Category: English

1 On the eve of our wedding, my fiancée Aria’s childhood sweetheart came back. Caleb Chrest, the golden boy who once had the world at his feet, had been reduced to a simpleton by a tragic accident. Now, he wouldn’t let anyone near him except Aria. I thought she would keep her distance. After all, eight years ago, they had destroyed each other, a spectacular implosion that ended with Caleb fleeing the country and Aria’s entire family in the hospital. Since she’d been with me, I was her entire world. Our friends always teased her about it, calling her famously devoted now that her long-time crush—me—had finally become her fiancé. But now, she was on the phone, frantically arranging to pick him up, so absorbed she didn’t even notice I’d come home. “Cancel the setup at the venue for now,” she was saying, her voice strained. “Caleb can’t handle the idea of me getting married.” She let out a soft, confident breath. “Don’t worry, Ethan won’t mind. He loves me so much. He even cut ties with his family just to marry me…” Aria was so certain I’d do anything for her. What she didn’t know was that my father’s favorite game was pretending to disapprove. Not only had he prepared an astronomical “dowry” to help this ‘imposter’ heiress secure her position in the Monroe family, but he had also hand-picked another fiancée for me long ago… … A few days ago, I’d heard rumors that Caleb was back in the country, demanding that Aria come get him. I didn’t think anything of it. She hadn’t reacted to the news either, other than being too nervous and excited about our wedding to sleep. But now, the wedding I had dreamed of for years was just an inconvenient ceremony she needed to postpone. Her line was busy, so I drove to the hotel myself. The grand ballroom, which had been nearly transformed for our ceremony, was stripped bare. Everything had been packed away. The hotel manager conveniently avoided me. I went home, a cold fury simmering in my gut. Just as I was about to confront her, two vases came hurtling toward me. “Thief! Robber! Who said you could steal my Aria?” Shards of porcelain skittered across the floor, one slicing into my calf. I cried out in pain, stumbling backward. But Caleb wasn’t finished. He lunged at me, grabbing a handful of sharp fragments as if he couldn’t feel the pain, and tried to throw them at my face. I instinctively threw my arms up to block him. “Caleb!” Aria screamed, rushing out of the kitchen and grabbing his hand. The throbbing pain in my leg mixed with a surge of angry, wounded betrayal. This was the woman who used to fret over a papercut on my finger, and now she hadn’t even glanced at me. “Caleb, are you trying to destroy your hand?” she cried, her voice laced with panic. She immediately fetched the first-aid kit and began tending to his wounds, her brow furrowed with heartache. I looked around, and a wave of dizziness hit me. It wasn’t just Aria who seemed like a stranger; the whole house was alien. The designer watches she’d given me, the latest season’s menswear—all of it had been moved into a new, separate room. The rest of our home was a scene of utter devastation. Our wedding portrait and all our other photos together were shredded on the floor. The festive crimson banners we’d hung were torn down and crumpled. Anything red, anything that symbolized our union, had been destroyed. The Monroe family’s housekeeper was cleaning up the mess, while Aria’s neat handwriting on sticky notes directed her where to place Caleb’s garish action figures. She’d even installed protective corner guards on the tables. She was still so meticulous, just as she had been when she designed every inch of this home with me. But this was supposed to be our home. The unease I’d been feeling solidified into a cold, hard dread. “Aria, what is the meaning of this?” It was as if she’d only just remembered I existed. She turned, the gentle, placating smile she’d been giving Caleb freezing on her lips. Her eyes darted around the ruined room, and a look of guilt and panic flashed across her face. “Ethan…” As she started to rise, Caleb wrapped his arms around her waist and started to sob like a child. “Aria, why were you mean to me just now?” he wailed, then pointed a trembling, accusatory finger at me. “Was it because of him? Because of this pretty boy who stole you from me?” Aria finally noticed the blood trickling down my leg. With a sigh of resignation, she gestured for the housekeeper to come bandage my wound, then pulled me tensely into the study. “Ethan, please don’t be angry with Caleb,” she began, her voice hesitant. “I know he’s older than you, but mentally… he’s stuck at around ten years old.” “He’s always been possessive,” she continued, her tone pleading. “I just looked away for a second and he destroyed the house. You can understand that, can’t you?” She wouldn’t meet my eyes, but her resolve hardened. “You know what happened. After his family went bankrupt, his parents disappeared. He doesn’t remember any of his other relatives or friends. Caleb… he only has me now.” Then came the final blow. “He’ll be living with us from now on.” The decision was so sudden, so absurd, it was almost laughable. “No. I don’t understand, and I don’t accept it.” The words felt like acid on my tongue. “First you cancel the wedding, now you’re redecorating our home for him. Should I just give him my spot in our bed, too?” A look of relief washed over her face. “Oh, so you already know about the wedding?” 2 Aria started rubbing my shoulders, the way she always did to calm me down. She let out a small, placating laugh. “Honey, you’re not actually jealous of someone with the mind of a child, are you? Look, we can go get the marriage license in a couple of days. As for the ceremony, we’ll have a proper one once his condition stabilizes.” I pulled away from her touch, my disappointment a lead weight in my stomach. “What does his condition have to do with us?” Her face was a mask of guilt. “His psychological problems started after I forced him to leave the country. When he heard about our engagement, he got drunk and had an accident. It took him over a year to recover to… this state.” She finally looked at me, her eyes filled with a terrible certainty. “It’s my fault. I owe him this. I have to take responsibility for him.” This wasn’t a discussion. It was a declaration. I knew Aria. That unshakeable resolve, once a quality I admired, now felt like a dagger in my heart. That night, she smoothed things over with her family and posted on social media, confirming the wedding was postponed. My father’s call came soon after. His voice was tight with barely suppressed rage. “Ethan. Is this wedding not happening?” I gripped the phone, forcing my voice to remain steady. “No. Not for now.” The story Aria heard—that I’d cut ties with my family—was just an exaggeration of my father’s anger when I’d refused to have our main wedding ceremony in our hometown of Northwood. I didn’t sleep that night, lost in memories. I remembered the day Aria found out I loved her back. She was so ecstatic she wanted to shout it from the rooftops. My father had initially disapproved of our relationship; he already had the perfect daughter-in-law in mind. But Aria never complained. She just worked tirelessly to prove herself worthy. Even though she thought I came from a modest background, she never once treated me with anything but respect. “It must be me,” she’d say. “I’m just not good enough to make your father happy yet.” Everyone knew Aria was determined to marry me. The wild, rebellious girl I first met had slowly transformed into a poised and capable woman. It was only after she achieved incredible success at her company that my father finally gave her his blessing. On the day we got engaged, she cried with joy. “I promise, sir,” she told him, “I will never, ever let Ethan down.” And she hadn’t. She was fiercely loyal, shutting down any hint of flirtation from others, always putting me first. But the moment Caleb Chrest came back, she broke her promise. … The next morning, Aria emerged from Caleb’s room, dark circles under her eyes. Seeing my stunned expression, she explained awkwardly, “He gets anxious. He needs someone to soothe him to sleep.” I walked past her, heading for the closet to put away the tuxedo I’d had meticulously prepared for our wedding. But the display stand was empty. A terrible premonition coiled in my stomach. Laughter echoed from downstairs. I found Caleb there, wearing my tuxedo, gleefully painting on the walls with his hands. The jacket was covered in childish graffiti. The pant legs had been crudely hacked short. It was slathered in so many colors of paint it was unrecognizable. A roaring sound filled my ears. That suit was more than just fabric and thread. My mother, before she passed, had designed it for me, pouring over draft after draft. It wasn’t just a memento; it was a mother’s love and blessings for her son, woven into every stitch. Now, it was ruined. Defiled. He twirled in front of me, his eyes holding a clear, defiant challenge. For a split second, there was no trace of the simpleton, only sharp, calculating intelligence. I saw it all in that instant. “Hey, bad guy,” he chirped, his voice mocking. “What do you think of my new clothes? Aren’t all the colors pretty?” My fists clenched, rage, hot and blinding, shot through me. “Take it off.” He ignored me, dipping his fingers back into the paint. “Why should I? I don’t want to! Aria said this is my home now when we were sleeping last night. She said everything here can be mine.” I grabbed him by the collar and slapped him, hard, across the face. Twice. “Aria! Help me!” he shrieked, bursting into tears. “I said,” I snarled, my voice low and dangerous, “take it off!” He thrashed and clawed at my hands, but I didn’t let go. I raised my hand to strike him again, but Aria caught my wrist. Caleb scrambled into her arms like a frightened animal, sobbing that I was trying to kill him. Aria looked at me with a cold, guarded expression. “It’s just a suit, Ethan! Why are you going crazy and hitting him?” I was shaking with fury. “He’s faking it!” She didn’t believe me. Her eyes followed my gaze to the ruined tuxedo on Caleb’s body, and her breath hitched. 3 “Caleb! Didn’t I tell you not to touch Ethan’s things? You—” Caleb gasped for air, and then his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed. Aria caught him, her face pale with panic. She had the housekeeper change his clothes while she made a frantic series of calls, urging a doctor to come immediately. “Ethan,” she whispered, her voice pleading. “Please… don’t provoke him.” She still wanted me to be the one to yield. I numbly picked up the tattered remains of my suit from the corner where it had been tossed. A profound sense of powerlessness washed over me. When Aria came into my room later, she saw me packing a bag and her face fell. “Ethan, I’ll have it restored.” “It’s my fault, I should have been clearer with him,” she said hastily. “I’ll make him apologize to you right now.” She pulled me into Caleb’s room. He was clutching the corner of her shirt, looking lost and confused. “Aria, don’t be mad at me.” “You said… you said this was my home. Why should I listen to… to him?” He looked at me, and his expression suddenly twisted into a mask of pure desperation. He scrambled off the bed and started banging his head on the floor. “Please, I’m begging you, just leave!” he sobbed. “You can have all my toys! I just want Aria!” I saw shock and conflict flicker in Aria’s eyes. She didn’t immediately pull him up. When she finally moved to comfort me, Caleb let out a wild scream and pulled out a knife he’d hidden, holding it to his own wrist. “Aria is all I have! Make him get out!” The psychologist later told her Caleb had a “physiological aversion” to me. Watching him sob until he could barely breathe, Aria wrapped her arms around him, shielding his eyes from the sight of me. “His emotional state is too unstable,” she said, her voice strained. “Ethan, you need to leave. For now.” Two nurses she had called for backup escorted me firmly out the door. It was pouring rain outside. I knocked, but no one answered. My vision blurred, and a deep chill settled into my bones. I didn’t have my phone, and I was still in my pajamas. My only option was to walk out of the gated community to find a place where I could call for a ride. … I ended up in the hospital with a fever from the cold. As I was waiting, I saw Aria rushing down a hallway and instinctively followed her. “It’s been six months. Why hasn’t his condition improved?” It was the psychologist’s voice. “Aria, his obsession is you. That’s why you’re the only person he remembers.” The doctor sighed. “You’re the one who deliberately sent him the engagement announcement that triggered his accident in the first place…” “The reason he hasn’t gotten better is because you used to only visit him once a month. Of course he’s terrified you’ll abandon him again. It’s perfectly normal for him to be hostile toward your fiancé. If you don’t want Caleb to have another breakdown, you need to remove the source of his insecurity.” Aria’s voice was sharp with warning. “That’s enough. Don’t talk nonsense.” So. They had been in contact for a year. No wonder she was so practiced at handling him. The irony was suffocating. All those “monthly business trips” she’d told me about… My complete and total trust in her was now a cruel joke. Because of today’s incident, she had even hired bodyguards for Caleb. That evening, Aria picked me up so I could pack some of my things. She stared at my red-rimmed eyes, her voice soft and cautious. “Ethan… would you be willing to move out for a little while?” She showed me her phone. She had already booked our appointment to register the marriage. I nodded, turned off my screen, and closed my burning eyes. When we got back to the house, there was a puppy in the backyard. The engagement ring Aria had worn was now hanging from its collar. The reason? Caleb was afraid the puppy would get lost, and the unique ring would make a perfect dog tag. I calmly slipped my matching ring from my finger and dropped it into my pocket. Then, I opened my phone and accepted a friend request I had been ignoring. A message came through immediately. [Don’t worry. All the years of support Mr. Kensington has given the Monroe family will not be in vain.] Attached was a wedding plan, updated annually to reflect my changing tastes. In the past, my father had always declined it on my behalf. This time, I replied with a single word. [Approved.] … Two days later, a message from Aria popped up. [I thought we agreed to get our marriage license today? Ethan, why didn’t you show up?] I was busy with work transitions and ignored her calls. A few hours later, she sent me the address of a remote, no-name hotel. [Is this about the wedding? Fine. I’ll give you a wedding.] [Stop throwing a tantrum. We’ve been together for nearly ten years. Don’t let a small thing like this…] Someone leaked a screenshot of the cheap, thrown-together venue to our friends’ group chat, along with the fact that Aria had only invited a handful of people and begged them to keep it a secret. The same friends who had once envied our love story were now openly and privately mocking me. Our ten years, it seemed, couldn’t compete with Caleb’s ten-year-old mind. The messages in the group chat kept coming. I paused, typed out a short reply, and hit send. [Wedding’s off. We broke up.]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386899”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

As Hugh Sullivan’s intended wife, the title of “Mrs. Sullivan” was the last thing I ever wanted. On our wedding day, standing outside the dressing room, I overheard a conversation between my father and Hugh. “Hugh, are you truly willing to marry Elara for Celia’s sake?” “If you have second thoughts now, I can still find someone else to take her place.” A heavy sigh from Hugh. “I’m the only one who can tie Elara down, make her give up her claim on the inheritance. Everything I’m doing… it’s all for Celia.” A slow, silent smile spread across my lips. Oh, Father. You’ve grown so foolish in your old age. Did you really think marrying me off would be enough to neutralize me? That it would clear the way for you to welcome your illegitimate children into the family and hand them the Vance family’s billion-dollar fortune? And Hugh… he gave himself far too much credit. The only reason I agreed to this union, the only reason I gave him a second glance, was because he was the man Celia Vance had her heart set on. And what could be more satisfying than stealing the one thing your enemy cherishes, using him completely, and then casting him aside? After all, my mother taught me from a young age: what is yours, you take back, by any means necessary. 1 My father clapped Hugh on the shoulder, his voice heavy with meaning. “I appreciate your devotion to Celia. After the wedding, I’ll transfer five percent of Vance Enterprises’ stock to you as compensation.” But Hugh refused flatly. “I don’t want compensation. When Celia gets back from her trip, I just want to be the one to explain this to her, to make it right.” Celia. Always the precious jewel they cradled in their hands. To avoid upsetting her, my father had conveniently sent her on an overseas vacation right before my wedding. I’d expected this, of course, but hearing the words spoken aloud still sent a familiar pang through my chest. I pursed my lips and turned away, quietly signaling my makeup artist to fetch the wedding ring I’d “forgotten.” What isn’t mine, I don’t want. But what is rightfully mine… you will never take from me. The ceremony reached its peak. With a perfect, demure smile, I linked my arm through my father’s and walked toward Hugh. He placed my hand solemnly into Hugh’s, patting our joined hands with a look of fatherly affection and concern. “Elara, you only just returned home… and with your mother gone so early, and me so busy with work… I haven’t been able to care for you properly. Now that you’re marrying Hugh, I can finally rest easy, knowing he’ll look after you.” I dug my nails into my own thigh, hard, until the sting brought tears to my eyes. I let out a choked sob and threw myself into my father’s arms. Peeking over his shoulder at Hugh, I whispered in a trembling, childish voice, “Daddy, what if… what if Hugh isn’t good to me?” Hugh’s body went rigid, his brow furrowing in a flicker of irritation. “Elara, I’ll be good to you for the rest of our lives.” A pathetic performance. I scoffed internally, ignoring him completely. Clinging to my father’s arm, I rocked it gently. “Daddy, do you remember when I was eight and threw a tantrum because I wanted a little brother to protect me?” “You spun me around and around, and you told me I was your one and only precious pearl, and that you would protect me forever.” My father’s smile faltered. He knew where this was going. But I pressed on, my voice dripping with manufactured innocence. “It was only later that I learned Mommy couldn’t have any more children after she had me. But you never cared about the rumors, about people saying you needed a son to be the ‘pillar of the family.’ You always took such good care of us.” “Even after Mom passed away five years ago, you never remarried or had other children. Daddy, thank you. Thank you for giving all your love to just me and Mom.” Coming from anyone else, such words would have melted a father’s heart. But my father had a secret mistress and two secret children tucked away in the shadows. He had always treated me like a naive little princess, assuming I was clueless about his affair, about the second family he’d raised behind our backs. His plan was to use this very reception to bring his mistress and illegitimate children out into the open, to force me to accept them. I wouldn’t give him the chance. Before he could muster a response, the guests began to murmur their approval. “Harrison Vance is famous for doting on his wife and daughter. He’s a true role model in our circle.” “A man of such high moral character, it’s no wonder he’s built such an empire. He’s an inspiration to us all.” My father prized his public image above all else. The praise from his peers sealed his lips shut. His face was a mask of strained discomfort as he instinctively glanced toward the audience, where I knew Madeline and her son, Caleb, were sitting. Their faces were tight, their fists clenched. Their long-planned ambush had been effortlessly dismantled by my “innocent” little speech, and now they were all squirming, trapped in the spotlight. I kept my expression pure and deeply moved, but inside, I was fighting back a triumphant laugh. My father sighed heavily, but I wasn’t done yet. I decided to turn up the heat. “Daddy,” I said, my voice clear and loud. “Even though I’m getting married, I’ll still be your only child, right? Your most precious pearl, forever and ever?” 2 A sharp, audible gasp from my father. I beamed, my eyes wide with expectation, locking him in place. If he admitted it, here, in front of everyone, that I was his only child, then Celia and Caleb would be condemned to the shadows forever. If he denied it, all the praise he’d just accepted would turn into a hail of scorn, branding him a hypocrite. Down in the audience, Madeline’s fist was clenched so tight her knuckles were white. This man, so decisive and ruthless in the boardroom, was now paralyzed by the simplest of questions. The loving smile vanished from his face, replaced by a storm of conflict. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Hugh shot a panicked look from my father to me, his expression twisting into one of pure disgust. “Elara, don’t push him. Can we please just continue the ceremony?” So, they were allowed to plot against me, but my fighting back was an inconvenience? I turned my head away petulantly. “No. Daddy hasn’t answered my question yet. I spent so many years alone overseas… I feel so insecure. I just need his promise. I need to know that whether I’m married or not, I’ll always be his only child, that he’ll never abandon me.” Perhaps it was guilt over my mother’s death. Perhaps it was the social blade held to his neck. Whatever the reason, my father finally broke. “Elara, don’t overthink things,” he conceded, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. “How could I ever abandon you? You will always be my only child.” Victory. I threw my arms around him again. “Daddy, I love you so much!” The hall erupted in applause. In my peripheral vision, I saw Madeline and Caleb rise from their seats, their faces black with rage, and storm out of the room. The look Hugh was giving me now wasn’t just disgust; it was pure hatred. I, however, savored it. I loved seeing him despise me while being forced to play the part of the doting husband. Amidst the cheers and applause, Hugh and I exchanged rings. When it came time for the groom to kiss the bride, he hesitated, his lips pressed into a thin, resistant line. I just smiled and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Just then, the grand doors of the hall were thrown open with a crash. Celia stormed in, her face a mask of fury. She marched right up to me and slapped me hard across the face. Her eyes were bloodshot. “You little homewrecker! You stole my boyfriend!” I didn’t feel anger. I felt a flicker of amusement. After all, I was the one who’d secretly leaked the wedding details to her. Celia turned to Hugh, tears streaming down her face, her voice a pathetic wail. “Hugh, why? Why would you marry this woman?!” Hugh shoved me away instinctively. He took a step toward her, then froze, his fists clenching at his sides, his eyes filled with pain. The guests broke into a frenzy of whispers. “Who is that? Does she have a death wish, trying to steal Harrison Vance’s son-in-law?” “Seriously, they’re already married. To make a scene like this… how shameless.” Even under the weight of their scorn, Celia held her head high with an air of defiant arrogance. I looked at Hugh, my voice trembling with practiced vulnerability. “Who is this girl? Hugh, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” A vein throbbed in Hugh’s temple, but he remained silent. “Hugh,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Now that we’re married, you need to get your affairs in order. Please don’t let people like her humiliate me like this. It… it scares me.” Perhaps I played the part of the fragile victim too well. They both underestimated me completely. Hugh finally spoke, his voice low and placating. “Celia, it’s not what you think. Go home for now. I’ll explain everything later, okay?” Celia looked like she was about to strike me again, but my father, ever conscious of the situation, boomed, “Enough!” She shot me one last hateful glare before spinning on her heel and leaving. I watched her go, a deep, cold hatred churning in the pit of my stomach. My mother’s death was not an accident, and I knew she and her family were involved. I was back now. And I was taking everything: the inheritance, the company, and the truth. 3 After that fiasco, neither my father nor Hugh had any appetite for entertaining guests. This gave me the perfect opportunity to mingle, making my face known to the titans of industry present. As things stood, I was, undeniably, the sole heir to Vance Enterprises. These corporate sharks, seeing how “malleable” I appeared, were all too eager to offer their support, their eyes gleaming with greed and calculation. My informant inside the Vance mansion told me that my father had postponed his plan to publicly announce his other family. Predictably, this led to a tearful, dramatic scene. It took hours of placating from my father to calm Madeline and her two children. Even Hugh, my brand-new husband who should have been with me, rushed over on the pretext of an “urgent business matter.” I can only imagine what new scheme they concocted to pacify the trio. In the end, Hugh was seen escorting Celia to her room. He didn’t emerge for two hours. He finally returned home at three in the morning and went straight to the study to sleep. The next day, Madeline, who had been my father’s executive assistant, was inexplicably promoted to Chief Financial Officer. Caleb went from a bottom-rung position at the main office to being appointed President of a subsidiary. Celia received the deed to a luxurious waterfront villa. And me? His legitimate daughter? To this day, I had never even set foot inside the corporate headquarters. It didn’t matter. I didn’t need to be there. My people—or rather, my mother’s people—were already inside. I also heard my father was establishing a new charity, “The Crestwood Foundation.” A thinly veiled attempt at legitimacy. Anyone with half a brain could see it was a fund for Caleb and Celia. The moment Hugh left for work, I made a call. “It’s time. And one more thing. Caleb is at the subsidiary now. He’s an incompetent, greedy, lecherous fool. Give him enough rope to hang himself. I want him to create the biggest disaster possible.” I had just hung up when I heard a key in the front door. I assumed it was Hugh, having forgotten something. But it was Celia. And behind her stood three menacing thugs. My eyes darted around the living room, taking in the evidence of my “work” from the previous night. I instinctively shrank back, my body trembling as I retreated further into the room. “What… what are you doing here? How do you have a key to my house?” “This is breaking and entering! It’s illegal!” My hands shook as I fumbled for my phone to call the police, but Celia swatted it out of my hand with a contemptuous slap. A vicious kick sent me sprawling to the floor. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. “Look at you, you pathetic little coward. How dare you steal my father? How dare you steal my Hugh?!” “You should have followed your dead mother’s example and gone straight to hell!” 4 I grabbed her wrist, struggling with all my might. “Who are you?! Don’t you dare insult my mother!” Celia sneered, striking me twice more across the face. “Listen up, you little bitch. My name is Celia Vance. Harrison Vance is my father, and I am his most beloved daughter!” “You’re nothing but a burden he dumped overseas, a nuisance who crawled her way back!” “It’s all your fault! Because of you, my family can’t be together openly!” My eyes widened in feigned disbelief, my voice quivering. “You’re lying! My father would never have another daughter!” Celia roared with laughter, only stopping after she’d beaten me until blood trickled from my nose and mouth. She looked down at me like I was trash. “A daughter is nothing,” she mocked. “I have a brother, too. And he is the true heir to the Vance fortune!” “I’m here to give you a warning. Get out of the country, or you’ll end up worse than your mother.” “And to think I brought all these guys to deal with you. You’re just as useless as that dead bitch you call a mother!” Something inside me snapped. “You can say whatever you want about me,” I screamed, “but you do not talk about my mother!” Fueled by rage, I lunged forward and sank my teeth into her wrist. Celia shrieked in pain. The three thugs immediately swarmed me, their fists and feet raining down on my body. Each dull thud was punctuated by Celia’s furious screams. “Little bitch! You dare bite me? Beat her! Beat her to death!” Someone stomped on my hand, grinding their heel into my knuckles. I felt a rib crack under a savage kick. I bit down hard, the taste of blood flooding my mouth. The world spun, and then everything went black. When I woke up, it was evening. I was in a VIP room at a private hospital, my body a symphony of pain. My father and Hugh were sitting by my bed. Seeing my eyes open, my father gripped my hand, his face etched with guilt. “Elara, you’re finally awake. You had me so worried.” I winced, my voice a weak rasp. “Dad… is it true? What she said? Do you really have another son and daughter?” He looked down, sighing heavily. It was a long moment before he spoke. “Elara, I’ve done you a great wrong. But Celia… she’s a sweet, kind-hearted girl. Once you get to know her, I’m sure you’ll grow to love her.” Tears of cold fury slid down my temples. “Dad, she beat me like this, and you’re telling me she’s kind?” Hugh quickly jumped to her defense. “Celia isn’t like that. There must have been some kind of misunderstanding.” I had wanted to give them one last chance, but their loyalties were clear. There was no point in wasting any more words. Just then, my father’s assistant burst into the room, his face pale with terror. “Mr. Vance, it’s terrible! The news… it’s leaked. About your mistress and… and the two children…” My father shot up from his chair, his voice cracking. “What did you say?!” The assistant held out his phone, his hand trembling. “It’s a top trending story. I… I don’t think we can contain this…” The battle-hardened businessman lost his composure. “How did this happen?!” he roared. “This is a complete humiliation!” “It seems… it seems Miss Celia let it slip…” the assistant stammered. At that moment, Hugh’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered immediately. Celia’s terrified shriek echoed from the speaker. “Hugh, help me!” The color drained from Hugh’s face. “Celia, don’t be afraid! I’m on my way!” He snapped his phone shut and bolted from the room. My father was frantic. “What’s wrong with Celia?!” No one answered. He chased after Hugh, not sparing me a second glance. Watching them scramble away, I felt no disappointment. Only a rising tide of dark satisfaction. I had played their game for long enough. Now, the real show was about to begin.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386915”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Right after high school graduation, I, the most homebody person I knew, chose a college two thousand miles away. My parents roared in fury, “All this over a single room?!” Yes. I was an only child from a middle-class family that owned three properties. Yet, for eighteen years, I was never allowed to have my own independent room. Chapter 1 At my eighteenth birthday party, I loudly made my wish in front of all our family and friends. “I want my own little room.” The room went silent. A relative looked utterly shocked: “She doesn’t have her own room? A girl her age needs some privacy.” “She’s an only child! My husband and I have two kids, and we gave up the living room just to make three bedrooms.” Ignoring the instant change in my parents’ expressions, I gave a frank smile: “That’s right, I don’t have my own room.” My dad struggled to force out a laugh: “She’s kidding. We only have one daughter and three houses. Would we deny her a room?” My mom desperately tried to signal me with her eyes: “Sunny is just messing with us. Quick, make another wish.” I sighed inwardly and stated solemnly: “Mom and Dad, I’m eighteen now. I genuinely want my own private space.” The room fell silent again. Relatives exchanged glances, then looked at my parents with complicated expressions. Both my parents had stable, respectable government jobs. They projected the image of doting parents who spoiled their only daughter. Yet, their own flesh-and-blood didn’t have a bedroom? My Grandma suddenly started crying, “It’s my fault. I took over my granddaughter’s room. I’m so old, I’ve become a burden to my children and grandchildren.” I felt a pang of guilt. Grandma had always been distant, but living with her for over a decade meant I wasn’t completely devoid of feeling for her. Was I being too extreme? As I hesitated, a stinging slap landed hard across my face. My dad stood there, hand raised, breathing heavily. “You ungrateful kid! You haven’t even done anything, and you’re already blaming your Grandma.” My mom awkwardly rushed to pull my dad away, then worriedly checked my face. “Sunny, let’s talk at home. Your parents would never say no to you.” I stood frozen. I had briefly owned my own room. But when I was six, my grandpa passed away, and Grandma was moved from the countryside to live with us. We lived in a two-bedroom apartment. My parents had one, and Grandma had to share mine. I’ve wanted my own room and have been protesting since I was six. But every time I brought it up, they’d just laugh it off. Or they’d patronize me: “You and your Grandma are the same gender, what’s the big deal about privacy? Besides, if you don’t have enough space for your stuff, we can install two more shelves.” But what I needed was independent space, a room that belonged only to me! Under the stress of studying, I needed a place to decompress. I wanted my room filled with things I liked, not Grandma’s vitamins and drab, dusty clothes. Grandma snored, she ground her teeth, and the elderly wake up often. I was constantly sleep-deprived and dozed off during the day. For the three days of my finals, Grandma was finally picked up by my Uncle Kevin. Chapter 2 I thought it was finally over, that I could finally breathe. I was mentally decorating my room the way I wanted, picturing inviting friends over. But the moment my exams finished, Grandma was brought back. It was a total letdown. I had even humbly suggested to my parents: I could make a small partition in the utility room, the kitchen, or the balcony. Just a private space. Even if it was cramped or smelled a little, I didn’t care. My mom stared at me with the look you give a clueless child, scolding gently: “You’re our only beloved daughter. How could you sleep in the bathroom or kitchen? What would people say? It would be so embarrassing.” My dad chuckled, patting my head. “Silly girl. If my colleagues found out that I, the big head of the department, made my daughter sleep in the bathroom, I’d be drowned in judgment.” Knowing that protesting was futile, I had decided to go all-in today, hoping the relatives’ comments might finally motivate them to get me a room. More than anything, I wanted to remind my parents that I was eighteen, an adult, and I needed physical private space. Was this really such an extravagant request? The hotel restaurant was buzzing, but my dad’s bloodshot eyes were fixed on me. It seemed hitting me once wasn’t enough to satisfy his anger. My mom and the other guests were holding him back, saying something I couldn’t make out. I felt like I couldn’t hear anything. My face was throbbing. I covered my cheek and ran out of the hotel. The evening breeze cleared my dizzy, miserable head. The streetlights cast a dim glow on the surrounding houses, and I felt utterly empty inside. My cousin, Dahlia, with whom I’ve always had a cold relationship, texted me: [I used to envy you when we were kids. Your parents both have government jobs, stable income. Unlike mine, hustling at the market for barely enough to feed and clothe me.] It was true. I always had the newest dresses and went to the most reputable tutoring centers. In terms of education and material possessions, my parents never seemed to hold back. When my peers complained about having to share snacks and toys with younger siblings, I even felt lucky to be an only child, my parents’ only darling. So, facing the fact that I didn’t have a room, I even used to reassure myself that my parents must have their own reasons. After all, with their income and assets, getting me a room would be easy. I didn’t reply. Dahlia’s message continued: [But I stopped envying you a long time ago. Want to know why?] I turned my phone off, ignoring Dahlia’s attempt to rub salt in the wound. I sat on a bridge. The river below was too dark to see the bottom. Just as I suddenly couldn’t see the depth of my parents’ affection for me. After an unknown amount of time, I heard a police siren. Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed the crowd gathered on the opposite side of the bridge. My mom was standing out, shouting: “Sunny! We had already decided to move! We just hadn’t told you yet! Please come down!” My dad’s eyes were also red, and he was violently slapping his own face: “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you! It was just impulse!” I looked down at myself. I was sitting so close to the edge of the water. It seemed like if I stretched my leg, I’d fall in. It turned out to be a massive misunderstanding. I apologized to the police and quickly walked off the bridge. My parents hugged me tightly, as if I were some lost treasure they had miraculously recovered. Chapter 3 “Sunny, you are our most precious darling.” “That’s right. We’re going to finalize the new house tomorrow.” I didn’t explain. If I could finally get my own room, I’d let them misunderstand my actions just this once. Putting aside the room issue, they were indeed flawless in every other aspect of my life. My parents took me out for another dinner. It was my favorite, spicy hot pot. My parents couldn’t handle spice, but they watched me eat, their faces smiling and tender. One poured my drink, the other wiped my mouth. We looked like the most loving family of three, with me as the absolute center. A few girls at the next table shot me envious glances. In that moment, I soaked up all their parental affection. Satisfied that I had finally weathered the storm, and with a touch of defiance, I replied to Dahlia: [My parents decided to move to a bigger house. Keep envying me.] Dahlia didn’t reply immediately. I thought I had won. Dahlia should feel ashamed of her words. I even regretted my impulsiveness that day, causing my parents to lose face. They were clearly already planning to move. They were thinking of me. That night, Grandma was picked up by my Uncle Kevin, but her clothes and belongings remained. I knew she would keep staying with us. But it didn’t matter. I could tolerate it a little longer. I had endured so many years; dawn was finally here. I spent the night in my small room for the first time. I binge-watched a TV show, drank soda, and laughed freely. I threw trash wherever I wanted; I could always clean it up in the morning. I wore something skimpy, put my feet up on the desk, not worrying about being seen. I even pulled out old love notes written by boys at school from the bottom of my drawer. I read them out loud, shamelessly enjoying the admiration. The next day, I was more excited than my parents to look at houses. They were looking at a retirement-friendly community, quiet and peaceful, with a community cafeteria nearby. The community had just opened, and because the prices were good and the location was excellent, units were quickly selling out. When we looked, only a few three-bedroom and two-bedroom units were left. One three-bedroom unit wasn’t too high up, and all three rooms were spacious. The only drawback was the connecting corridor, which meant the light might not be great. I carefully watched my parents’ faces. Seeing no obvious dissatisfaction, I completely relaxed. I happily spun around in the smallest room. I imagined placing my small bed here, and a big wardrobe for my beloved Hanfu (traditional Chinese clothing). I wouldn’t have to worry about Grandma’s drab clothes mixed in, making them look out of place. I could also put all my figurines on the shelves, without worrying that Grandma’s poor eyesight would cause her to knock them down. The sales agent held up the contract: “Look how much the young lady loves it. You two should put a deposit down quickly.” My parents exchanged a glance, shaking their heads quickly. “We rushed out this morning and forgot our bank cards. We’ll come back this afternoon to sign.” Chapter 4 After viewing the house, our university group chat sent out a message: it was time to finalize our college applications. My dad smiled, asking me, “Your scores are good enough for a top local school. You can even come home on weekends.” My mom squeezed my hand. “That’s right. You’ve never left me. Honestly, I’m not ready to let you go.” I leaned into my mom’s arms. “I’m a Mama’s Girl, a Daddy’s Girl. I told you I wouldn’t go to a school more than twenty miles away.” My parents exchanged proud, hearty laughs. I knew we were all content. The previous day’s bitterness was completely gone. After all, what child holds a grudge against their parents? That evening, I was scrolling through my phone when I saw a new post from the sales agent we met today: [Another unit sold at Building 5! So happy!] My hand froze. Building 5 units were all large two-bedroom units, which the agent had emphasized. When we were viewing the house, the agent, trying to expand his network, had added my WeChat. My parents were whispering about the structure in the hallway and hadn’t noticed. His post was made around 3 or 4 PM, exactly when my parents went to put down the deposit. I had wanted to go with them, but my mom pinched my cheek. “My girl’s skin is too delicate. We can’t let you get a sunburn.” I had whined and asked them to bring me ice cream on the way back. My mom, not knowing which flavor I wanted, bought every flavor. I had happily posted a picture on my social media with the caption: [Love my parents the most.] I tried to stay calm: What if I misheard or misremembered? I suppressed my hammering heart and messaged the agent. The agent was in a great mood and quickly replied. “Your folks picked a great unit for you. Local parents really love their daughters. Even though it only has two bedrooms, it’s a perfect fit for a family of three.” My heart plummeted. My mind went blank. Dahlia’s message popped up at that moment: [Your mom once told my mom to have a son so I wouldn’t envy you anymore.] [I’m a true only child. You’re just a policy-only child. I’m not bragging; I just want you to see the truth, but clearly, you’re very slow.] No, that’s not right! I shook my head violently. What if Grandma doesn’t plan on living with us anymore? Maybe she has other plans? Clutching onto that last shred of hope, I slowly walked out of my room. My parents were sitting on the sofa, calculator in hand, discussing: “The money from selling this apartment can cover the remainder of the new house.” “The new house is move-in ready. We can probably just leave the furniture here.” They saw me and immediately waved me over. “Sunny, come help us with the calculations. Your young brain is much sharper.” I tried to keep my voice as normal and calm as possible. “Will Grandma still be living with us?” Chapter 5 My dad didn’t look up, answering casually: “Of course. I’m the eldest son. I have the responsibility of caring for your Grandma.” My mom frowned slightly but said nothing, continuing to calculate with her pen. Some details I had ignored suddenly became glaringly obvious. My Grandma has two sons. My mom had complained before, wondering why my Grandma didn’t go to my Uncle Kevin’s house. My dad had said, “The nephew is a boy. It’s inappropriate for him to live with my mom.” My mom never brought it up again. My mom isn’t the type to tolerate everything. She once raged at my dad for forgetting to bring her local specialty food from a business trip, forcing him to take a long-distance bus to buy it again before she forgave him. Yet, ever since Grandma moved in, when my uncle came to sponge off us, my dad just turned a blind eye. They rarely fought over their respective families anymore. They seemed to have maintained a delicate balance. And I was the weight that could be sacrificed. “Don’t I deserve my own room? Mom and Dad, we have the means. Why are you specifically making me uncomfortable?” I couldn’t suppress the hurt and anger anymore. After yelling, I was shaking all over, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. Facing my breakdown and rage, my parents remained strangely calm. My dad shook his head, sighing. “You found out?” My mom took a tissue to wipe my tears, chiding me gently: “You’ll only be home for a few days when you’re in college. Why waste an entire room? Listen to me, the three-bedroom unit had poor lighting. No sunlight is bad for your health.” “The large two-bedroom unit is south-facing and has a great layout. And let’s be honest, your Grandma is old. Once she’s gone, won’t that room be all yours?” My mom kept rambling, but I only caught one sentence. “Why waste an entire room.” “So, in your hearts, you see me as a daughter who will eventually marry out. I’m an outsider. I don’t deserve a room, or reserving a room for me is a waste. If I were a boy, would you have given him an independent room?” The room was deadly silent. It was only now that I truly understood Dahlia’s words. Ha, a policy-only child. How ironic. My proud status as an only child was merely a necessity forced on my parents. My parents, both working in the public sector, couldn’t risk their careers to have a second child, a son. They only had me, their daughter, but in their hearts, they still cherished an “invisible son.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386932”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 After returning from my studies abroad, I went to my father’s company without telling him, wanting to give him a surprise. But on my first day, I found the entire office fawning over an intern, calling her “the Princess.” I froze, asking my new colleagues to confirm what I was seeing. They all said the girl, Pearl Shen, was my father’s acknowledged daughter. But I’m an only child. I’ve never had a sister! I sent a text to my father, a cold smile on my face. 【Dad, I was thinking, after I graduate, I’ll come intern at our company.】 As always, he replied in seconds. 【My precious daughter doesn’t need to work. Once you graduate, just stay abroad and enjoy yourself. The money I make is enough for you to live lavishly for the rest of your life!】 I locked my phone and immediately contacted my lawyer. 【Please get the divorce proceedings started for my mother.】 … The employees crowded around Pearl, their compliments flowing endlessly. I pushed my way through the throng. The moment she saw my face, the middle-aged woman standing protectively beside Pearl went pale. “Ahem, everyone get back to your desks! What does it look like, chatting during work hours!” The smiles vanished from the employees’ faces as they scattered like mice, muttering under their breath. “I thought we’d get a break with the Princess here, but why’s the boss’s wife on a warpath again?” Hearing them call another woman “the boss’s wife” sent a fresh wave of fury through me. My mother had no interest in the business, and I lived abroad. It seemed that in our absence, a new mistress had taken over the Shen household. Pearl looked annoyed. “Mom, I thought you were going to help me build my image so I could take over the company sooner. I wasn’t done showing off.” I laughed. “You want to take over my company?” Pearl shot me a venomous glare. “Obviously, this is my dad’s—” Before she could finish, the “boss’s wife” shoved her aside. “Shut your mouth and get back to work!” Then, the woman lowered her head, looking at me as if I were a ticking bomb, and forced a few words through her teeth. “We can talk about this outside.” Seeing the sweat beading on her forehead, I casually pulled out a chair and crossed my legs. “Why should we go outside? Is it because you know you’ve done something that can’t see the light of day?” The woman gasped, looking like she was about to faint. Her voice was pleading. “This… this is the office!” She reached out, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the office, away from the prying eyes. As she did, I got a clear look at the name tag on her chest. 【Rose Qin, Secretary to the General Manager】 Rose dragged me into an empty hallway and finally let out a long breath. “You must be Mr. Shen’s daughter, Cecilia. I’ve heard so much about you.” “I know I overstepped,” she began, her eyes welling up. “I was just worried my daughter would be bullied during her internship, so I let her pretend to be Mr. Shen’s daughter. Please, I’m begging you, don’t say anything. Let an old employee like me keep some dignity.” She looked so pitiful, like a desperate mother doing anything for her child. Too bad I didn’t believe a single word. Because hanging around her neck was the exact necklace I had sent to my mother not long ago. I hooked a finger under the deep, lustrous imperial jade, my eyes glinting with mockery. “It seems you’ve overstepped in more ways than one, Ms. Qin.” My mother was a princess who had been coddled with love her whole life. She cared nothing for business, only for her jewelry collection. This piece was something I had won at a high-stakes auction, and I had specifically asked my father to fly it back to her personally. My father had promised to deliver it to her, safe and sound. It seemed my leech of a father had long forgotten who my real mother was. I tightened my grip, the cord of the necklace digging a red line into Rose’s neck. Tears instantly streamed down her cheeks, making her look even more fragile. “Miss Shen, you must have misunderstood. I’m just a poor mother trying to do what’s best for my daughter.” I sneered and suddenly yanked harder. The cord snapped. Rose cried out in pain and stumbled to the floor. I didn’t spare her another glance. I contacted my lawyer. 【Get the divorce proceedings started for my mother.】 【You heard me. I’m making the decision.】 … I went home with the lawyer, who had rushed to meet me, and slapped the divorce papers down in front of my mother. She was completely bewildered. “Cecilia, are you insane? Your father and I have a wonderful relationship. Why would we get a divorce?” “Did your father cut your allowance? My sweet girl, don’t throw a tantrum. Here, take my card.” As my mother pushed her black card toward me, my lips trembled, and tears welled up in my eyes. My mother’s family had once been the wealthiest in New York. She grew up in a bubble, shielded from the ugliness of the world. How could I be the one to tell her about the disgusting things my father had done? Seeing me cry, she rushed to comfort me. As she bent over, a fake jade pendant slipped out from under her blouse. She saw me staring and gave me a reassuring smile, quickly tucking it away. “Your father said you picked this out especially for me. I love it so much, I wear it all the time.” In that moment, everything became clear. My mother has seen every treasure under the sun; how could she not recognize a fake? She must have known my father had swapped the gift, but thought I had been scammed, so she wore it happily to protect my feelings. The image of Rose flaunting the real necklace flashed in my mind. I didn’t hesitate any longer. “Mom, Dad’s having an affair.” “And not only that, his daughter is a year older than me.” The color drained from my mother’s face. Her eyes filled with tears. “Cecilia, do you have any idea what you’re saying?” I steeled myself and laid out a stack of photos. My mother picked up the first one. When she saw the brilliant necklace around Rose’s neck, her body went rigid. She looked at me, her face pale, before continuing. As she picked up the second photo, I sighed. “The girl in the picture, that’s their daughter, Pearl.” “If I hadn’t gone to the company today without telling you, I would have never known that there was already a new ‘Mrs. Shen’ and a ‘Princess’ in charge.” Tears streamed down her face as she reached for another photo. I gritted my teeth. “That’s a company share transfer agreement. The shares you trusted Dad with, the ones you gave him to manage, he handed them all over to his mistress and his illegitimate child.” My mother froze, her eyes scanning the document. The next page was a university acceptance letter. Seeing the name of the medical school, a flicker of realization crossed her face. The crying stopped, replaced by a grave expression. I gave a bitter laugh. “That’s right. I failed my college entrance exams and had to study abroad.” “But I did some digging today. It turns out I didn’t fail. It was James—that ungrateful leech—who swapped my scores with Pearl’s.” At my words, the sadness on my mother’s face hardened into a cold fury. She slammed her hand on the table. “That bastard! How dare he hurt my daughter!” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I had gambled correctly. At her age, my mother could forgive many things, but I would not tolerate having a backstabbing parasite for a father. If it was just about the affair, she might have hesitated. But learning he had stolen my future? That was unforgivable. I gently wiped away her tears. “What’s past is past. What matters is now.” “Mom, you inherited a multi-billion-dollar fortune from Grandpa, including several public companies. I suspect that while you’ve been hands-off, Dad has seized control of everything. That’s why he’s so brazenly bringing his mistress into the company.” I expected her to be anxious, but she just smiled knowingly. “Don’t worry, darling. The prenup is iron-clad. Everything I own, James was only managing. The moment we divorce, he has to give it all back.” “In that case,” I said, my voice turning to ice, “let’s make sure that unfaithful bastard loses everything and is ruined for life.” Just then, my phone buzzed incessantly. I realized the employee notification group I had muted was blowing up with 999+ messages. 【To celebrate the Princess’s successful onboarding and the company’s upcoming IPO, a grand banquet will be held at The Zenith Club! All employees and their families are cordially invited!】 【The boss is so generous! I heard the minimum spend there is two grand a person!】 【It’s all thanks to the Princess! Long live the Princess!】 Pearl herself made an appearance, dropping a dozen large cash-filled “red packets” into the chat. The compliments and fawning intensified. I watched the celebration with a cold smile. Just when I was wondering what to do next, James had the audacity to throw his illegitimate daughter an IPO welcoming party. Perfect. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I found James’s contact and sent him a message. 【Dad, I’m flying home today. Could you and Mom pick me up from the airport?】 He replied instantly. 【What are you doing back now?】 【I mean, is my baby girl homesick?】 【I’ll tell your mother right away and book her a flight to come see you. I’ll come visit after I finish up some things here. Be good, do some traveling, and take lots of pretty pictures for Daddy to show Mom, okay?】 I raised an eyebrow and showed the phone to my mother. She needed to see his true colors. She had already recovered from her initial shock and was now sitting at her vanity, picking up a custom-made makeup brush. She beckoned to me. “Come. Let’s get you ready.” “We’re going to pay a visit to your father… and his other family.” … The Zenith Club was buzzing with energy. At the entrance, a staff member stopped my mother and me. “Ladies, please step this way for a security check.” A security check for dinner? My mother and I exchanged a look of disbelief. Seeing our expressions, the staffer smiled. “Apologies, but this event is not only for the company’s IPO, but it’s also a welcoming party for the boss’s own daughter.” “Mr. Shen adores his daughter, Pearl. For her safety, everyone entering the restaurant must go through security.” My mother and I rolled our eyes in unison. The staffer saw our disdain and sniffed. “What’s with that look? Everyone at Shen Corp knows Mr. Shen has doted on his precious daughter since she was a baby. He even braided her hair and picked out her clothes himself!” My smile froze. When I was a baby and my mother was away, James had left me unattended in the bathtub. A maid found me unconscious, having nearly drowned. He promised to take me to the park but left me locked in a hot car in the middle of summer. A passerby had to call the police to get me out. He took me hiking, I fell down a ravine, and he went home without even noticing I was gone until my mother asked where I was. I used to tell myself he was just focused on work. But I was wrong. He wasn’t incapable of love. He just never loved me. My mother, sensing my distress, pulled me away, only for us to run into a group of people fawning over Rose. She was showing off a jade bracelet James had personally flown abroad to bid on for her. “My James knows I love these things. He spent eight million on it for me. He’s so thoughtful.” My mother raised a hand to her own bare neck, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips. “Don’t be sad, Cecilia. He loves taking care of people and buying them jewelry, doesn’t he?” “Today, I’m taking back everything I ever gave him. And I’m going to watch that ungrateful wolf meet his end.” I took my mother’s hand, and we found a quiet corner to wait. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a video call from James, who never, ever initiated contact. My heart leaped into my throat. I almost dropped my phone. Then I realized—I had just seen Rose. After I left, James must have been busy with the party preparations and hadn’t spoken to her yet. Now that everything was ready, she must have told him about our encounter. He suspected something was wrong. This was an interrogation. I looked at my mother for help, but she was perfectly calm. She simply smiled. “Follow me.” She led me through a winding corridor and, to my surprise, into a wine cellar. Pointing to the walls of wine and the foreign staff milling about, she said, “I thought this might happen, so I had some of my international staff wait nearby. Answer it. With James’s limited worldview, he won’t know the difference.” I let out a breath and answered the call. James’s greasy face filled the screen. “Sweetheart, where are you?” I held up the phone and did a 360-degree spin. “Wine tasting with some classmates. The signal isn’t great. What’s up?” I held the pose, pretending the video was frozen. On the other end, James frowned, scrutinizing every detail, before finally sighing in relief. I heard him mutter to someone off-screen. “I told you she was still abroad. Cecilia is such a mama’s girl; she would have told her mother immediately. There’s no way she came back without saying anything.” “Stop worrying and go get changed!” I was about to explode. The sheer audacity of this man, calling his real daughter to verify a lie for his mistress. My mother, having heard enough, ended the call and hurried me back to the banquet hall. By the time we returned, the party had already started. After a stunning fireworks display, a dapper James walked onto the stage, holding a beautifully dressed Pearl by the hand. To thunderous applause, they shared a heartfelt hug. James looked at Pearl as if she were a precious jewel. “My daughter, Pearl. Her name says it all. She is the pearl of my eye.” “Today, here, in front of all our dear partners and loyal employees, I am officially introducing the pearl of my eye to you all!” “As you know, the pharmaceutical company under my name is about to go public. And my daughter is a brilliant graduate from a top medical university. I hereby announce that I am gifting this company to my daughter, Pearl, as a symbol of my love and devotion. I hope that under my protection, her future will always be a path of ease and success!” The entire audience was moved by his passionate display of fatherly love, erupting in wild applause. After the applause died down, I slipped through the crowd, leaped onto the stage, snatched the microphone, and smiled at James. “Dad, before you give my mother’s company to your illegitimate daughter, shouldn’t you ask for my opinion?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386948”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My sister is dead. Her body was laid to rest months ago, but today I received a text message from her phone. The message contained just three rules: “Watch out for anyone wearing red.” “The food Mom makes is safe to eat, but if you find teeth, nails, hair, or other things in it, do not tell Mom.” “Be home by 10 PM. Once inside, you must be in bed immediately!” 1 I was utterly creeped out. The message was absurd yet full of dire warnings. My sister died, and her phone was supposedly tucked away in a box under her bed as a keepsake. So how did it just send me a text? A cold dread washed over me. Unless… this was a delayed message my sister set up before she died. “Jessie, come and eat dinner.” My dad’s voice suddenly called out. He was sitting on the living room sofa, waving me over. “Dad.” I hesitated, then asked: “Did you guys touch my sister’s phone after she died?” The mention of my sister made my dad frown. His expression was strange. “What did you say?” I bit the bullet: “My sister sent me a text.” “A text? What did it say? Let me see.” Before I could react, my dad stood up and snatched my phone. A few seconds later, a faint smile appeared on his face. “Someone must have stolen your sister’s number. You don’t need to worry.” “You really don’t need to worry.” My dad repeated the phrase like a broken record. Then, he smiled, picked up the fork from the coffee table, and violently stabbed himself in the throat! His suicide was sudden, decisive, and done with incredible force. The metal tines pierced his throat. “Dad!” I screamed, rushing toward him. Bright red blood poured from my dad’s throat. He slumped onto the sofa, the faint smile still plastered on his face. “What’s wrong?” My mom walked in from the kitchen when she heard the noise. The moment I saw her, my pupils constricted. My mom… she was wearing a red dress! Yet, she always hated the color red; she didn’t even allow red items in the house. ‘Watch out for anyone wearing red.’ The message flashed in my mind again. Cold sweat prickled my back. I instantly felt wary and defensive toward my mom. “Why is your father dead?” My mom’s face showed no sign of grief, and her voice was completely flat. It was as if the person who died wasn’t her husband, but a stray cat. “I don’t know.” I kept my guard up, shaking my head. “Dad called me for dinner. When I came out, he had already stabbed himself.” Investigators arrived quickly. They were dressed bizarrely. They were men, yet they wore blood-red, ankle-length dresses. My mom claimed my dad was stressed and suffered from severe depression, leading to suicide. She was lying! My dad wasn’t depressed! He told me this morning that he was taking me swimming this weekend! I blurted out: “That’s not true! Dad he…” “He what?” The investigator stopped writing, twisting his head to look at me. I gasped, my heart hammering against my ribs! The investigator’s appearance had warped. His face was stretched long, his eyes were far apart, near his temples—as alien and sudden as a snake’s head. “Why aren’t you speaking?” His head remained still, but his ominous, jaundiced eyes slid sideways, watching me. “Please continue to elaborate!” 2 “My dad… he was indeed very depressed. He often wanted to kill himself.” I forced the words out. The investigator nodded impassively, zipped my dad’s body into a bag, and wheeled him downstairs. Their movement when lifting the body was a strange, horizontal glide. As they turned the corner on the stairs, I saw a large, greasy-looking tail poking out from beneath one of the red skirts. My eyes widened. My breath was shallow, and my hands and feet started shaking uncontrollably. The world had fractured. From the moment I received that text from my dead sister, the world had become alien and grotesque. “Dinner time soon. I need to get your sister’s meal ready.” My mom turned and headed back to the kitchen. Through the doorway, I saw her hunched over a cutting board, violently chopping meat with a cleaver. The meat didn’t look like pork. It had thin skin, no visible fat, and a grayish-white color, like it had been frozen for too long. Thump, thump, thump. The sound of the chopping was deafening. I covered my ears and bolted out the front door. It looked like rain; the sky was a dull gray. People were strolling around the neighborhood. Some were walking their dogs, some watering plants, and others playing hopscotch. But, without exception, they were all wearing red clothes. As I passed them, a wave of sheer terror washed over me. These people looked like they were minding their own business. But their eyes were tracking me. Every move I made, their eyes followed! The little girl playing hopscotch was the worst; she was hunched over, leaning forward, but her face was twisted almost 180 degrees to stare at me! Cold sweat poured down my spine; I was shaking all over. “Sis, what are you doing?” Suddenly, a bright, clear voice called out. My younger sister, Lily, was walking toward me, carrying her long-braided doll backpack. “It’s getting dark. Why aren’t you going home?” I quickly looked at Lily. She wasn’t wearing red; she had on a white princess dress. I exhaled in relief. “Dad died, and Mom is acting strange.” Lily’s face instantly went paper-white. “Did Dad see the text message?” My eyes widened. “How do you know?” “My sister sent me a message, too.” Lily raised her arm and tapped her smartwatch a few times. The tiny screen displayed a message. “When Dad sees the message I sent you two, he will surely kill himself.” “His death is punishment for breaking a rule.” “If you don’t follow the rules, you will definitely die too!” Rules? Were the three sentences in my sister’s text message the key to survival? My heart dropped. I urgently asked, “What time is it right now?” Lily looked confused. She backed out of the text screen. The main watch face showed 9:59. “Run!” I screamed, grabbing Lily’s hand and sprinting toward our apartment building. My sister’s final rule emphasized: we must be home before 10 PM and immediately get into bed! We live on the third floor. If we ran fast enough, we could make it in time. But after only two flights of stairs, my feet felt like lead; every step was agonizingly difficult. “Lily, why are you so heavy?” I turned back and saw a horrifying sight. The doll on Lily’s back had turned into a bloody, raw baby’s face! 3 “What’s wrong, Sis?” Lily looked up at me, clearly bewildered. “Nothing! Let’s just run!” I turned my head, ignoring the wrinkled baby’s face. “Ah!” Lily suddenly shrieked. In my peripheral vision, I saw the infant clinging to her back, aggressively biting her shoulder. Lily’s white dress turned red as blood dripped onto the concrete stairs. I knew this grotesque infant was trying to stop my sister and me from getting home. “It hurts so much.” Lily threw off my hand. She crouched down, clutching her shoulder in agony. “I can’t run anymore!” “No!” My nerves were stretched taut. I screamed at Lily: “If we don’t run, we’ll die!” “It really hurts, Sis. It hurts so much I feel like I’ll die if I move.” Lily shook her head, gasping for breath. I frantically looked up at our apartment, only one flight of stairs away. The apartment lights were off. The red front door was open, an incomprehensibly deep black hole. “Sis, you go first.” Lily cried, twisting her shoulder, trying to dislodge the thing on her back. But the infant seemed welded to her skin. It wouldn’t let go. “Stop wasting time!” I raised my hand and, for the first time ever, slapped my sister across the face. Lily flinched, then stood up, her eyes red, and pushed me away. I fell to the floor, scraping my palms on the cement. The pain ignited my fury. I didn’t waste another word, hauling her up by her arm and forcing her to run. Dad was dead, Mom was changed. I desperately didn’t want my only sister to die too. As we reached the third floor, the hallway light flickered on. The dim light illuminated our doorway, faintly revealing a pair of feet wearing a red dress. The feet were pressed together, bare, with startlingly white, almost goat-like skin. I gritted my teeth, dragged my sister inside, and rushed into the apartment. Click. The house lights turned on. Under the harsh, blinding light, Mom stood there in a red dress, barefoot, holding a plate with an impassive expression. She spoke, her lips barely moving: “Time to eat.” The plate held slices of meat, pale white, piled high. “Mom, we need to go to sleep.” I pulled Lily toward our bedroom. Lying on the soft bed, I tightly shut my eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. Fortunately, in the final minute, we followed the text message rule: we got inside and lay in bed. I now completely believed in the rules. Because once we were home, I saw that the biting infant on Lily’s back had turned back into the harmless, braided doll. Lily’s shoulder was completely unmarked; there was no wound or blood. “Sis…” Lily whispered my name shortly after lying down. I quickly put my finger over her lips, making a ‘shushing’ gesture. Lily went silent. I took her hand and wrote on her palm: ‘Remember Big Sister’s text!’ The third rule was: ‘Be home by 10 PM. Once inside, you must be in bed immediately!’ If we just slept, as the rule instructed, we would be safe tonight. Then, a sickening, grinding sound started up. I knew that sound. When I used to eat Mom’s braised chicken feet, I’d snap the bones, letting them break through the skin, then eat the boneless foot. But this sound of bone and tissue tearing was loud and jarring. It sounded like human bone separation… Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I tightly clutched Lily’s hand, unable to relax. “Sis.” Lily spoke again, her voice hoarse, filled with fear and pain: “My watch is one minute behind standard time.” My heart dropped. That meant we hadn’t gotten home on time. So, was the horrifying noise I was hearing now the punishment for breaking the rule? No! No, the punishment wouldn’t be that mild. Because Lily’s hand bones were gone. I had just been holding her hand, but the bones in her palm had suddenly vanished. Her hand felt soft and rubbery, like a plastic glove filled with warm water. Filled with absolute terror, I frantically felt her stomach, arms, shoulders… Everywhere was the same. There were no hard bones beneath her skin. I opened my eyes in panic. Lying next to me was a corpse. A body completely drained of bone, looking like a human-shaped skin suit filled with water, soft and slack on the bed. It was my sister. She was no longer beautiful. Her face had melted like quicksand, erasing her features, looking twisted and utterly decomposed. “Sis.” Lily desperately forced her eyes open. The melted skin finally separated into a thin, black slit. It was her dark pupil. She mumbled something indistinct: “Don’t… believe…” Before she could finish, thud. A sharp crack echoed. The flower-shaped ceiling lamp crashed down. It landed squarely on Lily’s head. Red blood and white brain matter splattered all over me… 4 I screamed hysterically and blacked out. When I woke up again, Lily’s body was gone. The room was pristine, free of any blood. I didn’t even have any horrible, bloody stench on me. I looked up. The lamp was hanging exactly where it should be on the ceiling. Only Lily was missing. I stared at the lamp, feeling a bizarre sense of confusion. Lily and I had both gone to bed at 10:01 PM. Why was Lily dead, but I was still alive? After a long period of thought, I realized that the time specified in the final rule wasn’t objective time, but the time we subconsciously accepted based on a clock. I always believed I got home at 10 PM, so I was spared. But Lily was aware of the delay; she felt guilty. Therefore, the invisible hand of the rules extracted her bones and killed her. Suddenly, a strong aroma of roasted meat drifted in. The smell came from the kitchen. I stumbled out of bed and saw my mom with her back to me, using tongs to flip slices of meat in a frying pan. Her long black hair was loose. She was still barefoot, and her toenails were painted with red polish. But thankfully, she was wearing a white dress now, just like Lily’s. “Your sister is dead.” My mom said it without turning around. It was as if she had eyes on the back of her head. I tightly clutched the doorknob, afraid to get too close. “How did she die?” “You should know very well.” My mom turned around, looking directly at me. Her face was strange. Her eyes were red and swollen, like she had been crying in pain over Lily’s death for a long time. But starkly contrasting that grief, her lips were painted with bright red lipstick. “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I was asleep. I don’t know how Lily died.” My mom’s expression turned sorrowful. She said, word for word: “The light fell and crushed her head.” The image of the blood and brains splattering my face flooded my mind. My fingers, gripping the doorknob, began to tremble uncontrollably. “Lily died, but why is there no blood on the bed? Why is there no sign that anyone died here?” “You slept for two days. I cleaned everything up so you wouldn’t be upset when you woke up.” My mom paused. She suddenly reached out and touched my head. “You’ve slept for two days. Are you hungry? Go sit in the living room. I’ll bring you dinner.” Her palm wasn’t cold; it was warm. The touch on my head made my nose sting. I wanted to cry. In one day, I had lost my dad and my sister. Her affectionate touch felt like the familiar, loving mom I knew was back. “Silly child. Go wash your hands and get ready to eat.” My mom patted me gently. I went to the bathroom and turned on the faucet. The moment the water hit my hands, my eyes narrowed sharply. My mom lied! I hadn’t been asleep for two days! In fact, I might have only slept for a few minutes! The scrape on my palm from falling after Lily pushed me was still beading blood! But Lily died. How could my mom have cleaned the room in mere minutes? A more terrifying thought struck me. I only slept for a few minutes. That means I hadn’t followed my sister’s final rule. After 10 PM, I had not stayed in bed!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386964”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The famous movie star posted a tribute to her deceased lover, and my five-year-old son called the police on her. “If you’re building a persona of a heartbroken lover, why are you posting my Daddy’s picture?” Chloe Wood’s eyes were red as she explained, “It’s not marketing. That’s a picture of my deceased fiancé.” The photo showed me at eighteen. She didn’t love me then. She said I was the person she hated most. Now, she used a sentimental soundtrack with my picture, captioning it: [Six years gone since I lost my fiancé. I’ll never see your face again.] Everyone praised her devotion, envying me for being loved by her even in death. My son’s cheeks puffed up, and he yelled fiercely: “That is my Daddy! He is not dead! You can’t see your lover’s face, so you decided to publicly cremate my Daddy online, didn’t you?” 1 “Daddy, Baby needs to ask you something.” My five-year-old son, Ethan, suddenly ran up to me. His plump, red lips were pursed, and he said seriously: “Confess honestly and you’ll be treated leniently. Resist and you’ll be punished severely, got it?” I paused, slightly stunned. I rubbed his cheek, annoyed. “What good baby treats his Daddy like a criminal? You’re being too presumptuous, little man.” He batted my hand away, his small face serious and fierce, like a tiny adult. “Daddy, be serious! Answer the question honestly.” “Are you sick? Really sick, and you’re hiding it from me?” I stiffened. I wondered why the little guy was suddenly asking this. Ethan saw my reaction and assumed he had figured out my secret. He has a beautiful, sculpted face, a natural birthmark on his forehead, making him look like a picture-perfect cherub. He looked at me, pouting, his eyes glistening. “Don’t pretend, Daddy. I know everything.” I was completely dumbfounded. What did this little guy know? Was he just quoting something abstract he saw online? 2 He pulled a few sheets of paper from behind his back and slapped them onto the table. “You brought these papers home from the doctor, didn’t you?” “You thought hiding them in the drawer would work? Daddy, you underestimate me.” I realized they were the test results I got yesterday. He thought I was sick. Before I could speak, Ethan put his hands on his hips, his cheeks puffed up with indignation. “Baby’s little eyes might not read, but you can’t treat me like an idiot.” “These papers are exactly like the ones you got when you took me to the doctor when I was sick.” “So many papers! You must have a serious, serious illness.” As he spoke, his long lashes fluttered, and tears instantly sprang up. He wiped his face with a chubby hand, collapsing. “Daddy, what kind of awful illness do you have?” “Tell Baby! Baby can handle it…” The little guy was sobbing so hard my heart was breaking. I immediately pulled him into my arms, comforting him gently. “My Baby, don’t cry. Listen to Daddy.” “Daddy just went for a check-up. The doctor didn’t say I was sick.” The little guy stopped crying immediately, pearl-like tears clinging to his lashes. “Really? Daddy, we’re father and son. You can’t lie to me.” I nodded, assuring him I wasn’t lying. 3 In truth, I had gone to the hospital because I was in too much pain to work. It was late, and I hadn’t finished all the necessary tests. I needed to go back today. The doctor’s expression had been grim, leaving me deeply unsettled. My babysitter, Alex, arrived then. I hired him because of my work schedule; he’s newly graduated, cheerful, and Ethan loves him. Seeing Ethan’s damp lashes, Alex asked gently: “What happened? Did our Baby cry?” Ethan nodded, explaining vividly: “Yes. I was just playing a game of ‘abstract truth’ and scared myself.” Alex and I both laughed. I told Alex: “Stay with Ethan. I need to go out.” I started packing my things, planning to go to the hospital before returning to work. It was strange; Alex kept staring at me, as if there was something on my face. Suddenly, he asked: “Jay, do you know the movie star, Chloe Wood? Or rather, do you know her dead lover?” I froze, feeling uncomfortable. “Why?” Alex pulled out his phone. “Chloe Wood posted a picture of her deceased lover last night, and he looks exactly like you.” I lowered my gaze and saw the picture of myself. My mind instantly went blank. The caption felt incredibly piercing. After a long silence, I blinked, pulling my gaze away. I gave a faint smile. “No, I don’t know her. It must be a coincidence.” 4 While waiting for my test results, I scrolled through social media. I found a gossip account: [Movie Star Chloe Wood posts a memorial for her fiancé who died six years ago. The emotional music, coupled with her reply to a fan saying she regrets not loving him more, is truly heartbreaking.] [A fan commented that the photo looked familiar. Chloe replied: ‘Impossible. I watched him get cremated.’] [I thought she hadn’t found love yet, but she was already tragically bereaved. I feel so much sympathy for her grief.] I opened the comment section. I was stunned. [After you left, this world is your will, and I am your sole legacy… So touching. The man Chloe loves must have been so happy.] [I’m so jealous of that guy. She still loves him even though he’s dead.] [You can see how much Chloe loves him. I envy them.] [Ugh, I wish I were that man. I’d be happy even if I lived to a hundred, had billions in assets, and was feasting every day.] [That little jerk had good luck. Chloe still loves him six years after he died.] I stopped reading and scrolled down. The next post was Chloe’s. The photo showed me at eighteen. I had been madly in love with Chloe then. I pursued her relentlessly. But she didn’t love me, saying I was the person she hated most. Now, she used a sentimental soundtrack with my picture, captioning it: [Six years gone since I lost my fiancé. I’ll never see your face again.] In the comments, a local user wrote: [The photo looks familiar. I think I saw him a few days ago.] Chloe replied: [Impossible. I watched him get cremated.] Another user: [You must have loved him so much.] Chloe replied: [My greatest regret is not loving him properly back then.] I never imagined the person I had desperately pursued in my youth would say she loved me six years after my “death.” Was I sad? Happy? Or was it… ironic? 5 I stood alone after leaving the doctor’s office. I looked at the bustling crowds of patients, my mind blank. I felt confusion, helplessness, and a profound powerlessness against fate. My head was pounding, and my emotions were at a breaking point. I slowly crouched, leaning against the wall, hugging my knees, and crying softly. I kept asking myself: What do I do? What should I do? And Ethan… he’s only five. He’s still so young. Suddenly, I heard Ethan’s voice. I looked up, following the sound. A young man nearby was watching a video on his phone and had paused on Ethan. “You’re so pure, you’re 1080P. You mourn your dead lover, but you cremated my Daddy online…” Hearing that, I instantly sobered up and grabbed my phone. A pop-up notification appeared: [You follow EthanTheDaddy’sBoy. New update…] My little guy loves watching videos and often films himself doing daily things. Alex helps him share them on his account. The little guy now has 200,000 followers and is starting to get ad deals. He always shows me his videos, demanding I read the comments. When he gets an ad, he puffs up proudly and says: “Daddy, Baby is earning money with his face now. Isn’t that amazing?” 6 I clicked the notification. The video opened. The next second, I saw Ethan’s cheeks puffed up, his small brow furrowed in anger: “Aunties, Baby isn’t playing games today. This is very serious.” “Movie Star Chloe Wood, why did you post my Daddy’s picture to mourn your dead lover?” “I’m asking you. You’re a movie star, you’re so pure, you’re 1080P. You mourn your dead lover, but you cremated my Daddy online. That is so rude.” Ethan’s small, red lips trembled. He pointed at the camera, threatening fiercely: “My Daddy went to work this morning. Why did you watery-eyed people cremate him this afternoon?” “Whether you’re marketing a deep devotion persona or playing abstract, I called the police! You wait for jail!” The video ended there. Posted two hours ago. I was stunned. I immediately called Alex. He answered quickly. “Alex, where are you?” Alex spoke slowly: “Jay, we’re… at the police station.” “Ethan saw the gossip video, insisted Chloe’s photo was you, and called the police… The police officer has summoned Chloe. Jay, maybe you should come down?” My mind went blank. Then I blurted out: “Okay, I’m on my way.” I quickly packed my diagnostic report and left the hospital for the police station.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386980”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The memorial service my best friend arranged was utterly destroyed. Trolls swarmed the funeral home, livestreaming with their phones. “Serves her right,” they chanted. The comment section flooded with messages: Is she really dead this time? My ex-husband and his lover celebrated on a yacht for a week straight, champagne in hand. It seemed everyone believed I deserved to die early. Until one day, my diary was made public. And everyone finally learned the truth. That in my entire life, I had only been happy for a single, fleeting moment. 1. On the talk show, the host suddenly veered off-topic. “Rick, Mr. Brown. Your ex-wife recently passed away from an illness. How did that make you feel?” Rick Brown, the A-list actor, just scoffed. “I felt nothing. I heard her memorial service was trashed. Good.” The host smiled, lowering his gaze. “You don’t mind if we talk about your ex-wife, do you? After all, her death is a very hot topic right now.” If he were trying to capitalize on anyone else’s death, the backlash would have been merciless. But it was my death. And no one online cared. “Ask whatever you want,” Rick said. “I’m curious,” the host began. “Everyone says Zara Hale was a terrible person. So why did you two get married in the first place?” The superstar fell silent. He probably couldn’t remember why himself. The host chuckled. “Well, as it happens, we have a copy of Ms. Hale’s diary right here. You wouldn’t mind if we shared it with everyone, would you?” Rick smirked. “A high school dropout? Did she even know how to write? Go ahead. I couldn’t care less.” But when the slightly worn diary was opened for the cameras, a hush fell over the studio. The handwriting was neat and elegant, not at all what you’d expect from the madwoman the media had painted me as. “Well then,” the host said with a smile, “allow me to read.” 2. October 3rd, 2020 I’m getting married today! And who’s the groom? My Rick, of course. Who else would I ever want to marry? And who else would he ever dare to marry? If he tried, I’d tear him limb from limb. We’ve been together for six years. Today, I finally married the boy I fell in love with when I was eighteen. Oh, Diary, you should have seen how nervous Rick was when he put the ring on my finger. The tips of his ears turned bright red, and his eyes weltered up immediately. It’s true what they say… a man’s tears can make a woman’s heart soar. Seriously, I couldn’t stop smiling. But, Diary, I’m not afraid to tell you the truth. Later, when Rick was drunk and collapsed into my arms, I was the one who cried even harder. He whispered in my ear, “Zara, I love you. I love you so, so much.” “Thank you for being my wife.” Honestly, I’m the one who should be thanking him. Because of him, for the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged somewhere. At the wedding, Rick’s mom gave me a hug. As she held me, my nose started to sting. It was the first time an elder had ever hugged me. So, this is what a mother’s love feels like. Growing up in an orphanage, I never knew what a hug was. For us orphans, it didn’t matter how good you were; no one was going to hug you. When we cried, we just lay on the mats on the floor until we stopped. At school, our teachers always said we were such well-behaved kids. The truth is, we learned early on that crying got you nothing. And just being quiet never earned you a hug. So, we learned to hide what we felt. It wasn’t until I met Rick that I learned I could just be myself. And he would still love me. Now, Rick and I finally have a home. We’re broke, sure. But things will get better. I told him, “This is the happiest moment of my life.” He held me tight, his voice thick with emotion. “What do you mean, the happiest? From now on, every day will be happy.” Getting married is the best. I have someone to share my life with. I have a family. I’m not alone anymore. P.S. Here’s a wedding photo. It’s small, only a 5×7. I’m wearing a twenty-dollar tulle skirt I bought on Amazon, and Rick’s in the only decent suit he owns. Our clothes are simple, but our smiles are the brightest you’ve ever seen. Rick promised me. When he makes it big. He’ll take me to the beaches of Bali for a proper wedding photoshoot. The host finished reading and took a deep breath. No one had expected that I, the venomous villain, could have shared memories like these with Rick. The words on the page were playful, sweet. Anyone could see how happy I was back then. There’s nothing more devastating than a love that’s expired. Rick stared, stunned, for a long moment. Those memories had been buried for so long. Back then, marrying me had felt like the greatest victory of his life. He had forgotten all of it. The viewers were confused, too. This was nothing like the vicious Zara Hale they knew. “Reading this, she just sounds like a normal girl in love.” “It’s gotta be fake. That handwriting doesn’t look like hers.” “So she was an orphan. No wonder she had no class.” The host turned to Rick. “Mr. Brown, it sounds like you two were very happy when you got married.” Rick seemed to snap out of his trance, a bitter, self-mocking smile twisting his lips. “She used to be a good person, yes. But you can never truly know what’s in someone’s heart.” The host smiled thinly. “Perhaps. Let’s move on to the second page, shall we?” “Honestly, I’m quite curious myself to see what happened to turn Ms. Hale into the monster everyone despises.” 3. January 6th, 2021 Sorry for ignoring you, Diary. I’ve been busy working as an extra. But I need to ramble today. How do people make a lot of money? What if I started spending ten dollars a day on a lottery ticket? A meal on set costs ten dollars. If I skip dinner, I can save that much. What if I actually won? I know I shouldn’t be fantasizing about winning the lottery, Diary. But I’m just so broke. I can’t ask Rick for money, though. He’s already under so much pressure. He’s filming late into the night, every night. And during the day, he takes on freelance editing jobs to make extra cash. He’s so exhausted, but he always pretends to be fine, telling me, “Don’t worry, baby, I’m not tired.” It breaks my heart. I’ll figure something out on my own. Attached photo: Rick’s perfect sleeping face. Something to look at when the days feel hopeless~ The host paused. “Mr. Brown, I have to ask. Did you know Zara was so desperate for money at this time?” Rick shook his head. “I was her husband. If she needed money and didn’t tell me, it must have been for something shameful.” “Then again,” he added with a sneer, “it’s no surprise, considering all the disgusting things she did later.” “She’d do anything for money. It’s pathetic.” The host sighed and continued reading. 4. January 10th, 2021 Diary. My best friend is dead. We spent more than a decade together in the orphanage. And now she’s gone. All because we couldn’t scrape together five thousand dollars. I told her I’d find a way. I told her to just hold on. I would have delivered food, done anything to get the money for her treatment. But while I was on set, she pulled out her own oxygen tube. She left me a voice recording. “Zara,” she said, “we were abandoned as kids. Most of us aren’t very healthy. I’m just happy I made it to 25.” “Don’t be sad for me. Maybe in heaven, I’ll finally get to meet the parents who threw me away.” “I’ve got a bone to pick with them.” “You and Rick need to be happy together.” “And hey, remember to get regular check-ups. People like us can’t afford to get sick.” I cried until I couldn’t breathe. We were so close. If she had just waited a little longer, maybe I could have earned it. Diary. Why is life so unfair? Today on set, I heard the producers gave the lead actress several handbags that were each worth over five thousand dollars. A single handbag could have saved my friend’s life. Writing this reminds me of something. When I was little, I had another friend at the orphanage. Her name was beautiful, Maeve. She had a round face, and when she smiled, her eyes curved into beautiful crescent moons. Compared to the rest of us, she just radiated life. She was so bright that when she was eight, a wealthy family adopted her. I was so happy for her when we said goodbye. But a year later, she came back. She was so much thinner. And she never smiled anymore. Worst of all, she couldn’t speak. She wrote on a piece of paper and told me what had happened. She had been subjected to unspeakable abuse for a year. Her adoptive parents were afraid she would tell someone. So they cut out her tongue. I ran to the director of the orphanage, trying to get help, but he beat me half to death. He had taken money from that family to keep quiet. Maeve… she killed herself not long after that. And now my other friend is gone, too. There aren’t many of us left from the orphanage. Diary, I want so badly to tell Rick all of this. But when I look into his tired, smiling eyes… I just can’t. I’ll wait until things get better. I don’t want to be another burden for him. Goodnight, Diary. I hope I wake up to news about my audition. The host’s voice trembled as he read. Online comments flooded in. “So she needed the money for her friend.” “Forget that, what the hell kind of orphanage is that? Someone needs to investigate.” “This feels like a PR stunt to make her look good. But you can tell she was just a jealous person, getting angry over a five-thousand-dollar bag.” The host sighed and looked at Rick. “Mr. Brown, did you know your wife needed five thousand dollars?” “You were both 25 by then. Did you really not have that much in savings?” Rick’s pupils constricted. His mouth moved, but no sound came out at first. “That year… we had saved ten thousand dollars together. I had promised her I’d buy her a gold bracelet…” “But… at the end of the year, my mom got really sick.” “It took every penny we had…” “After that… she never mentioned the bracelet again, and I never bought it.” Rick’s voice grew quieter as he lowered his eyes. The comment section exploded. “So you’re telling me Zara gave all her savings for her mother-in-law’s treatment, and then had nothing left for herself?” “What are you talking about? When you’re married, you’re family.” “If she’d had that gold bracelet, maybe she could have sold it and saved her friend.” The truth is, Rick didn’t tell the whole story. His mother had insurance, which covered most of the medical bills. When the reimbursement check came, I didn’t see a cent of it. When my friend got sick, I gathered my courage and asked my mother-in-law for help. I offered to borrow the money, but she just ridiculed me. “Marrying you was the greatest charity we could offer.” “And you have the audacity to ask me for money?” “You’re an orphan. You have no one to stand up for you.” I stood there, frozen. My ears were ringing. The woman who, at my wedding, had promised to treat me like her own daughter, was now looking at me with pure contempt. We never had a real wedding, just a small gathering of friends and family. I didn’t get any jewelry, no dowry. And in the end, I didn’t even get respect. I learned later. Once a wife moves in, everyone’s true colors come out. Especially a wife with no one in her corner. The pain that never made it into my diary was far greater than anything Rick knew. 5. The host gave a bitter smile, tinged with sarcasm. “So, the reason Zara had no money was because she gave it all to pay for your mother’s medical bills, correct?” The question was sharp. The online comments devolved into a screaming match. Some people were starting to realize something was wrong. The feed was scrolling too fast to read. Rick’s face stiffened. He unconsciously tugged at his tie. “That’s right. And if she hadn’t… if she hadn’t done all those disgusting things later, I would have paid her back, of course.” His voice grew louder, more self-righteous with each word. The host just smiled. “Is that so?” “Then I’ll keep reading.” “Let’s see how Zara ‘changed.’” 6. May 20th, 2021 Diary! I have great news. I passed my audition! I got the role of the fourth female lead in the big-budget production, Veil of Smoke! It’s my first time in a major production! But when I went to share the happy news with Rick… I found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his face clouded with worry. When he saw me, his expression turned guilty. “Zara… we were supposed to make a down payment on a house next month. I don’t think we can anymore.” “I failed another audition. They wouldn’t even take me for a supporting role.” “I think… I think I’ll have to go back to being an extra.” His eyes were red, filled with uncertainty about the future. In that moment, I remembered four years ago. When we first broke into the industry. His eyes were full of stars, burning with passion for what was to come. Now, failure was extinguishing that fire. My heart ached for him. I wrapped my arms around him and told him everything would be okay. The news about my own successful audition stayed locked inside me. Maybe the house we wanted wasn’t that great anyway. Maybe my role wasn’t as good as I thought. Maybe something better was just around the corner. I never doubted my Rick. He’s so talented. Sooner or later, he’ll be the brightest star of them all. As the host read this entry, the screen filled with question marks. Rick’s expression froze. Because everyone knew. The actress who became a star playing the fourth female lead in Veil of Smoke wasn’t me. There had been rumors that I was originally cast, but everyone had laughed them off, assuming it was just a story I had paid to have planted in the tabloids. No one had ever imagined. I had been so close to making it. 7. May 25th, 2021 Veil of Smoke is about to start filming, but the actor cast as the fourth male lead was just exposed in a scandal. A lightbulb went off in my head. My Rick. Maybe this was his chance. I stayed up all night putting together a reel of his best performances, and first thing in the morning, I sent it to the director. Diary, you have no idea how nervous I was. The moment I hit ‘send,’ my whole body was shaking. That same day, Rick got a call for an audition. But after he finished… The director pulled me aside. He looked uncomfortable. “Zara, we’re very impressed with Rick, the actor you recommended.” “But… you and Rick are with the same agency. And as you know, for a hit show like this, the number of slots per agency is strictly limited.” “Your agency only gets one actor in this show.” He looked at me, his gaze heavy. “To be honest, the reason I’m asking you is because I think you’re the more talented one.” Diary. What was the director even talking about? Was this even a choice? Of course I gave the role to Rick. I’m talented. I’ll get another chance. But my Rick… he needed this confidence boost more than I did. When Rick found out he got the part, he picked me up and spun me around and around. My Rick was back. When he’s happy, I’m happy. Hearing this, Rick’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s impossible… my role… how could it…” The internet went into a meltdown. “HOLY S**T, RICK’S CAREER TOOK OFF BECAUSE OF VEIL OF SMOKE.” “Wait, so the key point is, Rick’s big break only happened because Zara gave up her spot for him?” “This has to be fake. I’m going to go dig up the old gossip threads right now.” The host looked at Rick. “Mr. Brown, is there anything you’d like to say now?” Rick’s throat worked, but it was a long moment before he could speak. “She… she really was a good person back then. But…” He didn’t finish the sentence. But I knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to say: But what happened to you? How did you change? 8. June 13th, 2022 Diary. Am I being too sensitive? Veil of Smoke was a massive hit. Rick became a star overnight playing the fourth male lead. His character in the show was just so perfect. His tragic, unrequited love for the fourth female lead made countless viewers cry their eyes out. A lot of people started ‘shipping’ them in real life. I’ll admit, even I shipped them when I was watching. But… seeing Rick and Delilah working so hard to sell their fake relationship… I still got a little jealous. Oh, well. I’m a generous person. I’m not going to get mad. After all, if Rick is famous… I’m even happier. Oh, and Diary! I’m auditioning for the second female lead in a small web series tomorrow. Wish me luck! Attached news clipping: “Hmph. Rick is smiling so sweetly at Delilah in this picture.” “If he doesn’t smile at me that sweetly from now on, he’s going to get an earful.” 9. June 14th, 2022 Diary! Today was an amazing day! I passed my audition! I’m the second female lead in Dream’s Darkest Shore! The second lead! I have so many scenes! I was going to tell Rick the Cabbage first. But he’s been secretly having dinner with Delilah behind my back. Attached photo: Paparazzi shot of the two of them. One looking shy, the other’s ears bright red. They look so perfect together! Hmph. A man who doesn’t respect himself… Is like a rotten cabbage. I’m not going to be the one to tell Rick the Cabbage my good news. He can see it for himself when the studio makes the official announcement. Although… If he explains himself today… Maybe I’ll tell him. Fine, I’ll give him three days. After the host finished, the tide of public opinion began to turn. “Okay, does anyone else find this really cute?” “Am I the only one who finds this heartbreaking? They were so sweet back then. How did it end with them never speaking again?” “She’s faking it.” Rick stared at the screen, lost in a daze. He had never realized. Back then, I had really, truly loved him so much.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386996”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I’ve been a ghost for ten years. A streamer found the photo I cherished most and launched a viral campaign across the internet: “#FindLiam.” When I saw him again, he was about to get married. I wanted to disappear so badly… But once I really did vanish, he ended up living a life of solitude until the bitter end. When he died, he was still clutching that half-burnt photo. 1 I died the night the psychiatric hospital caught fire. Because the building was a labyrinth, a lot of patients couldn’t make it out. We died in the flames. Since then, I’ve been haunting the hospital. At first, I had some company. Other ghosts stuck here. Later, they all faded away. I was the only one left guarding the ruins. I couldn’t stray far from the grounds, so I spent my days sitting by the window, killing time. I watched the sunset more times than I could count. Way more than forty-four times. Ten years passed like this. The hospital turned into a ruin. Weeds grew tall, thorns wrapped around the broken walls, and wild roses bloomed over the wreckage. The locals said the place was haunted. They told kids there was a female ghost who ate children, warning them to stay away or she’d snatch them. Total BS! I’ve never eaten anyone! And I definitely wouldn’t kidnap a kid! … One day, a girl showed up talking to her phone. “Hey guys, it’s your girl Chloe here. We’re at the legendary Whispering Hill Asylum. It’s been abandoned for a decade after a massive fire killed twenty-seven people. Rumor has it the youngest victim was only eighteen. The director went to jail for it. Tonight, we’re gonna see if the ghosts are real.” I leaned on her shoulder, peering at her phone. I realized what she was doing. She was livestreaming! Locals did this sometimes to make money. She shivered dramatically. “Even after ten years, you can see how intense the fire was. The walls are still black…” She walked and talked until she reached my old room. After scanning the pitch-black room, her eyes landed on a corner of the wall. Chloe crouched down and pulled a blackened tin box out of a hole in the plaster. I was stomping my feet next to her. 2 “That’s mine!” “It’s mine!” “Don’t touch it!” But she couldn’t hear me. She even opened the box. “Ah!” My secret was exposed just like that. She was the worst! She picked up the photo inside, which had been burned in half. She held it to the camera: “Look, guys! The girl in this photo is so pretty. She looks super young. I wonder if she was even eighteen.” I huffed angrily. “Don’t think calling me pretty will make me forgive you! And I was eighteen! I was an adult!” I even had a boyfriend! The comments floated across the screen: Is she the eighteen-year-old victim? Don’t touch the dead’s belongings, especially if they died young. That’s bad luck! So sad. Dying that young. I heard that hospital was run like a prison. That’s why so many didn’t escape. Wait, there’s a shoulder next to her in the photo. Black shirt. Looks like a guy. Maybe the person she liked? Psychos have crushes? Imagine being liked by a crazy person. Creepy. Seeing the comments made me sad. I wasn’t a psycho. I just… I had autism. My dad said if I stuck to the treatment, I’d get better and I could date. I could like people. I wasn’t crazy. Chloe frowned at her phone. “If you can’t speak human, get out of my stream. Calling people ‘crazy’—you look in the mirror lately? You’re the weirdos.” I decided Chloe might not be that bad. She flipped the photo over. Two words were written on the back. “Liam Ford.” Liam was my first love. Because I refused to go to school, he became my home tutor starting my junior year. He was nineteen then. My dad said he was brilliant. We went to the same high school. He was the city’s top scholar, an Ivy League student, skipped grades, and secured a spot in a top tech grad program by his junior year of college. “Let him tutor you, okay?” 3 I didn’t speak. Whether I agreed or not, he was going to be my tutor. My dad had hired many tutors before Liam. But during class, I liked to do other things—drawing or woodcarving, lost in my own world. Those tutors always quit. When Liam first arrived, I ignored him too. I assumed he’d badmouth me behind my back. Give me weird nicknames. People thought I was stupid because I didn’t talk or tattle. That’s what they all did. But he just kept lecturing in my ear, not caring if I listened. Actually, I understood most of it. After class, he pulled out some worksheets. “These cover today’s lesson. Do them if you have time. I’ll go over them tomorrow.” I didn’t do them. Not interested. I doodled all over his test paper. He said, “That’s a pretty nice frog.” It was clearly a monster! How could it be a frog?! So annoying. “Did I say something wrong?” I ignored him. He lowered his eyes and started teaching. Liam had long eyelashes. When he blinked, they looked like butterfly wings. Liam was always calm. He didn’t seem to care if I ignored him. “Did you understand this question? If not, tell me, and I’ll explain it again.” He tapped the desk with his fingertip. I ignored him. “Since you understood, let’s move to the next one.” When I didn’t understand, I’d turn my head and look at him, and he’d explain it again. I thought it was fun, so I deliberately looked at him again after he finished explaining. After five times, Liam was still chill. Weird. Didn’t he ever get mad? A month later, I spoke my first sentence to him. 4 “What is a little monster?” Why did my classmates call me that? Liam paused, then asked, “Who said that?” I didn’t tell him. “Did someone call you that?” I nodded. Then he drew a picture for me. He asked, “What is this?” “A snake eating an elephant.” Liam smiled faintly. “But most people think it’s a hat.” How silly. He said, “People always reject views that are different from their own. They think you’re different from them, so they’re prejudiced. The prejudice is the monster, not you.” “But I am different from normal people.” “You’re just… very unique. Everyone is different. It’s no big deal.” No one had ever told me these things. He asked, “Want to know the story behind this drawing?” I nodded. “Finish this worksheet, and I’ll tell you.” Fine. Liam brought me The Little Prince. I felt like I was as unique as the Little Prince. Liam was even more unique. The Little Prince lived on a planet where he could see the sunset forty-four times a day. “Liam, I want to see the sunset forty-four times a day too.” “If you get into Stanford, I’ll take you to see it.” I hesitated. I didn’t like school, and I didn’t like the people out there. But if Liam was there, maybe the outside world wouldn’t be so hateful. 5 After I got into Stanford, Liam took me there. In the school auditorium, I saw forty-four sunsets. Liam coded the program and projected it with models. He said he wouldn’t be tutoring me anymore. “Why?” “You graduated.” “Liam, I like you.” High school was over, but my like wasn’t. “You’re still young. You haven’t seen the outside world.” I understood. Liam didn’t like little monsters either. “Liam, I’m not stupid. If you don’t like me, just say it. Don’t invalidate my feelings.” I rarely spoke such long sentences. Just because I didn’t like talking didn’t mean I didn’t have my own thoughts. Liam froze. I knew a lot of people liked Liam. I could read that look in their eyes. But Liam didn’t understand my like. He didn’t know that he was the only one I let into my world. If he didn’t want to come in, then fine. I stopped talking to Liam. No matter what he said, I wouldn’t listen. If I wanted to, I could block out all external sounds and live only in my own world. When I was little, I couldn’t understand what others said, and I couldn’t come out of my world. I didn’t understand why my mom cried over me. When she left, I didn’t feel anything special. 6 Later, after long-term therapy, I learned how to step out of my world. Although I still didn’t understand complex emotions most of the time. But I knew tears meant sadness. And my mom didn’t abandon me because she didn’t want me. After meeting Liam, I learned what “like” meant. Liking meant wanting to share my world with him, wanting to be with him, doing nothing and still being happy. When I told Liam my weird thoughts, he would think seriously before responding. Even if it wasn’t the answer I wanted, I liked Liam’s answers. After Liam rejected me, when he dropped me off at my door, he asked, “Are you never going to talk to me again?” He didn’t like me anyway, so why care what I thought? But I nodded honestly. “Can’t we still be friends?” “But I like you. You don’t like me. I’ll be sad.” “If you like someone else, if you’re with someone else, I’ll be sad too.” “So, I can’t be friends with you.” Liam was silent. Just as I was about to leave, Liam grabbed my wrist. He said, “I don’t want you to be sad.” So Liam and I got together. He was the same as before, texting me every day, calling me, telling stories, taking me out to play. We rode the Ferris wheel and watched dolphins. When I was scared, he held my hand. But my dad found out and forbade me from seeing him. My dad said he was poor and dating me to scam our family’s money. I didn’t know how to explain, I just kept repeating: “No, no, no…” Liam wasn’t that kind of person. “He likes me, and I like him.” My dad said, “Do you know what like is? How could a normal person like him actually like you! He just sees you’re easy to trick! I never should have hired him as your tutor!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387012”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Five years in Hollywood, and I was still a nobody. Despite the resources thrown my way, I had zero heat. I was the definition of a flop. Defeated, I had no choice but to bow to my parents’ wishes and go home for an arranged marriage. My fiancé hated me. He refused to show up for the wedding rehearsal and called me instead to lay down the law. “Hello. Listen, I have someone I like. Don’t waste your time on me.” “You can go find whoever you want. I won’t interfere.” “This marriage is strictly a transaction. We divorce in one year. Get your head right, and don’t come crying to me when it’s time to sign the papers.” He laid out his rules and hung up immediately. I stood outside his study, deep in thought. Why? Because inside his study, the walls were covered in my merch. 1 I changed my name to break into the industry on my own, grinding for five years. But due to my “cold” constitution—or maybe just bad luck—I never popped off. So, I had to compromise. I agreed to the family merger. The guy was Liam Sterling. The eldest son of the Sterling empire. Cold, ruthless, a shark in a suit. My friends warned me. They said Liam had the face of a siren—dangerously attractive, making you let your guard down—but inside, he was ice. He only cared about profit. “Faye, honestly, everyone feels bad for you,” my friend said over the phone. “Marrying a heartless robot like that? You’re in for a miserable life.” I gripped my phone, silent for a long moment, before letting out a bitter laugh. After hanging up, I opened my social media backend. I went to the drafts folder and finally hit “Post” on the retirement statement I’d prepared months ago. 2 Even though I was D-list, I had a few die-hard fans. As soon as the retirement post went up, the familiar IDs flooded my DMs. Among the wall of text, a user named “Q” stood out. I knew this guy. Too well. For the past five years, every time I posted, he was the first to like and comment. He was my OG stan. He had top-tier gear, too. Every candid photo he took of me was 4K quality. He dropped serious cash on my promo campaigns, so the other dozen fans affectionately called him “Sugar Daddy Q.” I clicked on his profile. His pinned post was a fan-cam edit of me, and a video of him trying to learn my hand-dance choreography. He never showed his face, but his movements were serious, bordering on clumsy. It was cute. But what stuck with me were his comments. No flowery poetry, no cringe pick-up lines. Just one simple, stubborn sentence, every single time: I hope you’re happy today. But today, he broke character. The text box was filled with a massive paragraph. He wrote about how he stumbled upon my videos during the darkest time of his life. How a random sentence I said helped him survive a sleepless night. How his hands shook with excitement every time he saw a notification from me. In the end, he used every ounce of his courage to say: “I’m sorry if this is overstepping.” “But I want to tell you that to me, you are a light. You are the straw that saved a drowning man. You are the reason I kept going.” “For the past five years, knowing you existed made me happy.” “Nina, you are as important to me as my own life.” (Note: Nina was my stage name). I stared at the screen. I noticed typos. He must have been typing frantically, his fingers trembling, maybe even breaking down as he hit the keys. I read his essay, my eyes stinging. I typed back a genuine reply: “Thank you for five years of support and love. I hope you stay happy too. Maybe our paths will cross one day.” 3 After replying to every DM, I took a deep breath, swallowed the lump in my throat, and got ready to deactivate the account. That’s when I saw my fiancé’s name trending at #1. #LiamSterlingCryingInCar Curious, I clicked the hashtag. A ten-second video auto-played. The dim streetlights illuminated Liam’s chiseled profile. His lashes were lowered, his shoulders shaking. Tears were visibly streaming down his face. He radiated a shattering, desperate heartbreak. The comments section was in shambles. “OMG, the Demon CEO is crying? Did the sun rise in the west?” “LMAO, I thought he was possessed. That looked painful.” “Whatever possessed Mr. Sterling, please leave his body immediately…” “But seriously, what could make a cold-blooded capitalist cry like that?” People started guessing. Some said the forced marriage broke him. Some said work stress. I didn’t care. I scrolled past, disinterested, and went to deal with my agent. 4 At 2 AM, I dragged my exhausted body home. I checked my phone and saw a friend request. It was the crying man from the trending topic. The verification message was two words: “Liam Sterling.” I hesitated, checked his profile. Black avatar. Blank bio. Username “Z.” He gave off strong “do not approach” energy. Rubbing my temples, I accepted. Liam immediately sent a voice note. His tone was icy, distant. Like he was dealing with a pest he couldn’t exterminate, barely maintaining basic manners. “Miss Faye, hello. I am your fiancé, Liam Sterling.” I hate voice notes. I typed back: “Hello.” Liam didn’t care for small talk. He went straight for the jugular. “I have someone I love. I will only ever love her. So, after we marry, do not waste your time on me.” “Our marriage is a business deal. I’m fine with an open marriage. You can find whoever you want. I won’t interfere, and you won’t interfere with me.” “Faye, I heard from your father that you have a first love who is currently abroad. I travel often. I don’t mind taking you with me to create opportunities for you two to meet.” I paused. Was he serious? “You mean… you’ll be my wingman? So I can cheat on you with my ex?” Liam: “Yes. Exactly.” “I don’t want you clinging to me. It’s safer for me if you’re obsessed with someone else.” “…” I didn’t know what to say. “Okay, keep going. What else?” Liam: “Remember, this marriage lasts one year.” “One year, then we divorce. Don’t make a scene. Don’t cry and refuse to sign. It’ll be embarrassing for both families.” Me: “Sure. Don’t worry, I won’t.” Hearing my guarantee, Liam seemed to exhale. “By the way, Faye.” “We don’t need a wedding ceremony. And obviously, no marital duties in the bedroom.” “We don’t need to announce the marriage publicly. Keeping it low-key is better for both of us.” I had no objections. After listing his demands, Liam went silent for a long time. Probably checking if he missed anything. Fifteen minutes later: “That’s all for now.” “Sorry, Faye. I’m a businessman. I don’t trust verbal agreements.” “To prevent you from backing out, I’m drafting a contract. We sign it. Okay?” “It covers assets, the one-year limit, the no-sex clause, and my assistance in helping you see your ex.” Me: “Sure, Liam. Send it over.” Liam: “I’ll have it ready by tomorrow morning.” I thought for a second. “Should we meet before we get the marriage license?” Liam rejected me instantly. “No need. Waste of time. We have nothing to say to each other. See you in three days at City Hall.” Fine by me. “Okay. Sounds good.” 5 Liam was terrified I’d change my mind, so he was efficient. He emailed the digital draft at 4 AM. Then, shockingly, at 6 AM, he personally delivered the hard copy to my house. While my dad made small talk with him in the living room, my mom dragged me out of bed to brush my teeth. I hid at the top of the stairs, toothbrush in mouth, peeking at Liam. He looked exactly like my friend described. Sitting on the leather sofa, legs crossed, wearing a tailored black suit that screamed money. He had that aesthetic bone structure—cold, abstinence-vibes sexy. I could see why my dad picked him. But then, I spotted it. Peeking out from under his expensive cuff was a cheap, braided pink wristband. Electric Pink was my fandom color. So, the top-tier alpha CEO likes wearing cute pink accessories? Interesting.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387028”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 After I traded my luck to my brother, he was no longer the slow, simple boy I grew up with. He became sharp, clever—the respected Mr. Aston, CEO of our family’s company. And I, once the gifted child, was left with the mind of a seven-year-old, so clumsy I could barely walk without stumbling. It pained him to see me fall and hurt myself, so he brought our housekeeper’s daughter, Maya, to live with us. “You’re the same age,” he told me, a gentle smile on his face. “I know you’ll be the best of friends.” I was so happy. I ran to get my favorite teddy bear to show her. But instead of a smile, she gave me a slap that sent me sprawling to the floor. “Are you an idiot?” she hissed, her face twisted in contempt. “You have all this jewelry, and you offer me a stupid toy? Are you trying to insult me?” She snatched the bear and, with a pair of scissors, sliced it open. The soft cotton stuffing spilled onto the carpet like snow. I burst into tears and called my brother, but I’d caught him at the worst possible time. His voice was cold, sharp with stress. “I’m exhausted, Monica. It’s a stupid bear. I’ll buy you another one. Can you please just stop making a scene?” The line went dead. I stood there, lost and confused. Had he forgotten? That little bear was the vessel, the very thing that held our traded luck. … Footsteps echoed behind me. A hand tangled in my hair and yanked my head back. Maya’s teeth were clenched. “You dare sneak off and call Mr. Aston? You’re asking for it!” A sharp pain exploded in my chest as her foot connected with my ribs, sending me flying into the wardrobe. My head swam. Through a haze of pain, I saw the ruined teddy bear lying beside me. I ignored everything else and scrambled to gather the tattered fabric. The bear couldn’t be broken. It couldn’t. The next second, a heavy weight crushed my hand. The pain was so intense, a scream tore from my throat. Maya ground her heel into my fingers, looking down at me with disdain. “Give me all your jewelry. A moron like you doesn’t deserve to wear it anyway.” Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I beat at her foot with my free hand, but my body was weak. To her, it was like a fly buzzing around her ankle. Just as I was about to pass out, our housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, grabbed Maya’s arm. “Honey, you can’t go too far! What if Mr. Aston finds out?” “He dotes on this stupid sister of his. If he finds out, we’ll both be in hot water!” Maya scowled but reluctantly lifted her foot. Then, she turned her anger on my arm, her fingers digging into the soft flesh. “I can’t stand her,” she spat, her face contorted with rage. “Why is her life so much better than mine? Did she really think she could fob me off with a stupid toy? No way in hell!” My face was pale with pain. I wanted to tell her the bear wasn’t a gift—it was just something to show her. My brother, Julian, had already bought her a present, an expensive designer necklace. I just hadn’t had a chance to give it to her yet. Before I could speak, Mrs. Gable was already soothing her daughter. “I know where the little idiot keeps her jewelry. I’ll get it for you, sweetie.” Maya’s eyes lit up. “Well, what are you waiting for? Show me!” She let go of me and eagerly followed her mother to my jewelry box. I lay on the floor, tears of pain streaming down my face, but I never loosened my grip on the bear’s tattered remains. Its once-plump belly was now flat and empty. Its neck was torn. The only things intact were its two shiny black button eyes. I crawled to my feet and frantically tried to stuff the cotton back inside. It can’t be broken, I thought. If the bear is broken, Julian’s luck will run out… But no matter how hard I tried, the stuffing kept falling out. It was hopeless. I hugged the ruined bear to my chest, my tears falling faster. I didn’t understand. One minute, Maya was promising to take care of me; the next, she was a monster. And I didn’t understand how my brother could have forgotten something so important. I don’t know how long I lay there. Maya, satisfied with her haul of jewels, was watching TV. Mrs. Gable came in and swept up the scattered cotton, her voice a low warning. “Not a word of this to your brother.” I was already terrified of her. I shrank back, climbed onto my bed, and hid the bear under my pillow. I was tossing and turning, unable to sleep, when I heard Julian’s tired voice from downstairs. “Monica said Maya was bullying her. Mrs. Gable, what’s going on?” He was home! I shot upright in bed. I couldn’t hear what Mrs. Gable said, but a moment later, my bedroom door opened, and Julian walked in. He had come to see me. His eyes were heavy with fatigue and frustration, but beneath it, I could see the familiar ache of concern. He sat on the edge of my bed and stroked my hair. “Monica,” he said softly, “Mrs. Gable said you were lying. That you were just lonely and missed me.” “I’m home now. Are you happy?” I grabbed his hand, biting my lip. I had to tell him about the bear. “I wasn’t lying. Maya… she took the bear and…” “Enough!” His voice was a whip crack. He yanked his hand away, his face darkening. “The bear, the bear! Who would be so childish as to cut up a stupid toy?” “Monica, are you trying to remind me that everything I have is because of you?” “I haven’t forgotten! Not for a single second! Do you have any idea how exhausting it is running this company? Have you ever heard me complain?” “I’ve already decided to hand the company over to you one day! And I’m going to find a way to fix you! You don’t need to keep reminding me!” I stared at him, my mouth agape. “That’s not what I meant, Julian…” “Do you think I wanted to trade with you? If the company hadn’t been on the verge of collapse, I never would have done it!” “If I had known it would be this exhausting, this relentless, I would have never agreed to it! I would rather have been the one to become an idiot!” His voice was shaking, his eyes red-rimmed with emotion. But I only heard one thing. Julian hadn’t forgotten. He just thought being the idiot was the better deal. He regretted it. He didn’t want to be CEO anymore. … My mind may be that of a seven-year-old, but I still remembered one very important thing. Years ago, our parents died in a car crash, leaving Julian and me alone. The company was in its infancy, and no matter how hard Julian worked, he couldn’t stop the bleeding. We were losing money, fast. One New Year’s, he took me to a temple on a mountain to pray. There, we met a strange old mystic. He told us that the Aston family’s luck was concentrated entirely in me, but I was too young to handle such a burden. He offered to perform a ritual to swap our fates. The price would be my intellect; I would slowly regress, becoming a child again. Julian, of course, refused. He yelled at the old man, grabbed my hand, and took me home. But the company continued to fail. One night, he held me and cried. “Monica, I dreamed of Dad. He called me a failure.” “What do I do? What am I supposed to do? I’m too stupid, I’m not good enough…” His last words to me that night were, “I’m sorry.” After that, the teddy bear appeared in my hands. And Julian, miraculously, turned the company around. He became a titan in the business world, a force to be reckoned with. He had warned me then, “You can lose anything, Monica, but not that bear. If anything happens to it, our family is finished.” From that day on, I never let it out of my sight. But now, he didn’t seem to care anymore. He regretted his choice. If the bear was broken… wouldn’t that be a good thing? If he wanted his old life back… then maybe I shouldn’t say anything about the bear at all. I quietly pulled my hand out from under the pillow. “Monica, you’re a child. You don’t have to worry about anything,” Julian’s voice cut through my thoughts. “But do you have any idea how tired I am? How much pressure I’m under every single day?” He was struggling to keep his emotions in check. His voice was almost a plea. “I’m only twenty-five. I can’t do everything. Please, can you just not cause any more trouble for me?” Looking at the exhaustion etched on his face, my heart ached. “I’m sorry, Julian. I won’t bother you with little things anymore.” His lips tightened, and for a moment, he looked relieved. He took my hand. Then his expression changed. He pushed up my sleeve, his eyes locking onto the dark bruises on my arm. “What is this? Who did this to you?” Before I could answer, Maya burst into the room. She snatched my hand, holding up a first-aid kit with a look of theatrical concern. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Aston. I wasn’t watching Monica closely enough today. She insisted on playing outside and took a tumble. I was just about to put some ointment on her bruises.” Julian frowned, his gaze shifting to me. “Is that true?” I sighed internally. In the past, when Mrs. Gable had hit me, I had told Julian many times. He never believed me. He always said she had been with our family for over a decade and would never do such a thing. Eventually, I just stopped trying. Besides, I really didn’t want to add to his burdens. So I nodded. “Yes. I fell.” Maya let out a sigh of relief. “Let me put some medicine on that for you, Monica.” Julian stared at her, his expression unreadable. “Take care of Monica,” he said, his voice low and heavy. “The study abroad program I promised you depends on it.” “And I have security cameras installed in the house. I check them regularly.” He was lying. I knew he never checked the cameras. If he had, he would have known long ago that Mrs. Gable was abusing me. But I didn’t call him out on it. He was so busy; it was normal for him to overlook things. But his words terrified Maya. The next morning, after Julian left for work, she and her mother tore the house apart, desperate to find the cameras. My clothes were thrown on the floor and trampled. Julian’s priceless antique vase was shattered. I huddled in a corner, my heart pounding. “Do you know where they are?” Maya snarled, glaring at me. I shook my head frantically. “No!” She didn’t believe me. She slapped me across the face. “You little bitch. You know, don’t you? You’re just waiting to tattle to Mr. Aston.” “Tell me where they are, damn it!” I fell, and the ruined bear tumbled out from where I’d hidden it in my shirt. Its two black eyes stared up at me. I reached for it, but Mrs. Gable grabbed my arm. Her smile was chilling. “Miss Monica, just tell me where the cameras are. I promise I’ll never hit you again.” She’d made that promise a hundred times before. I didn’t believe her for a second. I struggled. “I don’t know! Ask Julian!” CRACK! Another slap, so hard my head spun. Mrs. Gable’s hands were large and strong. The blow left a red mark on my neck, and my cheek began to swell. A flash of regret crossed her face—she’d hit me too hard. Julian would notice. She vented her frustration by kicking me hard in the stomach. “If Mr. Aston finds out, Maya and I are done for! And you won’t have it easy either!” She kicked me again and again, until the world went black. When I woke up, the house was spotless. I instinctively looked at my hand. The bear was still clutched in my fist. I hadn’t lost it. But looking at the tattered rag and two black buttons that used to be my round, plump teddy bear, the relief I felt was quickly swamped by a wave of despair. What was the point? The bear was already broken. Even if I protected it, it was too late. My lip trembled. I tossed the bear aside, not caring where it landed. I ran upstairs, a sharp pain in my chest, the taste of iron in my mouth. This time, Mrs. Gable had been especially vicious. In my room, I automatically reached for my phone to call Julian. But I stopped. I had promised him I wouldn’t bother him with little things anymore. He was so tired. The company was about to go public; he hadn’t been home for dinner in weeks. Perhaps it was a psychic connection. Just as I was thinking of him, he came home early. He was beaming, carrying a cake. The company had successfully gone public. “Monica, it’s all because of you,” he said, his eyes shining. “I never could have done this without you. I didn’t let Mom and Dad down. I finally made them proud.” I had never seen him so happy, not since our parents died. He cut the cake himself and gave me the piece with the biggest strawberry. “Monica, I’ll be able to spend more time with you now. Are you happy?” My eyes lit up. I took a big bite of cake. “Happy!” My enthusiasm made him smile even wider. He ruffled my hair affectionately. Across the room, Maya was clenching her fists, her jaw tight. She still hadn’t found the cameras, and it was eating away at her. But she told herself that if Julian had seen anything, he would have exploded by now. She forced a smile. “Congratulations, Mr. Aston. I guess you won’t be needing me anymore, now that you can be with Monica.” Julian cut her a slice of cake, his smile generous. “Of course we’ll still need you. You’re Mrs. Gable’s daughter. I hope you and Monica can become good friends.” In his joy, he missed the flash of mockery in her eyes. How could two people from such different worlds ever be friends? After the cake, Julian handed me a beautifully wrapped box. Inside was a stunning pearl necklace. “There’s a celebration gala tomorrow,” he said softly. “Everyone who’s anyone in this city will be there. I want you to come with me, Monica. None of this would have happened without you.” “Go pick out a new dress. Tomorrow, I’m going to introduce you to everyone.” I wrung my hands. All my new clothes had been taken by Mrs. Gable for Maya. The old ones had been cut up and thrown away. “Julian, you should go by yourself,” I said meekly. “I don’t know how to talk to people. They’ll laugh at me.” He smiled. “Who would dare laugh at you? You’re my sister.” I could feel it—Julian’s status had risen to a whole new level. Thinking of my own diminished state, a strange new emotion welled up inside me. “I don’t have any clothes! I’m not going!” I turned and ran upstairs, locking myself in my room. Downstairs, I could hear Julian’s voice drift up through the door. “What’s wrong with Monica? Where are all her clothes?” Maya’s voice was laced with false innocence. “She… she got them all dirty playing in the mud. My mom sent them to be cleaned.” Julian sighed. “I guess we’ll have to get her treatment started as soon as possible after tomorrow. She can’t go on like this.” I clamped my hands over my ears, not wanting to hear any more. The next day, Julian went to the gala by himself. Before he left, he turned on the TV to the local news channel. “Monica, I’m going to be on TV today. Since you don’t want to come, you can watch from home.” On a whim, I asked, “Julian, did you really install cameras in the house?” He glanced around, then lowered his voice. “Yes. They’re in your teddy bear’s eyes. Don’t tell anyone.” “I’ve been too busy to check them, but I will when I have time.” His assistant was calling him. He hurried out the door. After he left, I tore the house apart, but I couldn’t find the bear anywhere. I was starting to panic when Maya shoved me. “You little idiot, what are you doing? Now my mom has to clean up your mess!” I stumbled and hit the TV stand. My eyes met the two black, shiny eyes of the teddy bear, which was perched on top of the TV. I gasped with relief. I was about to grab it when Maya kicked me to the floor. Just then, Julian’s voice came from the TV. “My success today is all thanks to my sister. Even though she couldn’t be here, I’d like to dedicate this first toast to her.” I looked at the screen. Julian was raising his glass, a wide smile on his face. In front of him were countless reporters and business leaders, all fawning over him. “Mr. Aston, why isn’t your sister here today? We’d love to meet her!” someone called out. Julian’s smile faltered slightly. “She… she was injured saving my life when we were children. It affected her mind. She has the intellect of a seven-year-old and can’t handle large crowds.” “To thank her, I’ve purchased two estates in her name. I plan to live there with her and take care of her for the rest of her life.” At his words, Maya’s eyes turned red with envy. She threw herself on top of me and started slapping me, again and again. “You bitch! Why do you get to have such a good life? Why don’t I have a brother like that?” As her slaps rained down on me, someone on the TV shouted, “Mr. Aston, do you have a photo of your sister? Can you show us?” Julian’s good mood returned. He smiled. “Even better. Why don’t I turn on the security camera at home and let her say hello?” He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. The teddy bear’s eyes on top of the TV suddenly swiveled, focusing directly on me, and on Maya, who was still on top of me, slapping my face.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387044”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel