Category: English

My sister Rebecca’s engagement party was coming up. My mother Linda smiled warmly as she helped me try on my bridesmaid dress, telling me I was the most beautiful girl in the world. But the next second, I heard her vicious calculations from the depths of her mind: “The waistline of this dress is perfect—it’ll cover the incision nicely. Next week, after we harvest her kidney for Rebecca, Rebecca can marry into the Harrison family in style. As for whether this one survives the operating table… well, that’ll be up to fate.” In that moment, I felt like I’d plunged into an icy abyss. So I was never the beloved younger daughter. I was just a spare blood bag they’d carefully raised for eighteen years to use for Rebecca! Since you showed no humanity, don’t blame me for tearing down this facade of a family. Spotlights shone on the enormous floor-length mirror. I stood on a raised platform wearing a pure white bridesmaid dress. Linda knelt at my feet, several pins clenched between her lips, her hands deftly adjusting the fabric at my waist. She looked up at me, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes filled with love and tenderness. “Our Cassie is so beautiful. When your sister gets married, you’ll definitely be the prettiest bridesmaid there.” She reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, her fingertips warm against my skin. I looked at our reflection in the mirror—at the face that resembled hers—and started to form a happy smile. But then, abruptly, a cold, sharp voice echoed in my mind. *[This waistline is perfect. Next week after the surgery, we’ll slap some gauze on the wound, and this dress will hide everything.]* *[As long as she doesn’t die on the operating table, Rebecca’s illness will be cured. The wedding money and villa from the Harrisons will be secured.]* *[Even if this worthless girl does have an accident, trading one cheap life for our family’s prosperity for the rest of our lives—totally worth it.]* My smile froze instantly on my face. All the blood in my body seemed to drain away in that instant. My hands and feet turned ice-cold, like dead flesh. I stared hard at Linda in front of me. Her lips hadn’t moved at all. She still wore that motherly smile. But that voice—it was unmistakably hers, with a chilling calculation that made my skin crawl. “Linda…” I heard my own voice trembling. Linda immediately stood up, gripping my hands with a face full of concern. “What’s wrong? Is the dress too tight? Why is your face so pale?” *[Did this girl figure something out? No way. I need to watch her closely these next few days. Can’t let anything go wrong now.]* I bit down hard on my tongue until I tasted blood, barely suppressing the fear rising in my chest. “I’m fine. Maybe I didn’t sleep well last night. Just a little low blood sugar.” I forced out a weak smile. Linda breathed a sigh of relief and patted the back of my hand. “That’s good. The SATs are coming up soon—you need to take care of yourself. Your sister is counting on you to be there when she gets married.” I lowered my eyelids, hiding the coldness in my eyes. Be there when she gets married? More like hand over my kidney. Maybe even my life. This was my last day as their obedient daughter.

On the drive home, Richard was behind the wheel. He’d always been a man of few words, but today he kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “Cassie, take tomorrow off from school and go to the hospital for a full physical. You’re about to start college—need to make sure you’re healthy.” His tone was casual, like he was discussing something trivial. I leaned against the car window, watching the scenery fly past, saying nothing. Linda immediately chimed in. “That’s right. Your sister coughed up blood again today. She’s getting an IV at the hospital. If you were half as precious as your sister, I’d feel so much better.” *[Tomorrow once the compatibility results come back, we’ll schedule the surgery immediately. Richard’s already bought the drugs off the black market. She won’t have a choice.]* I suddenly gripped the seatbelt tighter, my knuckles turning white. Eighteen years. I’d finally seen this so-called family for what it really was. The living room walls were covered with Rebecca’s glamour shots from childhood to now. She wore princess dresses and tiaras—the treasured jewel held in the palm of the entire family. As for me? I didn’t have a single solo photo. The only picture I appeared in was a group shot from middle school graduation, pressed under the glass of the coffee table at the very bottom. All my life, if Rebecca coughed once, Linda would be frantic with worry. If Rebecca had a fever, Richard would drive across half the city in the middle of the night to buy her the strawberries she wanted. And me? When I had a 103-degree fever and was barely conscious, Linda just tossed two fever reducers on my nightstand. “Be good, Cassie. I have to go to the hospital to be with Rebecca. Take your medicine and sleep it off.” I used to think they favored Rebecca more because she wasn’t healthy. I tried so hard to be good, studied so hard, did all the housework—all just to earn even a single look of approval from them. Now I understood. I was never their daughter at all. I was just a “spare blood bag” they’d carefully raised and were ready to slaughter at any time—all for Rebecca.

At dinnertime, the table was laden with lavish dishes. Linda brought over a steaming bowl of beef stew and personally placed it in front of me. “Cassie, eat up. It’ll be good for you.” She smiled so kindly, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes smoothing out. *[I put half a sleeping pill in this soup. Once she’s out cold, we’ll take her straight to the hospital first thing tomorrow morning to draw blood. Saves us the trouble of dealing with a fuss.]* I looked at the bowl with its oily sheen, my stomach churning. “Thanks, Linda.” I picked up the bowl and stirred it gently with my spoon. Linda sat across from me, eyes fixed on my every movement without blinking. “Hurry up and eat. It’ll get fishy if it gets cold,” she urged. I scooped up a spoonful and brought it to my lips, then pretended to be burned and started coughing violently. “Burned! So hot!” I bent over, spitting all the soup into a tissue I’d prepared earlier, then quickly stuffed it into my sleeve. “You careless child.” Linda frowned, a flash of impatience in her tone. *[What a useless thing. Can’t even drink soup without choking. Hurry up and finish so she can sleep. Can’t delay tomorrow.]* I looked up, my eyes red from coughing. “Linda, I really can’t drink any more. I’m going to bed.” Linda looked at the bowl still more than half full, her expression darkening. “No way. You have to finish it! I spent all afternoon making this!” She suddenly stood up, grabbed the bowl, and tried to force it down my throat. I dodged to the side. The soup splashed onto the tablecloth. “Linda! I really can’t drink any more!” I raised my voice. Richard slammed his fork down hard on the table with a dull thud. “What kind of way is that to talk to your mother? She told you to drink, so drink!” I looked at their faces as they gradually shed their masks, the coldness in my heart growing deeper. I couldn’t confront them head-on right now. I took a deep breath, putting on a look of surrender, picked up the bowl, and drank it down in big gulps. Except each time, I cleverly held the liquid in my mouth, then spit it into the sponge hidden in my sleeve while pretending to wipe my mouth. After the last swallow, I set the empty bowl heavily on the table. “I’m done. Can I go to bed now?” Linda’s expression finally softened, revealing a satisfied smile. “That’s more like it. Go on, get some good sleep.” *[The drug takes effect in half an hour. Tonight’s in the bag.]*

Back in my room, I immediately locked the door. I rushed to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, stuck my fingers down my throat, and forced myself to vomit. I didn’t stop until I’d thrown up everything in my stomach, even the acid. I collapsed weakly against the sink. In the mirror, my face was deathly pale, my eyes bloodshot—like a ghost crawling out of hell. I didn’t cry. My tears had dried up the moment I saw the truth. I dug deep in my backpack and pulled out a small glass vial, carefully collecting the residual soup squeezed from the sponge in my sleeve. This was evidence of their crime. I pulled out an old, obsolete phone, connected it to a power bank, hid it in the pile of clutter under my bed, and activated the long-term recording function. After finishing all this, I lay in bed, closed my eyes, and waited quietly. Midnight. Light footsteps came from outside the door. Click—the lock was opened from the outside with a spare key. I slowed my breathing and lay completely still. Linda and Richard tiptoed to my bedside. “Is she asleep?” Richard whispered. Linda waved her hand in front of my eyes, then pushed my shoulder. “Out cold. This drug is strong—couldn’t wake a pig.” She laughed coldly, her tone devoid of any pity for her daughter—only the satisfaction of a successful scheme. “Alright, quit talking. Hurry up and get the consent form,” Richard urged. The sound of rustling papers filled the air. “Here, hold her thumb and press it right here.” Linda directed. I felt a rough hand grab my right thumb and press it toward something cold—an ink pad. *[Once she’s stamped her thumbprint, this girl won’t be able to fly away even with wings. Even if she wakes up later, it’ll be in black and white. She won’t be able to deny it.]* Just as my fingertip was about to touch that so-called “voluntary organ donation consent form,” I suddenly opened my eyes. In the darkness, my eyes shone brightly. “Linda, Richard—what are you doing?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “396124”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

After three years in a coma from a car accident, the first thing I heard when I woke up was my wife’s voice. “Ethan, our son got a medal at kindergarten today. He says when Daddy wakes up, he wants to give it to him.” My heart ached, my nose tingling with emotion. These three years, she’d raised our child alone while caring for me in my coma. How hard that must have been. “Mommy,” a small voice piped up—our son’s. “Does Daddy not like me anymore? Why won’t he wake up?” “Silly boy,” Claire laughed softly, though her voice was thick with tears. “Daddy loves you most of all. He’ll wake up very soon.” I couldn’t hold back any longer. I forced my eyes open. But standing by my hospital bed were two people I had never seen before in my life. This was a woman in her early thirties. Regular features, gold-rimmed glasses, wearing a well-tailored business suit. She held a warm towel in her hand, frozen mid-air. Next to her stood a boy about five or six years old. Dressed in a little suit, his short hair neatly combed, clutching a teddy bear. I didn’t know them. Absolutely didn’t know them. My heartbeat accelerated instantly, blood rushing to my brain. Instinctively, I jerked my hand back, my body shrinking uncontrollably toward the headboard. “Who are you? I don’t know you. Why are you in my hospital room?” The woman froze. The towel dropped onto the blanket. Her eyes widened, her face filled with disbelief, then her eyes quickly reddened and she lunged forward to embrace me. “You’re awake! You’re finally awake! Doctor! Someone come quick!” She turned toward the door and shouted, her voice carrying wild joy and choking emotion. The little boy also rushed to the bedside, grabbing the hem of my hospital gown, bursting into tears. “Daddy, you’re finally talking to me! I missed you so much!” I struggled desperately, pushing the woman’s shoulders away, tearing the boy’s hands off. “Don’t touch me! I don’t know you! Where’s Claire? Where’s my wife Claire? And my son—where did you take them?” I gasped for air, my eyes fixed on these two strangers. The woman stumbled backward from my push, retreating two steps. The wild joy on her face froze, replaced by deep shock and hurt. She tried to touch me again, but her hand stopped mid-air. “What are you talking about? I am Claire.” “This is our son. Look at me carefully. Don’t you remember us?” I stared hard at her face. Not Claire. Absolutely not. Claire had a small mole at the corner of her mouth that looked especially gentle when she smiled. Claire’s chin was more pointed too, her eyes more curved. This woman in front of me was completely different. “Bullshit! You’re not Claire at all! Who are you? What do you want?” I grabbed the water glass from beside my pillow and smashed it on the floor. The sound of shattering glass exploded in the hospital room. Hearing the commotion, several doctors and nurses in white coats rushed in from outside. Dr. Thompson, the head physician, strode quickly to my bedside and held down my flailing arms. “Mr. Wilson, calm down! You just woke up, you can’t get too emotional!” I grabbed Dr. Thompson’s sleeve and pointed at the woman, shouting. “Dr. Thompson, I don’t know them! They’re not my family! Please call the police and get them out of here!” Dr. Thompson frowned, glanced at the woman, then back at me. She sighed, her tone carrying a trace of pity. “Mr. Wilson, take a deep breath first.” “This is indeed your wife, Claire.” “These three years, she’s been at the hospital with you every day.” “All these years, she’s been the one taking care of you.” “As for this little boy, he’s your son.” “Based on your current condition, our preliminary diagnosis is that because you suffered a severe car accident with frontal lobe damage, you’ve developed transient prosopagnosia, commonly known as face blindness.” “Your current reaction is quite normal.” I was stunned. Frontal lobe damage? Memory confusion? How was that possible? Claire’s face was crystal clear in my mind. I remembered the restaurant where we had our first date. I remembered how she nodded with tears in her eyes when she accepted my proposal. I remembered her weak but happy smile when our son was born. These memories were so vivid, as if they’d happened yesterday. How could they be confused?

The woman who claimed to be Claire approached with red-rimmed eyes, her voice hoarse. “It’s okay.” “It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember me, as long as you’re awake.” Then she began recounting those moments that belonged only to us. “I really am Claire.” “Do you remember the Japanese restaurant we went to on our first date? You insisted on ordering the crazy spicy wasabi octopus and ended up crying from the heat.” “Do you remember the day our son was born? I was crying in pain in the delivery room, and you were so nervous outside that you dropped our documents down a drain. The building manager had to fish them out for half an hour.” “Have you forgotten all of this?” She was trying to prove her identity through these details. My brain exploded with a boom. She was completely right. These were intimate details that only Claire and I knew. I stared at her hard, trying to find any flaw in her face. Nothing. Her eyes were filled with deep affection, pain, and the joy of recovery. The little boy tugged at my sleeve, crying so hard he could barely breathe. “Daddy, don’t you want me anymore?” “When you were sick, I drew pictures for you every day. The nurse said if you saw them you’d wake up. Will you look at them, please?” I looked at the little boy’s completely unfamiliar face, my heart twisting painfully. Had I really gone crazy? Had my brain really malfunctioned, replacing my wife and son’s faces with those of strangers? Dr. Thompson patted my shoulder. “Mr. Wilson, there are many cases of post-traumatic sequelae in medicine.” “You just woke up. Cooperate with treatment and recover slowly.” “Claire, please take the child outside and let him rest alone for a while.” The woman nodded, wiped her tears, and bent down to pick up the little boy. At the doorway, she looked back at me, her eyes full of longing. The hospital room door closed. I lay alone in bed, staring at the ceiling. Everything around me seemed absurd. Who were they? Had I really lost my memory? Over the next few days, I cooperated with all the doctors’ examinations. MRI, EEG, psychological evaluation. All the reports pointed to the same conclusion: my brain had organic damage causing cognitive impairment. To prove these conclusions, the doctors even showed me our photos and family portraits. And videos of our past life together. Trying to use these to reawaken my memories. The woman claiming to be Claire came every day. She cooked all kinds of dishes I loved in different ways. Steak, sushi. The taste was incredibly identical to what I remembered Claire cooking. She would sit by my bed, holding my hand, telling me about what happened over these three years. How she sought medical treatment everywhere, how our son was bullied at kindergarten, how she cried looking at my photos every night. She spoke with such genuine emotion, tears streaming down her face. Several times, I almost wavered. Had I really gotten sick? But one extremely small detail instantly brought me back to clarity. That afternoon, she peeled an apple and handed it to me. “Eat some fruit to get your vitamins.” I looked at the apple offered to my mouth but didn’t take it. The real Claire was severely allergic to apples. If she touched even a little apple juice, her skin would break out in red rashes, and she could even have difficulty breathing. So all these years, we never bought apples at home, not even apple-flavored drinks. I deliberately pretended to have no appetite and pushed her hand away. “I don’t want any. You eat it.” Without the slightest hesitation, she pulled back her hand, took a big bite of the apple, chewed and swallowed it. “It’s sweet. Sure you don’t want any?” I watched her completely normal reaction, cold sweat instantly seeping from my palms.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “396125”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My husband accidentally canceled the order for the luxury necklace I’d been dreaming about. I had no choice but to try my luck on a secondhand marketplace, and incredibly, I found a girl selling one. “You’ve got great taste. This necklace is a limited edition—only one exists, and my boyfriend managed to snag it!” “I’ll tell you a secret—I didn’t actually like it that much, but my boyfriend’s stalker wanted it, which really pissed me off!” “So my boyfriend canceled that stalker’s order to make me happy, then rushed to buy it for me.” My heart sank. I clicked on the girl’s profile picture. In the photo, a man and woman had their fingers interlaced. And the scar on the man’s hand was identical to my husband’s. The computer screen reflected my pale face. My palms began to sweat. I wanted to ask more, but my fingers trembled too much to press the keyboard. Could it be a coincidence? The image of Ethan’s guilt-ridden face flashed through my mind again. “Charlotte, I really didn’t mean it. My finger slipped and hit cancel.” “Next time I’ll definitely buy you something more expensive and better!” I steadied myself and sent a message. “Hey, I see we live close to each other. Let’s add each other on SnapChat and meet up for an in-person transaction!” She readily agreed. Soon I met her at a nearby café. Just as I’d imagined, the girl sitting across from me was young and beautiful, with an innocent charm in her eyes that spoke of someone untouched by the world’s harshness. The café was warm. She took off her coat, and a hand warmer fell from her body. She picked it up and smiled at me sheepishly. “It’s all my boyfriend’s fault. He said it was cold today and insisted on putting this on me.” “Being with him, I’m turning into such a baby.” “When it gets cold, he nags me to dress warmer. During my period, he makes me hot milk. My friends tease me that I’m like a little kid.” She complained in a murmur, but pride filled every corner of her eyes and brows. I tried to comfort myself, trembling inside. It couldn’t be Ethan. My Ethan looked down on those clingy, fussy men. He always said he was meant for big things, that a mature woman shouldn’t bother him with trivial matters. So when I had cramps so bad I nearly fainted, I could only take a taxi to the hospital myself. So when I got too drunk to walk after entertaining clients, I just called a rideshare. So the man she described who took care of her every little need absolutely couldn’t be Ethan. “Charlotte, are you okay?” The girl across from me waved her hand in front of my eyes, puzzled. I snapped back to reality and smiled apologetically. “It’s nothing. I’m just checking the necklace for any issues.” The girl happily took out the necklace and placed it in front of me. “I heard this necklace’s design was inspired by some painter’s work. There’s only one. My boyfriend’s stalker waited forever to get it.” “I was originally going to throw this necklace away rather than let that bitch have it, but it’s fate that I can sell it to you instead.” I took the necklace and silently traced the iris flower on it, my eyes stinging. This necklace’s inspiration came from my late mother’s painting, which was why I’d been longing for it. Ethan knew how important this necklace was to me. It was an accident. It had to be an accident. I told myself this over and over in my mind, but my hands began to shake uncontrollably. The girl continued talking to herself. “Charlotte, you don’t know how annoying my boyfriend’s stalker is. She shamelessly throws herself at him, trying to be a homewrecker.” “She doesn’t even look at herself—so ugly, yet still trying to seduce someone.” “Look, this is what my boyfriend sent me. Isn’t this bitch disgusting?” She pulled out her phone to show me. With just one glance, all the blood in my body seemed to freeze. On her phone was a deliberately uglified photo of me. And I’d only ever sent this selfie to Ethan. I stood up abruptly, my face ashen, and threw out a sentence. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to buy it anymore.” I turned, grabbed my bag, and left. The girl’s expression changed. “Wait, what’s your problem? Didn’t we already agree?” She barely managed to chase after me and blocked me at the door. During the struggle, a delivery bike came straight at us. Just then, a figure rushed over and pulled the girl aside. I couldn’t dodge in time and was hit square on the foot by the scooter. I looked up at the person in front of me, enduring the piercing pain. The heart I’d been holding in suspense finally dropped. So it really was him.

Ethan anxiously checked whether the girl was hurt. The girl’s face lit up with delight. “Why did you come?” Ethan affectionately tapped her nose. “I was worried about you, little fool. Afraid you’d run into some bad person.” The girl then pointed at me angrily and scolded. “I really did meet a psycho. We agreed on everything, then suddenly she says she won’t buy it.” I watched as Ethan’s eyes met mine. His previously smiling expression suddenly froze. The girl looked at the man beside her suspiciously and pushed him. “Do you know her?” Ethan’s eyes darted away as he flatly denied it. “How would I know this kind of woman?” I was about to speak when he interrupted. “I’d better take you to the hospital to get checked out. Otherwise I won’t feel at ease.” With that, he pulled the girl away in a hurry. Leaving me sitting alone on the ground. After a while, a message from him popped up on my phone. “Charlotte, go home first. I’ll explain to you later.” “Trust me, I have my reasons! I love you!” A piercing pain came from my foot. It turned out he hadn’t noticed at all. I remembered when we first got together—when I got a tiny paper cut, he made such a fuss about going to the hospital. I forced myself to stand up and called my best friend, Mia. She rushed over immediately without a second word. At the hospital, it wasn’t until the doctor finished bandaging my injured leg that she finally relaxed. She’d just sat down by the hospital bed when she couldn’t help but curse angrily. “Your foot is so badly injured, and that bastard Ethan is God knows where! I called him over a dozen times and he didn’t answer.” “When he shows up, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind!” I stared vacantly at the ceiling, my eyes dry and stinging. “Ethan… he’s having an affair.” Mia’s mouth dropped open in shock, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What?! He actually dared to cheat?” “That son of a bitch! All these years, if it weren’t for you running the company inside and out, what would he be!” “Just wait, I’m going to destroy him and that homewrecker.” I stopped her. “Don’t alert them yet. Help me find out who that woman is. We’ll slap his face once we’ve collected enough evidence.” I never fought unprepared battles. Ethan and I were too deeply entangled over the years. Right now I had no concrete evidence. Acting rashly wouldn’t guarantee a complete victory. Mia patted my hand with a complicated expression. “Charlotte, don’t worry. You’ve got me.” “I’ll make sure that bastard pays the price he deserves!” It wasn’t until evening that Ethan rushed over carrying soup. “Charlotte, I didn’t know your foot was injured. How is it? Is it serious?” “I brought your favorite chicken soup. Try some.” He brought over the hot soup and even carefully blew on it to cool it before holding it to my lips. A strong ginger smell made me nauseous. I’m allergic to ginger. Ethan used to carefully pick out all the ginger from my food. I turned away and pushed it aside. The soup spilled all over the floor. His hand froze in midair, his expression stiffening. Then he smiled helplessly. “Charlotte, you’re throwing a tantrum again. You still don’t trust me?” “That girl is the heiress of Summers Corporation. I’m just playing along with her.” “Once we land that big Summers Corporation project, our company can successfully go public and you won’t have to work so hard.” “I’m doing this for our future. Be sensible and listen.” That phrase again—be sensible, listen. He spoke so righteously, his eyes full of disapproval, as if I were making a scene. Thinking of the photo Mia sent me this afternoon of a naked man and woman in a car, nausea rose in my chest. I opened my mouth, my voice hoarse. “Are you sure she’s the Summers Corporation heiress?” Ethan paused, then laughed lightly. “How could it be false? I had someone investigate long ago.” “Don’t worry, I love you most. She’s just for fun.” I closed my eyes, unwilling to deal with him anymore. He didn’t get angry. He tucked in my blanket and lay down on the accompanying bed beside me. I woke up thirsty in the middle of the night to find the bed beside me empty. I got up and had just stepped out when I heard the sounds of a man and woman panting from the doctor’s on-call room across the hall. Through the door crack, I saw that familiar figure.

The woman’s hands clutched tightly around the man’s neck. Ethan was covered in sweat but held the woman’s waist tightly, pressing her closer to himself. With a powerful thrust, the woman let out a muffled moan. “Baby, why are you being so rough?” “What if someone hears us?” Ethan laughed softly. “You little temptress. Even on duty you can’t help seducing people.” “You sent me those photos this afternoon—wasn’t that you tempting me with your uniform?” “I’ve been waiting since this afternoon. How can you not handle it already?” “Besides, so what if someone hears? Your dad owns this hospital. Who would dare say anything?” The man thrust forward again mischievously, earning a bashful laugh from the woman. My heart sank. I realized his rushing over tonight wasn’t for me at all. I recalled the information Mia sent this afternoon. Sophia Summers—a nurse at this very hospital. So he pretended to be worried about me, but what he was really thinking about was another woman’s uniform seduction. How laughable. My heart felt like it had fallen into an ice cellar, so cold I couldn’t breathe. I tremblingly took out my phone and captured the image of the two people entangled before me. Then I silently returned to the hospital room. Just as I lay down, a message popped up on my phone. “See? He loves me. All I have to do is crook my finger and he comes running back to me.” “You filthy bitch, he doesn’t love you anymore. If you weren’t still somewhat useful, he would’ve dumped you long ago.” “I’m warning you—get lost while you still can. Don’t humiliate yourself.” It was Sophia Summers. She’d seen me. She’d deliberately called Ethan over. I coldly looked at the compromising photos she sent, one after another, then downloaded and saved them. Since the enemy was foolish enough to provide evidence herself, I would gladly accept it. When I woke up the next morning, the space beside me was still empty. A message from Ethan lay on my phone. “Charlotte, something urgent came up at the company. I’m going to handle it. Discharge yourself.” “Be good. I’ll bring you a present tonight.” Though I’d expected it, my heart still couldn’t help but ache. I packed up my things alone and prepared to handle the discharge, but at a corridor corner I ran head-on into the man who’d just said he was busy handling company business. Ethan was coaxing a pouting Sophia Summers with a grin. “Sweetheart, I lined up early this morning to buy these macarons. Just try one bite.” My brow twitched slightly. I used to love these macarons, but Ethan always said waiting in line was a waste of time. So he didn’t mind wasting time—he just minded wasting time on me. The woman huffed and threw a tantrum. “Who knows if you bought them for me or for that bitch? If I hadn’t found out, you were even going to buy her a present!” The man coaxed her gently. “Of course they’re for you. I already told you, I’m just using her. With the company about to go public, once the project succeeds, I’ll break up with her immediately.” “The present I was going to give her was just a freebie from when I bought your necklace. You’re even jealous of that?” I couldn’t take it anymore and threw my bag at him. “Ethan, this is what you call playing along?” The man looked up and met my eyes, a flash of panic in them. Sophia Summers beside him furrowed her brow and pushed me hard with disgust on her face. “Why haven’t you left yet, you bitch? Still haunting us like a ghost. Who gave you the nerve to hit someone?” I barely steadied myself and was about to slap her across the face when Ethan reached out and blocked me. The scar on the back of his hand was particularly clear. That was from when we’d just started our business and landed a big project, then got targeted by competitors for revenge. He’d blocked a bottle someone smashed at me with his bare hand, leaving that scar. And now he was using that same hand to block my retaliation against someone else. Ethan grabbed my hand, impatience on his face. “Charlotte, that’s enough. You’re going too far.” “Go home first. Don’t make a scene here. We’ll talk about it slowly when we get back.” People gradually gathered around, pointing and whispering at us. “Look at that guy—this woman’s probably a mistress coming to demand money.” “These days mistresses are so brazen. What is the world coming to?” I was about to retort when Sophia Summers in front of me pulled out a booklet and threw it at my head. “She is a mistress. Already divorced my boyfriend, but still won’t let go.” I looked at the divorce certificate on the ground, my expression freezing.

Then I laughed. “I didn’t even know I’d been divorced.” Sophia Summers stood with her hands on her hips, looking at me with contempt. “You old hag, last time you clearly agreed to divorce him, and now you’re playing dumb.” Panic flashed in Ethan’s eyes. He didn’t dare look at me directly. I picked up the certificate from the ground and saw the pages without an official seal. Suddenly I understood. Ethan had forged a divorce certificate to deceive her. I remembered on our wedding registration day, Ethan hadn’t slept all night and dragged me to the city hall first thing in the morning. I’d teased him for being as eager as a child. He held the bright red marriage certificate with reddened eyes and hugged me. “Charlotte, how fortunate I am to marry you.” “I’ll keep this marriage certificate safe. Even when we’re old, it’ll be buried with us.” And now he’d so easily given it up. Even if it was fake, it was equally disgusting! I was about to speak with a dark expression when Ethan raised his hand and slapped me. “Haven’t you made enough of a scene? Aren’t you embarrassed enough!” While I was stunned, he pulled Sophia Summers away in a hurry. Leaving me sitting alone. I looked at their retreating figures, my chest aching more and more, until I finally passed out. When I opened my eyes again, I only saw Mia by the hospital bed. Her eyes were full of anxiety and heartache. “Charlotte, you… you’re pregnant.” “The doctor said you have PCOS. If you lose this one, you might never be able to be a mother again.” My heart clenched. I slowly touched my abdomen—a life was beginning to grow here. A message from Ethan popped up on my phone. “Charlotte, you went too far today, embarrassing Sophia in public and nearly making me lose face.” “I already told you, I’m just playing along. In one week, Summers Corporation will sign the project contract.” “After that I’ll break it off with her and come back to you. Let’s both calm down for now.” Looking at Ethan’s words, waves of nausea churned in my stomach. How could someone speak of cheating so righteously? Garbage should be thrown away. If we’re breaking up, we should break up cleanly. Before I could make a decision, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. I collapsed to the floor, and the medical staff rushed me into the operating room. When I woke up, the doctor told me I had lost the baby due to the trauma from the scooter accident and the emotional distress. My heart shattered, but there was nothing I could do. Even as I was wheeled out of the operating room, pale-faced, Ethan never sent me another message. His social media was also silent. Mia handed me her phone with red eyes. “That bastard! You’re here suffering, and he’s traveling the world with his mistress.” It wasn’t that his social media was silent—he’d chosen to block me. I silently scrolled through the man’s feed. It was all sweet photos of him and Sophia Summers. They went to the Arctic to see the Northern Lights together, to Bali to watch the sunset—all the places he’d promised to take me. He’d always told me he had no time, but now he finally had time—to go with another woman. Looking at the man’s genuinely happy smile in the photos, I looked up and smiled reassuringly at Mia. “Don’t worry. Soon it’ll be their turn to cry.” After being discharged, I immediately met with a lawyer, then met with someone else. Summers Corporation was undergoing earth-shattering changes, but the two people still playing outside were completely unaware. The day before the signing ceremony between Luke Corporation and Summers Corporation, I received a call from Ethan. “Charlotte, you’ve calmed down enough by now, haven’t you?” “Although I haven’t been with you lately, I’ve still been thinking of you. I booked you a room at the hot spring resort in the Northside. Go relax.” The Northside was miles away from the signing location. He was worried about me and wanted to send me far away. As if. After hanging up, a smile curved my lips. The next morning, watching the location of my car on his phone move farther and farther away, Ethan finally relaxed and held Sophia Summers’s hand, waiting for Summers Corporation’s representatives to arrive for the signing. But even past the appointed time, Summers Corporation’s representative still hadn’t appeared. Sophia Summers smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll call my dad.” But the line was busy. A bad feeling suddenly welled up in Ethan’s heart. The door opened. Everyone looked up at once. Sophia Summers cried out in shock. “How is it you?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “396126”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

In the third month of being exploited by my boss, I custom-ordered a biosynthetic android that looked exactly like him. During the day, I’d get yelled at by my boss at the company. At night, I’d tie the android to my bed and have my way with him. Until one day at the company physical, I accidentally discovered I was pregnant. When I rushed home in a panic, I saw rows of bodyguards bowing to the android I’d bought: “Mr. Spencer, the chairman sent us to bring you home.” I stared in confusion: “What?” I was a humble wage slave. Because I was exploited daily by my idiot boss Spencer Moore, I’d snapped. I specifically went on Amazon and spent $999 to custom-order an android modeled after him. I swore that once it arrived, I’d play with him like a dog! Slap his face, make him call me master, and force him to stay on his knees at all times! Make him become my complete and total stress relief tool! By coincidence, the delivery was efficient. Just as I was fantasizing, a message suddenly came through. Oh snap, the android had arrived. The corners of my mouth curved up. My mood lifted considerably. I glanced at the time—it was time to clock out. I’d just picked up my bag to bolt when I turned around and crashed straight into someone’s pecs. Holy shit, they’re that big? That well-built? I instinctively reached out and squeezed, tears unconsciously flowing from the corners of my mouth. Just as I was about to go for seconds, a familiar male voice came from above my head: “Want to go a few more rounds?” A chill instantly spread down my spine. I quickly backed up several steps. Only then did I clearly see the devastatingly beautiful face before me. It was Spencer! The long-haired man tugged at his tie, squinting as he looked me over: “Where are you planning to go?” Duh, I’m clocking out! What, should I go to your house? I silently complained internally, but on the surface I smiled awkwardly: “Boss, it’s quitting time. I was planning to head home.” Spencer lifted his eyelids: “There’s a company gathering today. Did you forget?” Hearing that dangerous tone, my head immediately shook like a rattle drum. “Didn’t forget, didn’t forget. It’s right here in my mind.” “Just now was just a joke. I’ll head out right away.” Fuck! Can’t clock out on time again! I’ll get rid of this bloodsucking capitalist sooner or later! Although I only drank one glass of alcohol in the end, I’m also a one-glass lightweight. After the team building ended, I could barely stand. Getting home became a problem. Fortunately, Spencer still had some conscience and offered to drive me home. In the passenger seat, I tried to fasten my seatbelt but couldn’t get it to work. Just as I was getting frustrated, Spencer suddenly leaned over to help me fasten it. A cool cedar scent washed over me. Turning my head, his superior profile was right there. A small strand of long hair fell onto my collar. Made me unconsciously swallow and look out the window. Okay, fine. Although Spencer was exploitative and only knew how to squeeze me dry every day… He actually looked pretty good… “Do you want to enter the code yourself or tell me?” At my front door, the man supported me with one arm while turning his head to ask. Because of the close distance, his warm breath sprayed across my face. It tickled. I couldn’t help but pull back a bit. And told him the code directly. Just as I was about to walk in, my foot caught on the large delivery box at the doorway. I stumbled directly into Spencer’s arms, crashing into his pecs again. Really looks slim in clothes, can’t tell he’s built so well. I really want to rip his shirt open and slap this spot hard a few times. “What’s this?” Maybe for the sake of a drunk person, Spencer didn’t immediately push me out of his arms. Instead, he slightly supported my waist to keep me from losing balance and falling again. Only after I’d had my fill of burying my face in his pecs did I squint and carefully examine the large box at my doorway. Could it be the custom Spencer android? At this thought, my heart couldn’t help but itch. Maybe because of the alcohol, I gradually became bolder. My attitude toward the real deal became increasingly unguarded: “A good thing.” “A secret.” “You want to know?” “I’m not telling you.” “Unless…” I moved close to the long-haired man’s ear, deliberately teasing: “Unless you call me master.” As soon as the words left my mouth, my eyelids started fighting each other. My head tilted, and I couldn’t help falling asleep in Spencer’s arms. My lips brushed against something, felt soft and a bit warm…

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in my own bed. I shook my head—still had that throbbing hangover pain. In my peripheral vision, I caught sight of another person’s figure. Scared me so badly my whole body jumped. Spencer’s face immediately came into view. I reflexively stood up, thinking I was at the company being a corporate slave, wanting to smile and greet him. But then I noticed the man seemed a bit different from usual. His expression was more vacant. And the clothes he was wearing were different from last night’s. A bit smaller, didn’t fit quite right. Could that perfectionist Spencer, who was picky about everything, tolerate that? My gaze shifted to the opened large box not far from the bed. Suddenly understood. Turns out the one standing in front of me wasn’t the real Spencer, but the android I bought! I probably opened it when I came back last night, then forgot about it after blacking out. “Scared the hell out of me!” I immediately walked over. Looking at the android’s full chest, I gave it a vicious slap. The sound was exceptionally loud. Holy shit! This feels way too realistic, doesn’t it? I couldn’t help but marvel. Not just the skin—even the facial details were identical to the real Spencer. After I slapped his chest, an expression of disbelief appeared on his face: “Wendy, what are you doing?” Even the voice was exactly the same! My $999 was really worth it! Like breaking a seal, I slapped the Spencer android’s pecs a few more times, letting out a villainous laugh: “What am I doing?” “Of course I’m thoroughly ravaging you!” “Now hurry up and thank your master!” With that, I ripped his shirt open. Online talk is one thing, but in reality, who doesn’t want to urgently bury their face in a male mommy’s embrace and cry? I sucked while constantly nuzzling around. Although I hated how Spencer made me work overtime every day, I craved his face and body! Damn, this feels great. The android seemed to have advanced programming installed, actually starting to push me away like a real person. This made me even more excited. After taking a hard bite of his chest, I started moving to other locations. Directly bit his thin lips. These were realistic too, and soft. Because it felt good, I sucked a bit longer. The android that had been struggling and not letting me touch suddenly froze like someone had hit his pressure point. After a long moment, he also wrapped his arms around my waist and started responding. Although I was already 22 years old, I was still a virgin. Even though my partner wasn’t technically a real person, it really wasn’t bad. Soon, my body started feeling strange. An unbearable sensation began. I separated my lips from their tangle with the Spencer android’s. Then quickly pressed him beneath me. One hand gripped his neck, the other provocatively patted his face. In a tone that brooked no refusal: “Call me master!” “Wendy, what nonsense are you…” Before he could finish, I directly slapped him. That beautiful face instantly showed a bright red mark. “I said, call me master. You trying to rebel?” I don’t know if it was my imagination, but the android’s eyes seemed to clear considerably for a moment. His Adam’s apple also unconsciously bobbed. A few seconds later, a hoarse voice sounded. “Master.” Finally hearing the satisfactory answer, my heart was incredibly pleased. Then I guided his hand downward: “Good dogs get rewards. Master will first tell you master’s unique secret.” After speaking, the android seemed to realize something, his pupils suddenly contracting. And I, watching his shocked expression, felt the seed of mischief in my heart sprouting even more vigorously: “How about that, do you know now?” “Don’t worry, master will reward you thoroughly right away!” With that, I directly swung my long leg over and straddled him.

I’d originally woken up at noon, but after this ordeal, I collapsed back to sleep until evening. When I woke, my first instinct was to curse someone out, but then I was met with the aroma of food. My heart filled with confusion as I walked over on trembling legs. I saw the android in the kitchen, wearing an apron while cooking. That appearance—extremely domestic, yet exceptionally warm. And pleasing to the eye. Just like the married life I’d fantasized about as a child. My originally shitty mood instantly improved. At this moment, Spencer’s android also noticed me. His cheeks seemed to have a faint blush compared to before: “You’re awake?” “Then come eat dinner.” “Oh.” I responded and walked toward the table. Amazed once again. Worth it! This $999 was totally worth it! Not only could he do laundry and cook, he even massaged my waist before I went to sleep. Total male housekeeper. Not to mention he had Spencer’s incredibly handsome face. So while he was massaging, I started getting distracted again. Couldn’t help wanting another taste. Just as I pounced, I accidentally knocked my teeth on the android’s chin. Rock hard—hurt so bad I yelped. At the same time, with a thud, a phone also fell to the floor. I instinctively felt my pocket and found my beloved phone was still safely there. Then whose was that on the floor? “It looks kind of familiar…” I murmured while picking it up. Took a closer look! Holy shit, isn’t this Spencer’s phone? How did it end up at my place? Just as I was shocked, I suddenly met the android’s dark eyes below. A chilly wind swept up my back. The phone just fell from his body. So he is… “The phone was left by that gentleman last night.” “I forgot to tell master, sorry.” Before I could finish that terrifying speculation, Spencer’s android suddenly spoke. And sat up from the sofa. “That’s good, that’s good.” I’d just breathed a sigh of relief when I suddenly thought of something, my heart rising again: “Wait!” “How did you know someone brought me home last night? Did I unbox you in front of him?” Then wouldn’t he guess the real purpose of me buying the android? A wave of fear washed over me. Fortunately, Spencer’s android’s answer came quickly: “No, you only opened me after that gentleman left.” “It’s just that when the delivery was brought up, it accidentally got bumped, hitting my power switch, so I activated early.” “I only knew that gentleman came because I saw through two holes in the box.” “He didn’t notice me, don’t worry.” I quickly patted my chest: “So that’s what happened. Scared me to death.” “If that Spencer found out, he’d kill me.” Hearing this, the android’s eyes became somewhat deep: “You really don’t like him?” “Ugh, just thinking about him is aggravating.” “Why do you say that?” The android seemed to have his interest piqued. Usually as quiet as Spencer, now asking question after question. I waved my hand dismissively: “Don’t ask things you shouldn’t ask.” But the next second, I saw him lower his eyes, eyelashes trembling slightly. Looking somewhat disappointed: “I didn’t mean to overstep. I’m just a bit curious since that gentleman last night looked exactly like me.” “I know I was custom-made. I suppose I’m his replacement.” The way he said it made me sound like some kind of promiscuous bitch. I couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty. So I went to explain: “Um… you are a replacement, but not in the traditional sense.” Then I told him all about how Spencer exploited me, how he made me work overtime in various ways, my inner complaints, and how I custom-ordered an android that looked like him just to vent my frustration. The android was silent for a long moment, an expression of hidden restraint appearing between his brows. “Then he really was too much to you.” I patted his shoulder in agreement: “Exactly! So how could I possibly like this kind of evil capitalist?” “I bought you purely to vent, to thoroughly bully…” Before I finished speaking, the Spencer android took my hand and placed it on his smooth face: “Mm, I understand. It’s okay, I’m not afraid of pain. You can ravage me to your heart’s content. Vent all your workplace frustrations on me. I can take it.” After speaking, his beautiful eyes lifted, as if hinting: “Just like you vented today.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “396119”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I ran into my husband Ryan’s two childhood friends at a coffee shop—friends he hadn’t seen in years. Just as I was about to say hello, I overheard them talking about Ryan: “Ryan’s finally getting his life back on track. He’s getting married again.” “His ex-wife died shortly after they got married. Such a tragedy.” I froze in shock. I’m alive and well—how could I be dead? And our son is almost three years old. Who is he remarrying? After eavesdropping a bit longer, I learned that Ryan’s bride-to-be was named Vivian Shaw. I quietly noted the wedding venue and date, then slipped away. That weekend, I arrived at the hotel following the address. The venue was bustling with guests everywhere. As I entered, I casually handed my gift to a receptionist. When she asked for my name, I said coldly: “The ex-wife, back from the dead.” The receptionist shot me a sidelong glance. “Why would you say something so unlucky on such a happy occasion?” I ignored her and turned to see an enormous wedding photo displayed at the entrance. The man was my husband. The woman was a complete stranger. This wedding photo clearly cost a fortune. Years ago, I’d suggested we get photos taken there too. He’d said, “Wedding photos are just for show. Spending that much money is completely pointless.” “As long as we love each other and build a good life together, that’s what really matters.” In the end, he chose a photography studio near our house—the cheapest package they had. I spotted several familiar faces—all relatives from Ryan’s side. I never imagined Ryan would be brazen enough to flaunt his affair right in front of his own family. Glancing casually toward the main table, I felt my blood run cold. Sitting at the groom’s family table were Ryan’s parents—my in-laws. Relatives kept coming over to offer congratulations. The two of them were beaming, their smiles never fading. Fragments of conversation drifted over: “Vivian is such a good girl. You can tell she brings good fortune!” My mother-in-law, Zoe’s smile stretched even wider. “Absolutely! Ever since Ryan met her, things have gotten better year after year. Not like that last one—bad luck and short-lived, a total jinx. Ah, but let’s not talk about her on such a happy day…” Her words stabbed into my chest. After all these years of treating them kindly, I never realized they resented me so much behind my back. My father-in-law chimed in, “I was against Ryan marrying her from the start!” Who? Me? “Well, she was the one who pursued Ryan relentlessly, insisting on marrying him. Otherwise, how would she have ever gotten through our door?” “I knew it. Women who cling desperately like that are never quality. You get what you pay for!” Listening to them discuss me like I was some commodity, I wanted to march right over and confront them. But I held myself back. I’d settle this score soon enough. I turned and left the banquet hall. The bride was surrounded by several bridesmaids, preparing to make her entrance. Vivian noticed me coming out of the hall and greeted me with a smile. “You must be one of Ryan’s coworkers!” My emotions roiled inside, but I suppressed the urge to reveal everything and simply hummed in response. One of the bridesmaids grabbed Vivian’s hand, eyeing the gold bracelet on her wrist enviously. “Vivian, you’re so lucky! Ryan is so generous with you. This bracelet must be worth at least $100,000, right?” “He insisted on buying it. He said marriage is a lifelong commitment, so if you’re going to buy something, buy the best.” Vivian touched the bracelet, the corners of her mouth curling up involuntarily. My heart felt like it had been punctured. When Ryan and I got married, I had nothing. I’d suggested buying wedding rings—at least something to mark the occasion. He’d said, “What’s the point of buying that stuff? You can’t eat it or wear it. You’re not that materialistic anyway.” Seeing my obvious disappointment, he’d coaxed me, “When I get a raise later, I’ll make it up to you.” Later, his career flourished and his salary increased year after year. He did keep his promise. Every year when he received his bonus, he’d buy me a gold bar, saying it would be security for me and our son in the future. Wait—where did he get the money to buy Vivian a bracelet? He gives me his entire monthly salary now, and I know exactly what his year-end bonuses are. I was puzzling over this when another bridesmaid said enviously, “I heard your husband’s company is doing really well. He gets hundreds of thousands in profit shares every year. Forget one gold bracelet—Ryan could buy you ten of them.” Profit shares? We’ve been married almost six years, and I had no idea he had company shares. I’ve seen Ryan’s monthly pay stubs. After taxes, $18,000. Every month he gives me $15,000 and keeps $3,000 for entertainment expenses. I never suspected a thing. But apparently, he gets hundreds of thousands in profit shares every year.

Vivian suddenly turned to look at me. “You’re Ryan’s coworker, so you should know how much he makes a year. Tell me quietly so I have an idea—I don’t want him hiding money from me later.” My heart felt like someone was stabbing it repeatedly with a dull knife. How much does he make? Don’t you know better than I do? The lion’s share went to you—a $100,000 gold bracelet. I wouldn’t even dare dream of something like that in this lifetime. I only just found out about those hundreds of thousands in annual profit shares. And you’re turning around to ask me how much he makes a year? The muscles around my lips trembled. I almost lost control of my expression. Vivian probably sensed something was off and tried to ease the awkwardness. “Maybe you don’t know either. That’s okay.” “I’ve met most of Ryan’s coworkers, but this is the first time I’ve seen you. You must be new, right?” I suppressed the churning emotions inside me. “Yeah, I just started recently. I really don’t know Ryan’s exact income.” One of the younger bridesmaids clicked her tongue. “Your husband is so great. Not only is he handsome and successful, but he doesn’t even smoke.” Vivian laughed. “It’s not that he doesn’t smoke—he quit on his own because he wants us to have a honeymoon baby.” I nearly dropped my phone. During the worst two months of morning sickness, I’d throw up at the slightest whiff of cigarette smoke. I’d asked him to quit smoking. He said he couldn’t—he had to entertain clients for work. Three months ago, he suddenly changed. He threw all his cigarettes in the trash. He said I’d always complained about secondhand smoke, so for the health of me and our son, he was quitting for good. I’d been so touched at the time. Turns out he quit for another woman, not for me and our son. Vivian smiled at me a bit sheepishly. “Sorry you had to hear that. These girls love to tease.” My emotions were crashing like storm waves inside me. I blurted out, “You trust Ryan that much? What if he has another family on the side?” Vivian stared at me in shock. “What do you mean by that?” The bridesmaids weren’t having it. “Just because your own husband cheats doesn’t mean you should wish the same on others, right?” I laughed bitterly. “Actually, you guessed right.” Vivian’s gaze held a hint of superiority. “My Ryan isn’t like your husband. He would never betray me.” “Is that so? If this loyal, perfect man of yours is so great, where is he now?” “He went to pick up some college friends who traveled from out of town for the wedding. He’ll be back any minute.” Right on cue, her phone rang. “Honey! Where are you?” The bridesmaids tactfully fell silent, and his voice came through clearly: “Almost there, babe. I’m so excited thinking about marrying you soon.” Vivian’s face flushed red. She chided him playfully, “Just drive carefully. Stay safe.” The bridesmaids nearby heard everything and started teasing: “Oh my god, did you hear that? You’ve known each other for five years, you’re about to share a bed, and you’re still this lovey-dovey.” “Being affectionate is normal, isn’t it? After all, we can only be together half the year anyway.” It felt like someone had clubbed me over the back of the head. My ears rang. They’ve known each other for five years. I don’t know if I was too oblivious or if he hid it too well. No—it wasn’t that he hid it well. I trusted him too much. I trusted him when he said the company was promoting him and he needed to rotate positions, working away from home every other month. I thought he was ambitious then. I didn’t want to hold him back. I shouldered everything alone—childcare, cooking, working—without a single complaint. When our son ran a fever in the middle of the night, I held him alone in the emergency room until dawn. I didn’t dare call Ryan, afraid of disturbing his rest. Turns out, during all that time “stationed away,” he was with another woman.

The bridesmaids were dying of envy and wouldn’t let it go. “Your husband is too perfect! Handsome, successful, doesn’t smoke, affectionate, says sweet things—is there any justice in this world?” “Exactly! Does he have any flaws? Tell us so we can feel better!” Vivian laughed as they shook her. She thought for a moment. “Flaws… I guess he makes me drink soup every day. Says it’s good for health.” “And he gets up early to make it himself. Never gets tired of it.” Everyone groaned. Another devastating blow. Every morning. Ryan never made me breakfast once. Not once in six years. Later, when I was pregnant and my belly was so big I could barely bend over, he said he’d wake up early to cook. He burned several pots of porridge trying. No matter how much I taught him, he never got the hang of it. I’d always thought he was just naturally bad at cooking. Turns out it wasn’t about skill. It was about the person. I stood there, my heart growing colder by the second. The bridesmaids insisted Vivian was just showing off and demanded she share a real flaw—no more disguised bragging allowed. Vivian bit her lip, and suddenly her expression turned serious. “There actually is something. Please don’t ever mention it in front of him.” “Ryan was married before.” “His ex-wife and son… they died in a car accident a couple years ago. It hit him really hard. Even now, he can’t handle talking about it.” In an instant, blood rushed to my head. My knuckles cracked as I clenched my fists. In his script, he not only killed me off—he erased our son too. Our son, smart and adorable, who just yesterday climbed on him saying “I love you, Daddy.” To make room for his new marriage, he obliterated his own flesh and blood. He was cold and selfish beyond measure. If I didn’t expose his true face, I’d be failing both myself and our son. I was about to step forward when my phone rang. It was Zoe. Everyone looked at me. I walked some distance away before answering. “Claire, I need you to transfer $100,000 to me right now. It’s urgent.” “What’s so urgent that you need $100,000?” “Didn’t I tell you? Your father and I are helping organize a wedding. The bride wants me to be her godmother, so I need to give her a big gift. Hurry up and transfer it. People are waiting.” They were calculating against me to the bitter end. The whole family was hiding this from me, finding Ryan a new wife—and now they wanted to use my money to curry favor with her? I bit back my anger and shot back, “Mom, is she going to take care of you in your old age?” Zoe’s voice turned cold. “What are you talking about! I’m hosting a wedding here. Why are you bringing up old age?” “You want to be her godmother, that’s your business. Why are you asking me for money?” There was silence on the other end. A few seconds later, Zoe exploded, her words dripping with venom: “Listen to yourself! You usually act so understanding, but the moment money comes up, your true colors show! Let me tell you—this is my son’s money, and I can spend it however I want!” There’s a limit to bullying. I didn’t back down: “Don’t forget, I work too. My salary isn’t lower than your son’s. When did my money become his?” Zoe snorted coldly. “Fine. You’re so capable.” Then she hung up with a sharp click. I straightened my clothes and turned back, just in time to hear Vivian say, “Zoe said she’s giving me five gold bars as a wedding gift.” My heart sank. Five gold bars—those were exactly what Ryan had given me over the years. The number matched perfectly. The bridesmaids were still laughing and chatting. My heart turned to ice. Laugh now. The harder you laugh now, the harder you’ll cry later. Footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway. Ryan appeared, surrounded by several people. Music started playing in the banquet hall. Under everyone’s gaze, Vivian slowly walked toward the stage. Ryan stood there, back straight, a smile on his lips as he waited for his second bride. When Vivian was halfway there, I stepped onto the center of the stage first, raising the microphone with an icy voice. “Ryan, how could you not tell me about something as important as your wedding?” The banquet hall instantly fell silent. The lively atmosphere seemed to freeze as if someone had hit pause. After a brief, dead silence, voices erupted like a tidal wave. “What’s going on?” “Who’s that woman on stage?” “Didn’t they say Ryan’s ex-wife was dead…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “396120”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My boyfriend is David, the Alpha of Moonridge Pack. During the New Moon Festival, he told me not to come to the pack banquet. His reason? “You’re just a bartender. You’ve been at the bar so long, you reek of alcohol. My mom can’t stand it.” I had already requested time off and booked my flight, planning to take a solo trip to clear my head. Instead, he brought Grace to the pack banquet. Grace is the sister of Pine Valley Pack’s Alpha. Standing next to David, she looked like she belonged there. Photos from Moonridge Pack’s New Moon Festival banquet hit social media that very night. Someone tagged me in the comments: “Mia, did you see this?” I saw it. I canceled my flight, changed my destination, and booked a private jet instead. The night David came back, I was packing my things. He stood in the doorway, looking unusually guilty. “Where are you going?” “Home.” “Your home is right here—” “No, it’s not.” I zipped up my suitcase and walked past him without stopping. He didn’t know that my father is the Alpha King—and also his pack’s biggest creditor.

“Mia, how long are you going to play this hard-to-get game?” David kicked my suitcase over, his eyes full of impatience. “Canceling your flight and changing your destination—you think switching up your travel plans will make me bow down to you?” I stopped and looked at his self-righteous face. “I told you, I’m going home.” “Your home is right here.” “No, it’s not.” I looked at him. “Let go.” He hadn’t expected me to look at him this way. No more of my usual resignation. No hysterical accusations. Just cold indifference, like I was looking at garbage. He seemed momentarily flustered, but his Alpha pride quickly covered it up. He sneered and yanked my passport out of my bag. “You’re an orphan. Besides here, what home could you possibly go back to?” I stared at my empty palm. I didn’t scream or try to grab it back. “Give me my passport.” “When you learn to be reasonable, I’ll give it to you naturally.” He casually tossed the passport into the top drawer of the entryway cabinet and deliberately locked it. “I brought Grace to the pack banquet today because her brother can help Moonridge Pack secure the northern hunting territory.” “You’re just a bartender who mixes drinks all day. Besides making cocktails, what can you do for me?” “I’m just playing along for the pack’s future. My feelings for you haven’t changed at all. Why do you have to make a scene at a time like this?” I looked at the man I’d loved for seven years and suddenly found his face utterly repulsive. Playing along? So you brought another woman before your pack members and let her act like the future Luna? “David, do you think I have no temper? That you can trample on me however you like?” David frowned, as if he found me unreasonable. “That alcohol smell on you gives my mom a headache. I told you not to come to protect you from being wronged.” Just then, the doorbell rang. Grace stood outside in a haute couture dress, smiling brightly. “David, is Mia mad at me?” She walked in and naturally linked her arm through David’s. “I just thought this apartment’s terrace had a great view and wanted to borrow it for a birthday party. Why is Mia threatening to run away from home?” I watched them coldly. This downtown penthouse—I had bought it outright with my own pocket money back then. David’s name wasn’t even on the deed. Every piece of furniture, every plant inside—I had arranged them all myself. Now, without even asking me, he had directly agreed to lend my house to his mistress for a party? At this moment, the live comments scrolled across my vision: [This guy is unbelievable—using his girlfriend’s house for his mistress’s party?] [And he complains about a bartender smelling bad, but his heart stinks worse.] [Mia, stop holding back. Just crush him with money. The Alpha King’s daughter shouldn’t take this abuse.] “She’s just petty and hasn’t seen the world.” David patted Grace’s hand, his tone gentle. “It’s just an apartment. You’re the pack’s honored guest. Use it however you want.” He turned to look at me, his gaze instantly turning cold. “Mia, Grace’s brother is an Alpha, backed by the powerful Pine Valley Pack. She’s doing you a favor by using your house.” “Be generous. Don’t make me think you’re unreasonable.” I stared at their intertwined arms. “Fine. Lend her the house.” My tone was calm. David paused, seemingly surprised by my compliance. “At least you know what’s good for you.” “But if anything gets damaged, she pays for it.” I stared hard at Grace. Grace covered her mouth and laughed. “Mia, you’re so funny. These little things? I couldn’t care less about them.” “Good.” I turned to grab my spare bag, preparing to leave. “What are you doing now?” David strode over and blocked my path. “Since you’re borrowing the house for the party, I’ll be an eyesore staying here. I’m going to a hotel.” “Mia, I’m warning you. Enough is enough.” He lowered his voice, his tone condescending. “I pushed back a pack meeting tonight to come home and keep you company. Don’t be ungrateful.” I walked around him, heading straight for the door. “If you walk out that door today, you’ll never set foot in Moonridge Pack territory again.” “Perfect.”

“You really think I can’t live without you?” David’s voice rang out behind me, filled with the anger of someone whose pride had been wounded. I didn’t look back. I pulled the door open. Just then, a stray dog covered in mud suddenly bolted in from the hallway and lunged straight at David. Mud splattered all over his designer suit pants. I stopped, waiting to see him explode in rage. David had extremely severe germophobia. In the past, when I came home from the bar, even if I changed out of my clothes at the door, showered three times, and put on completely fresh clothes—if he thought I still had even a faint trace of alcohol smell, he’d frown and tell me to stay away from him. Once, during the bar’s anniversary celebration, I got beer splashed all over me. When I got home and just wanted a hug, he shoved me away and spent two hours washing his hands in disgust. But now, looking at the mud on his pants, his brow only furrowed for a second. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, David! I just picked up this puppy downstairs—it’s so naughty.” Grace quickly crouched down and pulled out tissues to wipe it off. David actually smiled. Not only did he not get angry, he reached out and petted the filthy dog’s head. “It’s fine. Grace being caring is a good thing. It’s just a suit.” He even proactively held Grace’s hand as she wiped, their eyes locked. I stood in the doorway, watching this heartwarming “family of three” interaction, and suddenly felt intensely nauseated. So he never had any damn germophobia at all. He simply found me disgusting, detestable. He looked down on my profession and identity from the bottom of his heart. At this moment, the live comments scrolled across my vision: [Double standards. The germophobia was fake—not loving her is what’s real.] [Look how naturally he pets that dog. Disgusting.] [Mia’s expression is so cold. She’s completely given up on him.] “Mia, you don’t mind me keeping the puppy here, do you?” Grace hugged the dog, looking innocently at me. “Whatever.” I pulled my suitcase toward the exit, but David grabbed my wrist. “There’s a limit to throwing tantrums. Stay for dinner.” Without allowing any argument, he dragged me back to the dining room and pressed me into a chair. The table was covered with takeout from an upscale restaurant—all seafood, Grace’s favorites. David put on disposable gloves and skillfully began peeling shrimp. He placed the peeled shrimp meat in Grace’s bowl, his tone doting. “Your hands are too delicate. Don’t let the shells cut you.” I quietly watched his smooth movements. Even though werewolves had exceptional healing abilities, he couldn’t bear to let Grace get even a scratch from a shrimp shell. But two years ago, when a drunk werewolf caused trouble at the bar and I accidentally got cut on my right hand during the altercation—requiring three stitches—I asked him to peel a shrimp for me that night at dinner. He slammed his fork down, his face full of impatience. “You’re a bartender and you can’t even peel a shrimp shell properly?” “Mia, can you stop being so dramatic?” Now, he was willingly peeling an entire plate of shrimp for another woman. So our love really couldn’t triumph over fated mates? Years ago, when I fell in love with David, I abandoned my own fated mate to be with him. David had also said that even if he met his fated mate later, he would reject her outright, because his heart belonged only to me. His fated mate never appeared after that, and I thought we could continue living happily together in peaceful simplicity. But after all these years, his fated mate Grace appeared, and he showed her all his tenderness—sides of himself I had never seen. Grace’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Mia, why aren’t you eating?” Grace ate her shrimp, smiling at me. “Is the food not to your taste? I guess spending so much time in bars makes it hard to have an appetite, right?” David didn’t even look up, continuing to crack open crab. “That’s just her lifeless expression. Don’t worry about her.” I put down my fork and stood up. “Have you seen enough?” David glanced at me coldly. “If you’re done watching, clear the table.”

“David gave me this necklace. You don’t mind, do you, Mia?” Grace deliberately swept back her long hair, revealing an antique emerald necklace around her neck. I had just thrown the takeout containers in the trash. When I turned and saw that necklace, blood rushed to my head. That was an heirloom of the Alpha King’s family—a relic my mother left me before she died. I had always kept it locked in my bedroom safe, rarely wearing it even myself. “Take it off.” I walked up to Grace, my tone icy. “Mia, why are you being so mean?” Grace hid behind David, frightened. “David said this necklace would just gather dust in the safe. Better to have it look beautiful on my neck.” David protected Grace, frowning at me. “Mia, enough. You’re just jealous of Grace. You’re fighting over a worthless necklace?” “I’ll buy you ten tomorrow. Pick whichever you want.” Looking at his self-righteous face, I suddenly felt the past seven years had been one absurd joke. “David, that’s my mother’s relic.” “What right do you have to touch my safe?” David’s eyes flickered, but he quickly resumed his superior attitude. “Your things are my things. Why are we drawing such clear lines between us?” “Besides, Grace is accompanying me to Moonridge Pack’s banquet tonight. She needs a statement piece of jewelry.” “You’re a behind-the-scenes bartender who never shows her face. Wearing something like this would be wasted on you.” At this moment, the live comments scrolled across my vision: [Giving someone’s mother’s relic to his mistress? Is this guy brain damaged?] [This makes me so angry. That’s theft—call the police and arrest him.] [Mia is too calm. This is the calm before the storm. Can’t wait for Chapter 4 to slap him in the face.] “I’ll say this one last time. Take it off.” I stepped forward and reached directly for the necklace clasp. David shoved me away, the force making me crash into the corner of the dining table. Sharp pain shot through my lower back. “Mia, don’t push your luck.” David looked down at me, his eyes full of disgust. “Grace wearing your things is doing you a favor.” “If you keep being unreasonable, even I won’t want you anymore.” Grace hid behind him, a triumphant smile on her lips. “David, forget it. Maybe Mia really can’t bear to part with it. I’ll just give it back to her.” She made a show of reaching to unclasp the necklace. David pressed down on her hand. “Keep wearing it. I’d like to see who dares touch it today.” He stared coldly at me. “Mia, I don’t have time for your nonsense tonight. Stay home and reflect. When you’re ready to apologize, then call me.” With that, he pulled Grace and walked straight out the door. The door slammed shut. I held onto the table and slowly straightened up. The pain in my lower back made me even more clear-headed. I didn’t cry. I didn’t throw things. I walked into the bedroom and opened the safe that had been forcibly pried open. Inside, besides that necklace, there was a debt settlement document for Moonridge Pack. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in seven years. “Liam, I need you to do something for me.” Liam was my father the Alpha King’s Beta—and also my fated mate. Years ago, for so-called “true love” with David, I hid my identity, had a huge fight with my family, and even ran away from my arranged marriage to come here and work as a bartender. Liam had been searching for me for seven years. Waiting for me for seven years. “Mia, you’ve finally contacted me. The Alpha King has been thinking about you all these years…” Liam’s voice trembled slightly, which was rare for him. “Save the reminiscing for later.” I cut him off coldly, my eyes sharp as knives. “I need you to do something for me.” “Cut off all working capital to Moonridge Pack. Stop supplying resources to Moonridge Pack. Immediately.” Silence on the other end of the line for a second, then Liam’s low, pleased laughter came through. “As you wish, Mia.” “I’ll personally fly over with my team tomorrow. I guarantee that within forty-eight hours, David will be kneeling at your feet.” I hung up and looked at myself in the mirror—someone who had compromised for love for seven years. David, you asked for this.

The next evening at eight o’clock, Moonridge Pack held its celebration banquet. “Remove Mia’s name from tonight’s VIP guest list.” David stood at the hotel entrance, giving cold instructions to his assistant. I stood in the shadows not far away, hearing every word clearly. “But Alpha David, Mia comes every year to help verify the arrangements…” The assistant hesitated. “I don’t need her tonight.” David impatiently cut him off. “Grace will be attending as my date. If Mia’s there, it’ll only make Grace uncomfortable.” “Tell security—if they see her, keep her outside.” I watched him turn and walk into the opulent hall, not even feeling the desire to confront him one last time. Afraid of making his mistress uncomfortable, so he had to keep his actual girlfriend outside? “Tell David,” I looked into the assistant’s eyes and said word by word. “He will pay a price he cannot afford for today’s decision.” With that, I didn’t linger at all. I turned on my heels and walked away from the hotel without looking back. The big screen began scrolling through footage from inside the banquet. David held Grace’s hand and walked into the spotlight. “Thank you all for coming. I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce the lady beside me.” He looked at Grace, his eyes tender. “Miss Grace will be the future Luna of Moonridge Pack.” Thunderous applause erupted below. I stood in the cold wind, watching the perfect couple on the screen, finally severing my last shred of attachment. I turned and walked toward a black Bentley parked by the roadside. Liam opened the car door and respectfully handed me a document. “Mia, the private jet is ready. We can leave whenever you’re ready.” “Let’s go. To the airport.” Halfway through the banquet, David suddenly felt intense anxiety. He habitually looked toward the corner but didn’t see that familiar figure. “Mia didn’t come?” He grabbed the assistant. “Alpha David, didn’t you order us not to let her in? Security said she left half an hour ago.” “Where did she go?” “It seems… to the private airport.” David’s heart sank heavily. Mia, someone who lived on a bartender’s salary and found even taxis too expensive—where would she get the money for a Bentley? He suddenly remembered that last night I said I had canceled my flight and changed destinations to go clear my head. That resolute look in my eyes when I said “perfect” flashed through his mind again. Was she really going to leave him completely? He pushed past Grace, who was making toasts, and rushed out of the hotel like a madman. At this moment, the live comments scrolled across my vision: [It’s finally coming—the private jet!] [David, run faster. Are you rushing to be reborn?] [The earlier parts were so frustrating. Finally going to feel satisfied. Can’t wait for the Alpha to grovel.] The cold wind howled. David ran to the private airport, gasping for breath as he searched everywhere for me. “Mia!” Just then, I stood on the boarding stairs of a private jet bearing the Alpha King’s insignia, looking down at him. David froze in place, his face full of disbelief. Standing next to me was an imposing middle-aged man. That was my father, the Alpha King. “David, Moonridge Pack still owes my family a debt that hasn’t been repaid.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “396118”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Because I went to the hospital a few times, I was collectively reported to the school board by the parents of my students. “Junior year is the most critical time! As the homeroom teacher, you need to be on call 24/7. Would it kill you to not go to the hospital?” “Even if it’s the weekend, what if we have an emergency and can’t reach you? If you don’t even have that basic level of dedication, why be a homeroom teacher?” “At the end of the day, he’s just selfish. People like him don’t deserve to be teachers!” I was both furious and stunned. For the past two years, I had poured my blood, sweat, and tears into a class that ranked dead last, dragging them all the way to number one in the district. I worked myself to the point of chronic illness, yet I didn’t dare take a single sick day because I was terrified it would negatively affect the students. And in the end, I was accused of being selfish? When my students found out I was being reported, they just looked at me with cold indifference. It had nothing to do with them. My heart completely froze. Fine. Whoever wants this homeroom teacher job can have it. A few months later, that same group of parents was standing on my front porch: “Mr. Evans, please, we’re begging you. Please come back.” 01 I got reported. The parents of my entire class signed a joint petition accusing me of “dereliction of duty,” demanding the school immediately strip me of my homeroom teacher title and my position as the AP Calculus instructor. When the principal broke the news to me, I felt like I had been struck by lightning. Ever since I took over this class, I had broken my back for them. I worked myself to the bone, always putting the students first. I practically handed them my beating heart on a silver platter. And these parents had the audacity to call me irresponsible?! “The parents in your class are extremely aggressive about this. They said if the school doesn’t meet their demands, they will escalate the complaint directly to the State Department of Education,” the principal said. My face looked terrible. The principal spoke sternly: “Mr. Evans, what you need to do right now is take a good, hard look in the mirror and reflect on your actions. If you were truly doing a flawless job, why would the parents collectively report you?” This was absolutely insane! How was this suddenly my fault? I opened my mouth to defend myself, but the principal waved me off impatiently. “Enough. Go home and wait for the administration’s decision.” Walking out of the principal’s office, my frustration boiled over. Finally, unable to hold it in, I typed a message into the class Parent-Teacher Group Chat. “Parents, since taking on the role of homeroom teacher, I have always put the well-being and academic success of this class first. I won’t claim to be perfect, but I have worked tirelessly. If you feel there are areas where I am lacking, you are always welcome to communicate with me directly. Baseless misunderstandings and accusations only serve to break the hearts of dedicated educators.” A few minutes later, a message popped up. Jacob’s Mom: “Misunderstandings? You think we’re falsely accusing you? A homeroom teacher who runs off to the hospital every other day—do you think that’s appropriate? Who gave you the right? Who gave you that kind of freedom? How are you supposed to focus your energy on the students like that? The final semester of junior year is the most critical time. Would it kill you to not go to the hospital?” That rapid-fire barrage of ruthless accusations left me completely stunned. 02 Two years of insanely high-stress, non-stop work had caused severe damage to my cervical and lumbar spine. Every night, the pain was so agonizing I couldn’t sleep. My doctor strongly advised me to take a prolonged medical leave of absence. But because it was their junior year, I was terrified that bringing in a new homeroom teacher would disrupt the students’ momentum. So, I compromised. I squeezed in time on the weekends to go to the hospital for conservative physical therapy. I told myself I could hold off on taking a real medical leave until after the students graduated. I never in a million years imagined that the parents would report me for this exact reason. I forced myself to reply patiently: “Jacob’s mom, teachers are human too. Getting sick is inevitable. Furthermore, I only go to the hospital on weekends during my personal time. It has never interfered with my responsibilities to the class.” I didn’t expect her next response to be even more unhinged. “Oh, please! ‘Personal time’? You don’t get personal time! You are a teacher, you are a homeroom teacher! You are supposed to be on call 24 hours a day!” Other parents started chiming in, backing her up. Chloe’s Dad: “I agree with Jacob’s mom. If you want to be the homeroom teacher, you need to have the dedication for it. If you can’t handle it, why did you take the job?” Mia’s Dad: “Last semester when you got married, you took three days off in a row. I thought it was completely inappropriate even back then.” Ethan’s Mom: “The only reason we agreed to let you be the homeroom teacher was because you were highly experienced. If we knew you were going to have so much drama and take so much time off, we would have just asked for a younger, newer teacher from the start!” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Parents, my health has indeed taken a hit, but I have never allowed it to delay or negatively impact anything related to this class. For the past two years, no matter how exhausted or in pain I was, I pushed through for the sake of these students. If I really just wanted an easy life, I could have voluntarily stepped down from the homeroom position a long time ago.” Jacob’s Mom fired back: “Cut the crap! You make it sound so noble, but everyone knows it’s all about the money. Everyone knows homeroom teachers get paid a higher stipend than regular teachers.” 03 My blood pressure instantly skyrocketed. In that moment, I genuinely wanted to curse them out. Yes, homeroom teachers do get a slightly higher stipend than regular subject teachers. An extra $15 a semester. Can you believe that? We wake up before the sun and go to sleep long after midnight. We spend seventeen or eighteen hours a day at the school. We have endless administrative meetings, never-ending classroom management duties, piles of paperwork, constant parent feedback to reply to, and weekends consumed by grading and progress reports. Our phones have to be on 24/7 to handle whatever random emergency pops up. If you add it all up, the workload of a homeroom teacher is easily ten times that of a regular subject teacher. Did she really think I was working myself into an early grave for an extra $15?! Did she think I was that desperate? The attacks in the group chat kept coming. “Homeroom teachers don’t just get a higher stipend, they get priority for ‘Teacher of the Year’ awards and promotions. There are plenty of perks!” “No wonder he refuses to step down even when he’s sick… Lol. Honestly, I’m speechless.” “Damn it, if you want to chase a paycheck, fine, but don’t hold our kids back! Do we owe you something?” “Hurry up and resign!” I was so furious I couldn’t even type. If I was just chasing a paycheck, I would have left a long time ago. The elite private prep school in the next district had offered to double my salary to poach me, and I politely declined. Why did I stay? For the students! For their precious little darlings! Ms. Roberts, the English teacher, couldn’t sit back and watch anymore. Ms. Roberts: “Mr. Evans has been working through severe illness out of pure dedication to his students. Instead of showing him a shred of empathy, how can you say such horrible things to him? Do the students’ test scores not prove his dedication?” During my two years leading this class, they had gone from ranking dead last in the district to number one. That was an undeniable fact. The chat went silent for a brief moment. Then, one parent suddenly typed: “That’s because the kids worked hard themselves. It wouldn’t have mattered which teacher they had. It has absolutely nothing to do with him.” Immediately, a wave of agreement flooded the chat. “Exactly! My son studies until midnight every single night. Of course his grades are good when he works that hard!” “The stack of practice workbooks my daughter has completed is almost as tall as she is!” “He really knows how to take credit for other people’s hard work, doesn’t he?” 04 My neck throbbed with a sharp, shooting pain from the stress. The students did work hard, yes. But that was a study habit I forced them to build. To be brutally honest, Class 6 had a terrible foundation, weak fundamentals, and absolutely zero academic drive. If they had been assigned a teacher with even slightly less dedication or capability, they never would have moved an inch. Over the past two years, I pulled countless all-nighters designing personalized, individualized lesson plans for every single student in my class. I sacrificed my daily lunch breaks to provide one-on-one tutoring, usually surviving on a granola bar and a bottle of water. I spent my weekends and holidays offering free, extra tutoring sessions at my house. I spent my own money buying them supplementary study materials and reward prizes. I can say with absolute certainty that I poured more of my heart into my job than any other teacher at this school. And now, this group of parents was saying the students’ success had absolutely nothing to do with me. Nothing to do with me! Furious, I typed: “Since you all believe the students’ grades are entirely the result of their own efforts, then what impact does it have on them if I spend my off-the-clock time dealing with my own personal health issues?” The parents immediately started firing back. “Excuse me? Are test scores the only thing that matters? Let me ask you this: What if my kid doesn’t get enough to eat at lunch? What if they forget to drink water? What if they don’t wear a warm enough jacket and catch a cold? What if they feel sick?” “The kids are already exhausted from studying. The homeroom teacher should be the one taking care of all the janitorial and classroom cleaning duties.” “Late-night study hall ends too late anyway. If you ask me, the homeroom teacher should be responsible for driving the students safely back to their houses.” Ms. Roberts sent me a private text. “These parents have completely lost their minds, haven’t they? Do they think a homeroom teacher is a glorified babysitter?” Watching the messages rapidly scrolling up the screen, my temples throbbed violently. I took a deep breath. Using every last ounce of patience I had, I typed a sincere response: “Parents, we are less than six months away from college entrance exams. I beg you to trust me. Give me this chance, and I promise I will do everything in my power to fulfill my duties as their homeroom teacher until the very end.” Jacob’s mom’s response instantly shattered my final breaking point. “Wow, you really have no shame. Let me guess, you just want to stay so you can take revenge and sabotage our kids’ grades behind our backs, right?!” Jacob’s mom’s response instantly shattered my final breaking point. Fine. Fine. I’m done. I quit. 05 I had spent months developing a comprehensive, individualized Phase 2 and Phase 3 review plan for the entire class. Forty-five distinct, custom-tailored study schedules. Even though I wouldn’t be their homeroom teacher anymore, I still wanted to fulfill my final responsibility and give them this last gift before I left. During the afternoon study hall, I walked into the classroom. The room immediately erupted into groans and complaints. “Damn, why is that packet so thick?” “Every time I open my eyes, it’s just study, study, study. I’m so exhausted, I literally want to throw up.” “He’s taking up our free study period again…” These little brats. So what if you’re tired? What high school junior preparing for college isn’t tired? I was just about to speak when Jacob suddenly asked loudly, “Mr. Evans, if we all get into top-tier universities, do you get a massive cash bonus or something? Like tens of thousands of dollars?” I didn’t process the question immediately. “What?” “Otherwise, why would you work us like dogs every single day? It obviously benefits you somehow. But since you aren’t going to be teaching us anymore anyway, you probably shouldn’t waste your energy.” My face instantly fell. Jacob was the class loudmouth. If he knew something, the entire class definitely knew it too. I looked out at the classroom. Every single face was either annoyed or completely indifferent. Which meant, knowing that they were the reason I was reported, and knowing that the homeroom teacher who had carried them for two years was leaving… not a single one of them showed a shred of sadness or reluctance to see me go. Even more devastating was the realization that my students genuinely believed I was pushing them to succeed for my own selfish gain! In that moment, I didn’t even know how to describe the crushing weight in my chest. I said coldly, “I see. Then you can continue with your free study period.” The exact second I walked out the door, the classroom erupted in cheers. “WOOOO! The Grim Reaper is gone!” “Does this mean we’re finally free?!” “We finally don’t have to be forced to do all those extra packets! Holy shit, do you guys know I literally have nightmares about him?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “442372”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I tried to enroll my daughter in our newly purchased $500,000 top-tier school district home, I discovered the address’s school enrollment spot was already taken. And inexplicably, my property deed now listed a seven-year-old boy as a resident. I furiously tracked down the boy’s parents, only for the father to brush me off: “My son’s already been going there for a year. Deal with it. At most, I’ll toss you two grand.” I was losing my mind. While preparing to sue, I used my status as his new legal guardian to transfer his school enrollment to a rundown school in a mountain town a thousand miles away. This time, they were the ones losing their minds. I stood my ground: “He’s registered at my address, which makes him my son. What happens to my son is none of your damn business!” 01 My daughter’s school application was rejected. The reason? The address’s enrollment spot had already been claimed and couldn’t be used again. How was this possible?! It’s my house; wouldn’t I know if the spot was used? I rushed to the elite local elementary school with my deed and demanded to see the enrollment records. The moment I heard the result, it felt like a slap in the face. The records showed the spot had indeed been used last year. Someone had been using my house’s spot to attend school for a whole year. And I had absolutely no idea! I was going crazy. My wife and I, with help from both our parents, had saved for years just to afford the down payment on this $500,000 house in a prime school district. All to give our daughter the best education possible. And now you’re telling me the spot is gone? These enrollment spots only reset every six years. We’d have to wait five more years to use it again. What about my daughter? I demanded the school immediately provide the other parents’ information. But they refused, citing student privacy. “I’m sorry, we can’t give you the parents’ information directly, but we can try contacting them for you.” I swallowed my anger. I told myself to stay calm. A short while later, the school official told me the other party refused to speak with me. “The parent claims their child used their own spot and has no obligation to explain anything to anyone.” My temples throbbed. My face was dark with fury. It was a teacher who finally reminded me that if the house was mine, only my child could use the spot. It took my brain a second to catch up. I immediately drove to the local county clerk’s office. When the clerk pulled up my property records, I froze. There was indeed an extra person registered at my address! 02 It was a seven-year-old boy named Leo Miller. I completely lost it. I demanded to know what the hell was going on. “The system shows Leo Miller was registered at your address last July.” “How is this possible?!” I yelled. “Why is a stranger suddenly registered at my house?” The clerk stammered, “It might just be a clerical error.” “An error? Do you have any idea how much damage this ‘error’ has caused us?!” I was so loud that everyone in the office turned to look. I forced myself to calm down. “I demand you remove this Leo Miller from my address immediately!” “Since it involves a minor, we need a consent form from the new legal guardian.” That made me even angrier. So someone can register their kid at my address without me knowing, but I have no right to remove them unilaterally? The clerk’s office was right next to the police station. I immediately filed a report. I provided all my evidence and stated that the registry change was absolutely not an internal family matter. The police told me to wait while they contacted the family listed on Leo’s original records. Those few minutes felt like years. Eventually, the police told me that Leo’s parents were out of town and we’d have to wait for them to return for questioning. Impossible. They were clearly dodging me! The school enrollment window was closing soon; I couldn’t afford to wait. My anger reached its boiling point. Leaving the station, I called a friend in the education consulting business. I refused to believe this. I have the kid’s name and school; how hard could it be to find his parents? 03 My friend suggested I contact a lawyer first, while he tracked them down. I rushed to a law firm. But after the consultation, my heart sank. The lawyer told me this kind of enrollment fraud wasn’t isolated. Even if I proved they wrongfully used the spot, the compensation I’d get would likely be far less than my actual losses. “A lawsuit takes a long time. I suggest you find another school for your daughter right now, just so she has a place to go.” I was silent. My wife had taken a much harder job just to help with the mortgage. My daughter was so excited, proudly telling everyone she was going to be a first-grader. Our four elderly parents had emptied their savings to help us. How was I supposed to tell them? I was burning with anger but had nowhere to vent it. But regardless of how terrible I felt, I had to act fast. I called my wife. “Honey, I have some bad news. Brace yourself.” Her tone turned serious: “What is it? Don’t scare me.” I explained the situation briefly. Like me, she was furious and panicked: “How could this happen? That’s our spot! They have no right!” “The priority is getting Lily into a school. I’ve already gone to the police and a lawyer. Whoever stole our spot, I won’t let them get away with it!” 04 My wife and I frantically contacted the public schools in our zoned area. But the news plunged us further into despair. Their enrollment was already full. Even the schools we wouldn’t have considered before had closed enrollment. My wife cried, “What are we going to do about Lily’s schooling?” I was silent for a long time. “There’s one other way.” “We wait a year.” And during that time, we fight the lawsuit or use other means to force them to return the spot. But the lawyer had warned that litigation is exhausting and the outcome is rarely satisfactory. If we lost, my daughter wouldn’t just miss out on the elite school; she’d waste a whole year. A massive wave of helplessness washed over me. Then, my friend called. He’d found the address and names of Leo’s parents. I jumped up excitedly: “Who is it?” “The dad’s name is Greg Miller. They live in the Rainbow Apartments, Building 5, Apartment 301.” Rainbow Apartments… that’s right near my house! Perfect. I wanted to see exactly what kind of scum could do something so shameless. Holding my breath, I rushed to Rainbow Apartments. I knocked for a long time before a mean-looking woman with curly hair opened the door. “Who is it?! Knock, knock, knock! Do you know what time it is?!” I kept my temper in check: “Are you Leo Miller’s parent?” “Who are you? What do you want?” I couldn’t help but raise my voice: “Your kid is using my house’s school enrollment spot! What do you think I want?!” The curly-haired woman’s face changed. The next second, she slammed the door in my face. 05 I was so angry I nearly fell backward. I kicked the door hard. “Get out here! Don’t think you can hide from this! Screw you! Aren’t you afraid of karma for doing something like this?!” My yelling alerted the other tenants on the third floor, who peeked out to watch the drama. I didn’t care anymore. In ten minutes, I swore more than I had in my entire thirty-plus years of life. The door to 301 finally opened again. This time, it was a heavy-set man with a face full of flab. The moment he stepped out, he yelled at the nosy neighbors: “What are you looking at?! Keep staring, and I’ll end you!” The neighbors seemed afraid of him. They all obediently shut their doors. I narrowed my eyes: “You’re Greg Miller, right? Have you no shame? How can you sleep at night stealing someone else’s spot?” Compared to my agitation, Greg was surprisingly calm. “I paid someone to get my son into that school. I don’t know how they did it, and I don’t care. Take your complaints somewhere else.” I swore again: “Bullshit! Your son is registered at my address, and you dare claim you didn’t know?” A fleeting look of guilt crossed Greg’s face. “So what do you want?” “Remove your son from my address! Return the spot immediately!” He flatly refused: “Impossible. My son needs an education.” I wanted to punch him. Your son needs an education, but my daughter doesn’t?! Just then, a chubby kid appeared behind Greg, looking exactly like him. This must be Leo. Leo pointed a realistic-looking toy gun at me. “Daddy, I’ll help you shoot the bad guy!” A sharp pain hit the corner of my right eye. Seeing me cover my eye, Leo cheered: “Oh, oh, oh! Gotcha! You’re dead!” 06 I was furious and terrified. A fraction of an inch closer, and that plastic pellet would have blinded me. This wasn’t a joke! But instead of stopping this dangerous behavior, Greg gave him a thumbs-up. “That’s my boy! Good job!” I was so angry I moved to discipline the little brat myself. His wife rushed out and shielded him. Greg pointed a finger in my face: “What do you think you’re doing?! Don’t you dare touch my son!” I was shaking with rage. If murder weren’t a crime, I might have killed him right then and there. Seeing I was on the brink of exploding, Greg suddenly softened his tone: “Look, man, to be honest, my kid has been there for a year already. Compulsory education laws mean they can’t just kick him out. You being upset won’t change anything. Tell you what, I’ll pay you some money, and we call it even. How about two grand? That’s a lot of cash.” Two grand. The audacity. “In your dreams!” Greg’s face darkened: “What, were you expecting twenty grand?” His wife spat at me: “Dressed all nice, but you’re just a filthy extortionist!” I had anticipated various reactions before coming here, but never this level of victim-blaming. Accusing me of extortion? I said, “I’ve already called the cops and a lawyer.” “Do whatever you want! My son is registered at your address, so using the spot is perfectly legal! Even God can’t help you!” “Enough, honey. Don’t waste your breath on him. We’ve been too nice.” The family slammed the door shut. It took me a while to calm down and avoid passing out from anger. Dealing with shameless scumbags like this, legal weapons clearly weren’t enough. It was true; Leo couldn’t be expelled. But the law doesn’t say he can’t be transferred. Early the next morning, I went to the clerk’s office and got a new copy of my property records. Looking at it differently, I was now Leo’s legal guardian. Is it too much for a guardian to send his unruly kid to a rundown mountain town to experience some hardship? 07 I quickly found someone to help me contact new schools. My only requirement: the farther, the better. I finally settled on a school across four states, over a thousand miles away, nestled deep in the mountains. Transportation was incredibly inconvenient. The conditions were exceptionally harsh. The school official was very surprised when I called to transfer a kid from the city. He asked me repeatedly if I was sure. “You need to think this through. Our policies are unique here. Once a student is transferred in, transferring them out is very difficult.” Wasn’t that exactly what I wanted? “Transfer him!” I said firmly. To facilitate the out-of-state transfer, I even did a short-term rental in the local town. Using the lease, my property records, and the transfer application, I smoothly obtained the school’s acceptance letter. There were only a few days left until the school year started. Despite my wife and I trying our best to hide it, my mom noticed something was wrong. “Why have you two been moping around lately?” “Also, the neighbor upstairs went to a parent-teacher meeting today. Didn’t you get the notice?” My daughter hugged me: “Daddy, what class am I in? I want to be in the same class as Emma!” My heart ached. My wife said, “Honey, we can’t hide this from Mom forever. Just tell her.” My mom immediately got anxious: “What are you two hiding?” I looked conflicted: “Mom, Lily… might not be able to start school right now.” “What did you say?!” My mom yelled. My daughter burst into tears: “Daddy, why can’t I go to school? Emma and I promised to be classmates!” After I explained everything, my mom wanted to go confront the Millers immediately, even suggesting we drag them to the Board of Education for an explanation. My daughter cried until she was hoarse. My wife and I spent half the night comforting them before they finally went to sleep. 08 The next day, sporting dark circles under my eyes, I went to the elite elementary school and submitted Leo’s transfer application as his guardian. I had done some digging. This kid wasn’t just a terror at home; his school record was atrocious. Being at the bottom of his class was the least of it. Using his size, he constantly bullied his classmates, openly disrespected and swore at teachers, and repeatedly ignored discipline, resulting in his parents being called in multiple times. But Greg and his wife had no intention of properly disciplining their son. Every time, they caused a scene at the school, claiming that since they sent their son there, educating him was the school’s problem. So the school was eager to get rid of this problem student. However, transfer procedures are complicated and take time. Next, I went back to the law firm. “Mr. Davis, based on the evidence you provided, your chances of winning are very high. We can file the lawsuit today. As for compensation, that will depend on the judge’s ruling.” I didn’t care about the compensation. Even if that awful family was willing to pay, it wouldn’t be the result I wanted, nor would it quell my anger. I suddenly asked the lawyer: “What happens if there’s a custody dispute between a guardian and biological parents?” The lawyer looked at me in surprise but answered seriously: “Generally, courts rule based on the ‘best interests of the child’ principle. This includes comparing financial situations, relationships with the minor, etc. Of course, the minor’s own wishes are also a very important factor.” I was deep in thought. Just then, my wife called. “Honey, it’s bad! Mom got into a fight with the Millers!” 09 I rushed toward Rainbow Apartments, my heart pounding the whole way. I knew exactly how awful that family was. My mom is elderly and has high blood pressure; she can’t handle stress like this. But the scene I arrived at was nothing like what I expected. I thought my mom would be fighting alone against three. Instead, over a dozen elderly men and women were surrounding the Millers, fighting them. Their door, shoe rack, and walls were covered in bright red paint. Greg’s clothes were torn, he had several bloody scratches on his face and neck, and a clump of hair had been ripped from his forehead. His wife was screaming obscenities at the crowd. Only to be slapped hard across the face by an old man with a catheter bag. “I’ve lived a long time and seen plenty of shameless people, but your family takes the cake!” Greg’s wife was stunned by the slap. When she recovered, she lunged at the old man like a madwoman. But the crowd held her back. The old man held up his catheter bag: “Come on! Hit me! You better beat me to death right here! I’ve lived long enough! Taking down two menaces before I go is worth it!” On the other side, my mom was twisting the brat’s ear, scolding him. His smashed toy gun lay on the ground. “You little brat, shooting people in the eye? If your parents won’t teach you, I will!” The kid wailed in pain, crying for his parents. It was utter chaos. My wife was on the sidelines, completely unable to stop them. Greg, red-faced and furious, yelled that he had called the police. Suddenly, my mom sat down on the ground, and the dozen other seniors followed suit in perfect synchronization, groaning in pain. The old man with the catheter bag was the loudest. Greg jumped up and down in anger: “You old farts! Don’t try that fake-injury scam on me!” Then he saw me. All his rage instantly focused on me. 10 “You idiot! Extortion didn’t work, so you sent your mom to cause trouble?!” He pointed at Leo, who was sobbing uncontrollably: “If my son is traumatized because of you, I’ll kill your whole family!” I said coldly: “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Your son is registered at my address. Legally, I’m his guardian.” Greg sneered dismissively. “You can talk tough all you want, but no matter whose address he’s at, my son is my son! If you ask him to call you ‘Dad,’ do you think he will?” His wife purposely tried to provoke us: “My son being at your address is actually a favor to you! After all, your family only managed to produce a useless girl! Oh my, what if you two suddenly died one day? My son could inherit your property. Doesn’t that make you mad?” My mom jumped up from the ground. “You bitch! I’ll tear your mouth off!” But no matter how tough my mom is, she’s old, and I was afraid she’d get hurt if a real fight broke out. My wife and I quickly held her back. Then the police arrived. Both sides argued their case, leading to another verbal war. In the end, my mom and her group were given a verbal warning. Greg and his wife were not happy. “Why?! They came to our house to cause trouble! Now all three of us have been assaulted! Our house is ruined! And you’re just going to give them a talking-to?!” The officer said, “There’s a reason for all this, and these are elderly people. What do you want us to do? If you push them too hard and someone has a medical emergency, are you going to take responsibility?” Greg was still furious. As we were leaving, he threatened me: “I was going to pay you off and move his registration when he finished elementary school, but since you had to be a prick, I’m not giving you a dime, and I’m not moving his registration either! I’m going to make your life a living hell!” My mom was still crying angry tears on the way back. “It’s just terrible luck. How could the registration get mixed up and let a scumbag like that take advantage?” I comforted her: “Don’t be sad. I’ll definitely find a way to get the spot back!” 11 The day before school started, Leo’s transfer was finalized. The school notified me I could pick up the transfer certificate anytime. But since his registration was still at my address, the spot wasn’t freed up, and my daughter still couldn’t use it. To distract my daughter and stop my mom from impulsively seeking out the Millers again, I temporarily sent them back to our hometown. The next morning, I deliberately waited early outside the elite elementary school. The entrance was bustling with parents dropping off their kids. I immediately spotted Greg and his son in the crowd. Greg saw me too. He smirked disdainfully: “Are you still trying to cause a scene at the school gate?” Because it was the first day, there were several security guards and teachers maintaining order. Greg patted one of the guards. “That guy is lurking around, and he’s not dropping off a kid. Keep an eye on him!” The guard eyed me suspiciously. Greg shot me a smug look and said loudly to Leo: “Go on in, son! Study hard! Don’t waste our elite school spot!” He seemed certain I would start a fight out of anger. Too bad for him, I disappointed him. I just smiled and watched Leo’s back. As soon as the kid walked in, a female teacher said in surprise: “Leo? I thought you transferred. Why are you here?” Greg heard her. He leaned into the gate and laughed: “Ms. Chen, you must be mistaken.” The teacher was firm: “That’s impossible. The school notified me yesterday that Leo had completed an out-of-state transfer.” “Impossible!” Greg roared, startling the parents and students around him. Ignoring the stares, he asked anxiously: “Ms. Chen, I never transferred my kid!” I cleared my throat. “I did.” 12 Greg turned around, completely bewildered: “What did you say?” I raised my voice: “A week ago, I contacted a new school. Leo’s records have been successfully transferred. I’m here today specifically to pick up his transfer certificate.” All the color drained from Greg’s face. He instinctively retorted: “What right do you have to transfer my son?” I said confidently: “Because I’m his legal guardian!” Leo, seemingly missing a few brain cells, suddenly asked excitedly: “Daddy, does that mean I don’t have to go to school?” Greg was already furious, and hearing this made him explode. He slapped Leo on the forehead: “You idiot, why are you laughing! You wouldn’t even know if someone sold you!” I said softly to Leo: “Come here, kid. This school has nothing to do with you anymore. Your new school is over a thousand miles away. Let’s go home and pack!” Greg’s eyes shifted from confusion to disbelief, and from disbelief to sheer rage. “Motherfucker!” He roared and lunged at me. The surrounding students were terrified and scattered, screaming. The parents turned pale and quickly shielded their children. Thanks to Greg’s earlier “warning,” the security guards had been watching me the whole time. Seeing Greg strike first, they reacted swiftly. Before Greg’s hands even reached me, they had him pinned down. His face was contorted, like a vicious dog on a chain, barking at me: “Who the hell do you think you are?! What gives you the right to transfer my son! Transfer him back right now, motherfucker!” I said nonchalantly: “You better get your facts straight. Leo is registered at my address. The paperwork clearly states he’s my son. What happens to my son is none of your damn business!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “442373”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was reborn along with Arthur, but he had no idea. He thought I was still the same love-struck, delusional girl from our past life. The girl who provided him with the best of everything, sent him to the finest university, and supported his startup even if it meant driving my own family into bankruptcy. And in return? Once he had drained every drop of my usefulness, he kicked me to the curb. To add insult to injury, he brought my lifelong nemesis to my face just to tell me he “finally didn’t have to endure the humiliation of my money anymore.” Reborn, I swore I wouldn’t give him a single rusty penny. When it came time to select a student for our corporate scholarship program, he stood in front of me, arrogant and brimming with confidence. But I looked right past him and chose the quiet, battered kid standing next to him. 01 It was the annual charity gala, and I was attending as the representative for the Sterling Corporation. To show our dedication to philanthropy, every year we selected one exceptional student from the applicant pool for a full-ride, one-on-one mentorship and financial sponsorship, handled directly by our executive team. In my past life, this was the exact moment I laid eyes on Arthur and chose him immediately. Unfortunately, he turned out to be an ungrateful parasite. This time, before I arrived, I made sure to invite Chloe. She was my rival—and Arthur’s long-time crush. In our previous life, Arthur had told me more than once that long before I ever sponsored him, Chloe had been secretly in love with him. He claimed that my money had been the only thing standing in the way of their true love. Well, this time, I wanted to see if Chloe would even spare him a passing glance before he became the “Sterling Corporation’s Golden Boy.” When Chloe and I arrived at the grand hall, the administrators and applicants were already gathered. There were over a hundred students crowding the room. I spotted Arthur instantly. I had to admit, purely from an aesthetic standpoint, my past self had good taste. He was over six feet tall, lean, with striking features and pale skin. Standing among a crowd of plainly dressed, underprivileged students, Arthur stood out like a swan among a flock of ducks. Sensing my gaze, Arthur straightened his posture and tilted his chin up even higher. I knew he was reborn, just like me. I wondered how the former billionaire CEO Arthur was adjusting to suddenly waking up as a broke, struggling teenager again. And I was incredibly curious to see how he would react when his most hated enemy humiliated him today. I walked in with a bright, enthusiastic smile. The university officials were incredibly warm, constantly thanking the Sterling Corporation for giving these students a chance to focus on their studies without financial terror. See? Even strangers knew how to be grateful. But simply because I loved him, Arthur had twisted all my sacrifices into a personal insult. Well, this time, I was revoking that love. I hope he’s satisfied. I offered a few polite, humble remarks about corporate social responsibility. Then, it was time for the main event. The university had pre-screened the applicants based on GPA, awards, and extracurriculars, presenting me with a shortlist of ten candidates. I had to choose one for the full-ride sponsorship. I sat at the head of the conference table. The coordinator lined the candidates up to introduce themselves to me one by one. They were all exceptional kids. Their only limitation was a lack of financial resources holding them back from their true potential. Our sponsorship was designed to be the boat that carried them across that first impossible river. The students looked at me with gratitude and burning hope. Everyone knew the one-on-one sponsorship came with massive networking resources and a golden ticket to a brighter future. Soon, it was Arthur’s turn. He really was brilliant. He consistently ranked in the top ten of his class and had a resume packed with state and national academic awards. The coordinator clearly favored him and prompted him to say a few words to make a strong impression on me. But Arthur didn’t play along. He just stared at me coldly and said a flat, “Hello.” The coordinator’s face darkened. Arthur couldn’t care less. He looked at me with an expression of pure, arrogant disdain. In my past life, after hearing his resume, I had bypassed the rest of the candidates and immediately selected him on the spot. He was definitely expecting me to do the exact same thing today. Too bad for him. I turned to the coordinator. “No need to force him. Let’s move on and meet the next student.” Arthur froze, clearly not expecting to be dismissed so quickly. He didn’t move. The coordinator immediately ushered him along. “Arthur, please step aside. We don’t want to waste Ms. Sterling’s time.” Arthur shot me an icy glare before turning on his heel and walking away. See? If I don’t choose you, you aren’t even qualified to stand in front of me. I didn’t even spare him a second glance, focusing my attention on the next candidate. After listening to all ten presentations, I chose a boy named Liam. He didn’t have a laundry list of flashy extracurricular awards, but his GPA was flawlessly ranked number one year-round. He was also the only student with a visible, fading bruise on his face. Rumor had it his alcoholic father beat him regularly. He didn’t seem to harbor any hope of being chosen. It wasn’t until I announced his name that he looked up at me with his dull, lifeless eyes and quietly muttered, “Thank you.” Arthur, unable to accept the loss, sneered loudly from the back of the room. “Just a mindless bookworm.” Liam’s lips pressed into a tight line, but he didn’t say a word. I, however, had absolutely no intention of letting that slide. “Excuse me, applicant. Are you verbally bullying your peer?” I asked, my voice dropping to a freezing temperature. Arthur looked at me in genuine shock, before his face morphed into a subtle, smug expression that clearly said: Ah, I see. You’re just doing this to get my attention. I wanted to vomit. Arthur just put on his best aloof, unbothered persona. “I was just stating a fact.” “So, you don’t believe your behavior is inappropriate?” I didn’t even bother engaging with him further. I turned directly to the university officials. “This is the caliber of candidates you shortlisted? “I seriously question the moral character of this selection pool. “The Sterling Corporation sponsors future leaders who will pass this kindness forward. “If this student treats his peers with such arrogance and cruelty now, I highly doubt he will ever extend a helping hand to those in need when he gains power.” I threw the book at him, aggressively escalating it into a moral issue. Having lived this life once before, I refused to waste my charity on a parasite. As expected, my words threw the administration into a panic. The coordinator immediately jumped in, demanding Arthur apologize to Liam, threatening to revoke his eligibility for any future financial aid if he refused. Arthur glared at me with furious indignation. I didn’t even look at him. Didn’t you say my money was an insult to your dignity? Let’s see if the great CEO Arthur is willing to swallow his pride and beg me for a few thousand bucks of ‘humiliation’ today. “I will not apologize.” Arthur stood his ground. “Don’t think you can use your money to force me to bow my head. “One day, I will show you exactly what I’m capable of! Don’t underestimate a man just because he’s poor today!” Arthur delivered his self-righteous, cinematic monologue. Everyone in the room just stared at him in profound silence. So, me choosing not to give you free money means I’m bullying you? What an absolute, staggering ego. The awkward silence was broken by the sudden, slow clapping of hands. It was Chloe. She clapped as she walked over to stand beside me. “What an incredibly principled young man. You shouldn’t be so harsh on him, Chloe.” Chloe played the manipulative “pick-me” card perfectly, trying to paint me as an elitist bully picking on a poor student. Arthur’s eyes lit up the second he saw her. In his head, he was probably scripting a romantic movie scene where his fragile, secret crush bravely stood up against the evil billionaire to defend his honor. Unfortunately for him, I saw the smug, mocking smirk hiding in the corner of Chloe’s mouth. She was just using Arthur as a pawn to annoy me. I wasn’t the naive idiot I used to be. I wasn’t going to let her play the saint at my expense. “But he was the one who refused to apologize first,” I pointed out, shooting Arthur a look of pure disdain. Predictably, he tilted his chin up defensively and glared at me. “I did nothing wrong.” I let out an exaggerated, theatrical sigh. “The Sterling Corporation absolutely refuses to sponsor candidates who create toxic, hostile environments for their peers. “However—” I pivoted sharply. “Since you are so impressed by this young man’s principles, Chloe, why doesn’t your family sponsor him?” The moment those words left my mouth, Arthur’s eyes sparkled with desperate hope as he looked at Chloe. Chloe, however, choked on her words. Her face contorted awkwardly. She finally mumbled a vague excuse, “I… I’ll have to discuss it with my family.” Heh. She was a neglected, illegitimate daughter from a minor branch of her family. She couldn’t secure a five-dollar loan if she tried. But seeing the arrogant smirk on Arthur’s face—clearly believing that even without me, he had Chloe to back him up—I simply grabbed some mental popcorn and took a seat. I was incredibly excited to see how far Arthur would get this time without the Sterling family’s bottomless bank accounts. 02 Liam and I both enrolled at Columbia University. Arthur ended up at a local state college. His grades were originally high enough for Columbia. But the state college offered him a massive financial aid package, incredibly cheap room and board, and a monthly living stipend. Liam and I bumped into Arthur on the street one day. His eyes swept over Liam dismissively from head to toe, and he scoffed. “Gold-digging toyboy.” This exact scenario had played out in my past life too. Back then, I was obsessed with him. I found every excuse in the book to hang around him. Rumors started spreading that he had latched onto the Sterling heiress and was set for life. One day, while I was waiting in line with him at the cafeteria, a guy passing by muttered “sugar baby.” Arthur’s face instantly turned black. While the guy swaggered away laughing, Arthur spun around and violently slapped my lunch tray out of my hands, screaming at me to stay the hell away from him. Greasy food splattered all over my clothes. The entire cafeteria stopped and stared at me. Even now, I can remember the suffocating, agonizing humiliation of that moment. I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. I deeply regretted not slapping him across the face right then and there. What an absolute piece of trash. Someone insulted him, and he took his bruised ego out on me. And now, he was mercilessly insulting the guy who had taken his place. I was just about to rip into him when Liam stepped forward, staring dead into Arthur’s eyes. “You’re jealous of me.” It wasn’t a question. It was a flat, objective statement delivered with chilling clarity. Arthur took a step back, desperately trying to maintain his composure. “Why the hell would I be jealous of you?” Liam took another step forward. “You’re jealous that I got into Columbia, and you didn’t. “You’re jealous that Chloe chose me, and she didn’t choose you. “You’re jealous that I’m the one standing next to her right now, and you aren’t.” A lethal, three-strike combo. I honestly wanted to give Liam a standing ovation. Arthur was completely outmatched. After all, he couldn’t exactly claim he chose state college because he thought Columbia was beneath him. In the end, all he could do was mutter a pathetic “I don’t have time for your bullshit,” and scurry away. Only then did Liam drop his aggressive, intimidating aura and step quietly back to my side like an obedient puppy. “You aren’t mad?” I asked. “I know it isn’t true,” Liam replied simply. Perfect. At least the guy I picked this time was mentally stable, unlike the last one who turned into a rabid dog over a single stray comment. 03 I thought after an absolute humiliation like that, a guy with an ego as massive as Arthur’s wouldn’t show his face around me for a very long time. I severely underestimated his shamelessness. While I was studying in the library, he tracked me down. “Chloe, I’m giving you the opportunity to invest in my new clean-energy tech startup. “If you give me $5 million, I’ll give you 0.1% of the founder’s equity.” Arthur stood in front of my desk, planting both hands on the table, staring down at me with absolute authority. His eyes were a perfectly calibrated mix of 30% mockery, 30% indifference, 30% coldness, and 10% charity. It was an aura of pure, unadulterated “Billionaire CEO.” But who the hell pitches a venture capital investment like an absolute psycho? I kicked the leg of the table hard and shoved my chair back, standing up. “You’re standing too close to me.” Arthur’s hand slipped, and he stumbled awkwardly before catching his balance. Good. His “Alpha Male” aura was still leaking, but at least it wasn’t suffocating me anymore. The students studying nearby shot us annoyed glares. I bowed my head apologizing profusely. “I am so sorry. This guy from another school was harassing me, and I couldn’t hold it in.” “Who the hell said I was harassing you?!” Arthur yelled. Instantly, several large, athletic guys sitting nearby stood up, glaring at Arthur. Arthur instantly deflated. “It’s a misunderstanding. Just a misunderstanding.” I signaled that I was fine, and the guys sat back down. Arthur leaned in close, gritting his teeth in a furious whisper. “Chloe, do not push your luck.” I shrugged, showing him his threats meant absolutely nothing to me. Furious but lacking options, Arthur forced himself to negotiate. “Chloe, think this through. “If you don’t invest in my company now, when your family’s empire collapses, don’t blame me for not giving you a lifeline.” Arthur looked down at me from his imaginary pedestal, looking exactly like a benevolent god staring down at an ant. In that moment, everything clicked. Right. In my past life, to fund his startup, I threw a suicidal tantrum and forced my family to liquidate every cent of our cash reserves to invest in him. Because of the massive cash drain, our company almost went bankrupt. It was only when his core technology finally achieved a major breakthrough that he secured series B funding and pulled my family out of the crisis. No wonder he always acted so arrogant and superior around me. He genuinely believed he was the savior of my family. But if I hadn’t drained our entire cash flow to fund him in the first place, we never would have faced bankruptcy at all! A guy like him… even reborn, he only remembered the parts of history that glorified him. The actual facts and context? Completely irrelevant. Now that I understood his psychotic mental gymnastics, I was going to be even more ruthless. “You want an investment? Show me your corporate incorporation documents. “Where is your engineering team? “Where is your business plan? “Where are your projected ROI reports?” A rapid-fire barrage of basic questions. Arthur couldn’t answer a single one. I looked at him with pure, unadulterated contempt. “You show up here with absolutely nothing and demand my money? “Based on what? “That pretty face of yours?” I genuinely just wanted to insult him. But his brain must have gone to a very weird place, because he looked at me with an expression of deeply offended, violated modesty. “Chloe Sterling, don’t think that just because you have a little money you can do whatever you want! “I will never, ever submit to you! “If you won’t invest, fine! “I’ll wait for the day you come crawling back, begging me.” Then he literally jogged out of the library in a huff. It looked bizarrely like a Victorian maiden fleeing a scandalous proposition. But God as my witness, I literally just didn’t want to give him my money. Somehow, Arthur still managed to secure funding. Rumor had it Chloe used her connections to secure a $500,000 seed investment for him, taking 51% of the equity in his newly formed startup. Arthur became an instant legend at his state college. He was enrolled in their prestigious education program, but those classes were completely useless for his tech startup. So, he simply stopped going to class. When a professor criticized him for slacking off, he arrogantly snapped back, asking the professor how many decades of teaching it would take to earn the half-million dollars he just secured in funding. After that, no one at the school bothered to discipline him again. I knew exactly what Arthur’s startup project was. He was a smart guy. In his past life, he entered the electric vehicle sector, specifically focusing on extending battery life and efficiency. Back then, I loved him, so naturally I thought he was a misunderstood genius. I used my family’s massive influence to pull strings and get him accepted into Columbia’s elite Energy Science and Engineering program. He spent four years laser-focused on his studies in a world-class environment, and during his Master’s, he co-founded his company with his thesis advisor. But now? He was just a freshman at a mid-tier state college. Even with his memories of the future, he had spent years sitting behind a CEO’s desk, completely detached from the actual front lines of R&D. Could a washed-up CEO really single-handedly develop revolutionary battery technology from scratch? I couldn’t wait to watch the train wreck. 04 Arthur assembled his startup team. He hunted down the people who had co-founded his company in our past life. Unfortunately for him, only the guys who were currently broke and desperate enough to listen to his sales pitch actually joined him. As for his genius thesis advisor from our past life? I heard he refused to even take a meeting with Arthur. Obviously. He was a globally recognized titan in his field. Why the hell would he entertain a pitch from a random freshman at an unrelated state college? I, however, took a different approach. Leveraging my status as an alum, and armed with $3 million in venture capital, I happily finalized a partnership with that exact professor. And I slipped Liam into his lab as a research assistant while I was at it. He was majoring in the exact same field anyway. Getting him early access to an elite R&D team and setting him up for a seamless Ph.D. track? Win-win. Shortly after joining the lab, Liam started sharing the gossip his upperclassmen had about Arthur. For example, Arthur had marched into a meeting and commanded: “I want a complete dossier on every single one of our competitors on my desk in three minutes.” One of the grad students painstakingly opened an industry database, typed in a flurry of commands, and hit a paywall requiring an expensive corporate subscription to proceed. He turned the monitor around to face Arthur. Arthur’s intimidating, billionaire-CEO aura instantly vanished the second he saw the price tag. It cost $30,000 a year. To the Arthur of his past life, backed by the Sterling family’s endless wealth, those reports were just a few clicks away. But in this life, he was getting a brutal reality check on exactly how expensive raw, actionable market data truly was. He obviously didn’t pay for the subscription. An hour later, Arthur tossed a list of target companies to the team and told them to manually scrape the internet for product specs. But after hours of searching, they found barely anything. One of the companies on his list hadn’t even been incorporated yet. When the student tried to hand in the pathetic results, Arthur screamed in his face for half an hour, yelling that these were industry titans and it was impossible that there was no data on them. Terrible pay, psychotic demands. The student snapped, got into a screaming match with Arthur, and quit on the spot. When he returned to Columbia, he vented to Liam and the rest of the lab, saying Arthur didn’t have the destiny of a CEO, but he definitely had the mental illness of one. I thought that summary was absolutely flawless. Arthur had always been arrogant. In our past life, his smooth, meteoric rise to success was entirely because I was paving his path with the Sterling Corporation’s limitless resources. He needed data? My corporate strategy department held platinum subscriptions to every major database in the world. He needed a business plan? I had a dozen elite project managers draft individual sections, compiled it, and let Arthur present it as his own. He needed a technological breakthrough? A lab full of brilliant, exhausted engineers pulled 80-hour weeks for months to secure the patents… and put Arthur’s name as the lead inventor. Those were the people who forged the halo that made Arthur look like a brilliant tech visionary and a billionaire prodigy. But he was so narcissistic he genuinely believed he was the sun, radiating light all on his own. And the old me had been so utterly blind and love-struck that I actually believed he was a diamond buried in the rough.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “442374”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the day of my shotgun wedding to Liam Vance, his childhood friend cried and asked him: “If she and I ever get into a fight in the future, whose side will you take?” Liam impatiently told her she was being ridiculous. Yet, he sided with her every single time. When his childhood friend orchestrated a cyberbullying campaign against herself, Liam was convinced I was the mastermind and forced me to issue a public apology across all platforms. “Mia, when you do something wrong, you have to apologize.” But he didn’t know. Every apology was a countdown to our separation. Once I completed the final three forced-apology plot points, I could detach from the system and go home. 01 Popular actress Chloe Sterling was accused of being a homewrecker, interfering in my relationship with Liam Vance. That same day, she stormed into my studio and slashed my wrist. Just as my manager, Sarah, grabbed Chloe to call the police, Liam arrived. The moment he walked in, Chloe started crying pitifully: “Liam, everyone online is attacking me. Can you ask Mia to clear things up for me?” Everyone knew she was the childhood friend Liam had spoiled since they were kids. Every time she framed me and cried, Liam always assumed it was my fault. Sarah realized this too, her face turning pale with anger: “Based on one photo, why are you assuming it’s Mia’s doing?” The photo exposing Chloe was plastered all over the internet. In the photo, Chloe was on her tiptoes, trying to lean in and kiss Liam. Coincidentally, I had a very similar photo on my phone. So, Chloe insisted I was framing her. I looked up at Liam, about to explain, but he grabbed my wrist. He usually maintained a calm, indifferent demeanor. But when his eyes fell on my bandaged wrist, he frowned. “Does it hurt?” The warmth of his fingertips transferred through the gauze. Maybe the pain was making me delusional. In that moment, I almost thought Liam was going to believe me this time. But the next second, Liam let out a soft chuckle. “If you knew it would hurt, why did you do it?” My heart dropped, sinking lower with his words. I slowly looked up, meeting Liam’s gaze. I saw the blatant mockery in his dark eyes. “Mia.” He pinched my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Why can’t you just learn to behave?” 02 Liam still didn’t believe me. He was convinced I had posted the photo out of jealousy. He demanded I apologize and clear her name across all platforms. As soon as he finished speaking, a dead silence fell over the studio. I didn’t look up, but I felt numerous eyes on me. Relying on Liam’s backing, Chloe had stolen many roles and endorsements from me over the years. My current position in the industry was already precarious. Stepping forward to apologize now would completely ruin my career. Liam knew this better than anyone, but he showed no mercy. I looked up at him, my nose stinging uncomfortably. “So from the very beginning, you came here to interrogate me on her behalf.” From the moment he walked through the door, I had clung to a sliver of hope. Thinking that after being by his side for five years, he would stand by me just once. But he never did. Liam was now a prominent figure everyone in the city looked up to. His features hadn’t changed much from five years ago. His downcast eyes always seemed to carry a hint of tenderness. “I don’t play favorites,” he looked at me, enunciating every word. “Mia, when you do something wrong, you must make amends.” There’s that phrase again. But Liam. What gives you the right to condemn me so easily? The system sighed, unable to watch: [I told you not to invest real feelings when doing missions!] [Just endure it a little longer. Only three apology missions left, Host.] Seven years ago, I was pulled into this world. The only way home was to play the role of the long-suffering original wife and complete the idiotic forced-apology plot missions. And now, I was only three away. The sudden ringing of a phone shattered the silence. Sarah answered it. But the next second, all the color drained from her face. “Mia,” Sarah looked up at me, her voice strained. “The Best Actress award… they changed the winner.” My throat tightened. “…What?” 03 This was the award I had spent seven years fighting tooth and nail for, risking my life. For one close-up shot, I stayed in freezing water during winter for over forty takes, leaving me with severe lingering health issues. After being nominated and losing for three consecutive years, I thought my hard work was finally going to pay off this time. Chloe slowly peeked out from behind Liam, her eyes curving into a smile at me. “Sorry, Mia.” “I forgot to tell you.” “Liam said this year’s Best Actress award is my birthday present.” A loud ringing filled my head. I looked at Liam, suddenly unable to say a word. Chloe’s sweet, syrupy voice kept drilling into my ears. “I actually told him I didn’t really need it, but Liam insisted on giving it to me…” I couldn’t listen anymore. I grabbed whatever was nearby and hurled it at them. Chloe hid behind Liam in fear. Liam stood in front of her, frowning, “Stop making a scene.” “Stop making a scene, did you hear me?!” I didn’t want to lose face like this, but the tears wouldn’t stop falling. I knew I must look ugly and ridiculous right then. I looked at Liam and asked him: “What gives you the right? I risked my life for that. What gives you the right to just give it to Chloe?” Not expecting such a huge reaction from me, Liam was stunned. “It’s just one award. I’ll get you a more prestigious one next time, okay?” “Stop crying.” … But Liam, I don’t have a next time. Then, as you wish, I’ll apologize. That way, I can quickly finish the plot and return to my own world. 04 I typed out the clarification post word by word while crying. A few hundred words with only one core message: I was jealous of Chloe and maliciously took a misleading photo to deceive the public. After posting it, overwhelming abuse flooded my feed. [So disgusting. She staged a fake photo to create drama for herself.] [Our Chloe has always said she doesn’t plan on getting married. Besides, they’ve been platonic childhood friends for over twenty years. Stop acting crazy and throwing dirt, old lady.] [Mia is not that kind of person! I’ve been her fan for years, I know her better than you do. Mia, if you’re being threatened, change your profile picture!] [Stop trying to clean up her image. No one cares. I hope old lady Mia and her brain-dead fans go to hell.] … My vision suddenly went dark. Liam had returned at some point. He blocked the screen, preventing me from reading further. “If it’s just meaningless talk, don’t take it to heart.” “Just get through tonight, and I’ll suppress the trending topics.” I didn’t say a word. The living room was completely quiet. Liam reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I explained the photo to you at the time. Chloe was drunk.” “I’ve always seen Chloe as a little sister. You don’t need to keep making things difficult for her.” Liam seemed to have never considered that Chloe was the one who provoked me first. He had never believed me. I looked up at Liam. Suddenly, I wondered. If he knew I was innocent. If he knew that every apology accelerated my departure. What kind of expression would he have? 05 The second-to-last apology came very quickly. Sarah couldn’t stand seeing me bullied and publicized my marriage certificate with Liam. She even added thousands of words detailing how Chloe had been causing trouble. To the public, Liam and I had always just been dating. Dropping this massive bombshell instantly shifted public opinion. People love drama. They don’t really care about what’s true or false. Many rushed to Chloe’s social media accounts, cursing her out. I found out about this late at night. I had been severely ill for the past few days. In my feverish haze, I felt someone push the door open. In the darkness, my eyes met Liam’s. In that moment, I felt a sudden disorientation. In the past, when I was sick, Liam would be so worried he couldn’t sleep all night. Drifting between sleep and wakefulness, I would see Liam sitting by my bed, watching me. Even an arrogant rich kid like him would get red-rimmed eyes from distress in the middle of the night. But now, he looked at me quietly, a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “Did you orchestrate Sarah’s post?” His cold fingers combed through my hair, the chill making me shiver. He asked me with a smiling tone: “Do you know what I’ve been busy with these past few days? I’ve been busy winning the auction for that limited-edition necklace you wanted.” “But what did you do?” “Mia, will you only be satisfied when Chloe is dead?” I propped myself up, my eyes full of confusion. Liam had no intention of giving me a chance to explain. He dragged me, still running a fever, to the hospital. It was only when he pushed open the hospital room door that I found out. Chloe had slit her wrists. 06 Lying in the hospital bed, she burst into tears the moment she saw me: “I never wanted to fight with you for anything.” “Mia, why won’t you just let me go?” She sobbed incoherently: “When I’m discharged… tonight, I’ll leave this city. I won’t appear around Liam ever again.” My head was spinning, and it took me a long time to react. …It’s these same cheap tricks again. Yet Liam believed them implicitly. In the beginning, I used to be so upset I couldn’t sleep, explaining things to Liam over and over again. He seemed to side with me, but whenever he spoke, he always favored Chloe. He always said making me apologize was for my own good. But it felt like he never actually believed me. Later, I started fighting with Liam. By the end of every argument, all that was left was resentment. Gradually, I began to realize that compared to me, Liam instinctively trusted the childhood friend he had spoiled since they were kids. No one could intrude on the bond between them. A wave of exhaustion deeply enveloped me. I asked him numbly, “How do you want me to apologize this time?” “Is it ‘you must make amends for doing something wrong’ again?” “Or an eye for an eye? Want to cut me again?” Liam’s eyes were complex. He reached out and rolled down my pushed-up sleeve, his voice somewhat helpless: “Stop talking nonsense.” I quietly waited for his next words. Like waiting for the final blade of execution. “I’ve thought about it carefully. We still need to minimize the chances of you two interacting.” Liam looked at me. “Mia, retire from the entertainment industry.” “You can do whatever you want in the future.” “I’ll…” A sharp slap interrupted Liam’s words. I pulled my hand back, my fingertips tingling. Liam’s head was turned to the side from the force of my slap. He turned his head back to look at me, finishing his sentence as if nothing had happened: “I’ll be right here with you.” 07 “Absolutely not!” An urgent, panicked voice rang out. Sarah, who had rushed over, stood in the doorway. She must have come in a hurry; her chest was heaving. “I did this on my own. Don’t make things difficult for Mia.” Sarah had always been strong, but that day, she stood in front of me and cried. She stared at Liam, incredibly sad. “I can’t stand seeing Mia suffer like this.” “Piece by piece, you’ve shown enough favoritism toward Chloe over the years.” “It wasn’t easy for Mia to get to where she is now.” “Could you at least… just once… choose to stand by her side?” 08 Liam ultimately didn’t change his mind. Before long, I would be completely blacklisted and hidden away. On the way back with Sarah, a sudden autumn rain began to fall. The cold wind felt like it was drilling into my bones. Sarah frantically tried to hold an umbrella over me. But the rain came too fast, and we still got mostly soaked. The wet clothes clung to my body, cold and sticky. I stared silently at my soaked cuffs. It felt like just a sudden downpour, but it seemed like these past seven years had all been this damp and cold. 09 The mission progress reached 99%. Just one last apology, and I could go home. I started packing my final belongings, giving whatever I could to Sarah. Sarah stared at me blankly. “What are you doing? Don’t do anything stupid.” “Didn’t Liam say he’d support me? I’ll spend his money, and I’ll use his money to support you.” I placed a bank card in Sarah’s hand. “Keep this safe for me.” “Mia, no matter what happens, I’m here.” “If you’re unhappy, come find me. Worst case, just divorce him.” I turned to walk back, waving at Sarah. If I had known that would be the last time I saw her, I would have said a few more words and given her a proper goodbye. 10 The sky was overcast when I left Sarah’s place. It looked like a heavy rain was about to pour. After picking up the custom watch from the store, I texted Liam as I walked back. [Birthday present. Come home early.] Liam replied very quickly, a low chuckle in his voice note: “Okay. Don’t trick me again today.” After I was blacklisted, Liam practically stuck to my side, inseparable. I called him disgusting. I found excuses to mess with him time and time again. Liam got quite angry. But I didn’t plan on messing with him this time. Today was his birthday. I wanted to use this birthday present to negotiate a better position for Sarah. After I leave, she’ll truly be alone. But I seem to have terrible luck. The more I want to do something, the less likely it is to happen. I was kidnapped.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “442375”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel