Category: English

At my best friend’s bachelorette party, we played “Never Have I Ever.” I raised my only remaining finger and delivered the final blow: “Never have I ever dated a billionaire heir.” Someone teased me: “Every rich kid in Manhattan calls themselves a prince. Which one did you date?” “Upper East Side. Last name Sterling.” Silence fell over the room instantly. My best friend’s fiancé spoke up quietly. “So the girl who dumped Julian Sterling back then… was you?” 1 My vision was already blurring. I struggled to keep my eyelids open and asked Mark, sitting opposite me, “How… do you know his name? Do you… know him?” He snapped out of it, fiddling with his phone as if nothing happened. “Don’t know him. But I know there’s only one Sterling family on the Upper East Side.” “Right, that’s the one.” My best friend, Chloe, leaned in, eager for gossip. “If he’s a billionaire heir, his family must be loaded, right?” “Mhm,” I gestured with my hands. “His family’s backyard has a whole private garden with a fountain. The kind you can host weddings in.” “Woah! A private garden in the Upper East Side? That’s not just rich, that’s old money! By the way, was he good to you?” “Good. Really good. Thanks to him, I finished college smoothly.” “So… was he handsome?” A face as exquisite as a renaissance painting popped into my mind. I nodded. “He could give Hollywood stars a run for their money.” That’s why they say you shouldn’t meet someone too amazing when you’re young. It raises the bar for love impossibly high. Everyone else becomes a compromise. Chloe sighed. “Handsome, rich, and good to you. Why on earth did you dump him?” I was silent for a few seconds. “Well… I wouldn’t call it dumping him. You know, families like that rarely accept a girl with a background like mine.” Mark suddenly got interested. He tossed his phone on the table and jerked his chin at the others in the private room. Everyone present, except for Chloe and me, were Mark’s friends from New York. They exchanged glances and instantly understood. One by one, they left the terrace to play poker downstairs. Only Chloe, Mark, and I remained on the terrace. He poured me a glass of wine. “Tell us more. Did his mom force you out?” Not exactly. With her status, she didn’t need to use underhanded tactics on me. She just… made me face reality. It was near graduation. Julian was planning a trip for us and asked where I wanted to go. I saw a TikTok about Iceland’s volcanoes and glaciers being beautiful. Excitedly, I showed it to him. But I heard him on the phone. His tone suppressed annoyance. “I’m very busy lately, no time to come back.” … “She’s busy too, dealing with internships and her thesis.” … “Stop saying these things. Don’t call me again if it’s just this.” He hung up and turned to see me. The hastily lowered eyelids couldn’t hide his panic. I was anxious. “Was that your family?” “Yeah.” “Should you go back and check?” “No need.” He saw the video on my phone and changed the subject. “So, decided where to go yet?” We had just set the date for Iceland. On my way home from work, a car blocked my path. The window rolled down slowly, revealing a glamorous and dignified face. “Hello, Miss Jensen. I’m Julian’s mother.” I glanced at the license plate. Not something an ordinary family could own. Mrs. Sterling smiled. “Don’t be nervous. I just want to invite you for a casual dinner. I mentioned it to Julian, but he said you were busy, so I had to come personally.” I stood frozen. I looked down to call Julian. “Julian is at a business dinner right now. It’s best not to disturb him with small matters.” One look from her, and two bodyguards stepped out. One took my phone; the other “invited” me into the car. I had no choice but to follow. The Sterling mansion was on the Upper East Side. Through the window, I could see the expansive private garden. I realized his family wealth was far beyond my imagination. In the living room sat another woman. Mrs. Sterling introduced us with a smile on her lips. “That is Miss Vance. Julian’s fiancée.” Looking at the woman who shared a similar aura with Julian. I was stunned, unable to take a step. When did this happen? How did I not notice a thing? Seeing my pale face, Mrs. Sterling’s smile deepened. “What? Julian didn’t tell you? They’ve been engaged for a long time.” “Well, no need to tell outsiders about family matters.” She left me and walked towards Miss Vance. “Is this the one Julian is keeping on the side? She looks decent.” Mrs. Sterling nodded, seemingly praising me. “The girl is quite ambitious. Heard she’s the valedictorian of her class. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have caught Julian’s eye.” Miss Vance glanced at me indifferently. “Heard she’s from a small town in the Midwest? How did they meet? Is her background clean?” “Don’t worry about that. Julian doesn’t mess around. There’s a reason for it, so I didn’t interfere too much.” “Julian’s father fell down a slope while hiking in the mountains years ago. This girl ran down the mountain to get help.” “He left her a contact number, saying she could ask for help anytime. She never called. Later, when she turned eighteen, her family tricked her back home, locked her up, and tried to force her to marry for a dowry. Desperate, she called that number. Julian picked up. Lucky girl.” “After that, Julian started sponsoring her. Until she came to New York for college and they met. That’s how it started.” Miss Vance smirked. “With such a deep bond, I feel like the intruder.” Mrs. Sterling chuckled lightly. “She’s from the mountains; she lacks sophistication. For knowing when to advance and retreat, it has to be you. Julian knows this too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be hiding her away, afraid to bring her out to meet people.” “I don’t care about the past, but since we’re discussing marriage, how does Julian plan to handle her?” Mrs. Sterling remained calm. “Julian sponsored her for so many years. If she knows gratitude, she’ll know what to do. If not, there’s me. I can handle a small matter like this without bothering Julian.” Their conversation drifted clearly into my ears. My chest felt heavy. Breathing was difficult. So, Julian’s irritability and panic were because of this. He was about to marry someone else and didn’t know how to tell me. The row of bodyguards behind me was like a wall. I couldn’t even run away. Miss Vance showed a hint of a smile. “With you handling it, Auntie, I’m relieved. By the way, I bought some vintage wine in Spain recently. You should try it.” This meant the deal was done. Mrs. Sterling smiled, signaling dinner to be served. “Tonight’s main course is fish. It’s the season for it…” They chatted away. I held on to my dignity and excused myself. Mrs. Sterling looked over indifferently. “Since Miss Jensen won’t do us the honor, I won’t force you.” This time, the bodyguards didn’t block my way. I went home and packed my things. Planning my way out. This apartment was bought by Julian when I started my internship to make my commute easier. After breaking up, I had no reason to stay. Luckily, housing wasn’t hard to solve. More than two months until graduation. I could apply for company housing early. Iceland was off the table. I comforted myself. It’s so cold there anyway, nothing to see. I kept a ledger of Julian’s financial support over the years. I’d organize it later. Pay back what I can now. The rest, I’d save up and pay him back in installments. After all, we had feelings for a few years; he wouldn’t be so heartless as to demand immediate repayment upon breakup. What else? I listed the things I needed to separate from Julian one by one. The list got longer and longer. My emotions collapsed when my gaze landed on the ring on my hand. He gave me this ring, promising we’d marry after graduation. I sat on the floor, sobbing until I gasped for air. My fingers shook so bad I couldn’t get the ring off. The electronic lock beeped. The door was yanked open. Julian’s chest heaved violently, knuckles white. Seeing I was still there, he took a deep breath and silently closed the door. He walked in, took the clothes I packed out of the suitcase, and hung them back in the closet. I took them down. He put them back. After a few times, I exploded. I rudely stuffed the clothes into the suitcase. “Julian, let’s break up.” He was silent for a long time, then spoke: “I never liked Chloe Vance, and I never got engaged to her.” “That was their decision, not mine.” I didn’t speak, still packing. He came over and pressed my hand. “Sarah, I love you.” I froze, meeting his red eyes. Only then did I see. His shirt was stained with wine. His face was flushed, with a faint slap mark. In that moment, the pain for him outweighed my own. I touched his face, forcing a smile. “Julian, I’m fine. Being with you these years, I came out ahead. You… you should listen to your family and marry Miss Vance…” He pulled me into his arms, holding my waist tightly. “I won’t. No one can force me.” He choked up, throat bobbing several times. “Sarah, we aren’t breaking up. I can handle it. Trust me.” Hugs give people strength. Holding Julian, I suddenly didn’t want to overthink anymore. Things hadn’t reached the worst point yet. Mrs. Sterling couldn’t convince Julian. So she came for me. I thought for a moment and nodded. “Okay.” “We’ll stick to the plan. Iceland in a while.” “Okay.” But what came faster than Iceland was his transfer notice. I received the message and rushed home. Julian had already packed. Behind him stood two familiar bodyguards. My eyes reddened instantly. “Why are you being transferred out of New York all of a sudden? Is it because of me?” He put down his luggage and comforted me. “Don’t cry. It’s a normal organizational rotation. I’ll be back in two years.” I sobbed, intermittently: “So… where are you going?” He lowered his head, silent for a while before spitting out a place name. I hadn’t heard of it. I searched on my phone. A remote, desolate town, thousands of miles from New York. Surrounded by mountains. I understood instantly. This was his mother’s warning. I pushed him away, trembling, tears streaming down my face. “Go back to the Upper East Side right now. Tell her you accept the arrangement. It’s just a marriage? You can…” “Sarah!” Julian interrupted me sharply. “I don’t care, but you want to give up on me because of this?” We had been together for over two years. He had never been this harsh with me. I knew he was truly angry. When Julian confessed to me, I hesitated too. With our relationship, being friends was hard enough. I owed him more and more; we were never equals. I shouldn’t have mixed feelings into it. But he was stubborn. He only asked if I liked him. He was the gentleman who saved me from danger. How could I not like him? He sighed in relief. “I like you, you like me. There’s no better reason to be together.” I slowly realized that as long as two people love each other, nothing else matters. Until that day I met Chloe Vance. That relaxation bred by money and superior background. I would never possess it in this lifetime. I cried and apologized, “But I really don’t want to drag you down.” He took a deep breath, softening his tone. “You aren’t dragging me down. I always wanted to escape my mother. This is the best chance. I must go. Will you wait for me?” I didn’t speak. “Will you wait for me?” He lifted my chin, looking into my eyes, forcing an answer. “…Mhm.” Red-eyed, he pulled me into his arms and kissed my forehead. “The infrastructure there isn’t great, cell service is spotty. I’ll write letters if I miss you.” “Mhm.” “Stay here and wait for me obediently. Just two years.” 2 But actually, that was the last time we saw each other. One month after Julian left. I received his letter. He told me he was doing well. Although remote, the people were simple and honest, and the scenery was nice. He occasionally went to villagers’ homes to teach kids how to read. [Sarah, work hard, live well, don’t think about anything else. Two years later, I’ll come back to marry you.] Mrs. Sterling found me again. Her expression was meaningful. “Don’t think you’ve won.” “He thinks he can sacrifice his future for you now, but look again in three or five years.” “When those with less background than him climb much higher than him, he will blame you. Blame you for not leaving cleanly back then, for dragging him down.” “You think love can overcome all difficulties? Wrong. In the end, you’ll only resent each other.” I couldn’t refute her. It was almost summer. Yet I felt a bone-deep chill rising from my back, spreading through my body. I forced myself to go home. Someone unexpected was waiting at the door. Chloe Vance threw a few photos at me and asked, “Want to see Julian? I’ll take you.” New York to Cangping was over two thousand miles. Even flying took hours. After landing, Chloe’s people drove us into the mountains in an SUV. The car drove for a long time before stopping by the road. Chloe pointed to the crowd by the shallow river at the foot of the mountain. “There, Julian is there.” I remembered the first time I saw Julian. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, standing at our university gate in a crisp suit, not a single wrinkle on his pants. Such a beautiful, exquisite man, even in a crowded place, was dazzlingly impossible to ignore. And now, I clung to the car window, squinting to identify him. He was tanned. Helping some villagers catch a pig. Inexperienced, he was knocked over by the pig several times. His pants were muddy, his shirt wrinkled. Just as dusty and dirty as in the photos Chloe showed me. For the first time, I felt he looked pathetic. My nose stung, tears falling patter-patter. How could he be so pathetic? Chloe looked on with a sigh. “Among the wealthy heirs of this generation in New York, Julian is the most capable. My dad says Julian’s future achievements might even surpass his mother’s.” “For Mrs. Sterling to sit in her current position, she is definitely not a soft-hearted woman. She won’t compromise just because she sees Julian suffering. I’ll be straight with you: if he keeps messing around, Mrs. Sterling will abandon him.” She rolled down the window and lit a cigarette. “Honestly, Sarah, I don’t want to interfere between you two. But I’ve enjoyed the benefits my family provided for so many years; I can’t flip the table when the family needs me.” “Julian doesn’t understand this. He flipped it completely, but what’s the result?” “He was so glorious in New York, so many people bowing and scraping to please him. Now he’s reduced to this, helping people catch pigs today, finding lost dogs for villagers tomorrow. Sarah, are you happy seeing him like this?” “I have no love for him, so I don’t understand. Is love really more important than a person’s future? If you think so, you can go down and find him. The Song family has no need to marry someone abandoned by Mrs. Sterling.” I braced myself against the window, fingertips trembling unconsciously. Not far away, Julian and the others finally caught the pig. The villagers tied the pig up and carried it back. Julian remained, bending over with hands on knees. Like a bamboo bent under pressure. After catching his breath, he followed them. After a few steps, Julian suddenly looked up in this direction. There were many trees on the mountain; he didn’t notice the car. He turned his head and continued walking. The sun set in the west. I withdrew my gaze and said calmly, “Miss Vance, let’s go back.” “Are you sure?” “…Sorry for the trouble.” Chloe didn’t speak again, signaling the driver. She had gotten the answer she wanted. In the rearview mirror, Julian’s figure grew smaller and smaller. Mountain wind poured in, very cold. The car turned a corner. That mountain village disappeared completely. I closed my eyes, coolness seeping into my temples. Back in New York, packing my things took only two days. Before leaving, I cleaned the apartment spotless. As if I had never been there. Sitting on the high-speed train to Shanghai, I thought the breakup letter should be arriving soon. That summer, everything related to Julian Sterling came to an abrupt halt. For the next six years, I saw no news of him, heard not a whisper. I worked, started a business, busy surviving. Rarely had free time. I occasionally dreamt of him. Waking up, I would zone out. Longing is a long rainy season. In the humid haze, I could never wipe dry the part about Julian. So much so that for many years after, I lived in regret. If only I could have said goodbye properly. The atmosphere sank into silence. I wiped my tears, apologizing repeatedly. “Sorry, on such a happy day, I brought everyone down.” Mark stared at me for a while. Picked up the wine bottle and poured for me again. “Tonight is a truth session. Sarah, drink up! I have plenty.” Chloe glared at him. “The wedding is tomorrow. If she gets drunk, where am I going to find another bridesmaid? Too late to call someone.” “Relax wifey, hubby has it handled, OK? Sarah, back to the point, do you… still like him? Still want to be together?” I tilted my head and thought seriously, nodding. “Like.” Then shook my head. “But, can’t be together.” He’s probably married with kids by now. Besides, even if not, the problems from back then still exist today. I haven’t lost touch with reality after six years. Night wind squeezed through the terrace door crack. Moist, warm, carrying the specific tenderness of New York spring, like a lover’s caress. Warm wind plus alcohol went straight to my head. I soon felt dizzy. In my daze, I heard someone on the phone. Voice fading in and out, with inexplicable excitement. “Giving you a chance, get your ass back from Lanshi!” “I swear it’s her!” “If I’m lying, I’ll call you daddy!” 3 When the alarm rang. My head still hurt. Struggled to get up, shower, and change. Chloe called. “Honey, come down when you’re ready. Mark called his friend to pick you up. Makeup at the studio first, then back to the hotel together.” “No need, send me the location, I’ll take a cab.” “You came all the way from Shanghai to be my bridesmaid, how can I let you take a cab!” I had to hurry, changing shoes and taking the elevator. “Is it too much trouble for them…” “It’s fine, Mark says they’re tight. Rarely back in New York, gotta make use of him—” Elevator descended to B2, opened with a ding. Chloe’s voice echoed in the quiet parking garage. “—Mark sent the info, his friend is waiting in Zone C. License plate Lanshi BM0628, grey Touareg.” I paused. 0628, my birthday. “His friend… is he from New York?” “Yeah, but works in Lanshi. Said he couldn’t make it, but suddenly changed his mind last night…” While talking, I saw the person leaning against the car door. Head down, checking messages. I couldn’t see his face clearly. But my heart raced inexplicably, mouth dry. I hung up quickly. Turned to leave immediately. The person heard the noise. Put away his phone, took a long step. “Sarah Jensen, where are you going this time?” My back stiffened, turning like a puppet with rusted joints. The man in front of me had lost the sharpness of his youth. Even in casual clothes, he looked more composed and introverted. I quietly took off the ring on my right hand. Forcing a dignified smile, I extended my hand. “Hello Julian, long time no see.” He looked down at it, suddenly chuckled. “We know each other well enough, no need to be so polite. Let’s go, you’re the bridesmaid, don’t be late.” He acted naturally, but didn’t shake my hand. My heart felt empty for a second. Unsure if it was relief or disappointment. Taking a deep breath, I got into his car. Door closed, world silenced. Julian didn’t start the car immediately. I pretended to be calm, texting Chloe. [Did I embarrass myself last night?] She replied fast: [Nope. You just told the story about you and the prince of New York. Quite moving.] I closed my eyes. Might as well have embarrassed myself. “Have you been well these years?” The person beside me spoke suddenly. Startled, I almost dropped my phone. Steadying myself, I exchanged pleasantries, pretending to be carefree. “Pretty good, you?” Julian gripped the steering wheel, silent for a long time. Long enough to make me panic. He finally started the car. “Not too good.” 4 The whole wedding, I was out of it. When the bride and groom exchanged rings, someone nudged my arm before I snapped out of it. Hurriedly took the rings out of my bag to bring on stage. Accidentally stepped on my dress. Thought I was going to make a fool of myself. An arm extended from behind to steady me. I turned, thanking him with a blushing face. “No problem.” Julian politely withdrew his hand and retreated into the crowd. Mark on stage smiled mischievously. “Bro, you’re here too?” Julian glanced at him coolly. Full of warning. Mark shrank back, daring not provoke him further. I stood on stage, feeling that gaze bypass Mark and land on me. Focused, certain, calm as the deep sea. Guilty, I didn’t dare lift my head. After the wedding, I was just saying goodbye to Chloe and Mark, saying I had things to do. But Mark’s mom pulled me over to introduce me to Julian. “This is Sarah Jensen. She started a company with our Chloe. You know ‘Glimmer’? The hottest female community platform right now, Sarah built it from scratch.” Then turned to me. “Sarah, this is my godson Julian Sterling…” “Ahhhhhhh!” Chloe suddenly lifted her dress and screamed, jumping. “Ju-Ju-Ju-Ju… Julian Sterling? THE Julian Sterling from the Upper East Side?!” Mark’s mom was confused. “What’s wrong? Hearing his name like a cat stepping on hot bricks.” Julian’s lips curved slightly. “Sister-in-law probably heard some stories from Miss Jensen.” Mark’s mom’s eyes lit up. “What, you knew each other?” “Mhm, we used to date…” “Mr. Sterling sponsored me when I was in college. We often discussed my coursework, mhm.” I interrupted, signaling Julian with my eyes to stop. No need to dig up the past, causing trouble. Julian looked at me, face a bit cold. “Yes Godmother, later I dated Miss Jensen for a few years. When she graduated, I happened to be sent to the countryside, so she dumped me.” I didn’t expect him to be so blunt. He was stating facts. But logically, it sounded like I was an ungrateful woman who abandoned him when he was down. Mark’s mom paused, then looking at my expression, understood. “So there was such a story. I wondered why you delayed your trip to Ning City…” Julian coughed lightly. “Godmother.” “Okay okay, not saying it. So Julian, are you planning to chase Miss Jensen back?” Mark’s mom asked without avoiding me. Too awkward. Julian looked at me and said, “Not happening.” The atmosphere cooled instantly. Mark laughed dryly to smooth things over. “Didn’t Sarah say she had things to do? Julian, give her a ride.” I refused instinctively. “No need to trouble…” Julian grabbed his jacket with his left hand, and my wrist with his right. “Not trouble, I have time.” Heat traveled from where he held me straight to my cheeks. I looked down at that hand with defined knuckles. Dazed, I forgot to push him away. Until our figures disappeared completely. Chloe suddenly reacted. Kicked Mark in the shin. “Hiding it even from me! I’ll kill you, you bastard!” “Hey, hey, wifey don’t hit! I meant well right? You saw it yesterday, Sarah still likes him. If they work out, it’s a good deed!” “Did you not hear what Julian just said? He said ‘Not happening’!” “Psh! You didn’t see him half-dead back then. For Sarah, he hasn’t let go! He’s just being stubborn. Think about it, dumped by someone, and admitting he wants her back in front of everyone? Doesn’t he need to save face?” “But did you forget why they broke up? His family wouldn’t allow it. If it happens again, what about Sarah?” “Not gonna happen! Why do you think he stayed in Lanshi and didn’t return to New York? Just to avoid the path his mom laid out. With his current rank, his mom can’t control him anymore! Hard!” “…You better hope they work out. Otherwise if Sarah drifts away from me because of this, prepare to kneel on a washboard!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389383”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

There was a little wild spider in my apartment. After a brief stare-down, it dropped a coin and ran away. That night, a black, fuzzy little spider visited me in my dreams, acting incredibly cowardly. “…Hi there. The money is for you. Could you please, please not destroy the web I weave?” It added in a trembling voice: “Also… also, please don’t poke my butt anymore. I’m scared!” “I know living in a human’s house means paying rent. I will work hard to earn money and pay my share.” The little spider peeked out with just a sliver of its eyes. I looked down, staring at it. After a long while, I squeezed out a sentence. “Wait a minute… you look kind of familiar.” 1 It happened a second time. Another coin appeared on my vanity. And my vanity, which was a bit messy last night, had been tidied up. Everything was neatly organized. But this time. I caught the culprit red-handed. “A… spider?” The little spider, who was dragging the heavy coin with its back to me, froze. It slowly turned its head. Those oOOo eyes were filled with disbelief at seeing me awake. We stared at each other. The little spider got so scared its eight legs puffed out. It looked like a frightened kitten with its fur standing on end. It dropped the coin and ran. It scurried half a meter in a flash and vanished in the blink of an eye. I stood in silence, walked out of the room without a word. Then walked back in. “Maybe I organized the desk myself before bed last night and just forgot.” I comforted myself with a blank expression. I pretended not to see the extra coin. Then I grabbed my bag and scrambled out the door to go to work. Not because I was scared, but because if I didn’t leave now, I’d lose my perfect attendance bonus! That evening. I came home exhausted from work, not wanting to think about the bizarre event from the morning. But I still took a shower using sage and rosemary soap, just in case. I stared at the spotless ceiling for a while. Eventually. I confirmed that the cobwebs in the corner had been swept away. So I spoke to the air, “I don’t know if you’re a spider or a ghost controlling a spider, but thanks.” “The ceiling corners are very clean. It’s much nicer to look at.” Silence. I didn’t expect an answer anyway. But then, I heard a voice as faint as a mosquito from the corner: “…You’re welcome.” Me: “…” Ideally polite, for a bug. 2 That night, I dreamed. A fuzzy black spider with a tint of purple stood anxiously before me, keeping a meter’s distance. “I’m sorry to communicate with you this way, but I really have no other choice.” The little spider covered its face with two front legs, pleading cowardly. “…Hi there. The money is for you. Could you please not destroy the web I weave anymore?” It added, trembling: “Also… also, please don’t poke my butt anymore. I’m scared!” “I know living in a human’s house means paying rent. I will work hard to earn money and pay my share.” Actually, the spider didn’t cover its face completely; it peeked out with a sliver of its eyes. I looked down, staring at it. After a long while. I squeezed out a sentence. “Wait a minute… you look kind of familiar.” My gaze uncontrollably landed on the spider’s fuzzy, oval, solid butt. I’ve seen it somewhere. I suddenly recalled, realizing with a start. “You’re that spider on the balcony corner who weaves webs meticulously but makes them look terrible!” The little spider stiffened. The fear of being molested returned. It ran away crying, “Pervert—” 3 The little spider arrived a week ago. When I found it, it was struggling to pull back the web it had just woven, like a human rushing to take clothes off the line when it rains. I didn’t notice it at the time and almost slapped it into the afterlife. Of course. I’m not a pervert. I was just spacing out after watering the plants on the balcony, and then I saw the fuzzy little spider weaving silently in the corner. Its butt was too distracting; the spinnerets at the back moved so fast. Like I was possessed. I found a disposable glove and poked it. Unlike other ordinary house spiders, this one was deep black with a purple hue, had faint stripes on the edge of its abdomen, and was extra fuzzy. Spiders that appear in homes are generally non-venomous, or if they are, it’s very weak. So I wasn’t afraid of getting bitten. The fuzzy spider butt was indeed plump and solid. I stared at my fingertip, unable to resist rubbing it. “Just as I thought, heavy, a bit soft, feels great.” “…Truly the kitten of the spider world.” The little spider probably experienced this for the first time. It turned around stiffly, looking like it was about to fight me for touching it again. “Uh, sorry?” Just now, did it glare at me? “…” The spider walked away, moving its legs in a clumsy, synchronized panic, swallowing its anger. 4 We lived in peace for a week. Occasionally, I’d get curious and poke a hole in its web, and the little spider wouldn’t get mad. It would just wait for me to leave, then silently wiggle its butt to repair the web. “Ew… so sticky.” The little spider blinked its oOOo dorky eyes and turned around at the sound. Its gaze landed on my fingertip, where there was… a piece of the web it had just woven, now broken. I did it again. I withdrew my hand sheepishly, a bit embarrassed. The spider didn’t run away. Instead, it frantically stuck its butt out at me, waving its little legs. I hesitated. “Do you want me to touch it? Okay.” So I reached out. “!!” The little spider covered its butt in horror and zoomed away. I thought it wanted me to touch it. But looking back, that wasn’t the case. I waved my hands frantically, “I’m not a pervert.” The honest little spider cried and accused me. It hid far away from me, sobbing quietly. “Don’t say that word.” It seemed even less able to handle the word ‘pervert’ than I was, breaking down: “You touched me… and you say you’re not a pervert!” “I clearly warned you.” I was confused, “Did you?” The spider was exasperated by my cluelessness. It tapped out from the corner and repeated its previous action. “Are you blind?” The spider choked back tears, “This is my attack stance. I was warning you.” “When spiders are scared, they stick their butts up to look bigger and scare off enemies.” “But… but you didn’t say a word and just touched me!” “And you destroyed my web. I can’t even get full.” “If this goes on, I might starve to death.” The spider whimpered, totally breaking down. Turns out I misunderstood. I thought the spider was offering its butt for me to poke. “Sorry, I didn’t know.” I apologized honestly to the spider, promising not to break its hard-woven web again, and promised compensation. The spider sniffled, asking in a hoarse voice: “Really?” I hummed a yes. “Next time I’ll use the electric fly swatter to zap some mosquitoes for you, throw them on your web, give you a deluxe feast.” The spider wiped its tears while choking up. Then it said I was a good person. “Turns out prison isn’t that hard to endure. You’re not at all as scary as the Warden said.” Me: “?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389399”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My annual income is $1.5 million. My salary account, my secondary credit card, every investment portfolio—it all sat with my mother. She insisted she was handling my finances. I believed her. Until my wife’s water broke. When I called my mother for the cash, she told me, “The account is empty.” I hung up, and that same night, I called the bank’s customer service line. “Hello, I need to place a hold on every bank card in my name.” By early morning, my mother had called me thirty-seven times, a frenzy of pure panic. 01 The cell phone in my pocket vibrated like a grenade about to detonate. I was staring at a dense wall of code on my monitor, my fingers a blur on the keyboard. Then the name “Harper” popped up on the screen, and my heart seized up. I swiped to answer. Harper’s voice came through, tight, laced with suppressed pain. “Gavin, I think… my water just broke.” Voom. The tightrope I’d been walking in my mind snapped. “Don’t panic. I’m coming home now!” I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair and burst out of the conference room, ignoring the project manager’s astonished shouts behind me. I drove like a maniac, speeding all the way home. I collected Harper, who already had the hospital bag ready, along with her parents, the Petersons, and raced to St. Jude’s Women’s Center. The hospital hallway was saturated with the cold, acrid smell of antiseptic. Harper was on a rolling gurney. Her face was pale, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. She gripped my hand so tightly her knuckles were white. “I’m here. Just breathe.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead, my own voice trembling despite my effort to keep it steady. The doctor calmly outlined the procedure. A nurse hurried over with a clipboard. “Family, please take care of the admission process. We need a hundred thousand dollar deposit.” “Understood. Right away.” I gave Harper’s hand a reassuring squeeze and walked toward the payment counter. I pulled out my phone and dialed the number I knew by heart. It rang for an agonizingly long time before it was picked up. “Hello? What do you want?” My mother, Joyce Stone, sounded sharply annoyed, her voice muffled by the sound of a loud, trashy reality TV show playing in the background. “Mom, Harper’s in labor. We’re at the hospital. Can you transfer a hundred thousand to my card? I need to pay the deposit.” I tried to keep the heat out of my voice. “In labor? Already?” She paused, the TV noise momentarily dipping, then she spoke with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Oh, I’m busy right now, honey. I can’t leave.” “You don’t have to come. Just transfer the money.” “The money?” Her voice went up an octave. “What money? The accounts are dry.” I thought I’d misheard her. “What do you mean, dry? What about the salary I wire every month? What about the investment accounts?” “Oh, those.” She said it as if discussing the weather. “Well, your brother, Trevor, saw a new BMW X5 he liked a while ago, so I got it for him. Then he said he was getting into a partnership for some new venture, so I gave him the rest to invest. A man has to have his own business, you know.” Her tone was utterly, sickeningly rational. Through the receiver, I could clearly hear Trevor’s loud, spoiled laugh. “Mom, stop talking to him. Focus! My turn!” That laugh felt like a poisoned needle plunging into my eardrum. 1.5 million a year. Five years of non-stop work. That was 7.5 million. Now, my wife was on a gurney waiting for the cash we needed for her delivery, and my own mother was telling me she’d given the entire fortune to my useless younger brother for a luxury SUV and some vague, bogus investments. Blood rushed to my head, then immediately drained away, freezing my entire system. I said nothing. I couldn’t form a single word. I just disconnected the call. The world went silent. I turned back and saw the Petersons standing anxiously near the door. The worry and genuine care in their eyes felt like a stinging slap across my face. I, the son-in-law who earned a staggering salary, couldn’t even cover my own wife’s hospital admission fee. A monstrous mix of shame and white-hot fury clenched my heart. I took a deep breath, the antiseptic scent sharper than ever. I walked to the end of the hall where a window was open. The night air rushed in, chilling me to the bone. Without a second thought, I started dialing the customer service numbers for every single bank account in my name. “Hello, I need to report all my cards as stolen.” “Yes. Every checking, savings, and credit card, including the secondary cards.” “That’s right. All of them.” “Please mail the replacement cards to my office address, and hold them for pickup only.” My voice was unnaturally calm, a cold, robotic tone I barely recognized. I hung up the last call and walked back to the payment desk. Mr. Peterson was already there, handing his own bank card to the cashier. “Gavin, don’t worry about the money,” he said, patting my shoulder, his voice steady. “We have some retirement funds. We’ll cover it. Harper and the baby are what matters.” I looked at the silver in his hair, and my eyes burned. I nodded heavily, pushing the crushing guilt and the towering hatred back down into the deepest part of my gut. Joyce. Trevor. You forced my hand. 02 I sat on the hard bench outside the delivery room all night. Starting at five in the morning, my phone went into crisis mode. The name “Mom” flashed on the screen, over and over—one time, ten times, thirty times… I didn’t answer. I hit the silent button and let it vibrate, a desperate, muted struggle in my palm, like a creature whose neck had been snapped. The entire world was quiet. All I could hear was the frantic drumming of my own heart and the distant, occasional cry of an infant. Harper had been inside for four hours. Every minute felt like an hour in a fryer. Finally, the calls stopped. In their place came a string of red exclamation points in our family chat, a cascade of furious texts. “Gavin Stone, you ungrateful snake! You think you’re too big for me now? You dare ignore my calls?” “What did you do to the cards? Why can’t I take money out?” “Your brother had an important dinner today and the credit card was declined! He was mortified! What are you trying to pull?” “I’m warning you, if you don’t come explain yourself, you and I are done!” The voice messages were shrill, curses that seemed to scratch the screen. Then came the inevitable message from my dear brother, Trevor. “Dude, what the hell? My secondary card is frozen? Did you move the money? I was hosting clients! You made me look like an absolute idiot!” His texts were full of self-righteous entitlement, as if freezing his account was a criminal offense on my part. I looked at the messages and a cold, tight smirk pulled at my lips. Mortified? When my wife was in the delivery room, fighting for her life, and I couldn’t pay the bill, who saved me from being mortified? I could almost see it: Joyce realizing all the cards were dead, throwing a fit in the bank lobby, and eventually being dragged out by security like a sack of trash. It would have been… magnificent. My phone buzzed again—Joyce’s final ultimatum. “Gavin, I don’t care where you are or what you’re doing. Get your butt home and explain this! Or you can forget you ever had a mother!” The irony was overwhelming. This mother? I was already forgetting. I dimmed the screen and slipped the phone back into my pocket. Just then, a loud, clear “WAAAH!” erupted from the delivery room. The door opened. A nurse emerged, smiling, holding a tightly swaddled baby. “Congratulations! It’s a healthy baby boy. Mother and son are doing well!” In that moment, the entire night’s anxiety, rage, and coldness melted away. I rushed over, looked at that wrinkled little face, and my heart filled with an unbearable, soft warmth. The knot in my chest finally unraveled. My son. My wife. From this day forward, this was my only family. 03 Harper was moved to a VIP suite. The Petersons bustled around, their faces shining with uncontained joy. I held Harper’s hand, watching her weak but satisfied smile, and looked at our son sleeping peacefully in the bassinet beside her. The world felt quiet and perfectly complete. The tranquility lasted exactly two hours. The door to the suite was violently shoved open with a jarring BANG. Joyce and Trevor stormed in, their faces contorted with rage. “Gavin!” Joyce’s voice was a shriek that threatened to lift the roof. She crossed the room in three strides, her finger jabbing the air inches from my nose. “You ungrateful bastard! You think you’re so smart now? Who gave you the right to freeze the bank cards?” Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair a mess. She looked like a woman who hadn’t slept, a complete madwoman. I frowned, stood up, and placed myself between her and Harper’s bed. “Mom, this is a hospital. Harper just gave birth and needs rest. Please leave.” My voice was flat and icy. “I leave? Why should I leave? I raised you with my own two hands, and now you marry a wife and forget your mother! I’m not done with you, and you’re already trying to kick me out?” She put her hands on her hips, ready for a brawl. Trevor immediately chimed in. “Seriously, bro, this is low! Mom has been frantic looking for you! And you’re hiding out here with… with them!” “Them?” I slowly repeated the word, my gaze sharp as a razor. The Petersons stepped forward. Mrs. Peterson stood beside Harper’s bed and addressed Joyce. “Joyce, please, calm down. Harper just had surgery; she’s fragile. She shouldn’t be upset.” “You stay out of this!” Joyce completely dismissed her. “This has nothing to do with you! This is our family business! It’s your daughter, that… that gold-digger, who’s corrupted my son!” She moved to shove Mrs. Peterson aside. I grabbed her wrist, my grip firm. “Enough.” My voice wasn’t loud, but the entire room fell instantly silent. Joyce flinched, shocked by the sudden hardness in my eyes, but quickly recovered, launching into her classic dramatic routine. She collapsed onto the floor, began to wail, and pounded her thigh. “Oh, what sin did I commit! To raise a son who just turns into a tool for someone else’s family! I fed him, I clothed him, I put him through college! Now he’s successful, makes millions, and he won’t recognize his own mother! My life is so hard…” Her hysterics drew curious onlookers into the doorway. I watched her performance in silence, my face blank. When her sobs began to quiet, I finally spoke, every word slow and distinct, carrying clearly to every person present. “I make a million and a half dollars a year. Since I was promoted to Technical Director five years ago, my paycheck has been deposited into your accounts, untouched.” “Five years. No more, no less. Seven and a half million dollars.” “Where is it?” I posed the question with the same casual tone one might use to ask about the time. Joyce’s wailing choked off immediately. She lifted her head, and for the first time, her eyes held genuine panic and evasion. The hospital suite was utterly silent. She opened her mouth, but not a single sound came out. $7.5 million. The number was a mountain, crushing the air out of her lungs and clogging her throat. Her theatrics, her curses, her feigned distress—they all collapsed into a ridiculous, pathetic farce in the face of that cold, indisputable figure. 04 “The money… the money?” Joyce repeated my words, stammering, her eyes darting around like a broken record player. Her mind was racing, trying to conjure a plausible lie. But before she could speak, Trevor sprang up like a cornered animal. “It’s spent, obviously!” He jutted out his chin, adopting a self-assured sneer. “Wasn’t I supposed to have startup capital for my business? Is buying a BMW X5 for transport and networking too much to ask? Besides, family expenses, holiday gifts, all the favors—that takes money, right?” He spoke with an arrogant air, proudly flashing the brand-new gold watch on his wrist—a watch he’d charged to my secondary card just last month. “Oh, and by the way, I bought my girlfriend a Hermès bag for her birthday. That’s for networking, too!” Every word he spoke was like a dull blade, scraping at my very core. From the bed, Harper, who had been silently watching, finally spoke, her voice clear and chilling.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389415”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 On the night the real heiress came back to the Gould family, my own brother drove me to an orphanage and abandoned me. My once comfortable life was torn apart in a day. At the orphanage, bullies made me their target — sometimes nearly drowning me in a drain, other times whipping my back until I couldn’t get up. I begged the warden for help, but he just sneered, “If you weren’t so vicious, your family wouldn’t have thrown you out. You deserved it.” His silence encouraged them. On Christmas Eve, they stripped me and threw me into the snow. I was found stiff and rushed to the hospital. Through the haze, I heard the warden’s cynical laugh: “The Goulds tossed out their own daughter to protect their adopted one — they’re even paying extra to ‘break her.’” He added, “They treat that new girl, Lila, like a queen. I doubt Mr. Gould will even come to see her.” So it was all a game — orchestrated by my brother, Adrian, for Lila. Clutching my bone cancer diagnosis, I laughed through my tears. Soon, Lila really would be his only sister. … The doctor stood before me, his expression grave, sighing repeatedly. “It’s highly unusual for someone your age to develop this, but it was likely aggravated by the repeated, untreated fractures in your leg…” He sat down, patiently explaining the treatment options. But my hearing had been damaged from the constant beatings, a recurring deafness that muffled his voice into a dull drone. I only caught the last sentence. “If we start treatment immediately, we can extend your life by a few years. You should discuss the options with your family.” Family? After six years as an orphan, the word still felt foreign, jarring. I shook my head, a tearful smile on my lips. “I don’t have a family.” The doctor’s pen froze mid-sentence. His eyes scanned the map of scars and bruises covering my body, his voice softening with concern. “Listen, kid, fights with family are one thing, but running away is another. The world out there is a cruel place. It’ll eat you alive.” He offered a reassuring look. “Your brother will be here soon. Just talk it out with him.” I lowered my head, silent. My home was once my sanctuary, the warmest place in the world. But the moment Adrian cast me aside for Lila, that home vanished. He wasn’t coming to save me. He wouldn’t care. I stared blankly at the ceiling tiles, and as I tried to shift my weight, the door flew open. “Aria? Are you serious right now? Your phone goes unanswered, so you pull a stunt like this just to get my attention?” The familiar sound of Adrian’s voice sent a jolt through me. So all those times I’d been tortured to the brink of death, when I’d desperately called him, begging for a way out… he knew it was me. He just chose not to answer. A hopeless laugh escaped my lips. I looked up, my bloodshot eyes meeting his. My voice was raw as I bit out the words. “So you’ve just been ignoring me? Is that how much you despise me? How much you can’t stand having me as your sister?” Adrian’s pupils contracted. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, the rims of his eyes turning red. The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air between us. Finally, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He looked down, his voice low. “I did it to give Lila a happy childhood. You had everything. Her mother died protecting our parents.” His voice grew firmer, defensive. “Taking care of her was a promise I made. You were always so aggressive, always bullying her. I had no other choice.” I nodded, a bitter smile spreading across my face as a million tiny needles of pain pierced my heart. Give her a happy childhood? And what about me? Did I deserve to be abandoned in an orphanage? To be tormented until I wished for death? To get bone cancer? I fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. “And Mom and Dad?” His expression was cool, unreadable. “It was a family decision. We were planning to bring you home, once Lila felt more settled.” I thought I was prepared for it, but hearing the words from his own mouth was like a sledgehammer to the chest. The whole family knew. All of them. They had calmly and deliberately sacrificed me for the sake of their housekeeper’s daughter. The dam broke. Tears streamed down my face. I would rather have been the fake heiress. I would rather have frozen to death in the snow that night. Anything would have been less painful than this. Seeing my tears, a flicker of pity crossed Adrian’s face. He sighed, offering a concession. “If you promise to control your temper, to stop being so aggressive and leave Lila alone, I’ll bring you home tomorrow.” He paused. “Not tonight. Tonight is Christmas Eve, and it’s her birthday. Mom, Dad, and I promised we’d spend it alone with her.” My throat was dry. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. A self-mocking smirk twisted my lips. “I’m sick,” I said, my voice flat. “Bone cancer. I need to stay here for treatment. Just pay the bills. I won’t go home. I won’t bother your precious Lila.” The words had barely left my mouth when his voice exploded in a furious, restrained roar. “What is wrong with you, Aria? What’s with the attitude?” “You find out you’re the real daughter and suddenly you think you can pull whatever manipulative crap you want? You’d even lie about having cancer just to guilt me into taking you home?” I stared at him in disbelief, pointing a trembling finger at the doctor. “I’m not lying! Ask him!” The doctor stepped forward, ready to explain, but Adrian cut him off, his patience shattered. He kicked the side of my bed with a loud thud. “Enough! You haven’t changed a bit after all these years! Now you’re even getting doctors to lie for you!” He turned to leave, his voice filled with disgust. “I never should have wasted my time coming here.” The door slammed shut, plunging the room into a deafening silence. My heart plummeted, my gaze fixed on the empty doorway. The doctor was stunned. “But… isn’t he Adrian Gould? The man who’s famous for doting on his sister? Is he really your brother?” I nodded, then slowly shook my head. He was famous for doting on his sister. But that sister was no longer me. It was Lila. She was our housekeeper’s daughter, and we grew up together. I shared everything I had with her, treating her like she was my own blood. But as we got older, it was never enough for her. She started telling lies to our parents. She claimed I led a group of bullies to torment her at school, calling her a country bumpkin. She said I stripped her clothes off in front of everyone, shouting that poor people didn’t deserve to wear nice things. My parents, who had always seen me as their perfect daughter, began to look at me with growing disappointment. My brother’s frustration turned to rage, and his hand often found my cheek. My own family started to look at me like I was a monster. Then, our housekeeper died in a car crash while shielding my parents. Shortly after, Adrian found an audio recording. That night, he took nine-year-old me to the orphanage. “There was a switch at birth,” he’d told me, his voice cold. “Lila is their real daughter. My real sister. You stole her life!” My world crumbled in that instant, but I had no choice but to accept it. That’s why, even when I was suffering in the orphanage, I never hated them for sending me away. They had loved me once, treasured me. I thought they were just getting justice for their real daughter. But now, knowing the truth… it was all a pathetic joke. As I recounted the story, tears began to fall again. The doctor’s brow was furrowed with pity, unsure of how to comfort me. I forced a smile. Just as I was about to say, “It’s okay,” the door burst open. A group of security guards stormed in. Two of them grabbed me, binding my arms, and dragged me out of the hospital. “Mr. Gould’s orders!” one of them announced. “You’re wasting resources faking an illness. Any doctor who conspires with you will have their career terminated!” The kind doctor tried to intervene, pleading my case, but Adrian’s influence was absolute. The guards were just doing their job. They threw me onto the cold pavement of the street. The impact sent a searing, grinding pain through every bone in my body. I lay on the ground, convulsing. The doctor, his heart aching for me, took off his own winter coat and draped it over my thin hospital gown. “I have a family to support, kid. I can’t lose my job. I’m sorry I can’t do more, but this might help with the pain.” He shoved a bottle of painkillers into my hand before the guards shooed him away. I fumbled with the bottle, dry-swallowing a handful of pills. After a few minutes, the shaking subsided. I staggered to my feet, looking around at the bustling street. Dusk was falling. People were rushing home for Christmas Eve, their faces glowing with happiness. And then there was me. A ghost wandering the streets with nowhere to go. I sniffled, pulling the coat tighter, but the wind still bit through to my bones. I found a sheltered alcove by a building and huddled down, trying to conserve warmth. As I crouched there, my eyes fell on a high-end restaurant across the street. And in the window, a familiar family of four. A three-tiered cake sat on their table. Lila, wearing a birthday crown, sat in the middle, her eyes closed as she made a wish. My father leaned over and fastened a necklace with a large pink gemstone around her neck. My mother was busy snapping photos. And Adrian stood ready with a confetti cannon. The moment she blew out the candles, they all cheered, wishing her a happy birthday. Surrounded by their love, Lila looked like a true princess. For a second, I thought I saw her glance my way, a triumphant, mocking smile on her face. But I dismissed it. My stomach was cramping from two days without food. The hunger was unbearable. I closed my eyes, trying to will myself to sleep. Maybe if I slept, the pain would go away. Just as I was drifting off, a splash of ice-cold water shocked me awake. I gasped, shivering violently. Lila stood over me, a cruel smirk on her face. “It really is you,” she sneered. “I had them make your life a living hell, and you’re still not dead? You’re tougher than a cockroach.” My heart seized. So it was true. She was behind everything at the orphanage. She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m the Gould heiress now. And you? You’re nothing but trash on the street.” She was right. What could I do? No one would believe me. No one would take my side. The pain in my bones was a deep, insistent throb. I had no energy left to fight. It didn’t matter anymore. I could be dead at any moment. If I just stayed quiet, maybe she would leave me alone to get through the night. But seeing me so passive, so unlike the fighter I used to be, seemed to bother her. She knelt in front of me, her brow furrowed. “What’s this? Trying to look pathetic? Hoping Mom and Dad will see you and feel sorry enough to take you home?” A cold laugh escaped her lips, the dimples in her cheeks deepening as her voice turned venomous. “Let’s just see who they feel sorry for.” Before I could react, her hand shot out. There was a glint of metal. She plunged the knife deep into my thigh. A scream tore from my throat as a blinding, all-consuming pain nearly made me pass out. My body’s instinct was to push her away, but before my hands even reached her, she threw herself backward, tumbling down the short flight of steps behind her. “Ahh! Dad! Mom! Adrian, it hurts!” she shrieked, her delicate cries easily overpowering my pained gasps. Through a blur of agony, I saw the three of them in the restaurant window turn their heads in an instant. They scrambled from their table and ran across the street. Adrian reached her first, scooping her into his arms, his face a mask of panic as he asked what happened. My parents were right behind, fussing over her, checking for injuries while dialing for an ambulance. Cradled in Adrian’s arms, Lila’s face was streaked with tears. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “I… I thought I saw someone who looked like Aria, so I came out… I wanted her to celebrate with me, but then…” Following her gaze, the three of them finally looked up and saw me, a crumpled heap in the darkness. My parents froze, their eyes filled with a storm of unreadable emotions. Adrian’s gaze, which had been full of adoration for Lila, turned on me, sharp and filled with visceral hatred. I stared back at the three people who once cherished me more than anything, who now looked at me as if I were their mortal enemy. The physical agony ignited years of buried grief. I held up a hand, trying to explain, a desperate sliver of hope still flickering within me. “I didn’t do anything to her. She’s the one who hurt me! Please… just believe me this once…” My words were cut short by the sharp crack of Adrian’s hand across my face. “Aria! You followed us here, lured Lila out, and attacked her on her birthday, and now you have the gall to blame her for it?” My father’s face was dark with rage, his eyes holding nothing but profound disappointment. “Will you not stop until Lila is dead? After all these years, lying is still the only thing you’ve learned!” My hand trembled as I touched my stinging cheek. The pain was excruciating. But all I could do was laugh, a wild, broken sound. It was always like this. My own parents. My own brother. They couldn’t see my emaciated frame. They couldn’t see the blood soaking through my pants. All they saw was Lila, their perfect, blameless angel. I should have known better than to hope. I dropped my head, my voice numb as I spoke to Adrian. “If I don’t make it through the night, will you come get my body?” He let out a short, contemptuous laugh, his eyes filled with scorn. “That would be for the best. Then we’d never have to worry about you hurting Lila again.” His absolute indifference hollowed out the last part of my soul. Suddenly, death didn’t seem so terrifying. “Promise me you will,” I whispered. So I don’t scare anyone else. He didn’t spare me another glance. The ambulance had arrived, and he was busy helping place a weeping Lila onto the stretcher. As she was being loaded in, my mother cast a worried look in my direction. “Adrian, something’s wrong with Aria. Don’t you think… don’t you think we’ve been too hard on her?” My brother snorted. “It’s all an act. How could we be too hard on her? A lesson like this is too light for what she deserves.” The ambulance pulled away, leaving me alone on the street like a piece of garbage. My head grew heavy. As fireworks celebrating the new year painted the sky, the world went dark… The news broke early the next morning. [At dawn on New Year’s Day, sanitation workers on Prosperity Avenue discovered the frozen body of a young woman. The deceased has been identified as a resident from the local orphanage, Aria Gould!]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389433”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Two months after breaking up with Carter, he brought his new girlfriend to the convenience store where I worked to buy ultra-thin condoms. While browsing, he deliberately asked the girl clinging to his arm: “So many options. Which one do you think feels the best? Give me a recommendation.” The girl blushed, looking at the shelf for a long time, unable to speak. He laughed. “My bad, I almost forgot. When I was with you, I never used them, so you wouldn’t know.” I lowered my head and wiped the counter, saying nothing. The man chuckled lightly, looking at me with a playful, mocking gaze. “Since you work here, why don’t you recommend one?” Chapter 1 I zoned out for a second. After realizing what he was saying, I grabbed a box from the shelf. “This brand has great lubrication, is very friendly for women, and is thin enough that you barely feel it. You can give it a try.” Carter’s smile faded slightly. “You seem very experienced.” I replied flatly, “It’s part of the job.” He pinched the packaging, his tone suggestive. “Is this the one you use with your boyfriend?” The woman beside him burst out laughing. “Look at her clothes. Fast fashion trash. Her whole outfit probably costs less than twenty bucks.” “That brand of rubbers is the most expensive one here. How could she and her broke boyfriend afford it? They probably use the cheap stuff that breaks easily.” Carter stared at my face, seemingly waiting for me to look embarrassed or ashamed. I didn’t give him the satisfaction. I just kept smiling. “Rest assured, sir. I’ve personally quality-checked every brand here. They are all excellent. You can buy with confidence.” Carter’s hand froze, and his face visibly darkened. He scoffed. “Fine. We’ll use your recommendation. If it’s no good, I’m coming back for you.” He bought a box and walked out with the woman on his arm. After that day? Maybe that brand really was that good. For a solid week, he brought his girlfriend to my counter every single day to buy that specific 0.01 ultra-thin box. Even my manager couldn’t help but gossip. “First time I’ve seen something like this. One box a day, and there are five in a pack? That guy has some serious stamina.” “Rich people really know how to play. Must be nice to have that kind of energy.” “By the way, did you see his car? A Rolls-Royce Phantom. There are only a few in the state. That thing costs half a million just to drive off the lot.” “This neighborhood really is full of hidden dragons and tigers.” “His girlfriend is so lucky. Dressed in designer labels from head to toe. One of her accessories is worth half a lifetime of my wages. She’s not nearly as pretty as you, Hailey, but she sure has better luck.” “Speaking of which… she looks familiar.” “I think I saw her in your graduation photos…” I paused, remaining silent. The manager nudged my arm curiously. “Hailey, don’t tell me she was your college classmate?” “How did they get together? She’s one of us, right? Come on, spill the tea.” I didn’t take the bait. I just looked down and said, “There’s no tea to spill.” “Manager, can I take some time off in the next two days for a checkup?” The manager blinked. “Sure, go ahead. Is the baby’s father going with you this time?” I shook my head. “No, I’ll go alone.” The manager sighed. “You go alone every time. Who is this guy anyway? So irresponsible.” I pursed my lips and said nothing. Chapter 2 Actually, the story is pretty cliché. The girl beside Carter was my college roommate, Bianca. Senior year, without my knowledge, she used my photos to catfish Carter online. Everyone knew she had snagged a super-rich boyfriend online. After all, she bragged about it in the dorm every day. She would complain to me, “My boyfriend Venmo’d me money again. It’s so annoying, I haven’t even finished spending the last transfer.” “He’s always like this. People might think I’m a gold digger.” When I ignored her, she’d cover her mouth in mock surprise and lean in. “Oh, I forgot you’re still on financial aid. My boyfriend is rich and spoils me. You’re not jealous, are you?” After starting the online relationship, she replaced everything she owned with designer brands. Any random meal she ate cost nearly a grand. Her online boyfriend seemed to have severe insomnia and was incredibly clingy. Every night, Bianca would put on a fake, baby-doll voice and talk to him until late. I was a light sleeper. I relied on melatonin to get any rest, only to be jolted awake by her sudden laughter. I wanted to tell her to shut up so many times. But I didn’t have living expenses. I had early shifts at my part-time job, and I was exhausted. I didn’t have the energy to argue. My parents were divorced. Both had new families. They stopped caring about me years ago. I paid my own tuition. At night, I was sleep-deprived. In the morning, I had to work. Plus the heavy course load. Sometimes, I was so tired I felt like ending it all. Even though I tried to be quiet in the mornings, Bianca would rip off her covers and scream at me while the other roommates slept. “Getting up before dawn to work? Trying to show off how hardworking you are? Seriously, can you not afford to live?” “If you’re that poor, just drop out. Find an old sugar daddy to take care of you. Is this really necessary?” I was in a rush to get to work and didn’t have time to fight her. I worked at a high-end coffee shop. One day, a handsome guy ordered the most expensive drink on the menu, propped his chin on his hand, and stared at me unblinkingly. He wore a pure black trench coat, his eyes slightly upturned, pupils a beautiful amber color. He looked relaxed and indifferent. He was too striking. He looked better than most celebrities. The moment he walked in, he became the focal point of the cafe. People were secretly taking photos of him. I couldn’t help but steal a few glances too. When I brought him his coffee, he handed me a massive tip, smiled, and said in a lazy voice: “Babe, you’re working so hard.” “Why are you working so early? I transfer you so much money every day, is it not enough? Do you need more?” I froze. “When did you give me money?” He paused too, pulled out his phone, and opened his gallery to show me. It was full of my selfies. “Babe, you have a mole on your earlobe. This is you in the photos, right?” “Why act like strangers after flirting with me all night? You call me ‘Daddy’ every night on the phone.” His smile deepened. “Is this because it’s our first time meeting in person? Are you shy?” I was dumbfounded. “Those are definitely my photos, but… I don’t know who you are.” He was confused too. We put two and two together. We realized Bianca had been using my photos to scam him. When he realized he’d been duped, he was annoyed. But then he extended his hand to me. “Hi, I’m Carter. Would you be willing to try dating me for real?” I hesitated. He smiled charmingly. “Be with me. I can make your life a lot easier.” In that moment, I admit, I was tempted. I was just too tired. Chapter 3 After we got together, Carter was a perfect boyfriend. He recovered all the money Bianca had scammed from him and deposited it into my account. Before graduation, he showered me with gifts and surprises. After graduation, he broke protocol to get me into his company, mentoring me personally on projects. He gave me a resume that most people my age could only dream of. By day, we were boss and subordinate. By night, we were lovers—living together, holding each other. He had incredible stamina, leaving me dazed every time. In those moments, he loved to bite the mole on my earlobe, kiss my eyes, and bury his face in my neck, panting when it was over. Because I had a condition making it hard to conceive, and Carter liked the sensation, he never used protection. In the heat of the moment, he would whisper: “Babe, give me a child, okay? I only want one with you.” “Your kid would definitely be as obedient as you.” I held him, believing it was true. I thought we would be like this forever. Until that day. I found out he had a fiancée. I went to the hospital for a checkup and unexpectedly found out I was pregnant. Panicked but happy, I rushed to Carter’s office with the report. My hand just touched the doorknob. I heard voices inside. “So, you haven’t told Hailey about your fiancée?” I froze. I pressed my ear gently against the door. I heard Carter speak calmly: “I don’t like my fiancée anyway. Besides, it’s just a business marriage arranged by the elders.” His friend asked, “Haven’t you thought about fighting it?” Carter laughed, his tone careless. “Is it necessary?” “Marrying within your social class is the natural order of things. You don’t actually think I’d end up with a charity case like Hailey, do you? It’s just for fun.” “Besides, I don’t want to settle down yet.” “I have an agreement with my fiancée. Before the wedding, we play our own games. As long as no kids are involved, anything goes.” “Hailey is obedient. She’s sensible, and she makes me feel bad for her. I don’t mind keeping the act going.” His friend joked, “You used to change girlfriends every week. This is the first time I’ve seen you take a relationship so seriously. I thought you’d changed.” “But I get it. Hailey has that innocent look. If it were me, I’d want to keep her around and pamper her too.” “But with how wild you guys are, aren’t you afraid of getting her pregnant?” Carter laughed. “What’s there to be afraid of? If she gets pregnant, I’ll just pay for the abortion and give her some cash to break up.” “Poor people like that are easy to deal with. They’re shortsighted. Throw some money at them and they won’t cause trouble.” In that moment, a buzzing noise filled my head. I almost fell over. I looked down at the pregnancy report in my hand. It felt like someone had slapped me across the face. My cheeks burned. My hand on the doorknob slowly dropped. That night, I didn’t go home. I hid in a hotel and cried alone for a long time. I realized I must have hopelessly fallen in love with him. Otherwise, why would it hurt this much? I loved him, but I hated him too. I thought, why? Why does he hold all the power in this relationship? Why can he pick me up and put me down so easily? Why can he do this, but I can’t? Instead of waiting for Carter to dump me, I decided to dump him. I would end this. So, I staged a cheating scene. When Carter found me at the hotel, I was in a bathrobe, kissing another man. The man was an actor I hired. Lingerie was scattered on the floor, along with torn stockings. The bedsheets were messy, deliberately staged to look explicit. Carter stood at the door, the air around him terrifyingly cold. He gave a smile that looked extremely dangerous. “Explain?” The man I was kissing spoke up first. “Mr. Sterling, we are true love. Just let her go.” “I swear I’ll treat her well.” Carter didn’t even look at him. His peripheral vision swept over the man with undisguised contempt and disgust. “Get out. A piece of trash like you doesn’t get to speak here.” The man’s face turned red. He opened his mouth but didn’t dare argue. I was silent for a moment, then spoke slowly: “It’s what you see. I don’t like you anymore.” “I’ve already submitted my resignation to the company. The money you gave me is all in the account. I haven’t touched a cent.” “Carter, let’s break up.” That night, Carter stood on the balcony and smoked a whole pack of cigarettes. When he left, he said coldly, “As you wish.” After that, I blocked and deleted Carter on everything. After the breakup, I originally wanted to terminate the pregnancy. But the doctor told me my constitution made it hard to conceive. If I terminated it, I might never get pregnant again. She advised me repeatedly to think it over and not be impulsive. I was conflicted. I couldn’t decide. By sheer accident of indecision, the child stayed. Chapter 4 A week later. Carter came to the convenience store alone. I thought he was buying condoms again, so I habitually reached for his usual brand. He didn’t take it. He just looked at me. “Hailey, can we talk?” We went to a nearby five-star restaurant. Carter ordered spicy wings, which I used to love. I said, “I don’t eat spicy food anymore.” Carter smiled. “You used to be addicted to spice. Why the change?” “Accommodating your new boyfriend?” I lowered my eyes and said flatly, “My stomach hasn’t been feeling well lately.” He didn’t comment, just ordered lighter dishes. After the food arrived, Carter asked me: “Do you regret breaking up with me?” “You never lived this kind of hard life when you were with me.” “Is he treating you badly?” I didn’t speak. He smiled. “OK, I get it.” “I was your first love. You were practically a kid when you got with me. No experience, naive. It’s normal not to know when you have it good.” “So some guy whispers sweet nothings and you get tricked away.” “But life isn’t a fairy tale.” “You see it now. Look at how you’re living without me.” “Up at six, home at ten. Two hours of commuting. Crowded subways. Standing all day. Menial work.” “Your roommate is my mistress now, and she’s living great. Fifty thousand a month in allowance. I gave you even more than that.” “That life should belong to you.” “This is the last chance, Hailey. Do you want to get back together?” I was silent. After a long time, I looked up. “Carter, I’m not like you. I take feelings seriously.” Carter sneered. “Oh really? Can’t tell. You like that guy that much?” Just then, I accidentally bit into a piece of fatty meat. The greasy taste hit my throat, making me want to vomit. I covered my mouth, nausea rising. Seeing this, Carter poured me water slowly, half-joking. “Why such a big reaction? Is it morning sickness?” My fingers tightened around the glass. He leaned in. “Looking closely, your belly seems a bit bigger than before.” “Hailey, I never used protection. You didn’t get pregnant behind my back, did you?” In that instant, my body froze. My temples throbbed. But I calmed down quickly. I drank the water slowly. “No.” He stared at me, his eyes unreadable. “Really?” I took a deep breath. “Carter, you’re too full of yourself.” “Besides, even if I were, there is no way I would keep your child.” Carter froze. His face turned ugly instantly. He gritted his teeth. “Fine. You’ve got guts.” “Then let me tell you. Your face is indeed my type. I did fall in love with your photos at first sight.” “But the person who chatted with me was Bianca. The one who kept me company through countless sleepless nights was Bianca.” “The one I really like, truthfully, is her.” With that, he walked away cold-faced. That day, he didn’t buy condoms at the store. I sighed in relief. But around 10 PM, just as I was about to get off work. The manager called me. She said Carter ordered delivery service and requested I personally bring his usual ultra-thins to his door. I hesitated for a long time. “Do I have to go?” The manager was put in a tough spot. “There’s no one else available right now.” I closed my eyes and agreed. I found Carter’s house. When the door opened, I saw Bianca in skimpy lingerie. She wasn’t wearing slippers, barefoot. Seeing the bag in my hand, she laughed. “Carter, if you forgot to buy them, you forgot. Why make her deliver them? You probably knew she had the day off tomorrow. You’re so bad.” Carter leaned against the living room door, smiling wickedly at me, but speaking to her: “How many times have I told you? Don’t run around barefoot.” Bianca whined, “Then put them on for me.” Carter laughed. He carried her to the sofa, knelt down, held her white foot in his large palm, and put socks on for her. I caught a glimpse. Under Bianca’s skirt… she wasn’t wearing anything. I looked away. After putting on the socks, Carter said to her: “Go shower. Clean up and wait for me.” Bianca stuck out her tongue playfully. “Fine, okay.” She turned to go shower. I handed the bag to Carter and turned to leave. Carter grabbed my hand first. “Unblock my number.” I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “Are you sick?” “Carter, we broke up.” He smiled, but his eyes were cold. “Hailey, this isn’t a negotiation.” “You know me. If you don’t listen, I have plenty of ways to ruin you.” I pursed my lips. I knew. He had the power. Eventually, I compromised. I took out my phone and was forced to add him back. He saved my number with satisfaction. “If you have any trouble in the future, call me anytime.” I looked at the joy he couldn’t hide between his brows. I didn’t understand. What is this? A slap in the face followed by a piece of candy? When I went home, it was late. This was a villa district, quiet amidst the city noise. There were no pedestrians on the street, only dim streetlights stretching my shadow long and thin. I walked fast, but my heart pounded. I felt a sticky gaze glued to my back. Was I being followed? Was it an illusion? At the intersection, I stopped and looked back abruptly. In the shadows of the alley stood a middle-aged man with a sleazy face. He was a customer who came to the store often recently, staring at my chest every time he paid. He grinned at me, his eyes scanning my legs. “Little sister, walking alone so late? Are you lonely? Come to my place?” My heart contracted. I ran. I lost a high heel. My ankle hit the stone curb, hurting excruciatingly, but I didn’t dare stop. In desperation, I fumbled for my phone and helplessly dialed Carter’s private number over and over. But it wouldn’t connect. On the fifth try, he finally picked up. I was almost crying. “Carter, someone is following…” Laughter came from the other end. “Hailey, you’re doing this on purpose, right? Calling right when I’m taking care of business.” “Trying to add some spice to my night?” “Sorry, I’m busy right now.” Before I could finish, he hung up. In that moment, my blood ran cold. And in that moment, I made up my mind. I was getting an abortion.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389450”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was on the fast track to becoming the prime-time news anchor. Then, the station airdropped a Stanford journalism grad—a beauty named Chloe Shi. Management issued a challenge: whoever lands the exclusive interview with the elusive billionaire CEO of the Ji Group, Ethan Ji, gets the anchor chair. I thought I had it in the bag. After all, Ethan is my secret husband. But Ethan granted the interview to Chloe and rejected me. When I found out Chloe was his first love, I knew we were done. I voluntarily applied for a transfer to the Donbas region as a war correspondent. In career and love, I had to grasp at least one, right? Ethan, this time, I’m the one walking away. Chapter 1 A gasp rippled through the office. Everyone was gathered around Chloe. The director looked at her with undisguised admiration. “As expected of a high-achiever from Stanford. Congratulations, Chloe. The task was assigned yesterday, and today you’ve secured the exclusive with the CEO of Ji Group.” Ethan Ji never accepted interviews. Everyone in the industry knew this. The Ji Group didn’t need publicity through media interviews; Ethan Ji himself was the best billboard. Chloe smiled, the corners of her mouth lifting. “It’s just part of the job. It’s what I should do.” Colleagues were surprised and delighted that Chloe secured the interview. Since taking over the Ji Group, Ethan had never accepted an interview from any media outlet. My smile was a bit forced. I had been at the City TV station for five years. I was one step away from being promoted to the prime-time news anchor. But yesterday, I was suddenly notified of a new female host joining us. Beautiful, professional, and strong. A master’s degree in journalism from abroad. Her introduction was generous and confident. “Hi everyone, I’m Chloe Shi.” “Although I graduated from Stanford Journalism, I’ve never worked in this industry and lack experience.” “I’ll need everyone’s guidance in the future.” She was polite and unpretentious, winning the favor of many colleagues. But when her eyes met mine… The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, carrying a hint of smugness. The director called both of us into the office and assigned the task. “Sarah,” he said to me. “We hope to get an exclusive interview with Ethan Ji of the Ji Group. So the station is giving you two a test.” “Whoever can secure the exclusive with Ethan Ji will become the prime-time news anchor.” I secretly rejoiced. This shouldn’t be a problem. Because Ethan Ji is my secret husband. Walking out of the office, Chloe extended her hand. “Hi, Sarah.” “You can call me Chloe.” I raised an eyebrow slightly. She actually knew my name. Her arrival was too sudden, as if she came specifically for me. I pressed my lips into a smile. “Hello, I’m Sarah Xu. Just Sarah is fine.” We exchanged contact info. Walking out of the office building side by side, she suddenly spoke. “Sarah.” “Let’s compete fairly.” It was just a hosting slot, yet her eyes were full of ambition. It felt like we were competing for more than just a position. Chapter 2 Last night, Ethan came home from a business dinner. He smelled faintly of alcohol, his face slightly flushed. His tailored shirt outlined his perfect physique, his suit jacket draped over his arm. The light hit his face, highlighting his smooth jawline and high nose bridge under thick brows. He lifted his eyelids to look at me. “Something up?” I blurted out directly, “Will you accept my interview?” He paused slightly, brows furrowing a bit. After a moment of contemplation, he said, “Sarah.” “I don’t accept any interviews, and there are no exceptions.” When the leadership assigned the task, I thought it was a sure thing. Because Ethan is my husband. So when I was rejected by Ethan, I felt a bit embarrassed. I gathered my courage and asked him, “Even if I am your wife, can’t I have a special exception?” Ethan nodded. “Yes. Even if you are my wife.” I said, “Okay, I understand.” Actually, I thought if I couldn’t get it, then Chloe couldn’t get it either. The next day, when the director announced that Chloe had secured the interview with Ethan… I was dazed for a long time, just zoning out. I don’t know how to describe my feelings at that moment. It felt like I lost the whole world in an instant. Until my partner, Mia, comforted me: “Sarah, don’t be sad.” “Just one look and you can tell she has connections. She was airdropped in, it’s not your fault.” My distress was obvious. But I wasn’t just sad because of the failed promotion, but because Ethan didn’t favor me. Knowing that Chloe was Ethan’s first love, I understood. What Chloe wanted to compete with me for wasn’t just the anchor position. It was also Ethan. After she secured the exclusive, she remained modest. After the director left, she suggested, “How about I treat everyone to coffee?” Colleagues were excited. Just securing the interview with Ethan meant the KPIs for various departments were met half a year ahead of schedule. Barring accidents, the year-end bonus would double. So even though I didn’t get the interview, I would still enjoy this bonus. Everyone looked at Chloe like she was a savior. A colleague said, “Chloe, you are amazing.” “Even the Crown Prince of the business world succumbed to you.” Chloe smiled sweetly. “We know each other.” After saying that, she looked at me. Chloe raised an eyebrow slightly, then withdrew her gaze. A seemingly light sentence, but with many hidden implications behind it. It caused a small sensation. “Chloe, you’re so beautiful.” “Could it be you’re the Crown Prince’s girlfriend?” Someone interjected, “That’s not right, I heard the Crown Prince is secretly married.” Chloe’s almond eyes flickered. “Whoever watches the coffee well can have mine.” Chloe didn’t put on airs and quickly integrated with the colleagues. A colleague invited Chloe to dinner after work. Chloe declined. “Thanks, but I have plans tonight.” “Just returned to the country, friends are throwing a welcome dinner for me.” The colleague sighed with regret, then looked surprised. “Alright then. It couldn’t be with Mr. Ji, right?” Chloe blinked and didn’t speak. At the same time, Ethan sent me a message: “Business dinner tonight, will be late.” Although Ethan and I were secretly married, he never had any scandals and respected me. He would report his whereabouts and exchange gifts on anniversaries and birthdays. I had a premonition that the person welcoming Chloe tonight was Ethan. Chapter 3 It’s hard not to be curious about your husband’s first love. Chloe was a classic beauty. She looked unapproachable but was actually proactive and enthusiastic. This contrast made people feel she was nice. Her social media showed another side of her, contrary to her looks. She posted a lot. Simple text complaints, selfies, travel photos. Seeing Ethan’s profile picture in the likes list made my heart tremble slightly. A slight sourness overflowed. No comments, just likes. Besides Ethan, a few of his good friends occasionally liked and commented. From the comments of his friends, I could tell they had a good relationship before. After scrolling through the visible posts from the last six months, I prepared to exit. Chloe updated again. In the photo, there was no Ethan. But the arm in the corner, the person wearing the Rolex Submariner watch… I recognized it instantly. It was Ethan. “Hehe, thanks to my friends for the welcome dinner!” Soon a colleague commented: “Wow, feels like big shots.” Chloe jokingly replied: “Then you are a friend of big shots.” It was strange. In just three days… Chloe’s social circle overlapped halfway with mine. Seeping into every corner of my life. Usually, I would leave a light on when Ethan came home late. Tonight, I stood under the light. Hesitated for a while. Turned the light off. Just as I was falling asleep, I heard the sound of running water in the bathroom. Opening my eyes, Ethan stood by the bed. His voice was pleasant, cool: “Why didn’t you leave a light tonight?” I clicked the bedside lamp off. “Forgot.” He climbed into bed. The faint scent of body wash and hormones lingered around me after his shower. The man’s strong and powerful arms imprisoned me tightly from behind. I froze for a moment, then peeled his fingers open one by one, pushing his hand away. “Ethan, I’m sleepy.” His voice was slightly hoarse: “Okay. You sleep, I’ll hold you.” Chapter 4 Chloe had already permeated my life pervasively. Even if I wanted to avoid her, I couldn’t. Because she was a newcomer, the director asked me to help her. Mia was indignant for me: “Why? Just to pave the way for her?” “She’s impressive, clinging to the Crown Prince.” “She should just go home and be a rich wife, why come out and snatch rice bowls from us common folk?” “You’ve worked conscientiously for the station for so many years, brought in so many sponsorships, what does this count for?” I sighed: “Just my bad luck.” It was indeed bad luck. For the prime-time anchor position, I started from the most basic chores. I suffered a lot. Carrying equipment weighing twenty pounds in the heat, running around construction sites and rice fields. To seek justice for the grassroots people, to demand unpaid wages. I was hit by a brick by a coal boss. My head bled, and I didn’t dare let my family or Ethan know. Denouncing developers in unfinished buildings for buyers, exposing black-hearted entrepreneurs, falling from unfinished buildings. Lying in the ambulance, I cried and begged the doctor to save me. Even delirious from anesthesia, I was still muttering about work. In the end, there are more five years. Seeing Mia filled with righteous indignation, angrier than me. I comforted her instead: “Forget it, forget it. It means this position doesn’t belong to me.” At least, I met a good friend who genuinely cared about me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389466”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After I was the one to break the silence between us, I saw the box of ultra-thins in Alex’s passenger seat. I quietly put them away for him, saying nothing. Alex shot me a complicated look and offered an explanation. “Look again. The whole box is there. We just ran out of the ones at home.” I hummed in acknowledgment, feigning sleep in the uncomfortable seat. He didn’t speak again until he pulled the car over to the side of the road, his voice soft. “Let’s pick up some supplements. We’ll go to your family’s home for New Year’s and visit your mom.” I couldn’t hold back the tears. I turned my back to him. My mother was dead. And he still didn’t know. 1 “Ava? Are you listening to me?” Alex’s voice hardened, a familiar pressure in his tone. My own voice was raspy. “There’s no need.” There’s no need to go back. Not ever again. He misunderstood. He leaned over, trying to see my face. “Are you angry? “Please, just trust me, okay? Here, you can count them if you want.” He opened the box and tipped out all the condoms. His eyes held a look of weary indulgence, as if he were dealing with a petulant child. I wiped my tears and looked over. “I’m really not angry.” Alex leaned in and hugged me, sighing. “You say you’re not angry. “But you’ve been wanting me to go back with you, haven’t you? “It’s New Year’s, and for once, I don’t have any work events. “If we miss this chance, who knows when the next one will be.” His hand gently rubbed my back, just like he always did. But I felt nothing. I numbly pushed him away and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go, then.” The last thing my mother had said was that her son-in-law was too busy with work; she hadn’t even gotten to see him. If Alex had time on New Year’s, it would be good for him to pay his respects. After all, once we were divorced, there would be no reason to ask him to go again. I ordered a lot of things online, mostly offerings for her grave. I was worried about inflation in the afterlife and wanted to make sure she had enough. But on New Year’s Day, Alex didn’t come home. 2 It was as if I’d expected it. I calmly accepted that he might not make the train. I took a taxi to the station by myself. He didn’t call until the train was already pulling away from the platform. “I’m sorry, something came up here. “Can you change your ticket? We could leave tonight instead.” I watched the scenery blur past the window and swallowed my tears. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve already left.” I couldn’t even be bothered to ask why. But he explained anyway. “This time it really isn’t because of Sophie. “A project we already settled had a last-minute issue. I really thought I could make it back in time. “Ava, don’t be like this.” I don’t know what in my calm voice made him think I was being difficult. “I know you’re busy,” I said evenly. “You can come tomorrow.” One more day doesn’t matter. It’s fine. Alex breathed a sigh of relief. “Wait for me, okay? When I get there, I’ll make that lamb stew for your mom. “She always said how much she loved my cooking. It’s been a few years since she’s had it. “This time, I’ll definitely…” “I’m tired. I’m going to get some sleep.” I cut off his happy planning, the tears finally streaming down my face. I wanted to scream. She can’t eat it! Where were you before? But I was just… tired. I didn’t want to fight. We had fought so much that I was exhausted. It made me feel like I had no self-respect, like I was pathetically begging for his attention. It was enough if he just came. If he came and paid his respects, so my mother could see him. That was all I asked. A small return for all the years my mother had practically raised him. A small return for the boy I’d taken in, who had eaten at our table almost every day for over a decade. But I had overestimated him. 3 My uncle’s face fell when he saw I had come home alone again. That evening, my aunt gently prodded. “Are you and Alex fighting? “Your mother sensed something was wrong when she was in the hospital, you know. She just didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to upset you. “You need to rein in that temper of yours. With your parents gone, your husband is all you have to rely on. “The most important thing now is to have a baby.” I listened quietly and told her Alex would be there tomorrow. “His business hasn’t been doing well the last few years, so he has a lot of work events,” I explained. “He wanted to come when Mom was in the hospital, too. Don’t worry, we’re fine.” I didn’t want my family to know I was planning to divorce him. I didn’t have the energy to deal with their attempts to mediate. But I never expected Alex to break his promise again. In the morning, he told me he was on his way to the station. My uncle slaughtered the chicken he’d been raising for a year. My aunt went to the market at dawn. “It’s good he’s coming. He didn’t even show up for your mother’s funeral. The whole village thought he’d abandoned you. “This will shut them up. “You two should come back more often.” My aunt chattered away as she bustled around the kitchen. But after the table was laden with food, Alex didn’t answer any of my calls. “Let’s just eat,” I said, forcing the words out. I looked at my aunt and uncle, my chest tight with guilt. They exchanged a look and nodded. “Yes, yes, let’s eat before it gets cold.” “I’ll go get your cousins to come over. We can’t finish all this food ourselves.” “They can go with you up the mountain later.” My aunt hurried to get more bowls and chopsticks. In the winter air, the food on the table was already lukewarm. I fought back tears, my smile feeling stiff and unnatural. My uncle suddenly sat down beside me and ruffled my hair. “You were always a strong-willed child. You should do what you want to do. “If your father were here, he wouldn’t want to see you this unhappy. “Our home is always your home. You still have family, you know. Don’t listen to your aunt. You should live for yourself.” I managed a watery smile at him and excused myself to the bathroom. I only came out after I had stopped crying. My aunt and uncle were in the kitchen, reheating the dishes. Just then, my phone rang. It was Alex. 4 “She’s in the hospital. In surgery. “It’s life or death, Ava. I can’t just leave her. “Tomorrow. I’ll come tomorrow and pick you all up. “We can bring Mom back to the city with us for a few days.” I listened numbly, a storm of emotion churning inside me. I didn’t want to get angry. My mother always used to say: “Ava, honey, don’t get upset so easily. It’s not worth it. “Just live a quiet, peaceful life. “Turn a blind eye, and the years will pass. “Look at me. I used to have so many complaints about your father, but after he passed, all I can remember are the good things.” But Alex… he was pushing me too far. “You don’t have to come. I have something to discuss with you when I get back.” I hung up before he could reply. He called again. I declined it. Then the texts started. [Stop being unreasonable. Just wait for me.] [If she had anyone else to help her, she wouldn’t have called me.] [She wanted to apologize to you for last time. I’m the one who didn’t let her.] [You know what your temper is like, Ava. I was afraid you’d hit her again.] [Can’t we just live our lives in peace? Why do you have to throw a fit over every little thing?] He sent a flood of messages. I skimmed a few. My cousins had arrived. I turned off my phone and ignored him. The meal was a somber affair. Later, at my mother’s grave, my cousins waited for me at a respectful distance. I sat on the cold ground, staring at her photograph, and the tears started to fall. There was so much I wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come. Just before I left, I finally whispered to her. “I’m sorry. I lost that son-in-law you liked so much. “You won’t blame me, will you, Mom?” A gust of wind rustled the trees, brushing my cheek like a gentle caress. I choked back my tears, turned, and walked down the mountain without looking back. 5 The next day, I took the train back to the city. On the ride, the divorce agreement I’d had my lawyer draft arrived in my email. I reviewed it carefully, requesting a few minor changes. I didn’t ask for the company. I had other plans for that. But I demanded all of our cash assets and real estate. It was an eight-figure sum. I never expected to run into Alex at the train station. We stared at each other. Standing beside him was Sophie, the woman who was supposedly in surgery just yesterday. It clearly hadn’t been a life-or-death operation. She was on her feet, wearing a full face of natural-looking makeup, looking perfectly fine. Sophie’s eyes were red, as if she were on the verge of tears. “Don’t blame him,” she said quickly. “I’m the one who insisted he come and find you. “Of course, I know a wife is more important than a friend. “I only called him because I thought he was free for the holiday. “I didn’t know he was supposed to be visiting your family. He didn’t want to worry me, so he kept it a secret. I’m so, so sorry. “You’re not going to blame him, are you?” Alex snapped out of his shock and instinctively moved to shield Sophie behind him. I had hit her once. Ever since then, he never let me get near her. Now, his voice was low and heavy. “This is my fault. Don’t take it out on her.” Watching them, I was struck by how perfectly they complemented each other. I nodded and looked at Sophie. “Since you’re here, why don’t you both come over?” She looked surprised. Alex frowned. I looked back at Alex, my tone teasing. “What’s the matter? I thought there was nothing between you two. “If you’re just friends, are you scared to bring her home?” I started walking, and they followed. “You don’t have to speak like that,” Alex muttered from behind me. “It’s ugly. “She’s just a young girl. You scared her last time. Of course she doesn’t want to come to our house.” I stopped and looked past him at Sophie. Our eyes met, and a triumphant, challenging smirk played on her lips. “Since your sister invited me, of course I’ll come,” she said sweetly. I turned my gaze back to Alex. “Be a man, Alex. The ‘young girl’ is braver than you are.” 6 As soon as we got home, I went to the study. I printed out the divorce agreement, bound it, and brought it out to the living room, handing it to Alex. “Read this. If there are no issues, sign it. “You can take your things and leave with her today. “My mother invested twenty thousand in your company when you started. I don’t want the shares. “But all our marital assets, the cash and the properties, are mine. Everything except the company.” I said it all in one breath. Alex’s expression shifted from shock to fury. “Are you insane? “Does your mother know about this? “You went through all this just to do this? There’s a limit to these tantrums.” I looked down, my voice flat. “I’ve already informed her. “What mother doesn’t want her child to be happy? “She was good to you because she wanted you to be good to me. No matter how much she liked you, she would never choose you over her own daughter. “So you don’t have to worry about what she thinks.” I glanced at Sophie. She could barely contain her glee, her eyes fixed on Alex, full of victorious certainty. I smiled and continued. “Now that we’ve reached this point, you don’t really think my mother would still be on your side, do you?” Alex grew even angrier. “What else did you tell her? “How many times do I have to say it? Nothing happened between me and Sophie!” I threw the papers at his face. “Does it only count if you sleep with her? “Who did you adjust your passenger seat for? “Our anniversary, my birthday, my mother’s birthday… “Which of those special days this year did you not spend with her? “Are all of her friends and relatives dead? “She needs you, a married man who has nothing to do with her, to sit with her through a minor surgery? “Alex, we’re not idiots. Stop treating me like one.” My voice started out calm, but by the end, it was trembling. But Alex just repeated, his face cold, “I am not getting a divorce!” He added, “Your mom would be heartbroken!” I couldn’t help it. I screamed. “My mother is dead! How could she be heartbroken?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389483”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

“Miss Clarke, the car is waiting.” The black Rolls-Royce Ghost idled silently outside the hospital entrance. The chauffeur, clad in a suit and white gloves, gave me a small, deferential bow. I froze. Miss Clarke. My name is Dr. Samantha Clarke, and I am thirty-two years old. Since the day I was dropped off at the state-run orphanage at the age of eight, I hadn’t heard that formal address from anyone associated with the Caldwells. Twenty-six years. Not a single phone call, not a letter, not a dime. And now, they send a Rolls-Royce? I didn’t move. The chauffeur bowed again. “Grandmamma Eleanor is gravely ill, and she requested you by name.” Grandmamma. My paternal grandmother. I let out a single, humorless laugh. “Fine.” I stepped into the car. “I suppose I’m curious to see how the people who threw me away are doing now.” 1. The Rolls-Royce drove for three hours. We traveled from the steel canyons of Manhattan deep into the isolated, sprawling country estates of Upstate New York. I watched the landscape blur past, a strange calm settling over me. I had expected to feel a surge of nerves, or white-hot rage, or perhaps just crippling uncertainty. But there was nothing. In the past twenty-six years, I had rebuilt myself into an entirely different person. “Dr. Clarke,” the driver’s voice came from the front. “We’re approaching the Caldwell Estate, Stonehaven.” Dr. Clarke. He hadn’t used the formal family address this time. I looked up at him. “You’re the Chief of Service for Neurosurgery at one of the country’s top teaching hospitals,” he said, his tone respectful. “The entire household knows who you are.” I didn’t offer a reply. The car turned onto a long cobblestone drive, bordered by ancient, towering oaks. Then, I saw the house. It was a Gilded Age fortress: gray limestone, vast, imposing. It occupied at least seven acres. An ornate, wrought-iron sign above the gate read: Caldwell. A monument to old money and power. I stepped out of the car and took a deep, unnecessary breath. The imposing front doors swung open, and a crowd spilled out. Leading the charge was a woman in a perfectly tailored silk sheath dress. She was middle-aged, remarkably preserved, with flawless skin and emerald earrings that caught the sun. She saw me, and her eyes instantly welled up. “Sam—” She stretched out her arms and started toward me. I took a deliberate step backward. She stopped dead. “Mrs. Caldwell,” I said, my voice measured. “I believe this is the first time we’ve ever met.” She blinked, her expression cycling through shock and forced composure before settling on a shaky smile. “Sam, I’m your mother.” “I know.” I kept my voice flat. “But I stopped having a mother when I was eight years old.” The air thickened into a heavy silence. The people standing behind her exchanged hurried, hushed glances. Someone muttered: “Is that the girl they sent away?” “What an attitude…” “I heard she grew up in the foster system, how is she so… polished?” I ignored them all. “Where is Grandmamma?” I asked. The woman in the silk dress—my mother, Victoria—wiped a tear that hadn’t quite fallen and managed a brittle smile. “In the main parlor. I’ll take you.” I followed her, moving through a maze of immaculate grounds. The estate was far larger than I had imagined: stone fountains, hedge mazes, covered walkways, and vast perennial gardens. It took five minutes to reach the main parlor. Two figures stood by the door. One was a man in his fifties, silver-haired and impeccably tailored, wearing expensive-looking glasses—my father, Arthur. The other was a woman of about thirty, dressed in a head-to-toe designer suit, her makeup flawless, her posture radiating expensive grace. She smiled as she saw me. “Little sister,” she said. “We finally meet.” I studied her. This was my older sister, Penelope. Penny. Growing up, I only knew her name from the occasional whispers of the orphanage staff. “Your sister lives in a mansion, she takes piano lessons, she goes to private school.” “Your sister is studying abroad in Europe, her tuition is fifty thousand a year.” “Your sister is so talented, if only you were half the girl she is…” I looked at the woman before me now, and felt nothing. No jealousy, no resentment. Just clinical detachment. “Hello,” I said. “Sister, I—” “Call me Miss Clarke,” I cut her off. “Or Dr. Clarke.” Penny’s perfect smile dissolved. My father, Arthur, frowned. “Sam, this is your own sister.” “I know,” I said. “But we aren’t acquainted.” I pushed the door open and walked into the parlor. A frail woman lay on a large, four-poster bed. She was all white hair and sallow skin, with an oxygen tube taped below her nose. She opened her eyes, saw me, and a flicker of light crossed the muddy surface of her gaze. “Sam…” She stretched out a trembling hand. “You came back…” I stood by the bed, my hands by my sides, and did not take hers. “Mrs. Caldwell,” I said. “Why did you summon me?” She flinched. “I… I just wanted to see you…” Her voice was a weak whisper. “These years… I have wronged you…” “I see,” I said. “And?” She opened her mouth, struggling to speak. I watched her, waiting. This woman, twenty-six years ago, made a decision: send me away, and lavish every conceivable resource on my sister. She never visited me when I was eight. She never visited me when I was twelve. She never visited me when I was eighteen. She wasn’t there when I got into medical school. She wasn’t there when I became an Attending Neurosurgeon. Now, she was sick. Dying. And she wanted to see me. “Mrs. Caldwell,” I said. “If this is merely a social call for the sake of an apology, I can leave.” “No—” She struggled to sit up. “Sam, I have something I need to tell you… something you don’t know…” “What is it?” She glanced nervously toward the door, then lowered her voice: “Your sister… she’s not—” The door was suddenly pushed open. My mother, Victoria, walked in, a strained smile plastered to her face. “Mother, the nurses said you need to rest. Sam has traveled far; let’s allow her to get something to eat first.” Grandmamma Eleanor shut her mouth. I looked at the two of them. Fascinating. 2. Dinner was arranged in the main dining hall. A massive long table seated about fifteen people. I was placed at the corner. “This is Miss Clarke’s designated seat,” the butler, Mr. Abernathy, announced. I glanced at “my seat”—it was facing the wall, next to an empty chair. “It’s fine,” I said. “I’m not particular.” The courses arrived: truffle risotto, sea bass, expensive cuts of filet mignon. I ate quietly, keeping my eyes on my plate. “Sam,” my mother’s voice chirped from across the table. “Where are you working now?” I didn’t look up. “The NYU Langone Medical Center.” “Ohhh,” she drawled, a patronizing lilt in her voice. “A state hospital, then.” Someone across the table let out a slight chuckle. “So the little sister is just a staff doctor,” said a cousin named Preston, who looked like he’d inherited more money than sense. He was the eldest son of the main Caldwell branch. “Well, making Attending at a Level I Trauma Center is impressive enough,” another relative chimed in. “But can she compare to Penny? Penny is the Vice President of Caldwell Industries.” “Oh, that’s not comparable, Penny’s been groomed for this since childhood…” Their voices grew louder, as if I were a distant, irrelevant rumor. I set down my fork. “I’m the Chief of Service for Neurosurgery,” I said, my voice cutting cleanly across the chatter. “Last year, I personally headed over two hundred operative procedures, with a success rate of 99.3 percent.” The table fell silent. “Neurosurgery?” Preston blinked. “Isn’t that… brain surgery?” “It is.” “You cut into people’s heads?” “Yes.” They exchanged wide-eyed looks. “Well, still,” Preston mumbled, shrinking slightly. “It’s just a doctor. It’s not like running a multi-billion dollar corporation like Penny.” I didn’t engage. Penny offered a thin, practiced smile. “My sister is truly amazing. If anyone in the family gets sick, we’ll know who to call.” “You may,” I said. “My consultation fee is eight hundred dollars. Surgery is billed separately.” “I’m sorry?” “I am a surgeon,” I said. “Not a free service.” Penny’s smile froze solid on her face. After dinner, I was escorted to a guest room. “This is Miss Clarke’s room,” Mr. Abernathy said. I opened the door and stared. The room was small, perhaps two hundred square feet. A narrow twin bed, a dusty, old armoire, and a small desk. The single window was small, letting in very little light. “This is…” “This was your room, Miss Clarke,” the butler said. “It has been kept empty all these years. We tidied it up this morning.” I walked in, taking in the space. There was a faded square on the wallpaper above the desk. A place where something had been hung for a long time, and then removed. “What was here?” I asked. “A photograph,” the butler replied. “A picture of you as a young child.” “And now?” “Miss Penny instructed us that… it wasn’t necessary to re-hang it.” I gave a small, dry smile. “Understood.” After the butler left, I sat on the edge of the twin bed, my mind drifting. I remembered that day when I was eight. My mother holding my hand as we walked into the state orphanage. “Sam,” she’d knelt down. “You need to be a brave girl. Mommy will come back for you in a few days.” “Mommy, I don’t want to stay here.” “Be good, Sam.” She smoothed my hair. “Your sister is sick and needs Mommy’s full attention. You’ve always been tough; stay here for a few days, and I’ll come get you once I’m done.” “How long is a few days?” “Soon,” she’d promised. “Mommy swears.” Then she turned and walked away. I was eight years old. I stood by the fence all day, waiting for her to come back. She didn’t. The next day, the third day, the seventh day… she never came. A month, six months, a year… she was gone. I don’t know what she was busy doing. I only know I never saw her again. I grew up there. Eating stale, cheap food, wearing clothes from the donation bin, sleeping in a room with seven other kids. On my birthdays, there were no cakes, only the promise of a cheap, leftover cupcake from the kitchen. The staff always told me: “Sam, you must study hard. That’s your only way out.” I asked the main caretaker once, “Auntie, why won’t my mother come back for me?” She was silent for a long time. “Your mother… is very busy.” I nodded. I never asked again. Later, I was accepted to college. Medical school was expensive. I took out every loan available and worked three jobs simultaneously: diner waitress, tutor, hospital orderly. Classes during the day, shifts at night. Weekends were entirely work. Five years. It took me five years to pay off the student loans. Residency, fellowship, Attending Physician, Chief of Service… At thirty-two, I became the youngest woman to be named Chief of Service in Neurosurgery at my hospital. All these years, I thought I had let go. But now, sitting in this small room, staring at the faint, faded square on the wallpaper… I realized some wounds don’t scar over. They just lie dormant. A wry exhale. I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes. It doesn’t matter. I came here for an explanation, not a reunion. I’ll get the information, perform the duty, and then I’m gone. 3. The next morning, a knock on the door. “Dr. Clarke, Grandmamma is asking for you.” I followed Mr. Abernathy to the main parlor. Grandmamma Eleanor looked marginally better today. She was propped up with pillows, a small, worn wooden box on the bedside table. “Sam, sit.” I sat beside her. “All these years…” she sighed, frail and old. “There are things I never told you.” “What things?” She checked the door, confirming we were alone, and lowered her voice again. “We didn’t send you away because your sister was sick.” I felt a faint jolt, but my face remained neutral. “It was because…” she paused. “Your father’s business was facing ruin.” “Financial trouble?” “A total liquidity crisis. We needed a massive amount of cash to save it.” “And?” “And…” she closed her eyes. “Your mother came to me and said we could only afford to raise one child.” Something cold and heavy dropped in my stomach. “She said Penny had a delicate constitution and needed full-time care and nutrition. She said you were tough, that you could survive the orphanage.” “So you chose to send me away.” “Yes.” I watched her, a dreadful calm descending. “And what happened then?” “Then, your father’s business was saved.” “Saved?” “Yes. It rebounded the very next year.” She opened her eyes, looking at me with deep shame. “Since then, the Caldwell fortune has only grown. We’re worth well over a billion dollars now.” I smiled. A tight, bitter movement of my lips. “So, the year after you were saved, you still didn’t come back for me.” She was silent. “The third year, the fifth year, the tenth year…” I counted them off. “You became millionaires, then hundred-millionaires, then billionaires. And still, you left me there.” “Sam…” “Where was Penny when I was taking out student loans for medical school?” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’ll tell you,” I pressed, staring at her. “She was at a private boarding school in Switzerland, paying fifty thousand in tuition alone.” “Sam, I—” “Where was Penny when I was working three jobs to pay off that debt?” She bowed her head. “She was in Milan for Fashion Week, Paris for pastry school, and skiing in Aspen.” “Those were your mother’s arrangements, I—” “You are Grandmamma Caldwell,” I interrupted her, the cold authority of a seasoned surgeon in my voice. “In this family, nothing happens without your nod.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389499”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After the first time we slept together, my boyfriend laughed coldly. “You never expected this, did you? I’m the scum you rejected back in high school.” “How does it feel to have your first time taken by trash?” Staring at Wyatt’s face—the bleached hair now dyed black, the ear piercings healed—I could vaguely see the look of humiliation and rage from years ago when I rejected his confession. I looked at him with relief. “You really are brothers. Your brother said the exact same thing.” “He’s in the closet. Let’s invite him out, shall we?” 01 After waking up, Wyatt kept laughing, louder and louder. I thought he discovered the secret in the closet, my heart pounding. While re-hooking my bra strap, I pretended to be calm and asked, “What’s wrong?” Wyatt wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “I’m laughing at you. The straight-A student, the Valedictorian. Who knew you’d lose so completely to me this time!” He pointed at the messy bed, his tone proud and reckless. “You still haven’t recognized me? It’s me, Wyatt Vance. The ‘trust fund trash’ from the remedial class in high school.” “The scum you rejected just slept with you last night. Tsk, top of the class, high degree… you’re not all that in bed.” Distracted, I hooked my bra strap wrong. It was uneven, cutting into my chest and making it hard to breathe. I looked at the boyfriend I had lived with for a year. My mind was a mess, and I could only ask one thing. “Why treat me like this?” When I met Wyatt, I had just gained a foothold in New York City. He was a new intern. On his first day, he spilled coffee on my shirt. He was handsome, his eyes red-rimmed as he apologized profusely. I didn’t hold it against him, but Wyatt clung to me after that. He claimed to be from a single-parent family, working part-time to put himself through college. His pitiful story, so similar to my own background, made me care for him a little more. Over time, whenever I worked late, Wyatt was there. He always saved a portion of his lunch for me. When I was followed walking home at night, Wyatt beat the guy up and ended up in the station with a concussion, almost brain-damaged. The day we became official, he showed up at my door after dark with just a backpack, saying his landlord kicked him out. His young, handsome face looked pathetic. “Sister, can you lend me two hundred? I’ll pay you back.” Things happened naturally, and we moved in together. Today was our one-year anniversary, and Wyatt’s birthday. He closed his eyes to make a wish. When he opened them, his voice was hoarse. “God can’t grant my wish, but you can.” He undid his shirt with trembling hands, offering himself as a gift. Six-foot-four, lean muscle. Who wouldn’t be moved? But now, Wyatt wore a mocking smile. He tore apart his planned revenge right in front of me. After speaking, he looked at me expectantly, waiting for my reaction. “Valedictorian, let’s agree now, don’t cry. You just got played by scum once, it’s not a stain on your life~” I suddenly laughed. Laughed until I had to wipe my tears. 02 Wyatt froze, a flicker of unnaturalness in his eyes. He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply, and scoffed. “What are you laughing at? Don’t act like it’s nothing. Don’t you girls care about that kind of thing?” “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have wasted a year tricking you into bed.” I stood up and pressed my hand against the closet door. A two-meter-tall wardrobe, wide enough to hide a person. “Wyatt, you mentioned before that you have a brother, right?” “Like brother, like brother. He’s in here too.” “Let’s invite him out, shall we?” The smile on Wyatt’s face froze. He was furious, his eyes bloodshot. “Harper! You played my brother too?!” “When did this happen? Speak!” I invited Wyatt to open the closet door. He hurriedly put on his clothes, waved away the smoke, and stood before the closet. He studied my expression seriously. “Harper, you’re lying. How would you know my brother? He would never…” The next second, Wyatt stopped. I opened the closet door a crack. Revealing the tip of a men’s leather shoe. Wyatt looked like he’d been struck by lightning. Gasping for air, he stumbled back a few steps and ran out the door. Only when I heard the car start downstairs did I lose my strength. I pulled the closet door open completely. Inside was a groom’s suit. And my wedding dress. Plus a bouquet of roses for a proposal. I had planned to propose tonight, on Wyatt’s birthday. Luckily, Wyatt revealed his true colors early. Luckily, he didn’t love me. Since my sincerity was trampled, I felt no guilt lying to him. 03 Since we separated that day, I assumed we were broken up. But at the company team-building event, a thoughtful colleague arranged for us to sit together. Wyatt was late. And he brought a new female companion. When he introduced her, his gaze swept over me with a faint smile. “This is the girl I’ve been chasing for years. She just came back from abroad. First time meeting everyone.” The colleague who arranged the seating sent me an apologetic message. [Sorry, I didn’t know you guys broke up.] [It’s okay. I didn’t have time to say.] [I thought I’d be attending your wedding! First time seeing such a devoted guy. When you had cramps, he’d cry while warming your stomach… why did you break up?] I didn’t reply because Wyatt skillfully started peeling crawfish. The girl he brought smiled shyly and pushed her bowl forward. “Thanks, baby.” But Wyatt put the crawfish meat into my bowl. Under everyone’s gaze, the air went quiet. He raised an eyebrow, laughing nonchalantly. “Oh, I saw Sister Harper had no one serving her, so I’m taking care of her. You didn’t bring a date to the mixer? Must be single. Other guys should take a look at our Sister Harper.” “High degree, strong work ability, pushing thirty but no wrinkles, looks young.” “Single-parent family, no need to take care of in-laws, and she can take care of kids. Perfect!” Several male colleagues were eager to move. Using toasts as an excuse, they asked about my criteria for a partner. Just as a business card was handed over, Wyatt suddenly laughed, interrupting. “Forgot to mention, do you guys have a ‘virginity complex’? If so, forget it. Sister Harper isn’t suitable.” My face went pale. Everyone knew what he meant. A few younger men smiled awkwardly and changed the subject. A divorced male colleague took advantage of the toast to squeeze my shoulder, whispering, “It’s okay, I don’t mind.” I stood up and slapped him. Wiping my hands with a wet wipe, I turned to the girl Wyatt brought: “Hello. If you require a boyfriend who is a virgin, Wyatt definitely isn’t suitable for you.” Wyatt’s face turned the color of paper. 04 The girl held onto Wyatt’s arm and smiled politely. “Sister, I know about that. But Wyatt must have his reasons.” “He’s always been clumsy. He’s used to learning from others before coming back to take care of me.” “Men need experience to be experts. Women… too much experience is bad. There’s always a difference between men and women.” Wyatt affectionately kissed the girl’s forehead, looking at me indifferently. “Right. Theory isn’t enough. Only after practical application can I treat my girlfriend better.” The girl reminded him softly. “It’s really me! Thanks to Sister for reminding us, we haven’t gone official yet! Don’t want people misunderstanding who the third wheel is~” Wyatt tapped her nose dotingly. “Your mouth is sharper than our high-achieving student. But don’t play smart, she used to be formidable.” “Hmph, am I formidable or is she?” The girl acted coy. Wyatt raised an eyebrow at me. “I’m not like some people, picking partners based on degrees. Snobs.” The answer was self-evident. I downed a few glasses of wine and prepared to leave. Amidst the cheers, Wyatt pulled me back, asking me to take a picture. “Sister Harper, you’re smart, you take good photos. Thanks.” Everyone looked over. With a cold face, I watched the flash as the two kissed. I pressed the shutter numbly. I remembered when Wyatt confessed to me, he kissed me earnestly like this too. The wound on my waist where Wyatt had grabbed too hard throbbed again. I felt nauseous and went to the restroom. When I came back, the colleagues were strangely quiet, eyeing me curiously. Wyatt held up my phone, displaying a picture of wedding rings. His gaze was heavy as he asked casually. “Accidentally saw your photo. What were you planning? Proposing to me?” “Sorry, I don’t…” I snatched the phone back and said lightly, “Right. I’m going to propose to your brother. It’s a surprise, don’t tell him.” “If it works, you both have to call me sister-in-law.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389515”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

While scrolling through my phone, I stumbled upon a help post. [I only have 5 days left to live. How should I say goodbye to my owner so she won’t be sad?] [Should I pretend to run away and die secretly somewhere else?] The comments section was full of dog avatars. [This doggo thinks that’s a bad idea. Your owner will feel guilty forever.] [Yeah, I accidentally got lost once, and my owner looked for me for half a month. She even quit her job. What if your owner does the same?] [Sigh, if only we could talk to humans. We could just ask them how they prefer to say goodbye.] I froze. I commented: [If I were the owner, I would want to receive a ball made of my fur baby’s own fur. That way, when I miss him in the future, I can look at it, touch it, and have something to hold onto.] The original poster quickly thanked me. [That’s a great idea! But I don’t have much time left, so I can’t save up naturally shed fur. I’ll just have to pluck all the fur from my tail.] Not long after, my dog jumped onto my bed, carrying a fur ball the exact same color as him in his mouth. When I saw his bare, bald tail, I froze. 1. [OP, are you very sick? Why do you only have 5 days left?] [If you’re in pain, just whimper constantly or stop eating. Humans will notice and take you to the vet.] The original poster (OP) replied: [I’m not sick. I’m just too old. Dying of old age.] A user with a Golden Retriever avatar advised: [I still suggest you tell your owner. Let her be mentally prepared.] [You’ve lived such a long life; your owner must care about you deeply. If you die suddenly, she definitely won’t be able to accept it.] OP posted a sad emoji. [But I want Mom to cry less.] [I’m also very scared. After I die, Mom won’t be able to handle the blow and will die with me.] As soon as this was said, the comments section exploded. [Stop bragging. Your owner dying with you? I’ve lived seven or eight years and never seen a human die for a pet.] [Exactly. You think you’re so special. Just lying because humans can’t reach you here, right?] The comments got more aggressive. But the OP replied to each one with a good temper. [I’m not lying. Mom was very sick before. When she got sick, she would always hug me and say if I wasn’t here, she wouldn’t live either.] [So I exercised every day and ate lots of food just to live a few more years to accompany Mom. But I’m really too old now.] He posted a crying emoji. [I really hope Mom can live on happily.] 2. When I was reading this post, my best friend Sarah and I had just finished picking out a pet villa. Driving, Sarah said, “Lucky choosing you as his owner in this life is simply the greatest happiness a dog could have.” “A luxury pet playhouse for $2,000 a day, and you rented it without blinking. How many dogs get to live such a luxurious life?” I smiled. “Last time he saw dogs playing there on TV, he was so excited. I thought, if other dogs have it, my dog must have it too.” “Though it does hurt my wallet a bit. Two months’ salary gone.” Sarah rolled her eyes at me. “Stop pretending. Give you another chance, and you’d pay the deposit without hesitation.” The scenery outside the window blurred past. She sighed, “Time flies. In the blink of an eye, Lucky is almost 14.” I nodded in agreement. But my gaze was drawn back to the post where the OP asked: [Should I pretend to run away and die secretly? Would that make Mom feel better?] For some reason, I suddenly thought of Lucky at home, with his white muzzle. 3. So I commented: “I don’t suggest doing that. The owner will be heartbroken.” “I have a dog myself. If the day comes for him to pass away, I hope he can pass peacefully in my arms, not die pitifully in a place I can’t see.” I paused, then added another comment. “If you really want to make your owner less sad, why not make a felt ball out of your fur and give it to her? That way, when she misses you in the future, she can look at it, touch it, and remember you.” As soon as I posted this… Users with different dog avatars all sent me question marks. Only then did I realize that everyone was commenting from the perspective of small animals, while I was using a human perspective. Just as I wanted to delete and repost. The OP replied to me: [That’s a great idea! I’ll go make one for my Mom right now.] [But I don’t have time to collect shed fur. I’ll have to pluck the fur from my tail.] 4. He sent a string of four or five happy emojis. After replying with a “Good luck,” I opened the group chat for dog owners who often played with Lucky. I invited them to bring their fur babies to Lucky’s birthday party in 5 days. The group cheered. But my thoughts were pulled by that help post. I refreshed the post from time to time, wanting to see how the OP was doing. Maybe because I also had an old dog at home, even though I knew a person likely wrote the post, I couldn’t help but project it onto my own dog. Sarah laughed loudly. “Except for his age, what part of your Lucky is like an old dog?” “When he goes out to play, he runs faster than a two-year-old puppy. Energetic as a bull calf. Don’t overthink it.” I was amused by her string of adjectives. Thinking, yeah. Lucky eats well and drinks well. When I asked him a few days ago how long he could still accompany me, he chose the “10 years” card. Dogs don’t lie. Endless warmth surged in my heart. Clutching the new toy I bought for him, I wished I could fly home immediately. 5. But when I opened the door. And saw Lucky holding a fur ball in his mouth, offering it to my hand like a treasure… My whole body froze. Why was his tail bald? At the same time, my phone buzzed. It was the OP sending me feedback. [Sorry, my owner doesn’t seem to like the fur ball very much. Usually, when I bring her toys, she kisses me and praises me. But today she’s motionless, and her expression is weird.] A Tibetan Mastiff avatar replied first: [I bet you were afraid of pain and didn’t dare to pluck the fur!] The OP got anxious and threw a picture into the thread. [Look! Is that my fur in my Mom’s hand or not?!] [I’m about to die, would I be afraid of a little pain?!] When I saw the content of the picture clearly. I could hardly breathe. In the picture, a black fur ball the size of a ping pong ball rested on a palm. But what caught my attention… Was the small red mole on that palm. I shifted my gaze to my own palm. The bald tail, the identical fur ball. If these were coincidences. Then what about this red mole? 6. My heart felt like it was gripped by an invisible hand. I immediately clicked on the OP’s profile. [Bit an old man today. Mom was very angry. But I only bit him because I saw him taking photos up Mom’s skirt with his phone. Mom blamed me wrongly.] [Grandma and Grandpa passed away. Although they treated Mom badly, Mom is still very sad, crying secretly every night. When I find her, she cries even louder, saying she only has me left, asking me to accompany her forever. But I’m getting very old too, sigh…] Reading this. I reflexively checked the date. June 28, 2024. My parents died in a car accident that month. I checked the date of the biting incident. October 2, 2024. And last October, Lucky indeed bit someone. I paid $300 in compensation. My hands trembled uncontrollably. Before I could verify further. The OP sent me a private message. [Hello, my name is Lucky.] [Excuse me, are you a human?] Seeming afraid I would find him rude. He added another sentence. [This is a forum specifically for dogs. Usually, it’s dogs talking, but I feel your way of speaking is different from us.] [So I took the liberty to ask you.] [If it’s inconvenient, you don’t have to reply.] My eyes stung with tears. With trembling hands, I asked: [Why are you named Lucky?] The other side said: [Because when Mom found me, I had a broken leg. She hoped that even with three legs, I would be lucky and happy.] Tears smashed onto the screen instantly. Unwilling to give up, I sent another command. [Go pick up your favorite toy for your Mom right now.] After sending this sentence. I immediately looked at Lucky. I saw him tilt his head in thought. Then, he turned and ran toward his favorite yellow duck plushie. Watching him run toward me with a smile on his face, missing a hind leg. The last nerve supporting me collapsed completely. 7. I picked up Lucky on the road when I was suicidal after failing my college entrance exams. It was raining heavily that day, visibility was terrible. But just as I stepped onto the bridge. I saw a middle-aged man holding a knife, crazily stabbing the hind leg of a puppy. Lucky, back then, was only the size of a palm. One stab, and the tendon in his leg was severed. I never considered myself an animal lover. But in that moment. Watching Lucky tremble in pain, too scared to even yelp. The thought that I must save him burst out of me. So I spent the last $400 I had on me to buy him and took him to the vet. At that time, I had severe depression. When emotions hit, I would somatize, lying on the floor unable to move. Thinking of ending my life constantly. But every time I struggled to crawl to the kitchen and picked up a knife. I would hear Lucky’s sharp, miserable cry right on time. As if reminding me there was still a living creature in the house waiting for milk. Lucky was so small then. The bottle nipple was almost as big as his head. I didn’t delusionally think he would survive. I just felt that since I brought him back, I would raise him until I couldn’t anymore. So under his constant urging. I had to put down the thing in my hand and crawl over to feed him. But against all odds, he lived. Not only could he walk, but he was also particularly good at reading my emotions. Whenever I was down, or my parents called to berate me. He would wobble over to me and butt my head with his little milky head. Then make some laughable expressions.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389531”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel