Category: English

Seven years after the breakup, I was stopped at the entrance of an ultra-exclusive private gala—by my ex. He looked immaculate in his tailored suit, his smile laced with pity and mockery. “I didn’t expect you to fall so low,” he said. “Sneaking into events like this now?” Before I could respond, he had already rewritten my past for me— the woman who gave up her future for him, the woman mocked by the elite, the woman he personally discarded when she was no longer useful. Just as he signaled for security to escort me out, the hosts rushed over. They double-checked the guest list in front of everyone, lowered their voices, and apologized. Because tonight, I was the only guest personally invited by the board. I promised to transfer schools with my bullied boyfriend, but the day before we were supposed to finalize the papers, he backed out. His friend joked, “Seriously, dude? All that fake bullying just to get Olivia Parker to leave?” “But you’re her boyfriend. Are you really going to let her go to a new school all alone?” Carter Brooks shrugged, his voice indifferent. “It’s just another school in the same city. How far could it be?” “I’m tired of her clinging to me all the time. This works out perfectly.” The moment I heard the truth, my heart violently shuddered. For the past month, Carter had been ganged up on and falsely accused too many times to count. I tried my best to protect him from harm, but there were always slip-ups. Finally fed up, I suggested he transfer schools. Carter had just been drenched in ice water, his handsome face pale and pitiful. He helplessly clutched my hand. “Olivia, I’m scared to go to a new environment alone.” Carter and I had practically grown up together. We’d been walking to and from school together since kindergarten, a routine that hadn’t changed in over a decade. Besides, I secretly had a crush on him. So, in a rush of emotion, I promised him, “Don’t be afraid. Wherever you go, I’ll go with you.” But only now did I realize that everything he’d done was an elaborate charade just to get rid of me. I couldn’t help but wonder, did Carter Brooks really hate me that much? The voices in the private room continued, “Olivia Parker is completely devoted to you, you know.” “Aren’t you afraid she’ll fall for someone else if you send her to another school?” “Her?” Carter scoffed, as if he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. “She dared to break up a group beating for me. She got beaten black and blue, didn’t back down an inch, and you think she’d change her mind about me?” Someone whispered, “But what if she does? Olivia Parker isn’t the type to be pushed around.” Carter’s voice was lazy. “There’s no ‘what if.’ There are plenty of rich guys at this school. When have you ever seen her even look at anyone else?” His voice couldn’t help but be tinged with contempt. “All she does is follow me around. Even a lapdog isn’t as clingy as she is.” Harsh laughter filled the room, feeling like a slap across my face. I wanted to leave, but my feet felt rooted to the spot, making me listen, and making me ache. Someone clicked their tongue in surprise. “First time I’ve seen someone actively push away a girl who’s head over heels for them. I gotta hand it to you, man.” “But if you don’t like Olivia Parker being so clingy, why don’t you just tell her? Olivia doesn’t seem like the type to beg or chase you.” Carter ‘tsk’ed, growing impatient. “Olivia Parker’s too… assertive. If I just told her directly, it wouldn’t be easy to get her to leave.” He changed the subject. “Besides, Maya gets so insecure and sad whenever she sees her. She only feels better when I’m around.” “For Maya’s sake, I had no choice but to do this. Olivia will just have to be inconvenienced for a while.” At that, everyone instantly understood. Doing the math, Carter decided to fake being bullied exactly one week after Maya Foster transferred to our school. Someone laughed and cursed Carter. “You sly dog, you fell for the sweet, innocent act the second she showed up?” “But Maya really is genuinely delicate and charming, with a fragile personality. It’s only natural for a man to be attracted to her.” “Not like Olivia Parker. Her personality is so stern, always wearing a cold face and keeping everyone at arm’s length. Doesn’t matter how pretty she is.” The unrestrained comments about me surged like waves, one after another, in the private room. And Carter Brooks, who I’d secretly liked for years, didn’t stop them, didn’t refute them, and even agreed with them now and then. Standing outside the door, my heart sank heavily into an abyss, feeling empty and numb, yet aching with a dull pain. For a moment, I wanted to open the door and loudly confront Carter. Ask him why he lied to me. Ask him if he ever felt a flicker of guilt or compassion, watching me get beaten for protecting him. Ask him if he ever thought about our decade-plus friendship when he did all of this. But then my mother’s words echoed in my ears: Don’t do anything unnecessary. People don’t just rot overnight. I turned and left that private room.

A creeping ache, one I only fully registered later. I wouldn’t have been this upset normally; it would have just been a friend’s betrayal, no big deal. But that line, the one that kept us just “friends,” Carter was the first to cross it. The day I decided to transfer schools with Carter, he took me to a bar to celebrate our “freedom” with a drink. The dim, intimate lighting enveloped us. I looked at the person I had secretly liked for years, feeling a little dazed. So, when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t resist. Years of suppressed feelings surged wildly to the surface. Unable to control my emotions, I couldn’t help but ask for confirmation, “Carter, what are we now?” Carter affectionately kissed my forehead again. “Silly girl, what other relationship could it be?” Cheers erupted in the private room, the atmosphere electric, mirroring the burgeoning passion within me. I never imagined that just two days later, I’d hear Carter himself shatter my one-sided affection. I smiled, but tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. So that ambiguous rhetorical question, that was also just Carter trying to trick me and get me to leave quickly for Maya, right? The wind chimes in my bedroom tinkled, slowly drying my tears. My broken heart slowly pieced itself back together. Carter was wrong. He was the illegitimate son of the Brooks family, and I was the sole heiress of the Parker family. We truly shouldn’t be so intertwined. Because we were a mismatch. The transfer application in my hand was soaked with my tears, the ink bleeding, making it messy and unreadable. But it didn’t matter. This one was ruined; I’d just get a clean one. The Parker family never lacked options. I reprinted a new form. But when it came to the “transfer to school” section, I called my mother. “Mom, that international high school you mentioned wanting me to attend, which one was it?” “Yes, I’ll go alone.” The wind chimes in my room made a clear, melodious sound, as if celebrating for me. I gently closed my eyes. This time, it wasn’t Carter Brooks’s face that appeared before me. A man who bore a faint resemblance to Carter, but was far more handsome and striking, smiled at me, with the same certainty and earnestness as two years ago. “Olivia Parker, sooner or later, you’ll give up on Carter Brooks and choose me.” Back then, I thought he was joking. Now, I silently repeated to myself: Carter Brooks, I really don’t want you anymore. After filling out the new application form, I let out a long breath, my heart already quietly calm. The knock on my bedroom door suddenly startled me. I froze. I lived alone in this house. The only person who knew the password was… I opened the door and, sure enough, saw Carter Brooks’s face. His voice was as gentle as ever. “Olivia, you haven’t come to say goodbye to our friends for a long time. I was worried about you.” I tried to keep my voice calm. “I’m not feeling so well, so I’m not going.” Just as I was about to dismiss him, my peripheral vision caught an unexpected figure. Maya Foster’s petite figure huddled next to Carter, and she flinched the moment our eyes met. Carter, attentive to her every move, immediately pulled her loosely into his embrace. “Olivia, you scared Maya.” It was always like this. Maya always put on this fragile demeanor, as if she was afraid I’d bully her, making me out to be some evil villain. But I hadn’t done anything. My expression turned cold. “I told you, I don’t like people coming to my house.” Carter frowned slightly, annoyed. “Maya isn’t an outsider.” “Besides, she only came because she was worried about you.” Before I could argue, Maya’s eyes suddenly welled up. “Olivia, I’m so sorry. I know you’ve always had a problem with me because I don’t come from as much, but I promise I’m careful.” Tears streaming down her face, she added, “I won’t dirty your beautiful home…” Hearing this, Carter immediately frowned, looking at me with displeasure. “Olivia, Maya just has a difficult family background, but she’s not as bad as you’re making her out to be. Your attitude towards her truly disappoints me.” Maya carefully tugged at Carter’s sleeve, appearing forgiving and understanding. “Carter, it’s okay, please don’t argue with Olivia…” She sniffled, forcing a wronged yet stubborn smile. “After all, Olivia said you two are childhood sweethearts. How could I ever compare to a relationship like that…?” “What are you talking about? You’re unique.” Carter tenderly cupped Maya’s face, coaxing her in soft tones. Then he turned to me, his face as cold as ice. He spoke gravely, “Maya’s upset, so I’m taking her home now.” “You should take some time to reflect. And don’t forget to finalize those transfer papers.” I did reflect—on my terrible judgment of character. Then I promptly changed the password to my front door. The pent-up frustration in my heart finally found a moment of release.

The next day, I took my new application form to school to get it signed. Watching that bright red mark, signifying my departure, being firmly stamped on the paper, my heart suddenly felt empty for a moment. After a brief愣怔 moment, someone blocked my path. Carter Brooks frowned slightly. “Olivia, you changed your front door password?” “I went to your place right after dropping Maya off yesterday, but the door wouldn’t open…” I cut him off, concisely. “Yeah, I changed it.” He seemed displeased, as if nothing had happened, and asked intimately, “What’s the new password? So I can come to your place and take care of you.” I said calmly, “No need. I won’t be living here after I transfer.” Carter looked at the folded application form in my hand, as if suddenly remembering. “Oh, I completely forgot about that.” “Olivia, don’t worry, I’ll come get mine signed tomorrow.” Such casual chats, walking side-by-side with Carter, had become increasingly rare since Maya transferred to our school. I closed my eyes, indulging in a moment of reluctance, then tentatively said, “Between us, what’s there to worry about?” Carter was silent for a long time, then abruptly spoke. “Olivia, actually, I…” Maya suddenly appeared behind Carter, carrying a stack of notebooks. She complained to him affectionately, “Carter, didn’t you say you’d help me with my tutoring? Why did you suddenly disappear?” Saying this, she handed Carter the notes. “I saw your study plan goes out two months, so I prepared the corresponding study materials.” She winked playfully. “Carter, you won’t mind me peeking, will you?” “Of course not…” Carter’s smile was strained. He nervously glanced at me. Seeing no reaction from me, a faint look of disappointment crossed his face. So, while pushing me away, you were already planning a future with someone else. Just a future that never included me. I tried my best to maintain a dignified composure, but deep inside, a bitter taste spread like a rich wine. I squeezed my palm, forcing myself to clear my head. “You two chat. I’m leaving.” Maya feigned surprise, acting as if she had just noticed me, as if I had startled her. “Ol-Olivia…” “Are you upset because Carter and I are studying together?” “But I come from a modest background, not like you with all your resources…” As she spoke, she started to sniffle again. I didn’t want to play along with her act, so I said coldly, “Move.” The sparse guilt in Carter’s eyes vanished. He grabbed my wrist, his voice laced with anger. “Olivia Parker, what kind of tone is that?” Without another word, he dragged me in front of Maya and yelled, “Apologize to Maya!” The last sanctuary in my heart silently crumbled into desolate rubble. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I raised my hand and slapped Carter Brooks hard. “Carter Brooks, the one who should be apologizing is you.” “But not to Maya Foster. To me.”

I started sorting through all the things Carter had given me over the past decade. This necklace was his eighteenth birthday gift to me. I wore it to school once, and not long after, I saw Maya wearing an identical one. She bashfully said, “Carter told me that anything anyone else has, I’ll have too…” Only the box of the limited edition teddy bear remained. Carter took the bear, saying he liked the perfume I’d sprayed on it. But the very next day, I saw it sitting on Maya’s desk. And the high heels for my eighteenth birthday, the indigo aromatherapy diffuser… It turned out that what I thought was uniquely mine had already been given equally to others by Carter. Or not even equally. I recalled Carter’s boundless protectiveness and endless favoritism towards Maya. A cynical smile tugged at the corner of my lips. If that was the case, these things had no reason to exist. I booked a flight for the next day, preparing to spend my last night in peace. At two in the morning, I was woken by a phone call. I groggily answered, but the line remained silent. Just as I was about to hang up, Carter’s voice came through. “Olivia, I’m sorry.” My mind instantly cleared. If he was finally going to tell the truth… Carter’s voice deepened. “Maya self-harmed. I can’t leave her alone right now, so the transfer application, I’ll get to it a bit later…” My heart, which had soared with a sudden hope, crashed back down to earth, pathetic and ridiculous. I suddenly wanted to ask Carter, what about all the pain I suffered because you faked being bullied? Carter’s voice continued, “Just apologize.” I thought I’d misheard him. “What did you say?” Carter’s voice was firm. “Olivia Parker, you really should apologize to Maya.” “Can you honestly say Maya’s self-harm has nothing to do with you?” I was suddenly speechless. Because I suddenly understood that with Maya around, every word I said would be wrong. Carter spoke again, his voice like cold steel. “Olivia Parker, you truly disappoint me.” “Just apologize, and I can pretend none of this happened. I’ll even come to the new school with you in two months.” “Are you really going to be so selfish and throw away all these years of our connection?” I heard the threat in his words. But there was no longer any resentment or sadness, only annoyance. I sharply hung up the phone, blocked his number, and deleted his contact. I eagerly anticipated my flight tomorrow. The foreign scenery felt fresh and new, and someone took my luggage. I looked up and met the eyes of the legitimate heir of the Brooks family. “Olivia Parker, long time no see.” I reached out, a gentle smile on my face. “Long time no see, Ethan Hayes.” My phone rang, interrupting our pleasantries. I swiped the screen, only to find it was one of Carter’s friends’ numbers. Puzzled, I answered. Carter’s voice, faintly anxious, came through. “Olivia, which class did you transfer to at Northwood High?” “Why does everyone in every class say they haven’t seen you?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “325328”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

I went to prison for my husband’s company for three years. The day I was released, he gave his mistress a one-million-dollar bonus—and handed me a one-dollar check. He said it was for the company’s image. Our marriage had to stay secret. I couldn’t ride in his car, couldn’t acknowledge him at work, and could only call him “Boss.” The department manager position he once promised me was given to her instead. At a charity gala, he even allowed her to frame me for stealing a three-million-dollar diamond ring. So I signed the divorce papers and walked straight into the arms of his most hated rival. By the time he begged me to come back, I no longer needed him. I spent three years in prison to protect my husband Alexander’s company. The day I was released, the company held its grand opening. As Alexander’s wife, I stood beside him at the ceremony and received a bonus envelope. Inside was a single dollar. At first, I thought there had been a mistake. Then I noticed the woman next to me—Chloe, Alexander’s assistant. She opened her envelope as well. It also contained one dollar. Relieved, I told myself it must be a symbolic gesture for the opening. I pushed the doubt aside and stayed with Alexander until the ceremony ended. That night, I was scrolling through social media when I saw Chloe’s post on Instagram. She had uploaded a photo of a check. “Congrats on the grand opening, boss! One million dollars—so generous!” The comments were filled with congratulations and teasing. Everyone was praising her and hinting at her special relationship with “the boss.” I went to Alexander for an explanation. Instead of denying it, he distanced himself from me at once. “You just got out of prison,” he said calmly. “It’s not appropriate to make our relationship public right now. For the company’s sake, our marriage stays secret. At work, just call me ‘Boss.’” A moment later, he liked Chloe’s post. I wiped away my tears, took out the one-dollar bill, and dialed his business rival. “I’ll come work for you.” There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. “You were willing to go to prison for Alexander’s company,” he said. “And now you want to leave? Didn’t he promise you the department manager position when you got out?” I stared at the dollar in my hand and let out a bitter laugh. “Mm, I don’t want it anymore.” Just as I said that, Alexander suddenly appeared in front of me, asking suspiciously: “What don’t you want?” I calmly hung up the phone and told the truth: “The department manager position.” Hearing this, a flash of relief crossed the man’s complex expression. “Good. I was planning to give it to Chloe anyway. You can start as a clerk for now.” Hearing these words, I couldn’t help but frown. Back then, I endured three years behind bars for Alexander’s company. He had repeatedly promised me that when I got out, the position would be mine and mine alone. Who would have thought that in the end, I’d become nothing more than a lowly office worker. At this moment, Alexander was breaking the promise he made three years ago with his own mouth. But I couldn’t see a hint of guilt in his eyes. My eyes burned as an unstoppable pain flooded my heart. Seeing I didn’t respond, Alexander took out a contract from his briefcase and tossed it on the coffee table. He said nonchalantly: “This is a secret marriage agreement, for the sake of the company.” The words “Secret Marriage Agreement” stung my eyes badly. Three years ago, the day before I went to prison, Alexander and I got our marriage certificate. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of a happy married life after my release. But now, I had become something he was ashamed to mention. He even wanted me to disappear without a trace. I laughed bitterly to myself, picked up the pen without a second thought. Alexander suddenly turned his head, frowning as he watched me about to sign. She who once couldn’t wait to announce this marriage to the world, how could she suddenly be so decisive? He instinctively grabbed my wrist, his words puzzling: “You’re not even going to think about it?” I didn’t even look up, signing immediately. Getting the secret marriage agreement as he wished, he fell oddly silent for a moment. After a while, he cleared his throat, his voice turning gentle: “Olivia, don’t worry. Once the company stabilizes, I’ll definitely make it up to you properly.” I responded with a noncommittal “mm”, just as the company WhatsApp group lit up. Chloe had become the company’s first department manager, with all the employees offering congratulations. “You’ve been by the boss’s side these past three years, we’ve all seen it. This position is well-deserved!” “I think Chloe will be the boss’s wife soon, right? We’ll have to get on your good side from now on.” Immediately after, Chloe sent a shy emoji, tacitly accepting everything. “I still think Olivia is luckier. She went to prison for three years and can still be a clerk at the company. The boss really spoils her!” Knowing the truth, she was clearly mocking me. I struggled to look away from the screen, inadvertently catching Alexander staring at his phone. The smile on his lips was a tenderness I had never seen before. It made me wonder. Was his secret marriage to me really for the company, or was it for Chloe?

To fulfill the secret marriage contract, Alexander moved from the master bedroom to the guest room. Besides that, he also made it crystal clear: I wasn’t allowed to ride in the same car as him. I couldn’t talk to him at the company, only call him boss. And his relationship with Chloe was just an act, I wasn’t allowed to make a fuss about it. After explaining everything, Alexander disappeared for three days. It wasn’t until I took a day off work with a fever that he bothered to call me: “You’ve only been working a few days and you’re already taking time off. Aren’t you being a bit dramatic?” “You’ll have to go to the hospital yourself. I’m still on a business trip, I can’t take you.” An expected result. I mumbled a vague “mm”. But just as I finished speaking, a coquettish female voice came through the phone: “Alexander, my zipper’s stuck! Come help me quick!” Although Alexander quickly hung up, I still heard the sound of his hurried footsteps. Looking at Chloe’s Instagram again, she had already changed her profile picture. It matched Alexander’s as a couple. I remembered when we were dating, I always pestered him to use matching profile pictures. But he always had countless reasons to refuse me: Too much trouble, childish, tasteless… I don’t know what came over him, but he started frantically texting and calling me. I only replied once: “This is my rest time, please understand, boss.” After finishing the IV drip, I returned to the company. My coworkers were as cold to me as ever, piling work on my desk. In their minds, I was probably just a lucky ex-con taken in by the boss. I should naturally take on more. I adjusted my mood and packed all the couple items from the storage cabinet into a black garbage bag. If I had known they would never see the light of day, I wouldn’t have worked so hard to bring them to the office. I was about to go throw them away when Alexander unexpectedly returned. Before I could react, he angrily dragged me all the way to the stairwell. Seeing the garbage bag in my hand, the man’s face darkened: “You have time to clean up garbage but not to return my calls?” The strong perfume on him made me take a step back involuntarily as I said calmly: “I replied to your message.” Hearing this, Alexander seemed to catch fire, demanding: “Why did you call me ‘boss’ on the phone?” What’s the difference between on the phone and in person? He was the one who told me to, so why was he upset when I did? Seeing I had no intention of explaining, he let out a cold laugh: “You know I don’t like willful women. You’d better not turn into someone I hate.” As he spoke, he snatched the bag from my hand and hurled it to the ground with all his might. Amid the thunderous crash echoing through the stairwell, he strode away. Looking at the shattered photos and couple mugs, my heart trembled. Just like our years of feelings would ultimately be broken to pieces. I cleaned up the fragments and called a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. After getting the document, I printed a copy in the copy room. Just as I had mentally prepared myself and was about to knock, Alexander opened the door first. Meeting his icy gaze, I calmly handed over the document: “Sign it when you have time.” But Alexander didn’t even look at it, flipping straight to the last page to sign. Then he handed it back casually, instructing: “Come out with me to a charity gala later. Be smart and remember to help block the drinks.” I was puzzled – Alexander could usually hold his liquor well, why did he need me to block drinks? Before I could ask, Chloe bounced out from behind him: “Boss is so thoughtful! You even remembered I have a cold and can’t drink!”

Chloe sat next to Alexander wrapped in a blanket, her head resting directly on his shoulder. Seeing me, she frowned and complained: “The boss is just overreacting. It’s only a cold, but he won’t let me drink or go to work. If I hadn’t begged him, he wouldn’t even bring me to this charity event.” Hearing her say this, Alexander fondly tapped her nose. “I don’t care what you say. Just don’t cry when it’s time to take your medicine.” The two people before me were clearly a couple in love. His gentle humor was also a side of him I found unfamiliar. Clutching the divorce agreement in my hand, I felt oddly relieved. Arriving at the event venue, Alexander exchanged pleasantries with the sponsors and prominent guests for a while. Then he stepped back and began introducing everyone. “This is Chloe, our company’s department manager.” When introducing me, one of the main donors frowned slightly. “I remember clearly, this young lady went to prison for owing money. Mr. Smith, you really are loyal to old friends.” Alexander tensed up, glancing at me before laughing it off in agreement. During the networking portion, Alexander and Chloe’s seats were pressed close together. He kept giving me looks, telling me to proactively help block drinks for Chloe. At the table, someone noticed their intimate gestures and couldn’t help teasing: “Mr. Smith and Miss Chloe look so well-matched. I wonder if the boss is married?” As soon as the words fell, Alexander looked at me, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. The next second, we said in unison: “No.” Even though we gave the same answer, he abruptly turned his head to stare at me in shock. It wasn’t until the guests went to the restroom that he messaged me: “It’s all just an act, don’t take it to heart.” Alexander said it was acting, but I was telling the truth. After all, he had already signed the divorce agreement. I glanced at the message and flipped my phone face down. Seeing this, Alexander was about to get up and come over, but I turned and went to the restroom. Coming out of the stall, I ran into Chloe. She stood with her arms crossed, clearly with a victorious attitude. “Olivia, you’re truly pathetic as a woman. To be so despised by your husband – if it were me, I definitely wouldn’t have the face to show myself in public.” I washed my hands nonchalantly, saying coolly: “That’s not for Miss Chloe to worry about.” Drying my hands, I prepared to leave. But Chloe darted in front of me, looking me up and down. “How can the boss’s wife still wear such rags?” “Oh I forgot, Alexander must have spent all the money buying me haute couture. Sorry about that.” The expensive brands she wore seemed to constantly remind me of the difference between 1 and 1 million. In an instant, the bitterness that had built up in my heart exploded, and I fled in a panic. Back in the private lounge, I picked up my bag to leave. Alexander hurriedly came over to stop me, his tone gentle: “Don’t go yet, I’ll take you home later.” I was about to refuse when Chloe suddenly burst in crying. Instantly attracting everyone’s attention. Alexander immediately let go of me and ran over to ask what had happened. Chloe was frantically rummaging through her bag and all her pockets. Then she cried out in dismay: “My custom diamond ring is missing!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, everyone in the room started looking for Chloe’s ring. While searching, she kept muttering: “This was a birthday gift from Mr. Smith, worth over $3 million. I can’t bear to lose it!” Though I didn’t know what game she was playing, I just wanted to leave immediately. But just as I reached the door, Chloe blocked me. “Olivia, let me check your bag. Otherwise you won’t be able to clear your name.” Whether or not I stole her ring, I knew the truth. “I’m tired. Miss Chloe can look for it herself.” Seeing I was determined to leave, Chloe actually grabbed my bag directly. In the struggle, the contents of my bag spilled all over the floor. And among the scattered items, there was indeed a sparkling large diamond ring. I stared at the ring in shock, suddenly meeting Chloe’s provocative gaze. “Why are you framing me?” Turning around, I found everyone looking at me with contempt. Especially Alexander, who frowned with disgust in his eyes. I instinctively tried to explain to him: “I didn’t take this!” But my explanation seemed so feeble in the face of the glaring “evidence”. Next, Chloe picked up the ring and started crying even harder. “This ring means so much to me. How could Olivia steal it?” “I thought Olivia had reformed in prison, but I never expected she’d still do anything for money. I don’t dare work with her anymore…” Chloe’s words made everyone’s expressions turn ugly. The lead donor spoke up first, breaking the awkward silence: “Mr. Smith, let’s call off this sponsorship discussion!” With that, he stormed out of the room with his people. I wanted to chase after them to explain, but was met with a solid slap from Alexander. Meeting my incredulous gaze, there wasn’t a hint of regret in his eyes. “I never thought you’d be the type to see money and lose your mind!” “I brought you out, not for you to steal things!” Alexander’s words completely convicted me. Didn’t he know what kind of person I was? Had he also forgotten why I went to prison? Seeing the anger in his eyes, I knew he would never believe me. I could only laugh bitterly and hand him my phone. “Then call the police.” He looked down at the phone, then frowned at me again, still not moving. The long stare seemed to let me see through the man before me. After a while, Alexander snorted coldly, “Ridiculous!” He turned around, helped Chloe put on the diamond ring, and gently coaxed her to leave. In the room, only I remained, along with the mess on the floor. I picked up my scattered belongings and headed straight for the airport without hesitation. In the late night waiting area. I was about to draft a resignation letter when I received a dismissal notice from Alexander first. His words were filled with anger: “Don’t come to the company anymore. Stay home and reflect on yourself!” Seeing his absurd demands, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. Without thinking, I sent him a photo of the signed divorce agreement. Along with the text: “Alexander, I wish you and Chloe a hundred years of happiness and growing old together!” “But first you need to get our divorce certificate, otherwise I’ll report you for bigamy.” After I sent this, Alexander started frantically calling me like his life depended on it. This is the cutoff point

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “325329”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

I had just undergone stomach cancer surgery and survived daily immunotherapy. Then I saw it on social media—my wife had transferred our house to her “old friend.” She said he was just a single father and told me to be more understanding. But to accompany him on a test drive of his new luxury car, She not only forgot my birthday, she also left me alone at the hospital on a rainy night. That was the day I stopped waiting for her to turn back and contacted a divorce lawyer instead. My wife Skylar Anderson’s “old friend,” Caleb Thompson, posted a photo of a deed on Instagram. The caption read, “Huge thanks to my big sister for signing this house over to me.” I looked at the address on the deed, stunned; it was our home. I commented with a single question mark, “?” Moments later, Skylar called, snapping at me, “He’s a single dad, drowning in bills and trying to keep a roof over his daughter’s head in a good school district. It doesn’t affect where we live.” Her tone was all reproach. “Can’t you show a little compassion?” From the other end, I could even hear Caleb’s mumbled complaints. A half hour later, Caleb posted again, tagging me to make sure I’d see it. This time, it was a brand-new, fully paid-for Mercedes-Benz. The caption: “As the saying goes, where a woman’s money goes, so does her love.” I knew it was Skylar’s gift to pacify him. But this time, I’d made up my mind—I was going to file for divorce. When Skylar got home, I swallowed my daily dose of immunotherapy meds, washing it down with a piece of birthday cake. This was the medication I needed after surgery for stomach cancer. I’d bought the cake in advance, hoping to surprise her and share the news about my surgery while she’d been away on business. I’d been waiting since morning, but she wasn’t picking up, not even responding to my messages. It was only when I commented on Caleb’s post about the deed that she immediately called back—angry and accusatory. Before I could even get a word in, she’d hung up and blocked me. My wound reopened from the stress. She barely glanced at the cake or the medication on the table, wrinkling her nose. “Whose birthday is it? Yours?” In silence, I put the meds away and tossed the cake in the trash. “Not mine—it’s for a friend.” A flicker of relief crossed her face. “Good, I thought it was the 28th. Today’s only the 8th.” Five years married, and she got my birthday wrong every single year. The funny thing? She remembered someone else’s perfectly. She sat down beside me and handed me a toy car. “Caleb asked me to give this to you. He was pretty shaken by your passive-aggressive attitude. You should apologize.” The little car was a Mercedes-Benz keychain, probably one of the trinkets they throw in when you buy the car—smudged with oil, no less. “No thanks,” I said flatly. Skylar’s expression turned sour. “What’s with the attitude? He even offered you a peace gesture. Can’t you show a bit of grace and apologize?” When I didn’t respond, Skylar grabbed my arm, pulling me up with such force that my injured leg struck the coffee table. It was the same leg that had been burned last week by scalding hot porridge she’d accidentally spilled when texting Caleb. Seeing blood seep from the wound again, she looked worried. “Let me take you to the hospital.” I didn’t refuse. “Fine.” As soon as we were in the car, her Bluetooth connected, and Caleb’s voice filled the silence, playful and warm. “Welcome back, big sister! Keep making money for me to spend, okay?” Skylar’s face tightened. “It’s just something he left in my car last time. I’ll get rid of it.” “Don’t bother,” I muttered. Silence filled the car, and she looked at me, surprised. “You’re not angry?” I pressed my lips together. Caleb used to matter to me. But now? I could hardly even care about Skylar, much less her pet. “Just drive,” I said quietly. “It’s late.” The hospital was only a half-mile away, just a straight drive and a U-turn. But Skylar’s phone rang, and I heard Caleb on the line, asking her to take him for a ride in the new Mercedes. “Something’s come up with Caleb,” she said, pulling over. “You can just walk the last fifty yards, right?” She was practically itching to go. “I can’t walk,” I said, holding her gaze. Her expression turned frosty. “Are you serious? You’re a grown man, not an invalid!” She opened the door and practically pushed me out, saying to call her once I’d taken care of my bandages. Her tires splashed filthy water over my leg as she sped off. Rain started to fall, soaking through my bandages. I took a few steps before pain shot through my abdomen, and I collapsed on the crosswalk, unable to move. I barely avoided getting hit, thanks to the hospital’s security guard, who rushed over and helped me in. Back home, barely settled, Skylar stormed in, furious. “I told you to call me once you’d changed the bandages! I waited at the hospital for an hour, but your phone was off!” I stared at her.

I’d spent two hours on an IV and eventually had to call a cab when I couldn’t take the pain any longer. My phone had only just died, but clearly, she’d never been at the hospital. Once, she’d cared so much. When had she turned so cold? “You blocked me, Skylar,” I said. “I couldn’t call you even if I’d wanted to.” Her face softened slightly, and she pulled out a takeout container. “I figured you’d be hungry. Brought you some porridge.” I looked at the bowl. It was plain, just a sprinkle of scallions—no meat, no eggs, as if it were someone’s leftovers. An hour ago, Caleb’s Instagram Story had shown Skylar cooking in the kitchen. “Who says good women don’t exist? She not only took me for a midnight ride in her new Mercedes, but when I got hungry, she whipped me up some porridge, too.” I stirred the bowl, feeling a wave of nausea. “I don’t want it.” Skylar’s expression turned dark. “What’s wrong with you? I brought this for you, and you’re throwing a tantrum?” “So what if I signed the house over to Caleb? You still get to live here. All he did was say thank you. And you embarrassed us both by commenting. Have I even gotten mad about that?” With fresh stitches in my stomach and an injured leg, I barely had the strength to speak. “I was just shocked it was our address on his post…” But Skylar cut me off. “Shocked? Caleb’s right—you’re just that kind of person. Always quick to anger, no empathy, no tolerance. Anytime I speak to a man, you get all paranoid. You’re the one with issues!” In the past, I would’ve tried to reason with her. But this time, I just stared, letting her rant until she was breathless. When she was done, I said, “You finished? Mind turning off the light?” She shot me a cold glare before slamming the door. After she left, I slept soundly for the first time in a long time. The next day, I contacted a friend for a divorce lawyer. She’d been gone for three days since that argument, but when I saw a new photo Samantha posted from their beach trip, there was Skylar in matching clothes with Caleb, beaming by his side. I liked the photo without a second thought. Skylar called back immediately. “I’ll pick you up later. My friends are meeting us at the beach.” She paused, adding, “I wasn’t planning on inviting you. Consider it a reward for good behavior.” “Sure,” I replied, hiding the ongoing divorce process. When Skylar arrived, it surprised me that Caleb wasn’t in the car, too. At the beach, Samantha greeted me with an apology. “I planned that meet-up last time—I should’ve given you a heads up. I’ll make up for it later.” I forced a smile. “Been swamped with work.” “Word is, you’re planning to open a branch in Aspen Ridge. Congratulations!” Samantha said, laying it on thick. I nodded. “It’s still in the works. Not sure if it’ll pan out.” Skylar walked over, face taut. “You’re moving to Aspen Ridge? Since when? Did I say you could go?” I met her furious gaze, unflinching. She continued to rant while Samantha tried to smooth things over, ushering us toward the cookout. As we sat by the grill, Skylar whispered, almost nervous, “Caleb and I agreed. After his daughter finishes elementary school, he’ll sign the house back over. Don’t get so worked up—it’s my property. I didn’t even have to explain.” “Alright,” I said, nodding calmly. As I replied, I noticed a familiar figure approaching. A young woman with them shouted, “Caleb! Skylar’s over here!” Everyone froze.

Samantha kicked the girl, cursing her for being so tactless. I stood and excused myself, heading toward the restroom to gather my composure. When I returned, they were playing games by the fire. Caleb and Skylar sat close, laughing. I found a spot farther away, watching quietly. “Alright, truth or dare!” Samantha suggested, trying to revive the mood. Skylar won the first round, and Caleb chose “truth.” “What’s made you happiest recently?” Skylar asked, giving him a pass. Caleb smiled, staring meaningfully at her. “I met an incredible woman who gave me a house and a car. She even took me on a midnight ride in her new Mercedes.” He glanced at me with a triumphant smirk. Everyone knew the house and car were Skylar’s doing, but they’d kept quiet out of politeness. But here, laid bare, the tension was thick. Samantha cleared her throat. “Alright, round two! Let’s see what we’ve got next.” This time, Caleb chose me. “Truth,” I said. Caleb stepped up with a grin. “How about a dare, Nathan?” I shook my head. “Truth.” He looked put out, his gaze drifting to Skylar. “Didn’t Skylar say you’re an amazing swimmer? Why not show us?” I refused, “I’m not feeling well.” Caleb glanced at Skylar with a hurt look, and she pressed, “It’s your specialty! Why not just swim a lap? It won’t kill you.” Ignoring my protests, they pulled me to the water’s edge, taunting me with every step. My abdomen throbbed from recent surgery, but they kept pushing. Finally, Skylar shoved me into the freezing water. I coughed as salt stung my throat and lungs, waves crashing over my head. I barely surfaced, gasping for air. As I struggled to shore, Skylar smiled at Caleb, whispering assurances. Then, she turned to me with a sneer. “Apologize to Caleb and take a drink—or else.” I looked at her, heart pounding with exhaustion and anger. “Skylar, I’ve already contacted my lawyer. We’re getting divorced.” She stared at me, eyes wide with shock. I stumbled back to the road. Before I could make it across, everything went black. I heard someone yell, “He’s bleeding—call an ambulance!”

I don’t know how much time passed before I regained consciousness, but the first thing I heard was Lucas Mitchell’s furious voice by my bedside. “Skylar, are you out of your mind? Forcing him to swim? He just had surgery to remove a stomach tumor! You didn’t know that?” “He… he just had surgery? Why didn’t he tell me?” Skylar’s voice sounded shocked, laced with a pang of regret. Lucas was fuming. “Are you blind? Haven’t you noticed how pale he’s been? Or have your eyes been glued to Caleb the whole time?” If it weren’t for the hospital setting, I could imagine Lucas slapping her right then. “I… I really didn’t know…” He scoffed. “Oh, but you knew about signing the house over to that wannabe hero and buying him a car, didn’t you? You think it’s a mystery why he’s so drained? It’s because you stressed him out so much his stitches tore open!” “I…” “Enough. Just seeing you is annoying. Leave.” As the room fell silent again, I opened my eyes slowly. Lucas sat next to me, eyebrows furrowed with worry. “You awake? Are you in any pain?” I managed a weak smile. “You know everything, don’t you?” Lucas sighed, looking disappointed. “Didn’t I tell you from the start not to marry her? Now look where it’s gotten you. Too little, too late.” Thinking back, I felt a pang of regret myself. If I hadn’t been so infatuated, my parents would have never allowed this marriage, despite Skylar’s family’s wealth. I remembered overhearing Skylar’s mother in the restroom during a family dinner before the wedding. She was on the phone, saying, “Oh, the wedding costs? Sure, they’re being reasonable. But her fiancé’s family… let’s just say their contribution isn’t quite what we hoped. We’ll match their energy, that’s all.” That night, I couldn’t help but tell Skylar what her mother had said. It wasn’t about the money; it was the contempt in her mother’s voice. Skylar promised to talk to her mother and settle the matter, but it was never mentioned again. Three years into our marriage, Skylar drunkenly confessed, “Of course I knew about scaling back the contribution. My mom asked me first. Nathan, you’re just so gullible—no wonder they say devoted men are the easiest to fool.” Seeing her in that cold light now, I realized how shallow she truly was. At some point, Skylar walked back into the hospital room, staring at me with a hint of sorrow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d just had surgery…” I looked at her, a chill running through me, and interrupted her coldly, “I know you like Caleb. Let’s just get divorced so you can be with him. I wish you two all the best.” “I don’t want a divorce!” Skylar’s voice rose, and she stammered, “He and I… there’s nothing going on. I married you because I wanted to be with you, not him.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Really? Skylar, you’re the one who said that night you’d be with Caleb if you could. You even said you regretted accepting my proposal and would marry him if we divorced.” That night, Skylar had come home drunk, with Caleb practically carrying her in. I’d been sleeping in the guest room, but I heard everything clearly. Skylar clung to Caleb’s waist, whispering, “I regret it… How did I let myself say yes to him?” Caleb glanced towards the guest room, smirking as he replied, “And if you got divorced? Who would you marry then?” “You, of course. If I got divorced, I’d marry you in a heartbeat. Stay with me tonight, please?” That night, Caleb left, disgusted by the mess Skylar had made all over herself. Now, looking back, I knew that the fact I hadn’t burst into the room to fight him meant I’d already lost hope in Skylar. The time we spent together after that was just a process of slowly letting go. Lucas finally managed to get Skylar to leave the room. But soon after, my phone buzzed nonstop as Skylar pulled me off her blocklist. Message after message appeared on my screen: “I asked around, and chicken soup is good for recovery. I’ll make some for you later.” “You shouldn’t eat cold stuff; I ordered some supplements for you.” “I know I messed up. Can we just start over?” I set her messages to “Do Not Disturb” and asked the nurse to transfer me to a VIP suite, making it clear I didn’t want any visitors. When Skylar called to say she wanted to see me, I finally answered, irritation evident in my tone. “Skylar, I don’t want to see you right now. Let’s finalize the divorce after I’ve recovered, okay?” There was silence on the other end before she responded softly, “I’ll just look at you from afar; I won’t bother you.” I ended the call and turned off my phone. Three days later, as I was discharged, Skylar was already waiting at the hospital entrance, a smile lighting up her face. “Leaving already? Let me take you home.” I didn’t argue, climbing into her car. As soon as she started the engine, the Bluetooth connected, and Caleb’s voice filled the car. “Welcome back, big sister! Keep working hard and making that money for me!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “325330”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

“Get your best doctor in here!” I had just stepped out of the staff elevator when I saw my husband, Derek Hayes, yelling outside the operating room. What was he doing here? Didn’t he say he was on a business trip today and couldn’t be with me for our seventh wedding anniversary? Before I could react, he stormed over to a nurse, making a scene: “You have to save my wife and child, or I’ll make sure this hospital goes bankrupt!” His wife? The words hit me like a lightning bolt. If she was his wife, then who was I? I stood frozen, still processing, when a young doctor hurried towards me. “Dr. Miller, perfect timing. All the chief physicians are in surgery and can’t break away… Please, get into the operating room!” I took a deep breath, clenched my fists, and walked towards the double doors. Derek rushed over, blocking my path, his eyes blazing. “You’re the surgeon?” He didn’t recognize me? Even though I was completely covered by a surgical cap and mask, he couldn’t be so blind that he couldn’t recognize his wife of seven years! Maybe he just didn’t expect me to be here. I’d been temporarily assigned to this community hospital last month as part of a temporary rotation. I remembered telling Derek about it. At the time, he was engrossed in his phone, not really listening. Through my mask, I told him, “Family, please step aside.” I moved past him, but Derek shouted, “There aren’t any male doctors in there, are there? I don’t want any male staff in the room with my wife!” You must be out of your mind, I thought. My curiosity spiked. Who exactly was this “wife” Derek kept talking about? After sterilizing, I entered the operating room. A pregnant woman lay on the bed, barely conscious. When I saw her face clearly, my heart lurched. It was Tiffany Reed, Derek’s cousin-in-law! Derek’s cousin, Major Ryan Davies, was a military man, often deployed. Tiffany would often call Derek over with excuses like broken appliances or water outages. I was usually busy with work and hadn’t paid much attention to their frequent encounters. I never imagined… they were having an affair behind my back! A nurse handed me the patient’s chart, and I quickly scanned it. Tiffany was eight months pregnant. Her contractions were caused by intercourse during pregnancy, leading to a threatened miscarriage. Eight months… I remembered Derek’s cousin hadn’t been back in almost a year. So, the baby in Tiffany’s belly… was Derek’s? My vision blurred. Suddenly, some clues clicked into place. Derek and I had been married for years and hadn’t conceived. My periods were always irregular. Last year, I couldn’t help but want him to get checked, but he flat-out refused, insisting he was fine. Even my mother-in-law sided with him. Now I knew why. He had already gotten another woman pregnant! No wonder he was so confident! So, my mother-in-law was in on it too? My assistant asked, “Dr. Miller, should we prepare for a C-section?” I looked at the fetal heart monitor and the ultrasound results. At eight months, the baby could survive. It was sickeningly ironic. I was about to perform a C-section on the very woman who had cuckolded me. But as a doctor, bound by my professional ethics, I had no choice. I took a deep breath. “Yes, prepare the anesthesia.” We were busy with pre-op preparations when Tiffany on the operating table suddenly cried out, “Let my husband in! I don’t want to be alone!” The nurse tried to reassure her, “Ms. Reed, that’s against hospital policy…” “Against policy? Don’t husbands always accompany their wives in labor on TV?” Once the anesthesia took effect, Tiffany’s contractions eased, and she became fully energetic, yelling and demanding. The nurse patiently explained, “Those require prior application, and our hospital doesn’t have such a precedent…” Tiffany threatened, “My husband is an executive at a listed company! Be careful, or I’ll make sure you all pay!” Your actual husband is an active-duty military officer, I thought. Cheating with Derek means you’re both violating military marriage laws, which is a criminal offense! Clearly, Tiffany and Derek didn’t care. They openly referred to each other as husband and wife. Tiffany declared, “If you don’t let my husband in for the delivery, I’m not giving birth!”

My assistant asked what to do. I suppressed my anger. “Call the director for approval. I can’t authorize this!” Director Thompson quickly responded, agreeing to let Derek in for the delivery. The application forms could be completed later. Soon, Derek entered, wearing green scrubs. Seeing him, Tiffany immediately whined and played the damsel in distress. “Oh, darling, I’m in so much pain, I can’t take it anymore…” She’s blatantly lying, I thought. She’s semi-anesthetized; she wouldn’t feel any pain right now. Derek squeezed her hand, his voice full of feigned tenderness. “Honey, just hold on. After the baby is born, I’ll give you a big reward.” “I want that limited edition bag from H brand…” “Okay, okay, I’ll buy you as many as you want.” By now, seeing that scummy couple, I felt no more anger, just a cold detachment. I only had myself to blame for being so stupid! Derek had been distant lately, forgetting my birthday and our wedding anniversary, and I actually thought he was just overwhelmed with work! I kept telling myself internally. Chloe, you’re a doctor. You have professional ethics. Even if your enemy is on the operating table, you have to do your job! After bracing myself mentally, I picked up the scalpel. I skillfully made the first incision. Derek, who had leaned in to watch, suddenly rolled his eyes and collapsed. I ignored him, continuing to cut through the second layer. Tiffany shrieked, “Darling! What happened to you?!” She even tried to sit up, but my assistant quickly stopped her. “Ms. Reed, please lie still!” Two nurses rushed to help Derek to the side. I knew exactly what was wrong with him. The guy was a hemophobe, yet he still forced himself to come in for the delivery. Guess he really loves Tiffany. I scoffed internally. We successfully delivered the baby: a tiny, skinny boy. The umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck, and his body was purple. Tiffany asked anxiously, “Is the baby out?” The assistant told her, “It’s a boy.” She beamed, then asked, “Why isn’t he crying?” The assistant didn’t answer. I calmly cleared the mucus from the baby’s airways, held him upside down, and patted his feet. A moment later, the baby finally let out a cry. Hearing the cry, Derek was about to get up, but seeing the baby covered in blood and vernix, he immediately stretched his legs out and fainted again. The midwife measured the baby’s length and weight, then brought him over for Tiffany to hold, explaining, “Your baby is a bit weak and needs to go into an incubator.” Tiffany yelled, “An incubator? Are you trying to scam us because you think my husband is rich?” My patience had worn thin long ago. I said in a low voice, “Premature babies with underperforming vitals must go into an incubator! If Ms. Reed doesn’t trust this hospital, she can request a transfer!” She bristled. “What’s with your attitude?! Transfer then! My husband has plenty of money! If it wasn’t for…” She paused, then continued, “Who would want to give birth in this rundown place!” I probably knew what she was going to say. If it wasn’t for me being a doctor at a top-tier hospital in the city, and their fear of exposure, they wouldn’t have chosen this small hospital for the delivery. I couldn’t be bothered with her anymore, leaving the remaining work to my assistant and the nurses. I walked out of the operating room, intending to get some rest, when I saw a woman adorned in jewelry yelling like a fishwife: “How could the baby be born before his due month?! I’ll sue you all! I’ll sue you until you lose everything!” It was my mother-in-law, Shirley Hayes!

Shirley was blocking the midwife, preventing her from taking the baby to the NICU. The midwife, exasperated, could only explain, “Ma’am, the mother was at risk of a threatened miscarriage, which is why we performed the C-section…” “What? A C-section?!” Shirley shrieked, her voice rising. “Naturally delivered babies are smarter! Who told you to give her a C-section?! Get your director out here!” I never knew she was so ignorant. I really learned something new today. My emotions were a complicated mess, and I desperately wanted to avoid getting involved in their mess. I’d go home, divorce Derek, and get away from these toxic people! I started to walk around Shirley. But Shirley noticed me, and with a swift move, she blocked me. “Was it you? Did you give my daughter-in-law a C-section?” I said coldly, “The C-section was performed with the patient’s and family’s consent! If you have a problem, ask your son!” Shirley didn’t recognize me either. She shouted, spitting everywhere, “Hey! How dare you talk to me like that? Do you know who I am? Who do you think you are? Just a damn doctor!” The midwife quickly took the opportunity to push the baby into the elevator. Shirley, caught between two fronts, couldn’t stop her. She directed her full fury at me. “How dare you make my grandson come out so early! What’s your agenda?! Do you want to make my grandson stupid?!” The other patients’ families waiting outside couldn’t stand it anymore and started chastising her. “How can you be so unreasonable? Your daughter-in-law was premature, the doctor was just following protocol…” “Exactly, your son and daughter-in-law both signed off on the C-section, what does it have to do with the doctor?” Some people had already secretly taken out their phones to record. Shirley aggressively retorted, “None of your damn business! Who else to blame but her?! My grandson wasn’t supposed to be born for another two months! It’s all this quack’s fault!” “Honestly, she saved your daughter-in-law and grandson, and you’re so ungrateful.” The two sides argued furiously. Shirley actually swung a fist at an elderly lady. I quickly intervened, warning Shirley, “Ma’am, if you keep causing trouble, I’ll call security.” “How dare you! Just try to touch me!” Shirley roared in a fit of rage. I shielded the elderly lady and stepped back, then told her, “Ma’am, please step aside for a moment…” When I wasn’t looking, Shirley pushed me hard. I staggered back a few steps, lost my balance, and fell to the floor. My head swam, and a heavy, dragging pain shot through my lower abdomen. Several family members quickly rushed to help me up. “Doctor, are you okay?” I swayed, unable to stand steadily. Shirley, the villain, was already playing the victim. “What are you faking? I barely touched you!” I clutched my stomach, too weak to argue with her. To my horror, a gush of warmth flowed down my inner thigh. I froze, too afraid to move. Just then, Derek came out with Tiffany, who was still on the gurney. Seeing Shirley, Derek asked, surprised, “Mom? What are you doing here?” Shirley immediately found her rock, twisting the facts as she spoke: “Your assistant told me you brought Tiffany here to have the baby! Tell me, son, did this quack trick you into a C-section? You didn’t even consult me about such a serious matter! These dishonest hospitals deliberately trick you into thinking your baby’s in danger, making you spend a fortune on ‘rescue’ just to scam you!” Several medical staff, unable to bear it any longer, said sternly, “Don’t you dare slander us!” “The mother’s water broke; the C-section was unavoidable!” Shirley put her hands on her hips and retorted, “How could my daughter-in-law’s water break for no reason? Don’t try to fool me!” I couldn’t stand her constantly saying “my daughter-in-law” anymore. I gritted my teeth through the pain and told her, “Because your son and your ‘daughter-in-law’ had intercourse during pregnancy, which caused the miscarriage!”

Derek nervously kept quiet. Shirley was clearly stunned, then immediately exploded. “Nonsense! My son would never do such a thing!” A nurse came over to help me. “Dr. Miller, don’t mind her. Let’s go…” Shirley wouldn’t let up, pulling and grabbing at me. “Stop right there! You think you can just run off? You’re responsible for my grandson!” A searing cramp twisted my lower abdomen. This wasn’t good! Cold sweat poured down me. In a panic, I flung Shirley away, and she hit her back against the wall. She immediately pretended to clutch her head. “Ouch! My head! You evil quack!” The nurse pointed out, “You hit your back! How could your head hurt…” Shirley started to whine. “I don’t care! Apologize to me, or this isn’t over!” She shouted at Derek, “Your mother’s being bullied, what are you standing there for?” Derek, who’d already been annoyed with me in the operating room, seized the opportunity. He pointed at me and commanded, “You, apologize to my mother!” I gasped for air, whispering to the nurse, “My… stomach hurts, please take me away first…” The nurse tried to help me leave, but Derek roughly grabbed my arm. “Where do you think you’re going? Don’t even think about leaving without apologizing!” The nurse tried to stop him but was shoved aside violently. “Derek! Look closely at who I am!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “325331”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

**Avery’s POV** “Mrs. Sterling, I’ve reviewed the supplementary clauses for your divorce agreement. There are no legal loopholes.” Mr. Davies’ voice was calm and professional over the phone. “The marriage contract you signed with Mr. Sterling four years ago will officially expire on the twenty-seventh of next month. At that time, this divorce agreement will automatically take effect, and you will regain your complete freedom.” “Got it.” I hung up, my gaze fixed on the massive wedding portrait in the center of the living room wall. In the picture, I stood in a designer wedding gown before the blue-domed, white-walled beauty of Santorini. It was the only time in my life I dared to get so brazenly close to Dean Sterling. But he was so distant, devoid of any newlywed joy. Love or not, it hung there, blatant, without a single word needed. “It’s finally over.” I sighed. Four years ago, I signed that ridiculous contract. My wedding night held no tenderness, only a document handed to me by Dean, accompanied by his icy, cutting words: “Avery, remember your place. I married you because Chloe needed time to cool off. For these four years, you’ll be my wife, Mrs. Sterling, and don’t even think about anything that doesn’t belong to you.” Back then, I naively believed four years would be enough to melt a block of ice. But four years passed, and I understood: some ice would never melt for me. A soft click from the entrance hall broke my thoughts. Dean was back. His tall figure, bringing with it a chilling aura, stepped into the house. I took a deep breath and went to meet him. I took his discarded suit jacket and hung it up. I knelt halfway, opening the shoe cabinet and pulling out his soft house slippers. This action, I had rehearsed for four years. Dean seemed entirely accustomed to it. He pulled off his tie and tossed it carelessly onto the console table by the entrance. “Don’t forget to attend the group’s fiftieth-anniversary celebration next month.” My hands, changing his shoes, hitched for a fraction of a second. I gently shook my head. “I might have something that day. I won’t be able to make it.” After that day, I wouldn’t be Mrs. Sterling anymore. But those words, I couldn’t bring myself to say. Dean’s brow instantly creased at my reply. “What kind of tantrum are you throwing *now*?” His voice dripped with impatience. “Because I’ve been spending more time with Chloe lately? Avery, I warned you the first day we got married: don’t fantasize about things that don’t belong to you. And cut out that pathetic, resentful act; it frankly disgusts me.” I was just preparing to disappear from his world entirely after the contract expired, never to be an eyesore again. But he thought I was protesting his kindness to Chloe in this way. I opened my mouth, then closed it, saying nothing. Dean’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and his expression instantly softened, revealing a tenderness I’d never seen him show me. Chloe’s sobs drifted from the receiver, and Dean asked, his voice laced with concern and gentleness: “Chloe? What’s wrong? Don’t cry, tell me slowly.” Chloe on the other end seemed to be saying something disjointed. Dean kept reassuring her: “Don’t be scared, I’m here. Where are you right now? Okay, I’m on my way!” He hung up, not even sparing a glance for me, still half-kneeling on the floor. He grabbed his car keys and rushed out. His movements were so hurried that his shoulder slammed heavily into my body. I was already off-balance; with that immense force, my body lurched uncontrollably backward. My forehead crashed hard against the sharp edge of the doorframe. Excruciating pain instantly exploded from my temple, and my vision swam with flashing lights. But Dean’s figure had already vanished through the door, rushing into the cold night, without even a single glance my way. The enormous house fell silent. I leaned against the wall, slowly getting to my feet, the throbbing pain in my temple making me dizzy. I walked to the full-length mirror by the entrance, staring at the pale woman reflected there. My temple was already a rapidly swelling, angry red, with faint traces of bruising beneath. I went into the living room, found an ice pack in the medicine cabinet, and pressed it to the injury. The chill of the ice pierced my skin, yet it was nothing compared to the dull ache in my chest, a persistent, gnawing pain like a blunt knife repeatedly dragging across my heart. For four years, this was how I’d lived, repeatedly comforting myself. Smoothing over those visible and invisible wounds, then continuing to play the role of the docile, attentive Mrs. Sterling. Late into the night, my phone rang. It was Dean. I swiped to answer. His voice came through the static, devoid of any emotion. “Come to the hospital.” I instinctively asked, “What happened? Are you hurt?” “Just come.” The call was ruthlessly cut off, leaving only a cold dial tone. Without another thought, I grabbed a coat and rushed out. The night wind was biting, and I drove as fast as I could. What on earth had happened? Was it Chloe? Or him? I sped to the hospital, running toward the emergency room building as soon as I parked. From a distance, in the corridor outside the operating room, I immediately spotted that familiar tall figure. Dean stood before the operating room door, its red light glowing. He was holding someone tightly in his arms. Chloe buried her face in his chest, trembling with sobs. They were embracing so tightly, the scene was so ironic, as if I, the one who had rushed over, was the outsider. 2. **Avery’s POV** The air in the corridor, permeated by the scent of disinfectant, felt particularly cold. I stood rooted to the spot, feeling as if all the blood in my veins had frozen solid in that frigid atmosphere. I watched the two figures locked in a tight embrace not far away. Dean had his head bowed, softly comforting the sobbing Chloe in his arms, the lines of his profile gentle, as if he were a completely different person. That was the tenderness I had spent four years trying to earn, to no avail. I could barely breathe. It took me a long time to make my already stiff legs move again, one slow step after another, toward them. Dean heard my approach and looked up. The moment he saw me, the fleeting tenderness in his eyes quickly vanished, replaced by that familiar, chilling indifference. “What happened?” I forced myself to speak. Dean looked at me with those terrifyingly still eyes and spoke slowly. “Chloe’s mother had an acute leukemia flare-up. Her condition is critical, and she needs an immediate bone marrow transplant.” I instinctively asked, “What?” “We’ve done an urgent city-wide search of bone marrow registries, but we haven’t found a suitable match.” Dean looked at me, as if stating an indifferent fact as mundane as the weather, completely unrelated to me. “I got tested. It was a match. Now, you’re here to sign.” “…You’re going to donate bone marrow?” My pupils tightened. I knew what a bone marrow transplant entailed. He was going to take such a risk for Chloe’s mother? “I didn’t call you here for your opinion.” Dean coldly cut me off, then gritted out the two most cruel words: “Only because you’re family.” Only a spouse had the authority to sign. So that’s it. My sole value as his wife was to provide a legally necessary signature when he decided to risk his health for another woman. How ironic. “Okay.” “I’ll sign.” I nodded. A nurse promptly offered a surgical consent form and a pen. I took them, looked down at the signature line, and quickly wrote my name. As I finished the last stroke, I felt utterly drained, as if all the strength had been sucked out of me. Dean released Chloe, helping her to a nearby chair. He murmured a few soothing words, then turned and strode toward the operating room. Just as the door was about to close, I called out to him: “Dean!” He paused, turning his head to look at me, his gaze devoid of emotion. For a moment, I wanted to ask him. In these four years, had you ever, even for a second, felt anything for me? But meeting his cold eyes, I knew the answer would only bring me more disappointment. In the end, I only managed one sentence: “Be careful.” His eyes seemed to flicker almost imperceptibly, but he said nothing. He turned and walked into the operating room without a backward glance. I finally, completely understood. His love for Chloe was soul-deep, capable of risking his own life. And my four years of devotion and waiting? Nothing more than a cruel joke. In the corridor, I sat on a cold bench. Chloe, opposite me, wiped her tears and sat down next to me, speaking in a soft, gentle tone: “Mrs. Sterling, I’m so sorry, I’ve troubled Dean again because of my affairs.” “I was so foolish back then, thinking leaving him would force him to forget me. I never imagined he’d still love me so much.” “Do you know? One year, he secretly flew to Paris, all because I casually mentioned liking a certain jewelry necklace that was about to be released.” Chloe smiled, continuing to needle me. “But I was still angry then, so I just threw the jewelry box back at him.” I remembered that necklace. Dean had returned from that business trip to Paris and casually tossed a delicate velvet box to me, his tone indifferent: “Someone gave it to me. I don’t like it. You deal with it.” I opened it and was thrilled to see the dazzling four-leaf clover necklace. I thought it was his first, and only, gift to me. I treasured it in the bottom of my jewelry box, never daring to wear it, often taking it out and gazing at it for hours. Turns out, the thing I held so dear was nothing more than Chloe’s discarded trash. “And another time,” Chloe’s voice drifted in again. “I was feeling down in the middle of the night, so I posted a really sad social media post. Guess what? He actually flew from the country to New York overnight just to be with me. Even though I didn’t want to see him, he stood outside in the rain all night long.” I remembered that time. It was after Dean returned from a business trip, soaking wet, and he forcefully pinned me beneath him, taking me with a raw, almost desperate passion. I had naively thought it was proof of his longing for me after days away, a breakthrough in our relationship. Turns out, that wasn’t love at all, nor was it passion. It was merely him taking out his unfulfilled desire for another woman on me, his readily available substitute. “These four years,” Chloe’s voice was full of triumph. “I ignored him, hoping he’d give up, but Dean relentlessly pursued me, sending someone to deliver a bouquet of Lisianthus to me every single day.” The language of Lisianthus flowers is unchanging love, eternal waiting. I felt a sudden wave of dizziness. He didn’t like any plants in the house; he said he was allergic. Because of this, I, who always loved fresh flowers, hadn’t bought a single one in four years. Yet, he had effortlessly ordered flowers for someone else for an entire four years. I was a complete and utter fool. Four years of marriage, a meticulously planned deception. “I’m leaving now.” I couldn’t listen to her anymore. I stood up, pushing open the hospital doors, my exit turning into a desperate escape. I feared that if I stayed one second longer, I would drown completely in this four-year-long illusion. 3. **Avery’s POV** After fleeing the hospital, I locked myself in the villa for three days straight. The necklace I had carefully treasured was someone else’s discarded trash. The passion I thought we shared was merely a tool for someone else’s frustration. The late-night companionship I cherished was nothing more than me witnessing a prolonged declaration of love for another. Four years, fourteen hundred and sixty days—I had lived as a complete substitute, a shadow. Not even a shadow, just an insignificant backdrop in his love story. The butler knocked on my bedroom door. “Madam, Mr. Sterling Sr. requests that you and Mr. Sterling join him for dinner at the estate tonight.” I didn’t refuse. It was a Sterling family tradition, a monthly gathering, absolutely non-negotiable. It took me a long time to cover the exhaustion and pallor on my face with thick concealer. I changed into a proper long dress, once again playing the role of the gentle and virtuous Mrs. Sterling. This was the last time. In the evening, Dean returned, his face a little pale, but still as tall and proud as ever. Seeing me, he simply gave a faint nod, a mere acknowledgment, then went straight upstairs to change. Throughout it all, he didn’t ask why I had suddenly left that day, nor did he ask how I had been these past few days. It was as if I were merely a prop needed to attend a family dinner. The Sterling estate was brightly lit, but the atmosphere was as oppressive as ever. Mr. Sterling Sr., Dean’s father and the group’s patriarch, sat at the head of the table. Halfway through dinner, an older relative spoke with concern: “Dean, you and Avery have been married for four years now, but there’s still no news of a baby? We’re all waiting for grandchildren, you know.” At those words, everyone’s eyes fixated on my flat stomach. Oh no. Dean put down his cutlery, dabbed his mouth with a napkin, and said indifferently: “No rush.” Those three light words instantly ignited Mr. Sterling Sr.’s anger. He slammed his fork down on the table. “No rush?!” Mr. Sterling Sr. glared at him. “You’re thirty already, how much longer do you want to wait?! Avery, I ask you, as a wife, do you bear no responsibility at all?!” The矛头(blame/focus) instantly shifted to me. I put down my fork, stood up, and bowed my head slightly. “Dad, it’s my fault.” “Of course, it’s your fault!” Mr. Sterling Sr.’s voice grew even more severe. “I heard you even signed some paper a few days ago, agreeing to Dean’s bone marrow donation surgery? Absurd! The Sterling family’s lineage, our bodies are precious! Is it something a mere wife like you is qualified to decide?!” “Dad, this was my own decision.” Dean interjected, frowning. “You shut up!” Mr. Sterling Sr. snapped. “You have no right to speak here! Avery, you’ve been married into this family for four years, haven’t given birth to a child, and now you can’t even look after your husband’s body. You are a most derelict wife!” Saying that, he gestured to a maid. The maid immediately brought over a bowl of dark, bitter-smelling liquid medicine. “This is medicine I specifically had a renowned doctor prescribe for you. Drink it!” Mr. Sterling Sr. commanded. I looked at the bowl of medicine, my stomach churning. For the first time, I chose to resist. “Dad, I’m sorry, I won’t drink this medicine.” Everyone was stunned, including Dean, who gave me an unexpected glance. Mr. Sterling Sr.’s face was ashen. He pointed a finger at my nose and roared: “You dare defy me! Are you challenging the Sterling family’s rules? Guards!” Two burly bodyguards immediately stepped forward. “Take her to the courtyard! Make her kneel! She can get up when she’s understood her mistake!” I didn’t resist, allowing the bodyguards to lead me out. Throughout it all, Dean sat there, watching indifferently. He didn’t even say a single word in my defense, only averting his gaze the moment I was led away. As if everything about to happen in the courtyard had nothing to do with him. It was a bitter cold autumn night. The Sterling family discipline had always been strict; this wasn’t the first time I’d been punished by kneeling, but it would be the last. After this kneeling, there would be no more. The cold seeped from my knees into my bones, making me shiver uncontrollably. Through the study window, I could clearly see Dean’s silhouette. He didn’t come out. Instead, he sat on the study sofa, on a phone call. I couldn’t see his expression, but I could imagine that on the other end of the line was undoubtedly Chloe. Time ticked by, minute by minute. The sharp pain in my knees had turned numb, and the cold gradually blurred my consciousness. I didn’t know how long I had knelt, only that my body grew colder and colder, and the scene before my eyes began to spin. A second before losing consciousness entirely, I saw Dean in the study finally hang up the phone, stand up, and draw the curtains. He had completely cut off my last sliver of hope. Turns out, he wasn’t unaware; he simply didn’t care. Everything went black. I lost all sensation.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “325322”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

To test my husband’s management skills, Dad sent me to do a surprise inspection of the company he was running. As soon as I walked in, I noticed a new, peculiar room in the office. Inside, there was a large pink bed and a vanity table. Moments later, a woman, dressed provocatively, emerged from the room, carrying a glass of water. I was about to step forward and confront her when her hand trembled, spilling the water onto a power switch. The entire company went dark. Annoyed, I asked an intern standing nearby, “Who hired that idiot woman?” The intern immediately shushed me. “Lower your voice! That’s our CEO’s wife. I heard this whole company belongs to her.” I froze. She’s the CEO’s wife? Then what am *I*? I pulled out my phone and called Dad. “Dad, forget the evaluation. Tell David to come to the office, and bring the divorce papers!” On my first day secretly inspecting my husband’s company, I immediately noticed it felt different. The old nursery had been turned into a pink princess room. Curious, I watched a young, provocatively dressed woman walk out of it. I asked an intern standing near me, “Who is that woman?” The intern seemed scared of her. He leaned in, whispering, “Quiet! That’s Tiffany Reed, our CEO’s wife. You must be new here, right? You’ll get used to it.” She’s Mrs. Hayes? So what does that make *me*? I couldn’t believe David would cheat so brazenly! He even moved his mistress’s *bed* into the company building! The intern sighed and continued, “She usually just stays in the private room Mr. Hayes gave her, playing games or watching TV. She doesn’t really interact with us. Mr. Hayes must be out for a meeting today, and no one’s around to entertain her, so she came out to play.” His words made my head buzz. “Her private room? The one with the huge pink bed? This is a company, not a resort!” I tried my best to control my anger. The intern shook his head and said, “What can we do? Our CEO just dotes on his wife.” He saw the look on my face and asked with concern, “Are you okay? You look terrible.” I forced a smile. “I’m fine, just a little surprised. It’s certainly… an eye-opener to see someone like that in a company.” The intern gave a wry smile and shrugged. “You’ll get used to it. She doesn’t really do anything harmful. We just have to tolerate it, and pray she gets bored and goes back to her room.” I didn’t say anything more. I watched Tiffany skip away from the lounge area, humming a tune. I pulled out my phone, ready to call Dad directly. But after a moment’s thought, I put it back. Leaving now would be letting David off too easy. Dad had sent me to evaluate his capabilities. Now, it seemed, his competence, and his character, were both seriously flawed. I wanted to see just how ridiculous this company had become under his management. I straightened my clothes and walked to the reception desk. “Hi, I’m Ashley Miller, from corporate, here for a project review.” “Could you please arrange a temporary workstation for me? Somewhere quiet, if possible.” “Also, this inspection is internal, so I’d prefer Mr. Hayes doesn’t know I’m here.” The receptionist nodded respectfully. I walked into the office area, found a corner desk, and settled in, my gaze fixed on Tiffany, who was not far away. She was holding a glass of water, curiously studying a fire alarm button on the wall, seemingly debating whether to press it.

David wasn’t in that morning. Tiffany must have gotten bored playing games in his office. She strolled out of the General Manager’s office again. She wandered around the office floor. One moment, she was poking at a colleague’s newly drawn design sketch. The next, she was messing with another colleague’s keyboard, typing out gibberish. Everyone was furious but dared not speak up. They just held their breath when she approached, and frantically checked their work after she left, hoping it hadn’t been ruined. She drifted over to the water cooler. She was probably thirsty again, so she picked up a disposable cup to get some water. Either she didn’t hold it steady, or it was on purpose. Her hand trembled. A full cup of water, precisely, accurately, splashed directly onto the wall next to the water cooler. Right where the main power switch for the entire office floor was located. There was a loud *CRACK*, followed by a shower of blinding sparks. The lights across the entire office instantly went out. Every computer screen, without exception, turned black. A few seconds later, the office erupted in a chorus of groans and frustrated shouts. “My code! I spent all morning on it! It’s not saved!” “My design draft! The client has been hounding me, it was just one step away!” “My report! It’s due at 2 PM! It’s over, everything’s ruined!” Mark Johnson, the Head of the Tech Department, rushed out of his office first, drawn by the commotion. He saw Tiffany standing there, looking utterly innocent despite the mess she’d caused, and his face instantly turned ashen. His lips moved, his fists clenched and then relaxed, but he ultimately swallowed his words. Tiffany, however, spoke first, her voice dripping with indignation. “What happened?” “This switch is so cheap! It broke just from a little water. Why is everything in this company such low quality?” Her ability to lie so brazenly was truly astonishing. Sarah WilDavids, the Head of Administration, also hurried over. She first looked at the chaotic, smoking power switch, then at Tiffany. She immediately plastered on a forced, subservient smile. “Tiffany, are you hurt? Did it scare you?” “It’s not your fault at all. It must be old wiring. We’ll fix it right away. I’ll get someone to replace it with a new, waterproof one immediately!” “Why don’t you go back to the office and rest? We’ll handle things here.” Tiffany pouted, seemingly not entirely satisfied with this outcome, but said nothing more and turned back into David’s office. Only then did the Head of Administration wipe the cold sweat from her brow and start directing the tech team to fix the problem. As she passed my desk, I called out to her. “Ms. WilDavids, does this happen often?” She glanced at me, recognized me as being from corporate, and a bitter expression crossed her face. She pulled me into the stairwell of the fire escape, lowering her voice. “You’re an auditor, right? There are some things I shouldn’t say, but today’s incident…” She sighed and continued. “Honestly, she’s Mr. Hayes’s wife. We can’t do anything.” “Mr. Hayes is away for a meeting today, so no one can control her.” “Normally, when Mr. Hayes is here, he can at least keep her locked in his office…” Her face was filled with helplessness and despair. “Last time, she ‘accidentally’ knocked over a cup of coffee.” “That coffee spilled right onto our main server.” “All our company data was corrupted. The tech department pulled all-nighters for a week to restore it. We all lost an entire week’s worth of work!” “And what happened then?” I asked. “Mr. Hayes said our tech department was negligent in supervision, that the server’s location posed a safety hazard, and he docked our entire department’s quarterly bonuses.” “He said it was a ‘lesson’ for us.” My heart sank, heavy and cold. This was David’s management style. He was letting an idiot run wild, then making all his hard-working employees pay for her stupidity. David, you’re truly something. Just then, the door to the General Manager’s office opened again. Tiffany poked her head out and yelled, “I’m so bored! Why isn’t the power back on? My phone’s almost dead! Are there any snacks in the breakroom?” No one answered her. The entire office floor was filled with an oppressive, absolute silence.

Just as the engineering team finished restoring power, Dad called. He asked me to retrieve some core data from the Marketing Department. He said the company’s board meeting that afternoon needed the file, and that I absolutely had to handle it myself, without any mistakes. I took my USB drive, copied the data from the Marketing Director, and went to the print room. I had just finished organizing the documents and clipping them together when the print room door swung open. Tiffany strolled in, holding a bubble tea. Her eyes lit up when she spotted the stapler next to my hand. “Hey, can I borrow that? My snack bag came open.” She said, reaching out to grab it as if it were hers by right. I instinctively pulled the documents and stapler back, out of her reach. These documents were highly confidential company information. Her hand grasped at air. Her body, propelled by momentum, lurched forward, and her foot caught on a cable. The bubble tea in her hand flew out. The brown liquid arced in a perfect parabola through the air, landing squarely on the confidential documents I had just printed. The thick stack of A4 papers was instantly soaked through with bubble tea, turning into a sticky, ruined mess. I looked at the destroyed files, unable to maintain my detached composure any longer. I looked up, my gaze falling on Tiffany’s face. She showed no remorse. Instead, she seemed annoyed that I hadn’t lent her the stapler. My voice was icy. “Can you even begin to pay for the damage you’ve done to these files?” Tiffany was probably experiencing someone in the company questioning her with such a tone for the first time. She froze for a moment. Then, her face contorted with fury. “How dare you speak to me like that?!” “Do you even know who I am?” She puffed out her chest, looking indignant. “I’m Mr. Hayes’s wife!” I looked at her, my insides completely calm, almost amused. “Oh?” I calmly countered. “Mr. Hayes’s wife can just freely destroy company property? She can ignore company rules and regulations?” My retort clearly challenged her authority. She became furious, pointing a finger at my nose. “Of course I can!” “This company belongs to my husband, so it belongs to me! I can do whatever I want!” Her voice grew shrill, like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Who do you think you are? A new hire telling *me* what to do?!” Colleagues, hearing the commotion, started to gather. Seeing the scene, they were terrified, barely daring to breathe. A few female colleagues from Admin quietly tugged at my sleeve, their eyes pleading, signaling me to apologize quickly. I didn’t move. I just watched her silently. Tiffany, seeing that I was unmoved, felt she was losing face in front of everyone. She pulled out her phone, a smirk of triumph on her face. “Fine, you wanna play tough? Think you can defy me?” “I’m calling my husband right now to tell you who *I* am, and who *you* are!” She immediately FaceTimed David. The call connected quickly. She held the phone screen towards herself, ready for David to come to her rescue.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “325323”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

The city shimmered with a private fireworks display on the night Channing Sterling announced his engagement. I was on my knees, scrubbing floors in a high-end club, clutching the diagnosis in my hand: terminal stomach cancer. He was there, holding that woman with the innocent eyes, his foot casually pressing down on my hand, crushing my finger bones. “Scarlett, look closely. *This* is the woman Channing Sterling is going to marry.” “As for you, you only deserve to crawl in the gutter and atone for your sins.” I bit my lip, swallowing the metallic tang that surged in my throat, not uttering a sound. He didn’t know these hands had once dug for him for three days and three nights in the ruins, already ruined beyond repair. He knew even less that the “murderer” he hated so much had only three months left to live. If you want me to atone, then I’ll give you my life. How about that? Channing had booked out the entire top-floor VIP lounge to celebrate Serena’s return to the country. The manager found me then. I was hiding in the changing room, gulping down painkillers. My stomach was on fire, searing pain making me break out in a cold sweat. “Scarlett, hurry up! Mr. Sterling specifically asked for you to serve drinks. Don’t you dare mess this up for me!” The manager rushed me, snatching the cleaner’s uniform I’d just put on. He tossed me an incredibly revealing bunny girl outfit. “Put this on. If Mr. Sterling isn’t happy tonight, your brother, clinging to life in the hospital, will be thrown out of his room tomorrow!” At the mention of Leo, the refusal I’d been about to voice died in my throat. I looked at my pale, skeletal reflection in the mirror. I forced a smile, uglier than a cry. Scarlett, what are you still being dramatic about? Your dignity was torn to shreds by Channing himself three years ago, on that rainy night. The moment I pushed open the lounge door, a tidal wave of noise crashed over me. But my eyes instantly found Channing, seated at the head of the main table. He wore a black shirt, collar slightly unbuttoned. He swirled a half-glass of red wine, his gaze cold and lazy. And nestled in his arms was Serena, in a white dress. The air in the lounge froze for a moment when I walked in. Then came the unrestrained jeers of the rich brats. “Well, well, isn’t that New York’s former It-girl? How did she fall so far?” “This is karma! Back then, she almost killed Serena just to climb the ladder. A vicious woman like that deserves it!” Channing heard them and lazily lifted his eyelids. His gaze landed on me, devoid of any warmth. “What are you standing there for? Come over and pour Serena some wine.” I moved stiffly. Walking to the coffee table, I knelt, picking up the decanter with trembling hands. A violent spasm gripped my stomach. My hand shook, and a few drops of red wine splashed onto Serena’s pristine white skirt. “Ah!” Serena shrieked, shrinking further into Channing’s arms. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” I frantically tried to wipe it, but Channing’s foot slammed into my chest. “Get out! Don’t touch her with your filthy hands!” The kick was merciless, holding nothing back. I flew backward, my spine hitting the hard edge of the table, the pain making my vision black out. A metallic taste rose in my throat. I bit my lip hard, terrified that the blood would spill out and stain his sight. Channing looked down at me, his eyes full of disgust: “Scarlett, you’re truly sickening. You can’t even do this little thing right. Were you trying to be deliberate?” “Trying to get my attention with these cheap tricks? You’re not worthy.” I lay on the floor, taking a long time to manage to prop myself up. Get his attention? Right, in his mind. Scarlett was just a conniving bitch who would do anything for money. Even now, when I was dying. He would only think I was faking it, putting on a show. Serena’s eyes were red-rimmed, and she tugged at Channing’s sleeve, her voice soft and sweet: “Channing, don’t blame Scarlett. She surely didn’t do it on purpose… It’s just a shame about this dress; it was a special birthday gift from you.” Channing tenderly patted her hand. When he turned to look at me, his eyes instantly turned sinister. “Since you’ve ruined Serena’s dress, you’ll pay for it yourself.” “Drink these ten bottles of Louis XIII on the table. Finish them, and I’ll pretend nothing happened tonight.” “Otherwise, you can crawl out of here.”

Ten bottles of Louis XIII. For a healthy person, that would be a deadly amount. Even more so for me, a terminal stomach cancer patient. The doctor had warned me. My stomach couldn’t even handle a single drop of anything spicy now. Drinking alcohol was suicide. I looked up, peering through my messy hair at Channing. His expression was cold and resolute, with no hint of joking. “Mr. Sterling, I… I can’t drink.” I pleaded humbly. “I’m not feeling well. Could you… perhaps give me a different punishment?” “Not feeling well?” Channing sneered. “Scarlett, stop with your hypocritical games. When you pushed Serena down the stairs, did you ever think about how *she* felt?” “When you took five million dollars to dump me, did you ever think about how *I* felt?” Raking up old wounds, every word stung my heart. I opened my mouth, wanting to explain. I wanted to say that it wasn’t me who pushed Serena; she rolled down herself to frame me. I wanted to say that the five million was to save *his* life when he was in the ICU. I gave all the money to the doctors. I had to sell my blood to cover the subsequent expenses. But what good would explanations do? In these three years, I had explained countless times. But all I got in return was his deeper disgust and more brutal beatings. “Not going to drink, huh?” Channing lost patience, signaling to the bodyguards nearby. “Force it down her!” Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, grabbing my shoulders. The icy liquor was forcibly poured down my throat, making tears stream down my face as I choked. The burning liquid flowed down my esophagus into my stomach, instantly causing violent cramps. Agonizing, heart-wrenching pain. I struggled desperately, but I was no match for their strength. One bottle, two bottles… Until the fifth bottle was forced down. I finally couldn’t hold it in and threw up. The vomit was mixed with startling bright red. Inside the lounge. Some guests looked at the blood on the floor with uncertainty. “Oh my god, she’s spitting blood…” “Is it real? Or is she faking it?” Channing looked at the pool of blood, his brows furrowing slightly. An almost imperceptible flicker crossed his eyes. But the next second, Serena’s horrified voice rang out: “Oh! What’s going on? Scarlett, did you prepare a blood bag beforehand to scare Channing?” “I saw you use that trick before, when we were on set…” One sentence instantly dispelled all of Channing’s doubts. The flicker in his eyes vanished, replaced by an even more intense mockery. “Scarlett, you’ve really grown some nerve. To avoid punishment, you’d stoop to such disgusting tactics.” “It seems these years in jail, you learned nothing else, but your acting skills have certainly improved.” He stood up and walked step by step towards me. He crouched down, savagely pinching my chin. “Since you love acting so much, I’ll give you a chance to put on a show.” “Lick up what’s on the floor.” I stared, wide-eyed, disbelievingly at him. The twisting pain in my stomach made my whole body tremble, cold sweat had already soaked through my clothes. But the pain in my heart was a hundred times worse than my body’s. This was the man I had loved for ten years. This was the man I had saved. Willing to ruin my hands, willing to bear scorn, willing to sacrifice my health. “Channing… just kill me.” I closed my eyes in despair, tears tracing paths down my temples. “Kill you? That would be too easy for you.” Channing gave a cold laugh, throwing my face away. He pulled out a wet wipe and fastidiously cleaned his hands. “Serena is someone *you* can bully? You’ll kneel here tonight until morning.” “If you’re even a minute short, I’ll have your brother’s ventilator turned off.” With that, he scooped up Serena and walked out of the lounge without a backward glance. His group of awful friends also followed suit. Before leaving, they didn’t forget to spit on me and kick me a few times. The lounge finally fell silent. I curled up on the cold floor. Unable to help myself, I vomited large mouthfuls of blood. The bright red blood stained the white fur of the bunny girl outfit. I shakily pulled out the crumpled lab report from my pocket. Looking at the word “terminal” on it, I let out a bitter laugh. Channing, you win. This life, I probably can’t ever repay the debt I owe you. But it was clearly… *you* who owed me a life.

That night, I truly knelt in the lounge all night. I passed out several times, only to be jolted awake by excruciating pain. The next morning, the cleaning lady came in to tidy up. When she saw me, covered in blood, she screamed. I clung to my last breath, crawling back to the dark, damp rental apartment. There, I had my only spiritual solace. It was the last sketchbook my mother had left me. I was an oil painting student, once hailed as a child prodigy. My hands, once praised by my tutor as “hands kissed by God.” But during that earthquake rescue. To dig out Channing, who was buried under the rubble. My ten fingers suffered severe fractures, my nerves were damaged, and I could never hold a paintbrush again. And Serena. She became his savior simply by handing him a bottle of water when he woke up. I fumbled to open the locked tin box. Empty. My heart sank instantly, an ominous premonition engulfing me. That was my everything! I frantically searched the entire apartment, but it was nowhere, absolutely nowhere! Just then, my phone rang. It was an MMS from Serena. The photo showed a burning brazier. Inside the brazier, that familiar sketchbook was being consumed by flames, only half of its damaged cover remaining. Immediately after, a voice note came through SnapChat. Serena’s sweet voice, barely concealing her malice, said: “Scarlett, I heard this was your mother’s last memento? I thought it was too old and smelled musty, so I helped you get rid of it.” “Don’t blame me, though. Channing said that looking at your things annoyed him, so I could do whatever I wanted with them.” “Oh, and by the way, Channing also said that a cripple like you keeping a sketchbook is an insult to art.” That was the only keepsake my mother left me, my motivation to live in despair. Now, it had been burned to ashes by them. My hand holding the phone trembled violently. “Serena! I’ll kill you!” I stumbled out of the house, running towards Sterling Manor. In that moment, I forgot the pain in my body, I forgot the cancer in my stomach. Only one thought consumed my mind— I was going to drag them down with me! When I burst into Sterling Manor’s garden. Channing was with Serena, pruning flowers. In the sunlight, they looked perfect together. I lunged forward, pushing Serena aside, and fiercely clamped my hands around her neck. “Why did you burn my sketchbook! Why! Give me back my mother!” Serena screamed, struggling desperately. “You lunatic! Help! Channing, help me!” Before I could apply more force, a huge power suddenly struck me from behind. Channing delivered a savage kick to my waist. I flew through the air, crashing heavily against the stone wall of the fountain. My waist felt like it had broken, the pain excruciating. I lay on the ground, unable to get up for a long time. Channing rushed forward, immediately pulling a startled Serena into his embrace. Then he turned, glaring at me venomously. “Scarlett, you’re looking for death!” “It’s just some worthless sketchbook! So what if it’s burned? Why are you throwing a fit? How dare you come here and try to attack her!” Worthless sketchbook? I looked up, tears streaming down my face, my heart dead. “That was… my mom’s last memento… it was the only thing… I had left in this life…” Channing looked down at me: “Someone like you, you actually talk about feelings?” “If your mom knew you sold your body for money, and murdered for power,” “She’d probably be so angry she’d crawl out of her coffin and die again!” “Scarlett, I’m warning you, this is the last time. If you dare to lay another finger on Serena, I’ll end your life!” I lay on the ground, looking at this man I had loved for ten years. Every word he spoke. Was like a blunt knife, carving into my flesh, slice by slice. I didn’t understand why fate was so cruel to me. I saved him, I loved him, I gave him everything. Only to be met with this outcome. “Channing…” I weakly called his name. “If one day… you knew the truth… would you regret it?” Channing paused, then laughed as if he’d heard the funniest joke. “Regret? The biggest regret of my life, Scarlett, is ever knowing a woman as utterly deceitful as you!” “Someone, get her out of here! Don’t let her dirty Serena’s sight!” Several bodyguards came over, dragging me like a dead dog. I didn’t struggle, letting my body be scraped against the rough ground. My gaze, however, remained fixed on Serena not far away. She was hiding in Channing’s arms, giving me a victorious smile. Just as I was being dragged out the main gate. I vomited another large mouthful of blood. This time, the blood stained the expensive Persian rug in Sterling Manor. Channing looked at the puddle of blood, his brows tightly knit, a flicker of inexplicable panic in his eyes. But he quickly turned away, no longer looking at me. I was dumped on the roadside outside the mansion. A heavy rain began to fall, the icy water hitting my body, chilling me to the bone. Lying in the mud, I looked up at the gray sky and suddenly smiled. My tears and the rain mingled. Channing, I owe you nothing now. In this life, I owe you nothing more.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “325324”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

That evening, I got home and pulled open the bathroom door, only to find my mom’s new, younger boyfriend stepping out of the shower. He was stark naked, a condom dangling from his mouth. He looked at me and chuckled. “Like what you see?” Turns out, he was even a student at my university. **1** My dad passed away early, and my mom became a super-rich woman. I’m pretty open-minded, so I never cared about her having fun with other men. She had a revolving door of boyfriends, each one younger and hotter than the last. That’s why, even though my college was close to home, I rarely went back. But this time, it was changing seasons, and most of my summer clothes were still at home. I’d unlocked the door earlier and hadn’t heard a sound, assuming no one was home. I was desperate to pee, so I burst in, only to discover a man roughly my age, completely nude, water still clinging to his skin. Taut, sculpted muscles, a perfect V-taper, and then… what was between his legs. I froze on the spot. Oh my God! He still had that condom in his mouth! He arched an eyebrow at me and smirked. “Enjoying the view, cutie?” He was incredibly handsome, with an irresistible youthful charm. His words made my cheeks burn and my heart race. I quickly spun around and practically fled, suddenly not needing to use the bathroom anymore. Just then, my mom came out of her bedroom. “What’s wrong with you? Your face is so red.” I forced a laugh. “Just the changing seasons, Mom. It’s a bit hot.” At that moment, the handsome guy emerged, wearing a loose T-shirt. “Brenda, what are you doing out here? You were too quick.” My mom’s eyes crinkled with laughter immediately. They say women in their prime have the strongest desires. Was my mom *that* desperate? This guy even called her Brenda, he really knew how to charm her. I rushed to my room to pack my clothes, and before I left, I warned her. “Mom, I don’t mind you changing boyfriends, but please don’t tell me he’s underage!” **2** During the time I was away from home, that handsome face and intoxicating body kept invading my dreams. I’d been single for twenty years and always thought I had no desires. But ever since that first glimpse, I found myself frequently watching *certain films*. Just thinking about him made my knees go weak. I’d had a falling out with my roommates and couldn’t stand being around them. So, I grabbed my suitcase and headed home. I’d just booked an Uber and was waiting by the campus gate when someone called out to me. “Daisy? Heading home?” It was my mom’s toy boy! He stood with his hands on his hips, a smirk playing on his lips. My mom must have told him my name. When I didn’t deny it, he lifted me by the waist and swung me onto his motorcycle in one smooth motion. “Come on, it’s on my way.” I had to cancel my Uber. He told me his name was Barry, and that he went to my school. That’s when I realized I’d heard of him. My roommates were totally obsessed with him. They said he was super arrogant, but I guess my mom had tamed him. Barry wasn’t exactly behaving himself. All along the way, he kept suddenly hitting the brakes. It made me slam hard against his back, and my chest stung. I wasn’t wearing a bra! “Hold on tight, I don’t want you to fall off.” “You’re really soft back there.” My face flushed and my heart pounded, but inside, I was a total mess. This was my mom’s boyfriend. How could I even think like this? But I liked him so much. I wanted to try adult stuff with him. If he kept my mom happy, he must be good in bed, right? My mom had a rotating roster of guys; she probably wouldn’t mind if I ‘borrowed’ him for a bit. Immediately, I wrapped my arms tightly around his lean waist. His defined muscles were undeniable, and touching them sent a shiver through me. Through the soft fabric, I could feel the warmth of his body, and I couldn’t help but shift, pressing myself against his back. His body stiffened, and a low groan escaped his lips. That startled me, and I instantly pulled my hands away. **3** When we got home, we both immediately pretended nothing had happened. But after waiting for quite a while, my mom still hadn’t returned. Barry told me my mom was away on a business trip for a month and wouldn’t be back anytime soon. A daring idea suddenly popped into my head, but I quickly pushed it down. Later, while I was showering, the power suddenly went out. I slipped and fell, hitting the floor so hard I couldn’t get up. My mind was a blur, and I was trembling uncontrollably in the dark. I’d been afraid of the dark since I was a child and had even been diagnosed with claustrophobia. Just then, Barry crashed through the door. He had a flashlight. Without a word, he scooped me up and gently, patiently, wiped my body dry with a towel. All my clean clothes were soaked, and the rest were in my suitcase, which I couldn’t find in the darkness. My foot and butt hurt like hell from the fall, so he carried my naked body to the bedroom to rest. He explained that a massive thunderstorm had caused a power outage, and the electricity wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. “I didn’t mean to see you like that. But you saw me last time, so I guess we’re even.” He made to leave, but I summoned my courage and hugged him from behind, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I’m scared of thunder. Can you stay with me?” Something hard pressed against my hand. I gave it a gentle squeeze. Barry practically jumped away. “Don’t tempt me. I’ll stay with you.” He sat motionless on the edge of my bed. My foot was really swollen, so I lifted my leg and rested it on his thigh. “It hurts so much. Can you massage it for me?” He was incredibly obedient, gently rubbing my foot, and soon the swelling went down. I noticed his eyes kept drifting up my legs. “Do you hurt anywhere else? I can help with that too.” “My butt got bruised in the fall too.” I flashed a seductive smile and lay flat on the bed. His warm hand enveloped me, and soon, the sheets beneath me were damp. He started teasing me then, his fingers tracing a path, inch by agonizing inch, downwards. “Looks like it’s wet down there. Did you hurt yourself, too? Want me to help you out?” That night, we stopped just short of crossing the line.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “325325”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

I gave him a child and spent seven years in this marriage, yet even seeing my own son depended on the mood of him and his assistant. They thought I would never leave this marriage. Until the day I overturned every last bit of their so-called dignity at the family table and threw the divorce papers straight in his face. From that moment on— this marriage was officially over. On our eighth wedding anniversary, my husband sent me a massive bouquet of roses. As soon as I came out of surgery, I called him and calmly asked for a divorce. On the other end of the line, his girlfriend sobbed an apology: “Mrs. Parker, it’s all my fault. Please don’t be angry with Mr. Parker.” Liam Parker gently comforted her for a while, then coldly said to me: “As you wish.” When I saw him again, it was already half a month later. “Make me some pasta, will you?” Liam Parker returned home early in the morning, but didn’t see the usual hot meal waiting on the dining table. He frowned instinctively, giving me a couple of instructions before heading to the bathroom. When he emerged surrounded by steam, I was still absentmindedly staring at the TV. He took several designer handbags out of his suitcase: “Take a look, do you like them?” The pink bags seemed to be the styles young girls favored most. In the past, when he tried to make up with me, he would always cater to my tastes. Now, he was just trying to appease me with thoughtless gifts. I couldn’t be bothered to look, so I picked up the remote and changed the channel, asking him: “When do you have time to get divorced?” Liam Parker was very busy; even our anniversary gift was chosen by his female secretary. When it came to scheduling, I had to accommodate him. “Stop being difficult. Olivia didn’t know you hate roses. I’ll remind her next time.” The man poured himself a small glass of red wine and sat down in the armchair opposite me, with an ambiguous smile. Olivia was Liam’s childhood friend. She had liked him since they were young, so as soon as she graduated, she quickly became his personal assistant. Their relationship was so close that they even stayed in the same suite during business trips. Actually, I didn’t blame Olivia for pursuing Liam. After all, it takes two to tango. If he didn’t want it, no woman could climb into his bed. I exaggeratedly yawned, tears unconsciously welling up in my eyes. After not hearing my reply for a long time, Liam Parker thought the matter was over. He asked about our seven-year-old son’s recent test rankings. I shook my head: “I don’t know.” I wasn’t refusing to tell him because I was angry. I really didn’t know. The Parker family pursued elite education, so our son had been attending boarding school since he was young, with a packed schedule of various courses every day. Laughably, even though I gave birth to this child, I rarely got to see him. I cried and made a fuss about it, but the Parker family remained unmoved. In their view, my marrying into the Parker family was already my greatest honor. As for anything else, I couldn’t even dream of it. Liam Parker pinched the bridge of his nose, telling me to focus more on our child: “If this continues, Olivia will become more like his mother than you.” I understood. Yesterday was Friday, the only day I was allowed to pick up our son from school. I arrived an hour early and waited until the sky darkened and the school gates closed. Then Olivia called to tell me that Mrs. Parker had asked her to pick up the child and take him home for dinner. On the other end of the line, I heard Liam’s voice. He was laughing and asking Olivia if she wanted some soup.

I snapped back to reality and said to Liam with a mirthless smile: “Isn’t this what you wanted? I’ll leave right away and make room for her.” I don’t know which word struck a nerve with Liam, but he fell silent for a few seconds before exploding in anger: “My patience has limits. Chloe Bennett, stop being so difficult.” The man stood up and took a couple of steps before I calmly said: “I forgot to tell you, I had a miscarriage.” One month ago. That night, he received a call from Olivia and rushed out just to help her avoid drinking, while I was in so much pain I nearly fainted. I drove myself to the ER. The doctor told me I had been pregnant for over two months, but the baby had no heartbeat and had already miscarried. When I learned the child was gone, I actually felt relieved. Lying alone in the hospital room, I thought it was time to end this marriage. In the living room, Liam Parker stood with his back to me, gripping his wine glass tightly, his knuckles turning white. He didn’t ask why I hadn’t called him. He knew very well how many times I had called him that night. Unfortunately, no one answered. “It doesn’t matter if you lost it. The fact is, you’re not capable of being a mother.” Liam Parker walked to his study and skillfully closed the door. In seven years of marriage, there had been countless arguments. I was always the first to back down. However, this time, Liam Parker never heard the sound of a pleading knock on his door. Half an hour later, he opened the door and searched the entire house, but couldn’t find me anywhere…

I was Liam Parker’s first love. No one would have imagined that a well-mannered, handsome rich boy would fall in love with a rebellious, party-loving girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Our first meeting wasn’t pleasant. In a stinking alley, the honor student was being threatened by some thugs. I happened to be passing by when someone whistled at me. So I rode my bike into the crowd, inadvertently solving a life crisis for the introverted rich kid while teaching the thugs a lesson. From then on, Liam Parker kept following me around. He would follow me after school, and I couldn’t get rid of him no matter what. He sent me roses, and I coldly threw them into the toilet to soak, then tossed them back onto his desk. He personally made me an extremely expensive lunch, and I gave it to a beggar on the street. My girlfriends teased me about having a rich and enthusiastic puppy following me around. Everyone could see that he and I were from different worlds. But it was this person who, when I couldn’t go to school because my alcoholic father had beaten me, forcibly barged in and carried me to the hospital. While the doctor was stitching me up, he stood with his back to me, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably as he kept wiping his face. The doctor asked him, bemused, why he was crying when he wasn’t the injured one. He said he didn’t know why, but his chest hurt terribly. He even asked the doctor, foolishly, if he needed an ECG. In the hospital room, Liam Parker clumsily peeled some fruit. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore, Chloe. Please don’t get hurt again.” I ate the ice cream he bought and mumbled okay, then glared at him: “So will you be my boyfriend?” For the whole day, we both blushed and couldn’t speak. I told Liam Parker a secret. Every time my dad got drunk and beat my mom half to death, a wilted rose would appear in our house the next day as an apology. So if one day he wanted to break up with me, there was no need to say it out loud. Just give me a rose. “Silly girl, we’ll be together forever.” The 18-year-old boy hugged me tightly, not allowing me to say any more foolish things. To escape my father’s unreasonable behavior, Liam Parker took me abroad to study. To force us to break up, his father cut off all his financial support. At that time, besides going to school, we had to work two part-time jobs each day. Those days were so difficult and busy, but Liam and I couldn’t help teasing each other even while brushing our teeth. In our tiny apartment, we laughed and bickered, our eyes full of nothing but each other. If only we could have spent the rest of our lives like that…

“Miss Bennett? Are you alright?” The doctor’s words pulled me back to reality. Today was the third day since I had moved out of the mansion, and my old insomnia problem had worsened again. I took the prescription the doctor wrote and ran into Olivia while picking up my medication. “Mrs. Parker, why did you come to the hospital alone?” Olivia blinked innocently, and seeing that I didn’t respond, she looked at me with sympathetic eyes: “I heard from Liam that you lost the baby… Don’t be sad, you’re still so young, you’ll definitely have another chance.” “Don’t worry, there won’t be another chance.” As soon as I finished speaking, I saw Liam walking over with a dark expression. I noticed he was tightly gripping an inhaler, though I didn’t know why he was angry. Olivia coyly told me that she had slightly sprained her ankle when going downstairs because she wasn’t paying attention. It was such a minor injury that she didn’t need to see a doctor, but Liam had insisted on bringing her, causing her to miss work. Seeing the medication bag in my hand, Liam couldn’t help but ask: “Are you feeling unwell?” Seeing that I was ignoring him and about to leave, he actually snatched my medication away. “When did the insomnia start?” “Chloe Bennett, I’m talking to you. How long are you going to keep this up?” Liam Parker thought I had left home out of anger, as a ploy to get his attention. So until now, he had never tried to find out where I was living or what I had been doing these past few days. He unconsciously raised his voice, causing people around to stop and stare at him. A flash of weariness crossed my eyes as I snatched back the medication from his hand and said softly: “I’m not acting up.” Perhaps my tone was too gentle and calm, because Liam Parker thought I was backing down. He suggested taking me home first, then driving Olivia back to the office. But I shook my head. “Work is more important. I can go by myself.” By “go back,” I meant back to my own home. My alcoholic father died in a car accident, leaving me a huge settlement. And the house I once desperately wanted to escape had now become my only refuge. Watching my desolate figure walk away, Liam Parker pursed his lips, about to take a step forward when Olivia grabbed his arm. The woman told him, her face pale, that she suddenly felt very unwell. It was probably a hypoglycemic episode. Liam Parker hesitated for a moment, but didn’t follow me. He turned and walked towards a nearby vending machine.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “325326”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

He suddenly gripped the back of my neck and bent down to kiss me. My breath was stolen, my body trapped in his arms. I should have pushed him away—but I froze. He stopped, his forehead resting against mine, his voice nearly breaking. “Don’t leave me again.” In this life, I feel no fear. Given another chance, I finally understand— he would never hurt me. Because the man who kissed me is my brother. I blinked, and I was twenty-two again, standing beneath the hawthorn tree in our miserable backyard. Mark’s arms were around me, his voice a sweet poison at my ear. “Just pour it in his drink,” he murmured. “He trusts you. This’ll knock him out. Then we leave. Tonight.” His fingers pinched my wrist. I didn’t look at him. I looked through the kitchen window. Leo stood in the doorway, white T-shirt, sleeves rolled up. A knife hung loose in his hand, forgotten. His face was pale, expression blank, winter-gray eyes locked on Mark’s grip on me. Memory slammed into me—those same eyes red and ruined as I left him bleeding, his voice echoing from beneath the dirt. I shoved Mark back. “What’s wrong with my brother?” I asked flatly. “He’s dangerous,” Mark snapped. “He’s trapping you.” A slow smile cut across my face. “He just loves me too well.” I turned away from my killer and walked toward the house—toward my jailer, my savior, my sin, my only home. The moment I stepped inside, Leo grabbed my arm and dragged me into the dark living room without a word. His silence was worse than shouting. Last time, I’d fought and screamed while he tied me to this chair, watched his face shatter as I called him a monster. He’d finished silently and told me dinner was meatloaf. My favorite. This time, I stayed quiet. I watched his scarred hands bind my wrists with his belt—careful, precise. He tucked cloth beneath the knot so it wouldn’t hurt. The tenderness nearly broke me. “You don’t have to tie me up,” I said softly. He didn’t believe me. His eyes held no trust. To him, this was just a smarter lie. Words were useless. So I spoke the only language he understood. I let my shoulders slump, let my voice tremble. “Leo… it hurts.” Three seconds. Then he was on his knees, panicked, fumbling with the belt. The control vanished. His hands shook. I reached up, fingers sliding into his hair. He froze. I traced the corner of his eye and whispered, “This time… let me protect you.” I meant it. Mark and Chloe wouldn’t use his love as a weapon again. I would end it—quietly, carefully—without dragging him back into the dark for me. Not this time.

“Lily, what was that?” Mark cornered me behind the 7-Eleven the next day, irritation cracking through his polished act. “You were supposed to drug him. We had a plan.” Last time, I’d believed him. Now I saw the spoiled coward underneath. “If you don’t do it tonight,” he hissed, “don’t expect me to rescue you. Stay with your psycho brother forever.” Forever. Once a threat. Now, a dark promise. Memory flashed—me pouring powder into Leo’s milk, his trusting eyes, his body fighting the drug, the fall, the snap, his bloodied hand clawing for me. They’re bad. Trust me. I’d called it madness then. Now I knew it was truth. I focused back on Mark. “This won’t kill him, right?” Before he could answer, Chloe slid in beside me, smiling sweetly, slushie-red lips curved in mock concern. “Just enough to knock him out,” she whispered. “Your brother’s a creep anyway.” The word lit something cold and lethal in me. But I swallowed it, nodded, played afraid. Inside, I was already dismantling them. That night, Leo knew. The second I shut the door, his voice was at my neck. “You saw him again.” He was burning with fever, stubbornly upright, hurt masked as control. When he finally sagged, I guided him to the couch. For the first time, I cooked for him. Soup, simple and real. He watched every move like it might be poison, then ate anyway. I talked—about the future, about leaving, about something better. He listened, wounded disbelief in his eyes. “Prove it,” he said finally. The power cut. Darkness swallowed the room. His presence closed in—fear, need, devotion tangled tight. Not violence. A plea. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered. Last time, I ran and destroyed him. This time, standing in the dark with everything broken between us, I chose differently. I stayed.

The shaky peace we made in the dark got tested in the light. Leo’s fever broke, but a new, watchful tension took its place. He watched me all the time, his eyes like chips of ice. The memory of my kiss seemed to mess with his head as much as it claimed him. A few days later, he was feeding me dinner. Again, my hands were tied. It was our new normal—a quiet admission that trust was still broken. “Leo,” I said, drawing out his name, putting in a sweetness I used to save for Mark. The spoon stopped right at my lips. “Lily.” His voice was flat, a scientist stating a fact. “Last time you used that voice, you almost got me sent to jail.” He was talking about when I planted stolen stuff in his room and called the cops, a nasty, desperate try to be rid of him. He was just telling it like it was, but under the table, my leg brushed against his. He went still. A faint pink hit his pale cheeks, making him look weirdly young, exposed. If I hadn’t felt him lose control in the dark a few nights before, I might have bought the act. “Leo,” I tried, “you ever believe in fate?” No answer. Just those wary eyes. “I had a dream last night. About the future.” I leaned in as much as the ties let me, holding his stare, trying to beam truth into him. “In the dream, I married Mark. You broke your leg trying to stop me. Later, Mark and Chloe plotted to kill me for my money. You… you dragged that busted leg of yours all over the world. You hunted them. You got revenge for me.” My voice got thick with the memory of a death I actually lived. “So now, I really, really hate Mark.” I put every ounce of real feeling I had into it. Leo’s face didn’t change. His eyes stayed cold and blank, like a frozen pond. “Oh yeah?” he said finally, leaning in so close I felt his breath on my neck. “Funny. I had a dream too.” His whisper was a snake in the grass. “In mine, my little sister was so desperate to get away from me, she made up a beautiful, perfect lie. She tricked me into buying it, made me think I finally had her… and then she left me behind. She put me to sleep and walked right out the door.” A chill that had nothing to do with the AC slithered down my spine. For one scary second, I wondered if reality had cracked, if he remembered a past life too. Because in my last life, that was exactly what went down. The night I drugged him, I held his face, looked into his hazy eyes, and whispered, “I’ll never leave you, Leo. I promise.” Then I watched his eyes close, turned around, and walked out without looking back. If that was the dream haunting him, no wonder he wanted me tied to this chair. I let out a soft, airy laugh, a sound with no humor in it. He frowned. “What?” “Never mind, Leo.” I met his look, dropping all my guards, showing him the tired, stubborn truth underneath. “Do whatever you want to me. I’ll take it.” But going along with his crazy didn’t mean giving up my mission. Mark and Chloe were getting antsy. Their clock was ticking, and so was my chance to get proof from inside their game. To do that, I needed freedom. I needed Leo to take me somewhere he couldn’t follow, and then I needed him to leave me there. The plan was simple, brutal, and I knew it would cut him deeper than any slap. But it was the only way. I turned the shower to ice-cold and stood under the blast until my teeth chattered and my skin was covered in goosebumps. Later, with my hair still wet, I hit it with the cold setting on the hairdryer, driving the chill right into my bones. I’d always gotten sick easy; it was one of the many things Leo worried about. By that evening, the ache was in my sinuses, my throat was scratchy, and a familiar heat was brewing behind my eyes. Perfect. When I walked out of the bathroom, towel on my head, Leo was on the couch, a book open but ignored in his lap. His dark eyes tracked me like a hawk. I didn’t have to fake the stumble. The room tilted a little as a real wave of dizziness hit. I let out a soft “whoa” and fell forward, not to the floor, but right into his lap. His arms came up on instinct, catching me, holding me. For a weird second, I felt like one of those sneaky spirits from old stories, using weakness as a trap. But Leo’s look had no charm in it, just a deep, scary stillness. “You’re burning up,” he stated, his palm flat on my forehead. The worry was there, but buried under layers of doubt. “Think I got a fever,” I mumbled, letting my head drop against his shoulder, breathing in his pine-and-storm smell. He didn’t ask questions. In one smooth move, he scooped me up, grabbed his jacket, and was out the door, carrying me to the taxi stand. In the back of the cab, I leaned on him, shivering, clinging to his coat. He pressed his hand to my forehead again, and I felt the tiny shake in his fingers. He always panics because of me, I thought with a guilty twist in my gut. He’s perfect in every messed-up way, and I’m his one big flaw. At the ER, he was a storm of quiet panic. He rushed me in, his voice tight explaining to the nurse. He sat me in a hard plastic chair in the packed waiting area, his hands fussing over me, fixing my coat, tucking my hair back. “Stay here, sweetheart,” he murmured, his rough voice softer than I’d ever heard it outside. “I’ll go take care of the paperwork. I’ll be right back. Be good, okay? You’ll feel better soon.” He leaned down and pressed a quick, desperate kiss to the corner of my mouth—a mark, a promise, a plea. Then he was gone, swallowed by the bright, busy halls. I waited until he turned the corner. My heart was beating like a wild thing. With shaky hands, I slipped off his big coat, leaving it in a heap on the chair like a shed skin. I stood up, the room swaying just a little, and walked out of the hospital, into the cold, empty night. The city at night was a different animal. The spot Mark gave me was a busted-up warehouse in the industrial south side. The sky was starting to lighten to a dirty gray, but the warehouse was a pit of shadows. It felt less like a spot to run away to and more like a place you get murdered. I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. As I walked, my phone buzzed nonstop in my pocket. Forty-five missed calls. All from Leo. The screen glowed in the half-dark like a guilty conscience. I silenced it, the action feeling like a punch to the gut. I got to the far end of the huge, empty space. The rising sun painted the broken windows in weak gold and pink. And there, lit up by that sad light, was the scene. Mark was tied to a metal chair, a rag stuffed in his mouth, his eyes huge with animal fear above it. He wriggled weakly against the ropes. And behind him, leaning casual against a rusty post, was Leo. My brother. His hands were in his jeans pockets. He was fiddling with something small and plastic—a phone’s SIM card. He looked totally calm, totally in charge, like an artist looking at a finished painting. Right then, all the pieces smashed together with a final, deafening click. The weird voice on the phone. The callback that was too easy. Mark hadn’t been testing me. It had been Leo all along. He’d grabbed Mark, taken his phone, and played me. And I’d walked right into it, saying the things I needed to say to convince “Mark.” “Leo? I can’t even stand to look at him.” “He’s just a dog that won’t stop following me around.” “The day he dies? I’ll throw a party.” The words echoed in my head, each one a nail in the coffin of his trust. I’d said them to save us, to buy time, to play my enemies. But he’d heard them as my real, honest truth. Oh, crap. I was so, so totally screwed.

The rising sun cut a sharp, bright line across the dusty floor, splitting the warehouse in two—light and dark. Leo and I stood on opposite sides of that line. I was frozen, my throat tight. “Leo…” His name came out a dry croak. He tilted his head a little, the move of a predator. His beautiful, empty eyes fixed on me. “You here to beg for him?” He nudged Mark’s chair with his boot. The metal legs screeched. Mark whimpered behind the gag, his eyes pleading with me. “Leo, listen… I’m not on his side,” I blurted, the words too fast. “But we can’t… we can’t just do this. We can’t break the law.” Even to me, it sounded weak, like something a bystander would say. “So,” he cut in, his voice flat, totally empty of the stormy feelings I was used to, “you are here to beg for him.” This Leo was a stranger. Cold. Detached. It was the calm before he broke himself, and it scared me more than any of his rages ever had. What could I say? That I was collecting evidence? That the drug was for testing? That every cruel word was a lie for the bigger plan? He wouldn’t buy it. Any excuse would sound like another layer of the beautiful lie from his dream. The thin string between us was stretched to snapping. I thought he’d yell. I thought he’d drag me home and tie me up again. This quiet giving up was worse. It felt like sinking in quicksand—slow, silent, and suffocating. After forever, he sighed. It was a soft, broken sound that seemed to hold all the hurt in the world. “Lily,” he said, and my name in his mouth had never sounded so final. “You know I love you, right?” He wasn’t looking at Mark anymore. He was looking only at me, and his eyes were pits of a pain so deep it had iced over. “I’m scared of a lot of things. And every single one is about you. I’m scared you’ll get hurt. I’m scared you’ll get lost. I’m scared you’ll leave me.” He took a step, not toward me, but along that line of light, like he was walking the edge of a cliff. “For days, I’ve been asking myself… how much do you hate me? Hate me enough to wreck yourself just to get away from me?” He stopped and looked at me, really looked, and what I saw in his face broke me. “Now I know.” His voice cracked, just once, but his expression stayed carved from ice. “I know that even if I hold onto you with everything I’ve got, you’ll still walk away. So, Lily, I’m done trying to stop you.” He turned and gave Mark’s chair a hard, final shove, sending it sliding into a patch of shadow. Then he walked away, his figure getting smaller, swallowed by the dark at the other end of the warehouse. “You and him,” his voice floated back, already fading. “Have a nice life. Don’t forget to go to the hospital. I won’t be taking you anymore.” And he was gone. The silence he left behind was huge. It was filled only with Mark’s frantic, muffled grunts. I stood there, the truth of his words seeping into me like poison. He’s letting me go. The one thing I’d fought for last time was now the one thing that felt like a death sentence. Leo didn’t want me anymore. He had finally, really, given up.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “325327”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn