Category: English

Chapter 1 On my wedding day, my fiancé Julian’s childhood best friend, Chloe, demanded a Sudoku match against me. “Julian will set the puzzle. Whoever solves it first gets to wear the wedding dress.” “You’ve been a professional Sudoku coach for years… don’t tell me you’re scared?” I wasn’t scared. But Julian cheated. He had barely finished writing down the puzzle before Chloe scribbled the final numbers. She lifted her chin, looking at me triumphantly. “A bet is a bet. This wedding dress is mine.” Julian’s doting gaze shifted from Chloe to me, and he frowned slightly. “This is what you owe her from five years ago. It’s just a dress. Let her have it.” “Sure,” I replied calmly. Not only would I give her the dress, but I’d give her the wedding, too. Julian had no idea that last night, his best friend had called to warn me exactly what would happen today. I hadn’t believed him. So, he made a bet with me. “If you lose, come to this address tomorrow and marry me instead.” I lost twice in one day. I walked out of Julian’s wedding and went straight to another one. My role was still the bride, but this time, I wore a custom gown made exclusively for me. An hour before the ceremony was supposed to start, I still believed the scenario Liam had described wouldn’t actually happen. Until Chloe pushed open the door to my bridal suite. She wasn’t alone. Julian and a large group of their mutual friends trailed in behind her. “How about a quick Sudoku match?” Chloe asked, taking the lead. My heart dropped. I instinctively looked at Julian. He sat casually on the sofa, looking mildly exasperated but entirely unbothered. “Chloe never managed to beat you back in school. She’s been begging for a rematch.” Chloe pouted playfully. “I’m definitely going to win this time. Right?” Julian didn’t answer. “The ceremony starts in an hour. Are you sure you want to do this right now?” I couldn’t help but ask. My makeup was done. All I had to do was slip into the dress and pin my veil. “Don’t be a poor sport. If my Sudoku skills hadn’t been worse than yours back then, Julian and I might have ended up together,” Chloe suddenly remarked. Julian’s head snapped up. He looked at me, then quickly shifted his gaze back to Chloe. Chloe finally clarified, “Serena and I have a bet. If I lose, I’ll go back abroad and stop bothering you two.” “Wait, I never—” Before I could finish, Julian cut me off. “Then let’s play.” His tone was final. The look he gave me was chillingly cold. The words died in my throat. “Julian will set the puzzle. Whoever wins wears the wedding dress. You’ve been a professional Sudoku coach for years… don’t tell me you’re scared?” Chloe’s voice was teasing, dripping with absolute certainty. The friends behind her couldn’t resist chiming in: “Classic Chloe! Always so bold. But if you wear the dress, how are they going to explain that to the guests?” Chloe laughed lightly. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just wearing the dress. It’s not like I’m the one marrying Julian.” “But losing your own wedding dress to someone else? That’s so humiliating for the bride.” “And she’s about to join the national coaching team. If word gets out she lost to an amateur, her career is toast.” From their whispers, it was obvious they all knew the outcome was rigged against me. But I kept my eyes fixed solely on Julian. “What do you think?” More than Chloe and her entourage, his opinion was the only one that mattered to me. Julian just spread his hands, his voice indifferent. “Just play one round. Didn’t you use a bet like this to force her out of the country five years ago?” “Fine.” I smiled, adding quietly, “If I lose, how about I give her the wedding, too?” Julian frowned. Chloe immediately scoffed. “You’d actually give him up? Or are you just trying to manipulate Julian into helping you cheat?” Just like I did with Liam last night, I was giving Julian one final chance. But hearing Chloe’s words, he simply said, “Stop being dramatic, Serena. You know I don’t respond well to ultimatums.” “Julian, you can write the puzzle now.” He shot me a brief, apologetic glance before taking the pen and paper Chloe handed him. It was a diagonal Sudoku puzzle, competition-level difficulty. He had barely finished writing the grid before Chloe was furiously scribbling numbers into the boxes. In under a minute, she finished the puzzle and handed it to Julian. “Did I get it right?” Before he could speak, I capped my pen, pushing down the bitter ache in my chest. “You got it right.” I looked at Julian, completely baffled. To cheat this blatantly… he could have just told me he wanted Chloe to wear the dress today. “Wow, Julian isn’t even trying to hide his favoritism.” “Chloe should have at least pretended to struggle. She hasn’t touched Sudoku in years.” “But did you see the look in her eyes? She’s out for blood. She had to leave the country because of a bet back then. Now it’s Serena’s turn.” “But she’s marrying Julian today! What is she supposed to wear if not the wedding dress? People will laugh her out of the venue.” “It’s probably just a joke. Julian would never actually humiliate Serena like that.” “The guests won’t know the real story. If word gets out that a gold-medal coach lost to an amateur…” The gossiping stopped abruptly as Chloe shot a sharp look over her shoulder. When she turned back to me, her eyes were filled with triumph. “A bet is a bet. This wedding dress is mine.” “Honestly, I’m not a huge fan of this style. It’s too busy. Why so many diamonds? I’ll probably have the alterations team rip them all off before I wear it. I prefer a simpler look.” I followed her gaze to the wedding gown hanging behind me. It cost $400,000. Julian had it flown in from Paris. It was the exact style I loved, and yes, I was superficial enough to love the diamonds. I clenched my fists and looked at Julian. “Why?” Why did you help her cheat? He understood the real question hidden in my words and explained quietly: “You owe her this. It’s not a big deal to lose once. Besides, I’m still the one marrying you.” “No one helped me cheat five years ago. And we never even made a bet…” “Are you backing out?” Chloe interrupted, stepping toward me aggressively. Julian frowned deeply. “The Sterling family does not tolerate women who go back on their word.” The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere in the room turned heavy. No one expected this to be serious. Julian actually meant it. I stared at his face, swallowed every ounce of grievance and resentment, and slowly nodded. “Fine. A bet is a bet.” I had lost twice in one day. I lost my wedding dress, and I lost my marriage. A bet is a bet! I could no longer marry Julian. I was going to marry Liam instead. Thinking of this, I pulled out my phone and texted Liam. [I lost. I’ll be there in half an hour to marry you.] Liam replied almost instantly. [Okay. Waiting for you.] Attached to the message was a photo of a wedding dress. One glance, and I recognized it. It was the centerpiece gown from the exact same designer collection Julian had bought from. But this one was infinitely more complex, with master-level craftsmanship. Naturally, it was far more expensive, easily costing seven figures. At the time, I thought it was too much, so I never asked for it. “You can all leave now. I need to change into my dress.” Chloe’s voice snapped me back to reality. I locked my phone screen, stood up, and offered her my seat. “Wait. Aren’t you going to take your makeup off?” “With a face like that, won’t you look too overdressed in whatever normal clothes you end up wearing?” “You could wear a bridesmaid dress, I guess. Pink used to be the color for mistresses in the old days, but I suppose people don’t care about that anymore.” Chloe spoke with casual cruelty. She turned to Julian. “Since I won the dress, shouldn’t she give up the makeup look, too?” Only then did I realize her makeup was identical to mine. It was further proof that this entire “bet” had been premeditated. Everything Liam told me last night was true. The reason Julian allowed all of this to happen was because he blamed me for Chloe leaving five years ago. He thought I had schemed to get rid of her. “Take off her makeup!” Julian ordered coldly, leaving no room for argument. I reacted instinctively. “And if I refuse?” “Then you don’t attend the wedding!” I gasped, staring at him in utter disbelief. The tears I had been holding back finally broke. I pointed at Chloe, my voice trembling: “So she gets to attend instead? I’m giving you exactly what you want, aren’t I?” Chloe froze, a flash of pure joy crossing her eyes. But Julian closed the distance between us in two strides. He grabbed my shoulders and whispered fiercely: “Serena, stop this! When you used your Sudoku skills to bully Chloe back then, you should have known this day would come.” “Chloe suffered a lot abroad these past five years. Just let her vent a little.” “Besides, you’re still the one I’m marrying. You’re just not wearing the dress.” I tried to explain one last time: “Five years ago, she challenged me. I didn’t seek her out.” “And there was never any bet! I had absolutely no idea she was leaving the country!” Julian stared hard at me. Just as his expression began to soften, Chloe suddenly spoke up. “Forget it. There’s no point talking about this now.” “I don’t even want the dress anymore. Serena, you are incredibly manipulative.” “You saw how close Julian and I were growing up, and you did everything you could to trick me into leaving.” “I was young and naive, and I fell for it. But I never imagined anyone could be this shameless.” With that, she turned to leave, dramatically pushing up her sleeve to reveal an ugly, jagged scar on her wrist. Julian’s pupils contracted violently. Without another word, he grabbed a bottle of makeup remover and dumped it directly over my head. I couldn’t dodge in time. I could only hold my breath as the liquid cascaded down my face. He scrubbed his hand roughly across my cheeks. When he stepped back, my face looked like a smeared, horrifying clown painting. A wave of suffocating humiliation washed over me. He wrapped an arm around me, his voice suddenly sickeningly soft. “I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything to you later.” “Just have them redo it. Pick a look that fits your new outfit better.” The bridal suite fell completely silent. Chloe, claiming the room was too cramped, took her entourage and left. Naturally, they took the wedding dress with them. But the room felt massive to me now. So big that my breathing seemed to echo off the walls. I tried. I really tried to hold myself together. But when I looked in the mirror and saw the pathetic clown staring back at me, I finally broke down and sobbed. I realized that for the last five years, I had been nothing but a clown. When Liam called me last night, I thought it was a sick joke. I was even angry at him. “Impossible!” “Julian would never do that to me.” My confidence wasn’t baseless. It was built on everything he had done for me over the past five years. When I first started coaching and was being relentlessly harassed by a student’s obsessed parent, Julian spent half a month systematically ruining the man’s business until he went bankrupt. Back then, he said, “I will never let anyone hurt you.” When massive flooding trapped me in my hometown and the water rose to the roof, Julian appeared out of nowhere like a godsend in a rescue boat. Back then, he said, “I don’t even want to imagine how terrifying life would be if I lost you.” But now, he was actively helping someone else hurt me. He was no longer afraid of losing me. “Oh my god! What happened?!” A gasp broke through my thoughts. The makeup artist had returned. She looked incredibly awkward. “Mr. Sterling said you needed your makeup redone, so he sent us back…” I wiped away my tears and let out a bitter laugh. “Could you just help me clean this off first?” The makeup artist frantically started removing the smeared mess, her voice surprisingly gentle: “If a marriage starts off this miserable, I really think you should reconsider going through with it.” I murmured an agreement and looked down at my phone. I sent a text to my parents, who were currently waiting in the banquet hall downstairs. [The wedding venue has changed. Don’t tell anyone. Just bring our relatives and go to this address.] They replied with a string of question marks, followed quickly by an “Okay.” I didn’t have the energy to explain anything right now. When my face was finally clean, I checked the time. Twenty minutes left. I grabbed the makeup artist’s hand. “Will you come with me? I’ll pay double your rate.” She blinked, utterly confused. Right then, Liam called. “I’m here to pick you up.” I froze. He continued, “I thought about it and decided I couldn’t just wait. I came to get you myself.” His voice grew excited: “You haven’t changed your mind, have you? I’ve got everything set up on my end!” “You won’t be happy marrying a guy like Julian. Chloe came back specifically to steal him.” Before Liam could fully panic, I told him: “I’ll be down in two minutes. Did you bring enough cars? My parents and all my relatives need rides, too.” “Plenty! I brought the whole fleet. Dozens of cars.” Liam’s voice was practically bubbling with laughter. He sounded a little goofy. I hung up the phone and looked at the makeup artist, who was frantically packing her kit. “Say less, sis. I support you 100%.” “Let’s go get you married somewhere else. Sounds like this new guy actually values you.” But as we walked out the door, we ran straight into Chloe, struggling down the stairs in that massive, heavy wedding gown. Julian was right by her side, holding her arm, looking at her with total adoration. Our eyes met. Julian’s pupils shrank in surprise. “Why isn’t your makeup done?! The ceremony is starting in five minutes!” “Serena, are you trying to ruin this wedding?! I’m warning you, don’t push me.” Before he could finish his threat, he noticed Liam walking toward me. “Liam? Didn’t you say you had something extremely important to do today?” Liam stood by my side, a radiant smile on his face. “Yep. I’m here to pick up the bride. I’m getting married today.” “Married?” Julian repeated, entirely in shock. He looked around the empty hallway. “Where’s the bride? Who are you marrying?” Liam couldn’t suppress his grin. He looked at me, his eyes shining. Before today, Liam and I had barely spoken. He was part of Julian’s inner circle, but he spent most of his time abroad. I could count the number of times we had met on one hand. That’s why when he called me last night, my first thought was that it was a prank. But looking at him closely now, I realized he was strikingly handsome. When his deep, expressive eyes curved into a smile, it was almost impossible to look away. My heart gave an inexplicable, nervous flutter. “Don’t tell me it’s Serena.” Julian suddenly laughed, pointing a finger at me. His tone dripped with the absolute absurdity of the idea. I froze, looking back at Julian. Chloe chimed in: “Liam, don’t let her trick you. Today is her wedding with Julian.” “Trying to marry two different men on the exact same day? How desperate can you be?” Julian frowned at her words, but he merely glanced at Chloe and didn’t stop her. “Oh? If it’s her wedding, why are you wearing the wedding dress?” “What, couldn’t find a husband of your own?” Liam’s voice was sharp. Chloe’s face instantly went white. “Don’t talk to her like that,” Julian instinctively defended her. Chloe’s eyes welled with tears as she glared at me furiously: “Serena, aren’t you going to explain yourself?!” “You lost the dress in a fair bet! Whose fault is that?!” “Julian and Liam are best friends, and you’re trying to drive a wedge between them?! Do you have any idea how much damage you’re causing?” “Oh, right. You’re just a Sudoku coach. You don’t understand how business and networking work.” “If you ruin Julian’s relationship with Liam today, your life in the Sterling family will be a living hell!” She couldn’t lash out at Liam, so she directed all her venom and threats at me. “The ceremony is starting! The bride and groom need to enter the hall!” The wedding coordinator ran over, rushing them. Chloe lifted her chin and looked at me. “Aren’t you coming? Or do you expect me to walk down the aisle for you too?” Julian stormed over, his face thunderous, and grabbed my wrist. “Enough with the tantrums.” “Don’t forget, you were the one who wanted to get married!” I struggled against his grip, but he held on tighter. I stopped fighting and let him hold my wrist. “It sounds like you never wanted to.” Julian hesitated for a fraction of a second. “That’s not what I meant. Why do you always have to be so difficult?” “Your bride is right there. You’ve got the wrong girl, Julian.” I gestured toward Chloe with my chin. Julian’s face turned terrifyingly cold. “Serena Davis! Do not push my limits!” I met his fury head-on. “Who wears the dress is the bride. Do you really not understand something that simple?” A flash of pain crossed Julian’s eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by dark anger. “You lost the dress to her yourself!” “No. I simply stepped aside for you two. The cheating was so incredibly obvious you didn’t even try to hide it.” “Julian, if you wanted to marry Chloe, you could have just told me. It’s not like nobody else wants me.” With that, I took a deep breath and looked at Liam. One look was all it took. He immediately stepped forward and grabbed Julian’s wrist. While Julian was still processing the shock, Liam forced Julian’s hand open and pulled me behind him. “Did you not understand her, Julian?” “My wife is graciously stepping aside so you can be with Chloe. Now hurry up and walk down the aisle with your real bride.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533239”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chapter 1 My husband is the captain of an international cargo ship, spending ten months out of the year out on the ocean. I had always trusted him implicitly. But I had a little private ritual that no one ever noticed. Every time his ship docked for supplies, I would invite the First Officer’s wife out for a few drinks. Her husband was a man of few words, but she was chatty and a terrible lightweight. We’d talk about family gossip, ship drama, and usually, by the third drink, she’d lean in and say something revealing. “Your husband is incredibly romantic. Last month when the ship docked in Marseille, he actually tracked down a local artisan to custom-make a whole set of ocean-wave diamond jewelry. A necklace, bracelet, earrings—the works! He even had it sent back on the supply ship. I’m so jealous.” I lowered my voice. “Is that right? I never received it.” I didn’t press the issue, and she tactfully changed the subject. That night, when I got home, I opened the voyage logbook. On the manifest for the Marseille port delivery, under the jewelry section, the shipping address was not my house. The wind and waves at sea are unpredictable. It was time for me to get off this ship. Shipping Address: 1203, Building 17, Bayview Apartments. Note: Must be signed for by recipient personally. Do not hand over to family members. I stared at the last five words for a very long time. Do not hand over to family members. Gavin and I had been married for six years. Every time before he set sail, he would leave his keys in the second drawer of the entryway console. He would say, “Sarah, I’m leaving the house in your hands.” I took care of his parents, ran his vehicle inspections, and sent out notifications to the crew’s family group chats. I had always thought I was his family. It turned out, on his manifest, ‘family’ were the people who were not allowed to touch that diamond set. My phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from Gavin. [Just passed the Suez Canal. Signal is spotty.] I replied with one word. [Okay.] He probably didn’t expect such a short response. Two minutes later, he texted again. [You didn’t ask me if I’ve eaten today.] I closed the voyage logbook. [Have you?] He replied instantly. [Yes.] I looked at the screen and gave a small laugh. For someone with a spotty signal, he sure replied fast to that one. The next morning, I drove to Bayview Apartments. It was the most expensive luxury oceanfront complex in the city, just a ten-minute drive from the port. The security guard asked who I was looking for. I showed him the delivery manifest on my phone. “Building 17, Unit 1203. Cargo verification.” Seeing the official note, the guard’s attitude immediately became respectful. “Please wait a moment, ma’am. Ms. Quinn in 1203 happens to be home.” Ms. Quinn. I memorized the name. As the elevator went up, I received a FaceTime request from Gavin. I didn’t answer. He called three more times. The fourth time, it was a text. [Where are you?] I replied: [Grocery shopping.] He sent back: [Don’t run around too much. I’m not home, and there are a lot of things you don’t know how to handle.] The elevator doors opened. The door to 1203 opened as well. The woman was wearing a silk loungewear set. Around her neck was the ocean-wave diamond necklace. Seeing me, her fingers instinctively brushed against the necklace. “Who are you?” I said, “Sarah Davis.” The smile on her face faltered for a second, but she quickly recovered. “Ah, Mrs. Sterling.” The way she said ‘Mrs. Sterling’ was neither polite nor guilty. Chloe Quinn invited me in. Several opened delivery boxes were sitting on the floor in the living room. Local French artisanal wrapping paper was scattered on the coffee table. I saw the earrings, the bracelet, and a small card. The handwriting on the card belonged to Gavin. [Ocean waves should be worn by someone who understands the ocean.] The year Gavin and I got married, he gave me a nautical watch. The strap was stiff, and wearing it for a long time chafed my wrist. He had said, “The captain’s wife should have something from the ship.” I wore it for six years. And later, he gave ocean waves to someone else, claiming she understood the ocean. Chloe poured me a glass of water. “Did Mrs. Sterling come here to take these things back?” I didn’t touch the glass. “The things Gavin bought for me were delivered to you.” She laughed. “Mrs. Sterling, you should ask him about that. To see who something belongs to, shouldn’t you check the shipping address?” I said, “I did.” I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the card on the coffee table. Chloe reached out to block the camera. “You’re not being very dignified.” I looked up at her. “Is accepting diamond jewelry from a married man dignified?” Her expression turned cold. “Gavin must have told you, right? We knew each other long before you did.” I nodded. “So you’ve been waiting in line for six years. That must be exhausting.” Chloe hadn’t expected me to say that. She unclasped the necklace and placed it on the coffee table, her movements slow and deliberate. “If you want to take it, take it.” I didn’t move. She added, “But what’s the point of taking it? The person he wants to see when he’s out at sea is still me.” Her words didn’t sting. It was just a pathetic display of self-delusion. I stood up. “I’ll leave it with you for now. Don’t lose it.” Chloe frowned. “What do you mean?” I said, “Someone is going to be investigating it later.” As I walked to the door, my phone rang again. Gavin. I answered. He snapped immediately: “Sarah, what are you doing at Bayview?!” I glanced back at Chloe. She had her head down, her fingers already tapping away on another phone. She was fast. I asked Gavin, “How did you know?” He paused for two seconds. “Chloe said some strange woman was harassing her. I figured it was you.” I said, “She’s not a stranger. If you gave her diamond jewelry, I should probably know who she is.” The line went dead silent. Then, suppressing his anger, he said, “That was a client gift. Stop overthinking it.” “A client?” “She helps the shipping conglomerate with port promotions. She’s a business partner.” I let out a laugh. “A business partner who lives in an apartment where your delivery note specifically says ‘Do not hand over to family members’?” Gavin’s voice turned icy. “Sarah, don’t make me deal with your emotional tantrums while I’m at sea.” I hung up the phone. That evening, my mother-in-law showed up. She arrived in a rush, not even bothering to take off her shoes at the door. “You went to see Chloe?!” I was in the kitchen, cooking oatmeal. “Did Gavin tell you that?” My mother-in-law threw her purse onto the sofa. “He was frantic! Does it matter who told me? Sarah, why are you becoming so unreasonable?” “My husband gave diamond jewelry to another woman, and I’m the unreasonable one?” Her face hardened. “Gavin is a captain. He has to network. When a man is out in the world, certain social obligations are unavoidable. You sit at home all day, you don’t understand the pressures he faces.” I pulled out a photocopy of the delivery manifest and placed it on the dining table. “Obligations that require this level of secrecy?” She glanced at it, not bothering to read the details. “It’s just a set of jewelry. Are you lacking jewelry? If you like it so much, just wait for Gavin to come back and ask him to buy you one.” I said, “What I’m lacking is a husband who doesn’t lie to me.” She slammed her hand on the table. “What did he lie to you about? Doesn’t he bring his paycheck home? The house you live in, didn’t he buy it by sailing the seas?” I stared at her. The down payment for this house came from the money my dad left me when he passed away. I was the one who oversaw the renovations. Gavin was at sea so often he didn’t even remember the color of our bedroom curtains. Seeing me stay silent, she assumed I was backing down. “Go apologize to Chloe tomorrow. Let’s put an end to this. Don’t you dare ruin Gavin’s chances of being promoted to Chief Captain.” I poured the oatmeal into a bowl. “I am not apologizing.” She was shaking with rage. “Do you really think you’re that important? You get to live the glamorous life of a captain’s wife. What are you without him?” I set the bowl down. “I’ll be myself again.” Gavin’s ship docked five days later. I didn’t go to the port to pick him up. In the past, whenever he docked, I would start preparing three days in advance. Fresh bedsheets, a fridge stocked with his favorite foods, hangover pills in the car. This time, I stayed home, organizing the logbooks. When the lock clicked, I was just scanning the Marseille port page into my computer. Gavin dragged his luggage in, still wearing his uniform. The first thing he saw was the logbook on the desk, and his face instantly darkened. “Sarah, you’re investigating me?” “Are you afraid of what I’ll find?” He tossed his captain’s hat onto the sofa. “I just got off the ship. Do we really have to fight right now?” “I’m not fighting.” He walked over and snatched the logbook away. “Where did you get this?” “It’s the family copy of the ledger. It’s always been kept with me.” He glared at me, heavily displeased. “Don’t touch the ship’s documents ever again.” I laughed. “When you used the ship’s supply channel to smuggle diamond jewelry to Chloe, did you think about not touching the ship’s resources?” My words choked him. A few minutes later, he changed his tune. “That jewelry set isn’t what you think it is.” I asked, “Then what is it?” “Chloe helped me out in the past. She’s had a hard time these last few years. I was just giving her a gift.” I said, “You gave her diamonds. What did you get me?” A flash of irritation crossed his face. “Do you have to compare yourself to her?” I didn’t say anything. He dug into his luggage, pulled out a small bag, and placed it on the table. “I brought you something.” Inside the bag was a fridge magnet. From a port souvenir shop. The price tag on the back hadn’t even been peeled off. Two euros. I put the magnet back into the bag. Gavin’s face grew even uglier. “You’re not happy with this either?” I asked, “Do you honestly think I should be?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sarah, I am exhausted from being at sea. Chloe understands the maritime industry, and she understands the pressure I’m under. You sit at home obsessing over these tiny, insignificant details. Is this really necessary?” In his eyes, a complete set of custom diamond jewelry was just a “tiny, insignificant detail,” and our six-year marriage was equally trivial. I pulled out my phone and pulled up the visitor logs for Bayview Apartments. “You said she was a client. Does a client live in an apartment where you are registered as a resident with temporary access?” “Who told you that?” “The security guard.” He lunged and snatched my phone away. He scrolled through the gallery, realized I had backed it up, and stopped. “What exactly are you trying to do?” I said, “Get a divorce.” He froze. The next second, he laughed. “Sarah, stop using the word ‘divorce’ to scare me. How are you going to survive without me?” “You’ve been out of the workforce for so long, you have absolutely zero marketable skills. Without me, you are nothing.” I looked at him. “You’ve never once asked what kind of leverage I hold.” He tossed my phone back onto the desk. “You’ve been sitting at home for too long. You’ve seen too little of the real world. Your thinking is incredibly naive.” That night, he voluntarily moved into the guest room. At 1:00 AM, I heard muffled talking through the wall. The door wasn’t shut tightly. He was keeping his voice low. “Don’t worry, she can’t do any real damage. She’ll throw a fit for a few days and then get over it.” “Just wear the jewelry, you don’t need to return it. I bought it for you anyway.” “My mom will step in and put her in her place. She wouldn’t actually dare to divorce me.” I stood in the hallway, completely silent. So that was it. To him, all my pain and grievance were just temporary tantrums that would blow over in a few days. The next day, the shipping conglomerate hosted a small docking banquet for Gavin. My mother-in-law called me first thing in the morning, ordering me to go. “If you don’t show up, what will people think of Gavin?” I asked, “Is he bringing Chloe?” She sounded impatient. “Chloe is a business partner. Of course she’s going. Stop being so petty.” I went. I wore a long black dress and left my wedding ring at home. The banquet was held at a portside hotel. When I walked into the private dining room, Chloe was sitting to Gavin’s immediate left. She was wearing a white dress, the ocean-wave diamond necklace sparkling around her neck. The earrings were there, too. The complete set. My mother-in-law saw me and immediately waved me over. “Sarah, come here. Sit over there, near the door. It’s easier for the servers to bring out the food.” Gavin didn’t object. Chloe looked up, offering a faint smile. “Mrs. Sterling, please don’t misunderstand. I needed this jewelry for a photoshoot today, and Gavin said I could hold onto it for a bit.” People at the table started teasing them. “Captain Sterling has great taste! That ocean-wave design looks incredible on Ms. Quinn.” “He’s a captain, after all. Only someone who understands the ocean truly understands him.” “Mrs. Sterling shouldn’t be jealous. Ms. Quinn is practically family.” Gavin picked up his glass. “Alright, enough joking around.” He said “enough,” but the smirk on his face betrayed him. I sat near the door. A server placed a cold seafood platter in front of me. I had a bad stomach and couldn’t eat cold seafood. Gavin used to know that. Now, he was busy placing hot food onto Chloe’s plate. Chloe walked over to me, holding her wine glass. “Mrs. Sterling, I want to toast you. In the past, Gavin always talked about how hard you worked taking care of the elderly at home. I really admire you.” I stared at her necklace. “What else did he say?” A triumphant glint flashed in Chloe’s eyes. “He always said you were perfect in every way… except you could never understand the ocean in his heart.” The room went dead silent. Someone immediately tried to laugh it off to break the tension. “Well, you know how it is with crew families. You’re apart more than you’re together. It’s all about mutual understanding.” My mother-in-law hissed at me from the side. “Drink the wine. Don’t embarrass us.” Gavin looked at me. “Sarah, if you have a problem, we can talk about it privately. Let’s not lose our dignity in public.” I picked up the glass. I didn’t drink it. I poured the wine into the potted plant next to me. Chloe’s face changed. My mother-in-law shot up from her chair. “Sarah Davis!” Gavin also stood up, reaching out to grab me. Right at that moment, the First Officer’s wife, Emily, pushed open the door and rushed in. Her face was flushed from drinking, and she was clutching a folded piece of paper. “Sarah, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She shoved the paper into my hand, unable to keep her voice down. “That Marseille delivery wasn’t just jewelry. There was a signed authorization form. It has your name on it, but I know for a fact you never signed anything like that.” Gavin’s face went deathly pale. He reached out to snatch it from me. I stepped back and unfolded the paper. At the very bottom, on the signature line, were three distinct words. Sarah Davis. It was not my handwriting.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533240”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chapter 1 When my buddy got married, I gave him five thousand dollars as a wedding gift. My girlfriend, Claire, scoffed. “You barely make that in a month. Why are you playing the big shot?” I explained that he was my childhood best friend, a brother to me. She just clicked her tongue and didn’t say another word. That night, she secretly swapped the five thousand dollars in the envelope for five bucks. The next day, my buddy, Mark, called me. “Evan, did you make a mistake with the envelope? Why is there only five dollars in here?” I gripped my phone, listening to Claire lounging in the living room, casually explaining: “Money doesn’t equal friendship. It’s the thought that counts.” A week later, her childhood best friend, Julian, got engaged. A fleet of drones lit up the night sky, spelling out “Forever and Always” amidst a shower of thousands of rose petals. Down below, he was gifted a five-hundred-thousand-dollar watch, standing in the middle of a massive, fully rented-out grand ballroom. Claire stood next to me, gazing up at the spectacular show, her voice soft and tender: “It’s nothing, really. The whole thing cost barely a million.” “When a brother gets engaged, you have to do it right.” As the sky rained cascading lights, she and Julian stared at each other across the crowded room for a long time, as if no one else existed. In that moment, the last shred of self-deception in my heart finally shattered. … The drones rearranged themselves in the sky, spelling out “Julian, Wishing You Happiness.” The words glared blindingly bright against the night sky. Around me, people gasped in awe. “Half a million just on the watch! Claire doesn’t play around…” “Julian is so lucky. I heard they flew in a specialized drone team all the way from Europe just for this…” I tilted my head back. My neck ached, and my eyes stung. Flashing through my mind on a loop was Mark’s confused, hurt voice asking about the five dollars, and Claire’s absolute indifference, not even bothering to look up from her phone. Five dollars for my brother. One million dollars for hers. Back then, without even looking at me, she tied her silk scarf and said: “Money doesn’t equal friendship. Why do you have to use cash to prove something?” Now, she stood here, throwing a million-dollar spectacle just to prove to the entire world exactly how much she valued another man. “Evan?” A clear, bright voice called out from beside me. I turned my head. Julian had walked over at some point. He was decked out in a matching set of a luxury watch, cufflinks, and a tie clip. The ballroom lights caught the diamonds, making my eyes sting even more. “How do they look?” He tilted his head slightly. “Claire flew all the way to Switzerland to custom order these for me. She said for an engagement, you absolutely must have a complete set to show how much you care.” I recognized the brand. Even the cheapest set in their catalog cost seven figures. For my twenty-fifth birthday, she gave me a two-hundred-dollar belt. It didn’t even come with a brand authenticity card in the box. I heard myself let out a dry laugh. “She’s very thoughtful.” One of their friends, clearly a few drinks in, stumbled over with a grin. “Claire, look at the treatment Julian is getting! The custom Swiss set, the private drone show… you really know how to take care of a brother.” He turned to me, his words slightly slurred: “So, Evan, when are you gonna pop the question to Claire? I bet she’d go even crazier for your wedding!” Every eye in the vicinity turned to me. Claire didn’t say a word. She just stood there, swirling her champagne glass, watching me with a half-smile. It was that familiar, calculating gaze. She was probably waiting for me to show grievance, jealousy, or whatever pathetic emotion she was anticipating. After a long pause, I just smiled calmly. “We’ll see.” The truth was, I had been waiting for Claire for a long time. In the fall of our sophomore year of college, she kissed me outside my dorm and promised she would marry me the very first autumn after we graduated. But she broke that promise, year after year. Claire’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Her gaze shifted from my face and landed on Julian’s dazzling custom accessories. “My wedding will naturally be the most spectacular event of the year. As for your fiancée, Julian…” “She can’t even afford to buy you a proper engagement gift. What kind of trash are you marrying?” Julian stared at her, the end of his sentence tilting up playfully. “Claire, the girl I’m marrying is so broke she can’t even put together a decent dowry. But look at you… you spent an entire month planning my engagement party. The drones, the watch, the yacht, flying to Switzerland for my accessories…” “Those who know us say it’s just friendship. Those who don’t might think you’re the one getting engaged today, Claire.” “If you really can’t bear to see me go…” “Why don’t you try crashing the wedding today?” The group of friends erupted in laughter. “Careful, Julian! Don’t challenge Claire, she might actually do it!” “Yeah, yeah! Once Claire gets an idea in her head, there’s nothing she won’t do!” Everyone was waiting for Claire to respond, to see if she would laugh in defeat or deliberately throw back a flirtatious joke. Not a single person remembered that I was Claire’s boyfriend, standing right next to her. I set my glass down on a passing tray. Then, I turned around, walked through the room filled with laughter and flashing lights, and headed straight for the grand ballroom doors. If there was no room for me in their world, I would just show myself out. By the time Claire caught up to me, I was already at the entrance to the parking garage. She grabbed my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. “Evan! What the hell is your problem?” Her voice was low and laced with irritation. “This is Julian’s engagement party, and you just walk out in front of everyone?! Where are you putting his pride?!” I looked up at her. The neon lights from the street illuminated her from behind. That face I had loved for eight years was now twisted in an annoyed scowl, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Claire. In all these years, what is the most expensive thing you’ve ever bought me?” She froze. “That belt. Two hundred dollars. You bought it on a whim at the mall on my birthday. You told me then that ‘it’s the thought that counts, there’s no need to be flashy.’” “But Julian’s tie clip? You flew to Europe specifically for it. His watch, his cufflinks, his tie clip—how much did that cost?” My voice was dead calm. “And the drone show tonight, the yacht, his half-million-dollar watch. Claire, explain to me right now… what exactly does ‘the thought that counts’ mean?” Claire’s frown deepened. “Why are you comparing yourself to Julian? He’s my brother…” “Brother.” I let out a sharp laugh. “You buy your brother a half-million-dollar drone show, but you forced me to give my brother a five-dollar wedding gift.” The color drained from her face. “Evan, stop being unreasonable. I already explained your friend’s wedding gift to you—” “What did you explain?” I cut her off. “Every single word you said was just an excuse to justify your own actions.” She was silent for a few seconds, her expression darkening completely. Finally, she reached into her coat pocket, pulled out a sleek black credit card, and threw it at my face. The edge of the card clipped my cheekbone. It stung sharply. “You’re mad because it wasn’t enough money, right?” Her voice turned ice-cold. “Take this card. Go pay your friend back. Buy whatever the hell else you want. Is that enough? If not, I have plenty more.” I looked down at the credit card lying on the concrete and found it utterly hilarious. Even now, she still thought this was about money. Eight years. And she had never, not once, understood my actual pain. Her phone rang right at that moment. Claire glanced at the screen, her frown relaxing slightly as she answered: “Julian? I’m coming back right now… you guys keep drinking… just ignore him…” She hung up, already taking two steps back toward the venue, before pausing and glancing over her shoulder. “Take some time to cool off. Stop throwing a tantrum out here.” Her footsteps faded away. I crouched down and picked up the credit card. I flipped it over. Written on the back in permanent marker were two words: “Julian’s Fund.” It turned out that even the scraps I had to fight tooth and nail for had already belonged to him all along. I clenched the card in my hand, my fingernails digging into my palm, a dull ache spreading through me. Then, I tossed it into the trash can next to me. When I got home, my phone buzzed. It was a screenshot from Julian. I tapped it open. The timestamps were from the day of my friend Mark’s wedding. [Hahaha I’m dead, swapping five thousand for five dollars? Claire, you are ruthless.] [A bet is a bet.] [Aren’t you afraid he’ll find out?] [If he finds out, he finds out. I’ll just pay him back. But… don’t tell him it was your idea, I don’t want him getting mad at you.] I stared at those lines of text for a long, long time. My lips twitched, trying to form a smile, but I couldn’t. So the five dollars was because of a bet with him. So she “didn’t want him getting mad at you,” which is why she didn’t even bother giving me a real explanation. She would rather let me think she was a cold, heartless monster than let him take a single ounce of blame. I casually tapped into Julian’s social media feed. His newest post was a photo carousel. The center photo was a close-up of him and Claire clinking champagne glasses. The caption read: [Fake engagement party, hired actors to play the fiancée’s family. We bet on whether someone would have the guts to crash the wedding. They didn’t. But after she found out it was fake, she got completely wasted. Not sure what she’s so happy about.] Someone commented below: [Julian, you’re playing a dangerous game. Aren’t you afraid the fake wedding will become real?] He replied with a tongue-out emoji: [I just wanted to see if she would actually crash the wedding. The result? Eh, she passed.] I dropped my phone face-down on the sofa. I stood up and walked to the bedroom, ready to pack my bags. When I pulled open the drawer of the nightstand, sitting right on top was a property deed and a stack of interior design blueprints. Every style, every color was customized perfectly to her taste. I had booked a restaurant, bought a cake, and slipped the blueprints into the gift box, waiting to see the look on her face when she opened it. Would she smile? Would she freeze in shock? Would she hug me? Digging underneath the blueprints, I found a crumpled ultrasound printout. She was pregnant. I pinched the piece of paper, the edges already worn soft from me folding and unfolding it over and over again. The house and the baby. Was this enough of a reason to give her one more chance? Late that night, Claire stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. She clumsily pushed open the bedroom door, saw me sitting on the edge of the bed, and walked over, dropping to one knee in front of me and resting her forehead against my knees. “Evan,” she slurred. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have yelled at you today.” Her hand covered mine. Her palm was burning hot. “Please don’t be mad at me anymore, okay? Tomorrow is our anniversary. I’ll take you to that restaurant you’ve been wanting to go to. We’ll celebrate, just the two of us.” I looked down at the messy crown of her hair. Then, I pulled the blueprints and the ultrasound from the drawer and held them out in front of her. “Claire. I bought that house. The one you said you wanted. I had it designed exactly the way you described.” “And this—” I gently placed the ultrasound on top. Her eyes landed on the paper, and her pupils constricted. “You went through my things?” Her voice instantly turned freezing cold. “It’s been two months. Why didn’t you tell me?” She stared at the ultrasound for a few seconds, then looked up at me, a mocking sneer curving her lips. “Evan, what are you trying to pull here? Forcing me to marry you? You’re using a fetus and a house to blackmail me?” “Blackmail you? I’ve been preparing this house for almost two years. I just found out about this baby—” “Enough.” She cut me off, snatched the ultrasound, and ripped it cleanly in half with a loud RIIIIP. The pieces drifted onto the bedsheets. Then, she grabbed the blueprints and tore them to shreds as well. “I’m getting an abortion,” she said. “What did you just say?” “I said I’m getting an abortion.” She rubbed her temples, her tone growing intensely irritated. “Evan, wake up. Can you stop being so desperate to get married? Using a house and a baby to trap me? I didn’t think you’d stoop this low.” In that split second, as my eyes burned red, I suddenly remembered the college track field. She had grabbed my hands and said, “Evan, let’s get married the second we graduate. I’m terrified you’ll run away.” Now, coming from the exact same person, just eight years later, it was called being “desperate to get married.” She probably realized she had crossed a line. Her tone softened slightly, and she reached out, pulling me into a hug. “Tomorrow is our anniversary. I’ll spend the whole day with you. I already had my assistant book the restaurant and order flowers. I’ll think about the house and the baby, okay? We can talk about marriage later. Just… slowly.” I let her hold me. Her chin rested on the top of my head. Her breathing gradually leveled out, the smell of alcohol wafting up. A few minutes later, she went completely still. She had fallen asleep. I gently pulled myself out of her embrace. I stood up, carefully picking up the shredded pieces of the ultrasound from the bed, one by one, holding them in my palm. Then, I opened my suitcase and began packing my clothes. There was no tomorrow for us. And there was no “later” for a wedding. The next morning, I went to the real estate office alone to process the cancellation of the house purchase. My phone screen lit up. A message from Claire: [Let’s do the anniversary another day. Julian finally managed to score tickets to that concert he’s been dying to see, I have to go with him. You have plenty of free time anyway.] You have plenty of free time anyway… Those casually dismissive words made it clear. In her eyes, the eight years of me waiting and accommodating her were nothing more than me having nothing better to do. Right after that came a message from Julian: [Forgot to tell you, Claire and I were actually together way before you came along. Before you even knew her, we were a thing. She just said she wanted to try something new, so I let you borrow her for a few years.] [Also, just a heads-up. Those ‘vitamins’ Claire has been giving you all these years? I picked those out for her. They’re pills designed to slowly destroy male fertility. You’ve been taking them for so long, you’re probably completely sterile by now. There is zero chance she’s keeping that baby. But don’t be sad. She never intended to have your kid in the first place. You can’t lose what was never yours, right?] There was a video attached. I tapped it open. The camera shook slightly. Julian’s voice was thick with tears: “Claire… the doctor said I might never be able to have kids.” From off-camera, Claire’s voice sounded muffled but tender: “Don’t cry. I’m right here.” “Are you going to leave me because of this?” “No. Don’t overthink it. I promise, I will never have anyone else’s child.” The video ended. I stared at the black screen, my fingertips ice cold. Eight years. I thought she was being thoughtful and caring. Every time she handed me a glass of warm water and my daily “vitamins,” she was ensuring I would never be a permanent fixture in her life. And the most pathetic part? I had actually hesitated, wondering if I should give her another chance because of the baby. Julian sent another file. I opened it. It was a folder containing over nine thousand photos. Every single one was of him and Claire. They had trekked through deserts, scuba-dived in the deep sea, hugged under sunsets, and kissed on the rim of a volcano. It looked like they had lived out every grand, passionate romance in the world. In my eight years with Claire, I could count the number of photos we had taken together on one hand. She always said she hated taking pictures. She said being in front of a camera made her wildly uncomfortable. It turned out that excuse just didn’t apply to him. Tears hit the screen, one after another, blurring their smiling faces into distorted puddles of water. I turned off my phone and shoved it into my bag. Sitting at the signing desk in the real estate office, the fluorescent lights overhead were blindingly bright. The agent said softly, “Mr. Davis, if you are confirming the cancellation of the purchase, please sign here.” I took the pen. I remembered her dragging me through the cherry blossoms eight years ago, panting as she promised to “hold my hand forever.” I remembered the tips of her ears turning red the first time she kissed me. I remembered her saying, “The first autumn after we graduate, I’ll marry you.” Those memories bled together like old photographs left in the rain—blurring, fading, washing away. Until there was nothing left but a blank void. When the pen tip touched the paper, my hand trembled slightly. I finished signing, then slowly walked across the real estate office lobby. I leaned heavily against the wall, a dull, aching weight crushing my chest. As I passed the waiting area, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my phone light up. Julian had sent another video three hours ago. I tapped it open. It was from the concert. The jumbotron had just cut to the audience. Julian turned his head and kissed the corner of Claire’s mouth. The entire arena screamed. From off-camera, his voice carried a triumphant laugh: “We’ve known each other for over twenty years. What’s mine will always be mine. She can’t run away.” I turned off the screen and kept walking. As I rounded the corner, I nearly collided head-on with two people. Claire was supporting Julian’s arm, whispering something to him, a folder of documents in her other hand. She looked up, saw me, and froze. “Evan? What are you doing here—” Julian seamlessly interjected: “Claire came with me to look at properties. She said she wanted to buy me a house. Didn’t expect to run into you. What a coincidence.” I stopped walking. The harsh white lights of the hallway glared down on us. I looked at her, and I smiled. “I came to take care of that house you didn’t want—” “I canceled the purchase.” “Claire, we’re done.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533241”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day my wealthy biological parents came to pick me up, I let out a heavy sigh. “Never mind,” I said. “You guys definitely prefer the daughter you raised. If I go back, I’ll just be a nuisance. Let me just fend for myself out here.” My parents laughed awkwardly. “How could you say that? You are our biological daughter.” After getting into the car, I spent the entire ride scribbling in my little notebook. My mom leaned over, curious. “What are you writing, sweetheart?” “I’m pre-planning all the ways your adopted daughter is going to try and frame me.” The pity play: Make my parents think I’m bullying her. Frame me for stealing. …… My parents repeatedly promised that nothing like that would ever happen. That was, until Chloe threw herself down the stairs and frantically claimed I pushed her. My parents immediately spun around, raising their hands to hit me. I calmly checked off the “pity play” box in my notebook. Remembering my warning from the car ride, they abruptly pulled their hands back. “Let’s check the security cameras. If you really pushed her, we will punish you.” [Chapter 1] Chloe’s sobbing came to a screeching halt. She shrieked, “Cameras?!” I nodded and pointed to the small camera aimed directly at the staircase. Because I had anticipated these exact difficulties, I demanded my parents install cameras before I even agreed to move in, just to guarantee my innocence. They had accused me of making a mountain out of a molehill back then. Little did they know, the cameras would prove useful within forty-eight hours. Chloe, the girl who had taken my place for fifteen years, had no idea they were there. If she had known, she wouldn’t have chosen to throw herself down the stairs. “Mom, Dad, I can’t believe you don’t trust me. It hurts… it hurts so much. I think I’m dying…” Chloe clutched her slightly bruised ankle, weeping beautifully. My mother’s tears instantly fell. My father scooped Chloe up in his arms and said anxiously, “Let’s get you to the hospital!” I stood to the side and asked softly, “Mom, Dad, are we still checking the footage?” My mother stayed silent, but my father lashed out, “Maya, do you have any empathy at all?” “Your sister is hurt like this, and you’re still obsessing over security footage?!” Hearing this, my mother glared at me through her tears. “Exactly, Maya! Whether Chloe fell on her own or you pushed her, she’s injured now. You should be checking on her. She is your sister, after all.” I didn’t understand. Why should I care about someone who was openly hostile toward me? Besides, falling down three steps wasn’t going to kill her. I sighed, watching my parents slam the door as they rushed her out. I sat on the stairs, rewatching the security footage on my phone. I clipped the exact moment Chloe threw herself down the steps and saved the video. My older brother, Liam, walked through the front door carrying a bag of takeout. “Chloe! Look what your big brother brought you!” He scanned the room. Not seeing Chloe, he asked the housekeeper, “Maria, where’s my sister?” Maria pointed in my direction. “Young Master, your biological sister is right there.” Liam gave me a cold, dismissive glance. “I only have one sister, and that’s Chloe. Don’t make that mistake again.” “Where’s Chloe? Did something happen?” Under Liam’s relentless questioning, Maria finally told him the truth. “What?! You’re saying Chloe fell down the stairs?” Liam immediately pointed a finger at me. “Did you do this?!” I opened the video on my phone and held it up to his face. “She threw herself down to frame me.” Liam swatted my phone away, sending it crashing to the floor. “Enough! If you hadn’t come back, Chloe wouldn’t be feeling so insecure and terrified of losing us!” “Falling down the stairs… she must be in so much pain…” Liam’s eyes grew red. He shot me a look of pure hatred and ordered his driver to take him to the hospital. I honestly didn’t expect this. Even with irrefutable proof of my innocence, no one stood on my side. I couldn’t help but sigh. Blood ties really were nothing compared to fifteen years of companionship. Maria walked over to comfort me, saying the two siblings grew up together and were very close, and told me not to take it to heart. I shook my head. There was nothing to be sad about. I had predicted all of this anyway. Once you mentally rehearse a tragedy in your head beforehand, it doesn’t hurt when it actually happens. That evening, I stood by the window and watched Chloe arrive home, riding on my father’s back, flanked protectively by my mother and brother. Chloe looked up and met my gaze. She offered a triumphant smirk and said loudly, “Mom, Dad, Liam… promise me I’m still the one you love the most.” My parents immediately nodded in agreement. “Of course, of course. We love our Chloe the most.” “Don’t ever do anything silly like that again. Even with Maya back, our love for you will never change.” [Chapter 2] My mother came to my room to discuss transferring me to Chloe’s class at the elite prep school. “With your sister there, I’ll feel much better knowing someone is looking out for you.” Maybe it was because of the cameras in the house. Lately, Chloe hadn’t pulled any stunts. In fact, she pretended to be incredibly caring toward me. Even though there were five chicken drumsticks on the dinner table, she insisted on placing her piece into my bowl. Looking at me with faux concern, she said: “My sister suffered out there for fifteen years because of me. I want to give you my piece of chicken. I’ll just eat some of the broth.” Her fake, overly-dramatic acting made me lose my appetite, but my parents and my cheap older brother ate it right up. Every time Chloe gave up something nice for me, my mother would say approvingly, “Our Chloe has grown up so much. She’s really acting like a big sister.” Liam would loudly defend her: “Chloe, this wasn’t your fault! Here, take my chicken.” I pursed my lips and asked with genuine concern, “Is the Sterling family going bankrupt? Why are we passing a single piece of chicken around like we’re starving?” My dad slammed his chopsticks down. “Watch your mouth! Maya, Chloe is extending an olive branch. It’s bad enough you don’t appreciate it, but to say our family is going bankrupt? How ungrateful can you be!” I looked down at the chicken drumstick in my bowl, which was completely covered in spicy chili oil. “I’m not eating this,” I said coldly. They could never remember that I couldn’t eat spicy food. The entire table was filled with Chloe’s favorite spicy stir-fries. Thinking I was just throwing a tantrum, my dad started yelling at me. Chloe added fuel to the fire. “Dad… Maya hasn’t taken a single bite. Let me get her a new bowl of rice. I don’t care if she yells at me or hits me. After all, I stole fifteen years of her life. It’s only right that she hates me.” “Don’t you dare! Let her starve!” And so I actually starved for two days, right up until Grandmother Sterling came to visit and noticed how terrible I looked. She scolded my father relentlessly. “You are so cruel! This is your own flesh and blood!” My dad hurriedly explained, “Mom, we haven’t mistreated Maya! Ask her yourself. Maya, have we mistreated you?” I looked at the sea of red, spicy dishes on the dining table and stated calmly, “I can’t eat spicy food.” My dad froze. But Liam said dismissively, “Just rinse it in some water. Why are you acting like such a victim?” He was right. I didn’t feel like a victim at all, because no one cared about my feelings anyway. Even though I told my mom I didn’t want to be in Chloe’s class, she still insisted I give it a try. She told me not to be so pessimistic. We were family, and Chloe would never hurt me. But on my third day of school, I was framed for stealing. “Maya, you were the only one in the classroom during P.E. Did you accidentally take Brittany’s necklace?” Chloe walked over, her face a mask of worry. “It wasn’t me,” I shook my head, but the surrounding students looked at me with clear disbelief. As a transfer student, I was already easily ostracized, let alone with Chloe actively fanning the flames. Originally, no one suspected me, until Chloe started dropping leading comments one by one. “I heard she used to pick through the trash.” “No wonder she smells.” “Isn’t she Chloe’s sister?” “They say she’s a sister, but who knows? They look nothing alike.” Because my parents were afraid Chloe would feel slighted, they never publicly announced my true identity. This led everyone to believe Chloe was the biological daughter, and I was just some distant, poor relative of the Sterling family. Hearing this, I replied, “I am not Chloe’s sister.” “Her biological mother swapped us at birth, leaving me homeless for fifteen years. I have absolutely no relation to Chloe. I am the true daughter of the Sterling family.” Chloe’s face drained of color. She looked as if she might faint, her tears falling gracefully. The next second, someone slapped me across the face. “Maya Sterling! I can’t believe this is how you bully Chloe when adults aren’t around. You disgust me!” [Chapter 3] Liam glared at me with absolute loathing, then pulled Chloe into his arms, comforting her gently. His attitude indirectly influenced how my classmates viewed me. “Do you really believe anything Maya says?” “I bet she’s not just a thief, she’s a pathological liar.” “Exactly! If Maya was Liam’s biological sister, why would he slap her?” Seeing this, Chloe sniffled. “Maya… I know you hate me. But Brittany’s necklace is worth tens of thousands of dollars. We really need to get to the bottom of this.” “Tens of thousands of dollars?” I looked up, genuinely surprised. Brittany glared at me. “Yes! So give it back right now, or I’m going to search your bag!” I pulled out my phone and dialed 911 directly. “Hello, police? My classmate lost a piece of jewelry worth tens of thousands of dollars. Yes, Elite Prep School, Junior Class A.” From dialing to hanging up, it took less than thirty seconds. Chloe shrieked, “Why did you call the police?!” “A highly valuable item was stolen. Why wouldn’t I call the police?” “Or… did you guys personally see me steal it, which is why you’re so absolutely certain it’s in my bag?” The police arrived. So did my parents and Brittany’s mother. “Why did you bring my expensive necklace to school in the first place?!” Brittany’s mom scolded her angrily. Brittany glanced at Chloe, and, staying incredibly loyal, didn’t sell her out. Instead, she firmly insisted that I had stolen it. I took out my little notebook, checked off the “Framed for stealing” box, and looked up at my mother. “Mom, didn’t you say the bad things I predicted would never happen?” My mother froze for a moment, then gripped my shoulders and stated firmly, “Exactly. My daughter has everything she could ever want. She has no reason to steal from anyone.” It was the first time I had ever felt what it was like to be trusted. Tears threatened to well up in my eyes. But under Brittany’s aggressive demands, the police still searched my bag. And they actually found her necklace inside. The room erupted in gasps. My dad whipped around and slapped me hard across the face. It was even harder than Liam’s slap. My ears were ringing. He pointed a trembling finger at the necklace, his lips quivering. “You said you didn’t steal it! Then tell me what the hell that is?!” Liam chimed in sarcastically, “Maya, have you still not shaken off those filthy habits you picked up from the streets?” “Maya… did you really take it?” More than my father’s slap, the doubt and crushing disappointment in my mother’s eyes pierced my heart. The police officer stopped my dad, noting that there were no fingerprints on the necklace and warning them not to condemn a child so quickly. Chloe immediately spoke up. “Oh… no wonder you have a pair of gloves in your backpack. You wore them so you wouldn’t leave prints.” Everyone looked at me with deep contempt and disgust. I didn’t bother explaining. I simply unclipped a barrette from my hair and handed it to the police officer. “This is my micro-camera. You can check the footage.” The video clearly showed that I hadn’t taken a single step near Brittany’s desk. On the contrary, she had paraded the necklace in front of me several times. When I went to the restroom, I took off my hair clip and left it in my pencil case. The screen on the playback was pitch black, but the audio was crystal clear. “Will this work? Will people actually believe she stole it?” “Of course they will. Once Maya is branded a thief, she’ll be completely ostracized.” “Okay… but you have to promise I’ll get my necklace back. If I lose it, my mom will kill me.” “Relax. If we can’t get it back, I’ll buy you ten just like it.” Chloe and Brittany’s conversation was recorded perfectly. Their faces instantly drained of color. Brittany was dragged over by her ear by her mother to apologize to me. Chloe hid in Liam’s arms, trembling uncontrollably. In disbelief, my mother raised her hand to strike Chloe, but Liam blocked her. “Mom, if you want to hit someone, hit me!” My mother wept, her hand dropping limply to her side. “Chloe, why would you do this to your sister? She is my biological daughter!” Chloe sobbed, claiming she had a momentary lapse in judgment and promising she would never do it again. And just like that, the issue was “peacefully resolved.” I was the only one standing there with a swollen, red handprint on my face, looking utterly ridiculous. My dad stepped forward awkwardly, trying to pull me into a hug. I took a step back, my gaze sweeping coldly across their faces, and stated my demand: “I want to transfer classes.” [Chapter 4] After realizing they had wronged me, my parents started treating me with extreme caution. I saw my mom keeping a memo on her phone of all my likes and dislikes. Even Liam started showing concern. When he came home, he’d remember to bring me a gift. The dining table was finally filled with dishes I could actually eat. I pulled out my little notebook less and less. Slowly, I began to open up, telling my parents about my past. When I told them how Chloe’s biological mother abandoned me in the mountains, and how I was found by an old woman—my Nana Rose—gathering firewood, my mom held me tight, crying onto my shoulder. She promised she would never let me get hurt again. They organized a lavish Welcome Home Gala for me, inviting countless high-society elites to formally introduce me. My parents stood on either side of me on the stage, holding my hands, ready to make the announcement. Suddenly, the massive screen behind us flickered. The heartwarming slideshow of my baby photos was cut off. Chloe’s face appeared on the screen. She gave a weak, fragile smile: “Mom, Dad… I know my sister suffered out there for fifteen years. It’s only right that you treat her well. It doesn’t matter if I’m neglected…” Through tears, she poured out all her grievances. She was truly a master manipulator. In just a few minutes, she painted herself as the understanding, unloved child, and framed me as the arrogant, demanding monster who had ruined the family. Then, she offered a tragic smile. “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to make things hard for you. I just hope that in my next life, I can be your real daughter.” A razor blade pressed against her wrist. Blood spilled out. My mother let out a hysterical scream. “No! Chloe!” The ballroom erupted into absolute chaos. My parents dropped my hands and frantically pulled out their phones. I stood frozen on the stage, instinctively reaching into my bag for my little notebook to check off a box. I… I actually had predicted that the fake daughter would use a suicide attempt to force me out. Liam lunged forward, snatching the notebook from my hands and ripping it to shreds. His eyes were bloodshot as he glared at me: “At a time like this, you’re still playing with your stupid notebook?!” “Maya, do you have no heart at all?! Haven’t we treated you well enough lately? Why did you have to push Chloe to suicide?!” Feeling the disgusted, judgmental, and curious stares of all the guests, I took a deep breath and defended myself. “I never pushed her. She’s the one who couldn’t tolerate my existence.” “Enough! Both of you shut up!” my dad snapped, glaring at me. I could read his eyes perfectly. He was thinking that he wished he had never brought me back. Then, all three of them rushed off to find Chloe, abandoning me completely alone on the stage. I don’t know how I made it back home. All I knew was that when I opened my phone, I was the number one trending topic online. [True Heiress of the Sterling Family Bullies Adopted Sister into Suicide After Returning] Clueless netizens flooded the comments, attacking me, calling me evil. They even found my personal accounts, dug up my selfies, and photoshopped them into funeral portraits. When I went to school, people threw rotten eggs at me. After someone dumped a bucket of red paint on me, I stood trembling and called my mother, begging her to release a statement to clear my name. But my mom just said, “Maya, Chloe’s mental state is very fragile right now. Let’s wait until she recovers to discuss your situation, okay?” “But Mom, you know I didn’t do any of the things the internet is accusing me of!” Liam shouted at me through the phone: “Chloe literally slit her wrists! Do you have any empathy?! So what if you’re getting some hate online? If you’re truly innocent, you shouldn’t care what people say!” The call hung up. My face was already drenched in tears. The phone rang again. My mother pleaded, “Maya, please just come to the hospital and apologize to Chloe. If you don’t, she refuses to eat. She hasn’t eaten anything since last night.” I didn’t say a single word. I silently hung up and blocked all their numbers. I packed my things and left that house without a second of hesitation.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533234”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chapter 1 I went to the hospital where my brother works to get treated for a severe allergic reaction, only to cross paths with a nursing intern who harbored a massive crush on him. After overhearing what she thought was an “intimate” conversation between me and my brother, she became intensely jealous. Coincidentally, my brother walked in at that exact moment and, out of pure habit, reached out to feel my forehead to check for a fever. That was all it took. She completely cemented me as her ultimate rival, her eyes practically shooting daggers at me. I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. Just as I opened my mouth to explain the situation, she suddenly shrieked and violently slapped my brother’s hand away. “Dr. Carter, break up with her! Don’t let this filthy woman deceive you! This isn’t an allergic reaction!” “She has… she has a rash all over her backside!” “Those are the classic symptoms of secondary syphilis! She has an STD!” 01 The entire ER fell into a deathly, suffocating silence. Every single pair of eyes in the room snapped toward me, locking onto my exposed back and… my half-pulled-down pants. My brain practically exploded. All the blood in my body rushed violently to my face. “What the fuck kind of bullshit are you spewing?!” I was the first to react, my entire body shaking with fury. I whipped around to face the intern, Chloe, my eyes burning red. “What is your name?! What is your badge number?! Do you realize you are committing blatant defamation?!” Chloe visibly flinched at my explosive rage, huge tears instantly spilling down her cheeks. But she stubbornly refused to back down. Weeping hysterically, she turned to look at my brother, Liam, who was currently standing frozen in absolute shock. The look in her eyes was a mix of righteous indignation, agonizing heartbreak, and a bizarre, delusional sense of… “saving” him. “Dr. Carter! I’m not making this up! I spent four years in nursing school, I know what I’m looking at!” She sobbed as if her heart was breaking, pointing a trembling finger at me. “I just didn’t want to see you get played by a woman like this! Her personal life is clearly a disaster, how could she ever be good enough for you?! Look at her, she’s still trying to lie her way out of it!” Liam’s face was a perfect portrait of ‘Who am I and what dimension have I stepped into?’ I violently yanked my pants up, not even caring about the searing pain of the fabric scraping against my rash-covered skin. I stood up, locking my eyes onto Chloe like a predator. “Say it again,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Tell me exactly what disease I have.” “I…” Chloe shrank back under my lethal glare. But catching a glimpse of Liam standing next to her, she suddenly found a surge of pathetic courage and puffed out her chest. “Don’t you know exactly what you’ve been doing behind his back?” “Okay,” I let out a dark, furious laugh. “Excellent.” I wasn’t going to waste another second arguing with her. I pulled out my phone and, right in front of her face, started dialing. “Hello, 911? I need to report a crime. There is someone here publicly committing slander and defamation, violating my rights…” “Wait, wait, wait! Miss Miller! Please, let’s not escalate this!” A middle-aged man wearing an “Attending Physician” badge sprinted into the room, clearly having heard the commotion. One look at the situation, and then a glance at Liam’s livid face, and he looked like he was about to pass out. “Dr. Carter, what… what exactly is going on here?” Liam spoke, his voice completely flat. “Dr. Evans, this nurse just announced to the entire ER that my ‘darling’ has secondary syphilis.” Dr. Evans’s face drained of all color. He whipped around to face Chloe, practically grinding his teeth together. He leaned in and hissed furiously, “Chloe! What the hell are you doing?! Diagnosing a patient by eye without a single lab result?! Do you think you’re a walking X-ray machine?!” “I… I…” Chloe’s tears flowed even harder. She looked desperately toward Liam for help. “Dr. Carter, I was genuinely just trying to protect you! I…” “Shut your mouth!” Dr. Evans looked like his head was going to explode. He knew perfectly well that Liam had serious influence in the hospital administration. If this blew up, their entire department was going to get dragged through the mud. “Apologize to Miss Miller and Dr. Carter immediately!” “Do you want to lose your residency offer or what?!” The words “residency offer” clearly hit Chloe’s kill switch. She shuddered violently, biting her lower lip. Her face was a mask of pure humiliation and bitter resentment. With extreme, agonizing reluctance, she forced herself to bow to me. “I’m… sorry.” Her voice was as quiet as a mosquito, but the venomous hatred in her eyes looked like she wanted to swallow me alive. “I don’t want your apology,” I cut her off, sweeping a razor-sharp glare across both her and Dr. Evans. “I am going to get a comprehensive STD screening right here, right now, at this hospital.” I paused, enunciating every single syllable. “If the results show that I am completely clean… today, I am not only suing you, Chloe, for defamation, but I am also suing this hospital for gross negligence and enabling an intern to spread malicious rumors about patients!” Cold sweat instantly broke out on Dr. Evans’s forehead. “Miss Miller, please calm down,” he practically begged, plastering on a placating smile. “This is an absolute misunderstanding! Chloe, you are suspended from clinical duties immediately. Go home and write a ten-page apology and reflection! You will be formally reprimanded by the administration!” I was sick of this circus. I turned on my heel and walked out. Liam hurried after me, quickly getting me registered and rushing my blood work. I drew my own blood. I administered my own IV. By the time I dragged my rash-covered, exhausted, and furiously pissed-off body back to my apartment, it was the middle of the night. I choked down my allergy meds and passed out in a heavy, miserable sleep. And for the entire time I was asleep, the internet was relentlessly tearing me apart. When I finally opened my eyes, it was to the sound of Liam’s phone calls blowing up my device. “Hello…” my voice was raspy like sandpaper. “Thank god you finally answered! Open TikTok right now! It’s a massive disaster!” My heart skipped a beat. I opened the app. My DMs and notifications were at 999+, lagging my phone so hard it looked like a slideshow. The number one trending video in my city was staring me right in the face. In the video, a girl wearing medical scrubs was crying hysterically to the camera. It was Chloe. The text overlay on the video read: [I just wanted to be a good nurse. Is that really a crime?] She didn’t name names, but the background was unmistakably the hallway of the hospital’s ER. Between choked sobs, she spoke: “…I was just trying to be a good person and warn that gentleman that his ‘girlfriend’s’ symptoms were highly suspicious. If she really had that kind of disease, it’s highly contagious. But I never expected his girlfriend to react so violently, insisting on filing a formal complaint against me…” “…Now, just to sweep things under the rug, management suspended me and is making me write a formal apology. I’ve studied nursing for four years, and I honestly have no idea what I did wrong…” “…Maybe I shouldn’t have been so nosy. But I couldn’t just stand by and watch that poor man get played like a fool. I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m still the best little sheep!” That last line, “the best little sheep,” was a tag she frequently used for herself. The comment section was an absolute warzone. 02 [Don’t cry, sweetie! You did nothing wrong! You’re just too kind for this world!] [Some women these days sleep around like crazy, and we’re not even allowed to point it out?] [That patient definitely filed a complaint because you hit the nail on the head and she panicked! Sending hugs to the little sheep!] [Holy shit, is this St. Jude’s Hospital? I think I was actually there yesterday! That woman was acting like a total psycho!] [Internet, do your thing! Find out who this woman is! Don’t let her ruin that handsome guy’s life!] I was shaking uncontrollably from pure rage. What an absolute masterclass in twisting the truth and playing the victim! She was even actively replying to comments, painting vivid, insulting pictures of my appearance. [The woman looked sick and gross, but her temper was absolutely vile. I have no idea how she managed to trick the guy standing next to her. He was incredibly handsome and classy, they were literally worlds apart!] [I heard that handsome guy is actually one of the administrative directors at our hospital! He’s such a genuinely nice person! Ugh!] My blood was boiling. I immediately started typing furiously in the comment section: [I am the “patient” you’re talking about, and here is exactly what happened…] I barely got halfway through typing out the real story when an icy system notification popped up on my screen: [Your account has been restricted due to multiple user reports and community guideline violations. You have been forcibly logged out.] My vision went black for a second. When I recovered, I immediately contacted customer support, only to receive an automated reply stating that appeals would take three to five business days to process. Three to five business days?! By then, my life would be completely ruined! Liam was panicking on the other end of the line: “Serena, I already went to the hospital director! They promised to issue an official statement clearing this up immediately!” “Liam,” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “Don’t. Right now, you are the ‘poor, deceived handsome guy.’ The more you try to defend me, the more the internet will think I have ‘deep pockets’ and am using my ‘connections’ to bully a poor little intern.” “Then what the hell are we supposed to do? Just let her throw this toxic sludge all over you?!” I hung up the phone, staring intensely at Chloe’s tear-stained face on the screen. I suddenly realized that the way she looked at Liam in the ER last night was incredibly bizarre. That wasn’t the look an intern gives a senior administrative colleague. That was… obsession. Jealousy. Bitter resentment. She kept repeating phrases like “for your own good” and “she’s not good enough for you.” Why would a brand-new intern care so intensely about my brother’s love life? Unless… she already knew him. An absurd, wild theory flashed like lightning through my brain. I abruptly sat up and dialed Liam’s number again. “Liam, I need you to do something for me. Right now. I need you to log into the hospital’s internal staff forum.” “Huh? Right now? Why?” “Don’t ask questions. Just search for a specific thread.” I gave him a few keywords based on a fuzzy memory. “Search: ‘Dr. Carter,’ ‘girlfriend,’ ‘not good enough.’” The other end of the line went silent. As a hospital administrator, Liam had unrestricted access to the internal network. Five minutes later, he called me back. His voice was laced with utter shock and disbelief. “Serena… how… how the hell did you know about this?” He sent me a screenshot. It was a thread from three months ago, posted in the forum’s “Anonymous Gossip” section. Title: [Confession] Dr. Carter in Admin is such an amazing guy, but is his girlfriend way too high-maintenance? Body: [OP is a new intern. Today in the cafeteria, I saw Dr. Carter eating his lunch. His girlfriend (I think that’s who it was) called him, and he literally had to drop his food and run all the way down to the lobby café just to buy her some limited-edition strawberry frappuccino.] [Last week, I also saw his girlfriend making him carry her bags around the hospital courtyard. She was bossing him around so much, but Dr. Carter has such a good temper, he just smiled the whole time.] [Plus, I heard his girlfriend burns through money like crazy, and Dr. Carter practically gives her his entire paycheck.] [What is the appeal of a woman like this? Why would Dr. Carter ever settle for her? I honestly feel so bad for him!] The replies below were all over the place. [OP, do you have a crush on Dr. Carter or something?] [Hahaha, Dr. Carter is practically the hospital heartthrob. Half the staff has a crush on him.] [I’ve seen that woman too. She’s definitely pretty, but she looks like a total bitch.] And the OP, when accused of having a crush, frantically replied with a massive paragraph: [I do NOT! Stop making things up! I just feel bad for Dr. Carter! He’s such an incredible person, why should he have to get played by a woman like that?!] I stared at the screenshot, my hands and feet turning ice cold. Three months ago, I came to the hospital to get my teeth cleaned. Liam bought me a drink, but he got the wrong flavor, so I told him to go back down and get the right one. Last week, my mom told us to go pick up her physical exam results. I did some shopping on the way, so I made him carry my bags. As for his paycheck… his debit card was confiscated by my mom ages ago because he’s terrible with money. I hold onto it now, and I essentially give him a monthly allowance. I took a deep breath, my voice dropping to a freezing temperature. “Liam, trace the IP address of the original poster.” Liam: “…Serena, the IP is pinging from Intern Dorm Building A.” “Building A… who lives there?” “…Dermatology interns, and a few from Internal Medicine.” Liam paused. “Chloe… lives in Building A.” 03 I laughed. I laughed so hard tears almost pricked my eyes. This wasn’t a medical misdiagnosis. This wasn’t a random, unlucky encounter. This was a premeditated, deliberate hit job fueled by an unrequited crush. Chloe didn’t misread my symptoms. She had already “diagnosed” me as a disease. She wasn’t trying to “treat” me; she was trying to “punish” me. She wanted to punish me, the “bitch” who was “not good enough” for Liam, the “horrible woman” who was “tricking” him. Alright, then. You want to settle this on the internet? Right at that exact moment, a new friend request popped up on my phone. The profile picture was Chloe’s innocent, pitiful face. I accepted it. Her messages instantly flooded in. [Miss Serena Miller, I assume? I honestly never expected things to blow up this massively online.] [I already know I made a mistake, and I’ve begged for forgiveness. But as a medical professional, let me give you a piece of advice: a girl should respect her own body. Maybe you shouldn’t let your personal life get so messy.] That sickeningly arrogant, condescending tone… she honestly thought she was some kind of savior. I stared at those words, so angry I couldn’t help but laugh. I started typing out a furious string of curses, but my finger paused over the send button. What was the point of cursing her out? It would only give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me. I deleted the paragraph of profanity and calmly typed a single sentence. [Are you at the hospital right now?] Chloe clearly hadn’t anticipated that response. After a few seconds, she just replied with a question mark. Seeing that question mark, a cold, predatory smirk curled on my lips. I didn’t bother replying. I just dialed Liam’s number. “Liam, I need a favor.” “Anything, Serena. Just say it.” “I need you to go live on your TikTok account.” “Huh?” “And title the stream: [The Truth About the “Little Sheep’s” Patient Slander: The Guy Involved Speaks Out.]” 04 Early the next morning, Liam and I walked back into the hospital. Liam had a decent following on TikTok—a few tens of thousands of followers he’d gained from posting gym videos and administrative behind-the-scenes content. The moment the livestream started and the title was pinned, thousands of viewers flooded in. The vast majority were people who had eaten up the “Little Sheep” drama from the night before, rushing in specifically to trash the “slutty girlfriend” and the “blind, pathetic boyfriend.” [Ew, this bitch actually showed her face at the hospital again?] [Is this guy insane? He’s so hot, why is he defending a chick with stage-two syphilis?] [You city people are absolutely wild!] I completely ignored the chat and walked straight into the main ER lobby. Sure enough, Chloe was there. She wasn’t wearing her scrubs. She was dressed in a pristine white sundress, chatting and laughing with another nurse, completely unfazed by her supposed “suspension.” When she saw me, she froze for a second, then her lips twisted into an arrogant, condescending smirk. But when her eyes shifted past me and landed on Liam—who was walking right beside me, holding his phone up and actively livestreaming—all the color violently drained from her face. In a fraction of a second, her expression morphed into one of pure, tearful desperation. She practically sprinted over to us, bowing ninety degrees over and over again. “Dr. Carter! Miss Miller! I’m so sorry! I’m so, so sorry!” “I swear, I had no idea the internet would react like that… I shouldn’t have exposed your illness. I was just so terrified you were going to infect other people…” While she cried, she kept stealing sideways glances at Liam. Her performance was Oscar-worthy. The livestream chat instantly exploded. [Did you hear that?! She admitted it’s an ‘illness’ and not an ‘allergy’!] [I’m gonna be sick. This bitch actually dragged her ‘boyfriend’ here to cause a scene?] I swallowed down the tidal wave of rage in my chest and coldly cut off her pathetic little performance. “Illness? Great.” I held up a manila folder for the camera to see. “Last night’s blood test results are finished. They’re right in here.” Chloe’s sobbing abruptly stopped. “But I know exactly what people will say. They’ll say we used our ‘connections’ to force the hospital to doctor the results.” I turned to the camera. I turned to face the growing crowd of onlookers in the lobby. “So, right now, in front of the entire internet and everyone in this room, I am going to register as a patient again, draw my blood again, and run a complete, comprehensive STD screening!” “And that’s not all.” I turned to Liam. Liam knew the drill. He immediately dialed a number on speakerphone. “Hello, Notary Public Office? I need an expedited, on-site notarization service immediately…” “Wait…” Chloe’s face went from pale to ghostly white. Right at that moment, Dr. Evans—the attending from yesterday—rushed onto the scene, his face dark with fury. “This is absurd! What do you think this hospital is? A reality TV set?!” He was clearly trying to shut the whole thing down. Liam didn’t say a word. He walked right up to Dr. Evans and whispered something in his ear. I only caught a few fragments: “…the hospital director…”, “…internal forum…”, “…malicious defamation…” Dr. Evans’s face rapidly shifted from white, to green, and finally to a sick, ashen gray. He glared at Chloe with a look so lethal he looked ready to swallow her whole. Finally, speaking through tightly clenched teeth, he forced out three words: “Let her test.” I took Liam’s phone, walked up to the counter, paid the fees, and registered. I stared blankly into the camera, completely ignoring the toxic sludge pouring into the live chat. Blood drawn. Urine sample taken. Every single test administered… The notary officials arrived quickly. Two staff members set up professional cameras, recording the entire chain of custody. Throughout the entire process, I remained completely, chillingly calm. Chloe tried to find excuses to slip away multiple times, but Liam stood blocking the exit of the lab like a bouncer, physically turning her back around every single time. Her face grew paler by the minute, panic finally bleeding into her eyes. When all the tests were done, I crossed my arms and sat in the hospital lobby, waiting. The viewer count on the livestream had broken 100,000. Everyone was waiting for the grand finale of this circus. Two hours later, I was handed the freshly printed stack of lab reports. I didn’t even look at them. I handed the entire stack, along with the notarized documents, directly to Dr. Evans. “Dr. Evans,” I offered a polite, razor-sharp smile. “You are the attending physician. You are the expert here. Do me a favor and read my test results out loud for the hundreds of thousands of people watching this stream.” Dr. Evans’s white coat was completely soaked in sweat. He took the stack of papers, his hands trembling violently. He cleared his throat and started reading, page by page. “Complete Blood Count… Normal.” “Liver Function… Normal.” “Kidney Function… Normal.” … He read quickly, right up until he reached the very last page. His voice suddenly completely vanished. He looked up, shooting me an incredibly bizarre look, then looked back down at the paper. His eyes were filled with intense hesitation and a sliver of… pity? The livestream chat instantly picked up on the sudden shift. [Why did he stop reading? What does the last page say?!] [Say it already! The suspense is killing me!] Under the aggressive urging of over a hundred thousand viewers, the doctor swallowed hard. He looked dead into the camera lens and forced the words out of his mouth: “Treponema Pallidum Antibodies… Positive (+).” “Diagnosis: Syphilis. Stage Two.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533235”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 My next-door neighbor was going out of town for a week and asked me to check on her eighty-year-old mother every day. I was just about to agree when several lines of glowing text drifted across my vision. [Don’t agree under any circumstances! The old lady passed away days ago, but the neighbor is keeping it a secret.] [She is waiting for you to walk in so she can pin the entire thing on you.] [The old lady’s bank account is missing twenty thousand dollars. She will claim you stole that too.] [A fresh college graduate, framed for manslaughter and grand theft. Your dream job will be ruined because of this.] The neighbor pressed the keys into my palm. “I’m counting on you, Naomi.” I took a step back, my hands turning cold. “I’m so sorry, Brenda, but I have to go out of town for work too.” Brenda froze. “Why?” The warm smile on her face stiffened. I gripped the phone in my pocket, my fingertips icy. “It’s a last-minute assignment from my company. There’s nothing I can do.” “Wait, Naomi, listen to me.” Brenda took a step closer, her voice growing urgent. “My boss specifically arranged this business trip for me. I can’t get out of it. You have to help me.” “I’m sorry, Brenda. My trip is already set in stone. I really can’t help.” My mind was in complete chaos as I spoke. We had been neighbors for a year, and Brenda had always been incredibly kind to me. When I first moved in and didn’t even have my kitchen set up, she brought over a plate of hot, homemade dumplings. When it rained while I was at work, she gathered the laundry drying on my balcony, folding it neatly and leaving it by my door. When I had a terrible fever, I called her at two in the morning, and she drove me to the emergency room without a single complaint, staying with me until dawn. I couldn’t understand. Why would someone who had been so good to me want to ruin my life? The glowing text continued to drift before my eyes. [Stop overthinking it. She was only nice to you because you were useful to her.] [Think back. Every single time she did you a favor, didn’t she casually mention that you should go check on her mother?] A cold dread washed over me. It was true. Every time she brought me food, helped with a package, or brought in my laundry, she would always smile and add, “My mom is home alone. If you have some free time, go keep her company for a bit.” For an entire year, I had gone to her apartment every two or three days to wash dishes, sweep the floors, and chat with her mother. [See? You were just a free nanny. She used a few cheap meals to secure a whole year of free labor.] My back felt cold. Brenda was still pushing. “Naomi, it’s just one week. Five days, even. Can’t you push your trip back?” “I can’t, Brenda. I really can’t.” She stared at me for a long moment, then suddenly pulled out her phone. A notification pinged on my screen. It was a transfer of one thousand dollars. “Take this,” Brenda said quickly. “Just help me look after her for a week, please?” [The calculations are brilliant. A thousand dollars to cover up a twenty-thousand-dollar theft.] [Do not accept the money! If you take it, you are officially in her trap. She will claim you took the money and didn’t do the job, or accuse you of stealing even more.] [Stand your ground. Do not give in.] I tapped my screen and declined the transfer. “I don’t want the money, Brenda. I really can’t do it. Why don’t you hire a professional caregiver? Or perhaps look into a temporary senior care facility?” “How could I trust a stranger?” her voice suddenly rose, sharp and defensive. “A caregiver wouldn’t look after my mother properly, and things would go missing from the apartment. You are the only one I trust, Naomi.” “But I genuinely do not have the time.” “You!” She took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing. “Naomi, let me ask you one last time. Are you really going to refuse to help me?” “I have no choice, Brenda.” Her expression darkened. “Fine. I see what kind of person you are now. I was always so good to you. I brought you food, saved your laundry, and drove you to the hospital in the middle of the night. Now, when I ask for one simple favor, you turn your back on me? I wasted my kindness on a leech.” 2 Her voice echoed down the hallway. The door to apartment 602 opened, and Mrs. Gable stuck her head out. “What’s going on? What’s all the noise about?” Brenda’s face immediately shifted, twisting into an expression of helpless grief. “Mrs. Gable, I’m begging Naomi to help watch my mother for just a week because I have to travel for work. She refuses to help, and she’s lying about having her own business trip.” Mrs. Gable frowned, looking at me with disapproval. “Naomi, Brenda has been incredibly good to you. We’ve all seen it. How can you be so ungrateful? She’s helped you so many times, and you can’t return one favor?” “Exactly,” Mr. Henderson from 603 said, stepping out of his apartment. “Young people need to understand gratitude. Brenda has looked after you plenty of times, hasn’t she?” I opened my mouth to defend myself. “No, I really have to—” “A business trip? Who are you kidding?” Brenda interrupted with a cold laugh. “You usually spend your weekends locked in your apartment, and now you suddenly have a business trip? Nobody believes that.” A suffocating frustration pressed against my chest. These people only saw the few bowls of soup she had brought me. None of them saw the dishes I had washed, the floors I had swept, or the hours I had spent keeping her mother company over the past year. I clenched my fists. “Brenda, find someone else. I cannot help you.” I turned to walk back into my apartment. “Don’t you dare walk away!” Brenda yelled behind me. “I’m going to call your company right now and ask if there’s actually a business trip.” She dialed a number on speakerphone, right in front of Mrs. Gable and Mr. Henderson. “Hello, is this the human resources department? I’m Naomi’s neighbor. I wanted to verify if she has an urgent business trip scheduled for this week?” I couldn’t hear the exact response from the receiver, but I saw the slow, triumphant curl of Brenda’s lips. She hung up the phone and turned to face me, looking like a hunter who had finally cornered her prey. “Your HR department says there is absolutely no business trip scheduled for you. You lied to me, Naomi.” The hallway fell into a tense silence. Mrs. Gable shook her head. “How can a young girl lie like that?” Mr. Henderson sighed. “If you don’t want to help, just say so. There’s no need to make up stories.” “I…” “You just don’t care!” Brenda stepped forward, grabbing my wrist so tightly her nails dug into my skin. “I treated you like family, and this is how you repay me?” I yanked my arm back. “Don’t touch me, Brenda.” “Touch you? I’d dirty my hands touching an ungrateful leech like you!” Several other doors along the corridor opened as more neighbors peered out to watch the spectacle. My face burned with humiliation. “Brenda, I told you, I cannot help you. Find someone else.” “Who am I supposed to find? My mother is eighty years old, and I have to leave for a week! What am I supposed to do?” “Hire a nanny, call your relatives, or use a care service.” “Easy for you to say!” I took a deep breath and chose to remain silent. I pulled out my keys, unlocked my door, stepped inside, and locked it behind me. Outside, Brenda began banging furiously on the wood. “Naomi! Open this door!” “Why are you hiding? Do you feel guilty?” “You ungrateful wretch! I did so much for you, and you treat me like this?” I leaned against the door, closing my eyes. My mind was racing, the glowing text echoing in my thoughts. [The old lady passed away days ago.] [She is waiting for you to walk in so she can frame you for the death.] [The security camera will show that only you entered the apartment.] [They will accuse you of stealing twenty thousand dollars.] I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. Was the mother really dead? I didn’t know if it was from illness or something worse, but one thing was certain. When Brenda asked me to watch her mother, the old lady was already gone. I pulled out my phone and dialed the police. “Hello, I’d like to report a situation. I suspect the elderly resident in apartment 601 has passed away, and her family has not reported it.” 3 The dispatcher paused for a second. “What is the address, please?” “Maplewood Apartments, Building B, Apartment 602. The target apartment is next door, 601.” “Understood. We will dispatch officers to the scene. Please keep your line open.” After hanging up, I opened my phone. The neighborhood group chat was already in an uproar. Brenda had posted a long message. [@All Neighbors, please look at this. I asked my neighbor, Naomi, to help watch my elderly mother for a week while I travel for work. Not only did she refuse, but she also lied about a business trip. I’ve always been so good to her, bringing her food, helping her, and even driving her to the hospital in the middle of the night. This is how she repays me. What an ungrateful leech!] Attached were three images. The first was a clear photo of my ID card. The second was my phone number. The third was a photo of my front door, showing my exact apartment number. [This is her information. Everyone should know what kind of person she is.] My blood ran cold. Within minutes, dozens of messages flooded the chat. “This is terrible.” “While helping is optional, Brenda really did look after her.” “Young people these days have no sense of gratitude.” “Is it really okay to post her personal ID like that?” “She brought it on herself. Anyone would be furious.” Then, stranger requests started popping up on my personal account. The first message I accepted read, “Are you the ungrateful leech from the group chat?” Another unknown number called. The moment I answered, a voice screamed, “Why don’t you go jump off a bridge?” I hung up, took screenshots of every single message, and saved them. More glowing text flashed before me. [Stay strong. Once the police arrive, the truth will come out.] [Don’t be afraid. She is the one who should be terrified.] [You are doing everything right. Keep the records, call the police, and wait.] I set my phone down, then picked it up again, my palms slick with sweat. The banging on my door continued. “Naomi! Are you going to open this door or not?” “Fine, you don’t have to watch her.” Her voice had shifted from rage to a cold, calculated tone. “I have to leave, and my mother will be left unattended. This is your fault. Since you won’t help, you will pay for her professional care.” “Ten thousand dollars.” “Give me ten thousand dollars so I can hire a service, and we’ll call it even.” I almost laughed at the sheer absurdity. Ten thousand dollars? [She is desperate.] [Ignore her. Keep the door locked and wait for the police.] I gritted my teeth, remaining silent. “Naomi, did you hear me?” “Ten thousand dollars. Consider it repayment for the favors I did you this past year. The food, the laundry, the gas money for the hospital, it all adds up to more than that anyway.” “Why aren’t you speaking? Are you feeling guilty?” I walked quietly to the door and looked through the peephole. Brenda was standing there, her arms crossed over her chest. About five minutes later, two figures in police uniforms appeared in the corridor. I unlocked the door and stepped out. Brenda sneered when she saw me. “Oh, so you finally decided to show your face?” I ignored her completely and addressed the two officers. “Officers, I have reason to believe the elderly woman in apartment 601 has passed away.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533215”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 It was day three hundred of my captivity under John Porter, the brilliantly unhinged billionaire, when a car crash wiped his memory. His personal secretary, upon finding me in the basement wearing solid gold ankle cuffs, practically shrieked in terror. He threw a cool hundred million dollars and a private jet my way just to keep me quiet: “The Porter Group’s global offices are yours to command, ma’am. Just please, for the love of God, don’t call the police!” So, I happily spent the next three years flying around the world. But the moment I set foot back in the country, I ran straight into my former captor at the airport. Before panic could even set in, his eyes drifted right past me. Just as I let out a breath of relief, a black sack was shoved over my head the second I walked out of the terminal. When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a very familiar, floor-to-ceiling glass wine cellar. Right next to it was a handwritten note in sharp, elegant cursive: “Little bird, it was love at first sight. I will give you the world, on one condition: stay by my side.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Even with amnesia, this man still had a type, and apparently, it was still me. I ended up laughing anyway. John, that beautiful psycho, had fully restocked the wine cellar. The last time I was here, I had drunk my way through his 1982 Lafite collection, leaving only three bottles. Now, the wall was packed to the brim. I even spotted a bottle of 1947 Cheval Blanc, a legendary vintage that had vanished after failing to sell at auction years ago. Next to the rack, a note was taped to the glass. His handwriting, sharp and pressing into the paper, read: “Don’t even think about running. Be a good girl and wait for me to come home.” A dry chuckle escaped my throat. I was actually amused. Three hundred days of being locked up by a madman, only for him to lose his memory in an accident. His panicked secretary handed me a fortune and a private jet just to keep the cops out of it. I spent three years living the high life across the globe, yet within three hours of landing back home, I was bagged, tagged, and brought right back to this gilded cage. I didn’t need three guesses to know who ordered this. Accepting my fate, I walked over to the cellar, pulled out the ’47 Cheval Blanc, and began searching for a corkscrew. If I was going to miss my welcome-home dinner because of a kidnapping, I might as well enjoy the finest wine on earth. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A sharp, grating voice shattered the silence. I turned around. A woman dressed in high fashion, perched on red-soled Louboutins, stood at the double doors. She glared at me, her chin tilted so high she was practically looking down her nose. Her eyes treated me like a piece of absolute trash. “Did you hear me?” she snapped, her brow furrowing. “I heard you,” I replied, slowly working the cork. “You asked what I’m doing.” “John is my fiancé. Our families are finalizing the alliance.” She stepped into the room, a smug, triumphant smile playing on her lips. “The match was handpicked by his grandmother, Mrs. Porter herself. Who do you think you are, lounging in this villa and touching his private reserve?” Ah. A match arranged by his family. No wonder she was acting like she owned the place. But accusing me of seduction? That was just uncalled for. I was the victim here. Before I could explain, she kept going. “If you know what’s good for you, take a check and get out. Touch what doesn’t belong to you, and you’ll find out how painful life can get.” I agreed instantly. “Deal. Let me out, and I’ll be gone before you can count to three.” I had millions in the bank and a jet waiting at the hangar. The world was huge, and there was plenty of good wine out there. But my cooperation only seemed to make Bianca furious. She slammed her hand against the glass of the wine cellar. “Leave? You wish. You crawl into his bed, and now you think you can just walk away?” “Kneel,” she demanded, drawing out the word. “Apologize. Right now, in front of the entire staff. Bow your head three times.” The smile faded from my face. I wasn’t angry, just a bit sorry for her. “About the kneeling…” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I wouldn’t push it if I were you. It won’t end well.” “Oh? And why is that?” I looked at her with pure, honest concern. “Because he will lose his mind.” “Who?” “John,” I sighed. “He’s obsessed with me. Pathologically so. The last time a chauffeur looked at me for a second too long, he disappeared the next day. His very name was wiped from the payroll.” “So, if you force me to kneel, and he comes home to see that…” I let the threat hang. “I honestly don’t want to think about what he’ll do to you. I’m telling you this for your own good.” Bianca stared at me in disbelief, then burst into a harsh, mocking laugh. “He’d lose his mind over you?” She laughed so hard her expensive jewelry clinked, her sharp nails nearly poking my cheek. “Look at yourself. Who do you think you are?” I kept quiet, letting a tiny, undeniable spark of anticipation settle in my chest. Meanwhile, the housekeepers standing near the door turned pale. One of them quietly slipped away, pulling out a phone and whispering urgently: “Mr. Harrison, you need to get back here right now. There’s going to be a bloodbath!” Bianca took my silence as submission. Her arrogance swelled, and she waved over two burly bodyguards. “Since she won’t kneel on her own,” she said, her tone as casual as ordering a salad, “make her.” “Break her legs if you have to. No one is going to miss a piece of trash like her.” The guards stepped forward, grabbing my shoulders with a grip that made me wince. I didn’t bother fighting back. They were professionals, and struggle was pointless. Besides, I caught the terrified look on the housekeeper’s face. The person on the other end of the line had clearly issued a severe warning. I wouldn’t have to lift a finger. “At least you’re smart enough not to struggle,” Bianca sneered, pacing around me as the guards forced me down. “Recognize your place yet?” “Listen to me. If you behave, maybe I’ll throw some pocket change your way after this so you can buy some dignity on your way out.” The guards pressed down, forcing my knees toward the cold marble floor. My knees hit the stone with a dull, painful thud. It hurt. I had spent three hundred days in the basement of this very house; I could handle a little physical pain. What truly amused me was Bianca’s increasingly dramatic performance. “Tell me,” she demanded, looking down at me. “How did you seduce my fiancé? Give me every detail. Leave one thing out, and my men will add another bruise.” I looked up, my expression perfectly flat. “Are you sure you want to hear it?” “Spit it out!” “Fine,” I said, my voice as dry as a financial report. “He kept me locked in the basement of this villa for three hundred days.” “He went through three different sets of ankle chains. The first was too heavy and chafed my skin, which broke his heart, so he replaced them with custom, velvet-lined gold cuffs.” “He hand-fed me every single meal. If I refused to eat, he would stay until he coaxed every bite down. When I said I wanted a drink, he moved his entire collection of vintage Lafite down to the cellar for me.” Bianca’s sneer flickered. I kept going, taking my time with each word. “Then he got into a car crash and forgot who I was. When his assistant found me, the poor man almost had a stroke. He bribed me with a hundred million dollars and a private jet just to keep me from calling the cops.” “So,” I looked her dead in the eye, “does that sound like seduction to you?” Her face went pale, then flushed with anger. But she quickly clung back to her pride. “What a ridiculous fairy tale. John Porter would never lower himself to do those things for someone like you.” “You’re just taking advantage of his amnesia to spin some wild fantasy!” I smiled. I really, truly wanted to laugh. Amnesia. So she knew about his memory loss. Then she must also know that during his recovery, the Porter family was an absolute circus, with every social climber and self-proclaimed fiancée trying to claim a piece of him. I had been back in the country for barely three hours before I was thrown into a sack. I knew exactly who had put me there. “I’ll give you one last piece of advice,” I said, my voice softening with genuine pity. “Walk out of that door before he gets home. You still have time.” “Otherwise…” “Otherwise what?” Bianca shrieked. She raised her hand, aiming a vicious slap at my face. “You cheap little…” A hand clamped onto her wrist, stopping her mid-air with enough force to turn her fingers white. Bianca gasped in pain, turning to yell, “Which idiot dares to… Thomas? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with John?” Thomas, the personal secretary, looked at me kneeling on the floor, his face drained of color. “Miss Bianca, let her go! Please! If the boss finds out you made her kneel, he will destroy us all!” But before he could even reach me, Bianca’s guards blocked him. “Are you in league with this trash, Thomas?” she sneered. “No wonder she had the nerve to slip into his bed!” Thomas looked like he was about to have a heart attack. “Miss Bianca, Mrs. Porter chose you, and I respect that. But this woman… the boss has been tearing the world apart looking for her for three long years. You cannot touch her.” “Three years?” Bianca scoffed. “Since his accident, he’s mistaken a dozen women for someone else. Why would she be any different?” “Because…” Thomas stammered, unable to speak the unspeakable truths of John’s obsession. “You’re just a glorified errand boy,” Bianca said, her chin tilting up again. “The match was blessed by Mrs. Porter. Why don’t you go complain to her? If she gave me her blessing, who are you to tell me no?” Thomas shut his mouth, defeated. He was just an employee, after all. Bianca had the matriarch’s backing, and he couldn’t override that authority. He looked at me with a helpless, pleading expression that said, I can’t stop her, please just hang in there. I sighed, offering Bianca one last olive branch. “Miss Bianca, you should listen to the secretary. While you still can.” “Shut up, you bitch! How dare you threaten me!” Bianca snapped, breaking free and striking me across the face with a resounding slap. Thomas looked as if he had just watched a bomb go off. “Miss Bianca… you struck her.” “So what if I did?” “The boss cannot stand to see a single scratch on her!” Thomas’s voice was shaking. “Last time a driver merely stared at her, the boss personally broke his…” He swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence. “You have no idea what he will do when he gets back.” The sheer terror in the room only seemed to feed Bianca’s spite. “You’re trying to scare me too?” she hissed, glaring at Thomas. “I wouldn’t dare lie to you…” “Then shut up.” She snatched a heavy metal baton from one of the bodyguards’ belts, her eyes flashing with malice. “I want to see exactly how crazy he gets for her.” Seeing that she was beyond reason, Thomas backed away, frantically pulling out his phone and dialing. “Sir! Wherever you are, you need to come back right now! Miss Bianca is going to hurt the lady you brought back, and I can’t stop her!” A heavy silence hung over the line for a fraction of a second. Then came a voice, low, icy, and so sharp it cut through the room even from several feet away. “Who gave her permission to touch what is mine?” A loud crack followed, the sound of plastic and glass being crushed under immense pressure. Thomas’s face went completely grey. He lowered his phone, his knees trembling. “The boss… he just crushed his phone. He said for no one to touch you, and that he’s on his way.” He looked at me like I was a saint who could save his soul, and then looked at Bianca like she was already in a coffin. For the first time, Bianca’s confidence wavered, but only for a second. “Bluffing,” she spat, though her grip on the baton tightened. “Who knows what’s true from before his accident. Even if he comes back, I am the woman his mother chose. Would he really destroy his own family for a mistress?” “He would,” I said softly. “What did you say?” “I said, he would.” I swirled the wine in my glass. “Believe me or not. You’ll find out soon enough.” My calm demeanor pushed her over the edge. “Hold her down,” she ordered, thrusting the baton into a guard’s hand. “Beat her until she begs.” “Miss Bianca! No!” Thomas threw himself to the ground, crawling to block the guard. “He’s been searching for her for three years!” “During his recovery, he locked himself in that basement every single day! He searched every flight manifest, every vineyard, every customs record across the globe just to find her!” “If you touch her, someone is going to die today!” The servants in the room dropped to their knees, trembling like autumn leaves in a storm. The collective terror in the room was louder than any warning. Bianca’s hand shook, the weight of their fear finally registering. “Are you all… insane?” she stammered, looking around. “Frightened of a common whore?” No one dared to answer. I spoke up, my voice quiet but cutting through the silence. “Every single thing you do to me right now will be returned to you tenfold when he walks through that door. He doesn’t forgive.” Bianca stared at me, her chest heaving. Finally, pushed to the brink of madness, she threw the baton aside and reached into her designer bag, pulling out a small, gleaming utility knife. “A beating is too good for you,” she whispered, her eyes shining with a frantic, unstable light. “John loves this face of yours? Let’s see how much he loves it when I slice it open.” “Let’s see if he still loses his mind for a monster.” Thomas shrieked, “Miss Bianca! Stop!” Outside, the violent, screeching sound of tires tearing asphalt shattered the air. Bianca didn’t stop. If anything, the sound of his arrival made her panic, driving her to finish what she started before he could walk through the door. “Hold her! Don’t let her move!” she screamed. The two guards clamped their hands around my jaw, forcing my head back. The cold, silver tip of the blade drifted inches from my cheek. “Let me go now, and I won’t tell him,” I said, keeping my voice perfectly steady. “Your last chance.” “Too late,” Bianca whispered, leaning in close, her breath cold against my skin. “I’ll only ruin half. I want to leave enough so he knows exactly what you used to look like.” “He’ll be devastated,” she laughed. “It’ll be beautiful.” The moment the cold metal touched my skin, a strong, pale hand reached from behind, gripping her wrist with the force of an iron vice. Bianca cried out as her bones groaned under the pressure, the utility knife clattering to the marble floor. John stood behind her. He wore a dark tailored suit, looking disheveled, his tie loosened, his eyes shot through with exhaustion. But those eyes were colder than a winter grave, sending a physical chill through the room. He didn’t look at Bianca. He stepped past her, dropping to his knees in front of me. His hands, trembling slightly, cradled my face, his fingers tracing my skin with agonizing gentleness. He was checking to make sure the blade hadn’t left a mark. Once he was sure I was untouched, his chest heaved, his breathing ragged. “Does it hurt?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “She slapped me,” I said calmly. “And she tried to ruin my face.” John’s grip on my jaw tightened ever so slightly, his knuckles turning white. He stood up slowly, turning his gaze to Bianca. The words that left his lips made everyone’s heart stop cold: “Then I will make sure her entire family begs for death.” With a single look, Bianca’s legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533231”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I have a terrible temper. My brother is the only person in the world who can tolerate it. Everyone around us laughs at him, calling him an obsessively doting fool with a massive sister complex. But he always shrugs it off with absolute pride. “She’s my little sister. What’s wrong with spoiling her a bit?” But one day, my brother changed. He suddenly drew a sharp line between us, avoiding me at every turn. When I blocked his car in the middle of the street, he wouldn’t even roll down the window to look at me. His voice came through the glass, flat and distant. “David, it’s time you learned to grow up.” I thought my brother didn’t want me anymore. Until I caught him drunk, locked inside his room, sobbing in the dark. “System, how much longer until the real son comes back?” “Can I really not be good to my David anymore?” A mechanical voice replied, dripping with exasperated frustration. “Get it through your head. They are the actual blood siblings. You’re just an imposter. Can you please wake up?” Listening from outside the door, the corners of my mouth slowly curled into a smile. So, my brother and I aren’t related at all. 1 I knew from a very young age that I wasn’t normal. When I was five years old, some relatives were teasing me at a family dinner. They pointed to the dish of stewed meat on the table and claimed it was the pet rabbit I had been raising. They laughed, their faces twisted with cruel amusement. “Well? You raised it yourself. Doesn’t it taste delicious?” I remained silent for a moment. Then, I picked up the boiling kettle from the side table and poured the scalding water directly over the hand of my uncle, the one laughing the loudest. The skin on his hand turned instantly white. Cooked. As the scent of scalded flesh rose alongside his pig-like shrieks of agony, I blinked innocently. “That’s your right hand, the one that grew up with you. Why don’t you taste it and tell me if it’s delicious?” The dining room erupted into utter chaos. Amidst the frantic shouting of relatives branding me a monster, my father, blind with rage, grabbed a heavy wooden cane to strike me. But the blow never landed on me. My brother had thrown himself over my body, taking the hit. His face was pale, his eyelashes trembling with pain. Yet, he carefully pulled a small, snowy-white ball from his coat. “David,” he whispered, his voice incredibly soft and soothing. “Don’t worry. Your rabbit is alive. I found him in the storage room.” “As long as I’m here, nothing will happen to you or your rabbit.” “I promise.” My brother was nine years old that year. He silently took a brutal beating for me. In the middle of the night, my mother wept as she applied ointment to his bruised back. “Your father wasn’t even trying to hit you. Why did you have to interfere?” “David is a psychopath. Who throws boiling water on an elder over a simple joke?” My brother shook his head, his expression dead serious. “It wasn’t a joke. It would have broken her heart.” I stood outside his door, listening in the shadows. The dark, violent urge that had flared up inside me because of my mother’s harsh words was miraculously put to rest by the gentle sound of his voice. In the dozen years that followed, my temper grew more unpredictable and volatile. My parents looked at me with a mixture of fear and disgust. Only my brother, Ashton, behaved like a stubborn, single-minded machine, firmly believing that I was a fragile little sister who needed his constant protection. He tolerated every single one of my flaws. He even fought with our parents for my sake. “If you had given David a normal, loving environment to grow up in, she wouldn’t be like this! My sister has always been the sweetest girl!” His friends couldn’t stand it. “We’ve seen overprotective brothers, but you’re just living in denial, Ashton.” “Is there any chance your sister is actually the opposite of sweet?” “If you keep enabling her like this, something terrible is going to happen.” Ashton only countered with absolute confidence. “David is my sister. What’s wrong with spoiling her?” 2 During my senior year of high school, Ashton, who had skipped two grades, graduated from university and began taking over the family business. He was drowning in work, yet he made it a point to drive to my school every single afternoon to pick me up. One day, the school bully tried to corner me to confess his love. I ended up beating him until he fell in line, and he ended up carrying my backpack to the car like a loyal servant. As the car door clicked shut, the interior fell into a dim silence. Ashton adjusted his cuffs, asking in a gentle tone, “David, are you dating someone?” I shook my head, chewing on a strawberry he had just fed me. “Good. It’s better not to focus on that right now. Your senior year is the most critical time.” He spoke softly, almost to himself. “I don’t mean to interfere in your life, but this stage is very important. Besides, that boy who carried your bag earlier, he wasn’t very pleasant to look at. You should keep your distance from him.” Ashton’s personality had always been incredibly mild. This was the first time I had ever heard him use such a sharp, critical word to describe someone else. I bit into the tip of the strawberry, quietly studying him. His hair had grown a bit long, falling in soft, messy strands across his forehead. His eyes were wide and luminous, like still water. Because of his corporate meetings, he was dressed in a tailored suit, but he still looked as harmless and soft as a white cloud. I had always known my brother was beautiful. His skin was as fair as delicate porcelain, and the tips of his ears and knuckles carried a faint, rosy tint. When he tilted his head, his soft hair brushed against his neck, revealing the faint blue veins beneath his skin. He looked a lot like the pet rabbit I used to have. The rabbit had died when I was eight. I hadn’t shed a single tear while burying it, but Ashton had stood beside me, crying his eyes out. When I asked him why he was crying, he said, “David, I know you’re hurting. You just don’t know how to express it normally.” A strange, familiar warmth bubbled up in my chest. Staring at the delicate pulse in his neck, I asked with a touch of anxiety, “Ashton, will you be my brother forever?” He answered without a moment’s hesitation. “Of course.” But he lied to me. 3 Just before my twentieth birthday, I realized Ashton was actively avoiding me. My parents had washed their hands of me long ago, so it was Ashton who had moved me into my university dorm. On his very first day in the city, he bought an apartment right next to the campus. “This way, you don’t have to worry about getting used to dorm life or dealing with difficult roommates.” He thought of everything. In reality, I had already learned how to mask my behavior perfectly over the years, knowing exactly how to make people trust and like me. But I liked the feeling of being shielded by him, so I simply nodded and agreed. My mother was right about one thing. I was a monster. My entire existence was like a thousand invisible threads wrapped tightly around Ashton. As long as he stayed still, I would remain docile and quiet. But the moment he tried to break free, those threads would cut into his flesh, binding us together forever. My brother belonged to me, and me alone. That was a truth that had been rooted in my mind since childhood. Apart from the days when my schedule was packed with classes, I spent almost every night at the apartment. Ashton would usually buy groceries and come home before sunset to cook for me. But on this particular afternoon, I unlocked the door to find a cold, empty dark living room. I checked my phone. It wasn’t unusual for him to be delayed by urgent corporate meetings, but he always sent me a detailed text beforehand. Today, my notification bar was entirely blank. Our last chat was from three days ago, when I had sent a brief message: I’m out of pads. He had never replied. I dialed his secretary’s number. “Where is my brother?” The secretary stammered, offering vague excuses. I let out a soft laugh. “Should we discuss this in person instead?” The man was terrified of me. Hearing the tone of my voice, he hesitated for only a fraction of a second before cracking. “Mr. Hale isn’t avoiding you on purpose. He has an important charity gala tonight, and a major contract to finalize.” “The fact that you are the one explaining this to me proves he is avoiding me on purpose,” I said flatly. The secretary fell silent, not daring to speak. I hung up, grabbed my keys, and drove toward the venue. As I drove, the sun began to set, painting the horizon in a violent, fiery crimson. For some reason, my mind drifted back to a memory from several years ago. I was fourteen. My mother had taken advantage of Ashton’s study-abroad trip to lock me away in a strict behavioral modification school. By the time Ashton rushed back to rescue me, I had already set the main building on fire. “David!” He had held me so tightly his entire body was shaking worse than mine. “Don’t be scared. I’m here. I’ve got you.” Actually, I hadn’t been scared at all. But wrapped in his warm, trembling embrace, a single tear had escaped my eye. I had blinked it away, mimicking the pathetic, fragile tone of a normal girl. “Ashton, you have to protect me.” “I will. I promise you, nothing like this will ever happen again.” I had smiled, thoroughly satisfied. Through the dancing flames, I saw my mother cowering behind the police cars, staring at me as if I were a demon incarnate. “Ashton! She isn’t your sister, she’s a monster!” she had screamed hysterically. “She started the fire! She’s only fourteen and she’s already doing this! If we don’t lock her up for rehabilitation, she’ll destroy us all!” Ashton hadn’t even looked back at her. He lifted me into his arms, his voice colder than ice. “She doesn’t need discipline. She needs love.” I had pressed my face against his chest, inhaling his clean, comforting scent. It was different from anyone else’s. He was supposed to go back to his studies abroad, but after that day, he changed his plans entirely. He stayed in the country for college, took over the family firm early, and refused to leave my side for more than forty-eight hours. He even accompanied me on my high school graduation trip. So why was he suddenly attending business dinners without telling me? 4 I parked my car across from the grand entrance of the venue. After a few minutes, a familiar black luxury sedan pulled up to the valet. The window rolled down, revealing Ashton’s strikingly handsome, pale face. He gave a polite nod to the security guard, handing over his invitation. Over the years, he had learned how to project a cold, commanding authority in public. But the soft, yielding, and gentle sides of him were reserved for me alone. Seeing him eased the tension in my chest. I smiled, preparing to step out of my car. But then, the rear passenger window rolled down. A beautiful woman leaned slightly forward, her lips curved into an elegant smile. Her fingers, resting casually against the car door, were long and slender. And on her middle finger sat a simple white-gold band, identical to the one I wore. 5 My mind went completely blank, a loud ringing filling my ears. My fingers instinctively moved to trace the middle finger of my own hand, where an identical white-gold band rested. It was the gift I had made him pick out with me on my eighteenth birthday. I remembered his friend asking him in disbelief after we bought them, “Ashton, do you actually know what a ring on the middle finger represents? You guys are siblings!” Ashton had simply given him a puzzled look. “David wanted it. Why wouldn’t I listen to her?” His friend had been left entirely speechless. Now, looking across the street, I watched Ashton step out of the car. As he adjusted his cuffs, his bare fingers were fully visible. He had taken the ring off. The ring he had promised me he would never remove. I pushed my car door open and walked toward him. 6 “Ashton.” He froze at the sound of my voice. He didn’t turn around, keeping his back to me as he spoke in a muffled, strained voice. “David? Why are you here? Go home.” His broad shoulders under the tailored suit were incredibly rigid. Because he refused to face me, I had to crane my neck to catch the tight, strained line of his jaw. He was running from me. Before I could say anything else, the woman from the car walked over, her silk dress rustling. She brushed a stray curl past her shoulder, offering a warm smile. “So this is David? Your sister?” “Yes,” Ashton muttered. “Since she’s here, why don’t we bring her inside to grab a bite?” She offered her hand to me, the white-gold ring on her finger catching the streetlights, sending a sharp stab of irritation through my chest. Before my hand could move, Ashton suddenly spun around and slapped her hand down. “She can’t go in,” he said, his brow furrowing with a strange, nervous tension. He remained silent for several seconds before looking at me. “David, go back to the apartment. I’ll have Arthur order some takeout for you. I’m going to be very busy for the next few weeks, so I won’t be able to come home. Take care of yourself.” Without waiting for my response, he turned and walked briskly into the banquet hall. The woman lingered for a second, looking at me with an amused glint in her eyes. She pulled a pen from her clutch, scribbling a number on a card before handing it to me. “Don’t be sad. If you want to see your brother, call me anytime.” Sad? I climbed back into my car, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. In the rearview mirror, my lips were bitten raw, bleeding slightly. In the quiet, confined space, a flood of dark, chaotic emotions rushed through me. It wasn’t sadness. It was a violent, suffocating possessiveness. Anger. And a dark, thrilling excitement. Had Ashton finally realized what a monster I was? Was he trying to run away from me because of it? Did that mean… I finally had a reason to lock him away in my apartment, so he could never leave my side again? 7 When I got back to the apartment, it was pitch black. Ashton hadn’t been home in three days, and even his scent on the pillows had faded. I decided to head back to the university dorms. My roommates were surprised to see me. “David! You don’t have any classes for the next two days. Aren’t you spending the weekend with your brother?” I tilted my head, offering a rare, slight smile. “I missed you guys. Is that a crime?” Three pairs of eyes stared at me in absolute shock. “Just kidding.” I tossed my bag onto my desk and opened my laptop. My roommate, Harper, walked over to offer me some fruit, but her eyes froze when she caught sight of my screen. “David… what is that?” I turned to look at her. “What’s wrong?” “Did… did someone make you mad?” I rested my chin in my hand, thinking about it seriously. “Not exactly. My brother is just being difficult.” Harper’s voice dropped to a nervous whisper. “David, look, I don’t mean anything by this, but we live in a civilized society. If someone’s bothering you, you can talk to them. Or you can have your brother handle it, right? Some lines shouldn’t be crossed.” I stared into her eyes, completely serious. “What if the person who made me angry is my brother?” “Haha, no way. Your brother is the king of overprotective siblings. We’ve only met him a few times and we could tell he worships the ground you walk on.” She paused, swallowing hard as she looked back at the search results for industrial-grade locks on my screen. “Wait… you’re not planning on using those on him, are you?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533216”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I possess an ability I can never speak of out loud. Whenever I get intimate with my girlfriend, I can see exactly what she was doing one hour prior. In the past, the visions were always sweet. I would see her secretly buying lingerie to surprise me. I would see her standing in the kitchen, carefully following a recipe to make my favorite chicken noodle soup from scratch. Sometimes, I would see her standing in front of a mirror, nervously adjusting her dress and practicing how she was going to propose to me. We have been in love for seven years, and for seven years, her past hour had always revolved around me. Until three days before our wedding. When she leaned in to kiss me, a scene suddenly flashed before my eyes. In a dimly lit lounge, she had my best friend, Declan, pinned against the door. Declan turned his head, his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “We can’t keep doing this!” “Adam is my best buddy. I can’t do this to him…” Annie reached down and undid his belt, her voice incredibly husky. “I am marrying him in three days.” “Let’s just treat this as one last wild indulgence.” The image vanished as quickly as it came. In reality, Annie was still resting in my arms, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. “Adam, we are getting married so soon.” “Are you happy?” I looked into her deeply affectionate eyes and let out a quiet, hollow laugh. So, after all these years, a third person had finally appeared in her hour. … After she spoke, she leaned down to kiss me again. Her lips brushed against my face, the gesture just as tender as it had been countless times before. It even carried a hint of that lingering, pre-wedding romance. But my entire body went rigid. The next second, another vision flashed before my eyes. Declan’s dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. A faint smudge of lipstick was smeared near the corner of his mouth. He was leaning against Annie, chuckling low in his chest. “Adam is way too skinny.” “I went with him to his tuxedo fitting yesterday, and I swear, his shoulders and chest couldn’t even fill out the jacket.” Annie let out a soft laugh. “He is too thin.” “Every time I hug him, it feels like holding a bag of bones.” Declan immediately frowned, pretending to defend my honor. “How can you say that about him?” “Adam is my best friend.” But right after he said it, he shifted his body closer to hers, his tone laced with blatant provocation. “What about me, then?” “How is my physique? Do I feel good when you hold me?” Annie did not answer. Instead, her hand, which was resting against his skin, slowly tightened its grip. That silence was more deafening than any answer she could have given. Declan laughed. “Forget it. I won’t fight Adam for you.” “He has been waiting for you for seven years. It’s actually kind of pathetic.” The vision violently snapped shut. In the present, Annie was still holding me. A freezing knot twisted in my stomach, and I finally could not stomach it anymore. I pushed her away. Caught off guard, Annie stumbled a half-step back. She frowned, looking at me with concern. “Adam?” “What is wrong?” I raised a hand, pressing it against my chest, and shook my head. My face was already pale as a sheet. Just then, the sound of the digital keypad echoing from the front door broke the silence. A second later, the door was pushed open from the outside. Declan walked in wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts. A faint, woody cologne drifted off him. It was the exact same sandalwood and cedar scent Annie wore. He smiled effortlessly. “Adam, man, my water heater just completely died on me.” “Figured since you guys live so close, I would come over and borrow your shower.” I stared at him. For the first time in our friendship, my face was entirely devoid of warmth. “Declan, do you really think it is appropriate to walk into my house dressed like that?” Declan froze. Quickly, he ducked his head and offered a sheepish laugh. “My bad.” “I spent so much time living over in Europe, I guess I stopped paying attention to boundaries like that.” Annie stepped right in front of him, practically shielding him from my gaze. “Adam, come on. Declan lived abroad for years. He is just used to being casual.” “He doesn’t mean anything by it. Stop overthinking it.” Watching her instinctively protect him, I found the whole situation utterly laughable. Of course I knew Declan had lived in Europe. Because I was the one who paid to send him there. Back then, he could not afford his first year of tuition. I emptied my savings account, taking every dime I had scraped together for two years, and wired it all to him. On the day he left for the airport, Declan hugged me so hard I could barely breathe. “Adam, you are the best brother I could ever ask for.” “When I get back, I am absolutely going to be your best man.” Later on, Annie frequently flew overseas for business trips. I had specifically pulled her aside and begged her for a favor. “Declan is all alone over there. He doesn’t know the language or the city.” “When you have some free time, could you check on him for me?” Back then, Annie just ruffled my hair and laughed, calling me too soft-hearted. I laughed with her. I honestly thought their only connection was through me. But eventually, every time Annie flew to that city, she went out of her way to see him. At first, she would send me photos to check in. “The grocery stores near Declan’s campus close so early. I brought him some supplies.” “Declan is really stressed about his thesis. I’m taking him out to dinner.” But as time went on, Annie began appearing frequently on Declan’s social media. She dragged his luggage for him. She sat with him in waiting rooms at the clinic. Even on his graduation day, the person standing right next to him in his photos was Annie. It wasn’t that I never felt a twinge of discomfort. But every single time, I reminded myself that Declan was my best buddy. And Annie was only looking out for him because she loved me. It was only now that I finally understood. Boundaries are never crossed overnight. It happens one small step at a time. Declan was still standing in the entryway, his expression neutral. “Adam, if it bothers you that much, I will just leave right now.” He said he would leave, but his feet remained firmly planted on the hardwood floor. Annie frowned deeply. “It is already so late, and your water heater is broken. Where else are you going to shower?” “Just go wash up.” I did not say another word. My eyes simply dropped to Declan’s wrist. He was wearing a luxury watch. A few days ago, I had stumbled across the receipt for it in Annie’s home office. The price tag was more than ten times the cost of the wedding band she had bought for me. At the time, I assumed it was a surprise wedding gift Annie had prepared for me. I had been secretly anticipating it for days. I even imagined how happy I would be when she strapped it onto my wrist on our wedding day. But now, that watch was resting on Declan’s wrist. I looked down at the wedding band on my own hand. It was simple, unadorned, and very cheap. When Annie first slipped it onto my finger, she said, “A ring doesn’t have to be expensive. It is the meaning behind it that matters.” I had been genuinely moved for a very long time. I thought she just wasn’t the romantic type. I thought she valued meaning over materialism. Now I knew the truth. The meaning, it seemed, depended entirely on who was receiving the gift. Declan kept his head down and walked into the living room. As he brushed past me, the smell of that cologne hit me even harder. My fingers slowly curled into tight fists. Yet he acted as if everything was perfectly normal, striding toward our master bathroom with the confidence of someone who lived here. Annie opened a cabinet and pulled out a brand-new bath towel, handing it to him. It was one of the matching towels I had just bought for our married life. A grey and white set. I had planned for us to use them together for the first time after the wedding. Declan took it without a second thought. “You always pay attention to the details.” “Adam really trained you well.” Annie’s tone was incredibly soft, whispering a gentle reminder to him. “Be careful. The floor gets slippery.” Once the bathroom door clicked shut, the sound of running water started immediately. Standing in the middle of the living room, I suddenly felt like an intruder in my own home. This was supposed to be the home Annie and I built for our future. Yet Declan knew the door code. He walked in half-naked. He used the towels I bought for my wedding. He wore the watch I thought was meant for me. And Annie didn’t find a single thing wrong with any of it. She even walked over to me, acting as if she finally had a spare moment to soothe my temper. “Adam, don’t read into it.” “You and Declan are so close. I only take care of him because of how much he means to you.” I did not look up. After a long, suffocating silence, I simply offered a quiet, “Okay.” Annie let out a visible sigh of relief. She probably thought I had been successfully pacified. The sound of the shower echoed from down the hall. I walked into our bedroom and shut the door behind me. My phone lit up. It was a message from our wedding planner. “Mr. Davis, we need your final approval on the welcome posters for the reception tonight.” I looked down and began typing. “Change the name.” The planner replied almost instantly. “Mr. Davis, do you mean the groom’s name on the poster?” I pulled the corner of my mouth into a bitter smile and typed out my response, word by word. “Yes.” “Change the groom to Declan.” The next morning, when I walked out of the bedroom, breakfast was already set on the dining table. Annie was standing near the kitchen island, the sleeves of her blouse rolled up. She looked completely unfazed, as if last night never happened. “You’re up?” “Did you sleep well?” I stared at the glass of warmed milk on the table, my mind drifting for a split second. I had always suffered from stomach issues. Annie would always take the milk out of the fridge half an hour early to warm it up. She always said that drinking it too hot would hurt my stomach, and drinking it too cold would do the same. Back then, I always thought to myself, if someone remembers the exact temperature you like your milk, how could they not love you? Now, she still remembered these tiny details. But I could no longer tell the difference. Was it love? Or was it just a habit she had formed over seven years? Annie pushed a velvet watch box across the table toward me. “I saw you staring at Declan’s watch last night.” “My Adam deserves a decent watch, too.” She spoke with such tenderness, her eyes overflowing with what looked like genuine affection. I glanced at the watch. It wasn’t the same luxury brand as Declan’s. The design was similar. But the price tag was drastically lower. Annie walked up behind me and began adjusting my shirt collar. She tilted her head up. The moment her soft lips brushed against the back of my neck, a violent flash of imagery ripped through my mind. The bright, blinding lights of a jewelry store. Declan was sitting at the display counter. A watch was resting in front of him. It was the exact same watch Annie was handing me right now. Declan picked it up and strapped it onto his wrist. He stared at it in the mirror for a few seconds before frowning. “It is too plain. The dial is too small, and the metal strap scratches my wrist.” “I don’t want it.” He unbuckled it and casually tossed it back onto the glass counter. But Annie didn’t let the sales associate put it away. She stared at the watch for a moment before speaking in a flat tone. “Box it up.” Declan paused, then smirked. “Giving it to Adam?” Annie gave a vague hum of agreement. “He was sulking last night. I’ll buy a watch to shut him up.” Declan immediately frowned, playing the part of the concerned friend perfectly. “Don’t just brush him off like that.” “Adam is my best friend, you know.” Annie let out a small laugh. “He won’t care.” “As long as I give it to him, he will love it.” Declan picked the watch back up, dangling it from his fingertips. “True.” “Adam was never a picky guy.” “Back in the day, whenever I mailed him my old, worn-out suits, he would happily wear them to the office.” In the vision, Annie did not argue. She simply handed her credit card to the cashier. My breathing hitched in my chest. During Declan’s first few years abroad, he constantly complained about not having enough money to survive. Terrified he was starving in a foreign country, I lived on instant ramen just to wire him extra cash. I refused to buy myself new clothes. Every now and then, Declan would mail me designer jackets he had outgrown or gotten bored of. I never once complained. I thought that was just how brothers looked out for each other. Only now did I finally understand. I had simply been conditioned to accept the things Declan threw away. The vision faded. The cold metal of the watch was already clasped around my wrist. Annie leaned close to my ear, her breath warm and intimate. “Do you like it?” I unbuckled the watch, placed it back in the velvet box, and spoke very softly. “The metal strap scratches my wrist.” Annie froze. She probably couldn’t fathom how I had just spoken the exact same words as Declan. But she quickly chalked my reaction up to a bad mood. She likely assumed I was still throwing a jealous fit over last night. She reached out and patted my shoulder. “The wedding is in two days.” “Don’t make yourself miserable.” I looked down and smiled. She thought I was unhappy because I was jealous. But she had no idea. I didn’t even have the energy left to be jealous. My phone lit up on the table. It was a text from the wedding planner. “Mr. Davis, we need to finalize the schedule for the ceremony tonight.” “Are there any additional segments you would like to include?” I stared at the glowing text on the screen. After a long moment, I typed my reply. “Yes.” “Right before the ceremony officially begins, I want to add a segment where I read my vows.” On the day of the wedding, I arrived at the luxury hotel venue as scheduled. While the stylist was adjusting my tuxedo, she smiled brightly. “You look incredibly handsome today, Mr. Davis.” I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I really did look like a groom full of hope, ready to marry the love of his life. But I was the only one who knew the truth. Today’s wedding wasn’t about marrying Annie. It was about delivering her and Declan the ultimate gift. When the stylist picked up my necktie, her hands suddenly stopped. “Mr. Davis, this tie…” I glanced over. The edge of the tie was crumpled. And near the top, there was a faint, unmistakable smudge of lipstick. My fingers curled into a brutal, white-knuckled fist. That tie was sewn for me by my mother on her deathbed, stitch by agonizing stitch. She had been completely emaciated by the illness. She could barely hold the needle. Her hands shook violently with every movement. But she propped herself up in that hospital bed for an entire month. She carefully wove the intricate dark patterns and tiny silver threads into the lining of the fabric. She told me, “I probably won’t live to see my Adam get married.” “So let this tie walk down the aisle with you instead of me.” “When you put it on, just imagine your mother is holding your hand.” After my mother passed, I kept the tie locked in a pristine box. I barely even dared to touch it, afraid of ruining it. I had sent it to the hotel in advance. I even specifically warned the hotel staff to keep it in a secure, isolated garment bag. But now, it was wrinkled. And stained with someone else’s lipstick. The stylist looked incredibly uncomfortable. “Would you like me to try and treat the stain for you?” I stared at that piercing speck of red. After what felt like an eternity, I slowly shook my head. “No.” “Just leave it as it is.” The door swung open, and Annie walked in. She was wearing a stunning white bridal gown. Her makeup was flawless, her expression radiating warmth. If my eyes hadn’t been violently forced open to the truth. In this exact moment, my heart probably still would have skipped a beat. Annie stood behind me, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “Adam.” “You look so handsome today.” She reached out and adjusted the knot of my tie. With eyes full of deep longing, she cupped my face and leaned in for a kiss. The moment our breaths mingled. My vision plunged into darkness. In the vision, it was a bridal suite. Declan was leaning against the vanity. His dress shirt was entirely unbuttoned, and a smear of lipstick coated his mouth. My mother’s tie was draped loosely around his neck. Annie was looking down, fixing the collar of his shirt. “Annie, are you out of your mind?” Declan’s voice was low and heavy. “In less than an hour, you are walking down the aisle to marry Adam.” Annie looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. “That is exactly why this has to be the last time.” Declan stayed quiet for a moment. “You say it is the last time every single time.” “But every time you see me, you just can’t keep your hands off.” Annie didn’t argue. Instead, she frantically reached for the buckle of his belt. As their bodies crashed together, she yanked the tie off his neck and blindly tossed it onto the sofa. One of the buttons on Declan’s shirt caught the edge of the fabric. A piece of the silver thread snapped, unraveling a small section. I stood paralyzed, rooted to the floor. In that split second, the last remaining pillar holding my sanity together completely shattered. They both knew. They both knew my dying mother had sewn that tie for me. On the day my mother passed away, both Annie and Declan were standing right by her hospital bed. Reduced to nothing but skin and bones, my mother had grabbed Annie’s hand and pleaded through tears. “I won’t be able to see my boy get married. Please, promise me you will love him enough for the both of us.” Annie had nodded with total conviction. “Don’t worry.” “I swear I will never let Adam suffer.” Declan had stood right beside her, his voice choking with emotion. “I promise you.” “I will always be there for Adam.” “On the day he gets married, I will watch over him for you.” But look at them now. One was my bride. The other was my best friend. And mere minutes before the wedding, they had crumpled and desecrated the last thing my mother ever gave me, just so they could do something so sickeningly vile. The vision violently cut out. In reality, Annie was still smoothing out the fabric of the tie. Outside the door, the MC knocked gently. “Annie, Mr. Davis, the ceremony is starting.” Annie reached her hand out to me. “Let’s go.” I stared at her outstretched hand. It was slender and clean. Years ago, when I was burning with a terrible fever, that exact hand had stayed up all night, swapping out cold towels on my forehead. But today, that hand had just finished buttoning Declan’s shirt. She had taken every ounce of devotion I ever gave her and crushed it into a pathetic joke. I placed my hand in hers. Annie led me out into the hallway. The grand double doors of the banquet hall slowly swung open. On stage, the MC smiled brightly at the crowd. “Before we officially begin the ceremony, the groom has specifically requested a moment to share his vows.” “Let’s all listen to what he has to say to his beautiful bride.” Annie turned her head, a flash of genuine surprise in her eyes. “When did you add this?” I smiled. “Last night.” I reached into the inner pocket of my tuxedo jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Down in the front row, Declan was sitting confidently in his tailored suit, looking up at me with a perfectly calm expression. He probably thought the wedding was going to go exactly as they planned. But neither of them knew. The speech I prepared. Was never about love. It was about ripping their reputations to shreds. Under the watchful eyes of Annie’s family and every person we knew, I slowly brought the microphone to my lips. “I want to thank Annie, and my absolute best friend, Declan.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533232”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 On my wedding day, my fiancé’s secretary drenched my parents in red wine. Right there on the red carpet, my father’s hairpiece was knocked askew, my mother’s designer gown was soaked to the skin, and a wave of snickers rippled through the high-society guests. Furious, I gathered the heavy skirts of my wedding dress and stormed into the bridal suite, only to find Thomas gently wiping the wine stains from Tavi’s hands. “It was just an accident,” he said, his voice casual and indifferent. He didn’t even bother to look up at me. “Don’t be so petty.” I stared at his hand, wrapped protectively around Tavi’s wrist, and a sudden, sharp laugh escaped my throat. “Thomas, the wedding is off.” He finally raised his head. “Ann, stop making a scene.” “Do you even realize what day it is?” I looked at him, then at Tavi, who stood shivering behind him with tears pooling in her eyes. She was wearing her bridesmaid dress, shrinking back as if she were a defenseless victim. “I’m so sorry,” Tavi whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s all my fault. I only wanted to help your parents adjust their clothes before the ceremony, but I lost my footing.” “So,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “you’re saying my parents deserved to be covered in Cabernet, and we should thank you for your thoughtfulness?” Tavi’s face drained of color. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Thomas stepped in front of her, shielding her further. “Ann, do you have to be so venomous? Tavi already apologized. What more do you want?” I stared at the man I had loved for seven years. I used to think I knew him better than anyone. Now, he felt like a total stranger. Outside that door were hundreds of guests and my humiliated parents. Inside, my fiancé and his secretary were playing the roles of the noble protector and the damsel in distress. “What do I want?” I repeated, taking a slow step toward him. “Thomas, you know my father has a weak heart. You know how much my mother values her dignity. Today, they stood in front of the entire city, taking the brunt of everyone’s mockery for our sake. And you, my groom, are in here comforting the person who did it.” My voice didn’t tremble. It was flat, cold, and entirely hollow. Thomas shifted uncomfortably. “I told you, she didn’t do it on purpose. I’ve already sent my assistant to handle the situation. I’ll go explain things to your parents in a minute.” Explain? With what? His silver tongue? Was he going to patch up my parents’ shattered dignity with a few empty words? A wave of exhaustion washed over me. Every single time, it was the same excuse. She’s just my assistant, Ann, don’t overthink it. She’s trying to make it in the city all on her own, it’s only right that we look out for her. Yes, she had it so hard. So hard that she could call him away in the middle of our anniversary dinners. So hard that she could buy the exact same matching couple’s sweaters we owned and claim they were company uniforms. So hard that she could completely ruin our wedding day. Because I loved him, I was expected to be gracious, understanding, and silent. But why? I reached behind my back and began aggressively tearing at the laces of my wedding dress. The custom, six-figure gown I had spent three months perfecting was ripped open with brutal force. Thomas’s eyes widened in shock. “Ann, have you lost your mind?!” He lunged forward to stop me, but I stepped aside. The heavy silk slid off my body, pooling on the dusty floor in a ruined, crumpled heap of white. It looked exactly like the wreckage of our seven years together. I stood before him in nothing but a simple silk slip. The air conditioning in the suite was blasting, but I didn’t feel the cold. When your heart is dead, the chill can’t reach you anymore. “Thomas, we’re done.” I threw those words at him, turned on my heel, and walked out. Tavi’s gasp and Thomas’s angry shouts were cut short as the heavy door slammed shut behind me. Barefoot, I walked down the freezing tiled corridor, leaving that golden cage behind. When I reached the grand ballroom, I saw my parents. The coordinator had ushered them into a quiet corner. My mother was frantically dabbing at my father’s face with wet napkins. My father’s shoulders were hunched, his usual proud posture entirely gone. The lingering glances of the remaining guests cut through us like knives. I walked over, slipped off my blazer, and draped it over my mother’s damp shoulders. “Dad, Mom,” I said, my throat tight. “Let’s go home.” My mother looked up, seeing me in my slip, and her eyes welled with fresh tears. “Ann, sweetheart, what about the…” My father pushed himself up from the table, his lips trembling, unable to find his words. I didn’t explain. I simply took their hands, and with my spine perfectly straight, I led them out of the venue under the suffocating silence of the room. Behind us, Thomas’s voice echoed through the lobby. “Ann! Stop right there!” There was a rare note of panic in his shout. I didn’t pause. I didn’t look back. Neither did my parents. We left that grand farce of a wedding behind without a single backward glance. The moment we stepped inside our house, my mother collapsed onto the couch, sobbing uncontrollably. My father sat in his armchair, lighting one cigarette after another, filling the living room with a thick, gray haze. I knew he was trying to use the nicotine to suppress the chest pain and his surging blood pressure. I didn’t cry. The tears had dried up the moment I walked out of that hotel. I went to my bedroom, pulled out my phone, and methodically blocked Thomas on every single platform. Contacts, social media, messaging apps, everything. In ten minutes, I erased seven years of history. Once that was done, I called my assistant. “Book me the earliest flight out of the country, anywhere will do. Also, list my penthouse at Starlight Heights for sale immediately. Price it to sell fast.” The penthouse was the wedding gift Thomas had bought me, situated right across from his corporate headquarters. He had told me he wanted to look out his office window and see my light on every night. Now, the memory tasted like ash. My assistant gasped on the other end of the line. “Boss, did you and Mr. Montgomery…” “We broke up.” I hung up, and a profound, quiet stillness settled over the room. That night, my father’s blood pressure spiked to a dangerous high, and we had to rush him to the hospital. Standing by his bedside, watching his fragile, sleeping form, the very last trace of affection I had for Thomas vanished. Thomas didn’t call. He probably assumed I was just throwing a tantrum, throwing a fit until I eventually crawled back to him like I always did. After all, that had been our dynamic for seven years. The next morning, a text from an unknown number lit up my screen. Ann, enough is enough. Come home. Stop making us the laughingstock of the city. Even now, his priority wasn’t me or my family. It was his precious reputation. I blocked the number immediately. On the third day, his mother, Mrs. Montgomery, called. Her tone carried its usual condescending warmth. “Ann, darling, I know you’re hurt. But you know Thomas. He’s a workaholic, he treats everyone with the same professional intensity. I’ve met Tavi, she’s a sweet, simple girl, not the conniving type you’re making her out to be. Don’t lower yourself to her level. Thomas was wrong about the wedding, and I’ve already given him a piece of my mind. Come back home, and let’s sit down as a family to discuss this.” Family? I let out a cold laugh. “Mrs. Montgomery, you seem to be mistaken. The moment I walked out of that hotel, we ceased to be family. Do not call me again. My father is in the hospital, and I have absolutely no patience left for your family.” I cut the call. Finally, the world was quiet. I spent the next week at the hospital until my father’s condition stabilized. During those seven days, Thomas made no attempt to reach out. I figured he was furious, angry that I had dared to bruise his ego. Good. A clean break was the best outcome I could hope for. On the day of my father’s discharge, the real estate agent called. “Ms. Ann, we have an offer on the penthouse. The buyer is willing to pay above asking price, but they have one condition. They want to meet you in person to finalize the paperwork.” Though surprised, I agreed to the meeting. We scheduled it for the following afternoon at the penthouse. I arrived early. Walking through the front door, the apartment was exactly as I had left it. Our framed engagement photo still sat prominently on the console table in the entryway, both of us smiling radiantly. I walked over, picked up the frame, and dropped it directly into the trash can. At three o’clock sharp, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Thomas standing on the threshold. He had lost weight, a dark shadow of stubble covered his jaw, and his expensive designer suit was noticeably wrinkled. He looked uncharacteristically disheveled. When his eyes met mine, they softened with a complicated mix of emotions. “Ann,” he rasped. I leaned against the doorframe, my expression completely blank. “You’re the buyer?” He nodded, taking a step forward to enter. I extended my arm, blocking his path. “Mr. Montgomery, we aren’t on those terms. You can inspect the property, but please respect my boundaries.” Thomas froze, staring at me. “Ann, do you really have to be like this? Seven years of love, thrown away over one minor mishap?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “A minor mishap? In your world, what qualifies as a major issue, Thomas? Do my parents have to die of a heart attack, or do I have to jump off this balcony before you think it’s serious?” The words hit him like a physical blow. His face went pale. “I didn’t mean it like that! Ann, I know I messed up. Just forgive me this once, please?” He reached out to grab my hand, but I stepped back, letting his fingers grasp empty air. “It’s too late, Thomas. The moment you chose to protect Tavi over my family, it was over.” I turned back into the apartment and pulled a folder from the coffee table. “Here is the deed and the sale contract. I’ve already signed my portion. The price is standard market value, transfer the funds to this account. I’ll have all my belongings cleared out within three days.” I pressed the folder against his chest. “Sign it if there are no objections. Don’t waste my time.” Thomas didn’t take the folder. He just stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “Ann, how can you be this heartless? You threw away the wedding dress. Now you’re selling the penthouse. You want to erase every single trace of us, don’t you?” I met his gaze, my voice steady. “Yes.” That single word seemed to shatter his composure entirely. His shoulders trembled, and his eyes welled with tears. “Why? Just because of Tavi? There is nothing going on between us! I’ll fire her. I’ll send her away and never see her again! Ann, just give me one more chance!” The arrogance was gone, replaced by a desperate, rambling plea. But I was done listening. “You’re missing the point, Thomas. The issue was never Tavi. It was you. In your heart, your career, your pride, and your needy staff will always come before me. I’m tired of betting my life on the hope that you might one day look back and see me.” Without another word, I walked into the bedroom and began packing. Thomas didn’t follow. He stood in the living room like a statue. I packed my clothes, my books, my makeup, stripping the apartment of any sign that I had ever existed there. Finally, I rolled my two heavy suitcases toward the door. He hadn’t moved an inch. As my hand touched the brass doorknob, his gravelly voice echoed from behind me. “Ann. Do you really think you’ll survive out there without me? Everything you have right now, who do you think gave it to you?” I paused, turning my head slightly. “Thomas, you’re about to find out exactly how well I can live without you.” I didn’t go back to my parents’ place. Instead, I rented a small, modern loft close to my office. I needed my own sanctuary to heal and rebuild. The public relations firm I ran had gained a decent reputation over the years. It was true that Thomas’s corporate backing had helped me during the startup phase. But I was no longer the fragile girl who needed to lean on him to survive. I had built a solid portfolio of clients who trusted my strategic mind, not my relationship status. The first thing I did upon returning to the office was call an all-hands meeting. “Starting today, we are restructuring our client portfolio. All active accounts and pending campaigns with Montgomery Enterprises and its subsidiaries are suspended immediately.” The room erupted into murmurs of shock. My managing partner and closest friend, Natalie, was the first to speak up. “Ann, are you insane? The Montgomery accounts make up nearly half of our annual revenue! You can’t just cut them off. We’ll starve!” I looked at her, my expression calm. “Natalie, I understand your concern. But there are some checks that aren’t worth cashing. As for the revenue gap, I’ll find a way to plug it.” She wanted to argue, but I raised a hand, silencing the room. I knew it was a massive gamble. But I also knew that as long as I kept even a single thread tied to Thomas, I would never truly be free. I had to sever it completely. Predictably, the news traveled fast. Within hours, Thomas called Natalie’s phone. She put it on speaker, looking at me nervously. “Where is Ann? Put her on the phone!” Thomas’s voice was laced with suppressed fury. Natalie swallowed hard. “Mr. Montgomery, Ann is currently in a meeting.” “A meeting? What meeting could possibly be more important than this? You tell her that if she keeps up this childish tantrum, I’m going to pull all my investments. Her pathetic little agency won’t last a single week without my backing!” I reached over and took the phone from Natalie’s hand. “Mr. Montgomery, is there a problem?” There was a sudden, sharp silence on the line. “Ann,” he said, his voice dropping. “You finally decided to talk. What is this stunt? Are you trying to force my hand?” I let out a soft laugh. “You think too highly of yourself, Thomas. I’m simply clearing out the trash. I’ve never liked using secondhand items.” I ended the call before he could respond. Natalie stared at me, her mouth slightly open. “Ann, that was incredibly harsh.” I shrugged. “When dealing with a rabid dog, you have to be fiercer than they are.” The next two weeks were brutal. Losing our anchor client put the agency’s cash flow in jeopardy. Several prospective clients, having caught wind of our fallout with the Montgomery empire, backed out of negotiations at the last minute. The staff was anxious, and rumors of impending layoffs began to circulate. Natalie was practically pulling her hair out. “Ann, we’re sinking. Maybe you should just throw him a bone? Just a quick apology to smooth things over?” I kept my eyes on my laptop screen, editing a fresh pitch deck. “Natalie, take a look at this.” I spun the screen toward her. It was a deck for an emerging technology startup called Apex Tech. They had developed a groundbreaking consumer software, but they lacked the marketing clout to launch it successfully. Natalie frowned as she scanned the slides. “Apex Tech? I’ve heard of them. They’re basically working out of a garage. No capital, no corporate backing. Even if we pull off a miracle for them, we’ll barely cover our overhead.” I closed my laptop. “Sometimes, you have to look at the long game. I trust my gut on this one.” I personally led our team to meet with the founder of Apex Tech, Liam. He was a young, sharp engineer with clear-cut features and a quiet, intense focus. But the moment he started talking about his product, his eyes lit up with an infectious, brilliant passion. I respected that drive. We clicked instantly, mapping out a bold launch strategy over a single cup of coffee. To prove our commitment, I offered him an unprecedented deal. “We won’t charge you any upfront retainer fees. Instead, we’ll take a percentage of the sales revenue once the product launches.” Liam looked stunned. “Ann, are you running a charity?” I smiled. “I told you, I believe in this product. And I believe in you.” To celebrate the signed contract, Liam insisted on taking me to dinner at a quiet, cozy bistro downtown. Halfway through our main course, my phone vibrated with an unfamiliar number. I slid the bar to answer, and Mrs. Montgomery’s trembling voice came through the speaker. “Ann, you need to come to Saint Jude’s Hospital right now,” she gasped, her voice cracked with panic. “Thomas was in a terrible car accident.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533217”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel