Category: English

It was my birthday. Spencer Reid had just posted on social media, teasing the “big surprise” he had planned for me that evening. A few hours later, I saw the photo. It was of him and his assistant, Hailey Miller, riding one of my horses together. His collar was open, exposing a patch of chest where an angry red cluster of fingerprints stood out against his skin. The caption read: [My first time, thanks to him.] The comments section was a chorus of suggestive jokes: [Jealous of anyone who gets to touch that chest.] [That’s a tricky position to master.] Spencer had specifically Liked that last one. My heart went utterly cold. I had always thought he just loved riding horses. I hadn’t realized he enjoyed riding that kind of horse. I personally bathed the horse, washing away every trace of the afternoon. Then, I signed the stables over to him, free and clear. “You can give the rest of the horses to whoever you want. Pick and choose.” Watching the look of pure, unadulterated delight on his face, I finally agreed to the family alliance marriage my father had been pushing. 1 I arrived at the Hudson Valley stables just after three. I parked my car and immediately saw a man and a woman on horseback in the distance. Spencer’s shirt buttons were all undone. Even the snap on his jeans was open. Even from this distance, I could see the fresh marks on his chest. Those raw, red trails that only a woman leaves in a moment of passion. Anyone who wasn’t blind knew exactly what had just happened. I snapped a picture and sent it to Spencer. He glanced at his phone and spun around. When he saw me, his brow furrowed in a sharp, irritated crease. As he swung down, Hailey, the assistant, lost her balance and tumbled straight into his embrace. She muttered something in his ear. Spencer’s tense expression softened, and he laughed, saying a few casual words to her. When he finally walked up to me, he still wore that faint, easy smile. I watched their casual, oblivious intimacy, the way they moved as if the rest of the world were just scenery. It was in that moment that I finally understood: everything had been my own self-deception. The surprise was never for me. I thought of how I had spent the morning preparing for my “surprise.” Pushing all my meetings, canceling all my engagements. I had even had the house professionally cleaned and bought the vintage sports car Spencer had been hinting at. Today wasn’t just my birthday; it was our eight-year anniversary. Spencer had forgotten all of it. Not only had he forgotten, but he had allowed another woman to ride my prize show horse—a horse I had personally nursed and cared for. Had he stopped belonging to me too? I clenched my fists, pressing down the violent surge of rage in my chest. Hailey stepped forward, planting herself between Spencer and me, and offered a practiced apology. “Ms. Bennett, the client we’re pursuing is a huge equestrian enthusiast. Spencer only brought me here to help me develop my skills for the company. You aren’t mad, are you?” The way she framed it—making it seem like all her actions were for the good of the company, and any anger from me would be an irrational outburst—almost made me laugh. It had been years since anyone dared to speak to me with such thinly veiled condescension. “Not at all. I’m not mad. Just know that if that deal falls through, you’ll be resigning for cause.” Hailey froze. “Ms. Bennett, securing the deal depends on the terms of the agreement, not on me personally.” I gave her a cold smile. “So, how exactly does riding the horse help the company?” “I—” My gaze iced over as I looked her up and down. “You seemed quite skilled just now. Had lessons before?” Hailey clearly didn’t know what game I was playing, but she had to answer. “A few times, when I was a kid.” She was skilled enough to know about horses. She would certainly recognize my Quarter Horse—the champion racer I’d acquired a few years ago for two million dollars. I was about to press her further when Spencer cut in. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me toward the parking lot. “Enough, Row. I brought her to give her an experience. Don’t make such a big deal out of this.” “Besides, you only own these horses; you hardly ever ride. We just took one out for the afternoon. You certainly don’t mind.” I stopped dead, pulling myself out of his grasp. “I do mind.” I looked him straight in the eye. “I bought that horse as a foal. I’ve cared for him meticulously. I wouldn’t even ride him myself. Hailey doesn’t have the right to touch him, much less ride him without my permission.” My voice was low and deadly. “You brought someone here to my property without asking. Did you show me any respect?” I gestured to the saddle. “What’s on the leather? Should I send a sample to a lab?” The air immediately thickened. Hailey quickly dropped her head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Bennett. It was my fault.” Then, she pivoted back to Spencer. “Spencer, please don’t fight because of me. It’s not worth it.” She knew I was angry due to jealousy, but she immediately spun it into a corporate drama, positioning me as the unreasonable boss fighting with the hardworking assistant. It was a clever maneuver. I saw the welling tears in her eyes and couldn’t help but smile. “Hailey, you love riding so much? I’ll buy you a horse. You can ride it whenever you want.” She looked up, eyes wide with disbelief. I kept my voice low and cutting. “But remember your place. You are an assistant. You are not to take anything that doesn’t belong to you.” Spencer finally realized I was truly enraged and rushed to appease me. “Rowan, I’m sorry. It’s our anniversary, and your birthday.” He leaned in, whispering in my ear. “I didn’t get you a gift this year, but I thought… I’d give you myself.” He subtly turned his neck, showing me the small silk bow tie he had tied around his collar. I’ve known Spencer for ten years, and we’ve been together for eight. Whenever he forgot my birthday, he always used this move to beg for forgiveness. Eight years, seven times I’d fallen for it. I thought this year would be different. This was the last year before our agreed-upon wedding. But I was wrong. The same pattern was the only consistent thing. From the very beginning, I was the one investing the most. I was silent throughout dinner. He tried to charm me, telling jokes and asking about my day. But after only two attempts, he grew impatient and withdrawn. It wasn’t until we got home that his easy demeanor returned. He kissed me lightly on the mouth. “I’m going to shower first. Wait for your gift.” I followed him into the bedroom and saw the spread of toys and props scattered across the bed. Clearly, for later. This was the other reason I had been so devoted to him. He always knew exactly how to manipulate my anger back into submission. My gaze darkened. I grabbed a pair of underwear and headed to the guest bathroom to wash up. The moment I stepped in, I knew something was wrong. In the trash can were a pair of discarded women’s lace lingerie and a thong. Used. The daring cut and floral lace were styles I had repeatedly refused to wear, despite his urging over the years. My heart plummeted. It hit the floor and shattered. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him. Spencer emerged wearing a sheer, silk shirt and picked up a pair of fuzzy cat ears, placing them on his head. “Rowan, help me with the tail, okay?” I held the faux tail, unmoving. “Why are there women’s underwear and lingerie in the guest bathroom trash?” Spencer froze, his eyes widening in obvious panic. “That… I don’t know. I’ll ask the cleaning service tomorrow if they accidentally left something behind.” “The cleaning crew is a team of professionals, Spencer. They don’t wear lace thongs. And you know what the lace looks like.” “I…” He quickly stood up, his panic palpable. He fumbled for an excuse but couldn’t find one. Then, his phone rang, sharp and intrusive. He picked it up, and after two sentences, his face went white. He tore off the cat ears, grabbed a jacket, and headed for the door. I grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?” “Hailey was in a car accident on the way home. She doesn’t have any family here. I have to go to the hospital.” I didn’t let go. “Call HR. Tell them to send a representative. You don’t need to go personally.” Spencer’s face contorted in anger. “Rowan, can you stop being so self-centered? She’s struggling in this city, she’s all alone, and I’m just trying to help her. Are you seriously going to be jealous over that? God, you’re so immature!” His fury made all my efforts feel pathetic. My last sliver of hope evaporated into disappointment. As he stormed out, I called my father. “Dad. I agree to the alliance.” After Spencer left, I looked around the house we had shared for five years. I bought it and gave it to him the year the company went public. I wanted it to be our home, not just a house. Ten years ago, I fell for Spencer at first sight. It took me two years of relentless pursuit to get him to agree to date me. After graduation, I cut ties with my family, refusing my father’s order to return and take over the empire. I left my childhood friends, my environment, and started over here with him. He just said Hailey was alone in this city. Was I not alone, too? What had I gotten in eight years? His lies, and a distance that grew wider every day. Because I had severed ties with my father, I couldn’t touch the family business. I had been forced to pivot to an industry I barely knew: entertainment and media. In the early days, we built the company side-by-side, scrambling daily just to keep the lights on. That was when our relationship was at its best. Then, the company went public. Everything changed. He met more people, his ambition swelled, and he started to resent my cautious strategy. He called me a drag on the company’s growth. Fine. I wouldn’t drag him down anymore. I spent the entire night packing my things. At dawn, I received a text from Spencer. [Hailey’s leg is hurt. I’ll be at the hospital taking care of her for the time being.] I replied with two words: Up to you. The next day, I went into the office and started an audit. I contacted our lawyers to initiate the equity division. When we founded the company, I had initially planned to give him all the shares. But he insisted he didn’t want to take advantage of me, so we signed an agreement stating that the equity could be split 50/50, with the final decision resting with me, no further consent needed. I signed my name right next to his signature from eight years ago. Time felt like an illusory arrow, flying across eight years to pierce my heart. I was busy until two in the afternoon before realizing I hadn’t eaten. Spencer walked in, followed by Hailey, who was leaning heavily on crutches. He set a takeout container on my desk and told me to eat. “Your secretary said you’ve been working non-stop and haven’t eaten. Why are you doing this again?” He looked at me with an air of exasperated disappointment. “Didn’t you promise me you’d take care of yourself?” I looked at Hailey. “I thought you were hospitalized?” Spencer gave a slight smirk. “She said the company is too busy, and she felt bad taking leave. She even closed a major deal this morning. Rowan, Hailey is genuinely talented. Can you please drop the attitude about yesterday?” I stood up, moving toward the food. “Fine.” Since I was leaving, there really was no point in arguing. As I walked past Hailey, she reached out and grabbed my sleeve. “Mr. Reid—I mean, Ms. Bennett. I know you’re still upset with me, but I promise I will remember my place from now on.” She lowered her voice. “Could you please rescind the disciplinary action? Everyone in the office is gossiping about me.” Spencer frowned. “What disciplinary action?” Hailey showed him her phone notification. “HR wrote me up for malicious absence yesterday.” Spencer instantly pulled out his own phone, ready to call the HR department. “She was absent. That’s a fact. Calling them now will only make the gossip worse.” My calm observation made Spencer’s face darken. “Why are you doing this?” “I’m following company policy. She was absent.” Spencer suddenly slammed his hand on the desk, rising to his full height. “Don’t use policy to control me! You’re the CEO! You make the rules! You know I’m the one who took her out. What you’re doing now is making me look like an idiot!” I took a slow bite of my food. “Collateral damage. My apologies.” “You!” Hailey looked between us, her expression shifting from panic to distress. She rushed to apologize. “I’m sorry, I’ll take the punishment, Ms. Bennett. Please don’t be angry at Spencer because of me… Ah!” Her body twisted, and she fell directly onto the glass coffee table. The food and soup scattered, soaking her clothes. “Ms. Bennett, why did you push me?” Spencer shoved me away, his face etched with horror and rage. He immediately crouched down beside Hailey. “Are you okay? Where does it hurt?” He looked up at me, his face twisted with accusation. “Rowan Bennett, take your anger out on me! Why involve an innocent third party?” I was caught completely off guard by his push and fell backward onto the shattered pieces of the ceramic cup. “I didn’t push her.” Spencer glared at me, his eyes shining with fury. “Did she just fall on her own, then?” I managed to sit up, carefully moving away from the broken glass. Blood welled up from my palm and dripped onto the white carpet, spreading quickly. Spencer registered the blood for a split second, but Hailey’s pained cry cut him off. “Spencer, my leg hurts so much.” He immediately panicked, pulling out his phone to dial 911. “I’m taking you to the ER right now.” He shot me one final, venomous look. “Rowan Bennett, I’ll deal with you when I get back.” When the paramedics and nurses came to lift Hailey onto the gurney, Spencer didn’t spare a single minute to ask them to look at my hand. “Spencer, Ms. Bennett is hurt, too…” Hailey murmured as they wheeled her away. Spencer scoffed. “It’s just a scratch. She won’t die. She brought it on herself. If she hadn’t pushed you, none of this would have happened.” I closed my eyes silently. When I opened them again, every trace of doubt was gone. Leaving was the only choice left. For the next week, Spencer didn’t come home, nor did he check in. The only message I received was the text he sent the day Hailey was hospitalized. [Because of your shove, her fractured leg is now fully broken. Rowan, I never knew you were such a cold-blooded person. You’ve been so cold that I’m starting to doubt if our relationship was the right choice.] I was already set on leaving, but the words still caused a sharp, painful ache in my chest. He had condemned me, based only on Hailey’s word. He didn’t even bother to check the security footage. I typed out my response, word by word: [If that’s the case, let’s break up.] But when I hit send, I received a red exclamation mark. He had blocked me. I tossed my phone aside and officially began the process of transferring my equity. My half of the company was worth at least a hundred million dollars now, and I wasn’t leaving it behind. I transferred all my shares to a trusted friend. Before signing, the friend asked me repeatedly, “Are you sure you want to give us these shares? This is the final step; you and Spencer will be done for good.” “You loved him for so many years. You were planning the wedding. Can you really let go?” I signed my name with a steady hand. “We’re done.” It wasn’t just that I wanted to end it. Spencer no longer wanted me. Over the next few days, I saw Hailey’s posts constantly on social media. [His homemade chicken soup is delicious, but he’s working too hard. I hope to be the one cooking for him soon.] [Caring for a patient is hard. I promise I won’t let myself get hurt again, because I hate seeing him suffer.] [He looks so cute when he sleeps.] The last post, from the night before, finally included a blurry photo. It was Spencer asleep next to her in the hospital bed. The picture was slightly obscured, but I recognized him instantly. More importantly, I recognized the necklace lying on the bedside table. I had made it for him myself on our one-year anniversary. He had never taken it off. Until now. He had taken it off for another woman. I thought for a moment, then posted my own update. [Who knew leaving the city I’ve called home for ten years could be this simple.] After hitting Post, I turned and walked into the airport.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388653”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Preparing for assisted suicide abroad, the journalist suddenly asked me, “Ms. Thorne, what is the single greatest regret of your life?” I thought for a long time before slowly beginning to speak: “When my parents went to the group home to adopt a child, I chose a quiet boy who rarely spoke, and then I insisted on marrying him, against everyone’s advice.” My answer piqued the reporter’s curiosity, and she pressed on: “Did you marry him in the end?” I touched the scar on my wrist, a wound that had long since healed over. This was a rare moment of lucidity for me. “I did. But then I divorced him. He ended up with my lifelong best friend. I heard they recently had their second child. Good for them.” That same afternoon, after the interview aired, Derek Hayes rushed from the States and stopped the procedure. He looked at me, his eyes wide with unconcealed relief and surprise. “Jenna, thank God you’re alive! Your mother has been asking about you constantly, she misses you. We all miss you.” I pulled my hand out of his grip and said softly, “Sir, do we know each other?” 1 Derek looked like he’d been hit with a two-by-four, frozen solid for a good two seconds. “Jenna, even if you hate me, you don’t have to pretend not to know me, do you?” I looked at his face, feeling a vague sense of familiarity. The foreign nurse beside me leaned in and whispered a reminder. “Ms. Thorne, do you remember? You showed us photos—this is your ex-husband.” Ex-husband? A flicker of recognition. I fumbled in the pocket of my hospital gown for a yellowed little notebook. I carefully flipped through a few pages, my finger stopping at a certain line, and finally matched the face to the name. “Oh, it’s you. Well, you came at the right time. You can arrange for my body. When I die, please make sure I’m buried next to my father.” Derek snatched the notebook from my hand and slammed it to the floor. “Jenna, have you lost your mind! How much longer are you going to keep this act up! Five years ago you faked your death and left, letting everyone live in agony and guilt—wasn’t that enough?” I lowered my head, saying nothing. The tumor in my brain was pressing on my nerves; I had forgotten too many things, and now I didn’t even have the energy to argue. Because of Derek’s arrival, I didn’t die that day. Perhaps it was the desire to die closer to my dad, but I agreed to go back with him. On the flight home, Derek kept talking. “Everyone went crazy looking for you after you disappeared.” “When they hauled the car out of the ocean, the driver’s seat was empty. Everyone thought you were dead.” “Your mother cried for a solid month, almost losing her eyesight. She’s the one who asked me to bring you back. You two need to talk; how can a mother and daughter have such deep-seated resentment?” The chattering gave me a headache, and I cut him off. “Derek, my notes say that the reason our marriage failed was that you cheated on me with my best friend. Is that true?” Screech! The sound of tires grating on the tarmac was jarring. The car swerved violently. Derek pressed his lips together, silent. The topic was dropped, never to be resumed. 2 The car pulled into the driveway, where Willow Sterling was helping my mother, Eleanor, stand at the front door. When she saw me get out, Eleanor let out a cold scoff and turned her head away. My heart ached, but I didn’t speak. Though the memories in my brain were disjointed, my body remembered. I instinctively walked across the living room and pushed open the door to my old room. My old writing desk, the baby grand piano—all gone. In their place was a sprawl of Legos and action figures covering the floor. Derek stepped in front of me, trying to block the view inside the room. “Jenna, I’ll have this room cleared out for you right away.” Before he could finish, a five-year-old boy suddenly darted out of the corner. He spread his arms wide, blocking the doorway, and glared at me fiercely. “This is my toy room! Don’t touch anything! Get out, you bad lady!” The boy hurled the metal toy car in his hand directly at me. The hard projectile hit my kneecap, and a sharp, piercing pain shot through me. I gasped, my body swaying, almost stumbling backward. “Leo!” Willow rushed over, covering the boy’s mouth, her face a mask of panic. I didn’t get angry. I just felt the pain in my knee travel up my nerves and settle in my heart. The air felt too thick here; I could barely breathe. I turned and dragged my aching leg outside. Derek followed me. He forcefully put me into the car and drove me to a high-end hotel. The moment the room lights came on, the memories I had suppressed flooded back to me instantly. I was seven years old when my parents took me to the group home, saying they wanted to adopt an older brother for me. Among the children desperately trying to impress, only Derek huddled quietly in a corner. My parents didn’t like him; they thought he was too solitary, too hard to bond with. But when a few older kids pushed me to the ground, fighting over my candy, Derek had stepped in front of me. He was battered and bruised, his nose bleeding, but he wouldn’t move. That day, I cried and threw a tantrum in my parents’ arms, pointing at his bloodied face. “I want him! I want that brother!” And so, Derek came home with us. For over a decade, we went to school together, we grew up together. He sheltered me, protecting me from every slight and sorrow. Later, we got married. But on our first wedding anniversary, I had booked a restaurant and couldn’t reach him anywhere. Fearing something had happened, I tracked his phone. It led me to a high-end hotel, just like this one. Willow, wearing a silk slip, opened the door. Derek lay passed out on the bed inside. One was the man I had loved for over a decade, the other my confidante for just as long. In that instant, my world collapsed. 3 I didn’t even have the courage to rush in and confront them. I ran like a coward. Despair, humiliation, and nausea flooded my mind. I stood on the cross-town bridge, staring down at the pitch-black, churning river, and I jumped. The icy water rushed into my nasal cavity, and I was engulfed in a suffocating darkness. My dad, Robert, worried about me, had followed right behind. When he saw me jump, he didn’t hesitate; he jumped in after me. He used all his strength to push me back toward the bank, but he struggled in the swift current and eventually sank. When my dad’s body was recovered, my mother, Eleanor, cursed me hysterically, hitting and kicking me. “What was so terrible that you had to do that? I told you, men are like this! If you can live with it, stay! If not, divorce him! Why did you have to be so dramatic!” For a long time after that, whenever my mother saw me, she would say, “Why wasn’t it you who died?” Yes, I wanted to know too. Why could she forgive Derek, forgive Willow for destroying my family, but not forgive me? As the memories returned, the searing pain made my body convulse. I clutched my chest, squatting on the floor, gasping for air. “Jenna, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?” Derek looked at me, huddled on the floor, his voice tight with alarm. A knock sounded on the door, and he stood up to open it. The door opened, and Willow’s eyes quickly scanned Derek, taking him in. When she saw that he was fully dressed, her tense shoulders noticeably relaxed. She squeezed into the room, her gaze falling on me, assuming the stance of the woman of the house. “Jenna, since you’re back, it’s better you come home. I’ve had the room cleared out. Leo is young and doesn’t know any better. You’re the adult, don’t hold it against him.” Five years later, I was this close to my former best friend again. The question I couldn’t ask then finally found its voice. “Willow, why did you betray me?” This question was not just about Derek’s infidelity but Willow’s calculated move. They both knew what they meant to me. 4 Willow’s forced smile instantly crumbled. With her so-called dignity stripped away, she dropped the act. “Yes, it was all my fault. But Jenna, is a matter of the heart something I can control?” “I was just trying to secure my own happiness. Was that so wrong?” What a self-righteous justification. That to secure happiness, she could shamelessly climb into her best friend’s husband’s bed. “Stop it!” Derek suddenly roared, cutting off her tearful confession. “The past is the past! Why bring it up now!” “Jenna is back, and I will do everything I can to make it up to her. I will return the Thorne family company and all the assets to her.” At this, Willow’s sobs instantly ceased. “Derek, you’re going to give everything to her, aren’t you? What about me and Leo?” Derek’s silence ignited Willow’s fury. She looked at the man before her with crushing disappointment and slowly retreated toward the door. “Fine! If you’re so determined to make amends, then let’s get a divorce!” With that, she turned and stormed out of the room. Derek stood rooted, his eyes darting between the direction Willow had disappeared in and me. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. In the end, he made his choice. “Jenna, get some rest here. I’ll come back for you tomorrow.” After this brief instruction, he turned and chased after her. Looking at the empty doorway, I started laughing. Jenna Thorne, you came back just to humiliate yourself again. I bent over, coughing violently for a while, and then looked at the faint blood on my palm. I suddenly felt nostalgic for my childhood, safe in my parents’ arms. One last look before I die. 5 Under the cover of darkness, I quietly crept back to the house. The front door was slightly ajar, and I could hear a fierce argument inside. Peeking through the gap, I saw my mother pointing a finger at Derek, scolding him. “Derek, what are you saying? You want to divorce Willow and remarry Jenna? Have you lost your mind! Marriage isn’t a game! Who do you truly love in your heart, do you even know?” Derek’s head was bowed, his hands buried in his hair in obvious distress. “Mom, that whole thing was an accident. I was drunk that night, completely blacked out, I don’t remember a thing! Jenna has always been the one in my heart! Now I just want to make amends. I want to give back what I owe her.” Eleanor slapped the table, her voice cold as ice. “What about Willow? What about Leo? And the second baby she’s pregnant with! If Jenna hadn’t come back, the three of you would have welcomed your second child soon.” “You tell me you can’t let her go, but can you let go of your current wife, let go of your two children?” Derek opened his mouth but couldn’t make a sound. Eleanor looked at his silence, her voice taking on a hateful edge. “If I had known her coming back would cause such a mess, I never should have let you go get her! The fact that she could fake her own death five years ago means there’s nothing she won’t do!” “She might even lie and say she has cancer, just to break you two up!” Inside the room, Derek fell silent. After a long pause, he seemed to yield. “Give me some time to think, but I won’t back down on one thing: as long as I’m here, no one is allowed to hurt her. I will return the Thorne family company and all the assets to her intact!” I didn’t want to hear the rest and turned to leave, but I bumped into Leo. He looked at me with open hostility. “You’re the bad lady trying to take Daddy away! Daddy said he’s going to give you the house and the money! Why? Those things are mine!” Leo was holding a pair of small scissors and suddenly lunged at me. The metal points plunged into my thigh. A searing pain shot through me, and I instinctively reached out and pushed him away. Leo fell back, hitting the ground, and began to wail, clutching his hand where the skin was broken. “Daddy, Mommy, Grandma, the bad lady hit me!” Willow materialized out of nowhere, shoving me hard. She snatched up Leo and looked at me, her guard up. “Jenna, whatever you have against me, take it out on me! Don’t take it out on my son!” I clutched my bleeding thigh, trying to walk away, but Willow held onto me relentlessly. Her grip was strong, making my arm scream in pain. I yanked hard, but unexpectedly, she staggered and fell heavily to the ground. Blood began to flow down her thigh, shocking and unmistakable. 6 My mother and Derek rushed out one after the other. Seeing Willow on the ground, Eleanor instinctively slapped me across the face. “Jenna! I knew you coming back meant trouble. That assisted suicide, the sickness—it’s all a fabricated lie! You just can’t stand to see us happy, can you? Get out! Never show your face here again!” Seeing Derek, Willow’s face crumpled into a mask of tears. “Derek, the baby, our baby!” Derek frantically picked up Willow and ran out. My mother followed with Leo. The yard was suddenly empty, save for me. I looked down at my still-bleeding thigh and strangely felt no pain at all, light and disembodied. I hailed a cab and went to the cemetery. Leaning against my father’s tombstone, I suddenly felt overwhelmingly sleepy. In my haze, I thought I saw my dad reaching out to me, smiling. “Jenna, Dad’s here to take you home! Where’s your mom? Did you make her angry again?” I pulled out my phone and dialed my mother’s number. The moment she answered, I started to cry. “Mom, I’m dying. Please, help me…” My mother’s voice was venomous, spilling out words without thought. “Jenna, Willow miscarried! And you have the nerve to call? I’m telling you, I won’t believe you this time! If you’re going to die, do it far away from here!” The phone went dead, and my hand slid away. The next morning, Derek was leaving the hospital building to smoke a cigarette when he saw a hearse from the funeral home pulling away. A sudden gust of wind lifted a corner of the white sheet. Derek saw my deathly pale half-face, and my eyes, which were still wide open.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388669”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the day of the SATs, I suddenly ran away from home and went downtown to watch a concert. My parents were frantic, making a scene at school, begging the principal to find me. My homeroom teacher pulled out handfuls of hair because I was the only kid in the whole school with a shot at getting into an Ivy League. And the day before I skipped the exam, I had been studying seriously until late at night. My mom fainted from anger, and my dad called, furious and disappointed, “Maliciously skipping the exam means a three-year ban. Are you trying to ruin your life?” At the concert venue, I shouted back over the music. “Dad, if I don’t run, I’ll die!” …… When the bell for the SAT exam rang, I had just squeezed into the concert venue with the crowd. My mom called, “Honey, the teacher said you didn’t go to the exam. What’s going on!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, “It’s too late, Mom, the concert is starting. I’ll call you back after it’s over!” There was an uproar around me. “What? This kid is taking the SATs today?” “Shouldn’t SAT candidates be in the exam hall?” “She skipped the exam to come to a concert!” “She missed the SATs for a concert!” The audience passed it on one by one, and soon the whole venue knew there was an SAT candidate who skipped the exam to come to the concert. The latest iPhones were raised one by one, pointing at me. I showed my white teeth, wearing a tacky, old school uniform, and flashed a peace sign at the camera. “She’s crazy!” “Does anyone recognize this uniform? Call their principal quickly!” Soon, my old Nokia phone kept ringing. My parents, my homeroom teacher, the principal, and my deskmate. On the screen, my mom was crying and shouting, “Honey was studying until midnight yesterday, how can she just not take the exam!” My dad looked much older, gesturing wildly, “Our Honey has always been obedient and filial. She wouldn’t do such a thing! Someone must have incited her!” I looked at my parents with heartache, “Mom, Dad, the concert is starting, don’t worry! Wait until I finish watching the concert!” My homeroom teacher, Mr. Thompson, scratched his head anxiously, “Chloe Evans, you are the only one in our class with hope for Harvard or Yale. How can you just not take the exam!” I replied loudly, “Mr. Thompson, wait until I finish watching the concert!” The principal took the phone, “Student Chloe Evans, as long as you can come back for the exam, name your conditions. Whether you want money, concert tickets, or autographs, I’ll find a way to get them for you!” I replied loudly, “Principal, wait until I finish watching the concert!” When my deskmate, Emily, took the phone with red eyes, I frowned. “Emily, shouldn’t you be taking the exam in the hall?” Emily choked, “Chloe, come back quickly, we are all worried about you! A three-year ban is a big deal. I don’t want you to go astray!” I smiled and replied, “Emily, wait until I finish watching the concert!” People around pointed at me and discussed fiercely. “So unfilial! Her parents are crying like this, and she still has the nerve to spend their money on a concert!” “Is it possible this child was driven crazy by her parents’ pressure and deliberately rebelled by not taking the SATs?” “Or maybe she’s an anti-fan of our Tom. She’s obviously here to smear Tom’s name on purpose!” I shook my head. None of that was true, but I couldn’t say anything until the concert was over. The heat continued to ferment. The star holding the concert, Tom Sheng, walked onto the stage with a pale face, anxiously looking for me in the audience. I was wearing old clothes, face dirty, holding no support items, just bobbing my head and dancing to the rhythm. The star was terrified and quickly shouted across the air, “Little sister, is it your SATs today? Can you go back and take the exam?” After all, if news got out that he condoned fans skipping exams to watch his concert, his career would be over. He looked like he was about to cry and almost knelt down to me, “Little sister, we don’t welcome SAT candidates here! I don’t care where you got the ticket, we will refund you in full and charter a car to send you back for the exam!” Dozens of big screens were full of close-ups of me. I jumped up and down excitedly, raising my hand to signal him, “Sing! Whatever it is, wait until the concert is over!” Chapter 2 The star was angry and ordered several security guards to come and kick me out. “Who sent you? Why do you want to harm me on purpose! Someone, kick her out! My concert does not welcome candidates with bad morals who skip exams!” I explained to the security guards, “Let me watch the concert first. Everything will end after I finish watching!” But they didn’t listen. They grabbed my arms left and right and were about to throw me out. Seeing that I was about to be thrown out the door, I was anxious. If I couldn’t watch the concert, all my efforts would be in vain! I suddenly pulled the hairpin off my head, “Who dares to touch me! I’ll kill myself!” The surroundings became quiet. No one wanted to be responsible for a human life, especially an SAT candidate’s life. The security guards held their hands up in front of their faces, “Okay, okay, we won’t touch you. You go out yourself.” I shook my head with my bag on my back and rushed desperately towards the stage, “I’m not leaving! If I don’t watch the concert today, I’ll die!” The star sighed, “It seems this little friend is my loyal fan. I didn’t expect to bring so much strength to a child. She’ll die if she doesn’t listen to me sing!” “How about this, you go back and take the exam first. When you finish the SATs, I’ll personally go to your house and sing for you, okay?” “Come, let me sign your school uniform first. Let my signature accompany you to the exam! What do you usually like to call me? Tom Sheng? Or Tommy?” I looked at him confusedly, “What’s your name? I don’t know you!” Tom Sheng was angry, “You are here to crash the party on purpose! You know my performance today is for charity, just to cheer for the SAT candidates. If you mess this up, my reputation will be ruined!” I shook my head, “No, you will understand when the truth comes out! But you can’t drive me back now, I will die!” Tom Sheng ignored me and asked the security guards to watch me so I wouldn’t cause trouble, because the concert officially began. The big screen began to scroll videos of some outstanding students’ monologues. Tom Sheng stood seriously in front of the stage, “Let’s use our strength to cheer for the candidate brothers and sisters! They are the flowers of the motherland, our hope for the future!” Amidst the cheers of the whole audience, I saw videos of several top students in our city, telling their visions to the camera. The next video was me. In the lens, my eyes were red and wiping tears. “I really feel sorry for my mom and dad. They work from dawn to dusk to earn money, but insist on letting me study. I must get into an Ivy League to repay them so they don’t have to work so hard…” The audience hissed. “Isn’t this the girl just now? She kept saying she wanted to repay her parents, then turned around and bought scalped tickets to see the concert, tsk tsk…” Tom Sheng also looked at me in surprise, “You are the top student in the city’s mock exam? Obviously, you have a great hope of getting into Harvard or Yale. Why didn’t you go to take the SATs?” I shook my head, staring closely at the time on my phone screen. “It’s not time yet! I can’t say! Otherwise, everything will be useless! I will die!” I stared at Tom Sheng, “This concert of yours is a charity concert. All local media in the state will forward it, right?” Tom Sheng nodded blankly. I continued to ask, “You have over 100 million followers on all platforms and are the most popular singer in the entertainment industry now. Can you guarantee that the live broadcast of this concert will be seen by many, many people?” Tom Sheng blushed, “I dare not guarantee number one in popularity, but my fans are very powerful. This concert will definitely be watched by many people, at least eight million.” Hearing this number, I touched my chest. My heart, which had been beating fiercely, finally settled down a little. As long as I wait until the exam officially begins, everything will come to light. When the exam officially began, the bell rang inside the venue, and the whole audience thundered with applause. The cameramen pointed their lenses at the audience seats, randomly picking fans to offer blessings to the candidates. I was shaking all over with nervousness, suddenly pounced on a camera and hugged it tightly, my voice trembling, “I want to speak! Film me! All cameras film me!” Fans stood up and cursed me, throwing light sticks at me. I looked at the camera, word by word, “I want to report!” The whole venue fell silent. Tom Sheng frowned and invited me to the stage, “Student Chloe, you said you want to report, is it about the SATs?” I nodded solemnly, holding the microphone. “I want to report that in Exam Room 318 of Sunnydale High School, someone is—” Chapter 3 A harsh electric noise rang out, and my voice was drowned in the huge noise. At the entrance of the venue, Mr. Thompson slowly walked into the venue supporting my elderly parents. The principal held the wire he had unplugged, trying to wave at me from under the stage. “Chloe Evans, if you come back with us now, you can still catch the next subject! Don’t ruin your life chasing stars!” Tom Sheng interrupted the principal with a righteous face, “This student Chloe wants to report. No matter what happens, reporting any improper behavior in the SATs is what every citizen should do. Please don’t interrupt her!” But I stood on the stage holding the microphone, trembling all over. Mr. Thompson supported my parents. My parents leaned on Mr. Thompson’s shoulder with trust, but Mr. Thompson stared at me fixedly. “Chloe Evans, weigh the impact of what you are going to say on yourself before speaking!” Mr. Thompson actually threatened me with my parents! I laughed angrily, “I don’t believe you can do anything to my parents in full view of everyone!” Before I finished speaking, dozens of high school students in uniforms poured into the venue mightily. My deskmate Emily threw a schoolbag up, heartbroken, “Chloe, yesterday you told me your dream was to see Tommy’s concert. I didn’t expect you to be so confused as to skip the SATs to see it!” “Don’t be silly! The whole class is worried about you! Come back with us quickly!” The whole class spoke mightily, “Student Chloe Evans, go back with us! We are willing to repeat the year with you!” I was stunned. “How come… none of you entered the exam hall? Impossible, impossible! You all abandoned the exam?” Emily’s eyes were red, reaching out to me, “We voluntarily gave up the exam for you! You are the pride of our class. How can we take the exam with peace of mind without you?” I only felt creepy and collapsed on the ground. At the same time, Tom Sheng opened the schoolbag. Inside, the exercise book bore my name, but besides that, Tom Sheng found a whole bag of things related to him. Every album since his debut, every magazine cover, all endorsed items, all OST merchandise, even photos taken at the airport and hotel entrances. The audience exclaimed, “So she’s not an anti-fan, she’s a sasaeng fan (obsessive fan)!” “To fight for a chance to be on stage with her idol, she actually lied about reporting SAT cheating!” My microphone was muted. No matter how I explained, no one heard. Tom Sheng gritted his teeth, “I hate sasaeng fans like you the most. Now you even use the name of the SATs to trick me into supporting you to speak out! Get out! Get out of my concert!” Mr. Thompson pointed at the students behind him and knelt down helplessly to me, “Chloe, you have always been the most sensible student. Why did you drop the ball at the critical moment? Wake up quickly! Now it’s not just you skipping the exam alone, it’s our whole class risking for you!” “Repeating a year is a small matter, the teacher is willing to waste time with you, but maliciously skipping the exam, do you want to take your whole class to be banned from the exam for three years?” It was Mr. Thompson kneeling, but a deep sense of powerlessness rose in my heart. Looking at the people accusing me desperately under the stage, looking at the indifferent faces behind the cameras, I wanted to continue speaking, but the microphone couldn’t transmit a sound. Security had already rushed onto the stage to pull me away. I closed my eyes. Could I still not escape the ending of death? Wait, there is still hope. I remember there was a photo in that schoolbag, of Tom Sheng meeting a female boss privately. Chapter 4 The moment the security rushed up, I turned and pounced on Tom Sheng. He didn’t expect it and fell backward to the ground. The microphone was broken, emitting harsh electric noise, and was immediately muted. Tom Sheng tried to get up in embarrassment, and a ring fell out of his pocket. I grabbed the ring quickly, found the photo and threw it to him. “Tom Sheng, I have your secret. If you don’t help me, I will expose the fact that you secretly married the female boss.” Tom Sheng trembled with anger, “You really are my sasaeng fan! You threaten me! Say, how much money do you want to let me go?” My lips were pale, “I don’t want money, I just want a live broadcast! A live broadcast with at least eight million viewers!” When the security grabbed my arm, Tom Sheng gritted his teeth, pulled me off the stage, and personally sent me to the nanny van. Fans were furious, “Tommy, what’s wrong with you! Why help a sasaeng fan escape!” “For a sasaeng fan, do you ignore the fans in the entire stadium?” “Refund! Unfollow! Refund! Unfollow!” Tom Sheng punched the back of the front seat, smashing a hole in the seat. “Are you satisfied making such a scene?” I shook my head, “Not satisfied yet. Give me your phone. I want to start a live broadcast with your account!” “Otherwise, I’ll open the door and shout that you are married and kept by a rich woman!” Tom Sheng cried and handed the phone to me, “What good does ruining me do to you? Why are you doing all this?” I sighed, “Anyway, that schoolbag is not mine, and I am not your sasaeng fan. You will understand everything when the dust settles.” I looked at the constantly rising number of people in the live broadcast room, my eyes dark, “Sorry, I just want to live.” Ten million people poured into the live broadcast room at once, but this was not enough. These were just ordinary fans. I initiated connections with official media accounts across the state. Not a single media outlet dared to accept my connection. Finally, the director of the State Education Bureau took the initiative to initiate a connection. “Student Chloe, if you have any difficulties, you can tell me. I promise to handle it impartially!” My tears flowed down. Finally, finally. I opened my mouth, “Uncle Director, I want to report Sunnydale High School for mutual protection among officials. The whole school is condoning…” Bang. The vehicle was hit violently, rushed straight out of the guardrail, and hit the bridge pillar. After a spin, the equipment in the car was disconnected, the live broadcast image was lost, and the phone was stuck in the gap under the seat. “Damn, it’s sasaeng fans intercepting the car!” Tom Sheng jumped out of the car window in one stride, looked back at me, but still gritted his teeth and dragged me out of the car. A man and a woman in the car behind, wearing hats and black masks, walked straight towards me. I would recognize their faces even if they turned into ashes. It was the class monitor and my deskmate! Emily held my hand and cried bitterly, “Chloe, as your friend for many years, I really can’t bear to see you go astray! Don’t ignore your life just to chase stars! Do you know the consequences of holding a star hostage?” “No matter what, come back to town with us first. Everything is easy to talk about back in town. We will follow whatever you want!” I desperately broke free from Emily’s hand, “I won’t go back to town with you! I will die if I go back to town!” I looked at Tom Sheng beggingly, “I will die if I go back to town! Continue driving! Take me to the state capital!” While Tom Sheng hesitated, the class monitor, Jacob Miller, stepped forward with a cold face. His dark eyes wanted to see through me through my eyes, “Didn’t you chase me for many years? As long as you go back with us to take the exam, I will agree to you.” The surrounding atmosphere froze. Suddenly, the director’s voice came from under the seat, “Little Student Chloe, are you still there? Speak boldly if you have something to report!” Tom Sheng seemed to have made up his mind, “The fairness of the SATs is more important. No matter what, I’ll take you to the State Education Bureau first. Get in the car.” I clenched my fists. “No need, you go.” Tom Sheng widened his eyes in disbelief and cursed, “Chloe Evans, are you sick in the head? You want to kill me just to flirt with a man!” “Don’t expect me to help you again! No matter what you say, I won’t believe you anymore!” After that, Tom Sheng picked up the phone and left me without looking back. Emily laughed, “Chloe Evans, what’s the use of making such a scene? Still completely controlled!” Jacob Miller’s eyes were cold. His fingers touched my sweat-covered skin, making me shrink back subconsciously. “What, don’t want to go back with me? Then I can’t keep those things secret anymore.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388686”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

23:59. I suppressed the anger of being woken up by my phone and pushed open the gold-plated door of the private room. “Sorry to disturb you, everyone. I’m here to pick up my significant other.” The next second, the countdown to the New Year in the room stopped abruptly. Dozens of eyes from the room full of social elites were all fixed on me. And the man sitting in the center, in a sharp suit and with cold features, was slowly rubbing his wine glass. “…Chloe Miller?” Someone broke the dead silence first. “Today is the New Year’s Eve gathering for Ivy League alumni, not a shelter for community college dropouts.” Laughter exploded. “Isn’t this the heroine of the ‘Only-Chloe-ism’ incident back then? Just to make her smile, the top student Ethan changed all ‘materialism’ to ‘Chloe-ism’ on his philosophy paper and almost gave the professor a heart attack.” “I heard you schemed your way into your stepbrother’s bed and forced him to marry you. Otherwise, why would he marry a failure like you? Now his sister-in-law is a Cambridge PhD, that’s what you call a perfect match. How dare you show up?” The gazes from the table pierced me like needles. They would never know. Ethan used to be the last in the school. He fought his way to the top just for me. But the past is no longer important. I met everyone’s gaze, without the wretchedness they expected, and said calmly with a slight smile: “I’m not here to spend New Year’s Eve with you elites. I’m here to pick up my husband.” Ethan finally looked up, his eyes dark: “Chloe, we divorced three years ago.” I curled my lips slightly, putting on a standard business smile. “I know.” “So, I didn’t say I came to pick you up, Mr. Sterling.” 1 “How shameless. Still trying to take advantage of Ethan even after the divorce.” A few suppressed snickers rang out in the private room. Jason lit a cigarette and looked at me lazily. “First time I’ve seen someone rush to be a mistress.” Jason was the best friend of Ethan and me in high school. And the person who treated me second best in this world. But when I was divorcing Ethan, he stood by Ethan without hesitation. Because the girl he liked was the third party in our marriage. And he had been helping Ethan hide their relationship. Only me, kept in the dark like a fool from beginning to end. “Jason, stop it.” Ethan pursed his lips and scolded coldly. Jason was unconvinced, extinguished his cigarette, and looked impatient. “What’s wrong with saying a few words? An idiot like Chloe can’t compare to an intellectual like Sophia at all.” “Only you would fall for a dummy like her and be dragged down for years for nothing.” Ethan looked at me and said deeply, “Chloe isn’t stupid.” Chloe isn’t stupid. Coming from the mouth of a genius like Ethan. It actually sounds a bit comical. But 16-year-old Chloe Miller believed it. The year I graduated from middle school, my mom and Ethan’s dad formed a new family. Ethan and I were the same age and went to the same ordinary high school. We were in the same class. He was last, and my grades were in the middle. Ethan hated me, so he never talked to me. I often saw Ethan fighting and getting punished. Then my mom would come to school to be scolded, bowing and scraping while being insulted. One night I went out for water and saw my mom sitting on the sofa wiping tears in the middle of the night. “Chloe, how can Ethan accept me?” I didn’t know. I only knew that after that day. The originally plain relationship between Ethan and me became tense. I put wasabi in his drink, poured dirty water into his backpack, and put laxatives in his lunch box. Ethan threatened, “What other tricks do you have? Chloe Miller, I’m telling you, if you don’t kill me, I’ll kill your mom!” We confronted each other like this for half a year. I thought I would hate Ethan for the rest of my life. But in the end, he became the only person in this world who still loved me. 2 The conflict between Ethan and me ended after an incident of domestic violence. Ethan’s dad beat my mom until she was hospitalized. When my mom was put on the ambulance, his dad was still shouting insults. “I chased you for a year or two, but besides being pretty, you’re useless, good for nothing.” My mom was nearly forty. She was spoiled by my dad in the first half of her life, so naturally she couldn’t do anything. When he heard this back then, Ethan’s indifferent expression collapsed instantly. He looked at me in shock, muttering. “It wasn’t your mom who seduced my dad…” Ethan hated my mom. He always thought my mom actively intervened in his parents’ marriage, causing his mom to leave. It didn’t matter anymore, because after that day. I didn’t have a mom anymore either. When I went to the hospital to see her holding her favorite white frangipani, I found out she ran away. She didn’t take anything. She didn’t take me either. Chloe Miller had no home. I didn’t know where to go. While wandering on the street in the middle of the night, Ethan found me. His eyes were red, and he looked angry. I was afraid he would hit me, so I shrank into a ball. In my fear, his warm embrace wrapped around me. For the first time, I heard him speak so gently. “Chloe, come home with me.” “From now on, I’ll be your whole world.” I took the hand he extended and held it tight. So, starting from the age of sixteen. In Chloe Miller’s world, there was only Ethan. 3 After my mom left, Ethan’s dad’s temper became even more violent. Afraid I would get hurt, Ethan moved out with me. Our life continued, just different from before. I was no longer mischievous, and Ethan’s brows softened. Ethan spent more and more time reading and studying. I couldn’t help but ask him. “You used to dislike reading and attending class.” He looked at me seriously, finally pinched my cheek helplessly, and said gently, “Chloe, I want to give you a better life.” I looked at the tips of his red ears and nodded heavily. Chloe Miller would never drag Ethan down either. So I studied even harder. But when Ethan went from last in the grade to first. I still hovered in the middle. Ethan tutored me at home until midnight. I shook my head looking at the calculus problems. He said: “Chloe, you’re so dumb.” “But, I just like you being dumb, it’s terribly cute.” Sleepiness hit, and the pen in my hand slipped. I was still muttering. “Ethan, can you walk slower? I can’t catch up with you.” Ethan said. I never have to chase him. He will wait for me forever. He didn’t do it. Later, he hated my dumb look the most. It annoyed him. 4 “Not dumb? You tried so hard to tutor her back then, but in the end she only got into a lousy state college, right?” Jason played with his lighter, continuing the conversation. I looked around and didn’t see my husband, Luke Walker. Luke was indeed alumni with Ethan, but in a different college. They shouldn’t be gathering together either. I thought he might have sent me the wrong address. I didn’t bother to dwell on the past anymore. “Excuse me.” I dropped this sentence and left. I sent a message to Luke, but he didn’t reply, and his phone was unanswered. I planned to go home first. Before I opened the car door, a hand grabbed my wrist first. “Sister, forgive me, okay?” Ethan lowered his eyes, an emotion I couldn’t understand in them. Sister, this title. Used to make me blush, and once became the perfect title to flirt with a straitlaced person like Ethan. But later, this “brother and sister” thing also doomed me. “Ethan, are you addicted to acting?” I shook off his hand and said expressionlessly, “I don’t have a brother.” When the atmosphere was stagnant, a scoff broke the embarrassment. “Chloe Miller, didn’t expect to see you here.” Sophia walked over in high heels, as arrogant and domineering as ever. In the past, I would have been scared by her aura. I would also envy, admire, and involuntarily feel a bit inferior. But now, after that unbearable past had been tormented in my heart repeatedly, what remained had returned to calm. “Chloe, why don’t you come home with me and Ethan? Your mom misses you too.” I myself didn’t expect that three years later, I could say it so calmly. “I don’t have a mom.” My brother, my mom. All chose her, Sophia. I, too, didn’t want them long ago. Sophia grabbed my wrist, inadvertently revealing the jade bracelet on her wrist. This was the heirloom Ethan’s mom left him. I wore this bracelet for ten years. And my relationship with Ethan only lasted ten years.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388702”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The movie had been running for ten minutes, and there was still no reply from Dean Ryder. I was about to call him when my phone buzzed with an alert. It was from his old gaming group, and Talia Shaw, his childhood friend, was tagging him frantically, begging him to log in. The next second, the account that used my couple’s avatar popped up and instantly replied: Hop on. Big brother is here to carry you. A sudden, utter hollowness settled in my chest. I backed out of the group chat without a word, bought a bucket of popcorn, and watched the rest of the premiere alone. It wasn’t until the house lights came up that I saw the dozens of missed calls from Dean. There was also a panicked, grammatically disastrous voicemail: “Babe, Talia can vouch for me! I swear, I had a real emergency that just popped up!” “Tomorrow, I promise I’ll take you to see the movie. We’ll watch it together, okay?” I didn’t reply. I finally realized my future no longer required his participation. 1 Dean came home while I was sitting on the couch playing a mobile game. “Honey, can I trade these roses for a bowl of your famous chicken noodle soup?” He knelt on the floor, looking sheepish and overtly charming, tentatively holding out a bouquet of deep red roses. I didn’t stop my game, only giving him a brief look. “Thank you.” Seeing my mild reaction, he visibly relaxed, humming as he turned on the TV to catch the entertainment news. Just as the crystal exploded and my rank went up to the next star, I gathered up the takeout containers and walked toward the kitchen. Passing the trash can, I tossed the bouquet inside. His face froze. “What the hell was that?” I was washing my hands and, confused by his abrupt, accusatory tone, glanced at him. He was staring at the trash can, looking like I’d just stomped on his sincere, fragile heart. I offered a simple explanation: “I’m allergic to pollen.” The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Unless he’d developed early-onset amnesia, he couldn’t have forgotten that two of my trips to the emergency room were due to severe pollen allergies. In previous fights, I’d accepted his roses with apology cards to give him an easy out. Now, I just felt stupid for ever letting him get away with it. Dean looked awkward. He tried to pivot. “Okay, I’ll get you a different gift next time, I promise. Anyway, I’m starving, Anya.” I yawned and headed for the bedroom. “There’s instant ramen in the pantry.” Dean looked stunned. He stared at me, incredulous. “You’re not going to make it for me?” He used to complain my homemade soup was “too simple” and “bland,” but whenever he specifically asked for my cooking, I’d feel a rush of quiet satisfaction, as if he’d finally admitted he needed me. His face darkened now. “I want your egg drop soup! Didn’t you say instant ramen was unhealthy?” I paused, speaking seriously. “Once or twice won’t hurt. Besides, you have that iron stomach, right?” My words stopped him cold. He was a former pro gamer and now an Esports coach. Because of his erratic training schedule, he often neglected healthy eating, and his stomach was a mess. I used to go out of my way to make sure he ate well. I wouldn’t have known he was feeding my carefully prepared, early-morning nutrition meals to someone else if I hadn’t decided to surprise him with soup at his training facility one day. I lost it that day. I cried, I yelled. Dean just watched my meltdown quietly. When I finally tired myself out, he pulled me into his arms. “If I really wanted Talia, you think you’d still be here?” “Anya, you’re two years older than me. Can you just be mature about this? It was just a lunchbox.” “She has a delicate stomach, so I gave her the meal to help her out. I have an iron stomach; I can eat anything.” Dean frowned, looking me up and down. He let out a short, cold laugh. “You’re still mad because I missed the movie, aren’t you?” “Fine, be mad at me. But this is between us. You just quietly leaving the group chat—how do you think that makes Talia look? She’s the admin.” It was just a group for boosting ranks; members came and went. Me leaving would embarrass Talia? “I’m not throwing a fit. I don’t know anyone in that chat. It makes no difference if I leave.” I was too tired for this and wanted to sleep. But he changed his expression and blocked the bedroom door. “You left right when Talia was asking me to play a match.” “Anyone who doesn’t know the situation will assume she intervened in our relationship and drove you out of the group.” That made me laugh for real. He was afraid his childhood friend would be labeled a homewrecker. “Fine. Fine. I’ll make a post clarifying it. Tomorrow.” “Is that what this is about…” Bang. I locked the door behind me. 2 Dean wasn’t the type to sleep on the sofa—that was below him. The last time he slept on the sofa was right before he retired from professional gaming. I had stayed up all night with him during a training session. I fell asleep on his single bed while watching a movie. He was afraid of waking me, so he tiptoed away and squeezed himself onto a small futon couch for the night. I told him to replace the tiny bed with a queen size. He just smiled and tapped my nose. “Don’t think for a second you’re going to be able to control me twenty-four-seven.” Now, the practice room had a new, huge bed. When I asked him why, he shrugged. “Talia hosts tournaments sometimes, and she stops by to rest. The old bed wasn’t comfortable for her.” His blunt honesty left me speechless. He didn’t even realize he was instinctively putting Talia before everything else. Dean didn’t show up at the apartment for three days. But his Instagram feed was overflowing with his life. He was back to racing and hitting the city’s hottest bars, completely in his element. He’d posted more in three days than he had in the last six months combined. Scrolling down, I saw Talia’s recent post. The photo showed Dean in his racing suit, his arm casually around Talia’s waist, raising a trophy and grinning. The caption: Boys will be boys. Guess he’s still a big kid. They looked exactly like a couple in the throes of new romance, sharing a moment of triumph. I tapped the like button. Then I called a car service and went to the office to submit my resignation. My manager was surprised. “So sudden?” She knew how hard I’d fought to get here. From an industry novice to someone well-respected with strong connections—it had cost me countless late nights, endless rounds of drinks, and swallowing my pride more times than I could count. I didn’t actually love the work. I persisted for two reasons: one, the job was strategically helpful for Dean’s career; and two, I was fiercely competitive and needed to prove I could succeed. As she signed the paperwork, my manager teased me. “I heard your family is overseas. Are you going back to get married?” I smiled and shook my head. “I guess I’m just homesick.” I had defied my family’s wishes to chase this love across the country. It turned out I bet on the wrong person. When my colleagues heard I was leaving, they insisted on a farewell dinner. I couldn’t refuse, so I agreed to host. I didn’t expect to run into Dean and Talia at the restaurant. Fortunately, they were on their way out just as we were being seated. As we brushed past, Dean gave me a cold, dismissive look, then smiled and wrapped his arm around Talia’s shoulders. “Let’s go. Big brother is taking you for some killer shots tonight.” A flicker of surprise crossed Talia’s face, quickly replaced by a challenging look directed at me. She leaned into Dean’s ear, giggling. “Aren’t you worried about Anya getting upset?” Dean scoffed. “She doesn’t get a say.” I heard their retreating footsteps and felt a wave of relief. This was best. No awkward small talk required. The dinner with my colleagues was fun and went on past midnight. I was trying to call a cab when a familiar Porsche Panamera pulled up beside me. The window lowered, revealing Dean’s grim face. “Get in.” I was annoyed and surprised—drunk driving was illegal. He instantly saw my thought and snapped impatiently. “Hanging out with a bunch of guys, drinking until midnight. You’re unbelievable, Anya.” “I haven’t had a drop of alcohol. Now, move the car, or I’ll get a cab.” It was genuinely hard to find a ride at this hour. I swallowed my annoyance and climbed into the back seat. I closed my eyes for a moment to rest. When I opened the window for some fresh air, I realized the car hadn’t moved. I opened my eyes and met Dean’s intense, complicated gaze. “Anya Wells, am I your chauffeur?” I paused, then spoke without thinking. “Huh? Didn’t you say I don’t get carsick, so I should just sit in the back?” 3 I wasn’t a person who liked to dredge up old wounds—especially since I was already planning to break up with him. But his righteous accusation, as if I were the rude one, made me throw that jab. The passenger seat had briefly belonged to me. But after Talia moved, Dean started “conveniently” driving her to and from work. She got violently carsick, and Dean gave me a definitive look: “Anya, you’re fine in the car. Go sit in the back.” The words choked me. My nose stung. “Why should I? I won’t.” From then on, he left early every day just to avoid me, terrified I might try to ride in his car. I sighed and closed my eyes again. “If you’re not driving, open the door. I’ll call a Lyft.” I heard an exasperated sigh, and the engine finally turned over. When we got home, Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, his face etched with weariness. “Honey, can we just stop fighting now?” All I wanted was a hot bath. I casually agreed. “Sure.” He suddenly became agitated. “Talia and I are only friends. She said she’d never been racing, so I took her. That’s all.” “I know.” I stood in front of the bathroom cabinet, debating between a bath bomb and Epsom salts. He seemed lost for a response. “Then why didn’t you even reply to my texts?” I pretended not to hear and stepped into the bathroom. It was only then that I saw how many messages he’d sent after I learned to block him out. I went to the bar because you locked the door. I couldn’t sleep on the floor, could I? I’ve decided I’m never giving up racing for you. I was kidding, Anya! Don’t take it seriously. Not replying to me? You’re really going through with this. I’m waiting for your shift to end so I can take you home. Anya, I give up… Thinking back to the movie night, the sheer emptiness of waiting for a single text from him, I suddenly understood. He could care. He could be anxious about missing a message. He could guard his chat window all day, just waiting for my reply—but only when I pulled away. Dean used to set my contact to Do Not Disturb because he found me annoying. But the constantly buzzing gaming group chat? He’d never muted that. No wonder Talia could tag him in the group and get a reply in seconds. I got out of the shower and felt a new kind of dilemma. The apartment only had one bedroom with a comfortable bed. If I broke up with him right now, I’d have nowhere to sleep. Dean seemed even more distressed. He looked at me, opening and closing his mouth as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Then his phone rang. It was Talia. He quickly answered, the girl’s muffled, crying voice faintly audible. He hung up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Talia had an accident, didn’t she? Don’t worry. Go.” His tension eased. “She got into a fender-bender. It’s her first time, and she doesn’t know what to do. I’m just going to go help her.” “Please, don’t read anything more into this. I’m begging you.” He naturally reached out and gave me a quick, thoughtless hug. I stood rigid, barely stopping myself from pushing him away with all my strength. Focused only on Talia, he missed my small, telling gesture. He turned and rushed out the door. Before falling asleep, I unpinned Dean’s contact from the top of my chat list. He sent several more scattered messages. The latest read: The hospital won’t let me leave. They said I have to stay as a guardian. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow… I didn’t read past that. I tossed my phone aside and fell asleep. 4 Dean’s “tomorrow” was never actually tomorrow. After my resignation handoff was finalized, I moved into my best friend Piper’s apartment. Late one night, we ordered a ton of fried chicken and huddled on the sofa to watch a horror movie. Just before the jump scare was about to pop up, I cleverly started scrolling through my phone. When I saw Talia’s Instagram post, it felt like I’d missed the jump scare entirely. The photo showed Dean, sleeves rolled up, offering a peeled apple to a frail, white-haired elderly woman. Little Grandma, I finally pulled it off and brought him to meet you. The comments below were what really hit me: If Dean’s “pretend boyfriend” stunt gets back to Anya, she’s gonna flip the entire planet, LOL. Anya shouldn’t be jealous, haha. Dean can’t live without her. These were his former teammates. They had always disliked me, thinking I was too controlling, too old, and unworthy of Dean. Dean had always passively allowed their snide remarks and insults. He’d just laugh and wave it off. “They’re just joking. You know I can’t live without you.” It turned out that simple, dismissive reassurance had become their private joke at my expense. “What are you looking at?” Piper clapped my shoulder. Startled, I dropped my phone, and she snatched it up. Her eyes immediately went red with fury. “That dog! I’m going to kill him!” She immediately called Dean. He didn’t answer. “It’s okay, Piper. I don’t love him anymore.” I wasn’t heartbroken; my eyes just felt a little raw. Piper sighed and helped me block Dean’s number and all his social media accounts. “I just feel like you wasted so much time.” It wasn’t a waste; seeing the truth of this relationship now was still a win. Piper’s anger faded as quickly as it came. When the delivery arrived, she insisted on playing rock-paper-scissors to see who had to answer the door. “You cheated!” I laughed. I pulled open the door, and my smile froze instantly. Dean stood on the mat, travel-worn and haggard. I was about to slam the door shut, but he braced his hand against the frame, his eyes red and his voice hoarse. “Anya, you quit your job behind my back, and you blocked me?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388718”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The entitled brat had ordered a massive clutch of German cockroach eggs online and deliberately had the package shipped to my local package annex, only to refuse pickup. Three days later, The Hub—my business, my livelihood—was swallowed by a black, scuttling army of insects, resulting in catastrophic damages. I spent a fortune on hazmat cleanup, negotiating compensation with every victim and neighboring business. But the parents, in a move of unbelievable malice, showed up with a fake appraisal, claiming the pests were rare, million-dollar medicinal insects, demanding I pay them for damages. I snapped. We were entangled in a screaming, public war. The next day, the parents united all the neighborhood victims—the people whose homes I was trying to save—and besieged The Hub, live-streaming the ordeal to publicly crucify me. Cornered, stripped of my reputation and my future, I jumped from the rooftop. I was reborn the instant the package was scanned into my inventory. My first action was dialing the father’s number. “Your package? I’ve already delivered it.” 1 On the other end of the line, Asher’s father, Garrett, was silent for a few seconds. “Delivered it? What package?” His tone was irritable, a sharp annoyance at having his Saturday morning sleep-in interrupted by my work. I let a soft, cold laugh escape, my voice perfectly placid. “A very special one. The recipient is your son, Asher.” “I left it on your doorstep.” I hung up, deleted the call record, and promptly blocked the number. In my last life, it was this boy, Asher, who had destroyed everything with one box of cockroach oothecae. He had placed a specific note with his order: “Live Cargo/Perishable. Do not contact. Hold for 72 hours upon arrival.” I was slammed that week. My new assistant, inexperienced and overworked, had done exactly as instructed, placing the unremarkable cardboard box in a back corner. Seventy-two hours later, my package annex became a kingdom of roaches. The sight of it was a living, breathing hellscape. But now, I was back. I was reborn ten minutes after the package containing the “surprise” was scanned. I looked at the plain brown box, and a faint, phantom ache throbbed in the corner of my heart. I pulled on gloves, picked up the box, and walked out of The Hub. I placed it squarely on the welcome mat of Garrett and Melody’s front door and snapped a photo. Then, I nudged the package with my toe—just a gentle half-meter slide—until it rested by the door of the neighbor: Doris Finch. Doris was the one who, in the last life, had been the most venomous during the online attacks, screaming the cruelest things alongside Asher’s parents. She was also notoriously greedy, known for snatching a package if she thought she could get away with it. I knew exactly what that cheap, nosy old woman would do. Having completed my task, I returned to The Hub as if nothing had happened. It was three in the afternoon, the height of the pickup rush. A small figure squeezed through the crowd, his face twisted in a look of malice that was unnerving for a child. It was Asher. He walked up to the counter, stood on his tiptoes, and knocked. “Hey, is my package here? Name’s Asher.” I didn’t look up, continuing to scan codes. “It’s been delivered.” The smug smile on Asher’s face froze. “What? I marked it for pick-up!” “The system flagged it for priority delivery, so I sent it out.” I finally raised my eyes, meeting his with a chilling stare. “Is there a problem?” My intensity unnerved him, but he still bristled. “Where did you send it? I didn’t see it when I got home!” “Your front door. I took a picture.” I showed him the photo I had prepared. In the image, the box sat innocently on his family’s mat. Asher’s face went instantly white. He knew what was in that box. He knew the consequences if that thing hatched on his property. He let out a small, strangled sound, like a cat with its tail stepped on, and bolted for the door. Watching his frantic retreat, the curve of my lips widened. The show had just begun. 2 Less than half an hour later, my phone was ringing off the hook. It was Garrett. He was screaming into the receiver, his voice choked with rage. “Vivian! Where in the hell did you put that package? It’s not on my doorstep! “Did you steal it?” I calmly pulled my phone from my ear and spoke in a monotone. “Mr. Price, you need to provide evidence for slander. I have photo documentation proving my duties were completed. “As for why the package is gone, you should inquire with your neighbors. Or perhaps call the police.” “A picture? A picture is worthless! That package is essential. If it’s lost, I swear to God, you and I are going to have a serious problem!” He was still bellowing when I disconnected the call. The silence was instant, and glorious. Moments later, a black sedan slammed its brakes outside The Hub. Garrett and his wife, Melody, stormed inside, their faces contorted with fury. Garrett, a man whose face was already too wide, pointed a thick finger at my nose. “You little thief! Hand over my son’s package now!” Melody chimed in with her usual passive-aggressive whine. “Tsk, tsk. Such a young girl. Why are your hands so sticky? “It’s just a package. Is it really worth ruining your reputation over a few dollars?” The neighbors and regulars picking up their mail stopped, watching the unfolding scene with curiosity. I ignored their histrionics, slowly wiping down the counter. “I’ll say this one last time: I delivered the package to the designated location, and I have photographic proof. “If you believe I stole it, you are welcome to call the police immediately.” My absolute calm completely enraged them. Garrett slammed his palm onto the counter, making the packages jump. “Call the police? You think I won’t? I’ll smash this whole sorry excuse for a business! “I’m not just calling the cops, I’m going to the corporate HQ! I’ll get your franchise revoked! You’ll never work in this town again!” Melody played her part, turning to the growing crowd to wail. “Everyone, please judge for yourselves! Is there any justice left? “We just lost a package, and instead of helping, she takes this attitude! “These young people today have no morals!” A few uninformed neighbors started to side with them. “Vivian, maybe you should just look again?” “Yeah, sweetie, peace is more profitable than pride.” I looked at the couple, masters of manipulation and false victimhood, a familiar, cold dread in my chest. This was the exact performance they had used last time to drive me to the rooftop. This time, I wouldn’t give them an inch. I put down the cleaning rag, pulled out my phone, and aimed it at them. “You want to cause a scene? Fine. I’ll open a live stream. We can let everyone on the internet watch how you, Mr. Price, are completely losing it over one ‘worthless’ package.” Garrett and Melody’s expressions twisted into shocked confusion. They hadn’t anticipated that move. Just then, Asher slid out of the car, sprinting to his mother’s side, on the verge of tears. “Mom! Stop fighting! We have to find it! We have to find it now!” Melody was too invested in her performance to listen, pushing him away. “Find what? We’re not leaving until she hands it over! “What did you buy that’s so important, Asher?” “I bought… some small toys…” Asher looked at his mother, then at me, unable to meet either of our eyes. His gaze was filled with a chilling blend of pure terror and despair. He knew the time bomb had been ticking for too long. 3 I finally managed to usher Garrett and Melody out. As they left, Garrett jabbed a finger in my direction, his eyes promising retribution. “You haven’t heard the last of this!” I watched them get in their car and peel away, my expression unmoved. I knew this was only the beginning. Sure enough, that evening, the HOA neighborhood chat exploded. Melody, using an anonymous account, spun a vivid tale about the “thieving, black-hearted owner of the package annex” who had stolen her child’s priceless heirloom. She painted me as a greedy, rude criminal, and she posted my photo and The Hub’s address. [The nerve! Stealing a kid’s toys. Some people are just trash.] [She looks so sweet and honest. You never know who you can trust.] *[@Vivian, care to explain yourself?] I was tagged relentlessly. My phone vibrated nonstop. Soon after, the regional manager from the national shipping carrier called, his voice tight with displeasure. “Vivian, what is going on? We have a massive complaint about theft, and they are threatening legal action. This is bad PR. “I don’t care how you do it, but you need to make this go away. Now.” Calmly, I sent the manager the full sequence of events and the photo proof. “Sir, my work was flawless. The customer is making an unreasonable demand. “Delivering a package to the home address is a service we offer. “As for the complaint, I trust the company will draw its own fair conclusions.” The manager went quiet. I knew he didn’t care about the truth; he only cared about stopping the noise. In my past life, this was how I was slowly, deliberately pushed to the edge. But this time, I wouldn’t be their scapegoat. I didn’t offer a single word of defense in the chat. Trying to reason with an angry, mobilized mob is the stupidest thing in the world. Instead, I quietly accessed the feed from the new, high-definition security camera I’d installed near the counter. The footage clearly captured Garrett and Melody’s aggressive screaming, their threats, and my composed response as I requested them to leave. I edited the video, isolating the worst moments, and saved it. Meanwhile, Asher was in a panic. He couldn’t tell his parents the box contained roach eggs. He could only hint that his “toy” was very sensitive and had to be found immediately. He searched the hallways like a frantic animal, ripping through every trash can. His strange behavior, naturally, attracted the attention of the neighbors—especially Doris Finch, the woman who lived directly across the hall. Doris was a known petty thief. She watched Asher’s increasingly deranged searching and grew suspicious. She remembered seeing a plain box outside the Price’s door that morning. It looked unremarkable, so she had scooped it up and taken it home. Could it be a hidden treasure? She hid the box deeper in her closet. She had no idea she was hoarding not a treasure, but a biological weapon about to detonate the entire building. Late that night, I lay awake, waiting. I knew that soon—maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after—the great roach feast that had once consumed my business would elegantly begin, somewhere else.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388735”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

It was the end of the year, and bonus season had just hit. I decided to splurge and sent a surprise gift to my boyfriend’s office. The tracking notification popped up on my phone: Delivered. Yet, hours passed, and he didn’t say a word. It wasn’t until the next day that he finally sent a hesitant voice note. “…Babe, did you buy me a gift?” He sounded incredibly unsure, almost nervous. A sudden instinct to test him bubbled up. I half-joked, “No. Why? Did someone else buy you a gift?” He laughed it off awkwardly. “Maybe it was sent by mistake, or from another friend… I’ll ask around.” My heart went cold. Ask around? Who else would be sending him a set of couple’s rings? 1 Realizing something was off, I pressed him intentionally. “What kind of gift was it?” Ethan stammered. “…Nothing expensive. Just a pair of sneakers.” He was lying again. My heart trembled. The line went dead before I could say anything else. I was restless all day. I knew this wasn’t simple. When he came home that night, he acted perfectly normal. It was as if the afternoon’s conversation never happened. I brought it up on purpose. “Where are the sneakers? Let me see them.” He froze for a second. “What sneakers?” Then he recovered. “Oh, those. It was a colleague’s order sent to my desk by mistake. I already gave them back.” He immediately changed the subject. “I’m going to take a shower. We can talk later.” He walked into the bathroom, gripping his phone tightly in his hand. Even when we went to bed, the phone never left his side. He had a privacy screen protector, so I couldn’t see a thing. I swallowed my anxiety and waited. Finally, I heard the soft rhythm of his snoring. Holding my breath like a thief in my own home, I slid his phone out from under his pillow. I used his thumb to unlock it. In eight years together, this was the first time I had ever checked his phone. His texts and WhatsApp were clean. Too clean. I trusted my gut. I swiped up to see his recently used apps. Aside from the usual social media, I saw an app he hadn’t used in years—Discord. driven by some invisible force, I opened it. The chat list was empty. He had cleared the history. But I knew Discord’s search function could sometimes pull up cached logs. I typed “Ring” into the search bar. A recent chat log appeared immediately. …Found it. My fingertips trembled as I clicked on it. My heart felt like it had been stabbed. Right after Ethan asked me about the gift this morning, he immediately messaged a user named “Chloe_XO”. Because I denied sending it, he assumed the gift was from her. Ethan: Babe, the gift arrived. Chloe_XO: …What gift? Ethan: The couple’s rings. Chloe_XO: What rings? What are you talking about? Ethan didn’t reply for a long time. He must have realized that if neither I nor Chloe sent them, he was in trouble. He started spinning a lie to cover his tracks. Ethan: My project bonus came in. I bought us a pair of couple’s rings. It’s my surprise for you. She replied instantly. Chloe_XO: Thank you, hubby! <3 She added a cute sticker of a bear hugging a heart. I felt dizzy, the room spinning around me. Ethan was cheating. He had a mistress. But a few seconds later, I clicked on Chloe's profile picture, and that theory crumbled. Her profile picture was a wedding photo. And the groom was Ethan. They... were already married? I wasn't the girlfriend being cheated on. I was the mistress. 2 I didn't sleep a wink. I didn't confront Ethan immediately. instead, I pretended I knew nothing. After he left for work, I called in sick. I drove straight to the address mentioned in their chat history history—a house in the suburbs. I stood at the door for a long time, building up the courage to ring the bell. A little boy, maybe five or six years old, opened the door. He looked at me curiously, then turned back and yelled, "Mom... someone's here." My heart was in my throat. Chloe finally appeared. She looked just like her wedding photo, though tired. She wore loose loungewear, no makeup. Her belly was visibly rounded. She was at least six months pregnant. In her hand, she held a bunch of unwashed vegetables. She looked like the quintessential wife waiting for her husband to return. My gaze drifted down to her hand. On her finger sat a diamond band. It was the female ring from the set I had sent Ethan. "Can I... help you?" she asked, looking confused as she pulled her son close. My throat felt like it was filled with sand. "Do you know Ethan Miller?" Before Chloe could speak, the little boy chirped up. "Ethan is my Daddy! Do you have work stuff for my Daddy?" Chloe smiled politely. "Ethan is my husband." The sky crashed down on me. I could barely stand. "...How long have you been married?" Chloe frowned slightly. "Who... are you?" "I..." Before I could answer, my phone rang. It was Ethan. I declined it. He called again. And again. When I finally answered, Ethan's voice was dark and terrifying. "Sarah, leave my house right now!" I gritted my teeth. "Why should I? I'm going to get to the bottom of this today!" "I'll tell you everything you want to know," he hissed, panic seeping in. "Just don't stress Chloe out. She's pregnant. If anything happens to the baby, you can't handle the consequences." His voice was full of threats. He sounded like a stranger. In front of me, Chloe still looked confused. "Do you need something from my husband? He's at work. He won't be back until seven." "Are you a friend of his? Why don't you stay for dinner? I made extra." She smiled warmly. It felt like someone had stabbed me in the chest. She was pregnant. Innocent. If I caused a scene now, and she miscarried... I don't remember how I left. As soon as I got downstairs to the parking lot, I saw Ethan sprinting toward me like a madman. He had been watching me through their doorbell camera. "You... you didn't say anything to Chloe, did you?" "She's carrying my child, Sarah. I'm begging you, don't hurt her, okay?" "If you have anger, take it out on me." His face was full of pleading. He looked like he was about to cry. To maintain a shred of dignity, I said, "Let's go back to my place." The moment we walked through my door, he dropped to his knees. Thud. "Sarah, I'm sorry. Hit me, curse at me, just please calm down!" "...So the child is yours? Chloe is really your wife?" He wept, nodding his head, his face buried in his hands. I swayed on my feet. "So, which one of us is the mistress?" 3 He was silent for a long time. Finally, the truth came out. We had been together for eight years. In our second year, he started sleeping with Chloe. "You were sent to London for that assignment... eighteen months. We were apart. I'm a man, Sarah, I have needs." "Chloe was an intern at my company. She confessed to me first..." "The first time, I was drunk. I pretended she was you. I didn't think one time would result in a pregnancy." "You know my parents were pressuring me to settle down. I knew you were focused on your career, and because of your parents' divorce, you were terrified of marriage. I didn't want to force you... and Chloe was pregnant, so..." I laughed. A dry, humorless sound. "So you married her?" He nodded silently. "Sarah, but I love you. Chloe is just a responsibility... you have to believe me!" He tried to grab my hand. Nausea rolled in my stomach. I shoved him away. This man was a stranger. While I was in London for a year and a half, we FaceTimed every day. He reported his location constantly. Whenever he had a holiday, he flew to see me. I remember one Valentine's Day. He had a 102-degree fever but flew across the ocean just to stand under my apartment building and surprise me. I stood there in the snow, moved to tears by his pale face and his declarations of love. But that same year... He not only cheated, but he also started a whole other family. He played me like a fool. For the next six years, every "business trip" or "overtime" was spent in that suburban house. Earlier this year, he and Chloe conceived their second child. The happiness I thought I had was more fragile than a soap bubble. It was all fake. "Sarah..." Ethan was hyperventilating from crying so hard. "Please forgive me. I really can't live without you!" I looked at him, feeling nothing but irony. "You still want to be with me?" He nodded frantically. "What about your wife and kids?" "I already discussed it with Chloe. We have an open marriage. She won't interfere with my life." "As long as you don't go to her, don't bother her, she won't trouble us." I smiled. Then I yanked my hand away. "Ethan, do you think this is the 1800s? You want a harem?" "Get out!" I grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from the table and smashed it on the floor. "Get the hell out of my house!" I used every ounce of strength to shove him out the door. He pounded on it for a while, begging. Then, silence. Followed by a dry, awkward voice through the wood. He dropped the act. "Sarah, my son has a fever. He needs his dad. I have to go..." And then, he was gone. My head spun. I broke out in a cold sweat. I checked my temperature. 104 degrees. I collapsed onto the sofa and passed out. When I woke up, it was the next morning. Ethan hadn't come back. I was fully awake now. The fever had burned away the delusions. I couldn't stay in this sick triangle. I needed to cut Ethan out like a tumor. I remembered seeing Chloe's user ID on Discord. I sent a friend request. I got straight to the point: [Do you know Ethan is living a double life? We need to meet.] A long time later, she replied: [Okay.] I went to her house again. This time, as soon as I walked in, I asked her to unplug the security cameras. I laid it all out. "He lied to both of us. We are both victims here. We need to team up and make him pay." Chloe listened quietly, her expression bland. "Are you done?" "Sarah, did you really think I didn't know you existed?"

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388751”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day I was brought back to the military base, I learned that I was the Commander’s only biological daughter. There was no hostility as I had imagined. My parents’ eyes were red when they saw me. Even Sarah, the girl who had enjoyed eighteen years of blessings in my place, meekly called me “Sister” and thoughtfully handed me slippers. But I just felt uncomfortable. When I couldn’t distinguish between a coffee spoon and a soup spoon, when I mispronounced “Shakespeare” as “Shake-spear”. I could always hear snickers behind my back. Until the neighbor, Mrs. Johnson, muttered to my mother. “Sarah is still the gracious one, presentable to take out. Luna… well, she lacks breeding after all.” I finally smashed the cup in my hand towards them. My mother roared at me. “Luna Vance! What are you making a scene about now!” I gritted my teeth. “You all just think I’m inferior to her in every way! She’s the one who stole my life, do I still have to listen with a smile?” My father stood at the door at some point, his face gloomy. “Enough! Sarah is innocent too!” “She’s innocent?” I laughed out loud, but tears fell. “So am I not innocent? Do I deserve everything?” I wiped my tears, speaking word by word. “This house cannot accommodate two daughters. You choose one.” …… My mother walked over, trying to take my hand, but I dodged abruptly. “Don’t touch me!” My mother missed, her hand frozen in mid-air. Seeing this, my father walked over and slapped me. His face was ashen. “Luna Vance, if you continue to be such a disgrace, don’t tell anyone you’re my daughter.” I covered my face and actually laughed. “Daughter? Do you really treat me as a daughter? In your eyes, am I not just an embarrassing country bumpkin?” I rushed back to my room, took out the old fountain pen with a slightly crooked nib, and smashed it hard on the floor. A few weeks ago, the family gave me this pen. I secretly vowed to study hard. To show them that even if I didn’t grow up in the city, I could catch up through hard work. I treated this pen as a treasure, reluctant to press too hard when practicing handwriting. But that day, I heard two kids next door discussing loudly in English without any inhibition. “Look at her broken pen, she uses it like a treasure every day, so tacky.” “Exactly, Sister Sarah stopped using such outdated models long ago. Only country bumpkins like her would treat someone else’s trash as a treasure.” The pen nib pierced my palm, but I felt no pain. It turned out the starting point I treasured was just a piece of trash to be laughed at in others’ eyes. At that moment, I felt cold all over. Clearly, I am the biological one. Why is she adored in the compound, while I was called a “bastard with no parents” in the village? Now even a fountain pen is a style she picked over and didn’t want. My voice trembled: “As soon as I came, everyone switched to English. I couldn’t tell coffee from black tea, and you mocked me. Imported chocolates, the latest things, were always sent to Sarah’s room first! Isn’t it just because you think I’m tacky, don’t understand, and don’t deserve to use them?” My mother explained anxiously. “Those were just kids joking, no malice!” My father also frowned tightly. “The family never shorted you on food stamps or fabric coupons. If you like something, buy it at the commissary yourself.” Sarah came over with tears in her eyes to hold my hand. “Sister, don’t be angry. You can take whatever you like from my room! If you want to learn English, I can teach you!” I shook off her hand, glaring at her deathly. “Who is your sister? There is only one daughter in this family, I don’t have a sister like you!” “Everything in this house should have been mine! You stole my life, and now you’re pretending to be a good person?” I pointed at Sarah and looked at my parents: “I want her gone. I want her to go back to her own home!” For a moment, the entire compound was terribly quiet. Sarah opened her mouth, tears falling, but made no sound. My mother hurriedly comforted me. “Luna, don’t say angry words…” Looking at their expressions, I understood everything. They wouldn’t choose me. My heart was cold and numb. I bent down and picked up the broken fountain pen on the floor. “You can’t bear to send her away, right?” Under their astonished gazes, I slashed my wrist fiercely with the nib. Warm liquid gushed out, falling on the floor. It didn’t hurt. Just felt relieved. I looked up and laughed low. “Then I’ll go.” When I slowly woke up, I found myself sent to the infirmary. I ripped off the needle on the back of my hand, lifted the quilt, and rushed out. Just at the door, I was stopped by my mother who hurried over. “Luna! My child! Calm down! Don’t do this anymore, it hurts Mom to see!” Her voice trembled, hugging me tightly. I struggled too hard, and the newly bandaged wound on my wrist burst open. Blood instantly stained the gauze red, dripping on the floor. But I seemed not to feel the pain, just looking at her absent-mindedly. “Hurts? You only feel hurt for Sarah… I’m just a country bumpkin who embarrasses you.” Just then, Sarah appeared at the corner of the corridor. Hearing my words, she stood blankly on the spot, the bag in her hand falling to the ground. She looked down at the fallen paper bag, silent for a few seconds. When she looked up again, there was a bitter smile on her face that was uglier than crying. “Mom,” Her voice was very light, with a calm of resignation. “Don’t be troubled… I’ll go.” She carefully picked up the paper bag and wiped the dust off it with her cuff. Then she walked up to me, handed the paper bag with both hands, her eyes filled with almost humble pleading. “Sister… this is a new shirt I bought for you, to compensate you. I’m sorry… it’s all my fault.” She wanted to stuff the paper bag into my hand, but hesitated, afraid to anger me again. My mother turned her face away, eyes red, and finally sighed long. “Sigh… Sarah, don’t be like this. Mom… Mom will talk to your dad.” A few days later, Sarah really moved out. Traces of her in the house were completely erased, as if she had never existed for these eighteen years. I was extremely happy, feeling that this home finally belonged completely to me. But I found that relaxed smiles were rarely seen on my parents’ faces anymore. I thought it was because I wasn’t good enough, didn’t work hard enough. I started cooking, making different delicious foods for my parents every day. Getting up before dawn every day to memorize words, do exercises, vowing to get into the best university and become their pride. Until New Year’s Eve, every household was bustling. Our family made dumplings with neighbors in the communal cafeteria. I clumsily learned to roll the dough, wanting to blend into this festivity. Luna’s once best friend blocked me by the stove when no one was paying attention. “Do you think by driving Sarah away, you can join us?” She crossed her arms, looking me up and down coldly. My hand adding firewood to the stove paused. “I didn’t drive her away, she felt sorry for me herself so…” “Come on,” She sneered, interrupting me. “Do you rural people always love to lie with eyes open like this? Now who in the whole compound doesn’t know that as soon as the ‘real daughter’ of the Vance family came back, she forced away our Sarah, whom we watched grow up, the most excellent and sensible one? Uncle Vance has no face to show when he goes out for meetings now!” Although the stove fire was flourishing, I felt cold all over. Why does everyone say that? Clearly, I am the victim whose life was stolen. Why does everyone think Sarah is pitiful? She stepped closer, voice filled with undisguised contempt. “Every time Uncle Vance took her out, who didn’t praise ‘like father, like daughter’? She speaks fluent English, plays the piano, behaves generously and appropriately. How much face did she earn for Uncle Vance? Besides throwing tantrums and threatening people, what can you do?” I opened my mouth, but my throat felt blocked, unable to spit out a word. Looking at my pale face, she suddenly covered her mouth and laughed. “You don’t really think Sarah went back to her poor mountain village, do you? Naive! Aunt Susan felt sorry for her and arranged a leisurely and decent job for her in the logistics department long ago. Now she has moved into the single dormitory assigned by the unit, conditions even better than at home! You…” “Just stay here and be your real daughter properly!” The staff dormitory was only a few streets away from the compound. I found the place without much effort and said to the comrade on guard at the door: “I am James Vance’s daughter, here to find my dad.” The door was ajar. I saw my parents standing at the door carrying big and small bags with loving faces. Sarah stood aside, reaching out to take them, but was blocked by my father. “You child, Mom and Dad are here to work for you, just rest well!” My father’s voice carried a smiling reproach. My mother put down the things and touched Sarah’s cheek with heartache. “Sarah, how can this dormitory condition compare to home? Is it cold at night? Is it convenient to eat? If anything happens, you must tell Mom, don’t wrong yourself, hear me?” Sarah smiled and massaged my mother’s shoulders, voice soft. “I know, Mom is the best to me! Dad too! I can’t bear to let you go…” The three faces were filled with warmth, about to carry things into the door. I walked over. “This staff dormitory looks quite comfortable to live in.” The three froze simultaneously. My father turned his head sharply, tone stiff. “How did you find this place?” I looked at their posture of subconsciously protecting Sarah. Looking at the panic in Sarah’s eyes and my mother’s pale face, I felt my blood coagulate. My voice began to tremble uncontrollably. “Didn’t I say… don’t interact with her anymore! Why… why did you still come to find her! And still… care about her so much!!” The last few words were almost roared out. My mother covered my mouth, whispering anxiously: “Keep your voice down! What are you shouting for! If the neighbors hear, how embarrassing for Sarah!” “Embarrassing?” Tears finally surged out uncontrollably. I threw off my mother’s hand and rolled up my sleeves. On them, new and old scars crisscrossed densely. “See this? These! Are all done by your ‘precious daughter’s’ biological parents!” They once made me wear single layer clothes to wash clothes in the frozen river in winter. Later, for two hundred dollars of dowry, they sold me to the village chief’s foolish son. I risked my life to escape, was caught back and beaten half dead… I pointed at Sarah, fingertips trembling. “If it weren’t for my dad… if the people my dad sent to find me didn’t arrive that day, I might be dead already!” I raised my teary eyes, looking at my parents, every word weeping blood. “Why? I lived in that hell for eighteen years. When you took me back, did you ever ask me ‘does it still hurt’, ‘are you afraid’? You didn’t! You only despised my roughness, despised me for being embarrassing!” My gaze turned to this tidy and warm dormitory. “But she just moved into this single dormitory! And you are so distressed?” My mother’s voice was already tinged with crying. “That… that’s different…” “What’s different?” I interrupted her sternly. My mother was rendered speechless by my questioning and blurted out. “After all, Sarah… we raised her with our own hands…” This sentence completely crushed and shattered the last faint hope in my heart. It turned out that blood ties were so fragile in the face of the warmth of day-to-day getting along. My mother was startled by her own blurted words, a flash of regret on her face. “Mom didn’t mean that…” “But encountering such a thing, Sarah was just a child then, she definitely didn’t want this either. Now Sarah has moved out. We as parents have been very fair, what more do you want?” I was stunned. What did I want? I just… just wanted to have equal weight as Sarah in their eyes. I just wanted them to ask me a sentence when I was in pain, just like they were nervous about whether Sarah was cold. How come now, it’s all my fault? A wave of grievance surged in my heart. “Fair? Just because the suffering I endured didn’t fall on the daughter you ‘raised with your own hands’, so you think it doesn’t matter, right? I just wanted you to look at me more, care about me a little more!” I pointed at Sarah, then at myself. “Both are daughters, you named her ‘Sarah’, cherishing her like a treasure! What about me? The day I came back was the full moon, you casually called me ‘Luna’! Even the name is so casual! Is this your so-called ‘fairness’?!” In the dormitory corridor, several doors had quietly opened a crack. Curious or probing gazes were cast over. My father’s face instantly turned ashen, veins throbbing on his forehead. He looked at me and growled: “Haven’t you embarrassed us enough!” “Guards!” Two guards who had been standing nearby stepped forward. “Send her back.” My father’s voice was unquestionable. “Without my permission, she is not allowed to come to the military area at will again!” I was almost half-carried away from that dormitory building. Father and mother, no one followed, and no one looked back at me. Back in that terribly quiet home, I was alone again. For the first few days, I locked myself in the room, cried, hated, and smashed things. But slowly, something colder and clearer replaced the hysteria. Since tears and questioning couldn’t exchange for equal love, since blood ties couldn’t beat day-to-day getting along. Then what do I want these empty expectations for? If love can’t be begged, then exchange for something tangible. A few days later, I went directly to my father’s office. Seeing me, his brows furrowed immediately. “What do you want this time?” His tone was undisguised impatience. I wasn’t agitated like before, my tone calm without any ripples. “Dad, since you arranged a job in the logistics department for Sarah and let her live in a single dormitory.” I paused, saying word by word: “Then I want a job too. Better than hers, with more future.” “Also, I want a house. In the city, it must be in a good location, a house that belongs to me.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388767”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I filed for divorce, Damon Maxwell was playing with a scrap of lace his latest fling had sent him, a cheap, brazen gesture of affection. He typed out the hotel room number, sent it, and then glanced at the paperwork. “Making a big production out of it this time, aren’t we, Your Majesty?” I spoke calmly: “I haven’t touched the accounts you set up. I’m waiving claim to the house and the cars. I’ve already sent the paperwork to your lawyer.” He froze for a beat or two, still operating under the assumption that this was another tantrum. “Waiving everything?” “Then what do you want, Serena? My fidelity?” “Sweetheart, I’ve always been clear. You’re the main event, the love of my life. But exclusivity? That’s just… boring.” He held out a tissue, assuming I would dissolve into tears, the way I always had. My heart would break, and the waterworks would begin. But I just shook my head. I had stopped wanting Damon’s fidelity a long time ago. Now, I just wanted a clean slate. 1 Damon raised an eyebrow, the look of surprise quickly fading. “Right. Seven years, I guess you’re past the age of getting hysterical over a few passing interests.” “Let me guess. This is about me missing your prenatal appointment yesterday, isn’t it?” He chuckled softly, reaching to stroke my small bump. “Wife, you’re blaming the wrong man. You won’t believe the firecracker I’ve been dealing with this week. Hot temper, totally fearless. I had flown down to Miami to pick up your custom jewelry, and she started demanding it. Took me the better part of the day to get her back in line.” My lips went white for a fleeting second. Get her back in line? How exactly had he “gotten her back in line”? He’d spent the day passionately rolling around with someone else, yet he was still using me as the cover story. No wonder that jewelry box had contained a damp pair of underwear mixed in with the tissue paper. “It was just a prenatal check-up. You had four nannies and security. What am I supposed to do, join the waiting room with a bouquet? I’m not a prop.” Seeing my expression remain unchanged, he started to speak again, but a flurry of notification sounds interrupted him. He opened the video message. A breathy, coquettish voice drifted from the phone. “Damon, you’re so slow.” “If you don’t hurry up, I’ll get tired of waiting, and then you’ll have to beg me to come back.” Damon subtly glanced at my face, gauging my reaction. This had happened too many times to count. I was far calmer than I had any right to be. I took a deep breath and lifted my hand, stopping him. A relieved smile spread across Damon’s face. “See? My baby still cares.” “Be good. I’ll be back soon. I promise to cook dinner for you and the little one myself tonight.” “Don’t bother. Just sign the divorce papers first.” “After that, we go our separate ways. No one will be around to police your promiscuity anymore.” Damon’s arm froze mid-air. After a long moment, he cupped my face. He finally saw the cold detachment in my eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was unintentionally husky: “Serena, there’s a limit to how far you can take a joke.” When I remained silent, he finally began to flip through the divorce agreement. “No house, no car?” “You’re even waiving the money from the funds I set up for you.” He let out a dry, nervous laugh. “You plan to get divorced and go live in some rundown studio apartment, completely broke?” “Serena, you might be willing to suffer, but is the baby willing to suffer with you?” “I’ve obviously protected you too well. You’re still so adorably naive.” I didn’t reply. I wasn’t taking the house or the cars because I had no intention of staying here. The baby? He didn’t know. That little life had already stopped beating on a cold surgical table. “Given the chronic stress and trauma, the loss was a natural selection,” the doctor had said. At that very moment, Damon had been on fire in bed with a mistress. Damon continued, unaware: “Serena, put everything else aside, are you really going to abandon Grandma?” “She has cancer. How many years does she have left? Do you want her to spend her last days worrying about your messy divorce?” It turned out he didn’t know that either. Grandma had already passed. His phone buzzed relentlessly. His mistress was impatient. He scoffed, signing his name with an irritable flourish. “Serena, I don’t believe you’ll actually divorce me.” “I’ll humor you. Consider this part of a weird role-play.” “But tomorrow, you’ll have to visit Grandma alone.” The door slammed shut. I smoothed the papers he’d ruffled and called Mrs. Maxwell. “He signed the divorce agreement.” “Please expedite my transfer application to the Berlin branch.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388783”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

“Where the hell did the three cents go?” “Oh my God, just let us go home already!” The intern who’d been gaming in the corner suddenly snapped. “I deleted those three cents. I saw the line of numbers was off-kilter, and my OCD kicked in. It was driving me crazy, so I just hit delete.” “And because you were feeling ‘driven crazy,’ twelve of us have pulled three straight all-nighters?” I shot back. “I was just curious!” She batted her huge, innocent eyes. “I heard that in accounting, people freak out more over losing three cents than thirty thousand. I wanted to see if it was true.” “Well, alright, alright, I won’t play anymore!” Skylar announced, reaching into her designer bag, pulling out a dollar bill, and tossing it at my feet. “Here. Take a dollar. Keep the change!” “Seriously, you corporate bootlicker, making us Gen Zers pull all-nighters over three cents? That’s just toxic.” With that, she swung her backpack onto her shoulder and started for the door. “Hold it.” I picked up the dollar bill, my face an expressionless mask as I blocked the doorway and turned the deadbolt. “What do you think you’re doing? Illegal detainment over three cents?” “I don’t need your dollar,” I said calmly. “But the federal penitentiary needs people to sew uniforms.” 1 The belligerence on Skylar’s face faltered slightly, but not by much. “Are you insane? This is a rule-of-law country! I just deleted a number. I didn’t steal anything.” I scoffed. “Oh, you know about the rule of law, do you?” “You call this ‘deleting a number’?” “You maliciously tampered with the company’s accounting records. That’s a five-year felony, minimum. What you deleted was a crucial indexing key that reconciles our entire annual ledger. It caused a catastrophic logical collapse.” I leaned in, my voice low and dangerous. “If the IRS steps in, the company faces massive fines, credit downgrades, and full-scale auditing. This is what we call ‘severe consequences.’” Skylar rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone. She pressed the voice note button, her voice immediately switching to a syrupy, little-girl whimper. “Marcus, honey, come quick! Ms. King won’t let me leave. She’s being so mean and says she’s going to send me to jail. I’m scared!” She tossed the phone onto the desk, crossed her arms, and stared me down. “Now I’m not leaving. I’ll wait for Marcus to show up. Let’s see how you handle him, old woman. Trying to scare me with the law.” I ignored her. I turned to my team, whose faces were a mixture of exhaustion and despair. “Everyone, stop. Save your current data. No one touches a computer until further notice.” A few minutes later, the office door rattled violently. “Open up! What in the hell is going on here, Vivian!” I unlocked the door, and Marcus, our CEO, strode in, immediately tearing into me. “Vivian King! Are you trying to stage a coup?” “Look at this office! It looks like a refugee camp, and you’re holding little Skylar hostage?” He gestured wildly. “We are in the middle of a funding round! What kind of impression do you think this gives the investors? A bunch of women who can’t even clean up after themselves.” Skylar immediately scurried behind Marcus, tugging on the sleeve of his expensive suit jacket. “Marcus, she’s holding me here over a three-cent discrepancy. I told her I’d pay her a dollar, but she won’t let it go.” I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to launch the stack of printouts right into his smug face. I rotated my monitor toward him. The screen displayed the IRS’s automated pre-audit alert. “Marcus, this isn’t minor. She deleted the general ledger index. We cannot generate the annual report. The system has flagged us for suspected income concealment.” My voice was flat, professional. “If we don’t find that three cents tonight, tomorrow’s tax filing will be incorrect. The company faces a full-scale IRS audit, massive fines, even a shutdown. This is criminal.” He was an amateur. He was a ‘soft-money man’ who couldn’t read a balance sheet. But surely, for the sake of his money—his shares, his bonus, his lavish spending—he would finally take this seriously? Marcus didn’t even look at the screen. He impatiently cut me off. “Enough, enough!” “You’re telling me you people needed three days of all-nighters for basic arithmetic? This is a problem with your Finance Department, Vivian!” “I don’t understand your technical jargon, and I don’t want to. I only care about results. If you can’t even handle an Excel spreadsheet, if you can’t tolerate a young intern, and you resort to threatening jail time, your scope is too small, Vivian.” Basic arithmetic? We were dealing with billions in transactions, thousands of complex accounts. In his mouth, it was grade school math. A rush of pure, professional rage flooded my brain. “Marcus, compliance is the baseline. The financial code isn’t something you change because you ‘don’t like the look of it.’ If we can’t guarantee the integrity of the data, what are we even reporting?” Marcus held up a hand to silence me. “Don’t talk to me about technical terms. I don’t listen, and I don’t care.” “I’ll ask you one thing: Can you balance the books?” 2 “Marcus, financial standards are mandated by law. They can’t just be changed at will…” Even Gary, the calmest guy in the room, couldn’t keep quiet. “Shut up!” Marcus roared. “In this company, I am the standard!” He glared at the team. “I think you’re all just faking it to rack up overtime pay.” He accused us of being ‘miserable and lazy.’ A choked sob came from Lisa, our bookkeeper. “Marcus, we haven’t requested a dime of overtime pay for these three nights…” Marcus’s gaze swept over her, and she instantly shut up. “Stop trying to fool me. I hire you to solve problems, not create them.” He checked his Rolex. “You figure out how to balance that ledger by tonight.” “If you can’t handle something this simple, I think the Finance Department needs a complete overhaul. You, Vivian, can go home and play mom. Skylar, you have so many fresh ideas, I think you should get more involved in management.” “Come on, Skylar. Let’s go. Don’t let these people bother you. I’m taking you out for omakase to settle your nerves.” He draped his arm around Skylar’s shoulders and led her toward the door. As they left, Skylar looked back, made a childish, mocking face at me, and was gone. She left a room full of defeated people, surrounded by mountains of crumpled work papers. Lisa stood up, tears streaming down her face. She ripped her badge off her lanyard and slammed it onto the desk. “I quit! I am done with this toxic place!” “We bust our butts, and we get chewed out. That log-wiping idiot gets a fancy dinner?” The others were similarly furious. “Vivian, we should all walk out.” “We can’t stay here.” “This is completely unacceptable!” I looked at the teammates who had stood with me for three years. “If we’re going to walk,” I said, my voice cold and hard, “they need to be crippled first.” “Gary, lock all original receipts and vouchers in the safe. Lisa, every single one of you, log and screenshot every modification you’ve made. Back up everything.” “And Sam, pull the security footage from earlier. The one where Skylar explicitly admits to deleting the key.” The next morning, my desk was gone. I walked into the office. The door was wide open. My belongings—my CPA certificate, my performance trophies, the framed photo of my team and me—were all strewn on the floor, shoved into a cardboard box. Skylar was sitting in my executive chair, spinning slowly. She wasn’t wearing business attire. She was in a tight cashmere sweater, a mini-skirt, and black tights. She was taking selfies and sipping a Starbucks coffee. “Morning, Old Timer,” she greeted me with a smirk. “Marcus said whoever gets here first gets the seat. Director, intern, it’s all equal now. You can take the spot by the front door of the main office. You’ll be convenient for running out and grabbing lunch orders.” Colleagues were pretending to walk past the office, their necks craned, trying to hear what was happening inside. I walked toward her. “This is the Finance Director’s workstation. It contains confidential company files. You do not have the clearance.” Skylar rolled her eyes, placing her coffee directly on top of the financial reports I’d meticulously organized. Condensation immediately ran down the cup, soaking the top page. “Confidential, schmonfidential. It’s just a bunch of stupid invoices, isn’t it?” “It’s all you guys ever do—nagging people about receipts. It’s so annoying!” she exclaimed. “I’m here to eliminate this kind of pointless busywork! No more pointless overtime! No more workplace gaslighting!” I reached out to move her coffee. Skylar screamed and snatched it out of my hand. “Are you trying to throw my coffee? I’m going to tell Marcus you’re bullying me!” Skylar grabbed a stack of original expense vouchers that Lisa had sent over for audit approval yesterday. Riiip! She tore the stack cleanly in half and tossed the pieces into the nearby trash can. “I’m not organizing these! This garbage job is beneath me.” 3 A collective gasp echoed in the hallway. Those papers contained hundreds of thousands of dollars in input tax deductions. They were now useless. I immediately pulled out my phone and started snapping photos of the shredded paper. “What are you photographing, you pervert!” Skylar lunged for my phone, and the coffee in her hand splashed all over my neatly organized reports. “Oops! Butterfingers.” She covered her mouth, her eyes full of malicious glee. I stared at the chaos. “Skylar, this is company property. You are destroying business operations.” Skylar threw back her head and laughed, walking close to my ear. “Why do you work so hard, Vivian?” “This company belongs to Marcus. Why do you even care?” She pulled out her phone and shoved it into my face, recording. “I’m putting this on TikTok right now, so everyone can see your ugly face!” “Hey, fam, look at this! This is the psycho Director who almost killed an intern over three cents! Now she’s trying to hit me! It’s terrifying!” She instantly uploaded the quickly-edited video to the company-wide chat and synced it to TikTok. The video only showed the snippet of me locking the door and glaring at her. The captions were sensational: WARNING! Psycho Finance Director Pushes Intern to Brink Over 3 Cents, Then Throws Her Coffee! #GenZCleanUp: Facing Down the Jealousy of an Old Woman—I Will Not Back Down! The video was sped up and set to a creepy, unsettling background track. The comment section exploded with angry, uniformed strangers. “That woman’s face is so harsh. She’s obviously jealous of how young and pretty the girl is.” “Three cents? Is she going through some kind of menopause meltdown?” “Feel so bad for the intern! Get out of that toxic company!” Later that afternoon, Marcus played the video for the entire executive team during the weekly meeting. He watched it, shaking his head, though a faint smile played on his lips. “Vivian,” he sighed, “I’ve got to be honest with you. Look at how poorly you’re portrayed online.” “We’re going public. Image is everything. Skylar, she’s young, but she’s the ‘catalyst’ this company needs—a fresh fish to stir up the stagnant water.” “You all need to learn from Skylar. Be brave enough to challenge outdated systems. Be vocal.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388799”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel