Category: English

The system asked me to redeem the villain, but I set the time travel to the year when the villain wasn’t even an embryo. The system was dumbfounded, then reacted: “Oh, you plan to adopt the villain later and give him a complete childhood.” I shook my head, looking gently at the little girl shivering on the ground. “No, I’m here to redeem the villain’s mom.” 1 “Indeed, instead of trying to conquer the villain with love, it’s better to influence him with family affection so he won’t grow up to be a villain… Wait, what did you just say? You want to redeem the villain’s mom!” The system was shocked and quickly tried to dissuade me. “Host, did you make a mistake? If the villain isn’t successfully redeemed, you will be erased.” I chuckled lightly. “System, are you stupid? What is the main reason the villain grows crooked? Being abandoned by his mother. “And why was he abandoned by his mother? Isn’t it because his mother didn’t have a good life either? “Then if I successfully redeem the villain’s mom, won’t the villain grow up straight under the guidance of a mother with normal values?” The system crashed from my five consecutive questions. After a while, its sluggish little brain finally reacted. “What you said… seems to make sense.” I held up a finger and shook it at the system. “So don’t question us big women in the future, okay?” The system nodded dully, and I refocused my gaze on the little girl in front of me. In the cold winter of December, she was huddled outside the door like a quail wearing only a single layer of clothes, her exposed forearm skin covered with mottled red marks. Seeming to sense my gaze, she looked up at me, casting a cold glance. Then quickly lowered her head and stopped looking at me. Such a look was the reason her biological parents didn’t like her. Of course, the most important thing was that she was missing a certain body part. I walked past her, picked up the knocker on the wooden door, and knocked hard. “Who is it? Who is knocking so early in the morning!” A middle-aged woman wearing a red padded jacket walked out cursing. She looked me up and down, eyes full of disdain and hidden jealousy. “Who are you?” I got straight to the point and threw an IOU at her. “You are He Shan’s wife, right? He Shan owes me two hundred dollars. I can’t find him now, so you pay me back for him. Otherwise, I will spread the news everywhere that your husband is looking for prostitutes in the city and not paying his debts.” The woman picked up the note and panicked. “You are talking nonsense! My man is not that kind of person! You must have seduced him! I knew it from your seductive look…” Before she finished her words, I impatiently picked up a wrist-thick wooden stick from the side and broke it directly in front of her. “Paying debts is a matter of course. It’s up to you whether you give it or not.” I smiled at her, revealing eight neat teeth. The woman was scared silly, her arrogance gone. She smiled ingratiatingly. “It’s not that I don’t want to give it to you. My family really doesn’t have that much money. How about waiting for my man to come back…” I frowned, and the woman immediately fell silent. My gaze circled around her small courtyard and finally landed on the little girl squatting at the door secretly looking at me. “Then give me your girl as collateral. Although she is young, she looks not bad.” The woman was stunned. Her eyes looked at me, then at the broken stick under my feet. Ten minutes later, the little girl followed behind my butt, walking unsteadily. 2 It wasn’t until she got into the taxi to the city with me that the little girl spoke in a muffled voice. “You are a human trafficker, right? Where are you going to sell me?” I was surprised. “Why do you think so? I am your family’s creditor.” The little girl shook her head. “My mom can’t read, but I can. The paper you threw at her was clearly a supermarket receipt.” I asked the system in my mind. “Did the villain’s mom not go to school?” The system confirmed and briefly reviewed the little girl’s life for me. “Helped with farm work at home until she was sixteen. Because she didn’t want to marry a rich old man, she fled to the city to work. She schemed to sleep with a rich CEO for one night and got pregnant with the villain. Later, the CEO’s white moonlight returned to the country. The villain’s mom lost to the white moonlight and was tortured to death by the CEO. The villain’s mom is also a cannon fodder vicious supporting female.” I shook my head and clicked my tongue. “Both are vicious supporting roles. Why does the system task only redeem vicious supporting males and not supporting females? If this character setting changes gender, it becomes a gloomy and pathetic little pitiful man. To put it bluntly, she is still missing a certain body part.” Seeing me silent, the little girl pulled my sleeve. I looked over, and she immediately withdrew her hand, as if afraid of dirtying my sleeve. “Can you sell me to the city? I look okay. Selling to the city will definitely fetch a good price.” The driver in front had looked over frequently through the rearview mirror. I held my forehead and quickly explained: “I am not a human trafficker. I am just a poor mother who just lost her daughter, so I want to adopt you as my daughter.” Well, in my last mission world, I was also someone’s mom. Since I have left that world, how does it not count as losing a daughter? The little girl didn’t speak anymore. She lowered her head like a dirty kitten. Seemingly defenseless, but actually tense all over, ready to explode at any moment. I reviewed my experience as a mother and reached out to hold her red and cold little hand in my palm. This grip made me realize that her hand was frighteningly rough and full of calluses. Meeting her sanpaku eyes, I took off my coat and put it on her. She subconsciously wanted to take it off. I stopped her. “If you freeze, you won’t sell for a good price.” Her body stiffened and didn’t move, just wrapped herself tightly in the down jacket, revealing a fluffy head. My heart softened suddenly. “Don’t worry, I don’t have a son. I won’t sell you for a bride price in the future.” 3 My identity in this world is a fake daughter who just jumped into the river in despair after learning her identity. She died, so I just borrowed her identity. When I stepped into the villa gate with the little girl, a voice was still persuading the real daughter. “Although she is not related to us by blood, the feelings of so many years are real. Moreover, although Julian should have been your fiancé, it is Lulu who has had feelings for him for so many years. How can we give him to you?” “I don’t listen to this. If it weren’t for her, how could I have suffered for so many years! Now you still favor her. I hate you, I hate you!” The dispute between the two stopped abruptly after I stepped into the house carrying Xixi. Xixi is the name I gave the little girl on the way, following my surname, full name Hua Xi. The real daughter, Hua Ting, turned her head away, not wanting to see me. Mother Hua asked me gently. “Lulu, who is this?” “My adopted daughter, Hua Xi. Xixi, say hello to your grandma and aunt.” With the help of the system, Xixi, who had just been registered, finally stopped suspecting that I was a human trafficker. At this moment, she just greeted the two people who were stunned on the spot obediently. “Hello Grandma, hello Auntie.” Mother Hua reacted first. “Wait, Lulu, who did you just say she is? Your adopted daughter? Registered? Why didn’t you discuss such a big matter with the family in advance? And your fiancé Julian, how can he accept this!” Hua Ting’s focus was: “Why should she call me Auntie? I don’t want you to be my sister!” Before I spoke, Xixi subconsciously stood in front of me. She bent slightly, arms tense, like a mother leopard protecting her cub. I was stunned and reached out to hold her small hand. “It’s complicated. I’ll explain to you after Xixi settles down. As for Julian, I will break off the engagement with him.” Mother Hua was anxious. “Are you worried that your dad and I won’t want you after Tingting is found? Don’t worry, you will always be our daughter.” Hua Ting rolled her eyes. “Here we go again, retreating to advance, right? Damn green tea.” I shook my head and pulled Xixi to the second floor. By the way, I threw a bombshell at them. “I went for sterilization surgery. I plan not to marry or have children in the future and devote myself to raising Xixi. Tell Julian to give up too.” After speaking, I silently pulled Xixi and disappeared from their sight, leaving only the two of them savoring the “sterilization surgery” in my mouth, messy in the wind. 4 Arriving in the room, I collapsed directly on the bed. The system was still babbling. “Host, when did you go for sterilization surgery? Why didn’t I know! Aren’t we together all day!” I rolled my eyes. “System, are you stupid? If I didn’t say this, how could the real daughter let down her guard against me? “Instead of engaging in sisterly love, it’s more practical for me to directly give up the right to inherit the family property.” System: “Right.” I suddenly remembered something, turned my head, and sure enough saw a certain small dumpling still standing straight at the door. On the way here, I bought her new clothes and took her to a barbershop to wash her hair, asking the barber to tie two buns for her. Looking like a doll in a New Year picture. I waved at her. Xixi moved over slowly. “Are you going to be kicked out of the house?” I pulled her to sit on the bed and asked her: “Why do you think so?” She whispered: “Because you are not their biological daughter.” I looked at Xixi’s pointed chin. Good, this kid is smart and definitely won’t need my tutoring. I didn’t explain immediately, just followed her words. “Then what if we are kicked out of the house and penniless?” She said seriously: “Then I will go farming to support you. I am very good at farming. I can compost, sow, and weed. The cornfield behind my house was planted by me.” Her head lowered more and more. “As long as you don’t send me back.” I finally knew where all the calluses on her hands came from. My heart soured suddenly. I hugged her in my arms, letting her pointed little chin rest on my broad shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t send you away, never in this life.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388595”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Rhys Kincaid, my husband, told me he was a ‘Narrative Corrector’, the linchpin who would lead me to save the world from the Xylosian Swarm. He promised I would stand beside him, revered by the masses. Now, I was a captive of the Swarm, ravaged and parasitized, my body a living incubator for alien spawn. In the throes of sheer, blinding despair, I subconsciously forced a connection to Rhys’s secure comm-channel. I heard his conversation with the World-Mind, the cosmic conscience of our reality. “Rhys,” the voice echoed, laced with urgency, “I tasked you with correcting the timeline to save the world. Why, then, have you delivered your own wife to the Swarm?” Rhys’s tone was cold, clinical. “My trade with the Swarm ensures the world’s survival.” “They originally requested Willow, but she’s too delicate. She wouldn’t survive the production process. Besides, she and I share a co-life contract. Rowan Maxwell had to substitute. Once this is over, I will compensate her.” It was him. The man who had sworn to protect me was the one who had condemned me to this hell. As the alien creatures violated my body to implant their eggs, I closed my eyes, the fight draining out of me… 1 “Initiating the delivery of the three-hundred and sixty-seventh spawn!” Something vast and foul writhed inside me. A tearing, seismic pain shot up from below. I jolted awake from a brief, merciful blackout. Faintly, the voices came again—the World-Mind and Rhys. “How much longer until your deal with the Swarm is complete?” Rhys’s voice was utterly devoid of emotion. “Who knows. I promised the Swarm that Rowan would incubate a thousand eggs for them. We are nowhere near done.” The World-Mind hesitated, a sound of genuine pity cutting through the link. “But your wife is fading fast. She’s been in continuous labor for nearly three days, enduring birth trauma every ten minutes. We must extract her. We need to find another way.” “No!” Rhys’s refusal was immediate, final. “A third of the task is complete. We will not abandon the path now.” A bitter, chilling agony spread through my chest, eclipsing the physical pain. I closed my eyes in self-mockery. Five years into the Xylosian invasion of the Stellar Union, I had developed the Bio-Interference Serum, the first effective counter to the Swarm’s communication system. I’d risked my life going out to find more Xylosian samples for precision testing. The Stellar Government had assigned a full protection detail, but Rhys had stepped in, insisting he protect me himself. I thought it was love—a husband’s deep-seated devotion. It was only days ago I realized the truth: a cold-blooded manipulation designed to modify the timeline and seal his bargain. Freshly hatched Xylosian young, no bigger than my thumb, crawled onto my chest. Their needle-like mouthparts pierced my skin, drawing out a foul, nutrient-rich fluid. A fierce jolt of agony made my entire body seize, followed by another sickening tear below. I couldn’t hold back the scream, the tears blurring my vision until my face was slick with them. I couldn’t accept that Rhys could do this to me. We were high school sweethearts, inseparable. He, the rising star of the Stellar Fleet, claimed he was sick of the cold, dynastic politics of the elite families and only wanted a simple, happy life with me. I had defied my own family’s expectations and married him. When the Swarm attacked, I worked relentlessly, driven by the desire to be a partner worthy of standing beside him. I risked parasitism every day, immersed in my research. I finally cracked the code—the Serum—three months into my own pregnancy. Now, I was a disgusting, broken vessel, a mother bug, endlessly spawning alien larvae. My own child, the one Rhys and I had made, was nothing but a casualty, a forgotten source of nutrition. Suddenly, the World-Mind’s voice was frantic in the comm-link. “Rhys, the Hive Lord is approaching! Rowan can withstand the drones, but if the Hive Lord violates her, she will die!” Silence. Rhys was silent. I waited, a sliver of desperate hope flickering. Maybe the years of marriage, the shared history, would finally break through. Maybe he would save me. His cold, flat voice crushed that hope to dust. “She can take it.” The World-Mind sounded genuinely horrified. “Rhys, she is your wife! Even to save the world, how can you let her endure this?” “Since she is my wife, it is her duty to shoulder my burdens,” he snapped. His voice rose, edged with a frantic, volatile energy. “In the last timeline, the Swarm won. We all died. It was Willow, her sacrifice, that bought us this reboot. I signed a co-life contract with her—if she dies, I die. I will not let her come to harm this time. As for Rowan, once she has birthed the eggs, I will compensate her.” It wasn’t just me he was sacrificing. He was doing it for her. He had always claimed Willow Sinclair sacrificed her life to grant him this do-over. The co-life contract, he said, bound them in life and death. That explained the endless indulgence. Willow wanted to be in the Research Corps, so he pulled strings to make her my assistant. She wanted to travel with the fleet, and he defied the government to keep her close. I fought him on it countless times. Each time, he would pull me into his arms, his voice steady and earnest: “Ro, you are my wife, the only woman I truly love. Willow is just… a sister. She has no one. I’m just looking out for her.” But I never imagined he would sacrifice my life to protect hers. I watched the massive, grotesque body of the Hive Lord slither slowly toward me. I closed my eyes, resigning myself to oblivion. I woke up in a medical bay, surrounded by ruin. Rhys was there, kneeling beside the gurney. His eyes were red, his expression a mask of profound grief. “Ro, I’m so sorry. I failed to protect you.” I looked at that face, the one I had been so madly in love with, and felt a scorching hatred that made my bones ache. I wanted to see him reduced to dust. I masked the venom in my eyes, letting a few weak tears slip down my cheeks. My voice was barely a whisper. “Rhys… why did it take you so long to come for me?” The hand stroking my hair flinched, and his eyes darted away, thick with guilt. “The fleet was cut off by the Swarm. We fought for a week straight before we could breach the perimeter and find you.” “I will protect you from now on, Ro. I promise. No matter what state you are in, I will always love you.” He covered my naked, broken body with his own uniform and carried me back to the base. The medics gasped when they saw my body—the raw, destroyed tissue on my chest, the horrific trauma below. What terrified them more were the hundreds of unhatched eggs still lodged deep in my uterus and lower intestine. They feared infection and mutation. No one moved to touch me. Rhys’s face darkened. He snarled, “What are you waiting for? Save her! If she dies, I’ll take this entire base down with her.” The staff exchanged silent, panicked looks. They remained frozen. Then, a tall figure in a clean white coat stepped forward, calmly taking charge of my wounds. Rhys remained by my side, murmuring soft reassurances. “Just a little longer, Ro. Don’t be afraid. I’m right here.” A cold, metallic device entered my body, meticulously extracting the remaining eggs. The fresh trauma to my wounds was too much. I blacked out again. When I next awoke, Rhys was holding my hand, his face etched with sorrow. “Ro, trust me. I will exterminate the Swarm one day. I will avenge you.” I closed my eyes, unable to look at his fake sincerity any longer. My love, my hope, my respect for him—it was all gone. Now, only profound disappointment and hate remained. Rhys was about to speak again, but a sickeningly sweet voice interrupted him. “Rhys, darling, I heard you were back.” Willow Sinclair walked in, looking like a celebrity arriving at a gala. Her fluffy skirt, lace, and ribbons made her look utterly ridiculous and completely out of place in a war-torn medical bay. While I had been covered in filth, working myself sick in a lab coat, Rhys had kept her blooming like an exotic flower. The moment she saw me, Willow let out a theatrical shriek and recoiled, burying her face in Rhys’s chest in manufactured terror. “Ah! A ghoul!” Rhys smiled indulgently, stroking her hair. “It’s okay, Willow. It’s just Ro.” Willow stared at me, her eyes wide with feigned shock, then turned a tearful, wounded expression to Rhys. “Rhys, I… I didn’t know it was Ro. She looks so terrifying. I didn’t mean it.” Rhys just hushed her, his comfort focused entirely on Willow. I managed a cold, internal sneer. She insulted me, but she gets the sympathy. Rhys used to accuse me of being jealous, paranoid, claiming he and Willow were innocent. I had clung to the belief that his love for me was real. Reality had just punched me in the face—repeatedly. Rhys left, citing urgent fleet business, but left Willow to ‘look after me.’ She stepped closer, her expression shifting to one of undisguised revulsion. “Disgusting. Ro, just look at you. Aren’t you sickened by yourself?” “I heard the doctors pulled hundreds of eggs out of you. Rhys is putting on a brave face, but he must be utterly repulsed. If I were you, I’d take my own life. I wouldn’t have the face to live.” I chuckled, a hollow sound. “You don’t need to worry about my husband and me.” We were legally married, protected by the Stellar Union’s laws. As long as that piece of paper existed, Willow was nothing more than an ugly footnote. Willow’s face contorted into something genuinely ugly. She lunged, pinching the raw, exposed flesh on my chest wound. “You filthy slut, violated by the Swarm! Why do you still cling to his side?” “As Rhys’s true intended, I have to clean up his messes and dispose of you.” She pulled out two injectors. A cold dread, colder than the metal on my body, seized me. “What are you doing?” I rasped. “You’re riddled with eggs. You must be parasitized.” “One of these is the Xeno-Inhibitor. The other is a Xylosian Pheromone Accelerant. I was torn, but Rhys said you’ve produced so many already, why not just let you transform into the disgusting, low creature you are?” I stared at Willow, horrified. I couldn’t believe it. I had led a team to develop the Inhibitor—the one thing that could save countless citizens from mutation. My life’s work, about to shock the entire Stellar Union. Rhys had given my crowning achievement to Willow. And now he intended to turn me into a monster. I was already compromised. The Inhibitor was my only hope. The Accelerant would seal my fate. Rhys was sacrificing me, then turning me into a monster, all for Willow. “Willow Sinclair, you wouldn’t dare!” My eyes bulged. I struggled to sit up, but the movement ripped open my wounds, sending a searing shockwave through me. “Don’t fight, Ro.” “I’ll take your place by Rhys’s side, adored by the public. You, my dear, can rot in hell.” She slammed one of the injectors into my arm. The Pheromone was a corrosive fire. My cells began to tear and boil. I screamed as the world dissolved into blackness. When I next awoke, my mind was foggy, my body numb with a constant, deep ache. I demanded to see Rhys. The nurses told me he and his fleet had already left for the Capitol Station. A suffocating dread settled over me. Without the Inhibitor, I would mutate into a monster. Begging and pleading, I managed to convince a small rescue team to pursue the fleet. We were lucky—a solar flare anomaly had delayed their take-off. The fear of turning into one of them fueled a desperate, agonizing crawl. I fell at Rhys’s feet, begging him for one dose of the Inhibitor. He looked down at me, his face hard and cold. “Ro, stop this theatrics. This batch of Inhibitor is critical. It must be delivered to Capitol for mass production. I cannot afford to waste a single dose.” I was stunned. I couldn’t believe he refused. Even the accompanying medical staff were appalled. “Commander, Ms. Maxwell will mutate without the Inhibitor! She’s your wife. How can you treat her like this?” Rhys shot me a look so venomous, it made me shiver. “Rowan, you’ll stoop to hiring actors now?” “Willow already gave you the Inhibitor. You are trying to frame her. I have a mission. I don’t have time for your childish, jealous games.” He turned, not even looking back, and strode toward his ship, ordering an immediate launch. The vessel was already spooling up its engines. I grabbed his pant leg, humiliating myself with a final, broken plea. “Rhys, I genuinely need one dose! Just one. Give it to me, and I’ll agree to the divorce. You can have Willow. You can have everything.” My offer only seemed to enrage him. His face darkened. He roughly shook my hand off. “Rowan Maxwell, you wouldn’t dare.” “You will stay here at the base and reflect. I’ll come back for you when you’ve recovered.” He stepped into the ship, reaching for Willow Sinclair, who was waiting at the hatchway, watching us. Willow gave me a sweet, victorious smile. My heart sank, plummeting into a bottomless void. I collapsed onto the tarmac, laughing—a choked, hysterical sound. The laughter seized up, and a horrific surge of blood and raw tissue churned up my throat. I vomited a mouthful of viscera onto the metal deck. The accompanying medics screamed, “She’s transforming! Get back!” A few nurses wanted to help, but the fear of parasitism kept them rooted to the spot, their faces masks of anguish. I would not become a monster. I asked the medic for a blade. I handed them a data file and a video log. “When I am gone, please give this to Rhys Kincaid.” As I plunged the blade into my own heart, a sterile voice echoed in Rhys Kincaid’s mind: “Co-Life Contract Partner Deceased. Commencing Life Countdown.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388611”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In the third year of our arranged marriage, I discovered my husband, Julian, was keeping a young mistress. He cut his overseas meeting short and flew back overnight. “She won’t affect your status as Mrs. Sterling. “So, don’t touch her.” The man who was usually unflappable now couldn’t hide the anxiety in his eyes. Terrified that I would hurt the person at the tip of his heart. I nodded, said nothing, and turned to leave. Julian was used to being the heir to an empire. But I still wasn’t used to being a socialite wife who danced with wolves. What suited me best was still the barren land ten thousand miles away. 1 Julian came back fast. 5 AM. I leaned against the sofa, my head throbbing. Leather shoes stopped in my line of sight. “She’s already moved out.” His voice was calm. I nodded. “Fast.” Worthy of the decisive CEO Sterling. Able to comfort and settle his lover in one night, then come home to clean up the mess. I stood up, wanting to go back to my room for a nap. As we brushed past each other. He grabbed my forearm. “This was an accident. In the future, she won’t affect your position as Mrs. Sterling. “So, Leah, don’t touch her.” His gentle tone carried a warning that couldn’t be ignored. I looked down. Julian was still wearing our wedding band on his ring finger. The plain platinum band glinted in the dim light of the floor lamp. “Julian,” I heard my own voice, “what is your relationship?” Asking it, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. A man hiding a young, beautiful girl in a villa for years… what else could it be? Before he could speak, I broke free from his grip. “It doesn’t matter.” I thought I maintained the dignity an adult should have. But I don’t know what triggered Julian. “Leah Vance, you don’t need to be like this.” A layer of anger coated his eyes. “From the beginning, this was a business marriage. We each take what we need. “In this circle, who doesn’t have women outside?” It felt like a silver needle piercing my heart. “Are you making excuses for yourself, or do you really think that?” I looked at him calmly. “Other wives might accept it, but I can’t.” 2 Discovering Bella was an accident. In a vacant villa in the Hamptons. She stood on the stairs in a white dress. When our eyes met, hers were panicked. “Leah… why are you here?” When my mom was alive, she often took me to see the students she sponsored. Bella was one of them. After Mom died, I went to the Middle East and never saw Bella again. I didn’t expect our reunion to be like this. 3 Back in my room, I lay in bed. Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep well. Gunshots, explosions, crying filled my dreams. I asked the Chief of Surgery to fill my schedule with operations, leaving no time to think about anything else. Just after finishing a night shift, I walked out of the hospital. I saw Julian’s driver trotting over. “Ma’am, Mr. Sterling asked me to pick you up for the Old Master’s birthday banquet.” I remembered then. It was Julian’s grandfather’s birthday. I took a deep breath and sat in the back seat. No one else was inside, only two exquisitely wrapped gift boxes. Julian had prepared the gift and the dress I was to wear. I didn’t take them. I asked the driver to detour, and I bought a gift myself. In my three years at the Sterling house, Old Master Sterling had always treated me sincerely. Before we parted ways, I should go see him. 4 The historic Sterling estate was brilliantly lit tonight. When I walked in, Julian’s friends greeted me. “Sister-in-law, you’re finally here. Our Julian is turning into a stone waiting for his wife tonight.” In the past, they always joked like this. Making me think Julian was just cold by nature and bad at expressing himself, but had me in his heart. Until I saw Bella yesterday, I realized being loved was just my hallucination. Trust in his character was just my naivety. “If you don’t want your mouth, sew it up.” Julian’s voice came from behind. Max laughed roguishly: “Clearly loves his wife to death but acts tough. Bro, be careful or you’ll be chasing your wife in the crematorium later.” Julian glanced at him, then at me, opening his mouth. I stepped away. Ignoring his changing expression. I didn’t come to see him anyway. After seeing Old Master Sterling and giving my blessings. As I was leaving, I accidentally bumped into a waiter carrying red wine. I went upstairs to change. When I came out, voices came from the next room. “Leah knows about Bella? No wonder she looked bad just now.” I stopped. “Did she make a scene?” “No.” “Julian, what if Leah makes you cut ties with Bella?” Silence for a few seconds, then Julian’s voice sounded. “Bella never asked for status. If Leah is smart, she should know her boundaries.” Someone chimed in: “Tsk tsk, Julian, watching you care so much about Leah these past few years, I thought you really fell for her.” Through the crack in the door, Julian’s face was grim. “Just a marriage alliance.” Someone agreed: “Bella went to war zones as a volunteer exchange student. Our Julian was a war correspondent there too. Someone like Leah, born with a silver spoon, can’t resonate with Julian’s soul like Bella can.” “Exactly. With Leah’s cold, aloof personality, I wouldn’t want to get close even if she’s beautiful. Bella is sweet and sensible.” Max snorted coldly: “Ungrateful bastards. Last month when your mom was sick, Leah did the surgery herself.” “She’s a doctor, isn’t that her job? Why are you defending her so much? If Julian divorces her, you marry her then.” “Damn it!” Max raised his voice and grabbed the guy’s collar. “Enough!” Julian shouted low. “Even if I don’t love Leah Vance, she is still my wife. It’s not your place to joke about her.” I didn’t want to listen anymore. I left the banquet. Those years rooted in the Middle East, the Vance family claimed I was studying abroad. So few knew about that experience. After all these years, I still disliked this glitzy vanity fair. I guess it’s because Julian and I were never compatible to begin with. Separating now isn’t a bad thing. Back home, I opened the back of a drawer. I took out the divorce agreement prepared before the marriage. I signed my name stroke by stroke, then put it back on top. On my phone video, Syria was engulfed in war, starving bodies everywhere. A little boy smiled bitterly at the camera: “Children here don’t grow up.” Julian was right. Who in this circle didn’t have women outside? It’s just that. He is used to being a wealthy heir now. But I’m not used to being a socialite wife. What suits me best is still the barren land ten thousand miles away.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388627”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chapter 1 After getting my year-end bonus, I bought my grad student boyfriend a pair of limited-edition Jordans. I didn’t expect to see them listed on Facebook Marketplace the very next day for twenty percent of the price. The box wasn’t even opened. I bought them immediately. After confirming the pickup, I called my boyfriend. “Babe, do you like the little surprise I got you?” Brad sounded confused. “What surprise?” I smiled, feigning disappointment. “I hid a vintage Patek Philippe watch inside the shoe box. It cost over seventy thousand dollars. You didn’t see it?” … I was scrolling through Marketplace over the weekend when I saw a local listing. [Limited Edition Jordans, Size 10.5, Brand New in Box. Urgent Sale! Only $300!] I stared at the text, frozen. I had just bought these shoes two days ago. Same style, same size. Because they were limited edition and a rare size, I stayed up for three nights in a row to snag them on the drop. I spent over a grand to get them. Maybe they were fakes? I tapped on the post and swiped through the photos. I stopped cold when I saw the wrapping paper around the shoe box. It was matte grey with subtle silver embossing. Exactly what I had chosen. The standard shipping box was too plain, so I had gone to two different boutiques to find this specific wrapping paper. I picked the understated grey because I was afraid Brad would think it was too flashy. I told myself it might be a coincidence, but my fingertips were turning ice cold. I clicked on the seller’s profile. The location was right here in Chicago. I sat in silence for a moment, then hit the “Message” button. “Hi, are these still available? Are they authentic? Why so cheap?” The reply was instant. “Don’t worry, they’re 100% real. Shipped directly from the flagship store. I haven’t even taken the wrapping off.” Then, he sent a screenshot of the tracking info. Receiver: Brad. Sender: My Amazon account name. I almost dropped my phone. The seller was definitely my boyfriend, Brad. I had sent him that exact tracking screenshot myself. My fingers went stiff. I took a deep breath and clicked on his seller profile, scrolling down. We’d been together for six months. Almost everything I had given him was listed there. The noise-canceling headphones I gave him for our one-month anniversary. Listed for $150. The gaming console for our 100-day anniversary. Listed for $250. The latest iPad Pro I bought him recently because he said he needed it for research. Listed for $600. All marked as “Sold.” And a scarf. I had knitted it myself last winter. My fingers had blistered from the needles. He had hugged me then, swearing he’d wear it forever. Now it was listed for $10. The description read: Gift from a friend. Not my style. Just sitting around. I stared at those words, nausea rising in my throat. Since we started dating, Brad asked for gifts constantly. There was always a reason. One-month anniversary, 100 days, his birthday, his thesis proposal getting approved… I bought something every time. I’ve been working for two years; he’s still in grad school. I figured he had no income, so I tried to spare him any expense. So even when his return gifts were just cheap snack boxes or freebies he got from online promos, I never said anything. I thought I was being understanding. Now I see it. To him, I was just an ATM. A new message popped up. “Hey beautiful, you still interested? If you’re serious, I can lower the price a bit. I can ship it out today.” Chapter 2 I stared at the message, a mix of emotions churning in my gut. Should I expose him right now, break up, and tell him to get lost? No, that would be letting him off too easy. After thinking for a moment, I backed out of the chat and changed the shipping address to my best friend Sarah’s apartment complex. Once I confirmed everything, I clicked “Buy Now.” The moment the payment went through, a new message popped up. “Thanks for the quick payment! I see you’re local. I’ll Uber Connect it to you right now! Please confirm receipt as soon as you get it, I really need the cash!” I stared at the text and replied: “Sure, send it.” An hour later, I was holding the package at Sarah’s place. The shoe box was pristine. The seal was unbroken. The gift card I had specifically asked the brand to include was still tucked into the side slit. He hadn’t even opened it. “Aren’t those the shoes you gave Brad?” Sarah frowned, leaning in. “What’s going on?” I handed her my phone and let her scroll through the Marketplace history herself. Sarah flipped through a couple of pages, her face getting colder by the second. “That scumbag!” she hissed. “What are you gonna do? March over to campus and slap him?” I shook my head. “That’s boring.” If he dares to cash out on me, I’m going to make sure he loses everything. Just then, another notification popped up from the app. “Hey, the driver says it was delivered. Could you confirm receipt on the app? I really need the money urgently. Trying to buy a birthday gift for my girlfriend.” I froze. Girlfriend? My birthday is in October. It’s March. Which girlfriend is he buying a gift for? Sarah saw it too and let out a cold laugh. “Looks like this piece of trash isn’t just using you for money, he’s cheating too! Unbelievable.” I didn’t say a word. I clicked “Confirm Receipt.” The second the money transferred, I picked up a utility knife from Sarah’s counter. I gently sliced a cut across the outer wrapping of the shoe box. I took a photo and sent it to Brad’s seller account. “Hi, I just started opening the package and noticed a tear here.” Brad exploded immediately. “No way, lady! It was perfect when I gave it to the driver! Not a scratch on the packaging! You did that yourself!” “You didn’t check it upon delivery. You already signed for it and now you’re claiming damage? Who knows if you cut it yourself trying to get a refund? No way!” “You already confirmed the receipt! Whether it’s broken or not has nothing to do with me now! Don’t try to scam me!” Before I could reply, he blocked me. I smiled. That was exactly the guarantee I was waiting for. Whether it’s broken or not has nothing to do with him. I switched to iMessage and called Brad immediately. He picked up, his voice cheerful. “Hey babe, what’s up? Miss me?” I replied, “Yeah. Just wanted to ask, did you get the shoes? Do they fit?” Silence on the other end for a split second. “I got them,” he said, sounding slightly unnatural. “They fit great. But honestly, babe… I don’t really like them.” “Oh? Why not?” “I’m a second-year grad student. I’m about to start interviewing for internships. Wearing thousand-dollar sneakers feels a bit… juvenile.” He paused, softening his tone deliberately. “I know you meant well, but I need a mature, professional image right now. These shoes just don’t suit me.” I curled my lip. “Is that so? Then return them. The official site has a 7-day return policy. As long as you haven’t worn them outside, you can return them. They cost over a grand. Return them and I’ll get you something more mature.” Chapter 3 “Don’t!” he interrupted sharply. “But didn’t you say you didn’t like them?” “I… I actually wore them outside already,” he said, speaking faster. “There’s dirt on the soles, and I threw the box away. Definitely can’t return them.” “Oh,” I drawled. “Never mind then. But do you really think they’re childish?” “Yeah,” his tone returned to that calm, almost lecturing vibe. “Chloe, don’t buy me stuff like this anymore. I won’t have many chances to wear it. I’m about to start my internship. If you really want to get me something, buy something practical.” “Like what?” “Like a watch, or the new iPhone. That fits my status better. It looks good when I meet clients.” I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned white. He hasn’t even graduated, and he’s talking to me about status. No wonder he thought the shoes were childish. He was setting the stage for this. I suddenly remembered when I sent him the order screenshot three days ago, he just replied with “Cool.” I thought he was busy. I didn’t expect him to be so disappointed he couldn’t even fake enthusiasm. “You’re right,” I said slowly. “I agree. You’re starting your career; you need to look the part.” Brad sounded thrilled. “Right? I knew you’d understand! Actually, I saw a Longines watch, it’s only about two grand, if you…” I cut him off. “That’s why I hid a watch in the shoe box. A vintage Patek Philippe. You didn’t see it?” Dead silence on the other end. I could only hear his breathing getting heavier. A few seconds later, Brad’s voice cracked. “What?” “A Patek Philippe,” I said innocently. “It’s at the very bottom of the box, wrapped in velvet. You didn’t open it? There’s a handwritten letter from me in there too.” “I…” He stammered. “You put a watch inside the shoe box?” “Yeah,” I sighed. “If I knew you didn’t like the shoes, I would have just given you the watch. That thing was so expensive. My heart hurt when I swiped the card.” I heard a dull thud on the other end, like a fist hitting a table. Then, a girl’s lowered, whiny voice: “What are you doing? Why are you mad…” Brad lowered his voice too, sounding frantic. “Because you wanted that bag! How else could I sell the shoes so fast?! This is a disaster! We lost big time!” The girl scoffed. “I told you they were limited edition. The price would go up if you held them. You’re the one who insisted on selling…” “If I didn’t sell them now, how would I get them in time for your birthday?!” I pretended not to hear their whispers and asked with concern: “Brad? Are you okay?” “Nothing,” his voice was dry. “Chloe, did you just say… how much was that watch?” “Over seventy thousand,” I said casually. “I was going to buy a new car, but I thought you needed a good watch for your interviews more. So I bought it.” “Seventy thousand?” His voice started to tremble. “Where did you get that kind of money?” “Year-end bonus,” I said, sounding aggrieved. “My project did really well this year. I got an eighty-five thousand dollar bonus. I spent almost all of it on your watch.” “You…” He gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” “I wanted it to be a surprise.” I paused, then injected panic into my voice. “Wait, why are you asking like that? Is the watch missing?” “I… might have missed it…” He was rambling now. “I haven’t looked at the box closely…” “Go look for it!” I shouted. “It’s a classic model. Even second-hand, it’s worth forty or fifty grand! If it’s lost, I’m going to die!” I sent Brad a photo of the watch and the receipt from the boutique. “Look, this style suits you perfectly. It’s a bit mature, but you can wear it for years.” Chapter 4 Brad didn’t speak. I could only hear his heavy breathing and the faint sound of the girl trying to comfort him in the background. After a long while, he squeezed out a sentence in a hoarse voice: “Chloe, something urgent came up. I have to go…” The moment he hung up, a notification popped up on my Marketplace app. “Hey! Are you there?! Urgent!” “Do you still have the shoes you just bought from me? Don’t open them! I’ll buy them back! $500? $1000? Whatever!” “Please!” I typed back slowly: “Just finished dinner. Was about to open them. What’s up?” He replied instantly: “Don’t open it! There’s something really important in the box!” “What is it?” He typed for a long time, the dots dancing, before sending: “Actually, these shoes were a New Year’s gift from my girlfriend. There’s a handwritten letter inside. It’s not worth money, but it means a lot to me. If she finds out I sold the shoes and the letter, she’ll break up with me. Please, have a heart. Sell them back to me. I’ll pay $2000. Okay?” I stared at the words “handwritten letter” and laughed. First it was a gift from a friend, now it’s a girlfriend. Lying without blinking. Clearly not his first rodeo. I deliberately didn’t reply. He panicked. “Why are you like this? I said I’d pay extra!” “Give me your address, I’ll come pick it up right now!” “If you don’t reply, I’m calling the police!” I took a screenshot of our chat where he said “Whether it’s broken or not has nothing to do with me” and sent it to him. “Police? You said it yourself, once it’s sold, it’s not your problem! What, changing your mind now? Selling a gift your girlfriend gave you… you must be desperate for cash. I feel sorry for her!!” The typing indicator flashed for ages. Finally, he blurted out: “How much do you want to give it back?” I thought for a moment and typed a number: “$5,000.” I expected him to curse me out and haggle. Instead, he agreed instantly. “Fine! Five grand! Done!” I raised an eyebrow. Seems a seventy-thousand-dollar watch is worth the investment. I reposted the listing. Brad bought it instantly. After paying, he sent a flurry of messages. “Use Uber Connect! I’ll pay for the ride! Hurry!” “Pack it well! Don’t let it get damaged!” I had Sarah’s family driver call a courier. In front of the courier, I put the shoe box back into a bag and sealed it. I recorded the whole process and sent it to Brad. “Sent. Remember to confirm receipt when you get it.” He replied, “Ok.” After the courier left, I switched back to text messages and messaged Brad: “Babe, did you find the watch?” “Do you like the style? Should we exchange it for something else?” “Why aren’t you answering? Are you busy?” He didn’t reply to a single one. An hour later, the app showed delivered. A notification popped up: “Transaction Successful.” Almost simultaneously, Brad’s text came through: “Babe, I found the watch! It’s beautiful! Suits me perfectly! Thank you! Love you!” I smiled. He probably hadn’t opened the box yet and just wanted to stall me. Unfortunately, his peace only lasted ten seconds. Ten seconds later, my Marketplace inbox exploded.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388643”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Asher always insisted on boundaries. Pathological ones, if I’m being honest. When we married five years ago, he bought both units on the top floor—a classic two-unit landing. He lives in the penthouse. I live in the condo across the hall. Except for our scheduled, once-a-week encounters, he absolutely forbade me from setting foot in his apartment. Tonight, after the obligatory performance, I was exhausted. I reached for a glass on his nightstand, not thinking, and drank from it. He watched me, his expression hardening with a visceral disgust I’d only ever seen reserved for me. He didn’t just toss the cup; he used a paper towel to handle the glass, then dropped the expensive crystal tumbler into the trash like it was biohazard waste. The slam of the door. He didn’t just close it; he detonated the sound, shutting me out and sealing me in the cold hallway. The accumulated sting of years rushed up, hot and fast. I found myself unlocking my phone and posting a rant on a popular forum, venting about my husband’s almost clinical need for distance. I never expected the post to go viral. [Oh my god, isn’t this the famous ‘Penthouse King’ from the city’s old gossip threads? Asher Wilde.] [The one who chased Willow Avery? He’d buy any apartment she rented and then offer her free rent just to get her to live near him.] [LOL, he was absolutely obsessed. Total simp.] [I used to see them at the university night market. She’d take one bite of something and drop the rest in his bowl. He’d just eat it, grinning like a fool. He didn’t even care if it was gross.] 1 [Wait—the poster isn’t Willow Avery! Holy hell, the OTP broke up?] [Goes to show, for a guy like that, if he can’t have the one he truly wants, everyone else is just a consolation prize.] [Asher was so publicly devoted to Willow, and now he’s married to the poster and acting like this? The irony is incredible.] [Y’all are really dragging the OP through the mud here! She’s the one married to him!] Six thousand eight hundred comments. They didn’t just piece together a man; they constructed an Asher Wilde I had never met. Not the cold, distant husband who always walked into Hawthorne Corp. ten minutes ahead of me to ensure we never crossed paths. They described a boyfriend who was earnest, dramatic, and intensely public with his love. He had once leased the largest digital billboard in Midtown for an entire week, broadcasting only her photo and the caption: Willow Avery, I love you. It was never about boundaries. It was about me. The truth was brutal: I had never, for a single moment, been inside his heart. The only boundary he needed was the one separating me from the woman he loved. So why had he married me? I moved my suddenly leaden legs. I broke his cardinal rule—never approach him at Hawthorne Corp.—and pressed the button for the executive floor. I desperately needed an answer. The elevator doors opened onto a hub of excited chatter. “Ten years at Thorne, and I’ve never seen Mr. Wilde look so panicked.” “I know! He never cancels for personal stuff. Liu the driver said he was speeding home.” “I think I heard him whisper ‘Will’ as he was leaving…” “His ex must be back. Looks like Hawthorne might finally get a real First Lady.” Five years of marriage. Five years of my cajoling, crying, and silent treatments, and Asher never once agreed to make our relationship public. Willow Avery achieved it with a single phone call. Was he avoiding the trouble of a public marriage, or was he afraid his ex would be upset, jeopardizing their reunion? I managed to steady my hands, drove home, and started knocking. He wasn’t answering his phone. Every time we slept together, he changed the lock code before I woke up. I lived in the separate unit, isolated and alone. I used to tell myself he simply had a quirk, an inability to share his space twenty-four/seven. Now, I realized I was just the woman he summoned and dismissed. His temporary placeholder. His… The word was too humiliating to even form in my head. I stopped knocking and started pounding. “Asher! Open this door!” The door finally opened. But it wasn’t Asher, and it wasn’t Willow. It was a haggard, middle-aged woman with stark white hair. She turned, her voice hoarse, and called toward the kitchen, “Ash, a friend is here for you.” Asher emerged, carrying a bowl of steaming broth. He gave me a cold, dismissive look. “I did not authorize your entry.” I gripped my fists tightly and pointed at the woman. “Who is she?” “It’s none of your concern.” “And Willow Avery?” Asher flinched. He clearly hadn’t anticipated me knowing her name, much less confronting him so directly. The older woman answered first. “You know my daughter?” She was suddenly seized by a violent, hacking cough. Asher rushed to her side, gently patting her back. He shot me a look of pure impatience. “Willow’s mother is sick. My place is close to the hospital, so they’re staying a few days.” I watched Asher fuss—adjusting the pillow, pouring warm water, covering her with a soft blanket, his voice low and solicitous, asking if she was comfortable. It ripped a memory out of me. The day my own mother arrived in the city for chemotherapy, having hidden her stomach cancer diagnosis from me and taken a seven-hour bus ride to save money. She was sitting, exhausted, with all her bags, on the stoop of the building. I was stuck in traffic and called Asher, begging him to let her rest in his apartment for a little while. His cold refusal was immediate. “Sienna, for God’s sake, maintain some boundaries. I am not running a hospice here. I’ll have a driver take your mother to a hotel.” I hadn’t understood his rigid prejudice then, or why he wouldn’t feel any compassion for my sick, road-weary mother. I could only compromise. Now, I finally understood. He didn’t love me. He didn’t care about my family. Perhaps sensing my thoughts, Asher cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Sienna, why don’t you go back to your place and relax? Once I get Mrs. Avery settled, I’ll take you to see The Quiet Hours tonight.” I had begged Asher multiple times to see that movie, and he’d always coldly refused. No matter how I pleaded, he wouldn’t even look up from his phone. “That kind of sentimental indie flick is beneath us, Sienna.” Now, he was offering a bone, a quick bribe to keep me from pressing the issue of Willow’s mother living here. Everything, it seemed, was negotiable when it came to Willow. I dug my nails into my palms, ready to refuse, when the door to the primary suite was pulled open. A woman stepped out. She was wearing a soft, oversized cotton shirt—definitely Asher’s, and definitely not meant to be seen. Her fair skin was dewy, and her long, dark hair was still wet, water spotting the polished hardwood as she walked. It felt like a punch to my chest.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388659”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The call from my mother came as I was being murdered by the serial killer she’d been hunting for ten years. Her voice was laced with venom from the moment she spoke. “Your cousin Lily is getting married next week. You will be there as her maid of honor.” “Her fiancé used to be your boyfriend,” she continued, her tone sharp as glass. “If you don’t show, think of how it will make her look.” I was already fading, the world turning grey at the edges from blood loss. I didn’t have the strength to speak. She didn’t notice. All I heard was her impatient snap. “What are you, dead? Can’t even say a word.” “I’m telling you, Chloe, even if you’re dying, you’ll crawl to that wedding and be her maid of honor first.” Two days later, she was leading the investigation into the gruesome discovery of a dismembered young woman. She identified the killer’s signature work in a single glance. The one thing she didn’t identify was the victim. Me. Her despised daughter. My remains were found by workers cleaning out a septic tank. It took three officers in heavy-duty respirators a full day and night of draining the filth to find all of me. My mother, Captain Eva Rostova, arrived at the precinct, her face a grim mask of professionalism. “Time of death? Have we identified the victim?” Dr. Peterson, the head medical examiner, pulled off his gloves with a weary sigh. “Preliminary estimate is two to three days ago. The body is too severely damaged to identify by face or fingerprints. I’ve sent samples for DNA. We’ll have results in three days, fastest.” At the case briefing, the mood was grim. After Dr. Peterson presented the autopsy findings, a wave of anger swept through the room of hardened detectives. “She was only in her twenties. A kid. Damn him.” “This was torture, not just murder. Sick son of a bitch.” A veteran detective who had served under my mother for years, Mark Reilly, suddenly stiffened. He looked at her, a question in his eyes. “Captain… the MO. You think it’s him?” My mother’s gaze, which had been locked on the autopsy report, shot up. Her eyes were like chips of ice. “It’s Walter Crane,” she said, her voice low and certain. “I’ve studied him for a decade. It’s him.” She continued, addressing the room. “He’s a fanatic. Believes a person’s retina holds the last image they saw before death. None of his victims have ever been found with their eyes intact.” A heavy silence fell over the room. The newer detectives hadn’t been on the force a decade ago, but everyone knew the name Walter Crane. The “Vanishing Girls” case had shaken the entire country and left deep scars on the original investigative team. He had disappeared for ten years. Why he had resurfaced now, no one knew. As the lead detective on the original case, my mother knew Crane better than anyone. She immediately formed a task force and began coordinating the investigation. Mark, an old friend from the police academy, was forced to stay behind at the office with a leg injury, relegated to sorting through cold case files. As the teams filed out, his eyes settled on my mother. “Looks like you didn’t even have time to change,” he observed, gesturing to her rumpled suit. “This case couldn’t have come at a worse time. Must be throwing a wrench in the wedding plans.” At the mention of the wedding, my mother’s professional focus dissolved into pure resentment. “Wedding plans? It’s Lily who’s getting married. That menace is just a bridesmaid.” Mark looked confused. “Wait, you’re saying Chloe’s ex is marrying Lily? How did that happen?” “How do you think it happened?” she scoffed. “Any sane man would choose Lily over that… that monster who killed her own father.” Mark sighed heavily. “Eva, it’s been three years. You have to let that go. I miss David too, but it wasn’t all Chloe’s fault. She’s been living with that guilt ever since. You kicked her out, but all she ever does is ask about you.” He leaned forward. “She told me once, no matter what you asked her to do, she’d do it. No questions asked.” My mother’s face contorted with rage. “You really believe that? She’s a master manipulator, always playing the victim for outsiders. She’d do anything I ask? Then why won’t she agree to be Lily’s maid of honor? It’s been two days, and she won’t even return my call.” “She’s a selfish, worthless parasite,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom. “Serves her right she couldn’t even hold on to her own boyfriend.” Mark shook his head, a sad, defeated look on his face. He wanted to say more, but it was family business. He let it drop. I stood right there in front of her, a ghost in the room, listening to every poisoned word. Tears I could no longer physically cry streamed down my face. Mom, I wasn’t being selfish. I was just… dead. I died the day you called me about Lily’s wedding. The dismembered body you saw today… that was me. 2 “Mark, stop worrying about trivial matters,” my mother ordered, her voice clipped and professional again. “Pull all missing persons reports for young women filed in the last ten days. We need to ID this victim, fast.” With that, she turned and strode to the morgue, coming to stand before my body once more. I remember her telling me once that the dead can’t speak, but they often tell us more than the living. Dr. Peterson was performing a second, more detailed autopsy. I lay on the steel table like a crudely stitched-together doll. My mother glanced at my remains, then squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back a wave of nausea. Her gaze fixed on the ME’s hands, her brow furrowed in thought. Then, her frown deepened. She reached out and took hold of my ankle. My ghostly breath hitched. Is she going to recognize me? There’s a scar on my ankle, a pale, jagged line from when I tumbled down the stairs as a child. But a moment later, she spoke, her voice puzzled. “Ligature marks on the ankle. That’s not his style. Crane never tied up his victims. It was like he knew they had no chance of escape.” A dull ache spread through my chest. Walter Crane didn’t tie people up. But that doesn’t mean others wouldn’t. She was so strong, Mom. It hurt so much. Don’t you know? I was so scared. Just then, my mother’s phone rang. She walked briskly out of the autopsy room, a rare smile gracing her lips as she answered. “Lily, darling. Sorry, I was busy, I didn’t hear your call.” “Don’t you worry,” she cooed. “I’ll make sure that menace shows up to be your maid of honor. If she dares refuse, I’ll disown her for good.” Lily’s sweet voice chirped from the other end. “Aunt Eva, it’s okay. Even if Chloe doesn’t want to, I won’t blame her. It was my fault for taking Julian from her in the first place.” My mother’s expression hardened instantly. “She wouldn’t dare! As soon as I’m done with this case, I’ll go find her myself. I’ll drag her to your wedding if I have to.” Her voice softened again. “Listen, things are a little crazy right now. You stay home for the next few days, lock your doors and windows, and don’t go anywhere. Understand?” The affection in her voice was a physical thing, a warmth that never touched me. For her beloved niece, there was endless love. For me, only contempt. The moment she hung up with Lily, another call came in. It was my aunt, one of the few relatives who still spoke to me. “Eva? Has Chloe been by to see you? She was supposed to come over and tutor the kids this weekend, but I haven’t been able to reach her for two days.” My mother’s brief moment of calm evaporated. “Why would she be here? I would never let her in my house.” “You know how she is,” my mother continued, her voice dripping with scorn. “She’s manipulative and a pathological liar. You actually believe a word that comes out of her mouth? That’s laughable.” My aunt sounded uncomfortable. “Eva, Chloe’s not like that. She’s always been so helpful to me, she’d do anything I ask.” “Oh, so she’ll do anything you ask, but she ignores me?” my mother seethed. “All I asked was for her to be a bridesmaid for her own cousin, and she decides to play this little disappearing game. Well, you can give her a message for me. She has two more days. If she doesn’t agree, we’re done. I’ll have no daughter.” She hung up, her face a mask of cold fury. Mark came to find her just in time to hear the end of the conversation. He raised an eyebrow and sighed dramatically to the empty air beside him. “You know, if someone doesn’t answer your call, you could always try calling them again. Why does everything with your own kid have to be a declaration of war?” My mother shot him a glare and was about to storm off when another officer stopped her. “Captain, we’ve got someone here reporting his daughter missing.” In the interview room, a middle-aged man with exhausted, red-rimmed eyes described his situation. “My daughter is twenty-three. Just graduated from college. She called me the day before yesterday, said she was coming home to visit. Now I can’t reach her. She’s never, ever gone more than two days without calling. Please, you have to help me find her.” My mother and Mark exchanged a look of shared sorrow. On the slab downstairs, my body belonged to a girl of about twenty-three. I floated in the air above them, a heavy stone sitting in my chest. Even a man who seemed gruff and unobservant on the surface could be brought to his knees by the fear of losing his daughter. Less than two days, and he was here, begging for help. But my own mother, after five days of silence from me, was still just angry. Still convinced I was playing games to get out of a wedding. The numbness in my heart was absolute. It’s true what they say. To someone who loves you, a cough is a sign of pneumonia. To someone who doesn’t, you could be hanging from a noose and they’d think you were just playing on a swing. 3 My mother was debating whether to tell the distraught father about the body they’d found—the timeline didn’t quite match—when the man’s phone rang. A number he didn’t recognize. My mother’s police instincts kicked in immediately. She gestured for him to put it on speaker. “Dad? I’m so sorry, my phone was stolen. I’m using a friend’s. I’m okay, I’ll be home in an hour.” The man sagged with relief, tears of joy streaming down his face. He staggered to his feet, leaning against the wall for support. As he left, he kept apologizing. “I’m so sorry to have bothered you, officers. Thank you.” My mother watched him go, her expression somber. “A child is a parent’s whole world,” she murmured. “Every time we get a missing persons case, the hardest part is watching the hope die in their parents’ eyes.” I floated beside her, studying her face. A child is a parent’s world, Mom? Then what am I to you? Just something you hate? You feel pity for him, but you can’t spare a single drop for me. The task force worked around the clock for a day and a night, but came up with nothing. They were all exhausted and frustrated. “How does a person just vanish without a single person noticing?” “No one’s even reported her missing.” “Maybe she was an orphan, or homeless.” Speculation flew around the conference room. Just then, the dispatch operator knocked and entered. “Captain Rostova, there’s a call for you. They’re specifically asking for you.” My mother took the phone, her brow furrowed. “Captain Rostova? This is the manager at Chloe’s internship. She hasn’t shown up for work in three days, and we can’t get in touch with her. I know you’re her mother, so I’m calling to inform you. Consider this my official report, okay? If anything happens to her, the company isn’t liable.” My mother’s temper, which had been simmering just below the surface, exploded. “What does that have to do with me? I’m warning you, if you ever tie up a public emergency line for her personal drama again, I’ll charge you with obstructing justice.” My manager was so stunned he could only stammer an apology before quickly hanging up. The conference room was silent. Everyone knew the Captain’s temper. It was Mark who finally broke the silence, using a file as an excuse to pull her into her office. “Eva, this isn’t right,” he said, his voice low. “Three days no-show at work, her aunt can’t reach her… What if something really has happened? I tried calling her just now while you were on the phone. Still no answer.” “I can take a couple of uniforms and go check on her,” he offered. My mother’s face was like stone. “There is a victim lying on a cold slab in the morgue, waiting for justice,” she said through gritted teeth. “There is a monster on the loose, and you want to waste manpower on her childish games?” “She’s just doing this to get out of the wedding. It’s a pathetic stunt. Trust me, she’ll come crawling back within three days.” She was right. In the past, no matter how much she hated me, how much she screamed at me, I always went to see her. Every few weeks, I’d stop by the precinct, even if the gifts I brought ended up in the trash. I always came back. But not this time, Mom. This time, I’m already here. I’ve been by your side all along. 4 To expedite the hunt for Walter Crane, my mother didn’t even go home. After calling Lily to remind her to lock her doors, she decided to sleep in her office. She worked until the early hours of the morning, finally lying down on the small cot. She had just drifted off when her phone shattered the silence. Six a.m. A call at this hour was never good news. She shot upright, grabbing the phone. “Rostova.” “Is this Chloe’s mother? Your daughter is over a week late on her rent. I can’t find her, and you’re the emergency contact. You need to come down and pay what she owes.” It was my landlady, a sweet but notoriously early riser. Despite her fury, my mother managed to restrain herself, knowing she was speaking to an elderly woman. She bit out a cold, “I’ll handle it,” and hung up. She sat on the edge of the cot, rubbing her temples. The victim’s identity remained a mystery, but my name, Chloe, seemed to be haunting her from every direction. Frustration boiling over, she pulled out her phone and found my contact information. After a long moment of hesitation, she typed a single, furious line. Get your ass to my office within the hour. The message sent instantly, but a red exclamation mark appeared beside it. Her eyes widened in disbelief. She slammed the phone down on the cot. “You’ve got some nerve, Chloe,” she seethed. “You actually blocked me.” She paced the small office like a caged animal, so lost in her rage that she didn’t hear her phone ringing again until the third or fourth time. She glanced at the screen. It was my name. The contact she had saved simply as “C.” “You’ve got some nerve, Chloe!” she barked into the phone. “Still playing these stupid games?” “I’m warning you, even if you were on your deathbed, you would still have to be that maid of honor!” “Don’t think this little stunt will make me forgive you. The only way I will ever forgive you is if you die!” There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a man’s hesitant voice. “Captain? It’s me. We’ve found the primary crime scene. And… we found this phone here.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388675”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chapter 1 After a sudden heart attack, I gained the ability to see a number floating above everyone’s head. After repeated verification, I discovered this number represented how many times they had been intimate that day. Today, the number above my newlywed wife’s head was 1. But when she returned from her company retreat, it had turned into 99?! My heart turned cold. She cheated on me 99 times in one day?! …… “Baby, just be with me. That short-lived ghost is dying anyway.” “That wouldn’t be appropriate.” Such a familiar voice… A dense pain radiated from my heart. I used all my strength to open my heavy eyelids. All I could see was blinding white. Memories flooded back, occupying my brain instantly. The client was dissatisfied with the proposal, rejecting it ninety-eight times. While cursing and revising the ninety-ninth version, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. Then my heart seized in pain, and I lost consciousness. My wife, Bella, and I had been together for ten years. To marry her, I had to come up with a $100,000 dowry. Plus the mortgage on the downtown apartment and the loan for the $80,000 car, I willingly became a corporate slave. To earn more money to pay off the loans, I worked day and night, which led to an acute myocardial infarction. I ended up in the ICU, barely clinging to life. Although the loans were suffocating, it was all worth it for Bella. Bella was incredibly beautiful, even more charming than movie stars. Curvy in all the right places, slim where it mattered. She looked like an angel descended from heaven, and her voice was lovely. I fell in love with her at first sight in high school. Through college and entering society, I took care of her meticulously. Although she attracted many bad suitors, I blocked them all, so it didn’t matter. Last month at our wedding, she wore a white gown, looking like a goddess. So let alone $200,000 in debt. Even $2 million, or $20 million, would be worth it! Who else gets to marry such a beautiful and gentle wife? Just seeing Bella filled me with motivation. And the house and car we bought with loans had appreciated ten times since the wedding. What’s working 23 hours a day? No big deal! Just as I wanted to get up and go back to work. The doctor making rounds changed my IV drip, and I accidentally glanced at a number floating above her head. 0? What was going on? At first, I thought I was dying and seeing things. But when I was wheeled out of the ICU and saw other patients, nurses, and doctors all with the same floating 0, I was confused. Was I really dying? In a daze, a particularly sweet voice came. “Hubby, even for our future, you have to protect your health.” “You can’t keep pushing yourself like this. Here’s some plain porridge I made for you.” It was my wife, Bella. I stared blankly at the “1” floating above her head, becoming more and more confused. Seeing me dazed, Bella thought I hadn’t recovered from the heart surgery, and her eyes immediately turned red. “Hubby, you’ve worked hard.” Feeling the softness on my hand, I snapped out of it. Seeing Bella cry was worse than killing me. “Baby, don’t cry. For you, I’m not tired at all.” Bella sniffled and started feeding me porridge. Afraid the temperature wasn’t right, she tested it herself. Seeing Bella care for me so much, I was truly moved. So, I finished the porridge quickly. The doctor recording my condition came over. Seeing I finished the whole bowl, he posted a note at the foot of the bed. “Your husband overworked himself. Long-term sleep deprivation led to acute myocardial infarction.” “In the future, prioritize nutrition and quit high-oil, high-salt foods.” “Plain porridge lacks nutrition. Don’t eat it after discharge.” Bella asked the doctor seriously what I should eat and took notes. Seeing her so serious, I smiled and patted her head. “Bella, I’m just a bit tired. I’ll be fine after some rest. Don’t worry.” Bella packed the lunch box, carefully put away her notes, and said she was going home to make me a nutritious meal. Bella always cared about me, so when she said she was leaving, I didn’t stop her. But looking at the “1” floating above her, I was still puzzled. After Bella left, the doctor brought my X-rays. Indeed, overwork caused the heart attack. Luckily, rescue was timely, and I was out of danger. But I had to stay for observation and avoid mental stress. I lay there staring at the ceiling from noon to afternoon. Unable to stay still, I quietly got up. Resting all afternoon made me feel less weak, so I supported myself against the wall and left the room. Outside, I saw many couples entering and exiting rooms. Mostly, the floating numbers above them were the same. The closer I got to the gynecology department, the more varied the numbers became. Near closing time, there were few patients. Bored, I found a chair and sat down, just as a string of numbers floated by. 2 I froze instantly, smelling a fishy odor while instinctively looking towards the owner of that string of numbers. The woman had just walked out of a gynecologist’s office, with the number “327” floating above her. She was dressed provocatively in a tube top and miniskirt. Before I could react, I smelled a pungent, cheap perfume. Watching the woman walk away, I pushed open the office door, curious to ask the head gynecologist inside. “Hello, may I ask what illness that woman came to see?” The stench in the office was even stronger, and I frowned instinctively. The head gynecologist, wearing a mask, was disinfecting the room with alcohol. Seeing my intrusion, she immediately cursed. “You young people, do you ignore your health for impulses?” “Don’t you know that lack of restraint and poor hygiene in bed lead to troublesome diseases, causing trouble for us doctors!” Looking at the furious doctor, I spoke apprehensively. “So… that woman just now, was too unrestrained, so…” The doctor finished disinfecting and impatiently pushed me towards the door. “Excessive indulgence. Her parts are rotten. Who knows how many hundreds of times she had sex.” “Go away, why is a man blocking my gynecology door? Just keep yourself clean.” Hundreds of times? Does the number above that woman represent that? Right, Bella and I had sex once on our wedding night. Later, to support the family, I worked day and night, barely having any memory of sharing a bed with Bella. Recalling the number floating above the gynecologist, I swallowed and pushed open the door again. Seeing the doctor about to explode, I quickly placed a thousand dollars on the desk. “Doctor, can I ask you something?” The doctor’s impending rage retracted instantly upon seeing the money. Nonchalantly pocketing the cash, she spoke. “Sure, but I’m a doctor, I can’t reveal patient privacy.” “Doctor, I won’t make it hard for you. I just want to ask about you.” “About me?” Seeing her suspicious look, I cleared my throat. “Doctor, how many times have you had sex in your life?” Seeing her face darken, about to call security, I quickly pulled out another thousand. “Please, Doctor, this is really important to me.” Blocked by two thousand dollars, she hesitated. After a minute of stalemate, she gritted her teeth: “Five times.” Looking at the “5” floating above her, I thought, as expected. Back in the ward, Bella said the company arranged a sudden business trip. She asked for a week’s leave for me to rest well in the hospital. Although I wanted to get up and make money immediately, health is wealth. So, I rested honestly in the hospital for a week, becoming more certain that the floating number represented the times a person had sex. When Bella returned from her trip, she immediately prepared a nutritious meal and came to see me. But the moment I saw her, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Seeing the glaring number “99” above her, I was stunned. “Hubby, did you rest well?” Bella opened the lunch box with concern, speaking gently. I looked up, trying to ignore the number, and saw her pale face. “Tired lately?” Bella stiffened slightly, then smiled: “Just busy with the trip. I’ll be fine after some rest.” “Come on, Hubby, I made this special meal for you. Try it.” Bella busied herself, but the “99” above her was eye-catching. Why? Why did this gentle, virtuous, lovely girl, who ran the love marathon with me and entered the wedding hall… Betray me ninety-nine times in one week on a single business trip? Wasn’t I good enough to her? I had so much to say, but it felt like a lump in my throat. The bits and pieces of the past ten years were vivid in my mind. I couldn’t believe my lover would do such absurd things. Seeing me dazed, Bella fed me while comforting me. “Alright, Hubby, don’t worry about me. Let’s work hard together to build our little home.” After finishing the meal, I was truly distracted, so I let Bella go home to rest. Staring at the ceiling, I was at a loss. 3 Why is it like this? That “99,” I confirmed it countless times. Why did she betray me? After staying up all night, my eyes were bloodshot, but I also saw through this relationship. Maybe I should find an excuse to believe Bella. Maybe those ninety-nine times were forced? As long as she still loves me, I think I will stand behind her. After adjusting my state a bit, I went home. After Bella went to cook, I looked at her phone, falling into endless entanglement. Coincidentally, a message arrived, lighting up her screen. “Little vixen, you scream so nicely. The bros had a great time.” “Played with the bros for a week straight, isn’t that enough for you, slut?” “So many people, aren’t you afraid your husband will find out?” “Afraid of what? That cuckold is dying soon anyway!” I saw a group chat, messages popping up one after another. Just looking at these filthy words made me feel like I was in an ice cave. So, this week, Bella lied about a business trip to party with these wild men every night? Even having sex non-stop for a week? My vision went black. I wanted to pick up the phone to look closer. But Bella suddenly walked out of the kitchen. “Hubby, pass me my phone!” I picked up the phone, taking several deep breaths to suppress the blood in my throat. “What, need the phone to cook? Afraid of burning the pot?” “Oh, you’re annoying. I need to check a new recipe.” After Bella took the phone, the sound of stir-frying came from the kitchen again. But my mind was in chaos. “Bella, I suddenly lost my appetite. I don’t want to eat. Going to sleep.” With that, I went straight to the bedroom. The first few sentences I saw could be understood as a cheating couple talking dirty for thrills. But what did the last sentence mean? What does “dying soon” mean? The room was dark. My thoughts wandered uncontrollably. Since getting married, Bella had been cooking for me diligently. Could it be she was eager to murder her husband? Suddenly, Bella opened the bedroom door and touched my head with concern. “What’s wrong, Hubby? Not feeling well?” “Yeah, no appetite. Pity I can’t eat.” Bella waved her hand and crawled into my arms. “It’s okay, Hubby. I know you’re tired. Let’s rest early.” She curled up in my arms, breathing soon becoming steady. Looking at her harmless appearance, my heart was mixed with flavors. After marriage, I only rested at home for an hour a day, spending the rest overtime. When busy, I wasn’t even home. What was Bella doing when I wasn’t home? I closed my eyes painfully, not knowing how to face Bella. Not long after, Bella moved. She carefully slipped out of my embrace, seemingly leaning close to me. “Hubby, are you asleep?” I maintained steady breathing, giving no response. Five minutes later, Bella moved again. The bedroom light was dim. I felt her lift the quilt and take off her pajamas. Then she opened a group chat on her phone, started a group video, and moaned coquettishly. “Daddies, miss me?” After typing, Bella squeezed her chest, stuck out her tongue for a selfie, and posted a Moment. “Lonely night, begging brothers to love me.” 4 Soon, Bella’s post had countless red dots. Unread messages came one after another. And every message was explicit and ambiguous to the extreme. I maintained my posture, letting Bella lie in my arms flirting with other men. Because I forced my breathing to stay steady, Bella didn’t notice I was awake. Watching her reply to messages one by one, my heart sank deeper. Until the last message she replied to caught my attention. “Honey, did he eat the nutritious meal today?” “Sigh, he said no appetite, didn’t eat. Did he discover something?” “Brother Wang, was the medicine too strong?” “Not really. Small doses frequently. At most, it overloads his heart, increasing the chance of sudden death when staying up late working.” “Don’t worry, that drug is unheard of. Dissolves in water without a trace. Impossible to detect.” …… Looking at this disgusting chat history, I only felt cold in my limbs. Bella, who ran the love marathon with me for ten years, wanted to poison me? I thought I really worked too hard, stayed up too late, leading to acute myocardial infarction. Never thought Bella had a hand in this! I’ve read many mystery novels with poisoning plots. Not only is the dosage meticulous, but the degree of onset is also calculated. Just enough to make the poison most effective on calculated days. Acute myocardial infarction is just a basic complication. Perhaps my fear disrupted my breathing, Bella, who was typing happily, suddenly froze. After a long silence, Bella spoke again. “Hubby, are you awake?” I feigned steady breathing, not answering. “Strange, nightmare?” Bella muttered to herself, posed a bit more on the bed, then fell into a deep sleep. Although my eyes were closed, my thoughts were chaotic, with no intention of sleeping. The next day, I got up early, preparing to work and support the family. Bella, as usual, used all her skills to make a beautiful, delicious breakfast. Looking at the exquisite sandwich garnished with cherry tomatoes, I recalled past joy and current chills. Hard to imagine such carefully prepared food contained deadly poison for a lover. Even delicacies tasted like wax to me now. Despite mental struggles, I couldn’t swallow. I could only sigh, comforting Bella: “Sorry, Bella, still no appetite.” “Maybe hospitalized too long, really can’t eat.” Hearing this, Bella also sighed. Seeming very disappointed, she forced a smile: “Hubby, you worked hard.” “Don’t push yourself in the future. Let’s work together, it will definitely get better.” I nodded and walked towards the entrance. Bella, as in the past, considerately fixed my hair and tie. “Hubby, I’ll wait for you to come home.” I stared blankly at the affectionate girl in front of me, momentarily unable to distinguish reality. I wasn’t sure how I left the house. When I reacted, I was already at a legal consultation office. Bella’s affection was just a disguise she thought was clever. Confused by her feelings, I once couldn’t let go. Now that I figured it out, it wasn’t so hard. Since Bella is unkind, I can only be unjust. I stepped into this legal office and booked a top lawyer directly. I told my lawyer everything that happened recently and every bit of my time with Bella. The lawyer recorded everything about Bella’s infidelity, group lewdness, and suspected poisoning. He said as a professional lawyer, he would protect the client’s rights. Confidentiality is his job. He also asked what legal help I needed. “Mr. Zhou, I have a rough understanding of the conflict between you and your wife.” “Evidence of infidelity is easy to find, but poisoning requires more conclusive proof.” “Video evidence is best, so you don’t have to worry about the other party biting back.” I pondered, lamenting that professional matters should be left to professionals. “How should I prepare video evidence to be legal and effective?” I knew recording was viable. But I didn’t know what time frame or what kind of video evidence would nail Bella to the pillar of shame without any chance of turning the tables. The lawyer tapped the table with his index finger, thinking. After a brief silence, he spoke. “Please try to collect video evidence while ensuring legality, Mr. Zhou.” “For example, install cameras in the bedroom for work or health reasons, and accidentally record her poisoning you.” “Naturally, the immediate priority is to do a full physical examination to confirm what drug your wife used on you.” “As long as the evidence loop is complete and logical, she won’t escape even with wings.” After speaking, the lawyer looked at me with a trace of pity in his eyes. “As for assets under your name, Mr. Zhou, you need to consolidate them. We will calculate the maximum vested interest in property division for you.” “Okay, I understand.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388692”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chapter 1 After winning the bidding war for Liam Sterling at the exclusive charity auction, he set three rules for me. Give him a black card with no limit. Clean up all his messes, no questions asked. And never pry into his private life. Only by agreeing to these three points would he leave with me. Everyone thought he was delusional. No one would agree to such terms for a bankrupt playboy. But I just nodded. “Take good care of your face.” Over the next three years, I spent over a hundred million dollars on him. Everyone laughed at me for losing my mind over love. But I continued to do as I pleased. The day my father died, Liam crashed his racing car. Suppressing my grief, I rushed to handle the aftermath. But at the door of the VIP lounge, I overheard Liam talking with his friends. “Liam, you’ve got Elena trained like a dog. Marriage is going to be bliss, huh?” “Yeah, once her old man kicks the bucket, all that family money will be yours after the wedding.” Laughter erupted. Liam’s cold voice cut through the noise. “Her? She’s not worthy of marrying me.” I pushed the door open. Under the shocked gazes of everyone, I walked calmly up to Liam. Ignoring his slightly unnatural expression, I carefully wiped the dust from his forehead and sighed in relief. “Good, the face is fine.” … Liam turned his face away impatiently. “It wasn’t a big deal. Elena, you’re annoying.” Seeing the awkward atmosphere, his friends tried to smooth things over, hinting to see if I had heard their conversation. Liam looked at me with a hint of nervousness. Facing that face that looked a bit apprehensive, I couldn’t bring myself to be cruel. I shook my head. Just as I relaxed, a commotion came from the entrance. It was Liam’s childhood sweetheart. He stood up anxiously, his tone gentle in a way he never used with me. “Why are you here? I said it was nothing, you didn’t need to come out in this rain.” Bella clutched an umbrella, tears welling up as soon as she saw Liam’s injuries. “I was worried about you, and the thunder is so loud, I was scared…” Liam wiped her tears tenderly. “It’s late. I’ll take you home and tuck you in.” With that, they gathered their things and left. Facing the awkward expressions of the others, I watched silently the entire time. Just as he demanded when I “bought” him. Never pry into his private life. Before leaving, Liam spoke to me matter-of-factly: “My car is wrecked. I’ll take yours. Find your own way home.” He put his jacket over Bella and led her away, not caring at all how I would manage in the pouring rain alone. “Elena, Liam he…” one friend stammered. “No need to explain,” I interrupted. In Liam’s heart, I would never compare to Bella. His rare patience and gentleness were all poured out on her. I had long realized that no matter how much this face looked like him, it wasn’t him. But to see this face I missed day and night, I endured it all willingly. I called my driver to pick me up and went to handle my father’s funeral arrangements. It was past midnight when I got home. The lights in the living room were on, which surprised me. Usually, he would be asleep by now. Seeing my exhaustion, Liam frowned. “Why are you back so late?” I said faintly, “Something came up.” He scoffed, disbelieving. “Is this necessary? I just walked Bella home. She’s a little girl, worried about me in the storm, scared of thunder. What’s wrong with me taking her home?” He didn’t think for a second that I had also dropped everything to rush to him in the middle of the night. I rubbed my temples, not wanting to argue. Seeing this, Liam stepped forward and pinched my chin. He kissed me, as if bestowing a gift. I turned my head to dodge. His face darkened. “That’s enough. What’s the attitude for?” “My dad died. I’m not in the mood.” Liam froze. Ignoring him, I turned and went into the bedroom. Sometime later, Liam lay beside me, smelling of shower gel. He gently took my hand. “I didn’t know.” I didn’t respond. Liam continued on his own. “By the way, Bella’s birthday is coming up. She saw an emerald diamond necklace in a magazine a few days ago and loved it.” “I asked around, it’s an antique, not for sale anymore.” “I remember you have one in your jewelry box. You don’t wear it anyway. Why not give it to Bella to make her happy?” My headache worsened. My voice was cold. “That was my mother’s dowry. I won’t give it.” His hand holding mine stiffened. This was the first time I refused him. He gritted his teeth, let go of me, got dressed, and slammed the door as he left. I ignored it, rolled over, and fell into a deep sleep. 2 I drove to my father’s funeral. As soon as I got in the car, I saw a pair of lace panties stained with white fluid on the passenger seat. This was the car Liam drove Bella home in. Pressed for time, I switched cars and went to the funeral home. Guests arrived one by one. Liam finally showed up late with Bella. “Bella wasn’t feeling well this morning, so we’re late.” I lowered my eyes. “Take a seat.” It seemed a bit warm inside, so Bella took off her trench coat. Instantly, she became the center of attention. She was wearing a bright red dress. Noticing the stares, Bella shrank behind Liam. She trembled, “What’s wrong? Why is everyone looking at me?” She gripped Liam’s sleeve, causing him to protectively pull her into his arms and whisper comforts. My temper finally snapped. “Either take that off or get out.” My eyes were frosty. “Wearing red to my father’s funeral. Ms. Bella has quite the upbringing.” Everyone watched in silence. Bella looked as if she had suffered a grave injustice, biting her lip with red eyes. “I’ll leave then!” She turned and ran. Liam glared at me darkly, grabbed Bella’s coat, and chased after her. I closed my eyes tightly and took a few deep breaths. “I apologize. Let’s continue.” Everyone snapped out of it and pretended nothing happened. I sat down, dejected. I could imagine the gossip. My nose stung. If only he were here. After the funeral, Liam returned. His clothes were messier than when he left. He frowned, tone angry. “Just for something so small, did you have to embarrass Bella in front of everyone?” “She’s just a girl, she doesn’t know these customs. Why make it hard for her?” “Is this because I tucked her in that night? It’s been so long, are you serious?” Liam’s questioning made me laugh in anger. Usually, I would pretend not to notice, but today I wasn’t going to indulge him. “It’s my father’s funeral. Who is causing trouble?” I asked sarcastically. He paused, avoiding my gaze. A moment later, he offered a compromise. “Fine, I’ll talk to her later. It’s not your place to lecture her.” “Bella fell when she ran out. You own a hospital, have them prepare the best VIP suite.” “Arrange a full checkup for her, and we’ll consider this matter closed.” I refused without thinking. “Impossible.” I would clean up his messes, but I wouldn’t agree to this. “You are becoming more and more unreasonable.” Liam ripped off his tie, threw it on the floor, and stormed off. When I got home that night, I saw Bella sitting in my seat at the dining table. In front of her was the tonic soup my housekeeper prepared for me. Seeing me, Bella’s voice was sweet. “Sister Elena, you’re back? Liam said Mrs. Wang’s soup is the most nourishing, perfect for my health.” “Come have a bowl.” I glanced at her and walked past without a word. Liam strode over and put his arm around my shoulder. His tone was unusually gentle. “I thought about it. If you don’t want her in the hospital, fine. We have a family doctor, Bella can stay here.” “She likes your sunny master bedroom. You move out for her. It’ll be good for her recovery.” Liam was sure I wouldn’t refuse him again. After all, for years, whatever he wanted, he got. Even limited edition supercars worth millions, I would fill the garage with them without blinking. 3 Before I could answer, Liam pulled me to the table. He pushed a plate of bamboo shoot salad toward me. “Your favorite from that place in North City. I bought it for you. Eat up.” I stared at the dish. Actually, I didn’t like it. He liked it. After his accident, this dish became my “favorite.” I picked up my chopsticks and ate a bite. It tasted like the past. Seeing me eat, Liam’s expression relaxed. A flash of jealousy crossed Bella’s eyes. She put a piece of pig heart in my bowl. Then she panicked, “Sorry Sister Elena, I forgot your father died of a heart attack…” “I’m always so clumsy. Don’t be mad.” She looked at Liam for help. Liam rubbed Bella’s head, comforting her dotingly. “It’s okay, I’m here.” He looked at me, tone cool. “Bella is young, don’t hold it against her.” With that, he rolled up his sleeves and expertly peeled shrimp for her. Revealing a hair tie on his wrist that belonged to Bella. Seeing their intimacy, I lost my appetite. I put down my chopsticks. Seeing I was done, Liam spoke again. “Bella’s lease is up. Give her an apartment to tide her over.” “Your penthouse in the city center is nice, well-decorated. It’ll be easier for her to find a job.” The apartment Liam mentioned was the marital home I had prepared before. The decor was designed by him personally, according to my taste. I found it laughable. My lack of boundaries had spoiled him. He thought I would yield again and again. But when it involved him, I couldn’t let it go. “Liam, you want me to support your mistress too?” I asked calmly. Bella stood up, looking humiliated. “Sister Elena, I know you mind my relationship with Liam, but we are innocent.” She looked at Liam, teary-eyed. “I’m disturbing you guys. Sorry Liam, I’ll go.” Liam grabbed her anxiously, his voice cold toward me. “Apologize to Bella.” I sneered. “Did I say something wrong?” “Or was that pair of panties in my car not hers?” Bella breathed heavily, face flushed. She shook her head. “You really misunderstood. I had cramps that day, Liam just helped me with his hands.” “We grew up together, it’s nothing.” Liam pulled her into his embrace, patting her back. “Don’t explain. She’s just paranoid all day.” He looked at me coldly. “Do you think this will make me look at you more?” “There’s a limit to being unreasonable. I’ll spend more time with you later, okay?” “Bella can’t handle grievances.” “If you keep this up, I’m moving out with Bella.” I heard his threat. Usually, if Liam said this, I would submit immediately. Then fulfill his demands to satisfy him. Only then would he magnanimously forgive me. But my attention was entirely on my phone, which just buzzed. A text message. From a number I knew by heart but thought would never contact me again. 【Elena, wait for me.】 Four simple words left me frozen, clutching my phone. 4 Was it a prank, or did he really come back? The thought made my eyes wet. The phone was snatched away. It was Liam. “Why are you crying?” He frowned, looking suspiciously at the screen. But it was already locked. He tried the password a few times, all wrong. Liam threw the phone on the table in frustration and asked, “Did you hear what I said?” My mind was chaos. I didn’t want to talk. I grabbed my phone and stood up. “I think we both need to calm down.” Seeing me leave, Liam was at a loss. This was the first time I walked away first. Usually, no matter how toxic he was, I was the one apologizing. Maybe I was just really angry this time. I’d be fine in a few days. Liam thought. Since that night, I hadn’t been home or messaged Liam for days. He started getting restless. His friends noticed his anxiety and advised him. “Oh, Liam, what are you afraid of? We all see how much Elena loves you.” “Women, just let her cool off. She’ll come crawling back to lick your boots.” Laughter followed. Bella nodded, pouring wine for Liam. “Yeah Liam, it’s probably nothing big. Sister Elena is just throwing a tantrum waiting for you to coax her.” “Besides, her dad died, you’re the closest person to her. How could she really break up with you?” Liam recalled the wallpaper he saw on my phone that day. Although blurry, he could tell it was him. Probably a candid shot I took. After all, I loved him to the bone. How could I give up so easily? Liam nodded, anxiety fading. “True. Elena is taking over as CEO in a few days. I’ll go to her banquet, and she’ll be fine.” At the banquet, I was socializing with partners. Since that day, no matter how many messages I sent to that number, there was no reply. I could only wait patiently. If it was really him, he would come to me. I just had to wait. Sipping champagne, I saw Liam enter with Bella. My face changed. The dress Bella wore was the one I wore for my debutante ball. It was custom-made by a top designer abroad, commissioned by him. It took six months to make. I walked over quickly, eyes angry. “Who let you wear that?! Take it off!” Bella was startled by my gaze. Thinking Liam was beside her, she found courage. “What are you doing?” I didn’t care, pulling at the dress. Liam, seeing me frantic, got angry and pulled me away forcefully. Thrown off balance, my lower back hit the edge of a long table. The champagne tower on it crashed to the floor. The noise attracted everyone’s attention. My CEO succession banquet turned into a farce. Liam shielded Bella, his tone impatient. “Elena, when will you stop? I’m here, aren’t I?” “This dress color doesn’t suit you anymore. It’s perfect for a young girl like Bella.” “You have so many clothes, is it worth embarrassing her in public over this?” Seeing me covered in wine, my calf cut by glass. A hint of pity appeared in Liam’s eyes. He moved to help me up. “Stop throwing tantrums. I’ll buy you a new one later, okay?” But I had no reaction to the pain or his words. I just stared blankly at the familiar figure behind him. All the blood in my body seemed to freeze in an instant. Liam followed my gaze. Seeing the man’s face, his pupils dilated. It was a tall, handsome man. Every gesture exuded an ethereal elegance. “What are you doing to my fiancée?” The man asked coldly. Liam instinctively moved to block my view. He questioned me angrily. “What fiancée?! Elena, who is he!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388708”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The lights were blinding. On stage, my six-year-old son, Asher, clutched his Best Child Actor statuette, thanking everyone. “First, I have to thank my dad. Without all his hard work and the great life he gives me, I definitely wouldn’t be here today.” “And next, I have to thank my dearest, dearest Sera-Mom. She doesn’t just teach me how to act, she takes care of me like a real mother.” “When I get sick, she goes with me to get shots, she gives me my medicine. On-screen and off, she’s the best mom I could ever have!” A reporter’s voice cut through the applause, sharp and playfully mocking. “So, you don’t have any thanks for your biological mom, then?” Asher Easton, the child I carried for ten agonizing months and nearly died giving birth to, just scoffed. He stared into the camera with utter disdain. “She’s just a housewife. What does she do besides waste Dad’s money?” “What right does she have to be compared to Sera-Mom, who is already an Oscar-winning actress?” “Plus, she always smells like gross cooking grease. Not like Sera-Mom, who smells fresh and expensive. Really, really good.” I was scrolling through the social media clip when I immediately called Rhys Easton. He was at a post-ceremony gala with Asher and Seraphina Lowe. He didn’t try to soften the blow—he just laughed, cold and dismissive, when he heard my complaint. “Did Asher say anything that wasn’t true, Eliza?” “An aimless housewife, perpetually smelling of the kitchen.” “Do you think Asher is the only one who doesn’t want to come home anymore?” I hung up, stunned, and stared at the impeccably clean house, the prepared dinner cooling on the counter. I realized, in that stark, quiet moment, that for years I had only existed as Mrs. Easton or Asher’s Mother. I had completely forgotten that I was, simply, Eliza Stone. My own person. 1 The front door rattled just after midnight. It was the familiar, heavy pounding I was used to, but this time, I didn’t rush to open it. I sat quietly on the sofa, slowly closing the photo album I’d just unearthed. Thirty seconds later, a key scraped in the lock, and a cloud of heavy liquor rushed into the room. I started to rise, intending to help Rhys, but stopped short. Standing in the doorway, supporting him, was Seraphina Lowe, still in her backless, strapless designer gown. Guarding her side like a tiny sentinel was Asher. Seraphina gently eased Rhys onto the sofa, pulling a lace handkerchief from her clutch to dab the sweat from his brow. She didn’t spare me a glance, issuing a casual order into the room. “Eliza, can you get Rhys some warm water? Add just a little honey. Don’t use too much—he doesn’t like it overly sweet these days.” I stayed rooted to the spot, my gaze locked on her hand, which Rhys was holding—so tightly, yet so tenderly. He held her as if he wanted to dissolve her into his very bone marrow, yet was terrified of causing her any discomfort. The next second, Asher’s small body slammed into mine, shoving me aside. His voice, still bearing the high pitch of a child, was laced with entitlement and open fury. “Are you deaf? Go get Dad his honey water, now!” “Sera-Mom works so hard taking care of Dad outside the house, and all you do is hide in here being lazy! You didn’t even open the door, and now you won’t get the water. What good are you, honestly?” His strength was negligible, but the surprise of the push threw me off balance. My abdomen slammed into the sharp corner of the coffee table. The pain took my breath away. It was a cruel twist of fate that the spot where I hit was the angry, jagged scar left by the emergency C-section, the result of a near-fatal hemorrhage when I gave birth to him. Biting back a gasp, I straightened up. Seraphina, already impatient with my delay, had poured the honey water herself and was delicately feeding it to Rhys, who sipped obediently. Asher stood guard beside them. My eyes finally landed on the television screen, still on from the day’s coverage. It was looping a scene from their award-winning film. In the clip, they were staged just like this: the devoted, gentle wife and the understanding child caring for the exhausted father, a perfect, heartwarming family of three. I glanced down at the old family portrait peeking from the photo album—a stiff, formal picture taken when Asher was six months old. A single, desolate tear traced a path down my cheek. The coffee table was more than a piece of furniture; it was a chasm. On the other side, a picture of domestic bliss. On my side, only a solitary, isolated woman. My phone buzzed with texts from my friend, Jenna. “Liz, this French director has been following your early work for years. She’s seriously interested.” “This screen test is a huge opportunity, and she specifically asked me to reach out. You can’t miss it.” “I know you worry about the family, but Asher is old enough, and Rhys is right here. Seriously, are you even considering it?” I scrolled back through years of texts, realizing how many similar opportunities I had rejected—all for Rhys, and for this house. But this time, I couldn’t find a single reason left to say no. 2 I quietly retrieved the album and returned to my room, choosing not to “interrupt” them further. Passing the walk-in closet, I stopped. My reflection was a study in neglect: tired eyes, hair that needed attention, the dull uniform of a woman who had given up on herself. Then I glanced at the wall, where a stunning woman in a custom silk bridal gown smiled radiantly in a photograph. I hadn’t realized how much I had changed. The date stamped on the wedding photo read: June 2015. In the image, Rhys wasn’t looking at the camera; he was gazing at me—at the goofy face I was deliberately making—his mouth curved in a smile of pure, undisguised adoration. Ten years ago, I was at the peak of my career, the undisputed queen of the new generation of Hollywood darlings. And he was utterly infatuated with me. For me, he’d fought his family, his friends, even risked being cut off from the Easton fortune. But whenever we were together, he’d smile like that—tender, wild, and utterly consumed. My career was on fire, but growing up, I’d been an orphan, and my early life in the industry was mostly exploitation. I had never experienced such a deep, visceral love. Falling for him was inevitable. The story was textbook: the starlet and the wealthy heir overcame all obstacles. Things only seemed to improve after Asher was born; even Rhys’s cold, judgmental parents softened toward me. Everything was moving toward a perfect future. Except for my marriage to Rhys. 3 I sat up until the early hours. Rhys never came into our room. When I finally crept out, the living room was empty. But the light was still on in the guest suite. And Seraphina’s small, jeweled heels were neatly placed outside the door. I drew a long, shaky breath, a familiar, pinprick pain spreading across my chest. The bottle of anti-ulcer medication, which Rhys needed nightly for his stress-related stomach issues, crinkled in my hand. I was about to turn back, pretend nothing happened, and seek the refuge of the master bedroom, when the guest suite door suddenly opened. Seraphina, wearing my silk slip nightgown and with her hair still damp, walked out to get a glass of water. Seeing me standing awkwardly in the living room, a thin, knowing smile touched her lips. “Oh, still awake, Liz? You know, women who don’t get enough sleep age faster. Kind of… like you look now.” “You don’t have to worry. I’ve settled Rhys down. I mean, I was the one who traveled with him and took care of him on location for years, right? I’m much more experienced at handling him than you are.” “But then again, I’m not like you. I didn’t give up my career to marry into money. And now… well, now you’re paying the price.” She dismissed me with a cool sweep of her eyes, her gaze filled with undisguised contempt. I simply watched her. My voice was steady and flat. “Even so, I at least have the title.” “What do you have, Sera?” Seraphina’s smile instantly froze. I didn’t want the useless sparring. I just wanted to go to bed. But as I turned, I saw them: Rhys and Asher, one large, one small, wearing the matching designer loungewear I had bought them, standing stone-faced in the guest suite doorway. Asher immediately ran to Seraphina’s side, wrapping his small arms around her protectively. He glared at me, his voice a low, furious snarl. “Stop bullying Sera-Mom, you mean woman!” My heart, already numb from pain, fractured completely under the weight of Rhys’s look of raw distaste. “Eliza Stone, don’t think for a second that being Mrs. Easton gives you any leverage.” “Seraphina is ten years younger than you, and she’s already an international award winner. You? What have you done in the ten years since you married into this family? Besides becoming a slovenly, unkempt woman who smells like the kitchen, what have you accomplished?” “Besides flaunting your title, what can you actually boast about?” He seemed to be barely controlling his rage, pulling a visibly tearful Seraphina into his arms and shielding her. But when he looked at me, his gaze was pure, naked disgust. “I’m letting this go only because you are Asher’s biological mother.” “But if you ever bully Sera again, I swear, you’ll regret it.” His words pierced my eardrums. Asher, meanwhile, was clutching Seraphina’s hand, staring at me with repulsion. “If I could choose, I’d pick Sera-Mom to be my mother!” “Who would want you, you bad woman? You’re an embarrassment! You never should have walked through the front door of this house!” The pain of a thousand cuts left me dizzy. I looked at the father and son I had devoted a decade to, who now despised me. And I laughed. My palm opened. Rhys’s stomach medication and Asher’s emergency asthma inhaler both clattered onto the polished marble floor, the sound echoing harshly through the hall. I looked at the two of them. Just as they turned, preparing to escort Seraphina back into the guest suite, I spoke, my voice deceptively calm. “Rhys. Let’s get a divorce.” 4 The guest suite door closed. Rhys and Asher had completely ignored me, treating my calm, agonizing declaration as nothing more than air. I didn’t care. I went back to my room, pulled out my laptop, and emailed my lawyer about the divorce proceedings. The lawyer was apologetic and straightforward: even if I divorced, my share of the assets would be limited. Fighting for primary custody of Asher was a fantasy. I paused, my finger slipping as I scrolled down to Seraphina’s newly updated social media post. The photo showed her and Rhys tucked into a bed, gently watching a sleeping Asher. The caption read: “A warm family… is there anything better? When will I get a family of my own?” The comments section was flooded with fans. “Rhys and Sera together again! Are they co-starring, or are we seeing a real family? I’m obsessed!” “Sera is so gentle and sweet. I want a soft, wonderful mom like her.” “Little Asher is definitely having fun. Can I be Sera-Mom’s kid for a day?” “Obsessed with this scandalous-but-real-life pairing. Sera and Rhys are so much better together than Eliza Stone.” “The ultimate power couple!” I scrolled down. When the page refreshed, Rhys’s comment was pinned at the top. He wrote: “Am I chopped liver?” He even added a playful, dog-face emoji. Ten years of marriage, and this was the first time I had ever seen him use a cute emoji in a casual conversation. This was the man who once hated playfulness, who would coldly tell me to stop being “so childish” if I used an ellipsis or an exclamation mark in a text. Now, for another woman, he was breaking his own self-imposed rules again and again. I smiled faintly, wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, and typed a single thought into my laptop: “I don’t want it anymore.” Him. The child. The money. I only wanted freedom. 5 The next morning, I woke up to an empty house. Only the messy, abandoned breakfast setting on the dining table proved that anyone had been home at all. I clenched my fists, noticing my silk nightgown—the one Seraphina had worn—tossed casually into the trash can. The pain was sharp, but I swallowed it down. With the draft of the divorce papers from the lawyer in my bag, I hailed a cab to the Easton family estate. Since marrying Rhys, I rarely visited the mansion. I knew his parents didn’t like me; they tolerated me only because of him. I arrived at a terrible time. Pushing open the heavy mahogany doors, I saw the main hall filled with high-profile guests, clinking glasses and mingling. Rhys, dressed in an immaculate suit, had his arm securely around a radiant Seraphina in a sweeping red gown. He was laughing, socializing with a director, and constantly shooting tender glances her way. My arrival brought the buzzing hall to a dead, sudden silence. Rhys’s face instantly darkened. Seraphina glanced disdainfully at my plain, orange cotton t-shirt and smiled a mocking, knowing smile. Asher started to open his mouth to demand I be removed, but Rhys’s gesture to the head butler was faster. The butler approached me with a patronizing tone. “Delivery person, right? You have the wrong address.” “We’re hosting a very important event. You need to leave, now, and not disturb our guests.” When I stood my ground, he lowered his voice and frowned in sharp reprimand. “Ma’am, please. Can’t you see the Master is busy? There’s a limit to how much you can disrupt things. Do you really think this is the place for someone like you?” A bitter, self-deprecating smile touched my lips. I kept my eyes fixed on Rhys, whose expression was pure thunder. After a long moment, I spoke softly. “I have a company document here. Mr. Easton needs to sign it.” The guests collectively breathed a sigh of relief and resumed their careless mingling. Rhys patted Seraphina’s shoulder, offering her an assuring smile. He then stalked over to me, ignoring the document I held, pulling out his own pen, and scribbling his signature with practiced ease. He glared at me, issuing a low-voiced threat. “Eliza Stone, take your drama home. This is not the place for your hysterics.” “There are major investors here interested in Sera. If you screw this up, I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your life.” Asher sidled up, his eyes wide and spiteful. “Go home, you filthy woman! You smell like cooking oil! This isn’t a place for a gross housekeeper who just cooks all day! Everyone else is beautiful and classy, and you’re old and ugly. Are you trying to embarrass Dad and me?” A single tear slipped from my eye. I looked at the son I had endured a twenty-four-hour labor to bring into the world. “But Asher,” I whispered, “I used to be like them.” “Before I married your father, I was a top actress. I wore dresses even more beautiful than hers.” “What exactly made me the ‘slob’ and the ‘housekeeper’ you despise? Do you two truly not know?” Rhys and Asher exchanged a quick look, a flicker of guilt passing between them. But Rhys was too seasoned for shame. He sneered, his sharp gaze falling on my wrinkled shirt like a scalpel. The disgust was palpable. “You made your choice, Eliza. You wanted the easy life, the money, the title. You can’t regret it now.” “Besides, did I ever deny you anything? You didn’t want to work—that’s on you. Now get out!” He took Asher’s hand and turned away. The grand hall doors slowly closed, a heavy finality, separating his world from mine. In my last glance, I saw him hold Seraphina’s hand like a prince. Through the small gap before the doors fully shut, I saw Seraphina give me a victorious, chilling smile. It didn’t matter anymore. I stared at the paper in my hand—the divorce agreement, signed in his own, careless handwriting. I thought: It’s time to go. 6 Back at the house, I found servants moving furniture and belongings. Seeing me, they looked away guiltily. Only the old butler, who had always treated me with a measure of respect, sighed apologetically. “Ma’am, the Master said he needs to prepare for his new role. He’s having Miss Lowe stay here for a while.” “He said… to make the feeling more authentic, they’ll be pretending to be a married couple. So he needs Miss Lowe in the master suite, and you’ll be in the guest room for a few days.” I nodded calmly and walked to the master bedroom to pack my things. When I was finished, I realized that all my possessions didn’t even fill a single suitcase. The wall where my wedding photo had been proudly displayed now held a massive, framed photo of Rhys and Seraphina from a movie—a staged wedding scene. His smile was still bright and joyous, but it was no longer for me. I laughed, a dry, bitter sound. I dragged the suitcase out of the cage that had held me for ten years. Before I left, I placed a second copy of the signed divorce agreement on the master bed pillow. On the way to the airport, my phone rang. Rhys. His tone was just as cold as ever. “Have the butler take you shopping later. You need an outfit for an important gala tomorrow.” “Because of your stunt today, there are already rumors flying about Sera. You need to publicly clarify that you two have a great relationship and that our living situation is just for the film.” “Sera’s career is at a critical juncture. She can’t have any scandal. Of course, I’ll transfer money to you as compensation after you’ve done your job.” I started to laugh, a loud, tearing sound that made the cab driver jump. “Rhys, have you forgotten why my career stopped in the first place?” “Why I was so quick to retire?” Rhys fell silent, and I answered for him. “Because right after we got married, you were in a terrible car accident, and your leg was shattered.” “I retired to take care of you.” “Five years of my life went into your recovery. In return, I was completely cut off from the world.” “You and Asher look down on me as a ‘slob’ and a ‘housewife,’ but who created this situation? Don’t you know?” “Eliza Stone!” Rhys spat my name. “What exactly do you want?” I didn’t speak. At that moment, the airport announcement echoed through the cab’s speakers. “Passengers for flight CA989 to Paris, your flight is now boarding…” Suddenly, the coldness in Rhys’s voice was replaced by a flicker of panic. “Eliza Stone, where are you going?” “Even if you don’t want me, are you abandoning your son too?” A gasp of raw, desolate laughter escaped me. “Haven’t you realized yet, Rhys, what it was you just signed?” “What are you talking about?!” he roared. I ended the call.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388724”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Since we were kids, I knew my sister was destined to be the tragic heroine of a melodrama. To protect her, I switched our fates. She went to the top public magnet school, while I entered the prestigious private academy as a scholarship student. She grew up to be a brilliant biopharmaceutical scientist. I, on the other hand, endured years of humiliation, suffered through seven abortions, and held the empty title of a billionaire heir’s wife. When my sister found out, instead of being grateful, she returned to the male lead’s side as his “white moonlight”—his first love. She manipulated him into drowning me in the lake. Reborn into a new life, I somehow became the male lead’s “white moonlight” this time around. Just as I thought I had mistakenly picked up the heroine’s script, I realized something terrifying. My sister was reborn too. So, how did she, the original “white moonlight” heroine of the last life, actually die? Chapter 1 Reborn back to when we were twelve, Mom and Dad looked at me with troubled faces. “Luna, you’re the older sister. Why don’t you give the scholarship spot at Elite Academy to Lily?” In my past life, I had cried and screamed, demanding to go to the private school. Helpless, my parents sent my sister, Lily, to the public magnet school. This time, I nodded without hesitation, my heart full of joy. “Okay! Let her go! I want to go to the public magnet school!” Actually, it wasn’t just this once. At every juncture where my sister was supposed to meet the male lead, I had intervened. Without meeting him, my sister’s academic and professional career soared. But no one understood my intentions. Everyone said I was jealous of my sister, that her success was purely due to her own efforts. My parents sighed in relief. After I left the room, I heard them whispering. “We really need to invest heavily in Lily this time. She’s the real heroine! We can’t make the same mistake as last time, thinking Luna was the main character. We got nothing out of it, just trouble!” Invest heavily? Where would a working-class family get that kind of money? That reminded me. In my last life, shortly after I entered the private academy, my parents won fifty thousand dollars in the lottery. It was through insider info from the male lead, Archer Vance, that I told them to invest in real estate instead of spending it. That was how our family climbed out of poverty and into the middle class. Just then, my sister looked at me with crossed arms and a mocking smirk. “Go ahead to public school then. Go compete with those nerds until you drop. Enjoy the cold showers in the dorms during winter!” “What’s mine will eventually be mine. No one can take it away!” Suddenly, I understood. It wasn’t just me. My whole family had been reborn. Interesting. Then keep dreaming your billionaire dreams. Go enjoy the backstabbing, the physical and mental torment of high society life. I’ll gladly bear the “hardship” of studying in peace. Our house was far from the schools. I wanted to spend more time studying. Knowing my parents had already won the lottery, I asked to live on campus. But they roared in anger. “Dorm fees are five hundred a semester! That’s expensive! You have no idea how hard your father and I work for money!” Just then, my sister came home from Elite Academy, carrying several large bags of snacks and toys. My parents beamed, patting her head and praising her potential, while simultaneously scolding me. “Look at Lily, so capable! Not only does her scholarship cover everything, but she’s already bringing things home to help the family at such a young age. You, going to that public school, we have to pay for books and now you want dorm money? Useless spendthrift!” Sure enough, even in a new life, my parents’ bias hadn’t changed a bit. Before, when my sister ranked tenth in the school, they bragged to everyone that their daughter was a genius. They never cared that I was now second in the entire school, only five points away from first place. My sister bragged to me about her experiences at Elite Academy and how well Archer treated her. “Even though I’m a scholarship student, he never looks down on me. He always gives me gifts and says I’m the most special girl he’s ever met.” “He said he’s interested in how normal people live and wants to come to our house for dinner tomorrow. Mom, Dad, you need to prepare well!” My parents praised her, promising to cook their best dishes for him. In my last life, this was the turning point. I had sent my sister away so they wouldn’t meet. He secretly took photos of my cramped, cluttered home, which led to me being mocked and bullied at school for three whole years. When I was at my most helpless, he stepped in like a hero. He trapped me in a whirlpool of tenderness that hid a sharp knife. It was only a long, long time later that I learned the truth. Since my whole family was reborn, I wasn’t sure if Archer was too. So I feigned illness, wearing a mask and glasses to prevent him from recognizing me. As soon as he arrived, he instinctively pinched his nose. “Is something rotting? It smells like mold.” My parents’ faces turned black instantly, but they still served the feast they had spent all day preparing. The braised pork meatballs, a dish we only ate during holidays, sat untouched. Archer didn’t take a single bite, yet he offered fake praise. “Mr. and Mrs. Solis, your cooking is amazing. No wonder you raised such a beautiful and talented daughter like Lily!” My parents were ecstatic, bragging everywhere that the Solis family was about to produce a billionaire’s wife, that their good days were coming. They became even more determined to invest in my sister. They actually used the fifty thousand dollars from the lottery to sign Lily up for etiquette classes that cost two thousand a session, five times a week. While my parents ignored me, I had already taken first place in the city-wide joint exams, becoming a priority student for the teachers. One day, a childhood friend who was also a scholarship student at Elite Academy texted me: [Did you know your sister is getting bullied badly by those rich kids? I don’t dare help her. Archer Vance, that billionaire heir, said anyone who helps her is the next target. He told us to keep it quiet…] [Then don’t help. Protect yourself.] My friend was confused: [Don’t you protect your sister the most? Since we were kids, if anyone bullied her, you were always the first to fight back.] That was because my biased parents taught me from a young age that the older sister must protect the younger sister, must yield to her. But if I protect her, who protects me? We are fraternal twins, born only five minutes apart. A month later, my parents looked distressed and proposed selling the house. “Luna, the family is really struggling. We can live in the employee dorms anyway, and your sister lives at school. This house is useless. Plus, your sister’s etiquette classes need money…” I couldn’t believe they had burned through fifty thousand in a month and still wanted to continue. I laughed out of sheer anger. “Ha, what about me? If you sell the house, do I live on the street?” Just then, my sister came home, soaked and covered in bruises. Seeing our parents, she burst into tears and threw herself at them. “Why am I still bullied by rich classmates even when I try so hard? Is it because I’m not elegant enough, not beautiful enough, so Archer won’t help me?” My parents hugged her, comforting her softly. “Lily, don’t be scared. Mommy and Daddy will sell the house right now to sign you up for better classes.” They immediately contacted an agency that trained “debutantes,” boldly claiming they would add dance and vocal lessons costing five thousand a session. These three were insane beyond reason! I couldn’t hold back and shouted, “Enough! Am I not your daughter?! I just want a place to live, is that so hard?!” Mom, seeing my sister weeping in her arms, was heartbroken. She rushed over and slapped me across the face. “Your sister has been bullied like this! And you’re still making a scene!” Suddenly, text comments floated in the air: [Boohoo, poor little Lily, just endure a bit longer. When you’re of age, CEO Archer will come to marry you!] [This older sister is so short-sighted. She doesn’t know our Lily will be the most famous wife in the city’s elite circle!] My sister stopped crying. The three of them stared wide-eyed at the floating text. I silently lowered my head, pretending I saw nothing. Dad waved his hand, making the final decision: “Luna, go live with your uncle! You’re the older sister, stop being so selfish. We are selling this house!” I tried hard to think. To think about how Lily would suffer later, how my parents would be destitute after selling the house. Don’t be angry. Don’t be sad. Don’t cry. But the grievances of being treated unfairly all these years turned into bitterness that filled my heart. I buried my face in my pillow and cried secretly all night before I could breathe again. I couldn’t fight them. I was sent to live with my uncle. My parents stopped caring about me. To earn tuition, I signed up for the city’s biology competition. First prize was five thousand dollars. I never expected to run into Archer at the finals. The moment he saw me, he froze. I knew that expression well. It was the same look he gave Lily the first time he saw her in my past life. Archer grabbed my arm, frowning. “I’ll give you fifty thousand. Give up the first place to me.” I shook him off and turned to run. He blocked my path. “I’ll hire the best biology professors for you. It’s just a title, it’s not that important to you, right?” Seeing him made me sick. “I don’t want your filthy money! If you want first place, beat me with your own skills!” Unsurprisingly, I took first place and the prize money. Thinking back, I actually regretted not taking his fifty thousand. I must have been crazy. But because of that first place, I received an offer from the Junior Class of the nation’s top university. I just needed to finish the high school curriculum in one year and pass the exams to enter the best program. Not long after, Lily’s situation changed drastically. Lily held her head high like an arrogant swan. “Did you know? Now no one in school dares to mess with me. Archer Vance announced to everyone that I am his future fiancée.” My parents couldn’t hide the pride in their eyes, speaking to me as if granting charity. “When your sister marries into a wealthy family, our good days will come. We’ll buy several big houses then, maybe even give you one.” Good days? Days of hell were coming. Five years later, I had completed my undergraduate degree in biology at the top university and was fast-tracked to a Ph.D. program. I was only twenty years old. Five or six years ahead of where Lily was in my past life. I hadn’t contacted my family in a long time. Chatting with my childhood friend, Chloe, I heard rumors about Lily. News that the heir Archer Vance insisted on getting engaged to Lily shocked the elite circle. And it was all because Lily looked seventy percent like Archer’s “white moonlight”—his lost love. “I heard Archer’s white moonlight was a brilliant beauty, totally different from an idiot like Lily who dropped out of high school.” The more I listened, the stranger it sounded. I pressed on: “How did Archer meet this white moonlight?” “Uh, I heard it was at a biology competition…” My heart skipped a beat. In my past life, wasn’t Lily able to return to him because she was the white moonlight? Could it be… in this life, I accidentally took the heroine’s script? No, that’s not right! I suddenly realized. Logically, after I died in the past life, Lily’s “heroine luck” should have returned to her. But she and my parents were reborn around the same time as me. That means, after I died, they died too! If she was the true heroine, how could Archer let her die?! Unless, in this script, both my sister and I must die. I had read a type of tragic novel. The male lead only regrets after the heroine dies. In his remorse over losing his beloved wife, he grows to hate the “white moonlight,” eventually killing her to avenge his wife. If that’s the case, I wasn’t sure if I could fight fate, if I could escape Archer. Or what methods he might use to bind me back to them. How on earth could I escape this destined death… My phone pinged. Lily sent an invitation to her engagement party: [Sister, I genuinely hope you can come.] At the engagement party. My parents, in cheap, wrinkled suits, were stopped by security, looking anxious. “Is there a misunderstanding? We are the in-laws of the Vance family! Why can’t we go in?!” The guard sneered. “Hmph, if I say you can’t enter, you can’t. Those are the master’s specific orders.” Seeing this, I figured they wouldn’t let me in either if I said I was the bride’s family. So I sneaked into the backstage dressing room and found Lily. She was exquisite as a porcelain doll, but the high spirits of the past were gone. Her eyes were empty and lifeless. Lily clutched her stomach, cold sweat pouring down her face. The makeup artist complained while applying powder: “Oh my god, Miss Solis, can’t you sit still? If the powder looks cakey and ugly, and Mr. Vance gets angry, you’re just making trouble for me!” She meekly apologized and swallowed a handful of painkillers. In my past life, at this time, she should have just aborted her third child for Archer. He had needs every night but disliked using protection, yet he refused to let me carry his child. He said a replacement from the slums like me didn’t deserve to bear the Vance heir. Suddenly, I felt a strange sympathy for Lily. I grabbed the makeup artist’s hand, snatching the powder puff. “She’s clearly in pain and you have this attitude? If you’re this unprofessional, get out. I’ll do it!” Lily looked at me like I was a savior, her eyes instantly red. “Sister, thank you for being so good to me…” She told me about her suffering by that dog’s side these past few years. Archer monopolized her, forbidding her from socializing or contacting the outside world, forcing her to be a compliant doll. She couldn’t save herself because she couldn’t study like I did to build a future. She was bound, tied down. A canary with broken wings, kept only for amusement. Exactly like the old me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388741”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel