Category: English

The third time the System ordered me to humiliate Liam, the brooding, broke campus legend I had once adored, I hesitated. My voice was a guilty whisper in my own mind. “Do I really have to burn him with the cigarette?” The man kneeling on the floor, surrounded by scattered hundred-dollar bills, inexplicably looked up, his eyes dark and unreadable. The System’s voice was cold steel in my head. Deviation from the script will result in punishment. A chill crawled up my spine. But in the next second, something impossible happened. Liam lunged forward, snatching the smoldering cigarette from between my fingers. With a choked gasp, he pressed it into the back of his own hand. His eyes, blazing with a fierce, restrained disgust, met mine. “Stop the act,” he rasped, his voice raw. I froze. I hadn’t said a word out loud. How did he just play out the scene by himself? 1 The third time the System issued its directive—Humiliate Liam Walsh—I took the wad of cash he’d handed me and flung it into the air. The crisp hundred-dollar bills rained down around us like crimson confetti in the dim light of the club. His face, usually a mask of indifference, tightened for a fraction of a second. His thin lips pressed into a hard line. I curved my own lips into the sneer the script demanded. “Kneel,” I said, my voice dripping with manufactured scorn. “Pick up every last one. Do that, and maybe I’ll consider forgiving the interest you owe me.” It was a perfect, cliché villainess line. We were in Onyx, a place where the city’s elite came to burn through their trust funds. The colored light from the bar glinted off bottles of liquor that cost more than a semester’s tuition. In the velvet-draped booths of this gilded cage, anything could happen. Forcing a scholarship kid to his knees over a little debt? That was so mundane it wouldn’t even earn a second glance from the table next to us. Liam’s shadowed gaze darkened. A flash of anger, there and gone, replaced by that familiar, cold detachment. His obsidian eyes swept over me once, then he slowly, deliberately, knelt. He actually began gathering the scattered bills. A wave of snickering rippled through my friends. “No way, he’s actually doing it. So much for pride. I heard he was some kind of legend at Blackwood University. Doesn’t he have any self-respect?” Someone else scoffed. “Self-respect? Genevieve’s family paid for his scholarship. The guy doesn’t own the shirt on his back. What right does he have to self-respect?” “He really thought because Gen played with him for a couple of months, he could climb his way into the Sinclair fortune. Pathetic.” The people in my circle were all heirs to one fortune or another, but the Sinclair name carried more weight. They orbited me, and seeing me put Liam in his place was just another form of entertainment, another chance to get on my good side. The man on the floor didn’t even look up. His face was lost in the shadows, but I could see the tension in his hand as he gripped the money, his knuckles white. He could take it. Of course he could. This was the man who would one day become a ruthless titan of industry, cold and untouchable. The laughter around me continued. Laugh it up, I thought, a bitter taste in my mouth. You’re all on his hit list. Enjoy the party while it lasts. Oh, right. So was I. I reached for my cigarette, my hand trembling slightly. I tapped the ash into the crystal tray. Tapped it again. And again. Stop it. Stop shaking. On the outside, I was Genevieve Sinclair, the cruel, untouchable heiress. On the inside, I was out of options. I screamed at the System in the privacy of my mind. “Are you absolutely sure he won’t have me murdered the second he gets a chance?” We guarantee your safety upon completion of the plot, it replied, its tone maddeningly serene. “That’s not a no!” 2 The day I found out I was the villain—the “one that got away” who was destined to break him—I had just gotten Liam to finally admit he had feelings for me. Then the System appeared. It informed me that we were characters in a story. I thought I was living a romance novel cliché: the wealthy heiress relentlessly pursuing the brilliant, penniless boy with a wounded soul. It had been love at first sight for me. Liam was sensitive and cold, a fortress who pushed everyone away. He ignored my every attempt at kindness, actively resisted my affection. But I was persistent. For every step he took back, I took ten forward. I knew he was poor, so I secretly had gourmet meals delivered to his dorm. I saw that he had the grades for a top university, so I busted my ass to get into Blackwood with him. He worked three jobs to cover his expenses, so I anonymously paid his tuition and loaded his meal card with funds. I was determined to be the sun that melted his iceberg. But the System told me my role wasn’t the sun. I was the cautionary tale. The beautiful, cruel memory that would fuel his rise to power. I didn’t believe it. It gave me what it called “corrective electroshock therapy.” I believed it then. And my world shattered. The System explained my purpose: to give the hero a taste of warmth and acceptance, only to drag him down into an even deeper hell. This betrayal was the catalyst. It would forge him into the dark, obsessive, and ruthless CEO he was destined to become. Only then could the heroine appear to “save” him and unlock the main love story. The warmth part was done. Liam had fallen for me. Now came the torture. The part that would trigger his transformation. I refused. The System informed me that refusal meant erasure from existence. Okay, then. I guess I’d do it. I kind of wanted to live. Under its duress, I began the first act of humiliation. It was the day after we officially became a couple. He came to meet me, holding a small bouquet of flowers. They were perfect, delicate, with beads of morning dew clinging to the petals. I recognized a few of the blooms; they were outrageously expensive. I couldn’t imagine how long he must have saved. He believed I deserved the best. He walked toward me through the soft morning mist, a rare, gentle smile on his face that made him look impossibly young. I met his hopeful gaze, forced my lips into a cold line, and delivered the first line of the script. “Liam.” “I was just playing with you. You didn’t actually take it seriously, did you?” “I mean, look at yourself. Did you really think you were worthy of me?” In an instant, the light in his eyes vanished, leaving behind nothing but a cold, dead emptiness. 3 My heart clenched as if squeezed by an invisible fist. A sharp, searing pain. I pressed a hand to my chest, forcing the memory away. Back in the club, the last hundred-dollar bill lay at my feet. He reached for it, his expression unreadable. I hesitated for only a second before lifting my stiletto and placing it on the back of his hand, over the delicate bones of his fingers. I didn’t press down. I couldn’t. I just held it there, looking down at him. He looked up, and for a moment, his dark eyes were like a viper’s, coiled and ready to strike. A flicker of raw hurt crossed his face before he masked it, his gaze dropping, hiding his emotions beneath the shadow of his thick lashes. A sudden chill went through me, prickling the back of my neck. My fingers, still holding the cigarette, started to tremble again. My eyes fell to his hand pinned beneath my shoe. It was a beautiful hand, elegant and long-fingered, but so thin you could see the blue veins beneath the skin. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t stop myself. “Do I have to burn him with the cigarette?” I begged the System, my voice a pathetic whine in my head. After all, that hand had to type code for his computer science classes. It had to wash dishes at the campus diner, prep lesson plans for his tutoring gigs, and create latte art at the coffee shop… he was working four jobs to pay me back. This was just cruel. As I stood there, torn, the man on the floor suddenly looked up again, his expression sharp. A storm seemed to gather in his eyes, followed by a flicker of… confusion? It was gone as quickly as it appeared. The System’s voice was sharp, threatening. Host, your function as the villain is to make the protagonist despise you. This will catalyze his transformation. Any unnecessary displays of compassion are counterproductive. Complete the script, and not only will your safety be guaranteed, but you will also receive a substantial reward. But deviation… deviation has consequences. The thought of erasure made my blood run cold. But then, Liam moved. He shot to his feet, his shadow falling over me. He took a step closer, an aura of suppressed fury radiating from him. His dark eyes locked onto mine. In the next second, he snatched the cigarette from my fingers and pressed the glowing tip firmly into the back of his own hand. He hissed, a sharp intake of breath, but his eyes, filled with a profound and weary disgust, never left mine. “Stop the act,” he rasped. I stared, dumbfounded. I hadn’t spoken. He had just followed the script… on his own. And after I’d stepped on his hand, he was calling me the phony? Did that even make sense? Was I actually driving him crazy? He held the cigarette there, his handsome face contorted in pain, until a dark, ugly mark blistered his skin. Then, he dropped the extinguished butt at my feet and walked away without another word. A cold, mechanical voice echoed in my mind. Liam Walsh: Corruption Level 30%. 4 A good villain never rests. As the primary catalyst for the plot, even though I was an heiress, my life now revolved around stalking the protagonist and finding new ways to make his life miserable. At six p.m., Liam started his shift at Cornerstone Coffee. Outside the large, clean windows, the sky was ablaze with a spectacular sunset. The black apron he wore was tied neatly, accentuating his lean waist. The warm, golden light of the setting sun fell across his sculpted features, softening the perpetual chill in his expression. He was beautiful, like a figure in a painting. I, however, was a nervous wreck, picking at my perfect manicure. “You’re telling me,” I whispered to the air, “that I have to throw this coffee in his face?” Across the cafe, Liam, who had been expertly crafting a latte, suddenly went still, his expression turning icy. I shivered, frantically blowing on the surface of my coffee to cool it down. “Doesn’t my character have anything better to do than follow him around and bully him all day?” I complained to the System. No. I wanted to scream. But it was useless. Steeling myself, I called him over. When Liam stood beside my table, his presence quiet and watchful, I put on my mask of contempt. “What is this?” I sneered, gesturing at the cup. “It tastes like plastic.” I closed my eyes, forcing out the last line. “Just like you. Cheap. And worthless.” The words hung in the air. I felt hollowed out, a ghost in my own body. Liam was silent. His lashes were lowered, and his gaze on me was complicated, unreadable. He just watched me, and the intensity of it made my skin crawl. Finally, a bitter, self-mocking smile touched his lips. He looked directly at me, his eyes cold. “Is this the new torture you came up with for today, Genevieve?” His voice was a low, rough murmur. “Are you having fun?” I sat up straighter, meeting his gaze. “Is this how you treat your customers?” Throw it. You have to throw it. My hand, wrapped around the mug, was shaking. Damn you, System! I screamed internally. How am I supposed to do this? This is the face I fell in love with! The System remained silent, offering no reprieve. In the next moment, Liam calmly took the cup from my hand, and before I could react, he splashed its contents onto his own face. Brown liquid dripped from his sharp jawline. The air seemed to freeze. His dark eyes, full of a deep and profound weariness, locked onto mine. “Satisfied?” he asked. I could only stare. He was doing it again. He was following the script by himself. System, is this right? The only answer was the cold, mechanical voice. Liam Walsh: Corruption Level 50%. 5 Before I could process what had happened, a gentle female voice cut through the silence. “Are… are you two fighting?” A girl in a simple white dress stood there. She was so exquisitely beautiful it was hard to look away. Her face was etched with concern as she looked at the coffee-soaked Liam. “I have a handkerchief. Would you like to use it?” Liam seemed startled, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to intervene on his behalf. After a long moment, he slowly took the offered cloth, his hand closing around it. She smiled, a lovely, kind expression. Beautiful, gentle, empathetic. Even without the System’s input, I knew. This was the heroine. This was Sophia Hayes. The System’s tone, usually so clinical, was buzzing with excitement. The kind-hearted heroine has finally appeared! The plot is getting back on track! But I couldn’t breathe. My entire body went rigid. The scene before me seemed to unfold in slow motion. Sophia turned to me, her brow furrowed in disapproval. “I know who you are. You’re that rich girl from the campus forums. I heard you two were a couple, but even so, you shouldn’t humiliate someone in public like this. He’s a person with dignity, not a toy for you to play with.” I bit my lip, the sharp metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. I had no defense. Nothing I could say was true. “She’s not my girlfriend,” a quiet voice said from behind Sophia. Liam’s gaze was fixed on the back of her neck, an intense, predatory look. It held a dangerous combination of obsession and determination. Yes! This is it! The possessive, obsessive love story we wanted! the System cheered. I lowered my eyes, a dense, throbbing pain spreading through my chest. My mind was a blank slate of white noise. I turned and fled, my escape anything but graceful. As I stepped out of the coffee shop, the last rays of sun had vanished from the horizon. Dusk was settling over the city. The System issued a new command. Have Liam walk you back to campus. “Why are the missions coming so fast now?” We have to strike while the iron is hot! I sank onto a nearby bench, the cool evening air raising goosebumps on my bare arms. I didn’t know how long I waited. Finally, the lights inside the coffee shop went out, and the streetlight above flickered on, casting a lonely yellow glow. Liam emerged, having changed back into his plain black hoodie. He once again looked like the same cold, withdrawn boy I first met. I took a deep breath, summoned my courage, and walked toward him. I adopted my most imperious tone. “Liam. It’s dark. Walk me back to the dorms.” My heart was pounding. His cold eyes slid over to me. “And why would I do that?” He took one step away from me, then stopped abruptly, as if a thought had just struck him. He frowned. “Have you been waiting out here for three hours?” I nodded, stunned that he’d noticed. A flicker of irritation crossed his face. The fingers of his hand flexed and curled, as if he were fighting back some powerful impulse. He started walking again, his voice flat. “Let’s go.” Something was strange about him. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was there. I followed a few steps behind him, a silent shadow. “Is that the whole mission?” I asked the System. “Just have him walk me home? Nothing else?” It seemed too simple, too kind. I was right. Do you remember the construction foreman your father fired for incompetence? the System asked. I froze. Tonight, he and a few of his friends are planning to kidnap you for ransom. Your task is to threaten Liam into protecting you, and then, while they’re fighting, you run. My heart seized. “Run? And then call the police for him, right?” And then go wherever you please. Your part in this scene will be over. I stopped walking. “That’s inhuman.” After this, Liam will be hospitalized for at least two weeks. The heroine will visit and take care of him. Their relationship needs this time to develop. “And if I don’t do it?” Then you’ll be the one in that hospital bed for two weeks. Its voice was utterly devoid of emotion. He’s the protagonist, the System reasoned. He may suffer now, but he’s destined for greatness. You don’t need to feel guilty. You’re simply helping him through his trials. But Liam was already brilliant. He didn’t need these senseless, manufactured tragedies. They were nothing but cruel plot devices to set up a tortured romance. This kind of story needed a monster to be saved. And my job was to create that monster. For the first time, I didn’t argue. I just walked in silence. A heavy, suffocating silence. So when Liam suddenly spoke, his voice cutting through the quiet night, I was caught completely off guard. “Genevieve,” he asked, his tone strangely serious, “in this whole world, what is it that you want most?” The answer came out before I could think. “Freedom.” Freedom from this script. Freedom from hurting him. I stopped in my tracks, my breath catching. I looked up to call his name, but I realized we had turned into a dark, narrow alley. It was a shortcut to campus I’d taken a hundred times, but tonight it felt menacing, like the jaws of some hidden beast. Panic seized me. I lunged forward, grabbing the hem of his hoodie to pull him back. But it was too late. Several figures emerged from the shadows, moving fast. In an instant, the tall figure in front of me spun around, pulling me into his arms. His body was a warm, solid shield around me. I felt the sickening thud of a pipe hitting his back, the vibration traveling through his body into mine. I hadn’t even had to threaten him. I had been trying to save him. A dull, numb ache spread through my chest. I had hurt him again. The next second, he pushed me away, hard. “Run,” he choked out. “Go!” I stumbled, catching a glimpse of his face—pale and grim—before I turned and ran. I ran with everything I had, my lungs burning, my feet pounding against the pavement. The System’s voice was triumphant in my ear. Liam Walsh: Corruption Level 70%.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385249”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

At my boyfriend’s birthday party, his best friend suggested a game: blindfolded, he had to guess which girl was his girlfriend just by touching her hand. His childhood friend, Chloe, squeezed through the crowd and held out her hand with a mischievous grin. “Don’t mess around, kid,” he laughed, pushing her away. “Your hands get all dry and flaky in the winter. No way you’re my girlfriend.” He walked over to another girl, took her hand, and declared, “My girlfriend’s hands smell amazing.” The room erupted in laughter. They jeered at him for not even recognizing his own girlfriend. I was pushed to the side, watching as he tried to defend himself, his face flushed. He even grabbed Chloe, who was laughing the loudest, and pulled her into a headlock. “Tell them, you little punk! Did I recognize you or not?” Suddenly, the whole thing just felt… pointless. I turned and walked out of the room. 1. Asher’s family was ridiculously wealthy. I almost got lost trying to find my way out of the home theater. By the time I made it to the living room, Chloe was there, directing the staff on what fruit platters to prepare and which wines to bring up from the cellar. She was completely at ease, chatting and joking with them like she was the lady of the house. She saw me. Her eyes flickered over me for a second before she looked away, pretending to be busy. Right. When Asher was around, she was a completely different person, all sweet and calling me “Lily-sis” like she was my adoring little sister. I’d fought with Asher about her a few times. Their easy, natural chemistry made me feel like an outsider. The first time I tried to break up with him, he smashed his phone in a fit of rage and swore he’d never be the one to come crawling back. A day later, he was standing under my apartment window, his eyes red-rimmed, begging me not to leave him. His voice, a deep, magnetic baritone, cracked with emotion. It was impossible not to feel my resolve crumble. He explained that he and Chloe had been friends since they were kids. They were practically family. Her family had recently gone bankrupt, and his mom had specifically asked him to look out for her. He saw her as a little sister, nothing more. “If you’re really, really uncomfortable with it, I’ll delete her number,” he’d said, his voice pleading. “Baby, you’re the only one that matters to me.” And right there, in front of me, he blocked her on everything. I couldn’t stay mad at him. I gave in. A few days later, Chloe was kneeling outside my apartment building in the pouring rain. I don’t know how long she’d been there, but I only found out when Asher showed up. “Baby, don’t you think this is a little much?” he’d asked, holding his umbrella over her head, getting soaked himself. “Go home, kid,” he’d said to her gently. “Don’t make a scene. What if you get sick? I’ll have to answer to your mom…” 2. He sighed, but he didn’t unblock her. Chloe just kept crying, her shoulders shaking, drawing the attention of my nosy neighbors. “Lily-sis, I swear on my life, I only see him as a brother,” she’d sobbed. “I’ve never crossed any lines. Please don’t make him do this to me. My mom thinks I did something to hurt him, and she cries all the time…” “My family is broke, Lily-sis. My life is already so hard. Are you trying to push me over the edge?” “Don’t I deserve to have friends? I was happy for you two! What did I do to deserve this?” Her words, choked with tears, echoed in my ears. I tried to pinpoint why she bothered me so much. It was the way she so effortlessly inserted herself between us. If Asher and I were sharing a drink, she’d squeeze in and tease him. She’d rummage through his bag, bring up inside jokes from their childhood that I couldn’t understand, and make me feel completely left out. Whenever he brought me to his parents’ house, she’d “coincidentally” drop by and act all chummy with his mom. So, was it my fault? Was I being too sensitive? I stood there in the rain, holding my own umbrella, silent. 3. After a while, my mom came down and brought us all inside. She gave Chloe a change of clothes. “My daughter can be a little stubborn,” she’d said, looking from me to Asher. “If you two are making her feel uncomfortable, then there’s a problem. Don’t push her, Asher. Until you figure this out, you and Lily should just break up.” “No!” Asher’s eyes were red as he immediately rejected the idea. My mom pulled me aside. She looked at me and sighed. “Honey, I don’t think blocking her is the answer. It’s just a temporary fix. Why don’t you give it another chance, see how things go? Or, if it’s too much, just end it now.” I was torn. In the end, when I walked back into the living room, Asher looked like he was about to fall apart. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t break up with him. So I compromised. They went back to how they were before, except now, Chloe made a conscious effort to keep her distance when I was around. What they did when I wasn’t there, I didn’t want to know. But tonight’s little party game was a stark reminder. The bond between childhood friends, even if you try to sever it, just comes back stronger. Whatever. I didn’t care anymore. My mom had seen it from the beginning. It was my own fault for dragging it out. I should have ended it the first time. As I was leaving, Chloe was humming a cheerful tune as she went upstairs, like a victorious general. A little while later, my phone rang. It was Asher, sounding a little drunk. I thought I’d be angry, or hurt, or that I’d cry. But looking at his name on the screen, I just felt… calm. “Baby, where are you? Are you mad at me? I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Joe’s girlfriend used your hand cream. I just guessed wrong. You can punish me, okay?” He was drunk, and his voice had that playful, pleading tone he knew I couldn’t resist. “We should break up…” 4. Before I could finish, Chloe’s voice cut in. “Seriously, Asher, are you hiding in the bathroom? You’re the birthday boy, what are you doing out here? Everyone’s waiting for you to cut the cake.” “Don’t mess around, kid, I’m on the phone.” “Don’t ‘kid’ me. Stop hiding. Joe and his girlfriend are fighting because of you. You need to go fix it.” I heard the rustle of clothes, the sound of a scuffle. He was probably laughing as she playfully hit him. “You wanna die, kid?” he said, still laughing. “Yes, yes, I do,” she retorted. “Now get in there. Joe’s girlfriend is crying.” He brought the phone back to his ear, his voice clearer now, the drunken slur gone. “Baby, what did you just say? Never mind, just come back inside. We’re cutting the cake.” He hung up. He and his childhood friend went back to the party. I rolled down the car window, the night air feeling cool against my skin. The call had ended a while ago, but I kept turning my phone screen on and off. My wallpaper was a picture of us. His profile was ridiculously handsome, and he was sneaking a kiss on my cheek, looking at the camera like he was showing me off to the world. After a long moment, I changed the wallpaper to a picture of a cat I had saved a while ago. It was a beautiful, lazy-looking cat, one paw raised in a beckoning gesture. Its eyes were so serene, so detached. I was actually chuckling at the picture when I got a text from one of Asher’s friends. 5. Asher’s Friend: *Lily, your boyfriend just got into a fight with Joe. Where are you? Can you come back and explain? It’s getting really awkward here.* I wasn’t going to reply, but then I remembered my hand cream. It was a special blend my grandmother made for me, with rare ingredients. You couldn’t buy it anywhere. I had our driver, Mr. Wilson, take me back. When I walked in, the room was a mess. Broken glass littered the floor. A lot of people had left, but a few familiar faces remained. Joe’s girlfriend was sobbing in a corner, with Chloe comforting her, handing her tissues and draping a jacket over her shoulders. Asher was sitting with one foot propped up on a stool. He glanced up when I came in, looking annoyed, then looked away. He looked like he wanted to say something but was holding himself back. He’d always been the pampered golden boy. This was probably the first time he’d ever had a real fight with a friend. Joe was being held back by a couple of guys. He was drunk and angry. Normally, he was Asher’s biggest hype man. He would never have laid a hand on him. I remembered he was the one who had suggested the guessing game in the first place, and the one who had cheered the loudest. “Lily, you’re here,” the friend who had texted me said. “You’re Asher’s girlfriend. Can you say something?” 6. He gave me a look, trying to get me to smooth things over. I smiled faintly. “Excuse me,” I said, looking at Joe’s girlfriend. “Where is my hand cream?” She stared at me, stunned. “Lily-sis,” Chloe cut in. “I don’t think that’s the most important thing right now.” I shot her a look. “You’re not going to tell me? Fine. I’ll just call the police and have them check the security footage. You probably don’t know this, but the ingredients in that little bottle of hand cream cost over five hundred dollars. That’s enough to press charges.” “So, you can either give it to me now, and we can pretend I just ‘misplaced’ it, or we can call the police and let them find it. Your choice.” Joe’s girlfriend immediately stopped crying. She pulled my hand cream out of her purse. “Is this it? I’m so sorry.” I took it, checked it, and put it in my bag. Asher’s friend tried to play peacemaker. “See? It was all a misunderstanding! Your girlfriend just accidentally used Lily’s hand cream, that’s why Asher guessed wrong. You know Asher, he’d never mistake anyone for his girl! He loves her more than anything!” “Yeah, yeah, he even recognized Chloe, there’s no way he wouldn’t recognize his own girlfriend! It was just a mix-up!” another friend chimed in. Joe’s girlfriend looked at Joe, then at Chloe. “Chloe gave me this hand cream,” she said quietly. “She said if I liked it, I could have it. I didn’t think anything of it, but now… maybe I should have.” Chloe laughed. “Don’t make it so complicated. I thought it was Asher’s, and you liked it, so I gave it to you. It’s just a bottle of hand cream, Asher wouldn’t mind, right? Don’t be so dramatic…” She looked so innocent, so helpless. Joe, enraged, slapped his girlfriend across the face. “Did I say you could take it?! Are you that pathetic? And now you’re blaming Chloe for your own mistake?” Chloe gasped and rushed to pull Joe away. 7. The room descended into chaos again as everyone tried to pull them apart. But they were all comforting Joe’s girlfriend, telling her he was just drunk. “I’m so sorry, Stacey,” Chloe was saying, holding Joe back while trying to calm her down. “He’s just had too much to drink. Tomorrow, he’ll be on his knees, begging for your forgiveness.” She even threw a glass of water in Joe’s face to get him to calm down. And he did. Stacey just stood there, her hand on her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. This time, she wasn’t crying. I was already at the door, but I couldn’t just leave. I walked back and stood in front of her. “Do you want to hit him back, or do you want me to call the police?” I said. “I’m here. I’ll help you.” She hadn’t been crying, but at my words, tears started streaming down her face. “Lily-sis, don’t you think calling the police is a bit much?” one of the guys said. “We’re all friends here. Joe didn’t mean it. If you let her hit him back, I promise he won’t fight back.” I had been bottling up my anger for so long. My hand was itching. So, while he was still talking, I slapped him. SLAP! The room went completely silent.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385265”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After we got back together, I shed all the bad habits Seraphina hated. The constant check-ins, the baseless jealousy, the petty score-keeping—all gone. I was a new man. So new, in fact, that when I found a pair of lace panties that weren’t mine on the passenger seat floor, I just calmly picked them up and set them aside for her. But Seraphina’s face hardened, and she slammed on the brakes, the car lurching to a halt. 1 Seraphina Rankin was a striking woman. With her sharp, aristocratic brow and vividly beautiful features, she radiated an alpha’s intensity. But right now, pinching the bridge of her nose, she just looked exhausted. “They’re Gilderoy’s,” she said, her voice strained. “The client dinner ran late last night. He took a few drinks for me and was in no state to drive, so I gave him a ride.” She paused, forcing herself through an explanation she clearly disdained. “He got sick in the car, so he changed in here. I keep a spare set of clothes in the trunk.” She looked at me, her gaze unwavering. “I’ve told you a million times, Asher. He’s the son of a family associate. I have to look out for him. That’s it. There was never anything between us, there isn’t now, and there never will be.” My silence seemed to unnerve her. A rare crack appeared in her usual composure, a flicker of helplessness I’d never seen on her face before. “What do I have to do to make you believe me?” “I do believe you,” I said calmly. “I’m not mad.” My words landed like a fist punching a cloud. Her expression went blank for a split second. “…Then why have you been quiet this whole ride?” I glanced at my watch, mentally calculating the time to the airport. “You once said you hated pointless chatter,” I deflected. “And I’m about to be late for work. Why don’t you just drop me off at this corner?” My eyes were on the traffic, completely missing the way her face darkened. “You always get off at the next light.” Her voice was low, suspicious. “The office is still two miles from here.” I hadn’t thought of that. Trapped, I met her searching gaze. “It’s early. If you’re not going to the office, where are you going?” Just as the doubt in her eyes began to crystallize… Ding—! The custom ringtone. Gilderoy’s ringtone. Seraphina’s interrogation instantly ceased. Her eyes darted away, a tell-tale sign of guilt. “It’s a work call. I need to take this.” She immediately unlocked the doors, all suspicion of me forgotten. “You can get out here.” I nodded and quickly unbuckled my seatbelt, but she stopped me. “Don’t be so reckless. Watch the road when you’re walking.” Her voice softened, taking on a placating tone she sometimes used. “That restaurant you wanted to try? I made a reservation.” Her gaze met mine in the rearview mirror. “I promised you I would never miss another anniversary. Happy seventh, Asher. I’ll see you tonight.” My hand froze on the door handle. Last year, on our anniversary, she’d left me for Gilderoy. The memory, once a source of searing pain, now felt distant, stirring nothing within me. “You should get that,” I said softly, my voice barely a whisper. “Don’t keep him waiting.” After all, Gilderoy couldn’t be kept waiting. And neither could my flight. As for our anniversary… this year, next year, and every year after, I would be absent. 2 I made it to the airport just in time. Once seated on the plane, a wave of dizziness washed over me; I’d skipped breakfast in my rush. My hand instinctively went to my pocket, and sure enough, my fingers closed around three small chocolates. Ever since I fainted from low blood sugar once, a long time ago, Seraphina had made it a habit to slip a few pieces of chocolate into my pocket every morning. The sweetness melted on my tongue, and the dizziness began to fade. But it was quickly followed by a lingering, cloying bitterness that coated my throat. Seven years together. How had Seraphina and I ended up here? At first, I truly believed Gilderoy was just a nepotism hire she had to accommodate because of his family connections. I told myself that was why she was so strictly professional with me at work while giving him special treatment. Rhonda, a senior manager in our department, constantly made my life hell with no consequences. But the moment she was slightly rude to Gilderoy, she was fired. Behind my back, everyone—knowing I was Seraphina’s secret boyfriend—had a nickname for Gilderoy: “the future Mr. Rankin.” I forced myself to accept her reasons, but then the “special treatment” bled into our home life. Time and again, she would drop everything we were doing to answer his call, to go to him. The explosion finally came one night. I was scrolling through a private work chat when a photo popped up. It was Seraphina, who had told me she was working late, with Gilderoy at a midnight movie screening. It was the very movie I had begged her to see with me, only to be flatly rejected. I had cupped her face, my eyes shining with hope. “Everyone says you’re supposed to see this with the one you love! Your one true love! We have to go.” Seraphina hadn’t even bothered to look up from her laptop. “Watching that kind of sappy romance is a waste of life,” she’d said. But in the photo, she was the picture of tenderness, smiling warmly at him, without a hint of impatience. The messages in the chat flew by, blurring before my eyes. When Seraphina came home, I asked her, my voice devoid of emotion, “How was The Last Vow?” A flicker of surprise—or maybe I imagined it—crossed her eyes. More likely, it was nothing. Indifference. “Were you following me?” My heart felt like it was being smothered by a heavy, wet towel. I couldn’t breathe. “Do I need to? That sweet little picture of you two is already making the rounds in the company group chat!” My chest heaved, my breath coming in ragged gasps. “Seraphina, if you want to break up, just say it! You don’t have to lie to me like this!” Her expression didn’t change. She was as calm as a spectator at a play. “If you don’t have even the most basic trust in me, then there’s nothing more to say. I’ve had a long day, Asher. I don’t have the energy to fight with you.” No guilt. No explanation. Compared to my wretched state, she was the epitome of grace. She even remembered to carefully place the paper bag she was holding on the table. The words “The Last Vow” on the bag were like razor-sharp shards of ice, stabbing straight through my heart. Every suppressed emotion, every ounce of resentment, crashed down on me at once, finally snapping the last thread of my sanity. I snatched the bag and, in a fit of rage, hurled it to the floor. It wasn’t sealed. The contents scattered, rolling across the hardwood with a series of soft thuds. I didn’t even look. My eyes, red and burning, were locked on hers. We stared at each other, locked in a silent standoff. A moment later, she turned and slammed the door behind her. I stood frozen, a statue of despair. It wasn’t until something small rolled to a stop against my foot that I finally moved. I looked down, my breath catching in my throat. It was chocolate. The floor was covered in round, handmade chocolates. 3 My resolve softened. I wanted to talk to her, to fix this. But for three whole days, Seraphina didn’t answer my calls. She didn’t come home. Swallowing my pride, I sent her a text. “I was wrong to lose my temper without talking to you first.” “But it’s also true that you said you were working late, but you were with him at the movies.” “Tonight is our sixth anniversary. I’ll be waiting for you at home.” “Can we please just sit down and talk this out?” I waited from morning until night, but she never came. As the clock neared eleven, I decided I had to go to her. I would find her at the office. On my way there, I ran into Rhonda, the manager Seraphina had fired over Gilderoy. She grabbed me, dragging me into a dark alley. “That bitch! I don’t dare touch Ms. Rankin’s precious boy, but I can sure as hell touch you!” My unanswered calls, my desperate cries for help—they were all useless. If a bystander hadn’t happened to pass by and scare her off, I would have been left with far more than a bruised face and a split lip. When my phone suddenly rang, I screamed, a raw, terrified sound ripped from my throat. I was a cornered animal. But then I saw the name on the screen, and the tension that had held my spine rigid all night finally crumbled. A wave of near-hysterical relief washed over me. “Sera—” I sobbed. “Hello?” Gilderoy’s smooth, cheerful voice came through the line. “Sera’s in the shower right now,” he chirped. “I saw you’d called a few times. Who is this? Is it important?” It felt like a hot coal had been shoved down my throat, searing the flesh, melting it away. The pain was so intense I wanted to carve out my own vocal cords. The simple act of hanging up the phone seemed to take every last bit of my strength. I limped to the nearest police station to file a report, a pathetic, broken figure. By the time it was all over, the clock showed 12:01 AM. A new day. That’s when Seraphina finally called. Her voice was as imperious as ever. “Have you learned your lesson?” And in that instant, I understood. She had done it on purpose. All those unanswered calls on our anniversary… it was my punishment for not trusting her enough. Tears streamed down my swollen face, stinging my wounds like acid. When I finally spoke, my voice was a raw, broken rasp. “Seraphina,” I said. “Let’s break up.” There was only a second of silence on the other end. Then, a cold laugh. “Fine. Don’t you come crying back to me.” She hung up without another word. She agreed to end it all, without a shred of hesitation. 4 At first, it was just the sleeplessness. I’d lie awake for hours, replaying every detail of our life together, terrified I had misjudged her, that I had condemned her unfairly. I reread our old messages, searching for clues, for anything. But the more I looked, the more the pain and resentment grew. I started to hate her. Six years. Six entire years of my life. I hated her for tossing me aside like a piece of trash, for being so utterly unaffected. At 4 AM one morning, consumed by grief, I deleted her from every app, every contact list. I dragged myself out of bed and, in a fury, gathered all her belongings—every last thing that reminded me of her. I stuffed them into giant trash bags and heaved them into the dumpster below. When it was done, I thought I would feel relief. But it was like I had finally swatted a mosquito that had been tormenting me for weeks, only to find that the blood splattered on the wall was my own. I went to work on time, acting as if nothing had happened. But only I knew that a huge chunk of my heart had been gouged out. Seraphina had grown there, but the flesh had turned rotten. To survive, I had to carve that putrid piece of me away. I just forgot that a wound that large is fatal, too. The full force of my emotional collapse hit me when I saw her at a company-wide meeting. Seraphina was as poised and self-assured as ever. In fact, she seemed even more vibrant, more powerful. It was as if losing me had no effect on her at all. Across the room, Gilderoy shot her a look he thought was secret, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. I stopped sleeping entirely. I couldn’t keep any food down. Seraphina didn’t use social media, so I became obsessed with stalking Gilderoy’s accounts, dissecting every post, every cryptic quote for any mention of her. It ended with me collapsing from hypoglycemia at work and being rushed to the hospital. That’s when Seraphina deigned to visit me. It was the twenty-ninth day since our breakup. She casually twirled the matching couple’s ring on her finger, admiring her manicure. “You’ve lost weight, Asher.” My gaze was empty. I opened my mouth, a hollowed-out puppet. “I’m sorry.” A triumphant smile spread across her face. And just like that, we were back together. 5 They say it’s better to rip the bandage off quickly. But that doesn’t work for everyone. For someone with a weak will, the best method is a slow, quiet withdrawal. You keep the person in the same place in your life, but you gradually, deliberately, stop expecting anything from them. You boil your own heart, slowly. The process isn’t so difficult that way. The end isn’t so painful. In the beginning, when I first started pretending to be magnanimous, my heart would still ache with a dull throb. But Seraphina seemed pleased with the change. She’d stroke my head, the way you’d pet a well-behaved dog, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’ve grown up, Asher.” After about six months of this self-prescribed therapy, it started to work. I truly became the person she wanted me to be. She’d stay out all night, and I wouldn’t call. Whatever she was doing with Gilderoy, I no longer asked. By the time I realized what had happened, that rotten piece of my heart had fallen away on its own, like overripe fruit dropping from a branch. I paused for a moment, then smiled. I immediately sent my resume to a company in France. They’d made me an offer once before, but I’d turned it down to stay with Seraphina. Luckily, they still wanted me. My flight was booked for two weeks from now. I had no intention of telling her. Our relationship had always been disposable to her anyway. The more understanding and agreeable I became, the less happy Seraphina seemed to be. I brushed it off, thinking I was imagining things, and continued working late as usual. One night, I came home, ready for a shower, when she stopped me. Her eyes lifted slowly to meet mine. “Is there anything you want to tell me lately?” I yawned, shaking my head in confusion. “No. What’s up?” “Nothing,” she said, her voice flat. “Go on.” But I soon learned that something was, indeed, up. Later that night, she wrapped her arms around me from behind, her breath hot against my neck. Her whispers were as soft as feathers, but her touch was bruising, like an interrogation. “Gilderoy’s been giving you a hard time at work, making you work all this overtime. Why didn’t you tell me, hm?” Her grip on me was relentless, a punishing rhythm that left me breathless. I had no idea what she was so angry about. All I could do was gasp for mercy. “Work is work… personal is personal… I-I’m being good.” Years ago, my old manager Rhonda—the one who assaulted me—was constantly sabotaging me. Once, she made me the scapegoat for a massive error. In a meeting with hundreds of people, Seraphina had torn into me without mercy. “Even an idiot wouldn’t make a mistake like this.” That night, I’d choked back my frustration. “You can check the email records. Why wouldn’t you even let me explain in the meeting?” Her face was a mask, just as it had been at the office. “Work is work, personal is personal. Asher, I only care about results. At the company, I’m your boss, not your girlfriend. I can’t play favorites.” But two days later, Rhonda was fired. The reason? She had been rude to Gilderoy. I was a top performer, consistently exceeding my targets. When Rhonda was gone, everyone assumed I would get the promotion. But instead, Seraphina promoted Gilderoy, who wasn’t even out of his probationary period. He took Rhonda’s position and became my boss. … Now, here I was, finally understanding my place. I wasn’t causing trouble. I wasn’t emotional. I was keeping work and our personal life separate. At my words, Seraphina’s movements froze. She released me. The light in the room was too bright. I covered my eyes, a physiological tear escaping from the corner. She tried to pull my hand away. I tried to resist, but I was too weak. “What are you doing?” She pried my hand from my face and stared into my eyes, her voice laced with a strange insistence. “You used to look at me.” I had no idea what had gotten into her. Annoyed, I met her gaze. In that instant, a flicker of anxiety, of pure panic, crossed her face. She suddenly covered my eyes with her own hand, as if shielding me from something. Then she leaned down and kissed me, murmuring my name over and over again, a desperate chant. “Asher. Asher.” 6 The next day, Seraphina called Gilderoy into a meeting and demanded a full report on his department’s progress. Of course, I had done all the work, and Gilderoy just stood there, stammering, unable to answer a single question. “If you can’t even speak to the basic functions of your role,” Seraphina said, her face an emotionless mask, “then perhaps you shouldn’t be in it.” The entire conference room was dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop. Gilderoy clapped a hand over his mouth and ran out of the room, sobbing. After the meeting, the breakroom on our floor was buzzing. “God, did you see the boss’s face today?” “You think the ‘future Mr. Rankin’ is about to be dethroned?” The gossip flew thick and fast. I was quietly making a cup of instant coffee when someone nudged me. “Aurora, why so quiet?” My English name at the new company was Aurora. It was a fresh start. Here, back in my old life, I was Asher. The code-switch was jarring. “Man, you’ve got nerves of steel,” the colleague continued. “The way Ms. Rankin laid into you that one time… you didn’t even flinch!” Honestly, I couldn’t care less about their drama. But in a den of gossiping coworkers, silence is betrayal. It would make me a target. So, I played along with a laugh. “Hey, I’m just a corporate drone. How can I compare to the heir apparent? Besides, lovers’ quarrels are just foreplay. A little drama is the ultimate spice for an office romance.” I fumbled with my mug as someone playfully shoved me. “Hey, knock it off.” Lowering my head to steady the ceramic cup, I added for good measure, “They’re a perfect match, honestly. Talented, beautiful… you know what? I’m totally shipping them.” Only after the words left my mouth did I notice the breakroom had fallen into an eerie, unnatural silence. I looked up. And met Seraphina’s glacial stare.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385281”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The company retreat was supposed to end with a fireworks display, but my fiancée’s pet assistant, Chad, decided to provide his own. There, under the cascading explosions of light, he dropped to one knee. He held out a diamond ring. “Willow,” he declared for all to hear, “marry me.” He was proposing to my fiancée, right in front of me. My colleagues shot me a fleeting glance, a flicker of pity, before turning back to the main event, instantly erasing me from the scene. “Say yes! Say yes!” they chanted. As I walked toward them, Chad shot me a venomous, triumphant smirk. “You’re not married yet,” he sneered. “Trash like you doesn’t deserve her.” I kept my eyes fixed on Willow. “He’s right, we’re not married. That means you have a choice to make. Me, or him.” “And why the hell would she choose you?” Chad’s voice dripped with arrogance. “Because you’re a high school dropout? Or because you’re nothing more than a glorified guard dog?” A wave of sycophantic laughter rippled through the crowd. “Choose you?” one colleague jeered. “You should take a good look in the mirror. If it weren’t for Ms. Donovan, you wouldn’t even have a job as a security guard.” “Exactly,” another chimed in, eager to curry favor with Chad. “He gets a pity job as head of security and has the gall to ask who she’ll choose.” I said nothing more. I just waited for Willow’s answer. Our engagement wasn’t born from passion. It was a promise I made to her grandfather. He’d asked for three years, a trial period for us to cultivate feelings. If we found love, we’d marry. But in three years, I hadn’t managed to thaw the ice around her heart. Willow didn’t need words. Her actions spoke for her. She extended her hand to Chad. He slid the ring onto her finger, pulled her into a deep kiss, and the world—including me—ceased to exist for them. I watched them, a strange calm settling over me. They held the kiss for an unnaturally long time, as if they wanted to be sure I was thoroughly disgusted. For three years, Willow had relentlessly tested my limits, maintaining zero boundaries with other men. I’d grown used to it. Numb to it. When they finally broke apart, Chad looked at me, his lip curled. “Are you still here? Get lost, unless you’re waiting for an invitation to the wedding.” I walked up to Willow, unclasped the watch on my wrist, and held it out to her. “This was your engagement gift to me. I’d like mine back, please.” Three years ago, at her grandfather’s insistence, we had exchanged watches. A symbol of loyalty and devotion to the time we would share. “Ugh, I don’t want anything you’ve touched,” Chad snapped, slapping my hand away. “Deal with it yourself.” He then turned to Willow. “As for the watch she wore… you have no right to it.” Willow understood immediately. She opened her purse and pulled out the watch I’d given her, handing it to Chad. She only ever wore it when visiting her grandfather; the rest of the time, it lived in her bag. With a dramatic flourish, Chad hurled my watch into the nearby lake. “You really want this piece of junk back? You’ll be a clown your whole life, nothing more.” My gaze sharpened. “I suggest you go fish that out of the water right now,” I said, my voice low and even. “And you’d better pray it’s not damaged. Because if it is, you couldn’t afford to pay me back if you sold your own soul.” “A cheap replica, and you’re acting like you’re the mysterious billionaire who bought the real thing at auction?” Chad scoffed. “You want to know why Willow never liked you? Because you gave her a fake. A tacky, worthless fake.” He was on a roll now, playing to the crowd. “If it were just some generic knock-off, fine. But you had to buy a replica of the Timeless Vow, the one-of-a-kind watch that sold for twenty-five million dollars! Do you have any idea how much people laughed at her behind her back?” “That’s because none of you know what you’re looking at,” I stated flatly. “That watch is the one I bought for twenty-five million. Now, I suggest you get it out of the lake.” “Did you hear that?” Chad howled with laughter, turning to his audience. “This guy, who’s only head of security because our CEO took pity on him, just said he spent twenty-five million on a watch!” The crowd erupted again. Willow finally spoke, her tone dripping with condescension. “Mason, I know you have feelings for me, but you can’t force love. I don’t know how you convinced my grandfather to agree to this engagement, but arranged marriages are a thing of the past.” She looked me up and down. “I was never interested in you. The man for Willow Donovan could never be someone as painfully ordinary as you. Now, please leave. Don’t embarrass yourself further.” “Willow, let me clarify a few things for you,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. “First, it was your grandfather who begged me to get engaged to you. Second, I genuinely tried to build something with you. But for three years, you ignored every effort I made. A relationship is a two-way street. You never made it into my heart, either. I don’t love you. I was simply honoring a promise I made to an old man.” “Your ‘effort’?” she sneered. “You mean sucking up to my grandpa? Helping him in his garden, playing chess with him, all so he’d emotionally blackmail me into this farce?” She waved a dismissive hand. “Fine, whatever. You ‘made an effort.’ You didn’t love me. Happy now? Just go.” If it weren’t for the watch, I would have already been gone. “You and Chad are together now. This isn’t about our feelings anymore,” I said, turning my attention to him. “This is about you throwing my property into a lake. I will have it appraised, and you will compensate me for any and all damages.” “Are you kidding me?” Chad’s face darkened. “You’re wearing clothes that cost less than fifty bucks combined, and you’re trying to shake me down for money?” He puffed out his chest. “You said you bought a twenty-five-million-dollar watch, right? Fine. Show me a receipt. Show me any proof of purchase. You do that, and I won’t just pay you twenty-five million. I’ll pay you fifty.” He paused, a cruel glint in his eye. “But let’s be clear. If you can’t produce that proof…” He picked up a paper cup, filled it halfway with champagne, and then deliberately spat a thick glob of phlegm into it. He passed the cup around, inviting the other snickering colleagues to do the same. Soon, the cup was full. He held it out, his eyes locked on mine. “If you can’t prove that watch is real, you drink this. Every last drop. Do we have a deal?” “Deal,” I said, pulling out my phone. The sight of Willow and Chad together didn’t stir a thing in me. But that watch… that watch was different. It held a significance they could never comprehend. I’d paid a fortune for it at auction for a reason—for a person. And it was that same person who had asked me to give it to Willow. Now that this arrangement was over, I was taking it back. If Chad had damaged it, he would pay. As I made the call, Chad continued his performance. “Look at him, putting on a show! Who do you think he’s calling? He probably didn’t even dial a number.” “Hey, Chad,” one of his cronies yelled. “You should probably put a time limit on it, or that cocktail’s gonna ferment!” After I hung up, Chad swaggered over. “So, when are your people getting here?” “An hour, tops.” “I’ll give you two,” he declared magnanimously. “Two hours. If your ‘proof’ isn’t here by then, you drink the cup. Deal?” “Deal,” I agreed without hesitation. “And if the receipts are all in order, you pay for the damages in full.” “Don’t worry,” he sneered. “If you have a receipt, I’ll pay you for ten of them.” For the next while, Chad, Willow, and their pack of followers played party games, pointedly excluding me. Chad even made a grand announcement that once the two hours were up, not only would I drink the cup, but I would also be fired. Then, a low thrumming sound began to fill the air. I checked my watch. It had only been forty minutes since my call. I looked up, my eyes finding the helicopter as it sliced through the night sky, rapidly approaching. Everyone else saw it too. It descended with a deafening roar, landing on a nearby clearing and drawing the attention of everyone at the retreat. “Now that’s real money,” a colleague whispered in awe. “Arriving by helicopter.” When the passenger door opened and a man stepped out, Chad’s eyes lit up. “Willow, look! It’s Chairman Sterling, from the Eternity Group! I can’t believe he’s here. This is a golden opportunity.” Willow straightened her dress, her confidence radiating. “Just watch. Once I introduce myself, even a man like him will be charmed. He’ll be a valuable friend.” Timeless Legacy, Legendary Craft. The Eternity Group was a centennial institution, a titan in the world of luxury watchmaking, revered globally. The watch now sitting at the bottom of the lake was one of their bespoke creations. Willow’s family company, Elysian Beauty, had seen a meteoric rise. In just three years, it had gone from a startup to a publicly-traded company—a legend in its own right. What she didn’t know was that its success was fueled by the anonymous formulas and covert support I had provided. But next to the Eternity Group, Elysian Beauty was a minnow. Naturally, she was eager to network with a titan like Sterling. Being at the same retreat was fate, she thought. She and Chad walked toward him, Willow’s posture perfect, her gait exuding the unshakeable confidence of someone who had never known failure. In her world, at galas and functions, no one ever refused her. She believed that if Sterling had been based in Bayview City, they would have been friends long ago. All the powerful figures she once admired were now in her circle, ready to grant any request. She was certain this would be no different. “Mr. Sterling, what a pleasure,” Willow said, extending a perfectly manicured hand. “I’m Willow Donovan, CEO of Elysian Beauty.” Chairman Sterling took her hand in both of his. “Ms. Donovan, the pleasure is all mine! I’ve heard so much about the legendary CEO from Bayview. I’ve been meaning to pay you a visit, but a long illness has kept me away. To meet you here… it feels like destiny.” His deference was palpable, exactly like all the other powerful men she’d charmed. The colleagues watching were stunned. They knew Willow was a legend, but to see the great Chairman Sterling treat her with such reverence was mind-boggling. Willow’s smile widened. She introduced Chad, making a point to say, “Mr. Sterling, this is my fiancé, Chad Foster.” At the word “fiancé,” Sterling’s expression flickered. When Chad extended his hand, the chairman’s warmth vanished. He gave it a perfunctory shake, his eyes darting toward me with a look of utter confusion. “Ah, I see you’ve heard about the situation with Mason,” Chad said smoothly, misinterpreting the look. “That’s all in the past now.” “Actually,” Chad continued, a malicious idea taking shape, “speaking of the past, Mr. Sterling, if I recall correctly, your company’s masterpiece, the Timeless Vow, sold for a staggering twenty-five million dollars.” He pointed a thumb at me. “This guy, Mason, bought a cheap replica of it for Willow. A few minutes ago, I threw that piece of trash in the lake, and now he’s demanding I pay him twenty-five million for it.” He smirked. “He even pretended to call your company, asking for receipts and proof of purchase to be delivered.” Chad looked Sterling right in the eye. “I’m sure you know the person who actually bought the Timeless Vow. Tell me, Mr. Sterling… was it Mason Hill?” He turned his smug, expectant gaze back to me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385297”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Leo and I had been married for three years. To the outside world, we were the perfect couple, deeply in love. But only I knew the truth. He’d slept in the guest room for all one thousand and ninety-five nights of our marriage. He had never touched me. I placed the divorce papers on his desk, ready to set him free. But as I did, my eyes caught on the journal lying open. She left her things in the bathroom again after her shower. The scent of her still clinging to them. I held out for as long as I could. Then I took the lace thing. Hid it. God, I hope she doesn’t notice. I froze. All this time. All the lingerie I thought I’d lost. He took it. 1 A black and gold fountain pen, not the one I’d given him, lay across the middle of the open journal. But the lingerie he’d written about—that was the set I’d bought just last week. My mind raced, tumbling back through the last three years. The silk nightgowns, the lace bras… all told, it had to be more than twenty pieces. I’d always found a rational explanation. A strong gust of wind on the clothesline. Left behind in a hotel room during a trip. Never once did I suspect Leo. He was too reserved, too stoic for something like this. After we were married, we treated each other with the careful politeness of cordial strangers. When he spoke to me, his gaze was direct, never straying, never lingering. How could he be capable of something so… furtive? But just last night, Leo had said the faucet in the guest bathroom wasn’t producing hot water. He asked if he could use my shower. He was in and out in thirty minutes, a quiet “thank you” as he left. I hadn’t thought a thing of it. But now I knew. He had taken it then. My own husband. Stealing my underwear. He couldn’t wear it, so what on earth was he doing with it? An unsettling image flashed through my mind, and a hot blush crept up my neck. I couldn’t let myself think about it. A powerful urge washed over me—to flip back through the journal, to read everything. To storm into the guest room and tear through his closet. But that would be a violation. A betrayal of the very civility we’d built our marriage on. I took a deep breath, forcing a calm I didn’t feel. I would pretend I saw nothing. Turning, I quietly closed the study door behind me. And the divorce papers, the neatly folded end of my marriage, found a new home in the back of my dresser drawer. True or not, I was about to find out. 2 Leo came home early that evening. The living room was dark, and he called my name as he stepped inside. “Audrey.” I steeled myself and walked out of the bedroom. “You’re back. I, uh, I didn’t make dinner tonight.” He wore the same impassive expression as always. Calling my name, my full name, never a nickname, never a term of endearment. But I had read his journal. The thought of him, with that cool, detached face, secretly using my nightgowns to— I couldn’t meet his eyes. He, of course, noticed nothing. He held out a Tiffany blue gift bag. “That’s fine. We can go out. This is for you.” I reached for it, and the back of my hand brushed against his fingertips. I pulled back as if I’d been burned. Leo’s eyes darkened for a split second, then returned to their usual calm. Today was our third anniversary. My gift to him was supposed to be his freedom. His was a pearl necklace. I swallowed down the knot of complicated emotions in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I forgot to get you something.” He didn’t seem to mind. “It’s fine. I don’t need anything. This necklace looked like you, so I bought it.” “Thank you,” I whispered. “Of course,” he said, his tone even. “Get ready. I’ll book a reservation.” I chose a strapless velvet dress and a faux fur shawl, then clasped the pearl necklace he’d given me around my neck. The look wasn’t overly flashy, but it was elegant. When I opened the door, Leo looked up, and for a brief, startling moment, he just stared. Our eyes met, and my heart gave a sudden, hard thump against my ribs. Before I could speak, he had already looked away. “Let’s go.” I watched his cool, retreating back and thought to myself, Let’s see how long you can keep up this act. … The restaurant was warm, and I was about to slip the shawl from my shoulders when he looked up, his gaze sharp and intense. Leo’s features were naturally severe, his brow strong, his eyes deep-set. His glasses usually softened his intensity, giving him a more scholarly air. But right now, in the dim light of the restaurant, I saw something dangerous in his eyes. “Wh-what is it?” I stammered. “Nothing,” he said, pushing his chair back. “I’m going out for a cigarette.” The moment he left, the suffocating tension in the air eased. For a second there, I thought he was going to devour me whole. 3 Over dinner, Leo mentioned he was taking a few days off. He asked if I wanted to go visit my father. According to my original plan, I would have presented him with the divorce papers before going home. My dad hadn’t been well since his business went bankrupt. He’d moved back to our hometown, renting a small house where he spent his days gardening. It was his therapy. He was slowly getting better, but he was under the impression that Leo and I were happy. I hadn’t found the words to tell him the truth. If I went home with Leo, the divorce would have to wait. He was waiting for my answer. I forced a smile. “Sure. If you’re not too busy, that sounds nice.” As we were leaving the restaurant, Leo stopped at the door. I looked at him. “Did you forget something?” His gaze, dark and unreadable, fell to my shoulders. “Put your shawl on.” His tone was so sharp it was almost a command. Then, as if realizing how harsh he sounded, he softened his voice. “It’s cold outside.” “…” After my shower that night, I stared at the clothes in my laundry basket, thinking of my most recently vanished bra—a low-cut style, trimmed with white lace. I really loved that one. I wondered where Leo had hidden it. An idea formed. I deliberately left the nightgown I’d just taken off on the floor of the bathroom. Leo would be coming to use the shower again tonight. If the nightgown disappeared, I’d have my proof. Sure enough, a few minutes later, there was a knock on my door. It was Leo, his face as cool and unreadable as ever. “Sorry to bother you again tonight.” I smiled at him, a picture of generosity. “It’s no problem. Go right ahead.” Listening to the sound of the running water, I felt like every second was an hour. I stared at the same page of my book, not reading a single word. Finally, he emerged. He looked completely normal. “Sleep well, Audrey. Goodnight.” “You too. Goodnight.” The moment he was gone, I bolted into the bathroom. And there it was. Or, rather, there it wasn’t. My nightgown. Gone. I was a mess of humiliation and anger. I stormed to the guest room door, my hand raised to knock. But then I heard it—a low, muffled sound from within. A strained, guttural groan. Oh my God. He wouldn’t be… right now… would he? My face was burning. Terrified of what I might see, I spun around and fled back to my room.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384959”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The same day I won the Golden Muse, I was accused of sleeping with the heir to the Lockwood empire. My rival, a rising starlet named Scarlett Hayes, posted the question for the whole world to see: 【What exactly were you trying to do, sneaking into my boyfriend’s room in the middle of the night?】 【Some people just don’t know their place!】 Her followers descended on me like wolves. Endorsement deals vanished overnight. I was, in the blunt and brutal language of the internet, canceled. Later, Liam Lockwood—the so-called heir—would broadcast his engagement party to Scarlett, a lavish affair streamed live for millions. But the celebration couldn’t begin. It couldn’t start because the true power of the Lockwood family, and the woman he worshiped, had not yet arrived. 1 #AudreyThorne: Homewrecker?# #AudreyAndLiamLockwood# #CancelAudreyThorne# The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes were the trending topics, glowing like poison on my phone screen. The second was the non-stop flood of calls from my agent. My head was spinning. I had no idea what was happening. I clicked the top hashtag. Dozens of gossip sites were circulating the same grainy photograph: me, alone, slipping into Liam Lockwood’s hotel room late last night. The story was technically true, but stripped of all context. After my acceptance speech, the studio had called. Liam Lockwood, the family’s notorious playboy heir, wanted to discuss a collaboration. They gave me a room number. On any other night, with any other man, I would have refused. A midnight meeting? Please. But Liam was Arthur’s nephew. And Liam had a reputation for being erratic, for playing by his own rules. A spontaneous, late-night business discussion wasn’t entirely out of character for him. When I got there, he claimed it was a mistake, that he’d been expecting someone else. I was in and out of that room in less than thirty seconds, utterly confused. But according to the internet, I was a predator, sinking my claws into Scarlett Hayes’s man. The worst part? I hadn’t even gone alone. My agent, Dana, had been right beside me. They’d just cropped her out of the picture. I was about to type out a clarification when a new hashtag shot to number one. It was Scarlett. She’d posted a new statement, aimed directly at me. 【What exactly were you trying to do, sneaking into my boyfriend’s room in the middle of the night?】 【Liam and I are rock solid. Some people should learn their place.】 Liam himself replied in the comments. I’ll only ever love my baby girl. Sent her packing last night, btw. Tell me I’m a good boy If there had been any doubt before, the golden boy of New York high society had just confirmed the narrative. The internet exploded. 【WHOA. I never would have guessed Audrey Thorne was that kind of person.】 【Always knew there was something off about her. So desperate. I bet she slept her way to that award, too.】 【My girl Scarlett is the real deal, the heir’s actual girlfriend, and she never uses her connections to get ahead. She relies on talent. Audrey is just disgusting.】 I saw it clearly then. This wasn’t just a misunderstanding. This was a calculated hit, designed to use my new-found fame as a stepping stone for theirs. Dana’s call finally broke through. “Those little shits!” she screamed, her voice cracking with rage. “Scarlett Hayes doesn’t have the talent to win a goddamn raffle, so she pulls this? After you beat her for the Muse? This is capital-B Bullshit! Our people can’t even post a comment defending you. They’re being silenced, accounts suspended. The bots are working overtime. I’m going to kill someone!” I started to speak, but a strong hand wrapped around my waist and gave me a playful squeeze. “Don’t,” I mumbled. There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by an even louder roar. “Did you just tell me not to?! Audrey, have you SEEN what’s happening?!” “Sorry, Dana. Not you,” I sighed. I shot a glare at the man beside me, but he just nuzzled his face against my cheek, his morning stubble scratching gently. “Morning, my love…” His voice was a low, sleep-gravelly murmur, but it was close enough for the phone to pick it up. Before Dana could detonate, I ended the call. I turned to face Arthur, who just grinned and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. “Kisses, please…” “Kisses, my ass! Look at what your wonderful nephew has done!” I shoved my phone into his hands. Arthur took it, his smile fading as his eyes scanned the screen. The warmth in his expression vanished, replaced by a cold, quiet fury. His entire demeanor shifted. “I will make him kneel and apologize to you.” “Don’t.” I let out a short, sharp laugh and held up a hand to stop him. “I’ll handle this myself.” I looked at Arthur’s face, that handsome, infuriating face, and snapped a quick picture. Then I opened my social media. 【Not interested, already married, and way out of your league. My husband, for the record.】 2 Arthur Lockwood. The youngest son of the Lockwood patriarch, and the true, undisputed head of the family. His father had sent him abroad for his education, and even after returning to the States, he rarely set foot in the family’s ancestral Manhattan townhouse. The press knew the reclusive powerhouse was married, but no one knew what he or his wife looked like. Even within the Lockwood clan, only the old man himself knew the truth. The moment I posted that photo, the internet—and my agent—collectively lost their minds. Dana showed up at my front door an hour later, radiating pure fury. She stormed into the foyer, ready for war, and then froze solid when she saw Arthur standing in the living room. “Hello. I’m Arthur Lockwood,” he said, his voice calm and polite. Even though she’d just seen his picture, the man in person was another story entirely. Dana’s jaw went slack. “You… hi… hello,” she stammered, fumbling in her purse. “I’m, uh, Audrey’s agent. Dana. Here’s my card.” She practically threw it at him. Then, her professional instincts kicked in. “That face. You were born to be in front of a camera. Mr. Lockwood, have you ever considered acting? Give me a year—no, six months—and I’ll make you the biggest star on the planet.” Arthur offered a gracious, small smile. “Thank you, but no.” With that, he turned and headed for the kitchen. “My love, I’m making you breakfast.” Dana’s attention snapped back to me. “What is going on?! When did you get married? Why didn’t I know about this?!” “Well,” I said with a cough, “it’s been about three years.” “Three years?!” Her voice climbed an octave. “THREE YEARS?! You kept this from me for three years! Oh my god!” I tried to soothe her. “Look on the bright side. If you’d found out later, I would have kept it from you for even longer.” Dana slapped her thigh in frustration. I grabbed her arm, trying to calm her down. Once she’d caught her breath, she got back to business. “Do you have any idea how many sponsors have dropped you because of Liam’s little stunt? The studio wants to cut its losses. They’re planning to stick you and your… husband… on a reality show. One last paycheck before they terminate your contract.” “Absolutely not.” The refusal was automatic. I could go on a reality show. But putting Arthur in that kind of spotlight? Exposing him to that world? I’d have to be insane. “If you refuse, the studio will sue you for breach of contract. The penalty clause will wipe out everything you’ve earned for the last decade.” Dana looked at me, her expression a mix of pity and exasperation. I opened my mouth to argue, but Arthur re-emerged from the kitchen. “A reality show?” he said, a thoughtful look on his face. “Alright. It might be interesting to see what my wife’s work is actually like.” Hearing his consent, Dana’s face split into a wide grin. “It’s settled, then!” Before I could protest, she was already backing out the door. “No take-backs!” she yelled, then paused as if remembering something. “Oh, by the way. Scarlett Hayes and Liam Lockwood are going to be on it, too. Those two are snakes, and Liam has the family name behind him. You need to be careful, you hear me? Don’t pick a fight you can’t win.” And with that, she was gone. 3 The news that I would be appearing on a reality show with Scarlett and Liam—and my mystery husband—sent the gossip blogs into a frenzy. The comments were a special kind of brutal. 【Seriously? That train wreck is going on TV now? With her photoshopped husband? Does the network have zero consideration for its viewers?】 【That guy’s photo is so obviously filtered. And even if he does look like that, why would he be with her?】 【You can say what you want about Audrey’s character, but you can’t deny she’s beautiful…】 【Who cares if she’s beautiful? She’s a homewrecker! Besides, there’s never been a single rumor about her being married. She probably just hired some actor to clean up her image.】 【Audrey’s always been a serious actress, not an influencer. It’s not like she’s obligated to announce a marriage to the public.】 【She’s not obligated to tell us, but she shouldn’t lie! I don’t believe for a second that she’s married. A woman who chases after rich men like that would never tie herself down to just one.】 I still had a bad feeling about Arthur doing the show. It felt wrong. And seeing the vicious things people were writing about him online made my stomach turn. He, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered. He leaned over my shoulder, reading the comments on my phone. “What’s wrong?” he murmured, a teasing note in his voice. “Are you worried your husband won’t hold up in person?” I just rolled my eyes at him. 4 Filming began three days later. The second Arthur and I arrived on set, the director had a camera crew swarm us. The show was being live-streamed, with a massive screen nearby displaying the real-time comment feed for all the cast members to see. As the camera zoomed in for a close-up on Arthur, he gave it a cool, indifferent glance. Most of the audience had tuned in expecting a freak show, but the moment they saw Arthur’s face, the chat feed erupted. 【OMG OMG, he’s actually that hot?! It’s not a filter?! Where did Audrey find this guy? I want one!】 【Okay, he’s definitely hotter than Liam Lockwood…】 【Audrey, move. It’s my turn.】 【So what if he’s hot? Scarlett’s boyfriend is the heir to the Lockwood fortune! Does Audrey really think parading some hot guy around is going to make everyone forget what she did?】 【Pathetic. Just go away already!】 Arthur and I took our designated seats. Scarlett and Liam were already there. Liam was dressed head-to-toe in bespoke designer clothes, a watch worth more than my first apartment strapped to his wrist. He shot us a look of pure disdain, his face a mask of cold arrogance. He was trying to intimidate us. But whatever pressure he thought he was projecting, it dissolved the moment it met Arthur’s calm gaze. It was like watching a housecat try to stare down a panther. After a few seconds, Liam’s composure cracked. He broke eye contact, his expression souring. The tight line of his mouth was a clear sign that the great Lockwood heir was annoyed. Scarlett, nestled against his side, smiled sweetly. When she saw me, she stood up and waved. “Audrey! You made it! Come, sit.” The live-feed comments scrolled by. 【Scarlett is just so kind and classy. Even after everything Audrey did, she’s still so polite.】 【She’s just rising above it. She doesn’t want to sink to that trashy woman’s level.】 I ignored her. On camera, Scarlett didn’t let her smile falter. But as I sat down, she leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “I have to hand it to you, I underestimated your nerve. Finding some pretty boy to play your husband just to save your career.” She looked Arthur up and down. “Mm, he is handsome. But these days, looks aren’t enough. You need power, connections. I hope you two enjoy starving together.” She pulled back just as quickly, her public smile snapping back into place. “We’re so happy you could join us.” I opened my mouth to respond, but Arthur put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer. “Audrey, my love,” he said, his voice carrying just enough for the microphones to pick it up. “Do you hear a dog barking?” A smile touched my lips. “I do,” I replied. “A rabid one, it sounds like.” Scarlett’s face hardened. She clearly hadn’t expected us to be so openly dismissive. There were three couples on the show. Besides us and Scarlett and Liam, there was a popular starlet named Tinsley and a young actor from her studio, Jason. They weren’t a real couple, just a work pairing. Before Scarlett could retort, Tinsley jumped to her defense. “Audrey, that is so out of line! Scarlett is a respected artist! How dare you and your… kept man… insult her like that!” Scarlett’s eyes welled up with crocodile tears. She tugged on Tinsley’s sleeve. “It’s okay, Tins. Audrey’s always had a bit of a temper. We all know that behind the scenes. Liam and I don’t mind.” And there it was. Another label pinned on me: the angry, difficult diva. Tinsley shot me a dirty look and put a protective arm around Scarlett. “Well, you and Mr. Lockwood are generous for putting up with her.” Scarlett just smiled graciously. Seeing his opening, the director hurried over to prevent me from speaking. “Alright, everyone! Let’s get the show started!” 5 The show was being filmed in a small, rustic village upstate. The producers had originally booked a standard bus for transport, but with the arrival of Liam Lockwood, they’d upgraded to a fleet of luxury SUVs. As soon as we settled into the plush leather seats, Tinsley sighed dramatically. “Oh, this is so much better. I’m a regular on this show, and let me tell you, the bus they usually give us is a nightmare. We have Scarlett and the Prince of New York to thank for this upgrade!” She then shot a smug look at Arthur, who was sitting beside me. “I bet some people have never ridden in a car this nice in their entire lives.” I nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. We haven’t.” Not one this cheap, anyway. I turned to Arthur, my expression full of mock sympathy. “You must be suffering.” A slow smile spread across his face as he toyed with my fingers. “As long as I’m with my wife, I’m not suffering at all.” Seeing us laughing together seemed to infuriate Tinsley, who was left sputtering, unable to think of a comeback. Scarlett, meanwhile, rested her head on Liam’s shoulder. “Liam, honey. Audrey and her husband seem to get along so well.” A smirk played on Liam’s lips. “She didn’t seem so happily married the other night.” The comments on the live-feed went wild. 【LOL, Liam’s burns are legendary! How does that feel, Audrey?】 【I wonder how much Audrey is paying that guy per day to be so cooperative.】 【Can I get his number? I’d book him for a month.】 Scarlett and Tinsley giggled, delighted by Liam’s jab. Scarlett gave Tinsley a subtle nod. Tinsley, ever the loyal attack dog, turned her attention back to me. “Audrey, the internet is blowing up with people calling you a shameless homewrecker for what you did. What are your thoughts on that?” A cold smile touched my lips. “My thoughts? I think it’s fascinating to watch a pack of hyenas invent a narrative out of thin air. It’s like watching someone sprint to catch a turd someone else just dropped. You know why the delivery guy only ever brings you one package at a time?” Tinsley instinctively asked, “Why?” “Because you’re a single-use tool.” “You—!” It took her a second, but when it landed, she looked like she wanted to lunge at me. Scarlett quickly grabbed her arm. “Audrey, you should really try to be more humble. I can forgive how you treat me, but we’re on a show right now. We all have to get along. Bullying Tinsley like this is just too much.” Tinsley immediately started playing the victim, slumping against Scarlett with a pained expression. 【OMG, I am so mad right now I could literally slap that bitch through the screen!】 【My poor Tinsley was just telling the truth, and Audrey goes nuclear on her!】 I turned my gaze slowly to Scarlett. “You can forgive how I treat you? No matter what? Then kneel and kiss my feet. Let’s see how forgiving you are then.” The color drained from Scarlett’s face, leaving it a blotchy mess of white and red. Liam pulled her protectively into his arms, his eyes, dark and menacing, fixed on me. “Scarlett wanted to do this show, so I’m not going to shut it down. But once this is over, you will pay for every single word you’ve said today.” Arthur’s hand tightened around mine. He met Liam’s glare with a look of utter calm. “We’ll be waiting.” 【Liam is so protective! A true Prince Charming!】 【Only our Scarlett could inspire that kind of devotion. She’s beautiful, kind, and patient, and she never wanted to stoop to Audrey’s level. But that witch pushed her too far!】 【I bet we never see Audrey Thorne again after this show wraps.】 【Does anyone else feel like Audrey’s husband is a little too calm? If it were me, I’d be terrified hearing that from the Lockwood heir.】 【It’s called bluffing. A lot of guys do it. He’s acting tough, but I bet he’s pissing his pants right now.】 The director scurried over to me, his eyes wide with panic. He leaned in and hissed, “Audrey, you and your husband need to tone it down, right now! You can’t afford to offend Liam Lockwood and Scarlett Hayes. If you piss him off and he pulls out, ruining my show, I swear I will make your life a living hell.” After his threat, he turned back to Liam and Scarlett, his face plastered with a sycophantic smile. “Mr. Lockwood, Scarlett! Shall we begin our first game?” Liam just tilted his chin up, a gesture of royal assent. 6 The first game was “Truth or Dare” via a spinning wheel. If you couldn’t complete the task, you had to drink a glass of bitter melon juice. The spinner landed on Liam first. His lips curved into a smirk. “Truth.” “I’ll ask! I’ll ask!” Tinsley’s hand shot up. “Mr. Lockwood, when are you planning to make our beautiful Scarlett an honest woman?” Scarlett blushed on cue, the picture of shy delight. The question sent a ripple through the live-stream audience. Scarlett’s fans immediately started cheering for a wedding, but some viewers were skeptical. 【A family like the Lockwoods… would they really let him marry an actress? Dating is one thing, but marriage…】 【That’s true. I haven’t heard anything about Scarlett coming from a powerful family…】 【What are you talking about? My girl Scarlett is beautiful and kind, why wouldn’t he marry her?】 【She’s at the height of her career! She makes more money than all of you keyboard warriors combined! How dare you say she’s not worthy? Are you?】 【Get real… no matter how famous Scarlett is, she’s still an employee… Liam Lockwood is true capital. He’s part of an empire.】 The debate raged in the comments until Liam spoke. “Scarlett is not beneath me,” he said, his voice laced with indignation. “Our families are of equal standing.” His words silenced the chat for a beat, then caused a full-blown explosion. 【EQUAL STANDING?! OMG!】 【The only family on par with the Lockwoods right now is the Devonshire dynasty… Don’t tell me Scarlett is… a Devonshire?!】 【NO WAY! Our girl never said a word about her family! She built her entire career on her own. She’s a true inspiration!】 Tinsley had clearly put the pieces together. She gasped, looking at Scarlett with wide, envious eyes. “Scarlett, you’re the Devonshire heiress? Is Hayes your mother’s name?” Scarlett looked down, the very image of humble modesty. “Yes…” “I never would have guessed! You kept that hidden so well!” I was taking a sip of water and choked, sputtering. Arthur gently patted my back, handing me a napkin to wipe my chin. I shot him a look. Does my father have a secret daughter I don’t know about? Arthur gave a slight shake of his head, indicating he had no idea either. As if to prove her claim, Scarlett announced, “Let me give my little brother a quick video call, see what he’s up to.” She borrowed her phone from a producer and called a contact simply listed as ‘Leo.’ A few seconds later, Leo’s face appeared on the giant screen. 【OMG! That’s Leo Devonshire! The Devonshire heir!】 Leo was clearly on a yacht somewhere, sun-drenched and carefree. “Hey, Scar. What’s up?” he asked. Scarlett smiled warmly. “Nothing, just on set with Liam. Wanted to say hi and see what you were doing.” Liam leaned into the frame and waved. 【Everyone knows the Devonshire family has two children. The son, Leo, is a total playboy and always in the tabloids. But the daughter is notoriously private, there’s almost no information about her online. I can’t believe it’s been our Scarlett this whole time!】 【This is the best surprise ever for us Scarlett fans!】 It was a big surprise for me, too. So big my jaw nearly hit the floor. Did my dad really have a secret family? And my brother knew about it? My mind started racing, playing out a hundred different dramatic scenarios. My expression darkened. If my father had actually betrayed my mother… “Alright, Scar, I gotta go. Talk later,” Leo said. “Okay, Leo. Have fun!” Scarlett ended the call. Leo Devonshire’s appearance had completely convinced the crew, the director, and the entire online audience. The director, in particular, looked like he’d won the lottery. He thought he’d just landed the Lockwood heir, but now he had the mysterious Devonshire heiress, too. This was a ratings goldmine. He immediately had his team create a new trending topic. #DevonshireHeiressMakesHerDebut# The show’s popularity surged. But the real bombshell was yet to come. Liam cleared his throat, a smug look on his face. “This Sunday is our engagement party,” he announced. “I’m having the entire event live-streamed, and you’re all invited to watch. “Oh, and by the way,” he added casually, “my uncle will be there.” A collective gasp went through the crew. The live chat went into meltdown. 【His uncle? Does he mean THE Lockwood? The one who actually runs everything?!】 【Holy shit! That guy is the real deal. I heard that even though he’s the uncle, he’s only a couple of years older than Liam…】 【Two years older and he’s already in charge of that entire empire? That’s insane!】 Tinsley practically vibrated with excitement. “Scarlett, can I come, too?!” “Of course,” Scarlett said magnanimously. “YES!” Tinsley cheered. I frowned and whispered to Arthur, “Are you going to that?” He shook his head. “First I’m hearing of it.” I just stared at him. After the excitement died down, the game continued. The spinner landed on Jason, the quiet actor paired with Tinsley. Since Liam had picked truth, Jason had to take a dare: pinch his nose and spin in a circle ten times. He did it quickly. On the third spin, the pointer landed on me. I, too, had to choose truth. This time, Scarlett asked the question. “Audrey,” she said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. “Is the man sitting next to you really your husband?” I laughed. “How many times do I have to say it? Are you having trouble processing?” 【God, Audrey is so infuriating. It’s a game, and she’s still lying! What’s the point?】 【If you can’t play, don’t play. She picked truth and still tells a lie. Is it that hard to admit you hired an actor?】 The producers announced the fourth round, but Scarlett held up a hand. “This is boring. I’m done.” Tinsley quickly chimed in. “Me too. What’s the point of playing a game if someone’s just going to cheat?” The director shot me a death glare. Just then, we arrived at the village. He ordered everyone out of the cars. 7 Once we were in the village, the director announced the first task. We had to help the local farmers harvest corn. The team that harvested the most within the time limit would get first choice of the houses provided for our stay. There were three levels: excellent, good, and poor. The moment the timer started, Arthur and I got to work. He tried to tell me to rest while he handled it, but I shook my head. This was a two-person challenge; I wasn’t going to let him do it alone. 【LOL, Audrey looks like a natural doing farm work. You can tell she didn’t grow up with money.】 【Right? And she’s so damn competitive. It’s just a game. Why does she have to try so hard? She should be more relaxed like Scarlett and Liam.】 At that moment, Scarlett and Liam were lounging in patio chairs, sipping iced tea under the shade of a portable fan. 【Did Scarlett just give up on getting the good house?】 【They’re royalty. They’re obviously not going to do manual labor.】 【LOL, look at them just staring at the cornfield, they look so lost. It’s adorable!】 【They’re hilarious. Such a breath of fresh air.】 Time was up. Scarlett and Liam hadn’t picked a single ear of corn. Tinsley and Jason had been working, but Tinsley had put her harvest in a separate pile. Jason had filled two large sacks. Tinsley had only managed half a sack. Without even asking him, she dragged both of Jason’s sacks over and presented them to Scarlett and Liam. Jason’s face fell, but he glanced at Liam, then at Scarlett, and said nothing. Scarlett beamed. “Oh, Tinsley, thank you! How sweet of you.” Then, she turned to me. “Audrey,” she said pointedly. “What about yours…?” “Ours? We got first place.” I smiled. Arthur and I had each filled two sacks. Without another word, I walked over and claimed the key to the best house. Scarlett’s smile vanished. Liam stood up, his voice dripping with condescension. “Interesting. Some people really don’t know how to take a hint.” “You’re right,” I shot back without missing a beat. “Some people are interesting. Do absolutely nothing and then expect a handout from others? Who died and made you king?” The live chat froze, then exploded. 【WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY?! IS AUDREY INSANE?】 【Did she just insult Liam Lockwood? TO HIS FACE?!】 【Who does she think she is?! He could end her with a single phone call!】 【Is this her new strategy? Playing the ‘blunt’ and ‘outspoken’ character? Trying to get famous by tearing down Scarlett and Liam?】 My words hit their mark. Liam shot up from his chair. His face was thunderous, the air around him turning cold. “What did you just say to me?” Arthur moved smoothly, stepping behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. He gently pulled me behind him, shielding me. He was a full head taller than Liam, and as he looked down at his nephew, his face was calm, but his dark, deep-set eyes were anything but. His voice was quiet, yet it carried a chilling weight.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384975”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was broke when I was in college, but I was dating a guy who was anything but. He was Leo Rhodes, of the New York Rhodes family. An heir to a fortune so old it was practically woven into the city’s DNA. Everyone in his circle called him by his last name, a title in itself. No one, from my world or his, saw our relationship as anything more than a temporary spectacle. Even he said it once, his voice a casual murmur over the rim of a whiskey glass: “We’re just having fun, Willa. Don’t make it serious.” So when I ended it, I did it for my pride. I lied and told him I’d fallen for someone else. That I didn’t want him anymore. The fury in his eyes was eclipsed only by the raw hurt that turned the edges of them red. He told me if I walked away, I’d better not live to regret it. I never looked back. Five years later, we met again. And the man the tabloids now called the cold, imperious head of the Rhodes Corporation cornered me on a dark film set. His voice was a raw whisper. “I told you to go, and you just… left?” He took another step, trapping me against the wall. “How could you be so goddamn cruel?” A tremor ran through his powerful frame, and his voice broke. “I’m the one who regrets it, Willa. I am.” 1 When the director announced that one of our investors was visiting the set, the name Leo Rhodes never even crossed my mind. At that moment, I was standing with my back to him, running lines with another actor. I could feel his presence more than see it, a gravitational pull surrounded by a hushed entourage of producers and executives. He was just a few feet away, standing behind the monitors. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. My fingers tightened on my script, the cheap paper crinkling into permanent folds. Thankfully, the lead producer, a man named Stan, scurried over to greet the star of our film. He gestured grandly in Leo’s direction. “Mr. Rhodes, I’d like you to meet our leading lady. She’s one of the hottest rising stars right now.” The woman, her makeup a flawless mask of ambition, turned a brilliant, practiced smile on Leo. “Mr. Rhodes, we met once at a gala at the Met. I don’t know if you’d remember?” Leo barely acknowledged her. He lifted his gaze for a fraction of a second before it dropped back to the monitors, his expression unreadable. He stared at the screen, his eyes dark and intense. For a split second, I saw a storm gather in their depths—a tidal wave of something fierce and unnamable—before it was gone, leaving behind only a calm, chilling surface. The producer, flustered by the dismissal, glanced at the monitor, trying to see what had captured the titan’s attention. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Rhodes? Is everything alright?” A slow, cool smile touched Leo’s lips. “Everything’s fine,” he said, his voice a low murmur that still managed to cut through the set’s low hum. “I just saw someone I know.” The words were casual, but they hit me like a physical blow. The back of my neck prickled. My heart began to pound a frantic, panicked rhythm against my ribs. “Oh! You have a friend in our cast? That’s wonderful! Who might that be?” Stan’s voice was slick with manufactured delight. In that instant, I felt a dozen pairs of eyes sweep over the set, searching. And then, I heard Leo’s voice again, as cool and sharp as ice. “Her.” 2 “Her. Maya.” The young actress standing in front of me, whose lines I had been running, gasped. I blinked, my mind struggling to catch up. For a disorienting moment, I had been certain he meant me. Stan practically shoved me aside as he rushed forward, enthusiastically guiding Maya toward Leo. Watching them interact, a wave of dizzying relief washed over me, and the breath I’d been holding escaped in a silent rush. Thank God. Thank God it wasn’t me. All these years, and this was how we met again. The idea of some dramatic reunion of old flames wasn’t just cliché; it felt… rude. Disrespectful to the lives we’d built separately. Besides, they looked like old friends. Maya, completely unfazed by his reputation, playfully swatted his arm. “Leo! What are you doing here? I’m trying to run lines!” A lazy, familiar grin spread across his face, softening the hard edges of the man he’d become. “Your brother sent me,” he replied, his voice a low rumble. “Said to tell you to stop messing around and come home.” He looked nothing like the volatile, short-tempered man I remembered. And from the sycophantic grin on Stan’s face, it was clear this reunion was a welcome one. So welcome, in fact, that the director and producers immediately suggested they continue their conversation over dinner at a nearby restaurant. Leo, surprisingly, didn’t refuse. I watched their retreating figures, a small crowd parting before them like the Red Sea. I clutched the script, now mangled beyond recognition, and let out another slow breath. I had survived. The day was finally over. But just as the group was about to round the corner, Maya suddenly turned back. Her bright, youthful voice echoed across the now-quiet set. “Willa! Hey, Willa! You want to come to dinner with us?” 3 For a heartbeat, time froze. The world went silent, and every face on set turned to look at me. When my brain finally rebooted, my first instinct was to hide. I ducked my head, letting my hair fall forward to shield my face. “No, thanks! You guys go ahead. I’ve got plans tonight,” I called back, my voice sounding strained and unfamiliar. I didn’t wait for a reply. I turned and walked away, my steps quick and clumsy, bordering on a run. I had no idea if he’d recognized me. The lighting on set had been dim, chaotic. Maybe he never got a clear look. Or maybe he did, and the woman he saw now held no significance for him. The girl from five years ago was a ghost, and he had no interest in acknowledging her. After all, our breakup had been a public humiliation. I had wounded the pride of a man who had never known anything but victory. I had dumped him, coldly and decisively, in a way that had shocked everyone in our orbit. I was the one who walked away. But I was also the one who cried myself to sleep for months afterward. I could still hear his voice from that day, laced with a pain so deep it had curdled into rage. “Willa Hayes, if you walk out that door today, don’t you dare regret it.” His jaw was tight, his eyes burning. “Because if I ever see you again, I swear to God I will not let you go.” I knew he was capable of making my life a living hell. So I packed my bags that night and disappeared. I never looked back. Until now. Five years later, and we were breathing the same air. I chewed on my thumbnail, a nervous habit I thought I’d kicked years ago. A cold dread seeped into my bones. Surely, after all this time… he wouldn’t still want revenge, would he? 4 Leo Rhodes had a bad temper. That wasn’t just my opinion; it was a universally acknowledged fact by anyone who knew him during our college years at NYU. He was the crown prince of New York City, the kind of guy who commanded respect and fear with a single glance. He had the family name, the looks, and a mind so sharp he never seemed to have to try. If it weren’t for the fact that I was drowning in my mom’s medical bills, forcing me to take a gig as a promotional model at a luxury car event, our paths would never have crossed. I met him for the first time in a private, members-only club in SoHo. He was perched on a high stool at the bar, legs crossed, lazily propping his chin on one hand as he watched me on a small stage, trying to smile my way through a Q&A with the event’s host. The friend who got me the gig had said there was a bonus—a big one—for staying for the “private viewing” afterward, an exclusive showcase for the city’s young and wealthy elite. The word “bonus” was a siren song I couldn’t resist. So there I was, in a borrowed cocktail dress that was a size too small, teetering on heels and smiling at million-dollar cars until my face felt like it would crack. I knew I was pretty. My roommates always said I had the face of an ice queen but the eyes of a lost fawn, a combination that disarmed people who didn’t know the steel underneath. But I was naive. I had no idea how predatory their world could be. Before I had even stepped off the stage, a man with a fleshy, red face and a leering grin called out to me. “You’re one of those NYU girls, right? Need a little extra spending money? I can help with that.” A hot wave of shame washed over me. I wanted to scream, but the thought of that bonus kept my mouth shut. I pretended I hadn’t heard him. But in a place like this, a den of gilded excess, silence was encouragement. The murmurs around him turned into jeers and laughter. Just as the man lurched forward, his hands reaching for my waist, a barstool sailed through the air from the second-floor mezzanine. It crashed into him with a sickening thud, sending him sprawling to the floor, blood instantly matting his hair. He scrambled to his feet, clutching his head and roaring, “What the fuck? Who the hell threw that? You got a death wish?” That’s when Leo Rhodes descended the stairs. He calmly stubbed out a cigarette in a nearby ashtray, the smoke curling around him like a shroud. He scanned the room with a look of bored indifference until his eyes finally landed on me, cowering in the corner. He turned his gaze to the bleeding man. “That would be me.” His voice was quiet, but it silenced the entire room. His lips were pressed into a thin, merciless line. For a wild second, I was terrified they were going to brawl, right there, because of me. But the man, who seconds ago had been a raging bull, suddenly transformed. His face went pale, and a sycophantic, terrified smile stretched his lips. He started bowing and scraping, his hands wringing together. “A misunderstanding, Mr. Rhodes! A complete misunderstanding!” he stammered. “My apologies, sir!” He looked like a grotesque, bobble-headed doll. It was pathetic. And terrifying. That was the moment I understood. “Crown prince” wasn’t just a nickname his friends used. It was his reality. And it was the first time I saw his legendary temper up close. He completely ignored the man’s apologies. He simply nodded to the two security guards who had materialized at his side. “Break his arm,” he said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “The one he was about to touch her with.” After it was done, he sank into a chair, lit another cigarette, and rested the sole of his expensive shoe on the man’s chest, pinning him to the floor. “Do me a favor,” Leo said, exhaling a stream of smoke. “Try to keep the filth in your head from now on. Otherwise, I might just have to arrange a little procedure for you. To make sure your particular brand of stupidity doesn’t get passed on to another generation.” 5 A cold night wind whipped around the trailers. I waited until I was sure they would have finished dinner, then pulled on a jacket and slipped out of the RV. The film set was blessedly quiet during the lull before the night shoot. I walked down the familiar path toward the small diner I frequented, a comforting routine in a chaotic world. As I rounded a corner, I saw a silhouette standing in the narrow, moonlit alley. At first, I thought it was a crew member returning from a break. But as I got closer, a jolt of recognition made me stop dead in my tracks. Under the stark glow of the moon, dressed in all black, Leo Rhodes was almost one with the shadows. A cigarette dangled from his lips. He looked up as I approached, his eyes meeting mine across the short distance. In the ethereal light, surrounded by a halo of smoke, his dark, painted-on eyes looked exactly as they had the first night we met. The night he saved me. The night he ruined me. 6 The wind rustled through the trees, the only sound in the unnerving silence. My body went rigid. My first instinct was to turn and run. But his voice stopped me. “You’re an actress on this film?” I froze, my back still to him. I managed a small, tight sound. “Mmm-hmm.” “What role?” “The third lead.” “Going to get dinner?” “Yes.” “You know who I am?” “Yes.” The investor. The man who holds my career in the palm of his hand. His rapid-fire questions made my palms sweat. I had no idea what he was doing, what game he was playing. Before I could process it, he asked another. “Are you afraid of me?” … “No.” “Then why are you looking at the ground?” “The… the wind is strong tonight.” A low chuckle, raspy from the smoke, rumbled in his chest. “You look like someone I used to know.” My heart leaped into my throat. “Is that so?” I forced a lightness I didn’t feel. “What an honor. I guess I just have one of those faces.” “Maybe,” he mused. “Happens all the time in your industry, right? People looking alike.” I had nothing to add, so I just nodded into the darkness. Silence fell again, thick and heavy. I watched him light another cigarette, the flare of the lighter briefly illuminating the hard lines of his face. He seemed to be holding something back, a dangerous energy simmering just beneath the surface. A chill ran down my spine. I couldn’t understand the point of this conversation. I’d been in the entertainment business for three years. I looked different now, of course—more polished, more guarded. But I hadn’t changed that much. The dim light and his strange line of questioning left me utterly confused. Had he truly not recognized me? Or was I simply so insignificant to him now that I wasn’t worth remembering? Either way, it didn’t matter. This kind of casual, heart-to-heart chat was not something we were capable of. Not anymore. I pulled my jacket tighter around me. “Mr. Rhodes,” I said, my voice muffled. “I have a night shoot soon. If you’ll excuse me.” I stepped around him and started to walk away, my stride purposefully fast. “Willa Hayes.” The sound of my full name, spoken in his voice, made my heart stop. … 7 “Willa Hayes.” He said it again, tasting the syllables. “That’s your name, right? Maya mentioned it at dinner.” He paused, then added, as if it were an afterthought, “Same name as my ex-girlfriend.” “…” For a moment, my usually quick mind went completely blank. “What a… what a coincidence,” I stammered. “Yeah, a real coincidence,” he said, and in the darkness, I could almost see the ghost of a smile in his eyes. “Except she wasn’t as beautiful as you, Miss Hayes. Or as talented.” “…” The glint in his eyes, the subtle shift in his tone—it was like looking through a tear in time, seeing the boy he used to be. The boy I had loved. I was raised by a single mom. Her life was a sad, unlucky story. A cheating, gambling, abusive husband when she was young. She finally got a divorce, raised me on her own, and then, just as I was getting to college, she was diagnosed with brain cancer. So when people whispered that I was only with Leo for his money, I never denied it. Because it was true. I was desperate for money. And money was the one thing Leo Rhodes had in infinite supply. We were from two different universes. My world was scholarships and part-time jobs. His was trust funds and reckless freedom. The only things I had going for me were my grades and a face that people called beautiful. Everything I fought tooth and nail for, he possessed without a second thought. Even in academics, he could glance at a textbook once and ace an exam that I’d pulled all-nighters to study for. No one believed our absurd, mismatched love story would last. “He’s just playing with her,” they’d say. “There’s no way a Rhodes would ever get serious with a girl from her background.” Even I believed it. This was just a diversion for him, a way to kill time between parties and trips to Europe. But Leo… when Leo gave you three ounces of affection, he made it feel like a pound. I mentioned once, just in passing, that I missed the fall colors back home. Two days later, after flying for twenty hours straight from a business trip in London without any sleep, he showed up at my dorm, exhausted and rumpled, just to take me for a drive upstate. When I was delirious with the flu, he, a man who had probably never made himself a piece of toast, stayed by my side, clumsily trying to take care of me, on the phone with his family’s doctor one minute and trying to make me soup the next. He constantly made fun of my taste, calling it childish and boring. But he was always the one who showed up with a carefully chosen, ridiculously expensive gift that was exactly what I’d secretly wanted. He was the one who took me to the top of the Rockefeller Center, to the private observation deck, and attached a lock engraved with our names to the railing, right in the most prominent spot. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in his world. That he saw you, and only you. With my complete lack of romantic experience, I fell. Hard. I even let myself start to believe that maybe, just maybe, I was different. Maybe I was special to him. All of those illusions shattered the day a girl named Sloane appeared. … 8 “Willa! Willa, snap out of it!” “Huh?” I blinked, yanked back to the present. Maya was tugging on my arm, and I realized it was my cue. The director was waiting. I shook my head, forcing myself to focus, and dove into the scene with Maya. During a break, her face suddenly scrunched up in annoyance. She muttered under her breath, gesturing toward the director’s chairs, “Ugh, why is she here?” I followed her gaze. Standing next to Leo, who was holding court like a king, was a woman smiling demurely. Sloane. Five years had passed, and she looked even more polished, more expensive. Standing next to Leo, they looked like a perfectly matched set. A power couple. Even the crew members were sighing. “They look so good together.” I tuned back in to Maya’s bitter commentary. “She’s like his shadow. Everywhere Leo goes, she’s right there. Why doesn’t she just have a house built on his belt?” “Look at her, smiling and smiling. Her mouth is going to crack from all that fake, innocent-little-princess crap.” I listened with a small smile, amused by the sheer force of her dislike for this woman. Perhaps sensing her vitriol, or maybe just feeling our stares, the couple looked over in our direction. Suddenly, my eyes met Leo’s. Remembering our tense conversation from the night before, the unspoken things hanging in the air, I quickly looked away. But my gaze landed directly on Sloane. Her brow furrowed in displeasure. Her eyes raked over me, up and down, with an undisguised hostility that hadn’t faded one bit in five years. It was the exact same look she’d given me the first time we met. … 9 It was three months into my relationship with Leo. My mom’s condition was stable, for the time being. The money from my part-time jobs, combined with our meager savings, was just enough to get by. As my boyfriend, the guy who could solve any problem with a checkbook, Leo handled it with a surprising amount of grace. He never just threw money at me, the way people assumed he would. He respected me. He had asked once, his voice gentle, “Do you need my help?” I said no. He nodded. “Okay. But when you do, you come to me.” He wanted me to turn to him not because he was a bank, but because he was my boyfriend, the first person I should think of when I needed someone. I remember he used to come with me to my waitressing job. I was stunned that he never complained about the grime or the long hours. He’d just slouch in a booth, looking bored, and then without a word, he’d take the heavy crate of beer bottles from my hands. “What can I say?” he’d mumble through a yawn, his voice raspy with fatigue. “You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?” The words were a complaint, but the tone was laced with an undeniable, baffling tenderness. I’d watch him, with his pouting lips and weary eyes, and think that maybe he wasn’t the spoiled brat everyone made him out to be. That illusion was shattered on a rainy night, when I was cleaning up the last table. Sloane appeared out of nowhere. “So you’re the new girlfriend.” Her eyes, full of a strange mix of confusion and disgust, scanned me from head to toe. “His taste really has gone downhill.” She didn’t wait for me to respond. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Leo’s fiancée.” She let that hang in the air. “Yes, one of those old-fashioned family arrangements you see in the movies. A merger of dynasties. There’s no love between us, but let me be honest with you. Even if it weren’t me, it would never be you. Your… situation? Their family would never allow it. You’re not from the same world.” She smiled, a sharp, cruel thing. “Do you know why he isn’t here with you tonight?” She pulled out her phone and held it out to me. “Because he’s out street racing. You know what that is? Driving a car that costs more than your mother’s life.” I looked down at the screen. Leo’s defiant, handsome face filled the frame. The boy in the video was a stranger. Wild, reckless, and drenched in the kind of casual wealth I couldn’t even comprehend. It was exactly as Sloane had said: a world I could never touch. “Is he being patient with you right now? Gentle?” she cooed. “Don’t be a fool. You think you’re special to him? Everyone in our circle knows. He’s like that with everyone.” Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, making my skin crawl. But I still went to him. I had to ask. When I asked him about Sloane, he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. After a long moment, he told me she was just some obsessed girl who was in love with him, that she wasn’t mentally stable, and that I shouldn’t believe a word she said. At the time, I chose to believe him. 10 Then my mother passed away. I was lost in a fog of grief for over a month. I barely saw Leo. When I finally picked up my phone, it was flooded with messages from him. A one-sided conversation of his growing worry. Sweetheart, are you feeling any better today? I miss you. I’m at a bar with some friends. If you see this, can you come get me? I sighed, a hollow ache in my chest. I took the cash I had scraped together from working nonstop since the funeral and went to the address he’d sent. I found the private room, but I stopped outside the door. I could hear their voices, loud and boisterous. “Rhodes, it’s only been a few days since your girl stopped calling. You look like hell. Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for her.” “That Willa girl is gorgeous, no doubt,” another voice chimed in. “But you’re about to be engaged to Sloane. Don’t you dare bring that one home. Your old man would skin you alive.” Then I heard Leo’s voice, low and raspy. “We’re just having fun. Don’t make it serious.” Laughter. Then another question. “She’s so broke. You’re just throwing money down the drain lending it to her. You think she’s ever gonna pay you back?” Leo’s reply was impatient. “I never expected her to.” His words, so clear, so casual, pierced through me, one after another. My hand, clutching the wad of cash in my pocket, tightened until my knuckles were white. I knew Sloane had been trying to manipulate me. But I couldn’t deny the truth in what she’d said. The gap between Leo and me wasn’t just about family background. It was about worlds. So I borrowed money from everyone I knew, scraped together every last cent, and paid him back. And to salvage the last shred of my pride, I lied. I told him I’d fallen for someone else. I told him I didn’t want him anymore. His face contorted with rage. He demanded to know who it was, swore he would kill him. I couldn’t tell him a name because there wasn’t one. I never expected what happened next. Leo Rhodes, the proudest man I had ever met, grabbed my hand in front of all his friends, the edges of his eyes red with unshed tears, and begged me not to go. “Willa, please. Please don’t like someone else.” His voice was a broken whisper. “Please don’t leave me.” But I was cold. I pulled my hand away. “I have to.” The hurt in his eyes hardened into something dangerous. He spat the words at me, the final blow. “Fine. Go. But if you walk out that door, don’t you dare regret it.” And so I left. And I never looked back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384991”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 As the sole heir to the Sterling fortune, I was still invisible, especially to the three boys my father raised. I’d thrown myself at Liam Ashford countless times, only to be met with contempt. I thought he was just cold, until I saw him on his knees before our driver’s daughter, Sierra, swearing an oath. “Marrying her is a price for the Sterlings raising me. Once I control the company, I’ll give you the real wedding. You will be my only wife. As long as Evelyn doesn’t hurt you, I’ll pay her to disappear.” The day before the shareholders’ meeting, my father asked for my choice. I thought of Liam, Jax, and Ethan—how their eyes always slid past me. I smiled. “I am a Sterling heir. My marriage should be a merger.” “I’ll choose Damian Blackwood.” My father frowned. “Damian? Since the accident, he’s a paraplegic. They say he’s… incapable. Are you sure?” … My voice was soft, but the words were steel. “In our world, Father, there’s no such thing as true love. It’s all about power. And if it’s power we’re after, then the Blackwood alliance is the only logical choice.” His face was etched with concern. “I understand the logic, but what about the boys? The three I chose for you? Do none of them hold a place in your heart?” My father had adored my mother, but she’d died from a sudden aneurysm the year I was born. He couldn’t bear the thought of remarrying, yet he couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving the vast Sterling empire in the hands of a daughter. So, on the advice of a friend, he’d adopted three boys from an orphanage. His will was already written: whichever one I chose would rule Sterling Corporation alongside me, a united front against the vultures on the board. He loved me, I knew that. But his love didn’t change his conviction that a woman alone couldn’t command the respect needed to lead. I met his gaze. “Damian may be in a wheelchair, and the rumors might be true, but we can have children through IVF. He’s the only heir to the Blackwood fortune. An alliance with a powerhouse is infinitely better than propping up our house with orphans.” My father nodded slowly, a grim acceptance settling over him. “If those three couldn’t win your heart, then they have no place left at Sterling Corp.” If I had told him the simple truth—that Liam didn’t love me and I refused to force it—my father would have dragged him into his office and demanded to know what right a charity case had to refuse his daughter. I didn’t want him to use years of kindness as a leash, and I certainly didn’t want a bitter, loveless marriage. Besides, Liam’s words to Sierra had already turned my heart to stone. Letting them go quietly was the greatest mercy I could offer. As I left the office, I saw my father shoot Liam a look that could freeze fire. After dutifully seeing my father out, Liam turned to me, his brow creased with irritation. “What did you go crying to him about this time?” His eyes were filled with a familiar mix of disgust and impatience, as if I were some loathsome creature. Before I could answer, Ethan Cole, ever the cool observer, let out a short, humorless laugh. “What else? The usual complaints.” “That we don’t play with her. That we don’t worship the ground she walks on,” he drawled. Jax Ryder, the hot-headed one, sneered. “Honestly, Evelyn. It’s the 21st century. Do you really think having a fat bank account makes you a princess everyone has to bow down to?” The three of them stood shoulder to shoulder, a united front, their words like sharpened daggers aimed at my heart. A knot of genuine confusion tightened in my chest. “None of you want to marry me. Why has not one of you ever just told my father that?” My father, for all his old-fashioned ideas, wasn’t a tyrant. If any of them had said no, he would have cut them a check and sent them on their way to a new life. But they never did. The Sterling fortune was a cage they refused to unlock. Jax clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Oh, cut the crap. We’re your father’s charity cases, his pet projects. We’re the dogs he keeps in his kennel. Since when do dogs get to refuse their master?” Liam’s face was a mask of grim resignation. “If you have to choose me, then fine. Just… leave the other two alone. Don’t make their lives difficult.” At this, Jax and Ethan looked at him with profound gratitude, as if he were a martyr sacrificing himself for their sake. The sight of Liam’s noble act was so absurd, so twisted, it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I hadn’t even found my voice when Sierra appeared, scurrying behind Liam as if she’d seen a ghost. Instinctively, Liam shielded her. “She hasn’t done anything. Just leave her alone today.” I looked from him to the others, and a cold realization dawned. The three men who were supposed to protect me were now forming a human wall to protect someone else from me. It started five years ago. Sierra had just arrived at the estate and shyly gave me a cheap plastic barrette. As a welcoming gift, I gave her a Cartier bracelet worth a hundred thousand dollars. A moment later, as I was opening a box of macarons, Liam snatched it from my hands. “That was a keepsake from Sierra’s mother! You’d even stoop to stealing that?” he roared. I stared at Sierra, baffled, waiting for her to explain that it was a gift. Instead, she burst into tears and dropped to her knees. “It wasn’t Miss Evelyn’s fault! I gave it to her! She was so kind to me, she even gave me this beautiful bracelet. I’m not upset, really!” She started bowing her head to the floor, her performance so convincing it made the three of them see red, reminding them of their own precarious positions. “Just because you’re a Sterling doesn’t give you the right to bully someone into giving up their mother’s memento!” Jax had yelled. “That barrette might be worthless to you, but it meant everything to her! Give it back!” Ethan demanded. “Always the same, aren’t you? A spoiled brat who only cares about herself,” Liam spat. My face flushed with anger, but I swallowed it down, thinking it was just a misunderstanding I could clear up later. I held the barrette out to Sierra. As she reached for it, her hand “fumbled,” and the cheap plastic shattered on the marble floor. She bit her lip, drawing blood, and screamed at me. “If you were just going to destroy it, why pretend to give it back?” Liam, always the champion of the downtrodden, had leveled a cold threat at me. “Apologize to Sierra. Right now. Or I swear, I will call off this whole arrangement.” I had just confessed my feelings to him then, telling him he was the only one I would ever marry. He used that confession as a weapon, forcing me to my knees, metaphorically speaking. I was young, terrified of losing him, and too stunned to defend myself. So I apologized through gritted teeth and blurry eyes. And that one apology trapped me in a cycle of apology for five years. From that day on, every time Sierra saw me, she would either fall to her knees or burst into tears, like a mouse cornered by a cat. And I had never done a single thing to her. My face hardened. I looked straight at Liam. “If you’re so worried I’m going to hurt your precious Sierra, maybe you should keep her on a leash.” My words dripped with sarcasm, but he took them literally. “Is that a threat? What are you planning to do to her?” Jax clapped his hands together. “I know what this is about! It’s because we gave her The Celestial Ocean for her birthday, isn’t it? You’re going to make her pay for that.” Ethan’s gaze was glacial. “You have everything, Evelyn. Sierra’s never even had a proper birthday party. It’s just an aquarium. Is it really worth all this drama?” My blood ran cold. “The Celestial Ocean?” The Celestial Ocean was a massive, private underground aquarium, a project started the day I was born. Its main feature was a wall of flawless, deep-green emerald on the far side; when the water rippled, light would refract through the stone, creating an illusion of a living, breathing galaxy. It was set to be completed six months ago, and my father had tasked Liam with overseeing the final touches. It was meant to be my birthday gift, unveiled in one month. And now, my gift belonged to Sierra. My eyes locked on Liam. He was in charge of the project. No one could have gotten inside without his approval. He flinched under my gaze, a flicker of guilt in his eyes before it hardened into anger. “Sierra grew up poor, working her whole life. She’s never seen a real night sky. I just wanted to give her that one wish. Besides,” he added defensively, “the deed is still in your name, isn’t it?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair like a man at the end of his rope. “Look, stop making a scene. How about this? At your birthday party next month, I’ll officially announce our engagement. Will that make you happy?” He said it like he was tossing a bone to a stray dog. For a dizzying moment, I wondered if I was the one who had been adopted. But no one else seemed to notice anything wrong. They just looked at Liam with pity, as if he were making some great sacrifice. “You don’t have to do that for her, man. She’s a vicious, spoiled brat. You’d be better off joining a monastery,” Jax grumbled. “She’s probably going to be so thrilled she won’t know what to do with herself. Her life’s dream, finally coming true,” Ethan muttered. “Oh, Liam,” Sierra sobbed, “please don’t throw away your life for me! I’ll… I’ll beg Miss Evelyn for forgiveness! I’ll be her servant, I’ll do anything…” My throat felt like sandpaper. A single sentence escaped my lips. “I won’t be marrying you.” Liam’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. Jax and Ethan exchanged panicked glances, terrified I might choose one of them instead. The open disgust from the three people I’d grown up with was a physical blow. I had to get out of there before the tears came. I turned to leave, but Sierra grabbed my wrist. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she, once again, dropped to her knees before me. “Please, don’t punish Liam because of me. The three of them… they owe your family everything. They’re already beneath you. If you’re angry that they gave me the aquarium, if you’re going to tell your father… I’ll apologize. I’ll kowtow to you.” Thump. Thump. Thump. She began knocking her forehead against the hard floor, again and again, until a raw, red mark bloomed on her skin. Liam, his face a storm of protective fury, pulled her up. He whirled on me. “You say you won’t marry me, but let’s see you stick to that! What is this, some twisted game to torment Sierra? Is that all you know how to do?!” “This is just another ploy to get my father to throw her out, isn’t it?” I stared at him, my expression unreadable. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But you can rest assured, I will never choose you as my husband.” I expected that to be the end of it, but he lunged forward, his fingers digging into my arm. “If not me, then who? Ethan? Jax?” He took a ragged breath. “Jax is an artist; he wants to study in Paris. Ethan craves freedom. Isn’t ruining my life enough for you? Are you going to drag them down with you, too?” He looked utterly exhausted, as if I were a parasite that had been draining him for years. “Just promise me you’ll leave Sierra alone,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “If you do that, I’ll marry you. Just… please, stop all this.” I looked deep into his eyes. “You’ll get your wish.” He was terrified I would hurt Sierra. He was terrified of marrying me. Once I married Damian Blackwood, all his problems would be solved. I avoided him for the next month. On the day of my birthday gala, he finally showed up, his face a thundercloud. Ethan and Jax flanked him, their expressions equally sour. I shot a questioning look at my assistant. I had explicitly told her not to invite them, that the announcement had nothing to do with them. She just shook her head frantically, mouthing, They came on their own. I sighed and decided to ignore them. The guests, however, were not so inclined. “Mr. Ashford, you’re a true prodigy! That deal you closed last month must have netted Sterling Corp millions. No wonder Miss Evelyn only has eyes for you.” That deal was mine. I had negotiated it for weeks. Liam just signed the papers. “Mr. Ryder, your fiery spirit is a virtue. You stand up for what’s right. Miss Evelyn will be safe with you.” I suppressed a bitter laugh. Jax was the one who hurt me the most, treating me like a venomous snake he had to crush. “And Mr. Cole, such a handsome and refined gentleman. A fine choice for Miss Evelyn. We look forward to working with you.” The three of them moved through my birthday party like they owned the place. Just as I was about to step in and end the charade, they all glanced down at their phones. Before I could process what was happening, Jax’s face contorted with rage. He stormed towards me, and the world exploded in a flash of white. The crack of his palm against my cheek echoed in the sudden silence. My head snapped back, and I staggered, nearly falling to the floor. The entire ballroom went quiet. Guests scrambled back, creating a wide circle around us, their faces a mixture of shock and fear. Liam’s hands were clenched into fists. He grabbed Jax’s arm to stop him from hitting me again, then turned his furious gaze on me. “We’re here. We showed up to be put on display like prize cattle for you to choose from. What more do you want?” he snarled, his voice low and vicious. “Do you have to actually kill Sierra to be satisfied?” I was still reeling, the question making no sense. Seeing my confusion, Ethan’s lip curled in disgust. “You sent thugs to kidnap her while we were gone. Don’t play dumb. It won’t work this time.” The accusation hit me like a second slap. It was Sierra again, pulling her strings. I looked around the room, at my father’s friends and business partners. Not a single person stepped forward. In that moment, I understood. They had all bet on the boys. They truly believed the Sterling empire would never be mine, and they wouldn’t risk offending its future kings. I clutched my stinging cheek, my eyes locking onto Jax. “Apologize,” I commanded, my voice shaking with cold fury. He glanced at my tear-filled eyes and sneered. “Sierra almost lost her innocence. You just got a little slap. What have you got to cry about?” On cue, a heart-wrenching sob cut through the room. Sierra ran in, her designer dress strategically torn, her hair a mess, a perfect picture of a damsel in distress. Liam immediately stripped off his suit jacket and wrapped it around her, his expression a mask of pure revulsion as he looked back at me. “You’re more manipulative than I ever imagined. I would rather die than marry a monster like you.” Ethan, who rarely spoke, stepped in front of Sierra protectively. “Your mother couldn’t give your father a son, so he brought us in as tools to secure the legacy. We accepted our fate. But even that wasn’t enough for you, was it?” He shook his head. “Fine. There’s no reason to keep up this pathetic pretense of peace.” He turned and walked away without a second glance, caring nothing for the public humiliation he was inflicting on my family. As he reached the door, Liam threw one last pronouncement over his shoulder, his voice dripping with condescending power. “I will marry you. But you will be a wife in name only, a figurehead. If you want me to protect the Sterling empire, you will learn to behave.” I laughed. A raw, broken sound. Had they forgotten? Without me, they wouldn’t even be here. As the three of them made for the exit, some of the guests finally moved to stop them, to salvage the situation. But I raised my voice, a clear, sharp command that cut through the murmurs. “Let them go!” Sierra shot me a triumphant smirk over her shoulder, a conqueror leaving the battlefield. I stood frozen in the center of the room. My assistant rushed to my side, wringing her hands. “Miss Evelyn, what are we going to do? They’re all gone! Who will you choose?” The guests were muttering amongst themselves. “A woman is bound to marry out of the family eventually. If the three boys who know her best won’t have her, who will?” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, took a deep breath, and raised my champagne flute. “Ladies and gentlemen,” I announced, my voice ringing with newfound strength. “As you all know, tonight is not just my birthday gala. It is also my engagement party.” The massive screen behind me flickered to life, displaying the face of a man with chiseled features and eyes like chips of ice. A collective gasp swept through the ballroom. “Is that… Damian Blackwood? From New York?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385008”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 It was the year Jared Lavelle and Nina Volkov’s love curdled into the purest hate. Nina had taken three of his fingers with a butcher’s cleaver and vanished. Three months after she left, Jared Lavelle announced his wedding. And just like that, I went from a caregiver fresh out of college to the lady of the Lavelle estate. For five years, Jared cherished my clean slate, my innocence. He allowed me to become his vulnerability, his soft spot. Until Nina Volkov came back from Europe and shattered his ribs. I rushed to the hospital the moment I got the call. But I stopped dead outside his private room, my hand hovering over the door. Through the glass, I saw Nina drive a blade deep into Jared’s chest. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a brutal kiss. When they broke apart, Jared wiped a smear of blood from his lips, his voice a raw rasp of desire. “Nina,” he breathed. “God, I’ve missed you these five years.” … Nina’s face was a mask of ice. She shoved him away and slapped him hard across the cheek. That’s when I burst in. “Stop it!” Jared’s expression flickered with something uncomfortable as he let his hand drop from Nina’s waist. She glanced down at his retreating hand, a cold, sharp laugh escaping her lips. Her gaze, utterly devoid of warmth, swept over my simple white dress, dripping with scorn. “Elara. Perfect timing.” She gestured to a chair. “Let’s talk.” A shadow crossed Jared’s face. “Elara, go home,” he ordered, his voice strained. But my feet felt like they’d grown roots. Nina lit a cigarette, the same brand I knew intimately. An entire drawer in our bedroom was filled with them, a five-year constant. The smoke curled into my lungs, and I broke into a fit of coughing. She watched the tears well in my eyes, her voice like chipping ice. “Let me be frank, Elara. You’re not his type.” Her eyes raked over my white dress again, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. “The blood on my hands—on our hands,” she corrected, “could stain every white dress in your closet crimson.” As she spoke, she casually wiped the blood from her fingers—Jared’s blood—onto the pristine fabric of my skirt. “These five years? They were a gift. A little vacation I allowed you to have.” She leaned closer, her voice a conspiratorial whisper laced with undisguised menace. “But you should know, Elara. Stolen things always have to be returned to their rightful owner.” I stared down at the garish red stain blooming on my dress, a sickening knot tightening in my stomach. I finally found my voice, a weak attempt at defiance. “You’re the one who left five years ago, Nina. If it wasn’t for me, Jared…” Her brow furrowed in annoyance. She moved slowly, gracefully, but her strike was vicious. Her hand clamped around my throat, and she dragged me toward the open window, forcing half my body out into the cold night air. Jared, despite his injuries, shot out of bed, grabbing her wrist. “Nina, that’s enough,” he growled. She just laughed, a bitter, ugly sound, and shoved me out another few inches. The city lights swam dizzyingly below. “Are you stopping me for another woman now, Jared?” The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. My heart plummeted into a cold, dark abyss. With a look of grim determination, Nina reached over and yanked the small blade from Jared’s shoulder. A fresh spray of hot blood erupted from the wound, but only my face paled. “Jared!” Nina didn’t hesitate. Using the same knife, she carved a deep, ragged hole into her own wrist, then mine. Blood, warm and slick, soaked my sleeve, my dress. “I’m giving you another chance to choose, Jared.” In the space of a single sentence, my white dress was drenched in so much red it was impossible to tell its original color. Jared ground his teeth, each word a low snarl. “Nina, are you insane?” She said nothing, merely holding her mangled, bleeding wrist up for him to see. He hesitated for only a fraction of a second. Then, he scooped me into his arms and sprinted towards the emergency room. For the first time, I saw Jared Lavelle, always so composed, stumble in his haste. A nurse met us, pushing a gurney forward. “Put her down! Where is she injured?” Jared instinctively held up my left arm—the one that was completely unharmed. The air froze. The nurse stared, confused. But I understood everything. The wounded wrist belonged to Nina. With a look of pure contempt, the nurse shooed Jared out of the E.R. His face vanished behind the swinging doors, his anxious voice echoing in the hall. “Elara, don’t be scared! I’ll be right here waiting for you!” The nurse scoffed under her breath. “Doesn’t even know where the wound is. Some deep love that is.” She turned and saw the bitter smile on my face, and an awkward silence filled the room. The cut Nina had made was deep. They didn’t have time for anesthesia. I felt every pull of the surgical needle, the thread stitching my skin back together, searing the moment into my memory forever. When it was over, they wheeled me out into the hallway. It was empty. Jared Lavelle, the man who said he would be waiting, had broken his promise. 2 It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that a weary-looking Jared finally found my room. Seeing my eyes closed, he must have thought I was asleep. He slipped into the bed beside me, a familiar routine, pulling me into his arms and pressing a soft kiss to my hair. But a foreign perfume clung to the bandages on his chest. It wasn’t mine. It wasn’t even Nina’s. I opened my eyes just enough to see it: a faint, crimson lipstick stain smeared across the white gauze. A soft snore rumbled from Jared’s chest, but sleep was now a distant country I couldn’t reach. I shifted, turning my head away from him. Five years ago, Nina’s departure, coupled with a series of failed surgeries on his hand, had nearly destroyed him. He was a ghost, a hollowed-out shell of the man he once was. He’d shut everyone out, refusing to eat, drink, or sleep. Then I showed up with a simple bowl of homemade noodle soup. The moment he smelled it, something in his dead eyes flickered back to life. “I’ve lived on a knife’s edge for too long,” he told me later, describing that plain bowl of noodles. “That soup… it reminded me of what home tastes like.” For five years, I stayed by his side, patiently pulling him back from that blood-soaked abyss. He rewarded me with a pink diamond ring and proudly declared me Mrs. Lavelle to the world. He told me he could only truly sleep beside me, without the fear of being woken by the cold barrel of a gun. He told me that once things settled down, we would have a child. We would live a normal life. A home, a family, a future. Now, Nina’s return had shattered that future with a single, brutal punch. At dawn, Jared’s best friend, Leo Sterling, tapped lightly on the door. Jared gently eased me back onto the pillow and slipped out of the room. Leo’s voice was a low murmur. “Nina’s stable. She’s going to be fine.” I heard Jared let out a long, slow breath of relief. They stood in silence for a moment before Leo broke it. “Damn. It’s been a while since we’ve had an adrenaline rush like that. These last few years of peace have made me soft.” Jared’s reply was a quiet hum. “Too peaceful.” His words were a blade twisting in my chest. I didn’t know if he meant life had grown too dull, or if I had. Leo’s tone turned serious. “Now that Nina’s back, what’s your plan?” Jared paused, not answering directly. “If Elara hadn’t been with me five years ago… I would have been gone. I can’t just throw that away.” A bitter taste filled my mouth. So, he hadn’t forgotten. But then, he spoke again. “It’s just… sometimes, after five years of plain broth, you start craving something with a little fire.” In that instant, the foundation of love Jared had built in my heart over five years crumbled into dust. He was the one who said he was tired of living on a knife’s edge. And now, he found that life bland. Jared clapped Leo on the shoulder. “I’m going to check on Nina. Let me know when Elara wakes up.” After Jared’s footsteps faded down the hall, Leo’s voice came from just outside the door. “I know you’re awake, Elara.” Before I could answer, he pushed the door open and took a seat in the visitor’s chair, getting straight to the point. “I’m advising you to leave Jared,” he said, his gaze steady. “It’ll be better than the humiliation you’ll face later.” He paused. “I can have divorce papers drawn up. You want money? Name your price.” He leaned forward, his voice low and earnest. “The bond between Jared and Nina was forged in blood and fire, Elara. That’s not something five years of domesticity can erase.” I lowered my gaze, hiding the desperate helplessness in my eyes. It was true. For all these years, I’d been living in a separate world, isolated from Jared’s true life, his true self. An island of my own making. The beautiful future he painted for me was nothing more than a fantasy he’d spun to deceive himself. We had both forgotten the truth. His soul was colored in shades of black, stained with crimson. Leo’s voice was filled with a strange sort of pity. “How about we make a little wager?” After a long moment, I finally made my decision. “Fine.” 3 Jared didn’t show up again until noon the next day. I didn’t ask where he’d been. He, in a rare show of tact, didn’t explain. He gently helped me change out of the blood-stained dress, his touch as careful as ever. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Elara, I’m taking you home.” The drive was wrapped in a long-forgotten silence. Jared held my hand, but his gaze was distant, his mind clearly miles away. When we arrived at the villa, Nina was already there, leaning against the doorframe as if she owned the place. She shot him an impatient look. “Next time, don’t make me wait.” Then, without another word, she tapped a six-digit code into the keypad and walked inside. The casual, familiar way she did it made me feel like the intruder. Jared’s expression darkened. He opened his mouth to explain. “Elara…” But Nina, turning back from the living room, answered the question for him. “The code is my birthday,” she said with a dismissive wave. “It’s never changed.” She sank onto the sofa like a queen returning to her throne. Our housekeeper, Martha, rushed over, her face alight with joy, and grabbed Nina’s hands. “Miss Nina! You’re finally back!” she exclaimed. “I’ll… I’ll go make you your favorite noodle soup right away!” I stumbled, the world tilting beneath my feet. A chilling realization washed over me. The person who made this place feel like home for Jared… it was always Nina. I had merely stumbled into the gap they’d left in their endless war, using another woman’s comforts to pry open his fortified heart. Nina was right. These five years were stolen. They were never truly mine. Jared’s hand tightened around my cold fingers. He turned to the housekeeper, his voice sharp. “Martha! Get out!” Then he strode over to the sofa and hauled Nina to her feet. “Alright, what do you want? Why are you really back?” Nina didn’t even flinch. She simply reached out and pressed her thumb hard against his broken ribs. “I want the two warehouses on the Southside.” Jared’s face contorted in pain, but he didn’t make a sound. I knew those warehouses. In our first year of marriage, I lived in constant fear of getting a call saying he was dead. The first step in legitimizing the Lavelle enterprise was to sell off those properties. Leo had gotten into a massive fight with him over it. They were the place where he and Nina had built their empire from nothing. “Have you forgotten the bandages soaked in blood that littered the floors there?” he had asked. Jared had been silent then. He had discarded that part of his past for me. Now, Nina had effortlessly ripped open those old wounds, making him remember the days of gunfire and chaos. Jared’s voice was hoarse. “They’re gone. Sold them off years ago.” A flash of disbelief crossed Nina’s face. She was about to speak when the front doors of the villa imploded. A shower of shattered glass sprayed across the room, and tiny shards sliced into my skin. My new white dress was once again stained with red. Jared’s face was grim as he shoved me behind him. But Nina stepped forward, positioning herself right at his side. My fingers curled into fists. The two of them, standing shoulder to shoulder, a perfect, deadly pair, were a testament to my own powerlessness. In the next second, dozens of armed thugs swarmed into the house. A familiar, menacing voice drifted in from the doorway. “Nina, my dear. Long time no see.” Jared’s grip on my hand tightened. The sight of Silas Quinn’s face made my heart sink to the floor. He leisurely straightened his suit jacket and sat down on our sofa. “Nina, our deal was simple. The Southside warehouses for two blocks of my territory. Today’s the deadline, and I have yet to see any keys.” Nina faced him calmly. “They’re gone,” she said, her eyes flicking to me. “Jared got rid of them. For a woman.” Silas raised an eyebrow, his expression dripping with amusement. “Oh?” he purred. “Well, that’s a shame. In that case, Nina, your life belongs to me.” Jared exploded, lunging forward and grabbing Silas by the collar. “Silas! You dare!” Instantly, the room bristled with the sound of safeties clicking off. Dozens of guns were aimed at Jared and Nina’s heads. Silas looked utterly unfazed. “Jared, you’ve been playing the legitimate businessman for so long, you seem to have forgotten. The rules of the street don’t allow for broken deals. There’s no backing out. Only payment, or death.” After a long, tense moment, Jared’s hands fell away from Silas’s suit. He looked defeated. “Let Nina go,” he said, his voice ragged. “I’ll find a way to get you the warehouses.” Silas clapped his hands in mock applause. “That’s what I was waiting to hear.” He gestured to his men. “Take Mrs. Lavelle.” In that moment, a cold sweat broke out across my back. The thugs moved, but Jared’s first instinct was to rush toward Nina. He only seemed to remember me when he saw them grabbing my arms. “Silas, Elara isn’t part of this life!” he yelled, his voice raw with panic. “Let her go!” Silas’s friendly demeanor vanished. “I’m already showing you respect by calling you Mr. Lavelle,” he snarled. “You have a choice. I take one of Nina’s hands, right here, right now. Or I take your wife with me. You decide.” Jared went silent. From her place by his side, Nina watched me, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. My heart felt like a tattered flag in a storm. I didn’t want to hear his answer. I turned and walked out on my own. Nina was right. We were never from the same world. Silas rose from the sofa, his eyes cold and predatory. “Three days from now, at the Southside warehouses. I’ll be waiting.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385024”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was cuddling the little tabby cat I’d just rescued, burying my face in his soft fur, when a string of text suddenly floated in my vision: 【She has no idea, does she? That little furball is actually her ex-boyfriend.】 【Leo broke up with her because he’d just learned to shift into his human form and couldn’t control his… barbs. He was afraid he’d hurt her…】 【Tsk, tsk, the poor guy went away to practice for a whole year. Even his ‘equipment’ is much more behaved now.】 【If only she knew that her favorite flannel pajamas were already shredded to ribbons by a certain someone…】 【Can’t wait to see her crying and begging for mercy while Leo gets more and more intense…】 My eyes drifted down to the cat currently making biscuits on my chest. I snatched him up by the scruff of his neck. Sure enough, his little pink rocket hadn’t been retracted in time. Well, well. If he’s having that much trouble keeping it to himself, then maybe… I should take him to get the snip. Right now. 1 The cat struggled in my grip for a moment before going limp, staring up at me with a look of pure theatrical betrayal. If it weren’t for those ghostly comments, I never would have thought a cat’s face could be so expressive. Come to think of it, he did look a bit like my ex-boyfriend, Leo. Especially that accusing glint in his eyes. It was the exact same look he’d give me whenever he came crawling back to apologize after a fight. But how could Leo be a cat? In the two years we were together, everything was normal—except for the fact that he never, ever slept with me. He had a respectable job; I’d even met his parents. Then he broke up with me by vanishing into thin air. To this day, I still don’t understand how a living, breathing person could just ghost someone so completely. I even filed a missing person’s report, half-convinced he’d been kidnapped by a backwoods cult. And now these… whatever they are… are telling me he’s not just a man, but some kind of cat-shifter? A cold dread crept up my spine as I replayed the last few days in my head. When I was on the toilet, he’d lounge by my feet. When I took a bath, he’d hop right in and paddle around. When I slept, he’d find the warmest spot right in the crook of my neck. And don’t even get me started on the relentless biscuit-making on my chest. If he really was Leo… My gaze turned sinister as I looked at the tabby, whose ears were now flattened against his head in the classic “airplane” mode of feline terror. I grabbed him and stuffed him into the pet carrier. There was one way to find out for sure. A little trip to the vet should clear things up. 2 I hummed a cheerful little tune as I drove, while the cat huddled in the corner of the carrier, letting out a series of high-pitched, pathetic mews. It was a sound so saccharine it could give you cavities, and normally, I would have pulled over to comfort him. But now, all I could think about was him being Leo, and my teeth started to grind. He ghosts me without a word, and now he sneaks back into my life as a cat to feel me up? Oh, hell no. If he thought he was getting away with that, he had another thing coming. “Don’t you worry, Milo,” I cooed, giving the carrier a little shake. “After today, you’ll be able to start your new, carefree kitty life. Trust me, Mommy knows best!” The tiny body in the carrier went rigid for a split second. But he just stared at me with those wide, innocent eyes, let out a soft “mew,” and started to purr, a low rumble vibrating through the plastic. I hid a smirk. If he really was Leo, I wondered if he’d still be purring in a few minutes. The vet’s office was close. The moment I pushed open the door, the spectral comments flared up again. 【She’s really doing it! She’s going to get him neutered! Mia, you cruel, cruel woman! Leo’s family jewels are in danger!】 【Don’t just sit there, Leo, unleash your powers! Show her who’s boss!】 【I’ll bet a bag of tuna treats the King of the Shifters is about to have his cover blown!】 King of the Shifters? Him? Please. The young woman at the front desk smiled sweetly as I walked in. “Are you Milo’s mom?” she asked, her voice bright. “You’re here for the male neutering appointment you booked online, right?” I nodded, lifting the carrier. “That’s the one.” As the words left my mouth, the tabby’s head snapped up. Through the metal grate of the carrier door, I could see genuine, unadulterated terror in his eyes. The soft purring was replaced by a series of short, sharp hisses. His fur stood on end, making him look like a fluffy, electrified pom-pom, and his little paws, with their bread-roll toes, dug into the plastic floor in silent protest. 【Oh shit, Leo’s panicking. He’s finally panicking!】 【I can feel the terror vibrating through his very soul…】 【Snap out of it, Mia! If you actually get him fixed, think of all the fun you’ll be missing out on…】 【WARNING: SCALPEL AHEAD! HANG IN THERE, YOUR MAJESTY!】 The receptionist peered into the carrier at the bristling cat and giggled. “Oh my gosh, he’s so cute! Do you think he understands what we’re saying? He looks so scared. Aww, someone’s about to lose his little nuts…” A sharp hiss was her only reply. This just seemed to delight her even more. She reached out and poked one of his paws that was clinging to the grate. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. See? When you’re small and helpless, even your threats come off as adorable. 3 After a few minutes in the waiting area, a door to one of the exam rooms opened. A doctor’s deep voice called out. “Next, Ms. Thompson? You can bring the cat in now.” “Coming!” I chirped, feeling like a soldier marching into battle as I scooped up the carrier and headed in. The room was bright, clean, and smelled faintly of antiseptic. Dr. Evans, a kind-looking man in a white coat, adjusted his glasses and took the carrier from me. “Alright, let’s not be nervous. Let’s just take a look at the little guy and see how he’s doing.” The second he opened the door, the tabby shot out of the carrier like he’d been launched from a cannon. He did a few laps around the room, scrambling up the walls like a furry little ninja, before landing right next to my phone on the counter. His pink little paw pads started frantically tapping the screen. He’d already managed to type “9” and “1.” Ha… Was he actually trying to call the cops? I quickly snatched the phone and turned off the screen, giving him a tight, toothy smile. Dr. Evans, recovering from his shock, just chuckled. “Wow, what a spitfire. He’s certainly got good reflexes. The surgery should be no problem at all.” He called in two male assistants wearing thick, bite-proof gloves. The three of them cornered the cat with practiced ease and scooped him up. The tiny animal was pinned to the cold, metal examination table, letting out a series of blood-curdling screeches. His claws were fully extended, swiping wildly at the air. But he was just too small. He was no match for two grown men. He lay there like a furry, furious fish on a cutting board, utterly defeated. His amber pupils had contracted into thin, vertical slits, and his gaze was locked on me. I cleared my throat, pretending not to notice, and studied a chart on the wall. Whether Milo was Leo or not, getting him neutered was the responsible thing to do for any male cat. Dr. Evans seemed unfazed by the drama. He expertly began his examination. “He’s got quite the temper, this one. But don’t you worry, a male neuter is a very simple procedure. It’ll be over before you know it.” After the check-up, he picked up a clipboard. “Okay, Ms. Thompson, if you could just sign the surgical consent form, we’ll run a few pre-op tests and then we can take him in.” I took the pen he offered. As I did, my eyes met the cat’s pleading gaze from the table. Instead of feeling pity, a wicked little flame ignited inside me. Probably my inner troll taking over, but I leaned in close to the cat, who now looked more like a terrified little seal, and spoke in a low, deliberate voice, making sure every syllable landed perfectly in his furry little ears. “You know, Dr. Evans, when you do the surgery… could you make sure to get them… all of it? I just really, really don’t want him spraying. Ever.” The spectral comments went into a full-blown meltdown.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385040”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel