Category: English

I’d been supporting Leo for ten years. When he finally asked me to marry him, it came with a condition: I had to get a tubal ligation. We would adopt a child from an orphanage. Just as I was about to follow his plan and adopt a little girl named Carrie, text suddenly materialized in the air before me, like comments in a video stream. 【Congratulations to the supporting female character on officially becoming the sucker. Carrie is the male and female lead’s biological daughter.】 【Carrie will get rid of the villainess soon enough. Then all her money will belong to our happy family of three.】 【Serves her right. Who told her to use her stupid money to get in the way of true love!】 My breath hitched. I turned away from the sweet-faced girl and walked toward a child in the corner of the yard. She’d just been in a fight and was now coolly tying her shoelaces. The pop-ups started again. 【No, don’t pick her! That’s the ultimate boss villain of the future! She’s the one who’s destined to fight the main characters!】 【Is the evil villainess insane? I feel so helpless, I wish I could reach through the screen and slap her!】 Oh. But of course. A villainess and the ultimate boss villain… weren’t we destined to be a family? 1. On the way to the orphanage, Leo gave me the silent treatment. The scowl on his face only vanished when he saw the little girl, Carrie. Eager to please him, I hurried over to ask her if she’d like to be my daughter. “You bitch! You think you’re good enough to be my mom? I hate you!” I was completely taken aback. This little girl, who looked so clean and angelic, so out of place in these drab surroundings, had just kicked me as hard as she could. “Get away from me, you slut! Just go die already!” She’d put all her strength into it. A sharp, searing pain shot through my knee, and I stumbled, crashing hard onto the ground. She just smirked, then ran to Leo and hid behind his legs, her dark eyes peering out at me. “Who gave you permission to talk to Carrie? What if you scared her?” Leo’s voice was ice. His eyes were filled with nothing but disgust. “She’s just a kid, how hard can she kick? Are you putting on a show so I’ll feel sorry for you? Get up. And apologize to Carrie!” I was about to speak when the pop-up text flooded my vision again. 【Nice one, Carrie! Avenge your real mom! And congrats to our villainess on being the sucker. Carrie is the main couple’s biological kid.】 【Carrie will get rid of the villainess soon enough. Then all her money will belong to our happy family of three.】 【Serves her right. Who told her to use her stupid money to get in the way of true love!】 I couldn’t believe my eyes. Congratulations on being the sucker? Just then, Carrie started to make fake sobbing noises. Leo’s face darkened with rage. He strode over, yanked me roughly to my feet, and roared, “I told you to apologize! Didn’t you hear me?!” “I’ll count to three. If you don’t apologize, the wedding is off!” 2. He stared down at me, confident he had me completely under his thumb. The pop-ups cheered. 【Father and daughter, working together to get revenge for the female lead! This bitch stole her man and is about to steal her child, she deserves this!】 【So awesome! They’re standing up to her power. Just because the villainess is rich doesn’t mean she can walk all over our male lead.】 I swallowed my fury and pushed myself off the ground. “I’m the one paying for this adoption. I’m the one who was just insulted and knocked over. And now you expect me to suck up to this little monster?” “Leo, you don’t have to call off the wedding, because I’m calling it off myself. And as for Carrie, there is no way in hell I’m taking her.” The air went still. A moment later, Carrie was the first to break the silence, screeching, “No! I don’t want to stay here and have the other kids call me an orphan! No!” “I want to eat steak and lobster! Not the boiled cabbage they serve here! And I don’t want to live in a gross dorm with those other kids, it stinks!” Leo’s eyes were wide, his chest heaving. But he quickly recovered, a cynical sneer twisting his lips. “Clara, don’t forget, you’ve already had the sterilization procedure. The one that can’t be reversed. You love children, don’t you? If you don’t adopt, you’ll never be a mother.” He softened his tone, trying a different tactic. “I know you’re just upset that I didn’t defend you. Carrie was rude, I’ll admit. But why are you holding a grudge against a child?” “Look at the other kids here. They all look so dull. Who can compare to Carrie? A little mischief just means she’s smart. Come on, honey, let’s just get the paperwork done. We can talk about everything else when we get home.” But my expression didn’t change. He reached for me, and I slapped his hand away. “I’ll say it one more time. Our engagement is over. If you want this girl so badly, you can adopt her yourself.” I walked over to the corner of the yard, to the little girl who had just finished her fight and was now calmly tying her shoes. I’d been watching her for a while. She had been quietly building a little house out of blocks when a group of other kids had deliberately run over and kicked it down. She hadn’t cried. She hadn’t screamed. She had simply launched herself at them, a silent, furious little whirlwind. I went to her, unwound the silk scarf from my neck, and wrapped it around hers. My voice was gentle. “Would you like to come home with me? To be my daughter?” “I promise you, you will be the only child I ever have. I will give you all of my love.” The pop-ups went wild. 【No, don’t do it! That’s the ultimate boss villain of the future! She’s the one who’s destined to fight the main characters!】 【Is the evil villainess insane? I feel so helpless, I wish I could reach through the screen and slap her!】 The girl stared at me, her dark eyes unblinking. As the warmth of the scarf seeped into her skin, her small body gave a slight tremble. “Okay,” she said, her voice raspy. Since I could no longer be a biological mother, I would be the best adoptive mother I could possibly be. 3. The director told me the girl’s name was Quinn. Her parents had sent her to the orphanage at age three, right after her little brother was born. “Quinn. It’s a strong name. I like it,” I said with a smile. The little girl looked up at me, then pouted. “It’s not a good name. They just picked it. It means nothing. Like a weed.” One of the boys she’d fought with earlier saw his chance. He snuck up behind her and shoved her hard, sending her sprawling. “Quinn looks like a weed, too!” he taunted. “Her hair looks like a dog chewed on it! It’s so ugly! Freak!” I finally noticed her hair. It looked like she’d cut it herself with a pair of blunt scissors—uneven, choppy, and shorter than a boy’s. “That’s because you spit bubblegum in my hair! I couldn’t get it out!” Quinn shot me a quick, embarrassed glance, then scrambled to her feet, her jaw set. Her palms were scraped raw, but she ignored the pain, ready to charge back into the fight. “Quinn!” I grabbed her, holding her back. For such a small thing, she was surprisingly strong. I stepped in front of her and fixed the boy with an icy stare. “My Quinn is the most beautiful girl in the world. As for you, what kind of big man bullies a girl? Apologize to her. Now.” The boy flinched under my gaze but stood his ground stubbornly. “You won’t? Fine. I’ll just have a word with the director. I’m sure she’d be happy to cancel your lunch today.” “No, no! Okay, I’m sorry! Quinn, I’m sorry, it was my fault!” He looked like he was about to cry, gave a half-hearted bow, and scurried away. I turned back to Quinn, smiling as I gently pinched her cheek. “Such a pretty face. It would be a shame to get it all scratched up in a fight. From now on, if anyone bullies you, you tell me. I’ll be in your corner.” “Come on. Let’s get some antiseptic for that hand. And when we get home, I’ll have a professional stylist give you a whole new look.” For a moment, her little body went rigid. She stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief, as I lifted her scraped palm to my lips and gently blew on it. I sent my assistant to handle the adoption paperwork and led Quinn to the car. Leo, finally snapping out of his shock, blocked our path with Carrie in tow. “Clara, are you serious? You’re actually adopting… this thing?” Quinn might be young, but she was sharp. At his words, she bristled like a wounded animal, baring her teeth at him. If I hadn’t been holding her tight, I think she might have launched herself at him like a tiny missile. “Quinn is adorable and so well-behaved. Of course I’m taking her home.” I smiled sweetly, stroking Quinn’s choppy hair and deliberately raising my voice. “After all, I have so many maids and chefs at the villa. We’ll get Quinn fattened up in no time. Oh, and of course, every girl loves fashion. I’ll have to set up a walk-in closet just for her.” Carrie, though just a child, looked like she was about to explode with jealousy. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of parents had raised her to be this way. “You’ll regret this, Clara,” Leo snarled, shoving past me. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done today.” He stormed off with Carrie to handle her adoption himself, since his plan had failed. What a joke. As Leo dragged her away, Carrie kept looking back over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on me as I lifted Quinn into the back of the Rolls-Royce. “Ready, Quinn?” I said, buckling her in. “Our amazing new life starts now!” 4. Back at the villa, I had Quinn take a long bath, and then we went downstairs in our pajamas to enjoy a nutritional meal specially designed for children by my private chef. I was worried she might be a picky eater, but she wasn’t at all. She ate with gusto, her appetite amazing. After dinner, we took a walk in the garden to aid digestion, and then I took her up to her new room. I had originally decorated it for Carrie, a pink-themed princess fantasy. It had several massive wardrobes and no fewer than ten jewelry boxes already filled with accessories. A pastry chef I’d hired from France wheeled in a cart laden with exquisite desserts. Quinn’s jaw dropped the moment she walked in and it didn’t close. “The bed is so big!” Droplets of water from her damp hair trickled down her neck as she let out a whoop of joy and launched herself onto the massive bed, rolling around gleefully. The maids smiled fondly. The new young miss was captivated by a big bed, unaware that any single dress hanging in the closet was a one-of-a-kind original, worth thousands of dollars. On the drive home, I’d had my people investigate Carrie’s background. The so-called “female lead” was none other than Anna, the daughter of a woman who had once worked as a maid in my house. Back in high school, her mother had begged me to let Anna live with us, claiming their apartment was too far from school. I was lonely, so I happily agreed. She ate with me, lived with me, and I treated her like a sister. I thought she was my best friend. I told her everything, including my secret crush on Leo. I never imagined that she was going behind my back, pursuing him herself. The two of them saw me as nothing more than a spoiled rich girl throwing my money around, and they plotted to have their own child inherit my entire fortune. The pop-ups started scrolling again. 【So what if a young couple in love has a baby? This isn’t the dark ages. If Clara really loved the male lead, she should accept every part of him.】 【Um, upstairs, what they did was seriously messed up. Having a kid is fine, but tricking someone else into raising it for you? That’s just scummy.】 【Yeah, the morality in this story is getting weird. This is supposed to be a revenge plot? Looks more like a family of ungrateful parasites to me.】 My chest felt tight. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. If I remembered correctly, Anna’s mother had been fired for theft. There was even evidence that Anna had been involved, but I’d still given her a substantial amount of money to help her start a new life. “Anna,” I whispered, my fingers trembling as I stared at the phantom text. “Why would you, of all people, stab me in the back? How could you do this?” “Where is this person?” Quinn was standing right behind me. She looked up, her eyes glinting with a coldness that didn’t belong in a child so young. “The people who bully you… I want them all to die.” She was so small and thin from years of malnutrition, she couldn’t have weighed more than a feather. And yet, this tiny child reached up and caught a tear as it slid down my cheek. “You’re crying. Tell me where she is.” 5. In that single moment, I knew I would do anything for her. I knelt and pulled her into a fierce hug. “Honey, from now on, it’s just you and me against the world. We’re going to live beautiful lives. We’re going to be happy.” Quinn was six but had never been to school. I immediately had my assistant find the best one for her. To ensure the staff and teachers would take extra good care of her, I simply donated a new building to the campus. I had the money, after all. And within my power, I would make sure my daughter got the very best of everything. Unfortunately, on her first day, I spotted Leo in the main auditorium, holding Carrie’s hand. He’d siphoned off a lot of money from me over the years, so he could maintain his lavish lifestyle for a while longer. “Well, well. It seems fate just loves to bring us together.” Our eyes met. Leo smirked at me, his chin held high. “I heard some big shot invested a fortune in this school for their kid this year. They even renovated the entire cafeteria. Aren’t you afraid of bringing… that… in here? What if she offends someone important?” Leo and Anna knew I was rich, but they had no idea that my family owned nearly every major commercial property in this city. They thought I was just new money. I smiled sweetly. “I was feeling pretty good about this school, but seeing you here makes me have second thoughts. The admission standards seem a little lax. They’re letting just anyone in these days.” “By the way, Leo,” I added, my voice dripping with innocence, “that little Carrie looks an awful lot like you. And you seem so fond of her. You two aren’t actually father and daughter, are you?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386534”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After we got back together, Nathan became clingy. What I ate, what I drank, who I saw—he needed a full report on everything. One day, he called, his tone a careful probe. “Zack brought some girls over. We’re heading to the spa.” I just said, “Oh. Have fun.” The line went dead. Twenty minutes later, he was blocking my doorway, his voice a raw whisper. “You’d just let me go off with someone else?” I took a step back under his intense gaze. “Isn’t this the ‘boundaries’ you wanted?” My words hung in the air, and he froze. 1 “Are you done?” I asked, my voice flat. “If you’re done, you can go. I really don’t mind.” Fearing he might misunderstand, I added a thoughtful assurance. “Don’t worry, I’ll play my part perfectly for your parents tomorrow.” Nathan’s face instantly darkened. “Aria,” he bit out, “you’re really something else.” He slammed the door on his way out. The commotion had completely shattered my drowsiness. I curled back into bed and scrolled through my phone. At two in the morning, a few photos arrived from an unknown number. A young woman, clad only in a bikini, her pale skin gleaming, was straddling Nathan. Steam curled in the air around them. His arm was wrapped casually around her waist, only a thin slip of fabric separating their bodies. Hey wifey, I’m scared of the water so Nate’s holding me tight 😉 So jealous you have such a caring hubby!~ I stared at the screen, considering my options. Should I get up and go catch them in the act? But it was so late, my driver was off for the night, and getting a ride would be a nightmare. Well then… maybe write a long, scathing essay tearing Nathan apart? The weather was too cold; my fingers would freeze. Maybe I could just copy and paste one of my old rants from our chat history. As I scrolled through the archives of my own fury, I somehow drifted off to sleep. No wonder Nathan never read them. When you strip away the emotion, the words are just long, rambling, and utterly exhausting. Turns out, they’re a pretty effective sedative. The next day was New Year’s. We were at the Vanderwood family estate. I was making small talk with the elders when the doorbell chimed. When the door opened, the girl from last night’s photos stood there, a picture of shy audacity. She was clutching a pair of men’s underwear. “This… he left this at my place yesterday.” The style was young, bold. There was only one man in this house they could possibly belong to. The scene was painfully familiar. The year we got engaged, another girl had shown up just like this. I’d gone ballistic, grabbing her hair and throwing her to the ground. Nathan had pulled me off her and left with the girl without a second glance, leaving me in a crumpled, humiliated heap on the floor. That night, the estate was in chaos. No one had a happy New Year. The old folks always say you shouldn’t start the year on a bad note. Sure enough, that was the year Nathan and I fought the most viciously. The living room fell silent. Everyone was waiting for my reaction. I immediately plastered on a smile and smoothed things over. “Oh, that’s my cousin. She grew up abroad, you know how wild they can be. We were all together for New Year’s Eve last night.” Nathan’s father let out a sigh of relief, but his mother’s eyes were sharp with suspicion. “Really?” “Of course,” I insisted, pulling the girl inside and shutting the door. The last flicker of hope in Nathan’s eyes died out. 2 On the drive back, I pulled the underwear from my pocket and tossed it at Nathan. He stammered out an explanation. “Last night wasn’t what you think. That girl is Zack’s sister, and I was drunk, I didn’t do anything…” I tore open a sanitizing wipe and began meticulously cleaning my hands. “You can just drop me here. I’m meeting Nancy for a poker game.” Nathan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His voice softened. “I can pick you up when you’re done?” “No need,” I said, pushing the car door open. “You go do your thing.” I didn’t want to know what that pair of underwear had been through. I just didn’t want to be contaminated by any of it. At Nancy’s place, I took a long, hot shower and changed into a fresh set of clothes she’d laid out for me. Only then did the tight, suffocating feeling in my chest finally begin to dissolve. Nancy watched Nathan’s car drive away, then raised an eyebrow at me. “So, how was the battle? What was the body count? And why didn’t you call for backup?” I sank into her sofa. “There was no battle. Scaring away the man is a small loss, but what if I scare away the money tree?” That New Year’s Day years ago, the Vanderwood estate had been a war zone. Several elders had been so upset they ended up in the hospital. As I lay on the cold floor, it was Nancy who had finally come for me, bundling my mud-stained self into her sports car. As she turned the key in the ignition, she couldn’t resist a bit of dark humor. “Trying to live out a childhood dream, were we? Making mud pies at the Vanderwood estate?” The moment I opened my mouth, tears streamed down my face. “Nancy, how did it get like this?” She panicked, fumbling to wipe my tears away, but she had no answer. No one could have predicted that Nathan and I would end up in such a toxic mess. We were childhood sweethearts, friends since we were in diapers. To get into the same university as him, I’d woken up before the chickens and gone to bed after the dogs, pouring every ounce of my being into my studies. The day I got my acceptance letter, my mother was amazed. “If I’d known all it took was Nathan to make you work this hard, why did I spend a fortune on all those tutors?” Everyone just assumed that Aria and Nathan were meant to be. A package deal for life. But just as we finally grew up, no longer needing to share a single order of street-cart fries, he was the one who let go of my hand. He resented his family for mapping out his future, for forcing him to abandon his dream of music to take over the family corporation. That resentment found a new target in me when I joyfully accepted the engagement. Back then, I was too blinded by my own happiness, too caught up in the fantasy of finally marrying the man I loved, to notice that the love had long since vanished from his eyes. After the engagement, he was never home. I’d wake up to a phone flooded with “concerned” messages from well-meaning friends. Nathan had dropped a fortune on some model; Nathan was on a yacht surrounded by women; Nathan had thrown a mock wedding for himself somewhere… The messages were like mold in the rainy season—impossible to scrub clean. I used to scream, to demand answers, to lose my mind and make a scene for everyone to see. All it earned me was a deeper layer of Nathan’s disgust. “Can’t you have some goddamn boundaries? You don’t like it? Then go tell my mother to call off the engagement!” Nancy once accurately described our relationship as less like a married couple and more like a rebellious teenager and his overbearing mother. One desperately trying to escape, the other clinging on for dear life. I thought I would be tangled up with him like that forever. But then, somewhere in the middle of all the fighting, I just got tired. Friends like Nancy don’t need words. A single look is enough. Seeing my strange calm, she asked softly, “So, what’s the plan?” I took the warm water she handed me. “The London project… both our families have invested a lot. I’m going to go oversee it myself.” “For how long?” “Tentatively, three years.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, not wanting to let go. “Before you leave, we’re going to party hard. My treat.” “Don’t you worry,” I leaned against her shoulder with a smile. “You won’t get out of it.” 3 I was jolted awake late that night by the doorbell. Nathan was slumped against the doorframe, drunk, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. I glanced at my phone. The Do Not Disturb notification showed 99+ unread messages in our chat. So, he couldn’t reach me and just came over. A year ago, I would have been flattered that he’d even thought to come home while drunk. I would have bustled around, helping him inside, getting him water, fussing over him for half the night. But now? My hair was freshly washed and fragrant, my apartment was spotless, and the last thing I wanted was the stench of a drunk man tainting it. He saw I had no intention of letting him in and asked, his voice hoarse, “You’re just going to leave me out here?” “You’re at the wrong place,” I said calmly. “This is my apartment, not our marital home.” “I’ll call someone to pick you up.” As I looked down to find a number, he shamelessly pressed closer. “Aria… I want the soup you make.” I took a deep breath, pushing down the last lingering sting in my heart. “Really? You’ll leave right after you have the soup?” He nodded eagerly. I opened the DoorDash app and held my phone out to him. “Pick whatever kind you want.” He froze, the alcohol seeming to evaporate from his system. “Aria, you never let me eat this stuff…” He was probably remembering the early days of our engagement when I, determined to be the perfect wife, had hired a chef to teach me how to cook, starting from the very basics of chopping vegetables. But he never even glanced at the food I made, let alone tasted it. I would secretly post pictures of my carefully prepared meals on Instagram, hoping the likes and comments from our mutual friends would tempt him to come home for a taste. Instead, I overheard him laughing with his friends at a bar. “If you had a stage-five clinger like Aria, you’d think my life was a tragedy too. Why would I eat her pig slop when I have a world of delicacies waiting for me outside?” Amid the roar of laughter, I ran home and cried for three days straight. Nancy was both furious and heartbroken for me. “My darling girl, you’re the type of person who’d rather starve than turn on a stove! Why are you learning to cook for a man?! He’s out living it up while you’re turning yourself into a ghost!” That was my wake-up call. I never cooked for him again. “Mine doesn’t even taste good,” I said, pushing the phone closer to him. “Just order something.” He sighed and took the phone. As his fingertips brushed my palm, his other hand instinctively moved to wrap around my shoulder. I recoiled violently, my back hitting the door with a dull thud. In the dead silence that followed, he lowered his head and lit a cigarette. The tiny flame flickered in the dark, illuminating the sharp lines of the face I once adored. “Aria, I’m your fiancé, not a walking biohazard.” “You never know,” I countered, taking another half-step back. “I need to sleep. I have work tomorrow.” I don’t know when he left. The next morning, the hallway outside my door was littered with cigarette butts. 4 On the way to the office, waiting at a red light, my mind drifted back to the night I finally broke things off. Nathan had locked me out that night, too. But that was at our marital home. He and a crowd of people were partying inside. He’d even changed the security code. The deep winter wind cut like a knife. I pounded on the door, my hand instinctively cradling my stomach, my voice choked with sobs. “Nathan, open the door… something’s wrong… my stomach…” It was the same girl from the spa who answered me through the intercom. “Hey, you out there! Nate said the one he has to marry is the Vanderwood family, not him. You should probably go. He said you need to learn about boundaries.” I froze for a second, then started hammering on the door like a madwoman. The people inside must have found it amusing. They recorded me through the security camera. In the background, I could hear the spa girl’s sweet, cloying voice. “Nate, she says something’s wrong?” His voice, slurred with alcohol and thick with annoyance, came through crystal clear. “Ignore her. She’s just playing the victim.” In the video, I looked like a deranged mess, crying and screaming. Eventually, I stopped, picked up my suitcase, and stumbled away, disappearing around the corner. That video made the rounds in our social circle. Nathan only found out after a full day of people looking at him with expressions that screamed, You’re a real piece of work. He finally, confusedly, clicked on the link. He didn’t think it was a big deal. So what? He was having a good time at home and didn’t want her to come in and ruin the mood. But the Vanderwood elders were furious. They said his actions were disgraceful and had brought shame upon both families. So he came to me, wearing the sullen expression of someone forced to apologize. “I didn’t know you would… walk out alone so late. I heard about the video.” He looked at me, as if assessing whether I’d learned my lesson. “People are talking… saying I drove my own fiancée out onto the street… Aria, stop being so dramatic and come home.” He never knew what happened in the darkness after the video cut off. And I was done trying to explain. Lying on the hospital bed, I wearily turned over. “It’s not your fault.” On the surface, it seemed we had reconciled. But from that day on, I stopped caring where he slept or if he ever came home. I quietly moved out of our marital home and back into my own small apartment. 5 Saying it wasn’t his fault was a lie. I’m no saint. Giving up on someone you’ve loved for so, so long feels like tearing a part of yourself from your own flesh and bone. When the withdrawals hit, I’d lie awake all night, a gaping hole in my chest where my heart used to be, the icy wind from that winter night howling through it. Besides, my family’s fortune and the Vanderwoods’ were already deeply intertwined, like the roots of two ancient trees. Tearing them apart would have consequences neither side could bear. I knew better than anyone that in the face of family interests, the squabbles of two young people were as light as a feather. Maybe the pressure from his family scared him. Maybe he belatedly realized he’d gone too far. Whatever the reason, Nathan started to rein it in. No more all-nighters. No more ignoring my existence. Instead, he began reporting his every move to me, in excruciating detail. One day, I was in the middle of a high-stakes negotiation, finalizing the core terms of a nine-figure project. We were at the final impasse over profit-sharing. You could hear a pin drop in the conference room. All eyes were on me, waiting for my response. And that’s when his messages started flooding my phone screen, one after another. Something about an appointment with a famous wedding dress designer; he needed to know what style I wanted. When I didn’t reply, he started calling. Again. And again. The buzzing of my phone was deafeningly disruptive. The lead negotiator on the other side said sympathetically, “Please, take your time. It might be urgent.” I maintained a polite smile, nodded my apologies, and ducked into the restroom before finally answering, hissing into the phone. “What the hell do you want? Why are you blowing up my phone over something so trivial? Are you that bored? Can’t you have some goddamn boundaries?!” After my tirade, the line went dead silent. I was the first to snap out of it, rubbing my temples wearily. “I’m sorry. I’ve been pulling all-nighters for this project, I’m just exhausted. The style… you can just pick one for me.” On the other end of the line, Nathan was quiet for a long time before he finally managed a strained, “Okay.” 6 The car pulled up in front of the Vanderwood Corporation headquarters. I was here to consolidate some resources before heading back to my own company. In the breakroom, I overheard some colleagues gossiping. “Did you see? Mr. Vanderwood came in with her again this morning.” “I know! I heard he even left his underwear at her place last time…” “What is with that? Isn’t he engaged?” “Please, everyone knows how much he can’t stand Miss Aria. He’s always saying he wishes she would just disappear.” … Thanks to Nathan’s strict policy of never acknowledging our relationship at the office, I, Miss Aria herself, was privy to all the juiciest gossip. I lowered my eyes and sipped my coffee, feeling nothing. This little scandal was nothing. These people were amateurs. They’d never seen a female delivery driver show up late at night wearing a matching set of lacy lingerie underneath her uniform. They’d never had to deal with the mountains of explicit late-night texts on his phone. They’d certainly never been toasted at a family banquet by some random girl who called me ‘sis’ as if we were best friends. Nathan never said no to anyone outside our home, and I was always the one left to clean up his messes. A pair of forgotten underwear barely even registered on the scale of his transgressions. I fought the urge to go over and say something. Then I looked up and saw that the subject of the gossip was standing right in front of me. The girl from the spa—the one who was “afraid of water”—was clinging to Nathan as if she had no bones of her own. When Nathan saw me, he frowned and told her to stand up straight. I took a second look. Of all his flings, she had certainly lasted the longest. The girl pouted and shoved a file into my hands. “You’re the one from his house, aren’t you?” I took the file and met her gaze. “And you’re the one who sat on him in a bikini at the spa.” The breakroom went dead quiet. Her face paled. She bit her lip and demanded, “Can’t you just let him go?” I held up my hands in surrender. Don’t drag me into this, kid. I’m just trying to get my materials and get out of the country. In a moment of desperate inspiration, my voice rising an octave, I threw Nathan’s own excuse back at them. “You call him ‘bro,’ I call him ‘bro.’ What’s this about letting him go or not?” “Aria.” Nathan’s warning tone came from behind me. “What nonsense are you spouting now?” I waved the file in my hand and turned to press the elevator button. “Bro, deal with your own drama. Leave me out of it.” The elevator doors slowly slid shut, reflecting Nathan’s thunderous expression and the hurt look on the girl’s face beside him. Were they having another fight? Not my problem. I glanced down at the flight confirmation email on my phone. In twenty-four hours, I would be gone. 7 I’d partied too hard with Nancy the night before, so I was barely holding it together at Nathan’s grandfather’s banquet. I placed my prepared gifts on the table. The first was a rare bottle of aged whiskey, a toast to the old man’s good health. The second was the heirloom sapphire bracelet his grandfather had personally placed on my wrist at our engagement party. Today, I was returning it. The message couldn’t be clearer. I stood behind Grandpa Vanderwood and gently massaged his shoulders. “Grandpa, I’m begging you, please grant my request to break off the engagement with Nathan.” He grew agitated. “Did that boy force you into this?” I shook my head, my voice soft but firm. “This is my decision. The love is gone. This engagement is meaningless.” I added, “I will personally oversee the London project. I won’t let the interests of our two families suffer.” Grandpa Vanderwood looked at the sapphire bracelet, then let out a long sigh. “The Vanderwood family has wronged you.” He paused for a moment, then added, “For the London project, you will have full authority. On top of the original terms, the Vanderwood family will grant an additional five percent of the profits to you personally. Consider it a small token from an old man.” “Thank you, Grandpa,” I said with a small smile, not refusing the offer. I had earned it. My flight was in two hours. I offered a final toast and made my excuses to leave early. As the car pulled away, I took one last look at the grand estate where Nathan and I had grown up together, from innocent playmates to deeply entangled lovers. Now, the story was over, and I was the only one walking off the stage. As we turned the corner, I saw Nathan’s car pulling into the driveway. I could just make out the silhouette of the spa girl in the passenger seat. Our cars passed each other, going in opposite directions. Nathan, I hope you get everything you ever wanted. And I hope my future is limitless. 8 Nathan rushed into the banquet hall, but he couldn’t find the familiar figure he was looking for. He sidled up to his grandfather, feigning a casual tone. “What did Aria get you?” His grandfather swirled the whiskey in his glass, then pushed another velvet box toward him. Inside lay the solitary sapphire bracelet. The thing she had treasured above all else, now returned by her own hand. A knot of anxiety tightened in Nathan’s chest. “Where is she?” Grandpa Vanderwood took a sip of his drink, his voice betraying no emotion. “Gone. She said she’s setting you free. The engagement is off.” He glanced pointedly at the spa girl who had followed Nathan in. “You should be happy now.” Nathan stood there, stunned. His first feeling was an overwhelming wave of exhaustion. He thought of all his clumsy attempts to change—calling her even when he was drunk, learning to cook for her, even taking charge of the wedding dress selection… He had done so much, had bent so far. And she was still throwing a tantrum. A hot surge of anger, the anger of being played for a fool, rose in his throat. Knowing Aria, she was probably already on a flight to London. He furiously typed out a message to Nancy. [Was it fun playing games with me?] [Did you two get a kick out of watching me run around like an idiot, trying to change for her?] Nancy didn’t reply with a single word. Instead, she sent him a link to a surveillance video. It was from a convenience store not far from their marital home.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386550”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I took my mom on a trip to the beach. She stared out at the horizon and suddenly said: “Honestly, you’re really ungrateful.” I froze. “Didn’t you say your lifelong dream was to see the ocean? I brought you here. How am I still ungrateful?” She grabbed a handful of sand and threw it at my head in frustration. “What’s the point of me coming alone? Why didn’t you bring your brother’s family? Even he gave me a hundred bucks, saying I shouldn’t just spend your money.” Sand got in my eyes, turning into tears. Calmly, I bought her the cheapest train ticket home. Then, right in front of her widening eyes, I put the gold bracelet I had intended to give her on my own wrist. Since her son was so perfect, she could go back and let him be the grateful one. 1 My mom always said her biggest regret was never seeing the ocean. So, for her birthday, I took a few days off work to surprise her with a trip to the beach, bringing my daughter along. I didn’t tell her until the day we left, thinking she’d be thrilled. Instead, she had a scowl on her face from the moment we boarded the plane. It wasn’t until we stood on the sand that she finally spoke. “Hannah, do you know something? You’re really ungrateful.” I was taken aback. “Mom, what did I do wrong?” She grabbed a handful of sand and threw it at me. “You have to ask? I live with your brother’s family, but you only brought me on this trip. What does that mean? What will they think? How am I supposed to face them when I go back?” I was speechless. “Mom, you’re overthinking it. I…” She cut me off. “Book tickets for your brother and his family right now. A vacation is only a vacation if the whole family is together. My conscience won’t let me enjoy this alone.” She immediately video-called my brother, Jason. “Son, look at this ocean! Isn’t it magnificent? Didn’t your wife say she wanted to see the sea? Tell her to pack. I’m making your sister buy plane tickets for all of you right now.” Jason’s wife snatched the phone, her voice ecstatic. “Hannah’s really buying us tickets? What about hotels and food? For a family of four, that’s going to be at least a few thousand dollars.” My mom waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, your sister’s covering it all. She’s got money. Just come and have fun. Didn’t you want to go clam digging? Come experience it yourself.” Hanging up, my mom’s face finally softened. She started issuing commands. “Hurry up and book the flights. Then get two more rooms. They have to be five-star, oceanfront view. They don’t have much money, so they deserve something nice. And transfer two thousand dollars to your sister-in-law right now so she feels secure and can have a good time.” The sand in my eyes stung. I held back tears and told her, “I’m just their sister, not their mother. Why should I pay for their vacation?” 2 Her face darkened instantly. “What do you mean? You don’t want to pay? Hannah, get this straight. I’ve lived with Jason all these years. He’s the one taking care of me in my old age. You’ve done nothing. Why are you reluctant to spend a little money?” I wanted to laugh. “You live with Jason because you insisted on raising his kids. Your entire pension goes to them. The money I send you every month goes to them. How have I done nothing? How is he taking care of you?” “Mom, since you care about them so much, why don’t you move in with me when we get back? I won’t ask you to babysit or do chores. I don’t need your pension. Let me take care of you, okay?” I thought she’d be happy. instead, she shoved my daughter, who was standing next to her, into the waves. “Are you crazy? Want me to raise your money-losing brat? Keep dreaming! I have my own grandsons. Why should I raise your kid? Hannah, stop talking nonsense and book the tickets.” My three-year-old daughter screamed, terrified by the water. I quickly pulled her out. The night breeze made her shiver. I roared at my mom, “What are you doing? She can’t swim! What if the waves took her?” She showed zero remorse. “Hmph! You care about your kid, I care about mine. So book the tickets for your brother’s family.” Book my ass. I found dry clothes for my daughter, then opened my phone and booked the earliest train ticket home for my mom. “Since you miss your son and grandsons so much, go back.” She looked at me in disbelief. “What do you mean? sending me back as soon as we get here?” I nodded at the endless horizon. “Yes. Go back. My daughter and I will have a great time.” She suddenly slapped me. “Hannah! I told you to book tickets for your brother, and you send me back on a train for hours? Is this how a daughter acts? You really are ungrateful. I knew you just wanted a vacation for yourself and dragged me along as an excuse!” 3 My face burned. My daughter reached up with her little hand to touch my red cheek. People around us started looking over. I fought back tears. “No way am I being a cash cow for Jason’s family. You can stay and enjoy a few days with me, or I can put you in a cab to the train station right now. Your choice.” She slapped her thigh and marched toward the ocean. “Fine, fine! With an ungrateful daughter like you, I might as well die!” She kept looking back as she walked. “Hannah, I’ll show you! I’ll let the sea take me! I’ll make you feel guilty for the rest of your life! I’ll make your daughter watch you kill me, and see if she takes care of you when you’re old!” The water soaked her pants, rising past her knees. People gasped. Several women tried to persuade her. “Ma’am, come back! Why fight with your child like this? Don’t joke with your life.” She ignored them, walking deeper. A large wave nearly knocked her over. She screamed at me, “Are you booking the tickets? Your sister-in-law fights with Jason every day about coming here! Your nephews have never been on a trip! But you take your money-losing daughter everywhere every year! Why? Tell me, why?” “If you don’t bring them here today, you’ll be taking my corpse home! You’ll regret this forever!” Several men stood near her, ready to grab her if a wave hit. Women pleaded with her. But she just stared at me. “Are you buying the tickets or not?” I didn’t buy them. instead, I opened my backpack right in front of her and slowly put the gold bracelet I had bought for her onto my own wrist. “Mom, since you don’t want to live, there’s no point in giving you this bracelet.” 4 She stopped trying to drown herself. She stomped back to me through the sand. “A gold bracelet for me? Good. It’s your sister-in-law’s birthday soon. I was worried about a gift. This will be perfect. She’ll be so happy.” She reached out to grab it, but I pushed her hand away calmly. “Mom, since I’m ungrateful, I’m keeping this for myself. If you want one, let your filial son Jason buy it for you. You can give it to whoever you want then.” “You!” Her eyes were red with rage. “Are you crazy? That bracelet is thousands of dollars! You expect Jason to buy that? Are you insane?” I wasn’t insane. I had just woken up. For years, my mom gave her money and labor to Jason’s family, yet told everyone he was taking care of her and I did nothing. Fine. Then I would truly do nothing. No money, no effort, no love. I wanted to see how Jason would “take care” of her. Seeing she couldn’t get the bracelet, she sat on the sand and started wailing. “Everyone come look! This ungrateful daughter is trying to kill her own mother! Judge for yourselves!” People gathered. “She took you on a trip, you should be happy. Why the temper?” She retorted immediately. “Happy? How can I be happy when she only brought me? My son and his family are waiting at home!” People were confused. “If your son wants to come, he can come. What’s the problem?” “But this ungrateful girl won’t buy their plane tickets! It costs over a thousand for the four of them! My son works so hard and doesn’t even make that in a month. You think it’s simple?” 5 The crowd was stunned. “Ma’am, are you saying your daughter has to pay for your son’s family vacation?” “Shouldn’t she?” My mom argued back. “She has money and doesn’t take care of me. My son makes no money but takes care of me. Shouldn’t she treat her brother’s family to a trip?” A young woman in the crowd laughed out loud. “Ma’am, sounds like you’re a free nanny for your son, paying your own way to serve them. And you call that him taking care of you? Hilarious.” Everyone laughed. “Exactly. Sad to see such bias.” “Slaving away for your son and convincing yourself he’s a saint.” “If my daughter took me on a trip and I called her ungrateful, I’d deserve to be left alone.” Seeing no one on her side, my mom went berserk. She threw sand at everyone. “Get out! Get lost! None of your business!” People scattered, laughing. My mom jumped up and grabbed my hair. “Book the tickets! Now!” I refused. I told her, “If you leave now, you can catch the train. Any later, and you’re stuck here.” She looked ready to explode. Just as she raised her hand to hit me, Jason called. “Mom, we’re packed. Did you get the tickets? Oh, and my in-laws want to come too. I’ll send their info to Hannah. Tell her to buy their tickets too. Hurry up, we’re waiting.” She panicked. “Did you hear that? Six tickets! Hurry!” Hilarious. Even her daughter-in-law’s parents? I’d have to be insane to waste my money like that. I took my daughter’s hand to head back to the hotel. Suddenly, my mom snatched my daughter from me and held her over the water. “Hannah! Do you want your daughter to live? If you don’t buy the tickets, I’ll throw her in right now! It’s just money! Do you love money more than your kid? Tell me!” 6 My daughter screamed, kicking her legs, reaching for me. “Mommy! Mommy!” I panicked. “Mom, put her down! She’s three! Don’t scare her!” She laughed maniacally, shaking my daughter over the waves. “Hahaha, scared now? You know how it feels to worry about your child? Now you understand me? I ask you to spend a little on your brother and you complain. You even tried to send me back alone. Hannah, you are a selfish wolf! I wasted my life raising you!” I only saw my daughter’s red, tear-streaked face. My mom was right; I was terrified. As she lowered my daughter closer to the water, I screamed, “I’ll buy them! I’ll buy them right now! Just put her down!” She stared at me. “Show me the confirmation. Once I see it, I’ll give you back your money-loser. Otherwise, I’ll make you regret this forever. You’ll never forget you killed your daughter over a few thousand bucks.” The crowd was furious. “Ma’am, this is kidnapping!” “That’s your granddaughter! Too far!” “Look at the poor kid. You don’t deserve to be a grandmother.” My mom didn’t care. “Hmph! I don’t want to be her grandmother. I have two grandsons. Who cares about a granddaughter? Her mother is ungrateful; she’s paying for her mother’s sins!” My daughter screamed for me. My hands shook as I tried to buy the tickets. It was just money. Nothing compared to my daughter’s life. I’d give my own life for hers.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386566”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The second I was reborn, I signed the divorce papers without a moment’s hesitation. Terry Vance’s mistress was all over the news. To save her from the “homewrecker” label, he’d come to me with the papers, his voice pleading. “Leo died saving my life,” he’d begged. “Molly is his only sister. I can’t just abandon her. You understand that, don’t you?” Years ago, Terry had been targeted by a business rival. His car’s brakes were cut. In the final, spinning moments of chaos, his best friend, Leo, had thrown himself into the driver’s seat, wrenching the wheel. Terry walked away without a scratch. Leo bled out on the asphalt, his last breath a plea for Terry to look after his little sister, Molly. For years, Terry had honored that debt, showering Molly with a devotion that bordered on obsessive. In my last life, when I realized he was willing to sacrifice me for her, I shattered. I tore the divorce papers to shreds. But it ended the same way. The stomach cancer diagnosis came later. By then, I was ready to let Terry go, to let myself go. But Molly’s whispered words, “Do you think she’s faking it just to torture you, Terry?” sealed my fate. He became convinced I was lying, that my illness was just another manipulative game. To escape the media storm and finalize our split, he framed me for cheating and sued for divorce. Hopeless, I ended my own life. 1 “Vivian, we’ll tell the public we were planning to divorce a year ago. We’ll say we kept it quiet for personal reasons.” I was staring into a glass of water on the restaurant table when Terry’s voice cut through my thoughts. Just yesterday, the paparazzi had released photos implying Molly was his lover. The word “mistress” exploded online, and a tidal wave of hate crashed down on her. Terry Vance, CEO of Vance Corporation, was branded an adulterer, and the company’s stock plummeted overnight. In my last life, I’d laughed at those grainy photos, scoffing at how easily the public could be misled. My laughter died on my lips the moment Terry slid the divorce papers across the table. It turned into a bitter, endless irony. I had screamed at him then, demanding to know what was real and what was a lie. There were a million ways to handle a baseless rumor, yet he chose the one that threw me to the wolves. “Vivian,” Terry’s voice pulled me back to the present. “Trust me, this is just for show. Once the dust settles, we’ll get married again.” I slowly lifted my head, my gaze falling on the document between us. “You have to understand, Vivian. I’ll make it up to you when this is all over, I promise.” He wrapped an arm around me, his eyes, so often lauded for their depth and sincerity, searching mine. He softened his voice, a low, cooing tone he used when he wanted something. I remained silent. Standing beside him, Molly looked ghostly pale, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Vivian, please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m begging you, please help us.” “My brother is gone. I have no one else… I don’t know who else to turn to. Please.” With that, she went rigid, as if to drop to her knees. Terry moved like lightning, catching her by the waist and pulling her into his arms. “What are you doing?” he hissed at Molly, but his sharp, irritated glare was fixed on me. “I’ve already made my decision. I expect you to cooperate at the press conference tomorrow. Or else—” “I’ll sign.” I cut him off, tired of watching their pathetic charade. And I knew exactly what “or else” meant. In my last life, not long after I tore up the papers, I was drugged and photographed in a compromising position with a stranger. The “evidence” of my affair was leaked. Overnight, I went from being the victim to a reviled slut. And they, the ones truly at fault, walked away clean, their reputations scrubbed spotless. 2 Terry blinked, clearly stunned by my quick agreement. “I’ll sign,” I repeated, “but on one condition.” I looked up at him, my gaze as calm and still as a frozen lake. A complex emotion flickered across his face. After a short pause, he nodded. “Anything. Name any other terms you want. I’ll do my best to meet them.” I didn’t answer. I just picked up the pen, flipped to the last page of the agreement, and signed my name—Vivian Sterling—with a steady, clean stroke. “You’re not even going to read the terms?” Terry’s brow furrowed, his eyes filled with a confused, searching light. I smiled faintly. “No need. It doesn’t matter.” I capped the pen and pushed the document toward him. “Is there anything else?” My voice was flat, as if I were discussing the weather. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. We’ll go to the courthouse.” I gave a slight nod but said nothing more. Terry’s expression was a tangled mess of emotions, but in the end, he just sighed, turned, and left. Molly followed him. At the door, she paused, glancing back at me from the corner of her eye. A smirk played on her lips. Slowly, deliberately, she mouthed three words: I won. Then she was gone. In my last life, she did win. And I lost everything. But this time, I refused to lose. Not one single thing. A while later, my phone screen lit up. A message from Ryan. Viv, I heard from Terry. I know what he did was wrong. But you know how long it took him to get over Leo’s death. He’s pouring all his guilt for Leo into taking care of Molly. He told me that once the media storm dies down, he’s going to throw you another, even grander wedding. Just trust him, okay? I let out a soft, humorless laugh, but my eyes burned with tears. It was the same script as last time. When Terry couldn’t get me to sign the papers, he’d turned to his friends for advice. He’d forgotten that his friends were also my friends. Blinded by his own drama, he couldn’t see the truth. But Ryan could. Ryan had tried so hard to talk sense into him, begging Terry not to throw away his marriage for Molly. Then he’d come to me, singing Terry’s praises, telling me what a loyal and honorable man he was. If Leo hadn’t shielded Terry with his own body, Terry would be dead. Back then, I had sobbed, my words choked with rage. “He’s put her first for years! I know he feels guilty, and I’ve tried to be understanding. But now… there are a million ways to clear up this mess, and he chooses to sacrifice me—to sacrifice twelve years of our life together.” Ryan had opened his mouth, but no words came out. He had asked Terry the same question. Terry’s answer had been chillingly simple: “Someone has to get hurt. I can only fail Vivian. She loves me. She’ll understand my position.” Just because I loved him, I was the one to be sacrificed? What kind of twisted logic was that? Thankfully, this time, I still had a chance to save myself. 3 When it came to Molly, Terry was ruthlessly efficient. He got the signed papers from me one day and scheduled a press conference for the next morning. I was sitting in the garden when Terry’s assistant, led by our housekeeper, approached me. “Ms. Sterling,” he said, his tone formal. “Mr. Vance sent me to escort you to the Vance Corporation press conference.” Before I could reply, he must have mistaken my silence for refusal. He relayed Terry’s message verbatim. “Ms. Sterling, even if it’s not for Mr. Vance’s sake, you should attend for the sake of your own reputation.” I paused, then let out a small, dry chuckle. He was threatening me again. Afraid I’d back out at the last minute, resorting to the same tactics that broke me in my past life. He was willing to ruin me to protect Molly, to bend me to his will until I had no choice but to obey. I’d never understood it. In Terry’s heart, was I his wife or his enemy? Now, he wanted to publicly clarify our relationship. So did I. The car glided toward Aethelburg’s most luxurious hotel. The entrance was a chaotic sea of reporters and flashing lights. The assistant guided me through the throng and into the lobby. “Excuse me, please make way.” Terry’s voice came from behind. I turned. Molly, a vision in a white dress, was on his arm. They looked like a perfect couple. My eyes met Terry’s. For a fraction of a second, we locked gazes, and then he looked away, his expression coolly indifferent. He guided Molly forward, their movements intimate, as if the world around them—including me—didn’t exist. A self-mocking laugh escaped my lips. “Ms. Sterling, is it true that you and Mr. Vance are divorced?” The question came from a young man who looked like an intern, his voice timid. “Yes,” I replied, a polite smile on my face as I nodded. He seemed determined to find a crack in my composure. “But… you and Mr. Vance met in college, didn’t you? You dated for five years and were married for seven…” he pressed on. “Just last month, he bought you a luxury yacht. And the fireworks display for your birthday was the talk of the city…” My smile didn’t waver, but my eyes were distant. “He owed me that.” He missed my birthday because Molly had called him, whispering, “Terry, I miss my brother. Can you stay with me?” The yacht and the fireworks were his apology gifts. In my last life, I’d been so proud of those grand gestures. It never occurred to me to question the reason behind the “compensation.” I only learned later it had all been Ryan’s idea. Terry hadn’t been involved at all. He didn’t even know where the fireworks had been set off. “You say he owed you,” the intern persisted, his voice laced with nervous energy as the surrounding noise faded. “But what about your feelings for Mr. Vance?” Terry’s head turned toward me, his brow slightly furrowed. I smiled, a slow, chilling curve of my lips, and my gaze turned to ice. “I don’t love him anymore.” 4 The intern started to ask another question, but a senior reporter beside him pulled him back. I didn’t stay for the rest of the conference. Once I had clarified my relationship with Terry, I turned and walked away, ignoring the cameras that followed my every move. Overnight, public opinion did a complete 180. My interview dominated the headlines for days. Terry’s statement was the nail in the coffin: “Miss Molly was not the reason for the breakdown of our marriage,” he had said, his voice firm and resolute. “Her brother was a hero who saved my life. Molly is his only living relative, and it is my responsibility to care for her. Please, look at this situation rationally.” “Vivian and I mutually decided to end our marriage a year ago. We simply hadn’t found the right time to announce it. We wanted to handle this in a way that would cause the least amount of pain to everyone involved. We are making this public now to clear up any misunderstandings about Miss Molly.” Instantly, Molly was absolved. The “homewrecker” label was peeled away, and she was recast as the tragic, innocent victim of the whole affair. And I became the villain. The cold, heartless woman who had initiated the divorce. The internet trolls, guided by carefully placed whispers, began to speculate about the real reason for our split. I wasn’t supportive enough. I was jealous of Molly. I had twisted their pure, sibling-like bond into something sordid. I was a gold-digger who had abandoned Terry for a bigger payout… I stood at the center of a storm of accusations and lies. “Don’t pay any attention to what they’re saying online,” Terry said as we walked out of the courthouse, the fresh divorce decree in his hand. “Give it time. People will forget.” I shot him a look dripping with irony. We were both being savaged online, but somehow, Molly’s pain was unbearable while mine could simply be weathered with time. “Vivian, the holidays are only three months away,” he continued, his voice softer now. “You always loved the spring. When spring comes, we’ll have another wedding. A better one. What do you say?” His voice was low and gentle, laced with a fragile, cautious hope. He reached for my hand, but I shifted away, my eyes fixed on the reporters being held back by bodyguards a short distance away. Terry seemed to sense his misstep and took a half-step back, creating a space between us. “Terry, I’m going back to Willow Creek.” “That’s a good idea. Spend some time with your parents. I’ll come get you for the holidays and we’ll—” “I’m not coming back,” I said, cutting him off. He froze, the faint smile on his face stiffening. “Vivian, don’t say things you don’t mean. Just wait for me in Willow Creek. I’ll—” “Terry,” I interrupted him again. “You made me a promise when I signed those papers. It’s time to keep it.” He stared at me, his expression blank. When this all began, a small, foolish part of me had wondered if things could be different this time. But the moment he put those papers in front of me again, all I felt was a profound sense of release. “Terry Vance, I want you to never appear before me again for the rest of your life.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386582”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I actually turned into a dog. Not my childhood sweetheart’s dog, but his depressed younger brother’s dog. The System said I have to lick him a hundred times to turn back into a human. “If it’s too hard for you, forget it. After all, you like someone else.” How can I forget it? My heart was screaming yes, please. If his brother wasn’t so aloof and unreachable, I wouldn’t have liked him in the first place. 1 I was reborn as a Bichon Frise belonging to a sickly, depressed boy. The System told me I needed to lick him a hundred times to become human again. “Lick where?” The System blushed. “Anywhere.” My paw pressed against his rock-hard abs. Hmm, premium dog food. “Baby, are you hungry?” Being looked at with concern by a face as handsome as Asher’s would melt even the coldest woman’s heart. The brooding, silent god of the school was calling me “Baby” in private. I like the contrast. I licked and slurped like a starving ghost, and his entire face turned red. Gone was his usual pale, sickly look. The System gave a thumbs up: [Impressive. You even got the depressed boy to overheat.] In my memory, Asher was gloomy and sensitive. Because he was sickly from a young age, he was always “less than” compared to his older brother. His parents’ favoritism was wider than the Pacific Ocean. Living in his brother’s shadow gave him childhood trauma, he was isolated at school… And finally, he developed depression. The only thing he could confide in was this little Bichon. After transmigrating into the dog, the System said: “If it’s too hard, forget it. You like his brother, so this feels a bit like forcing you to cheat.” Forget it?! My heart was screaming yes, please. If his brother wasn’t so aloof and unreachable, who would like him anyway? 2 Asher treated the dog very well. Premium beef, foie gras, fish—everything was on the menu. Not being a corporate slave and just being a dog was actually quite happy. I planned to enjoy the good life for a while, finish the mission, and run. But good times don’t last. Asher got kicked out of the family home by his brother. The reason was that Blake lost something important and suspected Asher hid it. Asher didn’t say a word. He packed his bags and left. Seriously? Is this how the world treats depressed people? The System said: [Of course. He has the ‘Gloomy Male Lead Rise to Revenge’ script. Later, a heroine will come to heal his emotional wounds.] [Then he becomes the Wolf of Wall Street and takes back the family empire.] I was excited: “So I have the ‘Redemption Heroine’ script?” The System rolled its eyes at me: [Didn’t you die from food poisoning after eating a sketchy discount meal at the start?] Me: …Right. Asher moved into a rental. During the move, his psychosomatic symptoms flared up, and he couldn’t stop shaking. I trotted over with his medicine in my mouth. He stared at me, tears streaming down his face. “Baby, you should go. I can’t afford you anymore.” “No more steak or bird’s nest soup for you.” “No more soft, fragrant bed.” “Maybe I’m just a failure. No one will ever like me.” In that moment, my heart squeezed. Asher really seemed to have only me in his life. In that family, his father didn’t care, and his mother didn’t love him. He could only confide in a dog— Like how he was actually an illegitimate child, a half-brother to Blake. Like how all the bullying he suffered after middle school was allowed by the family. Like how if he didn’t move out, the next one to die would definitely be him. 3 After moving into the rental, Asher found me even clingier. Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, I slept on his abs. Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, I slept on his thighs. Trying to use doggy warmth to comfort him. “Baby… you can’t sleep there.” “It’s dirty…” “Come here, let me hug you…” Yeah, Asher was blushing furiously because of me. He was talking more, too. This was a good start. But when he ate takeout with me in the rental, he was always guilty. “Baby, you’ve lost weight being with me.” “Just endure it a little longer. I’ll go make money.” The System was shocked: [Lost weight? I can’t tell the difference between her and a pig anymore!] I looked at my chubby paw. Right, I need to be a pretty dog. So I resolutely picked up my chicken drumstick and dropped it in Asher’s bowl. Asher was so moved that his tears fell into his chicken rice. The boy swore he would earn ten million. With newfound motivation, he went to work at a construction site the next day. 4 Asher moved bricks during the day for $200 and studied at night. He missed his SATs because of his depression. This time, to give me a better life, he was going to take back everything that belonged to him. Because moving bricks was exhausting, Asher fell asleep almost immediately after studying. He hadn’t needed sleeping pills for days. In the warm duvet, tucked in his arms, I traced his tired features. “System, seeing my man work so hard for us ‘mother and child,’ I feel happy but also heartbroken.” The System sneered: [Your man has another woman outside.] My pupils dilated. [The Male Lead met the Female Lead today.] [The heroine inspected the construction site today and took a liking to him.] [This is just the first step. She will visit the site many times to bond with him.] [With money and love thrown at him, I don’t know how he could refuse.] The System said the heroine was the daughter of a real estate tycoon. She had an arranged marriage with Blake, but hated it. So she hated Blake too. Until she met Asher, understood his pain, saw his gentle heart, and fell madly in love. She redeemed him with money and love. Hearing this, I couldn’t hold it in. Why didn’t a passing celebrity come to redeem me when I was eating discount meals and dancing for eight hours in my rental? Justin Bieber, Harry Styles… what are you guys doing? [I advise you to finish the mission and leave quickly. You aren’t the one to redeem him anyway. Why bother?] Makes sense. I’m just a passerby. Finish the mission and go. The rest is none of my business. I asked the System: “How many more licks to become human?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386598”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The System ordered me to humiliate the impoverished villain. But I’m a total coward. I could only tremble as I dropped a chicken drumstick from my bowl into his. “I… I licked this! Now you have to eat it!” The villain, whose eyes were originally filled with gloom, paused. I thought I had succeeded in degrading him. Later, when I found out his mom was hospitalized and he needed money, I tried to escalate the bullying. I threw a black card at him. “Get on your knees. Be my dog, and lick my shoes clean!” His eyes darkened. He crouched down, gripped my ankle, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Okay.” Later, the System came to check on my progress as a vicious antagonist. I excitedly slapped the villain across the face. He looked at me with restrained endurance, his voice husky. I bragged to the System, “See? He’s totally humiliated!” The System sneered. “You idiot! He’s getting off on it.” Huh? While I stood there stunned, I felt a wet, tingling sensation on my fingertips where I’d touched him. 1. I’ve been in this book for a month. And I’m still a wimp. The System was losing its mind: 【Seriously, what are you waiting for? You’re the spoiled heiress! Are you scared of a scholarship student?】 【Go! Humiliate him! Show him the cruelty of society!】 I cowered. “H-how do I bully him?” Before I transmigrated, I was a good girl. I didn’t know how to be mean. Plus, I was terrified. Jax, the villain, had muscles that looked like they were carved from granite. I heard he fought in underground cages for cash. One swing of his arm and I’d be paste. Right now, he was eating quietly in the cafeteria. On his tray, there was only a dry bun and some free pickles. The System urged me: 【Stop stalling! Go flip his tray and make him lick the floor!】 I took a deep breath, grabbed my lavish lunch tray, and marched over to Jax. He looked up. He stared at me expressionlessly, then went back to eating his bun. I shouted his name ferociously, “Jax!” He lifted his eyelids, raising a brow. He didn’t speak. He just looked at me. The pressure was suffocating. My hand shook as I used my chopsticks to drop a chicken drumstick—one I’d already taken a bite of—into his bowl. “It’s got my saliva on it. You have to eat it!” I felt like a monster. Making the future villain eat my leftovers? That’s peak humiliation. Guilty, I met his gaze. “What are you looking at? I hate you! I don’t want this anymore, so you lick it clean!” The cafeteria went silent. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up because I saw Jax’s knuckles turn white. I went too far. The next second, Jax reached out. I flinched, expecting a punch. Instead, he deliberately picked up the chicken leg. Under my shocked gaze, he bit down exactly where my teeth marks were. “…” “You… why did you eat it?” His throat moved as he swallowed, the action making my cheeks burn for some reason. “Isn’t that what the Princess wanted?” This reaction was completely off-script. I opened my mouth, but my rehearsed insults died in my throat. “You… you…” He narrowed his eyes, wiped his hands, stood up, and leaned close to my ear. “Did you want to watch me lick it clean, Princess?” “…Who wants to watch that!” I covered my burning ears, shoved him away, and ran out of the cafeteria. The System was speechless: 【Why are you running? You look like the victim here.】 【New plot point incoming. His mom is sick. Go throw money at him and make him your dog!】 2. I gritted my teeth and had the butler withdraw a bag of cash. Dressed in designer clothes, I arrived at Jax’s home. It was in the projects, a run-down apartment complex. I raised my hand to knock, but the door opened from the inside. The System scoffed: 【Why are you so polite? Kick the door open! It looks like you’re here to deliver a care package.】 Jax looked pale. He froze when he saw me. Hearing the System’s nagging, I gathered my courage. “I heard your mom needs $50,000 for surgery, I…” Jax cut me off with a glare. “You investigated me?” I was so scared I forgot my lines. The System screamed in my brain: 【Throw the money in his face! Humiliate him!】 I mentally hyped myself up. Then, I smashed the bag of money against his chest. Bills scattered everywhere, some drifting into the apartment. “So what? Kneel and pick it up!” My voice trembled. “Be my dog, and this money is yours to save your mom!” Jax stood motionless, his jawline tight. The hallway was terrifyingly quiet, save for his heavy breathing. Suddenly, a weak cough came from inside the room. Jax stiffened. The storm in his eyes vanished, replaced by a dead calm. He slowly crouched down, one knee touching the floor. His long fingers picked up the bills one by one. This man, who beat opponents into submission in the ring, kept his head down and said in a terrifyingly calm voice: “Okay.” The System cheered: 【He’s definitely feeling the ultimate shame right now. He pretends to agree, but he probably wants to kill you.】 I decided to press my advantage. I extended my foot. “This dirty hallway ruined my shoes.” “Lick… I mean, wipe them clean.” Jax looked up. His eyes were dark abysses. “Chloe, do you know what you’re doing?” 3. It was the first time he called me by my name. My heart skipped a beat. In the original book, the villain held grudges like no other. Once he got power, everyone who wronged him suffered. And I was top of the list. I wanted to cry. “Boohoo, I’m scared.” Why did I poke the bear? I’m dead meat! The System cursed: 【I just praised you, and now you’re wimping out?】 【Once the plot is done, you leave this world. When he gets powerful, you won’t even be here. Be fiercer!】 Oh, right. I inflated instantly, deliberately tapping his knee with the toe of my shoe. “Who allowed you to speak to me like that?” “Jax, do you want to save your mom or not?” “I return disobedient dogs!” Jax closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently. He looked like he wanted to crush me. If he crushes me, I’ll just be flat Chloe. A moment later, he dropped to one knee. I stepped back in fear, but he grabbed my ankle. His palm was hot and dry, sending a shiver through me. “W-what are you doing?” I tried to pull back, but his grip tightened. “Didn’t the Princess want her shoes cleaned? Why are you hiding?” The corner of his mouth hooked up. He lifted the hem of his tank top, revealing sharply defined abs. My eyes widened as I watched him use his own shirt to gently wipe the tip of my shoe. He was so close I could smell the faint scent of soap on him. I could even see the outline of… muscles under his gray sweatpants. My face was burning. The skin on my ankle where he held me felt like it was on fire. “Your dress got dirty too.” Jax’s voice was low and raspy. His fingers grazed my calf. “Do you need me to take it off and wash it for you, Princess?” “N-no!” I panicked, threw a debit card on the ground, and shook him off. “Who said you could talk? Get to my house!” “My dog lives with me. On call, 24/7.” Then, I ran for my life. 4. Back in my room, I buried my face in my pillow. The System spoke up: 【Critical plot point passed successfully.】 【That confident exit was very cool.】 Is it possible I was just running fast because I was terrified? 【By the way, I picked up a side gig. You’re on your own for a bit. Remember, boss him around and humiliate him!】 “Okay.” The System vanished. At midnight, I got thirsty and went downstairs barefoot for water. I bumped right into Jax. “Why are you here?” My butler had reported that Jax’s mom was settled in the VIP ward with a private nurse. Jax had stayed with her until 10 PM. Suddenly seeing him, I patted my chest. “Trying to scare me to death?” “Kneel and apologize!” After a day of this, I had mastered the art of being a brat. Jax’s eyes were dark, making him look scary in the dim light. I regretted it immediately and thought about just walking away. Suddenly, my feet left the ground. I lost my balance and clung to his neck for dear life. I grabbed his hair. “Pervert! How dare you touch me? I’ll punish you!” He set me down, but placed my feet on top of his own shoes. “The floor is cold,” he rasped. I looked down. He was wearing the fluffy slippers I told the maid to buy for him. “How will you punish me, Princess?” His hot hands gripped my waist. The shame skyrocketed. I slapped him. “Bad dog! Don’t touch me without permission!” Jax’s head turned to the side from the force of the slap. He ran his tongue over his teeth. A hint of gloom surfaced in his eyes. I thought, It’s over. Then I saw blood on the other side of his face—old blood he hadn’t washed off. “Why is your face injured?” My heart softened. I touched it gently. “Does it hurt?” Jax’s breath hitched. He clenched his fists. “Did you go fighting again?” He was silent. But he didn’t stop moving. He scooped me up princess-style and carried me to the sofa. He even found socks for me. When he stood up, I pulled his shirt up. Bruises and scars covered his torso. “I gave you money. Why do you still do dangerous things?” He calmly pulled his shirt down. He looked at me. “Is the Princess heartbroken?” “I-I am not! Don’t flatter yourself. I just want to play with my dog.” “Only I can bully you. No one else.” He swallowed hard. His gaze was obscure. It made my heart race. I stood up to avoid his eyes, threw the first-aid kit at him. “Heal up and serve me properly. If I see you injured again, I’m replacing you.” As I walked upstairs, I heard his reply. “Understood.” “The Princess can bully me as much as she wants.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386614”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The first person I ran into after getting out of prison was Ava. I was squatting on the curb, shoveling down a cheap box of takeout. And there she was, the woman who once had to grovel before everyone, now towering over me in a perfectly tailored, expensive dress. Her first words were, “Ethan, you’ve lost weight.” I looked up at her but said nothing. “Don’t you have anything you want to ask me?” Ava pressed, a flicker of anxiety she couldn’t quite hide in her voice. I just shook my head slightly. There was a time when I did, right after she’d sent me to prison. But five years is a long time. The unspoken questions had long since faded into nothing, taking my feelings for her right along with them. … My silence made her face stiffen, though she recovered quickly. She handed me a bottle of water she must have just bought, her movement awkward. “Don’t choke.” It was free, so I didn’t refuse. I thanked her in a low voice. I could see she was holding something back, but she didn’t speak, and I didn’t ask. I mechanically finished the last few bites of food, then stood up and swung my leg over my beat-up electric scooter to continue my delivery route. As I put on my helmet, she called out my name. “Ethan!” I turned back out of habit. Her voice was laced with an almost desperate plea. “If you ever need help, you can call me.” I managed a small smile. “I don’t think there will be an occasion for that.” I delivered food until midnight. Back in my cramped, rundown apartment, I rolled up my pant leg and expertly applied ointment to my knee. Unlike most people’s, my kneecaps are deformed. Five years had passed, but the memory of the bones being shattered into splinters was still sharp. The pain always came back—on damp, rainy days, in the humid darkness of my cell, after the numbness of a long day running around on my feet. It would awaken suddenly, tormenting me over and over. Just like the memory from six years ago, the one that felt like my soul being sliced apart, piece by piece, when I learned I was just a pawn in Ava’s meticulously crafted game. But time, thankfully, grinds everything down. My wounds were slowly healing. The next morning, I woke early. It was the anniversary of my grandmother’s death. She was the only person in this world who had ever truly wished me well. I requested the day off, changed into a faded old shirt from seven years ago, and went to the cemetery. I brought her a bouquet of roses, still wet with morning dew. Roses aren’t typical for gravesites, but this was the first time I’d come to see her, and I wanted to bring her something she would have loved. I knelt before her headstone and talked for a long time, only stopping when I heard footsteps behind me. Deep down, I think I knew who it was. But when I turned and saw Ava, my breath still caught in my throat. She had shed the designer clothes for a simple white dress. So simple it made my head spin. For a fleeting moment, she wasn’t the ambitious, power-hungry Ava I knew. She was just the girl from my childhood. Clean and pure. Ava and I were practically childhood sweethearts. Before I could even form proper memories, I was abducted by traffickers. It was my grandmother, who scraped by collecting recyclables, who saved me. After that, she raised me as her own. It’s doubly hard for an old woman to raise two children, but she never let me go without. Whatever Ava had, I had too. Ava was smarter than me, so Grandma would have her tutor me. When Ava went out to play, Grandma made her take me along, telling her to hold my hand tight. When Ava got new clothes, Grandma would have a matching set ready for me. … We were inseparable in those years. The neighbors would always tease, calling me Ava’s “little groom-to-be.” Ava never denied it. She would just ruffle my hair and say softly, “Then you’ll have to marry me when you grow up, okay?” It was around then that I started to notice her feelings for me, the love hidden in her actions. How her things were only for me to touch. How she would appear at my side the moment I needed her. How she would kiss my forehead as if I were a precious treasure while I slept. The year we finally let things fall into place and got together was the year everything started to fall apart. I was found and taken in by my biological family, the Prestons, and Ava started her own business. Her world expanded overnight. I was no longer the only one in it. Now, there was my younger brother, Caleb. Ava once asked me tentatively, “We don’t have as much time alone now. Does that… upset you?” I still remember the answer that has haunted my nights ever since. “Not at all,” I’d said. “I’m happy that you and my brother get along so well.” My words became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Ava and Caleb grew closer at a suffocating pace. They joked, they argued, they sulked, and I, the “older brother,” was always the one who had to play mediator. The first real alarm bell went off when I noticed how, in the middle of some casual banter, Ava would remember Caleb’s preferences with unnerving precision. She knew he was allergic to peanuts, that he hated cilantro, that his favorite vegetable was enoki mushrooms. Once, when the three of us were out for dinner, the first thing she ordered was garlic butter enoki mushrooms baked in foil. But Ava had forgotten. I’m allergic to garlic. In the space of a single month, Caleb had replaced twenty years of my life. The pent-up hurt and panic finally boiled over, and I confronted her. She just looked at me with cold eyes. “Ethan,” she said, her words sharp and deliberate, “you’re being ridiculous. Do you hear yourself?” It was the first time I had ever seen that coldness in her. Before, she would have pulled me into a frantic hug, whispering over and over, “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I made my Ethan sad.” Tears welled up in my eyes, but she remained unmoved. Her expression even soured with annoyance before she turned and left me standing there, walking upstairs alone. I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob. A moment later, I heard footsteps on the stairs again. I froze when I saw it was Caleb. But my vision was clear enough to see the triumphant glint in his eyes. He walked right up to me and roughly wiped the tears from my face. “Aww, big brother, it breaks my heart to see you cry,” he sneered. “But what can you do? Nobody cares about you anymore.” “Whether you came back or not, Mom and Dad only ever had eyes for me. And now, even Ava is on my side. Tell me, how are you going to compete with me now?” My world tilted. The words wouldn’t come out right. “Caleb, you…” “Don’t call me that!” he snapped, the polite facade shattering. “Every single day I had to pretend with you made me sick.” “If it wasn’t for Ava, do you really think you’d ever have the chance to call me brother? You idiot!” He spun around and went back upstairs. The same stairs, the same confident stride, but two different people. In a single day, I had gone from the cherished center of the universe to a complete and utter outsider. The raw betrayal and malice left me stunned. I couldn’t accept it, and I was terrified that the next words I heard would be Ava telling me it was over. So, I started avoiding them. Frantically. Ava noticed. She cornered me, waiting outside my door, leaving me no room to escape. “Ethan, we need to talk.” I shook my head and backed away. For every step I took, she advanced, until my back hit the wall. I was trapped. The moment she opened her mouth, I wanted to clap my hands over my ears. But her words came out in a rush, too fast for me to react. “If we got married, would you stop all this worrying?” Ava was a woman of her word. The very next day, she took me to the city hall. With the marriage certificate in hand, we moved into the small bungalow my biological family had given me. My so-called parents had no real feelings for me; they barely tolerated my presence. The house was just a formality, a way to keep up appearances. I once suggested we bring Grandma to live with us, but Ava refused. She gave no reason, and I chose to remain silent. I chose to trust her, making time to visit Grandma whenever I could. I thought the marriage certificate was our final safeguard, that Ava would finally draw a line between herself and Caleb. But in reality, they started seeing each other even more often. So often that I began to doubt every word that came out of her mouth. Before I could even recognize the precarious state of my own mental health, my bottled-up emotions erupted. It was my birthday. The same Ava who had once promised to spend every birthday with me chose to leave me behind to attend a gala with Caleb. The last thread of my sanity snapped. I stormed into the ballroom, ignoring the shocked stares, and confronted Caleb. “You know what she is to me! Why do you always have to get between us?” I yelled, my voice shaking with rage and despair. “She’s your sister-in-law! How could you keep trying to seduce her?!” Caleb looked at me with wide, terrified eyes. “Ethan, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re scaring me.” “Stop pretending! You admitted it yourself, didn’t you? That you only got close to me to get to her!” Whispers spread through the room. What brought me back to reality was the sharp sting of Ava’s hand across my face. “I know you’re paranoid, Ethan, which is why I married you! But that doesn’t give you the right to push your luck and slander Caleb!” she hissed. “Security, get this madman out of here!” The guards were fast. They roughly clamped a hand over my mouth and dragged me out. I struggled, but it was useless. As I got closer to the exit, the chatter of the high-society guests grew clearer, drilling into my ears. “Tsk, tsk. What a lunatic.” “More than that, he’s completely unhinged. I feel sorry for whoever married him. He’s completely ruined Ava’s night!” “If it wasn’t for Ava’s competence, this whole project would probably be dead in the water…” I was the one on the marriage certificate. I was the victim. Why didn’t anyone believe me? I closed my eyes, tears streaming from the corners. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. I went home. For the first time, I didn’t touch the glass of milk the housekeeper always prepared for me on Ava’s orders. I showered and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I don’t know how long I lay there before the tears started. I cried until I drifted into a heavy, exhausted sleep. In the hazy space between sleep and waking, I felt a heavy weight press down on me. Even after our fight, my body reacted instinctively, moving to welcome her. Until my hand, fumbling in the dark, touched the thick, fleshy waist of a woman. My heart plummeted. It wasn’t Ava. Ava’s waist was soft and slender. The woman clearly hadn’t expected me to wake up. Her face was a mask of shock and panic. In the faint moonlight filtering through the window, I saw the grotesque body. Overweight, stout, and radiating a cloying, suffocatingly sweet perfume. A single glance sent my stomach churning. The woman scrambled to grab her clothes and run, but she tripped and tumbled down the stairs. It was only then that my mind caught up. I went insane, grabbing a fruit knife from the nightstand and chasing after her. Seeing the knife in my hand, she shook her head, begging. “I’m sorry, please don’t kill me, I’m begging you.” My entire body was trembling, bile rising in my throat, but I started to laugh. “So, you can feel fear?” I whispered, my voice ragged. “Why would you be afraid? You shouldn’t be afraid at all.” I was rambling. By the time I came to my senses, the woman’s face and body were covered in a crisscrossing web of cuts. I dropped the knife in a panic and stumbled into the bathroom. I couldn’t stop washing myself, trying to scrub away the memory of her touch from every inch of my skin with soap and water. I was still standing under the shower when Ava came home. She froze in the doorway as if turned to stone. After what felt like an eternity, she wrapped her arms around my waist, her voice trembling uncontrollably. “It’s okay, Ethan. It’s okay. I’m here now.” It was the first time I had ever been assaulted. I was terrified and disgusted. I wanted to push her away. Her embrace felt suffocating. But besides Grandma, she was the only person I had ever trusted without reservation. For the next few days, Ava didn’t leave the house. She cut off all contact with Caleb. She started taking care of me around the clock. When my fever wouldn’t break, she changed the cool cloth on my forehead countless times. When I woke up screaming from nightmares, she would soothe me back to sleep. When I became afraid of seeing people, she severed all business ties with the outside world. A pathetic fantasy began to bloom in my mind: maybe Ava really did care about me. Until Caleb showed up with a stack of contracts, and a series of photos of strange women. “You probably don’t recognize this face,” he said, holding up a picture, “but your body… it certainly does, doesn’t it?” “Thanks to you, she green-lit Ava’s project.” He laid them out one by one. Each photo corresponded to a contract. By the end, my head was roaring. “What… what do you mean?” Caleb let out a low chuckle, a sly, malicious glee in his eyes. “Still don’t get it, my dear brother?” “Ava… she’s using you as a stepping stone to climb to the top! Your marriage certificate is a fake. Do you have any idea how many people have slept in your bed?” There was a deafening crash, as if something inside me had collapsed. “You’re lying!” I screamed. “Am I? Why don’t you take a look for yourself and find out?” Caleb gave me one last look, a mixture of pity and contempt, then tossed a USB drive on the floor and left. I scrambled to pick it up, plugged it into my laptop, and clicked on the video file… On the screen, a parade of unfamiliar women appeared, one after another. They keyed in the password to my front door like they owned the place and walked straight into my bedroom. My body in the videos was flushed an unnatural red. Then the camera would shake, and the scenes that followed were too vile to watch. No, this can’t be right. I was with Ava… My chaotic gaze swept across the room and landed on the empty milk glass on the nightstand. It froze there. Suddenly, everything made sense. All the kindness Ava had ever shown me twisted into sharp blades and plunged into my heart. Just then, the door opened. Every emotion I had suppressed exploded at once.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386630”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On my eighteenth birthday, all I wanted was a slice of cream cake. Instead, because I didn’t crack the top ten in my mock exams, my mother told me I might as well be dead. I sat on the rooftop, crying quietly. The firefighters spent ages trying to talk me down. But my mom? She slapped me across the face, shoving me while screaming, “Why don’t you jump? Go ahead, jump!” She pushed too hard. I fell. The firefighter broke down in tears. On my eighteenth birthday, the results of the second mock exam came out. I choked. I ranked eighteenth in my grade. The moment I saw the ranking, I started shaking. Nausea roiled in my stomach, spasms racking my body. I almost threw up. My mother’s voice crashed through my mind like a nightmare. “Lily, you are my pride. You must study hard. Don’t disappoint me!” “Lily, everyone laughs at me for not having a son. But I will prove to them that my daughter is ten thousand times better than their sons!” “Lily, if you dare slack off, I will die right in front of you. I will die with my eyes open!” … Cold sweat broke out on my skin. My face felt unnaturally hot, my breathing ragged. Eighteenth. If I didn’t make the top ten, Mom would go crazy. After school, I walked home in silence. Up ahead, I saw a girl throw herself into her mother’s arms, sobbing about how poorly she did on a test. Her mother hugged her tight, saying it didn’t matter, that she could just try harder next time. I clearly saw her mother wipe a tear from her eye. She was crying, too. My heart clenched. Why was it so easy for other mothers to cry for their daughters? Over the years, I had become obsessed with other mothers’ tears. The neighbor would tear up when her daughter scraped her knee. My desk mate’s mom would cry just seeing her daughter had lost a little weight. The single mom who ran the convenience store downstairs would often touch her daughter’s face with misty eyes. Why? Why was it so easy for them? Back home, the table was set with steaming dishes and my favorite cream cake. Mom had prepared it specially for me. She ran out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Her weathered face was lit up with an expectant smile. “Lily, save the cake for later. How did you do? Did you make the top ten?” I kept my head down, my mind a chaotic mess, still thinking about other mothers’ tears. “Speak, Lily. What was your rank?” Mom stopped smiling. Her thin frame seemed to hunch over, her expression hardening instantly. “Eighteenth,” I whispered, my throat feeling like it was filled with lead. My fingers trembled. I added hurriedly, “Mom, I promise I’ll make the top ten next time!” I fantasized that she would comfort me. That she would urge me to eat the cake. That she would say it was okay, just do better next time. But she said nothing. She just stared at me, her eyes slowly turning red. Not from sadness. From rage. “Lily, good for you. You’re getting worse and worse. Are you studying with your ass?” Mom screamed, “Tell me, how are you studying? Do you know how hard I work for you? I get up before dawn to work. Look at my hands!” She thrust her hands out. They were covered in deep, jagged cracks—scars of years of hard labor, healing and splitting open again and again. “Look closely! All of this is for you! To pay rent, to buy food, to buy you clothes!” She pressed her palms right in front of my face, panting. Then she pointed at the door. “Do you know what people say about me? That I can’t have a son! All our relatives have sons, except me!” “My only hope is you. You must get into Harvard or Stanford! You must make something of yourself! Do you understand?!” This was the craziest she had ever been. Because the SATs were approaching, and she was more anxious than anyone. If I failed, her life would dim forever. She would lose the last bit of pride keeping her upright. I squatted on the floor and cried. The image of other mothers’ tears filled my mind again. Why was it so easy for them? “Mom… if I were a boy… would I not have to work this hard?” I finally asked the question I had buried deep in my heart. Since I was little, I wondered why I always had to be compared to other people’s sons. I was a girl. “You have the nerve to ask? If you were a son, would people look down on me?!” It was like I poked her rawest wound. She roared, “I’m the only one in the village without a son! The only one in the family! Do you know how people stab me in the back?!” “They say you’re a money-losing investment! If you don’t make me proud, who will?!” She spoke her truth. Tears streamed down my face. “I’m not a money-losing investment… I don’t want to be compared to boys anymore. I’m so tired…” “Tired? What work have you done? Do you know I work until I cough blood every day? What right do you have to be tired?” She raised her hand to slap me. I looked at her. “So tired… tired enough to die…” “Then go die! Go die!” The slap didn’t land, but her disappointment was crushing. She flipped the table. Dishes crashed. Food scattered everywhere. Mom stormed into her room and slammed the door. I stood there, lost. I stood for a long time, then turned and walked toward the roof. The sunset was beautiful. I stood on the roof, looking down at the traffic, listening to distant laughter. I felt dazed. So tired. Even standing was tiring. So I sat down. I sat on the edge of the low, old rooftop, my legs dangling over the seven-story drop. Down on the street, someone spotted me and screamed. “Look! Someone’s going to jump!” Gazes turned upward, shocked and chaotic. I snapped back to reality. Oh, they think I’m going to jump. “Little girl, don’t jump! You’re so young!” “Don’t move! Go back inside!” People shouted at me, concerned and anxious. My heart warmed slightly, then ached even more. Why did strangers care more than my own mother? I wasn’t going to jump. I just wanted to sit here. I wanted to wait for Mom’s concern. Ideally, her tears. I wanted her to cry for me just once. The firefighters came. They inflated a cushion below. Several firefighters came up to the roof. The neighbors were all alerted, peeking from the stairwell. I watched them silently. I watched the firefighters getting closer. “Little girl, don’t be impulsive. Calm down first…” A young firefighter raised his hand, greeting me gently. I sat silently. He kept talking to me, trying to soothe me, distract me. But I had no emotions left. His words spun around in my ears and floated away. He talked until his lips were dry. Then my mom came up. The firefighters brought her to talk me down. But she was shocked and furious. She pointed at me in disbelief. “Lily Lin, you want to jump? Are you crazy?” “Ma’am, please calm down. We need to stabilize your daughter’s emotions,” the firefighter signaled her to stop. Mom took a deep breath. Her eyes turned red again. She held out her hands once more, showing those gnarly scars. “Lily, look at my hands. Where have I failed you? You just have to study! How does that make you tired enough to die?” She questioned me, urgent and angry. My heart trembled. I didn’t want to see her hands. I didn’t want to see them at all. Those hands crushed me. They were her suffering, her sacrifice for me. Seeing them made me feel guilty and sad. I had failed her. “Little girl, your mom loves you very much. She was crying when she heard you were up here. That’s why we let her up,” another firefighter said, giving the first one a look. The young firefighter stepped closer tentatively, reaching out. “Is the study pressure too much? It’s okay. We’ll talk to your mom. She’s wrong, but she has a sharp tongue and a soft heart. Look how worried she is…” He turned to my mom. “Ma’am, you love your daughter very much, right?” Mom pursed her lips, took a deep breath. “Yes. Lily, come down.” Mom admitted she loved me. I finally got a shred of concern. My heart loosened, and tears poured out uncontrollably. The firefighter seized the moment, grabbed me, and pulled me down. He exhaled a long breath, patting my head. “Okay, okay. Don’t think silly thoughts.” I said ‘okay’ in my heart, looking at Mom through my tears. Even though she still hadn’t cried for me, I really wanted to hug her. She rushed over and slapped me across the face. Her face was tight with rage, eyes bulging, veins throbbing in her neck. “Lily, jump then! Why aren’t you jumping? You ungrateful thing, where do you get the nerve to act like this?” I was stunned. The firefighters were stunned. “How did I give birth to such an ignorant thing? Are you only happy when you’ve completely humiliated me?” Mom roared. She screamed at me, at the firefighters, then over the edge at the crowd below. “Come look, everyone! I don’t care about my face anymore! My daughter is so filial, jumping off a building!” A deep chill settled in my bones. I suddenly realized that saving face was what mattered most to her. I was a girl, so I was shameful. I wasn’t better than my relatives’ sons, so I was shameful. My suicide attempt caused a scene, so I was shameful. “Mom, so you want me to jump,” my tears stopped strangely. My voice was dry, my eyes dull. “Yes, jump! You’re an embarrassment!” She kept cursing, shoving me with both hands. “Jump! I raised you for nothing! Jump!” She was frantic, seemingly forgetting how low the parapet was on this cheap rental, forgetting I was right next to the edge. Her shove sent my body tilting backward. My center of gravity shifted over the abyss. In the next instant, I fell. The last thing I saw was Mom’s face morphing from rage to pure horror. Seven stories. Twenty-one meters. Two seconds of free fall. Maybe two seconds. One breath. Smack. I hit the ground. My eighteen years of life, smashed onto the pavement. Pushed by my own mother. Flesh tore, bones snapped, blood seeped from every pore… “Ah!” Screams erupted. The street was in chaos. People recoiled in horror. The firefighters manning the cushion rushed over—I hadn’t landed in the center. I clipped the edge and hit the ground, blood staining the side of the yellow plastic. I didn’t die immediately. I hit an awning on the way down, so my legs and hips took the impact. I was groggy. I didn’t feel much pain, just exhaustion. Bone-deep tiredness. Then, lightness. So light. My body and soul felt weightless, like a dandelion seed floating on the asphalt. “Little sister!” The young firefighter from the roof burst out of the stairwell. He was sweating profusely, face pale, eyes full of disbelief and confusion. “Don’t touch her! Ambulance!” another firefighter yelled, holding back the crowd. The young firefighter didn’t come close. He just stood there staring at me, shaking uncontrollably. He seemed to care about me. I felt a trace of joy. Someone cared. Maybe he was a rookie. Maybe I was the first person he tried to save. Too bad I failed him. “I saved her… I had her…” he stammered, trembling. His colleagues held him back, shielding his eyes. The ambulance arrived. I was lifted onto a stretcher in a daze. Or maybe scooped up. My lower body was shattered. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was Mom. Where was she? I wanted to see Mom. I wanted to see her cry. That was my only wish left. Mom, please cry. Finally, she appeared. She walked out holding the wall for support, her face blank and numb. People made way for her like she was a plague. She saw me on the stretcher and stood there, dazed. Was she in shock? “Why did you push your daughter?! Are you human?!” The young firefighter saw her and snapped. He screamed, eyes red, pointing a shaking finger at her. Mom flinched, like her soul slammed back into her body. Realization hit. Her face went paler than death, then flushed an unnatural waxy red. Her breathing hitched, like she couldn’t catch air. “I talked her down! Why did you push her?! Why?!” He was still screaming, tears streaming down his face. My weightless soul felt another flicker of joy. Someone was crying for me. But why wasn’t it Mom? Mom didn’t cry. She bit her lip until it bled, clenching her fists until the veins popped. She walked toward me, step by stiff step. Like a broken robot. “Drive! Family, get in!” the medic shouted. The ambulance was leaving. Mom took two quick steps, stumbling, almost falling. She was finally close enough. She could see me. I started hallucinating. Was I still alive? Were my eyes open? Was it me looking at her, or my soul? Mom was pushed into the ambulance by a firefighter. She squatted stiffly beside me, staring stiffly at me. Her lip was bitten through, bleeding. Her arms were rigid. But still, she didn’t cry.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386646”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In the city of Southwood, during a prestigious violin competition, my father’s illegitimate daughter snapped my bow in half. I snatched hers, took the stage, and played a melody so breathtaking it stunned the entire audience. Sarah, the illegitimate daughter, fled the country in tears, humiliated by the crowd’s mockery. That night, my childhood friends—twin brothers from the wealthy Sterling family—both proposed to me. After some thought, I chose the older brother, Liam. But eight months later, as I lay hemorrhaging during childbirth, he looked at me with cold hatred. “If you hadn’t stolen Sarah’s bow, she wouldn’t have stayed away for so long. You ruined our future together. Now, you have to pay.” I begged the other twin, Lucas, to take me to the hospital. Instead, I heard him say to someone else: “She’s finally bleeding out? My year of personally overseeing her diet wasn’t in vain. When she bullied Sarah, did she ever think karma would come for her?” Only then did I realize their proposals were just revenge for Sarah. I died, taking my unborn child with me. A year later, Sarah returned from her “vacation” abroad to accept the marriage alliance with the Sterling family. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the violin competition. Everyone thought I would forfeit. Instead, I waved my hand. “Bring me my best violin! I’m going to make her cry so hard she won’t have tears left!” When my final note resonated through the hall, the applause was thunderous—far louder than what Sarah had received. Sarah stood frozen, hand over her mouth in shock. I glanced at her. “Now, someone can run away crying and buy a plane ticket to flee the country.” Just like she did in my past life. But Sarah didn’t move. She just stood there, slumped in disbelief. In that instant, a chill ran down my spine— Was she reborn too? In my past life, even after she left, she kept tabs on everything back home. That’s why she returned to marry into the Sterling family the moment I died. Only someone who knew my fate in the previous life would be this shocked to see me fight back with my best violin instead of quitting. But she was wrong. Her schemes from the past life wouldn’t break me this time. I came back for one thing: to slap them all in the face. Having delivered my perfect opening act, I bowed deeply to the audience and prepared to leave. But just as I was about to exit, two pairs of hands grabbed me. “Frost, your performance was exquisite. We are both captivated. Which of us has the honor of winning your favor?” My heart skipped a beat— Liam Sterling. Lucas Sterling. In my past life, they only came to propose after I left the venue. Why were they doing this publicly now? Looking into their eyes, my breath hitched— I wasn’t wrong. These were the same cold eyes that watched me bleed out in agony in my past life. So… They were all reborn. “Neither.” I shook them off and walked away. “Frost.” Liam, the older brother, called out to me. “This competition was organized for the purpose of a marriage alliance. Since you participated, you should follow the rules.” I paused— This was a marriage alliance competition? No wonder Sarah targeted me so viciously. I turned to look at the brothers. Though they were smiling at me, their eyes kept darting toward Sarah, who was crying in the corner. They couldn’t hide the heartache in their gaze. I felt a wave of irony wash over me— In my past life, just because Sarah said she didn’t want to see me, they conspired to kill me and my unborn child. In this life, were they trying to avenge Sarah in a different way? I smiled. “Do you really want to marry me?” “Of course, Frost.” Both men stepped forward, dropping to one knee, looking up at me with devotion. “We grew up together. I promise I love you more than my brother does.” “No, Frost. I may not be as mature as my brother, but I swear I will love you with everything I have!” I pointed at Liam, just like in my past life. “I choose you.” Liam’s lips curled into a smile, as if he expected this. But then I added: “The dowry is 100 billion dollars. Do you accept?” “What?” The brothers looked up in shock. Even Sarah couldn’t help but step forward. “Sister, marriage isn’t a business transaction. How can you bully the brothers like this!” “Since when does an illegitimate daughter have the right to speak here?” I shot her a cold glance. Just that one look made both brothers stand up instantly, shielding Sarah behind them. As if I were about to hurt her. I laughed. It was a bitter, mocking laugh— Once, they protected me like this too. They swore to guard me for life. We were born when our families were on the brink of collapse. To help Liam escape assassins, I dressed as him to lure them away and broke my leg in the process. To help Lucas, who had rare blood, recover from injuries, I donated blood until I passed out, multiple times. They once held me, swearing to repay me with their lives, working tirelessly to restore their family’s glory just to protect me. But the moment my father brought Sarah home, their world narrowed to just her. If Sarah said she liked something, they would take the gifts I painstakingly prepared and give them to her. If Sarah shed a single tear, the two who never dared speak a harsh word to me would demand I take responsibility for her sadness. Looking at the two men guarding Sarah like a treasure, I sneered. “See? You don’t genuinely want to marry me. 100 billion is a lot, but it’s not something you can’t afford. “If you aren’t even willing to show this much sincerity, how can I trust you?” I turned to leave. “Wait!” They called out in panic. Liam gritted his teeth. “Okay…” “Really?” I turned back immediately, handing over a hastily drafted asset agreement. “Then sign it.” Liam frowned, but he signed. That day, the brothers left with the teary-eyed Sarah, leaving me alone at the venue. But I didn’t care. The moment the 100 billion hit my account, I made a call. “Yes, I’m coming to Europe to find you. When will I return?” I laughed. “I won’t be returning.” There was a pause on the other end, followed by a low chuckle. “Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Song.” Hanging up, I looked at the endless zeros in my account and smirked— Did they really think I’d marry either of them? But considering what they did to me in my past life, this compensation was well-deserved. I didn’t care where Sarah or the brothers went. I packed my bags and had a farewell dinner with my friends. But in the middle of the party, a group of bodyguards stormed in and dragged me away. When I opened my eyes, a slap landed hard on my face. Lucas looked down at me with contempt. “Bitch! The Sterling family already gave you 100 billion. Why won’t you let Sarah go?!” I was stunned. Only then did I see Sarah, dressed in tattered clothes, sobbing in Liam’s arms. “I know Sister is marrying into the Sterling family and plans to leave the country, but why couldn’t she let me go? She sent a dozen men to… to ruin me? “If the brothers hadn’t arrived in time, I would have…” Even the usually calm Liam had veins popping on his hands. “Song Frost.” His voice was colder than in my past life. “Apologize.” “Heh.” I spat out blood. “You believe the words of an illegitimate daughter?” Sarah cried even harder. The brothers looked at her with undisguised heartache, then shouted at me: “Song Frost! Kneel and apologize!” I lifted my chin high. “No. If anyone should apologize, it’s this bitch and her shameless mother who drove my mom to her death!” “You!” Another slap hit my face. Liam struck me for the first time. “I’m asking you one more time. Will you kneel?” My vision went black, ears ringing. I could barely stand. But I gritted my teeth and squeezed out a sentence: “Only if you kill me!” “Heh…” Liam laughed in anger and nodded. Immediately, someone dragged me to the swimming pool. A kick to the back of my knees forced me down with a splash. “Death is too easy for a vicious woman like you. You should taste what you did to Sarah.” My head was pushed down, inches from the water. Terror made my breathing erratic. “No! Liam! Lucas! You know I’m terrified of water!” “Push her down!” My face submerged. The suffocating feeling brought back the memories— Back when the brothers were thrown into the sea by enemies, I desperately pulled them to shore, only to be swept away by a riptide. Rescue teams searched for three days and nights before finding me clinging to a piece of drift wood, unconscious. Since then, I’ve been terrified of water, even pools. In the past, if anyone even pointed a shower head at me as a joke, the brothers would cut all business ties with them, ignoring their begging. Now, they were drowning me themselves over a fabricated crime. The bodyguards dunked me repeatedly. My lungs burned, heavy and unable to breathe. Finally, Sarah whimpered that she forgave me, and they threw me onto the ground. I couldn’t breathe. I reached out weakly toward them. “Help me… I… can’t breathe…” “Stop acting.” They quickly shielded Sarah behind them. “What you suffered isn’t one-thousandth of what you did to Sarah. Trying to play the victim now?” I couldn’t speak. My face was turning blue. But they only saw Sarah’s red eyes. They left with her immediately, abandoning me. Darkness took me. When I woke up, the doctor sighed. “Lucky the cleaner found you. How did you manage to drown in such a shallow pool?” I couldn’t speak. “Speaking of which, you almost died. Why isn’t your family here?” Family? Thinking of my late mother, I held back tears. “They’re busy…” “Busier than the family next door? “The girl in the next room, I heard her two brothers are CEOs. They stopped doing business just to be with her, even though she wasn’t even hurt. You’re much worse off. “Think her name is Sarah Song. Sounds like yours.” I closed my eyes and said nothing. I discharged myself that day, unwilling to hear the laughter from the next room. Liam didn’t contact me for a while. When he heard nothing from me, assuming I had learned my lesson, he messaged: [Engagement ceremony tonight.] I didn’t refuse. I even arrived half an hour early. Everyone said I was eager for this engagement. The brothers thought so too. But once everyone arrived, the big screen suddenly played the footage of me being drowned in the pool. My desperate screams echoed through the hall. Liam frowned deeply. “What are you doing!” I stood up and took the microphone. “Everyone saw what the Sterling brothers did. From today on, I, Song Frost, sever all ties with Liam and Lucas Sterling!” “Oh my god! Didn’t the Sterling brothers propose? Are they bullying their fiancée and future sister-in-law for an illegitimate daughter?” “Even if she wasn’t their fiancée, that’s too cruel!” “Miss Song is right! Cut them off!” … “I’m sorry! It’s all because of me that the brothers are being blackmailed by my sister. I’ll leave now. I hope sister can calm down!” Sarah suddenly cried and turned to run. The brothers quickly pulled her into their arms, frowning at me. “If you want to throw a tantrum, don’t drag Sarah into it! Explain yourself and apologize to her!” “Apologize to an illegitimate daughter? Seriously?” “You!” “Liam. Lucas.” I looked at them steadily. “We will never see each other again.” I brushed past their shoulders and walked away. They froze. Just as they were about to stop me, my father’s voice boomed: “Scoundrel! Who are you calling illegitimate!” I turned to see my stepmother, Linda Liu, crying in his arms as they walked out. Father took the microphone. “I’m sorry, everyone. Actually, Song Frost is my illegitimate daughter. For years, I pitied her for losing her mother, so I claimed Sarah was the illegitimate one. “But I didn’t expect Song Frost to be so ungrateful. Bullying Sarah was bad enough, but now she insults her at her own engagement! “I won’t indulge her anymore. Today I’m telling you all— “Song Frost is the child of my first love. Her mother died before we could marry. Sarah and my wife pitied her, which is why she acts so entitled.” “What?!” The crowd was shocked. “So Song Frost is the bastard!” “Her mom got pregnant out of wedlock? Tsk tsk! Like mother like daughter.” Only Liam and Lucas weren’t surprised. They narrowed their eyes at me. “We knew you bullied Sarah long ago.” “Heh…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386662”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I was reborn, I dodged every opportunity to bond with the parents who had found me after fifteen years of separation. They decided to hand the family empire to my older sister, Minkie. So, I dropped my business major and applied to a geology program in the rugged wilderness of Alaska. They wanted to throw a lavish birthday gala for Minkie, so I volunteered for a remote field expedition. They bought Minkie a limited-edition sports car as a graduation gift. I “sensibly” walked into traffic, breaking both legs just so I could say I didn’t need a car. In my past life, I starved for my parents’ affection until the day I died, despised by everyone. Even my own son, in my old age, would frown at me and say, “Mom, can you stop competing with Aunt Minkie? Why can’t you just live quietly? You’re embarrassing me in front of my friends.” I died full of resentment, only to open my eyes and find myself back at the moment I was eighteen, just found by my biological family. This time, I’m done fighting. I will let them have their perfect, happy family. 1 Staring at the “Application Submitted” notification on my laptop screen, I calmly closed the browser tab. No one knew this was the second time I had filled out my college applications. In my previous life, I followed their orders. I attended a top-tier Ivy League business school, desperate to stay close to them, desperate to mold myself into someone worthy of the prestigious Vanderbilt name. After all, ever since I—the lost daughter returned after fifteen years—came back, I had been nothing but a stain on their reputation. But in this life, before they could even broach the subject of Minkie taking over the company, I spoke first. “Dad, Mom, I’ve applied to the University of Alaska for Geology.” The silence at the dinner table was deafening. My father, Richard, set down his fork, his brow furrowing deeply. “Geology? In Alaska? What are you going to learn there? How to dig for rocks in the snow?” My mother, Eleanor, let out a soft gasp, her eyes wide with undisguised shock. “Sophia, honey, is it your grades? Did you not score high enough? It’s okay, we can make a donation to…” I had been back for nearly two weeks, yet neither of them knew I was a straight-A student. They simply assumed the girl from the foster system was uneducated trash. “My scores are perfect,” I cut her off. “I chose it because I like it.” Minkie sat across from me, feigning concern. “Sophie, are you under too much pressure lately? That kind of place is brutal. I know you’re used to… hardship… but is this necessary?” I looked at her. In my past life, she always played the saint, yet her words were laced with barbs designed to trigger me. She remained elegant and poised, while I looked like an ungrateful savage screaming at her. But in this life, her hidden thorns couldn’t pierce my skin. “I’ve thought it through,” I said, lowering my head, my voice even. ” The application is in. It can’t be changed.” The air grew stagnant. Richard finally scoffed. “Fine. It’s your choice. Don’t come crying to me when you regret it.” Eleanor sighed, and for the first time, she used her serving chopsticks to place a prawn in my bowl. “Let’s just eat. We can discuss this later.” I didn’t touch the prawn. She didn’t know I was severely allergic to shellfish. Minkie, however, loved seafood, so the family ate it almost daily. Every meal here felt like navigating a minefield. For the rest of the dinner, the three of them chatted happily. I finished quickly and excused myself, abandoning the exhausting effort to fit in that defined my previous life. I knew now that this house never had room for me. 2 Back in my room, I opened my calendar. Forty-three days until the semester began. I took a red marker and drew a small ‘X’ over today’s date. Every day was a countdown to my escape. I looked around the room. Every piece of furniture was expensive, imported, and utterly soulless. It looked like a showroom in a luxury catalog, not a home. To me, it couldn’t compare to the drafty, creaky farmhouse my foster parents owned. That place was freezing in winter and sweltering in summer, but it was filled with the warmth of life. In the fifteen years of my past life, I drained all my passion and hope within these cold walls. I learned etiquette, forced myself to get perfect grades, gave up the major I loved, and even married into a strategic alliance they chose—all to beg for a scrap of warmth from my “family.” And what did I get? My parents’ exasperated sighs: “Sophia, why can’t you be effortless like Minkie?” My sister’s gaslighting: “Mom, Dad, don’t blame Sophie. She just cares too much about what you think.” My husband’s cold indifference: “Sophia, aside from your last name, is there anything about you that actually belongs in this world?” And finally, my son’s rejection. I died of illness caused by decades of depression. I fought for a lifetime, only to be detested by everyone. The phantom sensation of suffocation still lingered in my chest. This time, I won’t fight. Your love, your company, your picture-perfect trio… I want none of it. I only want myself. The next morning, when I went downstairs, the living room was filled with laughter. 3 Minkie was nestled on the sofa, linking arms with Mother, resting her head on Eleanor’s shoulder as they reviewed the guest list in Father’s hand. “Let’s invite all the prominent families from the Hamptons and the City, Mom. I want a big birthday bash this year.” Minkie’s voice was sweet, almost childlike. “Of course, darling, whatever you say.” That was Mother’s voice, dripping with indulgence. “Minkie is a young woman now; it’s appropriate to invite important figures for networking,” Father added approvingly. They were a perfect oil painting of happiness. I was just a stray smudge on the canvas. I walked past them silently, heading to the kitchen for water. “Oh, Sophia, you’re up?” Mother saw me, and her smile instantly dimmed, her tone shifting to polite formality. “It’s your sister’s birthday early next month. We’re hosting a party here. You’ll attend, of course?” Next month. That was exactly when I planned to leave early for Alaska to acclimatize. In my past life, I canceled a crucial internship for this party—my debut as a Vanderbilt daughter. I thought it was my chance to belong. The result? Despite cramming etiquette lessons for a month, I was clumsy. Minkie’s sorority sisters pointed and laughed, and I became the evening’s joke. The fifteen years I was missing created a chasm between me and this glittering world that nothing could bridge. “No,” I heard my own voice, calm and steady. “I signed up for a pre-semester field orientation. I have to leave early next month.” The living room went silent. Minkie reacted first, a flicker of joy in her eyes masked by concern. “Field orientation? That sounds exhausting, Sophie. And dangerous, isn’t it? It’s so much nicer to stay home.” Richard’s brow furrowed again, visibly annoyed. “What kind of orientation is mandatory? Cancel it. It’s your sister’s birthday. How does it look if you’re not there?” Here we go again. My life, my plans, were always the ones that could be sacrificed. I gripped my glass, knuckles turning white, but my voice remained flat. “It’s booked. I can’t cancel.” “You!” Father started to raise his voice. Mother quickly intervened. “Alright, alright, if she doesn’t want to go… It’s good Sophia has her own plans. Just be safe.” I mumbled an acknowledgment and went back upstairs. Behind me, I heard Minkie’s gentle voice. “Mom, Dad, don’t be mad. Sophie just isn’t close to us yet. She’ll come around…” She was always the sensible one. And I was always the ungrateful wolf cub. 4 I tuned out the noise downstairs. In my room, I began to pack. I didn’t have much. The traces of my existence in this house were pathetic. Most of the clothes and items were things Mother had the housekeeper buy in bulk when I returned—expensive, but chosen with zero thought. There was only one small, battered suitcase containing the old clothes I brought from my foster home and a photo album. It held the only picture I had with my foster parents. In the photo, they held a skinny, scrawny me, their faces wrinkled with smiles, their eyes full of love. That was my real warmth. I rubbed my thumb over the photo, my eyes stinging. After I was abducted, the traffickers dumped me halfway because a girl wasn’t “worth much.” My foster parents saved me and raised me. Tragically, they died in a car accident earlier this year. It was the news coverage of that accident that allowed the Vanderbilts to find me. Sometimes, I wished they never had. I carefully tucked the album into the bottom of the suitcase. I took out my bank book. It held the savings from my part-time jobs and the small inheritance my foster parents left me. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough to get me to Alaska and cover my first semester’s rent. I didn’t intend to spend a single penny of Vanderbilt money. 5 Dinner that evening was tense. Father ate in sullen silence. Mother tried to lighten the mood, chattering about the menu for the party. Minkie played along, occasionally steering the conversation toward me, trying to bait me into a reaction. “Sophie, I heard the wind in the northwest strips your skin right off. It’s so dry. You’ll need a ton of moisturizer.” “Mm.” “The food there is really heavy and greasy, too. With your weak stomach, you should be careful.” “I know.” My cold, monosyllabic answers made Mother’s attempts at cheerfulness awkward. Finally, she put down her chopsticks. “Sophia, do you have a problem with us?” I looked up. Father glared at me, his eyes judging. Minkie wore her practiced look of worry. It was such a familiar scene. In my past life, any expression of pain or injustice was twisted into me “having an attitude” or being ungrateful. “No,” I said, looking back down at my plate. “I’m just an adult now. I want to walk my own path.” “Your path is running off to the tundra to suffer?” Father’s voice vibrated with suppressed rage. “Did we starve you? Did we deny you clothes? Why are you so desperate to leave this house?” Yes, I am desperate. I answered in my head. Out loud, I stayed calm. “Geology is a critical field for resource development. I find it meaningful.” I gave them a generic, noble answer they couldn’t attack. Father was stumped. His face darkened, but he couldn’t argue with “meaningful.” Mother jumped in. “Okay, okay, ambition is good… let’s eat, the soup is getting cold.” I was the first to set down my bowl. “I’m full. Please, take your time.” I turned and walked to the stairs. Behind me, I heard Father’s hiss. “Look at her! Look at how she was raised! Zero manners!” And Mother’s soothing whisper. “Hush, Richard. She grew up in the country. It’s normal for her to be short-sighted…” I entered my room emotionless. To them, I would always be the unwashed, short-sighted hillbilly. 6 I locked the door. Finally, peace. I opened my laptop and researched rental apartments near the university. Since I was leaving for good, I wouldn’t stay in the dorms. I needed a space that was entirely mine. After booking a small studio, I crossed off another day on the calendar. Forty-two days. Time was moving too slowly. For the next few weeks, I became a ghost in the house. They were consumed with Minkie’s graduation and birthday. No one paid attention to my “rebellion.” My parents bought Minkie a Range Rover for graduation. I happened to be in the driveway when it was delivered. Mother looked slightly embarrassed. “This is for your sister. If you want one…” I immediately cut in, playing the role perfectly. “I don’t need one. I don’t drive well anyway. It would be a waste.” Mother visibly relaxed. “We’ll pick something else for you next time.” There would be no next time. They would forget me the moment I turned the corner. I was used to being forgotten. And that was fine. I didn’t want their gifts. I spent my days at the library, leaving early and returning late. Occasionally, I’d run into employees from Father’s company. They would politely call me “Miss Sophia,” but their eyes held pity or disdain. Everyone knew I was the awkward appendage of the Vanderbilt family. Not like Minkie—the celebrated socialite, the pride of her parents. My existence served only one purpose: to prove the Vanderbilts were benevolent enough to take back the stray dog. How ironic. 7 The day of departure finally arrived. I booked a red-eye train ticket. I told no one. The night before, I dragged my packed suitcase into the living room. The three of them were on the couch watching a reality show Minkie loved, laughing together. The laughter died instantly when they saw the luggage. “Sister? What are you…” “My train is tonight. I’m heading to school.” I kept it brief. “Tonight? In such a rush?” Mother stood up, flustered. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ll have the driver take you!” “No need. I called a cab.” Father’s face was dark. He said nothing. “You child… why are you so stubborn?” Mother stepped forward to fix my collar, but I turned slightly, dodging her touch. Her hand froze in mid-air, her expression hurt. A faint ripple of emotion crossed my heart, then vanished. Some damage is permanent. The touch I craved in my last life was something I no longer needed in this one. “I’ll handle my own tuition and living expenses,” I said, looking at them like I was discussing the weather. “You won’t need to worry about me anymore.” “What nonsense are you spouting!” Father slammed his hand on the armrest and stood up. “Sophia! Do you have to be this dramatic? Has this family mistreated you? Is that why you’re talking like this?” “Richard!” Mother grabbed his arm. Minkie chimed in, “Dad, don’t be mad! Sophie didn’t mean it…” She turned to me, eyes pleading. “Sophie, apologize to Dad. You’re just angry, right?” I looked at them, and suddenly, I felt exhausted. “I’m telling the truth,” I said, gripping the handle of my suitcase. “I’m leaving.” I turned my back on their reactions and walked toward the heavy oak door. “Sophia Vanderbilt! If you walk out that door today, don’t you dare come back!” Father’s roar echoed through the high ceilings. My footsteps paused for a fraction of a second. I didn’t turn around. “Okay.” The word was barely a whisper, yet it took every ounce of strength I had. Then, I opened the door and stepped out.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386678”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel