Category: English

I saw it on a TikTok posted by one of Mark’s residents. A short, looping video of her, Jenna, clinging to his arm, her steps perfectly in sync with his. The caption read: “Wherever my attending goes, I go. So lucky to have the best mentor in the world.” And then I saw the comment from Mark’s official account: “Better hold on tight. Don’t want you getting lost and crying for me to come find you again!” God, Mark never commented on anything. He didn’t even ‘like’ my posts, claiming he never had the time. But suddenly, here he was, with not just the time, but the inclination to banter. I locked my phone, my finger hovering for a second before I switched apps. Then I canceled the caterer for the wedding. A man with no boundaries? No, I think I’ll pass. 1 Jenna’s face, bubbly and bright, flashed across my screen as I scrolled through six months of her digital life. Nearly every video featured Mark. It was a slow burn of a story, from her initial, tentative interactions to the casual intimacy of her leaning into his side. The comments section was a chorus of encouragement. “Girl, you should just snatch him up! He looks like he’d be a good kisser!” “You can just tell he’s handsome from the back. That presence!” “Good men are a limited resource, honey. You better act fast!” Jenna’s reply to that one was a single, coy sentence: “I’m trying my best! ;)” I scoffed, dismissing it, until a text from Mark came through: “Audrey, surgery ran late. Can’t make dinner tonight.” The old me would have sent back a supportive message, full of understanding. But some strange impulse took over. I wanted to see for myself. So, I just replied, “Okay.” After freshening up, I drove to the hospital. I spotted them from the parking garage. Mark was walking out of the main entrance of the medical center, and Jenna was right behind him. She skipped a little to catch up, her hand finding his as she pressed close to his side. “Dr. Ashton, let’s get dinner! I’m so nervous about the night shift.” “What’s there to be nervous about?” Mark’s voice was warm, amused. “I’ll be there. You think I’d let you fail?” The sound of his laugh, so easy and light, made my chest tighten. I’d braced myself for something, but seeing it—the casual way she held him, the way he smiled down at her—was a physical pain. His eyes finally met mine across the asphalt, and his smile froze. “Audrey?” I forced a placid smile, grabbing the takeout container from the passenger seat. “Just passing through,” I said, holding it out. “Brought you dinner.” Mark started to say something, but Jenna bounced forward before he could. “Oh, who’s this, Dr. Ashton? Is this your sister?” Her feigned innocence was nauseating. I couldn’t be bothered to play her little game. Mark, however, frowned. “This is my fiancée, Jenna. Don’t be ridiculous.” She stuck her tongue out playfully. “Oops, my bad! Sorry, ma’am, I couldn’t tell.” “Clearly, your observational skills could use some work,” I said, my voice dangerously sweet. “You’re a resident, so you must be what, twenty-five? I’m younger than you. The ‘ma’am’ is a bit much.” I held her gaze. “Poor eyesight is one thing, but you can’t afford to make a mistake on the operating table. That could be fatal. Right, Mark?” Mark cleared his throat. Jenna’s eyes immediately welled with tears. She ducked her head. “I’m sorry, I was just joking. I’ll let you two talk.” She scurried away, and Mark’s gaze followed her, his brow furrowed with concern. He turned back to me, his voice sharp. “Audrey, that was over the line. She likes to kid around, that’s all. You didn’t have to be so aggressive.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Are you serious, Mark? There’s a limit to ‘kidding around.’ How would you feel if you saw me walking out of my office holding hands with another man?” He froze, his defense faltering. “That’s different. We were just messing around. Audrey, don’t make a big deal out of this. We’re about to get married. She’s just a student.” Just a student. The words echoed in my head. I didn’t say another word, just rolled up my window and drove away. In the rearview mirror, I could see him standing there, his face a mask of frustration. But that wasn’t my problem anymore. Back home, I saw Jenna had already posted a new TikTok. The video was a close-up of a fancy takeout box—my takeout box—on a table. The text overlay read: “Dealing with some random female jealousy today. I’ll never understand the way some women’s minds work. So thankful for Dr. A’s comfort food and pep talk!” I let out a cold, humorless laugh. Mark, you didn’t just cross a line. You torched it. Just then, an email popped up from the wedding planner. “Ms. Miller, I’ve attached the finalized menu selections from the caterer. Please let me know if you’d like any changes.” I glanced at the attachment, my finger hovering over the reply button. After a long moment, I typed back: “Let me review and get back to you.” Thinking back, from the moment we got engaged, I had been the one making every single decision about this wedding. Mark’s constant refrain was: “Audrey, I’m just too swamped. I trust you with all of this.” “Whatever you think is best, Audrey.” 2 And just like that, the responsibility that should have been ours became mine alone. And what was he doing during all of this? If it had truly been for work, I would have understood. But it wasn’t, was it? When I was trying on wedding dresses, he was helping Jenna clean up a mess she’d made with a patient’s chart. When I was picking out party favors, he left me at the store, saying there was an emergency at the hospital. I later saw on Jenna’s TikTok that she’d had a panic attack, and he’d rushed over to calm her down. There were so many moments. It was only now, scrolling through her social media, that I realized just how many times Mark had abandoned me for her. I had to laugh at my own foolishness. He never had any intention of sharing this burden with me. I’d been happy to do it all, thinking I was building our future. Now I just felt like an idiot. Why should I be the only one invested in this? A wedding is a partnership. If he didn’t care, why should I? I took a deep breath and forwarded the caterer’s email to Mark. He didn’t reply. Of course he didn’t. I hadn’t expected him to. Four hours later, around the time his surgery should have been ending, my phone rang. I was already asleep, and the sound jolted me awake. I was still disoriented when I heard his voice. “Audrey, about the menus. I trust your judgment. Whatever you decide is fine with me. I’m not picky.” It took me a second to process what he was talking about. “Okay. Got it.” My response must have been too flat because he hesitated, about to say more. But then a voice chirped in the background, clear as day. Jenna’s voice. “Dr. Ashton, let’s go eat! I’m starving!” “Audrey, I…” “I’ll talk to you later,” I said, my voice cold. “I’m going back to sleep.” I hung up before he could reply. Sleep, of course, was now impossible. All I could hear was her voice, and all I could feel was a strange, liberating sense of absurdity. Instead of letting the anger consume me, I decided to act. I opened my email, found the thread with the wedding planner, and typed a simple message. I didn’t expect a reply in the middle of the night, but one came back almost instantly. “Ms. Miller, is everything all right? It’s very difficult to book a venue this season.” “Yes, we’ve decided to call it off. Please cancel the wedding. And I understand the deposit is non-refundable. My apologies for the inconvenience.” A moment later, a reply: “I’m so very sorry to hear that. I wish you all the best in finding happiness.” “Thank you.” Next came a flurry of cancellations. The photographer. The florist. The band. By the time I was done, it was two in the morning. The only thing I couldn’t cancel was the dress. It was custom-made, already finished. All I could do was arrange to pick it up. The next day, I met my best friend, Sophie, for coffee. When I told her I’d called off the wedding, her eyes went wide. “Did he cheat on you?” “Not physically, I don’t think. But he’s damn close.” I showed her Jenna’s TikTok account. Sophie’s face twisted in disgust. “What a classic little pick-me bitch,” she seethed. “Is Mark blind? This is the kind of girl who will ruin his entire life.” She grabbed my hand. “Don’t you worry. I’ve got your back.” I managed a weak smile. It wasn’t sadness I felt, exactly. It was a profound sense of disappointment. Mark had always been so reserved, so coolly professional. Why was he throwing it all away for her? “Ms. Miller? The groom’s tuxedo has also been returned with the dress.” The boutique owner’s voice pulled me back to the present. I took the garment bag and tossed it in the trunk of my car. Seeing the dazed look on my face, Sophie dragged me to the mall. “Out with the old, in with the new,” she declared. “So, when are you going to officially end it with him?” “Tonight, I think.” I sent Mark a text, asking him to meet me for dinner. It took a while for him to respond. “Okay. You pick the place.” I sent him the address of a quiet Italian restaurant downtown. He didn’t reply after that. Sophie and I shopped for hours until my feet ached. We found a café to rest. As we sat down, my phone buzzed. It was Mark. The background was noisy. “Audrey, something’s come up tonight. I’m going to be late. Wait for me.” 3 Sophie read the text over my shoulder and snorted. “He’d better have a good reason.” On a whim, I pulled up Jenna’s TikTok profile. Her latest video had been posted just an hour ago. She was going on a blind date. Sophie’s eyes lit up with a wicked gleam. “Oh, this is a power move. She’s testing him.” “What do you mean?” “She’s trying to see if Mark actually has feelings for her. If he does, he won’t let this date happen. If he doesn’t, you two probably stay together, and she keeps playing the long game.” Sophie leaned in, her voice dropping. “Audrey, this is your chance. You need to see where his loyalty really lies. And what a coincidence… look where her date is.” She pointed to the location tag on the video. “It’s the same restaurant you picked.” She grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet. “Come on. Mark’s going to be late anyway. We can grab a bite and watch the show.” She was right. We went to the restaurant and got a table in a secluded corner. Sophie was chattering away when she suddenly squeezed my hand. “Showtime.” Sure enough, there was Jenna, looking sweet and demure in a floral dress, a far cry from her hospital scrubs. The man across from her seemed interested, but she kept shaking her head, pulling her hand away. “I’m sorry, I already have a boyfriend. We’re not a good match.” “I don’t think so,” the man insisted. “Your parents told me you were single. Let’s just give it a try.” “They don’t know about him,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “I’m telling you, I’m taken!” Jenna yanked her hand free just as Mark strode into the restaurant. I checked my phone. He was right on time for our date. I started to raise my hand to wave, but he walked straight past our table, making a beeline for Jenna. He put a possessive arm around her shoulder. The man on the date looked up, annoyed. “Who the hell are you?” “I’m her boyfriend.” Jenna melted into his side. “I told you I had a boyfriend. Please, just leave me alone.” “Boyfriend? You’re lying. He’s your attending physician at the hospital!” “So what?” Jenna retorted. “An attending can’t be a boyfriend? Just stay away from me. We’re not a good fit!” “Fine! Great!” The man was furious. “I hope you two are happy together. Don’t come crying to me when you regret this!” He threw a bouquet of roses onto the table and stormed out. Jenna turned to Mark, her hand on his arm. “Dr. Ashton, thank you so much. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know how I would’ve gotten rid of him. He was so creepy! He even followed me home once!” Mark patted her head gently. “It’s okay. But you need to learn to protect yourself. I can’t always be there to rescue you.” “Why not? I texted you, and you came,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes. “Honestly, Dr. Ashton… have you ever considered me?” My heart stopped. I watched Mark, praying he would say the right thing. He smiled softly. “I can’t. I’m getting married soon.” “So what? If you had met me first, before her… you would have considered me, right?” She tilted her head, waiting. And in that moment, I desperately needed to hear his answer, too. I needed to know how he would choose. His features were clear in the dim light as he looked down at the pretty, hopeful girl before him. The tenderness in his eyes was a dagger in my heart. Then, he nodded. “Yes.” The word hit me like a physical blow. My hand clenched into a fist on the table, and Sophie let out a strangled cry of rage. “Yes, my ass! Mark, you shameless bastard! You’re getting married, and you’re still playing games with this little homewrecker!” The sudden outburst made Mark spin around. His eyes locked with mine, and panic flashed across his face. I pushed myself up from the table and walked toward them, a smile stretched so tight across my face it felt like it would crack. “Audrey, let me explain…” “Mark,” I said, my voice steady. “We’re done. The wedding is off.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385924”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The day I was found by my birth parents, I was four years old. A bodyguard in a black suit drove me to a palatial estate nestled in the hills, a place that looked more like a palace than a home. That’s where I first met her. The false daughter, Claire, wearing an exquisite chiffon dress and a hair clip that probably cost thousands. She tilted her head, all innocence and purity. “Are you the new cleaner’s daughter?” Given the personality my “adoptive” parents had beaten into me, I should have been terrified by the opulence, completely frozen and at a loss for words. But… apologies. This time, I’m the one who’s been reborn. I opened my eyes. Outside the tinted window of the luxury sedan, the world blurred past. Inside, it was just me, a tiny body huddled in the plush leather seat, and the bodyguard up front, all black suit and sunglasses. My eyes were lifeless, staring out the window. There was no childish wonder, just a deep, profound boredom. I really don’t get it. Why give a second chance at life to someone who has absolutely no desire to live? Hmm… I tried to remember. My last life ended in… suicide? Yeah, I think that was it. The car moved fast, tracing the exact same path from my previous life, heading straight for the gilded cage that would trap me for a lifetime. That villa. A monument to extravagant wealth, a place only the true upper echelon had the right to inhabit. Inside lived the perfect family of four. The father, a CEO with terrifying power and influence. The mother, a beautiful and elegant socialite. The brother, a handsome and gentle protector of his little sister. And the sister, the innocent, doted-on family pet. They adored their youngest daughter. They spoiled her so much they couldn’t even bear to send her to kindergarten until she was four. And then, the drama. The routine kindergarten physical revealed the shocking truth: the precious angel they had cherished for four years, the girl who was their entire world, wasn’t biologically theirs. Their real daughter—me—had been swapped at birth. For four years, I’d been living in a run-down, remote fishing village. Though it was hard to accept, the wealthy parents immediately arranged to have their biological daughter brought back. But they could never have predicted that one day, they would scream at this same daughter, all to protect the fake one: “You’re so venomous! I’d rather you had died out there!” That brother, always so warm and gentle to the world, would one day stand in front of Claire, shielding her from me. His voice, a cold warning: “Know when to back off. Don’t push it.” My fiancé, a man I barely knew, part of an arranged marriage alliance, would look at me with undisguised contempt. From the moment I was brought “home,” everyone thought Claire was better, sweeter, more pitiful. I was the “real” daughter, supposedly returned to a life of luxury, but I was forever trapped in a life of comparisons, disgust, and false accusations. All I wanted was to be loved. And I was destroyed by that very desire. I felt something wet on my cheek. A tear. But I don’t feel sad. Not at all. I prodded my sluggish, numb brain. After a moment, I could only curse. This new body is so damn sentimental. I remembered something else. Right before the darkness consumed me in my last life, a voice whispered in my ear: “You can’t fight the protagonist’s aura…” Can’t fight it? If I can’t fight it, why let me be reborn? Were you not entertained enough by my first life, watching me pace my cage like a pathetic animal? Or was my last life just not pathetic enough for you? The car was silent. No one answered my questions. 2 I was brought into the villa. Warren and Helen Ashford were already waiting on the sofa, beside them, my nine-year-old brother, Evan. They hadn’t expected, I suppose, that no one would bother to change my clothes. I was still wearing my adoptive cousin’s hand-me-downs—a filthy, worn-out shirt. On my feet were a pair of equally filthy sandals, the soles peeling off. My straw-colored hair was matted in clumps. I didn’t miss the flicker of shock and… something complex… in their eyes. I didn’t know if they were disgusted by my clothes, or just by me. “Mommy~” A girl in a poufy pink dress, her hair in perfect ringlets held back by a sparkling clip, descended the spiral staircase. A nanny followed dutifully behind her. Her dress was beautiful. The vibrant color, the delicate embroidery of little bunnies and flowers. Look at that. In an instant, she had captured everyone’s attention. I have to admit, in my last life, I envied Claire. Even when I was pathetically trying to pull rank as the “real” daughter, I envied her. Her biological parents loved her—so much they’d swapped me for her, ensuring she’d have a good life. My biological parents loved her—before I died, hardly anyone even knew she was the fake. My brother loved her, protecting her at every turn. Everything that was supposed to be mine, loved her. Only I hated her. 3 My name is Audrey. Before my “real” parents found me, I was called Marina. Living in a fishing village, the name “Marina” was predictable, a choice I never got to make. Later, Warren Ashford changed “Marina” to “Audrey,” meaning “noble strength.” I was so happy then. I felt like a pearl, finally wiped clean of the mud, rescued from the filth. Only later did I realize the meaning didn’t matter. What mattered was the sound. “Audrey.” It sounds a lot like “Oddity.” I was, and always would be, the odd one out. My lifelong nemesis is Claire. A name that means “clear, bright.” A name Warren and Helen chose together, filled with their hopes and dreams. Everything she had, everything she would ever have, was supposed to be mine. She had a cunning that she masked with a clumsy, innocent facade, but I could never beat her. In the end, I lost. I didn’t want to fight anymore. I was just so tired. I could no longer feel even a sliver of joy from the scraps of affection they threw my way. “Claire!” Helen instinctively shot up from the sofa and started towards her, then remembered. She stopped, turning to give the nanny behind Claire a complicated look. The nanny just lowered her head, looking distressed. Claire walked right up to me. Like we were born to be enemies, she noticed me immediately. Or maybe it was just that, in this palace of wealth, I was impossible to miss. A little beggar. Even her nanny was dressed better than me. She rubbed her eyes, still red from crying, and her voice was perfectly, childishly innocent. “Who are you? Are you the new cleaner’s daughter?” The exact same words as last time. Warren, Helen, and Evan hadn’t reacted yet. Everyone in the room was just watching us, like an audience. What did I do last time? Oh, right. Last time, I was so scared I plopped right onto the floor. Overwhelmed, my only clear thought was how soft the floor was. It was covered in a beautiful, plush rug, softer than the sand after the tide goes out. First impressions are everything. Claire had the ultimate advantage. From our very first meeting, I had already lost. She was pale, delicate, and lovable. I was sallow, skinny, and pathetic. This time, tears streamed down my face. My voice was small and timid. “Did… did my mommy sell me here? She said if I wasn’t good, she would sell me.” “Marina was good. I was good.” I choked back my sobs, putting on the best performance I could for the audience—a child terrified, but trying desperately to be brave. This was Claire’s signature move. It always triggered everyone’s pity, making them feel like she was the most pitiful creature on earth. I scorned it in my last life, but now? It’s actually kind of fun to try. She was never that smart. Her tactics were clumsy, relying entirely on that so-called… protagonist aura… to win the sympathy of idiots. I’d suffered so much because of it. Now, I wanted her to have a taste of her own medicine. An eye for an eye, isn’t it? From the sofa, I heard Helen’s heartbroken sob. I felt a wave of self-loathing. Is she really that sad? Does she have any idea she’ll be one of the people who pushes me to my death? That she’ll stand by and watch as Claire steals every single thing that belongs to me? I looked at Claire. Her focus was entirely on me. A small smile flickered at the corner of her mouth. My pitiful state clearly pleased her. Like a princess, she looked down on me, so much smaller and thinner than her. She spoke, as if granting me a great favor. “You’re so pathetic. I’ll talk to my mommy. You can be my personal maid.” I had to hide my laughter at her clownish performance. I was just waiting for the real boss to arrive. 4 “Insolence!” A woman in her sixties, radiating an aura of old-money elegance, swept in through the front door. An assistant holding a briefcase followed her. The moment she spoke, the grand hall fell silent. Even Helen stopped crying. “Grandma~” A sweet, sugary voice. Claire lifted the hem of her dress and trotted over. It was obvious she was a favorite. But, to her dismay, the matriarch she adored walked right past her and knelt in front of the little beggar. Grandma stroked my matted hair, her smile surprisingly gentle. “What’s your name?” I dropped the act. My voice was calm. “My name is Marina.” I pointed at Claire, who was standing a few feet away, frozen. “Are you hiring me to be her personal maid?” My voice cracked, and I started crying again, as if I’d been deeply wronged. “Can I say no? I don’t want to be anyone’s maid.” “The money my mommy took for selling me… I’ll pay you back. I’ll pay you back double when I grow up.” I choked on the words. In my last life, Grandma was the only one immune to Claire’s protagonist aura. She was the only one who watched me grow, saw my efforts, and actually praised me. Of course. I’m not delusional enough to think I can beat Claire’s aura. But Grandma is a woman who values two things above all: bloodline and the family’s interests. She’ll dote on you if you have Ashford blood, and she’ll discard you if you don’t. To hold onto that one sliver of support, I worked myself to the bone. I became the perfect granddaughter she wanted. But even then, I could never outweigh Claire in everyone else’s hearts. I still fell for every one of Claire’s flimsy traps. In the end, I must have disappointed her, too. “Good girl,” she said, her voice firm. “Of course you won’t be a maid. Do you know who you are? You are my real granddaughter. You are the princess of the Ashford family.” She said it for me. But she also said it for everyone else in that room. “Grandma! No! I’m your granddaughter!” Claire ran over and threw her arms around her. The assistant at her side instinctively pulled Claire off. Claire just struggled and wailed, her cries becoming hysterical. Helen, too, was covering her mouth, tears streaming. Grandma stood up, took my hand, and led me to the sofa. “Marina is an Ashford. The DNA results are back. A 99.9% match.” The assistant, free of Claire, opened his briefcase and took out the paternity test. Claire seized the opportunity and ran to Helen, who hugged her tightly, both of them crying. I felt nothing. In my last life, this scene played out constantly. It always ended with them blaming me. Be more tolerant, Audrey. Claire has been through so much, why can’t you just be the bigger person? What they really meant was: Why did you have to be the real one? You’re ruining my perfect mother-daughter relationship with Claire. “An Ashford, lost for four years,” Grandma said, her voice like steel. “I suspect this ‘swap’ wasn’t an accident. If it was a simple mistake, there’s nothing to be done. But if it was deliberate… this family will not be made fools of.” She shot a cold glance at the sobbing Claire. “Furthermore, this child, Marina, has suffered for four years in Claire’s place. I don’t care about scandals or gossip. Find a good day, make the announcement, and restore Marina’s proper identity.” “Warren. You’re the father. You decide.” The man who had been silent on the sofa finally nodded, his expression severe. He glanced at his wife. “Fine. I’ll have my team handle it this week. In the meantime, let… Marina… rest and recover here.” “As for Claire…” Grandma cut him off. “It’s not that this family can’t afford to raise another child. But Audrey and Claire… their identities are awkward. Claire has occupied Audrey’s place for four years, enjoyed everything that was Audrey’s. It’s time for her to go back where she belongs.” “We don’t know what dirty tricks those Baxter people pulled, but even if the child is innocent, the Ashfords are not unfeeling. We can set up a trust for Claire. It will be enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life.” She looked at me, then back at them, decisive. “The children are still young. It’s best to correct this now.” In Helen’s arms, Claire didn’t seem to understand everything, but she knew she was being sent away. She started screaming, begging “Mommy” and “Daddy” not to abandon her, promising she’d be good and eat all her vegetables. Evan just stood by her, rubbing her back to calm her down. I stared at my dirty sandals, feeling absolutely no hope. I already knew how this farce would end. Helen couldn’t stand Claire’s heart-wrenching cries. And Warren, deep down, was a romantic who always indulged his wife. In the end, Claire stayed. It wasn’t even difficult. They decided we would live as “fraternal twins.” She would be the eldest daughter, I would be the second. Helen gave me a guilty look, then immediately looked back down at Claire in her arms, her eyes full of love. “Mom… what if… what if we let Claire stay? I’ve raised her for four years. She’s my daughter, too.” “Four years… that’s over a thousand days of being her mother. I didn’t know… I always thought she was mine. I gave her the best of everything…” “This was all a terrible mistake, it must mean Claire and our family are destined to be together. It’s not like we can’t afford one more child.” “And Marina… Audrey… she needs time to adjust. Wouldn’t it be better for her to have a sister?” I blinked, fighting the urge to laugh. She’s the daughter you raised for four years. But me? Your actual daughter? I didn’t get your love. I suffered for four years in her place. And now, I’m expected to “understand” your feelings and graciously accept the girl who stole my life? Not a chance in hell. I tugged on Grandma’s skirt. She looked down at me, pausing before she could reply to Helen. “I’m hot,” I said. Everyone looked at me. It was August, sweltering. The villa’s central air was humming, but I was wearing a threadbare, fleece-lined shirt that was meant for late autumn, the sleeves hanging past my hands. It’s safe to say Claire’s biological parents, the Baxters, never bought me a single item of clothing after they swapped us. I wore whatever their relatives’ kids grew out of. Didn’t matter if it was for a boy or a girl, too big or too small. As long as I wasn’t naked. The assistant heard me and asked Grandma if he should take me to change. Grandma nodded, but I immediately thrashed and refused. She looked puzzled, but there was a more pressing issue at hand. She just told the assistant to roll up my sleeves to help me cool down. In front of everyone, the assistant pushed up the long, filthy sleeve. And revealed my arm. Covered in bruises. Big ones, small ones, yellow, purple, and black. Someone in the room gasped. Helen pushed Claire away and lunged at me, but Grandma was faster. She blocked Helen, gripping my arm gently, her voice shaking with rage. “What is this? Marina, you tell Grandma. Who did this to you?” Helen stood just behind her, sobbing, covering her mouth, wanting to get closer but unable to.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385940”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Five years after our breakup, Harrison Chase was worth billions and had a beautiful fiancée. At a reunion, someone brought me up. “Elara never comes to these things. What’s she so busy with?” “Hah. She’s busy hitting on rich guys at 30,000 feet.” “…On a plane?” “Yep. She’s a flight attendant for Crestview. I saw her on a flight. You should have seen the way she smiled at the business-class guys. So fake.” “Seriously? A flight attendant? Figures. She always loved money.” At the head of the table, Harrison, who hadn’t spoken, squinted. His hand clenched into a fist. “A flight attendant?” “Yeah, Harrison. After all these years, you’re not still hung up on her, are you?” He reached over and took his fiancée’s hand. The massive diamond on her finger blinded everyone in the room. “Forgot her ages ago. My wedding is next month. You’re all invited.” The table erupted in congratulations. Only I, floating in the corner, looked down. 2 It’s been a year since I died. The old class group chat organized a reunion. The moment they heard Harrison Chase—the tech billionaire—was attending, the chat exploded. Thirty different profile pictures, all active. Only mine was grayed out, silent at the bottom of the list. I’m dead, after all. I can’t use a phone anymore. The empty apartment was just as I’d left it. On my desk, my old anti-cancer meds were still sitting there. On the day of the reunion, I drifted over. It was a huge private room at a seven-star hotel. I floated around, looking at everyone. Finally, the last person arrived. I held my breath. That tall frame, the long legs… it was Harrison. He was wearing a bespoke European suit—understated, but impeccably tailored. I stared, mesmerized. A second later, a beautiful woman appeared at the door and took his arm. “Harrison, are these all your old classmates?” My breath hitched. At the party, everyone was drinking, laughing, and networking, but mostly, they were all trying to get close to Harrison. Suddenly, someone scanned the room. “Is Elara the only one who didn’t show?” “Please. She vanished after graduation. Who knows what she’s up to.” “Even Harrison, a literal tech god, shows up on TV now and then. She’s the real mystery. Probably married some rich guy and became a trophy wife.” The gossip flew. Finally, the class social chair, Liv, who hadn’t said a word, took a sip of her wine. “Trophy wife? More like serving trophy wives. She’s a flight attendant for Crestview Air. Busy as hell.” Liv was beautiful, married to some minor tech exec. I’d served her and her husband on a flight about a year ago. “You’ve seen her?” Everyone was curious now. “A flight attendant? That’s one way to meet rich guys. She’s a quick thinker, I’ll give her that.” “Crestview? How come I’ve never seen her?” “Crestview is famous for having the most gorgeous crews.” “I’ll have to book a flight with them sometime…” As they talked, I looked over at Harrison. He was silent, his expression dark. The hand resting on the arm of his chair was clenched so tight the veins were popping. The class president, sitting next to him, saw his fist and quickly signaled for everyone to shut up. He raised his glass to Harrison. “To Harrison. Some people just aren’t worth remembering.” Harrison didn’t move. He just sat there, frozen. The whole room held its breath. Beside him, his beautiful fiancée looked uncomfortable. She gently placed her hand on his. A few seconds later, he snapped out of it. He picked up his glass and touched it to the president’s. “Forgot her ages ago.” He took a sip of wine, then covered her hand with his. “I have good news. My wedding is next month. I hope you all can come.” 3 That night, I drifted aimlessly through the city. I was exhausted. I floated back to my apartment. A light was on. Strange. It was Sarah. My best friend. She had a bucket of water and was cleaning my apartment. My old phone was on the table, plugged in. She worked in silence. My eyes burned. Suddenly, my phone buzAzed. She put down the mop and picked it up. It was the class group chat. “Mr. Chase, what’s the exact date for the wedding? And where’s the venue?” Someone else posted a photo from the party. Harrison and his fiancée, Tessa, sitting together. “Look at them! A perfect match. So beautiful.” “A thousand times better than someone we know. All looks, no substance.” Thud. Sarah’s hand trembled, and the phone fell to the floor. She slowly sank to her knees, covered her face, and started to sob. She opened my photo album, her fingers tracing my smiling face. “You idiot,” she whispered. “He’s getting married. Did you know? And you… you were whispering his name right up until the end.” Sarah turned off the phone and went back to cleaning. When she left, she took my phone with her. I didn’t understand. I followed her back to her apartment. Being alone in that empty place was unbearable. The only thing I looked forward to was Sarah visiting once a month, charging my phone. When it lit up with notifications, I could read them. It was my only connection. My only entertainment, now that I was dead. 4 Sarah was poor, even more so than I was. She was a single mom. Her daughter had a congenital heart defect. She put the phone down and went to put her daughter to bed. I couldn’t sleep. I floated around her apartment. Finally, a screen lit up. It was my phone. A news alert. I froze at the headline. #Aura Dynamics CEO in Late-Night Accident on I-5, Vehicle Strikes Guardrail# Harrison was the CEO of Aura Dynamics. The accident was on the freeway, near the bridge. Was he hurt? I didn’t wait. I flew, as fast as my spirit could move, toward the bridge. The section of the freeway was blocked off. A mangled Maybach was crumpled against the guardrail. My heart (or what was left of it) pounded. I phased through the crowd, looking for him. He wasn’t there. I was frantic. “Mr. Harrison, your arm is bleeding. I’m taking you to the hospital.” I spun around. He was sitting on the pavement, away from the wreck. His arm was hanging at his side, blood dripping from his knuckles. It hurt to see. He didn’t say a word. He just got into the car that had arrived for him.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385956”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Leo Hayes and I are Hollywood’s resident cautionary tales. He famously blew up his career for the one that got away; I built mine writing songs for a man who would never love me back. He throws money and resources at his past, I write power ballads about mine. We’re a matching set, a pair of aces in the art of getting our hearts broken publicly. And then, one night, we accidentally fell into bed together. Which led to us accidentally, and secretly, getting married. Which led to this: the four of us—Leo and me, his ghost of girlfriends past, and my great unrequited love—all trapped on the same reality TV show. After finishing a challenge, acting like strangers, Leo and I leaned in and, out of pure habit, kissed right in front of the cameras. That night, the internet didn’t just break; it threw a goddamn parade. #LetThemHaveEachOther became the number one trending topic worldwide. 1 The penthouse suite smelled of Le Labo and last night’s mistakes. My body was a dull, pleasant ache, and the space beside me on the bed was still warm. My phone was vibrating itself off the nightstand, a relentless assault of texts from my agent, Cass. I played dead for a few seconds, but the moment I reached for the phone, a subtle, full-body stiffness reminded me exactly why I was so sore. “The goddamn internet is on fire! Can you give me one week of peace? Just one?!” I sat up, the sheet pooling around my waist. “Bullshit. There’s no way the paparazzi got pictures.” A chart-topping singer and an Oscar-winning actor leaving the same hotel? I could already imagine the TMZ headline. It would be explosive. “No way?” Cass’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Lia, the entire world knows about your pathetic obsession with Ethan Cole.” A wave of relief washed over me, so potent I fell back against the pillows. Thank god. “So what’s the headline?” I asked, feeling like I’d just dodged a bullet. “‘Lia Valentine: Hollywood’s Most Pathetic Hopeless Romantic.’” The afterglow of the night was still humming through my veins. I stalled, needing a moment to clear my head. “What do you mean, ‘most’?” “Because Leo Hayes is a close second,” she shot back. “You two are the king and queen of bad decisions.” Just as she said his name, I heard footsteps approaching from the adjoined room. The man himself appeared, a towel slung low on his hips, his hair wet from the shower. Water droplets trickled down his sculpted chest. I looked up, and my gaze met the sharp, devastatingly handsome face of Leo Hayes. 2 Leo Hayes made his debut at eighteen. In the decade since, he’d collected two Oscars. His career was the stuff of legends, a smooth, glittering ascent that made him the fantasy of millions. His only blemish, the only crack in his perfect facade, was the fact that he was, like me, a notorious romantic. One week ago, Leo was nominated for another major international film award. One night ago, he’d accidentally ended up in my bed, where we’d spent hours lost in each other, forgetting the world existed. He’d whispered my name—Ava—in a voice thick with passion, and I’d sobbed out his—Ethan. Cass was still ranting on the phone. “Where are you? Why are you so calm about this?” My eyes fixed on a faint lipstick smudge on Leo’s neck. Because I’m about to give you something much, much bigger to worry about, I thought. “I wasn’t with Ethan last night,” I said. “Just kill the story. You know the drill.” The call ended. I was wearing nothing but Leo Hayes’s blazer, my bare shoulders a canvas of red marks. The silence in the room was thick enough to hear our own breathing. After a moment, he walked over and draped a soft blanket over my shoulders. “You were still asleep when I went to the shower,” Leo said, his voice a calm, low rumble as he knelt to look at me. “You should go wash up.” His dark eyes were impossibly deep. I nodded, but when I tried to stand, my legs gave out. 3 Leo caught me in an instant, his body a wall of warmth and damp heat. The moment our bare skin touched, we both froze, the intoxicating memory of the previous night flooding back. He pulled back slightly, his gaze dropping to my legs. The tips of his ears turned a faint pink. “Is it okay if I carry you?” he asked softly. My answer was to wrap my arms around his neck. We’d already slept together. There was no point in being shy now. Leo Hayes’s official bio listed him at six-foot-two. He was all long legs, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist—a living mannequin. He’d played a soldier, was a fitness fanatic, and had a body that kept him on the top of every luxury brand’s wish list. I’d had the pleasure of experiencing it firsthand last night. His fans’ nickname for him, “The Greek God,” was no exaggeration. As I rested my head against his chest, I had to admit it was true. Leo’s status in the industry was so high that he was practically a recluse, avoiding the Hollywood circus outside of mandatory events. I’d rarely crossed paths with him. At the few galas we’d both attended, he was always surrounded, a remote, unattainable star. But this man, the one holding me now, was surprisingly gentle. He placed me carefully in the large soaking tub and adjusted the water temperature until it was perfect. “Call me if you need anything,” he said, his hair still messy, his features sharp and intense. “I’ll be right outside.” The door clicked shut. As I sank into the warm water, my mind drifted to a movie I’d seen when I was twenty. A Life in Three Acts. It was the film that won Leo his first Oscar. He played a man who accidentally betrayed the woman he loved, a character torn apart by guilt and morality. I let out a small, ironic laugh. For an actor of his caliber, this situation probably felt like method acting. 4 It took me a long time to get clean, and by the time I emerged, my patience had worn thin. A fresh set of clothes was waiting for me. Next to them, a glass of water and the morning-after pill. Leo handed them to me. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice gentle. “In our line of work, we have to be careful.” The veins on the back of his hand stood out as he held the glass, his tone leaving no room for argument. I didn’t waste time. I swallowed the pill and downed the water. “What if it doesn’t work?” I asked. Too much time had passed. I loved my life, and a baby wasn’t part of the plan. But I needed to know where he stood. “Your wishes are all that matter. I will take full responsibility and provide the best possible compensation.” The belt of his robe was loosely tied, revealing the faint scratches on his abdomen. He leaned against the kitchen island, arms crossed, his gaze direct and unwavering. “I don’t know how your key card got mixed up, but that doesn’t matter now,” he continued, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you’re pregnant, it’s your choice. Whether you want to keep it, who raises it—it’s all up to you. I will respect every decision and offer unconditional financial and professional support.” He really was as decent as his reputation suggested. A true gentleman. “It takes two to tango,” he added, “but at the end of the day, I was the one who walked into the wrong suite.” My hips ached and my legs felt like jelly. Last night, all reason had evaporated. I glanced at the man across from me and sank onto the sofa. I pressed a hand to my stomach. His persona was all cool self-control, but in bed, Leo Hayes was an entirely different animal. “Let’s just,” I paused, “call this a one-time thing. A crazy night that never happened.” 5 Leo’s head was bowed, hiding his expression. “Let’s exchange numbers,” he said after a moment of silence, picking up his phone from the island. “You can contact me if anything comes up.” I raised an eyebrow. Everyone in the business knew Leo Hayes came from a powerful family and had access to the best resources in the industry. I’d hit it big with my debut single, but our professional circles were worlds apart. We’d never had a reason to connect. Besides, more than his legendary career, my primary impression of him was the same one the public had of me. One of Hollywood’s most notorious hopeless romantics. His story was as well-known as my five-year public pursuit of Ethan Cole, the CEO of Azure Media. Three years ago, at the absolute peak of his fame, Leo had announced an indefinite hiatus from acting—all for a young starlet named Ava Brooks. A workaholic giving up his career for love, a high-profile declaration, a massive fan exodus—it was spectacular. He only returned to the screen a year ago, after the tabloids reported their breakup. And in less than ten months, he was already nominated for another major award for a gritty indie film. It was at his welcome-home party that he and I had, by some cosmic joke, ended up in bed together. I pulled out my phone, thinking with a cynical smirk that at least I got something out of it. A fantastic night and a powerful new contact. I ignored the dozens of notifications and held my screen out for him to scan. Just then, two new messages from Cass popped up, in full view of both of us. [Your scandal just got buried by Leo Hayes’s.] [His is way bigger. You hopeless romantics have to stick together, I guess.] I froze. As if on cue, Leo’s phone began to vibrate violently. 6 It was Marcus, Leo’s legendary agent. While he took the call, I quickly went online to catch up. An hour ago, I was the top story. The infamous gossip site, LA Buzz, had posted: Lia Valentine finally gets her man? The accompanying photo was a cleverly angled shot of Ethan and me from the party last night. It looked like we were kissing. It was a beautiful photo, capturing the elegant line of Ethan’s jaw. He looked refined, handsome. I was looking up at him, a focused, adoring smile on my face. The comments were brutal. Trolls called me a desperate stalker, while my fans fought a losing battle in the replies, begging me to have some self-respect. But that wasn’t the main event anymore. I clicked on the new, blazing red headline. #LeoAndAvaBackTogether It was another post from LA Buzz. No text this time, just a short surveillance video. A man and a woman, locked in a passionate kiss, stumbled down a hotel corridor and into a suite. The clip was over a minute long, a desperate, breathless tangle of limbs. The man’s larger frame completely obscured the woman, her face never visible. All you could see were her pointed toes, her long hair swinging around her waist, and the man’s hand gripping that waist, the veins on his arm stark and possessive. It was raw, so intense you could practically hear the wet sound of their kisses. It was the kind of video that made you blush. I covered my face, a wave of horror washing over me as I recognized it. It was from last night. It was me and Leo Hayes. I looked up. The man from the video was standing right in front of me. “We need to talk,” Leo said, his expression unreadable. 7 “I swear, I didn’t leak that video.” “I know,” Leo said, surprisingly calm. “You haven’t exactly had the time.” My mind flashed with images of the various positions we’d been in, and I winced. “…” “I’ll handle the trending topics,” he said. “And I took care of the one about you and Ethan Cole while I was at it.” Saving money was always a plus. “Thanks,” I said briskly. Leo glanced at me and held out his phone again. We finally added each other as contacts. As he typed in my name, a belated wave of awkwardness washed over me. Out of habit, to prevent being photographed, the heavy blackout curtains remained drawn, casting the room in a cool, dim light. We were both in bathrobes, our bodies marked by each other. Every time our eyes met, the memories of the night before came rushing back. The kisses, the embraces, his low, seductive whispers, my own helpless crying. We both knew it was more than just a spiked drink. We were adults. In the latter half of the night, we had both been willing participants, a mix of pure indulgence and a shared decision to see it through. A tense, electric ambiguity began to warm the air. “We should leave at different times,” Leo said, standing up first. “And like I said, if you need anything, just contact me.” I was alone in the master suite when Cass called again. “I can’t take it anymore,” she said, her voice strained. “When are you finally leaving Azure Media?” 8 My pursuit of Ethan Cole had been a public spectacle for five years. Three years ago, I’d given up plans to launch my own independent label and instead signed with his company, Azure Media. I was at a critical point in my career, and the move cost me a huge chunk of my fanbase. But I wasn’t a manufactured pop idol; I was a songwriter, young and arrogant, buoyed by real talent. I went on to release two more bestselling albums. My remaining fans, in an act of collective self-soothing, convinced themselves I was just there for artistic inspiration. For years, I’d been the golden goose, bringing Azure countless successful projects and massive revenue. But behind the scenes, I’d paid a heavy price. “What’s wrong?” I asked softly. “Didn’t the story get taken down?” “The watch endorsement—the full line,” Cass said with a cold laugh. “Your beloved CEO gave it to Ava Brooks.” Ava Brooks. The current “it girl.” The woman Leo Hayes had given up his career for. His great, idealized love. For some reason, instead of anger, I felt a strange sense of dark humor. This town was too small. We were all just actors in the same ridiculous play. “What the hell are you laughing at?” Cass snapped. “That son of a bitch has been trying to sideline you for months. Ava signing with Azure after her ‘reunion’ with Leo? He brought her in specifically to replace you.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “If you didn’t pay me so damn well, and if every lovesick song you write for him didn’t turn to gold, I would’ve been gone so long ago!” I was shaking with laughter. It took me a moment to catch my breath. “Don’t worry, Cass. Ava and Leo aren’t back together.” “How would you know? Did you see how fast he killed that story? Who else could make him move like that besides Ava?” Because he just climbed out of my bed. “Get the paperwork ready,” I said. “It’s time to start my own studio.” 9 On the drive to Azure Media’s headquarters, I thought about how Ethan and I had met. He discovered me. In my early days, trying to make it in music, my family had all but cut me off. I was broke, playing for tips in smoky bars, when Ethan found me. He gave me money, poured resources into my first album, and launched my career into the stratosphere. He was five years older than me, handsome, elegant, wealthy—and a staunch bachelor. Cass always said he’d intentionally cultivated my crush on him. A damn shame he was a coward. He’d reeled me in but refused to either commit or cut me loose, leaving me hanging in limbo. I didn’t used to care. Maybe it was an occupational hazard for a songwriter, but my emotions were always intense. If I loved, I pursued. If I hated, I walked away. All or nothing. So I let him play his games, let my heart be trampled, let the world laugh at me. They were my choices, and I could live with the consequences. But even the most resilient heart gets tired of being taken for granted. Ethan was expecting me. He handed me a cup of freshly brewed tea. He was always like that—thoughtful and gentle in every small way, yet incredibly stingy with the things that truly mattered. I got straight to the point. “My endorsement. Why did you give it to Ava?” “I had to give her a welcome gift for signing with us,” he said, his voice low and persuasive. “Lia, just do this for me, okay? As a favor.” I looked at his handsome face and thought, He’s always so sure I’ll say yes. Time after time, his reassurances had become more and more perfunctory. I smiled, a hollow ache spreading through my chest, like an old wound being torn open. It hurt so much my voice came out raspy. And I gave him the same answer I always did. “Okay.” 10 “I’ll make it up to you,” Ethan said warmly. “There’s a spot for you on Pacific Challenge, the network’s biggest reality show. You’ll be a main cast member.” The discomfort from last night lingered in my body. I sipped my tea, my eyes downcast. “Why her? Why Ava?” Ava was a natural talent, one of those actresses blessed by the gods. She hadn’t made many films, but nearly every one was a classic. Her personality was as bright and fiery as her fame. Three years ago, she and Leo had been cast as leads in a romance, and their on-screen love had spilled into real life. After Leo stepped away for her, Ava remained in the spotlight—not for her acting, but for a string of high-profile flings. I remembered clearly that among the men she was rumored to be with, Ethan had once been photographed with her at a hotel. “The company’s focus for the second half of the year is film investment,” he said with a smile. Then his eyes fell on me, and he paused. “Lia, where were you yesterday?” I looked down and saw it: a faint mark on my collarbone, just visible past the edge of my silk scarf. I adjusted the scarf. “Does it matter to you?” Ethan was taken aback. In all the years I’d chased him, I’d never spoken to him with that tone. But he recovered quickly, smiling. “Still the same little hothead, aren’t you?” His voice became soft, coaxing. “Don’t be mad. I know I’ve been neglecting you lately. That’s my fault.” He brushed his fingers against my palm. “Come over tonight?” There it was again. The slap, then the candy. All of it predicated on the fact that he knew I loved him, giving him license to treat my heart like a plaything. Before, it had been a game I was willing to play. But now— I pulled my hand away. “No, thanks. You’re busy. I should go.” 11 As I walked out of the Azure building, a message popped up on my phone. It was one of a dozen from my mother. “Just meet him. Our families are partners on this project, and he’s in your industry. It won’t kill you to have one dinner.” My career had been stable for years, and as I’d gotten older, the frosty relationship with my family had started to thaw. But the constant pressure to agree to an arranged marriage made me wish we were still estranged. Every part of my body ached. Leo Hayes was an animal in bed. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. The buyout clause in my contract with Azure was steep. I could afford it, but it would be a devastating financial hit. I had an album to release and a whole team of people who depended on me. I typed out a reply, word by word. “Fine. Let me know when and where.” This whole arrangement was born from a massive real estate development deal. My older siblings were already married, leaving me as the only age-appropriate match for the other family’s youngest son. Business is business, I thought grimly. You get your hands dirty one way or another. If this marriage worked, my family would cover the exorbitant contract buyout. I scheduled a doctor’s appointment. The results were clear. As I was leaving the clinic, a message from Leo came in. “Do you need to get a full check-up?” I raised an eyebrow and replied, “Thanks, I already did.” He didn’t write back. Online, every trace of that explosive kissing video had been scrubbed from the internet. I’d seen it before, but it was still staggering to witness the efficiency of Leo Hayes’s team. Of course, that level of damage control had previously been reserved exclusively for Ava Brooks. Today, I’d gotten a taste of it. On the way home, I called Cass. “I know you’ve been waiting for this,” I said with a smile. “It’s officially time to burn it all down with Ethan.” 12 The day I was scheduled to meet my prospective fiancé, my new independent studio’s official social media accounts went live. The news spread like wildfire through gossip blogs and fan communities. The internet was in an uproar. Ethan called me relentlessly. I didn’t answer once. The meeting was at a serene, traditional teahouse, set in a private garden that I was told belonged to the family. While I waited, I reviewed what little I knew about my future husband. The Rhodes family. A real estate empire, one of the most powerful names in the city. Their youngest son, like me, was a rebel who’d gone into entertainment. He couldn’t be very famous, though. I’d been in this business for years and had never heard of a major star named Rhodes. The sound of approaching footsteps broke my train of thought. I looked up, and my eyes widened in disbelief. The man walking toward me was tall and lean, dressed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans, a sleek watch on his wrist. It was a casual outfit, but there was nothing casual about that handsome face. Leo Hayes. The A-list actor who, just one week ago, had been whispering in my ear as we lay tangled in my sheets. His usual cool expression was touched with genuine surprise. He paused for a beat before saying, “Long time no see.” “Not that long,” I said, unable to suppress a smile. The world was ridiculously small. “Your last name isn’t Hayes?” “I use my mother’s surname professionally,” he said, taking the seat across from me. “I had no idea the marriage was arranged with you.” “I didn’t either.” “After that day,” Leo asked, his voice softening, “did you get checked out? Did you feel okay?” I looked at him, his dark hair falling casually across his forehead, a relaxed charm in his sharp features. He had the captivating aura of a mature, confident man. “I’m fine,” I said with a small smile, a spark of mischief igniting in me. “Although, it’s a little too soon to know if I’m pregnant or not.” Leo didn’t smile back. He looked at me, his gaze serious and intense. “Lia Valentine, will you consider marrying me?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385978”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I had just been reunited with the biological parents who lost me twenty years ago. Before I could feel a single shred of their love, I was tricked into leaving the country by Maya, the “fake daughter” they’d raised. She didn’t just tell my parents I’d run away; she tore up my passport. She sold me to a human trafficking compound, her jealous, twisted face smiling as she said: “A piece of trash like you belongs in the gutter!” As a group of men closed in on me, I stared at the uniforms they were wearing and froze. That wasn’t just a random logo. It was the logo of Donovan Holdings—the company belonging to the adoptive parents who had raised me for twenty years. 1 “I swear to God, if you look at me with those filthy eyes again, I’ll dig them out and feed them to the dogs!” Maya Kensington’s plain face was terrifying when it contorted with rage. “Maya, you’re insane! If Mom and Dad find out you did this, they’ll kill you!” I was struggling against three massive guards, but I was like a baby bird in their grip. My helplessness only made Maya smile wider, so much so that she was trembling. “I’ll tell them you’re just loving life abroad. Having so much fun you’ve decided not to come home.” Maya and I were switched at birth. She’d lived as the Kensington heiress for twenty years before the truth came out. Then I showed up. On the surface, she was all smiles and sisterly kindness. In private, she was a venomous snake. It got worse when our biological parents, Richard and Eleanor, announced my engagement to Cole Hartman. She’d been obsessed with Cole for years. I told her, and them, a dozen times that I had no intention of marrying a stranger. Nobody believed me. They all thought I was just being “shy.” Lately, she’d been so nice. I actually thought she’d finally accepted the truth. So when she suggested a “sisters’ trip” abroad to bond, I agreed. And now, here I was, in a remote compound, my passport shredded. “Maya, if you let me go right now, I can pretend this never happened. But if you don’t—” SLAP! Her hand cracked across my face so hard my lip split. She dug her long nails into my cheeks, drawing blood. “You’re in my world now, Stella,” she hissed, using the name the Kensingtons had given me. “You dare threaten me?” “You planned this,” I spat. “Choosing a remote location, far from the city. It was to make the kidnapping easier.” “You’re not as stupid as you look,” she laughed. “You walked right into the trap. So, you’re going to stay here and earn me some money.” She got back in the car and left. The men threw a deck of cards at my feet. “You’ve got one week to learn how to be a dealer.” I saw the logo on the cards. “This is an illegal casino! I won’t do it! This is a crime!” The leader kicked me in the stomach. Pain exploded, and I collapsed, unable to breathe. He grabbed my hair and hauled me back up. “I wasn’t asking,” he growled. “You’ll do it. But since you’re not the cooperative type, let’s start with a lesson.” A wooden baton slammed into my back. “Ah!” Two hits, and I was already covered in a cold sweat. It was the middle of the night, dead silent. This was not a fight I could win. “How much?” I gasped, tasting blood. “How much money to let me go?” They all burst out laughing. “Money? Do we look like we need money?” The leader sneered. “We’re just following Miss Kensington’s orders. This is just bad luck for you, sweetheart.” They closed in, grinning. “And if you don’t want to deal cards, we’ve got… other jobs. Lots of work for a pretty face.” I was pinned. As I thrashed, I ripped open one of the men’s jackets. My eyes locked on the tattoo on his left shoulder. It was a stylized “D” over a globe. The logo for Donovan Holdings. My adoptive family. Mom, Dad, and my brother Ryan had raised me like a princess since they found me. They’d always sworn to me they were out of “the business.” They didn’t even have a branch in this country. “You’re… you’re Donovan Holdings?” The men glanced at each other. “Huh. She knows the name. Smart.” “I’m Cara!” I screamed, using my real name. “I’m Cara Donovan! The boss’s daughter! You have to let me go! My brother… Ryan… he’ll kill you!” They laughed again. “The boss’s daughter? Nice try. We’ve only got one ‘daughter,’ and that’s Miss Cara. You’re not her.” “I AM CARA!” I was about to tell them to check my ID, but Maya had burned it with my passport. “Call Ryan! Call Ryan Donovan! He’ll know my voice!” My desperation gave them a second’s pause. The leader, “Vince,” pulled out his phone… and called Maya. “Hey, what’s the name of the girl you dropped off?” “Stella Kensington,” Maya’s voice tin-canned from the phone. “Stella is the name my biological family gave me!” I shrieked. “My real name is Cara Donovan!” Ptooey! Vince spit in my face. “You fucking liar! I almost fell for it!” He was furious. He kicked me, again and again, right in the stomach. I threw up, and it was dark with blood. “Please… just call Ryan… he’ll save me…” “Save you? You’re not the ‘daughter,’ you’re the ‘entertainment’!” He dragged me by my hair into a filthy shack. The floor was mud and smelled of mold and human waste. He chained me to a post. The baton came down again, this time with a purpose. He was careful, though. He never hit my face. He was saving my face. For what? The phone rang. Vince answered, “Yes, boss.” He hung up. “Change of plans. She’s not going to the tables. She’s too… recognizable. Put her on the back line.” “Boss, a face like that? It’s a waste.” “Are you questioning me? Her face is the problem. If someone recognizes her, we’re all dead!” “Please!” I grabbed his pants leg. “Call Ryan. You’ll regret this. He’ll kill you all. He loves me.” “Then her face is useless,” Vince muttered, pulling out a knife. He brought the cold steel to my cheek. “Since she’s not dealing…” I bit him. I bit down on his hand, tasting the iron and copper of his skin, and screamed for help. The other men jumped on me. The door was kicked open. “What the hell is taking so long? Get this woman processed!” “Right away!” Vince wiped his bleeding hand on his pants and stepped on my throat. “You bitch! You bit me? I’m going to pull every single one of your goddamn teeth!” They pinned me down. It was hopeless. I was too weak. But I thrashed, kicking, fighting. “Jesus, she’s strong for a little thing!” “Hurry up! The Head is here! He can’t stand this kind of filth!” The Head? Jia-zhu? That’s what they called Ryan. I found a new surge of strength. I bit down on one man’s arm, ripping a piece of flesh free, and at the same time, I kneed another in the face, feeling his nose crunch. As they howled, I scrambled free and ran. There, in the clearing, was a black Bugatti. Ryan’s Bugatti. The one I’d given him for his birthday. The one I’d put stupid, giant eyelashes on the headlights of, as a joke. He’d kept them on. “RYAN!” I sobbed. “RYAN!” He looked over. I saw his head turn. A hand clamped around my throat and yanked me back, dragging me through the mud. “You fucking animal! I’ll teach you!” I broke free one last time, but they were ready. A baton slammed into the side of my head. The world went white, then black. I came to, choking. My mouth was full of sweat and grime. They’d shoved a filthy rag in my mouth. They were holding my hands down. One of them had a pair of pliers. He was aiming for my fingernails. I screamed into the gag, bucking and twisting, but I couldn’t move. He tore one out. The pain was absolute. He tore out another. I passed out. When I woke, I was alone. The pain in my hands was a dull, throbbing fire. My tongue was swollen, my head splitting. I looked at my raw, bloody fingers and a despair so total, so crushing, washed over me. But I wasn’t dead. Not yet. Through a crack in the door, I saw them. Ryan. He was with his security team, and they were leaving. I crawled. The chain around my neck pulled taut. “R-y-a-n!” It was a choked, pathetic noise. I bit my own lip, hard. I needed the pain. “RYAN! BROTHER! HELP ME!” He stopped. “Who was that?” Vince, the man who’d pulled my nails, ran up, bowing and scraping. “Just a new girl, Boss. Being… difficult. We’re handling it.” Ryan frowned. “Who?” “Ah… my wife, Boss. She’s… not happy I’m working for you. Thinks the money’s not as good. Always making a scene.” Ryan’s eyes fell on the bloody trail I’d left. “Boss, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t see this. She… uh… she fell. Broke her leg. Tried to run. We…” Ryan hated this. He hated this entire side of the business. He was here to clean it up. He was about to leave. This was my last chance. I put all my weight against the chain, yanked, and felt the rotten wood splinter. I threw the door open and fell out, grabbing onto his leg. He kicked me. Instinct. He hated being dirty. He kicked me so hard I flew backward. He looked at the blood on his thousand-dollar pants with disgust. But he was looking at me. Vince was faster. He pounced, one hand covering my mouth, the other twisting my hair. I bit him until his hand was a bloody mess, but he didn’t let go. “She’s crazy, Boss! Mental problems! I’ll take care of her!” “Just don’t kill anyone,” Ryan said, his voice cold. “Of course not, Boss. We’re a legitimate operation.” I thrashed, trying to show him my face. But he’d already looked away. “Get it done.” “Yes, Boss. Right away.” Vince dragged me back inside. He looked… impressed. “Twenty years, and you’re the first one who almost got away. You like to scream, huh?” He pulled his knife. “I’ll cut your tongue out. Let’s see you scream then!” “Hold her down!” Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t stop them. This only made them laugh. They had me. They held my head, pried open my jaws. The cold steel touched my tongue. Just then, Maya walked in. She looked absurd in her designer dress, but she held her nose like she owned the place. She walked over, looked down at me, and then hooked a finger in Vince’s belt loop. “What’s taking so long? Get her processed.” Vince grinned, kissing her, his hands disappearing under her dress as I watched. “What’s the rush?” he said, finally coming up for air. “She’s not important. But I heard the Head was here? Ryan Donovan?” Her eyes were greedy. “Heh. Got your sights set on the big boss, huh? You’ll have to get in line. Everyone knows the Head only has eyes for one girl. His sister. Miss Cara. Whatever she says, goes.” “Cara Donovan?” Maya frowned. “I thought no one had ever seen her.” Vince laughed, jabbing a thumb at me. “This psycho claimed she was Cara Donovan.” “Her?” Maya spit on me. “She’s not fit to kiss Cara’s boots!” She took out her phone and snapped a few pictures of me, half-naked and bloody. “This is perfect. Cole will love this. Should I send it to him now, or wait until after my men have had their turn with you?” I couldn’t speak, so I just stared. “Don’t look at me like that.” She was so angry, she grabbed the knife from Vince. “I’ll cut her tongue out myself.” The door flew open again. It was Ryan. He was holding a small, hand-carved silver charm on a broken chain. “Where did this come from?” I started making animal noises, choking, trying to get his attention. Vince’s men gagged me again. “No idea, Boss,” Vince lied. “Someone must have dropped it.” Ryan kicked him in the face, grinding his heel into his cheek. “I’ll ask again. Where?” “I… I don’t know!” Vince screamed as Ryan pulled a knife and drove it straight through his hand, pinning him to the table. “I SWEAR I DON’T KNOW! A car… a car passed by! It must have fallen!” Ryan stared at him for a full minute, then slowly turned his gaze to me. “Who. Is. She.” Vince, bleeding and terrified, stammered that I was just a girl who’d been “dropped off.” Ryan walked toward me. Each step was a hammer blow to my heart. He tilted my chin up with his boot. I gagged, trying to spit the rag out, trying to make him see me. Then he kicked me away. “Filthy.” He turned to leave. I lunged. I grabbed his leg, bit down on his knee, and as he roared and looked down, I spat the gag out. My jaw was locked, I couldn’t speak. So I held up my hand. I held up my right hand, my index finger pointing at his face. He froze.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385994”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The check for my dad’s settlement had just cleared when the first line of text scrolled across my vision, a ghostly caption overlaid on the real world. 【Wow, the side character is such a simp. She’s even willing to use her dead dad’s money to get the guy.】 【What’s the point? It all goes to the main character in the end anyway. Serves her right for not knowing her place.】 A split second later, Ethan came barreling around the corner, out of breath. “Did you get it? The money? Give it to me, I have to pay my tuition deposit before the deadline.” I instinctively moved the hand holding the envelope behind my back and shook my head. 1 【What is she waiting for? Just give him the money!】 【How is he supposed to go to college without it?】 【This is so frustrating. I wish I could reach into the story and slap some sense into her.】 I stared at the captions as they refreshed, a cold understanding dawning on me. I wasn’t just me. I was a character in a book. A disposable one. The designated stepping-stone. My entire purpose was to give up my own chance at college, using my father’s life insurance payout to fund the male lead’s education. I was supposed to stay behind in our dead-end town, taking care of Ethan’s parents and helping with their failing farm. He’d promise me over and over that he’d marry me after graduation. But the story didn’t end there. The moment he had his degree, he’d cut me loose. He wouldn’t just leave; he would accuse me of trying to buy his love, of trapping him with money. Then he’d make a grand public spectacle of marrying his one true love, the story’s real heroine, turning me into the town joke. In the end, I was left with nothing. Every sacrifice I made was just to pave the way for her. Worse than being broke and alone, I was twisted into the “crazy, bitter ex-girlfriend,” the villain everyone loved to hate. And the grand finale? The happy couple gets their fairy-tale ending. Meanwhile, a tumor bloomed in my breast, fed by bitterness and stress. With no money for treatment, I was written out of the story with a quiet, lonely death. The hero and heroine would weep with joy. “That evil woman finally got what she deserved.” I read it all in a flash. And I thought: The hell with that. Like I would ever be that pathetic. Like I would burn my own life down just to light the way for those two assholes. Ethan noticed my silence. His impatience flared. “Leah, what are you spacing out for?” he snapped. “I’ve told you a million times, senior year is everything. Every second counts. Do you have any idea what you’ll do to my future if you make me miss this deadline?” He looked at me, his expression radiating a sense of absolute entitlement. “I’m not like you. It doesn’t matter if you get into college or not with your grades. I’m this town’s only real hope. Can’t you see the bigger picture for once?” It was the way he said it, so matter-of-fact. As if my life was a foregone conclusion, a minor detail in his grand story. As if I were a traitor to our entire community for not handing over my father’s legacy without a second thought. I had to physically restrain myself from laughing in his face. Instead, I kept my expression blank. “Oh, you mean my dad’s settlement money?” I said, my voice flat. “They said there’s a delay. It hasn’t come through yet.” Please. Wouldn’t that money be better spent on my own college education? Why would I give it to this ungrateful parasite? 2 As if on cue, a soft voice drifted from behind us. “Ethan…” Hannah appeared, as if summoned. Like every girl-next-door fantasy, she had a wholesome beauty and eyes that swam with a kind of curated vulnerability. The kind of look that made every man instantly want to be her protector. Right now, those big, innocent eyes were fixed on us, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “If she doesn’t want to, you shouldn’t force her,” she murmured, her voice full of gentle reason. Ethan whipped his head back to me, his face a mask of indignation. “Is what she’s saying true? Are you lying to me, Leah?” I gave him a look that said, Believe whatever you want. I waved a dismissive hand. “Think what you want.” He seemed genuinely shocked that I would dare use that tone with him. He opened his mouth, a hot retort on his lips, then seemed to swallow it down. He turned his attention back to soothing Hannah. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “She wouldn’t dare. I’m going to college, one way or another. And when I do, you and I…” He remembered I was standing right there and cut himself off. Hannah, ever the gracious one, put on a show of magnanimity. “Leah is so lucky,” she sighed. “If I had a boyfriend as brilliant as you, Ethan, I’d be smiling in my sleep.” She had no idea that the captions had already shown me everything. Their secret meetings, the promises they’d made to each other. I’d always wondered why Ethan, who was so obviously infatuated with Hannah, had suddenly started pursuing me. Now it all made sense. My dad had been a supervisor at the plant, a man with connections that could have helped Ethan’s career. That was the only reason. Now that Dad was gone, killed in a workplace accident, the show was over. All Ethan needed was the settlement money from the plant to squeeze the last bit of value out of my family’s tragedy. A wave of disgust washed over me, so strong it was nauseating. I looked at Hannah and said coolly, “You like him? He’s all yours.” 3 They both just stood there, stunned into silence. I didn’t have the patience to stick around for their reaction. I turned and walked away from the two of them as fast as I could. As I got closer to my street, I saw Ethan’s mom holding court with a group of neighborhood gossips on her front lawn. “Our Ethan doesn’t even have to pay for his own schooling,” she was bragging, her voice loud enough for the whole block to hear. “That silly little Leah is just falling all over herself to please him…” “Well, she’s not entirely stupid,” another woman chimed in. “Once Ethan becomes a college man, she’ll get to follow him to the city and live the good life.” “Ha! In her dreams!” Ethan’s mom spat on the ground. “A country girl with a dead father, thinking she can marry up? My Ethan is going to marry a city girl. He’s just playing along with Leah for now. Who else is going to pay for his tuition?” Someone else asked, “I thought Leah’s grades were pretty good, too. What if she gets into a good college? Then they’d both be college students.” Ethan’s mom looked at her with pure contempt. “Her? Not a chance. And even if some miracle happened and she did get in, she couldn’t go. Who would take care of our farm when Ethan’s away studying? Leah’s strong. We’ll just have her stay here and work the fields for us.” My blood ran cold. A chill seeped into my bones. Just to have an extra farmhand, they were willing to sabotage my entire life. To turn me from a promising student into a woman breaking her back in the dirt, only to be thrown away like trash when I was no longer useful. And the most pathetic part? According to the script, I was supposed to let them clip my wings and still be grateful for it. I almost choked on my own rage. Then, I squared my shoulders and walked directly toward the group. Ethan’s mom was still talking, her expression animated. When she turned and saw me, her eyes flickered with guilt. The conversation died instantly. I acted like I hadn’t heard a thing, putting on my friendliest smile. “Afternoon, Mrs. Reed,” I said brightly. “I just wanted to let you know, I saw Mr. Reed’s truck parked down the street, turning into Mrs. Henderson’s driveway again. You might want to go check on that.” The effect was immediate. A wave of awkward, delicious tension rippled through the group. Ethan’s mom’s face went from pale to beet red, her eyes practically shooting flames. Everyone in town knew about her husband and Mrs. Henderson. It was the worst-kept secret in Harmony Creek. By saying it out loud, in front of everyone, I had taken her precious reputation and ground it into the dirt. A second later, she stormed off without another word. 4 First day of senior year. Mr. Davison, the guidance counselor, pulled me aside. “Leah, Ethan Reed is the only one in the senior class who hasn’t paid his student fees. When are you planning on taking care of that for him?” I looked up from the mountain of practice SATs on my desk. “Ethan hasn’t paid his fees? What does that have to do with me?” My response sent a ripple of confused murmurs through the nearby students. For the past two years, I’d paid for everything. His fees, his books, his class trips. It had become so routine that Mr. Davison didn’t even bother asking Ethan anymore; he just came straight to me. It wasn’t just the money. When his lunch wasn’t enough, I’d give him mine, even though his stomach was a bottomless pit he could never seem to fill. He’d take my food and, not long after, complain he was still hungry. I used to think he just had a big appetite. Then I found out he was giving everything I gave him to Hannah. Meanwhile, I was the one sitting in class, dizzy with hunger, my stomach cramping so badly I couldn’t focus. Thinking about it now, the sheer idiocy of my devotion made me furious. Mr. Davison didn’t give up. Ethan was his star pupil, the one kid with a real shot at the Ivy League. His success was tied to the school’s reputation, and by extension, Mr. Davison’s. He couldn’t afford any hiccups. “You’re his girlfriend, aren’t you? What’s the big deal about helping him out with a small fee?” A small, humorless smile touched my lips. “Oh, it’s no big deal for me. I’m just worried about Ethan. People are already starting to call him a freeloader. You know how proud he is. We wouldn’t want to push him over the edge, would we?” I was completely making it up, of course, but it sounded plausible. Finally, I stood up and raised my voice just enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear. “For the sake of Ethan’s reputation, I will no longer be paying for any of his expenses. From now on, please direct all billing matters to Ethan Reed himself.” I grabbed my practice tests and headed for the library. I didn’t want to stick around for the fallout. But I didn’t get far. Ethan was waiting for me right outside the door, his eyes blazing with anger. 5 “Leah, what the hell was that? Are you backing out on me?” Seeing his face, twisted with indignation, sent a strange jolt of satisfaction through me. “Backing out on you?” I shot back. “You’ve got a lot of nerve. Everyone in town knows about you and Hannah. You’re just like your father—can’t seem to keep it in your pants.” “You—” Ethan’s face flushed a deep, mottled red. He sputtered, “There’s nothing going on with me and Hannah. You shouldn’t listen to stupid gossip.” Without even waiting to see if I believed him, he stuck his hand out. “Now give me the money. I have to pay those fees. Today is the deadline, and I’m not going to miss class because of this.” Seriously? What was wrong with this guy? Did he think I was his mother? I wouldn’t even dare ask my own mom for money with that kind of attitude. Even the captions were disgusted. 【Seriously? I never realized how shameless the male lead is.】 【This is giving me flashbacks to my deadbeat ex. Loved spending my money.】 【Ugh, if I were her, I’d slap him. Twice.】 I rolled my eyes so hard I felt a strain. “No money,” I said, turning to leave. He grabbed my arm, his grip surprisingly strong. “I already asked around. Your dad’s settlement came through last week. Stop lying to me.” 6 “How can you be such a selfish person?” Ethan’s voice was rising, getting louder with every word. A small crowd was gathering, kids peering out of classroom windows to watch the drama unfold. Their stares were a mixture of curiosity and judgment, most of it aimed at me. I couldn’t take it anymore. I opened my mouth to fire back. But just then, Hannah materialized behind me again. The moment she saw me, her eyes welled up with tears. Her already petite frame seemed to shrink, making her look impossibly fragile. She grabbed my sleeve, her voice a desperate plea. “Leah, please… is this because of me? Are you refusing to help Ethan because of me?” she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. “You can’t listen to those rumors. Ethan is a top student. He’s our town’s only hope. You have to help him!” Every word was delivered with the dramatic weight of a Shakespearean tragedy. Anyone watching would think I was a monster bullying this poor, sweet girl. Ethan’s face hardened with protective anger. “Leah, when are you going to stop this?” he yelled, his voice echoing in the hallway. “Look at yourself! You’re acting like some crazy, irrational shrew! I’m about to apply to college. Can’t you for one second think about the pressure I’m under?” That was the cue for the audience to chime in. “Come on, Leah. Everyone knows you two are a couple. What’s the big deal?” “Yeah, Ethan’s family doesn’t have much. The guy works his butt off and gets straight A’s. If he were my boyfriend, I’d sell my car to help him.” “I see what this is. She’s just a user. No loyalty at all.” One by one, they tore me down, piling on accusations that had no basis in reality. In their eyes, Ethan was the golden boy destined for greatness, and I was just the lucky girl who got to cling to his coattails. They had no idea that he wouldn’t be where he was without me. I did his laundry and cleaned his classrooms so he would have more time to study. I stayed up all night copying study guides he couldn’t afford so he’d have them first thing in the morning. I was more invested in his grades than my own. And my grades hadn’t been bad. My dream of going to college was just as real, just as fierce as his. But I had always put his dream first. Not anymore. 7 “Ethan,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. It was quiet, but it carried. “You have a mother and a father. You have two hands and two feet. Why do you need me to pay your way through school?” His face went white. Hannah jumped in. “His family is poor! You have all that money now, why can’t you help him? Do you have any idea what it’s like to go hungry sometimes…” Before she could finish her sob story, I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I see. So because I have money, I’m obligated to give it away? Poverty makes you morally superior, is that it?” Hannah stammered, her face flushing bright red. I ignored her completely, my eyes locked on Ethan. “And speaking of money,” I said, my voice dripping with acid, “you knew how tight things were, Hannah, but you still let him use my money to buy you that new J.Crew blouse, didn’t you?” “You—” Hannah looked like I’d struck her. She clearly hadn’t known I knew about that, much less that I’d announce it publicly. The truth was, I’d only just learned it from a pop-up caption myself. She nervously glanced around as the other students’ eyes immediately darted to the crisp, new shirt she was wearing. I pressed on. “You talk about him going hungry. Well, he gave you the lunch I packed for him every single day. Of course he was hungry.” I turned my attention back to the crowd. “I dated him for a year. I did his laundry, cooked his meals, helped on his family’s farm, and paid his school fees. In all that time, he never bought me so much as a piece of candy. Everything he got from me, he turned around and gave to her. Tell me, was I just a pawn in some twisted game you two were playing?” The hallway erupted. “Wait, I thought Ethan was with Leah. Who is this other girl?” “He used his girlfriend’s money to buy clothes for another chick? That’s pathetic.” “Who cares how smart he is? The guy’s a leech.” “Worse, he’s a leech who thinks he’s entitled to it.” The sharp, judgmental stares were now directed at Ethan and Hannah. No matter how thick-skinned they were, they couldn’t withstand that kind of scrutiny. Hannah looked down, twisting the hem of her skirt, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. Ethan just glared at me, his eyes filled with pure venom. I glanced at the captions scrolling in my periphery. 【Is it just me or does this feel like catching a cheating couple in the act?】 【Okay, I’m not the only one who thinks the ‘hero’ is a dirtbag and the ‘heroine’ is a fake, right?】 【Why is it so satisfying to see them get called out? I’m living for this.】 【This side character is kind of a badass. I’m officially a fan.】 A small smile played on my lips. My confidence surged. I was about to go in for the kill when a furious voice cut me off. “That’s enough!” Ethan roared. “I see what this is. You’re just jealous of Hannah. She’s kinder than you, she’s more thoughtful than you, she’s more of a human being than you’ll ever be. And you’re so desperate to tear her down you’ll make up any lie you can think of.” Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Hannah’s hand and pulled her away, disappearing down the hall. 8 Somehow, Ethan managed to scrape together the money and pay his fees. After that, he made it his mission to make my life hell. He turned our friends against me, gave me the silent treatment, and acted like I was invisible. I couldn’t have cared less. My entire focus was on my schoolwork. I took a small amount of my dad’s settlement and set it aside for a “food fund.” Before, I was constantly starving myself for Ethan’s sake. Now, I ate protein with every meal. I was no longer dizzy in class, and my concentration improved dramatically. If I got hungry studying late at night, I’d make myself a snack. I had more energy than ever before. The only downside was the look on Ethan’s face whenever he saw me eating a chicken leg I’d originally bought for him, while his own lunch consisted of stale bread and a jar of pickles. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. One afternoon, I was struggling with a particularly brutal geometry proof. Ethan suddenly appeared at my desk. “You’re not built for math, Leah,” he sneered. “You can work at it all you want, but you’ll never be good at it. You should just accept it.” I felt a flash of white-hot anger. But then, a cold, clear thought cut through it. Only the weak lash out. The strong face reality. The anger subsided. He wasn’t wrong. Math was my Achilles’ heel. According to the captions, my math scores were what would ultimately drag my grades down. I was smart enough for Yale, but I would end up at a second-rate state school because of this one subject. The thought was unbearable. Seeing the frustration on my face, Ethan’s expression shifted to one of smug superiority. “Look,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension. “If you apologize to Hannah—publicly—and admit that everything you said about her was a lie, I might consider tutoring you.” He paused for effect. “You know how good I am. A few pointers from me would be worth more than a hundred hours of you banging your head against the wall.” He was right. His talent for math was infuriatingly natural. Ten minutes of his help would probably be more effective than ten hours of me studying on my own. Especially now, with senior year flying by, I didn’t have time to waste. But I still shut him down. “The only thing I want from you, Ethan, is for you to stay as far away from me as possible.” I remembered all the times I had begged him to help me with math before. He always had an excuse. “You just don’t have the aptitude for it…” “When would I possibly have the time?” “Instead of wasting energy on this, why don’t you do my laundry for me…” And now, he was offering to teach me, but only as a tool to defend Hannah’s honor. The irony was suffocating. I had my pride. I had my self-respect. I would rather never go to college than beg for scraps of affection from him.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386010”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I lost a game of Truth or Dare, and my penalty was to text Julian Thorne. I typed out the dare: [You’re the one who forced me into this twisted relationship—not quite an adopted son, not quite a lover.] The second it sent, I panicked and hit “unsend.” [Sorry, wrong person.] One second later, my phone rang. It was Julian. Beside me, my roommate yelled, “Hey Sawyer, where are the condoms?” Over the phone, Julian’s voice dropped to sub-zero temperatures. “What are you doing?” I looked around the room. My roommates had cleared the mahjong table and replaced it with enough snacks and drinks to fuel a small army. They were clearly pulling an all-nighter. I smirked into the receiver. “Getting a room.” A few hours later, I found Julian standing outside my dorm building. 1 I lost at mahjong. The punishment was a dare. The dare was to send a line of dialogue from a soap opera to the person pinned at the top of my chat list. [You’re the one who forced me into this twisted relationship—not quite an adopted son, not quite a lover.] I stared at the pinned contact: Julian Thorne. My throat went dry. Can I really send this? This is playing with fire. My roommates were jeering, making sure I didn’t chicken out. I took a deep breath, steeled my nerves, and hit send. Three seconds later, I unsent it. But I watched as the little “Typing…” bubble appeared. Then it vanished. Then my screen lit up with an incoming call. My hand shook so hard I almost threw my phone across the room. My roommate, Leo, winked at me. “Who’d you text? They called back fast.” I ignored his teasing and bolted for the balcony. When I pressed answer, my heart was pounding like a drum solo. This was our first conversation since we parted on bad terms three months ago. “Julian,” I said, my voice dry. There was a pause on the other end. “I’m your elder. You should call me Uncle Julian.” He’s not my uncle. He’s barely older than me—definitely younger than my dad would have been. He just insists on the title because he and my late father were “brothers.” Julian was clearly hung up on the text. “Just now, you…” Before he could finish, my dorm president, Greg, yelled from inside the room: “Sawyer! Where are the condoms?” Greg had just lost a round of Truth or Dare and had to make everyone’s bed. He was asking for the duvet covers, but in his slang, it sounded… suggestive. Greg has a voice that carries. I guarantee Julian heard it. Because the line went dead silent. I couldn’t even hear him breathing. After a long pause, his voice came through, colder than liquid nitrogen. “Sawyer. What are you doing?” I looked back at the mahjong table, the scattered chip bags, the beer cans, and my roommates’ excited faces ready for a night of debauchery. I let the devil take the wheel. I chuckled. “Getting a room. What else?” Julian laughed. It was a dry, angry sound. “Stop messing around.” Damn man. When I confessed to you, you said I was too young and didn’t understand my feelings. Now you care? I hung up on him. Click. The phone rang again. And again. I put it on silent. I went back inside and told everyone to keep playing. Julian sent one last text. [Sawyer, don’t make me come get you.] I scoffed. Like he’d drive all the way to campus in the middle of the night just to catch me. 2 Turns out, you shouldn’t tempt fate. We played for another two hours. It was only 11 PM. We ran out of snacks and beer. I volunteered to go on a run. I needed a breather anyway. Walking downstairs, I checked my phone. Julian had blown it up with messages. I couldn’t deny the twisted satisfaction I felt. He cares so much, yet he keeps pushing me away. The thought made me frustrated. I ran a hand through my hair and fished a cigarette out of my pocket. Just as I lit it, I saw a figure standing under the streetlamp outside the dorm. The light was dim, but I knew that silhouette. Julian. He saw me, too. He started walking toward me. My stomach dropped. Instinctively, I hid the cigarette in my palm. Julian hates smoking. He doesn’t even know I smoke. I stammered, “W-what are you doing here?” “You know why.” Julian grabbed my wrist and pried my fingers open, taking the cigarette. Only then did I feel the sting. In my panic, I’d burned my palm. “Since when do you smoke?” I opened my mouth and lied. “Just started a few days ago.” Actually, I’ve smoked for years. I just played the good boy whenever he was around. Julian hummed but didn’t press it. He walked to his car and gestured. “Get in.” Sitting in the passenger seat, I noticed his hair was a little messy. There were shadows under his eyes. Guilt washed over me. His company has been swamped lately. And he drove all this way, late at night, just for me. I wanted to explain the text, but I wanted something else more. I wanted to know why he was so panicked. I wanted him to admit he cared. That he liked me. “Julian, you care about me, don’t you? You’re afraid I’ll hook up with someone else, right?” Julian rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. He took off his coat and tossed it aside, his movements agitated. “Sawyer, this is an elder worrying about a junior. If your parents were here, they’d be worried too.” My chest tightened. That excuse again. I lowered my head, not wanting to look at him, but I explained anyway. “I wasn’t messing around. I lost a game of Truth or Dare. I sent it randomly.” Julian sighed at my silence. He reached over and ruffled my hair. “You’ll understand the difference eventually. Stop throwing tantrums, okay?” We hadn’t had a real conversation in three months. Ever since I impulsively confessed after high school graduation, he’d put up a wall. He started sleeping at the office, avoiding coming home. I’d never been treated like that by him. So I gave him the cold shoulder right back. I missed him. I didn’t want to fight anymore. “It’s late. Stay here tonight. Drive back tomorrow.” Julian nodded. “You go back to the dorm. I’ll get a hotel.” “Curfew’s passed.” A lie. But I wanted to be with him. Julian looked at me. Finally, he said nothing and drove us to a hotel. 3 Back at the hotel, Julian went out again. When he came back, he was holding a pharmacy bag. He beckoned. “Come here.” I sat next to him obediently. He took out a tube of burn ointment and gestured for my hand. I gave him my right hand. He applied the ointment carefully. His fingertips brushed against my palm, sending shivers up my arm. I watched his lowered eyelashes. Like I was possessed, I leaned in. My lips barely grazed his eyelid before he dodged. He pushed me away. Just like that night three months ago. After my graduation party, I was riding a high. Julian took the day off just to be with me. That night, I got a little tipsy. Julian asked what I wanted for a graduation gift. I stared into his eyes, unable to stop myself from hugging him. “Uncle Julian, will you give me anything I want?” Julian hugged me back, laughing. “Of course. Whatever you want, Uncle will get it for you.” The feelings I’d buried for years exploded. I cupped his face. And I kissed him. The moment our lips touched, he shoved me away. I fell back onto the sofa. “Uncle, I like you. Can I have you?” Julian stood up abruptly. His face was tight. His fists were clenched and shaking. “Sawyer, you’re drunk.” I shook my head frantically. “No, I’m not! I like you. I like you in the way that I want to be with you…” I tried to take his hand, but he avoided me. My heart ached. Julian wasn’t comforting me like he used to. He stood there, cold and distant, telling me my feelings were an illusion. That I couldn’t tell the difference between dependence and love. I was hearing the same lecture for the second time. The pain in my hand traveled to my chest. “I know the difference, Julian. I’m not a kid. I know what love is.” But Julian is stubborn. Especially with me. He set the ointment down and stood up to leave. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I forced an ugly smile. “Julian, I don’t get hard for people I don’t like.” Julian paused. Then he walked out without looking back. I barely slept. The next morning, I met him with dark circles under my eyes. He didn’t ask. He drove me back to campus. When the car stopped, I realized we were parting ways again. I didn’t move. I just wanted a few more minutes. Julian didn’t rush me. He leaned back in his seat. “Sawyer, your parents are gone. They entrusted me to raise you. You call me Uncle, so I am your elder.” “I don’t want you wasting your time on me. I’m ten years older than you. You have youth and potential. Go look at other people.” I stayed silent, protesting without words. Finally, Julian said: “Go. I have to leave too.” 4 After that, we entered a weird “Cold War.” He’d show appropriate concern, like an elder. But he stopped replying to my endless texts about my day. Like he was constantly reminding me: We are impossible. I knew how decisive Julian could be. But I was stubborn too. I threw myself into my studies, trying to numb the pain. My roommates thought I’d lost my mind. College freshman, grinding like a Ph.D. candidate. This went on for a month until Fall Break approached. Greg asked, “Sawyer, did you buy your ticket home?” I paused. Shook my head. “No. I’m not going back.” There was a competition coming up. I planned to stay and prep. But mostly, I didn’t know how to face Julian. I knew this drift was my fault. I pushed too hard. I was greedy. If I could do it over, maybe I wouldn’t have been so impulsive. Then, even if Julian stayed my “Uncle” forever, he wouldn’t push me away. I could still hug him, be his closest family. Greg patted my shoulder. “Alright. I’ll bring you some local specialties when I get back.” “Thanks,” I smiled. I opened Julian’s chat. Just a few sporadic messages over the last month. I stared at the screen. Maybe he heard me thinking about him, because the phone rang. It was Julian. I answered instantly. “Hello?” “Sawyer.” His voice made my heart tremble. “Did you buy a ticket? If not, I’ll have the driver pick you up…” For the first time in my life, I interrupted him. “Julian, I’m not coming back.” Silence. He hadn’t expected that. He paused for a few seconds, said a few polite words of concern, and hung up. I stared at the two-minute call log, feeling incredibly wronged. I say I’m not coming back, and you just let it go? For the next few days, I don’t know if I was mad at Julian or myself. I focused entirely on the competition. Zero communication with him. Once, I even missed his call. Finally, on a break, I got a call from Driver Wang. “Hello, Uncle Wang?” His voice was frantic. “Sawyer! Mr. Thorne… he’s been drinking all night. His stomach is acting up, but he won’t go to the hospital, and he won’t let anyone help him. I can’t talk sense into him. I had to call you.” Uncle Wang used to drive me to school. We were close. He knew to call me if anything happened to Julian. I frowned immediately. “Where is he?” “At home.” I hung up and dialed Julian. It rang and rang. No answer. My anxiety spiked. I told Uncle Wang to watch him and call an ambulance if it got bad. Then I bought the next ticket home. 5 I got home after 10 PM. Uncle Wang had checked on him a few times. Stubborn as a mule. I don’t know what got into him. No one forces Julian Thorne to drink these days. The house was dark. I fumbled for the light switch and saw Julian lying on the sofa. He eyes were closed. Asleep or passed out from pain? I walked over and squatted down, whispering. “Julian?” I touched his face. Hot. Worried he had a fever, I shook him. “Hey, don’t sleep yet. Let me take your temperature. Take some medicine first.” Julian opened his eyes and stared at me blankly. He looked pale. I’d never seen him this fragile. It broke my heart. I helped him sit up, grumbling, “Who pissed you off? Why drink so much? Don’t you know your stomach is bad?” Julian leaned into me, taking the thermometer. “Why are you back?” I draped a blanket over him. “If I didn’t come back, you’d die of pain.” He didn’t speak. I assumed he was still hurting. I stood up to make him honey water. Julian grabbed my wrist. “What?” He opened his mouth, then whispered, “Stomach hurts.” I frowned and sat back down, gently rubbing his stomach. I used to do this when he came home drunk from business dinners. Maybe because of the alcohol, he didn’t push me away. When he looked a bit better, I said, “Rest a bit, don’t sleep. I’ll make the water, then take the meds.” Julian nodded. “Okay.” By the time everything was done, it was late. I herded him to his bedroom and tucked him in. “Rest properly. You really don’t care about your body.” I was sleepy too. I turned to go to my room. “Sawyer,” Julian called out. “When… are you going back to school?” My drowsiness vanished. I turned around, looking at him in disbelief. I run all the way back here, nurse him back to health, and all he cares about is when I leave? Am I an eyesore now? But seeing him sick and pale, I couldn’t get angry. I glared at him, suffocating on my own frustration. “I’m leaving tomorrow.” I slammed the door and left.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386026”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Five years after I’d successfully completed the conquest, the System suddenly pinged. [The other player, Seraphina, is dead.] The teacup in my hand slipped, shattering on the floor. Seraphina was my best friend. To pull me out of this medieval world, she had voluntarily bound herself to the System, agreeing to help me conquer the two main targets: the Archmage and the Crown Prince. When we won, I chose to go home. She, however, had fallen in love with the Archmage. She chose to stay. That was five years ago. How… how was she dead? I finally heard my own voice, shaking. “Send me back.” “I’m going to drag that useless woman back home.” 1 The world spun. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the familiar, foreign streets of Avaloria. But in the bustling crowd, there was no one to grab my hand and say, “Don’t be afraid, Luna. I’m right here with you.” I found a horse and galloped toward the High Temple. The System said her body was still there. In the temple’s back hills, I found it: a single coffin, covered in fresh snow. I stumbled from my horse, running toward it. When I brushed the snow off the lid, I saw the dark, spattered stains. Blood. My chest tightened. My hands were shaking. “Frost… what did they do to you…” I pushed the lid. It grated open. The stench of rot hit me. I held my breath and looked inside. She was just… lying there. Her face was paper-white. Her beautiful hair had been hacked off, left in ragged clumps. Her body was a roadmap of injuries, and her right sleeve… her right sleeve was empty, the stump at her shoulder horribly clean. They had cut off her arm. I saw it, and my legs gave out. I collapsed. A thought, cold and sharp, cut through the grief. Where was Kaelen? The Archmage? When I left, they were disgustingly in love. She was pregnant. How could she be here, and he… he hadn’t even come to claim her body? I forced myself up and rode for the Archmage’s Tower. The wind was a blade against my skin, but it was nothing compared to the ice in my heart. The tower was… decorated. Red banners and lanterns. It was a celebration. It was so wrong. I stood there, frozen, thinking I’d gone to the wrong place. “What is this?” I grabbed a passing servant. He yelped. “The… the Archmage is getting married! It’s his wedding day!” Married? All the blood rushed to my head. Seraphina’s body wasn’t even cold, and he was getting married? I shoved the servant aside and kicked the doors open. Kaelen was there, in ceremonial robes, standing before a strange woman. He was smiling. I saw his smile, and all I could see was Frost’s empty sleeve. I lost it. I stormed the altar and slapped him. Hard. The woman in red screamed, “Who are you? How dare you strike the Archmage!” I backhanded her, too. “Don’t worry. There’s plenty for you.” She stared, her eyes filling with tears. She grabbed Kaelen’s sleeve. “Kaelen…” He shielded her, his expression a complex mess. “Luna? How… why are you back?” “Did she send you?” he snarled. “Did Seraphina send you to ruin my wedding to Lyra?” You son of a bitch. He moves on, and he dares to slander her name? I hit him again. “You don’t get to say her name, you bastard!” “She’s dead! She’s lying in a box on the mountain, and you’re here getting married!” Kaelen froze, his face draining of color. “What… what did you say? Frost… she’s dead?” 2 My hand stopped, hovering. He… he didn’t even know? Before I could speak, the new bride, Lyra, whispered, “Kaelen, don’t listen to her. You know how Seraphina lies.” “She… she cut up her own dresses last month, just to blame me.” Kaelen’s eyes sparked. He believed her. “That… that woman,” he seethed. “I never knew how manipulative she was. She’s faking her own death just to stop me from marrying Lyra?” I was shaking with rage. When Kaelen had overused his magic, shattering his own life-force, it was Frost who saved him. She’d traded her own life-source, her system points, for his. She had been wasting away ever since. She made me promise not to tell him. She didn’t want him to feel “burdened.” And this… this was his gratitude. I hit him again. “Say her name one more time, and I’ll rip your tongue out.” Lyra shrieked and lunged at me. “You witch! You’re just doing her dirty work!” I dodged, grabbed her wrist, and twisted. She screamed. A small body shot past me like a cannonball, tackling me at the knees. “You hurt my mommy! Get out, you bad woman!” A little boy. Five, maybe six years old. He was beautiful. And he looked… he looked just like Seraphina. Her son. Kaelen’s son. And he was protecting this other woman. “Frost… what kind of hell were you living in?” My heart shattered. I looked at the boy. “You’re Frost’s son. Why are you calling her ‘Mommy’?” The boy’s face twisted with a hatred far too old for him. “Don’t say that! She’s not my mother! Lyra is my mother! You can’t hurt her!” Oh, Frost. Do you see this? I laughed. A horrible, broken sound. I grabbed the kid, my whip lashing out, and tied him to my side. “Frost was too soft to teach you. I’ll do it for her.” If he were my kid, I’d have abandoned him. But this was Frost’s. I had to at least try to save him. Lyra was hysterical. “Kaelen, she’s taking Ash! Stop her!” Kaelen was furious. “Let him go, Luna! This is between us! He’s just a child!” I pulled the rope tighter. “He became ‘between us’ the moment you let him call another woman his mother. Do you even remember what Frost went through to give you this child?” We weren’t supposed to be able to get pregnant here. She had to trade more of her life, endure a blood-magic ritual… just to have his baby. She was so happy. “I’m not just saving you, Moon,” she’d said, “I’m finding my true love.” Now she was a corpse with one arm. Kaelen flinched, but his voice was hard. “She’s a thief. I will not let my son be raised by a thief.” “She stole what?” “She stole Lyra’s title! She stole her power, her credit, everything!” 3 I stared. This world never had a “Goddess.” Frost and I, we used the System to predict disasters, to stop famines, to change the weather. We created the “Goddess” myth. If Lyra was the Goddess, it was a lie they had built. “Proof. Now.” The boy, Ash, spat at me. “That bitch stole it! I saw Mommy Lyra bleed for the rain spell! And that bad woman took the credit!” “He’s a child,” Kaelen said. “He wouldn’t lie.” The two people who should have been her world were speaking of her like she was poison. A snowflake landed on my cheek. It was snowing. Hard. I remembered Frost, alone in her coffin. I left the tower. I had to bury her. The cold had preserved her, but… not perfectly. Her face, at least. Her face was still beautiful. I brushed her mangled hair back. My hand was shaking. “I’m sorry, Frost. I shouldn’t have let you stay. If it wasn’t for me, you never would have met this bastard…” The first scoop of dirt hit the wood. The sound was so final. My throat closed. I tried to scream, but only a choked sob came out. I was about to jump into the grave with her when a golden light threw me back. A familiar, mechanical voice. [Player Luna, do not self-terminate. Seraphina left a file for you.] “What? What is it?” A letter appeared in my hand. [Moon, I have no one left here. Take me home. Just me. Don’t let anyone else come. They’ll just dirty the path. -Frost] She must have been so broken. “I’ll get you justice, Frost. I promise. And then we’ll go home.” I asked the System to show me her final moments. [ACCESS DENIED. INSUFFICIENT PERMISSIONS.] 4 I put the burial on hold. I used the System to freeze her body. The snow fell for five days. The city was panicking. On the sixth day, Lyra arrived at the High Temple in a wave of incense and bells, dressed in white, looking every bit the divine. She lit the incense. “In three days,” she announced, “the snow will stop.” The people cheered. She walked into the back room, her face pale. “Seraphina. In three days, you have to…” She saw me. “Who are you? Where is Seraphina?” “You’re the Goddess,” I sneered. “Why are you asking me?” She looked panicked. “Just… just tell that bitch to get out here!” I slapped her. “The bitch? You’re talking about yourself.” “Frost is dead. Your little show is over.” “Dead?” she shrieked, panicked. “She can’t be dead! You’re lying, get her out here!” The door crashed open. Kaelen and Ash. Lyra immediately crumpled, running to him. “Kaelen! This woman… she hit me! And she’s saying… saying awful lies about Seraphina…” “Luna, that’s enough!” he yelled. “Where is she? Tell her to stop this ridiculous game!” “Are you deaf? She’s DEAD.” “Liar! The High Priest saw her just yesterday! You’re just jealous I married Lyra, so you cooked up this ‘fake death’ plot! I’m not falling for it!” I laughed. I grabbed him, my magic flaring, and teleported us to the back hills. I threw him at the frozen casket. “Open it. See for yourself.” He kicked the lid off. “This is pathetic. If she was really… really…” His voice died. The coffin was open. Frost’s pale, mutilated body was lying there. He just stared. The anger, the denial… it all shattered. 5 Kaelen fell to his knees. He reached out a trembling hand, then snatched it back, like her skin was fire. “No… no, it was just… I just sent her here to reflect… I was just teaching her a lesson…” Lyra and Ash ran up. She saw the body and her face went white. Ash ran up and started hitting the corpse. “Bad woman! You made Daddy leave Mommy!” Kaelen turned and struck his son. “She… she is your mother!” Ash wailed. I threw Frost’s last letter at Kaelen. He read the six words. I have no one left here. He howled. A raw, animal sound of grief. Lyra saw him breaking. She tried to touch him. “Kaelen, she’s gone, but…” He lunged, his hands wrapping around her throat. “YOU! This is your fault! You did this!” She choked, clawing at him. “Kaelen… no… I’m the… the Emperor’s Goddess… I saved… I saved your life…” The Emperor? My blood went cold. Rhys. My target. The only other person who knew we were Players. Did Rhys do this? Kaelen’s grip loosened. “If you hadn’t saved me… I’d kill you right now.” He threw her to the ground. He turned back to the coffin… and he saw the empty sleeve. His breath hitched. “Luna… her… her arm…” “Now you believe me.” His voice was a broken whisper. “It’s my fault… I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have…” “Moon.” A new voice. I turned. Rhys. The Emperor. In his full golden armor.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386043”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Three years. Three years of trying to win over Evelyn Reed. And I was still listening to the system drone, “Affinity: one percent.” I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. “There are so many amazing women around me. Why am I stuck on Evelyn?” I grumbled to the void. “It’s like staring at a feast I’m not allowed to touch.” To my surprise, the system sounded even more shocked than I was. “You can scroll through the target list, you know.” “You… didn’t know that?” 1 I stared blankly at the system interface. “Are you kidding me? Why didn’t you say so sooner?” “You never asked. I just figured Evelyn was your type.” A bitter taste filled my mouth. Evelyn Reed was the youngest attending physician at the hospital. Stunningly beautiful, with an aura as cold and distant as a winter morning. She was a glacier, gorgeous and unthawable. In the three years we’d been “dating,” I doubt she’d said more than fifty words to me in total. My fingers scrambled to swipe on the target list. It scrolled. And scrolled. There were over twenty more pages. For three years, I had turned what was supposed to be a harem-building game into a painfully slow-burn, one-sided romance. Anyone watching would have thought I was her number one, die-hard fan. It all started when I was on my deathbed. The system bonded with me, giving me a new lease on life, but I started with only a hundred dollars to my name. “Every affinity point translates directly to cash in your account,” the system had explained. “One point is a thousand dollars.” The cap was ten thousand points. Three years! My bank account had never broken a thousand bucks. God only knows how I survived. My phone buzzed, the screen flashing “Evelyn.” Her voice, cool and clipped, came through the speaker. “Working late.” My response was pure reflex. “Should I bring you dinner?” The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to slap myself. Old habits die hard. I expected a swift rejection, but after a pause, she replied, “If you want.” So, of course, I went. I bought her favorite meal and headed to the hospital. I had held onto hope for Evelyn so many times, just like this. And every time, I told myself this would be the last chance I gave her. I could find Evelyn’s office with my eyes closed. As a senior physician, she had her own. But when I got there, the room was empty. I spotted one of the nurses at the duty station. “Excuse me, is Dr. Reed in surgery?” I was a familiar face on this floor, a regular delivery boy for Evelyn. But today, the nurse’s expression was… awkward. She tried to hide it, but I could see the pity in her eyes. “N-no, she’s not.” She subtly pointed down the adjacent hallway. “Dr. Reed might be on her rounds. Maybe you could check there?” I did a full circuit of the floor, meal container in hand, but Evelyn was nowhere to be found. Just as I was about to call her, a clear voice drifted from the nearby stairwell. “Dr. Reed, when can I finally call you my boyfriend?” The name froze me in my tracks. Evelyn’s reply was muffled by the door. “That depends on your performance.” The stairwell door was cracked open just enough for me to see. Evelyn was leaning lazily against the wall, a picture of casual indifference. Standing before her was a young male nurse, his head bowed as he leaned in to kiss her. One of Evelyn’s hands was tucked into the pocket of her white coat; the other rested lightly on the nurse’s waist. She watched him, neither responding nor pulling away. “Dr. Reed,” the nurse murmured against her lips, “won’t your boyfriend be angry?” Evelyn’s gaze drifted up, and her eyes met mine through the crack in the door. Her reply was meant for him, but her words were aimed squarely at me. “Would he dare?” My knuckles whitened around the bag’s handle. I pushed the door open. The nurse jumped back, startled, and tried to hide behind Evelyn. I ignored him, my eyes locked on her. Evelyn met my gaze without a flicker of emotion. “Evelyn,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Is this why you called me here? For a show?” She pulled out a cigarette and lit it, the tip glowing in the dim light. She took a long drag, then flicked the ash to the floor before letting the cigarette dangle from her lips. The ash drifted down, and my heart sank with it. It finally hit me. Not with the cold, digital finality of a system notification, but with a raw, gut-wrenching certainty. She didn’t love me. It had all been in my head. “This is boring.” She exhaled a cloud of smoke in my face, her voice flat. “Leo, you’re just so incredibly boring.” She finished the cigarette, stubbed it out in a nearby bin, and slung an arm around the nurse’s shoulders, moving to brush past me. “Evelyn,” I called out, stopping her. “This is the last meal I’ll ever bring you.” I added, with a bitter laugh, “Not that you’d ever eat it, anyway.” I dropped the food container into the trash can, right next to her dead cigarette. A fitting goodbye. This time, I didn’t watch her leave. I turned my back first. Evelyn’s brow furrowed. She stepped in front of me, blocking the door. “Where are you going?” I pushed her hand away. “We’re done. It’s none of your business.” She let out a short, sharp scoff. As I walked away, I heard the nurse ask her, “Aren’t you going to go after him, Dr. Reed?” And Evelyn’s voice, draped in its usual icy calm: “He’ll come crawling back when he’s done with his tantrum.” Like hell, I thought. I never go back. Just then, a message popped up on my phone. [Hey, Leo! Are you free tonight? There’s some lab data I could really use your help with.] It was from Lily, a junior in my department. I typed back: [Give me half an hour. I’m on my way.] Half an hour later, I was in the lab. Lily peeked out from behind a computer monitor. “Leo! You made it!” She had an innocent, puppy-dog face, framed by wavy chestnut hair. Every word she spoke seemed to end with a cheerful lilt. I walked over. “What’s the problem?” She pointed at a string of figures on the screen, looking utterly defeated. “I’ve run the calculations a dozen times, and it’s still not working.” I scanned the data. “You’re using the wrong constant here. You can’t just plug that one in directly.” Lily’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh! That explains everything! You’re amazing, Leo. You saw it right away.” I chuckled. “I’ve just worked with this experiment a lot.” She blinked her big, doe-like eyes at me. “Still, you saved me! As a thank you, let me buy you dinner?” I hesitated for a second, but then the system’s voice chimed in. 【New Target: Lily.】 【Affinity: 100.】 【First-time 100 Affinity achievement unlocked. System Reward: Five Million Dollars.】 Simultaneously, my phone pinged with a bank alert: [Deposit: $5,100,000.00. Current Balance: $5,100,012.50.] My eyes nearly popped out of my head. Three years. The floodgates had finally opened. To hesitate now would be a profound disrespect to money itself. “Sure,” I said, my voice smoother than I felt. “Let’s go. I haven’t eaten yet.” Lily’s face lit up, surprised by my quick agreement. “There’s a new Sichuan place that just opened near campus. How about we try that?” “Sounds good.” As I turned to leave, I didn’t see her flip over the lab report she’d had sitting face-down on the desk. The data on it was identical to the corrected version I had just given her. Fueled by a newfound sense of civic duty—taking from the rich (the system) and giving to the people (local restaurants)—I had fully intended to pay. But Lily had sneakily settled the bill while I wasn’t looking. During the meal, I noticed she had a dimple that appeared whenever she smiled at me. It was ridiculously sweet. The food was great, and by the end of it, my affinity with her had netted me a few hundred thousand more. I’d almost forgotten what it felt to have money. The last three years with Evelyn had been a miserable, penny-pinching existence. “Oh, this table is free! Dr. Reed, let’s sit here.” Speak of the devil. A few feet away, the same male nurse was holding Evelyn’s hand, guiding her to a table. Her gaze was locked on me, heavy and dark. “What’s wrong, Leo?” Lily asked, looking up from her bowl like a curious hamster. I tore my eyes away from Evelyn, shrugging nonchalantly. “Nothing. Just some nobody.” I tried to ignore them, but Evelyn couldn’t stand it. She stalked over to our table, her usual calm facade cracking to reveal a simmering anger beneath. She stood beside me, her voice sharp. “Leo, is this what your ‘love’ for me looks like? One thing to my face, another behind my back? Don’t tell me you were secretly seeing other women the entire time we were together.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386059”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

For five years, the woman who hijacked my body played house. In the fifth year, she finally got bored. She and her “System” bailed, leaving this world without a backward glance. What they left me was a son spoiled into a tyrant and a husband who was a stranger in his own home. Before I could even begin to process the temporal whiplash, a stream of text, like a live comment feed, scrolled across my vision. 【What a dumpster fire of a starting point. I’ve never seen a dumber transmigrator. She gets a five-year head start and just makes a bigger mess for the original to clean up.】 【Seriously. Her mission was to straighten out the mini-villain and warm up the big villain so the family wouldn’t bother the main characters. Instead, besides dodging her own death plot point, she just spent five years maxing out a credit card.】 【The kid’s a nightmare, the husband’s been pushed away. I’m so sick of this family. Honestly, they should all just die.】 So. It turned out I was the disposable side character, the one who dies early in the novel. And my husband and my son? They were the villains. 1 The ghostly commentary continued to scroll, listing the sins of my son, the “mini-villain.” No manners, bad temper, selfish, a bully. Before I could organize the chaos in my mind, a thudding sound echoed from the grand staircase. A little boy, round as a beach ball, was thundering his way down. A strange, primal instinct flared to life. I knew, instantly, that this was my child. He saw me sitting in the living room but looked right through me, making a beeline for the kitchen, for the stainless-steel refrigerator. The nanny hurried after him. “Oh, Leo, my sweet boy, you’ve already had three ice cream bars today! If you get a tummy ache, your father will have my head when he gets back.” The little boy—Leo—paid her no mind. The nanny shot a helpless, pleading look in my direction. 【What’s the point of looking at her? She’s the biological mom, sure, but she’s been gone for five years. She’ll just spoil him more out of guilt.】 【Honestly, did anyone else think the transmigrator was a total phony? Her idea of ‘motherly love’ was just endless indulgence. The kid is worse off now than he was in the original story. He’s so overweight he’s lost the one thing he had going for him—his looks.】 【You can see his whole future from here. He’ll grow up to be a degenerate who gambles and blows his inheritance, probably curses out his parents too.】 【If that little butterball dropped dead, I wouldn’t shed a tear.】 That was it. I couldn’t take any more. “Leo Harrison. Put the ice cream down.” I remembered settling on that name with Cole when I was eight months pregnant. Leo. For a boy or a girl. A name full of light and strength. Leo shot me a look of pure disdain. “You’re so annoying. You can’t tell me what to do!” Then, as if to challenge me, he shoved a huge bite of vanilla ice cream into his mouth. The white cream smeared around his lips, and his eyes, already narrowed by his chubby cheeks, squeezed into happy little slits. He saw me still staring, and with a defiant glare, he raised a small, pudgy hand and flipped me two middle fingers. In that instant, a switch flipped inside me. A cold, quiet rage. Spoil him? Not on my watch. I shot up from the sofa and clamped a hand down on his shoulder. My little wild boar. “Who taught you to do that? Hmm? Where did you learn it?” “Let go of me! Let go! If you don’t let go, you’ll be sorry when my dad gets home.” Hah. After letting our son turn into this, Cole would be lucky if he didn’t get a piece of my mind himself when he got home. 2 I directed the stunned-looking nanny to fetch me a roll of packing tape. Then I took Leo’s hand, singled out his middle finger, and began to wrap the tape around his fist, leaving only that one digit standing at attention. He liked giving the finger so much? Fine. He could hold the pose for a while. To his credit, he didn’t cry. He just stood there, his two taped-up fists held out like a tiny crab, glaring daggers at me. “When Dad gets back, I’m gonna tell him you bullied me! You won’t get your allowance this month! You won’t be able to buy any more of your tacky jewelry.” “When is your father coming home?” Leo jutted out his lower lip, refusing to answer. I glanced at the nanny. “Mr. Harrison is on a business trip in Chicago. He should be back in about a week.” “Is he always like this?” I asked quietly. The nanny looked uncomfortable. “He’s… a little better when his father is around.” I nodded. I told her not to remove the tape for any reason, then turned and walked upstairs. I was surprised to find that, after all these years, the decor of the house hadn’t changed at all. Even the little ceramic horse statue, the one I’d chipped an ear off of during a clumsy moment, was still in its place on the console table. 3 Five years ago, I’d lost consciousness right after giving birth. What followed was the sensation of being trapped in a dream I couldn’t wake from. I could feel my body moving, speaking, living a life, but it was all through a hazy, third-person fog. I thought I’d just been asleep for a long, long time. It wasn’t until I saw the spectral commentary that I realized five years had passed. I walked from memory toward the master bedroom. A sleek, digital keypad lock I’d never seen before blocked the door. 【LOL, the OG has no idea. That lock was installed specifically to keep her—well, the transmigrator—out.】 【Hey, has anyone figured out the password? The transmigrator tried to sneak in once for a surprise attack, but she failed every time.】 【Nope. She tried the kid’s birthday, her birthday, Cole’s birthday. She tried so many wrong codes she triggered the entire house alarm system. The look on her face was priceless, I almost died laughing.】 【Forget the transmigrator, even we’ve never seen inside Cole’s room.】 Reading this, I raised an eyebrow. My fingers moved automatically, typing in a sequence of numbers I knew as well as my own name. Ignoring the flood of shocked comments scrolling past my eyes, I pushed the handle down. The door clicked open. Sure enough, the bedroom was unchanged. Even the color of the duvet cover was the same slate gray it had been the day I left for the hospital. The only difference was a small stack of locked journals on the nightstand. It seemed that in the last few years, Cole had gotten into the habit of locking away anything important. I picked one up. The pages of a few of the journals were warped and wrinkled, as if they’d been soaked through with water and then left to dry. The comment-feed was buzzing, begging me to pick the locks, to uncover Cole’s secrets. I ignored it. I placed the journal back exactly where I found it. 4 At dinner, the nanny was about to prepare a meal based on Leo’s usual demands when I stopped her. “Don’t go to the trouble. Starting today, he’s on a diet.” I glanced at his still-taped fists. “Let’s start with a veggie sandwich for tonight.” “Why! Just because I flipped you off, you’re going to abuse me?” Leo protested loudly. I shook my head and met his angry gaze. “See? Even you know that flipping someone off is a bad thing to do, especially to your own mother. But you haven’t apologized to me. And the diet isn’t a punishment. It’s for your health.” Leo’s cheeks puffed out. He didn’t argue for a long moment, then just mumbled something under his breath. “You’re not my…” The rest was too quiet to hear, but I could guess it wasn’t a compliment. When it was time to eat, Leo gestured for me to take the tape off. “Are you going to do it again?” He wouldn’t look at me, his little lip pushed out. “No.” He was quiet for another moment. “I’m sorry…” 【Okay, I have to admit, the original knows how to handle a brat.】 【This is killing me. If the mini-villain didn’t apologize, his fingers would’ve gone numb. LMAO.】 【More of this, please. I love it.】 【Wait, is she not thinking about the consequences? This isn’t five years ago. The transmigrator completely eroded Cole’s feelings for her. He could genuinely flip out when he gets back… If my favorite tragic romance turns into a bitter divorce, I swear I’m gonna riot.】 Cole, flipping out at me? I had to admit, a small part of me was looking forward to it. 5 Whether Cole would lose his temper remained to be seen. Leo, however, was the first to lose it at the dinner table. His eyes went red as he pointed at the sandwich, which contained only lettuce and a fried egg. “This is all I get to eat?” I nodded. I’d even allowed the egg to be fried instead of boiled, as a small concession. “I’m not eating this! I want sweet and sour ribs!” “Then don’t eat.” Leo’s eyes darted around. With a huff, he hopped off his chair and ran out of the room. I sighed. I hadn’t wanted to go scorched-earth, but the kid was pushing his luck. I put down my fork, called the nanny, and grabbed a trash bag. It was time to raid Leo’s hidden snack stashes. We caught him red-handed, crouched by his bed, butt in the air, happily munching on a bag of potato chips. As he watched his precious snacks disappear one by one into the black trash bag, his little hands trembled. “You’re fighting dirty!” I ignored him. Seeing that resistance was futile, Leo frantically shoved the last of the chips in his hand into his mouth, chewing for dear life. He breathed a sigh of relief when I left his room. He didn’t expect me to head straight for the media room and his small study. The kid was clever, I’ll give him that. He knew not to keep all his eggs in one basket. But I’d pulled the same tricks when I was his age. This time, Leo completely fell apart. “Waaaah, spare my snacks, I’m begging you!” “My limited-edition snack box! I saved my allowance for so long to buy it, I hadn’t even opened it yet!” “Take my life, but don’t take my snacks!” “My snacks! How will I live without you, my snacks!” The tears were real now. He wiped his eyes, his cries turning into small, hitching sobs. 【Hahahaha, watching the little fatty cry is kind of fun. He’s actually cute.】 【I usually hate it when kids cry, but Leo’s sobs are quiet, not like those ear-splitting shrieks other kids do. I would have bailed by now otherwise.】 【Replying to the above: Kids wail like that to get sympathy from adults. Is it possible that Leo subconsciously knows the transmigrator wasn’t his real mom…】 【Whoa, upstairs. That’s dark when you think about it.】 I knelt and pulled him into a hug, patting his back gently. I explained that I was just confiscating the snacks for safekeeping, not throwing them away. If he ate his meals properly, he could have them back eventually. He instantly stopped crying. He leaned his head against my shoulder, his little hand clutching the hem of my shirt. In a tiny voice, he whispered, “Mommy?” I felt my heart squeeze. I answered him softly. “Yes. I’m here, baby.” 6 After the Great Snack Confiscation, Leo became surprisingly obedient. But he couldn’t seem to kick the habit of trying to sneak treats. In just two days, we engaged in a silent war of wits that felt like it had three hundred rounds. Finally, I brought out my secret weapon. I proposed a new deal to Leo. If he really wanted to eat a snack, he could. But for every calorie he consumed, he had to burn it off. At first, Leo was unfazed and readily agreed. That evening, during our walk, I wheeled out a wiggle car. Leo thought I’d bought it for him and excitedly thanked me. His face fell when he saw me sit on it myself. Then he magnanimously declared that it was okay, Mommy could play with it first. I just smiled, taking a belt and a length of rope and fastening a makeshift harness around his little body. Leo looked at me, confused. “Today,” I said sweetly, “you ate two bags of chips, one ice cream bar, a bag of Takis, two pieces of chocolate, and a cupcake. I did the math, and a simple walk isn’t going to burn all that off. So, how about we engage in a fun and loving parent-child activity?” That’s right. The parent-child activity was me, sitting on the wiggle car, while Leo pulled me from the front. “But I’m just a kid!” “Hmm. Well, it’s either the fun activity or the snacks. Your choice.” Leo said nothing. Leo put his head down and started pulling. Leo’s face became a living emoji of exhaustion. 7 After the weekend, the nanny took Leo to kindergarten. With some time to myself, I logged on to check the company’s financial status. It was a tech firm Cole and I had started together. He was the genius behind the code; I handled public relations and marketing. Cole was a classic introvert, never comfortable with networking or schmoozing. I was surprised to see that in the past five years, he had managed to grow the company exponentially. Even the dividends from my own shares had multiplied several times over. A wave of relief washed over me. It meant that even if things between us went to the worst-case scenario, I had the capital to start over on my own terms. I spent the morning catching up on five years of market changes, researching potential investment opportunities. Just then, my phone rang. “Leo Harrison’s parent?” “Leo assaulted another child at school. The other parent is already here. Please come to the school immediately.” The comments flared to life. 【Here we go, here we go! The classic face-slapping plot point, part one.】 【Could it be a misunderstanding? After all the work she’s put in, would Leo really act out like that again?】 【No misunderstanding. I saw the whole thing. Leo did it on purpose. He’s just a bad seed.】 【When is this whole family going to be written out of the story? They’re so annoying. But I guess having him bully the female lead’s daughter is one way to get him into real trouble.】 【That fat little punk thinks his family’s money makes him hot stuff. He has no idea the male lead is an heir to a New York fortune. The second he comes looking for his girl, he’ll bankrupt their little company in a heartbeat.】 My eyebrows shot up. I quietly filed that last piece of information away. 8 When I arrived, Leo was standing in a corner, head bowed. Across the room, a graceful woman was holding a little girl, comforting her in a soft voice. To prevent any arguments, the teacher immediately played the security footage. “Assault” was a strong word, but Leo had definitely pushed the girl. I crouched down in front of my son. “Did this little girl say something mean to you?” Leo looked at me and shook his head. “Did she do something to hurt you where the teachers couldn’t see?” He thought for a moment, then shook his head again. 【Don’t bother asking, lady. The female lead’s daughter was just playing with her toys. Your fat kid went over to talk to her, she ignored him, so he pushed her. That kind of kid is just… ugh.】 【Does anyone else feel that helpless frustration of wanting to slap someone through the screen?】 【Kid’s got a father but no mother to raise him right. If he were my kid, I’d give him a couple of smacks right here to let off some steam.】 Even though the ghostly commentators were laying out the entire story for me, I insisted on asking him myself. “Why did you push her?” Leo turned his head away, refusing to look at me. I gently stroked his hair and didn’t press him further. Instead, I walked over to the other mother. I apologized sincerely and said that we would cover all the medical expenses, any related costs, and compensate her for her missed work. The woman, who had seemed ready for a fight, visibly relaxed. She probably assumed that a child with his reputation would have an equally difficult parent. My earnest apology seemed to disarm her. 9 I signed Leo out of school for the afternoon. Before we left, the teacher pulled me aside. “Mrs. Harrison, I’m not trying to be a tattletale, but this isn’t the first time Leo has been aggressive with other children. In the past, it was always with other boys, and you know how they can be. A few bumps and bruises are normal. You’d send the nanny, and I’d let it go. But this time he’s moved on to bullying a little girl. And as you saw, the poor thing didn’t do anything to provoke him.” She sighed, her expression a mix of frustration and pity. “I know you parents are busy, but once you have a child, you have to be responsible for them.” … When I came out of the office, Leo was waiting for me, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He probably expected me to yell at him, but I said nothing. Even when we got home, I acted as if nothing had happened. It was Leo who was a wreck, full of nervous energy. Every few minutes, he would run over to where I was sitting just to look at me. At dinner, there was no more fighting. He dutifully ate his food in the proper order: vegetables, protein, then carbs. During our evening walk, he offered meekly to pull the wiggle car again. I refused. I told him his calorie intake for the day wasn’t over the limit, so no strenuous exercise was needed. He just hung his head and mumbled, “Oh.” Seeing him like this, I felt a sense of relief. It proved that my son was not a lost cause. 10 Sure enough, a little while later, he came over and tugged on my sleeve. “You… you’re not going to yell at me? About today.” I looked at him and spoke softly. “I believe in my son. I don’t want to wrongly accuse you before I know the reason. Even if everyone else says it was your fault, I still want to hear your side of the story. With me, at least, you will always have the first right to explain.” The moment the words left my mouth, Leo burst into tears. He threw himself into my arms, sobbing apologies. He told me he really didn’t mean to do it, that he just wanted the little girl, Lily, to notice him and play with him. He confessed that the other kids at school all called him names. They said he was fat and mean, like Dudley Dursley from Harry Potter. Only Lily never called him that. Through his tears, Leo choked out the story. “I’m not Dudley. I didn’t hit anyone. They started it by calling me names. I just wanted them to stop, so I tried to act tough. I just wanted to play with Lily, I didn’t know she would fall… I was wrong. I’m sorry, I’m sorry to Lily.” The comments reappeared. 【Just like the heroine’s daughter! So sweet and kind! A true little angel!】 【Hahahaha, Dudley! That’s perfect. His classmates are brutal.】 【You think that’s funny?… Calling names is bullying. People who haven’t been through it just don’t get that feeling of powerlessness, where the more you tell them to stop, the more they do it.】 【I actually get it. This is like that ‘broken plate’ test. The moment Leo got provoked, he confirmed their narrative that he was just a fat bully. Sometimes, little kids are the cruelest people of all.】 11 A dull ache spread through my chest. I waited until Leo’s sobs subsided before I started to reason with him. I explained that whether Lily wanted to play with him or not was her choice, her freedom. He shouldn’t have tried to get her attention by pushing her after she ignored him. Seeing his confused expression, I tried a different approach. “It’s like when the other kids call you Dudley. You told them you don’t like it, but they didn’t listen. They even turned it into a joke and tried to force you to accept it. That made you unhappy. It made you feel like they were being mean, right?” I continued, “That’s the feeling of not being respected.” “Did you, without meaning to, do the same thing to Lily today that those kids did to you?” Leo was quiet for a long time, thinking. A sad, guilty look crossed his face as he nodded. He promised he wouldn’t do it again. I gently pushed on. “So, what should you do tomorrow?” “I’ll go apologize to Lily.” “And what if she doesn’t accept your apology?” He looked up at me, his expression certain. “It’s her choice not to accept my apology. I won’t bother her anymore. I’ll just try my best to be better, and wait for her to forgive me.” As I stroked his head, he bit his lip and added in a small voice, “Mommy, I feel really bad about what I did to Lily. I want to make it up to her. Can I?” 12 The next day, for the first time ever, I agreed to let Leo take his limited-edition snack box to kindergarten. Just as he was about to leave, I called him back. I told him that if anyone called him Dudley again, he needed to tell them, clearly and seriously, that he didn’t like it. And then he needed to tell the teacher that their words were hurting his feelings. He looked down at his shoes. “What if they don’t listen to me?” “You will have done everything you needed to do. The rest is their problem. Their parents’ problem. Don’t ever look for fault in yourself because of someone else’s bad behavior. That’s a fool’s game.” The commentary feed approved. 【YES! That’s exactly it. You call me a name, I tell you I don’t like it, you do it again? That means you’re the one who’s stupid and has no manners. It has nothing to do with me.】 【What a great way to separate the issues. No internalizing. I love it.】 【I’m kind of jealous of the mini-villain. The original is such a gentle mom…】 【Am I the only one who thinks Leo is just scamming her for snacks?】 ……… As Leo walked into his classroom, he kept looking back at me over his shoulder. I gave him an encouraging smile. I watched him hand the snack box to Lily, then take two steps back and offer a formal, little bow of apology. Then, I turned and walked toward the administrative office. My son had done his part. The rest was up to his mother. ……… In the weeks that followed, the smiles on Leo’s face became much more frequent. Even his temper seemed to have mellowed. He told me the teacher had spoken sternly to the children who were calling names. Now, no one in the class did it anymore. Lily had forgiven him. She even gave him a small bag of homemade cookies as a thank-you gift. 13 Before I knew it, the day of Cole’s return arrived. That night, I was asleep in my room—our room. In the deep darkness, a pair of hands suddenly clamped around my throat. A low, furious voice hissed in my ear. “How did you get in here? Did your System crack the code? Didn’t I tell you never to come near my room?” I recognized Cole’s voice instantly. Without thinking, my hand flew up and I slapped him across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the silent room.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386075”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel