Category: English

1 At a college reunion, my boyfriend, Rhys, called me a worthless idiot in front of all our friends. My best friend, Zoe, couldn’t take it anymore and pulled me aside. “Look, Ava,” she said, her voice low and urgent, “Everyone in our friend group, since we were kids, has thought Rhys treats you like crap. Why are you still so desperate to cling to him?” Huh? Is that really how they all saw us? A torrent of comments flooded my mind, a phantom stream only I could see. 【Don’t listen to them, Ava! He’s just all bark and no bite. He’s totally, completely in love with you!】 【Classic tsundere. He’ll regret losing his temper in a second, but he’s too proud to apologize. He’s probably curled up in a corner somewhere, hating himself right now.】 Zoe pressed on, her words tumbling out in a rush. “He painted a portrait for that protégée he’s known for three months. He takes shots for her at parties. He even knows her damn period schedule, the difference between daytime and overnight pads…” Her eyes locked on mine. “And you? You drove thirty miles through a storm to get him the wrong kind of paintbrush, and this is how he treats you?” In that moment, I finally ignored the screen. And I was certain. Rhys didn’t love me. Returning home, I found Rhys waiting, his eyes red-rimmed. The moment I walked in, he hurled the paintbrush at my face, his voice a raw mix of anger and hurt. “Are you blind? You can’t even tell the difference between a long-handled and a short-handled brush? Are you good for anything besides causing trouble?” He spat the words out. “You’re pathetic, Ava.” The hard edge of the brush split the skin on my forehead. A drop of blood trickled down, and when I touched it, my hand came away stained crimson. Rhys froze. He let out a sharp, cold huff and turned away, his back rigid as he fumbled through the medicine cabinet. Watching his frantic movements, my heart gave a familiar, foolish flutter. 【Aww, he’s definitely panicking inside. The genius of the art world, helpless against his clumsy girl. I’m shipping this so hard.】 【See? He was mad, but the second he saw her hurt, he softened. It’s so cute.】 But the fragile moment was shattered by the ringing of his phone. It was his protégée, Faye. He dropped the first-aid kit without a second thought and grabbed his paint case. “Don’t worry, I’m bringing the pigments over right now,” he said into the phone, his voice suddenly gentle. “You’ll definitely make it for the competition tomorrow.” Before leaving, he tossed a cup of instant noodles onto the counter without looking at me. “Here. Eat this and go to bed. Don’t wait up.” I stared down at the cup. The noodles were a swollen, sticky mess, a few sad, rehydrated carrot bits dotting the congealed surface. I hadn’t eaten all day, my stomach aching with hunger after the long drive to that century-old art supply store thirty miles away, but the sight of the noodles turned it. “I’m not hungry. You should go.” Rhys’s brow furrowed into a deep line. His voice rose, sharp with frustration. “Now you’re playing the victim? Ava, are you a child? Can’t you just make my life easy for once?” 【I can’t with this heroine. She’s supposed to be the one saving him, but all she does is create drama. Does she have any idea what’s actually important?】 【Seriously. Thank God he’s patient enough to deal with her tantrums. This is getting painful to watch.】 I ignored the swirling text. I watched him smooth down his clothes and hurry out the door, his figure shrinking into a small black dot before disappearing at the end of the street. On the easel was an unfinished painting. I used to be the subject. But with Faye’s birthday approaching, he had hastily painted her over my half-finished form. The cut on my forehead throbbed. But I didn’t bother to clean it. I let the blood blur my vision, and then I picked up the brush I’d driven thirty miles for. And snapped it in two. 2 Rhys was never one for words. But the comments told me it was a form of deep, repressed love, and that I was his only salvation. It started in our first art class together. He glanced at the clouds I’d painted and scoffed. “That’s hideous. It looks like a caterpillar.” I was about to snap back when the comments erupted. 【That’s our male lead! A born critic, even as a kid, hahaha.】 【He’s just got a sharp tongue and a soft heart. He fell for her at first sight, you know. He’s dying to grab the brush and teach her himself.】 I blinked, then glanced over at Rhys. He was peeking at me from the corner of his eye. I pouted. “I just don’t have as many supplies as you.” His handsome brows knitted together in a show of impatience. He shoved his palette of expensive paints toward me. “Take them all. It’ll still be ugly.” His harsh, moody behavior continued for years, and for years, it grated on me. Until I was sixteen. I was walking home alone when a stalker lunged from the shadows, his hand clamping over my mouth. I thrashed wildly, but my limbs grew heavy, useless. I felt the rough tear of fabric as he ripped at my dress. Just before I blacked out, I saw a figure fly past. It was Rhys. He threw himself at the attacker. I was safe. When I woke up, I was in a hospital, and he was in the bed next to me. He’d been stabbed in the stomach and had two broken ribs, the bandages stark white against his skin. But his first thought was of me. I started to panic, but he cut me off, his face a blank mask. “Don’t get all sappy. I was just passing by.” He paused, his gaze hardening. “And you should think about why you were targeted. Always trying to look pretty. Maybe now you’ve learned your lesson.” His words were so ugly they stung more than any wound. I froze, a hot prickling behind my eyes. I looked down at myself. It was my birthday, and my mom had bought me a new floral dress. The teachers had even given me permission to wear it instead of my uniform. Was that my fault, too? The comments rushed to his defense. 【He only followed her home because he heard there’d been trouble in the neighborhood lately. He was secretly protecting her.】 【Totally! He was so jealous earlier when he saw the other guys telling her how pretty her dress was.】 【He’s the strong, silent type who shows his love through actions, not words. I’m crying. When will she finally open her eyes and see how much he adores her!】 I looked up, but all I saw was his averted gaze. And the terrible wounds covering his body. From that day on, I set aside my resentment. I started searching for his love in the spaces between the lines of the comments. And occasionally, I thought I caught a glimpse of it. It felt natural when I started to fall for him, and just as natural when we got together. But Rhys was, without a doubt, a genius. He was a once-in-a-generation painter. Geniuses speak to geniuses, and I was just… ordinary. Then he met Faye, his new protégée, and the delicate balance of our relationship shattered. When inspiration struck, he no longer shared it with me first; he’d rush off to find her. When his depressive episodes hit, he’d smash his canvases rather than let me into his studio, yet he made an exception for her, letting her sit with him, comfort him. When he won an award, he would embrace her first, then toss the trophy into my arms like an afterthought. I complained, countless times, but the comments always insisted he only saw her as a kindred spirit. A rare connection between two artists, a meeting of the minds. I wanted to scream, to demand, “What does she have that I don’t?” But that would be undignified. Humiliating. So I struggled, and I swallowed it all, trying to accommodate his moods, his closed-off nature, his rage. But this time, I was just so tired. Staring at the two halves of the broken paintbrush, a symbol of a past we could never return to, I picked up my phone and began to type a text. 3 One text. I wrote it, deleted it, and wrote it again. My fingertips trembled, and I realized my eyes were burning. Just as I was about to hit send, a call came through. It was Rhys. “Ava,” he said. “It’s raining.” 【He’s not talking about the weather, he’s offering an olive branch! Clumsy girl, you have to see it!】 【Oh my god, for someone with his issues, this is a huge step. He’s really trying, I’m gonna cry.】 The comments seemed to think it was an honor for him to even ask me to run an errand for him. In the past, no matter how late, how tired, or how far, I would have dropped everything to go get him. But not this time. “It’s not that bad,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m tired tonight. I don’t feel like picking you up. You can get upstairs on your own.” A few minutes later, I heard a key in the lock. “Don’t just stand there.” Rhys was half-shielding Faye with his body, carefully dabbing the rain from her hair with his sleeve. “Go get a hairdryer. Got no common sense?” Faye tugged on his shirt and offered me a small, apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Ava. Rhys is just blunt, he doesn’t mean it. You don’t have to trouble yourself, really, I’m fine.” She continued, her voice sweet and gentle. “We were at the studio so late, and my place is too far to get to before the competition tomorrow. I hope it’s okay if I crash here tonight. I heard you hadn’t eaten, so I brought you some sushi. I hope you don’t mind.” I forced a tight smile and held up a hand. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” The bento box suddenly clattered to the floor, spilling sushi across the wood. It was a chaotic, sticky mess. “Ava, have you had enough?” Rhys’s eyes went cold as he grabbed my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin. “Faye was being nice. What the hell is your problem?” Faye’s eyes welled with tears as she whispered, “Rhys, it was my fault, I dropped it…” But her voice was thick with a theatrical sob, as if she were the one deeply wronged. Rhys’s anger flared. He shook my arm off, sending me stumbling backward. I coughed, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Rhys. We’ve been together for seven years. Don’t you remember what I’m allergic to?” He flinched, but his gaze only hardened. He kicked the crushed sushi, sending a piece skidding across the floor to my feet. “You’re just being dramatic, Ava. No princess is born with a princess complex like yours. When you’re hungry, you eat what you can get. You’re just looking for a fight.” The sushi didn’t hurt when it hit my shoe, but I couldn’t stop the tears that threatened to fall. 【He’s dying of guilt right now. He was worried she wouldn’t like the instant noodles, so he specifically asked Faye to bring her dinner, and this is the thanks he gets.】 【This redemption-arc heroine is just an entitled brat. A good partner would be supportive. I feel so bad for him.】 【He’s not good with words, he’s always been like this! Can’t she stop pushing him?】 The comments were a blur of accusations. Ignoring them, I used the sofa to pull myself up and silently started packing a suitcase. Rhys’s fists clenched. He took two steps toward me, but stopped short when Faye let out a small gasp. “Rhys! Your paintbrush… it’s broken. I thought… I thought I was going to get my portrait as a birthday present…” 4 Rhys’s gaze darkened. He lunged forward and seized my shoulders, his fingers digging in painfully. He backed me against the wall. “Ava, what is this supposed to mean?” “There are seventy-nine paintings of you in my studio. Seventy-nine! Why did you have to destroy this one? The one for her birthday? Were you trying to humiliate her?” “First, you buy the wrong brush on purpose, and now you break it. You’re suffocating me, Ava.” My hands stilled. I lifted my head and met his furious eyes. “Is that who you think I am? Sensitive, fragile… petty?” Rhys’s lips formed a tight line. His eyes flickered away for a second, and he took a quick step back, creating distance between us. His gaze fell on the first-aid kit on the floor. He hesitated, almost moving toward it. 【He’s so sweet. Even in a fight, he’s still worried about her cut.】 【His voice is cracking. He regrets what he said. I feel like he’s about to shatter. Can’t she just hug him? Give in a little?】 But I couldn’t understand it anymore. And I didn’t want to. I quietly zipped up my suitcase. “Rhys, let’s break up.” The air in the room went still. Rhys’s back stiffened. He turned his head slowly, his expression one of disbelief. “…What did you say?” A flicker of triumph crossed Faye’s face before she hid behind him, her voice a fragile whisper. “Was it me? Am I making you angry by staying here? I’ll leave right now, I won’t be a bother, I’m so sorry…” “Don’t be scared. You’re staying. This has nothing to do with you,” Rhys said, his hand automatically going to her hair to soothe her. Then his face hardened as he turned back to me, his voice low and dangerous. “Ava, you know I don’t like jokes. And I hate it when people use ‘breaking up’ as a threat. If you walk out that door, there’s no coming back for us.” My nails dug into my palms. I nodded, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. “Okay. This is it, then.” Rhys’s pupils constricted, his shoulders trembling slightly. “Then you’d better have some pride. Get out. And don’t come crawling back when you’re lost in the middle of the night, begging me to pick you up.” The comments went into a frenzy. 【This is killing me. Stop saying the opposite of what you mean! You’re begging her to stay!】 【Hello? A difficult person needs a partner who won’t be pushed away. This is all Ava’s fault for not being the ‘little sun’ she’s supposed to be.】 Their accusations felt like a physical weight, pressing down on me. But I still didn’t understand. How could love be this cold? This volatile? How could it be built on insults and disdain? I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, pulled open the door, and shut it firmly behind me, leaving Rhys on the other side. 【I can’t take it anymore. What kind of redemption-arc heroine is this? She’s dancing on his grave.】 【Right? She knows all his triggers and pokes them just to hurt him. What’s the difference between her and some shrew from the market? Can we tell the writers to replace her with Faye?】 【I second that. Faye is sweet, obedient, and she actually understands him. They’re soulmates.】 I ignored their condemnation. Dragging my suitcase, I walked down flight after flight of stairs, and finally stepped out into the pouring rain.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444410”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

A company-wide Slack notification announced my “restructuring” under the Internal Conflict of Interest Policy. My fiancé Rory, the Sales Director, remained completely silent. Not a word of explanation. Whispers broke out immediately: “Since when do Tech and Sales have a conflict? And why fire the Tech Director?” Sophie, Rory’s childhood neighbor and the new tech intern, walked over with a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, Victoria. Leave peacefully. I’ll take over your work from now on.” I didn’t speak. I opened the severance email: seventy-five thousand dollars. I signed without hesitation. Becky, a junior developer on my team, was furious. “Victoria, aren’t you going to fight this?” I stood up, purse in hand. “There’s no need.” Sophie laughed softly, mockingly. “Fighting won’t change anything. Rory brings in tens of millions. Did you think the company would let him go?” I looked at her calmly. She had no idea how much a Tech Director truly carried. Thirty-two proprietary modules. Seventeen automation scripts. Lightweight LLM deployment. Model-driven architecture. The company’s foundations, built on five years of my work. No one else fully understood these systems. Rory didn’t come home until eleven, smelling of expensive whiskey. He looked at me, guiltless. “Victoria, you have to understand. We’re getting married soon. The company needs to avoid conflict.” I stayed quiet. His phone lit up on the coffee table. He snatched it fast—but I’d seen. Sender: Sophie. “Hey babe, the eyesore is finally out of our way.” I looked away and laughed quietly. It seemed there wouldn’t be a wedding after all. 1 I turned on the television in the living room, flipping aimlessly through the channels. My mind was a million miles away. I was trying to pinpoint the exact moment they started sleeping together. When Rory and I first started dating, he told me about his childhood neighbor. A sweet younger girl who grew up on his street. That was Sophie. Rory swore up and down that he only saw her as a little sister. Even his mother had pulled me aside once to assure me that Sophie was practically family, just a harmless girl from the neighborhood. So, when Sophie graduated from college and Rory asked if I could get her an internship in my department, I agreed without a second thought. I mentored her carefully for six months. I just never expected to mentor her right into my fiancé’s bed. Rory walked out of the bedroom, his face plastered with a mask of fake sympathy. “Honey, I am so sorry about what happened today. I know you are upset about being let go, and it sucks I can’t even stay up with you tonight. Once I finish this huge project, I promise I will take you on a nice vacation to clear your head.” I did not look at him. I just gave a vague hum of acknowledgement. He stood there, hesitating for a fraction of a second. “Are you mad at me?” “Please don’t take what Sophie said today to heart. She is just young and doesn’t know how to read the room. She was just joking around.” I finally turned my eyes to him. “So you heard what she said?” “Yeah.” “And you agree with her?” He did not answer. I turned off the television and stood up to head to the guest room. He grabbed my wrist. “Victoria, does any of this really matter? Women eventually have to step back to focus on the family and raise kids anyway. Having a highly successful husband reflects perfectly well on you. It gives you status.” I stared dead into his eyes. “Whose status? Rory the Director, or Mrs. Rory the trophy wife? Do you honestly think I spent sixteen years of my life studying advanced computer science just to be a footnote attached to a man’s last name?” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. I ripped my hand out of his grip and walked toward the hallway. He let out an exaggerated, exasperated sigh. “Fine. You are in a bad mood, so I am not going to argue with you. Take some time and cool off.” I ignored him and walked straight into the guest bedroom. He stood in the living room. He never followed me. A few minutes later, I heard the heavy thud of the master bedroom door closing. It was the first time we had slept in separate beds since we moved in together. On the night I was fired from my job. On the night I found out he was cheating on me. Surprisingly, I did not feel an overwhelming sense of grief. Instead, I felt a profound sense of relief. Relief that my entire future was not going to be destroyed by a marriage devoid of loyalty or basic human dignity. Truth be told, I was the one who got hired at the company first. Six months later, I personally recommended Rory to the CEO. His biggest sales accounts were only secured because I sat in on the meetings, breaking down the software’s performance and long-term scaling for the clients. He only reached the position of Sales Director because I carried him halfway there. Yet everyone in the corporate office genuinely believed he was the more valuable asset. Perhaps deep down, Rory believed he was entitled to my labor. That was why he orchestrated this incredibly cruel layoff. He wanted to lock me inside the cage of domestic life. He wanted me to silently toil away in the background, supporting his ascent without complaint. But I was never born to be someone’s accessory. And there was absolutely no way in hell I was going to sacrifice my career for a man who manipulated my livelihood just to screw his intern. I opened my laptop and navigated to my email. I pulled up the massive spreadsheet of wedding vendors. The florist, the caterer, the venue. Without blinking, I hit cancel on every single one and requested immediate refunds. Then I opened our shared financial documents. The house was jointly owned. We split the down payment, and we split the renovation costs. It was getting messy trying to figure out who spent a few extra dollars here and there. So I kept it simple. Cut it right down the middle. Whoever keeps the house pays the other their half of the equity. I tallied up the rest of our shared assets, dumped everything into a clean, itemized spreadsheet, and emailed it to Rory. He did not reply. I checked the clock. Eleven-thirty. He was definitely still awake. He always was at this time. The next morning, Rory said absolutely nothing about the spreadsheet. I didn’t bring it up either. He glanced at me over his coffee. “Is there anything else we need to buy for the wedding?” I knew exactly what he was doing. He was testing the waters. He wanted to know if my spreadsheet was a declaration of war or just an angry tantrum. “No. We are good,” I said evenly. “Great.” He exhaled a massive sigh of relief. “What are your plans for today?” I kept my eyes on my oatmeal. “I have to go back to the office. HR requested a final meeting.” He immediately put on a distressed expression. “You will have to take your own car then. I have a massive client meeting across town this morning.” I nodded slowly, saying nothing. He did not even finish his breakfast before rushing out the front door. The moment the lock clicked shut, I opened an app on my phone. The BMW he drove was legally mine, and I had installed a GPS tracking module on it for insurance purposes months ago. Thirty minutes later, the blue dot on the map parked right outside Oakwood Apartments. I had dropped Sophie off there after a team dinner once. I knew exactly where she lived. I took a screenshot, saved it to a secure folder in my camera roll, grabbed my keys, and left the house. When I arrived at the company lobby, I ran right into a radiant, glowing Sophie. She was wearing four-inch heels and a face full of flawless, expensive makeup. It was a stark contrast to my comfortable jeans, oversized sweater, and bare face. She strutted over, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Good morning, Victoria! Dressed a little casually today, aren’t we? Did you have to squeeze onto the subway to get here?” I looked at her, matching her polite smile perfectly. “I did. Unlike you, I don’t have a personal chauffeur to pick me up from Oakwood.” Her smile froze instantly, cracking at the edges. 2 I completely ignored her stunned silence and walked straight into the main office. Dozens of eyes immediately locked onto me. Some held pity. Some held regret. Some were gleaming with thinly veiled amusement. I had already experienced all of this yesterday. Today, they were just waiting for a sequel to the drama. I walked straight to the HR department. Rachel, the HR Director, offered me a polite smile and gestured to the chair across from her desk. The only reason she was being so courteous was undoubtedly because of Rory. In her mind, I was still the future wife of the company’s star Sales Director. “Victoria, let me just say congratulations in advance. Rory is an incredible catch. You are a very lucky woman.” She managed to say it without outright implying I was punching above my weight, but the tone was there. I smiled faintly, offering no response. She slid a thick folder across the mahogany desk. The cover page read Non-Disclosure and Non-Compete Agreement. I flipped it open. It was packed with dense legal jargon. The first few pages were standard corporate protection. No leaking trade secrets, no poaching current clients, no consulting for direct competitors within a specific timeframe. But the final two clauses stopped me dead. Clause 17: Party B is permanently prohibited from seeking employment or holding equity in the software development sector. Clause 18: Compensation for the aforementioned non-compete period will be paid in the form of 1% company equity, legally issued to the primary shareholder’s proxy, Rory. I sat in silence, letting the sheer audacity of those two sentences sink in. They were firing me, banning me from my own career path for the rest of my life, and giving my severance package directly to Rory. Tying Rory to the company with my equity meant tying me to Rory. They wanted Rory to step on my neck to reach the top. This contract was designed to force me into total financial dependence. I would become the little housewife spending her husband’s money, just like the office gossips whispered about. The CEO wanted my technical architecture for free. Rory wanted my severance to build his own empire. The audacity of their little scheme was almost impressive. After two seconds of dead silence, I actually laughed. I looked up at Rachel. “So, you are legally trafficking me?” Her polite smile vanished, replaced by a subtle, defensive sneer. “There is no need to be dramatic, Victoria. You are a top-tier technical asset. You built the core architecture for our biggest projects. The company has to protect its investments.” “A top-tier asset? Then why is the company firing me?” She choked on her words for a second. “Well, that is… because of the conflict of interest policy.” “Why doesn’t that policy apply to anyone else? I know for a fact there are at least three other couples in this building. Two of them are legally married. Do you want me to list their names?” Her face tightened. “They are mid-level employees. You and Rory are both executive directors. The risk is completely different.” I kept my eyes locked on hers, my smile never fading. “Is that right? We were dating when we both signed our initial contracts. Why wasn’t the conflict of interest a problem back then?” Her expression darkened into open irritation. “This is a decision made by the executive board. You arguing with me is pointless. I am just here to get your signature, not to debate corporate history.” I pushed the heavy folder back across the desk. “I am not signing it.” “You are refusing?” She looked at me like I had lost my mind. “Do you have any idea how much 1% of this company is worth?” “I am perfectly aware. It matches my annual salary. Roughly one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, with the potential for aggressive growth.” “Then why on earth are you refusing?” “Is the equity being issued in my name? What does that money have to do with me?” She blinked, genuinely thrown off. “The equity goes to Rory. You two are getting married in a month. What is his is yours, right?” I looked at her, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “Rachel, you are married, right?” She nodded cautiously. “Yes.” “Then you understand how pre-nuptial assets work, don’t you?” She froze, her mouth slightly open. “We are not legally married yet. This agreement is pre-nuptial. Whether that equity is worth a hundred thousand or ten million dollars, legally, not a single penny belongs to me. Yet I am the one signing away my right to work in my own industry forever. Why in God’s name would I agree to that?” She stammered, trying to regain control. “Between a husband and wife, keeping score like this is…” “We are engaged. Not married.” I cut her off cleanly. “Rachel, if I asked you to sign a legally binding contract that gave your entire severance package directly to your husband’s personal bank account, would you sign it?” “Well, obviously not, but…” “Then why should I?” I stood up, looking down at her from across the desk. “Rachel, maybe you are comfortable depending on a man to survive. But I am Victoria. I don’t need a man’s charity. I have the drive to build my own life, and more importantly, I have the talent to back it up.” I turned on my heel and headed for the glass door. Panicking that she had failed her one objective, Rachel stood up quickly. “Victoria, be reasonable! This is about protecting corporate interests! You and Rory are going to be husband and wife. He holds the keys to our most sensitive sales data. If he accidentally leaks something to you while you work for a competitor, who takes the fall?” “He won’t.” “Excuse me?” “He won’t tell me anything. Because the wedding is off.” 3 I walked out of the HR suite and headed straight for the sales floor to find Rory. As I passed the CEO’s office, the door was wide open. Marcus, our CEO, was leaning back in his leather chair. He turned his head, and our eyes met. His face was a complete blank void. He looked away instantly. I did exactly the same. Without breaking my stride, I marched right into the glass-walled sales conference room. I pushed the door open. The entire sales team went dead silent, staring up at me. I ignored every single one of them. I walked directly up to Rory, reached across his laptop, and snatched the keys to my BMW right off the table. I turned around and walked out. The entire interaction took less than five seconds. Three seconds after I exited the room, my phone buzzed. It was Rory. “You need the car?” “Yes,” I replied coldly. “Could you have given me a little warning? I have a massive dinner meeting with clients tonight.” I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “I need to give you a warning before I drive my own vehicle?” He hesitated, his voice dropping into a defensive hiss. “Are you having another meltdown? Is this just because I gave Sophie a ride this morning? She sprained her ankle, Victoria. She lives on my route. I was just helping her out.” “You can chauffeur her around for the rest of your life for all I care. Just don’t do it in my car.” I hung up on him before he could say another word. I took the elevator down to the underground parking garage and unlocked my car. The moment I opened the door, a sickeningly sweet, artificial vanilla perfume assaulted my senses. I actually coughed. When I looked at the interior, my blood ran cold. Rory and I operated on completely different schedules. Sales required him to travel and entertain clients constantly, so his hours were erratic. Lately, I had just been taking the subway to avoid the terrible downtown traffic. My beautiful, minimalist cream-leather interior had been completely desecrated. Every surface was covered in pastel pink, girlish accessories. There were heart-shaped plush pillows stuffed into the back seats. Sitting neatly on the floorboard of the passenger seat was a pair of fluffy, pink bunny-ear slippers. I stood there for a few seconds in absolute silence. Then, methodically, I pulled every single item out of the car and shoved them all into the nearest concrete trash bin. Once the interior looked like my car again, I finally felt a fraction of my sanity return. Halfway through my drive home, Rory called again. “Victoria, what exactly did you say to Rachel? What do you mean we aren’t getting married? Stop throwing a childish tantrum and get back here to sign the paperwork.” I took a deep breath, keeping my eyes on the highway. “It is not a tantrum. I am not signing the contract, and the wedding is officially cancelled.” The line went completely dead for a moment. I could hear his breathing falter. “Victoria, do you have any idea what you are saying right now? We have been together for six years. We bought a house together. And now you are just calling it off? What the hell is going through your head?” My voice was terrifyingly calm. I even surprised myself. “Nothing complicated. I just realized you aren’t worth the trouble.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I hung up, tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, and let it ring endlessly. When I got to the house, I started grabbing a moving box. I packed away every trace of us as a couple. The matching coffee mugs, the electric toothbrushes, the framed photos. Everything went into the cardboard box. Right as I was taping it up, my phone rang. It was Rory’s mother. Her voice dripped with her usual condescending sweetness, though there was a sharp edge of annoyance underneath it. “Victoria, sweetheart, are you and Rory having a little spat? Listen to me, he is just under a lot of pressure at work. His job is very demanding, much different from yours. You need to be a supportive partner and show some understanding.” I seriously wanted to give the woman a standing ovation. She had mastered the art of being incredibly insulting without using a single curse word. “You are absolutely right, Mrs. Huo. I am clearly not good enough for your perfect son. So, I am calling off the wedding.” I hit the end button, pulled up her contact card, and permanently blocked her number. Thirty minutes later, the front door burst open. Rory stormed into the house like a hurricane. He started yelling before his coat was even off. “Victoria, my mother just called you and you blocked her? Are you out of your mind?!” I picked up a ceramic mug with our anniversary photo printed on it and casually tossed it into the moving box. It hit the bottom and shattered into jagged pieces with a sharp crack. Rory’s expression shattered right along with it. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, not looking up. “I won’t be talking to her ever again. Or you, for that matter.” He stared at the box, finally realizing that I wasn’t playing a game. “What exactly are you trying to say?” I dropped the tape dispenser and looked him dead in the eye. “Rory, did you look at the spreadsheet I sent you last night?” He flinched. A flash of genuine discomfort crossed his face. “I glanced at it. It is just the wedding budget, isn’t it?” “No. It is the house and the renovations. Eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars. If you want to keep the house, you buy me out. If you don’t, I will buy you out. The rest of our shared assets are itemized. We split it fifty-fifty.” He stared at me, his eyes wide with shock. “Are you seriously breaking up with me?” “Yes.” “Over getting laid off?” “That is just part of it.” “Then what is the real reason?” I gave him a look of pure disgust. “You know exactly what the reason is.” Panic began to set into his features. “Is this about Sophie? Victoria, I already swore to you, she is just like a little sister to me…” “Rory,” I cut him off, my voice sharp as glass. “I am not an idiot. Save whatever dignity you have left and stop lying.” I turned my back on him, walked into the guest room, and locked the door behind me. 4 He left shortly after that. He didn’t come back that night. I didn’t reach out to him. I had significantly more important things to deal with than a dead romance. Before I was unceremoniously fired, I had been secretly developing an AI-driven marketing agent in my spare time. It had already reached the final beta testing phase. The architecture and the proprietary scripts were entirely mine. I built them on my personal servers on my own time. The company had zero legal claim to them. That aggressive non-compete clause couldn’t actually stop me. Even if I never worked a corporate job again, I could license my software independently and live incredibly comfortably. I had stayed at the company purely out of loyalty. Loyalty to the team I built, and loyalty to Rory. I had just sent out the beta testing portfolio to several major tech firms when my phone rang. It was an old client, Mr. Henderson. I answered, and he was already shouting over the line. “Victoria, the entire backend is throwing 404 errors! You need to remote in and patch this right now!” I kept my voice polite and professional. “Mr. Henderson, I actually no longer work for the company.” “What?!” The shock on the other end was palpable. “Since when?” “Yesterday. I was caught in a restructuring.” He went silent for two full seconds before his anger boiled over. “Are they absolutely insane?! Firing you? Do they want to bankrupt their own business?” I smiled slightly. “Someone else has taken over my role. You will need to contact the current technical team, Mr. Henderson. I am legally restricted from interfering.” He cursed under his breath, said a quick goodbye, and hung up. Ten minutes later, Mr. Davies called. Then Mr. Chen. Then five more major clients. All screaming about the exact same system failure. I knew exactly what was happening. When I packed up my desk yesterday, I purged my personal code modules and my seventeen custom scripts from the company’s servers. A 404 error was just the beginning. The real nightmare hadn’t even started. Once those scripts were gone, the security redundancies would collapse. User data would leak, and financial encryption would fail. Around two in the afternoon, Sophie sent me a text. Hey Victoria, which tool were you using for the automated log updates? I can’t find it in the repository. I built it myself. I took it with me. You took it?! Why? That is corporate technical property! It was my personal IP. It was never registered in the company’s asset library. I just let you guys use it for free for five years out of goodwill. You can ask the legal department if you want. I broke zero laws. She didn’t text back. Half an hour later, my phone rang. It was Sophie. “Victoria, you need to get back to the office right now! The main servers just crashed and users are flooding customer service about data breaches—” “I don’t work there anymore,” I cut her off instantly. “The company’s problems have nothing to do with me. Stop calling my number.” “But you are Rory’s fiancé! How can you just stand by and watch his company burn?!” “Not anymore, I am not. And even if I was, it is not my legal responsibility to fix your mess.” I hung up the phone and blocked her number immediately. The second the call ended, Becky sent me a frantic screenshot. Victoria, the office is a warzone. The client portals are completely down. Users are posting about the data leaks on Twitter and it’s going viral. The company’s stock just dropped two percent. We’ve lost millions in the last hour alone! I zoomed in on the screenshot. It was a chaotic mess of furious clients threatening lawsuits in a massive group chat. I didn’t reply. I just closed the app. Rory called next. “Victoria, why aren’t you at the office yet?!” “Why would I be?” “To fix the damn servers! You pulled the scripts, this is your mess to clean up!” I actually laughed out loud. “I built those scripts. Why wouldn’t I take them with me when I leave?” He sucked in a sharp breath. “Victoria, please, stop acting like this! The company is bleeding cash right now. Can’t you just be the bigger person?” “No. When the company fired me yesterday, nobody was the bigger person.” I hung up and added him to the block list. Five minutes later, the screen lit up again. This time, it was Marcus, the CEO. “Victoria, the situation has become critical. Can you please come down to the office? We need to talk face-to-face.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444426”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Returning from a business trip, I casually grabbed the smart kettle on the kitchen counter to pour myself a glass of water. A second later, I froze. The water was ice cold. Victoria and I had been married for three years. She was a militant health fanatic, imposing draconian rules on both herself and me. Our smart kettle was programmed to sit at exactly 99.5 degrees, every single minute of every single day. Once, I accidentally bumped the temperature down a single degree. She lectured me for four agonizing hours. Our house contained absolutely nothing but purified water. Sugar was poison. Even an extra drop of olive oil in a pan was a sin. She had severe OCD and a terrifying need for order, demanding that everything in our lives remain under her absolute control. My heart skipped a beat. I pulled open the refrigerator door. Dozens of plastic cups filled with ice packed the top shelf. Below them sat rows of Coca-Cola and Red Bull. At that exact moment, Victoria’s voice echoed in my head. “Bennett, drinking ice water is a slow suicide.” “Those processed garbage drinks will only accelerate your body’s decay.” I stood paralyzed. It seemed our marriage finally had a third person. A person who made her break every single one of her golden rules. I stood in the entryway with my suitcase. The house was dead silent. I could hear my own heartbeat thumping against my ribs. A faint, unfamiliar scent of men’s cologne lingered in the air. Victoria’s obsession with the water temperature bordered on psychotic. She even had an app on her phone to monitor the smart kettle remotely. Once, when I accidentally tapped the minus button and dropped it to 98 degrees, she came home from work and stared at me with pure disappointment. “Bennett, I have told you a thousand times. Only water at exactly 99.5 degrees can maintain your body’s internal homeostasis.” “Every time you break this rule, you are treating your own health like a joke.” Yet right now, the water in the kettle was completely cold. I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself that the kettle was just broken. I let go of my suitcase. My hand moved on its own, pulling the refrigerator door open again. A blast of cold air hit my face, freezing the blood in my veins. The fridge, usually strictly organized with farmers market organics, cage-free eggs, and lean cuts of meat, had been aggressively cleared out. Taking up a massive chunk of space were the ice cups and the sugary, carbonated energy drinks. My head spun. Victoria’s cold reprimands played on a loop in my mind. “Bennett, no more than three grams of sodium a day.” “You must measure the olive oil. Not a single drop over five grams per dish.” “The fat content in this cut of beef exceeds the limit by half a percent. Throw it out.” “All outside food is garbage pumped full of chemicals and preservatives. Do you have a death wish?” So who was going to tell me where all of this junk came from? Who was the man that made the rigidly principled Victoria tolerate all of this? My throat went entirely dry. My heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice, the pain making it impossible to breathe. I slammed the fridge door shut, desperately trying to calm down. I pulled out my phone, ready to call her and demand to know what was going on. Right at that second, the electronic lock on the front door beeped. Victoria was home. “You’re back early?” She looked slightly surprised to see me, but quickly masked it with her usual aloof, clinical expression. “Yeah, the project wrapped up ahead of schedule.” Her eyes scanned the living room as if inspecting a crime scene, finally landing on me. Her perfectly manicured eyebrows twitched in slight annoyance. “Why are the lights off? Don’t you know sitting in the dark degrades your vision?” She slipped off her heels and walked straight into the kitchen, naturally reaching for the kettle to pour a glass of water. When she saw the digital temperature display, her hand visibly jerked. A split second later, she placed the kettle back onto the heating pad as if nothing had happened. My heart sank even further. She saw it. But she didn’t say a word. “Victoria.” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Yes?” she replied, not even turning around as she poured a glass of cold water. “Is the kettle broken?” The air in the kitchen instantly solidified. I could practically see her spine stiffen. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her tone flat. “Probably.” But there was a microscopic tremor of panic in her voice. “The clinic has been busy lately. I haven’t been paying attention.” With that, she took a sip of the cold water and practically fled toward the master bedroom. I stood rooted to the floor, staring at her retreating back, a deep chill crawling up my legs. She was lying. Because just seconds ago, when she walked past me, I had clearly smelled that exact same unfamiliar men’s cologne on her clothes. Over the next few days, Victoria became suspiciously busy. She claimed she had to work overtime every single night, coming home incredibly late and looking utterly exhausted. She spoke to me even less. Most of our interactions were reduced to a simple hello and goodbye. The smart kettle magically returned to its permanent 99.5 degrees. The Coke and the ice cups in the fridge completely vanished without a trace. Everything seemed to revert to normal, almost as if that afternoon had just been a paranoid hallucination. But I knew the truth. Some things, once cracked, can never be put back together. Like trust. Tonight, she texted me again saying there was an emergency surgery at the hospital and she wouldn’t be home for dinner. Driven by a dark, undeniable impulse, I changed my clothes, grabbed my car keys, and left the apartment. I parked across the street from the hospital, rolled down the window, and lit a cigarette. I had quit smoking three years ago. The first drag burned my lungs. Through the curling smoke, I watched the hospital entrance. I waited for hours. I waited until the cigarette burned down to the filter, yet I still hadn’t seen Victoria. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Maybe I really was just being paranoid. I reached for the ignition, ready to drive home, when a familiar figure suddenly walked into my line of sight. She had taken off her white lab coat and was wearing a beige trench coat, walking shoulder to shoulder with a young man. I recognized him. He was the new surgical assistant in her department. His name was Felix. He was boyish, wearing thick black framed glasses, looking every bit the innocent scholar. When he smiled, deep dimples showed on his cheeks. Victoria tilted her head to listen to him, a remarkably soft smile blooming on her face. It was a smile full of genuine, unfiltered affection. A look I had never once received from her. My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. I followed them as they turned into a narrow alley beside the hospital. The alley was a famous local night market, packed shoulder to shoulder with noisy crowds and greasy food trucks. I parked the car and quietly trailed them on foot. The alley was deafening, the air thick with heavy cooking oil and the rich scent of spices. I spotted them immediately. They stopped in front of a food truck selling deep fried skewers. Felix was grinning enthusiastically, pointing at the rows of greasy meat and vegetables on the grill. My feet felt like they were nailed to the pavement. I vividly remembered the year we started dating. I had eagerly brought her to this exact same alley. I had said, “Victoria, let’s try this. It looks amazing.” She had frowned, covering her nose and mouth with a tissue, looking at the grill with absolute disgust. “Bennett, do you have any idea where that meat comes from? Do you know how many times that oil has been reused?” “Every single bite is packed with carcinogens.” “I will never eat garbage like this, and I expect you to never bring me to a place like this ever again.” Her words had been a bucket of ice water, completely extinguishing my excitement. From that day on, I never suggested eating street food again. But right now, she was standing there, watching Felix order a massive pile of glistening, oil soaked BBQ skewers. The vendor handed the food to Felix. He grabbed a giant grilled squid and offered it to Victoria like a prized trophy. “Try this! It’s so good!” The squid was dripping with a thick, heavy sauce. I fully expected Victoria to reject him without a second thought, just like she had rejected me. But under Felix’s expectant gaze, she actually opened her mouth and took a massive bite. “It really is.” She smiled as she swallowed it. A bomb went off in my skull. I felt my entire world violently collapse. Seeing her eat it, Felix smiled so hard his eyes crinkled. He naturally reached out with a napkin and gently wiped a smear of sauce from the corner of her lips. And Victoria didn’t pull away. I remembered what happened just two nights ago. I was cooking a simple stir fry, and my hand slipped, pouring a fraction of an ounce too much olive oil into the pan. She took one bite, spat it into a napkin, and dumped the entire plate of food straight into the trash. She had stared at me with eyes made of ice. “Bennett, how many times do I have to tell you? Fat intake must be strictly monitored.” “Do you just ignore everything I say?” “Look at that plate. Are you actively trying to give me high cholesterol?” I had stammered, apologizing over and over again. Looking back now, it was utterly pathetic. She was perfectly willing to swallow greasy street food for another man. Yet she verbally abused me over a single drop of clean olive oil. It turns out her precious rules and health standards were strictly reserved for the people she didn’t love. I have no memory of how I drove back to the apartment. The image of Victoria smiling as she ate that grilled squid played on a torturous loop in my brain. At eleven o’clock, Victoria finally came home. She pushed the door open and paused when she saw the pitch black living room. “Why are the lights off again?” She flipped the switch. The blinding light made me flinch. She took off her shoes and walked closer. She smelled faintly of charcoal smoke, completely intertwined with that unfamiliar men’s cologne. “You’re still awake?” She sat down on the single armchair, as far away from me as possible. “I was waiting for you.” She avoided my gaze, picking up a glass of water from the table. “I told you I had surgery. You didn’t need to wait.” I let out a bitter, raspy laugh. “Did the surgery go well?” “It was fine.” She gave a vague answer, her eyes shifting nervously. I sat up straight and stared directly into her eyes. “You must be exhausted. I hear the grilled squid in the alley next to the hospital is pretty good. Spicy and rich. Do you want me to bring you some next time?” The second the words left my mouth, Victoria’s face drained of all color. The hand holding her glass trembled violently. “Bennett, what exactly are you implying?” Her eyes sharpened into a defensive glare, practically warning me to back off. “I’m not implying anything.” I leaned back against the couch, feeling as if every ounce of energy had been drained from my bones. “Just thought you might want something heavy for a change. Eating clean and bland all the time gets pretty boring.” “Are you tracking me?” She finally asked the question I had been waiting for. She stood up abruptly. “Why are you acting so passive aggressive? Do we not even have basic trust between us anymore?” Trust? My heart violently seized. From the exact moment she let another man shatter all her golden rules, trust was the first thing in this house to die. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Refusing to look at me again, she practically sprinted to the master bedroom and slammed the door shut. I sat in the dark living room until the sun came up. The next morning, she woke up early as usual to get ready for work. We didn’t say a single word to each other. Just as she was about to walk out the door, I called out to her. “Victoria, next Wednesday is our third anniversary.” Her back stiffened. “I remember.” “I booked a table at the restaurant where we had our first date.” She remained silent for a few seconds before turning around, a perfectly crafted look of apology on her face. “I’m sorry, Bennett. The hospital scheduled a mandatory medical seminar that night. I won’t be able to make it.” “Is that so? What a shame.” I replied with a dead, calm voice, while my heart bled out in my chest. Over the next few days, that assistant named Felix began intruding into my life in the most arrogant ways. One afternoon, I received a local courier package. I opened it to find a massive box of spicy junk food and a handwritten note. “Vicky, you said you loved the snacks I gave you last time, so I bought you a whole box!” Staring at that note felt like taking a baseball bat straight to the jaw. When Victoria got home that night, I tossed the box of junk food and the note onto the table right in front of her. “Did your assistant send this?” She glanced at it, her expression entirely neutral. “Oh, Felix is just a kid. He means well. Don’t overthink it.” I laughed in pure disbelief. “Don’t you despise processed food? But when he sends it, suddenly it’s fine?” “Bennett, can you stop being so incredibly sensitive?” Her eyebrows knitted together, her face radiating absolute impatience. “Felix is young. He’s practically a kid fresh out of med school. I can’t believe you’re actually jealous of him. You’re a grown man, why are you picking fights over a child?” There it was again. She defended him at every turn. Every single fault in our marriage was always blamed on my sensitivity and my paranoia. I looked at her, suddenly realizing I was looking at a complete stranger. It was true. Principles were only weapons used against the people you didn’t love. The day of our anniversary arrived. Just as she promised, she left the apartment early in the morning. I sat alone in the empty, quiet house, looking at the elaborate gifts I had prepared for her, feeling like an absolute clown. As the sun began to set, my phone buzzed. It was a text from a mutual friend, containing a screenshot. It was Felix’s social media post. In the photo, Felix and Victoria were wearing overalls and rubber boots, standing in the middle of a muddy field, smiling radiantly.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444411”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I pinched pennies every month to sponsor a brilliant girl from an impoverished rural mining town, promising to cover every cent of her college tuition and living expenses. During summer break, I let her stay in my guest room. That was when I heard her crying to her livestream audience through the thin walls. “Guys, I seriously can’t take it anymore. My sponsor is a total control freak.” “She forces me to study constantly and hates it when I stream. Isn’t she just trying to cut off my income?” “And the allowance she gives me? It’s literally pennies. What am I supposed to do with that in a big city? I can’t even afford a decent designer bag.” “She claims it is for my own good, but I know she is just jealous because I am young, pretty, and have followers! The second I blow up, I am blocking her on everything.” I looked down at the $200 sundress she was wearing, the one I had just bought for her the week before. A cold smile crept onto my lips. If streaming was so lucrative, she could figure out her own tuition and rent. … “Mia, about my allowance for next month…” Jessica stood timidly in the doorway of my study, wearing that exact sundress. Her fingers twisted the fabric in a display of nervous innocence. She had a small, delicate face and big, watery eyes that naturally drew pity. That vulnerability was exactly why I had decided to fund her education in the first place. I did not even look up. My eyes remained locked on my monitor. “There isn’t one.” “What?” Jessica seemed to think she had misheard, taking a hesitant step forward. “Starting this month, the allowance and the tuition are gone.” I finally raised my eyes, meeting hers with absolute calm. The timid act melted off her face in a second, instantly replaced by shock and rising panic. “Why? Mia, did I do something wrong? Just tell me, I will fix it!” Her eyes turned red on command. She rushed to my desk, her voice trembling with a practiced sob. “You promised you would sponsor me until I got my degree! You can’t just go back on your word!” I closed my document, leaned back in my leather chair, and crossed my arms. “I thought your livestreaming was paying the bills. You can handle your own tuition from now on.” All the color drained from Jessica’s face. Her eyes darted around the room, terrified to meet my gaze. “Mia… you… you know?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Stripped of her confidence, she could not muster a single ounce of fake pity. I said nothing. I just let the silence stretch, watching her squirm. She panicked for a few seconds before a switch seemed to flip in her brain. She forcibly steadied herself. “Mia, this is a huge misunderstanding.” She sniffled, the tears arriving right on cue. “I only stream for a little pocket money so I don’t have to burden you so much. My followers send me gifts because they want to. I never ask for them.” She paused, injecting a hint of subtle grievance into her tone. “And the stuff I said on stream… that was only because you have been so cold to me lately. I was stressed and just venting to my chat. I didn’t mean a word of it, I swear! I am so grateful for everything you do!” “Are you done?” I asked. She froze. She clearly hadn’t expected me to be completely immune to her routine. “Mia…” “If you are done, get out. I have scripts to write.” I delivered the eviction notice without raising my voice, turning back to my screen. Jessica stood rooted to the spot, biting her lip. Her face flushed a mottled red and white. After half a minute of suffocating silence, she stomped her foot, spun around, and bolted from the room. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind her with a violent crack. 2 Three years ago, I connected with Jessica through a non-profit charity initiative. She was just a high school sophomore back then. Her file stated she was from a remote, dead-end town. Her parents had passed away early, leaving her with an elderly grandmother. She had straight A’s but was on the verge of dropping out due to crushing poverty. Attached to the file was a black-and-white photo of a fragile, stubborn-looking girl in a faded, oversized hoodie. My heart broke for her. From that day on, I paid for everything she needed to finish high school. She worked hard and proudly earned an acceptance letter to a prestigious university right here in my city. Knowing she had no family to rely on, I invited her to stay with me for the summer. I lived alone in a spacious three-bedroom apartment, so I had plenty of room. I bought her a new iPhone, a MacBook, and a closet full of clothes. I gave her a thousand dollars a month for living expenses, which was more than enough for a college student. I thought I was paving the way for her future. I thought she would study in peace, land a great job, and rewrite her destiny. I thought I was gaining a sweet, driven younger sister. That was until I came home early from a meeting, walked past her bedroom, and heard the most venomous lies spilling from her mouth. In that moment, I realized the resilient girl I had sponsored was gone. The person sleeping under my roof was a complete stranger. The day after I cut off her funding, Jessica made herself scarce. She locked herself in her room, entirely silent. When dinner time rolled around, Martha, my housekeeper, knocked on her door but got no response. “Miss Mia, do you think Jessica is sick?” Martha asked, wiping her hands on her apron. “She hasn’t come out all day.” “Let her be,” I replied flatly. “She will come out when she gets hungry.” That evening, my nephew Connor dropped by to raid my fridge. He was a college freshman himself and practically lived at my place on weekends. “Aunt Mia, did you change the WiFi password? Hook me up,” he yelled, waving his phone. I tossed him the new password. He connected, scrolled for a minute, and suddenly let out a loud gasp. “Yo, Aunt Mia, is this streamer living in your guest room?” I walked over. The screen showed Jessica’s face, heavily filtered and wearing flawless, expensive makeup. She was dressed in a pristine white slip dress, her hair curled into loose, elegant waves. She stared into the camera, looking utterly devastated. “Guys, I literally don’t know how I am going to survive…” “My sponsor found out I stream and cut off my entire allowance. Now she is threatening to throw me out on the street.” “I am terrified. I am still two grand short for my tuition. If I can’t pay it next week, the university is going to expel me…” Tears rolled perfectly down her cheeks. The background of her stream was the massive mahogany bookshelf in my study. I had never threatened to kick her out, but she certainly knew how to spin a narrative. The chat was moving at lightspeed, her “loyal fans” absolutely furious. “Protect Jessica at all costs!” “What kind of garbage sponsor is that? She is definitely just jealous of our girl’s pure heart!” “Drop her address, let’s dox the witch!” “Don’t cry Jessica, we got your tuition! Dropping a Galaxy right now!” Expensive digital gifts exploded across the screen in a shower of animated gold coins and fireworks. Connor stared at the phone, his jaw practically on the floor. “Holy crap. This is a classic Dark Academia grifter! They use the aesthetic of being a struggling, bookish scholar to scam simps out of their money. I can’t believe there is one living in your house!” “A Dark Academia grifter?” It was the first time I had heard the term. “Yeah,” Connor said, clicking on her profile to educate me. “Look at her grid. It is all ‘Day in the Life of a Pre-Law Student’ or ‘Immersive Thesis Writing’. Every photo is either in a vintage library or your study. She sells this image of a poor, hardworking genius just to bait donations. Look at the brands she is wearing. Does that look like poverty to you?” I scrolled through her feed. She was wearing a silk blouse I bought her, lounging on my velvet sofa, holding an untranslated French novel I knew she couldn’t read. The caption: Investing in your mind is the best luxury. She had taken a moody silhouette shot at my desk using the MacBook I paid for. The caption: The midnight oil will light the path to my dreams. She even used my signature designer perfume bottle as a prop for a flat-lay photo. The caption: A girl should always keep a little romance in her life. The comment section was a sea of absolute worship. “Beauty and brains! Jessica is unmatched!” “This is what a real intellectual goddess looks like.” “Subbed. Finally, an influencer with actual substance.” Every single thing I had provided to help her survive had been weaponized as a prop for her performance. My home was nothing but a beautifully curated movie set for her lies. “Aunt Mia, what are you gonna do?” Connor asked, looking disgusted. “This is vile. Are you just gonna let her keep scamming people?” I took my phone back and tapped the screen a few times with a completely blank expression. “Patience.” Down the hall, Jessica’s stream abruptly froze and went dark. She must have realized the router was off. She burst out of her room, her face twisted in rage. “Mia! Did you shut off the WiFi?!” She dropped the sweet ‘Aunt’ or ‘Sister’ act entirely. I leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping my water, admiring her absolute meltdown. “My house, my internet. I turn it off when I please.” “You!” She pointed a shaking finger at me, her face flushed dark red. “You just can’t stand seeing me succeed! Stop trying to control me! I don’t need your stupid charity money. I am doing amazing without you!” She spun around and stomped back to her room, delivering another violent slam of the door. Connor raised his hand and gave me a silent, enthusiastic high-five. 3 Jessica left the house at the crack of dawn the next day. I figured she had relocated to a cybercafe to keep her hustle going. Sure enough, Connor texted me a Twitch link that night. Jessica had a new setup. Behind her was the neon lighting and muffled shouting of a late-night gaming lounge. She was sobbing hysterically now. “Guys, I got kicked out. I have to sleep at this internet cafe tonight…” She cleverly angled the webcam so it only caught her face and the glowing monitor behind her, creating a perfect illusion of tragic homelessness. The collective heartbreak of her fans translated directly into a tsunami of digital cash. Watching her viewer count and donation tracker skyrocket, the temperature in my eyes dropped to freezing. For the next few days, Jessica left early and came back late. Sometimes she didn’t come back at all. She seemed to genuinely enjoy using the cybercafe as her base of operations. She clearly believed that if she milked enough sympathy, she could make enough cash to cut ties with me forever. That Thursday afternoon, I received a phone call I hadn’t anticipated. It was from the university. A Mr. Harrison, Jessica’s academic advisor. “Is this Ms. Mia? I am Jessica’s advisor at the university. I was hoping to speak with you regarding her current standing,” his voice was polite but strained. “Hello Mr. Harrison. Is something wrong with Jessica?” “Well, yes. Last semester, Jessica failed three of her core classes. We have been trying to contact her, but she isn’t answering calls or emails. Classes started a week ago and she hasn’t even registered. We checked her emergency contacts and yours was the only one listed. Has there been a family emergency?” Failed? Three core classes? That threw me off. She had entered this highly competitive university with top-tier test scores. It seemed her lucrative streaming career was rotting her academic life much faster than I realized. “She is physically fine, just…” I paused, finding the right corporate phrasing. “She has been going through a rebellious phase.” “Rebellious?” Mr. Harrison caught the hesitation instantly. “Ms. Mia, our institution has very strict academic standards. If she continues this trajectory and fails to secure her credits, she will face mandatory academic suspension. Or worse, expulsion.” Expulsion. “I understand, Mr. Harrison. I will have a serious conversation with her.” I offered the polite assurance he needed. “Thank you. Please ensure she reports to campus immediately. We have resources available if she is struggling.” I ended the call and stared out the floor-to-ceiling window at the city skyline. Jessica, you wanted absolute freedom. It looks like it is coming for you sooner than you thought. That evening, Jessica actually came home. She strutted through the front door, practically glowing with arrogance. She carried a massive shopping bag from a high-end luxury boutique. Clearly, the cybercafe tears had paid off beautifully. She paused when she saw me sitting in the living room, then tilted her chin up. “Oh, still awake?” she mocked, her voice dripping with attitude. I ignored the bait. I simply slid a printed piece of paper across the coffee table. “What is this?” She eyed it suspiciously before picking it up. It was a printout of the university’s academic policies. I had used a red marker to highlight a specific paragraph: Failing three or more courses in a single semester will result in Academic Warning. Consecutive failures or accumulating four failed courses will result in immediate Expulsion. The smugness evaporated from Jessica’s face the second she read the red ink. “You went behind my back?!” Her voice spiked into a shrill shriek. “Mia, who do you think you are! You are just a donor! You have no right to meddle in my grades!” She crumpled the paper into a tight ball and hurled it at my face. “Stop trying to scare me with expulsion! You think I care? I make more in a month of streaming than you make writing your boring scripts all year!” She violently shook the designer shopping bag at me, her eyes manic with the thrill of revenge. “See this? I bought this with my own money. Five thousand dollars! What did your pathetic little allowance ever do for me? You are just some old boomer who doesn’t understand the digital age. Degrees are useless now! Traffic is everything!” “I am about to sign a massive contract with an agency. I am going to be a top-tier influencer! When I am at the top, I won’t even look your way if you beg me!” She was panting, her face flushed with adrenaline. The innocent, sweet girl I once knew was completely gone, replaced by something twisted and consumed by greed. I stood up slowly and walked right up to her. “Perfect,” I said softly. “Since you are so wildly successful, you can afford your own place.” “You have three days to pack your things and get out.” 4 Jessica was utterly paralyzed. She probably expected me to yell back, or maybe give her a disappointed lecture. She never expected a cold, immediate eviction. “Wh… what did you say?” “Three days. Get out of my house,” I repeated, my tone devoid of any warmth. “You can’t just kick me out!” she finally screamed, her composure shattering. “You invited me to live here! You can’t just change your mind! You are a fraud!” “I invited you here so you would have a safe place to study. Look at what you have become.” I stared dead into her eyes. “I don’t care! I am not leaving! This is my home too!” She resorted to a toddler’s tantrum, dropping heavily onto the living room rug. “My name is on the mortgage.” I pointed toward the entryway console table where a copy of my deed sat in a folder. “If you aren’t gone, I will have the police remove you for trespassing.” The word “police” hit her like a bucket of ice water. Her screaming stopped instantly. As arrogant as she was, she knew she had zero legal ground. If the cops dragged her out, her neighbors would see, people would film it, and her delicate “innocent scholar” aesthetic would be nuked from orbit. She scrambled off the rug, glaring at me with pure venom. “Fine, Mia. You want to play dirty? I will leave. Just you wait!” She stormed into the guest room and began packing—or rather, violently throwing things into bags. The heavy thuds and muffled cursing echoed down the hallway. I paid her no mind. I simply texted Martha, telling her she could take tomorrow off as I had some personal business to handle. By early the next morning, Jessica was dragging two massive luxury suitcases out the front door. Suitcases I had paid for. Her eyes were puffy and red. She had intentionally rubbed her makeup to look as though she had suffered some unimaginable abuse. She was absolutely prepping for the performance of a lifetime. Sure enough, ten minutes after she left, my phone buzzed. It was Connor. “Aunt Mia, get on the stream! Jessica is literally broadcasting from your apartment courtyard! She is telling everyone you kicked her out onto the street and that she had to buy her own luggage. She is weeping.” I walked to the living room window and pulled the curtain back just an inch. Down in the courtyard, Jessica was sitting on her suitcase, holding her phone on a tripod, crying beautifully into the lens. A few neighbors were walking their dogs, side-eyeing her bizarre behavior. She was smart enough not to dox my exact unit number or name. She just spun a tale about a “ruthless corporate sponsor” who had thrown her to the wolves. “Guys, I am so lost right now… my whole life is in these two bags…” “It is so cold out here. I haven’t eaten…” Her acting was Oscar-worthy. Even from three stories up, I could feel the engineered tragedy radiating from her. Her chat went feral. “This is abuse! What kind of sick woman does this?!” “Jessica, we got you! What city are you in? I will drive right now and pick you up!” A user named “Knight_of_Jessica” suddenly dropped one hundred “Diamond Tiers” in the chat, a donation worth roughly three thousand dollars. “Go book a suite at the Four Seasons, baby girl! Daddy will take care of you!” Seeing the massive donation alert, Jessica’s sobbing magically paused. Her face lit up with a sugary, innocent smile. “Thank you so much, Knight! You are always my savior!” I watched the circus act for another minute, then let the curtain fall shut. Connor was practically vibrating with rage through the phone. “Aunt Mia, you are just going to let her do this? She is defaming you right in your own front yard!” “Let them watch,” I said, my voice steady. “I need you to do something for me.” “Anything. Name it.” “Run a check on social media. Find out if there are any major brands actively looking for an ‘intellectual’ or ‘scholar’ influencer for an upcoming ad campaign.” Connor sounded confused but didn’t hesitate. “I am on it. But Aunt Mia… what exactly is the endgame here?” I looked back toward the window. Down below, Jessica was loading her designer bags into a sleek Uber, a victorious smirk plastered across her face. Jessica, since you love building fake personas so much, I am going to help you build the biggest one yet.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444427”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I was in the middle of punishing my wealthy patron in the marble bathroom when the glowing text floated across my vision again. [Does the villainess really think she’s tamed the beast?] [Once the actual female lead shows up, who would want a secondhand kept bird like her?] I ignored them and glanced back down at the man in the bathtub. His expensive dress shirt was soaked through. His silk tie hung loose around his neck. The tips of his ears were flushed a deep crimson. Yet, his sharp, chiseled face broadcasted a single, undeniable message: utter, unyielding defiance. The spark of dominance that had just ignited inside me was instantly doused by those floating comments. I stood up to leave, but he frowned, his voice dropping into a hoarse, magnetic register. “Why are we stopping?” I looked away. “I just remembered I have a kissing scene to shoot today. It’s not polite to keep people waiting.” Reed let out a dry, irritated laugh. “A kissing scene? With Rowan?” I nodded. His eyes darkened with hidden meaning. “This is your third time co-starring with him. Do you really love being his leading lady that much?” I met Reed’s probing gaze and told the truth. “Yes. We have great chemistry.” A cold, mocking smirk touched his lips. “I hear the youngest son of the wealthy Rowan family is a notorious clean freak. If he knew what you looked like begging on a bed, do you think he’d still want to act with you?” I gripped my designer bag tightly, forcing down the spike of humiliation. “It doesn’t matter if you look down on me. Other people don’t.” After I left the hotel, Reed didn’t chase after me. The next time I saw him was on set. Reed was the director, and right now, he was standing up for a part-time college extra. The extra’s name was Laurel. She had a bright, spirited face that had recently gone viral online. To protect her from a creepy gaffer, Reed forcefully claimed her as his girlfriend. I suddenly found it utterly hilarious. The official title he had vehemently refused to give me had now become a convenient tool to rescue someone else. I stood a short distance away, quietly watching him warn the entire crew. “Anyone who messes with her is messing with me.” In the past, he never involved himself in other people’s business. Even when I ran into trouble, I had to literally get on my knees and beg him to intervene. But with Laurel, Reed was entirely different. The floating comments were going crazy. [Our baby female lead is finally here!] [The lighting guy harassed our girl, and the male lead is furious!] [Everyone loves our baby! The male lead is going to be insanely jealous from now on!] So Laurel was the true female lead of this world. No wonder she triggered Reed’s protective instincts the moment she stepped on set. I suddenly remembered how it used to be. Whenever I was bullied and went to Reed for help, he would simply tilt my chin up. His eyes would burn with a predatory heat, his tone teasing and cruel. “What exactly are you going to offer me in exchange? Hmm?” Only after he had tossed me around until I was too exhausted to speak would he leisurely make a phone call and solve my problems with a few words. As for other male actors pursuing me, he would just wrap his arms around my waist from behind, watching the screen of my phone as I typed out rejection texts. His voice was always indifferent. “You don’t need to reject them so harshly. You have to understand, even a kept bird loses its cage eventually. Nora, you need to leave yourself a way out.” “Whenever you decide you want to get married, we can end this at any time.” I had been by his side for so long, yet I had never once seen him jealous. So when the comments claimed he would be insanely jealous over Laurel, my first instinct was pure disbelief. Rowan arrived on set earlier than I did. He was famous in the industry for his flawless temper. Years ago, when I was just a nobody extra, Rowan had bailed me out of trouble countless times. I was just about to walk over and greet him when the text lit up my vision again. [Does the villainess realize the male lead doesn’t want her, so she’s trying to seduce the second male lead?] [She’s delusional. The second male lead has no obligation to pick up a secondhand sugar baby. He will only ever love the female lead.] [Once he finds out about her filthy past, he’ll be utterly disgusted by her.] My hand, raised halfway in greeting, slowly dropped back to my side. The comments always said that if the plot of this novel hadn’t glitched, a cannon fodder extra like me would have rotted away in a dirty trailer park in the Deep South. I wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to be an extra. The author of this world had effortlessly penned the most shameful backstory for me. Born to reckless teenage parents, I was dumped in a rundown trailer park. My grandmother raised me, but she despised my existence. Growing up, I experienced nothing but empty stomachs and beatings. Once I hit puberty, I didn’t even dare step outside, terrified of the creepy old men lurking around the park. Then one night, I had a dream. I dreamt of myself on a massive billboard, beautiful and glamorous. Because of that dream, I stole the meager cash stashed under the floorboards that very night and bought a one-way bus ticket to Los Angeles. Soon enough, I landed gigs as an extra and made my first paycheck. My face even went viral on social media for a day. Suddenly, opportunities were knocking on my door. At that moment, I genuinely believed I could rewrite my own destiny. Until the next day, a friend I made on set took me to a cheap salon to dye my hair blonde. She said a huge indie film needed a specific role, and the director had asked for me by name. The character required blonde hair. I showed up to the casting room with that fried, cheap blonde hair, only to be met with a brutal slap across the face from the director. “Who gave you permission to dye your hair?! You aren’t famous enough to go changing your look without my approval!” All my hard-earned opportunities vanished because of that single slap. After that, I went to his office every single day to beg for another chance. At first, he just rejected me. But eventually, his mind wandered to darker places. One night, he cornered me in his hotel room. “If you know how to keep a man happy, the opportunities will come flooding back, won’t they?” I fought him off with everything I had. In the end, I grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from the desk and smashed it into his head, knocking him out cold. Just as I stood there, terrified that my acting career had ended before it even began, I saw a man walking into the suite across the hall. It was Reed. During my time on the studio lots, I had heard the whispers about him. I had even hidden in the crowds, secretly observing him. He had never spared me a single glance. Looking at the bleeding man on the floor, I hesitated for a long time. Finally, I stepped out into the hallway and knocked on Reed’s door. When he opened it, the pure contempt in his eyes shattered whatever dignity I had left. “What? Are you here looking for a sugar daddy too?” At first, I wanted to play the pitiful victim like everyone else did. But looking into those deep, calculating eyes, I chose the truth. “Yes.” “Instead of settling for some old, ugly creep, I want someone young and handsome. Someone powerful enough to actually protect me.” Reed was royalty in the industry. His background was untouchable. He was young, brilliant, and every movie he directed shattered box office records. Every actress in Hollywood would kill to be his leading lady. He was the ultimate patron, the only one who could truly shield me. Reed stared at me. After a long, agonizing silence, he actually laughed. He stepped aside and let me in. He lit a cigarette, staring out the window, not even looking at me. He asked only one question. “And what exactly can you offer me in return?” I still don’t know where my confidence came from that night. “I can make you a lot of money.” He finally looked at me, a smile playing on his lips. “But I don’t need money.” As I stood there, completely lost, Reed suddenly spoke again. “Come here. Kiss me.” I had never kissed a man before. When I finally pressed my trembling lips against his, he remained completely unresponsive. “Terrible technique,” he murmured. “Do you need someone to teach you how to kiss, too?” As the night wore on, the atmosphere grew heavy with tension. But the moment his palm slid down my bare back, he suddenly froze. He let out a low chuckle. “Why are you so skinny? Does the crew not feed you?” The catering on set was actually amazing. I was just severely malnourished from years of starvation. He didn’t touch me again that night. He told me to put my clothes back on and took me out to get food. The next day, Reed handed me a forged ID and a fake college transcript. He erased my trailer park history entirely. He even personally drove me to elite acting classes. When I tried to thank him, he cut me off. “By the way, if you have free time, read a book.” His tone dripped with mockery. “After all, having an uneducated piece of trailer trash as my leading lady is a terrible look.” “Nora? We aren’t shooting a crying scene today. Why the tears?” Rowan’s gentle voice pulled me back to reality. Reed hadn’t come over. He was sitting in his director’s chair, patiently walking Laurel through the script. The assistant director followed my gaze. “That girl has raw talent. Reed recognizes it. He really wants to mentor her into the industry.” Yes, Reed always cherished talent. When he looked at Laurel, his eyes overflowed with absolute admiration. He had never looked at me like that. Years ago, when the media ruthlessly mocked me for being an industry plant and the internet tore me apart, Reed didn’t comfort me. He just sat quietly in the corner, reading a script. Only when I was exhausted from crying did he finally speak. “Why are you crying? Do you think they’re wrong?” The way Reed looked at me was always a mix of condescension and clinical curiosity. When it was time to shoot the kissing scene, the assistant director asked if I wanted to use camera tricks or a stunt double. Reed was fiercely possessive; he hated it when I filmed intimate scenes. For years, almost all my on-screen kisses had been faked. But today, I suddenly didn’t want to play by his rules anymore. “No need. I’ll do it myself.” When the cameras rolled, I grabbed Rowan’s collar, pulling him in. Yet my eyes uncontrollably flicked toward Reed. I pressed my lips against Rowan’s, my heart swelling with a suffocating bitterness. Reed didn’t even look up. He didn’t care. He was too busy laughing at something Laurel said, in such a good mood that he ordered premium coffee for the entire crew. I heard him specifically instruct his assistant, “The new girl doesn’t like bitter things. Make sure you add extra syrup to hers.” When a cup of sickly sweet coffee was handed to me, my heart finally died. It seemed my untouchable patron was finally preparing to discard me. I had looked into Laurel’s background. Old money, highly educated, lacking nothing. She only came to the movie sets to play around as a hobby. The floating comments were right. She and Reed were a perfect match. After my scenes with Rowan wrapped, Reed texted me to meet him. Coincidentally, I had something to tell him too. The hotel suite was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp. Tonight, Reed was more aggressive than ever before. As he held me tightly, he whispered against my ear, “I had a nightmare last night. I dreamt you actually had the guts to leave me.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “It was ridiculous. How could you ever bear to walk away from me? From all these resources?” I didn’t argue. When it was over, I asked the same pathetic question I always asked. “Reed, do you love me?” If he actually said yes, I might not have had the strength to leave him. Predictably, he just threw the question back at me. “What do you think?” With Reed, I would never get the answer I desperately wanted. The comments mocked me relentlessly. [The male lead hates stupid people, yet the villainess keeps asking these braindead questions.] [He doesn’t love you. Period. Why keep asking?] They were right. I shouldn’t ask such stupid questions anymore. After his shower, Reed couldn’t sleep. He stood by the balcony, scrolling through his phone, and suddenly laughed out loud. He had a beautiful smile, rivaling any top-tier actor in Hollywood. But he rarely ever smiled when he looked at me. Noticing my gaze, he explained, “The crew just texted me. The new girl caused trouble again. She punched the lighting tech.” “She’s just like you were back then. Throwing punches without thinking about the consequences.” I forced a bitter smile. “Are you protecting her because she reminds you of me?” “I had to beg you for weeks before you were willing to protect me.” The hand holding his cigarette paused. He didn’t look at me. “Really? I don’t remember.” Watching the faint, amused curve of his lips, the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Reed, let’s end this.” His smile vanished, and he finally lowered his head to look at me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444412”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I am the infamous “Mad Heiress.” Once, someone mocked my late mother. I shattered his kneecaps and made him kowtow a thousand times at her grave. Someone kicked my dog. I released a thousand snakes into her house, photographed her wetting herself in fear, and posted the images everywhere. Since then, everyone avoids me. Later, on vacation in B City, my wallet was stolen. I was about to have my guards break the thief’s hands when a man appeared. He pinned the thief down, got my wallet, and tossed it back. “Kid, traveling alone? Pickpockets target out-of-towners. Be careful.” In that moment, my heart fluttered. I learned he was B University’s most popular guy. He liked “good girls”—sweet, obedient, innocent. The next day, I transferred to B University. I hid my true self and approached him. I made him bento boxes, showing the burns on my fingers. I handed him water and towels at basketball, always lowering my gaze shyly. We got together. I kept up the act for three years. My best friend said I seemed brainwashed. For him, I endured anything. Until a video arrived on my phone. The always aloof man was riding a motorcycle in a downpour. A girl with fiery red hair and bold tattoos sat behind him. The caption read: “The one he loved all his youth is back. A good girl like you should step aside now.” Step down? You want me to step down? Do you think I’m a pushover? 1 It was midnight, and River still hadn’t returned. I crushed the walnut I was rolling in my hand and called him. The moment he answered, my voice was choked with tears. “River, it’s thundering outside. I’m so scared. When are you coming back?” If my friends back in A City saw me acting like this, their jaws would drop to the floor. The noisy background on his end disappeared abruptly. His gentle voice came through. “I have some things to handle at the company. I’ll be late. You go to sleep first.” “But I’m too scared to sleep. How about I come to the company to find you…” “No!” he refused sharply, without hesitation. In the three years we’d been together, he had never spoken to me in that tone. A chill ran through my heart. Perhaps realizing his tone was too harsh, he quickly tried to smooth things over. “Willow, there are other colleagues here. It wouldn’t look good if you came. Even though it’s my family’s company, my dad is testing me. I’m almost through the probationary period. Once this is over, I promise I’ll spend more time with you.” Faint, suppressed laughter echoed from his end of the phone. My eyes grew cold. Did he really think I was an idiot? I refused to accept this. Why should I hand over the man I had worked so hard to get, just because his so-called “first love” had returned? For me, Willow, when I want something, I will get it by any means necessary. Let’s see exactly where he was in the middle of the night. My men quickly tracked his location. It was a bar. The private room’s door was slightly ajar. Inside, a group of men and women—River’s friends—were gathered. They were cheering loudly, pushing the girl from the video towards him. “River, aren’t we great brothers? We brought the person you’ve been pining for right to you.” “You two were together in high school. If Sierra hadn’t gone abroad with her parents, you would never have broken up.” “Yeah, what does Willow have to do with anything?” “Everyone at school thinks you like good girls. But only we know you chose her because she is the exact opposite of Sierra! It was the only way you could stop thinking about her!” “Now that the real deal is back, when are you going to dump that boring good girl?” River fell silent. Sierra smiled and spoke up. “River and I are in the past. I think his current girlfriend is quite nice. River likes her a lot, too. I bet he’s already forgotten about me…” “No, don’t talk nonsense,” River retorted anxiously, terrified she might misunderstand. The room fell silent. My heart plummeted straight to the bottom. After a brief pause, the room erupted again. They shoved River and Sierra closer together, chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Right as the atmosphere reached its peak, I pushed the door open and walked in. Facing a room full of shocked, dumbfounded faces, I tilted my head, looking the picture of pure innocence. “What are you guys playing? Can I join in?” “Willow!” River was the first to react, shooting up from the sofa. His hand, which had just been resting on Sierra’s shoulder, suddenly seemed to burn him. “Why are you here… were you following me?” His face turned livid. 2 I shook my head innocently. “No, I was just too scared at home and wanted to find somewhere with more people.” River paused, then said anxiously, “So you came to a bar alone? Do you know how messy this place is? Why didn’t you call me? You…” “River, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Sierra raised an eyebrow, smiling. A flash of embarrassment crossed River’s face. He had no idea how much I had overheard. He gave a brief introduction. From beginning to end, Sierra’s eyes were fixed on me. Suddenly, she patted the sofa beside her, inviting me to sit. Before River could stop her, I sat down. Sierra took a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke directly into my face, her red lips curving upward. “So this is the good little girl River has been spoiling for the past three years. You do look quite obedient.” I snatched the cigarette from her fingers, stubbed it out in the ashtray, and smiled. “No smoking indoors, okay?” How dare she make me inhale secondhand smoke. If it were the old me, I would have ground the cigarette butt into her face. A dark glint flashed in Sierra’s eyes. “I heard you’ve never been to a bar, and you don’t drink or smoke. Are we scaring you?” As she spoke, she handed me a glass of orange juice. Before I could even touch it, she let go. The glass shattered on the floor. The crisp sound of breaking glass silenced the room for a moment. Sierra hissed in pain, grabbing a tissue to press against her foot, which had been cut by a shard of glass. She waved her hand, looking apologetic. “Sorry. If you didn’t want orange juice, you should have said so. I’ll get you something else.” “Willow!” River strode over and yanked me away from Sierra. He used so much force that I frowned in pain. In our three years together, he was always terrified I might get a single scratch. It was no exaggeration to say he treated me like I was made of glass. If someone accidentally bumped into me, he would hold a grudge and retaliate. A wave of bitterness washed over me, and my eyes reddened slightly. But now, he was already crouching in front of Sierra, carefully tending to her cut. His friends leaned in, exaggerating the situation. “Oh my god, the cut is pretty deep. She’s bleeding so much.” “Even if the room is a bit dim, it’s not like you couldn’t catch the glass.” “Who knows if she really didn’t see it or if she did it on purpose.” These people had never liked me. When they first found out River was dating me, some of them had openly and covertly mocked me, saying I wasn’t good enough for him. It was true. In B City, I was just a girl from an ordinary family, while River was a wealthy young master. I played the role of a quiet, obedient girl, which meant I didn’t fit in with their crowd, so naturally, they looked down on me. But I didn’t care about any of that, as long as River loved me. Having stopped Sierra’s bleeding, River walked over to me, his face dark. I pursed my lips and said softly, “River, I didn’t drop the glass on purpose…” 3 River used to believe me. When I first transferred to B University, a girl who hated me hid her necklace in my bag and accused me of stealing it. I had a hundred ways to prove my innocence and destroy her in return. But before I could do anything, River stormed into my classroom and told everyone I wasn’t a thief. Leaning against his broad chest, I suddenly felt that as long as he believed in me, nothing else mattered. Later, through whatever strings he pulled, the girl admitted she framed me and left the university. He had said, “You’re so good. How could you ever do something like that?” I tugged at his sleeve, looking at him with pleading eyes. But the next second, River shook off my hand. “Willow, apologize to Sierra.” My mind went blank for a second. “What?” He looked at me and repeated it. “Apologize to Sierra.” A ball of fire erupted in my chest, and my fists clenched. I almost couldn’t hold back my true nature, but I forced it down. I continued to play the victim, squeezing out a few tears. “I didn’t do it. Why should I apologize?” “Forget it, River,” Sierra interjected. “Maybe the room is too dark, and she really didn’t see it.” River frowned. “You’re an important friend of mine. I can’t just stand by and watch you be wronged.” It felt like a needle had pierced my heart. In the past, if I shed a single tear, River would be so frantic he’d want to offer me the world. Now, he only cared about defending someone else. I sneered inwardly. Wronged? Who was really being wronged here? “Willow, if you don’t apologize, I won’t go on the graduation trip with you.” “Fine, then we won’t go.” River froze, his eyes full of shock. He knew how much I had been looking forward to this trip. I had started planning it a year ago. From domestic spots to international destinations, I had meticulously mapped out every leg of the journey. What to eat, what to play, where to stay—I filled three thick notebooks. I had even joked that not even the apocalypse could stop me from going. He had laughed along, promising he’d go with me no matter what. But for Sierra, his promise vanished in an instant. After saying that, I walked over to Sierra. I picked up a shard of glass from the floor and slashed it hard across my own hand. Blood welled up instantly. It looked far more terrifying than the cut on Sierra’s foot. Gasps filled the room. Sierra was stunned, staring at me like she had seen a ghost. River was horrified, yelling, “What are you doing?!” “River, I told you, I won’t admit to something I didn’t do.” I held up my bleeding hand and smiled. “But since you care about her so much, this should be enough, right?” With that, I turned and left the bar. On the way back, I received a call from my dad. “Sweetheart, how are things in B City? Isn’t it time to think about coming home?” Looking at the glaring cut on my hand, I suddenly felt bored with it all. “I think I’ve had enough playing here.” I agreed with my dad that as soon as my graduation project was finished, I would return to A City. He happily announced he would throw a grand party for me. I knew the old man just wanted an excuse to scout for potential marriage alliances. That night, I moved out of the apartment I shared with River and went back to the dorms. River apparently didn’t expect me to be this angry. He bought my favorite cakes and flowers and had them sent to my classroom repeatedly. I gave them all to my classmates. He sent over a hundred text messages, explaining that he only saw Sierra as a friend and that I was the one he truly loved. I didn’t reply to a single one. On my way back to the dorm, he blocked my path. “Willow, are you still angry?” “I admit I went too far that night. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?” “I bought the tickets. Let’s go on our graduation trip.” 4 He spoke earnestly, even saying he had already packed my bags for me. I had planned this graduation trip for a long time. Whether River was suitable to be my future husband—perhaps this trip would give me the answer. After a moment of internal struggle, I finally nodded. River excitedly pulled me into his car. On the way to the airport, he talked animatedly, seeming like the River from before Sierra returned. I wondered to myself, was I just overthinking things? Was his relationship with Sierra truly just friendship? When we arrived at the airport, he settled me in and ran off to buy me hot coffee. An hour passed, and he still hadn’t returned. The airport announcements started broadcasting our flight information. I called him, but his phone was off. I began to worry that something had happened to him. My men reported that River was in a fight in an alley near the airport. I didn’t have time to wonder why he was there; I immediately rushed over. From a distance, I saw River, his head covered in blood, shielding Sierra behind him. Facing him were five or six young thugs wielding metal pipes. “River! Hand over that bitch behind you, and we’ll spare your life!” “She conned our boss out of his money and his feelings. She’s not getting away with this!” River was already swaying on his feet, but he forced himself to stay standing. “As long as I have a breath left in me, you won’t touch a hair on her head!” My heart ached sharply. But the situation was urgent. I stood where I was and shouted toward them, “I’ve called the police! If you don’t leave now, it’ll be too late!” River looked shocked when he saw me. “Willow! What are you doing here… Run!” One of the thugs rolled his eyes, realizing what was going on, and quickly darted forward, grabbing my shoulder. “This little chick is yours too? Young Master River, aren’t you a bit too greedy?” “How about this? Let’s play a game. Choose one. How about it?” River’s face turned ashen at the thug’s words. I remained expressionless. My bodyguards were lurking in the shadows; these thugs couldn’t hurt me. But I was suddenly very curious. If forced to choose, who would River pick? “River, don’t worry about me! Go save Willow! She’s your girlfriend!” Sierra suddenly shouted from behind him. “They came for me anyway. If they want to kill me or torture me, let them.” Biting her lip hard, Sierra pushed River toward me. River stumbled forward, suddenly snapped out of his daze, and fiercely grabbed Sierra’s hand. “Are you crazy?! How could I just leave you?!” “Then… what about Willow?” Sierra looked toward me, a flash of triumph quickly crossing her eyes. “Willow…” River met my eyes, then suddenly looked away guiltily. My heart sank into the abyss. He didn’t say a word, but I already knew his choice. A bitter smile touched my lips. River, you really… disappoint me time and time again. “I choose Sierra. She’s injured,” he said. He added guiltily, “Willow, wait for me. Once I get Sierra to safety, I’ll come right back to save you!” With that, he hauled Sierra onto his back and ran off into the distance. Watching his figure fade away, the light in my eyes completely died. Did he not consider what would happen to a defenseless girl left alone with a group of thugs? Perhaps he did, he just couldn’t bear to let Sierra face it. 5 “This guy River really has no humanity. If I’m not mistaken, you’re his girlfriend, right?” “Abandoning his current girlfriend for an old flame… River is no good either. Hey, pretty girl, why don’t you submit to me?” “Hehe, let me go first… Ah!” Men in black suits swarmed from all directions, instantly taking down the thugs. I brushed off the spots on my clothes where they had touched me and said coldly, “Cripple their arms and legs.” “Yes, ma’am!” One agonizing scream after another echoed from behind me, accompanied by the roar of an airplane engine overhead. The flight we were supposed to take soared into the sky, gradually disappearing into the clouds. Back at the university, I blocked out all outside information and locked myself in my dorm for several days and nights until I finally completed my graduation project. While booking my flight back to A City, a news headline caught my eye. [Gen Z Jewelry Designer Sierra Reaches the Pinnacle on Her First Exhibition! Multiple Pieces Auctioned for Astronomical Prices!] Sierra? The background check I had run on her indeed showed she had studied jewelry design abroad. But from what I knew, her skills were mediocre at best. Suspecting the news was an exaggeration, I scrolled down. When I saw the pictures of the jewelry, my eyes widened in fury! These were not her designs! The designs that fetched those astronomical prices were clearly based on my mother’s posthumous sketches! How did Sierra get access to my mother’s designs? A sudden realization hit me, and my blood ran cold. I had once shown River my mother’s sketches. Did he secretly take photos of them when I wasn’t looking? I immediately sought out River to confront him. When he saw me, he smiled. “Willow, you finally came to see me. I thought you would never forgive me. Actually, I went back to look for you very quickly that day. I…” Slap! I slapped him hard across the face. “You stole my mother’s design sketches and gave them to Sierra!” River froze, clearly not expecting the normally docile me to strike him. He rubbed his cheek. “Willow, how can you use a word like ‘steal’? Sierra was just drawing inspiration…” “Inspiration? That was blatant plagiarism! Tell her to confess the truth immediately, or don’t blame me for blowing this out of proportion!” River gripped my shoulders, his expression serious. “Sierra’s parents got divorced. The only way she won’t be bullied is if she establishes herself here through her own merits.” “Willow, I’m begging you. Please don’t blow this up, okay? How much money do you want? I’ll buy the designs from you. Will that be enough?” My hands fell limply to my sides. He thought I was giving in and stepped forward to hug me. “Be good. You’re the most understanding. I promise from now on I will only spoil you and love you. Once you marry into the River family, you’ll have whatever you want… Ugh!” He shoved me away forcefully, staring in disbelief at the hairpin stabbed into his shoulder. This hairpin was the first gift he had ever given me. I hadn’t used hair ties since. Now, I was giving it back to him. My long hair cascaded down, hiding the frost on my face, but it couldn’t mask the bone-chilling cold in my voice. I spoke into my phone. “Burn down Sierra’s exhibition. Burn every single piece of jewelry. Don’t leave a single one intact.” River stared in shock at the person I had suddenly become. The icy aura radiating from me made him instinctively step back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444428”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Suspended three hundred feet above the Manhattan pavement, the freezing wind whipped against my face as I scrubbed the high-rise windows. I wiped away a layer of grime, only to freeze. Through the thick glass, I saw him. Finn. My wife Lisa’s adopted brother, the man who had supposedly died three years ago. He was lounging in a luxurious marble bathtub, completely naked, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face as he crossed one leg over the other. “Lisa almost shipped me off to Europe three years ago just to please her dear husband,” Finn chuckled, his voice muffled but entirely legible through the glass. “Good thing I jumped off that roof. It drove her completely insane. I knew she loved me the most. That little suicide test I planned was worth every drop of blood.” My blood ran cold. The oxygen vanished from my lungs. He faked his death. He used a single suicide note to nail me to the cross as a murderer. Lisa, the woman who once loved me to the bone, was so consumed by grief and rage that she personally forced me into this hell. Knowing I had a crippling fear of heights, she made me dangle from skyscrapers day after day, forcing me to endure the exact terror her brother supposedly felt before he fell. The psychological torture had nearly landed me in an asylum. And to him, it was just a lighthearted test? Acting purely on instinct, I fumbled for my phone and dialed Lisa’s number. The line connected. But the words died in my throat. Because the person stepping into the frame, handing a warm towel to the man in the tub, was Lisa. My hands shook violently. The phone slipped from my numb fingers, plummeting into the abyss below. Inside the bathroom, Lisa frowned in confusion, tossing her own phone onto the vanity counter. “Enough,” she snapped. “I don’t know where you get these sick ideas. I’ve lived in agonizing guilt for three years. Even Penn hasn’t had a single day of peace, yet here you are, living like a king.” Finn didn’t look remorseful in the slightest. He climbed out of the tub, water dripping onto the tiles. Lisa averted her eyes, quickly tossing a bath sheet around his waist. Her face was tight with displeasure. “Go home early and apologize to Penn. I can only keep you hidden for another month.” She paused, turning toward the bedroom. “And even though we’re up high, pull the blinds when you bathe.” My heart violently twisted into a bleeding knot. I instinctively shrank back, trying to hide. But at this altitude, any sudden movement sent the suspension harness swinging wildly. A sudden gust of gale-force wind slammed me face-first into the reinforced glass. The world went black. I woke up to the sharp stench of antiseptic. A tearing pain throbbed at my temples. The sheer, lingering panic of the fall made me bolt upright in the hospital bed, gasping for air. “Penn, are you feeling better?” Lisa walked into the room, a designer gift bag in her hand. A fleeting trace of guilt flashed in her elegant eyes. “How could you be so careless up there? If I hadn’t coincidentally seen you, you would have lost your life.” She set the bag down. “Since it has come to this, your punishment is over. From now on, you can stay home and take care of the household.” My breath hitched. Just yesterday, she had looked at me with absolute disgust, calling me a murderer. Today, I was suddenly allowed to be a house husband again? If I hadn’t accidentally seen them through the window, how much longer would I have carried the weight of a killer? I grabbed her wrist. I gripped it so hard my nails nearly broke her skin. “I explained it to you a thousand times! I told you he jumped on his own, but you never gave me a single ounce of trust!” Hatred, raw and suffocating, clawed its way up my throat. The countless times I had broken down dangling in the sky wrapped tightly around my neck like a noose. “You knew exactly what was going on last month! You knew Finn was acting out a sick play, so why didn’t you tell me immediately? Why did you keep sending me out to wash those damn windows!” My voice cracked, tears streaming down my bruised face. “If you had just believed me, even once.” I screamed until my lungs burned. But Lisa just stood there, leaning silently against the hospital wall. When my tears finally ran dry, she pushed the designer gift box toward me and let out a heavy sigh. “That’s enough. It’s all in the past now. He’s young and immature. Don’t hold a grudge against him.” The string in my mind, stretched to its absolute limit for a thousand agonizing days and nights, finally snapped. A simple it’s all in the past from her lips was supposed to erase my three years of hell. It was supposed to bury the fact that my own mother, unable to bear the public witch hunt, had thrown herself off a building. It was supposed to wipe away the agonizing pain of a man who was almost locked in a psychiatric ward. All the fight drained out of me. A loud crash shattered the silence. Finn stood in the doorway, a shattered glass thermos pooling hot water around his expensive sneakers. He rushed to my bedside and dropped to his knees, forcing out crocodile tears. “Penn, please don’t back my sister into a corner. Ignorance isn’t a crime. She was just heartbroken over me. She only did those things to you to appease the media and the public.” He sniffled, looking up at me. “If you want to hit someone, hit me.” A single tear rolled down Finn’s cheek. He suddenly sprang up, grabbed a fruit knife from the bedside table, and pressed it hard against his wrist. A line of crimson blood welled up. Lisa panicked. She lunged forward, desperately pulling Finn into her arms, pressing her hand against his minor cut. She turned her head, looking at me with exhausted exasperation. “Are you happy now? It’s been three years. Let Finn go, and let yourself go too. Even if his suicide was fake, the fact that you bullied him and made him feel worthless was real.” She turned on her heel and walked out. The designer gift bag she had brought slipped from the table and hit the floor. A sharp, metallic clink echoed in the room. My hands trembled with a sickening rhythm. Like a ghost, I reached down and picked it up. A diamond ring, heavy and brilliant. This was the wedding ring she was supposed to put on my finger three years ago. Lisa and I had been the golden couple of our social circle. We matched perfectly in status and love. But just as I was drowning in the joy of our upcoming wedding, Finn, the adopted stray she had sent abroad, suddenly crashed back into our lives. He begged me not to kick him out after we got married. He twisted the truth at every turn, playing the victim. Even with the strong foundation Lisa and I had, cracks began to form. My mother was the first to see through his act. She cornered Lisa and demanded she send Finn away, threatening to call off the wedding if she refused. But exactly on the day Lisa and I were supposed to exchange rings, Finn stood crying on the edge of a high-rise opposite our venue. He screamed into a megaphone, begging me to let him go in death. Then he jumped. Overnight, I went from the most respected groom in the city to a cold-blooded murderer. The dead are always the ultimate victims. For three years, my ring finger remained painfully empty. I became the biggest joke in high society. Looking at the sparkling diamond, I tried to slide it onto my finger. It wouldn’t fit. I shoved it, twisting the metal against my skin until it bruised. But these hands, once elegant and manicured, had grown thick, calloused, and swollen from years of gripping high-tension ropes in the freezing sky. Hot tears splashed onto the back of my hand. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a crumbled sheet of paper diagnosing me with severe clinical depression, and chewed on a bitter pill I kept wrapped inside it. I smiled, tasting the bitterness. Lisa. I don’t want a ring that is three years late. And I don’t want you anymore, either. Lisa threw a lavish welcome back gala for Finn. She used every connection she had to cover up his lies, personally escorting him through the ballroom to give him face. Yet two years ago, when my mother passed away, she couldn’t even be bothered to attend the funeral. She had just looked at me with fake pity and said she hated crowded spaces. In the blink of an eye, I became the city’s favorite punching bag again. They laughed at the Ivy League graduate who had been reduced to a window washer. They laughed that I couldn’t even compete with an orphaned adopted brother. Three days later, Lisa finally came home. Stripped of her usual icy demeanor, she hugged me from behind, burying her chin into my shoulder. She smelled of expensive champagne and happiness. “I’m so glad Finn is alive. Our family is finally whole again.” When I didn’t respond, she stepped in front of me, pressing her forehead gently against mine. “Alright, I know you’re angry. But do it for me. Let it go, okay? Finn is back, but his depression is severe. I have to fly out to London tomorrow for a business trip. Please take good care of him for a few days.” With that, she walked into her study. She glanced back at me, a flicker of confusion crossing her face as I stood frozen in place. But she didn’t say anything. I gripped my trembling hands together and dry-swallowed a handful of prescription pills. The trauma of the heights combined with the relentless mental torture had ruined me. I lived in constant guilt, my subconscious entirely convinced that I really was a murderer. I thought depression wouldn’t literally kill me. But ever since I discovered her lie, my physical symptoms had worsened drastically. Once the pills kicked in, I walked into the bedroom and opened a wooden box containing my mother’s belongings. I picked up her favorite antique comb and sat before the mirror. I gently brushed my hair. A massive clump of hair fell out, settling lifelessly in my palm. Staring at the face in the mirror, a face so much like my mother’s, I finally smiled. A genuine, relieved smile. “Mom. I’ll be there to keep you company very soon.” I took a USB drive and downloaded the cached videos my private investigator had sent me. Lisa. Before I die, I’m going to leave you one hell of a parting gift. The next morning, a group of burly bodyguards dragged me out of bed. They ignored my protests, threw me into a black SUV, and drove me straight to a massive theme park. They tossed me onto the concrete right at Finn’s feet. These men were Lisa’s personal security detail. Back when I was constantly stalked and harassed by the press, I begged her for just one reliable guard. She flatly refused. Now, she had given them all to Finn. “Penn, didn’t my sister ever bring you to an amusement park?” Finn crouched down, his eyes dripping with malice. “Look up. She rushed the construction on this entire place just to give it to me before her trip.” He smirked, patting my pale cheek. “I heard you’re an expert at high-altitude work now. Be a good brother and scrub the rollercoaster tracks clean for me.” My eyes widened in sheer horror. The panic attack was already starting. “You’re psychotic. Do you honestly think Lisa will let you get away with this forever? I am her legal husband. Doing this to me is slapping her in the face!” “I told you three years ago, I never wanted to steal your sister. I never wanted to kick you out. Why wouldn’t you just listen?” He laughed, picking up a handful of gravel and throwing it hard into my face. Sharp rocks cut my cheek. “If it weren’t for you, I would be the one marrying her.” Before I could process his sick confession, his men hoisted me up. They dragged me to the highest peak of the rollercoaster tracks. The howling wind slapped me relentlessly. I tried desperately to breathe, to stay sane. But then, Finn unhooked the safety carabiner from my chest harness. He stood on the maintenance platform, laughing as I clung to the greasy steel rail for dear life, my entire body violently shaking. Through the dizzying haze, I saw a familiar figure down below. Lisa. She was wearing casual clothes, walking up to Finn and playfully punching his chest. “My flight was delayed. You shouldn’t have waited for me. A rollercoaster? It’s too high and dangerous. Let’s go play something else.” My nose stung. In my memories, she was always in sharp business suits. I had never seen her look so relaxed, so soft. Another violent gust of wind hit me. The rail shuddered. Losing all my pride, I screamed for help. Instantly, every pair of eyes on the ground snapped upward. My heart seized. A sudden, humiliating warmth spread down my legs. “Holy crap, there’s a guy up there! He doesn’t even have a safety line!” a tourist yelled. “Why isn’t anyone helping him? Oh my god, he’s so terrified he peed himself!” Lisa looked up in confusion. The moment our eyes met, my face burned with an unnatural heat. The sheer shame almost drowned me. She turned feral. Her face darkened like a thunderstorm, and she backhanded the nearest bodyguard with a vicious crack. “Get him down right now! Do you have a death wish!” In the last second before I lost consciousness, Lisa wrapped her expensive coat around my shivering body, desperately slapping my cheeks. “Penn, don’t sleep. I’m here.” She held me tight against her chest. She raised her hand high to strike Finn, but stopped at the very last inch. She lowered her arm, exhaling a frustrated breath. “I really have spoiled you too much.” It was the first time I had ever seen her lose control because of me. Yet, she couldn’t even bring herself to slap him. A rusty blade twisted into my heart, carving out the last bit of oxygen. At the hospital, I was hooked up to an oxygen machine. “Miss Lisa, his condition is critical. He absolutely cannot endure any more mental stimulation.” The doctor glanced at me. I subtly shook my head, begging him to keep my secret. “His long-term psychological trauma has severely depleted his will to live.” The doctor kept his word. He hid my severe depression from her. Lisa’s face went pale. She struggled to breathe. “I know I handled things poorly. Finn went way too far this time. I promise you, I will punish him.” The same old excuse. The same empty promise. A tear slid down my temple, soaking into the white pillow. I used every last drop of my strength to pull off the oxygen mask and grab her hand. “Let’s get a divorce. Please.” The hospital room fell dead silent. Only the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor remained. Lisa suddenly grabbed the back of my neck, forcefully pressing her lips against mine in a violent, punishing kiss. “Are you trying to back me into a corner too?” she hissed against my lips. “Is this about the three years of punishment, or his little prank?” “Penn! Don’t even dream of leaving me in this lifetime!” She kissed me until I nearly blacked out from lack of oxygen, then stormed out of the room. As the door clicked shut, I heard her leaning heavily against the wall outside, panting. Lisa didn’t know what the hell she wanted anymore. She hated Finn for lying, but couldn’t bring herself to condemn him. She resented herself for torturing me for three years, but her ego wouldn’t let her apologize. Why was everyone forcing her to choose? She was a victim too! On one hand, she had the childhood friend who saved her life. On the other, the first love she was deeply entangled with. Separated by a single wall, I gripped the bedrails and dry heaved violently. My fingers curled into painful spasms as I pulled out my phone. “Speed up the process. Money is no object,” I texted the investigator. That night, a video of Lisa publicly punishing Finn trended all over social media. I took a deep breath and clicked play. Inside a loud VIP club, a heavily intoxicated Finn was crying, screaming that he wanted to marry her. Lisa dragged him in front of the camera. The crowd held their breath. So did I. A moment later, she uncapped a permanent marker and drew a cartoon turtle on Finn’s face. “A small punishment to teach you a lesson. No more extreme pranks,” she scolded lightly. “Your brother-in-law isn’t a young boy anymore. He can’t handle your roughhousing.” My fingers turned completely to ice. I quietly locked my phone. I pulled out the hospital-issued fruit knife and pressed the sharp tip against my chest, slowly dragging it across my skin. Physical pain was the only way left to drown out the screaming in my head. For a long time after that, Finn stayed far away from me. Lisa was buried in corporate work, but she called constantly to check in. Mountains of expensive gifts arrived at the apartment daily. High society praised her. Three years ago, she punished her husband for her brother, proving she was fiercely just. Now, she showered her traumatized husband with love, proving her loyalty. She became the absolute paragon of elite society. But my body was rapidly shutting down. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my mother’s bloodied face, screaming at me, asking why I killed someone. Or I felt the vertigo of falling from the sky, waiting for the fatal impact. My phone buzzed. Lisa texted, asking me to accompany her to a high-end auction to get some fresh air. I wanted to refuse, but the catalog she sent included an emerald necklace my mother used to love. I agreed. The auction hall was packed with the city’s billionaires. The moment I sat down, Finn strolled over with a stunning model on his arm. He offered a boyish smile. “Lisa, the CEO of Vanguard Group is waiting for you in the back lounge to discuss the merger. You go ahead. I’ll stay here and keep Penn company. We have so many misunderstandings. It’s time we cleared the air.” My chest tightened. I grabbed Lisa’s sleeve. She hesitated for a split second, then patted the back of my hand. “Wait for me here.” Watching her walk away, I immediately stood up to leave. But Finn slammed his hands heavily onto my shoulders, forcing me back into the velvet chair. “The show is about to start. Don’t you want to see what the opening item is?” The moment the words left his mouth, a spotlight hit the center stage. There was a split second of absolute silence in the grand hall. Then, an eruption of crude laughter. Women covered their mouths, their faces flushed. Men exchanged lewd glances and smirked. My fists clenched so hard my fingernails bit into my palms. On the stage was a life-sized, milk-white sculpture of a naked woman in an incredibly degrading, intimate pose. And the face carved into the marble was the face of the mother I mourned every single night. I surged forward, ready to kill him, but Finn’s chilling whisper stopped me in my tracks. “Sit down. Sit tight and watch exactly how you murdered your own mother.” “If you hadn’t insisted on marrying Lisa, your mother and I wouldn’t have been pushed to such extremes.” The massive LED screen behind the sculpture flickered to life. It was a security footage recording. A video playing my mother’s final, despairing moments on that rooftop, capturing the exact second she stepped into the void. All because of me. “I remember that woman. Born into old money, incredibly arrogant. But then her son became a murderer. She couldn’t handle the shame and jumped,” a socialite whispered loudly behind me. “If I gave birth to a curse like that, I’d jump too.” “I heard the killer is Miss Lisa’s husband.” I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, turning frantically to find Lisa. And there she was. Standing near the back of the crowd, looking right at me. She gave a microscopic shake of her head. She had promised me weeks ago that she would clear my name. It was all a lie. A stalling tactic. She just didn’t want to make a scene. Just like three years ago. Just like today. I was nothing but a pawn she could sacrifice whenever it suited her image. My phone dinged. The private investigator had just uploaded the final file to the server. I slowly wiped the tears from my eyes. I turned around and sprinted toward the rooftop.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444413”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The annual family meeting was meant to discuss everyone’s contributions to the corporate empire. Dividends were merit-based, but the family trust had officially labeled me the sole “negative asset.” Not only was I denied any annual payout, they were also voting to remove my name from the family register. It made no sense. The subsidiary I ran had just secured our largest overseas distribution channel ever. My division alone contributed eighty percent of the group’s profits. How had I become a liability? My aunt Vivian sneered contemptuously. “We only got those channels because Tiffany ran herself ragged networking.” “You, meanwhile, embezzled corporate funds to wine and dine your little boy toys. And you still talk about contribution?” “Out of respect for our bloodline, we’re only asking you to compensate each household two hundred fifty thousand dollars. Refuse, and don’t blame us for getting ugly.” Instantly, everyone joined in, cornering me and demanding payment. Even my fiancé Oliver looked at me coldly. “Quinn, if not for your cousin stepping in, your reckless spending would have sunk the company. None of us would get a dime. Just pay, and they might let you keep your dignity. If they kick you out, I’ll be dragged down with you.” I looked down at the financial summary on the table. Beside my cousin Tiffany’s name, her “contribution dividend” was listed as ten million dollars. I gave a soft laugh and shook my head. “No. I’m leaving the Montgomery Group entirely.” What these vultures didn’t know was that the company’s technical lifeline and every top-tier client answered to one person alone: me. 1 “You ungrateful little brat!” Aunt Vivian slammed her wine glass down on the table so hard the crystal shattered. A sharp shard flew up, slicing the back of my hand. “Look at your expenses for this quarter alone! Over half a million dollars! Are you entertaining clients, or are you just living it up on our dime?” “The supply chain vendors are all old friends of the family. Tiffany handles all the outward-facing platform work. And you? For every dollar you make, the family has to cover ten dollars of your wasteful spending. A spoiled parasite like you is the biggest negative asset the Montgomery family has ever seen!” “Agreeing to let you run Nova Corp was the biggest mistake of my life!” Hearing this, a dry, humorless smile touched my lips. When Tiffany screwed up the pricing algorithm on our e-commerce platform and got all our best-selling links suspended, I was the one who stayed awake for forty-eight hours straight, trembling from exhaustion, coding the fix. When our suppliers boycotted us, I was the one who stood in the freezing rain outside the client’s headquarters for a week just to win back a single contract. When Nova Corp was on the verge of bankruptcy, a company of hundreds pulling in less than three thousand dollars a month while bleeding a half-million-dollar interest loan, I drained my personal savings to bridge the gap. I turned a dying husk into a highly profitable enterprise in just three months. When they were begging me on their knees to save the business, they certainly were not singing this tune. I quietly wiped the bead of blood from my hand. Before I could even open my mouth, Tiffany blinked her heavily lashed eyes and offered a sickeningly sweet smile. “Honestly, it wasn’t just my hard work. Every time we ran a platform beta test, all the aunts and uncles pitched in to help. It made us so much more efficient. In marketing, time is money. The glory of the Montgomery Group is built on our family working together as one!” The moment those words left her mouth, every relative in the room beamed with pride. “Oh, our Tiffany is so thoughtful! Not like some people, throwing Montgomery money around like water just to make herself look important, never acknowledging anyone else’s hard work!” “Exactly. Some people will never learn. No wonder she tries to steal credit when she has achieved nothing! I really don’t know how her mother raised her.” “You can’t entirely blame her mother. A child’s lack of discipline falls on the father… and well, her dad did die early, didn’t he?” I shot to my feet, my chair screeching against the floor, glaring at them with absolute fury. Vivian immediately pointed a manicured finger at me, her voice shrill. “What do you think you’re doing?! Don’t forget you are surrounded by your elders!” Oliver quickly grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “Quinn, don’t throw a tantrum. Your aunt isn’t actually going to kick you out of the family. Everyone just thinks you need to feel the pinch. Otherwise, you will never learn to stop hemorrhaging money. No matter how much profit Tiffany brings in, it cannot sustain your lavish lifestyle.” “Just lower your head, apologize, and promise you will stop dragging us down. Pay the compensation, and I will personally beg your aunt for leniency. We are family, they won’t back you into a corner.” I froze, staring at him in utter disbelief. My fiancé of five years was actually standing against me, telling me to swallow my pride and apologize to these parasites? In the span of my silence, the insults and accusations rained down on me like hail. Someone even threw a silver fork at my face, screaming at me to get out of the Montgomery house. I mocked myself internally. For two years, I spent countless nights patching security loopholes. I stayed on international calls until dawn, securing overseas channels. I emptied my own bank accounts just so Vivian wouldn’t end up on a federal debtor’s list. And my reward? Being branded a negative asset. Looking at this pack of rabid wolves calling themselves my family, I finally understood that words were useless here. I shook off Oliver’s grip and gave a faint, icy smile. “Keep your leniency. I, Quinn, voluntarily withdraw from the Montgomery family.” The sound of another glass shattering against the wall mixed with Vivian’s furious screech. “You arrogant bitch! If you walk out that door, you are never stepping foot in the Montgomery Group again!” I did not say a word. I turned on my heel and walked out the heavy oak doors without looking back. If the Montgomerys were too blind to see my sacrifices, too stupid to realize that every single client and resource was loyal to me alone… then so be it. I would take my hundreds of millions in profit and build my own empire. When I finally got home, the food on the dining table had long gone cold. My mother was frantically tearing through drawers, her face pale with panic. “Mom, what are you looking for?” I asked, exhaustion thick in my voice. Tears welled in her eyes as she shoved a heavy metal lockbox into my arms. “Sweetheart, this is every penny I have saved. If I sell the two storefronts downtown, we can scrape together maybe two hundred thousand. You take this and pay them a fraction of what they want. We can slowly pay off the rest of the compensation!” “I will go beg your aunt Vivian tomorrow! If the family kicks you out, we will have nothing left. And your wedding… Oliver will call off the wedding!” A loud ringing filled my ears as a surge of pure, unadulterated rage boiled over in my veins. Ever since my father passed away from illness, my mother had lost her anchor. She lived in constant fear. Vivian had used that against her, manipulating my mother with just a few honeyed words. Vivian had convinced my mother that I was a sickly, useless girl with no real prospects, and that the Montgomery family was doing us an immense favor by taking me in. I had walked away from an executive CEO position at a Fortune 500 tech firm just to take over the dying mess that was Nova Corp, solely to give my mother peace of mind. And now, Vivian was using the exact same psychological warfare to torture her again. I did not even need to ask what Vivian had said on the phone. She had inverted the truth, erased my achievements, and painted me as a promiscuous, reckless spender driving the company into the ground. Thinking about the pitifully low salary I drew, and the absolute bare-minimum health insurance the family trust provided for my mother, my blood turned to liquid fire. I grasped my mother’s trembling hands, my voice deadly calm. “Mom. From this day forward, I am never going back to the Montgomerys. But I promise you, I will make sure you live a hundred times better than any of them.” The next morning, I returned to the Nova Corp skyscraper to clear out my office. The moment I stepped into the lobby, a cloud of concrete dust choked my lungs, sending me into a coughing fit. Smash. A brick, knocked loose by a renovation crew, plummeted from the scaffolding and narrowly missed my shoulder, shattering by my feet. “Watch where you’re walking! Are you blind?” a worker yelled. “What is going on here?” I snapped instinctively. “Who authorized heavy construction in the main lobby?” As the words left my mouth, Tiffany strutted out of the executive elevator, flanked by a massive entourage of employees. The moment they saw me, the sycophantic smiles on their faces vanished. They shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at me. Tiffany looked me up and down, a mocking lilt to her voice. “I was wondering who was causing a scene. Turns out it’s just my former cousin.” “Now that the platform revenue has crossed twenty million under my leadership, the company is entering a new era. It is time for a complete facelift!” I understood immediately. Tiffany was putting on a theatrical display. She wanted every employee to know that the crown had passed to her. Those very same employees, people who had fought in the trenches beside me, caught her drift perfectly. They turned their gazes on me, eyes dripping with disdain. Jessica, the Director of Marketing, stood with her hands on her hips right next to Tiffany. “Ms. Montgomery, you have incredible taste! This new aesthetic is going to boost our morale tenfold! Not like the old days, when certain people were too cheap to invest in the office, but threw tens of thousands at luxury restaurants, yacht rentals, and sketchy phone bills!” “Exactly! Let’s be honest, we all stayed because of Ms. Montgomery’s vision. If we had to keep following a certain someone, we’d be ‘negative assets’ for the rest of our lives! Hahaha!” The HR Director tossed a plastic visitor badge at my chest. “Honestly, Ms. Montgomery is just being merciful. She said you could stay on as a junior secretary out of pity. If it were up to anyone else, security would have tossed you into the street by now!” Their laughter and jeers felt like jagged knives sliding between my ribs. Jessica was a distant relative on my mother’s side. When I took over Nova Corp, she was working at a real estate office, getting harassed by clients daily. Her deadbeat husband had racked up massive gambling debts and forced her to pay them off. When she couldn’t, he broke her nose and put her in the hospital. She was so desperate for cash she got into a physical brawl with a rival agent, ending up with her face clawed bloody. The rival’s wealthy backer pulled strings and had Jessica thrown in jail. I was the one who bailed her out. I gave her a second chance at Nova. I intentionally funneled massive corporate accounts under her name so she could clear her debts in one lump sum. I hired the lawyers that helped her win her divorce and get a restraining order. Back then, she had cried until her eyes were swollen, swearing on her life that she would follow me to the gates of hell. And now? Jessica was acting as Tiffany’s loyal lapdog, leading the charge to push me off a cliff. I gave her warmth when she was freezing, and she paid me back by throwing stones while I was down. I forced myself to remain expressionless. Turning a deaf ear to their taunts, I walked into my office, only to find it completely stripped. In the corner, a black trash bag sat with its mouth splayed open. Inside were the personal items I kept in my office suite. My tailored blazers, my toothbrush, even my passport, all covered in construction dust. Just as I bent down to retrieve them, a heavy leather boot stepped deliberately onto the bag. I looked up and met Oliver’s eyes. Compared to my exhausted state, he looked incredibly smug and vibrant. “Quinn, stop throwing these little tantrums. Just lower your head, say you were wrong, and you can go back to your comfortable little life. If you just follow Tiffany’s lead, I am sure you won’t be a negative asset anymore.” “The company will keep spinning without you. But aside from the Montgomery family, who else is going to tolerate your uselessness?” He crushed my dignity with the casual weight of his boot. In the past, my heart would have shattered. But now, the waters of my mind were dead calm. Because the moment they labeled me a negative asset, I finally saw clearly. Oliver, just like the Montgomerys, had never seen me as a human being. I stood up straight, a razor-sharp smirk forming on my lips. “If you want to stay and be a parasite for the Montgomerys, that is your choice. From this moment on, we are done. I don’t need a pathetic excuse for a man like you.” Oliver’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching. “Quinn! I am trying to save you! I looked the other way when you were out partying and flirting with male models on corporate trips. Now you are being swept out like trash, and I am begging them to show you mercy. How dare you speak to me like that?” I did not want to waste another breath on him. I turned toward the door, but Tiffany stepped into my path, leaning her entire body into Oliver’s chest. The sight of them pressing against each other made my stomach churn. “If you want to throw away your only lifeline, fine! You won’t even listen to Oliver! Who would want a piece of garbage like you anyway? If my aunt hadn’t insisted on marrying your loser father, you wouldn’t even exist! You deserve to be a negative asset! You will rot at the bottom forever!” A volcanic heat surged through my veins. I stared dead into Tiffany and Oliver’s eyes, my gaze freezing cold. Tiffany threw her head back and laughed, calling me a stray dog that not even a homeless man would touch. It was a pity they couldn’t read the lethal intent in my eyes. And it was a pity they had no idea what kind of hell was about to rain down on them. Leaving the Nova Corp skyscraper, I stepped out into a sudden, torrential downpour without a single ounce of regret. Though the rain soaked me to the bone, it felt like it was washing away years of toxic grime. I felt incredibly light. I was shedding the dead weight. It was time to start over. By the afternoon, the rain cleared. I went to the registry and expedited the paperwork for a new corporate entity. The news of my departure from Nova Corp sent shockwaves through our industry network within hours. Headhunters and rival marketing firms immediately started digging. My phone buzzed relentlessly with over a hundred connection requests on social media. Before accepting a single one, I logged into Nova Corp’s encrypted financial database. I initiated a full backup of every revenue stream, expense report, and ledger I had managed since taking over. Every single transaction was documented with crystal clarity. Anyone looking at the hard data would instantly see that the “extravagant spending” they accused me of was barely a drop in the ocean compared to the hundreds of millions I brought in. After securely transferring the encrypted files to my legal team, I opened the master control panel of Nova’s e-commerce platform. With a single click, I unbound my administrator credentials, severing my digital footprint completely. Before I could even log out of the communication software, I noticed I had already been kicked from every single Nova Corp work chat. I let out a dark chuckle. At least it saved me the trouble of leaving them one by one. I accepted the dozens of friend requests. The messages were nearly identical. Every major firm wanted to poach me as their Chief Marketing Officer or General Manager. The lowest base salary offered was a hundred times what the Montgomery family paid me. But I declined them all. Instead, I called Arthur, a former university classmate who controlled a massive network of supply chain resources. In the past, out of loyalty to the Montgomerys and to avoid Oliver’s insecure jealousy, I had rejected Arthur’s partnership offers time and time again. When I told him I had severed ties with Nova Corp, the line went dead silent for two full minutes. Then, his voice crackled through the speaker, thick with poorly concealed triumph. “Fucking finally.” Within hours, we had drafted the framework of our new empire. We would fast-track the development of a proprietary platform. I would send formal notices to every client in my Rolodex, officially announcing my departure from Nova Corp. Whether they chose to stay with Montgomery or follow me was entirely up to them. Furthermore, exactly one week after our platform went live, we would host an exclusive, invite-only gala for our top distributors. I also coordinated a strategy with Arthur. Any legacy client from Nova Corp who migrated to our new platform would retain their top-tier status, plus an additional, highly lucrative “welcome back” incentive package. Arthur agreed without hesitation. We divided the workload and dove headfirst into the grind. Meanwhile, by that evening, two trending hashtags had skyrocketed to the top of the financial and tech forums. #NovaCorpLeadStepsDown #MassExodusOnNovaPlatform The internet was flooded with wild speculation about why I left. People were tagging my official accounts, demanding a statement. I stayed silent. But soon enough, a highly upvoted comment surfaced and pinned itself to the top of the discussion. @ran_truth: The former director, Quinn, embezzled Montgomery Group funds to live a lavish lifestyle and hire male escorts. When the board found out, she refused to admit it. They just asked her to pay back a fraction of what she stole, but she threw a massive tantrum at a family banquet and quit. Her cousin, who is actually competent, had to step in to save the sinking ship. The very next day, Quinn broke into the office and physically assaulted her cousin and her own fiancé! Attached below was a high-definition, closely cropped video of the lobby confrontation. Within minutes, thousands of comments flooded in. “Corporate parasite,” “shameless gold digger,” “she’s probably the one sabotaging the user database out of spite!” The vitriol was deafening. I massaged my temples, letting out a heavy sigh. I knew exactly who owned that burner account. It was Oliver. What the idiot didn’t know was that since college, I had used a dummy account to track his digital footprint. I had archived every single photo and post he had ever uploaded before he scrubbed them. I took a fresh screenshot. But this time, it wasn’t a picture of him posing at a bar. It was absolute, concrete proof that he had manufactured evidence to frame me for another woman. Just as the internet mob reached a fever pitch, Tiffany struck while the iron was hot, releasing a formal public statement. She lamented the “unfortunate family tragedy” and tearfully urged old platform users not to be “brainwashed” by my lies. Riding the wave of viral traffic, she announced that Nova Corp would be hosting a massive press conference and contract renewal ceremony the following week. “On the day of the press conference, we will be joined by our newest overseas channel titan, Mr. Harrison! We cordially invite all our esteemed clients and distributors to attend!” She looked as proud as if she were accepting a Nobel Prize in Economics, her face practically glowing with unearned arrogance. I closed out of her trending video and accepted a direct video call request from Mr. Harrison himself. I wondered if Tiffany would still be smiling on the day of her little gala. For an entire week, Nova Corp poured millions into promoting their press conference. They invited every distant branch of the Montgomery family, local politicians, major corporate clients, and over a hundred media outlets. A week later, the doors opened at the Montgomery Group’s grand banquet hall. Dozens of servers in crisp uniforms lined the entrance. A plush red carpet stretched for hundreds of yards, leading straight to the main street. The entire hall was illuminated by dazzling laser lights. The distant relatives Tiffany had invited were practically salivating, chatting loudly about how much their dividends would multiply this year. Journalists set up a barricade of cameras and microphones. The event was even being broadcast live on the massive digital billboard in the center of the financial district. In the center of the hall, Tiffany stood wearing a custom velvet gown dripping in diamonds. Oliver, my ex-fiancé, was looking at her with sickening devotion, letting her lean heavily against his side. They looked like the ultimate power couple, passionately detailing their utopian business roadmap from the podium. The clock ticked. The ceremonial bell-ringing, originally scheduled for 10:58 AM, was delayed. The distributors hadn’t shown up. Twenty minutes passed. The only people walking around the floor were hired event staff. Several elderly Montgomery board members were shifting uncomfortably in their seats, their backs aching from waiting. A couple of them had flat-out fallen asleep on the VIP sofas. A camera crane swept past, broadcasting a shot of an old uncle drooling directly onto the city’s central billboard. 11:30 AM. The media reporters were getting restless. The murmurs grew louder and more agitated. A veteran journalist finally lost his patience. “Ms. Montgomery, it’s 11:30. We are half an hour behind schedule! If you don’t start now, we have other breaking news to cover!” “We’ve been waiting all morning. Our time is valuable too!” “I’m on a deadline. Pack it up, guys, we’re leaving!” Seeing the press corps threatening a walkout, Tiffany panicked. She furiously signaled her assistants and staff to call the distributors again, desperately promising that anyone who showed up would get a year of platform fees waived for free! She then gave the MC a frantic nod to commence. The MC’s face paled, but he forced a bright smile and stepped up to the microphone, shouting into a room devoid of actual clients. “Distinguished guests! Nova Corp partners! Family! Our ceremony officially begins!” “Please welcome our visionary leader, Ms. Tiffany Montgomery, to the stage!” Tiffany forced a radiant smile, waving enthusiastically at a sea of empty chairs. Just as she reached the microphone, her lead assistant sprinted onto the stage, completely panicked. Because the mic was still live, her frantic, breathless voice echoed through the massive speakers for everyone to hear. “Ms. Montgomery! The phones at the main office are exploding! The distributors… they said they are never renewing their contracts with Nova Corp!” “What?!” Feedback screeched from the sound system. Tiffany practically leaped off the stage, grabbing the assistant by the collar. “Didn’t I tell you to call them and offer a whole year for free?! Why isn’t anyone here?!” The assistant stammered, terrified. “The distributors are saying the backend system is completely corrupted! They submitted bug reports days ago and no one fixed them. Customers are paying for orders, but the system isn’t processing the shipments! They aren’t just canceling their contracts… they are filing class-action lawsuits for lost revenue!” “What?! Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?!” The assistant shrank back. “I tried to tell you three days ago, but you were busy shopping for a new sports car with Mr. Oliver, so you told me to…” Tiffany’s face flushed a violent, ugly shade of red. “What are you standing here for?! Give me my damn phone!” The assistant shakily handed over the device. The journalists below, seeing Tiffany’s complete meltdown, immediately sensed blood in the water. The whispers turned into loud demands. “What’s going on here? Are you playing us for fools?” “Ms. Montgomery! We didn’t come here to watch you play pretend CEO!” Being publicly humiliated, Tiffany snapped. She pointed a shaking finger at a female reporter and shrieked, “Who the hell do you think you are?! You should be grateful I even invited you! How dare you bark at me in my own building?!” The atmosphere instantly turned hostile. The press corps closed ranks, furiously condemning Tiffany’s arrogance. Cameras flashed rapidly, capturing every vein popping in her red, screaming face. “Let’s go! We have our headline! This company is a complete joke!” The hall devolved into total chaos. The Montgomery relatives couldn’t sit still anymore. “Tiffany, why is everyone leaving? The event hasn’t even started!” “Yeah, we are relying on this for our year-end bonuses!” Tiffany, who had just been chewed out by her mother Vivian earlier that morning, was entirely out of patience. “Shut up! You greedy old fossils! Go ask your own useless kids for bonuses! Stop bothering me!” The relatives froze, staring at her in shock, before slamming their hands on the tables in outrage. “Excuse me?! That is not what you promised us last week! You said you had massive international clients coming today and our dividends would triple!” In a blind rage, Tiffany kicked over a towering champagne pyramid. Glass shattered everywhere. “Get out! All of you! You do absolutely nothing and expect to get paid?! Security, throw them all out!” In her hysterical breakdown, Tiffany had completely forgotten one crucial detail. At that very moment, the live feed was still broadcasting her psychotic meltdown to the massive digital screen in the center of the city.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444429”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 When I was finally found after being missing for three years, I was nineteen, permanently blind, and heavily pregnant. My parents hugged me, sobbing uncontrollably. “My sweet girl, you’ve suffered so much…” I leaned into them and asked softly, “Where is Sienna?” My mother’s voice hitched as she hurriedly explained. “She didn’t mean to lose you that day. I already grounded her and cut off her allowance for a month. Don’t be mad at her, okay?” But I remembered when I was little. I had merely tripped over another kid’s foot, and my mother marched over to the neighbor’s house with a kitchen knife, throwing a massive fit. Even when people spit at her and called her a crazy shrew, she didn’t care. When I had a high fever that wouldn’t break, my dad was so panicked he went to the temple to pray, eating a strict vegetarian diet for ten days just to beg the gods for my health. Time and time again, they firmly shielded me behind their backs. And then, my adopted sister Sienna came into the picture. They sent me to the countryside to live with relatives. I only got to see them once a year… The wind carried my parents’ agonizing screams as I stood on the roof of the hospital. I smiled and said, “Hazel is going to turn into a little star and fly up into the sky.” That way, I wouldn’t be abandoned anymore, right? … When the arms wrapped around me, I thought it was the monster who tortured me every night. I screamed in sheer terror, “Hazel is being good! Hazel isn’t crying!” The person quickly let go, their voice trembling with deep remorse. “My daughter… I’ve looked for you for three years. I finally found you!” “Do you not recognize me? It’s Daddy!” Daddy? The word hit my brain like a spike of lightning. Countless memories flashed before my broken eyes. The clearest one was of a man and a woman pulling me out of a run down wooden shack, taking me to a beautiful, massive house, and telling me this was my home now. A girl who looked like an angel ran out of the house. She threw her arms around them. “Dad! Mom! You’re back!” Then the girl looked at me and handed me a piece of candy. “Hi, big sister. Don’t be scared. My mom and dad are your mom and dad now.” I remembered! Even though my body was in agonizing pain, even though the monster had hit me with a hammer so many times, I couldn’t help the surge of childish joy. “Did Daddy come to take Hazel home?” In the absolute darkness, I reached my hand out, desperately hoping he would hold it the way he held Sienna’s. I grasped nothing but empty air. “Your eyes…” my dad’s voice broke abruptly. Panic set in. “Hazel went blind… Will Daddy hate Hazel now?” “How could I? Daddy loves Hazel the most.” He sounded like he was crying. When he picked me up, he was so careful, terrified to use any pressure. But he was lying! In the memory that just flashed through my mind, I saw him only being sweet to the angel sister. He would pick her up and spin her around, making her giggle with absolute delight. “Hazel, your mom and I had to work hard in the city, so we had to send you back to our hometown. We only had Sienna with us.” “She’s just my coworker’s daughter, but her parents died in an accident. She’s very pitiful. You have to treat her like your real sister. You can’t bully her, do you understand?” I had nodded obediently. In my diary, I had secretly written: As long as I can stay with Mom and Dad, those kids can’t call me a bastard with no parents anymore. It was strange… When the monster beat and kicked me, I didn’t cry. But the moment I remembered that thick diary, my chaotic brain felt like it had been shot through with an arrow. It exploded. A mess of noisy voices flooded my ears. “Hazel! Why are you always jealous of your sister? She’s smarter and more likable than you, isn’t it obvious?” “Hazel, can’t you learn from your sister? Is it that hard to smile and act sweet for your parents? We raised you for nothing!” My dad carefully touched my forehead, asking what was wrong. I snapped back to reality in a panic. I asked, my voice trembling with uncertainty, “…Does Hazel still have a home?” On the very last page of that diary, I had written: Mom and Dad are Sienna’s Mom and Dad. That beautiful big house is Sienna’s house. None of it is mine. I curled my body into a tight ball. My broken eyes and the tearing pain in my lower body made me feel so ashamed. Covering my face, I finally broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. “Bad men hurt Hazel… Everything hurts so much!” “I waited so long, but nobody came to save me.” “You think I’m stupid… Nobody wants me!” 2 My dad carried me out of the place I had been trapped in for three years. The stench of rot faded, but the fresh air terrified me. I held my breath until my face turned red. My dad gently stroked the skin around my ruined eyes, his voice thick with pain. “Your mom and I never abandoned you. You were locked away by bad men, and we couldn’t find you.” “Don’t worry, Hazel. The monsters who abducted and abused you have been caught by the police. They will pay for what they did.” His voice shook as he promised they would fix my eyes. I stared blankly into the pitch black air. I wanted to tell him that Hazel was used to it now. “Hazel isn’t afraid of the dark anymore,” I comforted him, testing the waters carefully. “Will Mom want to send me away again?” The air froze. My dad didn’t answer. Suddenly, a frantic cry echoed down the hallway. “Hazel!” A familiar, comforting perfume hit my nose. I greedily breathed it in. The hands that touched my face were shaking violently. My mother’s voice was drenched in tears. “My sweet girl… I missed you so much.” “You suffered so much out there… I’m so sorry. Mommy is so sorry…” I opened my mouth to speak, but a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I dry heaved, terrifying them. “Is Hazel blaming me?” my mom asked, her voice turning frantic and anxious. Right then, the doctor walked over with my medical chart. His tone was heavy and complex. “The patient was subjected to prolonged captivity and physical abuse. She’s suffering from severe PTSD. Please try to avoid triggering her.” “As for her physical condition… multiple bone fractures, internal bleeding, and bilateral retinal detachment. She needs surgery immediately if she has any hope of seeing again.” The doctor paused. “…Also, she is pregnant. About four months along.” The hospital room went dead silent. Crash! Something was hurled violently to the floor. My dad roared like a wounded lion. “I’m going to kill that animal!” My mom was sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe. She just kept apologizing to me. “You were only sixteen when you disappeared… What did you go through these past three years…” I slowly reached down and touched my slightly swollen stomach. So I was pregnant. There was a baby in here who didn’t even know who its father was. Even more unlucky than Hazel. While waiting for my surgery, my parents never left my side for a second. By some unspoken agreement, they never mentioned their other daughter. Sienna. I greedily soaked up their rare, focused attention, but I couldn’t help comparing it. “Why didn’t Sienna come?” The room fell silent for a long moment. My dad finally asked, “Hazel, do you hate your sister?” My mom hesitated, then took my hand, her tone earnest and heavy. “After you went missing, Sienna felt incredibly guilty. She fell into a deep depression for a long time. Thank god she eventually snapped out of it. She got into the best university in the state and even started dating a police officer, just so it would be easier to ask for news about you.” “So you see, Hazel, it wasn’t on purpose when she lost you three years ago.” “I already punished her. I cut off her allowance for a whole month and made her reflect on her actions.” My entire body began to tremble. I gripped the bedsheets. Her voice drifted softly over me. “I read your diary. The whole thing was just you blaming us for favoring your sister.” “It’s our fault, Hazel. Please don’t hold a grudge against your sister, okay? She’s innocent.” My dad walked over and stroked my hair. “You were foolish enough to follow those bad men. When it comes down to it, you carry more of the blame for this than Sienna does.” He sighed deeply. “Forget it. Let’s not talk about it. The most important thing is that Hazel came home safely.” Beneath the heavy blankets, my hands curled into tight, trembling fists. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell them what really happened. That day, at the mouth of the alley, it was Sienna who shoved my mom’s bank card into the bad man’s hand. She had looked right at me and said, “Hazel, Mom and Dad belong to me forever!” But my chest hurt so much it felt like it was being crushed. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t understand why I felt so utterly shattered. My ears were ringing, drowning out whatever else they were saying… The surgery was scheduled quickly. Right before they wheeled me in, my parents tried to encourage me. “Hazel, you are stronger than anyone. You’ll get through this.” Yeah. I am strong. Even when so many people were on top of me, I didn’t die. The smell of disinfectant grew heavy. The anesthesia began to pull me under. In my blurry, drifting consciousness, I remembered a lot of things. 3 When I was little, I had a terrible fever. Everyone said my brain had melted from the heat, making me stupid. That was why my parents sent me to the countryside. But I knew the truth. I wasn’t stupid! I actually had an incredible memory! Later, when they finally brought me back to the city, I was terrified they would send me away again. I studied relentlessly, sleeping only four hours a night. I finally ranked first in my entire grade. I practically sprinted home with my report card. My parents were thrilled. They cooked a massive feast to celebrate. But nobody noticed that I didn’t eat a single bite. Every single dish was loaded with chili peppers, because that was Sienna’s favorite. If I ate spicy food, I broke out in painful hives. I watched my mom laugh and kiss Sienna’s forehead, praising her soft, delicate skin. “Just like a peeled egg,” she said. I secretly touched my own face. It was bumpy and covered in terrible acne. I started desperately trying to fix my skin, smearing endless creams and treatments on my face. Sometimes the skin would blister and itch so badly it drove me insane. After a while, it actually worked. My skin cleared up, and I even had boys at school trying to talk to me. But my mom never noticed the change. Not until the day I was cornered by some thugs in an alley. I managed to run home, crying, my clothes torn and messy. Before I could even explain what happened, my mom laid into me, her voice dripping with disgust. “Hazel, did your teachers teach you no shame?!” She looked at me like I was exhausting to be around. “We are in the city, not some dirty farm village. You’re young, stop acting so cheap! Are you trying to ruin your sister’s morals?” But Mom. All Hazel wanted was for you to kiss my forehead, too. Just like you did when I was little. Back then, even if I just had a bad dream, my mom would be so worried she couldn’t sleep all night. My dad would sit by my bed, reading me stories until the sun came up. I racked my brain, but I couldn’t figure out why everything had changed. Maybe I really was just stupid. Maybe I just wasn’t lovable. Once I accepted that, I got sick. Every night, I wanted to die. My hair fell out in clumps. The smell of meat made me vomit. When the high school entrance exam results came out, my grades had plummeted. From ranking first, I dropped so low I could only get into a vocational school. My parents looked at me with a mix of resignation and pity. They comforted me, saying, “You were never very smart anyway. We didn’t expect you to be a scholar.” Then, they doubled down on spoiling Sienna. Every time we ate, Sienna would whine, “Mom, Dad, you’re so biased toward my sister! You keep giving me so much food, are you trying to turn me into a pig?!” I went to vocational school, surrounded by people who whispered and mocked me. Meanwhile, my parents spent a fortune to get Sienna into the best prep school in the city, hiring a private tutor that cost thousands a month. “The daughters of the Fang family are just as good as anyone else. We’re definitely going to have a college graduate in the house!” they would boast. On my birthday, they told me they had to work overtime and didn’t have time to buy me a present. But on Sienna’s birthday, they flew back overnight from a business trip hundreds of miles away, just to give her a gorgeous, expensive princess dress. “Happy fourteenth birthday to our Princess Sienna! You said you wanted to go to the beach, right? We’ll take you for winter break!” The moment she blew out her candles, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I practically ran back to my bedroom and hid. The door was soundproofed, but it couldn’t block out the sound of my parents and my sister laughing, so perfectly happy together. Curled up under my blankets, I dug my fingernails into the messy scars on my wrists. The old ones hadn’t even healed before I tore them open again, making them bleed. Just like my sickness. It was never going to get better. … I gasped for air, pulling myself out of the drowning memories. The surgery was over. I didn’t know how much time had passed. Suddenly, a crisp, bright voice rang through the room. “Dad! Mom! I heard you found my sister! I drove back overnight to see her! Is she okay?!” The voice leaned close to my ear, dripping with exaggerated guilt. “I’m so sorry… It’s all my fault. Sister, please wake up soon! You can hit me, you can scream at me, I’ll take it all!” The blood in my veins turned to ice. 4 The day finally came to remove my bandages. After a slight sting, I slowly opened my eyelids. The bright, unfamiliar light made me instinctively raise my hand to block it. Seeing my reaction, my parents let out a huge sigh of relief. “You can see! Oh, thank god.” The very first thing I saw was Sienna. She stood right behind my parents, smiling warmly at me, flashing her perfect dimples. She looked like an absolute angel. But panic clawed at my throat. Over the past three years, she had grown taller. Her hair fell in soft, elegant waves. She had blossomed into a stunning, confident young woman, radiating bright, youthful energy. She was so bright and flawless that I felt like a rat crawling out of a sewer. I felt entirely ashamed of my own existence. I quickly dropped my head, staring at the sheets. But she wasn’t going to let me hide. She reached out, forcefully tilting my chin up so she could examine my face. “You used to care so much about looking pretty, Sister. It’s such a shame your face is covered in scars now.” She looked at my mom. “Mom, my friend’s family owns a high end medical spa. Should we send Sister there to see if they can fix it?” My mom stepped forward and swatted Sienna’s hand away. She scolded her lightly, though her tone was utterly fond. “Where are your manners? Is that how you talk to your sister? We aren’t at home right now.” Realizing she had said the wrong thing, my mom glanced at me nervously and quickly changed the subject. “Well, now that your eyes are healed… we should talk about the baby.” Every eye in the room dropped to my stomach. My dad was the first to speak. “That bastard child needs to be aborted immediately.” He patted my shoulder, his voice firm but comforting. “Don’t be afraid. You are my daughter. Even if you were ruined by those men, it’s fine. Your mom and I will take care of you for the rest of your life.” My mom immediately agreed. She looked at Sienna with pure, unfiltered pride. “Your sister Sienna is so brilliant. She has such a bright future ahead of her. She’ll have her pick of incredible, successful men. We’ll just have her choose one of the good ones to take care of you.” Sienna’s smile stretched impossibly wide. She leaned her head affectionately on my mom’s shoulder. “Mom! You’re only worrying about Sister’s future! You’ve already got her whole life planned out. Am I not your daughter anymore?” “Yes, yes, you’re our spoiled little girl…” I sat quietly, watching them laugh and joke. I didn’t know why, but the metallic taste of blood suddenly filled my throat. The day of the abortion arrived. My parents had to run an errand, leaving Sienna alone with me in the hospital room. She gently rested her hand on my swollen stomach and suddenly asked, “Hazel, why did you even come back?” We were completely alone. The angelic mask melted off her face, twisting into something vicious and cruel. She looked down at me with absolute contempt. “You know, Mom and Dad are incredible people. They treat me better than my own biological parents ever did.” “That’s why I didn’t even shed a tear when my parents died in that car crash. I was five years old, and my only birthday wish was to stay with Mom and Dad forever.” “But then you showed up. You tried to steal the love that was supposed to be exclusively mine!” Sienna’s eyes were red with fury, glaring at me like I was a parasite. “Ever since they dragged you back from the countryside, they had to buy two of everything. You even had to sleep in my room! That is MY house!” I shrank back like a scolded dog, not daring to make a sound. So that was it. That was why Sienna handed me over to the monsters. I was the extra baggage in that house. My parents probably felt the exact same way. They just pitied me because I was stupid, and they didn’t want to hurt my feelings. But I’m really not stupid! The door to the hospital room swung open. Sienna’s face instantly morphed back into a sweet, dazzling smile. “Sister, once you’re all healed up, I’ll take you out to do something fun, okay?” Was she going to take me to the bad men again? My whole body started shaking. Terror gripped my chest. When the nurses wheeled me out of the room toward the surgical ward, I placed my hands over my round stomach. My mind was racing, desperately trying to figure out how to escape. Nobody in my family wanted me. I had to leave on my own. I couldn’t let the monsters hit me with the hammer again! Right before they took me into the operating room, I lied and said I needed to use the restroom. I slipped away. I walked for a long time until I found myself on the roof of the hospital. The sun was blinding. It made my new eyes ache. But my legs were too tired to keep going. I just stood there, letting the sun warm my skin. Suddenly, someone below screamed. “Look up there! Someone is going to jump!” I looked down in surprise. A massive crowd was gathering. Sirens started wailing all across the hospital grounds. Sienna was down there. And my parents, rushing frantically through the crowd. They were too far away for me to see their faces clearly, but I could hear their desperate, furious screams. “Hazel! Are you insane?! Get down from there right now!” “Hazel! We finally got you back, and now you pull this?! Are you trying to kill your father and me?!” So many people were pointing their phones up at me. I saw how angry and panicked my parents were. I wanted to climb down, but my body refused to move. The thick, jagged scars on my wrists suddenly started to itch furiously. I scratched at them until they tore open, the flesh turning into a bloody mess. I was having another episode. But I was terrified to tell my parents. I didn’t want them to hate me even more. A soft, quiet voice echoed in the back of my mind. Jump. The books I read said that when people die, they turn into stars and fly into the sky to watch over their families. My parents didn’t want to hurt me. They didn’t want to abandon me. But I needed to be a good girl. I needed to protect them. Once I figured it out, I smiled widely, waving down at my mom and dad. While they screamed in absolute, paralyzing terror, I stepped forward without a single trace of hesitation. Slowly, I fell backward… Hazel is going to be a little star now! I’m going to fly up into the sky and protect you. “NO!!!” People were screaming. People were crying. Time felt like it had completely stopped.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444414”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Seven years after I walked out of the opulent gates, I found my ex-husband standing by a dirty oil drum at the auto repair shop. He was a VIP, there to pick up his multi-million dollar supercar, the kind of man everyone in the city deferred to. The undisputed prince of the elite. And me? I was the car wash girl, in an ill-fitting uniform, my hands chapped and raw from the cold. For a full hour, he sat in the waiting lounge, never once glancing in my direction. Until the manager, eager to curry favor, pointed at a muddy tire and barked at me: “Go on, use a toothbrush to clean the pebbles out of that rim! One hundred bucks a pebble!” I did not hesitate. I knelt in the freezing water, ten degrees below zero, and used the hands that once played the piano to pick out the stones. Amidst the jeers and laughter, I shivered violently but dared not stop. When I finished the last one, I pushed myself to my feet, my knees screaming in protest. His cold, mocking voice cut through the air. “Still rather dig in the mud than come home and beg for mercy?” “Summer O’Connell, your pride sure fetches a high price!” I offered him a detached smile and extended my swollen, raw hands. “Thirty pebbles. Three thousand dollars. Cash or transfer?” Years had passed. Love and hate had long been buried. But three thousand dollars was just enough to buy my recently deceased daughter the cheapest plot in the cemetery. 1 The members of the supercar club surrounding us were filming with their phones. “Isn’t that the former Miss O’Connell? Look how far she’s fallen.” “Tsk, tsk. For a few thousand bucks, she’ll do anything.” Ethan Hill remained silent. Beside him, Chloe Hayes clung to his arm. She feigned a gasp, clutching her nose. “Oh, sister, it’s so cold, why are you wearing so little? Ethan, look, her hands are bleeding.” The malicious glee in her eyes was impossible to hide. Seven years ago, this woman had faked a fall, breaking her leg, and blamed it on me. Ethan believed her, forcing me to kneel and apologize. I refused. Pregnant and defiant, I was thrown out of his family home. “The money,” I demanded, my voice hoarse, my gaze fixed on Ethan. He sneered, pulling a wad of crimson bills from his leather wallet. Around three thousand. With a flick of his wrist, he didn’t hand them to me. Instead, he scattered them directly into the nearby black drum of waste engine oil. “You want the money?” “Fish it out yourself.” The manager, eager to please Ethan, kicked over a bucket of dirty water nearby. The greasy sludge splashed all over me. “Mr. Hill’s generosity! Aren’t you going to thank him?” But I did not hesitate. I knelt by the oil drum, plunging my hands into the nauseating, black sludge. One bill, two bills, three bills… The oil was foul and stung terribly on my raw, chapped skin. But I felt nothing. My mind was consumed by Carice. Carice was still in the hospital morgue. The attendant said if I didn’t pay to claim her by tonight, they would dispose of her as an unclaimed body. I meticulously retrieved each bill, wiping off the excess oil on my uniform. Ethan watched my desperate actions, his face growing darker with every moment. Suddenly, he strode forward, grabbing my collar and hauling me up from the oil drum. “Summer O’Connell, are you that desperate for money? Desperate enough to throw away your dignity?” He was furious. I forced a smile that was uglier than a grimace. “What’s dignity worth these days, Mr. Hill?” “Thank you for the charity.” He shoved me away. I lost my footing, my back slamming hard against the metal frame of the automatic car wash. A searing pain shot through my spine, as if it had broken. Ignoring the agony, I scrambled to grab the money scattered on the ground, then turned and ran. I dared not look back. Carice was waiting for me. I had to take her home. 2 Reeking of oil, I sprinted to the hospital. Passersby covered their noses, giving me a wide berth. Bursting into the morgue’s payment office, I thrust the wad of grimy bills through the slot. “I’m here to claim Carice Hill’s remains. This is the final payment.” The clerk behind the counter grimaced, picking up a bill with two disgusted fingers. “What is this? It’s all oil! The bill counter won’t even take it!” “How can I accept this?” The money was flung back at me, scattering across the floor. I panicked, frantically gathering the bills. “Please, just this once, I beg you, this is real money, it really is…” “My daughter has been lying in there for two days. It’s a cold freezer, and she hates the cold…” I knelt before the window, banging my head against the counter repeatedly. The clerk, though visibly uncomfortable, shook his head. “Ma’am, it’s not that I don’t want to help, but even the bank might not accept this. Please, just leave, don’t make a scene. It will be worse when security comes.” The clerk closed the window. I clutched the useless wad of bills, walking out of the hospital like a zombie. Night had fallen. I pulled out my phone, desperate to borrow money, to find someone to help. Scrolling through my contacts, I found only a handful of numbers. The socialites and trust fund kids who once fawned over me had all blocked me seven years ago. The only “friend” who answered, after listening to my desperate plea, simply said, “Summer, it’s not that I won’t lend you money. Ethan put out the word – anyone who helps you will regret it. Don’t blame me for not being loyal. You made your bed, now lie in it.” The call disconnected. The world went silent. I returned to my tiny, ten-square-meter basement rental. Before I even reached the door, I saw my landlord tossing my belongings outside. Carice’s tiny clothes, her tattered teddy bear, and my ill-fitting uniforms lay scattered in the mud. “Well, you’re finally back!” The landlord clutched her nose, pointing at the pile of junk. “Heard your daughter died at the hospital? What bad luck! Get your stuff and get out. I’m not renting this place anymore. Someone just died here, who’d want to live in it?” Rain was falling. It splattered on Carice’s favorite Winnie the Pooh bear. She had bought it with recycled cans, washing it countless times. It was old but clean. Now it was covered in mud. I rushed over, frantically scooping up the bear, trying to wipe away the mud with my sleeve. “Don’t throw it away! This is Carice’s!” “Get out! Just looking at you makes me sick!” The landlord shoved me hard, slamming the door shut. I fell back into the rain, clutching the muddy bear, clutching the useless, oil-soaked money. A raging fever blurred my vision. I heard Carice crying. She said, “Mommy, I’m cold.” She said, “Mommy, I want to go home. I want to sleep under a big tree.” I wiped the rain from my face. I couldn’t give up. Even if I died, I had to lay Carice to rest first. Ethan had blocked every path. So I would go to him. I would beg until he was satisfied. I heard Ethan was hosting a bachelor party at the “Twilight” club tonight, celebrating his engagement to Chloe. I staggered to my feet, tucking the Winnie the Pooh bear into my coat, and stumbled towards “Twilight.” “Twilight” was the city’s most exclusive, extravagant playground. Covered in oil and drenched from the rain, I was stopped by security guards at the door. “Where did this beggar come from? Get lost!” I dropped to my knees. “I need to see Ethan Hill. Please, just let me see Ethan Hill.” I kowtowed repeatedly. Ten minutes later, I was dragged into the luxurious private room. 3 The room reeked of stale smoke and expensive liquor. Ethan sat in the center of a plush leather sofa. “Well, well, isn’t it the ex-sister-in-law? What, car wash money not enough? Decided to try your luck here?” Laughter echoed, grating on my ears. I ignored them, walking straight to Ethan and kneeling again. My knees had long since gone numb. I pulled out the wad of money, still reeking of oil despite my attempts to clean it, and held it out in my palm. “This money… I can’t use it.” My voice trembled as I lowered my head, humiliated. “Mr. Hill, please, have mercy. Lift the ban. All I want is to buy Carice a burial plot. Once she’s laid to rest, I’ll disappear. You’ll never see me again.” Ethan didn’t take the money. “Summer O’Connell, your bastard child died?” Bastard. The word pierced me like a knife. “Her name was Carice.” “Good riddance. Saved her from growing up to be a nuisance.” My nails dug into my palms. I fought the urge to lunge at him and tear him apart. Chloe suddenly giggled, picking up a bottle of hard liquor from the table. “Ethan, sister looks so pitiful. Why don’t we help her out?” As she spoke, she motioned for a server to set up ten large beer mugs. They were for “depth charges”—high-proof liquor mixed with whiskey and energy drink. One could knock out a grown man. “Sister, money’s hard to come by these days. How about we play a game?” Chloe pointed at the drinks. “Five hundred a glass. You drink one, and Ethan will give you five hundred cash—clean money. Drink ten, and the ban is lifted immediately.” Ten glasses. Five thousand dollars. Exactly enough for a burial plot. But my body, ravaged by severe ulcers and unhealed postpartum complications, couldn’t handle even one glass, let alone ten. It would kill me. I did not hesitate. “Fine, I’ll drink.” I grabbed the first glass and tilted my head back, chugging it down. The fiery liquor burned my throat, and my stomach immediately cramped, making my vision blur with pain. “Cheers! Good one!” The people around cheered, egging me on. The second glass. The third. By the fourth, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I vomited a mouthful of bright red blood, mixed with the liquor, a horrifying sight. The private room fell silent for a moment. Ethan frowned, his fingers twitching instinctively. Chloe immediately stepped in front of him, blocking his view, and gasped dramatically, “Oh dear, sister is throwing up blood! Has she been drinking too much cheap liquor and ruined her stomach?” She turned to Ethan, pouting, “Ethan, it looks like sister really suffered for that scoundrel all these years.” At the mention of “scoundrel,” any ripple of concern in Ethan’s eyes vanished. He spoke coldly, “Keep going. Don’t stop until you finish.” I wiped the blood from my mouth. My hands trembled, unable to hold the glass steady. The fifth glass… The sixth… Each gulp felt like drinking battery acid. My vision swam, but I stared fixedly at the stack of cash on the table. By the eighth glass, I could no longer stand. I collapsed to the floor, convulsing violently. Blood poured continuously from my mouth, staining the expensive carpet. Was I dying? No, not yet. I hadn’t gotten the money. I struggled to crawl towards the table, my blood-soaked hands reaching for the cash. “Enough!” Ethan stood up, kicking the table over. Bottles crashed, shattering on the floor. He snatched the stack of money and violently threw it at my face. “Take the money, and get out!” My hands shaking, I picked up the bills one by one, clutching them to my chest. Chloe’s high heel stomped onto my hand, the heel grinding into my raw, chapped skin. Excruciating pain. “Sister, now that you have the money, go buy a coffin. Don’t die here and make a mess of Ethan’s club.” She whispered, her voice barely audible. “Your short-lived daughter deserved it.” I turned, dragging my broken body, and slowly, painstakingly, left the private room. 4 I crawled out of “Twilight.” The rain continued to fall, washing away the blood and alcohol from my body. I clutched the money tightly, even as my consciousness blurred and my stomach screamed in pain. I had to pick up Carice. I had to take her to the cemetery. I claimed Carice’s body from the hospital morgue and took her to the funeral home. After paying the fees, the staff looked at me as if I were insane. But I finally held the small urn. It was so light. My Carice. Born weighing only four pounds, she wasted away to skin and bones when she died. Burned to ash, she was barely this much. “Carice, Mommy’s taking you home.” “We’ll live in a big house, with big trees and flowers. No more sleeping in the basement.” Clutching the urn, I stumbled towards West Hill Cemetery. It was the most auspicious burial ground in the city. Carice had seen it in a picture book once and said she wanted to live there to see the stars. I couldn’t afford a plot there, so I could only buy one in the furthest corner. But it was enough. As long as she could rest in peace. By the time I reached the cemetery gates, the rain had stopped. Dawn was just breaking. I saw a familiar black Rolls-Royce parked there. It was Ethan’s car. Before I could react, Ethan and Chloe emerged, surrounded by a phalanx of bodyguards. They were there to inspect the Hill family mausoleum. Chloe’s eyes immediately landed on the box in my arms. She shrieked, dramatically hiding in Ethan’s embrace. “Ah! Ethan! That’s an urn! How unlucky!” “It’s our feng shui inspection day. She’s crashing it with a dead person’s ashes. Is she trying to curse us?” Ethan’s face darkened when he saw me. “Summer O’Connell, are you haunting me now?” “Is this really a place you should be?” I clutched the box tighter, retreating two steps. “I paid for this… This is a public cemetery. I have the right to be here.” “I just want to bury Carice. Once she’s buried, I’ll leave. I won’t bother you anymore.” I explained repeatedly, my voice hoarse and desperate. But Ethan didn’t believe me. “What Carice? I think you’re just carrying an empty box to gain sympathy and extort money!” In the chaos, Chloe suddenly lunged forward, pretending I pushed her to the ground. “Ow! My stomach… Ethan, she pushed me!” Ethan’s eyes hardened. To protect Chloe, he shoved me. “Crazy woman!” The push was forceful. I was already at my breaking point, my foot slipped, and I fell heavily onto the concrete. The urn flew from my grasp. I watched helplessly as the cheap wooden box shattered on the hard pavement, splitting into pieces. The gray-white ashes scattered into the muddy puddles. A gust of wind blew, scattering them further. They mixed with the grime, making it impossible to distinguish dirt from bone. I lay on the ground, stunned for two seconds. Then, a heart-wrenching wail tore from my throat. “Carice!!!” I scrambled forward on my hands and knees. I desperately scooped up the muddy water. “Carice… don’t be scared, Mommy’s here… Mommy will clean you up…” I cupped a handful of soaking wet mud, trying to separate the ashes from it. But it was impossible. It was powder. How could I separate it? My hands were covered in blood, my fingernails broken, yet all I could scoop up was dirty mud. “Why…” “Why won’t you even let her rest in peace?” I lifted my head, my face streaked with tears and mud, my eyes bloodshot as I stared at Ethan. Ethan froze. He looked at the tragic puddle of pale ash on the ground, feeling an unfamiliar chill creep over him for the first time. The sudden panic made him instinctively take a half step back. “She’s faking it! It must be the ashes of a cat or dog.” Chloe continued to fan the flames. I ignored her. I just stared at Ethan. Suddenly, I laughed. “Ethan Hill.” “Do you know who this is?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444430”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel