Category: English

The new transfer student set her sights on my fiancé the moment she arrived. In the weeks leading up to Christmas break, she was everywhere—engineering “accidental” run-ins, asking for help with homework, trying way too hard. But only I know the truth about my fiancé, Silas. He’s dangerously possessive. And he has severe, crippling germaphobia. So, when she faked a stumble in front of him again, trying to look fragile and fall into his arms, Silas didn’t hesitate. He recoiled, letting her plunge straight into the swimming pool. As she resurfaced, sputtering and humiliated, his voice cut through the air, cold as ice. “If you’re done living, find a quiet place to die.” 1 My fiancé, Silas, is a possessive germaphobe. I’m the only person he can stand to have touch him. At his worst, he couldn’t even let his own parents get near. And as the only “leash” that could control this particular “wild dog,” I, the housekeeper’s daughter, started attending the same elite prep school as the young heir back in eighth grade. My first day, I was walking past a classroom in my new uniform skirt. Some idiot whistled at me. Silas grabbed a chair and threw it at him. Even at a prep school full of entitled rich kids, Silas was on another level. As he lunged forward, eyes red like a rabid dog, I just stood there. I called his name. Softly, just once. He froze. He turned, and the fury in his eyes melted into a look of pure, wounded grievance. The mad dog instantly became an obedient one. That day, the rumor that the “psycho campus king” had been tamed spread like wildfire. Soon, a new saying made the rounds: “Mess with Silas, and Hana might save you. Mess with Hana, and you’re dead.” It was a bit dramatic, but it was accurate. That rumor held true from middle school all the way through high school. Until our junior year, when some girl who clearly had a death wish decided to test it. 2 Our junior year, a new transfer student joined our class. Long hair, “pure” features. The moment she walked in, all eyes were on her. Not because she was stunning, but because she looked almost exactly like me. She even had the same brand of detached, cool aura. Silas stared at her for a long moment. As the girl, Bianca, walked past our desks, she brushed her hair back, shooting me a look that was pure challenge. A shame she didn’t see what I did. As Silas watched her, his brow furrowed by just a few pixels. After first period, I, as class president, was called to the office. The gist was: “Please take care of the new student.” I nodded, and when I got back to the classroom, Silas was waiting for me at the door, arms crossed. His face lit up when he saw me, and he started walking over. At that exact moment, Bianca, who was “passing by,” suddenly twisted her ankle on the perfectly flat floor, aiming herself precisely at Silas’s chest. Silas’s brow snapped down. He took one sharp step back. With a loud thud, Bianca hit the linoleum. Silas didn’t even give her a glance. He just walked straight to me, a small smile playing on his lips. 3 “What’s up? What did the teacher want?” From the floor, Bianca shot me a look of pure venom. Remembering the teacher’s request, I sighed and offered her my hand. The instant my fingers brushed hers, she yanked her hand back and flopped back onto the floor, hard. Her eyes filled with tears. “Hana,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I just got here. I don’t think I did anything to offend you… Why are you treating me like this?” She lowered her gaze, showing off her long, graceful neck. The tears glistening on her lashes were a nice touch. The other students milling about the hallway all turned to look. She thought she’d scored an easy moral victory. What she didn’t realize was that they were all just watching a train wreck. I’m known for being fair and kind at school. I don’t use my “mad dog” to bite people; in fact, I’m usually the one helping everyone else. It’s why they elected me president. Silas moved to my side, a protective, menacing aura rolling off him. The irritation was practically vibrating from his skin. The noisy hallway went silent. People slowly backed away, not wanting to be in the splash zone. But Bianca couldn’t read the room. She pointed at me, appealing to Silas. “Silas, look at her…” Before the psycho could fully emerge, I grabbed his hand. “Let’s go. It looks like some people don’t want any help.” In an instant, Silas’s world narrowed. The only things that existed were me and our joined hands. 4 We get a two-hour lunch break at our school, so most students go back to their dorms for a nap. I had to double back to the classroom to grab a textbook. As I passed the courtyard behind the cafeteria, I heard voices. The rich kids at this school can get into some pretty wild stuff. I’m not curious. I sped up, trying to ignore it. Then I heard my own name. “That bitch Hana is always in the way! Can’t you think of a way to get rid of her?” I glanced over. I saw Bianca, sitting on a stone bench, picking at a lunchbox. She wasn’t talking. Then I heard another voice, one that didn’t seem to have a source. “Then earn more conquest points. Once your points are high enough, you can have whatever you want.” It was a mature male voice, and it sounded close. But I scanned the entire courtyard and saw no one else. That, combined with the phrase “conquest points,” made a nasty little theory start to form in my mind. “You said this face was Silas’s favorite type!” Bianca complained. “Why doesn’t he seem to feel anything for me?” “How do you know he feels nothing?” the voice replied. “The conquest points went up by one.” I was… surprised. That psycho could actually be “conquered”? “So what now?” Bianca whined. “He’s not falling for the innocent, ‘green tea’ act.” “Then change tactics. Men like novelty. Hana is so aloof, she probably never gives him the time of day. You should try being more enthusiastic.” “Fine. I’ll do it your way.” … I slipped away without making a sound.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385993”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The seventh time Blake asked me to marry him, he told me to wear the dress. The white one. And the ring. I waited from sunrise to sunset at City Hall, a bride with no groom, only to find my humiliation broadcast across the city by a swarm of drones. I saw him then, his arm slung around Chloe, his childhood friend. He gestured back at me, a smirk playing on his lips as he addressed their friends. “See? Told you she’d do whatever I say. Pay up. A hundred bucks each.” Then his eyes, full of a familiar, malicious glint, found mine. “Ava, it’s just a joke. You’re not mad, are you?” he called out, his voice dripping with false concern. “Chloe needed an idea for a story, a little social experiment. We just wanted to see what would happen.” He let out a low chuckle. “I didn’t realize you were this desperate to get married. But then again, with your family bankrupt, who else is going to take you?” The group erupted in laughter and began to drift away. I managed a small, tight smile and raised my phone, dialing the number of his sworn enemy. “City Hall closes in an hour. Feel like getting married?” 1 The breath on the other end of the line hitched. A moment later, a low, masculine voice, laced with amusement, rumbled through the speaker. “You sure you have the right number? Little Ava, this is Ethan Grant. Not your precious Blake.” I glanced over at Blake, who was now laughing, utterly delighted with himself as Chloe clung to his arm. The pain in my chest was so sharp it had become a dull, constant ache. Ever since Chloe had moved back from her overseas assignment three years ago, the Blake I knew—the one whose world once revolved around me—had vanished, replaced by this cruel stranger. He used her career as an excuse, a shield for his increasingly twisted games. This was the seventh time. It would be the last. This time, I was the one leaving. “I know who you are. Are you in, or not?” “Fine,” he said, a note of finality in his tone. “Stay put.” The moment I hung up, a drone zipped down, its camera lens hovering inches from my face. The sound of Blake and his friends’ jeering laughter washed over me like a tidal wave. “Oh, look, she’s still keeping up the act!” “Get the camera right on her. Let’s see how good her performance is.” “Wow, she’s a natural.” Blake sauntered over, feigning annoyance as he stepped between me and the camera. “Alright guys, that’s enough.” He turned to me, his voice a stage whisper. “I mean, she’s wearing the dress and everything. It’d be a shame not to let her finish the scene, right?” The group roared. I stared at him, my body trembling with a rage so profound it left me speechless. He had insisted I wear this dress, and now he was using it as the punchline to his joke. His gaze dropped to my hand, and he snorted. “No way, Ava. You actually bought a ring? God, you’re desperate.” He grinned. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. We can make you famous today. We’ll call you the ‘Desperate Bride.’ You should thank Chloe. Without her story, you’d never get this kind of exposure.” Chloe linked her arm through mine, her expression a mask of gentle reprimand. “Oh, Blake, stop it. Don’t tease her. There’s nothing wrong with Ava wanting to marry the man she loves.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “Ava, don’t mind them. They’re just boys being boys.” “This was all for my story, you see,” she continued, her voice soft and earnest. “Just a social experiment. I told him it might be hard on you, but he insisted my work was more important. There was nothing I could do.” With a few placid words, she absolved herself, framing my public humiliation as a necessary sacrifice for her career. Blake hadn’t just played me for a fool at City Hall; he’d turned it into a city-wide spectacle, complete with a live drone feed. The old Blake—the boy who once tore through the city in the dead of winter to find me a specific kind of candy from our childhood that they didn’t make anymore—was gone. He’d been gone for three years. I pulled my arm from Chloe’s grasp. “I just never said I was here to marry him.” “Oh, Ava, stop trying to save face,” Blake sneered. “Your father’s in jail. You’re not a princess anymore.” 2 “You know what? I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” Blake continued, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “Gus can marry you. Yeah. That way, we can all still hang out sometimes. Keep you from going crazy when you can’t see me.” He shoved a short, heavyset guy with a face full of acne forward. “He’s a man, isn’t he? You should be grateful anyone wants you. Stop pretending you have options.” He watched me then, his eyes alight with a sick curiosity, waiting for my reaction. So, he knew. He knew how I felt, and he was using it to wound me. I recognized the man—Gus. One of Blake’s sycophants. He’d just gotten out of jail a few days ago, served a few years for what he did to that girl from state college. And Blake, in some twisted attempt to prove his loyalty to Chloe, was trying to pawn me off on him. My fists clenched at my sides. “No, thank you. My fiancé is on his way.” For a second, they were all stunned into silence. Then, a wave of derisive laughter broke over the plaza. Gus laughed so hard that tears streamed down his pimpled cheeks, looking at me like I was a lunatic. Blake waved the drones closer, directing them to focus tightly on my face. “Everyone get a good look! Remember this face. This is our city’s one and only Desperate Bride.” He shook his head, feigning pity. “Ava, are you delusional? Has wanting to get married finally broken your brain?” I saw Gus holding up his phone, the camera pointed at me. A live chat was scrolling rapidly on his screen, a torrent of digital venom. [OMG, this is so cringe. Showing up in a dress and ring to force a guy’s hand?] [Anyone in the chat wanna claim her? If you like ‘em easy, here’s your chance.] [This kind of girl is too much drama. Pass. Maybe for 100 bucks a night to help her out since her family’s broke lol. Support small business!] Gus grinned, flashing a set of yellowed teeth as he read the comments aloud. The humiliation was so public that even my father saw the news from the county jail. He called, his voice a furious rasp through the phone. “Our family would rather starve to death than pull a stunt like this! What is wrong with you, going to City Hall and making a spectacle of yourself? Have you lost your mind?” he yelled. “Chloe has a real, respectable career! What do you have? How dare you even think you can compete with her!” I’ll admit it. At first, my reason for wanting to marry Blake was tied to my family’s situation. That’s why I had let him humiliate me, time and time again. Even when I knew his marriage proposals were just ploys to appease Chloe and give her material for her sensationalist stories, I kept showing up. In the beginning, I would get angry. “It’s just a joke, Ava,” he’d say, his eyes cold. “Don’t be so sensitive.” Eventually, I just went numb. I always knew his friends looked down on me, saw me as a desperate clinger. In the past, Blake would have defended me, ready to fight anyone who said a bad word. Now, he was the one leading the charge, orchestrating my mockery for Chloe’s amusement. And this time, as if the private cruelty wasn’t enough, he’d invited the whole city to watch. The irony was, I’d known Blake longer than he’d known Chloe. The three of us grew up together, and for years, Blake couldn’t stand her. He used to say she was a phony, too calculating. But somewhere along the line, that changed. He started choosing her, over and over again, leaving me behind. Last year, for his birthday, I took time off work and flew in from out of state to surprise him. I spent three days and three nights in the freezing cold, setting up a huge outdoor party. My hands were swollen and raw by the end of it. But then, in the middle of the party, Blake got down on one knee in front of Chloe and declared his undying love for her. I stood in the snow, the tears freezing on my cheeks. Everyone cheered for them, a happy, roaring crowd. I was just outside the circle of their warmth, a lonely joke on the edge of their joy. 3 It felt just like that now. Except this time, I was certain I wouldn’t be standing alone. I took a deep breath, faced the cameras, and smiled. “Thank you all for coming to my wedding. My fiancé will be here shortly. Please be patient.” My words were a stone tossed into a still pond, sending ripples of shock and mockery through the crowd. “I’m dying! Is this woman for real? She’s completely delusional.” “Who’s gonna marry you? Someone from the livestream? Alright boys, hit ‘1’ in the chat if you want to marry her.” The chat feed flooded with a stream of ‘hell no’ and ‘run away.’ Blake crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips. “Ava, this act has gone on long enough. It’s going to be pretty embarrassing when no one shows up.” “Why don’t you tell us who this fiancé of yours is?” he taunted. “Did you hire an actor? How much does he charge an hour that he thinks he can keep us all waiting?” He was pretending to be annoyed at my non-existent fiancé, but his real target was me. The group behind him howled with laughter. I let my own smile widen. “Ethan Grant. Head of Grant Corporation.” Blake’s expression flickered, then he threw his head back and laughed, louder than before. “How many drinks have you had today? Ava, even if I gift-wrapped you and handed you to him, he wouldn’t look twice. Not after everything between us.” Chloe, ever the gentle mediator, wore a look of helpless concern. “Ava, please stop. Is it really that hard to just apologize to Blake? We were just running a test for my article. Now… now you’re just wasting everyone’s time.” Her sentiment was echoed by the others. “Yeah, is it so hard to admit that nobody wants you?” “Just get on your knees and beg Blake to call it off. Either that or marry Gus. I think it’s a great match, he knows how to handle women…” The men snickered, nudging each other. I squeezed my fists, my nails digging into my palms. “I told you. My fiancé will be here.” Blake waved a hand dismissively and had someone bring a chair for Chloe. “Alright then,” he said, settling in for the show. “Don’t blame me for what happens next.” He lit a cigarette and blew a plume of smoke directly in my face. Chloe coughed delicately, and Blake immediately panicked, crushing the cigarette under his heel. “Chloe, I’m so sorry, I forgot you hate the smell. I’ll quit, I swear. I’ll quit right now.” He frantically sent someone for wet wipes and breath spray, cleaning himself up as if he’d committed a cardinal sin. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I’m allergic to cigarette smoke. A severe, throat-closing allergy. The kind that has landed me in the emergency room, coughing up blood. Blake knew this. He never cared. When I first asked him not to smoke around me, he had exploded. “It’s my only vice, are you going to control that too? You think you’re my girlfriend or my warden?” he had snarled. “If you don’t like it, you can leave.” After that, I never mentioned it again. He seemed to find my silent suffering amusing, often blowing smoke rings in my face on purpose. Once, he and his friends locked me in a room, sealed the windows, and chain-smoked around me, calling it a “Smoke-Tasting Party.” They made me rank the brands from best to worst. When I pointed out the one that made my lungs burn the most, he made everyone smoke that kind for the rest of the night. My eyes were red and swollen, and later that evening, my throat and tongue went numb from the allergic reaction. I ended up in the ER. Twenty minutes had passed since my call with Ethan. He was always punctual, pathologically so. If he said he’d be there, he would. I wasn’t worried. They, however, were convinced I was bluffing. “She’s really committed to the bit, isn’t she? Does she actually think Ethan Grant is coming?” “‘My fiancé,’” one of them mimicked in a high-pitched voice. “God, how embarrassing.” “Hey Ava, there’s a 50-year-old bachelor back in my hometown who needs a wife. You should marry him. You’re not picky, right? As long as it’s a man.” “Oh, she’s picky!” another chimed in. “She brought the dress and the ring for Blake, didn’t she?” 4 I ignored their cackling, my brow furrowing in genuine confusion. “My dress and ring were for my fiancé. Is Blake my fiancé?” “Hahaha, you wish! But he’s got to want you first!” “Hey Blake, she’s asking you a question! You gonna marry her or what?” Blake held up his hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, no thanks! Pass! Not just anyone can walk through the doors of my house, you know!” A fresh wave of laughter. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. In that moment, any lingering trace of affection I might have had for him evaporated completely. The crowd of onlookers was getting restless. “I thought her fiancé was coming! Is she just messing with us? I have to pick up my grandson from school!” “Yeah, what a waste of time. Does she think we have nothing better to do?” A staff member from City Hall approached me. “Miss, are you getting a license or not? If not, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re holding up the line.” “Just five more minutes, please. He’s almost here.” Chloe seemed to finally take pity on me, shooting Blake a disapproving glare. He immediately deflated. She sighed and walked over to me, her voice soft with sympathy. “Ava, just stop. There’s no point in dragging this out. You’re only going to humiliate yourself further.” Her eyes were wide and earnest. “I know you’ve always wanted to marry Blake, but he doesn’t feel that way about you. Why are you trying to force him?” She placed a gentle hand on my arm. “A woman needs to have self-respect, Ava. You need your own ambition, your own career. What man could possibly handle this kind of desperation?” Every word was carefully crafted to sound like advice from a concerned friend, but the subtext was clear: I was a pathetic leech, incapable of standing on my own two feet. The crowd and the online viewers exploded. The narrative shifted instantly. I was now the other woman, the homewrecker, using manipulative tactics to trap a man who clearly loved someone else. [She’s a classic psycho ex. Can’t stand to see him happy with someone else.] [For the love of God, will some man just take this trainwreck off the market? So embarrassing! Didn’t her dad go to jail? Why didn’t they take her too?] [Chloe is a true class act. A real role model. It’s trash like this that makes things harder for all women!] Suddenly, Chloe was the icon of the modern, independent woman. I was the clinging vine, a disgrace to my gender. The commotion had grown so large that local news crews had arrived. A reporter shoved a microphone in my face. “Do you feel that your actions today are setting a bad example for women?” I knew that saying anything would only make it worse. All I had to do was wait for Ethan, get the license, and end this nightmare. But they weren’t going to let me go that easily. They started bringing up my family’s bankruptcy, spinning new lies about my father, demanding a full investigation into his taxes, insisting he should never be released. I couldn’t take it anymore. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, a raw egg sailed through the air and splattered across the bodice of my white dress. Then a second, and a third. My gown was streaked with foul-smelling, yellow ooze. The next thing I knew, an old man was charging at me with a bucket of sludgy water. “You made my grandson late for his own wedding registration!” he screamed, and heaved the contents of the bucket toward my head. Blake’s only reaction was to pull Chloe back, shielding her from the spectacle. I braced for the impact, but it never came. A warm, solid body pressed against mine, shielding me, absorbing the filthy deluge. I looked up into the sharp, stoic face of Ethan Grant. “I dare anyone to touch her,” he said, his voice a low growl that cut through the chaos. “Ethan.” “It’s okay,” he murmured, his arms a fortress around me. “I’m here now.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386009”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On my first day back home for the holidays, my mom pushed a young, hot guy into my arms. She winked and left me with a cryptic, “You know what to do.” I thought I understood the assignment. So, I took him upstairs and… had my way with him. Afterward, my mom asked, “So, where’s Leo? Did you finish his English tutoring session?” Looking at the exhausted man lying in my bed, I started to sweat. 1 My company gave me an extended break, so I happily dragged my suitcase home for the holidays. The moment I stepped through the door, my mom shoved a young guy toward me. She gave me a meaningful look and whispered, “You know what to do.” Then she grabbed her purse and sprinted out the door to her weekly bridge game. The guy was tall—at least 6’1″—with striking eyebrows, clear eyes, and a faint smile playing on his lips. He looked at me obediently and said, “Hey, Sis.” His eyes were innocent. He looked easy to trick. I immediately understood the assignment. I flashed an ‘OK’ sign at my mom’s retreating back, pulled the guy inside, and locked the front door tight. He watched me lock the door, paused, and let out a confused, low-pitched, “Hmm?” That sound. If I listened to it too long, I might get pregnant. I turned back, put a finger to my lips, shushed him, and took his warm hand to lead him upstairs. His fingers were long, smooth, and delicate. How does a guy keep his hands so soft? Although confused, he furrowed his brow but obediently let me lead him. It wasn’t until I pushed him onto the bed that he started squirming like a caterpillar, looking terrified. “Sis, what are you doing?” I straddled his waist, pinned his hands by his ears, and leaned down, whispering softly, “What else? It was going to happen eventually. We’re just… skipping ahead.” For a younger guy, he was strong. As soon as I finished speaking, he grabbed my shoulders. “Sis, think about this!” He turned his head away, cheeks flushing red as he stared at my wrists, his voice righteous and stern. He kept pushing, bending his long legs trying to dislodge me. I reached out and patted his handsome face. “Good boy, save your strength for later.” He tried to say something else, but I covered his mouth. “Shh. Don’t talk.” The struggling boy froze the moment I kissed his Adam’s apple. And then, it was like I hit a switch. In a split second, the innocent boy turned into a wolf. The world spun, and suddenly, I was the one being devoured. 2 My mom is the classic parent who banned dating in high school but started demanding grandkids the second I hit college. In college, she told me to target classmates. In grad school, it was colleagues. After graduation, she was setting me up with every “local talent” she could find on weekends. Despite her efforts, I never clicked with anyone. Either they were frogs, or I was the ugly duckling. The few guys who actually met my standards? I was too chicken to make a move. She always complained I had no guts. She loved to tell the story of how my dad was the village heartthrob back in the day. She wasn’t the prettiest or the richest, but she was bold. She basically clubbed him over the head like a cavewoman and dragged him home. If she hadn’t taken the initiative, I wouldn’t exist. She told me to learn from her. If you like him, club him. So when I saw her winking at me with this guy, I thought I got the message. I boldly dragged him upstairs to cook the rice, so to speak. When he flipped me over, I thought, Finally, I’m being bold. An afternoon later, I was lying in bed, gasping for air, unable to move a finger. The boy looked at me, wanting to say something but hesitating. I was too tired to talk, so I closed my eyes and started drifting off. Suddenly, a demonic voice pierced through the door: “Chloe! Where’s Leo?” “Wasn’t he there for English tutoring? Did he leave already?” “Why didn’t you ask him to stay for dinner?” … I bolted upright, kneeling on the bed. Leo? The chubby kid from next door who was three years younger than me? The one I tutored in phonics in elementary school, listening comprehension in middle school, and grammar in high school? The chubby kid my mom said was coming over for GRE tutoring a few days ago? I remember he didn’t look like this. How did losing weight make him this hot? I pointed a trembling finger at the guy. “Leo?” He widened his eyes and nodded obediently. “Here for English tutoring?” He nodded again, looking innocent. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?!” I thought he was a blind date my mom set up! When I first saw him, I was so moved I almost cried. I used to suspect my parents were secretly billionaires pretending to be poor to build my character. Then I suspected I was adopted. But seeing Leo, I thought, Okay, billionaires aren’t even this generous. Only biological parents would save a resource this good for their own daughter! Turns out, he’s just a studious neighbor kid who failed his GREs! Leo looked at me with puppy eyes, his face still flushed, his eyes misty. “You didn’t give me a chance to speak.” I felt a myocardial infarction coming on. Hearing my mom’s footsteps getting closer, I held my breath and locked the door. I turned around to see Leo putting on his clothes. His back was a perfect V-shape, muscles rippling… and covered in long red scratch marks. Leo was terrifyingly calm. He looked at me innocently. “Why are you locking the door? Let’s go out together. Be bold, right?” I slapped the back of his head. “Since when are you so responsible?” I grabbed him, opened the window, and shoved him toward it. “Window! Go!” Leo froze, clearly unhappy. “Sis, what does this mean?” I was sweating bullets. I shoved him again. “What does it mean? It means you got lucky today!” He held the window frame and sighed. “Sis, this is the second floor. Are you trying to kill the witness?” Click! Clack! The door handle jiggled. My heart was in my throat. My mom’s voice boomed again. “Chloe! What are you doing? Why is the door locked?” “Where is Leo?” My brain spun. Hundreds of excuses flashed by. I grabbed one, swallowed hard, and yelled: “He finished tutoring and went home!” I lowered my voice, sounding pitiful and exhausted. “I was on the bus all morning, I’m dead tired. I knew you’d come in and pull the covers off, so I locked it.” “I just want to rest.” Mom instantly felt guilty. “Oh, okay. Rest well. I’ll go make dinner.” Downstairs? That was Leo’s only escape route! I quickly yelled, “Mom! I really want the roast goose from the village entrance! Can you go buy some?” At this moment, I truly admired my own genius. But my mom, being considerate, said, “Your dad is on his way back. I’ll tell him to get it.” I gasped. “Mom, I’m starving! Like, dying! You can take the e-bike and be back in ten minutes. I’ll eat while waiting for Dad!” “Fine, fine! You glutton.” Hearing her go downstairs, I sighed in relief. I shoved Leo’s clothes into his arms and dragged him out. He stood there like a statue, eyes dark, clearly unhappy. “Sis, is that it?” My brain was mush. I just wanted him gone. Without thinking, I blurted, “You ate me? And you want to eat my goose too?” I pushed him down the stairs. He resisted, looking grim. He called me by my full name. “Chloe King, are we just going to pretend this didn’t happen?” What else? I’m broke. I stopped pushing. “I thought you were a blind date. I was a little impulsive. Sorry…” His eyes turned red. He looked like he was about to cry. I panicked. I grabbed two steamed buns from the kitchen and shoved them into his hands. “Don’t cry. You worked hard all afternoon. Eat on the way. Good boy, go home…” Before I could finish, Leo turned and stormed off. Watching his figure disappear down the winding dirt road, my heart finally settled back into my chest. Suddenly exhausted, my legs gave out, and I almost knelt on the floor. But there were… stains on the sheets to deal with. I wanted to cry. I pulled the sheets off and started scrubbing them in a basin. Fun in bed, funeral afterwards. I was replaying the afternoon’s events while regretting my life choices. “What are you doing?!” I screamed and fell on my butt, hitting the floor hard. I stammered, “Period… accident. Got on the sheets.” My mom glanced at me. “Normal thing. Look at you, acting like you committed a crime.” She parked the e-bike, holding the goose, and started rambling. “Leo’s dad has helped our family a lot over the years.” “Teach Leo well. Tomorrow, don’t wait for him to come here. You go to his house to tutor him.” Go to his house? My brain exploded. “He got into a top university for undergrad, how could he fail the GRE…” “You’re as brainless as your father. If his dad hadn’t thrown some projects our way during the pandemic, we would have starved.” “It’s rare they need us for something. We have to repay the favor.” My mom’s tone left no room for argument. “Go tomorrow after lunch.” 3 My mom means what she says. The next day after lunch, she shoved my old GRE prep books into my hands and pushed me out the door. Forget tutoring, I didn’t even have the face to see Leo. I decided to find a sheltered spot outside, play on my phone all afternoon, and go home. But before I could cross two fields, I ran into Leo’s mom, Aunt Liu. Leo’s family was in construction. They got rich and moved to the city, only coming back for holidays. The city water must be good because Aunt Liu looked younger than she did years ago. From across the field, Aunt Liu yelled, “Chloe! Your mom said you were coming to tutor Leo. Come on, it’s freezing out here, let’s go inside and warm up.” She crossed the field, took the books from my hand, and dragged me toward her house. “That boy Leo, studying so poorly and doesn’t even know to come to the teacher. I’ll lecture him later! That’s no way to treat a teacher!” I wanted to die. What kind of luck is this? Aunt Liu dragged me inside and yelled upstairs, “Leo! Chloe is here!” Leo stood at the top of the stairs, one hand in his pocket, looking down at me. His mouth was a straight line, a little petulant. “Sis, come up.” As soon as he spoke, we both froze. The memories of yesterday afternoon hit us like a tidal wave. Our eyes met and instantly darted away. Aunt Liu didn’t notice. Seeing us standing there, she complained, “Stinky brat, why are you just standing there? Get Chloe upstairs to the heater.” I snapped out of it. Afraid Aunt Liu would think I was rude, I forced myself to walk up. Leo came down two steps, took the books from his mom, and followed me up. He led me to the study, pulled out a chair for me, and pulled another one right next to it for himself. An English workbook was spread out on the desk. Next to it was a scratch pad, covered in chaotic scribbles. Under the lines, I could faintly see handwriting. I leaned in. Just as I made out the word “Chloe,” Leo snatched it away. Fine. Don’t look. I don’t care. “Did you come specifically to tutor me?” Leo asked. Specially? I was basically kidnapped by Aunt Liu halfway here. Afraid he’d overthink it, I honestly shook my head. He didn’t speak for a long time. I looked up. Leo’s face and ears were bright red. He looked down shyly, fiddling with his fingers. He peeked at me through his lashes, then quickly looked down again. My heart jumped. I think he misunderstood. His focus was on “not to tutor.” My focus was on “not specifically.” There was no good answer to this. I stayed silent… Awkwardness spread through the room. “Hot soy milk.” Aunt Liu suddenly pushed the door open, put down two drinks with a smile, told us to study hard, and thoughtfully closed the door. The room fell silent again. “Sis…” Leo’s voice sounded like a kitten scratching, startling me. I took a deep breath, slammed the workbook open, and said loudly, “Okay! Let’s start with question one.” Seeing the atmosphere get serious, I secretly relaxed. My eyes drifted… and landed on a red mark on Leo’s collarbone. The heater was on, so he had unbuttoned his top two buttons. I saw everything. The mark was darker in the center, fading out. I estimated it was the shape of two overlapping… actions. Leo silently sat up straight, his long fingers buttoning his collar. I died of embarrassment right there. I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself. From that moment on, the letters on the page started dancing. My senses went into overdrive. The fruity scent of Leo’s cologne drilled into my nose and tickled my heart. He silently picked up his cup and drank. I suddenly felt thirsty too and took a sip. Maybe the heat was too high. We drank three cups in a row. After the third cup, Leo shook the empty pitcher. “Sis, why am I getting thirstier the more I drink?” Pfft! I almost sprayed my milk. I held it in, but a few drops leaked from the corner of my mouth. Leo quickly grabbed a tissue. Before I could take it, he reached over and gently wiped my lips. His eyes darkened, heat rolling in them. A pair of long fingers suddenly gripped my shoulder. Before I could react, the owner of the fingers was leaning in, eyes half-closed. Leo’s lashes trembled, his red lips parted slightly. The buttons on his chest were undone again, revealing a vast expanse of skin. Things were spiraling out of control. Just as we were about to cross the line, the door opened. “I cut some fruit, take a brea—” Thump! Startled, I leaned back too far and tipped over in the chair, crashing to the floor. Leo helped me up, buttoning his shirt with one hand, looking annoyed and embarrassed. “Mom! Why didn’t you knock?! We were studying seriously, you scared us to death!” I didn’t know if Aunt Liu saw anything. My face was burning. I took out my phone, put it back, touched my butt, touched my head, picked up the workbook, put it down. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Finally, I found an excuse: “My pigs are hungry. I have to go feed the pigs.” Without waiting for an answer, I fled the scene. On the way back, the more I thought about it, the more I felt Aunt Liu saw everything. Parents really shouldn’t be oblivious. You can’t just invite any tutor into your home. In freezing weather, I walked home sweating. But Aunt Liu operates on the same wavelength as my mom. She meant what she said. The next day, Leo showed up at my door right on time. 4 Aunt Liu came with him, carrying bags of gifts, warm and enthusiastic. She said it was a “small token of appreciation” for tutoring Leo. I looked. Premium bird’s nest, high-end skincare. This was not small. My parents refused to accept it. Aunt Liu said some heartfelt words, making everyone happy. Chatting, she patted Leo’s arm. “Silly boy, it’s rare for Chloe to be home. Hurry up and let your sister teach you.” Leo took the hint and stood up straight. “Troubling you, Sis.” I heard “create a private study environment” and my scalp tightened. I fidgeted with my fingers. “Actually, bad timing. We’re going to her grandma’s house this afternoon.” I was about to stand up when my mom suddenly spoke. “That’s fine, come tomorrow.” “Chloe might be busy lately. Auntie Wang introduced a few boys for her to meet.” Aunt Liu was shocked. “Chloe needs blind dates? Such a pretty girl, families must be fighting over her. Plus, she’s young, no rush.” She glanced at Leo. “Maybe Chloe already has someone she likes.” My mom waved her hand, looking disgusted. “She’s turning 27 after New Year’s, and she has no guts. If there’s a good one, she needs to meet him early before someone else snatches him up.” “True. Leo isn’t young either. He’s turning 24. I’m worried too…” My mom patted Aunt Liu’s hand. “You don’t have to worry. Leo is so handsome, who knows how many girls like him. You’ll just worry about picking the best one…” My dad and I watched the two women go back and forth. My mom basically said Chloe and Leo aren’t a match, while Aunt Liu almost explicitly said they were perfect. After half an hour, Aunt Liu forced us to exchange WeChats so we could “study” later, and left reluctantly. I was confused. Once Leo left, I grabbed my mom. “We aren’t going to Grandma’s today…” “You!” My mom poked my forehead in frustration. “Don’t get confused by Leo’s face.” “Just chatting for a bit, and his eyes were glued to you.” “The prettier the boy, the more unreliable!” She glared at my dad. “Especially in construction. Too many temptations. Girls chasing them even when they’re 50!” My dad, catching strays, grumbled, “Who are you mocking? I’m innocent! I think Leo is a good kid, honest, no bad intentions!” “Besides, is it our fault we’re handsome?” I sighed, feeling inexplicably annoyed. So my mom doesn’t like Leo.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386025”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After I hired a college guy as my live-in boyfriend, my “one that got away” came back. He saw us together and his eyes went red. “I’m back. Get rid of him.” But the college guy just kneeled at my feet, his face a mask of beautiful despair. “Don’t send me away, Seraphina. I’ll do anything.” 1 It was Leo’s birthday, which also marked three years of him being my perfect stand-in. I’d ordered him a $2,000 custom cake. He was in the middle of singing me a love song, his face flushed. The door to the private room burst open. A man I hadn’t seen in three years stood there, holding a bouquet of impossible, gold-dusted roses. Julian Cole. The new king of indie cinema. My white whale. The music died. Beside me, Leo went rigid. My friends, however, erupted. “Julian! You’re back! Sit here, sit next to Sera!” “You, kid, move! God, don’t be so slow.” Leo lowered his head, his hair hiding his expression. He was probably about to cry. My little college boy had such a fragile heart. He’d cry, and his nose and ears would turn the most delicious shade of pink. I’ve always loved watching him cry. Especially in bed. But right now, my attention was on Julian. Three years had been good to him. His frame was broader, practically radiating male pheromones. His eyes were deeper, his features so sharp he looked less like a man and more like a work of art you weren’t allowed to touch. It made you want to touch him. To shatter that composure. In the few seconds I was silent, Leo’s entire posture deflated. “I… I don’t want to interrupt,” he whispered, his voice thick. “I’ll just go.” He slowly put on his coat. Slowly wrapped his scarf. He was waiting for me to stop him. I just nodded. “Go home and make that soup. I’ll be back late.” He thought his tears were his trump card. I indulge him because he has value. But I am not managed by him. Leo’s face went pale. He walked out. I patted the empty seat. Julian sat, and his deep voice was laced with vinegar. “You didn’t stay lonely, I see.” I handed him a glass of champagne. “You’re the one who bailed on our engagement to ‘find yourself’ in Europe. You left. Did you expect me to join a convent?” He flinched, then downed the champagne. “I was just a trust fund kid. I wanted to be… better. Worthy of you.” I shrugged. “That sounds like a you problem.” Honestly, I’m glad he ran. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be this free. A woman should have her fun. When you’re ready, you find a good-looking man to sign a prenup and settle down. A woman’s experience is her greatest asset. The men you’ve tasted, the places you’ve seen—they’re all part of your story. My friends were already fawning over Julian. “Sera never got over you, Julian. She even found a replacement built on your exact specs!” “She was a mess after you left. Drunk every night, looking for you in every guy.” “But he’s just a boy toy. We only ever approved of you.” I let them talk, watching Julian’s ego visibly inflate. Men are so easy to manage. Hours later, I was curled up in his lap. His voice was rough with whiskey. “I missed you, Sera.” He whispered against my ear, “Don’t go home tonight.” 2 I woke up the next morning, my voice hoarse. It was… a good reunion. Julian may be twenty-eight, but his stamina had only improved. I slipped out of bed. He grabbed my wrist. “Don’t go to the office. Stay. It’s been three years.” I pulled my hand free, fastening my cufflink. “Don’t be ridiculous. I run an empire. My time is money.” He sat up, his eyes intense. “My quotes are only getting higher. I can support you.” I laughed. But I wasn’t mad. It was… cute. The naive, passionate declaration of a man who still thinks he’s the main character. I grabbed my Hermès and my Aston Martin keys. “Call me when you make the Forbes list, darling.” He was speechless. I spent the morning in back-to-back meetings. At noon, my assistant brought in lunch. Duck and bamboo shoot soup, black truffle-infused mushrooms, cod in a crab-roe broth, and a soufflé. Leo was a culinary genius. It was, after his face, his primary value. “Where’s Leo?” I asked. He usually stayed to eat with me. “Mr. Nie dropped off the food and left, ma’am. He… he seemed unwell.” I checked my phone. A dozen missed calls from last night. 7 PM: [The soup is ready. Come home?] 9 PM: [I showered… I’m wearing the… tail… you like.] 11 PM: [If you’re not coming home, I’m going back to my dorm.] 2 AM: [Please come back. I’m begging you. I miss you…] I put the phone down. He cried himself to sleep, and now he’s throwing a tantrum. I’ll deal with it tonight. Just as I predicted, I got home and found him packing a suitcase, his eyes swollen. He ignored me. I grabbed his chin, forcing his head up. “Why are you leaving? Is my money not good enough? Or am I not f*cking you hard enough?” His eyes were red, trying to look cold. “Your real boyfriend is back. The stand-in knows when to exit.” I sighed. “Don’t you feel it? This isn’t just about him anymore.” His lip trembled. “You chose him last night. You… you know I waited all night? The soup boiled dry…” He broke. “All this time… it was all a lie!” I frowned. “I don’t like men who cry. And I didn’t ‘choose’ anyone. “I already sent the wire for your mother’s medical bills and your father’s gambling debts. I doubled it. If you’re still upset, I’ll add another fifty grand to your monthly allowance.” His sobbing stopped. His eyes, wide and wet, just blinked. “Didn’t… choose?” He wiped his face, a little smile breaking through. I opened my arms. He collapsed into them. I stroked his back. He smelled so good. “Honestly, Leo,” I murmured, “I have a soft spot for you. The deadbeat dad, the sick mom… your life is a mess. I know this isn’t easy for you. I can’t stand to see a man cry.” He sniffled, “I’ll go shower.” “Good boy.” Men are simple. Give them a little validation, and they’re yours. While he was showering, I checked my feeds. Julian had posted a new promo shot, his abs defined. The caption: [You Only]. I liked it. Comment: [Needs to be spicier.] He messaged me instantly. [Tonight?] I sent him a picture of my desk. [Working.] I put my phone down and sipped my wine. It’s exhausting managing this many male egos. Good thing I’m a professional. 3 The next day, my top agent told me she’d signed Julian Cole. He’d approached her. He was the hottest thing in Hollywood, and he walked right into my company, Shang Media. I called him. “You don’t have to be so excited,” he said, his voice smiling. “I had to sign somewhere. This way, we can see each other more.” “Excited? Julian, it’s a privilege for you to sign with me. I’m calling to remind you that my talent is expected to behave. Don’t tarnish my brand. “If you work hard, I’ll make you a legend. If you screw up, I’ll bury you. Got it?” He was silent. “Now,” I continued, “I’ve already picked your next projects. An art film with Aronofsky, a blockbuster with Nolan, and a reality dating show.” His voice went up an octave. “A dating show? You’d let me do that?” Men. So emotional. “It’s just an IRL rom-com for the audience, Julian. Don’t actually fall for anyone. Just be the perfect ‘book boyfriend’ and build your female fanbase.” He chuckled, his mood restored. “I knew it. You can’t stand the thought of me with anyone else.” Whatever. If the delusion benefits me, I’ll allow it. I flew out to the private island for the show’s first day. I bought a villa there. And, of course, I brought Leo. “Sister,” he whispered, massaging my shoulders, “you’re so good to me.” “I bought you new swim trunks. Go try them on.” He came back, blushing. “They’re… a little tight. Is there a bigger size?” I sipped my coconut water. “No. They’re perfect.” Good assets should be displayed. He knelt by my lounge chair, his amber eyes looking up at me. “Did you… did you ever buy swim trunks for him?” Tsk. So competitive. “No.” Three years ago, Julian was an ice king. I was the one chasing him. He’d rejected me, even fled the country. Now that I don’t care, he’s back, claiming it was “insecurity.” I don’t care what it was. I only believe in power. When you’re strong enough, the world kisses your feet. Leo smiled, a slow, soft kiss on my knee. He kissed his way down my calf, to my ankle. The air got thick. He was a quick study. He was young, energetic, and creative. He’d get me half-delirious, then whisper: “Like this? Or this?” “Again? Are you sure you’re done?” “Sister… say you love me. Say it, or I don’t stop.” My phone rang. He covered my eyes with one hand, declining the call with the other. It rang again. He saw the caller ID. He swiped to answer. Julian. “My agent said you bought a villa. Send me the address. I’m coming over after we wrap.” I was on my stomach. I tried to keep my voice steady. “I’m busy… I’ll text y—” A sudden, hard thrust from behind made my voice crack and break. The line went silent for two seconds. Julian’s voice was ice. “There’s someone there? Tell him to get out. Now.” Leo just smirked, his eyes feral. “Sister,” he whispered, “don’t tell him. I don’t want a stranger in our house.” Julian was roaring. “Leo, is it? You’re going to regret this.” Leo hung up. I wrapped my arms around his neck. Tonight, no one was sleeping. 4 I woke up at 2 PM. My phone was blown up. My agent: [Julian walked off set.] I had no appetite. I floored the Aston Martin to the production site. Julian got in, his face a thundercloud. He was waiting for an apology. I gave him one. “Are you an idiot? A-lister ego, D-list talent. You’re my employee. You’re embarrassing my brand. You want to quit? Fine. Pay the fifty-million-dollar breach-of-contract fee, kiss the director’s ass, and get the hell out of my sight.” He was stunned. “Aren’t you going to explain last night?” “Explain what? To you? Who are you?” His eyes were burning. “Fine, Seraphina. You don’t care about me at all.” I lit a slim cigarette. “I care about my assets. You’re an adult, Julian. Stop being so childish.” He snapped. He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me, hard. It was all anger and frustration and the smell of expensive cologne. I just let him. The one who loses their cool is the one who loses. He finally pulled back, breathing hard, his eyes red. “He’s just more obedient, isn’t he?” I took a drag. “At least his value is clear. I’ll see you on set.” He went back. The show was fine. My agent told me Julian was a robot when I was gone, but the second I was on set, he turned into the world’s most devoted lover for the cameras. Leo, hearing I was “suffering” with set catering, started bringing me gourmet meals. He’d feed me a pomegranate seed. On camera, Julian would feed his co-star a bite of pear. Leo would drape his coat over my shoulders. Julian would get on his knees and tie his co-star’s shoe. “Sister,” Leo whispered, “he’s so… performative. I could never be that familiar with another woman.” He smelled so good. I smiled. Julian saw it. His co-star’s heel broke. He swept her up into his arms and carried her, his eyes boring into me as he passed the monitors. I just turned to the director. “That was great footage. Make sure you get that in the final cut.” That night, he dragged me into a janitor’s closet, pressing me against the wall. “Why aren’t you jealous? Hm?” I put my hand on his throat. “Monogamy is a man’s best quality, Julian. If you’re not… exclusive… you’re worthless. Why would I fight over something worthless? “Don’t try to use other women to raise your own stock price. I’ll fight for a diamond. Not a piece of meat.” He looked… wrecked. “You… you’re comparing me to meat?” I just smiled and walked away. I went home to my good boy, who had dinner, a fruit platter, and a hot bath waiting. A woman works this hard… for this.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386042”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Caleb and I were at City Hall, one photo away from being legally married when his phone rang. He took the call and left. Just like that. Left me standing alone at the marriage license counter, trapped between moving forward and turning back. I called him. No answer. I texted him. No reply. Finally, I had to find the number for his childhood friend, Leah, and dial it. Caleb picked up. “Karen, can you stop being so damn annoying? Leah sprained her ankle. I’m taking care of her today. Stop calling and waking her up. We’ll just have to reschedule the wedding.” I bit my lip, my voice a low murmur. “Including this time, we’ve rescheduled seven times.” “So what? City Hall isn’t going anywhere. It’s not like it’s going to disappear!” My face was a mask of calm, but inside, a familiar blade twisted in my gut. The clerk looked at me with pity. “Ma’am, are you still proceeding?” I nodded slowly. “Yes. I am.” 1 I called my best friend Zoe’s older brother and accepted his offer. After hanging up, I asked the clerk to hold my spot for a little while. Before the numbness could fully set in, Ryder arrived. He pulled up on a sleek, powerful motorcycle. The moment he strode in, helmet under his arm, all eyes in the office snapped to him. He walked right up to me and dropped into the chair beside mine, crossing his long legs. A teasing smile played on his lips. “So, you finally came to your senses? Ready to fake-marry me to get your family off your back?” I gave a small, tight nod. But it wasn’t just about appeasing my family. The most important thing was giving my grandfather peace of mind before he was gone. Six months ago, his health had taken a sharp decline. He was in the hospital day in and day out, and every time I visited, he’d ask when I was getting married. He wanted to see me in a wedding dress. He wanted to see me walk down the aisle. He said that way, even after he was gone, he’d know someone was there to love and protect me. That’s why I’d been pushing Caleb to get married for the past six months. We had come to City Hall seven times, and every single time, something had come up, and we had left without a license. Last time, it was because Leah was on her period, and the cramps were so bad he had to rush home to make her some tea and bring her a heating pad. The time before that, Leah had lost her keys and was locked out, so he had to go let her in. And the time before that, Leah was hungry and craving pho from that one specific place on the other side of the city, and he had to go stand in line for her. Seven times. Every single time, it was because of Leah. Every single time, Caleb dropped everything, dropped me, without a second thought. The irony was crushing. I had given him seven chances. And he wouldn’t even spare me the few minutes it would take to snap a photo. Honestly, when Caleb left this time, I wasn’t even that sad. Maybe I was used to it. Maybe I had expected it. But my grandfather’s words from a few weeks ago echoed in my mind. “My sweet Karen, I’m afraid I don’t have much time left. I might not get to see you in your wedding dress. But promise me, even if you’re alone, you’ll live bravely. Don’t let anyone bully you.” I promised him I would be brave. And this time, I wouldn’t back down. Caleb, I gave you your chances. Seven of them. The paperwork with Ryder went smoothly. But just as we were about to have our photo taken, my phone buzzed. A text from Caleb. [Hey, Karen, don’t be mad. I really couldn’t get away this time, but I’ve made your favorite dinner to make it up to you. Come home soon~] Ryder glanced at my screen, his voice laced with lazy amusement. “You still want to go through with this?” I took a deep breath, my expression unreadable. “Yes.” We finished the process and walked out of City Hall, marriage certificate in hand. “Are you busy tomorrow?” I asked Ryder before he left. “There’s something I need you to do with me.” He swung a leg over his bike. “Call me if you need anything. Who knows, in a couple of days, I might need you to play your part for my parents.” And with a roar of the engine, he was gone. Life felt so surreal. Seven years together—four in college, three after—and my relationship with Caleb had crumbled at the finish line. And now I was married to my best friend’s brother, a man I’d only met once before. On the way home, Caleb sent another message, this time with a picture. The dining table was covered with an elaborate spread of food. [Why aren’t you home yet? Dinner’s ready! If you’re late, it’ll all be gone!] He was a man of his word. By the time I walked through the door, the table was a wasteland of empty plates and picked-over dishes. Leah sat there, putting on her best innocent act. “Oh, Karen, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “I was just starving, so I couldn’t wait and started without you.” Even I wasn’t dense enough to miss the challenge in her eyes. A hot rush of anger surged through me. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Leah and Caleb had grown up together. In his eyes, she would always be the priority. It hadn’t always been like this. In the beginning, Caleb and I had a smooth, easy love. We rarely fought, and when we did, he was always the first to apologize, to coax me out of my anger, taking all the blame whether it was his fault or not. Even Zoe used to tell me how lucky I was to have found a man who doted on me so completely. That all ended six months ago. The day Leah came back into his life, his devotion shifted. “Karen, why are you just getting home now? Didn’t I text you a while ago?” Caleb emerged from the kitchen, his brow furrowed in disapproval. He was used to me dropping everything and rushing back the second he messaged. “I got held up,” I said evenly. “What could possibly be more important than dinner?” His tone was flat, but the accusation was clear. I had no intention of telling him about the marriage. If I was leaving, then from this moment on, Caleb was a stranger to me. This trip was just to get my things. “Nothing. Work is sending me on a business trip. I came back to pack.” Without waiting for his reaction, I walked straight to the bedroom. But when I opened the door, I froze. The bed, which I had made perfectly that morning, was a rumpled mess. The closet doors were open, clothes spilling out. I could have ignored all of that. But on the nightstand, the delicate, handcrafted model skyscraper my grandfather had built for me lay in pieces, snapped in half. Tiny fragments littered the floor like fallen stars. Something inside me snapped. “Caleb!” I screamed his name. “Who was in this room? Who broke my things?” He walked in, his expression shifting from a brief frown to one of complete indifference. “It’s just a model,” he said dismissively. “I’ll find someone to glue it back together for you.” I stared at him, stunned. His casual tone felt like a physical blow, telling me in no uncertain terms that I, and the things I cherished, meant nothing to him. And with that sentence, I knew. It had to be Leah. Only she could inspire this level of blind, thoughtless protection from him. “Leah broke it, didn’t she?” I stated it as a fact, my voice devoid of emotion. But my quiet words were a lit match to his short fuse. His face contorted with anger. “Do you have any proof it was Leah?” he snarled. “Maybe it was just unstable and fell on its own! Stop making baseless accusations, Karen. Before you blame her, you’d better have evidence, or I swear I’ll sue you for slander!” I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. He was really going to defend her to the end. I’d said one sentence, and now I was a slanderer. The Caleb from six months ago would never have been like this. I fell in love with him on a rainy night. I’d been in a car accident, and he’d run all the way to me, not even stopping for an umbrella. This man, usually so composed and proper, had completely lost his cool, screaming at the other driver and getting into a fistfight for my sake. What had happened to that man? I didn’t argue further. Just as he’d said, I had no proof. I knelt carefully, picking up the scattered shards, gathering the two broken halves of the tower. Just then, Leah’s pitiful voice drifted from the doorway. She limped into the room. “Caleb, please don’t fight with Karen!” she cried. “Even if I didn’t do it, if she wants to blame me, she can. No one’s ever liked me anyway. It’s normal for her not to like me either.” With that, she deliberately hobbled over and knelt beside me. She planted her foot firmly on one of the larger fragments and twisted her shoe, grinding it into the floor. Then, in a voice so low only I could hear, she whispered, “I did it. So what?” Rage, pure and hot, shot through me. I moved to push her away. But before I even touched her, she threw herself backward, collapsing onto the floor. Her bandaged ankle collided perfectly with the corner of the nightstand. A split second later, she was wailing. “Karen, I was just trying to help!” Before I could process what had happened, Caleb grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back. I had never seen him like this. His face was a mask of fury, his eyes blazing with a hatred so intense it felt like he wanted to kill me. “Even if you don’t like her, you don’t have to hurt her like this! She’s injured, for God’s sake!” My hair was pulled so tight I was forced to look up at them, a bitter taste flooding my mouth, my heart feeling like it was being ripped to shreds. “I didn’t even touch her!” A sharp crack echoed in the room as his palm connected with my cheek. A fiery red handprint bloomed instantly on my skin. “You’re still lying? Karen, do you think I’m blind? I was standing right here! I saw the whole thing!” he roared. “First, you falsely accuse her, and now you push her down. I never knew you were such a cruel-hearted, venomous woman!” The air left my lungs. I couldn’t form a single word of defense. In his current state, he wouldn’t believe anything I said anyway. He let go of my hair, looking down at me with cold disgust. “No excuse, right? You’re a toxic bitch, Karen.” He looked at me with such profound disappointment. And in that moment, I felt a strange sense of release. If I’d been holding onto one last sliver of hope, it was gone now. There was only quiet acceptance. No more defending myself. No more struggling to explain. As Caleb scooped Leah into his arms, she shot me a triumphant look over his shoulder, mouthing a single, silent sentence. I understood it perfectly. “You think you can compete with me for him?” If you want him that badly, he’s all yours. Caleb, frantic with worry about Leah’s “re-injured” ankle, rushed her to the hospital. I slowly, unsteadily, got to my feet. The full-length mirror showed my reflection: one side of my face a blazing, angry red. The handprint was starkly visible. I could only imagine the force he had used. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I reached up and wiped away the trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth. This single slap had shattered every last illusion I’d held onto. I took the opportunity to pack. I gathered every piece of clothing, every personal item, and stuffed it all into suitcases. Anything I could take, I took. Anything I couldn’t, I threw in the trash. Before I left, I found a real estate agent and listed the apartment online. It was my apartment. A gift from my grandfather, bought with his retirement savings. It was supposed to be our marital home. Now, there was no reason to keep it. Anything dirty, I threw out. It disgusted me now.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386058”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I’m the most notorious actress in Hollywood. My agency booked me on a new wilderness survival show with one condition: I had to be the villain and make their new “America’s Sweetheart” look good. The problem? The day we arrived, we lost contact with the entire crew. The reality show became a real survival situation. So, I built a shelter, trapped wild game, and started a fire. I was thriving. Meanwhile, the “perfect” idols were having screaming matches, fighting over supplies, and having complete meltdowns. What none of us knew? The hidden cameras were still rolling. And the whole thing was streaming live, 24/7. 1. “Two hundred thousand. That’s my final offer.” “Three hundred thousand,” I countered. “Not a penny less.” My agent, Mark, looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. “Bella! Are you delusional? Your reputation is toxic. The studio is doing you a favor by booking you. You should be grateful!” And whose fault was my reputation? When I refused to have “drinks” with an investor, the studio leaked stories that I was a diva. When I had an eye infection, they said I was rolling my eyes at a veteran actor. When a co-star from my own agency groped me and I pushed him off, I was the one blacklisted for “bullying a rookie.” I took a calm sip of water. “Two hundred grand to participate, I can accept. But to go on national TV, act like a brat, and make your new star, Evie, look like an angel? That’s an extra hundred thousand.” My contract was up in two months. He knew it. He huffed, but he agreed. After signing the contract for Wilderness: Ten Days and Nights, I walked out humming. It was perfect. As soon as my contract expired, I was done. Quitting the industry. My first stop: the Amazon. I already had the spot picked out. God, I couldn’t wait. Before I was “Bella,” I was “Sky,” an anonymous survival blogger with over a million followers on my streaming channel. Twice a year, I’d do a live broadcast from the middle of nowhere. Then I got scouted in a mall and spent two years in this hellhole. I was rusty. I was itching for a challenge. This show was just a paid vacation. My friend texted me: Look at Twitter. I didn’t have to. I knew the cycle. The studio’s PR machine was already spinning. #BellaTheBitch joins #Evie on new reality show. The comments were… predictable. Half for Evie: “OMG my girl is going on a show with LIAM! Squeee!” “Ugh, but a survival show? My poor baby, she’s too delicate!” “Evie, we love you!” And half for me: “How does she still have a career? Who is she sleeping with?” “I swear, if I have to see her face, I’m gonna be sick. Can’t they replace her?” “Bella on a survival show? She’ll probably try to poison the others.” “Stay away from Evie, you psycho!” I glanced at the comments, completely unfazed, and closed my eyes for a nap. 2. The day of filming arrived. We were flown by helicopter to a remote, uninhabited island. The crew searched our bags, confiscated all our food, and gave us each one bottle of water. Evie had to surrender a hidden bag of potato chips. She pouted at the camera, giving them a tiny wave. “Goodbye, little chips. I’ll miss you.” I suppressed an eye-roll. The live chat would eat that up. She’s so adorable. Evie knew how to play the game. There were five of us. Me, Evie, and three men: the triple-Oscar-winning actor Liam, and two former boy-band members, Jay and Finn. Just my luck. Jay was the rookie who’d groped me, now a red-hot solo artist at a rival agency. He saw me and immediately walked over, hand outstretched, a slimy smile on his face. I just turned my back and walked away. I knew I’d get slammed for it. But I was 60 days from freedom. I didn’t care. Our first task was to hike, alone, to a “pre-set base camp.” Our luggage would be waiting. Before we left, I palmed a Swiss Army knife from the prop table. As I did, I saw Liam watch me. He didn’t say anything. He just picked up a lighter. 3. We hiked for an hour. When we reached the coordinates, there was… nothing. Just a dense, mosquito-infested jungle. No camp. No crew. No luggage. “What’s going on? Where is everyone?” Evie asked. “Did we take a wrong turn?” Jay said. Liam, calm as ever, just said, “Call them.” There was no camera crew with us on the hike. But when we pulled out our phones… no signal. Evie’s sweet-girl mask cracked. “Fuck! What is this?!” Jay and Finn just stared. This was not the “America’s Sweetheart” they knew. Jay, apparently just as fake, pulled a pack of cigarettes from inside his sock. Evie immediately held out her hand. “Give me one.” She put it to her lips, then realized. “Shit. Anyone got a light?” “Fuck!” Jay kicked a tree. “What is this place? Where the hell are they?” I glanced at Liam. He was calmly watching the chaos, his lighter presumably safe in his pocket. A smart one. Finn just looked at the sky. “It’s getting dark.” Jay kept kicking the tree. None of them saw the tiny red light blinking from a fake rock in the bushes. The live feed was currently filled with Jay’s furious face. Wilderness: Ten Days and Nights had been the #1 live event since it launched two hours ago. It now had ten million concurrent viewers. This was the real show: use hidden cameras to see what “perfect” celebrities do when they think no one is watching. The entire production was top secret. Not even the agencies knew. The live chat was losing its mind. “Whoa… Evie’s been smoking for years. Look at how she holds it.” “She’s an adult? She can smoke?” “Yeah, but Jay’s language… my ‘pure’ boy… 😭” “Dude, if you were dumped on an island, you’d be cussing too.” “Right? It’s just… real. I love it!” “Jay smoking is kinda hot…” “Wait, why is Bella so calm? She’s just… looking around.” “What’s she doing?” 4. I’d found a large, fallen log. I was using my knife to chisel at a rotten spot. “What are you doing?” Evie asked, her voice dripping with disdain. “Finding a place to sleep.” Jay sauntered over. “Need some ‘manpower’ for that, sweetheart?” “Get lost,” I said. He sneered. “Still pissed about last year? I barely touched you. Besides, I’ve had way hotter women than you…” His words were cut off by a loud CRACK as I split a section of the log. I flipped the knife in my hand, catching it by the handle. The blade was pointing right at him. Jay swallowed. He backed off. 5. The live chat exploded. “Wait… what did he just say?” “Remember that ‘Bella bullies rookie’ scandal? That was… this?” “Jay’s fans… you good? Your boy just admitted to sexual assault.” “He’s canceled. Oh my god, he’s canceled.” “This is disgusting.” “They’re probably faking it for the show! The audio is bad!” “Denial is a river in Egypt, sweetie.” “If I were Bella, I’d have stabbed him by now.” “She’s been taking shit for his crime for a year.” “HOLD UP. Did anyone else see Bella just… carve a shelter out of a tree trunk? In like, five minutes?” “That… that looks just like ‘Sky.’ The survival streamer.” “Where’s Liam?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386074”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 To placate my adopted brother, my sister sabotaged the Pairing Ceremony. In front of everyone, I drew the worst possible lot: marriage to a crippled, disfigured war veteran. A shocked murmur rippled through the hall, quickly followed by jeers and catcalls. I stood frozen, my eyes burning. Beside me, my sister, Karina, spoke in a low, placating tone. “Don’t blame me, Larry. You’re the one who pushed Jude into the pool in front of everyone last time. This was just to make him feel better.” “He’s just a kid, he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. You need to stop being so hard on him.” “Don’t worry,” she added, “it’s just for show. You’re a Vance. We’d never actually let you marry some broken-down old soldier.” … Her words hit me like a physical blow. The blood in my veins turned to ice. Below the balcony, the guests’ whispers became a steady hum. Karina cleared her throat, raising her voice. “My brother’s hand slipped! The result is void. We’ll draw again.” As she spoke, she shot a subtle glance toward Sienna Sterling. Sienna. My childhood friend. The one person I had hoped to draw today. I instinctively looked at her. She was leaning against a marble pillar, her dark green dress uniform accentuating her sharp, elegant features. The brim of her cap cast a shadow over eyes that were, even from this distance, impossibly beautiful. Sensing my gaze, a flicker of cold indifference crossed her face. She straightened up, her voice ringing out, clear and firm. “The Pairing Ceremony is built on tradition and fairness. There’s no such thing as a redraw.” “Surely the son of General Vance isn’t going to break his word in front of the entire assembly, is he?” My heart plummeted. My knuckles, clenched in the fabric of my suit, turned white. A chorus of agreement rose from the crowd. “Major General Sterling is right! You can’t just change the outcome.” “General Vance is a man of his word. Is his son going to be the exception?” Seeing the situation spiral out of control, Karina’s face turned ashen. She pointed an accusatory finger at Sienna. “You… you grew up with Larry! You spent your whole childhood at the Fort telling everyone you’d marry him and no one else!” “How can you say something like this now?” Someone in the crowd let out a derisive laugh. “Isn’t it obvious? The Major General has her eyes on someone else.” “I saw her at the mall with the younger Vance boy yesterday. They were buying out half the designer stores. Looked like she couldn’t get enough.” “I heard her family had to drag her here today. The last thing she wanted was to have her name drawn.” So that was it. I slowly lowered my gaze, blinking back the moisture that stung my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I walked forward. I took the microphone, my voice quiet but carrying to every corner of the vast hall. “Who said the result is void?” “If my name was drawn, then it was fate. I accept this marriage.” Karina whirled around, her voice sharp with panic. “Larry, are you insane?” “You’re a General’s son! You can’t actually marry that… that cripple!” I turned to look at her, my eyes bloodshot. There was a time when she was the one who would stand in front of me, shielding me from the world. But now, because of Jude’s throwaway lie—”he pushed me into the pool”—she had just single-handedly turned the most important day of my life into a public crucifixion. A cold, faint smile touched my lips. “Karina, isn’t this exactly what you wanted?” “I’m going to marry a broken woman. Your precious Jude should be satisfied now, right?” Karina froze, her brow furrowed. “You’re still blaming him? You were the one in the wrong. What he did today was just…” I didn’t hear the rest of her excuses. I turned and started down the grand staircase. The guests parted like the sea, creating a path for me. Their gazes, a mixture of pity and morbid curiosity, felt like a thousand tiny needles against my skin. As I passed Sienna, she called out my name. Her voice was laced with a self-righteous sort of pity. “Larry, you don’t have to marry someone like that just to spite me.” She took a step closer, her tone softening as if she were genuinely concerned. “We grew up together. I’ve always thought of you as my own brother… I promise I’ll help you find a suitable match from a good family.” I turned back, a mocking curve to my lips. “A brother?” Sienna was speechless, a flash of guilt in her eyes. My gaze was a razor, cutting right through her composure. “Sienna, if you had just been honest and admitted you’d changed your mind, I might have actually respected you for it.” Her face went pale. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Finally, she just looked away. I didn’t pause again. I walked straight past her, the hem of my suit jacket brushing against her polished military boots, and headed toward the figure in the wheelchair in the corner of the ballroom. The whispers in the room died instantly. From the second-floor balcony, Karina leaned so far over the railing she nearly fell. “Larry, get a grip! Stop acting like a child!” Sienna remained where she was, her jaw clenched, her expression a mask of cold fury. In that moment, every eye was on me. I bent down slightly, meeting the gaze of the woman whose face was half-hidden by a silver-grey mask. Her fingers, resting on the armrest, were covered in scars. A thin cashmere blanket was draped over her legs. “Will you… marry me?” The woman’s body trembled slightly. Her visible eye, which had been downcast, suddenly flashed with a sharp, piercing light. She spoke, her voice surprisingly clear and crisp. “You won’t regret this?” “No regrets.” “Alright. I’ll marry you.” Karina bolted down the stairs, only to be stopped on the last few steps by Sienna’s outstretched arm. “If you go over there now, you’ll be giving him exactly what he wants.” “What are you talking about?” Sienna let out a cold laugh, her eyes still fixed on my back. “He’s just throwing a tantrum. He would never actually marry a cripple…” I heard their muffled argument behind me but didn’t turn around. I simply extended my hand to the woman in the wheelchair. Her palm was rough and warm as her hand closed firmly around my wrist. Karina, Sienna, and I had been inseparable growing up on the military base. That all changed three years ago. I was visiting Sienna near a border deployment when I went missing, losing all contact with them. The event devastated my parents. The laughter in our home vanished. Until Jude appeared. He was the son of a distant cousin on my mother’s side, and he bore a startling resemblance to me. After his parents died in a car crash, my parents adopted him immediately. Jude was cheerful and charming, and within days he had won over the entire household. His presence slowly breathed life back into our cold, quiet home. Over time, it seemed everyone began to forget I ever existed. Six months ago, I finally escaped a war zone in Southeast Asia, making my way back home after a journey that nearly killed me. I expected a warm, tearful reunion. Instead, I was met with a carefully maintained distance, all for fear of upsetting Jude. The night I came home, I overheard my mother comforting him. “Jude, you will always be our most beloved son. Nothing and no one will ever change that.” “Besides,” she’d added, her voice softening, “your brother spent years in that horrible place. He’s not the same person. He’s coarse now, rough around the edges… not thoughtful and kind like you.” I stood outside the door, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. I was still clutching the St. Christopher medal my mother had given me for protection before I disappeared. … The news that the General’s son was marrying a disabled veteran spread like wildfire through our circle. When I got home, my parents and sister were sitting in the living room. “It’s madness!” my father boomed, slamming his hand on the coffee table. “He’s disgraced the Vance name!” My mother, organizing a jewelry box, didn’t even look up. “Don’t yell at him when he gets here. You’ll just make things worse. He’s only saying he’ll marry that woman to get back at Karina for embarrassing him. He doesn’t even know her name or where she lives. Do you really think he’ll go through with it?” Jude, sitting beside her, squeezed out a few crocodile tears. “Mom, it’s all my fault… If Karina hadn’t stood up for me, Larry wouldn’t be doing this.” My mother pulled out a tissue and dabbed his cheeks. “Silly boy. We’ve all had to walk on eggshells around your brother since he came back. You’ve put up with so much.” My father’s voice softened. “Don’t blame yourself, Jude. Your brother is just throwing a tantrum. He’s not going to ruin his life over it.” My mother picked up a designer watch and fastened it around Jude’s wrist. “Here, pick out what you like. Before your brother comes back and tries to start a fight over it…” She trailed off, her eyes catching sight of me standing silently in the entryway. The watch slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. Every face in the room froze. The old me would have screamed. I would have demanded to know why they treated me like a thief when I had never once fought with Jude over anything. I would have asked my father and sister why they only had eyes for him. But I was just… tired. Or perhaps, in the moment I decided to leave, I had already given up on this family. Under their tense stares, I simply turned and went upstairs. Three days later, I met the woman at a quiet cafe in the South End. Rain tapped against the windowpane. I stirred my latte, lost in thought, until the soft whir of a wheelchair stopped at my table. I looked up and froze. In the dim light of the ballroom, I hadn’t seen her clearly. The half of her face not covered by the mask was strikingly handsome, with sharp, well-defined features and superior bone structure. “Mr. Vance. You don’t recognize me?” Her voice held a hint of amusement, like a clear mountain spring. Today, she wore a crisp white dress. The silver-grey mask glinted under the daylight, and her visible eye was a piercing, rare shade of amber. Her gaze was locked on me, direct and unflinching. I cleared my throat, forcing myself to sound composed. “What’s your name?” “Vera,” she said, effortlessly maneuvering her chair to the opposite side of the table. She picked up the water pitcher with a long, slender hand and poured herself a glass. The simple movement radiated an undeniable grace and authority. Suppressing a strange feeling in my gut, I took a credit card from my wallet and pushed it across the table. “In two weeks, come to the Vance estate. This should be enough to cover any necessary expenses.” Vera’s eyes flicked to the card but she didn’t take it. Instead, she looked directly at me, her gaze assessing. “Are you certain you want to marry a… cripple like me?” My fingers tightened. I lifted my chin. “What, are you afraid the Vance family will throw its weight around?” She let out a low laugh at that. With a gentle but firm motion, she pushed the card back toward me. “What’s this?” I frowned. “I haven’t married you yet. I have no reason to spend your money.” When she looked up, her eyes were sharp, her tone absolute. “Wait for me. In two weeks, I will come for you in style.” I was stunned. Thinking of the coldness and calculation I faced at home, my eyes welled up against my will. I took a deep breath, but my voice was steady. “If you can… please be quick.” Vera noticed the redness in my eyes. She paused, her throat moving slightly. When she spoke again, her voice carried a new, solemn weight. “I will.” Dinner had already started when I got home. Sienna was there, sitting next to Jude. The moment I walked in, the conversation stopped. The smiles on their faces froze. The lively dining room fell into an awkward silence. Karina was the first to recover. “Larry, come and eat.” “I’m not hungry. I’m going upstairs.” I turned to leave. “Larry,” my mother called out, standing up. “We need to discuss something with you.” I stopped. “What is it?” She walked over, hesitating for a moment. “Your father and I have decided it’s time to formally announce Jude and Sienna’s engagement.” I looked over at Sienna. She quickly averted her gaze. A bitter smile touched my lips. My mother took my hand. “I know you and Sienna grew up together, but love has to be mutual. It’s not about who was there first… I promise I’ll make it up to you…” I gently pulled my hand away. “I have no objection.” “I wish my brother and future sister-in-law a long and happy life together.” I didn’t expect Sienna to follow me out. She grabbed my wrist, her grip so strong I couldn’t break free. “Sienna, what are you doing?” I said coldly, frowning. She looked down, her voice softening. “I know you’re just saying those things to hurt me.” “You must be… in a lot of pain right now, aren’t you?” Pain? Not really. Not anymore. Maybe just a sense of weary disappointment. I once thought Jude might steal everyone away from me, but never Sienna. When I first came back, he was constantly framing me, painting himself as the victim. No one believed me when I tried to explain. Except for Sienna. She would take my hand, her gaze firm. “Larry, I believe you.” “I will always be on your side.” She had kept her distance from Jude, repelled by his attempts to imitate me and take my place. I thought she, the girl who had sworn to marry only me, who had never stopped searching for me during the three years I was gone, would be my last bastion of support. But in the end, she joined the others in turning against me. “Larry,” she had screamed at me once, “no wonder your own parents love an adopted son more than you! Who could possibly love you when you’re so full of thorns?” “I say one word to Jude and you interrogate me endlessly, as if I’ve betrayed you! You’re paranoid and completely irrational!” “Fine! I’ll tell you! Jude is kinder than you, more thoughtful than you, and more deserving of love than you! I’ve fallen for him, alright? Are you happy now?” Back then, I was drowning, and she was my only lifeline. Even after she said those cruel words, my first instinct wasn’t anger, but a sickening doubt that maybe I was the one who was wrong. It wasn’t until much later that I understood. Sienna had only ever said she disliked Jude. She never actually rejected his advances, his constant crossing of boundaries. Her words and actions never matched. It was her wavering, her hypocrisy, that pushed me to the brink. It was never me. It was always her. Seeing my prolonged silence now, Sienna assumed she’d guessed my thoughts correctly. Her tone became softer, almost patronizing. “Larry, we grew up together. We were in love once. I don’t want us to end up as strangers.” “How about this? I can talk to your parents. After Jude and I are married, you can come live with us. Don’t worry, I’ll treat you both equally. I won’t play favorites.” I looked up at her in disbelief, certain I had misheard. How could she be so shameless? She misinterpreted my shock as delight and smugly adjusted the cuff of her uniform. “But first, you have to promise me. After we’re married, you can’t keep picking fights with Jude over every little thing…” I couldn’t listen anymore. I shoved her away, the fury I’d suppressed for so long finally erupting. “Get the hell away from me!” Half a month later was Jude’s birthday. It was also the day Vera had promised to come for me. The gossip in our circle had mostly died down, thanks to my father’s efforts to suppress it. After all, no one really believed the son of General Vance would actually leave his family for a disabled veteran. Even my parents and sister thought my deKarination was nothing more than a childish tantrum. They didn’t know that my heart had already turned to ash. My resolve to leave had never wavered. Early that morning, as I was about to open my door, I heard hushed voices in the courtyard. It was Karina. “Be quiet. If he wakes up and finds out we’re taking Jude to Miami for his birthday, he’ll throw a fit and none of us will get to go.” My mother’s voice was hesitant. “Are we really just leaving Larry here alone? I have a bad feeling about this…” “Don’t be ridiculous,” my father grumbled, zipping a suitcase. “I worked hard to get this leave approved. The house has guards and maids. It’s not like he’ll be neglected.” Jude put on a show of concern. “Maybe… maybe we should ask him to come with us?” Karina scoffed. “And ruin your birthday? I don’t think so.” My mother sighed. “Well, we’ll make it up to him when we get back.” Soon, the courtyard fell silent. I opened the door and looked up at the clear, cloudless sky. A perfect day. I turned back inside and put on the suit I had prepared.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385627”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After I Forced Myself on My Stepbrother with Amnesia For three years, I savored the taste and slept with him again and again. To keep him from ever remembering, I secretly spiked his water every night. Until the day my hand slipped and I dumped in half a packet. Suddenly, text started scrolling in front of my eyes: 【WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU BIG DUMMY! ISN’T FIVE ROUNDS A NIGHT ENOUGH FOR YOU?!】 【THE LAST TWO NIGHTS NEARLY SENT YOUR BROTHER TO THE AFTERLIFE!】 【I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE HOW UTTERLY WRECKED THIS GREEDY GIRL GETS TONIGHT LMAO!】 I stared at the powder in my hand, my mind reeling. Didn’t I buy Serenity Dust? The stuff that’s supposed to turn a man into a puppy? 1 The floating text left my head spinning. Just then, my stepbrother, Ethan, appeared. He picked up the glass of water beside me and drained it in one gulp. Before I could stop him, all that was left was an empty glass. He frowned, his voice a little raspy. “Tonight’s honey water…” Oh, god. Why is the powder clumping like that? My heart leaped into my throat. Three years ago, Ethan hit his head in an accident. My parents and I concocted a story about a world-renowned brain specialist we knew overseas. The night we got him there, I made my move. I forced myself on him. I told him we’d been secretly carrying on a twisted, forbidden affair right under our parents’ noses. I told him he was so madly in love with me that when our parents forbid it, he’d tried to end his own life, but only ended up damaging his memory. I sold the story with a straight face, weaving a tale so detailed and plausible that he, in his daze, eventually believed me and gave in. That first night. It was exquisite. An acquired taste I couldn’t get enough of. I got so greedy that I kept him in that state, in my bed, for three whole years. It was precisely because it was so damn good that I lived in constant fear of his memory returning. What if he remembered and I could never have him like this again? So, I hit up my best friend—a girl who can get her hands on anything—and bought something special. Serenity Dust, it was called. Supposedly, it could turn a man into a harmless puppy, a puppy into a puddle. Of course, it was guaranteed to be harmless to his health. It would just… gently lower his IQ. And if he was just a little bit dumber, he wouldn’t be able to remember the past, right? Since Ethan always had trouble sleeping, I made a habit of mixing the powder into his calming honey water every night. But now this floating text was telling me the stuff I’d been secretly feeding him for six months was… that? My heart clenched. I quickly asked, “What’s wrong with the honey water tonight? Does it taste bad?” Ethan slowly shook his head, licking a stray grain of powder from the corner of his lip. “It just seems… exceptionally sweet. Maya, did you put too much honey in it?” I… The ghostly text scrolled by again. 【’HONEY’? DUDE, JUST LOOK AT WHAT’S IN HER HAND! SINCE WHEN IS YOUR HONEY A POWDER?!】 【OMG I CAN’T. BRO, WIPE THE POWDER OFF YOUR MOUTH BEFORE YOU TALK.】 【THIS GUY IS NEXT LEVEL. WILLFULLY BLIND.】 【THEY DESERVE EACH OTHER. ONE BRAIN CELL BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM AND IT’S ONLY THINKING ABOUT SEX. I’M OUT.】 【I’M NOT LEAVING. WORD IS HE GETS HIS MEMORY BACK TONIGHT MID-SESSION. IT’S GONNA BE A FIVE-ALARM DRAMA FIRE. I’M LITERALLY VPN’D IN FOR THIS.】 【MY APARTMENT JUST FLOODED SO I HAVE NOWHERE ELSE TO BE. I’M STAYING TOO.】 2 What the hell? Ethan is going to get his memory back tonight? My mind went blank, a buzzing static rooting me to the spot. If he remembers… If he remembers all the shameful things I’ve coached him to do. All the twisted, possessive names I’ve made him call me. The time I got a little too into it and made him kneel on the floor, told him to be a good dog and lick my feet. He would kill me. He would literally kill me on the spot. Just the thought of him remembering sent a wave of goosebumps across my skin. My vision swam, and I stumbled. A strong hand wrapped around my waist, steadying me. Ethan leaned in, his brow furrowed with genuine concern. “Baby, are you not feeling well?” …Oh, you have got to be kidding me. A moment ago, “baby” was a prelude to pleasure. Now, it sounded like a death sentence. The skin where he touched me burned. Not feeling well. The thought of his memory returning tonight made my whole body feel sick. I nodded quickly, seizing the excuse. “Yeah, I actually feel awful. I think we should sleep separately tonight—” “Okay.” My jaw dropped. Ethan took my hand and pressed it flat against his firm, sculpted chest. His eyes darkened. “Feel better now?” My brain short-circuited. I managed to shake my head, a pathetic attempt at sanity. I tried to pull my hand back, but he guided it lower. He looked at me, his expression a mask of pure innocence, as if he were simply solving a problem for me. “Still not feeling well? How about now?” The last thread of my reason snapped. I fell into his arms. A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Maya’s reaction tells me she’s feeling much better now.” Damn it. He was a miracle worker. A true healer. 3 By the time I remembered what that spectral peanut gallery had said, it was too late. Lost to lust, I’d already dragged Ethan into oblivion with me. The stuff in the water glass must have been potent. I was completely satisfied, drifting in that post-coital calm, but Ethan, his eyes still red-rimmed and hazy, was dragging my ankle back, begging for one more round. “Baby, I helped you feel better. Now can you help me? Please?” “Please, I’m begging you.” I hesitated. After all, the dose in his water was more than triple the usual amount. And today I’d learned it wasn’t Serenity Dust at all. If I left him like this, he’d be in agony. But what if his memory came back in the middle of it? I wouldn’t even have time to run. But right now… I looked at him, his body arched in discomfort, yet he wouldn’t make a move without my permission. Fine. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Just one more.” As we lost ourselves again, the text reappeared. 【I CAN’T WITH HER. I’VE NEVER SEEN A MAIN CHARACTER THIS HORNY.】 【SHE’S GONNA GET HERS IN A MINUTE. ETHAN’S ABOUT TO REMEMBER EVERYTHING.】 【SAY WHAT YOU WILL, BUT SHE’S CREATIVE. LOOK AT ALL THE… PROPS. TSK TSK.】 【BUT HE’S CLEARLY ENJOYING IT TOO? WHY DOES HE GET SO COLD TO HER AFTER HE REMEMBERS?】 【BECAUSE HE’S A STUBBORN ASS. SHE’S A DRAMA QUEEN AND HE’S AN EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED FOOL. THEY ONLY HAVE THEMSELVES TO BLAME. I’M TELLING YOU…】 Drama queen? Me? What were they saying? Before I could read the rest, my ankle was pulled, and I tumbled into the sheets, the world spinning. I tried to push myself up. But my wrists were pinned. The Ethan above me had changed. The haze of desire was gone, replaced by a profound confusion in his foggy eyes. He looked like he was struggling to process his surroundings, his voice hesitant. “Maya? What are we… doing?” …Seriously, dude? Those things under your eyebrows are called eyes. Open them. The text popped up again. 【DOING IT.】 【DOING WHAT?】 【IT!】 【YEAH, I’M ASKING WHAT ‘IT’ IS? AND YOUR ATTITUDE SUCKS, CAN’T YOU JUST USE YOUR WORDS?】 【EVERYONE ELSE IS ON THE HIGHWAY AND THIS DUDE IS STILL IN THE PARKING LOT. I’M DYING.】 【SHUT UP EVERYONE! IT’S HAPPENING! THE BIG REVEAL! PREPARE FOR THE ANGST ARC!】 【UGH. THIS COULD HAVE BEEN A SWEET ROM-COM BUT NO, WE HAVE TO HAVE THE ‘CHASE THE WIFE TO THE CREMATORIUM’ TROPE. AND I MEAN A LITERAL CREMATORIUM. SHE GETS BURNED TO ASHES.】 【AND THEN HE KILLS HIMSELF. DOUBLE DEATH EQUALS A HAPPY ENDING, APPARENTLY. CAN SOMEONE TELL ME HOW I GOT SUCKERED INTO THIS? I THOUGHT THE TAGS SAID ‘FLUFF’! I WANT MY MONEY BACK!】 【IT’S OVER! HE’S FULLY AWAKE!】 My head snapped up. I met Ethan’s eyes, which were now perfectly, terrifyingly clear. His lips parted, about to speak. I raised my hand, my palm stopping a mere inch from his face. And then— I drew back, wound up, and swung with all my might. SLAP. Crematoriums? Burned to ashes? Some twisted double-suicide pact? All that bullshit because he gets his memory back? To hell with that. Then you can just stay asleep.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385644”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After I was reborn, I found myself tethered to a Misery System. Only then did I realize I was the throwaway daughter in a tragic novel. The rule was simple: the more I suffered, the more money I’d get. Just as my parents brought home the daughter of my dad’s fallen army buddy, ready to lay down the new house rules for their adoption, I beat them to it. “I’ve already cleared out my room. Mrs. Gable’s son went off to college and she’s lonely, so I’ll be staying with her for a while.” “All that stuff in there was just cheap junk you got me for my birthdays. I figured Maya wouldn’t like it, so I had a junk collector haul it away. It came to $531.20. I sent you the request in the group chat.” “Oh, and you’re probably too busy for the parent-teacher conference next week, so I asked Mr. Henderson, my history teacher, to stand in for you.” “Mr. and Mrs. Henderson have always been so good to me. It wouldn’t be a big deal if I started calling them Mom and Dad, right? After all, it’s not like you’re short one daughter now.” My parents’ faces grew darker with every word I spoke. The System shrieked in my head, furious at my laid-back rebellion. But a second later, a different notification chimed. A hundred thousand dollars had been deposited into my account. Well, this wasn’t so hard after all. Misery is misery, right? Who says it has to be mine? 1 My father’s brow furrowed into a knot of fury. “You sold everything in your room?” “Just because we brought Maya home, you had to pull this cheap, vindictive stunt?” “How old are you?! How did you get so malicious?!” I was still basking in the glow of the sudden ten-grand windfall, and it took me a moment to snap back to reality. After being reborn and learning I was just cannon fodder in someone else’s tragedy, my initial plan was to simply check out. I didn’t want the pain, and I certainly didn’t want to profit from it. I just wanted to live one life, peacefully. But I never imagined that tormenting my parents could also trigger a payout. Now this was a game-changer. After the hell they put me through in my last life, it was time to collect, with interest. I waited quietly for my father’s tirade to run out of steam before I spoke, my voice soft. “But Dad, weren’t you the one who told me to get rid of all that junk yesterday?” The room fell silent. “I told you yesterday, those were my birthday presents from every year since I was a little girl. They were my best memories. I said I couldn’t bear to throw them away.” “And what did you say then?” I paused, perfectly mimicking his dismissive tone from the day before. “‘It’s all moldy and you treat it like treasure? Just toss it. That crap is just taking up space.’” “So, I did as you asked. I didn’t throw it out, though. I sold it. Made over five hundred bucks. Turns out my ‘best memories’ were worth a little something after all.” “So why are you yelling at me now?” My father froze. He seemed to remember where all that “crap” had come from. Every birthday, every Christmas, he had bought those things for me, piece by piece. There was a time, when I was little, that he truly loved me. That all changed the day Maya entered our lives. But he was too stubborn to admit it. “You dare talk back to me?! I’ll teach you a lesson.” “That’s enough!” my mother cut in, frowning. “Your father was just talking. Why do you have to take everything so literally?” “And you can stop running around. For now, you can sleep on the folding cot in the living room. We’ll clear out the storage room for you soon enough.” I feigned shock. “The storage room? It’s so dark and damp, you can barely turn around in there. You’d really let poor Maya sleep in a place like that?” At that, my father snatched an ashtray and hurled it to the floor, where it shattered. “Stop playing dumb! That room is for you!” “You’re my daughter! You can handle a little hardship, can’t you?!” Seeing his rage, my mother quickly tried to smooth things over. “Let’s not talk about that. Ava, didn’t you want to go camping at South Creek?” “I took time off work. We’ll go this weekend, all of us. We’ll take Maya with us.” The irony was so thick I could taste it. “Mom, you’ve been dangling that South Creek camping trip in front of me for three years.” “Every single time, you were too busy, no time. But the moment Maya shows up, you can suddenly take a vacation?” My mother’s face hardened, her brow knitting in annoyance. “Why do you have to be so petty?” “That was then, this is now. Maya just lost her father. What’s wrong with me taking a few days off to be with her?” I shook my head, my voice laced with regret. “Well, that’s a shame. I’ve already made plans with Mrs. Gable for this weekend.” “You three have a wonderful time. Remember to take lots of pictures. And if you feel awkward posting a family photo with me missing, feel free to Photoshop me in. I really don’t mind.” My father’s brow tightened again. “You ignore your own family to run off and take care of strangers? What is wrong with you?” I straightened up, my expression suddenly serious. “Dad, you’re thinking too small.” “Mrs. Gable tells everyone what a wonderful job you’ve done raising me. I’m building your reputation in the community. You should be proud.” My words seemed to paralyze him. His jaw twitched. “You really are something else. Her son goes abroad, and you rush over to be the perfect substitute child.” “I raised you all these years just so you could lecture me?!” He paced back and forth, fuming, then spun around and pointed a finger at me. “Fine! Go! Go be Mrs. Gable’s daughter right now!” “And don’t you dare call me Dad anymore! Go on, let her adopt you! Let’s see what kind of touching mother-daughter drama you two can cook up!” Sensing the spotlight had shifted away from her, Maya placed a slender hand on her forehead and swayed, a delicate flower collapsing onto the sofa. “Uncle, Auntie, please don’t fight because of me.” “I think… I think my father in heaven wouldn’t want to see you unhappy because of me.” The mention of her deceased father instantly softened my parents’ expressions. They turned to her, cooing and comforting their precious treasure. With no one blocking my way, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out without a backward glance. 2 In my last life, being “too understanding” was what killed me. After Maya arrived, my parents’ world revolved around her. All their love, all their time, was hers. The only time I ever tried to “compete” was when I was burning up with a fever. I mustered the courage to call them. The call ended with my father screaming me into a bloody pulp over the phone. “You wake us up in the middle of the night because you have a fever?” “Go to the hospital yourself. Your sister has her final exams tomorrow. Your mother and I are here with her. We don’t have time to come back.” I was shaking uncontrollably from the fever. The moment I hung up, I collapsed. If Mrs. Gable hadn’t come over with some soup and found me, that fever would have been the end of me. When I was later diagnosed with severe depression, my father called and berated me for two hours straight, every word a nail in my coffin. Dad, you said we were family, that we should be the ones to understand each other the most. So I tolerated your favoritism. I gave way to Maya at every turn. But I understood you. Who was there to understand me? The memories of my past life sent a wave of raw emotion through me, a tide of grief flooding my heart. The System’s mechanical voice suddenly crackled to life. 【ALERT! Host’s emotional state is in extreme flux. Severe suffering detected. Misery System activating.】 【As long as the host continues to suffer, the system will provide immense rewards to help the host reach the pinnacle of life.】 【Host, you must find ways to suffer…】 【Wait… that’s not right…】 【Why has the initial ten-thousand-dollar reward already been disbursed?】 【The ones being tormented… are the host’s parents?!】 【This must be a system error. Host, please cease this dangerous behavior. You should know, I am a veteran system that has guided many hosts…】 Before the System could finish, my phone began to vibrate violently. I didn’t need to look. It was my parents, bombarding the family group chat. The System’s voice grew laced with astonishment. 【No, no, this can’t be… The system is registering an overwhelming influx of misery-data from the host’s parents!】 【TRIGGERING STAGE TWO REWARD. ONE MILLION DOLLARS!】 【My god… so this is how the system can be played?】 The notification of a million dollars hitting my bank account completely washed away the lingering sorrow. “System,” I said, my voice calm, “after the hell of my last life, I already decided. If I have to make a living by being miserable, I’d rather be broke.” “This time, I’m going to live for myself.” The System seemed to have accepted the bug in its own programming. 【So, what is the host’s plan now?】 A small smile played on my lips. “If their misery is my profit, then I’m going to keep hitting them with all the emotional manipulation they ever threw at me. I’m going to make them hurt.” With that, I turned and walked decisively toward the Gables’ house. 3 Soon enough, my parents cut off my allowance. They thought it would force me to come crawling back. I couldn’t have cared less. Instead, I invited Mrs. Gable’s husband, David, the head of a tech firm, out for coffee. Being reborn meant my head was filled with knowledge of the future. Mr. Gable scanned my business proposal, his casual glance slowly sharpening into focused intensity. “You’ve got guts, and a brilliant vision. Come to my office on Monday. We’ll talk details.” He added, his tone serious, “Your parents are going to deeply regret choosing their adopted daughter over you.” Before I knew it, it was my father’s birthday. The first thing on my feed was Maya’s nine-photo grid, with a picture of my parents hugging her as they cut a cake right in the center. My father’s comment was right below it: 【Thank you, my sweet girl. Having you is the greatest blessing a father could ask for!】 He’d even added five red heart emojis. I lightly tapped the ‘like’ button. Not two minutes later, a message from my mother popped up: 【I see you ‘liked’ the post. You have time to scroll on your phone but no time to come home for your father’s birthday. Some daughter you are.】 【So what if Maya is with us now? Can’t you try to understand our situation?】 Understand? Oh, I understood perfectly. After all, Maya wasn’t the only one busy celebrating someone else’s father’s birthday. My mother waited and waited, but my reply never came. She slammed her phone down on the coffee table, rubbing her temples in frustration. My father, scrolling leisurely on his own phone, sneered. “You’re still wasting time messaging her? She’s probably eating instant noodles in some crappy apartment right now.” “Let her get a taste of the real world. She’ll come running back home soon enough…” His voice trailed off. On the local news livestream, a broadcast from a river cruise lit up his screen. There I was, smiling, presenting a custom-made cake to Mr. and Mrs. Gable. The cruise ship was a galaxy of lights on the dark water, and comments flew across the screen: 【Now THAT is a daughter of the year. I’m not jealous at all. Nope.】 【Proudest dad on the internet right now. Look at Mr. Gable’s grin, it’s splitting his face!】 My phone buzzed wildly. It was my father. “Ava, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” “It’s Mr. Gable’s birthday too. I’m helping him celebrate. What’s the problem?” My father laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “He has his own son. Does he really need some outsider fawning over him?” I feigned shock, raising my voice. “Dad, keep it down! What if Maya hears you? That would break her heart.” I could hear him shaking with rage on the other end. “What does this have to do with Maya? Stop dragging her into this.” “How does it not have anything to do with her?” I said slowly, cutting a slice of cake. “Dad, you treat Maya better than you treat your own flesh and blood. For all you know, she probably thinks of you as her real father.” “And you know, Mr. Gable said the same thing. He said I’m so good to them, they’ll treat me like their own daughter. Better than their own son, even.” “Oh, wait. Maybe I should start calling him Dad David now.” “You—!” “Hey, hey, don’t get upset. Your birthday present from me arrived. Don’t forget to grab it.” At the mention of a gift, he managed to choke back his anger. “Well… at least you have some conscience left…” My father eyed the crumpled cardboard box by the door with suspicion. It had arrived earlier, looking so beaten up he’d assumed it was something cheap my mother had ordered and ignored it. As he tore it open, I heard Maya’s gasp on the other end of the line. “Oh! Why did Ava send you work gloves? You can get these on the street for like, five dollars…” A heavy, ragged breathing came through the phone. It was my father. “…This is it? Are you sure you sent the right thing?” “I raised you for eighteen years, and this is all you think I’m worth? This garbage?” I sighed dramatically. “If I send you something expensive, you say I’m wasteful. If I send you something cheap, you say it’s an insult.” “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?” “Or is it that as long as it comes from Maya, you’d treasure it even if it was a blade of grass?” It was as if I’d struck a nerve. He exploded. “What’s with that sarcastic tone? Do you think this is about the price?” “It’s about the lack of thought! You just fob me off with this junk!” Maya chimed in with her fake concern. “Uncle, don’t be angry. Maybe Ava is just a little short on cash…” Just then, the cruise ship’s announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. “And now, a special presentation from our very own Ms. Ava, a sixty-thousand-dollar fireworks display in honor of Mr. Gable!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385660”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The night Julian Thorne brought his adopted sister home, she padded to our bedroom door. The white nightgown she was wearing was dangerously short. “Julian? I’m scared… I can’t sleep alone.” Julian sighed, got out of our bed, and gently told me to go to sleep. I sat alone in the dark for a long time. Then I called a dozen male models from Ford and told them the party was at my house. … The music and laughter are what finally lured Julian from her room. “Out.” His voice was quiet, but it sent an icy chill down everyone’s spine. The models scattered. The living room was suddenly empty, save for the two of us. “What is this, Cassia?” Julian asked, his brow furrowed. Behind him, Zoe was still wearing that ridiculous white lace thing, her hair loose, looking like a victim. I leaned back on the sofa, crossed my legs, and sipped my champagne. “Your sister was scared. I just called some people to keep her company.” Zoe’s face went pale. “What do you think I am?” I smiled, my voice sweet and sharp. “A shameless little tramp who hits on her own brother?” Julian’s face went cold. “Cassia.” Zoe’s eyes filled with tears, her body shaking with rage. “Who are you to talk? Everyone knows what you were! A slut! If it wasn’t for our families’ engagement, my brother would never have married a woman like you!” “Zoe, that’s enough!” She recoiled, tears streaming. “You’re yelling at me? For her? Didn’t you hear how she insulted me? Fine! I’ll leave! I’ll just go!” She made a dramatic, sobbing dash for the front door, the tiny nightgown practically falling off her. Julian, exasperated, caught her, scooped her up, and carried her back to her room. When he returned, he looked exhausted. “Go to bed, Cassia.” I just stared at him, cold. “I’m tired,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I’m exhausted. Can we please not do this?” “Did you hear what your sister called me?” “Zoe’s young, she says things she doesn’t mean. I’ll apologize on her behalf.” I laughed, a sharp, ugly sound. “She’s not wrong. Our families are well-matched. A merger. An arranged marriage. And I was a party girl, Julian. I never had a shortage of men. Especially beautiful men.” His jaw tightened. He crossed the room, pushed me back against the sofa, and gave me a hard, punishing kiss. His voice was a low growl. “Cassia, need I remind you that you are my wife?” I smiled, but my eyes were burning. “And need I remind you who it was that dragged me out of clubs, night after night? Who insisted on being my ‘fiancé’ when I didn’t want one? Who was it that begged and pleaded to marry me?” He softened, resting his forehead against mine. “It was me. It was always me.” I pushed him away. “Julian,” I said, my voice flat, “it’s her or me. Tomorrow, she’s gone.” I slammed the bedroom door. The next morning, Zoe was at the breakfast table, wearing Julian’s shirt, happily greeting me. “Hi, ‘sister!’ Good morning!” I froze. The bottom dropped out of my world. 2 Julian, who hadn’t set foot in our kitchen in the three years we’d been married, was standing at the stove. In an apron. Making soup. “Cassia, you have to try this! Julian’s fish bisque is the best. Anytime I’m upset, he makes it for me, and it fixes everything!” Yesterday she called me a slut. Today she was bragging about how he took care of her. Julian just looked over, as if nothing was wrong. “You’re up. Come sit.” Did he think I was joking? Or had he already made his choice? I took a deep breath, fighting the nausea and rage, and called my new assistant. “Alex, I need breakfast. A black coffee and a croissant. My desk. Nine AM.” I turned and walked out. I heard Zoe’s complaint behind me. “I was being nice, and she’s still pouting! Whatever. More for me. You made it for me anyway, right, Julian?” On the way to the office, I called my brother. “I want a divorce.” “Are you kidding me?” “No.” “Did… Julian agree? He fought like hell to marry you, Cassia…” “His opinion doesn’t matter,” I snapped. “I’m divorcing him.” “Okay. Give me a month. I’ll get the paperwork started.” I threw my phone on the passenger seat and stared at the trees flashing by. This morning, I decided. I’m done, Julian. You and your sister can have each other. After the morning meeting, Julian’s assistant, Scott, delivered a massive bouquet of my favorite yellow roses. I glanced at them and handed the vase to my new assistant. “Here. For your desk.” Julian, who was waiting in my office, saw the whole thing. I didn’t care. I pulled my black card from my wallet and tucked it into Alex’s shirt pocket. “The breakfast was perfect. A reward.” Alex just smiled and took it. “Thank you, boss.” Julian watched him leave, his face impassive. Then he cornered me, pressing me against my desk. “You know exactly how to make me angry. Is this your revenge?” 3 “Please,” I sneered. “If I wanted revenge, I’d have given him a key to my penthouse, not a credit card.” Julian’s face softened into a sigh. “I skipped my entire morning agenda to see you. Are you still mad?” He pulled me into his arms. “Cassia, what are you even mad about?” I almost laughed. I’d been furious for twelve hours, and he didn’t even know why. I held up my phone. It was a friend request from Zoe. The profile picture was new. It was her, this morning, still wearing his shirt, posing playfully in a field of yellow roses. “The breakfast,” I said, my voice dead. “You made it for her. We’ve been married three years, and you’ve never even boiled water for me.” “The flowers. You sent me one bouquet. You gave her an entire garden.” He was silent for a moment. “If that’s what this is about, I can cook for you tonight. I can send you…” “Stop it!” I shouted. “Don’t you get it? She is crossing a line, Julian! And you’re letting her!” He looked baffled. “Cassia, what are you talking about? She’s just my sister.” “I’m a sister!” I shot back. “I don’t prance around my brother’s house in lingerie. I don’t crawl into his bed at twenty-something years old. And I sure as hell don’t leave bite marks on his collarbone.” He flinched, his hand instinctively going to his neck. “Last night. Did you think I wouldn’t see it?” He actually looked amused. “She’s always been like that. She bites. Like a puppy.” “I don’t want to hear it,” I snapped. “You forget, she’s not your blood sister.” He stiffened. “No, she’s not. But don’t imply something so disgusting.” “Get out.” But he just smiled, a slow, infuriating smile. He leaned in. “Cassia. It’s been a long time since you were jealous.” “I’ll tell her to watch herself. Don’t be mad. Please?” He knew exactly how to calm me down. I was about to say something when his phone rang. Zoe. 4 He glanced at the screen, sighed, and sent the call to voicemail. He took my hand. “I’ll call my parents. I’ll have her move back home.” His lips brushed my ear. “Come home early. What do you want for dinner? This time, I’ll make it just for you.” I suddenly remembered him, years ago, dragging me out of a club, his face a mask of anger. But he never yelled. He just held my face, his eyes red-rimmed and desperate. “Cassia, what do I have to do? Just tell me.” I softened. “Okay, Julian. I’ll trust you. One more time.” I squeezed his hand. “But if you lie to me… I will never, ever forgive you.” He smiled, kissing my eyelids. “Cassia, I have never lied to you.” … When I got home that night, Julian wasn’t back. Zoe was on the sofa, radiating anger. “Why didn’t you accept my friend request?” I ignored her. “Is there a reason?” “What did you say to him?” she shrieked, blocking my path. “Why is he making me leave?” I didn’t want to engage. But she suddenly grabbed a vase and threw it at me. It shattered against my temple. The pain was blinding. I felt glass and rose thorns scrape my face and arms. Just as I stumbled, the front door opened. Zoe grabbed a jagged piece of glass and held it to her own wrist. “I was just trying to apologize!” she screamed at me, tears streaming. “Why do you hate me so much? Is this what you want? Do I have to die to make you happy?” Julian’s eyes widened in horror. “Zoe!” “Brother…” she sobbed, “I know I’m the extra one. I won’t get in the way of your happiness. I won’t…” Blood welled up. Julian’s face went white. He’d never looked so terrified. “Don’t be stupid! I’m taking you to the hospital!” He swept her into his arms. He didn’t even look at me. Panic seized me. “Julian! She’s faking! She did this to herself!” He was already out the door. I slid down the wall, my legs giving out. My heart felt like it had been cut, too.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385676”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel