, his chest heaving with a rage that had nowhere to go. His furious questions hit me and dissolved, like fists punching a pillow. When he didn’t speak, I moved toward him, taking his suit jacket from his shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “This is all wrinkled. I’ll go press it for you.” “Amelia!” he grabbed my arm, his voice tight with an irritation he couldn’t contain. “What is it you want? Can you just stop this act?” He gestured wildly at the wreckage of my computer. “Do you have any idea what those posts are doing to my reputation? I’m a human being, Amelia. I get tired, too!” My hands stilled. My breath hitched. “Are you worried about your reputation,” I asked softly, “or Brooke’s?” Her name was a spark in a room full of gasoline. The air between us crackled, ready to ignite. “Why are you bringing her up again?” he snapped. “I moved her to a different research group. I cut off all contact. You know this!” He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. “Do you want to drive everyone as crazy as you are? Is that what will make you happy?” His voice climbed to a shout, but his eyes landed on the swell of my pregnant belly, and the fury deflated out of him. He looked like a punctured balloon. “I’m sorry, honey,” he whispered, his tone instantly softening as he wrapped his arms around me. Guilt washed over his features. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. That was my temper. I’ll buy you a new laptop tomorrow, the best one.” I recoiled from his touch like I’d been electrocuted, stumbling back and pressing my hand to my mouth as a wave of nausea hit me. I leaned against the doorframe, dry-heaving. “Don’t touch me,” I gasped. “You’re… filthy.” Damon’s face darkened. His eyes, already bloodshot, seemed to burn. “You think I’m filthy?” he repeated, his voice dangerously low. Before I could react, he grabbed my hand, yanking me forward and pinning me against the door. He ripped at the collar of my shirt, his mouth descending on my neck in a rough, biting kiss. “The doctor said it’s fine in the last trimester, Amelia. Let’s…” “Get off me! You make me sick!” I shoved him with all my strength, collapsing to the floor and frantically scrubbing at the skin he’d touched. I rubbed until it was raw and red, but the feeling of his mouth on me wouldn’t go away. The room filled with the sound of my retching. “So dirty,” I sobbed, “I need to wash…” “Amelia! Do you hate me that much?” Damon’s voice was a raw, broken roar from behind me. “What do I have to do to make you forgive me?” I scrambled into the bathroom and turned the shower on full blast, letting the icy water cascade over my clothes, over my skin. The front door slammed with enough force to shake the walls. I lifted my head and met my own gaze in the mirror. My face was a mess—pale, gaunt, streaked with tears. Suddenly, the grief I’d been holding back crashed over me in a tidal wave. I clutched my stomach, my sobs so violent I couldn’t breathe. We had been the golden couple, the envy of everyone we knew, inseparable since college. Now, his touch felt like a violation. I couldn’t forget. God, I had tried. I wanted to be the magnanimous wife, the one who forgave and moved on. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. With her. The student I had sponsored, had taken under my wing. He was with her while I was carrying his child. He was with her in our marital bed on the day of my father’s funeral. The thought sent a spasm of pain through my stomach, a phantom knife twisting in my gut. Why did he get to act like it never happened? Why was his conscience so clean while mine was in shreds? I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. 3 It was a long time before I stumbled out of the bathroom. The apartment was deathly quiet. Damon was on the sofa, his eyes red and swollen. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Tonight… I lost control. It’s all my fault. It won’t happen again.” “It doesn’t matter,” I cut him off, my voice flat. “That’s your business.” Without waiting for a reply, I turned and walked into our bedroom. I lay down, placing a gentle hand on my belly, forcing myself to take slow, deep breaths. I’m sorry, little one. Mommy lost her temper again. I didn’t mean to scare you. My eyelids felt heavy as lead. As I drifted off, my mind rehearsed the same scene, over and over. The plan for one hundred days from now. Once the baby is born, I’ll be free. 4 I woke to a sharp, clenching pain deep in my abdomen. A warm wetness spread beneath me. I fumbled for the light, my heart pounding when I saw the crimson stain on the sheets. Panic seized me. I forced myself to my feet, but when I tried the bedroom door, it wouldn’t budge. He had locked me in. A cold dread washed over me. Leaning against the wall for support, I shakily dialed Damon’s number. “Damon, I’m bleeding,” I gasped into the phone. “The bedroom door is locked, I can’t get out. You have to come home. Now!” His voice on the other end was thick with exhaustion. “Amelia, it’s the university’s awards ceremony tonight. I’m swamped. Can you please not start things right now?” “Damon!” Another contraction ripped through me, and I cried out in pain. “I’m serious! I think… I think the baby’s coming!” “Oh, here we go again,” his tone sharpened, laced with accusation. “Amelia, are you really trying to ruin my awards ceremony? Is that it?” He let out a bitter laugh. “No wonder you were so calm last night. You were planning to use the baby to blackmail me!” “Damon, no, that’s not…” I tried to explain, but the relentless pain was stealing my breath, my strength. He was about to say more when another voice cut in, clear and sweet. Brooke’s voice. “Professor Miller? Is everything alright? Is it your wife again?” Her voice was a performance of concern. “Maybe you should go home… you don’t have to stay here with me…” “Don’t worry about her,” Damon’s voice was firm, reassuring her. “Work comes first.” I could hear the murmur of students laughing in the background. The line went dead. Fighting for breath, I called 911. But as I tried to push myself up to wait by the door, my legs gave out. I collapsed into the spreading pool of my own blood, hot tears streaming down my face. The paramedics were fast. When they finally broke down the door, they found me lying in a crimson heap on the floor. I lost the baby. He was almost eight months along, the doctor told me later. If they hadn’t lost time breaking down the door, they might have been able to save him. 5 Damon knelt by my hospital bed, his face a mask of anguish. He raised a hand and slapped himself, hard, across the face. Twice. “Amelia, it’s my fault. I’m a monster,” he sobbed. “I was just so afraid… afraid you’d be upset seeing me on stage with Brooke… Please, forgive me, honey. We can… we can have another baby.” The last time he knelt before me was at our wedding. He had kissed my hand, his eyes shimmering with tears as he vowed to love and cherish me for the rest of his life. That boy was gone. The man kneeling before me now was a stranger. I stared blankly at the ceiling tiles, a strange sense of relief washing over me. The baby was gone. Now I didn’t have to force myself to stay with Damon anymore. A phone buzzed, cutting through his pathetic apology. It was Brooke. To prove his loyalty, Damon immediately put the call on speaker, his voice a harsh bark. “Brooke, I told you not to contact me again!” Her voice came through, choked with sobs. “Professor Miller… I’m pregnant.” A pause. “I’m going to get rid of it, of course. I just… as the father, I thought you had a right to know.” My hand clenched into a fist, so tight my nails dug into my palm. My lips trembled uncontrollably. My baby was dead, and she was pregnant. Damon frantically ended the call, his expression a mixture of terror and shame. “Amelia,” he pleaded, “I won’t acknowledge that child. I swear.” A raw, broken laugh escaped my lips, tears streaming down my face. “Damon,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Let’s get a divorce.” “No! I don’t want a divorce!” He shot to his feet, grabbing me in a desperate hug. “Amelia, I love you. Please, don’t say that.” I tore his hands off me, my voice rising to a scream. “Then get her to this hospital right now! I want to watch her get the abortion!” Damon closed his eyes, unable to look at me. “She… she has severe depression. If I make her terminate the pregnancy now… I’m afraid she’ll do something to herself.” “And what about my child?” I grabbed the water cup from my bedside table and hurled it at him. “Was my baby’s life worthless? He was your son, too!” Just then, from Damon’s phone, still in his hand, I could hear Brooke’s muffled weeping. “Professor… I won’t make things difficult for you… I’m just going to die…” Damon’s face went white. He clutched his phone and bolted from the room without a second glance. Watching his retreating back, I felt a familiar arm wrap around my shoulders. My mother. “My sweet girl,” she whispered, her voice thick with pain as she held me close. “We’re not going to suffer this anymore. We’re getting a divorce. I’m going home right now to pack your things.” But the next time my mother called, her voice was a shattered cry. “Amelia! Damon sent men to demolish the house! The old house!” she wailed. “Your father built that place with his own two hands, brick by brick! It was all I had left of him!” The words were a knife in my heart. My world shattered. I ignored the cramping in my lower abdomen, my hand trembling as I dialed Damon’s number. “How could you?” I screamed into the phone. “How could you demolish my parents’ house? After everything they did for you!” His voice was ice. “If I had been a second later, Brooke would have overdosed on sleeping pills. Your mother called the university and reported her as a homewrecker. She almost killed two people.” He paused, his tone chillingly practical. “With the old house gone, she can just move into the city with you.” I understood immediately. After nearly a decade together, I knew how his mind worked. He was cutting off my mother’s escape route. He was trapping us, forcing my entire family to live under his watchful eye. “Damon,” I sobbed, the sound raw and animalistic, “why don’t you just die with her!” He muttered something about me being irrational and hung up. 6 I was still recovering from the miscarriage, not even out of my postpartum confinement, when my mother, overwhelmed by the stress, had a heart attack and was hospitalized. The blows kept coming, leaving me in a daze. I picked up my phone, my fingers moving automatically. I opened the forum and began to type my one-hundredth post. My baby is gone, but my husband’s mistress is pregnant. How do I make them pay? The post exploded. Within hours, it was trending nationally. The comments section flooded, with users swarming Damon’s faculty page. “Professor Scumbag in a tweed jacket. I hope this vile pair rots in hell!” “How does a degenerate like this get to teach? The university needs to fire him immediately!” Seeing the tide of public opinion turn in my favor, I felt a grim, satisfying release. The pain in my chest eased, just a little. And then, a new statement appeared on my account. To everyone, I am deeply sorry. The one hundred posts I’ve made were all fabricated. I apologize for the distress I have caused my husband and Ms. Brooke Collins. I tried to log in to delete it, but the password had been changed. Then I remembered. The broken laptop. Damon had taken it with him. Moments later, a post appeared on Damon’s own social media feed: “My wife has been suffering from postpartum psychosis since our pregnancy. She has been experiencing delusions that I am involved with one of my students. To ease her mind, I have already moved the student in question, Brooke Collins, to another research group, but my wife’s paranoia and fabrications have continued. I will ensure she formally apologizes to Ms. Collins. I am truly sorry for this misuse of public attention.” I couldn’t believe it. The audacity, the filth of his lies. Instantly, my direct messages were filled with a torrent of venom. “If you’re sick, crazy old woman, then just die! You’re one of those pathetic wives who thinks every woman wants her husband!” “Your baby died because of karma, you understand that, you bitch?” As I stared at the screen, my hands shaking with rage, Damon’s call came through. “Amelia,” he said, his voice cold and commanding. “Come to the university tomorrow. You’re going to apologize to Brooke.” “Why the hell should I?” I trembled. His voice dropped, laced with fury. “Brooke is innocent. What does your dead baby have to do with her? If you don’t want your mother’s heart surgery to be ‘unexpectedly canceled,’ you will be here tomorrow, and you will apologize.” My mother had treated him like her own son. And now he was using her life to protect his mistress. I squeezed my hand into a fist, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood. Finally, I heard my own voice, a thin, quavering whisper. “Fine. I’ll do it.” 7 After settling things at the hospital for my mother, I took a cab to the university. Brooke was there, weeping theatrically in Damon’s arms. The moment she saw me, she broke away and lunged, her hand connecting with my cheek in a sharp slap. “Mrs. Miller, how could you try to ruin my life?” she cried. The surrounding students and faculty stared at me with open contempt. In front of me, someone held up a phone, the red light indicating they were live-streaming. Damon’s gaze was a clear warning. “Amelia,” he said, his voice low and firm. “Apologize.” I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth and opened my lips to speak. But before I could, someone kicked me hard from behind, right in the hollow of my knee. My leg buckled. I crashed to the ground, kneeling before Brooke. Someone yanked at my shirt, pulling it open to expose the raw, angry stretch marks crisscrossing my stomach. “Ugly on the inside and out. No wonder she has to lie to get attention.” “God, that’s disgusting. I wouldn’t touch her if you paid me.” A flash of embarrassment crossed Damon’s face. He was ashamed of me. “Don’t act so wronged, Amelia,” he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. “You wrote a hundred posts. She gave you one slap. I’d say you got off easy.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ve transferred the money to your account. From now on, you’re even.” I pushed myself up from the floor, my eyes burning as I stared at him. What they owed me could never be repaid. Swallowing down the surge of hatred, I rushed back to the hospital, desperate to see my mom. But her bed was empty. A nurse stopped me in the hallway. “Your mother… she fell down a flight of stairs,” she told me, her expression grim. “She has a cerebral hemorrhage and multiple fractures. She’s in surgery now.” The security footage was clear. The person who pushed my mother was Brooke.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389320”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I chased Ethan Cole shamelessly for four years. He was annoyed beyond endurance. He pressured my family, and they sent me abroad in fear. He said, “I don’t care what you do, just make sure she never bothers me again!” “Otherwise, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” Drugs, hypnosis, electroshock therapy… Those methods really worked. I forgot how it felt to love him. Even my memory of him became blurred. He finally relented and allowed me to return. Wherever he appeared, I actively avoided him. Because Mom told me, that breathtakingly handsome man is someone I cannot afford to offend. Seeing him kissing my sister, I secretly took out my phone to take a picture. His gaze was fierce and cold. I shrank into the corner, terrified, stammering: “I’m sorry, I just thought you two were a perfect match, so shippable…” I don’t know why. The man who always hid his emotions had eyes that trembled violently. 1 After returning from abroad, I always felt my brain wasn’t working well. I spent most of the day sleeping. I thought I was sick. Mom comforted me, saying not to worry. “You’ve been a lazy little pig since you were young, unlike your disciplined sister.” “It doesn’t matter, everyone’s constitution is different. Sleep if you’re sleepy.” I poured myself a cup of black coffee, wanting to wake myself up. But it didn’t work. I knocked on my temples, feeling troubled, when the doorbell rang. The butler said: “Miss Bella brought Mr. Cole back.” Joy immediately surged in Mom and Dad’s eyes. Dad eagerly went out to welcome him. Mom was about to follow, but suddenly remembered something. She looked at me with difficulty: “Mia, you…” I nodded sensibly: “I know, Mr. Cole doesn’t like me.” “Sister’s marriage is important. I’ll go upstairs first. Just right for me to catch up on sleep.” Mom looked at me yawning with relief. I took a few steps and suddenly remembered I hadn’t taken the coffee cup. I wanted to try drinking another cup later. The moment I turned my head, I inadvertently met a cold gaze. Almost instinctively. I forgot the coffee cup and ran. As if running late would cost me my life. Running into the room, I locked the door. I also propped a table against the door. Only then did my heart, hanging in my throat, settle down. I can’t say why, but seeing Ethan Cole triggers a strong emotion in me: Fear. Mom said it’s because Ethan is a natural superior, anyone with him would feel a lot of pressure. “Especially a natural weakling like you.” Mom said I shouldn’t appear in front of Mr. Cole. “Mr. Cole doesn’t like people who look cute but are actually stupid.” “His gaze will only stay on excellent girls like your sister.” “What level is the Cole family? If we can marry into the Cole family, we can struggle a few lifetimes less.” “Mia, be sensible.” I am very sensible. So, every time Ethan came home, I actively avoided him. Mom was very gratified by this, sometimes patting my head. This is the biggest reward for me, and I cherish it very much. So, I never dared to tell Mom. Even if she didn’t say it, I would actively avoid Ethan. His aura is too aggressive. I feel very uncomfortable. Very depressed. Like my heart is being pinched hard by someone. There is also an inexplicable sourness. Laughter downstairs. Amidst this laughter, I fell asleep. 2 When I woke up again, the sky was dim. It was already evening. The villa was very quiet. Ethan should have left. My stomach was very hungry. I opened the door, wearing a white princess nightgown, barefoot downstairs to find food. The floor was cold, and I felt my brain sober up a little. I was standing by the kitchen island heating toast. The study door suddenly opened. Ethan in a sharp suit walked out of the study. Under the warm yellow light, his contours were more three-dimensional, his figure straight. Features like sculptures. Like a god with the power of life and death descending. But he was too cold. His temperament was cold, his eyes were cold. Even the lead-gray cufflinks of his suit gleamed coldly. Separated by the long living room, his gaze fell lightly on me. Thin lips pressed into a straight line. Full of pressure. Almost instantly. I snapped back to reality. Holding my head, squatting under the dining table. Hiding clumsily. Sister flew downstairs with brisk steps. She ran into Ethan’s arms, hugging his arm and shaking it. “Leaving already? You haven’t seen my new stills yet. How about leaving after eating?” Sister’s temperament has always been distant and cold. At this moment, she showed the coquettishness of a little daughter, pinching her voice, very pleasant to hear. Like a beautiful bird. Feathers bright, singing melodiously. Ethan didn’t speak; he looked coldly at me shivering under the table. Sister’s smile fell. Biting her lip, she said: “If you’re busy, another day is fine. Let’s go, I’ll walk you out.” Ethan stood still. The pressure on him was so strong, as if he wasn’t listening to Sister at all. Sister opened her mouth but didn’t dare to speak. After a long time, he spoke, voice deep: “Okay, leave after eating.” On Dad and Sister’s faces, surprised and suspicious expressions flashed at the same time. Ethan hooked his lips slightly: “What are you afraid of? Didn’t she forget everything?” Ethan walked to the dining table with long legs and squatted down. Suit pants outlined strong leg lines. “Mia, do you still know me?” I timidly raised my eyes, then lowered them, daring not to meet his gaze. Slowly nodded. But my fingertips and toes seemed to suddenly transmit needle-pricking pain. Like a stress reaction. I screamed. Closed my eyes tightly. Desperately shook my head. “Don’t know! Don’t hit me! I don’t know!” 3 At the dinner table, the atmosphere was weird. Mom and Dad tried hard to liven up the atmosphere. But Ethan just ate quietly. Posture noble. No intention of speaking. Making Mom and Dad’s enthusiasm very awkward. Sister’s face was dark, saying nothing. I didn’t dare to pick up dishes, only dared to eat rice in small bites. Finally endured until the meal was finished, Mom and Dad seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Watching Ethan’s leaving figure, I suddenly remembered something and stopped him: “Mr. Cole, wait a moment.” Everyone looked at me in surprise. Including Ethan. His brows furrowed slightly, obviously impatient. “Just a little bit. Okay?” I gestured a one-centimeter distance with my fingers. Saying that, I ran upstairs and soon ran down holding an iron box. Everyone’s eyes locked on me. I opened the iron box lid and asked: “Mr. Cole, this is yours, right?” On top of the iron box were a dozen ID photos. One-inch, two-inch. Obviously not obtained through regular channels. Because on the ID photos, some had steel stamps, some had solidified glue on the back. Visibly picked off from various places. Ethan in the photo was younger than now, still showing a bit of youthfulness between his brows. But his features had already grown very superior. Besides ID photos, there were some messy things. Candy wrappers, cigarette boxes, used pen refills, crumpled test papers, etc. Ethan looked at me with a torch-like gaze. I gritted my teeth before daring to continue: “Found in a corner of my wardrobe. Don’t know who put it there. But I recognized your photo, should be yours, right?” Ethan’s eyes moved slightly, seemingly with a bit of scrutiny. I was looked at by him, shrinking a few inches. Shoulders drooped. He spoke: “Not mine, throw it away.” “Oh, okay.” I threw it into the trash can beside me and was about to go upstairs. Ethan’s eyes suddenly contained a bit of danger. “Mia, you did it on purpose, right?” He stopped me. I was puzzled: “What?” He seemed to see through everything, eyes mocking, sneered. “Nothing. Acted well. Don’t act next time. I’m not interested in watching.” After saying that, he lifted his leg and left. 4 Mom closed the door. Sister held back all night, crying on the table in anger. Dad looked distressed, ultimately couldn’t hold back his anger, and slapped me. I was unprepared and fell to the ground awkwardly. Head hit the corner of the table. Buzzing pain. Mom hugged Sister’s shoulders heartbrokenly and said to me: “Mia, don’t blame your father for being harsh. Tonight, you really disappointed us too much!” “Did you forget Mom’s repeated instructions?” “Why go downstairs without permission? Why talk to him? Are you that cheap?!” Blood seeped from the wound on my forehead, flowing into my eyes. A blood mist before my eyes, vision blurred. Covering the bleeding wound, trying to explain: “Sorry, I thought he left. I didn’t mean to…” Sister suddenly grabbed my collar, hysterically said: “Dressed like that running downstairs, deliberately dangling bare feet in front of him, and taking a broken box trying to attract his attention. Mia, who are you trying to seduce!” “Do you know Ethan’s status? Do you know your own status? How dare you have designs on him?” “Do you know, because of your indiscretion tonight, I might lose him?” “Can’t you live without men? Even trying to seduce your own sister’s boyfriend!” After saying that, Sister opened the door and walked out. Mom hurried to pull Sister: “Bella, where are you going so late?” Bella looked at me hatefully: “In this house, either her or me. I’m leaving!” Soon, the sound of a car starting rang in the garage. Mom sighed deeply. Dad slammed the door in anger. I whispered: “I’ll stay out tonight?” Mom hesitated for a moment: “Where can you go?” “Stay in a hotel. Abroad, always stayed in hotels, I’m very familiar.” At that time, I couldn’t stand the inhuman torture, just wanted a chance to escape from the hospital. Stayed in the cheapest motel. Avoiding the painful treatment they arranged for me. Only, Sister always found me quickly and took me back. Mom was silent, after a while, nodded: “Tonight was indeed wrong of you. You go stay out. Wait until your sister calms down, Mom will pick you up.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389336”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The moment I woke up and realized I had been reincarnated as the “villainess,” my high heel was already digging into the hero’s abdomen. I jerked my foot back, trembling with guilt. “Look, I can explain! I want us to be—” The boy before me, cold and distant, slowly unzipped his blue-and-white varsity jacket. His eyes were downcast, his voice a low whisper. “Princess, I brought a box.” I scrambled to finish my sentence: “To be… to be best friends for life!!” The boy froze for two seconds. He gritted his teeth and pulled a square object from his pocket. “I brought you a box of… Choco Pies.” 1 The second my memories flooded back, my heel was grinding into Caleb’s stomach. I wasn’t holding back. I could see the deep red mark left on his pale skin. Caleb let out a muffled groan, the veins in his neck bulging from the pain. He was kneeling by the bed, his varsity jacket hanging open, revealing his sharp collarbones and the faint, defined lines of his abs. His long, pale fingers rested on his buttons, undoing them one by one. His eyes were cold, yet his skin was flushed with a strange, feverish pink. He looked like a masterpiece of repressed desire. I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face, and Caleb had been the most beautiful boy in any room since we were kids. He was an orphan; I’d spotted him at the shelter years ago and threw a literal temper tantrum until my dad agreed to sponsor him. From that day on, Caleb moved into the Sterling estate. I was a brat back then. I demanded that he only have eyes for me. I forced him to revolve his entire world around my whims. When I went through my rebellious phase and refused to go to school, Caleb was forced to stay back a year just to keep me company at home. Caleb obeyed my every command, but he never initiated contact. I always thought it was just his personality. I thought I had him figured out—which is why I had been planning to force myself on him tonight. I didn’t realize until this exact moment: I was the villainess. And in this story, the hero is destined to loathe me. Thinking back on a decade of my own entitled, reckless behavior, my vision went black. I shakily retracted my leg. Caleb looked up at me, his gaze dark and unreadable. “Princess?” Trying to play it cool, I knelt down and frantically tried to zip his jacket back up. My fingertips brushed against his warm skin, and I flinched as if I’d been electrocuted. “I—I’ve made a decision,” I said, clearing my throat and trying to sound sincere. “Caleb, I want us to be—” He reached into his pocket. The fabric of his jeans outlined the shape of a small, square box. “Princess,” he interrupted, “I brought a box.” I blurted out my finish: “BEST FRIENDS FOREVER!” The air in the room turned to ice. Caleb’s hand froze in his pocket. He didn’t pull the box out. After a long silence, he slowly looked up. Something dark and heavy settled in his eyes. “Choco Pies,” he said flatly. I patted his shoulder with fake enthusiasm, acting relieved. “I knew it! You really are my best friend. We’re totally on the same wavelength.” Caleb stood up slowly, straightening his clothes until he looked like the perfect, untouchable honors student again. “Princess, today is your eighteenth birthday. You specifically called me to your room just to tell me… that?” I forced myself to nod. I didn’t know why, but his expression seemed to get even colder, as if a layer of frost had settled over him. Right. This is good, I thought. Keep the distance. Fix the relationship. I added helpfully, “From now on, you don’t have to follow me around 24/7. You don’t have to come every time I call. I’m an adult now. It’s time I learned some independence.” Caleb stepped closer. He was a good head taller than me, and his shadow swallowed me whole. “Fine.” “Great! Go get some rest then.” “You don’t want your bedtime story?” “Nope! No more. I was being a brat before. I’m sorry for being such a hassle.” He stood silent for a few seconds, then turned toward the door. As he passed my vanity, his arm “accidentally” clipped a glass of water on the edge of the table. Clatter. The glass flipped, drenching him. His thin white t-shirt became instant-transparent, clinging to his skin and tracing every muscle of his torso. Water droplets slid down his hip bones and disappeared into his waistband. I subconsciously swallowed. Caleb turned to face me, tugging at the hem of his shirt. The fabric clung even tighter. “Princess, where are the napkins?” “Oh? They’re… right there…” “Could you help me dry off?” God, he looks so good. I want to touch. If this were yesterday, my inner predator would have pounced. But now, I forced myself to look away. “Men and women should keep their boundaries, Caleb. You… you should go to your room and change.” Caleb didn’t say anything. But I could feel his gaze heavy on my face, weighing me down like an interrogation. After a few beats, he finally moved. His hand lingered on the doorknob. “Princess,” he said softly. “Goodnight.” 2 The next day in class, I was leaning my head on my hand, contemplating my bleak future. The teacher tapped the whiteboard. “Everyone, listen up. We have a new transfer student. Meet Silas Vance.” The classroom erupted into whispers. “Holy crap, he’s gorgeous.” “He’s on the same level as Caleb.” “I heard he’s here on a scholarship from a rural town. Poor, but a genius.” “Wow, the classic ‘Poor but Hot’ protagonist trope?” The keywords hit me like a physical blow. I sat up straight. I realized my “awakening” was incomplete. Last night, only a general plot had entered my head—I didn’t have a list of names. The “story” said I would fall for a poor but beautiful hero and try to own him by force. He would endure my abuse until he became successful, then he’d reunite with the “poor but kind” Female Lead and ruin me. I had assumed Caleb was that guy. But now, looking at Silas, I realized the world was full of handsome, struggling guys. With my personality, it was entirely possible I’d move on to the next hot guy eventually. To be safe, I had to cast a wide net. I needed to stay on the good side of every potential protagonist. I whipped out my phone and texted my dad: “Dad! I have a brilliant plan. I’m going to sponsor every poor but talented guy I find. I’m feeling charitable. You won’t say no, right?” My dad replied instantly: “Sweetie, starting a harem is illegal. Didn’t you get the memo? Isn’t Caleb enough of a handful for you? And besides… is your heart strong enough for that many guys??” Before I could reply, a shadow fell over my desk. Silas Vance was standing over me, looking down with eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischief. “Mind if I sit here?” I had originally shared a desk with Caleb, but to “detox” myself from my dependency on him, I had made Caleb move this morning. I nodded instinctively. I hadn’t looked at Silas closely before, but up close, the class gossip was an understatement. He smirked at me, his voice smooth as silk. “Looking forward to working with you, neighbor.” The mole under his eye seemed to dance in the sunlight. I felt my face heating up. Just as I was about to say something, I felt a heavy, piercing stare from across the room. I looked over. Caleb was watching me, his dark eyes unreadable. Silas tilted his head, perfectly blocking Caleb’s line of sight. “Is something wrong?” Silas asked softly. “You look a little flushed.” I waved my hand dismissively. “No, nothing. I’m fine.” 3 The Charity Fund was set up, the company risks were mostly cleared, and I finally felt like I could breathe. I made it back to my apartment near campus before dark. I pushed the door open to find the place in total darkness. The neon lights of the city bled through the window, outlining Caleb’s lean, tall silhouette. He sat there silently, like a statue with no heat. “Why are the lights off?” I asked tentatively. “Is everything okay?” He didn’t answer. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. I put my bag down and tried to walk past him. “So you finally decided to come home.” His voice was strained, vibrating with something he was trying to hold back. “I’ve been busy with important stuff,” I explained lamely. I tried to go to my room, but he grabbed my wrist. His skin was ice cold. Caleb looked at me, emotions swirling in his eyes. “Busy with what?” He let out a sharp, cold scoff. His grip tightened. “Spending every day with that transfer student? Is he the most important thing in your world now?” “Silas? I’m just processing his scholarship paperwork. He fits the Sterling Fund criteria—” “You’re sponsoring him too?” Caleb interrupted, his brow furrowed. “What’s next? Are you going to move him in? Just like you did with me?” He took a step closer. I backed up until I hit the cold wall. “Caleb, calm down.” I tried to pull away, but his hand was trembling. “Calm?” He laughed, though there was no humor in it. “Princess, you’ve been avoiding me for a month. You made me switch seats so you could sit with Silas. Why?” My skin crawled. “What do you mean?” “Why won’t you look at me the way you used to?” His breath was on my face now, smelling of the crisp, clean scent he always had, but now it felt scorching. “Like you have for the last ten years.” He slammed his other hand against the wall by my ear, pinning me. In the dark, he was so close I could see the quiver in his eyelashes and the desperate, almost pathological possessiveness in his eyes. “Caleb,” I tried to bluff. “I’m not avoiding you. We’re still the same.” “The same?” He twisted his lips into a smirk, his eyes suddenly rimmed with red. “Then tell me. Do you love me the most?” My brain short-circuited. He went through all this drama just to get me to say I love him best? I didn’t have time to overthink. “Of course!” I said, sweating. “We’re best friends, aren’t we?” 4 The moment the words left my lips, Caleb’s expression went stone cold. He looked at me like I was a prey animal trying to act clever. “Best friends.” He repeated the words, enunciating every syllable. Then, he let go of my wrist. Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, I saw his hands go to his collar. He ripped it open. The moonlight hit his collarbones, making them look dangerously sharp. He pulled the collar down further, revealing a black leather choker around his neck. I froze. That was the “gift” I had been planning to give him on my birthday before I “woke up.” “Caleb, what are you doing—” He stepped forward, pressing his body flush against mine. I could feel his heat through my shirt. My breath hitched. “Best friends?” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. His voice was low and hoarse. “Do you think a ‘best friend’ wants to do this?” He grabbed my hand and pressed it hard against his chest. Under my palm, his heart was thumping like a drum—heavy, fast, erratic. “Does a friend feel like this?” He guided my hand down, over the hard planes of his abs, stopping right at the line of his waistband. I tried to pull back, but he held me there with terrifying strength. “Princess.” He looked down at me, his eyes overflowing with raw, naked desire. “You’re the one who taught me to be your dog.” “Now you want me to be a ‘friend’? That’s not fair.” I felt like I was seeing Caleb for the first time. The cold, obedient honors student was just a mask. “Caleb, we can’t be like this!” His pupils constricted. He spoke through gritted teeth. “Why?” “Why can’t we?” “Why don’t you want me anymore?” I couldn’t explain the “plot” to him. But I knew I couldn’t just stay silent, or he’d keep digging. I took a deep breath and put on my best “annoyed princess” face. “You ask too many questions. I’ll give you one answer. One. Ask it, and then never bother me about this again.” A long silence followed. Finally, as if making a life-altering decision, Caleb looked me in the eye. “I want to know if the Princess ever cries.” I blinked, confused. “I… of course I cry…” Caleb smirked, leaning in until our noses touched. “I mean… I want to know if I can make you cry.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389353”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel