Category: English

My husband kept a young girl on the side. She was fresh, delicate, and completely uninhibited in bed. She gave him experiences he never had before. He reminded her to take her birth control. She pouted, playfully saying she wanted to give him a child. My husband sternly warned her that if she got pregnant, she was getting an abortion and they were breaking up. He said he would only ever allow his legal wife to bear his children. It sounded almost romantic, in a twisted, deeply devoted way. So, I told him: I’m pregnant. But he just stared at me in dead silence. Because we hadn’t slept together in five years. 01 “I cheated on you.” I thought when I said those words, Carter would remain perfectly calm and ask me, “Was it good?” Instead, his brow furrowed, and he stared at me for a long time without saying a word. Did he not believe me? Oh, right. Five years ago, I had lied to him. Back then, I was consumed by sheer, visceral hatred. But right at the absolute final moment, I snapped back to reality. Destroying my own dignity just to get revenge on him wasn’t worth it. So, I pushed Carter’s best friend, Ethan, away and got out of his bed. But I still maliciously covered myself in hickeys and bite marks. I went home and told Carter I cheated, demanding a divorce. In an instant, Carter’s eyes turned red. But that was the extent of it. When I found out he had cheated, I—the usually poised, elegant wife—completely lost my mind. The hyperventilation triggered respiratory alkalosis. I couldn’t breathe, and my fingers cramped into agonizing, rigid claws. I thought I was going to die. Carter calmly found a paper bag to help me regulate my breathing. He calmly explained himself, and calmly made his promises. “Chloe, we’ve been married for five years. I’m a normal man. Eating the exact same dish every single day gets boring.” “The pressure at work is crushing. Sometimes I just need to release the negative energy, but you are my wife. I have to respect you.” “Aside from physical fidelity, I can give you absolutely everything else you want.” I looked at him through tear-blurred eyes, desperately wanting to ask one question. Do you still love me? But I didn’t say a single word. He had already cheated. Whether he loved me or not was entirely irrelevant now. 02 I washed my face, absolutely determined to get a divorce. Carter wasn’t surprised. He calmly advised me to cool down and think it through carefully. It was true. Even after I caught him cheating, he remained perfectly emotionally stable, handling the situation with flawless composure. Even after I slapped him with every ounce of strength I had, he just looked at me with those calm, steady eyes, as if he were watching a toddler throw a tantrum. When I raised my arm to slap him again, he caught my wrist effortlessly. The biological difference in strength meant I couldn’t break free. Instead, he pulled me tightly into his chest, trapping me in his arms. The embrace that used to bring me so much warmth now sent a freezing chill straight to my bones. He tried to talk me out of it. My parents tried to talk me out of it. Even my best friend told me not to do it. Yes, in the eyes of everyone else—including my own parents—I was no longer worthy of the man Carter had become. The only reason I had him was that I got in early. I stayed by his side during the most agonizing, brutal days of launching his startup. It was like a high-risk venture capital investment, and I hit the absolute jackpot. He achieved massive wealth and status, and I got to sit back and reap the rewards. To divorce him meant losing a massive sunk cost, and I would become the laughingstock of our social circle. A lie repeated often enough becomes the truth. And for a moment… I hesitated. To placate me, Carter truly put in a staggering amount of effort. Expensive gifts flowed into the house like water. Aside from diamonds and jewelry, he bought me a luxury yacht, and a private island in the Caribbean. The island came fully staffed with a villa, infinity pools, and a private estate manager. He even cleared his schedule for two entire weeks to take me on the yacht to vacation on the island. We watched the sunrise over the ocean, ate freshly caught bluefin tuna prepared by a private chef, walked barefoot on the white sand beaches, and watched the brilliant, bleeding sunsets. He treated me better, more attentively, than when we first started dating. And for a second, I felt like maybe I was starting to heal… Until the dead of night. Carter had just showered. His warm body, still radiating the damp heat of the shower, wrapped around me from behind. But my brain couldn’t stop flashing back to the chat logs I had seen on his phone. He never responded to the girl’s cutesy good-morning texts or daily selfies. But when she asked him to pick out which lingerie set she should wear… He replied. Even though it was just one word. My heart felt like it was being crushed by a steel claw, tightening inch by inch. “When you sleep with her… do you kiss her?” I asked the question with freezing cold precision. The hand resting on my waist instantly went rigid. I violently ripped his arm off me and sprinted to the bathroom. The exquisite, Michelin-star dinner we had earlier ended up as a disgusting pile of vomit in the toilet bowl. Our two-week romantic getaway ended in exactly two days. 03 After that, I turned into a paranoid detective, obsessively scouring his clothes for any microscopic clue. There were no lipstick stains on his collars. No lingering cheap perfume. They were perfectly, immaculately clean. I found absolutely nothing. But the next time he came home late, the wire that had been twisting tighter and tighter inside me finally snapped. After I threw a hysterical, screaming fit, he started giving me the cold shoulder. When I realized I had turned into a bitter, paranoid, miserable housewife, I panicked. But the ultimate, bitter irony was… I found out I was pregnant. This should have been the greatest, most miraculous surprise in the world. I had wanted a baby for years, but we just couldn’t conceive. We went to top fertility specialists. My body was fine. His body was fine. It just wasn’t happening. We put IVF on the schedule. I endured hundreds of agonizing hormone injections. I suffered tremendously. When I found out he cheated, the emotional devastation was so severe I actually experienced some spotting, but I was too consumed by grief to care. I never expected that when this little life I had prayed for so desperately finally arrived… I no longer wanted it. I didn’t tell Carter. I went to a private clinic and had an abortion. When I woke up from the anesthesia, my soul felt completely hollowed out. I just stared blankly at the ceiling. That was when Carter appeared. His face was ghostly pale, his eyes overflowing with crushing disappointment. “Chloe, is this your way of getting revenge on me? The baby was innocent…” “Exactly. That’s why I couldn’t let it be born. A child forced to live in a loveless home is a tragedy.” “Carter. I want a divorce.” I repeated the sentence, my face completely numb. “No. We are not getting divorced.” He was even more absolute about it than I was. 04 Five years passed. Today, we are nothing more than strangers living under the same roof. The women by Carter’s side had changed. I heard his current favorite was a girl from the local ballet conservatory. She was vibrant, full of life, and had an incredibly flexible dancer’s body. He seemed to really favor her; she had lasted over six months without being replaced. The last time I saw him was a few days ago. The scenario was incredibly clichéd. There was a pile-up on the highway, and his car rear-ended mine. He was probably taking the girl to his beach house for the weekend. She was wearing a floral sundress and a wide-brimmed straw hat. She didn’t know who I was. The second she stepped out of the car, she was panicking and apologizing profusely. “I am so, so sorry! It’s completely my fault! I was trying to feed my boyfriend a snack while he was driving and it distracted him. He has a really bad stomach, and we rushed out this morning before he could eat breakfast…” She bit down nervously on her lip, coated in cherry-pink gloss. A healthy, rosy flush colored her soft, flawless cheeks. She was radiant, youthful, and so captivatingly beautiful you couldn’t look away. “It’s fine.” I looked past her to Carter, giving him a faint smile. “Next Thursday is our ten-year anniversary. Let’s get dinner.” Carter’s gaze remained perfectly calm and unreadable. But the young girl’s face instantly went ghost white. She looked at me in horror, then looked desperately at Carter, instinctively pressing her body against his arm for comfort. Like a fragile little bird needing protection. But Carter subtly, seamlessly stepped away, breaking the contact. “I’ll have my driver take you home.” “No need. I have somewhere to be. I won’t ruin your weekend plans.” The impact hadn’t been severe, but the seatbelt had jerked hard against my stomach. I needed to make sure the baby was okay. I got back into my car. Just as I went to pull the door shut, a heavy hand clamped down on the window frame. A large shadow fell over me. “Chloe, do you really have absolutely nothing else to say to me?” Carter looked down at me, his eyes dark and heavy with suppressed emotion. “Like what?” My tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Did you want me to throw a hysterical fit and beat up your mistress on the side of the highway?” I let out a soft laugh. “Don’t insult my intelligence. The millions of dollars you transfer to my accounts every year are more than enough to buy my silence.” “We’ll talk on Thursday.” Carter kept his arm braced against the door, staring at me with intense, swirling aggression hidden just beneath the surface. I met his gaze with absolute, chilling calm. Finally, he withdrew his hand. I hit the gas, merged back onto the highway, and changed lanes. Once I cleared the bottleneck of the accident, the road ahead was wide open and blindingly bright. I was married to Carter for five years, enduring hundreds of agonizing IVF injections, and couldn’t get pregnant. But the second I swapped out the biological father, getting pregnant became the easiest thing in the world. It seemed Carter and I truly had no destiny together. We were fated to walk completely different paths. 05 Because I gave him a heads-up, Carter arrived at the restaurant early. He even brought a gift. A meticulously selected ruby necklace. Top-tier, flawless pigeon-blood red. During our five years of unofficial separation, even though we rarely saw each other, the luxury gifts never stopped, and they were always obscenely expensive. By any superficial, materialistic metric, I had absolutely won this marriage. “I want a divorce.” After dropping the bomb that I cheated and was pregnant with another man’s child, I pulled the divorce papers out of my designer bag. I didn’t want to drag this out in a messy, protracted legal battle, so I was incredibly generous with the asset division. However, even after hearing that I was voluntarily surrendering all my equity shares in his company, Carter’s face remained perfectly blank as he asked: “Is Ethan the father?” Before I could even answer, he let out a harsh, mocking sneer. “You’re divorcing me so you can marry Ethan and have his kid?” “And then what?” “Are you actually delusional enough to believe Ethan won’t cheat on you?” I stayed silent. Carter’s words grew increasingly vicious. “Do you honestly believe in those fairy tales about the ultimate playboy suddenly reforming for true love?” “He’s slept with more women than I could even count. Aren’t you terrified of catching something?” Unlike Carter, who built his empire from nothing, Ethan was born into old, untouchable wealth. He was a notorious, unapologetic playboy in our social circles. But despite his chaotic personal life, his business instincts were lethal. He was Carter’s very first angel investor. Since they were around the same age, their purely transactional relationship slowly evolved into a genuine, ironclad brotherhood. Back in the day, whenever we ran into each other, Ethan would enthusiastically call me “Sister-in-Law.” I had no shortage of wealthy suitors before I got married, so I knew exactly what a man’s eyes looked like when he wanted you. Ethan’s eyes when he looked at me were never innocent. That was exactly why, when I wanted revenge, I chose him. I don’t know if it was because I rejected him at the absolute last second, but Ethan actually became obsessed with me after that night. The baby wasn’t Ethan’s, but I felt absolutely zero obligation to explain that to Carter. “Carter, you aren’t getting any younger. Didn’t you always desperately want a child? Once we divorce…” I deflected his interrogation, gently advising him to look toward his own future. But Carter’s lips were pressed into a tight, hard line. His eyes dropped to my stomach. His gaze turned terrifyingly dangerous, making every nerve in my body snap to high alert. “Chloe. You are going to have my child.” He spoke slowly, enunciating every single syllable. His voice was as cold and sharp as a scalpel. Five years ago, Carter had absolutely, categorically refused to divorce me. He threatened and bribed my divorce attorneys. He used his corporate influence to blacklist me across the entire legal industry, ensuring no reputable lawyer would take my case. He was willing to use the most ruthless, sociopathic methods to force our shattered marriage to stay intact. “Carter, I don’t want this to turn into an ugly, public spectacle. If you refuse to sign, I’ll go straight to the media.” “Let’s just end this with some shred of dignity, okay?” But he refused to budge. A crushing, suffocating wave of exhaustion washed over me. I raised my hand to rub my temples. Suddenly, he violently grabbed my wrist. His voice was hoarse and broken. “Abort the baby. Tell me whatever you want—money, property, shares—I will give you everything. We are not getting divorced.” “From now on… we will live a good, perfect life together.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “441663”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

To inherit a massive fortune, I married an old billionaire with one foot in the grave. I agonizingly counted down the days until he finally kicked the bucket. Only to find out he was leaving his entire estate to his eldest son. Hell no! I frantically posted an ad online, “Paying top dollar for a sperm donor,” hoping to secure a piece of the pie with a pregnancy. But right at the crucial moment… A row of floating text suddenly drifted across my vision. [Cannon fodder is always cannon fodder. So stupid. There’s a perfectly good man right next to her, yet she looks elsewhere.] [Sis, haven’t you noticed your stepson looking at you like a starving wolf?] [No! Don’t look for other men! The villain will completely snap and destroy the world!] [Author, please punish this shameless woman!] [Hehe, looking forward to the dark room play later~] I froze, looking in shock at the young man who had always been polite and gentle to me. 01 “Stepmother, is something wrong?” The young man asked with a polite smile. I snapped back to reality. “Ah? Oh, nothing.” I looked away. After a while, I peeked over again. The floating comments hadn’t disappeared; more had actually popped up. [Is this something a human brain could come up with?] [I’m speechless. Shouldn’t a normal person be sucking up to the heir right now? What the hell is ‘paying top dollar for a baby daddy’?] [Author, just kill her off already! My blood pressure is spiking.] [Hehe, I think it’s great. A beautiful idiot playing smart, only to be locked up and punished by her gentlemanly but secretly dark and twisted stepson. Damn, that’s hot!] [Living under the same roof for seven years and still hasn’t noticed Silas’s feelings for her. If she doesn’t need her eyes, she should donate them!] Me: “…” I really hadn’t noticed. 02 The old man was garbage, but his parenting was undeniably authoritative. Silas was so upright it was almost eerie. At twenty-two, when other kids needed their parents’ permission to open a can of soup, he had already fast-tracked his master’s degree and was taking over the family enterprise. Elegant, polite, flawless… those were the words outsiders used to describe him. Around me, he was strictly by the book. Like right now. After getting my “nothing” answer, even though he felt my gaze return to him, he didn’t ask again, calmly letting me stare. His eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses were fixed on his laptop. His profile was handsome, exuding a steady and almost ascetic aura that contrasted sharply with our materialistic world. Would someone so rigidly old-fashioned covet his young stepmother? Yeah, I must be hallucinating from binge-watching too much TV. I curled my lip and ignored the comments. 03 [He’s faking it! He can hold more than a Walmart shopping bag.] [He knows his stepmom is looking at him. To show off his perfect jawline, he’s pressing his tongue so hard against the roof of his mouth it might pierce through.] [I bet a bag of chips he’s Googling ‘Does inheritance law include the father’s wife’.] [Hereditary succession? Hahahaha…] Okay! I couldn’t ignore that. I decided to test it. I spotted a lipstick, knocked it off the table while reaching for my cup, and called out: “Silas.” The man looked up. “I tweaked my neck and can’t bend down. Could you pick that up for me?” Silas looked at where the lipstick had fallen, the permanent smile on his lips stiffening slightly. “Martha—” “Don’t call Martha,” I interrupted. “You’re closer. By the time she walks over, you’ll be done.” If he refused now, it would be weird. We locked eyes for two seconds. He nodded slightly. “Alright.” He walked over, squatted down, and reached into the gap between my leg and the sofa. I was wearing a tight pencil skirt that rested above my knees. As he got closer, I could feel his warm breath on my bare skin, sparking a tingling sensation. I forced myself to stay still. And watched the comments change: [Whoa, whoa, whoa? Why is she suddenly rewarding him?] [‘His eyes met an expanse of snowy white. The calf beneath the skirt was beautifully contoured, the ankle slender. Like fine jade, radiating a lustrous glow…’ Oh my god, looking through the villain’s POV, I’m falling in love with the stepmom too! So seductive!] [I’m afraid he’s going to lick it in the next second.] [Oh boy, someone’s going to have to cross his legs soon~] “Stepmother.” His voice snapped me back. I took the lipstick and stuck my tongue out playfully. “Thanks, Silas.” “You’re welcome.” He smiled back and returned to his laptop. From start to finish, not even the tips of his ears turned red. As if he really just picked something up and felt absolutely nothing. What the hell. The comments were definitely trolling me. Not expecting much anyway, I wasn’t too disappointed. Just found it funny. After all these years, I knew Silas better than anyone. I was crazy to believe those floating words. Feeling a bit bored, I got up to go back to my room for a nap. But right then. In my peripheral vision. Silas quietly adjusted his posture, crossing his legs. He even shifted his body slightly to the other side, as if hiding something. …Huh? 04 [The sister above called it! He crossed his legs hahahaha.] [Stepmom, hurry upstairs! Our tough guy desperately needs to go to his room for a cold shower.] [Please be precise, it’s ‘relieve himself’ and a cold shower! Two different things.] [Spitting facts.] … Who said these comments were nonsense? They were amazing! To make sure it wasn’t a coincidence, I tested him a few more times over the next few days. Every time, the comments proved their worth. I had to admit. —This kid was a master of disguise. And from the scattered info in the comments, I learned something even crazier. I was living inside a novel. Silas was the main villain. I was his cannon fodder stepmother, whose mindless antics would push him to the dark side before I was hastily killed off. Let me tell you something about that. Seven years. Do you know how I survived these seven years?! Facing an old fossil who could be my grandfather, waiting day and night to become a wealthy widow and collect my “emotional damage compensation.” Finally, the dream was about to come true. But the old bastard announced he was leaving his entire estate to Silas. I only got the rights to his ashes. Ha. Who the hell cares about a jar of calcium carbonate? Can I pawn it?! Furious and terrified of becoming penniless, I lost my mind. I saw a trending news story about a woman getting millions in child support from an out-of-wedlock pregnancy. Maybe that could work for me? I decided to gamble. The old man was delirious anyway; who would know if the baby was his? Get the money first. But before I could execute my plan. The heavens warned me it wouldn’t work. And gave me a simpler, more efficient, and safer method. 05 The old man hadn’t kicked the bucket yet. So the inheritance distribution was just a draft. But Silas, as the heir apparent, was already busy. Dinners, galas… Perfect for me. “Silas, you’re back?” The man changing his shoes in the entryway looked up. His face was normal, his posture steady. Aside from a slightly unfocused gaze, he didn’t look drunk at all. He paused for a second and frowned: “Stepmother, it’s late. Why are you still up?” I hurried over. I naturally slipped my hands into the crook of his arm, supporting him. “How could I sleep when you aren’t home? I had to see you return safely.” The moment the teasing, affectionate words left my mouth. I felt his body stiffen, and his footsteps halted completely. [Something’s wrong. Extremely wrong.] [Is she… not wearing… a bra…] [‘The warm body temperature and soft touch pressed against Silas’s arm through the thin nightgown fabric. In that instant, he felt all the alcohol kick in. His brain buzzed, and he only wanted to push the woman in front of him to the floor and taste every inch of her skin…’ Bro, stop just thinking about it! Do it!] [The old man never legally married her anyway, what are you worried about!] [Stepmom isn’t doing this on purpose, right?] [Sister above… is she?] [Who cares if it’s on purpose! The mood is set! Silas, go for it ahhhhhhhh!!!] The air was dead silent. I looked at him with eyes full of concern. “Silas, what’s wrong? Your eyes are so red. Do you have a fever?” I reached up to touch his face. Cool fingers met a burning cheek. A hidden shudder ran through Silas, and his eyes grew even redder. “Stepmom, you…” He trailed off, unusually dropping his formal tone. Thrilled, I leaned closer, feigning confusion: “Silas, what did you say? I didn’t catch that.” I was wearing ylang-ylang perfume today. As the distance closed, the seductive scent seemed to intentionally drill into his nose. Silas looked down at me, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. A fierce battle between morality and lust. After what felt like an eternity. Five minutes? Ten? Or just a few seconds. He moved. He pulled his arm from my grasp and stepped back. Under my stunned gaze. He smirked. A polite, formal smile devoid of any emotion. “Apologies, stepmother. I smell like alcohol, I don’t want to bother you. “I’m home now, so you can sleep peacefully. “Goodnight.” He bowed slightly and turned to walk upstairs without hesitation. His suit jacket remained draped over his arm, still hiding something. In the blink of an eye, I was left alone in the massive first floor. I stood there dazed for a few seconds, then violently kicked the stool near my feet. Damn it!!! 06 [Silas, just give the word, and we’ll crown you the new king of self-control.] [This guy’s emotional walls are so high, even the stepmom can’t break in.] [Keep lying to yourself, let’s see how long you last!] [Before, when stepmom ignored you, you cried under your covers at night. Now that she’s close to you, you act like this. Good luck relying on your right hand.] [Don’t be like that, guys. I think the author made it clear early on: ‘Under his father’s twisted upbringing, Silas learned to suppress his true nature. He likes things, but he never hopes to obtain them—toys, food, and even his stepmother.’ He planned to bury this forbidden love forever and play the role of ‘son’. So it’s normal for him to hold back, right? Why call it faking?] [Agreed. It’s all that dead old man’s fault!] [Fine, let him keep holding back! When stepmom goes and pays for a sperm donor, he’ll lose it.] [Ha, so you’re saying stepmom degrading herself to buy a baby daddy is the right thing to do?] [The morals in this comment section are worrying.] [By the way, why did stepmom suddenly change her attitude? Did I miss a chapter?] Some things look simple but are ridiculously hard to execute. At first, I thought: Silas covets me, I covet his… inheritance. Isn’t this a perfect match? If I drop a few hints, wouldn’t he jump at the chance? So I started dropping massive hints. Before, I only pretended to care about him in front of the old man. Now, I was treating him like a fragile egg. Bringing him a coat when it was cold, an umbrella when it rained, pouring his water to exactly 95 degrees Fahrenheit. Silas definitely noticed. But he maintained a strict ‘non-compliance’ policy. You are my elder, how can I trouble you with such trivial matters? Let the maids do it. He always looked so righteous and serious. But above his head, the thirsty comments betrayed him. It was driving me schizophrenic. Fine, maybe I wasn’t being obvious enough. I needed to turn it up a notch. Today, the driver told me Silas was forced to drink a lot at a business dinner. I quickly sent the maids home early, took a scented bath, slipped into a sexy yet innocent slip dress, and waited for him. Late night, drunk, young guy, mature woman… One with wicked thoughts, the other actively seducing. I couldn’t think of a reason for him not to lose control. But… sigh, he really didn’t. Did he train as a monk?! Watching the arguing comments. I felt like I had fallen into a trap. Move forward? Silas was a fortress with no cracks. Retreat? I wasn’t willing. I had a chance to get the whole inheritance. Tsk. But what else could I do? I had used all my tricks. I couldn’t really do what the comments said and pull a “paying for a sperm donor” stunt to provoke— Wait. My gaze sharpened. …Why not?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “441664”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I woke up to the piercing cries of an infant. Opening my eyes, I realized I was lying on a hospital bed right next to my mother, who had just given birth to my baby brother. It hit me instantly. I had been reborn, brought back to the exact day the kidnapper swapped my brother. To confirm my suspicion, I peeked toward the sound of the crying. Sure enough, I saw a strange man roughly yanking the engraved gold baby bracelet off my brother’s wrist and slipping it onto the wrist of his own child. Because his movements were so violent, my real brother started wailing at the top of his lungs. The man, his face twisting with impatience, delivered a brutal slap that knocked the infant unconscious. Sensing something, the man suddenly glanced in my direction. I quickly squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be fast asleep. In my previous life, to stop him from taking my brother, my three-year-old self had desperately clung to the man’s leg. In response, the criminal kicked me so hard I flew into the wall, shattering several of my ribs. Enduring the agonizing pain, I had screamed for help with everything I had, eventually drawing the attention of the nurses. Furious that I had ruined his plan, the criminal pulled out a knife and slashed it deeply across my face. “You ruined my kid’s chance at a good life, so you don’t get to live a good life either,” he had hissed. From that day on, my face was severely disfigured. I spent a long, agonizing time recovering in the hospital. I didn’t even start first grade until I was nine years old, placed in the same class as the brother I had saved. Throughout my school years, my scars made me the target of relentless bullying and mockery. Even my own parents and the very brother I saved looked at me with undisguised disgust. It was as if my mere existence was an unbearable humiliation to them. I had no choice but to study like my life depended on it. I wanted to get into a top-tier university, secure a good job, and escape my family to live my own life. But I never could have imagined what would happen during our senior year. After I successfully secured our high school’s sole early-admission recommendation to an Ivy League university, my brother ran me over with his car. All for the sake of Chloe Evans, a poor student our family had been financially sponsoring. All because he had fallen in love with her. As I lay dying, he stared down at me with pure venom. “Don’t blame me, Lily. Blame yourself for being so selfish. You should have given the Ivy League spot to Chloe.” He even mocked me. “You ugly freak, you deserved to be disfigured. Everything you’ve suffered is exactly what you deserve for how you act.” But I was disfigured because I saved him. What shocked me even more was that when my parents found out what he had done, they didn’t blame him for a single second. Instead, they helped him destroy the evidence and cover up my murder. In those final moments, I swore an oath. If I ever got a second chance, I would respect his fate. I would never play the hero again. Now, lying in the hospital bed, I listened as the heavy footsteps faded down the hall and the door clicked shut. When I opened my eyes again, the criminal was gone. And with him, my biological brother. My mother woke up right at that moment. She asked me, “Lily, was your baby brother just crying?” I tilted my head, flashing a sweet, innocent smile. “Was he? I didn’t hear anything, Mommy.” My mother looked slightly confused. “I must have been dreaming.” A week later, my mother and my new, fake brother—Tyler Harper—were discharged from the hospital. I was enrolled in a local preschool. This time, without the scars, my teachers and classmates were incredibly kind to me. There was no bullying. There was no mockery. No one looked at me like I was a monster. I finally had the peaceful, perfect life I always dreamed of. 02 Time flew by, and ten years passed in the blink of an eye. One weekend, our family went to a crowded street carnival. Suddenly, someone bumped hard into Tyler and snatched his new smartphone. I recognized the thief instantly. It was my biological brother. He looked drastically different from my previous life. He was dark, emaciated, and wearing filthy, oversized clothes. He limped heavily as he ran. It was glaringly obvious that he was living a miserable life. The sight of him brought back a sharp memory from my past life. When he and his friends were mocking my disfigured face, I had finally snapped, screaming that he had no right to treat me like that when I took the blade for him. He had just sneered at me. “I never asked you to save me. Someone as brilliant and capable as me would have thrived even if I was raised in a murderer’s house. Stop trying to guilt-trip me.” Seeing how “brilliantly” he was thriving now, a wave of deep relief washed over me. Seeing my parents about to chase after him, I quickly faked a dramatic trip and fell hard onto the pavement. My real brother looked exactly like my father. If my dad caught a good look at his face, he would undoubtedly get suspicious. Unlike my past life, because I was flawless and at the top of my class, my image-obsessed parents actually valued me. They immediately abandoned the chase and rushed to my side. “Lily! Are you okay?!” I watched my biological brother disappear into the dense crowd, letting out a quiet breath. I looked up at my parents. “I’m fine, my hands just got a little scraped. It hurts a bit.” Meanwhile, my fake brother, Tyler, was absolutely furious about his stolen phone. He cursed loudly, “That piece of trash! If I ever see him again, I swear to God I’ll kill him!” I lowered my eyes and said nothing. The world was a very small place. I needed to make sure I nudged things in the right direction. 03 Tyler spent the rest of the day scanning the crowds like a hawk. When my parents went to the public restrooms, Tyler suddenly grabbed my arm. “Lily, I see that little rat.” Before I could say anything, he shot off like a rocket into the crowd. Seeing my parents hadn’t come out yet, I sighed in relief and jogged after him. This time, because my real brother had his guard down, Tyler easily cornered him in a narrow alleyway. Trapped, my real brother started cursing aggressively. “You filthy rich snobs! You have so much money, why are you being so cheap?! It’s just one phone, why do you have to be so petty?!” His temper was exactly the same as in his previous life. He loved playing the victim and blaming everyone else for his own actions. Tyler let out a dark laugh. “So because we have money, we’re supposed to just let people rob us?” My real brother put on a shameless, defiant smirk. “Alright, shut up. I gave the phone back, so let me go. I’m a minor. The cops can’t do anything to me anyway.” Tyler wasn’t the type to swallow an insult. He inherited his biological father’s reckless, violent temperament. He hated studying and loved picking fights. He kicked my real brother hard in the stomach, slamming him into the brick wall. “What a coincidence. I’m a minor too. As long as I don’t beat you to death, the cops can’t do anything to me either.” Panic finally flashed across my real brother’s face. I watched coldly from the sidelines. Just like he had coldly watched his friends torment me in our past life. Just as Tyler raised his fist to keep hitting him, a young girl sprinted into the alley and threw herself in front of my real brother. “Stop hitting him! Mason’s dad is severely ill! He had no other choice, that’s why he took your phone!” What an absolute, bold-faced lie. Arthur Davies, Mason’s father, had never been severely ill a day in his life. When I got a clear look at the girl’s face, my brow furrowed. What a coincidence. I knew this girl too. It was Chloe Evans—the poor scholarship student from my past life, and the exact reason I was murdered. 04 I wasn’t actually surprised she was here. In my past life, Chloe and my fake brother, Tyler, were childhood sweethearts who grew up together. Now that Mason and Tyler’s identities were swapped, Mason had naturally become Chloe’s childhood sweetheart instead. Tears welled up in Chloe’s eyes as she looked at Tyler pitifully. “I made Mason give your phone back. Please, just let him go. Please?” Tyler was a notorious terror who never listened to anyone. But the moment he saw Chloe crying, he visibly softened. “Alright, fine. Stop crying. I’m not totally unreasonable.” For a second, I felt like I had been pulled back into my previous life. After I won the Ivy League recommendation, Chloe had cried exactly like this to Mason. Mason, acting like a thug, was furious that his precious childhood friend was crying. He rallied a group of his delinquent friends and ordered them to assault me. His excuse was that he needed to “teach me a lesson” so I wouldn’t covet things that didn’t belong to me. I fought back with everything I had, but their filthy hands grabbed at me relentlessly. It wasn’t until one of them ripped the medical mask off my face, exposing my horrific scars, that they backed away in disgust. “What an ugly freak.” “I wouldn’t touch this trash even if you paid me.” “Damn, looking at that face makes me wanna throw up.” My ruined face was the only thing that saved me from being assaulted that day. When I got home, I scrubbed myself in the shower for four straight hours. I scrubbed until my skin was bleeding raw, then collapsed in the tub, sobbing uncontrollably. I thought I had survived the worst of it. But after that, I suffered from severe night terrors. Every time I closed my eyes, I relived that alleyway. The ugly faces, the sickening smell, the slimy hands grabbing at my clothes. Whenever I saw a man on the street, I would tremble and feel violently nauseous. I realized then that the trauma would never, ever pass. It was suffocatingly disgusting. A cold breeze blew through the alley, snapping me back to the present. I couldn’t suppress a violent shudder. Noticing my pale face, Tyler asked casually, “Lily, what’s wrong?” I glanced at him, burying the deep revulsion in my heart. I was about to say I was fine when Chloe suddenly grabbed my sleeve, dropping to her knees. “Sister, are you refusing to let him go? Please, I’m begging you, just let Mason go. He’s already suffered so much.” I stared down at her for a long time. She really hadn’t changed at all. She still loved positioning herself as the helpless victim, using tears to morally blackmail everyone around her. Even Tyler tried to persuade me. “Lily, let’s just drop it.” My expression remained perfectly calm. “I have no interest in fighting with a kid. However, I need to speak to his mother. I need to warn her to discipline her son properly. Right now he’s just a petty thief, but if she keeps letting him run wild, who knows what kind of monster he’ll become.” Hearing that I was going to his mother, the fearless, arrogant Mason finally showed a flicker of genuine terror in his eyes. 05 It didn’t take long to find his current mother, Brenda Davies. She was a solidly built, tough-looking middle-aged woman. The moment she saw Tyler and me, sheer panic flashed across her face. It was incredibly obvious that she knew the truth about the hospital swap. She nervously checked the street behind us. Once she realized we were alone, she forced herself to calm down. “What… what are you doing here?” When I explained why we were there, she let out a massive, visible sigh of relief. “Don’t worry. I will discipline him properly.” The moment she said that, Mason flinched, shrinking into himself. I nodded, making my tone deliberately meaningful. “Your son got extremely lucky today running into me and my brother. If my parents had caught him, they wouldn’t have been so kind. They wouldn’t have let him off easily.” Brenda’s face darkened as the implication hit her. “I understand. I’ll keep a tight leash on him. I promise I won’t let him wander around making a fool of himself anymore.” She grabbed Mason by the collar and violently shoved him into the house, locking the front door behind him. “You sit in there and think about what you’ve done.” After locking him away, she turned to Tyler with a fawning, overly eager smile. “Young man, would you like to come in and sit for a bit? I just bought some fresh fruit, and I have candy inside.” Tyler looked at her with pure disgust. “I’m not going in there. Your house looks filthy.” With that, he turned and started walking away. Brenda looked like she wanted to chase after him to say more, but she ultimately stopped herself. She turned and walked into her house. Within seconds, the muffled sounds of Mason howling in agony echoed from inside. Brenda was taking out all her frustration over Tyler’s rejection directly on Mason. As Tyler and I walked out of the neighborhood, Chloe waved at us from a distance, smiling her sweetest, most innocent smile. “Bye, pretty sister! Bye, handsome boy!” Pretty sister? Hearing that come out of Chloe’s mouth was incredibly ironic. In my past life, when my brother ran me over with his car, she was sitting right there in the passenger seat. As I lay on the pavement, bleeding out and struggling to breathe, she stepped out of the car, leaned down close to my ear, and whispered her final words to me: “Ugly freak, you brought this entirely on yourself. You didn’t listen to Mason’s warnings, so you can just go ahead and die.” Right now, seeing Chloe’s sweet, lingering farewell, Tyler suddenly stopped and turned around, looking like he wanted to run back and talk to her. I grabbed his arm tightly. “Enough. Let’s go. Mom and Dad are going to start panicking if they can’t find us.” In just a few short minutes, Tyler had already developed a crush on Chloe. If I let them interact any further, who knows what kind of psychotic things he would do for her in the future. I had absolutely no intention of watching my past life repeat itself. Tyler reluctantly followed me away. Because of that, he didn’t see the innocent, sweet smile drop completely from Chloe’s face the second we turned our backs. The dark, calculating look in her eyes looked nothing like a harmless little bunny.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “441665”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I didn’t expect the jumbotron camera to pan to me. When my face was projected onto the massive screen, Liam’s voice noticeably faltered mid-song. After the concert ended, my phone buzzed with a text message: [What’s wrong? Regretting it now?] I stared at that familiar number, frozen for a long time. In the end, I didn’t reply, simply slipping the phone back into my coat pocket. The notification chimed twice more in rapid succession: [Didn’t you say you’d never settle for someone like me in a million years? Maya Vance?] [It’s too late for regrets anyway. Now I’m the one who looks down on vain gold-diggers like you.] … I didn’t reply. A long time later, my phone pinged again. It was from Liam: [Stop peeping into my life acting like a fan.] I hadn’t booked a hotel. From the stadium where Liam performed back to my apartment, it took nine hours and thirteen minutes, transferring through various trains and buses. So, nine hours and thirteen minutes later, Liam received a text from me: [Liam, I wish you a bright and beautiful future.] After the text sent successfully, I mixed a handful of brightly colored pills into a slice of cake and swallowed it all down. … My suicide attempt failed. The neighbor from the next apartment over came to borrow some salt, found me, and rushed me to the ER. I hadn’t set up an emergency contact, and my phone book didn’t even have a single entry for “Mom” or “Dad.” Desperate, the hospital staff called the last person I had contacted: Liam. When I woke up, Liam was sitting beside me. He was still wearing his concert outfit, the stage makeup only half-wiped off. His glamorous appearance starkly contrasted with the sterile, glaringly white hospital room. Seeing my eyes open, Liam spoke: “You’re awake?” I asked, “Why are you here?” Liam crossed his arms, wearing an expression that said he had already figured it all out: “Drop the act, Maya. Didn’t you tell the hospital to call me?” I lowered my eyes: “I didn’t.” He uncrossed his legs and leaned in closer, saying: “You clearly have so much family, so many relatives and friends. Tell me, Maya, why did the hospital just happen to call the ex-boyfriend you haven’t spoken to in three years? “Faking a suicide is just pathetic. Even if you saw my success and regretted your choices, you could have at least picked a classier way to try and win me back. Maybe then I’d have given you a second glance. But pulling a stunt like this only makes me despise you more.” Liam’s words hammered against my eardrums one by one. My chest tightened painfully, yet I couldn’t utter a single word in my defense. He stood up from the chair, looking down at me. My face was pale from the stomach pumping. His thin lips parted again: “Next time you want to kill yourself, pick a more efficient method. Taking sleeping pills is just a cry for attention. It won’t kill you.” With that, Liam turned and left, seemingly unwilling to spare me another glance. Half my face buried in the pillow, I finally managed to defend myself with one sentence: “It wasn’t sleeping pills.” What kind of pills were they? I didn’t even know myself. I just knew sleeping pills were hard to get a prescription for, and even if I did, the dosage wouldn’t be nearly enough to be lethal. So I just picked the cheapest over-the-counter meds I could find and bought a random assortment. On the way home from the concert, for the first time in over twenty years, I bought myself a beautiful, delicate little cake. The pills were too bitter; I needed something sweet to wash them down. But it was late when I got back, and the bakery only had one chocolate cake left… and it wasn’t sweet at all. My not-so-long life was coming to an end, and I didn’t even get to taste a little sweetness at the very finish line. 02 Liam was photographed at the hospital last night, and rumors started swirling that I was his secret girlfriend. Because it was a hospital, and someone leaked that I had my stomach pumped, plus others claiming they saw me at the concert, the speculation ran wild. Add in the haters spreading fake news, and the rumors quickly escalated into absurdity. Things like, “Liam sleeps with fans and abandons them, driving the girl to suicide out of despair.” Overnight, Liam plummeted from “America’s Boyfriend” to a universally despised scumbag. I looked at the trending topics that refused to drop, pulled out my phone, and called Liam. It rang for a long time before he finally answered: “What do you want?” Liam’s voice was hoarse. He had probably been up all night dealing with the fallout. I gripped the phone tightly: “This is my fault. However you need me to clarify things, I will cooperate.” Liam let out a short, cynical laugh on the other end, ignoring my statement and instead asking: “Maya, did you only call because you feel guilty for causing me trouble?” What else? What other reason could there be? Because I was worried about him? Because I was scared? Scared that after three years, his career and his future would be dragged down by me yet again? I couldn’t say it. After a long silence, Liam finally sighed: “Clarifying this isn’t as simple as you think. Wait for my PR team’s instructions. But Maya, you said it yourself—this whole mess started because of you. So no matter what happens, you have to cooperate, even if it means…” “Means what?” I asked. Liam mumbled for a bit before saying: “Never mind, it’s nothing. Keep your phone on. Send me a message every half hour. Otherwise, if you run off and refuse to take responsibility, who am I supposed to complain to?” I wouldn’t run away. And I certainly wouldn’t refuse to take responsibility. I set an alarm and sent Liam a message every thirty minutes. Sometimes it was a random photo I took, sometimes a punctuation mark, sometimes an emoji. But mostly, I asked him how the situation was going. Liam never replied to any of them. Only when I repeatedly asked him about the situation did he finally send a warning: “Ask that question one more time, and we switch to FaceTime every half hour.” I had no choice but to tirelessly try and find topics to text him about. Occasionally, if I hit on something that interested him, Liam would mercifully reply with a few words. I knew Liam wasn’t doing this because he was afraid I’d run away. He was afraid I’d try to kill myself again. Since he couldn’t physically be there to watch me, he resorted to this clumsy method to keep an eye on me. But… I closed my eyes. The auditory hallucinations were getting worse. The voices in my ears were a chaotic jumble, and my head felt like it was going to split open. But Liam, I tried so hard to eat something, but I kept throwing it all back up. I tried everything, but I just couldn’t get a good night’s sleep. I was constantly plagued by panic, terror, and an overwhelming sadness… Liam, it seemed that all my longing, my guilt, my hopes for you—they were no longer enough to keep me alive. It was too agonizing. Truly, every minute, every second, was unbearable agony. Even eating candy didn’t help. 03 Liam’s manager came to see me. Compared to three years ago, he had put on some weight, a slight beer belly now noticeable. I heard he got married and had a cute little daughter. “Maya,” David set his bulging briefcase down and casually took a seat across from me. “How do you always manage to cause such monumental disasters?” I slid a glass of water toward him and offered a self-deprecating smile: “I guess it’s a special talent of mine.” David ignored my joke and bluntly dumped stacks of cash from his bag onto the table: “This situation is complicated. Given that you attended Liam’s concert right before your suicide attempt, and the hospital called him directly when you were brought in, simply stating you two are just friends won’t cut it. The fans and the public won’t buy it. They’ll just turn on Liam even harder, accusing him of dodging responsibility, which will only make things worse.” I glanced at the piles of cash on the table and asked: “So, how do you plan to resolve this?” David leaned forward, interlacing his fingers: “People have already dug up the fact that you two used to date. So, to protect Liam’s reputation, our only option is to say that after an amicable breakup, you couldn’t let go and attempted suicide to threaten him. Liam only showed up at the hospital to save your life.” David paused, then continued: “But don’t worry, I’m a businessman. I understand the concept of a fair trade. So tell me how much you want, name your price. If this isn’t enough, I can go back and get more. It’s just… Maya…” He suddenly used my first name: “You need to understand, three years ago, you almost ruined Liam once. He endured a lot to get to where he is today. He absolutely cannot be ruined by you a second time.” David left, leaving behind a massive pile of money that would last me a very long time. I agreed to cooperate with the clarification. I told everyone that I was the one who couldn’t let go, that I was the one who used suicide as a threat. Even though I was immediately bombarded with hate from his fans the moment the statement went live, I didn’t feel wronged. After all, this incident was entirely my fault, and Liam was innocently dragged into it. Besides, I was also helping myself. If I attempted suicide again right after clarifying, and I survived, fine. But if I died, people would undoubtedly blame Liam again. So I couldn’t die just yet. Even if it was just for him, I had to hold on a little longer. I looked at the photo of Liam and me hidden in the back of my phone case and smiled. I finally found a reason to keep living. 04 Liam and I, we had an amicable breakup back then. At least, that’s what I thought. But Liam always insisted that I dumped him. I hated the word “dumped.” It made it sound like there was a winner and a loser in a breakup. At the time, I just felt we weren’t a good match, so I told him: “Liam, we need to stop seeing each other.” What did Liam say back then? He said over the phone: “Maya, if you don’t want to hear about a specific topic, you say ‘stop talking about this,’ not ‘stop seeing each other.’ You’re a journalism major, how is your English worse than mine?” I fell silent for a moment. “Liam, what I mean is, we need to break up!” “You want to get married? Sure, but I’m not of legal age yet…” “Liam, I know you understand what I’m saying. Let’s break up. Don’t contact me anymore.” Everyone thought I was being dramatic. Giving up a perfect boyfriend like Liam and insisting on a breakup. What, did I think I was in a soap opera? Playing the whole “forced separation, he chases, she runs” trope? When we were together, Liam was already making a name for himself in the entertainment industry. With his incredible singing and dancing skills, coupled with his striking looks, his popularity was skyrocketing. His future looked incredibly bright, but it was almost dragged down by me. After my dad had an accident and fell into a coma, my mom didn’t want to deal with it. She dumped the entire mess on me and ran off to fool around. I hadn’t seen her in ages until one day, a man showed up at our door claiming my mom stole his money and demanding we pay it back. I didn’t know if he was telling the truth. Besides, the amount he mentioned was massive. Between going to school and taking care of my dad, the money I made from part-time jobs barely covered our basic living expenses. Even if it was true, there was no way I could pay it back. One time, he showed up drunk to harass me again, and Liam saw him. To protect me, Liam got into a physical fight with him. Liam’s parents were wealthy business owners, well-known in the area. Plus, Liam himself was frequently on TV and social media. The man recognized Liam and decided to target him instead. So, by the next morning, the internet was flooded with news: Liam’s girlfriend leverages his status to avoid paying debts; Liam aids and abets her by getting into street brawls. During a crucial turning point in Liam’s career, I had brought him trouble—a massive problem. Liam’s team had to burn through a ton of money just to suppress the story’s traction. After the incident blew up, Liam’s manager, David, came to me. He told me that my mom didn’t owe that man any money at all. The man was maliciously extorting us. However, they had no concrete proof. To clear everything up, my mom would have to publicly state that she had no financial ties to him. “Furthermore,” David looked up at me: “There’s something I need you to understand. If you and Liam are not a couple, then in this scenario, he’s simply an innocent bystander who saw someone being bullied and stepped in to help.” How could I not understand what David was implying? Liam had a brilliant future ahead of him, and that future was almost destroyed by my hands. So that night, I told Liam: “Liam, we need to stop seeing each other.” After the breakup, I went to find my mom, begging her to step forward and clear the air. Instead, she cursed me out, yelling at me for finding a rich boyfriend and not telling her, while she had to suffer in poverty every day. That’s when I realized she knew everything that man was doing. She was even the one who suggested exposing the story to manipulate public opinion, all to extort a lump sum of cash from Liam. “You want me to clear his name? Fine. Aren’t you two together? Go tell that Hayes kid to cough up a million dollars. Five hundred thousand for the statement, and another five hundred thousand for your dowry. Not a penny less.” That night, after being kicked out by my mom, I walked home alone. The late autumn night was freezing, so cold my entire body shivered. A million dollars? After I almost destroyed Liam’s career, was I supposed to shamelessly ask him for a million dollars? 05 That very night, Liam booked a red-eye flight back. When he arrived, I was at the hospital, sitting by my dad’s bed. Liam found me, looking miserably at my dad, who had been in a vegetative state for three years. Then he asked the most melodramatic question ever: “Did my mom demand this? Is this the classic ‘here’s half a million, leave my son’ scenario?” I sweatdropped. I couldn’t blame him; he’d been acting in too many soap operas. … “Liam, you see it yourself. We’re not from the same world. Dating someone like you is just too exhausting for me. “I always have to walk on eggshells, terrified someone will find out about us, terrified it’ll ruin your image. I can’t even contact you most of the time because it might interfere with your work. “I have to work myself to the bone just to try and close the gap between us, just so people won’t think I’m a gold-digger who doesn’t deserve you. “It’s too exhausting, Liam. Every single day is exhausting. “I don’t want this life. I just want an ordinary, quiet life. Do you understand? You can’t give up your career, your dreams. And even if you did, you’re still a rich kid from a completely different background. The quiet life I want is something you can never give me.” In that hospital room, Liam kept his head down and remained silent for a long time. I gripped the corner of my dad’s blanket, biting my lip so hard I almost bled, just to stop the tears from falling. I don’t know how much time passed before Liam finally spoke: “But Maya, you’re not in this relationship alone. A breakup involves two people, and I don’t agree. “The things you mentioned… I might need some time to give you a proper answer, but we have to try and find a way to fix this together, don’t we? You can’t… you can’t just run into a problem and immediately decide to give up on me. That’s not fair to me.” I don’t clearly remember what happened next. My memory has been failing me lately, and everything in my head feels foggy and chaotic. I probably said a lot of awful things. I remember saying: “Liam, other than relying on the privileges your parents handed you, what else can you do? People like me at the bottom scrape by just to survive, but you were born with things we could work our whole lives and never achieve.” I told him: “Liam, for the rest of my life, the kind of people I despise the most are rich kids like you, hiding behind your parents like parasites.” In my memory, the only tangible, real thing left of Liam is the sight of his back as he slammed the door and walked away. For three years after that day, I never saw him again. … After Liam left, I issued a public statement clarifying that Liam and I were just friends. Regardless of whether I owed anyone money, it had nothing to do with him. He was merely an innocent bystander who stepped in to help. Once the statement was out, the scandal finally died down. But my mom and that man, failing to get the money they wanted, started harassing me constantly. I had no energy to deal with them, but I also had no way out—I couldn’t just abandon my bedridden father. Those three years were hell. Life was a grueling struggle. Just surviving, trying to find a moment of happiness, or even just eating a decent meal or getting a good night’s sleep became an impossible task for me. I knew I was sick. I felt it deep down, but I never had the courage to go to the hospital. I avoided doctors because my dad needed me. I couldn’t afford to collapse. Half a month ago, after clinging to life for four years, my dad slowly stopped breathing. After arranging his funeral, I grabbed my meager belongings and finally left that city. I went to see a doctor. They said my condition was already severe and required medication. If that didn’t work, I might need Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT). I didn’t take the meds, nor did I undergo any therapy. I had completely lost the will to live. I just wanted to see Liam one last time before the end. I took out all the money I had saved from scrimping and scraping over the years and bought a ticket to Liam’s concert from a scalper. I also bought a really nice, expensive outfit and did my makeup. I just wanted to look at him from afar. I never expected the camera to find me. And so, after three years, I brought trouble to Liam once again. 06 After I posted the clarification, the internet erupted with hate directed at me, but I didn’t care. I had quit my job a long time ago. I locked myself in my apartment, surviving on delivery food and sleeping pills day after day. But honestly, I couldn’t keep much down. I had no appetite. Even if I forced myself to swallow some soup, I’d throw it right back up. Still, I stubbornly set three alarms every day to force myself to eat on schedule. I needed to stay alive a little longer, otherwise, the mob’s fury would pivot back to Liam. Let’s say a hundred days. I gave myself a deadline. Liam, whatever I owe you, I’ll pay it back with these hundred days of my life. … When Liam showed up at my door, fully disguised in a mask and cap, I was sitting alone on the sofa, staring into space. The apartment was terrifyingly quiet. The rhythmic knocking on the door felt like a lifeline, snapping me out of my crushing loneliness. “Maya, why did you say those things online?” I smiled at him, reached over, and pulled open all the drawers in the coffee table. Inside were neat stacks of cash. The scene looked like a shady underworld transaction, as if the command to “move in” was about to crackle through a hidden earpiece. Liam stared at me, bewildered. “What is the meaning of this?” I shrugged: “Exactly what it looks like. Taking someone’s money to solve their problems, that’s all.” Liam’s face darkened. He didn’t speak for a long time. Then, inappropriately, my phone alarm went off—it was time for dinner. I silenced the alarm and looked up at his face, now free of the mask. A face without a trace of makeup, yet still breathtakingly handsome. I suddenly spoke: “Liam, have you eaten? If not, let’s eat together.” Liam abruptly stood up, anger blazing across his face: “Maya, what… what do you take me for?” I didn’t look up, pursing my lips in thought for a moment: “For… a dinner buddy.” Liam ultimately didn’t leave. He stayed, his expression cold. All his anger hit me like punches landing on cotton. I didn’t fight back; he said his piece, and I said mine. Liam paced the living room in furious circles until he got tired, then started nitpicking: “Why did you put so many chili peppers in this?! Did you do it on purpose?! Don’t you know I need to protect my vocal cords?” Liam yelled from the living room, and I answered from the kitchen: “I only put one tiny tip in, just for flavor.” “You put way too much water in the rice, are you making porridge?” “Is it too much? Doesn’t look like it. Whatever, think of it like a blind box. It adds to the suspense.” “Why is this plate so ugly?” “It came free with some yogurt.” “Why are you peeling the apple so thick?” “Bought them on sale.” “Why is there a chip on the rim of this bowl?” “It fell on the floor and only a tiny piece chipped off. I named it ‘Survivor.’” “The cartoon on your apron is so childish. What kind of taste is that?” “That’s a chibi caricature of a certain artist named Liam.” “…” Liam stopped talking. The soup in the pot bubbled and gurgled, seemingly echoing the rhythm of someone’s heartbeat. A long time later, Liam’s voice drifted in softly: “Maya… why did you try to commit suicide?” I lifted my head from the cloud of steam and met Liam’s eyes, which could never quite hide his emotions: “Liam, if you buy me a cake, I’ll tell you. But it has to be sweet.” However, that night, we didn’t end up eating dinner together, and I didn’t get to eat the cake Liam bought.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “441666”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My roommate got drunk after a breakup. While I was giving her a ride home on my electric scooter, I accidentally scraped a Mercedes. My roommate glanced at the license plate and asked me faintly, “Are you short on cash lately?” I answered honestly, “Always.” My roommate nodded, then pitched headfirst off the scooter, adding as she fell, “I’ll make you rich today.” I… At the same time, the door of the Mercedes opened, and a handsome guy in a sharp suit stepped out. We stared at each other in stunned silence. 01 Right before graduation, my roommate quietly broke up with her boyfriend. My gorgeous roommate got completely wasted and called me to take her home. While I was driving her back on my little electric scooter, she was giving me directions and simultaneously ranting about her ex’s terrible behavior. I comforted her while trying to keep my eyes on the road. Not gonna lie, even though she was drunk out of her mind, the scenic route she directed us on was pretty beautiful. Taking in the scenery ahead, I couldn’t help but ask, “Hey, drama queen, why do I remember this area being a luxury gated community up ahead? Are you sure these directions are right?” My roommate leaned against my back and, after a long pause, said, “Do you know? I was the rose he watered. How am I supposed to live without him?” Me: “…” Alright, Rose Queen, you just stay sad for a bit. She was already unconscious and totally useless, and I felt something was really wrong. I had to pull over to the curb and open Maps to see where we were. Suddenly, a force hit my cute little scooter, and my phone flew out of my hand from the momentum. Ahhh!! My phone! A broken phone would just add to the financial misery of my already poor family. I turned around angrily and saw an all-black Mercedes that had given us a light bump. Just as I was about to check on my poor phone and give the driver a piece of my mind… My roommate sat up like she was waking from the dead, glanced at the license plate, pondered for a long time, and suddenly asked: “Are you short on cash lately?” What kind of question is that? We’ve been surviving on instant ramen together for so long, don’t you know I’m always broke? I answered honestly: “Always.” My roommate nodded, and then I watched as she slowly slid down and fell flat next to the Mercedes, adding: “I’ll make you rich today. Are you touched?” I’m touched, alright, but look at me—do I dare move right now, my dear roommate?! What is happening? If you’re going to pull a scam, at least rehearse it with me! My acting skills aren’t up to par for this! As I stood next to her, completely bewildered and not knowing what to do with my hands or feet, the door of the Mercedes opened. The moment the door opened, a pair of long legs stepped firmly onto the ground. Then, a man in a sharp suit slowly walked over. He carried a freezing aura, his face completely devoid of any warmth. His sharp features and tall stature gave off an intense, oppressive presence. I nervously swallowed hard and crouched down, desperately shaking my roommate who was playing dead on the ground. My good daughter, please get up! You picked the wrong person to scam! If you don’t get up, your daddy (me) might get murdered in the next second. A shadow fell over me. I looked up and met his gaze as he stared down at me, scrutinizing. “Get up. Don’t make me repeat myself.” 02 His voice was deep and carried an undeniable tone of authority. Driving a Mercedes, incredibly handsome, deep voice—yep, he’s a certified billionaire CEO. I was scared half to death. Even though this CEO bumped my scooter first and was technically at fault… My idiot roommate trying to run an insurance scam on him was definitely not okay! Seeing this girl still playing dead and refusing to get up, I had to bite the bullet and tell the truth: “Uh, sir, we’re not trying to scam you. She’s just really drunk…” Before I could finish, I saw him frown. Then he crouched down, sniffed slightly, and let out a light scoff, as if laughing out of sheer anger. “Look at you, Chloe Sterling, you actually know how to drink now?” “???” What’s going on? He knows my roommate? Seeing my shocked expression, this CEO turned to me and said very politely: “I apologize. My driver accidentally scraped your scooter. I’m Chloe’s older brother.” “Liam Sterling.” His tone was still as cold as ice. What??? This cold-faced CEO character is my deadbeat roommate’s brother! Which means, my deadbeat roommate… I looked at the “Rose Queen” lying on the ground next to my shattered phone, and tears of envy practically flowed from my mouth. Waaaaah, why didn’t you tell me you were a rich girl! I caught my breath and told her brother: “It’s fine, it’s fine. She got drunk, so she asked me to take her home.” Liam gave a slight nod. Just as he thanked me and was about to pick up my roommate, my deadbeat roommate—oh wait, no, my dear rich friend—suddenly came back to life. She grabbed my hand and refused to let me go. Muttering nonsense like: “You don’t want me anymore, waaaaah. Taking advantage of me being drunk to abandon me. I bought you that car!” I didn’t! I am not! Don’t talk nonsense! I bought my little electric scooter by living on instant ramen! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liam giving me an inquisitive look. Damn it. I wanted to explain that the person she was talking about wasn’t me, but her ex-boyfriend. But I didn’t know if she had told her brother about her relationship, so I was stuck taking the blame in silence. For a moment, the three of us were locked in a bizarre, awkward stalemate. Liam holding her, her holding me, and me… I just wanted to die. But Liam, clearly someone used to handling big situations, thought for a moment and then took both of us back to his place. He even had my scooter and phone packed up and brought along. As soon as we walked in, my eyes were practically blinded by the sheer luxury. It was insanely opulent. Is this the world of the rich? Oh my god. However, even though the house was luxurious, it felt inexplicably empty. I secretly looked around and realized there wasn’t a single housekeeper in sight. “Sorry for the trouble of bringing Chloe back.” Liam placed my roommate on the bed, smoothed out his clothes, and extended a hand to me: “How should I address you?” I froze for a second, then reached out and gave him a brief handshake: “Audrey. I’m her roommate.” Liam nodded. He was already tall, and I was standing very close to him. From this angle, I could only see his sharp, defined jawline. “It’s too late today. You can stay here for the night, Audrey. As for the scooter and the phone,” Liam looked at the shattered phone in my hand, his expression calm and unreadable, “I’ll have someone handle it.” He was talking about my little electric scooter and the broken phone. I nodded. Liam turned to leave, but just as he stepped out the door, my roommate suddenly whined with a sob: “Mom…” Then she mumbled some more drunken nonsense. Liam stopped dead in his tracks. He stood outside the door, his back to the light, remaining completely silent. The light from the living room stretched his shadow long across the floor. For some reason, his tall silhouette made me feel a sense of profound loneliness. After standing there for who knows how long, Liam took large strides away without looking back. The room was left with just me and the dead-to-the-world Chloe. 03 Why did he look… a bit sad? I felt a bit confused but didn’t dwell on it. After cleaning Chloe up, I was so exhausted I just collapsed onto the bed. Even as I lay there, it felt like I was dreaming. The roommate who ate cheap takeout with me every day was suddenly a rich heiress, and her attempt at a scam happened to target her own brother. What a bizarre turn of events. Thinking about it, I drifted off to sleep. When I woke up again, it was to Chloe screaming: “Holy shit, Audrey, why am I at home?!” I buried my head under the covers, my brain unable to process anything, and mumbled: “Your brother brought you back.” Chloe instantly started wailing: “Holy shit, my brother!! No wonder that license plate looked familiar.” Wow. So you only dared to pull a scam because you recognized your brother’s car? And here I thought you were just criminally insane. She scratched her head: “Did I say anything embarrassing?” When she said that, the image of Liam standing alone outside the door, looking so isolated, flashed clearly in my mind, and I instantly woke up. I sat up, looked at her wailing, kind of wanting to laugh, and asked: “What do you mean?” Chloe buried her face in the covers, saying despairingly: “About dying over that scumbag, of course. It’s so embarrassing.” So that’s what it was. She definitely said quite a bit about that, Rose Queen. Seeing me stay silent, she started shaking me. I threw my hands up in surrender: “No, no, no, I covered your mouth the whole time.” She put her hands together in a gesture of gratitude: “A grateful heart, thankful for you.” Speaking of this, I yanked her out from under the covers: “You liar, didn’t you say your brother started working right after high school?” Chloe looked completely sincere: “Yeah, he started his own business right after high school.” Then she muttered: “He’s doing pretty well for himself now.” Who would call that just ‘working’?! Who would call this just ‘pretty well’?! I gave her an admiring thumbs-up and said: “Since you’re awake, I’m heading back.” Chloe immediately grabbed me: “Wait, didn’t you say you couldn’t find a place to stay for the summer? Do you want to stay here with me?” I looked at her in shock. Truly my dear roommate, we were on the exact same wavelength. I had actually planned to ask if she wanted to rent a place together for the summer, since our internship locations were very close. But with the current situation, it was a bit unexpected. Her brother was still home; it would be so inconvenient for me to stay here. Probably sensing my hesitation, Chloe immediately said: “Don’t worry, my brother is basically never home. If you don’t come, I’ll have to live in this huge house all by myself. It’ll be so lonely.” Waaaaah, rich girl, you’re really flexing right now. Chloe started acting pitiful: “You know I get scared, right? Just me alone in the house.” I thought about it and asked: “Is there really no one else in your family? Like a housekeeper or something?” Such a big house, yet it felt so empty. Chloe looked confused: “No. When I’m staying at school, it’s just my brother here. He doesn’t like hiring housekeepers.” That solitary silhouette from last night flashed in my mind again, looking even more lonely. I shook my head to clear the image and said honestly: “I’m fine with it, but you have to discuss it with your brother…” Before I could finish, she pulled me out the door and sprinted down the stairs: “Then we have to hurry. My brother is about to leave for the office.” I stumbled as she pulled me along. When we got downstairs, I saw Liam already sitting at the dining table, who knows how long he’d been waiting. 04 Chloe pulled me over to sit down. Liam’s cool gaze swept over us, his voice carrying a slight nasal tone: “Care to explain? You drink now?” Chloe laughed awkwardly: “Well, you know, it’s graduation season, the sadness of parting ways…” Liam gave a scoff, clearly not buying it: “You’re graduating this year?” Chloe shot me a look, desperately signaling me for help. Holy crap, this girl never prepares a script. I coughed, kept a straight face, and lied: “Yes, the seniors in our lab are graduating. We’re close, so we had a few drinks.” Liam’s deep, dark eyes looked at me, as if trying to see right through me. I smiled at him calmly, but inside I was a bundle of nerves. This was scarier than the strictest principal from my high school. I thought Liam was going to press further, but he stopped and calmly said: “Let’s eat.” As if the intimidating patriarch from a second ago wasn’t him. I breathed a sigh of relief, and Chloe secretly gave me a thumbs-up. After a few bites, before I could fully relax, Chloe spoke up while eating: “Liam, Audrey isn’t going home for the summer. Can she stay here with me?” As soon as she finished, Liam’s gaze fell on me. After a brief moment of thought, he answered: “Yes.” Then he continued eating methodically: “I won’t be coming back for a while then. If you have any problems, call me anytime.” Chloe openly threw a peace sign at me, then excitedly praised me to her brother: “Did you know? Audrey is amazing. She’s the smartest person in our dorm. She’s loved astrophysics since she was a kid and studies it with such passion.” She paused, then emphasized: “Astrophysics!” That’s because different fields are like different worlds. Our dorm was mixed; my major was different from theirs, but everyone was actually pretty impressive in their own research areas. Liam seemed interested in this and asked: “Have you always liked it this much?” I thought for a moment and answered honestly: “Not exactly. There was a time when studying it was really painful.” Chloe said admiringly: “Audrey thinks it’s painful but keeps studying, and eventually she loves it. I’m different. I study it and just fail.” I laughed at her exaggerated expression. Chloe acted like a reporter: “Come on, tell us, how did you overcome the difficulties and fall in love with astrophysics?” It wasn’t a big deal. I organized my thoughts and kept it brief: “It’s actually pretty cliché. I met this expert online back then. He taught me a lot, and then I slowly started to enjoy studying it again.” Liam nodded slightly and asked: “And now?” I said firmly: “Lifelong passion.” Chloe nodded excitedly and showed off my keychain: “She really loves it. Even her keychain is a model of Pluto.” When she showed the keychain, Liam froze. He suddenly stopped moving, his eyes locked onto my keychain, his expression complex, his brows even furrowing slightly. I looked at Chloe in confusion. She calmly explained that her brother’s recent projects involved this kind of knowledge, so he gets excited hearing about it. Oh, I see. No wonder he had more to say when he heard I studied astrophysics. “This keychain… is it from the expert you mentioned?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “441667”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When a scholarship student spilled milk on my shirt, my childhood best friend bullied her the very next day. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but later I caught him cornering her again. “If I… if I kiss you, will you let me go?” she stammered. Liam gave a lazy, arrogant smile. “What do you think?” In that exact moment, I finally realized: we were no longer walking the same path. Half a month later, the scholarship student staged a fake bullying incident, and Liam violently kicked my desk over. “Are you psycho, Chloe?! Over a spilled cup of milk?! Really?!” I picked up my backpack with absolute indifference. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I have an airtight alibi.” “I spent yesterday afternoon filing my transfer paperwork. I’m leaving tomorrow.” 01 Liam Evans was the undisputed king of our high school. Tall, handsome, and so naturally brilliant he could place in the top ten without even studying. And everyone knew that I was his one and only untouchable boundary. No one messed with me, and no one crossed me. Or else they suffered the consequences. “Chloe, when do you think Liam is going to let that scholarship girl off the hook?” “He’s literally skipped a whole week of classes just to corner Maya outside of school.” My pen paused on the paper. I looked up at the empty desk a few rows away. I lowered my eyes and gave a flat reply. “I don’t know.” The final bell rang. I hugged my neatly packed notebooks and walked out of the classroom with my desk mate. She kept chattering. “Tsk, well, I guess I’ll never understand the mind of an overly protective boyfriend.” My throat suddenly felt dry. Protective? A few days ago, Maya, a scholarship student, accidentally spilled a carton of milk all over me. Liam’s face instantly darkened. As he took off his school uniform jacket and wrapped it around me, the other students demanded Maya apologize. “Huh? It was an accident. Do I really have to apologize?” “That milk was pretty expensive too…” She mumbled, clearly unwilling. Someone pulled her sleeve and whispered. “You clearly have no idea how protective Liam is of Chloe. If she gets mad, Liam will literally destroy you.” Hearing that, she let out an “Oh.” And gave a very reluctant, defiant apology. Meanwhile, Liam wiped down my desk, never sparing her a single glance. The entire school knew. Liam and I had grown up together. I was the person he cared about most, the person he was absolutely determined to protect. But now… I let out a dry, hollow laugh and stopped my desk mate. “Actually, Liam and I aren’t really anything special.” “Huh?” She looked confused. Seeing I wasn’t going to elaborate, she followed my gaze toward the school gates. In a narrow alleyway just out of sight, Liam and Maya were standing incredibly close. They were talking, and the girl was so close her breath was practically brushing against Liam’s face. 02 There were a lot of students walking by. If you didn’t look closely, they were hidden in the shadows of the alley, making them hard to spot. A lazy, arrogant smile played on Liam’s lips. “So, what do you owe me today?” “A deal is a deal.” Maya’s face was flushed red. She wouldn’t look at him. She went up on her tiptoes and quickly kissed his cheek. “Holy shit! What?!” My desk mate was dumbfounded. She couldn’t help but gasp out loud. That single gasp made Liam turn his head. His eyes locked directly with mine. Our gazes collided, and the air instantly froze. My desk mate finally realized what she had done and covered her mouth. “Sorry! You guys keep talking! I didn’t see anything!” Then she bolted like her life depended on it. I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, honestly not knowing what to say. I gave a cold, detached smile. “What a coincidence. I’m heading home too.” Liam’s gaze rested heavily on me. He didn’t say a word. We stood there in a silent standoff for three long seconds. As I turned to leave, I heard Maya’s voice. “Liam… is she mad?” “Don’t worry about her.” My heart felt a sudden, agonizing squeeze. I forced it down and walked faster. I had known Liam for nineteen years. Suddenly, I realized he was no longer the boy I remembered. Three days ago, when I found out he had started targeting Maya, I specifically went to talk to him. “I don’t care about stuff like that.” “But I do.” His expression had been completely serious as he enunciated every word. “Your health isn’t great. I won’t let anyone bully you.” We grew up together. That was the sentence he had said to me more than any other. But it was that exact same day. I saw him cornering Maya against the wall of the auditorium. Maya was crying and hiccuping. “If I… if I kiss you, will you let me go?” Liam dropped his usual cold, unapproachable demeanor. He gave a lazy, arrogant smile. “What do you think?” I don’t remember how I walked away from the auditorium. My legs felt stiff, and my chest was so tight I couldn’t breathe. For the rest of the afternoon, I didn’t absorb a single word the teachers said. Eventually, I managed to convince myself: people change. If we were no longer walking the same path. Then we shouldn’t walk together anymore. 03 The next morning, Liam didn’t show up for homeroom. Everyone was used to him skipping class. “But…” My desk mate paused, unsure if she should ask. But she asked anyway. “You didn’t walk to school with Liam today?” Normally, we walked into the classroom together every single day. In the summer, he would buy me breakfast; in the winter, he would have a hot pack ready for me on the walk. It was an unspoken routine everyone knew about. But today, I deliberately took a different route that avoided his neighborhood. Seeing my hesitation, my desk mate tactfully changed the subject. “Oh, whatever. What do you want to grab for breakfast after homeroom?” When homeroom ended, Liam finally showed up. He was carrying a bag of warm, fresh cheese balls. “Oh my god, don’t you have to run all the way across town to get those?” “Chloe, you’re so lucky! Let me have one!” A few girls crowded around me. But Liam didn’t even look at me. He walked past my desk and dropped the bag of cheese balls directly in front of Maya. Then he went back to his desk and put his head down to sleep. The area around my desk went dead silent. “Did he drop them at the wrong desk?” “Did the young master need glasses?” Maya looked over at me, making eye contact with the girl who had just asked for a cheese ball. She covered the bag with her hands. “Sorry. Liam bought these for me. I’m not sharing them.” Nobody really paid attention to her comment. Instead, everyone was shooting me awkward, questioning looks. Finally, someone couldn’t hold back. “Did you guys get in a fight?” “No way. Liam is insanely protective of Chloe. There’s no way he’d suddenly turn on her.” I wasn’t really surprised. Since I had seen them, there was no reason for him to keep pretending. The atmosphere around us was definitely humiliating. But my face remained completely blank. I just pulled my lunch card out of my desk. “We didn’t fight. “And I should clarify this for everyone: Liam and I are just regular classmates. “We don’t have any other relationship.” With that, I walked out of the classroom. The school jacket Liam had draped over his head suddenly slipped off. He raised his eyes to look at me, his gaze freezing coldly in midair. 04 The subtle shift between Liam and me didn’t escape my mom’s notice. For several days in a row, he hadn’t come over to our house. He used to always do his homework with me. Well, he didn’t actually do his homework. He just liked resting his chin on his hand, watching me work, idly twirling the ends of my hair around his fingers. When it annoyed me, I’d swat his hand away. He would just smile, his eyes curving like a sly fox. “Finished? Want to go for a walk?” I would fake being annoyed. “Liam, if you aren’t going to study, don’t distract me.” “Then kick me out.” He would prop his head up with his other hand. His tone was absolutely shameless, knowing full well I’d never actually kick him out. Sometimes I studied very late. He would accidentally fall asleep on my desk. When he finally left, he would stretch by the door, smile, and wave. “See you tomorrow.” That was the dynamic between Liam and me. There were no explicit confessions, but he rooted himself into my life, deliberately leaving his mark everywhere, flaunting his blatant favoritism for me. Who wouldn’t fall for someone like that? I liked Liam. And I had carefully, secretly fantasized about our future together countless times. Maybe we would start dating. Maybe after graduation, he would gently, formally take my hand and confess. Thinking about that, Maya’s face suddenly flashed in my mind. Liam holding her in his arms, smirking, letting her stand on her tiptoes to kiss him. I squeezed my eyes shut, my eyes burning with unshed tears. My mom was asking me. “Liam hasn’t been walking you home lately. “Did you guys get into a fight? “Your teacher called his mom and said Liam is dating someone. Did you guys…” I shook my head, cutting her off. “He isn’t dating me.” My mom froze, clearly wanting to say something else. But I suddenly looked up and asked her. “A few days ago, that magnet school offered me a spot to boost their Ivy League acceptance rate, right? “I thought about it. I’ll transfer.” Before, Liam had told me he wanted to stay by my side forever. And I had the exact same hope. But now. I had absolutely no reason to stay here anymore. 05 Liam and I established an unspoken agreement to keep our distance. His relationship with Maya became the biggest gossip in school. In the past, people had speculated if Liam and I were secretly dating. But since we never crossed any physical boundaries, it remained just rumors. Now, things were different. Liam was skipping class and taking Maya with him. Even the teachers knew about it. During P.E., my desk mate suddenly ran over to me. “Chloe! Liam is going to beat a guy to death! You have to go stop him!” I froze slightly. “A fight?” In my memory, whenever Liam fought someone, it was almost always because of me. When I got there, Liam had a guy pinned against the brick wall. Both of them had blood on their mouths. Liam casually wiped the blood off his face and raised his fist again. “I’ll ask you one more time. Are you going to apologize to her or not?” “I FUCKING TOLD YOU! I never insulted her shoes!” Maya was hiding behind Liam’s back. She was sobbing. “He… he definitely stared at my shoes and judged them.” Liam pulled his fist back to swing. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw me, and he froze. I understood instantly. He was fighting for Maya. Well, I had no intention of interrupting his “knight in shining armor” moment. I turned to leave, but the guy pinned against the wall used Liam’s momentary distraction to kick him away, and then grabbed my arm. I gasped in shock. I recognized him—he was the leader of the local delinquent gang. “Well, well. If it isn’t your little childhood sweetheart.” “You falsely accused me, and you hit me? Liam, if you don’t apologize to me right now, I’m going to punch her in the face!” He gripped my arm with crushing force. I started to panic. “Whatever is going on between you two has absolutely nothing to do with me!” He ignored me. He glared at Liam. “Scared now? I heard you care about her a lot.” Maybe I was just too terrified, but in that moment, I harbored a pathetic, unwarranted sliver of hope for Liam. If it were the old him, he would have done absolutely anything to protect me. But the words asking for help died in my throat. Because Liam laughed first. “You heard wrong.” He lazily lifted his eyes, his gaze sweeping over me with chilling indifference. “Go ahead and hit her. But I am not letting what happened to Maya go.” I stared blankly as he gently wiped Maya’s tears away, and then walked away with her. Above me, I heard a vicious curse. “Motherfucker, I don’t believe him.” The delinquent gritted his teeth. And slammed his fist directly into my face. 06 I blacked out. The punch was agonizing. I never knew getting hit felt like that. In my memories, Liam had taken countless hits like that. Sometimes he got them from fighting for me. Sometimes he got them from his dad beating him for failing his classes. He would always come to me, begging me to apply the ointment. “It hurts so much, Chloe. Don’t you feel sorry for me?” He would say it looking like a pitiful puppy. My heart would pound uncontrollably every time. While I dabbed iodine on his cuts, I would ask. “Can’t you just focus on school? Then your dad wouldn’t hit you.” Liam would go silent. I only ever asked him that once. That day, the atmosphere between us plummeted to freezing. Later, I found out the truth. Liam’s parents had practically been divorced for years. They both had affairs. But to maintain the illusion of a perfect family for Liam, they pretended everything was fine. Ever since Liam discovered the truth, he started getting into fights, skipping class, and staying out all night, pushing everyone away. Once I found out, I never told him to “focus on school” again. He had his own way of rebelling against his broken world. He seemed to severely lack a sense of security. He would ask me, “Chloe, I’m never going to get into a top college like you. Are you going to stop talking to me?” I shook my head. “Never. I’ll always be by your side.” The dream cut off right there. I could hear people arguing next to my ear. It sounded like Liam’s father. “What the hell is going through your head?! Refusing to study is one thing, but you just stood there and watched someone beat Chloe like that?!” Liam’s mother was crying nearby. “How could you do this? Chloe fell from a balcony when she was little, you know she has a history of concussions! Didn’t you always swear you would protect her?” Liam, who had been completely silent, suddenly let out an impatient scoff. He kicked something on the floor. “Fucking hell, protect what? Isn’t she a human being? Does she need me to protect her?” Smack. Liam’s father slapped him hard across the face. His voice was trembling with rage. “And that… that Maya girl! Why is she the only one you stand up for?!” “Heh…” Liam let out a soft laugh. “Yeah. She’s willing to skip class with me. She’s willing to fight with me.” “What the hell is Chloe compared to that?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “441668”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My boyfriend thought my breasts were too big. He gave me $70,000 to get a breast reduction surgery. Right then, a mysterious person suddenly transferred $700,000 to my account. The memo read: “Don’t listen to him.” I gripped my phone and secretly texted my boyfriend’s best friend: “If you want me to listen to you, just sending money isn’t enough.” He replied at lightning speed: “What are you talking about? I don’t understand.” Me: “Never mind then, I’m heading to the hospital.” He panicked just as I expected: “What else do you want?” “Are you 7 inches?” “I’m 24 years old.” “Talk is cheap, show me.” Later, he used his actions to show me a really good time. 01 My name is Maya Vance. I’m the girlfriend of Ethan Sterling, the golden boy of the city’s elite circle. But not for long. Because I plan to teach him a lesson. If you’re asking why I don’t just break up with him gracefully before finding someone else… Well, Ethan brought this entirely upon himself. He hated my figure and constantly pressured me to get a breast reduction. What’s even more infuriating is that he secretly created a burner account to flirt with other girls. So, after careful consideration, I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine before dumping him. Right before bed. For the first time, I posted a face-reveal selfie on my social media account, which had just under ten thousand followers. Caption: “Looking for a handsome, low-maintenance boyfriend.” Requirements: “6 feet tall, 7 inches, must have abs.” Within half an hour of posting, my follower count skyrocketed, nearing a hundred thousand. Amidst the sea of compliments and unsolicited selfies, one particular DM caught my eye. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?” How did this person know I wasn’t single? I clicked on his profile. His IP address showed he was in the same city as me. His profile picture was pitch black, and he had zero posts. His bio simply read: “Small gains accumulate, eventually surpassing everything.” For some reason, I had a sudden premonition. This person definitely knew me. Please don’t let it be Ethan. That would ruin the fun. I was debating whether to reply when he got anxious and messaged again. “Have you considered your boyfriend’s feelings by doing this?” “Even if you want a new guy, you shouldn’t be looking online.” “There are tons of scammers on the internet.” “Be careful or you’ll get trafficked overseas.” … Okay, I was certain this wasn’t Ethan. But judging by his tone, he was probably close friends with him. Who could it be? Looking at the chat window, I suddenly realized his username looked familiar. Scrolling back, I discovered he had been liking my posts for a long time. Sometimes he even left comments. Even Ethan didn’t know about this account, yet this guy had been following me for this long. Could he… have a crush on me? Filled with doubt, I sent a probing reply: “Then do you want to give it a try with me?” 02 The moment I hit send, it was marked as read. My curiosity was completely piqued. I had pretty much met all of Ethan’s friends. Who exactly was secretly harboring a crush on me? After a few seconds of silence in the chat, a flurry of messages arrived. “What do you mean?” “You want me to be your boyfriend?” “Stop joking around. To tell you the truth, Ethan and I are good friends.” “I would absolutely never do anything to betray him.” “Okay then, bye,” I replied. After sending that, I closed the app, put my phone away, and went straight to sleep. The next morning, the first thing I did was open my account to check my DMs. Just as I expected. Not only had he sent a barrage of messages, but he had even tried to voice-call me multiple times. “What the hell do you mean, ‘bye’?” “Explain yourself!” “Are you serious about looking for a boyfriend, or are you just acting out in anger?” “Come to think of it, I guess I could work.” “But I refuse to be the other man. You have to make it official!” “Why aren’t you answering?” “Are you asleep?” “Or are you chatting with other guys?!” One missed voice call. “I already said I’m down. Don’t look for anyone else.” Two missed voice calls. “Fine, I’ll be the other man. It’s not like Ethan is a saint anyway. Last time we were in Tokyo, he went to a maid cafe behind your back.” Five missed voice calls. “Are you still there?” “It’s getting late. Get some rest. Goodnight.” A few minutes later, he sent a heart emoji, followed by a blood-pumping photo of his abs. In the photo, he was wearing sweatpants, lounging casually on a bed, his long legs stretching out endlessly. Under the natural light, his skin had a healthy, tanned glow. The veins on his arms were bulging, and his long, slender fingers were resting in a spot that was very hard to ignore. This was a blatant seduction! I silently downloaded and saved the photo. Blushing, I thought to myself, “He’s definitely packing.” While I was brushing my teeth, the doorbell rang downstairs. My housekeeper answered it and immediately let out a gasp. “Maya, come down quick! Look at this massive bouquet of roses.” Roses… How cliché. I took my time going downstairs. I walked over with a look of disdain and briefly glanced at the card. Then I suddenly noticed a delicate jewelry box sitting on top of the flowers. I opened it and gasped—it was my bangle! This was the last gift my dad gave me before he died. After he passed, his company faced a massive financial deficit. I gathered everything of value I owned and put it up for auction. That included this bangle. I remember it was bought by a foreign buyer for almost half a million dollars. Ethan’s friend somehow managed to track down the buyer and bought it back for me. I sniffled and opened his chat. “I got the package. Thank you for getting it back for me. Could you give me your bank account number?” I couldn’t cough up that much cash all at once right now, but I could definitely manage it if we set up a 12-month installment plan. “I don’t want your money. I just want you.” … I expected him to decline the money, but I didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, trying to figure out how to respond. Just then, a call came in. It was Ethan, reminding me not to forget to go to his friend’s birthday party with him today. “Don’t wear anything too revealing. Remember to wear a binder; it makes you look smaller and better.” I agreed to everything he said. Then I turned right around and picked out a low-cut evening gown from my closet. When I arrived, Ethan was laughing and chatting with a group of people. The second he saw my outfit, his face fell. He immediately pulled me aside. “Why did you show up dressed like this?” I ignored Ethan and looked past him into the distance. Amidst a sea of wandering and suggestive glances, I unexpectedly collided with a pair of deep, dark eyes. 03 Julian Thorne sat alone in a corner, meeting my gaze through the crowd and the blaring music. For some inexplicable reason, I felt paralyzed, unable to move a muscle. Julian broke eye contact first. He then downed the drink in his glass in one gulp. He seemed to smirk, but quickly reverted to his usual aloof demeanor. Thump. Thump. Thump. My heart rate suddenly spiked. At the same time, an incredibly absurd thought flashed through my mind: Could it be him? I quickly dismissed the idea. Ever since I met Julian, he had always been icy and distant. He seemed like he didn’t care about anything. Every time I said hi to him, he would just give a curt nod. He treated words like they were made of gold. Forget having a crush on me; there was a time I thought he actually hated me. “Maya Vance, have you gone mute? Say something!” Ethan waved his hand impatiently in front of my face. I furrowed my brow and shook off his hand: “Don’t you think I look good in this?” As I spoke, I deliberately pushed my chest out. Ethan looked like he was seasick. I took another step forward, and he immediately covered his mouth and bolted for the restroom. Ethan suffers from macromastia-induced vertigo. It’s a bizarre phobia, right? What’s even more bizarre is that, despite not being able to handle girls with large chests, he relentlessly pursued me back then. As for how I found out about this condition… It all stems from a hotel stay not too long ago. I was finally ready to fully commit to Ethan. But right at the crucial moment, the idiot literally passed out. Furious, I dumped a bucket of cold water on him to wake him up. Under my murderous glare, Ethan finally confessed. He said he actually prefers the supermodel body type. Slim waist, long legs, small chest. And except for that last part, I was an exact match for his ideal type. His confession made everything click. No wonder he always made me wear a binder. He claimed he was worried about other guys looking and making him jealous. But the truth was, he was the one who couldn’t handle it. When he emerged from the restroom, Ethan walked over to me, his eyes darting around shiftily, and brought up the surgery again. Before I could answer him, I suddenly received a text from an unknown number. “You have a great body. Ethan is just blind. Don’t get the surgery.” It was him! I bit my lip and downed my sparkling water in one gulp. I replied: “Restroom. Meet me?” 04 He seemed startled; it took him ages to reply. “Are you, sure?” “Of course.” “This is too sudden. I’m not ready.” “Never mind then. If you won’t go, I’ll go by myself.” “Wait!” “I’ll go.” Hook, line, and sinker. I told Ethan I was stepping away. Just as I was about to get up, the door to the private room swung open. Looking up, I saw a woman in maternity clothes standing in the doorway. She was looking around, clearly searching for someone. Looks like some irresponsible rich kid knocked someone up. I was just wondering which scumbag was the culprit. But the next second, the woman walked right up to Ethan, crying and making a scene, demanding he take responsibility. Getting a closer look, I realized that body-wise, she was exactly Ethan’s type. Although I had lost all feelings for Ethan. It was impossible not to be angry. After all, I was currently in the process of cheating on him. If anyone was going to hand out green hats, it was going to be me. I thought Ethan was just getting thirsty online; I didn’t realize he was already expecting a child. Dying of shock in my sickbed, the clown was me all along. In our social circle, saving face is more important than life itself. Without giving Ethan a chance to explain, I slapped him hard across the face and left without looking back. I completely forgot about my restroom rendezvous with the mystery man. On the way home, the more I thought about it, the more annoyed I got, so I just told the driver to turn around and head straight to a club. Going through a breakup, plus failing to cheat and getting cheated on instead—I’d be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t have a good drink. I went to Ethan’s regular club and told the bartender to bring out all the top-shelf liquor he had stored there. I invited everyone around to drink with me. I didn’t start feeling slightly better until Ethan’s entire stash was gone. After downing several glasses of hard liquor. My head started spinning. I glanced at the guy sitting next to me. He looked a lot like Julian Thorne. Was he here to drink too? No way. I remember Ethan saying Julian wasn’t into places like this. Even though I seemed to spot him every time I came here with Ethan. “Are you okay?” He looked at me with concern and asked. It seems I really drank too much; I was already hallucinating. I shook my head vigorously. But I lost my balance, and my whole body started falling backward… Before I could even scream. I fell into a solid embrace. The hug didn’t last long. He very politely helped me back into my chair. His fingers flashed past my eyes like a blur. For some reason. That image slowly merged with the distinct, long fingers from the ab photo etched in my memory. I thought I must be going crazy. To sober myself up, I ordered a glass of ice water. As I reached for it, I accidentally bumped the phone sitting next to it, lighting up the screen. It wasn’t my phone. But the lock screen wallpaper was a picture of me. Judging by the angle, it was clearly taken secretly… 05 I woke up in bed. I glanced around at the furnishings. It was my bedroom. So, was I dreaming? But I definitely went to the club, and I definitely drank a lot. As for what happened after I got drunk, my mind was a total blank. When my housekeeper brought me some hangover soup. I asked her who brought me home last night. She seemed very excited, saying it was a tall, incredibly handsome young man. “Way more handsome than Ethan.” She made sure to add that before leaving my room. Honestly, Ethan wasn’t bad-looking at all. To say this guy was even more handsome… A face, cool and striking, popped into my head. But he really didn’t seem like the type to harbor a secret crush. A guy like him could have any girl he wanted. The more I guessed, the more flustered I got, so I just decided to check the security footage. After setting the time, a Bentley with a vanity license plate composed entirely of the same number appeared on the screen. When the driver opened the door, I saw myself resting peacefully in Julian’s arms. He first politely greeted the housekeeper. Then, carefully, as if holding a child, he carried me out of the car. After laying me on my bed, he gave me a kiss on the forehead—a kiss he clearly thought was stealthy. Oh my god! I slammed the laptop shut with a smack, my face burning, grabbed my phone, and opened my DMs. Julian had sent me a “good morning” sticker an hour ago. I don’t usually like playing games. But teasing him a little wouldn’t hurt. My very first message was: “I’ve seen through the illusions of the mortal world, and I’ve decided to close my heart to love.” He panicked immediately. “Please don’t!” “You have to believe true love still exists in this world!!” “It’s not worth it for a scumbag!!!” I went full manipulative-drama-queen mode: “You and Ethan are good friends. I don’t want to ruin your relationship.” “He’s not my friend. If he wasn’t constantly forcing his way into my circle, I wouldn’t even acknowledge him.” “Ethan is a complete hooligan and a bastard. I’m cutting ties with him right now.” He really didn’t hesitate for a single second. Satisfied, I sent him a cute emoji and asked if he missed me. “I did.” “Prove it.” An image. I tapped it open without a second thought. The next second, I nearly dropped my phone. “Julian Thorne!” “Have! Have you no shame!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “441669”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I woke up at 3 AM with an urgent need to use the bathroom. Still half asleep, I grabbed my phone and headed to the bathroom, planning to scroll through TikTok while taking care of business. The moment the screen lit up, I saw a system notification: [Password entered incorrectly 5 consecutive times. Please try again in 8 minutes.] 01 Try again in 8 minutes? I froze, reading the sentence out loud involuntarily. Almost immediately, I realized something was horribly wrong. I always used Face ID or my fingerprint to unlock my phone. I rarely typed my passcode, and it was impossible that I would type it wrong five times in a row. Moreover, I had been dead asleep. I had just woken up seconds ago. A cold sweat broke out across my back. Whatever residual sleepiness lingered in my brain evaporated instantly. I remembered my phone’s factory settings: If the passcode is entered incorrectly too many times, the phone locks for ten minutes. I looked down at my phone again. In other words, exactly two minutes before I woke up— Someone was in my bedroom, holding my phone, trying to unlock it! And that person… Was highly likely still inside my apartment! 02 The moment the realization hit me, I moved as fast as humanly possible. I locked the bathroom door as quietly as I could and drafted an emergency text to 911. Making sure I included my exact address and a brief description of the situation, I hit send. After doing that, I leaned back against the bathroom wall. I had never been in a situation like this before, and my legs felt like jelly. Thank God for the modern emergency dispatch system. The nearest precinct had officers on duty 24/7. Once a text-to-911 is received, police are usually dispatched and on the scene within ten minutes. I had actually just seen a public service announcement about texting 911 a couple of days ago. I never expected I’d have to use it so soon. I looked down at my phone. The [Delivered] status under my text message finally gave me a slight sense of relief. It was the dead of night. The vast majority of the building’s residents were fast asleep. Everything around me was terrifyingly quiet. I bit my lip hard, forcing myself to stay calm. The only sound I could hear was my own trembling, shallow breathing. The thought that an intruder was standing right outside, separated from me by only a single wooden door… My adrenaline spiked violently, and my mouth went completely dry. I swallowed hard. Suppressing the violent pounding of my heart, I pressed my ear flat against the frosted glass of the bathroom door. Several minutes passed. There wasn’t a single sound coming from outside. It seemed like nothing was happening. I checked my phone again. 3:05 AM. It had been exactly five minutes since I woke up. I started analyzing everything that had just happened in my head. And a few alternative theories started to form. Could it be that I had accidentally rolled over onto my phone in my sleep and triggered the lock screen myself? I nodded silently to myself. —It was definitely a possibility. I was a very restless sleeper. Every morning, I woke up in a completely different position than how I fell asleep. It wasn’t entirely impossible that I had unconsciously mashed the screen in my sleep and triggered the lockout feature. But regardless. As a woman living alone, it was better to be safe than sorry. Especially since the police hadn’t replied with a solid confirmation yet. I gripped my phone tightly, not daring to breathe loudly, keeping my ear pressed to the door. But right at that moment, a soft rustling sound came from behind me. My breath hitched violently in my throat. At the same time, the faint, flickering glow of a streetlamp cast a shifting shadow against the bathroom wall! A wave of pure ice shot up from the soles of my feet. It looked exactly like… Someone was standing right behind me! 03 I sucked in a sharp breath. My breathing grew ragged and heavy. A voice in my head started screaming. Turn around. Turn around. TURN AROUND! Unable to suppress the overwhelming terror any longer, I mechanically turned my head— It was just the bathroom window. I had left it open. The autumn wind on the 18th floor was strong late at night. The blinds were being blown back and forth. The slats rubbing against each other created that soft rustling sound. In the dead silence, a sound I normally wouldn’t even notice had become deafening. … It was just a false alarm! To keep the bathroom ventilated, I almost always left that small window open 24/7. Even at night. I was probably just so terrified that I completely forgot about it. I was scaring myself to death! I patted my chest, annoyed at my own forgetfulness. A bitter, self-deprecating smile touched my lips. However, before I could even let out a sigh of relief… A dark shadow flashed sharply across the floor right at my feet. This time, I saw it with absolute clarity! It was absolutely not the shadow of the blinds. It was the shadow of a person, cast through the gap under the bathroom door by the ambient light in the living room! My pupils shrank to pinpricks. That person really was still inside my apartment! The very next second. CRASH! The sharp sound of shattering glass erupted from outside the door. I violently flinched. I immediately recognized the sound. The intruder had knocked over the glass vase in my living room! I held my breath, trembling as I dropped to my hands and knees, slowly lowering my head toward the floor. Lower, lower, just a little lower… And the moment I looked through the gap under the door. What I saw— Was the contorted, terrifying lower half of a man’s face! 04 “AHHHHH—” I screamed at the top of my lungs, the piercing sound tearing through the silent apartment. I lost my grip on my phone, and it plummeted straight down. Smack! The phone hit the ceramic tiles with a heavy, sickening thud. I didn’t dare reach down to pick it up immediately, terrified the man would suddenly kick the door in. My entire body went rigid. I stared dead at the shadow outside the door. But the man outside seemed just as startled by my scream as I was. He froze in place. Through the door, I could hear his heavy, ragged breathing. It sounded like he was analyzing the situation. Then, he turned and ran toward the front door. A series of rapid, heavy footsteps. SLAM! I jumped. It was the heavy, unmistakable sound of the front door slamming shut. After that, the apartment returned to dead silence. I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue. The metallic taste of blood grounded me, bringing back my sanity. My chest was heaving violently, and large beads of sweat rolled down my hairline. Did he run? Since I heard the door slam… Did that mean the man had finally left my apartment? No! I shook my head, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead. What if he did that on purpose to trick me? What if he was gambling that I would let my guard down and step out, so he could ambush me? Right now, he could be standing perfectly still in the living room, waiting for me to walk right into his trap! I finally reached down and picked up my phone. Wiping the screen, I realized the impact against the tile had left several large cracks across the glass. But thank God, the 911 dispatcher had replied. They told me to stay calm, lock myself in a safe room, avoid confronting the intruder, and promised that officers would be on the scene within five to ten minutes. A surge of relief washed over me. The police were almost here. That was the ultimate lifeline. As long as I could hold out for a maximum of ten minutes, I would be safe! 05 I looked around the bathroom, grabbed the heavy mop from the corner, and held it up like a spear, aiming it directly at the door. The police were still a few minutes away. Anything could happen in that timeframe. I had no actual weapons in the bathroom; this was the only thing I could use to defend myself. If the intruder came back, I was absolutely not going to just stand there and wait to die. Thinking of this, I opened my contacts and found the number for Mr. Miller, the security guard on duty at the front desk of my building. I sent him a rapid-fire text: [Mr. Miller, someone broke into my apartment! I already texted 911!] [The guy realized I was awake and ran out the front door. Can you please keep an eye on the lobby cameras? Look for anyone suspicious leaving the building right now!] [If someone looks sketchy, try to stop them!] [But if it’s too dangerous, don’t engage! Just memorize what he looks like and what he’s wearing for the police! Thank you SO MUCH!!!!!] I used a ton of exclamation points to emphasize how serious this was. Mr. Miller, the guard on duty tonight, was a solidly built guy in his late thirties. Word around the building was that he made a fortune in crypto, retired early, got bored sitting at home, and took the security job just for something to do. He worked out constantly and was built like a tank. Handling an average burglar shouldn’t be a problem for him. The security desk was right in the main lobby on the first floor. No one could enter or exit the building without passing him. After sending the message, I stared at the screen, terrified I’d miss his reply. Luckily, he texted back almost immediately: [Got it. Don’t panic, Chloe. Let me check the cameras right now.] I was incredibly grateful: [Thank you so much! The police should be here soon. You can coordinate with them when they arrive.] I didn’t have any other options. I had just dumped my entire life savings into a down payment for this condo, finally ending years of drifting from one rental apartment to another. If this guy wasn’t caught, I would probably never feel safe sleeping here again. About two or three minutes later, Mr. Miller replied: [Chloe, I’ve been awake at the desk this whole time. Nobody has tried to leave the building, and I haven’t heard anything weird.] [I just checked the playback. Nobody has entered or exited this building since midnight.] [Image Attachment] [Image Attachment] [Image Attachment] [Look, Chloe. Are you pulling a prank on me?] 06 Along with the messages, Mr. Miller sent several screenshots of the lobby security camera feed. I tapped on the images, pinching the screen to zoom in. It was true. The timestamps confirmed that absolutely no one had entered or exited the lobby in the last three hours. But… that didn’t make sense. I frowned deeply. Where the hell did the intruder go? Could he have broken into someone else’s apartment?! After hesitating for a second, I sent Mr. Miller my theory: [Mr. Miller, I’m not joking! I saw a strange man inside my apartment with my own eyes!] [Maybe he snuck into the building yesterday… no, maybe even earlier, and he’s been hiding in the building this whole time.] [There are no cameras in the stairwells, right? He’s probably hiding in one of the stairwells on another floor right now!] Realizing I sounded a bit frantic, I quickly added: [It’s okay, Mr. Miller, thank you. When the police get here, they’ll find him.] As much as I hoped Mr. Miller could catch the guy, this was fundamentally a police matter. If Mr. Miller got hurt trying to help me, I would never forgive myself. Strangely, after I sent that message, Mr. Miller—who had been so responsive just moments ago—didn’t reply. I lowered my phone. In the pitch-black night, I was once again trapped in an agonizing wait. But suddenly, a violent, aggressive pounding erupted against my front door. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! … The knocks were rapid and explosive, terrifyingly loud in the dead silence of the night. I jumped violently, too terrified to even breathe. Was the intruder back? The thought sent a fresh wave of cold sweat down my spine. I didn’t dare speculate. I stayed hidden in the bathroom, furiously texting 911 to ask for an ETA. Seeing the dispatcher reply [Units are pulling up now], I gripped my phone tight. Hurry. Hurry. Please, hurry… I prayed silently in my head. But outside, the knocking escalated into a violent, desperate hammering. SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! … Just as I raised the mop, preparing for a fight to the death… A woman’s voice yelled from the hallway: “Is anyone in there?!” “Chloe! Are you home?!” “If you’re in there, open the door!” 07 I froze. I recognized that voice! It was Sarah, the woman who lived in the apartment directly across the hall from me. “Chloe, are you in there?! Is something wrong?! I thought I heard a weird noise coming from your place!” “Are you okay?! Don’t scare us! Open the door!” “If you’re okay, say something!” Sarah kept pounding on the door, yelling into my apartment. Her voice was hoarse, and she sounded genuinely panicked. Sarah was famous in our building for being incredibly warm and neighborly. She had always looked out for me. I remembered when I first moved in, it was right around Thanksgiving. Sarah saw that I was spending the holiday alone and brought over a massive plate of homemade turkey and stuffing. When the pipe under my kitchen sink burst last week, Sarah made her husband come over and fix it for me. Because of that, whenever I ran into her and her husband in the elevator, I always made sure to chat with them. It seemed my scream earlier had woken her up. Worried about me, she rushed over to check. I kept the mop wedged against the doorframe and cracked the bathroom door open just a tiny fraction. Now, I could hear it perfectly. The person standing outside my front door was definitely Sarah. But I still couldn’t completely let my guard down. Holding the mop like a spear, I mustered my courage, stepped out of the bathroom, and slowly inched my way toward the entryway. After ensuring the living room was completely empty, I carefully pressed my eye against the peephole to look outside. But I couldn’t see anyone. —Everything was completely black! Was the peephole blocked by something? I frowned. Just as I was trying to figure it out, the black mass shifted. What was revealed next… was the bloodshot white of an eyeball! The peephole wasn’t blocked by an object… The person outside was pressing their eye directly against the glass, trying to look inside my apartment! A wave of dizziness hit me, and I instinctively stumbled backward. My legs gave out completely, and I collapsed onto the floor. The voice from outside called out again: “Chloe! Chloe, can you hear me?!” “Honey, if you’re okay, please say something!” “Mr. Miller from security is here too! He said someone broke into your place! We’re all so worried about you!…” 08 The flashing red and blue lights illuminated the night sky. Several patrol cars were already parked outside my building. I was sitting on my couch, wrapped in a blanket, while Sarah sat next to me, rubbing my back. Two officers were sweeping my apartment, while others, guided by Mr. Miller, were checking the security cameras and sweeping the rest of the building for suspects. The commotion had woken up a lot of the residents, and a small crowd had gathered outside my open front door, whispering among themselves. An officer stood in the hallway, calming them down while asking if anyone had seen anything suspicious that night. Watching all of this, Sarah hugged me tightly, her eyes full of pity. “You poor thing. You must have been terrified.” A profound sense of warmth washed over my heart. It turned out that shortly after Mr. Miller got my texts, he left the desk and rushed upstairs. When he got to the 18th floor, he bumped into Sarah, who had been woken up by the noise and had come out to check on me. Because I hadn’t answered the door, they were terrified something horrible had happened to me inside. Desperate to see if I was okay, Sarah had pressed her eye against the peephole, which was what scared me half to death. “So it was just a misunderstanding. I’m so sorry for making you guys worry,” I said to Sarah, feeling deeply embarrassed. “As long as you’re safe! That’s all that matters!” Sarah smiled gently, stroking my hair to comfort me. At that moment, the lead officer walked over to ask some routine questions. “Ms. Davis, did you get a clear look at the intruder’s face?” “The apartment was completely dark, and I didn’t turn on any lights…” I tried to recall the chaotic flashes of memory, feeling a bit lost. But then, I quickly added: “But I am absolutely certain it was a man! And I checked the time—it was definitely before 3:10 AM!” The officer nodded, jotting everything down in his notepad. He asked a few more questions, but since I had been hiding in the bathroom the whole time, there wasn’t much more I could tell him. Just as I was getting frustrated with my lack of helpful information, the officers who had been sweeping the building walked in to report. “Captain, we reviewed the lobby footage. No unauthorized personnel entered or exited the building tonight, and the perimeter sweep came up clean. Also, Ms. Davis lives on the 18th floor. Given the height, the intruder almost certainly entered through the front door.” I stood up anxiously. “What about the bathroom? I leave my bathroom window open 24/7. Could they have used climbing gear or a rope to repel down from the roof?” The young officer looked at me and smiled gently. “Ms. Davis, real life isn’t an action movie. Given the architectural layout of this building, pulling off a stunt like that would be incredibly difficult. And even if a professional thief managed it, they would leave traces. We checked the exterior walls outside all your windows—there are absolutely no scuff marks, rope burns, or footprints.” “We can definitively rule that out.” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but look at my front door. “Then… the intruder really did come through the front door.” My front door had an electronic keypad lock. Hearing my realization, the captain nodded, confirming my theory. “Some electronic locks have known security vulnerabilities, making them susceptible to hacking or brute-force tools. But more often than not, people use birthdays or anniversaries as their PIN, making it incredibly easy for someone who knows you to guess it.” “Also, if you aren’t careful when typing it in, someone walking past could easily memorize your code.” I sighed heavily. It wasn’t like I didn’t know the risks of electronic locks before I bought one. But I’ve always been incredibly forgetful. I constantly locked myself out of my old apartments and had spent a small fortune on locksmiths over the years. So, after weighing the pros and cons, I had installed a keypad lock when I bought this place.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “441670”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 A sudden car crash left me lying on the operating table. The moment the anesthesia failed, I opened my eyes in agonizing pain. The lead surgeon standing over me was my husband, Dr. Roe Hayes. His face showed absolutely no surprise. His voice was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “The people who hit you were your parents,” he said. The words pierced my heart like an ice pick. I trembled, trying to demand an answer, but he didn’t even blink. The cold surgical instruments moved inside me. His voice carried a sick sense of vindictive pleasure. “A year ago, you caused my sister to miscarry. She almost died.” “Now, I am personally removing your three-month-old fetus. Consider us even.” When he held up that tiny, unformed embryo right before my eyes, the reality of what I had just lost finally hit me. A gut-wrenching, soul-tearing hatred surged up my throat, only to be swallowed by a deeper, physical agony. He ordered the nurse to dispose of the tiny life, then turned back to me, his tone conversational. “We either get a divorce so I can openly give her the happiness she deserves…” Seeing my face covered in tears, he added one final condition. “…Or we stay married, but you must accept me taking care of her. You are never allowed to cause her trouble again.” Those words were the final straw that crushed my already snapping nerves. My vision went black, and I passed out entirely. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital recovery room. Roe was sitting by the bed, holding a steaming bowl of chicken soup. His gentle tone made it seem like the nightmare in the operating room had never happened. “I made this for Chloe. She couldn’t finish it, so she told me to bring it to you to help you recover.” Hearing the tenderness when he said the name Chloe snapped me back to reality. A wave of nausea hit me. I violently slapped the hot soup away. “Tell me,” I rasped. “When did the two of you start sleeping together?” The bowl shattered on the floor, the scalding liquid burning the back of my hand. Roe slowly wiped the spilled broth from his scrubs. His expression shifted to one of cold amusement. “Hard to say. If you mean the first time we slept together, that was a year ago on our wedding anniversary. Right there in my office. For as long as you kept calling my phone, we kept going.” A loud ringing exploded in my ears. My mind went completely blank. So that night, they had been together the entire time. No wonder I called him dozens of times and he never picked up, only texting back hours later saying he had just gotten out of surgery. I thought he was saving lives. I didn’t blame him. I even brought him late-night takeout. Not long after that, my younger sister, Chloe, was beaten so badly she miscarried after being caught sleeping with a married man. She called me for help. Worried about her reputation, I quietly paid off the angry wife and stayed by Chloe’s side in the hospital until she was discharged. It was exactly after her surgery that Roe’s attitude toward me turned freezing cold. He constantly used being “on-call” as an excuse to not come home for days. Our intimacy dropped from three times a week to me begging just to get his attention once. I thought the distance was just because we were both so busy with our careers. So, I gave up my chance to be promoted to regional manager. I became a stay-at-home wife, dedicating my life to taking care of him. People laughed at me for throwing away my career, but I did it willingly because I loved him. I thought if I just tried harder, our marriage would go back to how it used to be. I never imagined his heart had already been given to someone else—and that someone was my own sister. He had even murdered my deeply longed-for child just for her. I stared dead at Roe, my throat so raw I could barely make a sound. “I’m so sorry, Val!” My sister, Chloe, suddenly burst into the hospital room. With red, teary eyes, she threw herself at the side of my bed, intentionally pressing her hands down hard onto my fresh surgical wound through the blankets. “It’s all my fault! I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Roe immediately reached out to support her, his eyes softening to absolute tenderness. But when he looked at me, his gaze turned to pure ice. “Don’t blame her. She begged me to keep this a secret forever. I just couldn’t stand seeing her suffer in silence anymore. I want to give her a real future.” My heart felt like it was being ripped apart by bare hands. The pain made it impossible to breathe. With bloodshot eyes, I screamed. “What suffering?! I didn’t cause her miscarriage!” “You want to give her a future, so you personally murder our baby?!” The moment the words left my mouth, Roe’s eyes turned lethal. His voice dripped with mockery. “Valerie, why are you playing the victim? Three years ago, when my career was on the line, you left a divorce agreement on the table and vanished without a trace. I never blamed you for that, did I?” 2 I froze in place. Roe continued, his face devoid of emotion. “Back then, it was Chloe who went through hell to get that audio recording to prove my innocence. She was almost pushed off a balcony and killed for it. And when it was all over, it was Chloe who flew to Europe with me to help me recover mentally. You didn’t even ask if I was okay. So what victim are you pretending to be now?” The blood in my veins turned to ice. Memories from three years ago rushed back. Roe had been maliciously sued by a patient’s family, who claimed he intentionally let the patient die because they didn’t pay him a bribe. His reputation was destroyed, and he was facing prison time. To clear his name, I secretly tracked down the family. While arguing with them, I managed to secretly record them admitting they had fabricated the entire story. But as I tried to leave, they realized what I had done and pushed me down a flight of concrete stairs. I broke my leg and lost the baby I had just found out I was carrying. The doctors told me I might walk with a limp forever and that it would be incredibly difficult for me to ever get pregnant again. I didn’t want to drag Roe down, and I didn’t want him to spend the rest of his life feeling guilty because of what happened to me. So, I gave the flash drive with the recording to Chloe, asking her to hand it over to him. I also signed a divorce agreement, telling her to give it to him if things got too hard. Then, I quietly left the city to hide in a rehab clinic. During those two months of painful physical therapy, Roe never tried to contact me. I assumed he was buried in legal battles. It wasn’t until I finally healed and went home that I found out his name had been cleared weeks ago. He was just vacationing in Europe. I didn’t want to ruin his trip, so I chose to keep my injuries a secret. When he returned, he never brought it up. I thought the lawsuit had traumatized him so much that we were just silently agreeing to leave the past behind. But the truth was, while I was doing agonizing physical therapy just so I could walk back into his arms, Chloe had stolen the credit for saving his life. She stayed by his side day and night. And he—without ever even asking me for the truth—had started hating me to his core. I remembered the day we got married. He held my hands and said, “I will stand by you unconditionally for the rest of my life. I will always believe in you. No matter what happens, nothing will ever tear us apart.” The metallic taste of blood rose in my throat. I lifted my red-rimmed eyes to look at Chloe. “How was your miscarriage my fault? You were the one who slept with a married…” “Ugh!” Chloe suddenly let out a dramatic gag, cutting me off. Roe immediately tensed, holding her by the shoulders. “Are you feeling sick again?” Suddenly, I realized what was happening. “You’re pregnant?” Chloe immediately chimed in. “I’m sorry, Val. I’m carrying Roe’s baby…” Roe nodded without an ounce of shame. “Two months. Twins. I’m having Chloe move into the house so I can take care of her and the babies properly. That nursery you set up will be put to good use.” I had designed that nursery myself. Every piece of furniture, every stuffed animal, I had picked out by hand. I had fantasized countless times about the baby Roe and I would share. And now, I was watching him have children with my own sister. I practically coughed up blood. My voice was a broken rasp. “What about our baby? Roe, that was your own flesh and blood too!” Roe didn’t even blink. “That worthless mistake is already in the biohazard bin.” 3 Those cold words stabbed through my heart like rusted knives. I remembered all the times Roe had whispered in my ear, “Val, I want a baby with you so badly.” Yet he had murdered my child, just so he couldn’t wait to let Chloe carry his. An immense wave of grief and rage swallowed me whole. I grabbed the heavy glass vase from the nightstand and hurled it at them with everything I had. “Get out! Both of you, get the hell out!” As the vase shattered, Roe instinctively pulled Chloe into his arms to shield her from the glass. He turned his head to glare at me, his eyes piercingly cold. “If you can’t handle it, sign the divorce papers. Your parents are already pushing me to marry Chloe as soon as possible. They’ve even picked out names for the twins.” I suddenly remembered what he had said in the operating room: The people who hit you were your parents. So, my parents had known about their affair this entire time. The people I loved most in the world had all betrayed me. It was a pain so absolute, I couldn’t even force out a single tear. I screamed until my voice gave out, chasing them out of the room. I curled into a ball under the thin hospital blanket, shivering violently. The next day, my parents came to the hospital. My father’s tone was harsh and commanding. “What kind of older sister are you? Chloe has always been weaker than you since she was in the womb! Because of you, she lost a baby and almost had to get her uterus removed! Now that she finally has a chance at happiness with Roe, you refuse to divorce him? Are you trying to kill her again?” My mother wiped away fake tears. “They say twins have a telepathic connection, that they’re the closest people in the world. How can your heart be so vicious?” There was no wind in the hospital room, but a freezing chill seeped straight into my bones. I laughed. I laughed until tears finally streamed down my face. “Oh, so you remember we’re twins? I was born exactly three minutes before her! When we were kids, you forced me to let her have everything. Now you expect me to give her my husband too?” “But she is the younger sister! You can’t change that fact!” my mother raised her voice, acting indignant. “If you don’t divorce him, who are Chloe’s babies supposed to call Dad? Do you want her and her children to live in the shadows forever?” “So, you ran me over with your car? Just to clear the way for her? Why didn’t you just kill me?” The moment the words left my mouth, dead silence filled the room. There wasn’t a single trace of guilt on their faces—only annoyance. I clenched my teeth. “I will never sign those papers. I want her to live in the shadows forever. I want her kids to be known as illegitimate bastards!” Smack! My father slapped me hard across the face. “Ungrateful bitch! If I knew you were this toxic, I would have strangled you the minute you were born!” My cheek burned, but the pain in my chest was worse. Five years ago, when my father was hospitalized with liver cancer, I starved myself for a month to lose twenty pounds so I could donate a piece of my liver to save his life. I thought if I sacrificed enough, I could finally earn my parents’ love. But it was never enough. They always wanted more. They wanted to drain my blood and eat my flesh. Seeing I wasn’t backing down, my mother pretended she was going to faint, and my father raised his hand to hit me again. I looked at them one last time. My heart finally died. “Fine. I’ll sign it. I’ll go pack my things today, and from now on, you are no longer my parents.” If I couldn’t have it, I didn’t want any of it. I returned to the house I shared with Roe. As soon as I walked through the front door, I heard sickeningly explicit groans coming from the nursery. “Roe… what if Val catches us in here…” Roe’s voice was thick with lust. “Hold on tighter, baby… Let her find out. Whether she signs the papers or not, you are the only woman I will ever love.” A tidal wave of memories crashed over me. When we first met at the hospital, it was love at first sight for Roe. Known as the untouchable, elite surgeon, he acted like he was addicted to me. To win me over, he cooked and delivered meals to my office every day. The first thing he did after a fourteen-hour surgery was drive to see me. He dropped to one knee at a crowded concert to propose, begging me to stay by his side for the rest of his life. He made me believe in love. He made me think I was his only exception. Suddenly, a weak whimper pulled me back to reality. I followed the sound. It was my six-year-old golden retriever, Buster. He was lying on the floor, a massive pool of blood around his mouth. He was taking shallow, ragged breaths. “Buster…” I dropped to my knees to pick him up and rush him to the vet. But he just looked at me one last time, let out a soft sigh, and stopped breathing in my arms. He had been waiting for me. He waited until he saw me, and then he let go. My mind went completely blank. A soul-shredding agony ripped away the last of my sanity. I kicked the nursery door open. The two of them scrambled apart in panic. Before I could even step forward, Chloe acted as if I had terrified her. She deliberately threw herself backward onto the hardwood floor, letting out a piercing scream and clutching her stomach. “Roe! My stomach hurts so much! The babies… my babies!” Roe’s face went pale. “Don’t panic, I’m taking you to the hospital right now!” He spun around wildly, grabbing clothes off the floor. While his back was turned, Chloe suddenly stopped screaming. She looked at me and flashed a sinister, triumphant smile. “So what if I kicked your stupid dog to death, Val?” she whispered. “All it takes is one word from me, and your baby is dead. You really think you can beat me?” 4 Looking at that face that was nearly identical to my own, the blood rushed to my head. “You psychotic bitch!” I lunged forward, reaching out to wrap my hands around her throat. But before I could even touch her, Roe delivered a brutal kick right into my stomach. “Are you insane?! She’s bleeding and you’re still trying to kill her?! It was just a damn dog!” The dog wasn’t important. The babies were. And I wasn’t. The force of his kick was massive. I was essentially launched backward, crashing hard against the floor. The fresh surgical stitches on my stomach ripped open. Blood poured out, soaking my shirt. Roe looked down at the blood spreading across my stomach. For a fraction of a second, a flash of hesitation crossed his eyes. But then Chloe started screaming again. “Roe… it hurts so much…” “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you!” He didn’t look at me again. He scooped Chloe into his arms and bolted out the door. By the time he reached the front yard, a crowd of nosy neighbors had already gathered, whispering and holding up their phones to record. Roe didn’t slow down. He shoved through the crowd and carried her away. Through the blurry haze of pain, I saw Chloe peek over his shoulder, giving me one last victorious smirk. I tried to push myself off the floor, but a blinding wave of pain ripped through my abdomen. I collapsed and lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I was tied to a bed in a beachfront vacation cabin. It was the property Roe had bought in my name, a place he used to bring me when he took time off work. But right now, I was hogtied on the mattress. Standing in front of me were three overweight men, covered in disgusting sores and pustules, staring at me like hungry wolves. In the corner of the room, a camera on a tripod was pointed directly at the bed. Realizing what was about to happen, my entire body began to violently shake. I looked toward the doorway, where Roe was standing, his face entirely devoid of emotion. “Roe, what the hell are you doing? No matter what happened, I am still your wife…” This was the man who swore he would support me unconditionally, who promised he would always be on my side. But when he opened his mouth, his voice was dripping with venom. “Valerie, not only did you cause Chloe to almost lose the babies, but you let the neighbors film the whole thing. Now it’s all over the internet. She’s getting cyberbullied. You don’t deserve to be her sister!” “Three years ago, after what you did to me, I never abandoned you! I even thought that if you refused to sign the divorce papers, I would just let it go. We could stay married, even if it was just on paper. But what did you do? Is this how you repay my mercy?” “These three men are patients I pulled from an infectious disease ward… Don’t worry, I won’t let them actually r*pe you. I’m just having them pose with you. We’ll take some photos and post them online. I want you to experience the exact same pain Chloe is feeling. I want you to know what it feels like to have your dignity dragged through the mud.” Seeing him turn to leave, I suddenly remembered something. A year ago, when Chloe was hospitalized for her miscarriage, a man came to visit her. That man was one of Roe’s colleagues from the surgical department! I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Chloe played you, Roe! A year ago, she didn’t get hit by a car! She was caught sleeping with a married man and the man’s wife beat the baby out of her! That man was your coworker! And three years ago, I didn’t abandon you, I—” “Shut up! You literally ran her over, and now you have the nerve to frame her?!” Roe looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. “You walked out on me when I needed you most, Valerie. You have no heart!” As I stared at him in sheer disbelief, he delivered the final, fatal blow. “By the way, I had your mother skin that dog of yours and boil it into a stew for Chloe. Dog meat is highly nutritious for pregnant women.” Boom. My brain completely shut down. Buster had been with me for six years. When Roe and Chloe were vacationing in Europe and I was home alone recovering from broken bones and a lost pregnancy, Buster was the only one who stayed by my side. I could see his little head resting on my knees. I could see every moment of the last five years I had spent with Roe. The pain was so excruciating it felt like I was being sliced alive. After Roe walked out the door, the three men lunged toward the bed. “All those stuck-up bitches think we’re disgusting… We haven’t had a taste of a real woman in years…” My scalp prickled with terror. “Roe told you to just take pictures!” “Yeah, well, your sister gave us different orders. She said if we’re gonna put on a show, we might as well make it real. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you enjoy it.” I shook violently, screaming for help, but Roe was already gone. Just as they ripped my shirt, my hand brushed against a heavy glass lamp on the nightstand. I grabbed it and smashed it directly into the face of the closest man. While the other two recoiled in shock, I scrambled off the bed, sprinted out of the room, and bolted out the front door. By the side of the road, Roe was opening the door to his SUV. Behind me, the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer. I opened my mouth to scream for Roe, but before I could make a sound, I saw Chloe lean out of the passenger side window. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they kissed deeply. Despair crashed over me like a tidal wave. I thought of my murdered child. My dead dog. My parents who sold me out. And the man who had just died in my heart. I knew I couldn’t outrun those men. And honestly, I didn’t want to run anymore. Without a second of hesitation, I turned sharply and sprinted straight toward the jagged cliff edge. The roaring ocean crashed against the rocks below. I spread my arms and threw myself into the void. In the moment of freefall, I thought I heard Roe’s voice, screaming with a completely raw, desperate agony. “Valerie! No!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “440991”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The men at the Institute took his money and cut out a piece of my brain. My frontal lobe. Now, I’m a puppet, devoid of emotion, existing only to obey. It all started when my sister’s assistant, Ryan, showed up with a forged paternity test, claiming I was an imposter. He wept, telling my family I’d used my position as the family heir to lord over him, that I’d broken his leg in a fit of rage. To make it up to him, they sent me to the Institute. When I got out, I just nodded and agreed to whatever they said. Ryan, disgusted, told me to jump in the pool and wash myself clean. I did. My parents pulled me from the bottom of the pool, their faces masks of horror. My sister, Sophia, accused me of putting on a show. She demanded I break my own leg as an apology. I turned and walked straight into oncoming traffic. She yanked me back, her hand trembling uncontrollably. Later, Ryan framed me again, claiming I’d drugged him and thrown him to a woman with an STD. Sophia slapped me, spitting that if he got sick, I was dead. I picked up a knife and aimed it at my heart. My parents froze in the doorway. Sophia grabbed my hand, her grip like a vice. She called me an idiot, asking why I did everything anyone told me to. I’m not an idiot. … The tip of the blade broke the skin, a sharp, wet sound piercing the silence. It was only millimeters from my heart, but I felt nothing. My hand moved to push it deeper. Sophia, her hands slick with my blood, wrenched the knife away. “Nolan! Are you insane?!” But my eyes didn’t even blink. Her shock was absolute. I wasn’t insane. They had performed a lobotomy on me. I had no emotions. I didn’t know what pain was. My mother’s eyes welled with tears. “Nolan, what are you doing?” My father, heartbroken, slapped me across the face, trying to knock some sense into me. “You animal! Your sister was kind enough to bring you home! Who are you trying to guilt-trip with this pathetic act?!” Only then did I stop. Without an order from my family, I didn’t dare continue. I just curled up on the floor. My docile state only seemed to infuriate Sophia more. “Nolan! Stop playing the fool who can’t understand a word! The Ashtons took you back, what more could you possibly want?!” I answered like a machine. “I want for nothing. My sister said I nearly got Ryan infected. I was carrying out my sister’s punishment.” Seven years of “re-education” had taught me that resistance was pointless. Obedience was survival. The slightest frown would earn me unspeakable torture at the Institute. A moment later, the world went black as I passed out from blood loss. At the hospital, the doctor who was supposed to be treating me was called away by Ryan, who was suddenly complaining that his old leg injury was acting up. A nurse just poured alcohol directly onto my open wound. The sting woke me, and the first thing I heard was Ryan’s voice, dripping with false sincerity. “Nolan, man, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come back and… taken your place. Don’t do this self-pity routine, please. It just makes the family hate me more.” “I haven’t seen you in seven years,” he continued, “but I’ve felt guilty every single day.” A lie. I remembered him clearly. He was the one who told the Institute to perform the surgery. Strange. Why wouldn’t he admit he’d visited me? Blood was still seeping from the gash in my chest. Just as my sister was about to call for a doctor for me, Ryan turned away, his face pale. My mother gasped. “Ryan’s faint at the sight of blood! Someone treat Nolan’s wound, quickly!” Before a doctor could even approach, I had already torn off my shirt, balled it up, and shoved it hard against the wound. At the Institute, when they beat me until I was a bruised mess, I often used my clothes as bandages. The infections nearly killed me a few times. Ryan sucked in a sharp breath. “Nolan, I’m sorry. It’s my fault the doctor left.” Sophia pushed down the flicker of pity she felt for me, her brow furrowed in a deep scowl. “Do you really need the victim to apologize to you?” she snapped. “Seven years of re-education, and the Institute didn’t teach you the price of your mistakes?” Of course they did. I dropped to my knees in front of Ryan, dragging my injured leg as I slammed my forehead against the floor. “Ryan, it’s all my fault! If you’re still not satisfied, I promise the next time I stab myself, I’ll finish the job!” Ryan sighed dramatically. “You lied to this family for seven years. Are you going to keep treating us like fools?” To make him believe me, I started stabbing myself again, each cut deep enough to show bone. For seven years, this was the only way I could earn a bowl of spoiled leftovers at the Institute. Covered in fresh blood, I offered a placating smile. “Do you believe me now, Ryan?” Sophia’s voice was sharp as glass. “You’re disgusting!” “The party is about to start. Stop embarrassing the Ashton family!” As they left, Ryan leaned in close, his eyes glinting. “Nolan,” he whispered, “if you want us to believe you, get on your knees and wash my feet. In front of everyone at the party tonight. Then we’ll know you’re not acting.” I nodded forcefully. After a quick, messy bandaging job, I made my way to the Ashton’s grand ballroom. My mother flinched at the sight of me, wrapped head to toe in gauze. “Nolan, you should be in the hospital! What are you doing here?” Ignoring the confused stares of the guests, I walked directly to Ryan and knelt at his feet. Ignoring the fire in my own wounds, I began to remove his leather shoes to wash his feet. Ryan “accidentally” ground his heel into an open cut on my foot. When my hand trembled, spilling the basin of water, his face twisted from a smirk to a mask of feigned terror. “Nolan! You… you burned me with hot water!” The scalding water had drenched my clothes and skin, but I ignored the searing pain and kept my head bowed to the floor. “I’m sorry, brother.” The guests around us turned pale at the sight of my bloody, mangled wounds. Sophia, however, rushed to his side, cradling the foot that had been splashed. “Ryan, are you okay?” He winced. “Sophia, he’s just trying to drive me away! I… I should just leave the Ashton family for good…” He stood to leave, ignoring Sophia’s protests as she hurried after him. But a friend of the family, a neuroscientist, grabbed her arm, his expression grave. “Sophia, wait. Look at Nolan. Something’s not right with him…” She shot an irritated glance back at me. The skin scalded by the water was already peeling away as I scrubbed at the floor. Blood soaked through the bandages on my torso, but I seemed completely unaware, focused only on cleaning the spill. They didn’t know that at the Institute, a single drop of blood left on the floor meant a thousand times more punishment. “It’s like he doesn’t feel pain anymore,” the doctor said, his voice low. “He’s just a machine executing commands. A normal person wouldn’t mutilate themselves just to follow an order. Sophia, there’s something seriously wrong with his brain!” “That’s impossible,” she murmured, but she hesitated. My father, embarrassed by the scene, scowled. “I doubt it. Making a scene at an event like this… If he’s so committed to the act, why doesn’t he just kill himself?” Without a second thought, I agreed. I grabbed a steak knife from a nearby table and plunged it toward my heart. The doctor moved like lightning, catching my wrist. “Stop!” I obediently froze. Crash. Sophia’s wine glass shattered on the marble floor. My father stood paralyzed. My mother’s eyes filled with tears again. “That boy… could something have really happened to him at the Institute? Even if he’s not our blood, we raised him for so many years…” Strange. I thought they hated me. Why did they seem so afraid of losing me? My mother stared at my wounds, at a loss. My father’s gaze was a mixture of irritation and scrutiny. After a moment, seeing I wasn’t dead, Sophia’s anger returned. She ordered the butler, “Get him out of here. I don’t want Ryan to see him and get upset!” They tied me up in the garden. No one dared to bring me food. For three days, I drank from the sprinkler hose to survive. I slept curled in a pile of dead leaves. Ryan would cruise by in the Maybach, whistling at me like a dog. I’d smile back instinctively, and he’d sneer with open contempt. “Pathetic.” Was I? I didn’t think so. Compared to the seven years of endless darkness and oppression, sleeping here was paradise. One day, Ryan had the driver stop the car. He held out his wrist to me. “Look at you, Nolan. A pathetic stray. What’s the difference between you and a dog?” I gave my customary, agreeable smile. He patted my head. “Good dog. Now, be a good boy and bite me.” I bared my teeth and bit down. The next second, a sharp slap sent my head ringing. Sophia had arrived. “Have you completely lost your mind? When did you learn to bite people like an animal?” I didn’t argue. I just smiled, like a dog. Ryan scrambled behind his sister, feigning terror. “Sophia, look at him! He’s smiling at me! It’s terrifying!” Sophia’s face was a mask of ice. She ordered the bodyguards to take me to a psychiatric hospital. “I think you’ve really lost your mind. Go in there and get it treated!” I memorized her words. That night, I swallowed an entire bottle of powerful sedatives. By the time the night nurse noticed something was wrong, my bed was soaked in the black blood I had vomited. The first thing I saw when I regained consciousness was my mother, sobbing uncontrollably as she gently stroked my hair. “How did my Nolan become like this? He wasn’t… he wasn’t like this before…” She was right. The boy I used to be—bright, dazzling, proud—was dead. He died the day he was thrown into the Institute. A flicker of pity crossed my father’s face, but his words were still sharp. “He’s not our biological son, after all. Bad genes. He’s probably resentful now that he knows the truth, trying to use us, to harm us…” I wanted to say, No, I would never hurt you. But the oxygen tube in my throat silenced me. Ryan’s choked voice reached my ears. “Mom, Dad… if Nolan wakes up and really holds a grudge against me… I don’t think it will be just my leg he breaks this time.” Sophia let out a soft sigh, then made a promise to soothe him. “I’ll pay the hospital ten times their usual fee to… delay Nolan’s medication.” “It would be better… if he just died here.” I suddenly understood what my family wanted. The moment I regained a sliver of strength, I used all of it to rip the tube from my throat. My heart rate and blood pressure monitors screamed. The blaring alarm drained the color from Sophia’s face. She yelled instinctively. “Doctor! Help my brother! Please!” Ryan’s smile vanished, his eyes flashing with jealousy. The doctor who saved me clutched his chest, catching his breath. “A few more seconds and he would have been gone! What kind of family are you, leaving him unattended like this?!” My parents and Sophia stared, speechless, before stammering apologies. Lying on the edge of death, I was utterly confused. Didn’t they want me to die? Why did they save me when I was so close? Ryan’s voice cracked with rage. “Nolan, are you done with your act? It looks like seven years did nothing to fix you!” “I’m going to have Mom and Dad send you back to the Institute!” I listened quietly, my face a blank slate. But unexpectedly, Sophia hesitated, a frown creasing her brow. “Send him back… What if something happens?” My parents fell silent, thinking. After all, when they’d brought me home, I was twenty pounds lighter, covered in bruises, a ghost of my former self. Ryan turned to me. “Nolan, answer me. Are you willing to go back to the Institute to continue your re-education?” I nodded obediently. “Yes. Thank you, Ryan.” A short while later, as Ryan was handling my discharge papers, he gave me a cruel smile. “You’re going back there to die, Nolan.” I had no complaints. I just followed him. He ordered me to get into the driver’s seat of the car. “Get in, start the car, and step on the gas. Aim for me.” I nodded, confused, and was just about to press the accelerator when the Ashton’s Maybach screeched to a halt, cutting me off. A bodyguard ripped my door open and dragged me out. “Nolan! Have you had enough?!” My sister was trembling with rage. “You tried to run Ryan down!” My mother stared at me, her eyes filled with a profound disappointment, before turning to comfort Ryan through her tears. “Ryan, you’ve suffered so much. From this moment on, the Ashton family will show him no more mercy!” I knew I had made them angry again. And mistakes have consequences. I slammed my head against the car. I heard the crack of my frontal bone as it fractured. Ryan’s eyes widened in fake shock. “The more you play the victim, Nolan, the more you must hate me in your heart!” I said nothing, despite the splitting pain in my head. They didn’t like it when I talked back. Seven years ago, it was for refuting Ryan’s lies that they threw me into the Institute, where they performed the surgery that made me so obedient. I was all better now. I would do anything they said. I hoped that would make them happy. “No-lan Ash-ton!” It was the second time my sister had said my name with such chilling coldness. “Hasn’t this family been good to you? You enjoyed twenty years of luxury that belonged to Ryan! Bringing you home was the biggest mistake of my life! You almost got him killed!” My father shoved my fractured head against the pavement, grinding it into the asphalt. “You ungrateful beast! We should have let you die in the hospital!” I coughed up blood and struggled to my feet. I knew they hadn’t forgiven me. I prepared to slam my head against the car again to atone. If I hit it harder this time, hard enough to shatter my skull, surely they would calm down? My mother screamed, a wild, desperate sound. “Enough! Stop torturing yourself…” My father ordered the bodyguards, “Throw him in the Institute. And you, Nolan, you’d better die quickly. Don’t keep Ryan from living his life!” My family watched as the bodyguards tossed me into the trunk like a bag of trash. They were only concerned with taking Ryan back to the hospital for a full check-up. I was back in the familiar place. A bodyguard flicked a lit cigarette into a nearby trash can. “Stay put!” I curled up obediently in a corner, unmoving even as I watched the cigarette ignite the trash, the flames catching on the curtains. As the fire roared toward me, a wall of infernal heat, I calmly closed my eyes and waited to die. I just wanted to ask: I’ve been so good. Once I’m really dead, can I come home? At the hospital, the family breathed a collective sigh of relief as they reviewed Ryan’s perfectly normal test results. My father’s voice was ice when he heard the bodyguard’s report. “Nolan loves his little life-and-death dramas, doesn’t he? Fine. Let him stay there and rot. If anyone in this family so much as mentions his name again, they can get out!” But the neuroscientist frowned. He pulled a file from his desk drawer—the surgical report for my frontal lobotomy. “Ms. Ashton, Nolan isn’t acting. His behavior is the result of a severe brain injury.” Sophia was dismissive. “We all know he’s got something wrong in his head!” “This is different!” The doctor slammed the report on the table. The words “Successful Excision” made a sudden, sickening premonition rise in my mother’s chest. She fought to keep her voice steady. “A frontal lobotomy… what does that mean?” The doctor’s expression was grim. “It means the part of Nolan’s brain that controls impulse, emotion, and resistance has been surgically removed! He has no feelings, no ability to refuse an order. He will do anything to please, to obey a command, even if that command will lead to his own death!” “The Institute he was in for seven years is a notorious black site for abuse! They arranged the surgery through a private clinic! And this,” he said, pointing to the bottom of the page, “is the signature of the family representative who authorized it. Ryan.” Seeing Ryan’s name on the form, their world exploded. At the same time, the doctor produced another document: the real paternity test. “I found the original in the archives. There’s something you’ve been wrong about for seven years.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “441007”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel