Category: English

Chapter 1 My husband couldn’t forget his “one that got away.” In the VIP room of a club, drunk out of his mind, he confessed his truth to his friends: “I’ve loved her for years. It killed me that she got married before I could confess. And now that she’s finally divorced, it kills me that I’m married.” I wasn’t angry. I still stayed by his side. My husband despised me. He saw me as a pathetic, clingy doormat with no personality, an obstacle standing between him and his true love. He desperately wanted to divorce me. But every time he brought it up, I refused. What he didn’t know was that he was just my assigned target. I only needed to reject his demand for a divorce three times, and the system would forcibly terminate my mission. … When I rushed to the club through the pouring rain, I arrived just in time to hear Arthur Sterling’s confession: “I’ve loved her for years, but before I could tell her, she got married.” “And now that she’s finally divorced, I’m the one who’s tied down.” One of his frat brothers teased him, “You could always just get a divorce, man.” Arthur’s drunken voice dripped with disdain and contempt. “That woman is obsessed with me. She’s practically psychotic. Do you really think she’d ever agree to a divorce?” “You guys have no idea. Every time I see her hovering around me, I get sick to my stomach. She has absolutely no personality, no sense of self.” “She couldn’t even compare to one of Chloe’s fingernails.” I stood frozen in the hallway outside the open door. Behind me, the sharp click-clack of high heels echoed. It was Arthur’s beloved “one that got away,” Chloe Vance. “Mia, you’re here. Why aren’t you going inside?” she asked, her voice light and musical. She flashed me a brilliant, arrogant smile, her pretty eyes glinting with malice. “What are you eavesdropping on?” The men inside suddenly noticed me. The color drained from their faces, and they shot guilty, panicked looks at Arthur. For a split second, Arthur looked sober and terrified, but his expression instantly hardened into ice. “You heard all of that?” There were too many people in the room. To save Arthur’s face, I played dumb. “Heard what? I just got here.” Arthur let out a cold, disgusted laugh and turned his head away, refusing to look at me. I walked into the room to help him up. “It’s really late. Let’s go home.” Arthur violently shoved me away without a shred of hesitation. He snapped impatiently, “Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t coming home tonight? Why did you track me down? Do you have any idea how annoying you are?” He was drunk, so he didn’t bother hiding his temper. His expression was a terrifying, vicious scowl I had never seen before. It made him look like a complete stranger. Actually, maybe not a stranger. He had been treating me like this for a while now. Ever since his “true love” announced her divorce. “Arthur, don’t talk to Mia like that. She only came to pick you up because she cares about you,” Chloe chimed in with sickeningly fake sweetness. “How about this: Mia and I will take you home together. Is that okay?” Arthur looked at Chloe’s face, and his features softened visibly. “Okay.” So, I ended up driving, while Arthur and Chloe squeezed into the backseat together. I don’t know if Arthur was actually blackout drunk or just doing it on purpose, but he laid his head directly on Chloe’s lap, resting there intimately like they were deeply in love. It made my eyes burn. Chloe offered a sickly-sweet apology. “Mia, please don’t misunderstand. Arthur is just drunk. I really hope you two don’t fight because of me.” I didn’t say a word. I had absolutely zero desire to waste my energy interacting with a manipulative homewrecker. But Chloe just wouldn’t shut up. “You really do have a boring personality. No wonder you and Arthur haven’t developed any real feelings after being married for five years.” Chapter 2 Those words actually stung. Yeah. Once upon a time, I had genuinely fantasized about the whole “arranged marriage turning into true love” trope with him. But at the end of the day, Arthur always loved his “one that got away” more. When the car pulled up to the estate, Chloe completely ignored me and practically carried Arthur inside by herself. I didn’t stop her. I just sat in the driver’s seat, looking at the photo I had just taken on my phone. The next day, when Arthur sobered up, I shoved the photo in his face. It was a picture of him sleeping peacefully on Chloe’s lap, while she gazed down at him with profound affection. Arthur stared at the screen, stunned. Then, a subtle wave of joy washed over his face. I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was absolutely thrilled that Chloe was looking at him with love in her eyes. So, I intentionally threw a massive tantrum, screaming at him, “What exactly is going on between you and that homewrecking slut, Chloe Vance?!” Arthur’s brow furrowed instantly. “Mia, watch your mouth. Have some class, will you?” I yelled back furiously, “Even if I have no class, I am still your wife! I have every right to control what you do, and I have every right to curse out the homewrecker you’re messing around with!” I used the ugliest words I could think of. Just as I hoped, Arthur’s expression turned pitch black. He glared at me with absolute freezing hatred. “What? Am I not your wife? Do I not have that right?!” “Then let’s get a divorce,” Arthur said, his voice dripping with profound exhaustion and disgust. “Mia, we’re getting a divorce.” I forced myself to look hysterical and screamed, “I will not agree to that! Arthur Sterling, I will never divorce you!” Arthur gave me a look that practically said, I knew it. As if he had predicted exactly how pathetic and desperate I would be. Sick of my presence, he slammed the bedroom door and left. The second he was gone, the furious mask melted off my face. I calmly pulled out a chair and sat down at my desk. Finally. He initiated the divorce. Six years ago, the System pulled me into this dimension and assigned me the mission of capturing Arthur Sterling’s heart. For six years, I played the role of the devoted, deeply-in-love woman flawlessly. I sacrificed everything to marry him. At one point, I even actually fell for him. But Arthur still didn’t love me. I failed the mission. Now, the only way out was the fail-safe: if Arthur explicitly demanded a divorce three separate times, the mission would be forcibly terminated, and I could finally return to my own world. That was strike one. Just two more to go. When Arthur returned home later that day, I was in my study, organizing my illustration drafts. After marrying Arthur, I became a full-time housewife, but I also worked as a freelance illustrator. I had actually built a pretty solid following online. Right now, I was finalizing my very first original comic series. It had taken me over two years to conceptualize and draw. Originally, I planned to publish it in this world, but since I was leaving soon, I decided to take the intellectual property back to my original dimension with me. Hearing the front door open, I closed my sketchbook and walked out to greet him, pretending our massive fight never happened. “You’re back?” I asked softly. Arthur looked incredibly stiff and awkward, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out. I walked toward him, knowing exactly what was coming, but feigning ignorance. “I made your favorite soup. Let me go heat it up for you.” The second I stepped out of the study, I saw exactly why Arthur looked so guilty. Chloe was standing in the foyer, holding a massive suitcase. “Hi, Mia,” Chloe said, flashing me a gentle, apologetic smile. “I’ve been getting harassed by some crazy stalker fans lately, so I can’t stay at my place. Would it be okay if I crashed here for a few days until things cool down?” I stared at her, my face completely blank. I didn’t say a word. Arthur, clearly feeling guilty, spoke up softly to defend her. “It’s true. Some fan leaked Chloe’s address. They’ve been banging on her door every night and following her.” Seeing my continued silence, Arthur started to lose his patience. His brows drew together in an irritated scowl. “There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Chloe. We’ve just been friends for years. She’s in trouble, and I can’t just leave her out on the street.” “Mia, there has to be a limit to your irrational jealousy. Stop testing my patience. We’ve been married for five years; can you please grow up and stop acting like a dramatic teenager?” “Fine,” I said, breaking my gaze away from Chloe and looking directly at Arthur. “She can stay.” Chapter 3 Why wouldn’t I let her stay? Having her living under the same roof was the fastest way to detonate the remaining tension between Arthur and me. It was the quickest way to get him to demand a divorce for the second time. The sooner I could leave this world, the better. Arthur looked at me in genuine shock. His eyes flickered with something unreadable—almost like he was still unsatisfied. “What? I said yes, and you’re still not happy?” Arthur frowned, pointing a warning finger at me. “Don’t try anything stupid. If I find out you’re secretly bullying Chloe while I’m not around, I won’t let it slide.” I actually wanted to laugh out loud. I was his legal wife, yet he was bending over backwards to protect an outsider from me. I really wanted to ask him: Arthur, after all these years together, have you honestly never felt a single shred of genuine affection for me? But I didn’t. Arthur ignored me and hurried down the stairs to help Chloe with her luggage. While he was setting up the guest room, I heard him cheerfully say to her, “Mia made this incredible herbal soup earlier. Once we’re done unpacking, I’ll bring you a bowl.” “Mia has a lot of flaws, but her cooking is top-tier. Your health hasn’t been great lately, so we’ll have her cook some nutritious meals for you while you’re here.” I rolled my eyes and scoffed. Arthur, do you really think that just because we’re married, I’m your personal maid? Do you honestly believe that no matter how much you degrade me, I’ll never leave you? I can’t wait to see the look on your face when I’m finally gone. I walked downstairs, went straight into the kitchen, drank one bowl of the soup myself, and poured the entire rest of the pot straight down the garbage disposal. I spent all day simmering that soup. I’d rather pour it down the drain than let this trashy duo have a single drop. I went back up to my study and resumed organizing my comic drafts. Not ten minutes later, Arthur violently shoved the study door open, glaring at me. “Where is the soup?” I kept my eyes on my tablet and answered coldly, “I dumped it.” “What?!” Arthur looked like a completely different person. His voice exploded with rage. “Mia, what the hell is your problem?! If you didn’t want Chloe to stay here, you should have just said no! What is the point of agreeing to her face and then playing these passive-aggressive, petty little games behind my back?!” I looked up at him, my voice freezing cold. “If I had said no, would you have gracefully accepted it without throwing a fit?” Arthur glared at me, struck speechless. I stared right back at him, holding my breath, waiting for him to drop the D-word for the second time. But to my immense disappointment, he didn’t. He just slammed the door and stormed out again. Late that night, after washing up, I got into bed. Downstairs in the living room, Arthur and Chloe were drinking wine and laughing. The atmosphere sounded incredibly cozy and romantic; their laughter echoed all the way up to the master bedroom. I don’t know how much time passed. I was deep in sleep when I suddenly felt heavy arms wrap around me from behind. It was Arthur. His breath was scorching hot and reeked of alcohol. He started pressing wet, sloppy kisses against the back of my neck. A wave of absolute revulsion washed over me. I violently shoved him off. “What are you doing?!” The shove sobered him up slightly. He scowled in annoyance. “You’re my wife. What do you think I’m doing?” Seeing me physically recoil from him, his face darkened into a menacing glare. “This is your duty as a wife. Mia, if you’re going to keep acting like a prude and refuse to let me touch you, then get the hell out of my house.” Ever since I discovered he was emotionally cheating with Chloe, I hadn’t let him touch me. It had been almost three months. “Your house?” I asked, my voice flat. Arthur looked at me with smug, absolute superiority, fully convinced I was about to yield. “When you married me, you had absolutely nothing. I paid for this house entirely by myself, so yes, it’s my house. Did you forget, Mia? You literally begged me to marry you.” “If you aren’t going to let me touch you, then get out!” Chapter 4 I was so utterly speechless that I just went quiet, and then a bitter laugh escaped my lips. Back then, he was my assigned target. To complete the mission, I really had begged him to marry me. I couldn’t deny it. I just never expected that the man I had actually developed real feelings for would weaponize my vulnerability to obliterate my dignity. “Fine. I’m leaving.” I opened the closet and haphazardly threw a few essentials into a duffel bag. Before walking out the door, I paused for a second. I was waiting for him to deliver the killing blow—to say something cruel, like, If you walk out that door, we’re getting a divorce. But Arthur completely misread my hesitation. He ruthlessly mocked me. “I thought you were leaving? Go on! Walk out!” His tone made it painfully obvious that he thought I was just throwing a theatrical tantrum for attention, and that I’d never actually leave him. I realized the fire wasn’t quite hot enough yet. I needed to push him over the edge. So, I pivoted, marched straight to the guest room where Chloe was sleeping, and started violently pounding on the door. I wanted to manufacture a catastrophic, explosive argument to force Arthur to say the word ‘divorce’. Arthur sprinted down the hall and grabbed my arm, yanking me back. “What the hell are you doing, Mia?! Have you lost your damn mind?!” I thrashed against his grip. “Let me go! Arthur, don’t think I don’t know exactly what you’re planning! You’re obsessed with Chloe, aren’t you?! I’m going to ask her right now if she actually wants you!” I thought pushing this specific button would guarantee he demanded a divorce. But I never, in a million years, expected his reaction. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the hallway. I froze, completely stunned into silence. Arthur looked equally shocked. He stood there, staring at his trembling hand, his lips parting slightly. He looked like he wanted to apologize, but his pride wouldn’t let him. Finally, he just gritted out, “Get back in your room.” I felt a profound, bottomless disappointment in him. Staring at his bloodshot eyes, I felt tears threatening to spill. Arthur couldn’t maintain eye contact. He looked away and muttered, “Mia, if you pull a stunt like this again, I really will divorce you.” Finally. I finally heard the words I had been waiting for. Even though every fiber of my being was screaming YES! Let’s go sign the papers right now!, I had to play my part. I forced myself to look devastated, choking back tears of “anger and betrayal.” “I will never agree to that!” I turned and practically sprinted out of the villa. Finally. Just one more strike, and I could permanently evacuate this nightmare. I wandered the empty streets for hours before finally stopping. Staring at the desolate roads and the flickering amber streetlights, a heavy wave of existential dread washed over me. Six years ago, I was dropped into this world. My entire existence had revolved around one single objective: Arthur Sterling. I had spent so much time orbiting him that I had never bothered to build a life or a social circle of my own. Thank God I had never given up my career as an illustrator. Once I returned to my original world, I could use my new comic series to establish myself as a successful artist. The thought of my comic made me instantly regret storming out so fast. I had forgotten my manuscript drafts in the study. I’d have to find an excuse to go back and pack them up. I checked into a nearby hotel. Days passed, and Arthur didn’t reach out once. I didn’t want to waste any more time, so just as I was hyping myself up to go back to the villa and force the final confrontation, disaster struck. Chloe Vance uploaded my entire comic series to her massive art account. She had digitized my hand-drawn drafts, but the character designs, the plot, the storyboards… it was all a 1:1 stolen copy. I was so furious I nearly blacked out. I immediately called Arthur. I called five times. He ignored every single one, and eventually just turned his phone off. I forced myself to calm down. I logged onto my own art account, tagged Chloe, and publicly accused her of plagiarism. Chloe and I were both illustrators, but our careers were vastly different. I focused entirely on the art, while she operated more like an influencer. She had recently monetized her highly publicized divorce to farm massive amounts of sympathy and traffic, so her follower count was currently explosive. Chloe immediately released a statement denying the allegations, calling me a liar and demanding I produce hard evidence or issue a public apology. My original physical drafts were locked in the study at the villa. I obviously couldn’t produce them on the spot. Within minutes, her rabid fanbase swarmed my account, flooding my comments and DMs with so much toxic abuse that my phone literally crashed. Chapter 5 I hailed a cab back to the villa while simultaneously redialing Arthur’s number. This time, he finally picked up. His voice was laced with undeniable guilt. My instincts kicked in, and I immediately hit record on the call. “Did you give my manuscript to Chloe?” Arthur didn’t answer the question. Instead, he deflected, “Where are you?” “Answer the question, Arthur! You know damn well that comic is the culmination of years of my hard work!” Arthur’s voice turned impatient and defensive. “I said I’d compensate you! What do you want? I’ll buy you a house, okay?” I ground my teeth together, absolutely livid. “I am asking you why you gave my life’s work to Chloe Vance! That is my intellectual property!” “Didn’t I just say I’d pay you back?! When Chloe starts making revenue from the comic, she’ll give you a cut!” Arthur’s sheer audacity completely shattered my understanding of human depravity. “Just delete those accusations you posted online. If you do that… I promise I will never bring up divorce again.” “Hah.” I actually laughed out loud. Never bring up divorce again? The absolute only thing I wanted from him right now was for him to demand a divorce. “In your dreams,” I snarled into the phone. “Arthur, I am getting my work back.” The second I hung up, I uploaded the raw audio recording directly to my social media. It acted like a nuclear bomb. The internet exploded. A significant portion of the hate comments vanished, replaced by a massive wave of skeptics demanding Chloe provide hard proof of her ownership, since audio recordings could easily be faked or taken out of context. The cab pulled up to the gate. I threw cash at the driver and sprinted toward the villa. Arthur and Chloe were sitting in the living room. Chloe’s face was streaked with tears. She was leaning weakly against Arthur’s shoulder, sobbing a pathetic, tragic picture of victimhood. The second she saw me, her eyes widened in a desperate, pleading gaze. Arthur, on the other hand, glared at me like I had just murdered his family. I only cared about one thing. “Where is my manuscript?” Arthur didn’t answer. He closed the distance between us in three massive strides, violently grabbed my wrist, and snatched my phone—which was currently recording video—right out of my hand. He hurled it onto the marble floor, shattering the screen. He stared at me with pure, unadulterated venom. “Mia, you are a profound disappointment. You spent years claiming you loved me, claiming your entire life revolved around me. But the second I ask you to make one tiny sacrifice for me, you refuse, and then you leak our private phone call to the internet?!” His face was a mask of furious disappointment, placing the entirety of the blame squarely on my shoulders. “Are you trying to destroy my life?! You never used to be like this! You used to be obedient. You bent over backwards to make me happy. That was the version of you I actually tolerated.” “Now? Looking at you right now makes me sick. I have absolutely zero interest in you.” “We are getting a divorce, Mia.” Arthur stared intensely into my eyes, his expression radiating absolute certainty and expectation. He was entirely convinced that I would instantly crumble. He thought I would panic, reject the divorce, and immediately agree to all his demands just to stay by his side. But what he didn’t know was… this was the third strike. He had formally demanded a divorce three times. I no longer had to reject him. Because the System had just pinged in my brain: the forced termination sequence had been initiated. I was finally leaving.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391556”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was Mom’s most cherished “Maple Syrup Baby,” born unable to touch sugar. A severe case of Maple Syrup Urine Disease meant that even a hint of sweetness could cause full-body swelling and suffocation. To balance my delicate psyche, Mom forced my twin brother and me to drink bitter medicine and eat special meals together. When we were seven, my brother, desperate for a taste, secretly licked a discarded candy wrapper he found on the ground. Mom discovered him, rushed over like a madwoman, and forcefully clamped his throat, making him vomit: “You worthless brat! Are you that greedy?!” “Your sister fights for her life every day, and you only care about your own pleasure?!” “I’m telling you, you deserve to suffer with your sister your whole life! As long as she’s alive, you won’t touch sugar for a single day!” Under my brother’s hateful gaze, I was consumed by shame. So, on the eve of our eighteenth birthday, I decided to use my death to grant him his freedom. I slipped into the kitchen and secretly ate an entire chocolate cake. Yet, after a night passed, the expected swelling and suffocation never came. Looking at my rosy, healthy face in the mirror, a chill ran through me: If I was fine, then who was the “Maple Syrup Baby” that Mom fought so hard to protect? 1 Last night, I stared at that fragrant chocolate cake, feeling nothing but immense relief. I clasped my hands together, silently wishing into the air: “Next life, I still want to be Mom’s daughter, Asher’s sister.” “But please, God, don’t let me be a ‘Maple Syrup Baby’ again.” “I want to be a healthy child, to eat sweets without a care, to run freely in the sun…” I opened my eyes, trembling as I dug a large spoonful of cake into my mouth. So sweet. I swallowed in big gulps, tears mixing with cream as they flowed into my mouth. Then I quietly lay back on the bed, waiting for death’s pronouncement. One minute, two minutes, an hour… There was no expected difficulty breathing, no full-body swelling, not even a hint of dizziness or nausea! I looked at my rosy-cheeked reflection in the mirror. What was going on? I’d eaten an entire chocolate cake, enough sugar to kill me ten times over! Why was I completely unharmed? Was Mom just too anxious before, and my illness wasn’t actually that serious? Or… was this the so-called ‘flash before death’? I suppressed the surging questions and fear in my heart and walked out of the bedroom. At the dining table, Mom was carrying two bowls of grayish-brown paste, placing them in front of my brother and me, constantly emitting a foul odor. It was my special nutritional powder; for eighteen years, I had sustained my life with this stuff. “I’m not eating it!” My brother, Asher, seemed to reach his breaking point. He violently waved his hand, knocking the scalding paste directly onto the floor. He pointed at the puddle and roared: “Are you crazy? I have hands, feet, and a healthy body, why do you insist on forcing me and that invalid to eat the same pig slop?” “Is this stuff even fit for humans? Not even a dog would sniff it!” Mom’s eyes instantly reddened, tears welling up immediately. “Asher! How can you say that? Do you have no conscience?” “Do you think Mom wants you to suffer? Look at your sister, Willow! She’ll only ever be able to eat this kind of thing her whole life, she’s never even tasted a bite of meat or a single piece of candy! How do you think she feels seeing you eat lavish meals?” Mom pointed at me, her voice choked. “If your sister sees you eating good food, she’ll get jealous, and her condition will worsen! Once it flares up, it’s tens of thousands in medical bills! The whole family suffering with your sister, that’s how we do things in this house!” Asher turned to look at me, his eyes devoid of any sympathy, only a thick, suffocating hatred. Seeing that brute force wasn’t working, Mom immediately changed her approach. “Son, listen. As long as you drink this bowl, and don’t make your sister feel unfairly treated, Mom will transfer money to you right away. That game skin you wanted, I’ll buy it for you, alright?” Asher’s face softened slightly. He snorted, then reluctantly picked up the bowl. Having dealt with Asher, Mom came over to me, gently stroking my hair, her eyes full of self-congratulation. “Willow, see? This naughty boy doesn’t understand, but Mom has to make him realize that in this family, your feelings come first!” As she spoke, she brought over the bowl of strange-smelling nutritional powder, half-forcing, half-persuading me to take a sip. “Mom buying him that skin, it’s just a necessary evil, to shut him up so he doesn’t make a fuss and upset you. In Mom’s heart, you’re still the most precious.” “Come on, good girl, drink it quickly. Mom specially prepared this for you, don’t let Mom’s hard work go to waste.” I looked at Mom’s eyes, filled with doting affection, and then at Asher, who, despite drinking the paste, had a smug smirk on his face. In the past, I would have been moved to tears, feeling like the happiest and most indebted daughter in the world. To repay Mom’s ‘favoritism,’ I would have tried my hardest to be good to Asher, enduring all his bullying. But now, the lingering sweetness of chocolate in my throat felt like a thorn in my heart. If I wasn’t sick, if eating sugar wouldn’t kill me… then why was Mom forcing a healthy Asher to eat this ‘pig slop’ with me? She said she loved me the most, but why did it feel like she was deliberately steering Asher’s hatred towards me? “Willow? What are you staring at? Drink up. After this, we’re going to the mall to do some New Year’s shopping.” Mom’s words brought me back to reality. I lowered my head and, suppressing my nausea, drank it all in one gulp. At the mall, Mom carried large shopping bags, all for Asher. A designer down jacket costing over three hundred dollars, the latest Apple phone, even limited-edition sneakers. Asher preened in front of the mirror in his new clothes, and Mom stood by, smiling lovingly. “Asher is going to do great things in the future. Since he’s healthy, he needs to see more of the world, dress well, so he can support your sister later.” When she turned to me, the smile on Mom’s face subtly faded. She casually pulled an old-fashioned, even slightly threadbare, discounted red cotton jacket from a promotional rack and shoved it into my arms. Before I could speak, Mom pressed my hand with a pained expression. “Willow, don’t mind the old style of this jacket, it’s pure natural cotton, very breathable. Those fancy down jackets might look good, but they’re all synthetic and duck down, full of allergens. Your body is delicate, what if you get sick wearing them? Listen to Mom, we’ll take this one.” I looked at my ridiculous, ugly reflection in the mirror, then at my dazzling brother next to me, and, suppressing a pang of sadness, nodded. “Thank you, Mom.” In the past, I would have been touched by Mom’s thoughtfulness. But now, I only felt that red cotton jacket was an unshakeable layer of humiliation. While shopping for New Year’s groceries, the candy aisle in the supermarket was piled high with colorful mountains of sweets. Asher’s eyes instantly lit up. While Mom was choosing melon seeds, he grabbed a handful of crisp candies and shoved them into his pocket. But I saw it, and Mom saw it too. “Smack!” Asher stumbled back from Mom’s blow, covering his face as he looked up in disbelief. “Take out the candy!” Mom shrieked hysterically. “Who told you to take candy? If you bring these home, will your sister see them and crave them? With her condition, craving can be deadly!” “How can you be so selfish! You have no sympathy! The whole family is sacrificing for your sister, and here you are, secretly hiding candy to eat! Do you have any conscience?!” The elderly shoppers around us began to whisper. “This mother has it so hard.” “Yes, and this younger brother is so thoughtless, he doesn’t consider his family at all.” “What selfless parental love, really. To accommodate her daughter’s feelings, even her healthy child has to give up sugar. This mother is truly great.” Listening to the praise from those around her, Mom’s anger transformed into a tragic, saintly glow. She wiped away tears, basking in everyone’s sympathy. Meanwhile, Asher stood in the center of the crowd, his face flushed crimson with shame and fury. He stared intently at me, his eyes wishing they could tear me apart on the spot. Back home, as soon as Mom went into the kitchen to cook, Asher grabbed my hair and roughly dragged me to the balcony. It was the dead of winter, there was no heating on the balcony, and the wind seeping through the glass panes cut at my face like knives. Asher stood in the warm living room, separated by the glass door, his expression distorted. “Mom says your body is delicate and can’t have sugar? Fine, then you shouldn’t use the heater either! The heater is for living people!” “If you freeze to death, the family won’t have to buy medicine for you anymore. The money saved will be enough for me to eat candy for a lifetime!” I huddled into a ball in the cold wind. That so-called old cotton jacket offered no warmth, and the biting wind instantly pierced through my bones. Inside the living room, the television played festive New Year’s programs, and the aroma of food wafted faintly, while I, like an abandoned dog, gradually lost feeling in my hands and feet, and my consciousness began to blur. It wasn’t until Mom came out with the dishes, saw me on the balcony, and cried out in alarm, opening the door and dragging me inside. I thought Mom would punish Asher. But she didn’t. She just called Asher, who was filled with malice, and me, who was shivering from the cold, together. She took out a thick ledger from a drawer, filled with densely packed numbers. “Look! All of you, look! This is how much money we’ve spent in the past eighteen years to treat Willow’s illness!” “Imported medicine, special nutritional powder, regular check-ups… which one isn’t an astronomical figure? For this money, Mom has scrimped and saved, not even daring to buy a decent piece of clothing for herself!” Mom pointed at the numbers, her eyes red as she spoke to Asher. “Son, don’t blame Mom for being strict with you. Our family is poor because of your sister’s illness. Mom doesn’t let you eat sugar because she’s afraid of triggering her, afraid she’ll get sick and we’ll have to spend money again! Our family really can’t afford it anymore!” “If you want to hate, then hate this damned fate! Don’t ever hate your sister, she doesn’t want to be a burden on us either!” Mom hugged Asher, weeping inconsolably, as if she were the most helpless, long-suffering mother in the world. I was wrapped in a blanket, my teeth still chattering, but my heart had completely turned cold. Sure enough, Asher picked up the ledger and looked at me, his eyes completely devoid of understanding, only a deeper, heavier hatred. It was a hatred that wished to get rid of me immediately, that wished I would drop dead so he and this family could finally be free!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391573”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My contract husband’s spiritual entity is a snow leopard. Whenever it gets close, it trembles and lets out a low growl. It also headbutts me. I thought it didn’t like me, so I gently suggested to Marcus that he keep it contained. But then I saw the live comments flickering in my vision: 「This leopard is trying to meow but sounds like it’s hacking up a year-old furball.」 「Sentinel: Honey, I love you! Honey: Why is this leopard headbutting me?」 「The wife has no spiritual entity, so she doesn’t know that Marcus is this shameless snow leopard.」 At the same time, I heard Marcus’s voice in my head: 「Just slap it. That’ll do the trick.」 A slap? I thought. Isn’t that more of a reward for you? 1 Marcus has gray-blue eyes. Exactly like the snow leopard currently rubbing against my calf. The only difference was the deep, purring rumble vibrating in the creature’s throat. Its round, shimmering blue eyes never left my face. I still couldn’t quite connect this massive cat with the man standing across the room. After I heard his mental suggestion, the comment feed exploded: 「When your wife slaps you, the first thing you notice is her scent.」 「What a way to reward himself. Marcus is a true connoisseur.」 「Aren’t Sentinels supposed to be impulsive hotheads? What’s this guy playing at?」 「Does anyone else see how cute Mochi is when he looks up like that?! I think Audrey is about to melt.」 「Wait, you’re telling me Marcus, the Chief Sentinel’s, spiritual entity is named Mochi?」 2 Marcus and I got married a month ago. The moment we signed the papers, he was called away on an urgent mission. After a rushed apology, he was gone, only returning today. My supervisor gave me the day off, considering a Guide’s primary duty is to provide spiritual soothing for their Sentinel. But the second I walked in the door, I was blocked by the snow leopard, leaving me no chance to get reacquainted with my new husband. Seeing me frozen in place, Marcus took a step closer. “Don’t be afraid. He’s just a little excited. He won’t hurt you.” I could smell the faint, clean scent of steam from his recent shower. I’d never been this close to a Sentinel before. I was a little nervous. I reached out and absently stroked the snow leopard’s ear. “What’s his name?” The next second, Marcus swayed on his feet. My hand met empty air. The snow leopard had vanished. I was about to say that I wasn’t scared of him anymore, that he didn’t need to put him away, when I saw Marcus’s jaw tighten. He spoke, his voice serious. “He needs to rest.” “Oh,” I said softly. I remembered then that he’d been on a mission for weeks. I discreetly started to back out of the bedroom. “Then I won’t disturb—” As I passed him, I noticed the tips of his ears were bright red. The comments mercilessly exposed him: 「Sentinels have heightened senses. Just a light touch on the ear from his wife and the whole leopard is about to roll over in ecstasy.」 「Little Marcus is on the verge of popping up to say hello to the wife.」 「Marcus, are you even a Sentinel? You compressed a three-month mission into one, worked nonstop to get back, and this is what you’re giving us?」 I paused. “Do you… need me to perform a soothing?” I asked, hesitating. “The people at the Citadel taught me the basics.” The words were barely out of my mouth before I regretted them. He was the Chief Sentinel. I was a deficient Guide with no spiritual entity and only a sliver of psychic energy. What good could I possibly do? I was so out of my league. Just as I was about to turn and flee in shame, a thick, furry tail curled around my calf. The snow leopard pushed me, and I tumbled onto the bed. Marcus immediately lay down on the other side. “My mindscape is dangerous. Just being near me is enough.” I didn’t understand what he meant at first. Not until a big, furry paw gently covered my eyes. We were just… sleeping. Wrapped in blankets. A stranger of a husband on one side, a giant, rumbling cat on the other. I thought it would be an impossible night. But when I opened my eyes again, it was morning. The room was empty. I assumed he’d been called away on another mission. Not thinking much of it, I got up and headed for the bathroom. Halfway there, I heard the sound of running water. Marcus hadn’t left? The next second, the comments flooded my vision: 「Never thought the wife would be such a wild sleeper. Like an octopus. Marcus held back all night, he’s about to explode.」 「It’s been over two hours. Is this the stamina of the Chief Sentinel?」 「A moment of silence for the wife’s future.」 I was still groggy and didn’t process it right away. Not until I heard a ragged gasp, barely audible over the shower, and then a broken whisper. He was saying my name. My face flushed hot. I turned to go to the downstairs bathroom, but the comments kept scrolling furiously: 「Marcus’s pocket is bulging. What did he stuff in there?」 「What could possibly be in the wife’s bathroom?」 「I think I know.」 「Me too. No wonder it’s been two hours.」 「Stop being so cryptic, AAAAAH!」 The moment I stepped into the bathroom, the words vanished. I dawdled inside for a long time, until I got a message from Marcus saying he’d left. Only then did I creep out. He was gone. I went back into the bathroom and looked around. My entire face felt like it was on fire. A few days ago, a friend had sent me a silk slip dress as a gift. I’d complained that the design was way too daring, but the fabric felt incredible. Since Marcus was away, I figured no one would see me if I wore it to bed. The only problem was that it wrinkled easily, so I had a habit of hanging it up in the bathroom after taking it off. But now, it was gone. 3 With Marcus’s whereabouts unknown, I had nothing to do at home, so I cancelled my leave and went back to the office. As it happened, a new Guide intern had just started and had no one to mentor him, so I sat next to him to help out. Suddenly, I felt a weight on my lap. It was a chubby orange tabby. The intern’s face went crimson. “I’m so sorry! I just awakened, I can’t control him very well yet!” I couldn’t resist stroking the cat’s head. “It’s okay. He’s adorable.” We were both Guides, after all. It was the perfect excuse to get my hands on a cat. The tabby was soft and pliant, a world away from the dense, heavy presence of the snow leopard. I lost myself in the simple joy of petting him. Even after the intern left for a meeting, I stayed at my desk, playing with the cat’s paws. I never expected Marcus to show up at my office. He lifted the chubby cat out of my arms by the scruff of its neck. “Can spiritual entities get pregnant?” His words were a mortal wound to the cat’s pride. It let out an indignant meow and vanished on the spot. The moment I got in the car, I was tackled by the snow leopard. It licked my face with wild abandon, the rough tongue tickling me until tears streamed from my eyes. I could only plead with Marcus for help with my eyes. He reached over and peeled Mochi off me, pulling me up. But a second later, we were both knocked over. Thankfully, the car was on auto-pilot. Sandwiched between the snow leopard and Marcus, I struggled for breath. The comments flew across my vision: 「The leopard smelled a strange cat on his wife and is now marking his territory.」 「Can someone please explain to me how the Chief Sentinel can be knocked over by his own spiritual entity?」 「Fun fact: on the battlefield, this leopard can shatter an enemy’s skull with a single swipe.」 「Let’s not talk about that.」 … As Marcus helped me up, I couldn’t stop my mind from racing as I stared at his face. Six months ago, agents from the Citadel had found me in a small border town. According to federal law, all Guides discovered in the wild must be brought under the Citadel’s control. I grew up in an orphanage, with no family, and certainly no spiritual entity. I never knew I was a Guide. I only knew that entering the Citadel meant one thing: waiting for the system to match you with a Sentinel. But on the way to the Citadel, our convoy was attacked. Marcus and his soldiers drove off the Wanderers. He told me our families were old friends. It was only then that I learned my parents had been high-level researchers for the state. They were killed in a targeted attack on scientists when I was six. I was lost in the chaos. At the Citadel, I attended classes with the others. Marcus visited occasionally. I heard from others that he was heavily criticized for not having a Guide. Many worried he would lose control without spiritual soothing. Meanwhile, I was facing my own mandatory matching. When I proposed a partnership, Marcus had a strange look on his face. He said he could help me apply for a deferment. “…Marriage is a serious matter, especially for a Guide.” I shook my head. “It’s going to be a forced match sooner or later anyway.” Besides, I really didn’t want to stay in the Citadel, learning flower arranging all day.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391592”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was dating a pair of identical twins, but neither of them knew it. They took turns going on dates with me, thinking they were playing me for a fool. Until today, when the younger brother jokingly ordered a dish and asked: “Hey, didn’t you remember I’m allergic to this?” I kept my face perfectly straight: “Isn’t it your older brother who’s allergic to this?” 1 After I dropped that bomb, a long, heavy silence stretched across the table. I realized it a second too late: “Did you guys not coordinate who was taking the shift today?” The smile on Elias’s face completely froze. A hint of genuine displeasure flashed in his beautiful, deep-set eyes. “You knew there were two of us?” Even though ‘Little E’ (Elias) and ‘Big E’ (Ezra) were identical down to the last freckle and were excellent at mimicking each other’s personalities, it was normal for an average person not to be able to tell them apart. But I wasn’t an average person. I could see their labels. Invisible ones, of course. Floating above Elias’s head was a glowing sign that read ‘Little E’. Floating above Ezra’s head was a sign reading ‘Big E’. Today’s date was with Elias. He was the clingy one. I totally got it. He was younger; it was perfectly normal. 2 Elias looked like he was having a minor mental breakdown, so I considerately called an end to the date. Looking at the handsome, shell-shocked boy, I affectionately patted his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Alright, why do you look like the sky is falling? “Go home and have a good chat with your brother about who gets tomorrow’s shift.” Just two of them… I can handle that. 3 What are you thinking? I’m talking about hot dogs. 4 The guy running the hot dog cart down the street was incredibly hot. Every time I walked by, I couldn’t help but stare for a minute. “Hey there, you got a girlfriend?” The hot dog guy seemed to remember something and let out a soft laugh. His eyes crinkled, flashing a brilliant, perfect smile. “Aren’t two boyfriends enough for you?” Oh, he actually knew? I swept my long hair over my shoulder, looking at my freshly manicured nails sparkling under the streetlights. “One more wouldn’t hurt.” My response was two hot dogs shoved directly into my hands. I assumed Ezra and Elias would need a couple of days to figure out their game plan. But when I got back to my apartment complex, I realized someone was already waiting downstairs. A glowing, neon label hovered in the dark night. Ezra. I had barely reached him before my wrist was pinned to the wall. Ezra kissed me fiercely, almost punishingly. It wasn’t until I couldn’t take it anymore and pushed him back slightly that he finally let go. Big E was definitely the more dominant one. I licked my lips and smirked. “Have you two decided what you’re going to say to me? “Ezra, for all this time, did you both think I was an idiot? “If I hadn’t accidentally ‘found out’, how much longer were you planning on playing this little game with me?” The wind wasn’t too strong between the buildings, but the night air still held a chill. I was wearing a black silk slip dress, and my bare shoulders shivered slightly. Ezra silently took off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. “It’s windy down here. Let’s go upstairs and talk, okay?” 5 When I was originally apartment hunting, Ezra was the one who came with me. He was actually pretty familiar with the layout. The moment we stepped inside, he flicked on the dim mood lighting. Only then did I get a good look at what he was wearing. I rarely saw Ezra in formal wear, and I’d never seen Elias in it either. But tonight, Ezra was wearing a crisp black dress shirt, having given his suit jacket to me. His eyes were incredibly dark as he addressed my questions from downstairs. His attitude toward admitting fault was excellent; he said it was entirely both of their faults. “But, Chloe.” Ezra wrapped his arm around my waist, lifting me up effortlessly, and pressed a kiss right behind my ear. “I still love you. “We can go house-hunting tomorrow. I’ll buy you a place, put it entirely in your name. Just please don’t be mad, okay?” The classic ‘obsessive billionaire buys forgiveness’ routine. I love it, Big E. My freshly changed sheets smelled faintly of lavender. Ezra stood by the bed, giving me a deep, unreadable look before heading to the bathroom to shower. “Wait for me.” While he was showering, I finally let my body relax on the bed. Being the absolute favorite of this many guys was honestly exhausting. My phone buzzed. It was a message from the hot dog guy I had just added on social media: [So, what are the requirements to be your boyfriend?] [Young, and good in bed.] I teased him: [Coming over?] I could hear the water turning off in the bathroom. I flipped my phone face down and looked up at Ezra. Both his and Elias’s clothes were kept here, but Ezra walked out wearing only a towel wrapped low around his waist. Droplets of water slid down his sharply defined abs, disappearing beneath the terrycloth. I swallowed hard, suddenly remembering that Ezra had absolutely zero restraint in bed, and I felt a brief flash of panic. “Chloe, exactly when did you figure out we weren’t the same person?” I was dating Ezra. And I knew he had an identical twin brother, Elias. But who would have guessed they were pulling a ‘Parent Trap’ and swapping places on dates with me? Talk about a massive upgrade for me. I didn’t answer, mostly because Ezra didn’t give me the chance. The mattress dipped heavily, and he yanked me into his arms, silencing me with a kiss. “I don’t care when you found out. The fact that you only ever sleep with me… does that mean you like me more?” 6 When I first found out my dad was setting me up with the Sterling brothers, my initial choice wasn’t actually Ezra. Big E was dominant, aggressive, and loved being in control. Little E was gentle, clingy, loved to pout, and was a total romantic. My original preference was definitely the younger brother, Elias. And the first one I interacted with at that high-society party was actually Little E. It was a birthday gala for a wealthy heiress I was good friends with. I had slipped away to the second-floor balcony to get some air. The balcony was wrapped in climbing roses. I thought I’d be alone up there. Instead, I found a guy wearing a silver silk pajama shirt, exposing a pair of beautifully sculpted collarbones. There was a glass of red wine on the tray next to him, and he was completely engrossed in tinkering with a beat-up old vintage radio. Wearing something that informal to a black-tie gala—he looked like he had just rolled out of bed and was ready to go right back to sleep. Then I remembered my friend mentioning that her younger brothers were currently staying at this particular mansion. Why didn’t she ever mention her brother was an absolute snack? I mentally cursed her out while taking a seat right next to him. Elias glanced up at me, then immediately looked back down, messing with the radio. After a long while, whether he succeeded or failed, he set the radio aside and took a sip of his wine. The radio crackled with static for a second before smooth, lo-fi jazz started playing. Elias leaned in close to me. As he bent forward, the loose collar of his silk shirt draped open, offering a spectacular view of his chest. “You look really familiar. Wanna make out?” 7 Up close, Elias’s face was fully illuminated. No matter how identical twins are, there are always subtle differences. Even with the exact same face, Elias just looked… sweeter. More innocent. His skin was pale, and his beautiful eyes held absolutely zero lust, yet he was saying something so incredibly provocative. I leaned back slightly, my eyes intentionally drifting down to his exposed chest, and smiled coyly. “Where do you want me to kiss you?” The boy suddenly went dead silent. Under the balcony lights, I saw the tips of his ears turn bright red. He instinctively rubbed his nose and mumbled. “Anywhere is fine.” The exact second Elias spoke his first sentence, I realized this wasn’t actually our first meeting. Elias was a student at Columbia University. I had run into him when I was accompanying my younger cousin on a campus tour. In a massive, stadium-seating philosophy lecture hall, my cousin and I had snagged seats in the very back row so I could secretly text. When I finally looked up, someone was sitting in the previously empty seat directly in front of me. Just from the back of his head and shoulders, I knew he was gorgeous. My heart did a little flutter, remembering all the TikToks about how great college guys were. After class, my cousin practically sprinted out the door. I didn’t have anything to pack up, but I intentionally took my time, trailing a half-step behind this guy. Once we hit the hallway and I got a clear look at his face, I picked up the pace in my heels and followed him. I cornered him by the stairwell, staring at his slightly trembling eyelashes, and put on my sweetest, most annoying voice: “Excuse me, could I get your Instagram?” “No.” Elias’s face flushed bright red as he rejected me. “I don’t have Instagram.” “Then let’s make out. I can see you have a mouth.” “…” Much later, when I finally did get his social media, I accidentally saw the contact name he had saved me under. “The Makeout Girl.” 8 Ezra seemed to notice I was spacing out. Dissatisfied, he bit down lightly on my collarbone. “Chloe, focus.” The boy’s back was broad and powerful. When I ran my fingers over it, I felt a thin, slick layer of sweat. Probably knowing I was most agreeable in bed, Ezra started murmuring endlessly in my ear. I was half-zoned out, only catching fragmented declarations of love. And: “Everything is my and Elias’s fault, but mostly Elias’s fault. Please don’t be mad at me.” Once you’re done being mad at him, you’re not allowed to be mad at me either. I eventually lost consciousness completely and didn’t wake up until the next morning. Ezra probably had morning classes. He left a message on my phone: [I left your favorite soup warming on the stove. Make sure you heat it up before you drink it.] He knew he messed up, he had classes, and he still rushed over here just to sleep with me. I rubbed my sore lower back and collapsed back into the pillows. Aside from Ezra’s messages, there were others. Elias had sent the most. At first, it was a string of apologies, saying he never should have done it, he just liked me way too much. Then, realizing he couldn’t reach Ezra either, it took zero brainpower for him to figure out exactly whose bed his brother was in. After sending a dozen texts cursing Ezra out, he pitifully asked me: [But honestly… is it really impossible for you to date both of us?] [I really, really like you…] [I can do literally everything Ezra does. Please, just give me a chance…] … Beneath Elias’s barrage of texts, there was one more message. It was from the hot dog guy. He had replied to my teasing text from last night: [Can’t do that. I don’t have any other skills. I only know how to grill hot dogs.] I could almost picture it. In the dark, under the streetlights. That guy, wearing a black surgical mask, standing next to his little cart, eyes half-lidded, casually typing out that reply. Or maybe he was judging me, thinking I was cheap and easy.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391609”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day before New Year’s Eve, Arthur Sterling walked downstairs fully dressed. I was putting up festive window decals. He walked over to me. “I won’t be home for the holidays. Will you be okay by yourself?” Before I could even ask why. He said, “She’s pregnant. The baby is mine. I need to be with her.” My hand trembled, and the red paper fluttered softly to the floor. “Why are you only telling me this now?” Watching him stand there in silence, I knew our marriage was over. I forced the words out: “Arthur… let’s get a divorce.” “Chloe, have I not treated you well? Why do you want a divorce?” 1 Even someone with the best temper and the most rational mind would break down upon hearing those words. I grabbed the heavy glass ashtray from the coffee table and hurled it at him. “Why?!” “Why?!” “Arthur Sterling, you’re sleeping with another woman, and you have the nerve to ask me why?!” “Don’t you realize how absurd you sound?!” Arthur didn’t dodge. Glass shattered everywhere, and a bruise instantly formed on his forehead. Still furious, I threw books, magazines… everything on the table at him. Arthur didn’t even flinch. He stood there, rigid and unmoving. Finally, I grabbed my favorite vase and smashed it. It held the flowers I had just picked from the garden that morning. Arthur had always been a cold, distant person. Before we got married, his apartment was decorated in sterile, cold tones. There was absolutely no warmth or life in it. Every week, I would buy fresh flowers to decorate our home, just to make it feel a little warmer. After we got married, I meticulously worked with designers to decorate this entire mansion. I handpicked every single piece of furniture and decor. This used to be the warmest place in the world. Our home. And now, it was a disaster zone, destroyed by my own hands. Arthur watched me quietly. His eyes held a strange, almost clinical detachment, like he was observing a madwoman. When I was finally too exhausted to throw anything else, I covered my face, crouched on the floor, and sobbed uncontrollably. Arthur walked over and stood in front of me. After a long time, he picked me up off the floor, cleared a spot on the sofa, and set me down. He crouched in front of me, a flicker of what looked like heartbreak in his eyes, and used his thumb to wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes. “Chloe, don’t do this… it breaks my heart.” 2 I saw my reflection in his eyes. Tear-streaked, blurry, and utterly pathetic. I froze for a second. How did it come to this? I wiped my cheeks, trying to compose myself. “Do you remember what you promised me?” “You said we would be together forever. That we would never leave each other, and grow old together.” But Arthur, we’ve only been married for three years, and you’ve already betrayed me. You betrayed our marriage. “How long have you been together?” Arthur quickly looked away, unable to meet my eyes. “Almost a year.” A year? They had known each other for that long? I dug my nails into my palms and offered a bitter smile. “Why tell me now? Why not just keep hiding it?” Arthur sat next to me in silence. He pulled out a lighter and lit a cigarette. The smoke blurred his sharp features. “I didn’t want to lie to you anymore.” I didn’t want to lie to you anymore. What a grand, hypocritical excuse. If he didn’t love me anymore, he could have just told me. We could have gotten a divorce. I’m not the type to cling to a dead relationship. But he chose to cheat on me while we were still married. “She’s in her early twenties. Young, cute. She’s not like you. When I buy her things or give her money, she doesn’t refuse. She’s clingy, and she loves to act spoiled.” As he spoke, a light seemed to spark in his eyes, only to dim when he looked back at me. “But Chloe, you don’t do any of those things. You make me feel so… detached.” “I’m your husband. I’m supposed to be the closest person to you in the world.” But Arthur, this is just who I am. I’ve always been independent and a bit aloof. My upbringing and my family dynamic forced me to be this way. I don’t know how to act spoiled, and I hate being a burden to anyone. Even with the people I’m closest to, I always try to keep things perfectly balanced. I had been trying so hard to change. To learn how to rely on him. But when I actually needed him… when I got into that car crash and called him from a hospital bed… Where was he? “Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we have sweet and sour ribs. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, it’s tomato and egg stir-fry. Honestly, I’m sick of it. I’m so tired of this monotonous, lukewarm life.” I didn’t understand. The table was always full of food. Those were the only two dishes I actually liked. Everything else was cooked specifically for him. Why was he fixating on those two dishes? “Chloe, you’re like a bowl of plain porridge. Tasteless, but a shame to throw away. But she’s different. She’s like a piece of candy. I willingly let myself drown in her sweetness.” A smile touched Arthur’s lips. It was indulgent, and it was sweet. “She’s so bold. She dragged me to an amusement park and immediately wanted to go into the haunted house. She stood there, hands on her hips, swearing she wasn’t scared. But once we were inside, she got so terrified she jumped into my arms and begged me to hold her.” “Her heart was beating so fast that day. Thump, thump, thump. She threw her arms around my neck, her face bright red, and kissed me. I should have pushed her away, but I didn’t…” “Stop it!” The pain was so intense I felt numb. I was completely breaking down. “Chloe…” “Arthur, I’m begging you. Please. Stop talking.” 3 The living room fell into a deathly silence. Arthur’s phone rang. He pulled it out, glanced at me, and answered it right in front of me without the slightest hesitation. A sweet, whiny female voice came through the speaker. “I’m hungry! When are you coming back?” “You’re hungry?” When Arthur looked over at me, I immediately stood up and started frantically searching the room. “Yeah! The baby and I are both starving!” “Wait for me. I’ll come feed you both.” My entire body was trembling with cold. I pressed my hands hard against my temples. What… what am I looking for? My phone. Yes, my phone. What if I miss an important work email? What if I miss an important call? “Be a good girl. I’ll be there soon.” “I love you, hubby! Mwah~” I tried desperately to block out the sounds around me. I wished I was deaf. But I wasn’t. Arthur’s relaxed, cheerful voice crashed into my ears like a tidal wave. It wasn’t until my nails drew blood from my palms that I finally managed to calm down a fraction. Arthur had ended the call at some point and walked up behind me. “She’s waiting for me. I need to go.” “I’ll explain everything to my mom. If you don’t want to go to the main estate tomorrow, just stay here.” He paused, then added, “Do you want me to call the housekeeper back to keep you company for the holidays?” “Actually, that’s probably not a good idea. Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. Everyone wants to be with their family.” Arthur just kept talking. So he knew. He knew tomorrow was New Year’s Eve. He knew the holidays were meant for family. So what was I? Was I just a complete stranger to him now? I grabbed the kettle and poured myself a glass of hot water. The warm liquid slid down my throat, chasing away half the freezing chill in my body. “Arthur, we’re getting a divorce.” By the front door, Arthur paused while putting on his shoes. “I promised I would treat you well for the rest of our lives, Chloe. If you want, you can always be Mrs. Sterling. Everything can stay exactly the way it was.” “And what about her?” “I’ll buy a villa and set her up outside. I won’t let her bother you.” 4 Arthur left. The only thing left in the trashed living room was me, entirely alone. Before he left, Arthur had walked over and wiped my tears. And with the very same lips that had kissed me thousands of times, he delivered the most cutting blow. “Chloe, be a good girl and behave. She won’t fight you for anything.” Numbly, I walked up the stairs and back to the bedroom. I stared at our wedding photo on the wall. The girl in the photo was smiling so brightly. She looked so happy. I turned and walked into the bathroom to wash my face. The woman in the mirror looked awful. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face stained with tears. I slowly raised my hand. Chloe Vance, you shouldn’t look like this. The cold water splashed against my face. I told myself I shouldn’t be sad. But after so many years together, how could I not be sad? I collapsed onto the bed, desperately wishing the last hour had been nothing but a nightmare. That I would just wake up. But the memories replayed in my mind, screaming that it was all real. My phone vibrated. It was Arthur’s mother. I didn’t answer. I just stared blankly at my laptop screen. A few minutes later, she called again. After a moment’s hesitation, I picked up. “Chloe, it’s New Year’s Eve. Make sure you and Arthur come over early tonight.” I gripped my phone, unsure of what to say. “Chloe?” “Did Arthur… did he not talk to you guys?” “What’s wrong? Did you two have a fight? That brat isn’t answering his phone.” “It’s nothing.” “As long as everything is okay. Just remember to come over early with Arthur.” 5 Some things are better said in person rather than over the phone. But before heading to the Sterling estate, I needed to make a stop at a print shop. The normally bustling streets were completely deserted because of the holidays. I checked several shops, but they were all closed. The biting winter wind whipped against me, and I pulled my coat tighter around myself. Just as I thought I wouldn’t be able to print the documents, I spotted a small shop still open. Suddenly, I thought, Maybe my luck isn’t completely terrible after all. The owner asked what I needed printed and if I required any help. I smiled politely and said no. She looked a bit surprised. She was probably wondering who prints divorce papers on New Year’s Eve. She quickly bound the documents and handed them to me. “Happy New Year,” she said. My hand froze as I paid her. She was the very first person to wish me a Happy New Year today. Not my family. Not even Arthur. My eyes suddenly burned, and I replied, “Happy New Year!” Stepping out of the shop, I tilted my head back and let out a long breath. I put the documents in my bag and called Arthur. “Are you going to the estate?” “He’s in the shower. It’s not a good time for him to take a call. Do you need something, Ms. Vance? I can pass a message.” It wasn’t Arthur who answered. It was his little mistress. Her tone was dripping with pure provocation. “Please tell Arthur that his mother wants him home.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391625”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The first Christmas after the world stopped spinning, Nathan showed up at our house like nothing had changed. His mother, a woman who had spent a decade trying to play matchmaker for us, leaned over the eggnog and nudged him. “Nathan, you have so many friends in the city. You should introduce Hailey to someone. She’s far too pretty to be single.” Nathan didn’t even look up from his phone, his lips curling into that familiar, arrogant smirk. “Sure. Tell me what you’re looking for, Hails. What’s the criteria?” Before I could answer, he finally met my eyes, his gaze heavy with a smugness that made my skin crawl. “But honestly? With me around, are you really going to find anyone else worth looking at?” The room went thick with an awkward, suffocating silence. Everyone in our circle knew the truth. I had spent five years orbiting Nathan like a lonely moon, waiting for a sign, a word, a single genuine look. He had taken that devotion and used it to build his own ego, never once reaching back to pull me into the light. I didn’t flinch. I just offered a small, cool smile. “That’s okay, Nathan,” I said, my voice steady. “I already have a boyfriend.” Because despite what he believed, no one stays waiting in the shadows forever. 01 Nathan caught me outside the guest bathroom, his arm barring my way like a physical claim. “Who is he?” His voice was raspy, stripped of its usual bravado. I looked up at him. From the living room, I could hear the muffled sounds of our parents laughing, the clink of silverware against china. Life was moving on just a few feet away, yet here we were, trapped in our old, toxic loop. I opened my mouth to answer, but Nathan let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Wait, Hailey. You don’t actually think I’m going to fall for that, do you?” He leaned against the hallway wall, his posture radiating a forced indifference. “Don’t use these pathetic little games to test me. I couldn’t care less if you’ve found some rebound.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. “I told you: if you chose Stanford, I would never be with you. You made your bed.” Nathan’s confidence was his greatest weapon—and his greatest delusion. He had been so sure that because he turned down his Ivy League dreams to stay local for Madison, I would follow him like a loyal dog. He was still convinced this was all a performance for his benefit. As he turned to walk away, a sudden wave of exhaustion hit me. I was tired of letting him win the scene. “Nathan.” He stopped, his shoulders tensing. “Is this me testing you?” I asked quietly. “Or are you just terrified?” He didn’t move. “Terrified that maybe, just maybe, you aren’t the center of the universe anymore. You’re right about one thing: we’re just neighbors. Who I date is none of your business. So do us both a favor—keep your distance. Don’t check in on me, and definitely don’t try to start conversations you don’t actually want to have.” I turned and walked into my bedroom, closing the door firmly. I didn’t see him pull a small, crushed velvet jewelry box out of his pocket, his knuckles white as he squeezed it until the hinges groaned. 02 Nathan and I were the “it” kids of the neighborhood. I spent ten years trailing behind him. He was the boy who would stand in front of me with a cold glare if anyone dared to bully me, and the boy who would stay up until 2:00 AM helping me map out a study plan when I was failing calculus. My love for him was an open secret. It grew from a childhood crush into a defining feature of my identity—unfiltered, unshielded, and completely unrequited. I remember a summer night after freshman year. The sky was a bruised purple, dripping with stars. I was sitting on the pegs of his bike, the wind whipping my hair, when his voice drifted back to me. “Hailey, you know I don’t deal well with people who can’t keep up. I’m going to Stanford. If you can get in, too… then maybe I’ll consider us being a real thing.” That was it. That was the carrot he dangled. I traded my novels and my sketches for prep books and extra credit. Stanford wasn’t just a university anymore; it was my ticket into Nathan’s heart. I thought if I just worked hard enough, I could finally stand beside him as an equal. I was too young to realize that real love doesn’t come with a minimum SAT score. Madison showed up on the first day of senior year. She was a scholarship student, quiet and ethereal, and she was assigned the desk next to Nathan’s. Nathan, who usually treated the world with practiced boredom, started bringing her lattes in the morning. He started cancelling our study sessions to help her with her essays. One Saturday, the three of us were supposed to go to the city to buy new textbooks. That morning, Nathan called. He said he and Madison had “stuff to do” and couldn’t make it. Two hours later, I saw them through the window of a boutique bookstore downtown, their heads bent close over a shared notebook. “Nathan, thank you for paying for these,” Madison murmured, her voice carrying in the quiet shop. “I hate being the charity case. I didn’t want anyone else to see me like this.” Nathan smiled, a soft, genuine expression I hadn’t seen in months. “It’s fine. Honestly, I’d rather be here anyway. Hailey makes a federal case out of every little thing she buys. It’s exhausting.” The world blurred as my eyes filled with tears. I turned to bolt, but as I reached the door, a heavy hand caught my wrist. Nathan was breathing hard, looking frantic, but his voice was still like iron. “Madison and I… it’s not what you think.” “Nathan, let go.” “We’re focused on our futures, Hailey. We don’t have time for distractions. Not everyone spends their whole day obsessing over ‘feelings’ and drama.” His words were a bucket of ice water. Distractions. Was that what I was? I realized then that in his eyes, my love wasn’t a gift. It was a nuisance. 03 After that day, I stopped asking him for help. I stopped waiting for him. I poured everything into my applications. I wanted to prove I wasn’t the “distraction” he painted me as. I wanted Stanford for me. On the day the results came out, I ran to his house, heart hammering. But when I opened the door, the living room was full of our classmates. They were throwing a surprise party for Madison’s eighteenth birthday. Nathan pulled me into the kitchen, his voice a low hiss. “Madison’s never had a real birthday party. I thought today was the perfect day to celebrate her win. I didn’t invite you because I knew you’d make it weird. You’re sensitive, Hailey. I was doing you a favor.” So, once again, it was my fault. If I felt hurt, I was “sensitive.” If I spoke up, I was “difficult.” Madison walked in then, holding a plate of cake, looking every bit the guest of honor. “Oh, Hailey! You’re here! Come in, make yourself at home. Don’t be a stranger.” The territorial subtext was deafening. When she left, Nathan looked at me. “By the way, when you fill out your final commitment forms, make sure you put down State.” “State?” I stared at him. “Your dad said your stats were high enough for Stanford. You were a lock.” Nathan cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. “Madison… her scores weren’t what she hoped for. She’s only getting a full ride at State. I can’t let her go there alone. She needs someone to look out for her.” It felt like a thousand needles piercing my chest. The “standard” he had set for me—the Ivy League requirement—had never existed for her. He would move mountains for her mediocrity while I had to be perfect just to be noticed. “And if I don’t?” I whispered. Nathan’s jaw set. “Then the deal is off. I’ll never be with you. The girl by my side will be Madison. She actually appreciates what I do for her.” He walked away, confident he had won. He thought he had me in a cage of my own making. I stood there for a long time, and then, I started to laugh. The tears came, but they weren’t for him. They were for the girl who had almost let him ruin her life. He knew exactly how Madison felt about him. He had been playing us both, keeping me as the backup plan while he chased the “damsel in distress.” He didn’t realize that I had finally learned the difference between a man and a shadow. When I submitted my commitment, I didn’t hesitate. I chose Stanford. 04 I spent the rest of the summer in a blur of productivity. I signed up for intensive French classes and prep courses, keeping my head down. Nathan was busy, too. His mom mentioned he was working double shifts at a local cafe, looking exhausted. He’d text me occasionally, asking about my “State paperwork.” I never replied. The day before I was set to fly to Palo Alto, Nathan showed up at my front door with a massive cardboard box. “Madison and I went shopping,” he said, stepping inside uninvited. “I got you some stuff for the dorms. LA is hot, and the bugs are no joke near the campus. Here’s some repellent, some light linens…” “I don’t need it, Nathan. Take it back.” I looked at him with a detachment that surprised even me. The heart-rot was finally being pruned away. “Still pouting?” He smiled, reaching out to pinch my cheek the way he used to. I flinched away. His hand hung in the air for a second before he pulled it back, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “I booked our flights for the day after tomorrow. I sent the info to your phone. Don’t be late. I have a surprise for you when we land.” He left, looking satisfied. He never got to give me that surprise. Because the next morning, I was already at 30,000 feet, heading north. While I was walking across the sun-drenched quad at Stanford with my new roommates, my phone started exploding. Ten missed calls. Twenty. Finally, I just blocked him. He messaged me through a mutual friend’s account: You’re really going to be like this? Fine, Hailey. Your loss. That night, I saw Madison’s post on my feed. [Photo: A delicate gold bracelet with a diamond charm.] Best graduation gift from the best boyfriend ever. It was the exact bracelet I had pointed out to Nathan two years ago. He had promised he’d work all summer to buy it for me. Now, it was on her wrist. I didn’t cry. I just blocked Madison, too. Anything that costs me my peace is too expensive. The girl who loved Nathan was dead. I wasn’t going to let him haunt the woman I was becoming. 05 The sound of fireworks outside snapped me back to the present. The confrontation in the hallway felt like a fever dream. I felt a sudden, sharp pang of longing—not for the past, but for the man who was waiting for me in the city. I pulled out my phone and texted Bennett: What are you doing? The reply came almost instantly: Wondering what you’re doing. A second later, another bubble popped up: I miss you, Hails. Like, actually hurts a little. Just like that, the weight Nathan had tried to press onto me evaporated. I remembered a post I’d shared with Bennett months ago: When someone asks ‘what are you doing,’ they’re usually just admitting they’re thinking about you. He remembered. He always remembered. Bennett’s love was a wildfire—direct, hot, and impossible to ignore. With him, there were no riddles. No “if you do this, I’ll love you.” He just said it. He showed up. He made me feel like I was the only person in the room, even when the room was full of people more “impressive” than me. That’s the thing about being chosen. It shouldn’t feel like a competition you finally won. It should feel like coming home. I stayed on FaceTime with him until the early hours of the morning, falling asleep to the sound of his breathing. 06 The fifth day of the holidays brought the one thing I wanted to avoid: the “Class of ’22” reunion dinner. I didn’t want to go. I had zero desire to see Nathan and Madison play-acting as the local king and queen. But my best friend Tessa practically dragged me out of the house. She was planning to finally corner her crush tonight and needed me as her emotional shield. When we walked into the private room at the bistro, most of the old crowd was already there. Nathan and Madison were center stage. Madison went to stand up when she saw me, but Nathan pulled her back down by the waist, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. It was a performance—a calculated display of “look how happy we are.” I looked away, finding a seat at the far end of the table. When the menus came, Nathan started ordering for the table. “We’ll do the seafood towers. Three of them. Madison’s been craving oysters.” Tessa frowned. “Hailey’s deathly allergic to shellfish, Nathan. You know that. She can’t even have the cross-contamination.” Nathan raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to mine. “What, so because Hailey won’t eat it, the rest of us have to suffer? Or is the Princess just going to storm out again because things aren’t going her way?” The table went quiet. I just smiled at the group. “It’s fine. Order whatever you like. I’m not that hungry anyway.” I wasn’t here for the food. I was here for Tessa. Nathan’s eyes darkened at my lack of a reaction. He wanted the old Hailey—the one who would have teared up or started a fight. The conversation shifted to college. “So, Nathan, I heard you’re already killing it in the CS department at State. Winning gold at the regional hackathons? Not bad for a freshman.” Nathan leaned back, soaking in the praise, recounting his “genius” moments while casting side-glances my way. I ignored him, checking my phone. Bennett hadn’t replied to my last text in two hours. Probably out with his own friends, I thought. I sent him a photo of the menu: Looks like I’m starving tonight. The seafood tower is out for blood. Send help!!! Tessa, ever the instigator, decided Nathan shouldn’t have the floor to himself. “So, Hails,” she said loudly. “You’re at Stanford now. Do you run into Bennett Ward often?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391644”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The night Carter Sterling spent a hundred million dollars at an auction to buy a pink diamond for his female apprentice, I was lying in a hospital bed. Because of my seventh accidental miscarriage, the doctor declared that I had permanently lost the ability to ever have children. I was two thousand dollars short for the surgical fees, so I had no choice but to go find Carter in the middle of the night. Instead, I overheard him talking to his apprentice. “Don’t worry, that blind woman will never have my child. If she gets pregnant, I’ll just kill it.” Ten years of delusions shattered in an instant. I resolutely sold my wedding ring—the only thing of value I possessed—paid for a hysterectomy, and walked away from him forever. When we met again, Carter saw a peacefully sleeping baby in my arms. He wept tears of joy, but his face remained stone-cold. “Only you would have the audacity to run away pregnant! But don’t think you can tie me down with a kid!” I smirked, offering him a sarcastic smile. “The kid isn’t even yours. What are you panicking for?” My savings had run dry a month ago. But I was still two thousand dollars short for the hysterectomy. After agonizing over it, I sent Carter a text. I didn’t receive a reply. It wasn’t until 10:30 PM that my phone screen finally lit up. My heart raced, and I quickly snatched up the phone. But it was just a news push notification on my screen. [Newly Crowned Master Painter Carter Sterling Spends $100 Million on Pink Diamond to Coax His Wife; A Display of Deep Affection That Envies All!] The woman standing next to Carter in the photo wasn’t me, his actual wife. It was his female apprentice, Chloe Hastings. The hundred-million-dollar pink diamond on Chloe’s finger sparkled brilliantly—so brilliantly that it made my eyes sting. Tears fell before I could stop them. Buddy, the guide dog who had been by my side for ten years, nudged me sympathetically. I patted his head, then slowly raised my hand to look at the fractional-carat diamond chip on my own ring finger. After staring at it for a long time, I opened a secondhand marketplace app like a woman possessed. Just as I was about to tap “List Item,” a text from Carter finally came through. He didn’t wire me money to dismiss me like he usually did. Instead, he told me to bring him some hangover soup. Tonight was his celebration party, but I wasn’t the one sharing his joy. Because he always felt I was unworthy. On the way there, I scrolled through his exclusive interview on my phone. “Mr. Sterling, as the first Master Painter in a decade to break auction records, what is your secret?” A rare trace of tenderness appeared in Carter’s light brown eyes. “I owe it all to these highly gifted eyes.” The world thought Carter was just a natural prodigy. They didn’t know that these light brown eyes, which suffered from total color blindness, were the ones I had given him. To someone with total color blindness, the world is only black, white, and gray—making reality look like a naturally formed ink wash painting. This abnormal vision actually aided his specific style of art. Because when I was a child, I saw the world the exact same way. Ten years ago, Carter was in a horrific car crash that left him comatose, his eyes pierced and blinded by shattered glass. To repay a debt, I hid it from everyone and donated my own eyes to him. But Carter’s grandfather saw right through it and knew those eyes were mine. To thank me, he forced Carter to marry me. I knew Carter hated me, and I never expected anything from it. But to my surprise, he actually agreed to the marriage. It took ten years for me to realize that he only married me to torture me. Half a year ago, the hospital informed me that someone had volunteered to donate their eyes to me. Just like I had done back then, the donor’s family demanded strict anonymity. While Carter was secluded in his studio working on his new collection, I secretly underwent the surgery. While he was taking his new masterpieces to the auction house, my vision was slowly recovering. I wanted to give him a surprise. I never expected him to give me a nightmare first. And now, I had to go beg him for a mere two thousand dollars to pay for my surgery. The reality of forever losing the right to be a mother, coupled with my crushing financial destitution, left me unable to breathe. I cursed myself viciously in my heart. Mia, are you really this pathetic?! Why won’t you wake up?! Before I knew it, I was standing outside the door to his VIP room. Just as I reached out to push the door open, I heard Carter’s tipsy, mocking laughter from inside. “Do you see now? Even without Mia, I can paint masterpieces that sell for a fortune!” My mother had been the nation’s top Master Painter. After she died, I was the only one who inherited her true techniques. But when Carter recovered his sight and demanded I teach him how to paint, I refused. Of course, that was just one of the many reasons he hated me. One of Carter’s friends laughed and asked, “Carter, when are you going to divorce that blind girl? You’ve been torturing her for ten years, aren’t you bored yet?” Carter lazily swirled the wine in his glass and chuckled softly. “I’ll drag it out until she’s old and her looks fade, then I’ll throw her away. Making her beg for death is much more entertaining, don’t you think?” The room erupted in roaring laughter. I pressed myself against the freezing wall outside the door, trembling violently. I let the bone-chilling cold seep into every fiber of my being. Someone else asked, “So when are you going to make things official with Chloe?” Chloe, who had been sitting obediently by his side, immediately blushed. She playfully buried her face in Carter’s chest, coyly fiddling with the pink diamond. “Oh, stop it. There are too many people fighting over the title of Mrs. Sterling. I just want to be Carter’s good little apprentice…” Carter gently stroked her hair and spoke in a tone I had never heard him use before. “Mia didn’t fight for the title. She stole it.” So that was how Carter saw it. Even though he had explicitly agreed to this marriage himself. I stood outside the room, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood. Inside, Chloe sounded aggrieved. “But Mia keeps getting pregnant with your child… She’s been trying so hard all these years…” Carter’s freezing voice pierced straight into my bones. “Don’t worry, that blind woman will never have my child.” “If she gets pregnant, I’ll kill it.” My breathing stopped. If she gets pregnant, I’ll kill it. So that was why… that was why I had “accidentally” miscarried seven times?! “Miss, aren’t you going in?” A waiter, seeing my deathly pale face, pushed the door open and gestured for me to enter. In an instant, every pair of eyes in the room locked onto me. Carter glanced at me and said coldly, “Are your legs broken, or are you dead? Is standing at the door eavesdropping fun for you?” I took a deep breath, brought the hangover soup over to him, and carefully poured it into a bowl. A ten-year habit is hard to break. My hands, acting entirely on their own, placed the soup I desperately wanted to throw in his face gently in front of him. Like a perfectly domesticated dog. The room was silent for a moment. Then, piercing laughter erupted, completely drowning me out. I didn’t get angry. I just crouched in front of Carter, my tone pleading. “I saw a bag I really like. It costs two thousand dollars…” Carter had Chloe take a sip of the hangover soup. She immediately stuck out her tongue and grimaced. “Ew, what did you put in this? Are you trying to poison me, sister…?” Under Carter’s permissive gaze, Chloe giggled and dumped the entire bowl of steaming hot soup directly over my head. “Sister, something this gross… you should just drink it yourself…” The hot liquid cascaded down my head and seeped into my eyes, burning with a fiery pain. But this hangover soup was made exactly to Carter’s specific tastes. I had made it for ten years. How could I have gotten it wrong? Hearing my scream of pain, Buddy barked frantically at the door, anxious and terrified. Carter frowned, kicked me away, and turned to tenderly blow on Chloe’s lips. They were so close their lips were practically touching. I knew he was being intimate with Chloe specifically to humiliate me. In the past, my heart would have ached, but after years of accumulated torment, it had grown completely numb. Taking advantage of the moment, Chloe playfully hit Carter’s chest. “Carter, Mia is watching…” Someone muttered from the side, “Watching? Does that blind girl even have the equipment for that?” The laughter erupted again. Chloe smiled triumphantly, wrapped her arms around Carter’s neck, and kissed him. Amidst the cheering crowd, Carter didn’t push her away. After the passionate kiss ended, Carter pulled out his phone, opened Zelle, and shot me a mocking look. “A two-thousand-dollar bag? You?” A harsh notification sound pinged from my phone. Zelle transfer received: $5. The second the notification ended, Chloe suddenly grabbed the entire ice bucket off the table and dumped it over my head! Ice cubes crashed against my skull and clattered onto the floor. The metal bucket slammed down over my head like a glacier. My vision went dark, and I collapsed uncontrollably to the floor. “That’s enough! Who told you to do that?!” Carter’s furious voice echoed through the room. But Chloe just held up her slightly scraped hand, looking pitiful. “It hurt, so my hand slipped…” Before I lost consciousness, the cynical voices of Carter’s friends drifted into my ears. “Mia, can you stop playing the fragile victim?” “Chloe was just playing a joke with you, and you’re trying to extort her?” “Carter, look at this blind girl. The acting is getting a bit pathetic…” With the crowd egging him on, Carter backed himself into a corner and said coldly: “Mia, are you really going to just lie there?” “Fine! Then lie there! Keep lying there! If you die here today, no one will give a damn!” With that, he and his entourage swaggered out of the room. Before leaving, he locked the door securely and ordered that no one was allowed to open it. In the absolute darkness, my consciousness grew heavier and heavier. Everything felt like it was reverting to the days when I was blind. After giving my eyes to Carter, my health had severely deteriorated. I was especially susceptible to the cold. Carter actually knew this, because years ago, he was the one who had rescued me from an ice cellar. The endless darkness wrapped around me, piercing me like a thousand blades. That heart, which had once beaten so vibrantly and passionately, completely shattered under the weight of countless wounds. Bang! Something smashed open, jolting me awake. As my vision focused, I realized the room door had finally been battered open by Buddy. He rushed over, frantic and terrified, circling me and relentlessly licking my hand, only to find me completely unresponsive. Buddy could only whimper low in his throat, desperately trying to wake me. I struggled to prop myself up. I saw Buddy’s forehead, a bloody, mangled mess, and the blood on his paws. A trail of blood led all the way back to the heavy wooden door. The tears I had been holding back finally broke free. I hugged a terrified Buddy, sitting on the floor and crying until my throat was raw. At that moment, a Zelle notification popped up. It was from Carter, totaling exactly two thousand dollars. He had left a sarcastic note: [For your medical bills.] I didn’t tap to accept it. I didn’t need it anymore. I would never need it again. It was snowing heavily outside. My clothes were completely soaked with hangover soup and ice water, hanging off me stiffly. They felt like tiny needles stabbing into my skin. But I didn’t feel cold, because the agonizing pain radiating from my lower abdomen made it nearly impossible to walk. I don’t know how much time passed before I slowly pushed open the door of a pawnshop. The moment I walked in, the security guard at the door eyed me warily and raised his stun baton. “What do you think you’re doing here?!” Buddy bared his teeth at him. But when the owner saw the diamond ring I held up on my ring finger, he immediately smiled and invited me inside. After getting the cash, I rushed straight to the hospital for the hysterectomy, and then I booked a flight. During my entire week in the hospital, Carter never sent me a single message. I knew he was waiting for me to apologize. Because for the past ten years, no matter what happened, I was always the one to initiate peace. Carter seemed absolutely convinced that I couldn’t live without him. I wasn’t discharged until half a month later. When I returned to the house, everything was exactly as it had been the day I left. Which meant Carter hadn’t been home in two weeks either. I opened Chloe’s Instagram. They had spent the last two weeks escaping the winter chill in the Bahamas, and had just returned today. The photos showed them having romantic dinners, swimming together, whispering sweet nothings… Every single photo depicted the life I had once dreamed of having. Right then, Chloe sent me a text. [Mia, why won’t you just give up? The one who isn’t loved is the actual third wheel.] [Carter treats you like garbage, why do you refuse to divorce him?] [I guess it’s true. Your mother was a homewrecker, and the bastard child of a homewrecker is still just a homewrecker. You’re pathetic!] The screen illuminated my deathly pale face as I heavily typed back three words: [She wasn’t.] Before I could send anything else, Chloe sent me a live location pin. I didn’t hesitate. I headed straight to the nightclub where she was. Once I spotted my target, I marched up to her, grabbed her by the hair, and slapped her hard across the face. “Apologize! Apologize to my mother right now!” Chloe was completely stunned by my swift, fluid attack. “There are so many people here… how… how did you find me?!” It took her three seconds to process what was happening, and then she shrieked and cursed. “You blind bitch, you can see?!” “You want me to apologize? What a joke! Your mother was a homewrecker! A filthy homewrecker everyone despised! The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!” I didn’t give her a chance to say another word. Just as I raised my hand again, several men rushed at me like maniacs. But I had backup. Buddy lunged, sinking his teeth into one of the men’s arms, tearing violently! Buddy was fierce and brave. He took down one man, then turned to attack the next. Using his small body, he physically blocked the attackers from reaching me. I grabbed Chloe by the collar, enunciating every word. “I will say it one last time. Apologize to my mother!” Chloe was pale with terror, but she stubbornly refused to back down. “A slut is a slut! What are you arguing about?!” “Your mother seduced Carter’s father! She killed his mother! Do you really have no idea?!” “What? Are we not allowed to talk about how your homewrecker mother destroyed Carter’s family?!” My breathing grew ragged. I slowly picked up a glass bottle, smashed it against a table, and pointed the jagged edge at Chloe, my face devoid of emotion. “I’ll say it one last time. Apologize to my mother, or I swear I’ll—” Before I could finish, a familiar, roaring voice exploded in my ear. “Mia, touch her and see what happens!” Buddy let out a sharp howl of pain. Carter struck him brutally with a stun baton. But Buddy didn’t even try to bite Carter back. Buddy knew I loved him, so he didn’t dare hurt him. He could only lie helplessly on the floor, whimpering for me to save him. I forgot all about Chloe, instantly scrambling up and throwing myself toward Buddy. But before I could reach him, a massive force grabbed me and yanked me back. Smack! A brutal slap landed on my left cheek. The sting was fiery. My ears rang violently. I could see Carter’s lips moving in front of me, but I couldn’t hear a word he was saying. Smack! Before I could recover, Carter struck me again, even harder. The massive momentum threw me toward the wall. My forehead slammed against the brick with a sickening thud. Blood immediately began streaming down the side of my face. After a moment of dizzying vertigo, his ethereal voice finally broke through the ringing. “Mia, apologize to Chloe.” He pulled a tearful, weeping Chloe over to me, his voice terrifyingly cold. “Get on your knees! Apologize to Chloe!” This was the first time Carter had ever hit me. For the past ten years, no matter how much he mentally tortured me, he never laid a hand on me. Because the Sterling family had strict rules: men were forbidden from hitting their wives. But today, he broke that rule for Chloe.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391661”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

At our college reunion, my ex-boyfriend wrapped his arm around his new fiancée and proudly announced their engagement. I snapped a picture and sent it to his mother with the caption: “They look perfect together. Congratulations on getting exactly what you wanted.” Just as I was about to hit send, a hand clamped down on my wrist like a vice. “Oh? Still keeping in touch with my mother?” he sneered, his eyes dark and menacing. “What, the money wasn’t enough?” The room went dead silent. A terrifying, heavy silence. I looked up at him, my face completely pale. The music had stopped. I had no idea when. And I was suddenly the center of everyone’s attention. 1 Everyone in our circle knew I had abandoned Julian Sterling for money. During the year he loved me the most, I took a $2 million check from his mother, Evelyn, and ruthlessly walked out of his life. Furious at his mother’s interference, Julian went on a hunger strike, starving himself until he was barely recognizable. His fraternity brothers couldn’t stand watching him slowly die. Swallowing their intense disgust for me, they came to me, one by one, begging me to go see him. I refused every single one of them. Eventually, when he was clinging to life by a thread, his mother called me in “desperation,” begging me to act as a “mediator.” When I finally showed up in his hospital room, he locked his arms around me and refused to let go. He was nothing but skin and bones, but his grip was so tight it felt like he was trying to crush my ribs. “Mia, you came. You still love me, don’t you? I knew it—” The sheer, overwhelming joy in his voice was impossible to hide. I coldly pushed him away. I played an audio recording for him, and then showed him a text message. The audio was a recording of me negotiating with his mother, demanding $300,000 just to come see him. The text message was the bank notification confirming the $300,000 deposit. His eyes went wide, staring at me blankly. When his brain finally processed what he was seeing, he violently shoved me away. He pushed so hard he threw himself off the hospital bed, collapsing onto the floor and coughing until he was gasping for air. “Mia Harrison, get the fuck out of my sight!” He lay pathetically on the floor, gritting his teeth, spitting out every single word with venomous hatred. I gave him exactly what he wanted. I walked out clean and fast, never once looking back. I don’t know who leaked the story, but it spread like wildfire. From that day on, I became the ultimate punchline in the city’s high society. Those ‘in the know’ constantly whispered about how my love for money was only matched by my absolute ruthlessness. Others claimed I never loved Julian to begin with; that I was only ever with him for his trust fund. No one cared about the actual truth. Once Julian recovered, he immediately entered into a strategic business alliance, getting engaged to Chloe Sinclair, the cherished daughter of the CEO of Daray Group. I received no fewer than ten invitations to their engagement party. They were all sent by his frat brothers. Honoring my “agreement” with his mother, I had completely vanished from his life. But I knew exactly what he had been up to over the years. I knew he and Chloe had gone to study in the US together, practically living together. I knew he finished a grueling joint JD/MBA program at Harvard and the Kennedy School in just two years. I knew that the moment he returned to his family’s company, he successfully negotiated several impossible contracts, forcing the old-guard executives who doubted him to submit completely. I knew that even though he and Chloe hadn’t officially tied the knot, they already called each other’s parents “Mom and Dad.” It wasn’t because I was stalking him. It was because his frat brothers were constantly tripping over themselves to give me unsolicited updates. They say a good ex should be like a dead ex—silent and invisible. But they loved dragging my ‘corpse’ out to beat it. It was as if proving how incredibly successful Julian had become simultaneously proved how monumentally stupid I was. Tonight was our college reunion. It was the first time I’d seen Julian since we broke up three years ago. Tomorrow, my life was going to completely change. From now on, he would remain in the clouds, enjoying his immense wealth and power. And I would return to the dirt, enduring the harsh reality of a normal life. Before coming here, I called his mother and laid out my terms. “You can go. But remember what you are not allowed to say, and what you are not allowed to do.” That was her exact quote. I agreed. I was technically here as the plus-one of an old classmate, Lucas Vance. But my real goal was to corner an old friend who specialized in nephrology and verify some medical records. There were certain things I desperately needed to understand before I could finally let the past go. I anticipated Julian’s humiliation and cold stares. I anticipated the bullying and mockery from our former classmates. But the one thing I didn’t anticipate was Julian turning this reunion into a pre-wedding celebration. As the center of attention, he and Chloe effortlessly navigated the room, playing drinking games and showing off their perfect relationship. The atmosphere was electric. No one was stupid enough to bring up the past. I managed to pull the doctor aside and finally got the answers I needed. Because Lucas was currently trapped in a conversation across the room, I had to wait for him. I never imagined that in the ten seconds it took me to snap a photo and type a text, Julian would materialize out of thin air right in front of me. Dragging me into the blinding spotlight for everyone to see. 2 “So what if it was enough? So what if it wasn’t?” I shot Julian a provocative, challenging glare. “Is CEO Sterling offering to pay the difference?” “Mia Harrison. Three years later, and you’re still exactly the same cheap trash you always were!” He glared down at me, his beautiful, dark eyes radiating a freezing, lethal chill. His words hit me like a physical blow, a sharp blade twisting violently in my gut. I studied him through the hazy, flickering club lights. He used to be my anchor, a brilliant, solid light in a chaotic world. Now, dressed in a flawless bespoke suit, he was just as striking as ever, but his eyes were like a bottomless abyss. When he looked at me, there wasn’t a single trace of the deep, tender affection he used to have. I yanked my wrist hard, forcing him to step slightly closer to maintain his grip. “Getting physical with another woman right in front of your fiancée… tell me, who’s the cheap one here?” I fired back with the same sharp banter we used to use. Except, back then, we were whispering flirtatious secrets. Now, we were just stabbing each other. Julian seemed to snap out of a trance. He violently shoved my hand away, grabbed a wet wipe from the table, and began scrubbing his hand obsessively. The insult was glaringly obvious. I had zero desire to stay any longer. I made eye contact with Lucas, stood up, and prepared to walk out. But Julian stepped into my path, completely blocking me. “Chloe, come here. There’s someone you need to meet.” He dropped the hostility and waved Chloe over. “Julian, is there something special about this girl?” Chloe took quick, delicate steps over to him, intimately wrapping her arms around his and leaning against him softly. She looked exactly as her reputation suggested—sweet, adorable, a girl who had clearly been pampered and protected her entire life. “She’s very special.” Julian spoke to Chloe, but his eyes were locked dead onto me. “She’s the ex-girlfriend who dumped me for two million dollars. Mia Harrison.” He didn’t yell, but his voice was loud enough for the entire room to hear. The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. A massive, suffocating wave of humiliation crashed over me. I kept my face perfectly neutral, silently hiding my trembling hands behind my back. Because tonight, I could hurt, and I could laugh, but I absolutely could not show a single crack of vulnerability. “Is two million a lot? This jewelry set Julian bought me cost ten million.” Chloe’s perfectly manicured fingers lightly brushed the blindingly brilliant diamond necklace resting against her collarbone. Matching diamond earrings sparkled from her delicate earlobes. “Ten million?! Eight figures?!” “She’s basically wearing a mansion around her neck!” A chorus of shocked gasps echoed through the crowd. Followed closely by a rising tide of mockery and sneers. Mocking me for throwing away a gorgeous, billionaire boyfriend for a measly two million dollars. CRACK— Somewhere in the crowd, someone crushed a beer can. The sharp noise startled me, and I turned my head. Lucas was casually turning a crushed, mangled beer can in his hands, a dark, unreadable half-smile playing on his lips. I gave him a subtle shake of my head, signaling him to stay out of it. But Julian suddenly let out a low, dark chuckle. He pulled a massive stack of hundred-dollar bills from his jacket pocket and casually tossed them into the air above the booth. “Mia, I have more money than God.” “But you… aren’t… worth… a dime.” The bills fluttered down like green rain, landing on my face, my shoulders. And scattering across the floor at my feet. “You have such a wonderful boyfriend, sweetie. Make sure you hold onto him tight.” I forced a brilliant, unbothered smile through the barrage of judging eyes. “Obviously.” Chloe looked up at Julian adoringly. Her eyes met his, which were filled with absolute, overwhelming affection. “Wow, they are so perfect for each other!” “It’s a crime if they don’t kiss right now!” Someone started the chant, and the calls for a “Kiss!” grew louder and louder. Julian suddenly wrapped his arm around Chloe’s waist, pulled her down onto the sofa, leaned over, and kissed her deeply. The energy in the room instantly exploded. They were passionately making out under the strobe lights, right in front of me. The crowd was screaming and cheering, but all I could hear was a deafening, agonizing silence. 3 I threw up in the bathroom until I thought my organs were going to come out. When I finally walked out, the first thing I saw was a tall, imposing silhouette standing in the dim hallway. The strobe lights from a nearby open door flashed across his face, revealing a storm of suppressed rage. It was Julian. My body reacted before my brain did. I turned on my heel and started power-walking in the opposite direction. I was fast, but Julian was faster. The second my foot hit the floor, he grabbed me roughly by the shoulder. “Running away the second you see me? Feeling guilty?” He gripped my shoulder with terrifying strength; it actually hurt. I tried to twist out of his grasp, but it was useless. “Guilty of what?” I laughed, my voice raw and hoarse. “I just don’t think we have anything to catch up on.” “Mia, you’ve been parading yourself in front of me all night, and now you want to play coy? A bit late for that, don’t you think?” His voice was terrifyingly cold. “What do you mean, ‘parading’ in front of you? Just because we broke up, I’m suddenly banned from attending my own college reunion?” I straightened my spine, turned around, and forcefully slapped his hand away. “If that’s the case, why were you hiding in the bathroom throwing up?” He reached out and grabbed my chin. “Are you carrying some other guy’s bastard, or did my presence just make you sick?” The memory of him kissing Chloe flashed in my mind, and my stomach violently lurched again. Desperate not to break character, I gritted my teeth and fought the nausea down. “You barely ate anything, but you threw up quite a bit,” he observed slowly, noting my silence. His words stung, making my eyes burn. “Julian, we haven’t meant anything to each other for years. What exactly do you want from me?!” I shoved him hard, but he just grabbed both my wrists and pinned them against the wall above my head. “That’s exactly what I want to ask you.” He leaned in close. “Since you disappeared so perfectly, why the hell did you show up tonight?” The absolute disgust and hatred in his eyes were completely undisguised. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I let out a sharp, sudden laugh. “What answer are you looking for? That I can’t get over you and want you back? Or that I deeply regret it and I’m here to beg for your forgiveness?” He didn’t say a word. He was probably actually waiting for a reason. “The real reason is—” “She came as my plus-one.” Before I could finish, a familiar, mocking voice interrupted me. A few feet away, Lucas was leaning casually against the corner of the wall, his hands buried deep in his pockets. I had no idea how long he had been standing there. “Bro code, Julian. You’re crossing a major line right now.” He added the comment with total, infuriating calm. “What… what does that mean?” Julian’s voice suddenly faltered. “It means Mia is my girlfriend now.” “I am a year older than you, after all. What, you’re allowed to have a fiancée, but I’m not allowed to have a girlfriend?” Lucas casually began rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. The message was clear: if Julian didn’t let me go right now, Lucas was going to make him. “Are you two… actually together?” Julian’s gaze snapped back to me. Even in the dim light, his stare felt heavy and piercing. “Do you need us to make out right now to prove it?” I asked, lowering my eyes and sneering. “Do whatever you want…” Julian released my wrists, turned, and walked away. Lucas let out a low whistle, a sly, victorious smirk spreading across his face. My entire defensive facade completely collapsed. I slumped against the wall, drained of all energy, and closed my eyes. “I told you not to come. Now look at you. You brought this entirely on yourself.” Lucas grumbled, his tone laced with exasperation. I opened my eyes and looked at him. “There are some things you just have to do yourself.” When he found out I needed to speak to our doctor classmate, he offered to ask on my behalf, but I refused. Because I needed to hear the truth with my own ears. “But you can’t fake your feelings. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to anyone else.” Lucas walked over, planted one hand on the wall next to my head, and looked down at me. “Mia, I waited for you for seven years, and you didn’t even look at me twice.” “Just now, he was publicly humiliating you, and when I wanted to punch him, you wouldn’t even let me.” “Is he really that incredible? You’ve been broken up for three years, and you’re still hung up on him?” He was saying all these mocking, sarcastic things, but his voice was overflowing with undeniable heartbreak. I reached out, wrapped my arms around his waist, and buried my face in his chest. His entire body went completely rigid. “Lucas, sometimes protecting someone has absolutely nothing to do with love. And in real life, you don’t get ‘do-overs’.” “When he was begging to see me years ago, I refused. So obviously, me showing up today was going to piss him off.” “I accepted his insults because I was the one who needed something tonight.” I patiently explained it to him. “Did you get the answers you were looking for?” Lucas sighed. I nodded slightly. “Then let’s go.” He gently ruffled my hair. “I’ll go pull the car around. Meet me at the entrance.” “Okay.” I quietly let go of him. Just outside our field of vision, a shadow silently slipped away… 4 The drive back to my apartment was completely silent. Lucas didn’t speak, and I had absolutely zero desire to start a conversation. “Don’t forget your promise. I’m driving you tomorrow.” Just as I was about to open the door, he suddenly hit the central locking system. I wanted to argue, but the intense, stubborn look in his eyes made me change my mind. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.” I offered him a reassuring smile and gave him an “OK” sign. He finally unlocked the doors. As Lucas’s car sped away into the night, I stood on the sidewalk, lost in thought. He and Julian used to be best friends. They grew up together; they were thick as thieves. Before Julian and I started dating, Lucas had publicly handed me a love letter. Even after I rejected him, he confidently declared that he “wouldn’t give up until the very end.” When Julian and I got together, Lucas started dating too. He went through girlfriends constantly, but none of them ever lasted. I always thought his interest in me was just a passing phase. But slowly, he began to distance himself from Julian and me, eventually becoming completely estranged from his former best friend. I genuinely believed I would never interact with him again for the rest of my life. But when my family fell apart, he was the one who spent countless agonizing days and nights sitting with me in the hospital. He even willingly acted as my smokescreen, successfully convincing Evelyn to drop her guard around me. Aside from my parents, I have two major regrets in my life. One is betraying Julian, and the other is being entirely unable to return Lucas’s love… The winter night wind began to pick up, biting into my exposed skin like icy needles. I pulled my scarf up over my nose and mouth and turned toward my apartment building. A short distance away, a car’s hazard lights flashed twice. Illuminated by the streetlamp, I recognized the man in the driver’s seat. It was Benjamin, Evelyn’s most trusted driver and enforcer. I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. They really don’t let anything go. I walked briskly over to the car, pulled open the passenger door, and slid in. “Can I help you?” “Ms. Harrison, please pack your things immediately. We are leaving tonight.” His voice was as deep and unyielding as always. “Wasn’t my train ticket booked for 6:00 AM tomorrow?” I turned to look at him. “Can Mrs. Sterling really not wait one more night?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he placed a phone on the center console. It was an active call, on speakerphone. “Does Ms. Harrison have a problem with that?” Chloe’s voice drifted from the speaker. She sounded arrogant and domineering, a complete 180 from the elegant, perfectly behaved girl she played during the day. “I wouldn’t dare.” I frowned and let out a soft laugh. “I’m just curious if this is Mrs. Sterling’s order, or Ms. Sinclair’s?” “Is there a difference?” She scoffed. “Regardless of whose order it is, Ms. Harrison, you just need to understand one thing: Julian’s mother won’t have peace of mind until you’re gone.” She paused. “And neither will I.” Remembering the shadow I saw disappearing at the KTV, I laughed out loud. We had just crossed paths, and she was already setting up defenses against me. And me? What right did I even have to be considered a threat? “I’ll leave right now.” I was too exhausted to argue. I got out and headed upstairs. My bags were already mostly packed. I just needed to grab a few daily essentials. Once I was done, I zipped up my suitcase and took one last look around. My parents bought this apartment. We lived here for over twenty years. Every corner was filled with memories of our family. But now, everything was different. Even the deed to the apartment was no longer in our name. I placed the keys on the shoe cabinet in the entryway, locked the door, and carried my suitcase downstairs. As the car merged onto the highway, I pulled out my phone to send a quick goodbye message to the new owners. My eyes caught the unsent photo and text from earlier in the evening. The impulse to antagonize Evelyn had completely evaporated. I put my phone away and stared out the window, silently saying goodbye to the dazzling city lights. The city lights illuminated the pitch-black sky, illuminating the towering skyscrapers and blinding neon signs. This city held millions of lonely souls. It held millions of stories of joy, anger, sorrow, and tragedy. But there was no longer a place in it for me… 5 The further we drove, the more remote the surroundings became. It wasn’t until I saw the familiar, imposing gates of an estate that I realized Benjamin had driven me straight to the Sterling mansion. “Madam wanted to say a proper goodbye to you, Ms. Harrison.” Benjamin parked the car and politely opened my door. “Is that really necessary?” I didn’t move an inch. I could count on one hand the number of times I had been here, and every single visit was unforgettable. I had zero desire to step foot inside again. “I’m just following orders.” He looked at me intently. “I hope Ms. Harrison won’t make this difficult for me.” I sat in the car, locked in a standoff with him. The freezing winter wind quickly stripped away the residual heat in the cabin, leaving me shivering. “The Young Master hasn’t lived here in a very long time,” he added quietly after a long silence. Only then did I finally step out of the car. Walking straight into the grand estate, I found Evelyn sitting in the opulent receiving room, watching the financial news. She was nearly fifty, but her skin was still flawless and pale. Under the brilliant light of the crystal chandelier, she practically glowed. “Here is your ID. Benjamin will escort you to your train.” Once I sat down across from her, she muted the TV and slid a National ID card across the table. The photo on the card was of a girl who looked vaguely similar to me. “Mrs. Sterling, you’ve certainly gone to great lengths to erase my existence.” I smiled. “And my actual ID? When do I get that back?” “After Julian and Chloe are officially married.” She slid a brand-new smartphone across the table toward me. “Until then, I expect Ms. Harrison to remember her place.” I instantly understood what she was doing: she was confiscating my phone. My throat suddenly felt tight. Holding my passport and ID hostage wasn’t enough; now she wanted to sever all my personal connections? “And if I refuse?” I pressed my hand against the pocket of my coat, gripping the phone inside. Julian had given me this phone five years ago. It was a matching couple’s set. After using it for so long, it was glitchy and slow. But because it held so many memories, I could never bring myself to replace it. I panicked if I even scratched the screen… “I will not tolerate anyone hovering around my chosen daughter-in-law’s future husband.” She pushed the new phone closer to me. “Ms. Harrison, do not force my hand.” That single sentence made the power dynamic and her absolute resolve crystal clear. Knowing I had no other choice, I painfully pulled my phone out of my pocket and placed it on the table. “Benjamin, take care of it,” she ordered. Benjamin picked up the phone, popped out the SIM tray, snapped the SIM card in half, and then, with his bare hands, violently bent the phone until the screen shattered and the chassis snapped. I watched, helpless, as the phone was reduced to a mangled piece of garbage. “Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Harrison.” Evelyn nodded, satisfied. “If you’re thanking me for being docile and obedient these past three years, I accept.” My gaze drifted over the destroyed phone. “If you’re thanking me for my inability to fight back tonight, save your breath.” “Life is long. You’re still young, Ms. Harrison. You need to learn how to look forward.” She lifted her chin and ordered Benjamin, “It’s late. Take Ms. Harrison to the station.” “Yes, Ma’am,” Benjamin replied. I stood up in silence, keeping my head down as I walked toward the door. Benjamin hurried past me and shoved the new phone into my hand. I took it mechanically. “Mia Harrison—” Just as Benjamin reached for the door handle, Evelyn spoke again. I turned around like a lifeless marionette. “Live a good life. No one wants to compete with a ghost.” She stood with her arms crossed, projecting absolute, untouchable authority. I let out a harsh, silent laugh. For years, she had treated me like a highly dangerous thief, guarding against me at every turn. And even right before exiling me, she destroyed my phone to guarantee I could never contact Julian again. But Julian was an incredibly proud man. After I had humiliated and hurt him so many times, there was absolutely zero chance he would ever come back to me. The bitter irony was that after doing so many horrific, unforgivable things, she still had the audacity to fake concern and wish me a long life… “Understood.” I replied coldly, brushing past Benjamin to pull the door open. The moment the door swung open, I froze in my tracks. Julian was standing right there in the hallway. He stood perfectly straight, his breathing even. But his dark eyes were burning with a terrifying, contained inferno. 6 “Julian, what are you doing here?” Evelyn couldn’t hide the absolute shock in her voice. “I missed home, so I came back. Isn’t that what you always tell me to do, Mother?” “But now that I’m here, you seem incredibly surprised—” The corner of his mouth twitched upward. It looked like a smile, but the emotion behind it was ice-cold. “Is it that I’m no longer welcome in this house? Or is my mother busy orchestrating another one of her shady, back-alley deals?” Every sentence included the word “Mother,” but every single word was coated in venom. I listened, my brow furrowing deeply. Even when the old Julian’s relationship with his mother was incredibly strained, he still called her “Mom.” Now he couldn’t even be bothered to use the casual term, yet he happily called Chloe’s parents “Mom and Dad.” What the hell else had happened over these last few years…? “Madam—!” Benjamin suddenly pushed past me, rushing frantically into the room. My train of thought abruptly derailed, and I spun around in confusion. Evelyn was collapsed rigidly on the mahogany sofa, hyperventilating. Her normally composed, elegant face was an alarming shade of purple. A sudden spike of panic hit me. Because with Benjamin gone, the space around me felt instantly, terrifyingly suffocating. I could even smell the faint, lingering scent of alcohol radiating from Julian. For me, this proximity was incredibly dangerous. If I were anywhere else, I would have just embraced the chaos and fought back. But here, in the Sterling mansion, right in front of Evelyn, I couldn’t just laugh it off or scream at him. It would only make me look like a cheap, pathetic clown. I casually took two steps to the side, trying to put distance between myself and Julian. But he closed the gap instantly, wrapping his arm possessively around my waist and physically dragging me back toward his mother. His arm felt like a literal band of iron. I tried to anchor myself to the floor, but I couldn’t match his strength. I was forced to let him drag me forward. “It’s so late, and my wonderful mother is still hosting guests. You must be exhausted.” Julian forcefully shoved me down onto the sofa next to her. “What kind of business deal were you two finalizing just now? Let me in on it.” “Benjamin, escort Ms. Harrison out.” Evelyn managed to catch her breath, but her entire aura was radiating a dark, lethal fury. I immediately stood up to comply. But Julian forced me right back down. “I am the majority shareholder of the Sterling Corporation now. Mother, don’t you think you’re being a bit disrespectful to me?” He casually adjusted his expensive watch. He looked relaxed, but every word was a heavily veiled threat. With Evelyn glaring at me like a predator, and Julian aggressively backing me into a corner… I clutched the cold, unfamiliar phone in my hand, caught completely in the middle. After three years, I had absolutely zero interest in getting involved in their toxic family drama. I wanted to walk away, but my only ID was a fake. Without Benjamin’s help, even if I knew where the train station was, I’d never pass the facial recognition security gates. As the three of us remained locked in a tense standoff, Evelyn spoke again. “Didn’t you want to know what happened three years ago? Let her leave, and I’ll tell you.” “God only knows what kind of bullshit lies you’ll invent. Compared to you, I’d much rather hear it directly from her.” Julian’s tone was incredibly flat. Evelyn scoffed. “You can demand to hear it from her, but that depends on whether she actually wants to tell you.” Suddenly, all eyes in the room were locked onto me. “I have no bizarre fetish for reminiscing with my ex-boyfriend.” The corners of my mouth curled into a faint smile. “I’m terrified my boyfriend, Lucas, might get jealous.” Julian violently kicked the heavy mahogany coffee table, sending it crashing to the floor. His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. The veins in his neck were bulging, making him look like a storm cloud crackling with destructive lightning. I knew he must be absolutely furious. But I felt zero sense of accomplishment. As his former lover, I knew exactly where to slide the knife to inflict maximum pain. When we were together, I never, ever imagined a day where I would use my intimate knowledge of him as a weapon to destroy him. But over the last three years, I had taken every opportunity to brutally, relentlessly shatter his heart… “Let’s go.” I stood up and signaled to Benjamin. He looked nervously at Evelyn. Evelyn gave a slow, heavy nod. As we walked toward the door, Benjamin kept looking back over his shoulder, clearly terrified of leaving Evelyn alone with Julian. “If we don’t leave right now, you might regret it.” I gave him a subtle warning. Benjamin jolted, and his pace instantly quickened. This time, Julian didn’t try to stop us.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391681”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 It was the seventh year since I’d escaped my family, the year I met the woman I thought was my soulmate. Her looks, her personality, even her tastes—everything about her was perfect for me. In our third month together, we decided on a destination wedding. The night before we were set to leave, I was scrolling idly through a forum and stumbled upon a post. [Late Night Vents: What’s the most outrageous thing you’ve ever agreed to do for a boyfriend?] I was about to swipe past it, but a reply from a user named “IndigoSky” caught my eye. [So many things. We were young and reckless, so I gave him everything. Got pregnant for him, had an abortion. Satisfied his every fantasy, wherever he wanted.] [But the most outrageous thing? I agreed to marry his brother.] Amid a sea of sympathetic replies, IndigoSky posted again. [Don’t feel sorry for me, everyone. My boyfriend has heart failure. Only his brother’s heart can save him.] [I’m going to help him get that heart. Then we’ll be together forever and ever.] I stared at her profile picture, at the tattoo on her chest that was an exact match to the one over my own heart. My world tilted, and my heart began to sink. … [Maybe we should cancel tomorrow’s flight.] It was three in the morning when I sent the message to my fiancée, Sophie. She replied almost instantly. [Why? Haven’t you been looking forward to our wedding trip for ages?] I sent her a quick photo I’d taken of the hospital, just as my doctor called me into his office. “Mr. Reed, given your physical condition, I really can’t recommend long-distance travel…” “Doctor, is Asher okay?” Before the doctor could finish, Sophie burst into the room, breathless. She was still in her pajamas, her eyes wide with a worry so deep it seemed bottomless. A shame it was all an act. No, that wasn’t entirely true. The worry was real, but not for me. After all, if something happened to my health, her true love—my younger brother, Nathan—would lose his chance at a heart transplant. A bitter taste filled my mouth, and I lowered my head. The doctor, misinterpreting my silence, played his part as usual, offering a comforting lie to Sophie. “He’s fine. It’s the same old issue. As long as he takes his medication, he’ll be alright.” “But I would still advise you to be cautious about this wedding trip.” Sophie nodded, volunteering to go pick up my prescription. When the white bottle was in her hand, her brow furrowed. “What’s this? I haven’t seen this one before.” “It’s for my stomach,” I lied smoothly. “The doctor said it’s gentler on my system.” But Sophie wasn’t buying it. She took a picture of my medical report and sent it to a doctor friend of hers. For a split second, I almost convinced myself that the forum post had been a hallucination. Then her friend’s reply came back as a voice note, and she accidentally played it on speaker. “Relax. That medication is for heart failure, but it’s sometimes used for stomach issues too.” “Besides, your Asher gets a full check-up every month, and he gets a clean bill of health every single time.” “That heart of his is so strong you could probably smash rocks on it and it would be fine…” Sophie frantically cut the audio off, but my heart had already plunged into an icy abyss. Of course. She wasn’t worried about me. I reached for a cigarette, needing to get out, but she plucked it from my fingers. “You shouldn’t smoke if you’re not feeling well.” “And… maybe we really should cancel the flight tomorrow?” I didn’t answer. Just then, a text message notification lit up my phone. [Mr. Asher Reed, your one-million-dollar accidental death and dismemberment policy is now active.] [This policy is valid for one week and offers a maximum payout of three million dollars.] Three million… The cost of a heart transplant surgery was exactly three million dollars. It seemed Sophie really, truly loved Nathan. She’d even factored in the surgical fees. Noticing the dark look on my face, Sophie rushed to explain. “Asher, don’t overthink it. A friend of mine sells insurance, and I was just helping her meet her sales quota.” “And I bought one for myself, too! See…” I cut her off. “It’s late. Go home and get some rest.” “I’ll see you at the airport in the morning.” 2 My family was a catastrophe. My father was a violent drunk and a compulsive gambler. When I was seven, he backhanded my little brother during a drunken rage, and that was the last straw for my mother. She filed for divorce. In court, she took my younger brother, Nathan. I dragged my leg, which my father had also broken, to the train station to see them off. My mother cupped my face in her hands and whispered that she was sorry. She told me to hold on, to wait for the day she would come back for me. I waited for ten years. I waited until my drunk of a father stumbled, fell into a roadside ditch, and drowned. Only then did a social worker help me contact the mother I had longed for all those years. She had remarried. She was draped in designer clothes, and my brother had transformed into a polished, privileged young man. But when the subject of me coming to live with them came up, they both became evasive. In the end, I was sent to a boarding school. I was an outcast, constantly bullied, but it was better than the life I’d known, a life of never knowing where my next meal was coming from. Three years later, I was accepted into a top-tier university. On the day the acceptance letters went out, my mother, who had never once visited me, showed up in a luxury car. She said the Vaughn family—her new family—was throwing a party to officially welcome me home. She handed me a drink herself. A welcome-home toast. I woke up in a prison cell, told I had killed someone in a high-speed street race. Meanwhile, the real heir of the Vaughn family, my brother, had assumed my identity and was attending that top-tier university in my place. Nathan was sent to a prestigious school abroad. I spent ten years in prison. When I got out, I changed my name and fought my way up from nothing to build the life I have now. Then Sophie came to my company for an interview. She told me her family had always treated her like a “blood bag,” a resource to be used, and that she just wanted to live for herself for once. I saw a reflection of my younger self in her. I broke my own rules and hired her on the spot. Sophie didn’t disappoint. Within a week, she had mastered her duties. Within a month, she was indispensable. The day before her probationary period ended, she confronted a colleague who was taking kickbacks and ended up in the hospital after a heated argument. The colleague was connected to one of our most important corporate partners. Before I could even intervene, Sophie submitted her resignation. A month later, I found her working at a late-night food stall, being harassed by a drunk. I stepped in. We spent that night talking at the police station, opening our hearts to each other. That’s when we started our relationship. The more time I spent with her, the more certain I was that she was the one. But my past made me terrified of marriage. I could never bring myself to take that final step. Until a week ago, when Sophie came to me, her face glowing with joy, holding up a positive pregnancy test. Suddenly, all I wanted was a family. If it hadn’t been for that post… My alarm blared, and I wiped the tears from my eyes before driving to the airport. While I was waiting for Sophie in the terminal, IndigoSky updated her comment thread. [That was close. For a second, I thought the heart I worked so hard for was about to slip away.] [Good thing I’m smart. I used a little reverse psychology and calmed him down.] [I even made him a special breakfast. I’m sure he’ll be really touched when he sees it!] “Asher, you haven’t eaten, have you? Look what I brought you!” I hadn’t even finished reading the comment when Sophie appeared before me, holding a lunchbox. It was identical to the one in the picture IndigoSky had just posted. My appetite vanished. “I already ate. You can have it.” I turned and walked toward the security gate alone. A flicker of disappointment crossed Sophie’s face, but she quickly caught up. I didn’t say another word to her until we were in our seats on the plane. Even when she tried to lean in and talk to me, I just turned my head away and pretended to be asleep. I heard her let out a faint, almost inaudible sigh beside me. All I felt was a chilling cold.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391700”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Ten years after my death, I was reborn as Daisy, my own pampered granddaughter, who always clung to me. In my last life, I started from a street stall, clawed my way to a publicly traded corporation, and hadn’t slept a single good night in sixty years. This time, I could finally be a third-generation heiress, living a life of leisure. But no sooner had I woken up than I saw a notification on my phone. My adopted son, Leo Maxwell, was poised to dismantle the business empire I had painstakingly built. All the Lees, my relatives, stormed into the CEO’s office, pointing fingers at him, yelling, “What right do you, an outsider, have to dispose of the Lee family’s assets!” Leo merely lifted his gaze, and the entire room fell silent, like chickens gone mute. In the end, every single Lee was thrown out of the building, becoming the laughingstock of the city. Only I was left behind with Leo. I felt a pang of guilt, half-expecting him to recognize me, his old matriarch. Instead, he tossed a stack of business management quizzes at me, his face cold. “Grandma doted on you most of all in her life, but your brain is less than a thousandth of hers.” “These tests, you must score above 90% on every single one.” He leaned in, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. “Fail to do so, and don’t even think about visiting her grave.” “I’ll tell everyone—you’re not worthy of being her granddaughter.” 1 The moment consciousness flooded back, a searing headache made me groan. Ten years of murky, post-mortem memories receded like a tide, replaced by those of another girl. Daisy Lee. My little granddaughter. The one who, at three years old, would cling to me, begging me to read to her. The one my son and daughter-in-law spoiled rotten, so delicate that a mere touch would make her cry. I shot upright and rushed to the bathroom. The mirror reflected a youthful face, wide, sparkling eyes, skin like porcelain, and softly curled hair—the epitome of a spoiled little princess. Looking at this face, untouched by the storms of life, my emotions were a complicated mess. In my last life, I built an empire from scratch, from a humble street cart to a listed corporation, working myself into ill health by sixty, with wrinkles that even the most expensive skincare couldn’t erase. Now, I’d been given a second chance, only to become my own granddaughter? Well, it’s not so bad. After a lifetime of toil, this time I’d be a third-generation heiress. I’d finally enjoy a life of… “Buzz—buzz—” My phone on the vanity vibrated wildly, the screen lighting up with urgent news alerts. [Lee Group Stock Plummets! Billions Lost in a Single Day!] [Leo Maxwell’s Leadership Fails? Lee Business Empire on the Brink!] [Industry Analysts: Lee Group CEO Leo Maxwell’s Recent Decisions Questioned, Suspected of Deliberate Self-Sabotage?] Leo Maxwell. My adopted son. When I found him, he was twelve, as thin as a bean sprout, but his eyes held the fierce glint of a wolf cub. Most of the Lee descendants were soft-natured; I was worried about finding an heir, so I adopted him. I spent ten years smoothing his rough edges, teaching him the ways of business, and on my deathbed, against all opposition, I entrusted the company to him. I thought he’d understand my efforts. I thought he’d protect my legacy. And this is how he repays me? A surge of righteous fury shot to my head. I threw the phone down, grabbed a coat, and stormed out. This life, though housed in a pampered body, still held the spirit of old Mrs. Lee. I needed to get some answers. What exactly was Leo Maxwell trying to do? Did he think that just because I was gone, no one could control him anymore? I rushed downstairs, before I could even call a driver, an urgent news flash suddenly appeared on the hundred-inch TV screen in the living room. [Breaking! Lee Group CEO Leo Maxwell Announces Donation of All Personal Assets and Remaining Group Liquid Funds, Plus Select Real Estate, Totaling Approximately Ten Billion Dollars, to Sunstone Charity Home!] On the screen, Leo Maxwell, impeccably dressed in a suit, stood beside the donation agreement, his face calm and unreadable. Below him, flashbulbs exploded. My steps faltered. I stared at the scrolling news headline, rooted to the spot. He donated everything? And to Sunstone Charity Home, of all places? While I was still reeling, my father, uncles, and aunts in this life had already erupted. “He’s lost his mind! He’s absolutely lost it!” My father, Robert Lee, slammed his teacup, his face ashen. “That’s Lee family money! What right does he have to donate it?!” “I told you this stray wouldn’t be tamed! Mom shouldn’t have been so soft-hearted and picked him up!” Uncle George stomped his foot, cursing. “Call the police! We must call the police! This is embezzlement! This is theft!” The group clawed at each other like hyenas whose food had been snatched, red-eyed, howling, completely devoid of dignity. I watched them coldly. These people, my children in my past life. Not much talent, but when it came to fighting over inheritance and being a hindrance, they were second to none. If I hadn’t kept them in check, the company would have been bled dry long ago. Now, seeing the money gone, they were more frantic than anyone. The whole group stormed out, clearly going to confront Leo. I slowly followed. My emotions were complicated. This move by Leo, it was too radical, and too unexpected. Sunstone Charity Home, that was where I met him. And it was also where I first started, where I got my first investment. The old director there was a truly good person. I had sworn then that if I succeeded, I would repay that place a hundred, a thousand times over. I had only mentioned this to young Leo once. He… remembered? 2 The top floor of Lee Group headquarters, outside the CEO’s office, was a chaotic mess, like a fish market. My children and grandchildren from this life were all blocked by bodyguards. Unable to get in, they cursed outside, their words viciously offensive. “Leo Maxwell! You ungrateful bastard! Get out here!” “That’s my mother’s company! What right do you have to donate it?! What kind of trash are you?!” “Bastard! Scum! They should have let you starve and freeze to death back then!” The security guards formed a human wall, their faces impassive, clearly well-trained. The secretary on the side was sweating profusely, trying to say something, but her voice was completely drowned out by the shouting. I watched this group argue like common street vendors, my brow furrowing deeper. Such uncouth behavior! Did decades of upbringing amount to nothing? “Everyone, shut up!” I snapped, the unconscious authority of old Mrs. Lee emerging. “What kind of scene is this?! Can’t you talk…” “Daisy, shut your mouth!” My father in this life, Robert Lee, abruptly cut me off, his face full of irritation. “What do kids know?! Go stand aside!” Uncle George shot me a harsh glare. “Adults are talking, it’s not your place to interrupt! If you keep yelling, I’ll send you home!” I instantly choked, the rest of my words caught in my throat. Looking at their agitated, distorted faces, I suddenly realized. Right now, I was Daisy Lee, the least influential granddaughter in the family. A wave of powerlessness washed over me. I pressed my lips together, silently retreating to the back of the crowd, observing the farce coldly. I didn’t expect that short moment to be perfectly captured by a pair of deep eyes peeking from behind the office door. The office door suddenly opened. Leo Maxwell stepped out. He must be thirty-five this year. Time hadn’t etched many lines on his face; instead, it had refined him, giving him a stern, imposing aura. His suit was sharp, his posture upright, and his gaze, when it swept over them, felt like shards of ice. The previously noisy crowd instantly quieted by half. My father, stiff-necked, still wanted to say something, but a glance from Leo instantly deflated his bluster. “What’s all this noise about?” Leo’s voice wasn’t loud, but it clearly cut through all other sounds. “Do I need to report company decisions to you?” “That’s the Lee family’s company!” Uncle George shrieked. “The Lee family?” Leo gave a faint, cold smirk, as if he’d heard a joke. “When Grandma was alive, which of you ever earned a dime for Lee Group? The losses you incurred, however, were countless. And now you show up claiming it’s the Lee family’s?” His gaze swept over the faces, some angry, some guilty. “When the group’s capital chain broke, and stock prices plummeted, where were you?” “When banks called in debts, and partners canceled contracts, where were you then?” “Aside from selling off Grandma’s antiques and properties to cover your messes, what else can you do?” A torrent of questions left the group speechless, their faces alternating between green and white. “As for the donation,” Leo’s tone grew colder. “I used my personal funds and disposed of the group’s remaining assets to overcome the crisis, all legally and compliantly. Who are you to dictate what I do?” “Bullshit!” My father finally found his voice, his eyes red. “You’re just seeking revenge! Revenge on the Lee family! Revenge on Mom for keeping you in line! You’re just an ungrateful wretch we raised!” Leo’s expression instantly darkened. The air around them seemed to drop several degrees. “Robert Lee,” Leo didn’t even call him by his usual title, just his name. “Watch your words. If not for Grandma’s sake, you wouldn’t even have the right to stand here and speak to me.” He raised a hand. Security personnel immediately stepped forward, forcefully “escorting” people out. “Get out! All of you, get out!” “Leo Maxwell! How dare you!” “We’ll sue you! You just wait!” Cries, curses, and threats filled the air, but my children and grandchildren were unceremoniously cleared out. The farce ended. I stood in the corner, watching these useless descendants being removed, feeling a surge of annoyance. Leo’s gaze swept past the crowd, landing precisely on me. “You,” he pointed at me, his eyes deep and unreadable, “come in.” My heart tightened. Bearing the resentful stares of the others, I bit the bullet and followed him into the office. The door closed behind us, shutting out all the noise. 3 The office was quiet. Leo walked behind his desk, turned, and fixed his piercing gaze on me. He said nothing, just watched me, as if trying to see straight through me. Under his intense scrutiny, my scalp tingled, and I tried my best to maintain Daisy’s usual timid demeanor. After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice even. “That was quite a display of authority just now.” My heart skipped a beat. Leo was a smart kid, even as a child. Could he have… “But it was a little foolish,” his tone turned colder. “Unable to grasp the situation, trying to smash an egg against a rock.” I lowered my head, not daring to speak. He suddenly picked up a stack of test papers from a nearby table and tossed them onto the desk in front of me. Corporate Strategic Management, Advanced Financial Analysis, Market Game Theory… All business management courses, and not easy ones. I immediately recognized that some of the trap questions and assessment approaches were very similar to the tricky ones I used to devise to challenge him. “Your father says you want to intern at the company?” Leo leaned back in his chair, his tone unreadable, but his finger tapped lightly on the Market Game Theory paper, his gaze like a hawk, watching my initial reaction as I picked up the tests. I: “…” No, I don’t. Looking at these papers, I sighed inwardly. Perhaps I pushed too hard in my previous life; old Mrs. Lee, this time, just wanted to enjoy the life of a rich heiress. Otherwise, how could I justify a lifetime of hard work? But I could only nod. “…Mmm.” At the same time, my fingers subconsciously flipped through the top paper, my gaze quickly scanning several key questions. My brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, then quickly relaxed. The way these questions are designed, still the same old tricks, focusing on human weaknesses and loopholes in regulations. Seriously, no progress at all. “With your grades, failing every subject, what could you possibly do in the company? Even fetching tea and water, you’d be too stupid.” His words were blunt, but his gaze was fixed on my brow, where it had just furrowed and relaxed, and on the focused intensity in my eyes as I quickly scanned the papers—an intensity that no slacker would possess. My mouth twitched uncontrollably. That brat, still so sharp-tongued! I fought the urge to blurt out, “Your old lady used these exact tricks to test you back then, and you almost cried!” Instead, I took a small breath, suppressing the flicker of disrespect and a strange sense of familiarity. Head bowed, focused only on maintaining my disguise, I didn’t notice the increasing depth in Leo’s gaze. “Grandma always said you looked like her when she was young,” he paused, his gaze again sweeping over my face, this time with a more intense scrutiny and an almost perplexed inquiry. He even unconsciously tapped his fingertips on the desk. This was his habitual movement when deep in thought. “But seeing your pig-headed brain, you’re not even a thousandth of her.” I: “!!!” Is that how you talk about your own mother?! I almost couldn’t stop myself from slapping the desk and jumping up, the anger that flared in my eyes and the authoritative air of old Mrs. Lee, though fleeting, made Leo’s tapping fingers suddenly stop. The inquiry in his eyes instantly sharpened, and he even leaned forward slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if to see more clearly. But his next sentence rooted me to the spot, temporarily interrupting his dangerous scrutiny. “Grandma valued two things above all else in her life: the Lee family’s reputation, and the competence of its descendants.” “Before she passed, she repeatedly instructed me never to allow anyone in the Lee family to become a wasteful spendthrift who knew nothing about business.” His gaze swept over me, cold and stern, his tone growing harsher. “You failed four subjects last semester, you don’t even understand basic business principles, and all you do all day is eat, drink, shop, and party.” “With your meager abilities, do you deserve the Lee name? Do you deserve to be Grandma’s granddaughter?” He picked up the top paper, a financial report analysis covered in red crosses, and slammed it down in front of me. “Grandma doted on you most of all in her life, always saying you looked just like her when she was young.” “But seeing your pig-headed brain, you’re not even a thousandth of her!” “Redo all these tests. Every subject must score above 90%.” He leaned in, his voice carrying an undeniable threat. “If you fail to do so…” “Don’t expect to attend Grandma’s gravesite visit.” “I’ll tell everyone that Daisy Lee has no right to stand before Grandma’s tomb—because you’re not worthy of being her granddaughter.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391717”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel