Category: English

I starved myself on nearly expired bread for a whole month to save money and buy medicine for my “sick” mom. Before I collapsed, I sent her a message: “Mom, I got the medicine. I’m so tired. Going to sleep for a bit.” That sleep became permanent. Only after death did I discover that my entire life had been an all-surveillance “Truman Show.” My billionaire parents sat in their massive control room watching me suffer from stomach cramps. Mom held her wine glass, frowning as she critiqued: “Poor physical constitution. Deduct 10 points.” Dad recorded coldly: “Willpower is acceptable, but doesn’t know how to utilize resources. Deduct 20 points.” They were selecting the sole heir to the family fortune. And I, for “dying too easily,” was judged: Failed. My corpse still lay on the cold floor of my rental apartment, curled in a fetal position. My phone screen glowed with that unread text message. “Mom, I got the medicine. I’m so tired. Going to sleep for a bit.” My soul floated in midair as I stared at that emaciated body. My stomach still twitched faintly—the final memory before starving to death. One month. To scrape together money for that astronomically expensive imported medicine for my mom’s “stomach cancer diagnosis,” I’d cut my only meat dish. I ate only two nearly expired pieces of bread each day. Even my water came from the office cooler. I thought my sacrifice would move heaven itself and bring my mother’s recovery. Instead, I moved myself to death. When I opened my eyes again, I’d been reborn. I floated into an extremely luxurious semicircular hall. Hundreds of high-definition screens covered the walls. The largest one in the center displayed my corpse. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. Two people sat on the leather sofa. The man wore an expensive suit, the woman dripped with jewels. They were my “poverty-stricken,” “terminally ill” parents. At that moment, Mom swirled a glass of blood-red wine in her hand. She looked at my pale face on the screen, her brow deeply furrowed. No tears, no sorrow. Only disgust. “Poor physical constitution. Died after just one month of hunger. [Heir Selection Test – Physical Constitution Dimension] deduct 10 points.” She took a sip of wine, her tone like she was critiquing defective merchandise. Dad held a diamond-encrusted pen, making a mark on a thick evaluation form. “Willpower is acceptable, but doesn’t know how to utilize resources.” “Clearly attractive enough, yet didn’t know to leverage her looks for money. Foolish.” “[Heir Selection Test – Resource Utilization Dimension] deduct 20 points.” I floated above their heads, trembling all over. These were the parents I’d risked my life to save? These were the parents I’d starved for, going without even sanitary pads to support? “Enough, stop watching. Bad luck.” Mom set down her wine glass and pressed the remote. The screen went dark. My corpse disappeared into blackness. “Notify the logistics department to collect the body. Clean it up properly. Don’t let the media find out.” Dad closed the folder and casually tossed it into the trash. “This one’s a write-off. Initiate Plan B.” “Bring Rachel back from abroad. Hopefully she’s smarter than this idiot.” I stared at the folder in the trash. The cover read: “Heir Selection Test: Subject 001—Morgan.” Below it, a red summary line: [Assessment Result: Failed. Total deductions 30 points, zero bonus points. Disposal method: Destroy.]

So I was just a test subject. The star of a reality show called “Heir Selection.” The “destitute home” was a set. The “terminal cancer” was a script. The “devoted relationship” was an act. My twenty years of life had been an absolute joke. A young woman in business attire walked in. It was Natalie, my “distant cousin.” She used to come to my place with such a superior air to “bring warmth,” tossing me a few old clothes. Now she stood respectfully before my parents. “Morgan’s funeral arrangements…” “Don’t mention her again!” Mom cut her off sharply. “A defective product—why bring her up?” “Just find any crematorium, burn her, scatter the ashes in the ocean. Save the space.” Natalie bowed her head. “Yes.” “Oh, that Julian performed well.” Dad suddenly spoke. “He did an excellent job inducing Morgan to save money for medicine. Give him a two hundred thousand dollar bonus.” My eyes flew wide open. Julian. My boyfriend. The man who always held me gently, saying “Morgan, your mother’s illness comes first. We can endure hardship.” The man who watched me eat bread while secretly eating fried chicken in the bathroom. He was an actor too. An “NPC” they’d hired specifically to drain my last drop of blood. “Julian asked if he could participate in Rachel’s test?” Natalie asked carefully. Mom gave a contemptuous laugh. “That kind of pretty boy who only knows how to deceive idiots? Only someone as brainless as Morgan would fall for him.” “Tell him to get lost.” “The White family heir doesn’t need such low-level emotional tests.” I stared at them intently. Hatred surged through my chest like molten lava. Why? Just because you’re rich, you can toy with my life at will? Just because I’m your daughter, I deserve to be your guinea pig for heir selection? I hate them. I hate them so much! If I could do it all again, I would never be that obedient daughter waiting to be slaughtered. I would return every bit of suffering from these twenty years to them—a thousand, ten thousand times over! A violent tearing sensation came from deep within my soul. Everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I heard familiar coughing. “Cough, cough… Morgan, my stomach condition seems to be getting worse…”

Moldy peeling walls, dim lighting. The air reeked of cheap ointment and old wood. I sat at the paint-chipped wooden table. Half a piece of cold, hard bread sat before me. My phone vibrated. A message from Julian. “Morgan, I heard from the doctor that if your mom doesn’t get that imported medicine, she probably won’t make it past next month.” “I know that medicine is expensive—fifty thousand dollars.” “We’ll save together. I’ll quit smoking, you skip a few lunches. We can scrape it together.” Looking at these familiar words. I laughed. Laughed until tears streamed down my face. I’m back. I’m really back. Back to the day I decided to begin my “hellish economizing.” In my previous life, this message became my death warrant. I looked at that half piece of bread, nausea churning in my stomach. Not from hunger. From disgust. I grabbed the bread and hurled it into the trash. “Morgan? What’s wrong?” From the shabby bedroom came that woman’s weak voice. That was my “good mother,” Betty. The chairwoman of White Group. Right now she was lying on that creaking wooden plank bed, playing the role of a dying peasant woman. I stood up and walked to the door. Through the crack, I saw her quickly stuffing something into her mouth when she thought I wasn’t looking. A piece of imported chocolate. When she noticed me coming in, she moved lightning-fast to shove the chocolate under her pillow. Then switched to an expression of agony. “Morgan, I’m fine… just hurts terribly…” “Don’t worry about me. Better if I just die, stop being a burden to you…” Such great acting. You deserve an Oscar. In my previous life, seeing this scene broke my heart. I would kneel by the bed, crying and swearing to save her, then immediately go sell my blood. But now I leaned against the doorframe, watching her performance with zero expression. “Mom, if it hurts that much, don’t hold it in.” Betty froze. Seemingly unprepared for my calm reaction. “Morgan, the medicine is too expensive… we can’t afford it…” “Can’t afford it?” I curved my lips, my eyes ice-cold. “If we can’t afford medicine, we’ll find another way.” “Mom, didn’t you always teach me that people need to know how to utilize resources?” A flash of confusion crossed Betty’s eyes. This was her critique as an “examiner”—something I shouldn’t know about. But I didn’t give her time to think. “If you’re going to die anyway, why care about dignity?” “Mom, just wait.” “I’m going to get you money.” I turned and left. Behind me came Betty’s slightly panicked voice: “Morgan, where are you going? Don’t do anything rash!” Anything rash? Ridiculous. I just wanted to make this “Truman Show” a bit more exciting.

I walked out of that suffocating rental apartment. The sunlight outside stung my eyes. I felt my pockets. Fifteen dollars total. That was everything I owned. In my previous life, I used those fifteen dollars to buy ten pieces of bread that lasted me a week. This life, I walked straight into a lottery shop. Not to buy lottery tickets, but to borrow a charging cable and mooch some WiFi. I opened my phone and downloaded a streaming app. Registered an account. Name: [Terminal Mother and Devoted Daughter’s Final 30 Days]. The description dripped with pathos: “Destitute home, mother with terminal stomach cancer, no money for medicine.” “To save my mother, I’ll do whatever it takes.” “Please follow and witness a life’s miracle.” I knew my phone was monitored. My every move transmitted in real-time to that massive control room. Right now, my billionaire parents were probably frowning at their screens. “What’s she trying to do?” “Online begging? Too lowbrow. [Heir Selection Test – Strategic Sophistication Dimension] deduct 5 points.” The clear commentary from my previous life floating in the control room hadn’t disappeared with my rebirth. I turned on the camera, pointing it at my face—pale and gaunt from chronic malnutrition. I had to admit, this pitiful appearance was natural clickbait. I didn’t speak. Just quietly let tears fall. Tears dropped one by one onto the screen. That sense of despair, helplessness, brokenness—I portrayed it vividly. After all, I was someone who’d truly died once. This despair didn’t need acting. Soon, viewers entered the stream. “Poor girl.” “Oh my god, that complexion. She’s clearly been starving for a long time.” “Terminal stomach cancer? Real or fake?” “Probably a scammer.” Doubts followed quickly. I wiped my tears, my voice hoarse. “I know everyone doesn’t believe me.” “That’s okay.” “I’ll take you to see my mother right now.” “See where we live, see her writhing in pain on the bed.” “If I’m lying about anything, may I get hit by a car when I leave.” I held up my phone and walked back step by step. Passing a barbecue restaurant. That tempting aroma drilled into my nostrils. I stopped, my throat moving. The viewer count began to skyrocket. “She wants to eat.” “She must be starving.” “Send her money! Let her eat!” Someone sent a gift. I watched the special effects, the corner of my mouth curving imperceptibly. Facing the camera, I shook my head. “No, I can’t eat.” “This money is to save my mother’s life.” “I can still endure.” With that, I resolutely turned and walked away. My retreating figure looked determined yet desolate. The stream exploded. “This is torture!” “That willpower!” “Following! We have to help her!” In the control room. Dad’s pen paused. “Using online public opinion to gain sympathy?” “The method is lowbrow, but the effect is decent.” “This maneuver, [Heir Selection Test – Resource Acquisition Efficiency Dimension] barely earns 5 points.” Bonus points? Dad, you’re too naive. I’m not seeking sympathy. I’m putting you in an impossible position. Back at the rental. I violently pushed open the door. Shoved the camera right into Betty’s face. She was sitting cross-legged, holding that half-eaten chocolate. Seeing me enter with my phone, she froze completely. “Mom!” I let out a piercing wail and rushed over. “Are you delirious from hunger?” “That’s trash you picked up—you can’t eat that!” I snatched the chocolate from her hand and threw it hard on the floor. Then embraced her, sobbing hysterically. “It’s all my fault for being useless! Making you so hungry you’re eating garbage!” “Mom! I’ve failed you!” Betty was stunned. She looked at the imported chocolate on the floor, then at my streaming phone. Her expression instantly became uglier than if she’d eaten excrement. The stream erupted. “What’s that black thing?” “Looks like chocolate?” “Picked from trash? That’s horrible!” “Her mom’s so hungry she’s lost her mind!” “Send money fast! Don’t let them starve to death!” Gift effects filled the screen. I buried myself in Betty’s arms, my whole body shaking with sobs. Only I knew I was actually laughing. Mom, how did that “garbage” imported chocolate taste? Are you satisfied?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “366531”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

My husband, Derek Whitmore, was working late when I received a notification about my hotel membership tier upgrade. “Thank you for your 99th purchase of a couple’s room. Your membership has been upgraded to Black Gold status.” “Additionally, you have been gifted one complimentary night in our Presidential Suite, valued at $8,000.” I sat in the room for a long moment before calling him. “You’ve been using my card to book hotel rooms, haven’t you?” On the other end of the line, I heard the sound of running water from a shower. “Yeah, I’ve been working late today. I’m not coming home—just staying at a hotel near the office.” I hung up and scrolled through the booking history on that card with trembling hands. Every single reservation was for various themed couple’s rooms. There was a Bunny Cave room, a room with an adult swing set. Soon after, Derek sent me a text: “I’ve been working a lot of overtime lately. I’ll make it up to you when I get home, you little temptress.” I replied: “When you get back, we’re getting divorced.”

“Lynn Smith, what’s that supposed to mean?” Derek was silent for a long while before responding. Then came a barrage of messages. “You’re still pregnant. Don’t get upset. I know I’ve been working too much overtime lately—that’s on me. Once this busy period is over, I’ll spend quality time with you. How about we go on a trip?” “If you don’t like me staying in these kinds of rooms, I can just crash at an internet cafe for the night. It’s the same thing. Lynn, please don’t scare me with messages like that, okay?” I gripped my phone tightly and closed my eyes. Then I replied: “No need, Derek. You don’t have to say any of this. We’re definitely getting divorced.” He quickly sent a voice message: “Honey, are you under too much stress from the pregnancy? I know you used to be childfree, and deciding to have a baby for me took a lot of courage…” Before I could finish listening to the voice message, a video call came through. After I hung up on him several times, Derek finally lost control, his tone tinged with anger. “Lynn! Even if I’ve been working overtime and neglecting your feelings, that’s no reason to talk about divorce!” “We’ve been together for years! If you have issues with me, you can tell me. We can talk it through. Why would you hurt me like this?” “Please, just answer my call, okay?” I looked at his words and couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. I slowly typed out a few words. “No reason?” “There’s plenty of reason, Derek.” After seeing those words, Derek’s next voice message had a colder tone. “I’m doing all of this for you and the baby so we can have a better life. Do you really have to pick a fight with me?” “Don’t bother. I don’t care. Neither does the baby.” While talking to him, I had already logged into his shopping account. Sure enough, there were many gifts that didn’t belong to me. From designer handbags, jewelry, and skincare products to more discreet adult items. He’d even used a secondary account to buy these things, afraid I’d catch him. I took a deep breath, forcing down my trembling. Part of me wanted to scream and fight, but when I thought about it, there really was no point. For two people to reach this ending—it was enough. We were adults now. Hysteria would be too ugly. I absently touched my belly, feeling sorry for this child. My phone kept buzzing, but Derek didn’t come home all night. The next day, as soon as I arrived at the office, I saw Derek in the reception room at the front desk. When he saw my red, swollen eyes, he froze, then showed obvious heartache. He walked over quickly, took my hand, his voice hoarse and reeking of cigarettes. “Lynn, what’s going on?” It was clear he’d been smoking all night. But I knew his night had probably been quite exciting and stimulating. After all, it was a couple’s suite—over eight hundred dollars a night. I calmly pulled my hand away and turned to leave. Derek quickly blocked my path. “You can’t just refuse to communicate, Lynn. I’m begging you—I didn’t sleep all night.” Since he insisted on discussing our private matters at my workplace, I looked him straight in the eye and spoke concisely. “We’re getting divorced. Which part don’t you understand?”

At the same time, our argument drew subtle glances from my coworkers. “Isn’t that the guy grabbing Lynn… a senior executive from Vanstar next door? I think he’s even a director.” “Yeah, I saw him when I was negotiating a contract. Super handsome—really memorable. What did he just say? Divorce?” “Lynn’s been married for years, right? I had no idea her husband was him. Why would she divorce such a handsome husband?” Hearing the whispers around us, Derek stepped closer and spoke in a low voice. “Even if we’re getting divorced, you at least owe me a reason.” I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, my expression was calm. “We don’t have feelings for each other anymore. Isn’t that enough?” Derek froze, his eyes immediately reddening, completely unable to accept it. “Lynn, you can fool other people with that line, but can you really fool yourself?” “I just worked late on a project and found a place nearby to rest. Why are you doing this?” “If it bothers you, I can adjust my work schedule going forward. Everything will revolve around you—I’m willing to do anything.” He looked at me with such deep affection, creating the illusion that he loved me so much and I was the unreasonable one. I stared at his face, remembering countless moments between us. The person I loved seemed rotten from the bones out. After he said this, my coworkers looked at me differently, thinking I was being harsh. It seemed no one understood why I would give up such a handsome husband just because he didn’t come home one night. But I really didn’t want to explain. Just then, another woman walked through the company’s front door. She wore a sharp business suit that accentuated her curvy figure. It was my best friend, Rachel Brown. She rushed in anxiously, and when she saw me, her face filled with concern as she hurried over. “Lynn, what’s going on?” She and Derek exchanged a glance, then both looked at me with concern. Seeing that I wasn’t responding, Rachel pulled me aside. “If you’re feeling wronged, just tell me. I’ll help you deal with him!” “But isn’t divorce over working late a bit hasty? Lynn, I was unemployed before, and you were the one who recommended me to Derek’s company.” “I promised I’d help you keep an eye on him, and I’ve kept my word. He’s never done anything to betray you—I can vouch for that!” Derek also looked at me, his eyes full of hurt and disappointment at being doubted. Listening to Rachel’s endless chatter and looking at Derek, I felt nothing but mockery in my heart. “No need. I just don’t want to live with him anymore. There’s no other reason.” I cut off Rachel’s words, not wanting to spare another glance at either of them, and turned to leave. Seeing that there would be no resolution through discussion, Derek simply followed me and suddenly dropped to his knees. “Lynn! Even if you’re in a rush to divorce me to get the family assets to buy your brother a house, you could at least discuss it with me!” “I’m willing to help pay for Carter’s college and his future housing—just please don’t divorce me, okay?” His words caused an uproar, and the gossip spread like wildfire. “What’s going on? Is Lynn a brother-obsessed woman? I never noticed.” “Who knows? These types are the hardest to spot.” “Her husband has already said this much—if she still wants a divorce, she’s really terrible!” I was completely stunned and turned back to meet his eyes in shock. “…What did you just say?!”

As the surrounding chatter intensified, I shouted out loud in anger. “Derek! What does my divorce from you have to do with my brother? I never wanted a cent of your money!” “After all these years together, is this how you see me? What do you take me for?!” But Derek just looked at me with tears in his eyes, as if in extreme pain. “…Then what’s your reason? Lynn, I can’t accept that it’s because you don’t love me!” Seeing that my earlier words hadn’t won over my coworkers and instead made them look at me with even more contempt, I just wanted to end this farce as quickly as possible. “Get up now! Haven’t you embarrassed me enough at my workplace?! I don’t want this to get any uglier! Get up!” But my inability to provide any other legitimate reason only made people more suspicious. As if I was divorcing him purely for money. I didn’t bother explaining further and just tried to make him leave. “Leave my office immediately! I have work to do! Can you please stop causing me trouble?!” Derek, being pushed away by me, let his tears fall. Then, looking utterly pitiful, he pulled out a bank card and choked out: “Lynn, I’m giving you all my money! All of it, okay? I’m begging you, don’t divorce me…” I took the bank card and threw it right out the front door, shouting angrily. “Get out! I don’t want it!” Rachel seemed to have never seen me this angry in all these years. She stammered before speaking. “Lynn…” I was so angry that the veins on my forehead were throbbing. I pointed toward the door, suppressing my rage. “Rachel, if you still consider me a friend, take him away right now! Isn’t this embarrassing enough?!” After Rachel led the dejected Derek away, the entire office lobby fell silent. I pressed my throbbing temples, feeling utterly exhausted. Although my coworkers returned to their desks, their eyes still occasionally fell on me. Not long after I sat back down, my manager came over. “I heard about what happened at the front desk today. Lynn, I’ve always trusted your work over the years. Why did you bring your personal problems here this time?” I knew he was both reminding me and unable to resist gossiping. “It’s nothing—just an argument. I’m sorry, Mr. Lee. This won’t happen again.” I responded flatly and returned to my desk, but my work was affected all afternoon, leaving me somewhat distracted. When I finished work and headed home with the divorce papers I’d printed at the office, ready to wait for Derek to sign them, Derek still hadn’t returned. Just as I was about to go to his office, Rachel called. Her voice was urgent and anxious. “Lynn, where are you?! Get to the rooftop of Derek’s office building now—something’s wrong!” I frowned, about to ask what happened. The next moment, her words hit me like a thunderbolt. “Derek can’t accept divorcing you and went up to the company rooftop! I’m afraid he might do something drastic—I’m trying to talk him down!” “What?!” I nearly choked and immediately drove to the Vanstar building. By now, the building was surrounded by layers of onlookers. The fire department was there. The police were there. And Derek’s mother, the moment she saw me, slapped me across the face, crying and cursing. “This is all because of you! Lynn, if anything happens to my son, I’ll never forgive you!” My head snapped to the side from the blow, and I looked up to see Derek on the rooftop. Derek’s father was also cursing nearby. “How could my son marry such a heartless woman?! How could you treat him like this?!” At the same time, my parents and brother arrived after being notified by the police. When my mom saw the handprint on my face, she became furious and confronted Derek’s mother. “I’ve never laid a hand on my daughter, not once in her entire life! What gives you the right?!” My dad and my brother, who had just finished his college entrance exams, stood protectively in front of me. “Lynn…” My brother looked at me with concern, worried there might be more to the story. I shook my head, holding back tears. “Mom! Don’t hit Lynn! I’m only doing this because I want to know the reason!” Derek, seeing me get slapped, quickly tried to stop his mother. I looked up at him and spoke into the megaphone. “Derek, I’m here now. Come down.” Derek’s face lit up with joy. The next moment, I spoke directly. “Come down and sign the divorce papers. We’re getting divorced.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “366532”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

I was Preston Kingsley’s caged mistress, a tool he used to humiliate his ex. For his first love, Vivienne, he cut off my father’s ICU funding and forced me to kneel in the snow, searching for a ring that never existed. Later, I became exactly what he wanted. Docile. Obedient. Silent. Even when I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, I never said a word. I simply signed the divorce papers and vanished from his world. Preston searched the globe like a madman, only to find a box of ashes. They say that day, New York’s most distinguished man cried like a dog who’d lost its home. Lynn’s POV The smell of disinfectant was sharp in my nose. The doctor stared at the report in his hands, his brow furrowed. He looked up at me. “Didn’t your family come with you?” My fingers tightened on the hem of my shirt. “He’s busy. I can handle it myself.” The doctor sighed and handed me the paper. “You’re six weeks pregnant, but your uterine wall is very thin. Combined with your chronic malnutrition, this pregnancy… will be difficult to maintain. If you insist on keeping it, there’s a risk of severe hemorrhaging.” My mind went blank. Pregnant? At this moment, when my relationship with Preston had hit rock bottom. My phone screen lit up with a push notification. A news headline. The photo showed Preston at the airport. Even in a candid shot, the man looked refined and aloof, his black trench coat accentuating his tall frame. And in his arms was a petite woman. Vivienne was back. The woman Preston couldn’t forget. The woman whose single sentence, “I don’t like other women around you,” had subjected me to three years of cold violence.. The headline was painfully blunt: “Preston Kingsley’s Late-Night Airport Pickup, Old Flames Rekindled? Sweet, Loving Gaze.” I turned off my phone, my fingertips trembling with cold. “Doctor, this baby… let me think about it.” When I walked out of the hospital, New York’s first snow of winter was falling. The wind cut across my face like knives. I pulled my thin coat tighter, but it couldn’t block the cold seeping into my bones. When I reached the house, I saw that familiar Maybach parked in the driveway. Preston was home. I pushed open the door. The warmth inside hit my face, mixed with an unfamiliar perfume. Sweet. A cloying floral-fruit scent. Vivienne’s favorite. Preston sat on the sofa, legs crossed, fingers holding an unlit cigarette, his expression dark and unreadable. Hearing me enter, he lifted his eyelids and gave me a cold glance. “Where were you?” His voice was low, carrying an oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe. I paused while changing my shoes, instinctively tucking the ultrasound report deeper into my bag. “I wasn’t feeling well. Went to the pharmacy.” “Not feeling well?” Preston laughed coldly and stood, walking toward me. He looked down at me, his long fingers gripping my chin with bruising force. “Lynn, did you go to the pharmacy, or did you go tip off that deadbeat father of yours?” My heart lurched. I jerked my head up to look at him. “What do you mean?” “What do I mean?” Preston released my face and grabbed a document from the coffee table, throwing it at me. The sharp edge of the paper sliced across my cheek, leaving a red mark. “After your father went bankrupt, his mess got worse. He owes another three hundred thousand in loan shark debts. The creditors came to me, saying they’re looking for Mrs. Kingsley’s father, and I should pay up.” Preston’s eyes were full of disgust and mockery. “Lynn, how many holes have I filled for your family these three years? Do you think I’m an idiot, or do you think…” He paused, his tone turning crueler. “Do you think your broken body is worth that price?”

Lynn’s POV That ultrasound report ended up crumpled in my bag. Three hundred thousand. To Preston, that was barely the cost of a watch-not even enough for one of Vivienne’s handbags. But for my family now, it was the final straw. My father was still lying in the ICU, medical bills draining away like water every day. If those loan sharks didn’t get their money, they’d really pull his oxygen tube. I took a deep breath, forcing down the stinging in my eyes, and bent to pick up the documents from the floor. “I’m sorry. I’ll figure something out.” “Figure something out?” Preston sounded like he’d heard a joke. He moved closer, step by step, until he’d backed me against the wall. “Where will you figure it out? Sell yourself? Or go beg that useless ex of yours?” At the mention of Simon, my heart clenched painfully. He was a thorn in Preston’s mind and his excuse to torment me. The truth was, Simon and I had no relationship. We’d simply talked a bit more than usual at a class reunion, and Preston had held it against me ever since. “I didn’t…” I tried weakly to defend myself. But Preston didn’t want to hear it. He reached up to loosen his tie, his eyes cold and predatory. “Since you need to pay back money, show some sincerity.” “Please me. Until I’m satisfied.” That night, Preston was like a man possessed. No foreplay, no tenderness-only endless venting and punishment. I bit my lip hard, refusing to make a sound, even as the pain made my whole body tremble. Because I knew. If I cried out in pain or resisted, it would only make his treatment more brutal. And there was my father’s ventilator, which could be shut off at any moment. When it was over, he stood by the window in a bathrobe, smoking. Through the curling smoke, his silhouette looked especially cold. I curled up under the covers, sharp pains radiating from my lower abdomen, making my heart race with fear. The baby… “Tomorrow night there’s a charity gala. You’re coming with me.” Preston suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse. I froze. Since our marriage, he’d never taken me to any public event. In his circle, everyone knew he’d married a fallen heiress-a doormat who’d endure anything for money. Taking me out would only embarrass him. “What? Don’t want to go?” Seeing my silence, Preston turned around, his brow furrowing. “No, it’s not that…” My throat was painfully hoarse. “I’ll go.” Preston nodded with satisfaction and stubbed out his cigarette. “Vivienne will be there tomorrow too. She just got back to the country and needs an assistant. Since you’re free anyway, go help her out.” So that was it. He wasn’t taking me to see the world, nor was he acknowledging my identity. It was just that his mistress needed a servant. And I, the nominal Mrs. Kingsley, was the cheapest, most convenient option. “Okay.” I heard my own calm voice. Really, as long as he paid, as long as I could save my father, I’d do anything. Even if it meant carving out my heart to pave the way for these two lovers.

Lynn’s POV The gala was held at New York’s largest hotel. I wore a last-season dress Preston had carelessly thrown at me, following three steps behind him. Like a shadow that couldn’t see the light. Vivienne wore a custom white mermaid gown, looking like a noble princess surrounded by admirers. When she saw Preston, her eyes lit up. She lifted her skirt and ran over, naturally linking her arm through his. “Preston, you’re finally here. I’ve been waiting forever.” Preston’s usually hard features softened the moment he saw her. “Traffic.” He lied. We’d arrived early. He’d just sat in the car smoking two cigarettes before leisurely coming up. Vivienne smiled sweetly, her gaze sweeping around before she seemed to notice me for the first time, covering her mouth in surprise. “Oh my, Ms. Lynn is here too? This dress… isn’t this from two years ago? Preston, really, you should have gotten her something new.” Her words sounded reproachful, but her eyes were full of smugness and contempt. People around us cast meaningful glances. Some mocking, some pitying, most just watching the show. Preston gave me a brief glance, his tone casual. “She doesn’t like being extravagant. Old clothes work fine.” I lowered my eyes, my nails digging into my palms. Doesn’t like being extravagant? Before the Lynn family went bankrupt, I only wore haute couture. Who was it that broke my wings and ground me into the dirt, only to turn around and despise me for being covered in mud? “Vivienne, didn’t you say you wanted champagne?” Preston turned to look at Vivienne, his tone gentle. Vivienne pouted playfully. “But the champagne here isn’t cold enough. I want the kind with hand-carved ice balls, and only seven-tenths full.” Preston nodded, then turned his gaze to me, instantly freezing over. “You heard that? Go do it.” I stood there, surrounded by stares that felt like needles piercing my skin. I was Mrs. Kingsley, yet at this event, I was being treated like a server, fetching drinks for the other woman. “What? Don’t want to?” Preston raised an eyebrow, lowering his voice. “That three hundred thousand…” “I’ll go.” I cut him off and turned toward the bar. In that moment, I felt every shred of my dignity being crushed. The ice was hard, the carving pick slippery. My hands were shaking, and the dropping sensation in my abdomen grew stronger. The sharp ice pick slipped and stabbed hard into my left index finger. Blood immediately gushed out. I frantically looked for tissues to stop the bleeding. Behind me came Vivienne’s sweet voice. “Oh my, Ms. Lynn, how careless can you be? You got blood on the ice-how can anyone drink this now?” Preston walked over. Seeing my bleeding finger, he frowned deeply. But his first words weren’t concern. They were blame. “Can’t even handle something this simple. Clumsy idiot. Stop embarrassing yourself here.” He took Vivienne’s hand. “Come on, I’ll take you upstairs for better drinks.” The two walked away arm in arm, leaving me alone by the bar, my blood dripping onto the floor. Just like my heart, riddled with holes.

Lynn’s POV While I was rinsing my wound in the restroom, the hospital called. “Ms. Lynn, your father’s condition has worsened. He needs surgery immediately. If you don’t pay the full amount, we can’t proceed…” The doctor’s voice on the other end was full of helplessness. “How much?” My voice trembled. “Including what you owe plus this surgery, at least five hundred thousand. It must be paid by midnight tonight.” After hanging up, I looked at my ghost-pale face in the mirror. Five hundred thousand. For me now, it was an astronomical sum. Preston had frozen all my cards. I’d already sold all my jewelry. The only option left was to beg him. I left the restroom and stumbled toward the second-floor private room. The door was slightly ajar, laughter spilling out from inside. “Preston, this necklace is beautiful. I love it.” Vivienne’s voice was soft and sweet. “If you like it, keep it. I bought it at auction for you anyway.” Preston’s voice carried a smile. Through the gap in the door, I saw Preston fastening an expensive necklace around Vivienne’s neck. That necklace… My whole body went rigid. That was my mother’s heirloom! When the Lynn family went bankrupt, all our assets were auctioned off, including this necklace. I’d begged Preston for so long to buy it back for me, to keep as a memento. What had he said then? “A broken piece of junk, and you beg me for that?” Now he’d bought it and put it on another woman. Rage, despair, grief all twisted together until I could barely breathe. But I couldn’t lash out. My father was waiting for money to save his life. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The laughter inside stopped abruptly. Everyone looked at me. The smile vanished from Preston’s face, replaced by darkness. “Who told you to come in?” I ignored the stares and walked straight to Preston, dropping to my knees. My knees hit the floor with a dull thud. Preston froze. Vivienne gasped and shrank into his arms. “Lynn, what the hell are you doing?” Preston spoke through clenched teeth, clearly feeling I’d embarrassed him. I looked up at him. “Preston, please. Lend me five hundred thousand. My father needs surgery. He desperately needs this money.” “Lend?” Preston laughed coldly, swirling the wine glass in his hand. “What will you use to pay me back? Your bankrupt family, or your broken body?” “As long as you give me the money, I’ll do anything.” Preston stared at me. Vivienne suddenly spoke up beside him. “Preston, Ms. Lynn is pretty pitiful. Why don’t you help her out?” She sounded kind, but then her tone shifted. “But since Ms. Lynn is so filial, you must be able to hold your liquor, right? If you can finish all the alcohol on this table, I’ll have Preston give you the money. How’s that?” On the table sat more than a dozen bottles of hard liquor. Vodka, whiskey, brandy, all mixed together. Forget a pregnant woman. Even a healthy person would need a stomach pump after drinking that much. She wanted me dead. I looked at Preston, hoping for even a trace of mercy. But he simply glanced at the bottles on the table and said one word. “Drink.” My heart died completely. I picked up a bottle of vodka and tilted my head back, pouring it down. The burning liquid flowed down my throat into my stomach, scorching like fire. One bottle, two bottles… My vision began to blur. My stomach churned violently. The dropping pain in my abdomen became excruciating. Something warm trickled down my thighs.

Lynn’s POV “Enough!” Just as I reached for the fifth bottle, Preston suddenly knocked it out of my hand. Glass shattered across the floor, alcohol splashing onto my dress. His face was livid as he stared at my pale face, his voice filled with suppressed rage. “Lynn, are you dead inside? Don’t you know when to stop?” I swayed, seeing only doubles, barely managing an uglier-than-crying smile. “Mr. Kingsley… I haven’t finished yet… the money…” “Transfer the money to her!” Preston shouted at his assistant, then grabbed me up from the floor. “Now. Immediately. Get out of my sight!” I got the money. I’d traded my dignity and the unformed life in my womb for it. I refused the assistant’s offer to take me to the hospital. Using my last bit of consciousness, I transferred the money to the hospital. Then, in the snow by the roadside, I finally couldn’t hold on anymore and collapsed. When I woke again, I was in a hospital room. No Preston. Only the doctor who’d examined me before. He looked at me with complicated eyes. “You lost the baby.” Though I’d expected this outcome, hearing it aloud still felt like my heart had been hollowed out. “You were brought in hemorrhaging. Fortunately a passerby called 911 in time, or you’d have lost your life too.” The doctor sighed. “Your body is extremely weak now. In the future… it will be very difficult for you to conceive again.” I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Very difficult to conceive again. This meant the only bond between Preston and me was also severed. Good. Really good. I stayed in the hospital for three days. During those three days, Preston never came once. He didn’t even call. But Vivienne sent me a photo. In it, Preston was in the kitchen making porridge, his profile gentle and focused. The caption read: “My stomach’s bothering me. Preston specially made me oatmeal porridge. So warm.” I looked at that photo with a heart like still water. Once, I’d had stomach pain too. Preston had just coldly tossed me a box of medicine and said: “Stop being dramatic. Take your pills and go to sleep. Don’t bother me.” So he wasn’t incapable of caring for someone. He just didn’t want to care for me. I closed my phone and pulled out the IV needle. I handled my own discharge paperwork. When I returned to that so-called “home,” Preston wasn’t back yet. I walked into the bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and started packing. I didn’t have much. Besides a few changes of clothes, there was only one photo of him and me together. Our wedding photo. In it, my smile was stiff. He looked completely indifferent. I tore the photo into pieces and threw it in the trash. Then I sat at the desk and pulled out the divorce agreement I’d prepared long ago. The moment I signed my name, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief. The sound of the door lock turning came from outside. Preston was home. He brought the cold with him. Seeing the suitcase in the living room, he paused. “Are you going on a business trip?” His tone was casual, as if the humiliation and hurt from days ago had never happened. I turned to look at him. “Preston, let’s get divorced.” Preston froze for a moment, then laughed as if he’d heard a joke. “Lynn, is this your new game?” He walked over, casually tossing his car keys on the coffee table and unbuttoning his coat. “Stop messing around. I’m tired. Vivienne wasn’t feeling well-I stayed at the hospital with her for three days. Go run me a bath.” While I was in the hospital hemorrhaging from a miscarriage, he was keeping another woman company. How ironic. I didn’t move. I just pushed the divorce agreement in front of him. “I’m not messing around. I’ve already signed it. Look it over and see if there are any issues. If you think the asset division is unfair, I can leave with nothing.” Preston finally sensed something was wrong. He stared at me for a while, then his gaze fell on the agreement. His expression darkened instantly. “Lynn, you’re serious?” “Yes.” “Why?” “I’m tired of it.” I used the same words he’d once used to humiliate me, throwing them back at him. “Preston, these three years have exhausted me. I don’t want to serve you anymore. Don’t you love Vivienne? I’m setting you free.” “Setting me free?” Preston suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like he’d crush my bones. “Lynn, what right do you have to talk about setting me free? Don’t forget-your father is still alive on my money! If we divorce, what will you use to save him?” I looked at his furious face, my heart completely calm. “I’ll pay back that five hundred thousand slowly. As for the future, I won’t trouble Mr. Kingsley anymore.” My father’s surgery had been successful. The doctor said with proper rest, he’d recover. I’d already sold the family’s old house. Though the price was depressed, it was enough to repay Preston and cover future medical expenses. “Fine!” Preston laughed bitterly and released me with a shove. “Lynn, this is your choice! Once you walk out that door, don’t come crawling back on your knees!” “I won’t.” I picked up my suitcase and looked at him one last time. This glance held no attachment. Only farewell. “Preston, goodbye. Or rather, may we never meet again.” I turned toward the door. Behind me came the sound of a vase shattering and Preston’s furious roar. “Get out! Everyone get out!” I didn’t look back. I opened the door. Outside, the snow had stopped. Though it was still cold, I could see the long-absent sunlight. Finally, I was free.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “366533”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

In the fifth year of my marriage to Hudson Hope, I was still commuting two hours to save a few dollars. Until the day I transferred to Mary Hospital in New York, I received a VIP patient, the wife of billionaire heir Hudson. The nurse smiled and showed me their wedding photo. “Mr. Hope is famous for doting on his wife.” I gripped my stethoscope, my knuckles turning white. That woman had personally slashed my right hand three years ago. And that man was supposed to be my husband. I stared at the woman’s pregnant belly. Just then, Hudson’s call came through on speakerphone, his voice filled with a tenderness he’d never shown me. “Cecilia, I bought you a mansion to make it up to you.” It turned out I was the other woman all along. Sylvia’s POV In the fifth year of my marriage to Hudson, I was still pinching pennies, saving every cent. On my first day at the new hospital, I was assigned a VIP patient. The nurse said it was the wife of Hudson Hope, the richest man in the city. Hudson Hope? That was my husband’s name. After transferring to New York, my very first patient was Cecilia, who’d been entangled with my husband for five years. I double-checked the medical records, even questioning the intake nurse. “Are you sure there’s no mistake? The patient’s name is Cecilia, and her husband is Hudson?” The nurse laughed. “Dr. Winters, I could mix up anyone but not Mr. Hope. He’s the billionaire heir of New York, famous for how much he spoils his wife. To make sure she has a safe delivery, he specifically reserved our hospital’s best VIP suite for her.” The nurse pulled up photos of Hudson and Cecilia’s wedding on her phone to show me. The cruel truth was right there in front of me. I felt like I’d been plunged into ice water. Another doctor said enviously, “Dr. Winters, you’re new to New York so you don’t know. Mr. Hope and Miss Cecilia have broken up and gotten back together countless times over these five years. It’s more dramatic than a TV show! In the end, Mr. Hope swallowed his pride and chased her for ages before they finally got their happy ending!” My ears were buzzing. The nurse gently nudged me. “What’s wrong? Do you know Mr. Hope and Miss Cecilia?” I snapped back to reality, forcibly suppressing the tidal wave of emotions in my chest. Know them? I knew them all too well. The name Cecilia was like a poisoned needle, stabbing straight into my heart. Five years ago at my wedding with Hudson, Cecilia had stormed the stage like a madwoman, screaming that Hudson was hers. Four years ago, I got anonymous photos of Cecilia standing naked in front of Hudson. Hudson had immediately called the police, saying she was harassing him. And three years ago… I unconsciously touched the hideous, ugly scar on my right arm. That day, Cecilia had rushed into the hospital where I worked with a knife and, in front of everyone, slashed at my right hand like a maniac. She screamed at the top of her lungs. “That’s what you get for stealing my Hudson! I’ll ruin your hand so you can never be a doctor and seduce him again!” The top hospital had used all their best resources and barely managed to save my arm. But this scar would remain on my skin forever. At the time, Hudson had roared that he would kill Cecilia. I’d desperately held him back to prevent him from making a terrible mistake. Later, Hudson said he’d sent Cecilia to a psychiatric hospital. He would torment her daily, make her wish she were dead, make her spend the rest of her life atoning for what she did to my hand. But now, Cecilia was sitting there perfectly fine, and she’d become Hudson’s wife in New York, pregnant with his child. I closed my eyes. Absurd. It was too absurd. My husband of five years, who made twenty thousand dollars a month, was actually New York’s wealthiest man-and someone else’s husband. I forced myself to look at Cecilia in the hospital room, dressed head to toe in designer clothes, clutching her belly with a blissful expression on her face. Then I looked down at my own cheap clothes worth only a few dozen dollars that I wore to save money. I felt like a complete and utter fool. For five years, I’d thought I was happy enough. My husband was considerate and gentle. Apart from him working in New York and us being apart often, our marriage had virtually no conflicts. Last month, to have a baby soon and to surprise Hudson, I’d quietly submitted my application to transfer to Mary Hospital in New York as an obstetrician. I never imagined that on my first day, fate would play such a cruel joke on me.

Sylvia’s POV I put on my mask, struggling to maintain my professional composure. Walking into the room, I gently placed my stethoscope on Cecilia’s swollen belly. The fetal heartbeat was clear and strong, each beat like a hammer pounding on my heart. Cecilia unconsciously stroked the enormous pink diamond ring on her ring finger. I recognized it. The news had once reported that this pink diamond was the finale piece at an auction, purchased by a certain tycoon at an astronomical price. At the time, I didn’t know the “Mr. Hope” in the news was my husband. I’d even joked with him about it. “Other people’s Mr. Hope can spend astronomical sums with a wave of his hand. Too bad my Mr. Hope is just an ordinary office worker. What he earns isn’t even enough for household expenses.” How had Hudson responded? His hands had explored me with burning heat, his kisses falling like urgent rain. “Hm? Who are you saying can’t measure up? Is your Mr. Hope better, or are other men better?” I couldn’t resist in his embrace and could only beg for mercy. “It’s you! Of course you’re better!” “Dr. Winters, your technique is so gentle. It doesn’t hurt at all.” Cecilia’s voice pulled me back to reality. “Hudson always says I’m too delicate.” The nurse beside her immediately flattered her. “Mrs. Hope, you’re so blessed. Mr. Hope treasures you. I heard this VIP suite was specially renovated for you-even the air purification system is top-of-the-line.” I couldn’t imagine that Hudson had such a gentle and considerate side with someone else. Seeing that I seemed distracted, Cecilia raised her eyebrows smugly. “He’s just too nervous. I said I could just rest at home, but he insisted this place has the best medical facilities and reserved an entire floor for me. Tell me, isn’t he making too big a deal of this?” I forced myself to focus on the examination. But each fetal heartbeat felt like torture to what remained of my sanity. I didn’t even notice my mask had slipped down. Cecilia’s sharp cry jolted me awake. “Ah! Sylvia!” I instinctively stepped back. Her pitying gaze swept over me inch by inch, finally landing on my scarred right hand. “How did Dr. Winters end up in New York? Can your hand still hold a scalpel?” “You don’t know, do you? I’m pregnant with Hudson’s child. Back then he almost imprisoned me because of you, but now he loves me to death.” Her smugness was particularly glaring, especially when she looked provocatively at my injured hand. Anger and humiliation nearly overwhelmed me. Hudson. The man who would calculate the exact time to remind me to eat when I worked night shifts, who would prepare surprises when I complained about being tired. He’d actually married the woman who nearly destroyed my career. To save money, I couldn’t even afford to take cabs to work, commuting over two hours each day. Yet for Cecilia, he could reserve an entire VIP floor. How ridiculous! How ironic! Every moment of the past five years now turned into swords, piercing my heart, the pain so intense I could barely stand. “Miss Cecilia,” I struggled to stay calm. “The fetal development indicators are currently normal.” Just then, Hudson’s call came through. Cecilia raised her eyebrows and put it on speakerphone. Hudson’s voice came through the phone. “Cici, I’m sorry. I was busy with meetings today and couldn’t accompany you to your checkup. To make it up to you, I bought you a mansion. I know you’ll love it.” “How could I be angry?” Cecilia watched my expression. “You’re the one who can’t go back on your word.” The tone on the phone was filled with a tenderness I’d never heard before. I stiffly left the hospital room, didn’t even change clothes, and took a cab directly to Hudson’s company. I needed answers! But just as I reached the door and was about to push it open, I heard the conversation inside. “Mr. Hope, you’re so lucky!” “The gentle Cici in New York is pregnant with your child, and in London you have a dutiful wife keeping your little nest warm for you. You’re a real winner in life!” Everyone chuckled in agreement. Someone asked, “Hudson, aren’t you afraid Sylvia will find out you have a family in New York?” Hudson’s voice was cold, devoid of any warmth. “She’ll never know.” “That she got to be with me for five years, even if it’s a fake marriage, is Sylvia’s good fortune.” My whole body went numb with cold. I don’t even remember how I left. As soon as I got downstairs, I received a call from a friend. “Sylvia, how are things in New York? I heard the work there is very demanding.” He paused, then asked tentatively, “It’s been five years-are you still unwilling to come develop your career in Australia?” If this were before, I definitely would have refused. Compared to my career, I wanted a stable, happy family more. But at this moment, I heard my own voice, unusually clear. “Gabriel, in seven days, I’ll see you in Australia.” “I’m willing to sign a permanent contract with your hospital, on the condition that you help me erase all my identity information domestically.”

Sylvia’s POV After submitting my immigration documents, I returned to my small rented apartment. It was already late. Hudson was sitting on the sofa, looking like he’d been waiting for a long time. “Sylvia, why didn’t you tell me about transferring to Mary Hospital in New York? You wouldn’t answer my calls, so I had to call your former colleagues to find out you’d transferred.” His eyes were slightly red, filled with panic. “I waited at home for three whole hours, terrified something had happened to you.” The worry and heartache in those eyes didn’t seem fake. He was such a good actor. My heart ached so much I could barely breathe. The scenes I’d witnessed in the VIP suite wrapped around my nerves like vines. I wanted to ask him, but I felt that at this point, asking anything was meaningless. Suppressing the stinging in my eyes, I smiled when I looked up again. “Yeah, the salary here is higher.” “After work I wanted to walk around, and I got lost.” Hudson pulled me into his embrace. “Next time take me with you-I can carry your bags.” “Today is our fifth wedding anniversary. I bought you a gift-want to open it?” His chin rested on top of my head, his posture intimate, as if we were still that loving couple. Five years together weren’t fake. I truly had loved Hudson. But behind my back, he’d married the woman who hurt me. I couldn’t understand it. This tender moment lasted only a few seconds before Hudson’s phone rang. The ringtone was the same as Cecilia’s. The man immediately released me, turned and walked to the balcony, completely shutting me out. A few minutes later, he said he had to go out. “Sylvia, there’s an urgent matter at the company. I need to go handle it right away.” As soon as the words left his mouth, I could no longer see him. In the cramped apartment, everything was in plain view. I walked to the desk and opened the gift box. Inside was a mug with the word “Forever” written on it. A cheap style, priced under five dollars. It formed a stark contrast with Cecilia’s astronomical diamond ring and estate. Such blatant favoritism made me gasp with pain. How did Hudson suddenly become so rotten? Where did the man from five years ago go-the one who promised to love me and treat me well for a lifetime? After showering, I walked back to the desk, wanting to get my documents to close my accounts. As I walked over, I noticed the computer screen was lit. Hudson had left in such a hurry he hadn’t even shut down his computer. I hesitated, then tapped my fingers on the keyboard. A password input box popped up on the screen. I tried my birthday. Wrong. Our wedding anniversary. Wrong. Hudson’s birthday. Wrong. Finally, I remembered Cecilia’s birthdate from her medical records and entered it. Unlock successful. The computer instantly woke up, the desktop displayed before me. In the desktop photo, Cecilia nestled in Hudson’s arms, her smile bright and piercing. I forced down my discomfort and opened several folders. The light from the screen illuminated my gradually paling face. Photos, videos, and sweet chat records of Hudson and Cecilia were all carefully backed up by him. All of this pierced the happiness I’d believed in, leaving it full of holes. It turned out that on all those days he claimed to be on business trips and working overtime, Hudson had been with Cecilia. They traveled the world together, kissing on private yachts. They attended elite social events together, Cecilia holding his arm, her smile radiant. There was even a video, shot in the wedding home I’d personally decorated: Cecilia, scantily clad, looked at Hudson with seductive eyes. “Hudson, can you really make love to me while Sylvia is working the night shift? What if she comes back?” “I think you’re just hoping she’ll suddenly come back.” Hudson tore off her clothes. She spread her arms and embraced him with a show of triumph. “Hudson, you’re so bad. This is so exciting-this is your wedding home.” Hudson silenced her mouth with a flurry of kisses. My stomach churned violently. With trembling hands, I clicked on a folder marked “Important.” Inside was Hudson and Cecilia’s marriage certificate registered in New York. The date was the day after Cecilia slashed my right hand. A silent thunderclap exploded in my mind. What daily torment, what living hell-it was all lies! Hudson not only let go of the criminal who destroyed my career, but immediately gave her legal status and let her get pregnant with his child! What did he take me for? Five years! A whole five years! I’d been like a fool, guarding this illusory marriage, carefully budgeting every penny, feeling sorry that he was “struggling” in New York. Meanwhile, my husband was in another city, using astronomical pink diamonds, top-tier VIP suites, even legally recognized marriage to cherish another woman to the utmost! I laughed softly, but tears fell on the keyboard. I slammed the computer shut and looked at the cheap mug. I grabbed the cup, raised it high, and with all my strength smashed it against the wall!

Sylvia’s POV Hudson didn’t come home all night. I sat on the sofa all night without closing my eyes. I didn’t know if I was waiting for him to come home. But as soon as dawn broke, I submitted my resignation to Mary Hospital. My colleagues were all very regretful. My supervisor, Mr. Cooper, tried to keep me. “You just transferred here-why leave already? Stay one more day and say goodbye to everyone properly.” I knew the department had many patients today, so I nodded in agreement. In the VIP suite, when Cecilia saw me enter, a flash of coldness crossed her eyes. “Dr. Winters, we meet again.” Her voice was sickeningly sweet. “Hudson went to pick out the newest limited edition handbag for me today. He said it’s a reward for carrying his baby.” I didn’t acknowledge her. Cecilia sneered. “Speaking of which, you and Hudson have been married five years-how come there’s no movement in your belly at all?” “Could it be that Hudson doesn’t want you to get pregnant?” I put on gloves and took out the fetal heart monitor. “Lie down properly. This is a routine examination.” I applied coupling gel to her swollen abdomen, my movements professional and calm. Cecilia pouted. “Hey, Hudson treats me so well, and you’re not angry at all?” “Hudson is so bad. All these years he wouldn’t let me appear in front of you. But I’m his legal wife. Our wedding was much grander than yours.” “Tell me, if I told him you wanted me to miscarry, what would he do?” The fetal heart monitor emitted a regular, strong “thump thump” sound, showing the fetus was perfectly normal. I quickly recorded the data, just wanting to finish as soon as possible. But just as I was about to complete the examination, Cecilia suddenly let out a terrible scream. She clutched her stomach desperately, screaming in terror. “It hurts! My belly! My baby!” I was startled. Cecilia’s eyes held cold laughter and triumph, her voice particularly piercing in the hospital room. “Help! The doctor is trying to kill me!” The room door burst open as medical staff rushed in at the sound. Cecilia curled up in agony. “Mrs. Hope, what’s wrong?” A nurse hurried forward. “She deliberately pressed hard on my belly! She’s trying to kill my baby-call my husband quickly!” Cecilia cried heart-wrenchingly, her accusations clear and vicious. I tried to explain. “I didn’t. I was just doing a routine examination.” Mr. Cooper spoke up for me. “Dr. Winters is an excellent obstetrician with extensive clinical experience. She would never make a mistake during a routine examination.” But no one listened to our explanations. Cecilia quickly dialed Hudson’s number, tears streaming down her face. “Hudson, come quickly! The attending physician pressed so hard on my belly, it hurts so much! She’s trying to kill our baby, I’m so scared!” Hudson’s voice came through the phone, cold as ice. “Don’t be afraid, Cici. I’ll be right there. Where are the bodyguards? You’re just going to stand there and watch my wife get bullied?!” Several burly bodyguards exchanged glances. The next second, they grabbed me and dragged me out. “Let go of me!” I struggled desperately, but the difference in strength was too great. The bodyguards dragged me all the way and threw me hard to the ground. “Mr. Hope’s orders are for us to ‘take good care of’ Dr. Winters and help his wife vent her anger.” The lead bodyguard looked at me with sinister eyes. “Pretty face, but too bad you offended the wrong person.” My heart sank, cold creeping up from the soles of my feet. “What do you want to do?” “What?” Another bodyguard showed a disgusting smile. “Mr. Hope only said ‘punish.’ He didn’t say how. Such a pretty woman, it’d be a waste just to beat her up.” “We can’t touch Mr. Hope’s woman, but we can play with this doctor, right? Consider it venting for Mrs. Hope!” Terror instantly seized my heart. I looked at the men closing in, my eyes filled with despair. “Get away! Don’t touch me!” I grabbed debris from the ground and swung it desperately, trying to resist. But my resistance was meaningless. One bodyguard easily knocked away what I was holding, while another violently tore at my white coat and shirt. I screamed, humiliation and terror making my whole body tremble. I desperately tried to protect myself, rolling on the filthy floor to dodge. Just at this moment of despair, a sharp stabbing pain suddenly shot through my lower abdomen! The pain came so fiercely, like a knife twisting inside, instantly draining all my strength. I moaned in agony. “Stop pretending!” A bodyguard impatiently kicked me in the stomach. But the next second, everyone froze. Deep red blood spread from beneath me, staining the grimy floor, the bloodstain growing larger and larger, a horrifying sight.

Sylvia’s POV “Blood!” The bodyguard backed away in terror. “Why is she bleeding?” Another one panicked too. “We didn’t even touch her.” I was also dazed. The severe pain made my consciousness blur. I looked blankly at the rapidly expanding pool of blood beneath me. A huge, ominous premonition enveloped me. With trembling hands, I touched my lower abdomen. The wet, sticky sensation made my whole body go cold. I… I was pregnant? I was actually pregnant? I was an experienced obstetrician, yet in the daily mental torture, I’d overlooked my own physical condition. At this most unbearable, most desperate moment, the life I’d desperately wanted to surprise Hudson with, the life we were supposed to nurture together, had quietly arrived and just as quietly left me. Immense grief and physical agony intertwined, making me cry out in pain. “What do we do? With this much blood, will she die?” The bodyguards completely panicked. They’d only wanted to “play around”-they hadn’t expected to cause a death. The lead bodyguard’s face went pale as he dialed Hudson’s number. “Mr. Hope, something’s wrong. That Dr…. the attending physician is bleeding heavily, there’s blood everywhere, she looks like she’s dying!” Hudson’s tone was cold, even annoyed. “She’s just a doctor. If she dies, she dies. What’s all the fuss about? New York has plenty of good doctors-we won’t miss her. Clean it up and don’t dirty the hospital. Bad luck!” Hudson’s words stabbed into what remained of my consciousness. My child with him… In his words, didn’t even qualify as “bad luck.” The bodyguards looked at the pool of blood still expanding beneath me. None of them dared touch me again. Finally, they threw me into the emergency stairwell like garbage and quickly fled. The heavy smell of blood filled my nostrils. My body felt hollowed out with pain and weakness. The blood kept flowing. I kept passing out from pain and waking up again. But I couldn’t die here. I used every last bit of strength to drag my heavy body out of the emergency stairwell, crawling inch by inch. Blood left a long, glaring trail behind me. I didn’t know where I was going. Every step felt like walking on knife points. Every breath pulled at the severe pain in my abdomen. Just as I was about to collapse, my phone rang. The name that once made my heart flutter appeared on the screen-Hudson. I answered with my blood-stained hand, trembling as I held it to my ear. I wanted to ask him: Hudson, why are you bullying me? Didn’t you say you’d treat me well for life? I wanted to tell him: Hudson, our baby is gone. I’d really been looking forward to it for so long. I really wanted to have a child who looked like you. But the words I wanted to say stuck in my throat after Hudson spoke. “Sylvia, where are you? Come to Mary Hospital VIP suite immediately to take care of Cecilia. She’s been frightened and needs someone with her.” “You graduated from a top medical school and you’re an experienced doctor-you know how to comfort pregnant women.” Realizing his tone was too harsh, Hudson explained. “When Cecilia was in the psychiatric hospital, she was… violated by another patient and got pregnant.” “That was my mistake. I need to take responsibility.” “She’s emotionally unstable right now. You come take care of her-consider it helping me repay my debt.” I felt my mind go completely blank. All the blood in my body rushed to my head, then instantly froze to ice. So that’s it… Even for the child in Cecilia’s belly, he could fabricate such a disgusting yet “devoted” lie to cover it up. Severe pain and blood loss made my mind fuzzy. My vision went dark, and I passed out.

Sylvia’s POV When I woke up again, three days had passed. Mr. Cooper saw me wake up and quickly used a cotton swab dipped in water to moisten my lips. “Feeling better?” “I…” “You had a miscarriage,” Mr. Cooper looked at me with heartache. “You were unconscious for three days.” I closed my eyes. As expected. “During these three days… did anyone look for me?” Mr. Cooper looked at me sympathetically. “Your husband called you. As soon as I answered, he started yelling at me. I couldn’t hear what he said clearly, but… he was very angry.” I smiled bitterly. “Didn’t he ask what happened to me?” “…No.” I nodded. When I opened my eyes again, they held only resolve. “I understand. Thank you.” “Take good care of yourself.” Four more days. I lay there for two more days. Other than occasionally receiving process notification texts from immigration, my phone was as quiet as death. For the first time, I was certain-Hudson truly didn’t love me anymore. After lunch, I got out of bed to move around. Without realizing it, I walked to the VIP suite and happened to see Hudson bringing food to Cecilia. Cecilia was propped up in bed, taking small sips of the nutritional supplement Hudson fed her. “Honey, you’re so good to me. For my sake, you were even willing to drug Sylvia so she couldn’t get pregnant. I heard that drug is very toxic. Even if she miraculously got pregnant, she wouldn’t be able to carry it to term.” “You even married me in New York, making me the legitimate Mrs. Hope.” Hudson’s hand paused. The expression on his face showed a hint of struggle. After a long silence, he finally responded with a sound of acknowledgment. Outside the door, I was thunderstruck. My whole body trembled. My palms were punctured by my nails, drawing blood. Why? Why would you treat me this way? No wonder I couldn’t get pregnant in five years of marriage, no matter how actively we tried to conceive. No wonder when I finally got pregnant this time I didn’t feel anything. The fetus was probably too weak. Inside the room, Hudson put down the nutritional supplement in his hand. “This is what I owe you.” “Five years ago, I didn’t want to reveal my identity, so I just complained that the wedding was too extravagant. You made a scene at the wedding for my sake, forcing the family to agree to let me hide my identity.” “Three years ago when Sylvia was going abroad for advanced studies, I told you I couldn’t bear to part with her, so you took a knife and slashed her hand.” “And also, because her mother discovered my relationship with you, you drove and killed her. Just to protect my reputation, you implicated yourself in a hit-and-run and still can’t return to the mainland.” Guilt and gratitude flickered in Hudson’s eyes. “Although I can’t give you one hundred percent of my feelings, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Cecilia, everything I’ve done for you is what you deserve.” A flash of disappointment crossed Cecilia’s eyes, but she quickly recovered and nestled against his shoulder. “What if Sylvia finds out? She’s so proud. If she knew everything you’ve done…” Hudson held her and patted her gently. “Her mother’s ashes are kept in the Hope family cemetery.” The implication was clear. I wouldn’t dare resist. Outside the hospital room, I couldn’t stop trembling. It turned out all the dark moments in my life hadn’t come from fate. At the root, they were nothing more than Hudson’s complaints and reluctance! It was him, quietly guiding that mad dog Cecilia from behind, making her attack me again and again. Destroying my family, tearing apart my dreams, trampling me viciously underfoot! Even my mother’s death wasn’t an accident-it was murder! A murder instigated by my husband Hudson and carried out by my rival Cecilia! And even after Mother’s death, he used her ashes as leverage to control me. I pushed open the door with shaking hands. The two people inside hadn’t expected anyone to enter. As soon as I walked in, Cecilia screamed in fright. The nutritional supplement crashed to the floor. Hudson whipped around. The moment he saw me, his pupils constricted sharply. He instinctively stood up to explain, but then seemed to think of something and forcibly held back. “What are you doing here?” he asked quietly. He moved toward the door, but Cecilia reached out and grabbed his sleeve. “Hudson, I’m scared.” Hudson’s expression darkened. He stood still and looked at me. “A few days ago I told you to come take care of Cici. Why didn’t you come?” I looked at this man who felt like a stranger to me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “366534”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

My husband, Ethan Whitmore, was obsessed with “fishing trips” with his female coworker. We fought about it every single day. By the fourth year, I was too exhausted to fight anymore. So I picked up my own fishing rod and tackle box and started leaving early and coming home late, just like him. At first, Ethan didn’t care. Until one night when he came home at midnight and found I still wasn’t back. That’s when he panicked. He begged me, promising he’d never go fishing again and would stay home with me like a proper husband. But I wasn’t interested anymore. After all, the catch I’d reeled in was the city’s newly arrived eligible bachelor—the golden single man everyone was talking about. Adrian Castellan, the wealthiest man in town. I’m a lazy person. Because I was too lazy to look for a boyfriend, I married my childhood friend Ethan Whitmore. After the wedding, we got along pretty well. Until his parents arranged a job for him. There was a girl in his department named Sarah Smith who always invited him out. At first it was dinners and drinks at bars. Then somehow they got obsessed with late-night fishing, even staying out all night. Night after night I slept alone in an empty bed. How was I supposed to handle that? I fought with Ethan about it. He said I was being dramatic. His coworker Sarah even fanned the flames from the sidelines: “Seriously, Ethan, just go home. Looks like she can’t survive without a man for five minutes.” A few single male coworkers stood nearby, laughing mockingly. I couldn’t be bothered with these people. I grabbed Ethan’s arm, trying to get him to come home. He shook me off so hard I nearly fell to the ground. “Are you done yet? Can’t I have a single hobby of my own?” “I work myself to death all day to earn money. I even help you with housework.” “I’ve been nothing but accommodating to you. The only thing I ask is a little personal space to enjoy myself. Why do you have to pick a fight with me over it?” I felt inexplicably hurt. “You call this ‘a little while’? You haven’t been home for a whole week.” His expression turned cold. “What do you mean I haven’t been home? I come back to sleep every night.” “That’s at three in the morning! And you leave for work the next day. On weekends you go out with them too. We haven’t even had a proper conversation.” “That’s because you don’t have any friends. That’s not my problem.” His face was stern, clearly annoyed. “Jenna Ashford, let me tell you something—we’re married, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to everything you say.” Ethan had always been gentle since childhood and had never lost his temper with me. That’s why I felt safe marrying him. But it had only been—what, how long since the wedding?—and he’d already learned to fight with me. Furious, I turned and left. From that point on, our interactions became tense and hostile. We ended up sleeping in separate rooms and wouldn’t speak when we saw each other. The spacious house felt like an ice cellar. My heart felt blocked and heavy, so I had no motivation to take care of myself. Over three years, I gained a lot of weight and my face constantly wore an expression of infinite resentment. Until one day my longtime friend Bella, who was in town on a business trip, met me for dinner and got a terrible shock when she saw me. “Jenna, what happened to you? How did you end up like this?” Me: “Like what?” “See for yourself!” She pulled out a compact mirror. In it, I saw a bitter woman with a sallow complexion and lifeless eyes. I was so startled I threw the mirror down on the table with a clatter. “Shit, how did I get so ugly?” I immediately told Bella everything about Ethan. She pressed her lips together and looked at me for a long time, as if she didn’t know what to say. I was anxious and kept poking her. “Say something! What’s with the silent treatment?” Bella sighed. “I just feel like… after you got married, it’s like your brain got kicked by a donkey.” She began analyzing: “Look, that Sarah is obviously trying to seduce your husband! And your husband has probably already cheated on you.” Bella continued: “If that’s the case, you might as well find yourself another man.” I clenched my fists in anger. “Right! I can find a new boyfriend too!” She sighed again. “Look, I’m not telling you this to encourage you to cheat. I just want you to understand that you need to love yourself, no matter what.”

After parting with Bella, I went home. The spacious house was filled with cluttered junk. All of it was cheap stuff I’d bought over three years of marriage to ease my misery. Secondhand shop bargains for ten or twenty bucks each, filling up our hundred-square-meter apartment. Fortunately, though Ethan ignored me, he still had one good point—he gave me household money. Out of his eight-thousand-dollar monthly salary, he’d give me three thousand as spending money. It was because of this that I kept enduring, even though I felt terrible. After talking with Bella, I realized this wasn’t right. My precious youth shouldn’t be wasted on a loveless marriage. Looking at my bloated reflection in the mirror—greasy hair, oversized t-shirt—I took a long, deep breath. I pulled my long hair up into a bun, grabbed an enormous garbage bag, and started throwing things away. I threw things out from noon until evening. Eight bags total. The house was half-empty. The high-calorie foods in the cabinets—I threw them all out. The cheap clothes in the closet, the bargain cosmetics on my dresser, and even my wedding photo with Ethan—everything went into the trash. After finishing all that, I boiled two sweet potatoes for myself. I’d barely eaten a few bites when I heard the front door. Ethan pushed the door open and walked in, followed by the polished and glamorous Sarah Smith. When she saw me, her expression didn’t change. She smiled and said, “Oh, you’re home, Jenna.” I made a sound of acknowledgment. “Yeah. Why are you here?” “Ethan said his new fishing rod is really good. I came to borrow it and try it out.” Ethan didn’t even look at me. He walked straight into the room. Sarah sat down next to me, staring at the sweet potatoes in front of me. “Why are you eating this cheap stuff, Jenna? Are you trying to lose weight?” Me: “Yeah, I’m too fat. Thought I’d slim down a bit.” She giggled. “Oh, I don’t mean to be rude, but body type is really about genetics, you know?” “Some people are just born to be heavy. Starving yourself won’t work—you won’t be able to lose it.” “You should just give up, Jenna. Do you have any instant noodles in the house? Let me go cook you a bowl.” She stood up to head toward the kitchen but I stopped her. “Don’t bother. I threw everything away.” “Why?” “I’m not eating it anymore. Would’ve been a waste to keep it.” Sarah’s eyes flickered. Finally she just smiled. “Okay then. If you’re dead set on losing weight, we’ll just wait and see how it goes.” She looked up and saw Ethan walking out. Without asking, she went over and took the fishing rod from his hands. “Wow, Ethan, this rod really is nice—thin and light.” “Come on, tonight I’ll rent out that fishing pond on the south side of town. Let’s catch a few fish and try it out.” As she talked, she glanced back at me with false guilt. “Oh, I forgot you were here. Is it okay if I go with Ethan?” The current version of Ethan didn’t consider me at all anymore. He smirked mockingly. “Why are you asking her? What she says doesn’t matter anyway.” Over three years, Ethan hadn’t changed at all. In fact, as he’d gotten older, he’d become more mature and masculine. Combined with his well-maintained physique and respectable job, it wasn’t just Sarah—plenty of other women threw themselves at him. He was no longer as innocent as when we first got married. Now when he looked at Sarah, there was a predatory edge to his gaze. I stared, hating myself even more for living like a ghost for three years because of someone like him. I’d been such a fool. Ethan looked up at me with a perfunctory expression. “I’m leaving. I won’t be back for dinner. Eat by yourself.” Me: “Okay.” He was about to leave, then turned back. “Oh, by the way, I’m transferring you four thousand dollars this month. The company gave out quarterly bonuses.” “Okay.”

With the balance in my card, I went to the gym downstairs. Fortunately, my in-laws had bought property in a good location—everything was nearby. After getting a seasonal membership, I still had $2,900 left. Looking at my messy hair in the mirror, I steeled myself and cut it all off. For the next three months, I put all my focus into working out. Ethan was gone every few days. I barely noticed. After losing over forty pounds, none of my old clothes fit anymore. I wanted to ask Ethan for money to buy a few new outfits, but he wasn’t as generous as usual. He scolded me for wasting money and buying random things. After lecturing me for ages, he transferred me five hundred dollars. I accepted it through gritted teeth. Just then, a man named Lucas Reed approached me. He looked refined and scholarly. He invited me to dinner. Seeing the Rolex watch on his wrist, I had a sudden flash of insight. Right—”marry for food and shelter,” as they say. If there was nothing I wanted from this person, why would I be with him? Right. I should find myself a new match. So that evening, I went with Lucas to a private estate to fish. It was a remote location, but everyone who came and went looked wealthy. I didn’t like Lucas. He wasn’t attractive, and his eyes were sleazy. After chatting for just a few minutes, he kept steering the conversation toward sex. This guy was way too eager—definitely not a good person. I shouldn’t get too involved with him. I lost patience and stood up to leave. But Lucas got agitated and grabbed me. “Where do you think you’re going? You got in my car—leaving isn’t that easy.” I found his words absurd. “What are you going to do, stab me?” Lucas wouldn’t let go. “I’m not going to stab you. But I’ve got plenty of ways to make you cry.” Psycho. He’s sick! I lifted my leg to kick him. Lucas dodged. I went to grab his hair instead, and we made quite a commotion. The estate owner heard the noise and came over. Seeing the situation, he quickly pulled us apart and dragged Lucas aside. “Can you chill out today? I’ve got a client here.” Lucas tugged at his collar indignantly. “What kind of VIP client tells me I can’t hit on a girl?” “The chairman of Zenith Holdings. Just arrived. You know his background—he doesn’t like people making a scene.” Lucas’s expression shifted. “Zenith? Adrian Castellan?” “Yes, him!” “I heard his wife died a few years ago. He moved the company to a new city to avoid being reminded of her. Why would a widower come out to the wilderness?” “The way you talk—the man just wants to relax and enjoy nature. You think everyone’s like you?” I stood to the side listening as their voices got quieter and quieter, like mosquitoes. Annoyed, I tried to sneak away. After a few steps, I got lost. Then I ran into a man dressed in casual clothes. The moment our eyes met, we both froze.

I don’t know why he froze. I froze because… I’d never seen such a handsome man. To be fair, Ethan was already quite good-looking. Compared to the man in front of me, he didn’t even measure up to a third. It was mainly the aura. The difference was too great. This man, just standing there with his profile showing, made my heart race. I unconsciously licked my lips. “Um…” Adrian Castellan looked at me. “Yes?” “I’m lost. Can you help me?” Maybe it had been too long since I’d seen a handsome man. The sudden stimulation scrambled my brain like mush. Adrian’s distant gaze swept over me. Finally, he pointed to the right. “That way. You can get out.” “Oh. Thank you.” I walked quite a distance before I realized—I shouldn’t have just left like that. The estate Lucas had brought me to was in a remote location. Walking on foot, I’d probably break my legs before getting out of here. But if I turned back, I couldn’t find the way. And what if I ran into Lucas? That would be even more troublesome. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place when I heard a car horn behind me. A Bentley slowly pulled up in front of me. Through the window was the man from just now. Adrian didn’t know why he was being so charitable, but seeing the woman clutching her jacket closed in front of him, he opened the door anyway. “Get in. I’ll take you back.” I obediently climbed into the passenger seat and said honestly, “Thank you.” Adrian’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing. On the drive back, he drove quietly. I looked down at my phone. Ten o’clock at night. Ethan hadn’t sent me a single message. On social media, Sarah had posted more photos of their gathering. Ethan was sitting very close to her. If someone didn’t know better, they might think they were a couple. I sighed deeply, not understanding if this kind of marriage was even worth continuing. Unable to figure it out myself, I looked at the calm and composed man beside me. My brain short-circuited and I asked the question out loud. Adrian raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking a complete stranger about marriage?” Me: “Maybe sometimes strangers see things more clearly.” He smiled noncommittally. After a long pause, he finally said, “If you’re asking me, I’d say you haven’t figured out what you want from your life.” I froze instantly. This man was really, truly ruthless.

I really didn’t know what I wanted. My parents were busy with business and also had a younger son. Because I was a daughter, my parents left me with my grandparents from a young age. No one cared about me or paid attention to me. They all wished I wouldn’t bother them. After my grandparents died, my parents didn’t bring me back home. Instead, they bought me an apartment in Southridge and told me to live there. The major I studied was randomly chosen. The husband I married was randomly picked. Because no one ever told me how life should be lived. Now someone had torn away the pretense and, with just a few words, seen through my empty life. My nose inexplicably stung. I asked in a nasal voice, “Then… what do you think I should do?” Perhaps my tearful tone was too obvious. Adrian glanced at me several more times. He said, “If you’re not afraid I’m a bad person, then buy yourself some fishing gear and a rod. Come back here tomorrow.” As he spoke, the car had already arrived downstairs at my building. Before we parted, he gave me his phone number. After adding him as a contact, I saw his profile name had a simple “A” for Adrian. His social media was nearly empty—just one photo of the ocean. The caption read: Ten years of life and death apart. Even without thinking of you, how could I forget? He seemed quite lonely too. Grateful to him, I immediately ran out the next day to buy equipment. After riding the bus for over an hour, I went back to the estate. He must have given them a heads-up, because as soon as I arrived, someone came to greet me. They led me for quite a while before I saw Adrian fishing again. He’d changed into a black casual outfit. Sitting among the wild grass, he made even the vegetation look refined. I tiptoed over carefully, making Adrian frown slightly. “Jenna Ashford.” “Yes!” “Straighten your back! You’re obviously a beautiful woman—why are you so insecure?” Seeing his stern gaze, I instinctively straightened my posture. “I’m sorry, Mr. Castellan.” “My name is Adrian Castellan.” “I’m sorry, Adrian.” Adrian sighed, pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, and gestured with his chin toward a chair nearby. “You. Sit over there. Set up your fishing rod.” Me: … Heaven help me, I thought Adrian had invited me here to teach me some profound truth about life. Or maybe, that he was attracted to me and wanted to flirt. But for an entire week, I rode the bus for an hour each day to the estate, fished for five hours, then rode the bus back home for another hour. All I did was fish in the spot he rented. Most of the time, I was alone. Adrian didn’t sit with me. Much of the time, he was in his cabin working or sleeping. I sat alone staring at the calm lake surface, my thoughts sprouting like weeds in my mind. And because he said I could exchange each fish for a hundred dollars, I didn’t dare mess around on my phone. I could only stare blankly at the fishing line, waiting for a fish to bite. I was fishing so intently that one day I lost track of time and didn’t even notice it had gotten dark. Even more absurd—Ethan and Sarah appeared across from me. They were cuddling on chairs, kissing passionately. They made such a huge commotion they scared away my fish. Annoyed, I looked up—and realized my husband was cheating on me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “366535”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

I’ve been married to George for five years, and we’ve maintained the habit of getting annual checkups. This year, feeling bad that I’d been working so hard for the family, he booked me a full-body examination worth three thousand dollars. But on the day of the checkup, just as I was about to leave, I got a call from him: “Betty says her breasts are bothering her again. I gave her your appointment slot. Just stay home and get dinner ready!” I froze mid-step. My stomach, empty all morning, churned violently, and my heart sank with disappointment. Betty was George’s childhood friend. Whatever she asked for, he would never refuse. I grabbed my bank card, planning to go to the hospital and book another checkup myself, but was told: “There’s no balance on this card. How can you make a reservation?” I stood there as if struck by lightning. Five years of savings—how could there be nothing left? I immediately called George, and he admitted it without hesitation. “Betty majored in finance. Having her manage the money is the best choice. What would a housewife like you know about it?” I gripped the bank card tightly. In that moment, my heart finally died. “What? Are you sure?!” I stood there clutching the bank card, anxious and confused, my brain completely shutting down. Seeing I didn’t believe her, the nurse swiped the card through the machine again, frowning impatiently: “There’s no money on this card. How am I supposed to charge you for the examination?” “Don’t you have a balance on your phone? Mobile payment works too…” The nurse gently reminded me, but all I had on my phone was the fifty-six dollars George had given me for groceries. Nothing else. Voices behind me in line grew impatient. Embarrassed and flushed, I apologized and hurried away with my card. Only when I stood outside the hospital did my emotions gradually settle. In our five years of marriage, George and I had agreed on how to handle our household savings—all income would be deposited into the card under my name. There was no way it could have zero balance! But where could my eighty thousand dollars in savings from five years have gone? Suddenly, a terrifying thought flashed through my mind. With trembling hands, I called George to demand answers. The moment he picked up, I heard George’s puzzled voice calmly admitting everything: “That’s right, I transferred the eighty thousand in savings to Betty’s name. She majored in finance and knows how to manage money—naturally better than a housewife like you.” I was so angry my voice shook, nearly losing control: “Twenty thousand of that was mine! Who gave you permission to transfer my money to her without asking me!” “You need to transfer my money back right now!” Hearing my near-hysterical voice, George sighed with exasperation, his tone growing sharp: “Is this little thing worth getting so worked up over? Betty’s not a stranger. Worst case, I’ll give it back to you later!” As we reached this impasse, Betty’s voice drifted over from a distance: “George, there are way too many tests! My arm is all bruised from the needles. It hurts so much!” George immediately softened his cold tone, speaking with careful tenderness: “That’s my fault. I was worried about your health, so I scheduled all these checkups. I’ll buy you a bag later to make up for it…” The two of them flirted shamelessly as if no one else existed. George’s mother, Ruth, joined in with playful banter: “If only Betty were my daughter-in-law! Maybe our family would finally have an heir!” I felt like an outsider, left to the side, listening to their family chat. All my anger dissolved into overwhelming grievance. Even before marriage, I knew George had a close friend. I’d been suspicious once, but George held me and coaxed me for a long time, swearing: “I only think of Betty as a sister. Don’t worry, I promise we’ll never cross any lines!” But those promises had now become evidence slapping me in the face. I was such a fool, believing George year after year. Betty seemed to deliberately move closer to the phone speaker, constantly acting cute and pitiful, clearly gloating despite getting everything she wanted. I couldn’t listen anymore. I hung up directly, tears gradually blurring my vision. I used my remaining fifty-six dollars to take a cab home, too exhausted to speak.

Every detail in the house was the result of George and me staying up late designing together. He’d once held my hand, kissed the corner of my lips, and smiled: “You’re the only mistress of this house. There will never be anyone else.” But less than two months later, Betty moved into our home under the excuse of a graduation internship, treating me like a servant to order around. “Christina, can you cut me some fruit? I’m allergic to mango though!” “Christina, where’s George’s bathrobe? It’s too cold after my shower. Can I borrow it?” “Christina, I’m scared of the dark by myself. Can I sleep with George tonight?” When Betty said that last line, she batted her eyes. She knew my opinion didn’t matter. Suppressing my dissatisfaction, I was about to warn Betty not to mess around when I saw George pull her into the bedroom. “Betty’s just a kid to me. You’re not going to be petty with a kid, are you?” This matter that had bothered me for so long ended up being dismissed as me being petty, and I got lectured by the whole family. The coffee table I loved sat in the center of the living room. Our wedding photos on the bookshelf now looked bitterly ironic. Lost in thought, the door suddenly burst open. Betty’s laughter reached my ears, followed by complaints. “Christina, you’re home alone and didn’t even make dinner?” Right. In five years of marriage, this was the first time I didn’t want to cook dinner. I didn’t respond. Standing for so long had made my lower back ache again. George stared at me like I was his enemy: “Christina, you’re so angry about the savings that you won’t even cook dinner?!” Ruth walked in from behind the door. She had severe OCD and couldn’t tolerate even a speck of dust. My chronic back pain had become this severe under her day-after-day nagging. Ruth raised her voice, her hand trembling with anger: “Christina, you didn’t mop the floor again today! Are you trying to make the whole family sick with germs!” “How did our family end up with such a daughter-in-law!” Then Ruth, as usual, started bringing up old grievances, criticizing me inside and out. I’d devoted myself wholeheartedly to serving this family, giving up my career and life, only to receive such differential treatment in return. I laughed bitterly. The last trace of hope in my heart vanished completely. “I’m not hungry, so why would I cook dinner for you? Don’t you have hands?” George’s face turned iron-blue, as if looking at a stranger, his brow furrowed tightly. I turned to look at Ruth, who was still cursing, and said calmly: “Since I’m so terrible, why don’t you have George marry Betty instead? She seems pretty willing.” The moment those words left my mouth, Betty’s eyes turned red, looking as if she’d been completely slandered, and she turned to leave. “So this is how Christina sees me! And I thought of you as family. I’m leaving!” George quickly grabbed Betty to explain, then turned and slapped me across the face. The force was so great I fell directly onto the glass coffee table. My already agonizing lower back felt like it had snapped in two. I cried out in pain. The glass table shattered instantly, shards embedding themselves in my flesh, making me shudder. Seeing my torn and bleeding state, George’s voice softened somewhat, but still carried suppressed anger: “I’ve told you so many times—Betty is just my sister. Can you stop being so unreasonable!” “Consider what happened today a lesson. Don’t make things difficult for me again!” Ruth snorted coldly and stepped over my body to go to the side bedroom. Betty continued sobbing. Just before George was about to leave, I spoke with trembling voice. My tone carried a note of finality: “George, let’s get divorced!”

“Divorced?” George, who had just calmed down, lost his composure again: “We’ve been together for so many years, and just because of some argument about a checkup today, you want a divorce?!” “What am I to you? Is marriage a game to you!” Every organ in my body ached, making it painful to say even one more word. “I’ve thought it through. We have to get divorced!” George thought I was playing hard to get like during our dating period. He laughed and stopped paying attention: “Then go get divorced by yourself. As long as I don’t agree, you won’t succeed!” Betty glared at me coldly, then left for the bedroom with her arm linked through George’s. I struggled to get up from the shattered glass, fortunate that my face and carotid artery were uninjured. I pulled out my phone and called someone I hadn’t contacted in a long time: “You once said if I was wronged, you’d come get me. Was that true?” At ten that evening, I got in Dino’s car, semiconscious as he took me to the hospital. When I woke up, the doctor had practically wrapped me up like a mummy. It looked rather ridiculous. I glanced at the hospital room facilities, lowered my eyes, and laughed bitterly: “Thank you, Dino. I’ll pay you back for the hospital fees as soon as I can!” Dino acted like he’d heard a joke, furious: “Christina, we’ve known each other for over ten years with such a deep friendship, and over a few thousand dollars you say something so cold!” “You’re an only child from a well-off family. When were you ever short on food or drink? How could George let you suffer like this!” “George won’t even give you a few thousand dollars!” My heart ached hearing this. I didn’t want to admit it, but that was indeed the truth. Pampered for over twenty years, after marriage I didn’t even have money to go to the hospital. Remembering the embarrassment of having no money on my card that day, tears streamed down uncontrollably, along with years of resentment. Thinking he’d spoken too harshly, Dino quickly embraced me gently and comforted me: “Christina, don’t cry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just can’t stand to see you wronged…” I shook my head, pulled away from the warm embrace, and sobbed: “I need to ask you for one last favor!” “Help me find a good lawyer. I want to file for divorce!” Dino paused, his eyes growing determined as he solemnly agreed: “Alright, I’ll help you!” After three days in the hospital, some of the bandages could finally be removed. During this time, George hadn’t called once. I knew that without me at home, the two of them could celebrate freely and live it up. But I wasn’t idle either. Through the lawyer Dino found, I detailed my demands. George’s marital infidelity, Betty’s use of my savings—everything that belonged to me, I would claim back in full. That evening, as I was getting out of bed to move around, I suddenly received a message. It contained unabashedly intimate nude photos. Betty was lying on George’s back, sending me a provocation: [George finally decided not to use protection this time. Once I’m pregnant with his child, you’ll have no choice but to pack up and leave!] [What belongs to me, you’ll never take away in this lifetime!] I looked at the provocative nude photos Betty sent, completely unmoved. Whatever love I’d had for George had long been ground away, leaving only endless hatred. This idiot had just handed me concrete evidence of the affair. I’d been worried about not having surveillance to preserve this evidence. I smiled coldly and backed up all these photos and chat records to send to my lawyer. The day I was discharged, Betty sent me another medical report. This time it was a pregnancy test. The ultrasound already showed a gestational sac—pregnancy was imminent. I thought these naked provocations were all there was. But then Betty revealed an important piece of information that left me stunned. [Christina, do you know why you haven’t gotten pregnant in five years of marriage?] [Because your prenuptial medical report was fake. George said you had an infertile constitution, but that was just an excuse because he didn’t want to have children with you!] [You fool, I can’t believe you were deceived for so long haha!]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “366175”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn

I’m incredibly lazy. My husband Franklin has been keeping a mistress, and I know about it. But I can’t be bothered to deal with it. For ten years, the two of them have been lovey-dovey while I’ve been lying flat at home doing absolutely nothing. The amazing thing is, these two are incredibly capable. They actually took my failing little company and made it go public. I was planning to keep being lazy, but today they came to talk to me. Franklin slid a divorce agreement across the table. “I’ll give you ten million. Let’s get divorced.” I looked at the company now worth over a hundred million and laughed. “I may be lazy, but I’m not stupid.” The air conditioning in the café was blasting. Sitting across from me were Franklin and his mistress of ten years, Lisa. The two sat intimately close, wearing perfectly tailored designer clothes with matching couple’s watches on their wrists. Meanwhile, I wore a loose cotton dress and flat shoes, looking like a housewife who had wandered into a high-level business negotiation by mistake. Franklin pushed a document toward me. Next to it lay a check for ten million dollars. “Ivanka, let’s talk.” Franklin’s voice was calm, carrying that particular condescension of someone in power. “These past ten years, you haven’t managed anything. The company’s success today is entirely due to the hard work Lisa and I put in.” He paused, as if giving me time to process this. “There’s been no love between us for a long time. Dragging this out benefits no one.” Lisa chimed in at the perfect moment with a gentle, slightly apologetic smile. “Ivanka, Franklin is only thinking of your best interests. With this money, you can live comfortably for the rest of your life without worrying about anything.” Her tone was sincere, as if she truly had my welfare at heart. Ten years. Ever since I handed that half-dead company over to Franklin, I’d been living like I was retired. I knew he was having an affair with his assistant Lisa, but I couldn’t be bothered to call them out. As long as they ran the company well and money kept appearing in my account, I didn’t care how many mistresses he had on the side. My best friend Elena said I was stupid. I just smiled. I didn’t touch the divorce agreement or look at the check. My fingers leisurely stirred the coffee in front of me. The porcelain spoon clinked against the cup, making a crisp sound. Once. Then again. In the quiet of the private room, it rang out especially clear. Franklin’s brow furrowed slightly. My calm reaction displeased him. In his script, I should have been crying, shocked, or greedily haggling for more. Not sitting here so composed, as if listening to a story that had nothing to do with me. “Ten million, and I leave with nothing.” I softly repeated the terms, as if savoring the words. “Franklin, after ten years running a publicly traded company, is your vision really this small?” Franklin’s expression darkened. “Ivanka, people shouldn’t be too greedy. Have you contributed even one ounce of effort to this company? You don’t even know which office building it’s in, do you?” Lisa immediately jumped in, her tone laced with contempt. “Ivanka, this company is worth over a hundred million, but that’s all from Franklin’s and my blood, sweat, and tears. Giving you ten million is already extremely generous.” I finally stopped stirring my coffee. I looked up at them. Then I laughed. Not a cold laugh or a mocking laugh, but genuine laughter from finding something truly amusing. “Have you two gotten something confused?” My voice wasn’t loud, but it made both of them freeze simultaneously. “This company—from its inception, I’m the legal representative. One hundred percent of the shares are in my name. You two are my authorized agent and a senior employee of the company.” I watched their expressions gradually change, my smile deepening. “When did I ever say my company became your company?” Franklin’s face flushed red. “Ivanka, without us, it would just be an empty shell!” “So I should thank you.” I nodded. “As thanks, I’ve never shorted you on salary or bonuses. Lisa, your year-end bonus last year was over three hundred thousand. That’s what bought you that watch on your wrist, isn’t it?” Lisa’s face instantly went deathly pale. I stood up and grabbed my bag. “I won’t sign the divorce agreement, and I won’t give up a cent of my assets.” I looked down at them like they were a pair of clowns. “The company’s annual shareholders meeting is next month. When it happens, I’ll attend in my capacity as Chairman of the Board.” “I’d like to see how you plan to spend a single dollar of the company’s money without my authorization.” I turned and left, leaving behind two people with ashen faces. Walking out of the café, the sunlight was blinding. The smile vanished from my face instantly, replaced by icy coldness. I got in my car and made a phone call. “Attorney Jamal, it’s me.” A steady male voice came through the line. “Ivanka, are you ready?” “Yes.” I looked in the rearview mirror at the two figures chasing out of the café, my eyes cold as ice. “They’ve shown their hand. We can begin our plan.” The pigs I’d been fattening for ten years—it was time for slaughter.

My attorney, Jamal, was a top expert in the field. Ten years ago, when I decided to become a hands-off boss, I sought him out. At the time, I had just inherited the company my father left behind. The company wasn’t large, but due to mismanagement, it was drowning in debt and on the verge of bankruptcy. My father’s dying wish was for me to save the company. But I was naturally lazy and had no clue about business management. Back then, Franklin was a dirt-poor nobody with overwhelming ambition. He pursued me obsessively and catered to my every whim. I saw the hunger in his eyes. I needed someone who could do the work. He needed a platform to climb the ladder. We hit it off immediately. Before we got married, I brought Franklin to meet Attorney Jamal. Jamal drafted a prenuptial agreement and a company management authorization agreement that could only be described as harsh. The agreement stated clearly: I owned the company, Franklin only had management rights. As my husband and agent, he could exercise management duties on my behalf, but all major decisions and equity changes required my personal signature. His annual salary and bonuses were spelled out in black and white. At the time, Franklin was dazzled by money and beautiful promises of the future. He signed without hesitation. He thought that once we were married, both me and my company would be his. He was too naive. I’ve never believed in love. I only believe in contracts written in black and white. These past ten years, I seemed completely uninvolved, but every financial statement, every board resolution—Jamal organized them all and sent them to me. Every transaction Franklin and Lisa made, I knew about. I knew they worked together to inflate performance numbers, win over shareholders, and hollow out my authority. I even knew they secretly used company funds to register several subsidiary companies under Lisa’s relatives’ names, attempting to transfer assets. I knew everything. The reason I didn’t act was because I was waiting. Waiting for them to make the pie as big as possible. Waiting for them to think they had victory in hand. Then I would take everything back, with interest. Now, the time had come. “Attorney Jamal, they tried to buy me out for ten million.” My tone on the phone was calm and matter-of-fact. Jamal chuckled lightly on the other end. “Sounds like they’ve completely forgotten who they actually are.” “They’ve forgotten. We’ll help them remember.” I said. “What do you need me to do, Ivanka?” “First step: send a lawyer’s letter. Notify the board and all shareholders that effective immediately, I’m revoking all authorization given to Franklin. All company seals—corporate, financial, and contract seals—are to be secured immediately pending handover.” “Second step: file for asset preservation. Freeze all bank accounts belonging to Franklin, Lisa, and their affiliated companies.” “Third step: notify the financial regulators. I’m reporting current CEO Franklin for embezzlement and illegal benefit transfers.” I issued my instructions clearly, one by one. Jamal recorded everything quickly on his end. “Understood. Ivanka, you still have that founding document, right?” “I do.” That was my final trump card. It was what my father left me—the company’s original charter with the highest legal authority. Buried in an inconspicuous additional clause, it stated: Company founder Ivanka possesses veto power over any company resolution. This clause is permanent, unalterable, and cannot be diluted. Franklin and his people always thought I only had that hundred percent equity stake. They didn’t know I also held this card that could flip the entire table. After hanging up, I drove home. To the villa Franklin and I had lived in for ten years. He probably wouldn’t come back tonight. Fine by me. I couldn’t be bothered dealing with him anyway. I walked into the dressing room and retrieved a sealed manila envelope from the safe in the deepest corner. I ran my fingers over the wax seal, my eyes clear and sharp. Dad, I haven’t failed you. I’ll protect what you left me. Anyone who tries to take it will pay the price. The next morning, Attorney Jamal worked with exceptional efficiency. The lawyer’s letters were delivered at maximum speed to every member of the board. Almost simultaneously, court summons and asset freeze orders were served to Franklin and Lisa. I could imagine the ghostly expressions on their faces when they saw those documents. My phone was blown up with calls. Company shareholders. Franklin. Lisa. I didn’t answer a single one. I changed clothes, put on light makeup, and drove to Elena’s art gallery. She was instructing a student in painting when she saw me and raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Well, well, the sun must be rising in the west. You, the ultimate lazy bum, actually got yourself out of the house?” I smiled and sat down on the sofa across from her. “I’m here to tell you some good news.” “What?” “I’m planning to go to work.” Elena’s paintbrush clattered to the floor. She stared at me with wide eyes, her face full of disbelief. “You? Go to work? Do you have a fever?” “No fever.” I picked up the lemon water on the table and took a sip. “Franklin and Lisa want to push me out.” Elena’s expression instantly darkened. She knew those two cheaters were up to no good. “How dare they?!” “They think because I’m lazy, I’m easy to bully.” I set down the glass and looked at her, my eyes filled with unprecedented determination. “So I’ve decided to stop being lazy.” “I’m going to take back my company and make them leave with absolutely nothing.”

Monday morning. Azure Sea Group. The boardroom. Around the long conference table sat the company’s directors and shareholders. Most of these people were confidants Franklin had promoted over the past ten years, or allies he’d bound to himself through mutual interests. At this moment, their expressions were grave as they whispered among themselves. At the head of the table sat Franklin, his face dark, his eyes bloodshot. Beside him, Lisa—serving as his special assistant—also looked haggard, having lost her usual polished competence. Everything that happened last Friday felt like a sudden tsunami to them. Lawyer’s letters. Asset freezes. Reports to regulators. Three strikes, and they were completely blindsided. Franklin couldn’t understand how the woman who had been lying at home for ten years, completely uninvolved with the company, could suddenly become so ruthlessly efficient, every move deadly. He especially couldn’t figure out how she knew about those affiliated companies. Those accounts had been cooked to perfection. “Franklin, what’s going on? Why is Ivanka suddenly revoking your authorization?” A shareholder couldn’t help but speak up, his tone anxious. With the company accounts frozen, several projects had ground to a halt. The stock price was also beginning to fluctuate abnormally. Franklin took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his irritation. “Everyone, don’t worry. This is just a small family dispute between her and me. It’ll be resolved soon.” He tried to reassure them. “A family dispute?” An older director laughed coldly. “A family dispute that needs to be reported to regulatory agencies? Franklin, you’d better give us a reasonable explanation!” This was an old company employee, someone from my father’s generation. Over the past ten years, Franklin had marginalized him until he had no real power left. Seeing this, Lisa quickly said in a soft voice, “Johnson, please don’t be upset. This really is a misunderstanding. Ivanka… she might just be temporarily upset.” “Temporarily upset?” Johnson looked at her. “I think you two have been harboring improper ambitions for far too long!” The boardroom instantly erupted. At that moment, the heavy double doors of the conference room were pushed open from outside. I walked in wearing a sharp white suit, seven-centimeter heels clicking, accompanied by Attorney Jamal in his black suit. Every pair of eyes instantly focused on me. Shock. Confusion. Scrutiny. Hostility. I ignored all those looks and walked straight toward the head of the table. Franklin sat there, staring at me with eyes that seemed ready to spit fire. “Ivanka, what are you doing here?” I didn’t look at him. Instead, I looked at Lisa beside him. “Lisa, is that a seat you’re qualified to occupy?” I said flatly. Lisa’s face went white as a sheet. She stood up reflexively, looking at Franklin helplessly. I walked to the head seat and stopped, my gaze finally landing on Franklin’s face. “This seat isn’t for you either.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it landed like a hammer blow on everyone’s heart. Franklin’s fists clenched instantly, veins bulging on the backs of his hands. “Ivanka, don’t go too far!” “Too far?” I smiled. “Franklin, who gave you the nerve to spend my money, manage my employees, and then try to push me out?” I pulled out the chair and sat down gracefully. Attorney Jamal distributed a stack of documents to every director present. “Ladies and gentlemen, these are Azure Sea Group’s original founding charter and proof of Ivanka’s equity as the company’s sole founder.” “According to corporate law and the group charter, Ivanka possesses one hundred percent of Azure Sea Group’s equity and is the group’s sole legal controller.” Jamal’s voice was steady and authoritative. “Furthermore, according to additional clause three of the charter, founder Ivanka possesses veto power and has final decision-making authority over any group resolution.” Veto power! Those words brought instant silence to the boardroom. Everyone’s eyes widened, their faces written with disbelief. Franklin’s body swayed violently, as if all his strength had been drained. He knew I had majority shares, but he never knew I had this power. This meant that no matter how many shareholders he’d won over, no matter how many allies he had on the board, as long as I disagreed, no resolution could pass. I was this company’s absolute sovereign. I looked with satisfaction at Franklin’s ashen face. “Now, in my capacity as Chairman and sole shareholder of Azure Sea Group, I announce the first resolution.” My gaze swept across the room before settling on Franklin. “Franklin is hereby removed from all positions within Azure Sea Group, effective immediately.” “As of today, all his access privileges are frozen, and a third-party audit firm will conduct an exit audit.” “Until the audit results are available, Franklin may not leave the city.”

As my words fell, the boardroom became deathly silent. Franklin’s eyes instantly reddened, like a cornered beast. “Ivanka! What gives you the right?!” he roared, his voice twisted with rage. “The fact that this company is mine, not yours.” I leaned back in my chair, relaxed but authoritative. “You don’t have that authority! Removing a CEO requires a board vote!” One of Franklin’s loyalist directors stood up, his voice shrill. Attorney Jamal adjusted his glasses and spoke coldly. “According to the company charter, when the Chairman has sufficient reason to suspect the CEO is damaging company interests, she has the right to remove them first and seek board ratification afterward. Moreover, Ivanka possesses veto power. She herself is the board.” The director’s face turned red, unable to say another word. My gaze shifted to him as I tapped lightly on the table. “James, I recall you own a construction materials company that’s the main supplier for several of Azure Sea’s real estate projects?” James broke out in a cold sweat immediately. “I… that’s normal business cooperation…” “Is it?” I picked up a document and waved it in front of him. “In this procurement contract, your company’s pricing is twenty percent above market rate. The profit margin there is enough for you to buy a new car, isn’t it?” James’s legs gave out, and he collapsed into his chair. Around the boardroom, several other members of Franklin’s faction also showed panicked expressions. They hadn’t expected that I, the lazy one, actually knew the company’s inner workings inside and out. I was making an example of them. I wanted everyone to know exactly who called the shots at this company. “And you, Paul.” My gaze turned to another person. “The money for your son’s overseas education—Lisa helped arrange that, didn’t she? Using the company’s overseas accounts.” “You…” Paul’s face also turned deathly pale. Lisa stood to the side, trembling. The way she looked at me was full of fear. She had always thought I was a clueless waste who could be manipulated at will by her and Franklin. Only now did she understand—I wasn’t unaware. I was just waiting. Waiting for them to personally deliver all the evidence to me. Franklin watched as I called out his allies one by one, his expression changing from dark to deathly pale. He finally realized I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I had come for a reckoning. “Ivanka, what exactly do you want?” His voice carried a tremor. “What do I want?” I smiled. “I want to take back what’s mine. That’s all.” I looked at Johnson, who had remained quiet. “Johnson, this company was my father’s life’s work, and yours too. Thank you for these ten years.” Johnson’s eyes reddened as he stood up emotionally. “Ivanka, you’re finally back!” “Yes, I’m back.” I nodded, then looked at everyone, my voice clear and firm. “Now, I announce the second resolution.” “Johnson will temporarily assume the position of Group CEO, responsible for daily operations. At the same time, a special audit team will be formed with Johnson as team leader to thoroughly investigate all company accounts from the past ten years.” “Everyone here, every single one of you—whoever has issues, come forward and explain clearly. Don’t wait for me to throw the evidence in your faces.” My gaze swept like a blade across every guilty director. “Let me be clear: this company doesn’t support freeloaders, and it certainly doesn’t support parasites.” “Now, those who agree with this resolution, raise your hands.” Johnson was the first to raise his hand. Then several neutral shareholders hesitated before raising theirs. Then the directors I’d called out raised their hands, trembling, faces ashen. They knew resistance was futile. I held their lifelines in my hands. Finally, only Franklin remained, sitting there rigidly. He looked at me, his eyes full of resentment, hatred, and a trace of fear. The business empire he’d spent ten years building, thinking it impregnable, had been effortlessly dismantled by me in just one hour. He had lost. Utterly and completely. I didn’t look at him again. I said to Johnson, “Johnson, arrange the handover immediately. Clean out Franklin’s office, and Lisa’s too.” “Yes, Ivanka.” Johnson’s voice was strong and clear. I stood up, preparing to leave. At the door, I stopped and looked back at the dejected Franklin. “Oh, one more thing I forgot to mention.” “The villa we’ve been living in—that’s also in my name. You have three days to move out.” “I’ll have the housekeeper pack your things. As for anything that doesn’t belong to you, don’t even think about taking it.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “366176”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn

The day Payton threw a check in my face, I had just found out I was six weeks pregnant. He sneered at me, his arm wrapped around his sweetheart. “Don’t try to manipulate me with some bastard child.” I smiled and said okay. He didn’t know the child was Dr. Julian’s, the man he looked down on the most. He also didn’t know that the divorce agreement he’d just signed didn’t include a settlement fee, but evidence that would destroy his reputation. Now he’s on his knees in the rain, begging me to come back. I touched my belly and looked at my husband beside me. “Honey, who is this guy?” Senna POV At the end of the private hospital corridor, the wind cut through me like ice. I had just tucked the ultrasound report marked “intrauterine early pregnancy” into my bag when I looked up and met a pair of cold, dark eyes. Payton. A man of overwhelming power and influence. Also the man who had kept me for seven years. Standing beside him was Vivian Shaw. The woman he could never forget. The woman whose return from abroad meant I-the “replacement”-had to pack up and leave immediately. Vivian wore an haute couture snow-white coat. The crocodile leather bag in her hand was worth more than all the “selling price” I’d collected over the past seven years. She leaned against Payton’s side like a delicate vine that needed careful tending. “Senna?” Vivian spoke first, her voice timid, though her eyes concealed daggers. “What a coincidence! Why are you at the OB-GYN? Are you not feeling well?” Payton said nothing. He held an unlit cigarette between his fingers, his narrow eyes slightly narrowed as his gaze swept over my hand instinctively protecting my abdomen like an X-ray. I knew that look too well. Scrutiny, amusement, and condescending contempt from someone high above. “Hand it over.” Payton extended his hand, his voice cold. I gripped my bag strap tightly, trying to keep my voice steady. “Mr. Barrett, that’s my privacy.” “Privacy?” Payton let out a scornful laugh and stepped closer. The oppressive presence of someone used to power instantly enveloped me, making it hard to breathe. “Senna, after being with me for seven years, when have you ever had privacy? Has that ten million dollar settlement made you forget what you really are?” He had no patience and gave a look to the bodyguard behind him. The bodyguard immediately stepped forward and, ignoring my struggle, forcibly grabbed my bag and dumped all the documents inside onto the floor. The ultrasound report fluttered down beside Payton’s polished shoes. He bent down to pick it up. “Six weeks pregnant.” When Payton read those words, his tone was terrifyingly calm, but I saw his fingertips turn white as he gripped the paper. “This timing…” Vivian covered her mouth, looking at Payton with feigned surprise. “Payton, it’s only been three months since Senna left you. This child, could it possibly be yours?” She paused, her eyes immediately reddening, looking like she’d suffered a terrible grievance but was forcing herself to be magnanimous. “If it’s yours, then let’s bring Miss Senna back. After all, it’s a life. I don’t mind…” “Who said I’m taking her back?” Payton coldly interrupted her, his dark eyes fixed deadly on me, with incomprehensible violence churning in their depths. “Senna, you’ve got some nerve.” He threw the report in my face. The sharp edge of the paper sliced across my cheek, stinging painfully. “What did I tell you when we broke up? Take the money, get lost, and don’t get any ideas you shouldn’t have. You think you can force my hand with some bastard child? Look at yourself-do you even deserve it!” Bastard child. Those words were like two nails driven hard into my eardrums. Five years ago, I’d been pregnant once before. Back then, I was so happy and wanted to tell him. What I got in return was his cold “get rid of it.” That’s when I understood-a replacement didn’t deserve to have a child. But I wasn’t the timid Senna from five years ago anymore. I bent down to pick up the report, dusted it off, and raised my eyes to meet his chilling gaze. “Mr. Barrett, you’ve misunderstood.” I curved my lips slightly. “This child has absolutely nothing to do with you.” “It’s my husband’s.”

Senna POV Hearing the word “husband,” a crack finally appeared in Payton’s perpetually icy expression. But he quickly recovered that nauseating arrogance. “Husband?” Payton acted like he’d heard the joke of the year. His tongue pressed against his palate as he let out an extremely contemptuous snort. “Senna, you’ve only been away from me for three months and you’re already this desperate to sell yourself? Who’s blind enough to marry you? Or is this another pathetic lie you’ve made up to raise your value?” In his eyes, I was probably always that gold-digger who would do anything for money, who couldn’t survive without him. “That’s none of Mr. Barrett’s concern.” I didn’t want to keep tangling with him and turned to leave. “Stop.” Payton grabbed my wrist, his grip so strong it felt like he might crush my bones. He yanked me back hard, pressing me against the cold wall, his breath carrying a faint smell of tobacco and biting cold. “Six weeks.” He ground his teeth as he counted the days. “That would be the week before we broke up. I was on a business trip that week, and the night I got back… do you want me to help you remember how many times we did it?” “I don’t believe it’s such a coincidence that you could get pregnant with someone else’s child right after.” I endured the severe pain in my wrist, took a deep breath, and met his sinister gaze. “After that night, I took pills.” Payton’s pupils contracted sharply. “Double dosage. Within 24 hours afterward.” I looked into his eyes, enunciating each word. “Because I knew Mr. Barrett hates trouble most of all, and hates illegitimate children even more. How would I dare leave you with that kind of leverage?” “This child was conceived after I left you, with my current husband. We’re very much in love, and our family planning has gone smoothly.” Payton’s expression visibly darkened, black as the sea before a storm. Seeing this, Vivian immediately came over and tugged at Payton’s sleeve, softly persuading him. “Payton, there are too many people here… Since Miss Senna has said this, maybe it’s true? She has a new life now. We should bless her…” “Bless her?” Payton laughed coldly and shook off Vivian’s hand, his gaze still locked deadly on me. “In this circle, who doesn’t know that Senna is Payton Barrett’s castoff? Who would dare marry her? Senna, do you think I’m dead?” He pulled out his phone and directly called his assistant Jake. “Contact the best paternity testing center. Clear it out in half an hour. I want a paternity test.” After hanging up, he looked down at me like a judge pronouncing a death sentence. “Want to prove your innocence? Then let the evidence speak. If the child isn’t mine, I’ll give you another ten million. Roll away to wherever you want. But if it is…” He paused, his eyes becoming extremely dangerous. “Senna, I’ll make you understand the consequences of deceiving me. The child gets aborted, and that so-called ‘husband’ of yours-I’ll make him disappear from this city completely.” I looked at this man I had loved for seven years, and the last bit of warmth remaining in my heart turned completely cold. “Fine.” I agreed readily. “But Mr. Barrett, I hope you keep your word. If it’s proven the child isn’t yours, please never, ever appear in front of me again.” The moment I finished speaking, a clear, gentle yet firm voice suddenly cut through the tense atmosphere. “No need to wait. You can leave right now.” A warm, broad palm wrapped around my shoulder, rescuing me from Payton’s oppression and protecting me behind him. I looked up to see Julian wearing a white coat with a stethoscope hanging from his chest, looking directly at Payton. “Mr. Barrett, threatening a pregnant woman-is this your idea of manners?”

Senna POV Payton clearly hadn’t expected an actual “husband” to appear. He squinted and sized up Julian from head to toe. Julian was extremely handsome-clean and gentle-looking, completely different from Payton’s sharp, aggressive appearance. Standing there, he was like a pool of water that could embrace everything. “A doctor?” Payton glanced at the name on Julian’s ID badge. “Julian? This is the man you found? Doesn’t look like much. Does his monthly salary even cover one of your bags?” This kind of humiliation came easily to Payton. But Julian wasn’t provoked. He just held my trembling hand tightly, his palm’s warmth flowing steadily. “I certainly don’t earn as much as Mr. Barrett.” Julian smiled faintly, his tone neither servile nor overbearing. “But every penny I earn is clean, and I give it all to Senna. Most importantly, I know how to respect people.” “Respect?” Payton acted like he’d heard a joke, his eyes sweeping over me with contempt. “Ask her. During those seven years with me, did she want respect or money?” I felt Julian’s grip on my hand tighten. “What Senna wanted is in the past.” Julian turned sideways, blocking Payton’s view. “Now, she’s my wife and the mother of my child. Since Mr. Barrett wants a test, then let’s test. We’re not afraid.” The testing center. The atmosphere was oppressively suffocating. Vivian sat on the sofa in the waiting area, holding a cup of hot coffee, her eyes darting back and forth between Julian and me. “Dr. Julian is truly magnanimous.” She took a sip of coffee and sighed as if casually. “Miss Senna made quite a name for herself at the Nightfall club. After being with Payton for so many years… most men would find it hard to accept, wouldn’t they?” She was exposing my past. Years ago, to pay off debts, I had indeed worked as a server at a club. That’s where I met Payton. I felt Julian’s body stiffen slightly. Just as I was about to argue, Julian took the cold water cup from my hand and replaced it with his thermos. “Everyone has a past.” Julian didn’t even give Vivian a glance, just lowered his head to unscrew the cap for me. “Before she met me, that was her suffering. After she met me, I only regret I didn’t appear earlier to protect her.” Vivian’s smile froze on her face like a clown who’d swallowed a fly. And in the distance, Payton was playing with an expensive lighter, his expression so dark it seemed ready to drip water. He stared at Julian fixing my hair and feeding me water, the violence in his eyes growing heavier. Three hours. These were probably the longest three hours of Payton’s life. When the testing center door opened and the doctor walked out with the report, Payton almost instantly crushed his cigarette and strode over. He snatched the report, so roughly he tore the corner. I sat in my chair without moving. Julian held my hand, completely steady. Payton stared deadly at the last line of the report. In that moment, I saw his tall frame sway violently. Payton, who made decisive decisions in the business world, now showed an expression resembling “bewildered helplessness.” “How is this possible…” He muttered to himself, his fingers trembling uncontrollably. Vivian leaned over to look and exclaimed. “Paternity excluded? It really isn’t Payton’s?” She turned to look at me, her expression somewhat embarrassed. “Looks like we misunderstood Miss Senna…” Payton suddenly raised his head. Those eyes that were usually full of arrogance were now bloodshot, churning with shock, doubt, and a barely perceptible… panic. “Impossible.” He bit out through clenched teeth, his voice hoarse. “Senna, you bribed the doctor?” “Mr. Barrett.” I stood up and looked at him coldly. “You chose this testing center. It was cleared out just half an hour ago. Do I have the supernatural ability to fake results right under your nose?” “The fact is, this child has nothing to do with you. He’s Julian’s.” I pulled out a bank card from my bag-the “ten million” he’d just mentioned, and the one he’d thrown at me like alms to a beggar on the day we broke up. I walked up to him and gently placed the card on the nearby table. “Here’s your money back. Payton, we’re even.” Walking out of the testing center, the sunlight outside stung my eyes. Payton didn’t chase after me. But I knew he was still inside, staring at that report and losing his mind. Someone as proud and arrogant as him-how could he accept that something he was so certain about had gone wrong? How could he accept that the plaything who, in his view, couldn’t survive without him, had actually started a new life so decisively? “Tired?” Julian opened the car door and protected my head as I got in. “A little.” I leaned back against the seat and let out a long breath. Julian started the car. He didn’t ask about what had just happened, just played a soothing cello piece. “Senna.” After driving for a while, he suddenly spoke. “Mm?” “No matter what he says, don’t take it to heart.” Julian looked straight ahead, his fingers on the steering wheel slender and strong. “You’re wonderful and deserve to be treated well. That child… if he’s a burden to you, we can also…” “No.” I instinctively protected my abdomen and turned to look at him seriously. “Julian, I’m really looking forward to this child. He’s our family.” Julian glanced at me, gentle affection rippling in his eyes. “Alright, then we’ll take good care of him.”

Payton POV Meanwhile, at the testing center. I kicked over the coffee table in front of me. The sound of shattering glass made Vivian scream and shrink into the corner, not daring to speak. “Get out!” I roared. Vivian’s face went deathly pale. She grabbed her bag and fled in panic. In the huge room, only I remained, surrounded by wreckage. I still clutched that report in my hand. “Paternity excluded…” Every word mocked my presumption. I suddenly remembered that night three months ago. Vivian had returned from abroad that day. To welcome her back, I kicked Senna out. What was Senna doing then? She’d been busy in the kitchen all afternoon, making a table full of my favorite dishes. Because it was her birthday. But what did I say when I got home? I said, “Take the money and get lost.” Senna didn’t cry or make a scene. She didn’t even ask “why.” She just quietly went to her room, packed her things, and disappeared into that snowy, windy night. I always thought Senna was pretending. I thought that after a few days, she would come back crying like before, begging me to forgive her, begging me to let her return. After all, she loved me so much-loved me to the point of having no dignity. But now, the report told me that not only had she left, but on that very night, she’d completely severed all possibilities between us. She took pills. Double dosage. How much did she not want to be pregnant with my child? “Mr. Barrett.” Jake pushed the door open timidly. “I just… just checked. That night after Miss Senna left the villa, she did encounter Julian. Julian had just gotten off his night shift and his car had broken down on the roadside. They… should have met then.” “And then?” I was going insane. “Then… a month later, they went to city hall and got married.” I felt like someone had stabbed my heart and was twisting the knife violently. Married? That woman who was as docile as a cat by my side, who said she only wanted to stay with me for the rest of her life, had turned around and married someone else? “Buy that hospital.” I said. “That guy named Julian-I want to make it impossible for him to work.” Jake broke into a cold sweat. “Mr. Barrett, Julian is an expert in the medical field, and… he seems to be the youngest son of the Reed family. He’s just kept a low profile and never joined the family business…” The Reed family. Although not as powerful as the Barrett family, they definitely weren’t people to be trifled with. I suddenly closed my eyes and crumpled the report into a ball. An unprecedented sense of panic swept over me. I seemed to have… really lost Senna.

Senna POV The next two weeks were eerily calm. Payton didn’t appear again. Julian and I began preparing to move. Julian had applied for a transfer to support development in London for three years. The climate there was perfect for pregnancy and would allow me to completely escape the chaos here. The night before the move, Julian went to the hospital to hand over his work. I packed the last of our belongings alone at home. When I opened a drawer, my movements froze. Inside lay a fountain pen. A limited edition Montblanc, with two letters engraved on the cap. This was Payton’s, left here. In the past, when he was in a good mood, he would occasionally stay overnight at my small apartment. He’d used this pen to sign billion-dollar contracts, then casually tossed it aside. I’d treasured it like a precious object. What a pathetic creature I’d been. I laughed self-mockingly, picked up the pen, and threw it into the trash along with all the photos I’d secretly taken of him over the years and the movie ticket stubs I’d saved. The doorbell suddenly rang. Thinking Julian had forgotten his keys, I wiped my hands and went to answer it. “Why are you back so ear-” I opened the door to a wall of alcohol fumes. The man standing outside had his shirt collar wide open, his hair disheveled, his eyes full of bloodshot veins. His whole being radiated decadent madness. Payton. I instinctively tried to close the door. A large hand slammed against the door panel. “Senna.” He called my name, his voice hoarse and thick, with a pleading I’d never heard before. “My stomach hurts.” I froze. For seven years, whenever he complained of a stomachache, I’d drop whatever I was doing. I’d fetch his medicine and brew him honey lemon tea without a second thought. Even in the middle of the night, even when I was running a high fever. “Mr. Barrett has the wrong door.” I said coldly. “If you want tea, find Miss Shaw, or go to a hospital.” “I don’t want hers!” Payton acted like a petulant child, pushing the door open forcefully and squeezing inside. He staggered to the sofa and collapsed heavily, then closed his eyes and whimpered, “I want yours. Only yours works.” Watching this once untouchable man now acting like a mangy dog on my sofa, I felt only absurdity. “Payton, get up.” I walked over and tried to pull him. “This is my home. Please leave! I’m calling the police!” But Payton grabbed my wrist and yanked hard. I cried out and tumbled onto him. He immediately wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his head in my neck, his burning breath spraying on my skin. “Don’t go… Senna, don’t go…” He was trembling. “I know I was wrong.” Payton’s voice was muffled, with a hint of tears. “That paternity report is fake, isn’t it? You’re lying to me, right? There’s no way you could marry someone else… no way you could stop loving me…” “You love me. You love me so much…” He became incoherent, but his grip grew tighter and tighter, as if trying to meld me into his bones. “Let go! Payton, are you insane!” I struggled desperately. My nails scratched his neck, drawing blood. But he acted like he felt no pain. He suddenly flipped over, pinning me on the sofa, staring at me with unfocused yet obsessive eyes. “Abort the child.” He reached out to stroke my face, his tone gentle in a bone-chilling way. “Abort it, and we’ll pretend nothing happened. I’ll marry you, Senna. I’ll make Vivian leave. I’ll make you Mrs. Barrett, okay?” “I was wrong before. I shouldn’t have treated you as a replacement. I just realized now-I can’t live without you…” He moved to kiss me. Disgusting. Overwhelmingly disgusting. I used all my strength and slapped him hard across the face. The slap was crisp and loud, turning Payton’s face to the side. The air fell deathly silent. “Payton, you truly disgust me.” I pointed at the door, trembling, tears streaming down uncontrollably-not from sadness, but from rage and humiliation. “You think everyone covets that Mrs. Barrett position? Too late!!” Payton slowly turned his head. With half his face red and swollen, his eyes gradually became sinister and crazed. “Disgusting?” He laughed coldly-the roar of a cornered beast. “Senna, since you’re so ungrateful, don’t blame me for…” Just then, the door was kicked open. Before Payton could react, a white figure rushed over. Julian’s face was now covered with frost. He grabbed Payton by the collar and punched him hard in the corner of his mouth. “Don’t touch my wife!”

Senna POV Payton had never been hit like this in his life. Julian looked refined and scholarly, but when he fought, he was shockingly brutal. That punch landed squarely on Payton’s cheekbone, splitting his lip and sending blood dripping down his chin onto the beige carpet. “Ugh…” Payton grunted, the alcohol’s numbing effect dispersed somewhat by the intense pain. He struggled to fight back, but his alcohol-weakened body was limp and powerless. Julian pinned him firmly to the ground. “You dare talk about love?” Julian pressed one knee on Payton’s chest, gripping his tie. “Seven years. You treated her like a housekeeper, like a tool for your desires, like Vivian’s substitute. Now that she doesn’t want you, you come pretending to be deeply in love?” “Payton, you don’t love her. You’re just pathetic.” Every word whipped across Payton’s face like a lash. Payton gasped heavily, staring at Julian with sinister eyes, but his lips curved into a bloody smile. “What do you know… I’m Payton Barrett. She’s mine. As long as I want her, she can’t escape…” “Is that so?” Julian laughed coldly and pulled out his phone, taking a picture of Payton’s wretched face. “If this image of Mr. Barrett gets sent to the board of directors or financial media, I wonder how many points the Barrett family’s stock price will drop tomorrow?” Payton’s expression changed instantly. “You wouldn’t dare!” “You can try me.” Julian stood up and methodically straightened his somewhat disheveled cuffs, returning to his refined, elegant demeanor. “Just because I don’t rely on my family doesn’t mean I don’t have family backing. The Reed family may keep a low profile, but destroying one Payton Barrett who only knows how to throw drunken tantrums is well within our capabilities.” Payton’s pupils contracted sharply. “Get out.” Julian pointed at the door, his voice not loud but carrying undeniable authority. “Don’t make me throw you out.” Payton staggered to his feet. He glanced at me, huddled in the corner of the sofa with tear-stained cheeks but resolute eyes. “Senna…” He opened his mouth, his voice hoarse. “You’re just going to watch him treat me like this?” I looked at him coldly. “Mr. Barrett, attempted home invasion and assault. Julian acted in legitimate self-defense. If you still don’t leave, I don’t mind adding another charge.” The last glimmer of light in Payton’s eyes extinguished. He looked at me deeply, that gaze containing too many complex emotions-unwillingness, regret, anger, and a certain shattered despair. Finally, he said nothing. Covering his injured mouth, he staggered out the door. The moment the door closed, all the strength seemed to drain from my body. I collapsed on the sofa. Julian immediately came over and carefully held me in his arms, avoiding my abdomen. “It’s okay, Senna. It’s okay. I’m here.” His embrace was warm, carrying the reassuring scent of disinfectant and mint. I buried myself in his chest and finally let myself cry out loud. That night, we moved out immediately. Actually, there wasn’t much left. We left all the large furniture and only had two suitcases. Julian called a car, and we drove straight to the airport that night and flew to London. As the plane took off, I looked at the brightly lit city below, feeling only relief. Goodbye, Payton. Goodbye to those absurd, humbling seven years.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “366177”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn

In my past life, my name was Alice. I donated 10 million dollars and supported 101 children. But when I died of stomach cancer at 37, not a single one of those 101 children came to visit me. In this life, the first thing I did when I woke up was throw that sponsorship list into the trash. With the money I had prepared to donate, I bought ten houses in one go before property prices went up. Soon, I saw familiar faces on the screen. Those boys and girls I had sponsored were wiping away tears during media interviews: “Miss Alice promised she would support me through college, but now she’s disappeared. I heard she bought 10 houses.” “Now, we can only drop out and find work.” “I don’t hate her, I just feel hurt inside…” “We just want to ask one question: Miss Alice, we’ve always thought of you as our mother. Are you really this heartless?” I turned off the TV with an expressionless face. The moment I opened my phone, countless messages came flooding in. First text: “Ms. Alice, I’m a reporter from City Hotline. Why did you suddenly stop supporting those 101 underprivileged students? Would you be available for an interview?” Second text: “It’s Leah! Why aren’t you answering your phone? You said you’d support me through college!” Third text: “Ms. Alice, as a well-known philanthropist, you suddenly acquired ten properties but let these children drop out to work. Can you live with your conscience?” Fourth, fifth, sixth… My phone kept buzzing non-stop like it was exploding. At the same time, chaotic footsteps sounded outside my door. From the noise, there had to be at least dozens of people gathered at my doorstep. Through the door, those voices couldn’t wait to drill their way in— “Ms. Alice! Come out and say something!” “Why did you stop the support?” “The children are all kneeling at the TV station entrance. Do you know that?” I closed my eyes. In my past life, I was a selfless, altruistic good person. My husband Andrew and I owned a building materials store. We worked from dawn to dusk, carefully budgeting every expense. The money we earned—very little went to our own household, most of it was donated. Over ten years, we donated more than 10 million dollars and supported 101 children in our region. Many of them we had sponsored since elementary school. I promised them they could study without worry, that I would support them through college. They wrote letters saying they would definitely repay us properly in the future. We kept every single letter, taking them out to read when we couldn’t sleep at night. Every time we read them, we’d be moved to tears. Andrew and I had no children. We didn’t expect the kids to repay us—we just hoped they wouldn’t let poverty limit their futures. Later, Andrew died. During a delivery, his truck overturned. He left behind one sentence—”make sure to take good care of the children”—and was gone. I cried my heart out, and before I could recover, I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer. During that year-plus in the hospital, I lay in my bed waiting for those children to come visit me. Not a single one came. I thought they were busy, that their studies were demanding, that travel expenses were high. I didn’t blame them. Later, when my medical funds ran out, I had no choice but to stop the support payments. That’s when the phone started ringing. “Alice, why hasn’t this month’s living allowance arrived yet?” “Alice, you said you’d support me through college. I’m only a freshman in high school and you’re stopping? Aren’t you screwing me over?” “Ms. Alice, I’m John’s parent. You made a promise back then. Now you just stop without warning? What about our child?” The last call came from a girl named Martha. When I was initially selecting children to sponsor, she had knelt before me, tears streaming down her face, calling me “Mom.” On the phone, she said: “Alice, how long will your treatment take? When you’re better, hurry up and get back to work. So many of us kids are waiting for you.” I hung up and burned all the letters I’d kept under my pillow. Later, a reporter exposed my situation and went to interview those children. Reporter: “Alice is very sick. Won’t you go see her?” One child said: “She promised to support me through college. Now she’s lying in a hospital with no money left. What could I do if I went?” Another child said: “She’s so rich, it’s just treating an illness. Besides, our tuition is nothing, right?” Martha smiled innocently at the camera: “Everyone does things with ulterior motives. What she’s after—I won’t say it, but you can probably guess, right?” I turned off the TV. With my remaining money insufficient for treatment, I was discharged and went home to lie in the bed Andrew had slept in, enduring one day after another. The night I died was New Year’s Eve. Outside my window, everything was lively and festive. I stared at the ceiling and said: “If I could do it all over again—” “I would love myself first.” God blessed me. I was truly reborn.

I was reborn at age 33, when Andrew was still alive and our family was still relatively well-off. Defying fate isn’t easy. That afternoon, I almost couldn’t make it out of my apartment complex. A dark mass of people knelt below my building. About a hundred children in school uniforms, holding banners. “Alice, we need you.” “Alice, don’t abandon us.” Kneeling at the very front was Martha. She held a megaphone, crying out tearfully: “Alice, you said you’d support me through college. Have you forgotten?” Beside them stood countless reporters, all their cameras aimed at the window of my apartment. The moment I stepped out of my building, I heard a crying shout— “Alice!” Martha crawled forward on her knees several steps, then threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my legs. “Alice, please don’t abandon us! You said we were your children! You said you’d support us forever!” Her tears smeared across my pants, ice-cold. Behind her, those 100 children all started crying in unison. The sound was deafening. Security guards tried to intervene but were blocked by reporters. All around me, cameras and phone lenses everywhere. Some were livestreaming, some were wiping away tears, and others whispered: “So pitiful. How can this woman be so heartless?” I looked down at Martha. This face was exactly the same as in my past life. In my past life, she also knelt before me like this, crying, saying she would take care of me in my old age. Then when I was dying, she told the camera: “Everyone does things with ulterior motives.” I reached out and peeled her fingers off my pants one by one. “Alice!” She clung desperately. I peeled off the last finger. I crouched down, looking straight into her eyes. “Martha, how old are you now?” She paused: “Seventeen.” “Seventeen.” I nodded. “That’s not young anymore.” I paused, then said word by word: “Everyone does things with ulterior motives. What you’re after now—you don’t have to say it. I can guess.” Her face froze. I stood up, walked around Martha, and moved forward. Behind me, Martha suddenly burst into loud sobs: “Alice! You can’t do this! You promised us! You can’t go back on your word!” Those children all cried along with her, even louder than before. Someone started chanting: “Alice, come back! Alice, come back!” Phone cameras followed me, comments flooding in. “What kind of person is this? So many children kneeling and she won’t even look back?” “Too cold-blooded. I used to like her posts!” “Ten houses and she won’t donate even one. I knew her charity was fake all along!” “Alice, can you sleep at night?” Reporters’ cameras were practically in my face, mouths opening and closing, all asking why I stopped the support. Seeing no way to avoid them, I simply stopped and greeted the reporters openly. “Yes, I’ve decided to stop the sponsorships.” “As for the reason, it’s my private matter. I won’t discuss it here.” “But I believe there are more good people in this world than bad. Like all of you—you could easily take over supporting these children.” “You’re all so kind. I believe that even without me, these children will definitely be able to complete their education successfully, right?” I smiled as I looked at these seemingly kind and righteous people. Seeing me redirect the conversation, the reporters immediately fell silent, no longer daring to press me with questions. I seized the opportunity to push through the reporters and quickly made my way to the complex entrance. A car was parked by the roadside. The window rolled down—it was Andrew.

He looked at me, eyes red. “Alice, I saw everything.” His voice was choked. “Those children… they’re so pitiful. Haven’t we always been supporting them? Why did we suddenly…” I opened the car door and got in. Andrew turned his head: “Didn’t we say before that we don’t expect them to repay us, we just hope they’ll be well…” “I changed the bank card password,” I said. He froze. “What?” “Those two bank cards at home—I changed the passwords.” I looked straight ahead. “If you want to withdraw money, you have to ask me.” “Alice, you—” I sighed: “Andrew, I had a very realistic dream. So realistic that I believe it will definitely happen.” “In the dream, you died, and I got cancer. I lay in the hospital for over a year, and not one of those 101 children came to see me. When I stopped the support payments, they called to pressure me, telling me to hurry up and get better so I could go out and earn money. They even said on TV that I had ulterior motives. In the end, I died alone at home on New Year’s Eve. All by myself.” He was stunned. “Andrew,” I said wearily, “in this life, let’s love ourselves first.” He stared at me with his mouth open, looking confused, unable to speak for a long time. Outside the window, a huge advertising screen was playing the news— “Well-known philanthropist Alice abandons 101 underprivileged children. Children kneel in the street begging her to come back…” Many people on the street were looking up at the news. Someone shouted: “Alice, may you die a terrible death!” Immediately, a chorus of voices echoed the sentiment. I let out a cold laugh. The online harassment spread like wildfire. For several days straight, downstairs was packed with people. “Alice! Get out here!” “Bastard!” “What kind of philanthropist? Just a fraud!” Someone threw eggs at my window, the yolk dripping down the glass. Someone spray-painted my door with red paint: “Fake charity worker, real vampire.” Others held up banners: “Punish this unscrupulous businesswoman, give the children justice!” I looked down through a crack in the curtains and saw Martha still standing at the front of the crowd, tears streaming down her face as she gave interviews. “We never wanted her to give us a lot of money. We just want to know why she suddenly doesn’t want us anymore.” Next to her, a boy cried heartbreakingly: “She bought ten houses but makes us drop out to work! My sister is only in middle school, and she has to work in a factory now!” The crowd exploded. “Call the police! Arrest her!” “People like this should be socially destroyed!” “Smash up her house!” Without warning, a fairly large rock smashed through my window, glass shards nearly hitting my eyes. Andrew stood in front of me, his face pale: “Alice, let’s call the police.” I shook my head. What good would calling the police do? They were just a group of “poor,” “helpless,” “betrayed” children. The next day, things got worse. Someone posted my home address online, along with the location of Andrew’s building materials store. By the time I got there, I heard someone in the crowd shout: “Smash it!” Before the words had faded, a baseball bat had already shattered the glass door. The crowd surged in like a tide. Shelves toppled, tiles broke, the cash register was flipped over. Someone even set fire to the advertising sign at the entrance, black smoke billowing. Honest Andrew rushed in with red eyes trying to stop them, but was pushed to the ground. People spat on him, kicked him with their feet. In that moment, blood rushed to my head. But I didn’t rush forward. Instead, I took a step back, retreating to the edge of the crowd, and opened a livestream on my phone.

I aimed the camera at the fire, at the scene of the store being destroyed, at Andrew being trampled underfoot. The comments scrolled frantically: “What’s happening here?” “This is violence, right?” “Has anyone called the police?” “It’s that Alice woman’s store!” “Beat her good! Make this fake do-gooder lose everything!” I stared at the screen, my voice calm with a slight tremor: “Hello everyone, I’m Alice. What you’re seeing now is my husband being attacked.” “For three days, my front door has been vandalized, my store has been besieged, my husband has been trampled on the ground. And all of this is because I stopped supporting 101 children.” “So far, I’ve supported them for three years, totaling about 2 million dollars, with transfer records for every transaction.” “As for why I suddenly stopped the support, I didn’t want to say this—” I pulled out several pieces of paper from my pocket and unfolded them in front of the camera. It was a medical examination report. Dated five days ago. In the diagnosis section, in black and white: Malignant stomach tumor, mid-stage. In my past life, by the time I learned I had stomach cancer, it was already late-stage. After being reborn, the first thing I did was go to the hospital for a checkup. “I stopped the support because I also need money for treatment. I didn’t want to make this public to avoid worrying everyone. But now, I have no choice but to tell you.” “I also want to continue supporting the children’s education and living expenses, but my body won’t allow it. My husband’s health isn’t good either. Our treatment costs will be a significant, perhaps ongoing expense.” By the end, I was crying openly. The comments went crazy: “Wait… stomach cancer?” “She didn’t say this before!” “If she’s sick, of course she needs money for treatment!” “Those people forced her to donate and pushed her to this?” “Wait, if she’s sick why didn’t she say so? If she had, who would criticize her?” “If she said something, wouldn’t she be accused of playing the victim?” “So for three days she’s been cyberbullied and never explained?” Seeing my goal achieved, I turned off the stream. In the distance, police sirens grew closer, and the situation was finally brought under control. Police began registering identities and taking away the ringleaders. I helped Andrew back home. He was amazed to discover that the children who had been coming every day to make a scene had vanished. Only reporters remained, staking out the area. When they saw us, instead of the previous hostility, they showed concern and sympathy: “Ms. Alice, when did you first learn about your stomach problems?” “Ms. Alice, how are you feeling now? What are your plans for treatment?” Andrew’s mouth hung open in shock. Back home, he hugged me tightly. “Alice, when did you get a checkup? Why didn’t you tell me?” “I didn’t want you to worry.” I patted his back. “It’s okay. It’s not late-stage. It can be treated.” When I opened my phone again to check the related news, just as I expected, the online opinion that had been one-sidedly criticizing me had reversed. A senior commentator even wrote an in-depth article specifically about this, stating: “Donating is a favor, not donating is within one’s rights.” “Is this really an unscrupulous businesswoman faking charity, or ungrateful children engaging in donation extortion!?” “Let us wait and see. Waiting for the reversal.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “366178”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn

In three years of marriage, I had been punished by Frederick Ashton one hundred times. Every single time was because I went to see my terminally ill brother, Marcus. He said Marcus and I were having an affair, forcing me to kneel in the snow and locking me in the basement. Until that night, when I walked to the bedroom door carrying a glass of warm milk, I found him in bed with his adopted sister, Felicity. “I married Vivian just to cover up our relationship, didn’t I?” It turned out he’d known all along that Marcus and I were innocent. He was simply using my suffering to protect the person he truly cherished. The next day, I handed him divorce papers. He had no idea I possessed evidence of his crimes. Vivian’s POV I was only five minutes late coming home, yet my husband stripped me naked and forced me to kneel in the snow as punishment. The cold wind cut through me like knives as I looked up at Frederick Ashton standing on the steps in his black coat, his gaze sharp as a blade. “There’s nothing between Marcus and me. Why won’t you believe me?” Frederick looked at me coldly, his eyes devoid of anger, only calm. “Kneel here for twelve hours, and I’ll believe you.” Kneeling in the snow at ten degrees below zero for twelve hours would kill me, or at least cripple me for life. Yet I slowly straightened my body. “Understood. I’ll prove my innocence.” I’d always known Frederick had trust issues. In three years of marriage, I’d endured ninety-nine punishments from him-slaps across the face, confinement in the basement… And today was the hundredth time. Every single time was because I had visited Marcus. Marcus, the brother who had raised me from childhood. We weren’t blood-related. Two children who’d grown up together, relying on each other. Marcus treated me as his little sister, and he was my only family. But Frederick still couldn’t accept it. He forbade me from calling Marcus my brother and forced me to cut off contact with him. But Marcus was sick now. Terminal stomach cancer. He was only five years older than me, and when we were children, he’d rather starve himself than let me go without that last piece of bread. I couldn’t abandon him. The snowy ground was damp and freezing. I trembled from the cold. Then I suddenly remembered I hadn’t brought Frederick his nightly glass of warm milk yet. After years of marriage, this habit was carved into my bones. Frederick had once held me close and said, “Without milk, I can’t sleep well at night.” Heating up a glass of milk and then coming back to kneel should be fine, right? So I crawled out of the snow and went to the kitchen. But when I reached the bedroom door carrying the milk, I heard two voices coming from inside. “Being able to hold you while I sleep, this is what I’ve dreamed of.” “Silly girl. Why do you think I married Vivian, if not for this?” My heart clenched. I nearly dropped the glass of milk, then immediately clamped my hand over my mouth. What did I just hear? Frederick was actually sleeping in the same bed with his adopted sister, Felicity Ashton! Just like Marcus and me, Felicity had been adopted by the Ashton family as a child and grew up with Frederick. Frederick was incredibly indulgent toward his sister. Even after our marriage, he’d moved her into his villa, her room separated from ours by just a single wall. I never could have imagined, even in my wildest nightmares, that Frederick and Felicity were involved! I bit down hard on my lip. Then Felicity’s voice came again from inside the room. “What if Vivian discovers us someday?” “She won’t.” Frederick’s voice was decisive. “She’s too busy proving her innocence with Marcus. She doesn’t have time to pay attention to us.” “So you’re deliberately making her suspicious?” “Yes.” Frederick gave a soft laugh. “I’ve always known she and Marcus only have ordinary sibling affection. She’s incredibly naive. I’m the only one in her heart. Otherwise she wouldn’t have cried when I proposed… Besides, given how much she loves me, even if she found out, she’d never leave me.” I felt a metallic sweetness in my throat. My heart felt like it was being stabbed with needles, throbbing with pain. Three years. How many times had I knelt on the ground swearing that Marcus and I were innocent? Even when I stripped naked, Frederick only called me filthy. And now I discovered he’d been doing it deliberately all along! This was too much! Too humiliating! I left the villa and found the nearest law office to draft divorce papers. Afterward, I went to the hospital. Marcus’s business partner and friend, Julian, was just leaving the hospital room. He looked surprised to see me. “Vivian, didn’t you just go home? Why are you back?” “I’m worried about Marcus.” I sniffled and forced a smile. “Julian, don’t worry about me. I’ll just sit here for a while.” “That won’t do. The hallway’s freezing. Here, take this.” Julian handed me a warm cup of coffee, accidentally touching my hand. He immediately frowned. “Why are you so cold?” Without another word, he took off his wool coat and draped it over my shoulders. The sudden warmth made me unable to suppress the ache in my nose any longer. Tears broke through like a dam. In this world, only Marcus cared about me. Only his friend would show me concern! Julian looked flustered when he saw me cry. I quickly wiped away my tears. “Julian, can you help me investigate something?”

Vivian’s POV “As long as you stop crying, anything!” What I wanted to know wasn’t anything else-it was about Frederick and Felicity! Four years ago, Marcus and I had barely managed to work our way through college. To give me a better life, Marcus borrowed money from his friend Julian to start a business. In just one year, Marcus became a rising star in the business world, and my life completely changed along with his. At a gala, I met Frederick Ashton, heir to the Ashton family. He fell in love with me at first sight. After three months of passionate pursuit, we got married. Our married life seemed peaceful on the surface, but I knew almost nothing about Frederick’s past! Soon, Julian’s investigation completely shattered my last shred of hope. It turned out that after the Ashton family adopted Felicity, she and Frederick grew up together. As adults, they fell in love with each other. To be with Felicity, Frederick was even willing to defy his entire family. After a year of deadlock, the Ashton family compromised, but with conditions. Felicity could stay by Frederick’s side, but could never be made public. And Frederick had to marry a “suitable wife” within three months to maintain appearances. And I was the carefully selected cover they chose. How ironic. Frederick constantly accused me of impropriety with Marcus, yet the ones truly betraying our marriage were him and his “sister”! I sat in the hospital corridor all night, occasionally dozing off, only to be jolted awake by nightmares. In my dreams, I returned to the orphanage when I was five years old. A sweet-smiled girl led other children to isolate me, using razor blades to shred my clothes. They surrounded me with mockery, calling me shameless. At the end of the dream, I heard them call her Felicity! I frantically flipped through the documents Julian had given me. Sure enough, I found a small note in the corner: Felicity, before being adopted by the Ashton family, came from Red Rose Orphanage. I bit my lip hard. So the person who bullied me as a child was Felicity. And the one who stole my husband as an adult was still her! “Vivian.” A cold voice suddenly rang out. It was Frederick. He approached step by step, his face dark as he gripped my wrist. “Come with me.” “I’m not going!” I confronted him. Frederick’s eyes flashed dangerously, and his grip tightened, nearly crushing my bones! Just then, the hospital room door opened. Marcus’s pale, weak face appeared in the doorway. “Vivian, what’s wrong?” Frederick lowered his voice threateningly. “Are you sure you want me to punish you here?” No… not in front of Marcus! I squeezed my eyes shut. “Fine, I’ll go with you.” His arm was like a steel clamp as he roughly dragged me and threw me into the restroom. The next second, the faucet was turned on. Frederick grabbed the back of my neck and shoved my face violently into the water! For a full seven minutes, I nearly suffocated. He pulled me up, his voice cold as ice. “This is for leaving without permission last night.” Then he shoved my head into the water again! “This is for sneaking off to see your brother.” When he finally released me, I was soaked through, coughing violently from choking, yet I laughed. “Frederick, why?” His eyes darkened. “What did you say?” “I said why can you see your sister whenever you want, but I can’t see my brother? Who’s the one with the real problem here?!” Frederick seemed to freeze for a moment, his expression softening slightly. But just then, a saccharine voice cut in. “Vivian, you’re getting bolder and bolder. How dare you speak to my brother that way?” Felicity walked over gracefully and intimately linked her arm through Frederick’s. “The servants said she didn’t even kneel for the required time last night. She completely ignored your orders!” Her way of fanning the flames was exactly like when we were children. In that moment, I finally confirmed that Felicity had recognized me long ago. She was doing this deliberately! But before I could speak, Frederick’s slap had already struck me hard!

Vivian’s POV I covered my burning face, tasting blood in my mouth, and collapsed to the ground, all strength leaving my body. Frederick looked at me coldly, signaling two bodyguards to lift me up and roughly drag me toward his sports car. A coarse hemp rope wrapped around my wrists as he said coldly, “This is the price for running away last night. Run behind the car all the way back.” The engine roared and the sports car shot forward! I stumbled a few steps before being dragged to the ground. The rough pavement scraped against my skin. I struggled desperately, but the car was going too fast-I couldn’t stand up at all. Suddenly, a hard brake! Crack! Sharp pain shot through my wrist as I screamed. The car finally stopped. I thought he might soften, but Frederick only untied the rope and bound my other hand. “A broken hand can be set. Pain teaches lessons.” He said it expressionlessly. My heart died completely. “So much sweat. Are you too hot?” Felicity’s sweet voice rang out. “Frederick, why don’t you have her take off a few layers?” Before I could react, my coat was torn off, leaving my chest exposed to the freezing air! I clutched my last piece of clothing desperately, my voice trembling. “Frederick Ashton, must you humiliate me in public?” Felicity was unconcerned. “Don’t worry, there’s no one around in the suburbs.” I stared at Frederick. He suddenly looked away. “…Felicity, she is still my wife. If word gets out, it’s the Ashton family’s reputation that suffers.” Just as I held onto my last shred of hope, he turned back to me with a cold smile. “Keep one piece to cover yourself. Remember, this is my mercy.” The engine roared again. I was dragged once more, my skin torn raw and bloody until I finally fell into darkness. When I woke, I was lying in the villa’s bed. Frederick wasn’t there. Only Felicity sat at the bedside peeling an apple. She leaned close, her smile sweet. “Can you do Frederick a favor?” “What?” She handed me a document. “Just sign this and Frederick can secure that contract. You should know… who’s more important, right?” The moment I saw the contents, all the blood in my body froze. She wanted me to falsely accuse Marcus of long-term sexual assault against his own sister! “Go to hell!!” Rage consumed my reason. I lunged forward and grabbed her throat! The door burst open. Frederick rushed in, yanked me away, and slammed me to the floor! “You bitch! How dare you touch Felicity?!” Felicity burst into tears. “I only asked her to sign, and she…” “Hold down her hand,” Frederick commanded coldly. “Make her sign it!” “No! You can’t!!” The servants pinned me down as the pen scratched across paper-a sound like a knife cutting. I screamed in collapse. “Frederick Ashton! I want a divorce!!” But no one listened. Felicity suddenly vomited blood and fainted. Frederick panicked and scooped her up. “Felicity!” “The apple…” she said weakly, pointing toward the bedside table. “From her room…”

Vivian’s POV I was thrown into the basement. Pitch darkness surrounded me. The damp air made my wounds throb with dull pain. The door opened. Frederick stood before me, looking down from above. “Hand over the antidote.” I moved my broken fingers. “I told you, I didn’t poison anyone. What antidote?” He crouched down and grabbed my chin viciously. “Vivian, you’ve been defying me lately. Is it because of your brother?” Before he finished speaking, his iPad lit up with a video- In a familiar hospital room, Marcus was being held down by men in black, coughing violently, blood staining his blue hospital gown. On his right side, an opened bottle of poison sat quietly. I immediately began to struggle. “Frederick Ashton! What right do you have to touch Marcus? He’s my last living relative!” “Because you touched Felicity!” His eyes were ice-cold and piercing. “Anyone who touches her must die.” He leaned in close. “Will you obediently hand over the antidote, or let Marcus drink that bottle?” Marcus had stomach cancer. Drinking that would be a death sentence. I finally stopped struggling. “…Let him go, and I’ll give you the antidote.” Frederick turned off the video with satisfaction. I slowly stood up. “I don’t have an antidote, but I can pay with my life.” With that, I grabbed scissors and stabbed them toward my heart! In the last second before darkness fell, I saw Frederick rush toward me in horror, my body falling into a trembling embrace. “Vivian!” I heard people talking near my ear. “I’m sorry… I just had food poisoning, but I wrongly accused her of poisoning me…” “Food poisoning makes you vomit blood?” “I don’t know either… maybe I was injured somewhere?” Felicity’s voice choked up. “Are you blaming me? She could have explained herself…” “I don’t blame you.” Frederick frowned. “She deliberately opposed me.” “Don’t blame her anymore.” Felicity took his hand. “Go rest. I’ll take care of her.” “Alright.” I woke again two days later. I threw back the covers, ready to get out of bed. This wasn’t my home. I had to leave. But Felicity blocked my way. “Vivian, I’m sorry!” I pushed past her and kept walking. Would someone like her ever repent? I didn’t believe it. But the next second, her words pinned me in place like nails- “Marcus is dead!” She put on a regretful expression. “That day Frederick ordered them to release him, but unfortunately… after the news about Marcus molesting you spread, reporters stormed the hospital. In the chaos, someone forced the drug down his throat.” She waved her phone. “He only managed to leave you a few words before he died. There wasn’t even time to try to save him.” She added cheerfully, “But he had terminal stomach cancer anyway. He was going to die sooner or later. Don’t be too sad.” All strength instantly drained from my body. Marcus, who had been so spirited just months ago, was now emaciated and being held down. “Vivian, I’m sorry for dragging you down… From now on, even without someone to love you, you must love yourself well.” He smiled as he closed his eyes. Even as the poison burned through his organs, he didn’t cry out in pain once. I played the video on loop, tears splattering on the ground. I knelt there trembling. “I’m the one who dragged you down… It’s always been me dragging you down…” “That’s right, he didn’t have to die.” Felicity suddenly agreed. “So strange. I was the prettiest of all those kids at the orphanage, yet the family chose you.” She lowered her voice. “Do you know why the car that came to take you home had brake failure? That was the price for them abandoning me.” That year, a family came to the orphanage to adopt. They had originally chosen Felicity. But just as they were leaving, the mother noticed me in the corner and changed her mind at the last minute. On the return trip, the brakes failed. The car crashed into a fuel tanker and burst into flames. Marcus and I climbed out the window, but our parents were burned alive inside. It turned out… it was never an accident! My hands trembled. Hatred gnawed at my nerves. I wanted nothing more than to drag her down to hell with me right then! I forwarded the video to my own phone and slapped her hard across the face. “Felicity, I will make you pay.”

Vivian’s POV I was about to step out of the villa when a cold voice suddenly came from behind. “Stop.” I turned around to see Frederick with his arm around Felicity, his fingers gently stroking her cheek, though his gaze fell coldly on me. No need to guess-Felicity must have complained to him. I straightened my spine. “What, here to get even for her? Will you slap me, or make me kneel?” “About your brother, I’m very sorry.” Frederick stared at my pale face, a flash of complicated emotion in his eyes. “But don’t worry, I’ll personally hold a memorial service for him and let him be buried with dignity.” I laughed mockingly. What was this? A slap followed by candy, and everything’s supposed to be fine? Seeing my silence, Frederick seemed to lose patience, coldly dropping one line. “The internet is in an uproar over your brother’s case right now. Don’t go out alone. Tomorrow morning, I’ll take you and Felicity to the memorial together.” I believed him. But the next day, I waited from eight in the morning until eleven-and never saw a trace of Frederick! In the end, I had to take a taxi there myself. When I arrived, I discovered the memorial hall was completely empty! This was his idea of a “dignified burial”? I smiled bitterly. I should have known better than to hold any expectations of him. The eulogy, the moment of silence, kowtowing… I completed every ritual alone. The urn was small, yet holding it felt unbearably heavy, crushing me until I couldn’t breathe. Just as the burial was about to begin, the sound of deafening fireworks suddenly erupted outside. Felicity pushed open the doors and announced loudly to a crowd of reporters, “This is Marcus’s memorial service. Everyone’s welcome to pay their respects!” My heart sank. Before I could react, I was surrounded by a swarm of reporters, countless cameras aimed at my face. “Miss Vivian, Marcus molested you. Why are you still attending his memorial?” “How long did he molest you? When did it start?” “Miss Vivian, don’t you hate Marcus? Or were you a willing participant?” My lips trembled. I couldn’t get a single word out. Marcus was already dead… How could I let him bear such slander even after death? “Enough!” I shouted, cutting them off. I pushed through the reporters and grabbed Felicity by the arm. “My brother never molested me! He was innocent! Felicity Ashton forced me to sign that complaint. Everything was her doing!!” Before I could finish, the belatedly arriving Frederick kicked me in the chest, violently cutting me off. “Gentlemen, today’s events have nothing to do with my sister.” He swept a cold glance across the reporters. “As for the rest, do as you please.” I slammed heavily into the coffin, the urn hitting the ground, ashes scattering everywhere! I screamed hoarsely, ignoring the sharp pain in my chest, desperately trying to gather those ashes. But the reporters paid no attention. Their feet trampled through the ashes, crushing them without care. “Mr. Ashton truly dotes on his sister!” “Having a brother like that must be wonderful! Now look at Marcus-a good person on the surface, but molesting his own sister behind closed doors. Absolute scum!” “Vivian, you have a husband like Mr. Ashton and you don’t cherish him. Instead you have an affair with your brother behind his back. Absolutely shameless!” Their words were like knives, carving into my heart one by one. I looked up at Frederick, only to see him holding Felicity tenderly, asking in a low voice if she was hurt. He was indeed a good brother. But he didn’t deserve to be my husband. Blood dripped onto the ground, mixing with the ashes. I finally couldn’t hold on. My vision went black and I passed out. Before losing consciousness, I seemed to hear Frederick’s panicked roar. “Get away! If anything happens to my wife, none of you will escape!” Was he… actually worried about me?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “366179”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance