Category: English

I’m just an ordinary human. But I’m the fated mate of Alpha Sebastian, a werewolf. For five years, I thought he truly loved me. Then the day I found out I was pregnant, I overheard a secret. In the werewolf world, only those who complete the Mark ceremony are considered true mates. “Alpha Sebastian marking Diana is for the good of the pack. She has the bloodline of powerful werewolf warriors. She’s more suited to be Luna.” “As for Miss Elaine… she’s just a pet the Alpha keeps around. Humor her, keep her happy.” I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just silently packed my things. They would never know that in half a month, I would disappear from Sebastian’s world completely. Elaine POV Five years. I had finally been blessed with this child. I waited in the hospital corridor for my prenatal checkup, my mind planning how to surprise Sebastian. As I turned the corner, a hushed conversation drifted into my ears, making me stop in my tracks involuntarily. “So you’re saying Alpha Sebastian still hasn’t Marked that human?” “Of course not. She’s just a human. Even if she is his fated mate, she’s too weak, can’t compare to Diana. Diana’s father was once the most powerful werewolf warrior in the pack.” “But didn’t he have a grand wedding with Miss Elaine?” “That was just a human ceremony. Only those Marked by the alpha are truly Luna, so the one to inherit the Alpha’s position and territory will only be Diana’s child.” “Poor Miss Elaine, she still thinks she’s…” “Shh, keep your voice down. The Alpha warned us not to let her know. After all, she is the Alpha’s ‘Fated Mate,’ and the Alpha does have feelings for her.” “Feelings are one thing, but what power can a human bring to the Pack? Alpha choosing to Mark Diana is the most beneficial decision for the Pack. As for Miss Elaine… she’s just a pet the Alpha keeps by his side. Just humor her.” When I left the hospital, my whole body was ice cold. The joy of becoming a mother for the first time was crushed to pieces. Those words hit me like a frozen hammer, pounding away at everything I believed. Our five-year marriage… in the werewolf world, it meant nothing?! Sebastian and I met when we were eighteen. I was still in school at the time. Sebastian pursued me for a whole month, and on prom night he formally confessed to me and told me his true identity. He was the Alpha of Moonclaw Pack. He gave me a grand wedding and brought me back to Moonclaw Pack. Everyone said Sebastian loved me, loved me enough to pluck the stars from the sky for me. But why would he, where I couldn’t see, give the Mark that represents eternity to another woman? I barely hesitated before immediately driving to that private club where Sebastian and his circle often gathered. I had to ask him about this face to face. When I found the most secluded VIP room in the club, laughter and the clinking of glasses came from inside. I stood outside the half-open door, and through the gap, I saw the man surrounded by everyone. He wore a finely tailored casual suit, his figure tall and handsome. His face radiated a happiness I had never seen before, like a weight had been lifted, and the wine glass in his hand reflected amber light in the dim lighting. That was my husband of five years, Sebastian. “Congratulations, Sebastian, you finally got what you wanted!” “Honestly, Sebastian, this was a brilliant move. Marking Diana in the Pack, giving Elaine a dream wedding in the human world to keep her satisfied. You’ve managed both sides perfectly.” “So what is Elaine to you? These five years… weren’t you afraid of being found out?” “You don’t get it.” Someone laughed. “Sebastian feels guilt toward Diana. More than that, responsibility. If Diana hadn’t saved Elaine back then, Elaine would’ve been the one splashed with poison. Sebastian said he owes Diana a lifetime. Marking her, making her Luna. It’s compensation and also him choosing a suitable Luna for the Pack.” “What a brilliant strategy!” I froze outside the door, like someone had pushed me into the deep sea, where even breathing became a luxury. I even wondered if I was hearing things. But the next second, Sebastian’s own words threw me completely into an icy abyss. “I’m serious about Diana.” His tone was calm and steady, each word carrying undeniable determination. “She sacrificed her dream of becoming a werewolf warrior to save Elaine, and now she can never shift again. All she wants is a definite status and a secure future. I can give them to her.” So that’s how it was. My eyes instantly welled up. So that conversation I accidentally overheard wasn’t baseless rumor, but a carefully laid plan of his. Five years ago, during an outing, we unfortunately encountered an attack by a crazed Rogue. At that critical moment, Diana rushed forward without hesitation, pushing me aside and blocking the attack. She was splashed with poison from the Rogue. Though she survived, no one could cure the poison, so Diana permanently lost her ability to shift. She had been one of the most agile and skilled warriors in the Pack. To repay her life-saving grace, Sebastian and I took care of everything for her, seeking the best treatment and providing all the resources she needed. Sebastian said at the time that Diana saving me was saving his life. He was willing to give everything to make it up to her. I just never imagined that his way of making it up to her would be to become Diana’s true mate. The ridiculous thing is, for five whole years, I had no idea. Sebastian’s friend asked another question. “What about Elaine? If she finds out…” I watched him lower his eyes, his slender fingers tapping lightly on his phone screen, his tone carrying the confidence of someone in complete control. “She’s just human, she can’t smell our scents. As long as I continue treating Elaine well, she’ll never find out. All of you keep your mouths shut and don’t let anything slip in front of her.” The next second, my phone buzzed. I looked down at the message Sebastian sent, my heart feeling like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, cold spreading from my fingertips all the way to my bones. “Sweetheart, I miss you. Tonight is just a boring business dinner, every second without you is torture. On our anniversary, I’ll make sure to spend quality time with you. Love, Sebastian.” I gripped my phone tightly, looking up at him in the distance, laughing and talking among the crowd, my heart throbbing with wave after wave of dense, stabbing pain. My vision gradually blurred as hot tears spilled uncontrollably. This wasn’t my Sebastian. My Sebastian was the boy who would pick snow velvet flowers from cliffs for me. He was the man who rented out an entire observatory on my birthday just to show me a star named after me. He was the man who, on my parents’ death anniversary, would put aside everything to quietly stay with me all day. He was the man who, after marriage, pampered me into a princess who knew nothing of worldly suffering, spending nights endlessly entwined with me… Not this liar before me, who said he loved me while carving another woman into his soul. My heart felt like it was being cut with knives. I bit my lip hard. My phone vibrated again. It was his call. I took a deep breath, retreated to a quieter corner of the hallway, hesitated for a second, then answered. “Elaine, where are you? Have you eaten dinner? It sounds like… there’s an echo where you are?” His voice was as gentle as always, tender and affectionate, with vague music in the background. “Sebastian, what are you doing?” I instinctively clenched my fist, my nails digging deep into my palm. I thought, as long as he was willing to confess, I would give him a chance to explain. “I’m discussing some business with a few partners, it’s giving me a headache.” His tone carried deliberately manufactured fatigue. “These kinds of occasions, you know, boring as hell.” I suddenly laughed, though the light in my eyes extinguished inch by inch. After a moment of silence, I said softly, “Okay.” He immediately sensed something was wrong. “Sweetheart, are you unhappy? Who upset you?” “It’s crowded, I’ll hang up now.” The moment I hung up, I heard the sound of the private room door opening. I instinctively ducked behind a decorative column in the hallway and saw a girl in a dress walk out of the room. It was Diana. She seemed to have come out to take a call, but soon Sebastian followed her out. “Sebastian, my foot hurts a little, it’s too stuffy inside.” Diana’s voice carried a pampered tone. “Let me see.” His tone held a precious carefulness I’d never heard before. He just naturally knelt down, carefully rubbing her ankle, his eyes full of heartache. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have made you stand so long, shouldn’t have had you wear these shoes.” That tenderness, compared to his dismissive “boring business dinner” on the phone with me, stabbed painfully at my eyes. So his love could be divided, his heartache could be replicated. Even the lie about it being “boring as hell” came so naturally. Sebastian, how can your heart hold two people? I fled in panic, hiding in the shadows of the fire escape, curling up and hugging myself, letting tears fall silently. I cried until I was nearly exhausted before slowly standing up. The light in my eyes died. What was left was pure resolve. This five-year fake marriage. I didn’t want it anymore. This man, Sebastian. I didn’t want him either. Since Diana was the one he was willing to Mark as his true mate, I’d give them what they wanted. In half a month, it would be my parents’ death anniversary. After I said goodbye to them, I’d leave. And never come back.

Elaine POV After leaving the bar, my mind was in chaos, not knowing what to do. So I returned to the hospital to continue my unfinished prenatal checkup, wanting to calm myself down through this process. The doctor told me, “Miss Elaine, that accident five years ago injured your uterus. Being able to conceive is already a miracle. You need to rest well and avoid stress and risks.” My fingertips went ice cold, my heart hit with another unexpected sharp pain. Sebastian had never told me about this. All these years, when people urged me to give the alpha an heir soon, Sebastian always took the responsibility himself, saying he wanted a few more years of just the two of us. In that moment, my eyes welled up. He used to consider me in everything, afraid I would be sad. But no matter how well he treated me, it couldn’t change the fact that he had deceived me. “Thank you, doctor. I’ll be careful.” I heard myself say. I walked out of the examination room in a daze, my steps unsteady, but at the end of the corridor, I saw Sebastian and Diana. Sebastian was carefully helping Diana out of an examination room, undisguised joy and tension in his expression. His gentle gaze was glued to her face, unwilling to look away for even a moment. “Sebastian, don’t be so nervous. I’m just having some early pregnancy reactions, I’m not sick.” Diana’s eyes crinkled with a girlish charm. Sebastian showed a rare smile, but his tone was incredibly tense. “This is our first child, we can’t have any mistakes.” I gripped the examination report in my hand tightly, feeling the temperature drain from my body bit by bit. In that moment, I seemed to clearly hear the sound of my heart shattering inch by inch. So pain at its extreme doesn’t bring tears. Sebastian helped Diana into the elevator. I silently tore the examination report in my hand into pieces. Sebastian had no need, and no right, to know about this child’s existence. After throwing the pieces in the trash, I took the elevator to the underground parking garage. As if fate was playing a cruel trick, I encountered them again. In that moment, possessed by some impulse, I started my car and followed them from a distance. Sebastian brought Diana to the restaurant within the Pack that had been specially built for me. My heart completely sank to the bottom. That restaurant had been renovated for me on my birthday last year. It sat on the best scenic spot in the territory, with huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the starry sky above the entire valley. Every decoration inside, even every specialty dish on the menu, was designed according to my preferences. Compared to werewolves’ rough eating habits, it better suited my human tastes. He had personally told me this was our exclusive corner. But now, he had personally brought another woman inside. In the restaurant, Diana stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window with the most magnificent starry view. Sebastian pushed over a cart covered with white cloth, topped with exquisite desserts. He elegantly took a velvet box from the cart and opened it. Inside was a dazzling constellation necklace. “Congratulations to my Luna on becoming a mother-to-be.” In that instant, I could barely stand. “Sebastian… thank you.” Diana’s eyes reddened with tears. “And you personally made desserts for me.” “Try them.” Sebastian’s voice was unbearably tender. “After you eat, go back and rest. You’ve been with me too long, now it’s my turn to go back and keep Elaine company.” Diana blinked understandingly, deliberately squeezing out a few tears. But Sebastian was full of heartache, pulling her into his embrace. “Silly girl, I’m not going anywhere today, I’m staying with you. Don’t forget, we’re the true mates.” I hid around the corner, slowly backing away, my back against the cold wall, the chill spreading along my spine, freezing my whole body until I shook. Yes. Diana was Sebastian’s true mate, recognized by the werewolf world. And I was just a ridiculous human who had been deceived and remained oblivious for five whole years. I remembered when Sebastian first brought me here, he had also prepared an identical necklace for me. To make that dessert for me, he secretly studied with a Michelin chef for a whole month. “Elaine, try my cooking. From now on, I’ll take care of all your meals.” “In this lifetime, I’ll only love you.” As he put the necklace on me, he made that vow in my ear. But now, this love and affection that was supposed to be uniquely mine had been completely and precisely replicated for Diana. My chest felt tight and painful. So Sebastian’s lifetime was this short. I fled in panic, tears already streaming down my face when I left the restaurant. Immediately after, I began liquidating all the assets under my name, separating everything connected to Sebastian. The inheritance my parents left me was enough to live on for the rest of my life. And I just wanted one thing. To completely cut ties with him.

Elaine POV I didn’t return home until dusk. The enormous villa was empty and hollow, with only a single lonely lamp lit in the entrance hall. I practically dragged myself onto the sofa, my gaze sweeping over the art pieces and books we’d chosen together throughout the house. My heart felt crushed by a giant boulder, each beat pulling out clear and sharp pain. I raised my hand to rub my temples, forcing myself to get up and walk to the bookshelf. That first out-of-print art book we found together. He had laughed and praised my impeccable taste. The art history book full of our notes. He’d held my waist and promised we’d visit every museum in the world. And the poetry collection he’d hunted everywhere for me. On the title page, in his elegant script: “To my beloved Elaine, my one and only.” … I pulled out one of the books and opened it. Then, I tore out every word he had written, page by page, until it was shredded. The sound of tearing paper was especially clear in the empty living room. All through the night, I mechanically repeated the same motion, bit by bit completely severing the thoughts, passions, and souls we once shared. By dawn, my arms were numb, my fingertips had lost all feeling. And Sebastian never came home. Today was supposed to be our wedding anniversary. At midnight on our anniversary, Sebastian’s social media updated right on schedule. It was a video he had personally edited, recording all the moments of our five years together, with a deeply emotional caption. The comments were full of envious voices. The outdoor screen in the pack territory plaza was also playing that video on loop. The lawn outside the villa had been transformed into a sea of roses at some point. In the center of the rose garden sat a drone, carrying a huge gift box containing a set of limited edition art supplies I’d been wanting forever. Through the speaker system, his deep magnetic voice played on repeat. “Elaine, happy anniversary. I love you, just as I did in the beginning.” I expressionlessly pulled the curtains shut, burying myself under the covers, shutting out the world’s noise. Before long, his call came through, his tone full of apology. “Sweetheart, I need to discuss some cooperation with another pack’s alpha, I can’t make it back today. When I return, I’ll make it up to you with an even grander anniversary celebration.” Listening to his flawless lies, I suddenly laughed, though my laughter trembled slightly. “It’s fine, you’re busy.” “Sweetheart, you’re upset.” He keenly sensed my emotions. “You don’t like the surprise I prepared? Don’t be angry, I’ll make it up to you double in a few days.” “No, work is important.” My tone was calm. “I’m a bit tired, I want to sleep.” I hung up the phone and curled up, desperately suppressing the pain in my chest. I don’t know how much time passed before the bedroom door was suddenly thrown open, a blinding beam of light flooding in. Backlit, I saw Sebastian standing in the doorway, panic all over his face. His hair was disheveled, his face pale, those deep eyes filled with fear and relief. Perhaps because he sensed something wrong with my emotions and couldn’t reach me no matter what, he had actually used his private jet to rush back. The moment he saw me, he practically rushed over, pulling me tightly into his arms, his voice hoarse and choked. “Thank god you’re alright! Sweetheart, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” His eyes were red, his body trembling uncontrollably. “I’ll never leave you alone again. When you didn’t answer my calls, my whole world collapsed.” “Nothing is more important than you. I came back to be with you.” I said nothing. He assumed I was still angry, kneeling on one knee by the bed, coaxing me in a low voice. “Elaine, promise me, never ignore my calls again, never ignore me. I’ll truly go insane.” His nervousness and fear didn’t seem fake. He did love me. But was this love from possessiveness over his fated mate, or was it genuine? “You came back so quickly.” I forced a smile, speaking softly. His expression changed slightly, a flash of guilt in his eyes, and he immediately changed the subject. “Sweetheart, you haven’t eaten all day, have you? I’ll take you to the restaurant, I made your favorites.” “I’m not going.” I shook my head. He was clearly flustered. “Then rest, I’ll go downstairs and cook.” “Okay.” I nodded coldly, turning over with my back to him. He thought I was still sulking, took a deep breath, and left the room. The moment the door closed, I lay with my eyes open, staring into the darkness, my heart a wasteland.

Elaine POV About ten minutes later, a commotion suddenly came from downstairs. I went down and saw Sebastian’s friends filling the living room. They were frantically gluing together the torn book pages one by one, trying to put them back on the shelf, as if reconstructing those paper fragments could bring everything back to how it was. Seeing me appear, several people spoke at once. “Elaine, Alpha Sebastian nearly turned all of Europe upside down looking for you, don’t scare him like this.” “Next time you’re angry, tell us, we’ll help you beat him up, just don’t turn off your phone again. Sebastian will really go crazy.” “Yeah, when Sebastian saw all those shredded papers on the floor, his face went white. He almost fainted on the spot, and he insisted on going through the trash, saying he had to glue every single piece back together.” “Stop talking.” Sebastian stood to the side, his face full of remorse. “It’s all my fault for making Elaine feel wronged. However she treats me, I’ll accept it.” “Sebastian truly loves Elaine to the extreme. He has no pride at all in front of her. She’s so blessed.” I looked in the direction of the voice and realized Diana had also arrived at some point, standing in the crowd with an envious expression. Sebastian looked perfectly natural, a gentle smile on his lips. “Of course I’ll spoil the woman who’s mine.” My stomach suddenly churned with violent nausea. I spoke flatly. “Don’t bother putting the books back, I want to change the style.” Sebastian immediately came to my side, reaching out to put his arm around my waist, his tone gentle and firm. “Alright, everyone stop. Listen to me.” He helped me sit on the sofa, then turned back to the kitchen. Soon, the dining table was filled with dishes I used to love. But I had no appetite. With one hand, he thoughtfully served me food, coaxing me in a low voice to eat more; but under the table, his other hand was tightly clasped with Diana’s. In that moment, I suddenly found all of this absurd to the extreme. I just wanted to escape. After dinner, Sebastian took me away from the pack to the seaside. There he had prepared a fireworks show over the ocean for me, and hired my favorite jazz band. Halfway through the performance, he excused himself to go to the restroom. Possessed by some impulse, I followed him. In the yacht’s VIP lounge, I saw Diana actively throw herself into Sebastian’s arms, standing on her toes to kiss his lips. “Sebastian, I missed you so much, just for a moment.” Sebastian wrapped one arm around her waist, one hand pressing the back of her head, deepening the kiss as the room’s temperature suddenly rose. After a long while, Diana pushed him away with a flushed face, breathing heavily. “That’s enough, you should go back and keep Elaine company.” “Can you bear to let me go?” Sebastian’s eyes were tinged with desire, his fingertips caressing her red lips. Diana lowered her eyes. “I can’t, but Elaine wouldn’t even answer your calls because of me. I don’t want her to be sad anymore. I can wait, wait until you’re done keeping her company before coming to find me.” “Your understanding always breaks my heart. Good girl, don’t think about anyone else right now, just enjoy.” Sebastian kissed her lips, trailing downward… Pleasured moans escaped from Diana’s lips. “Sebastian, don’t…” I felt like I’d been plunged into ice water. I bit down hard on the back of my hand to stop myself from crying out. I thought my heart was already dead. But seeing it with my own eyes still shredded me. My stomach seized. I covered my mouth and ran to the bathroom, heaving until nothing was left. A dull ache spread through my belly. I pressed my hand to my stomach, tears blurring my vision. Baby, I’m sorry.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “392793”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

After seven years of marriage to Alpha Caius, he never marked me. During those seven years, he kept twenty-nine mistresses. Looking at the thirtieth young girl, Raven, wrapped in a bathrobe and lounging on our bed. I turned to look at him. “Isn’t playing around outside enough? You have to bring them home?” But Raven deliberately pulled her bathrobe lower. “Luna Alicia, Alpha Caius says you’re like a dead fish during sex! Let me teach you how to really please a man!” That night, I was forced to watch the intensity of their lovemaking. The next morning, Caius was furious at my indifference. But he forgot that our marriage was an agreement to begin with. One week until the agreement expires. “Alicia, go get Raven some clothes.” Caius sat bare-chested on the bed, lighting a cigarette as he ordered me around. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, as if narrating last night’s intensity. I stood still, glancing at him. Raven, wrapped in the sheets, smiled sweetly at me. “Alpha Caius, that’s not very appropriate. After all, she’s Luna Alicia.” She said “Luna Alicia” with her mouth, but her tone carried not a trace of guilt. Instead, it was full of pride and provocation. The sheets slipped down slightly with her movements, revealing skin covered in red marks. “Besides, I have a hot, sexy figure. Luna Alicia probably doesn’t have anything suitable for me!” I kept my expression blank and walked toward the door. “Alicia! I’m talking to you!” His voice came from behind me, tinged with displeasure. I paused but didn’t turn around. “If you want clothes, get them yourself. I have things to do.” In seven years, I’d rarely defied him. Whether his instructions were direct or implied, I’d almost never refused anything he asked me to do. Today was the first time I broke that understanding. “What did you say?” Caius clearly wasn’t used to my cold attitude, and anger crept into his voice. “You have things to do?! What could you possibly have to do? You stay home all day, don’t participate in pack affairs, don’t work!” “Alicia, don’t forget—if I hadn’t married you, where would you be now? You’d never have this status on your own!” He was right. Without marrying him, I wouldn’t be living such a wealthy, comfortable life. But he forgot that this kind of life wasn’t what I wanted. Back then, I had just graduated from the wolf academy with a degree in pup training. The director of the orphanage that raised me told me that because of land acquisition, the orphanage would soon be demolished. Without someone to sponsor it, those young wolf pups would be homeless. That’s when Caius appeared. He made me an offer—marry him, and he’d fund the orphanage. I hesitated. After all, we weren’t from the same world. He was the Alpha of Stormheart pack, and I was just an ordinary wolf, an orphan. He saw my hesitation and added in a tone that left no room for refusal. “Let’s add a time limit. Seven years. After seven years, you can leave freely and choose whatever you want. During these seven years of marriage, I won’t mark you.” After we married, I never expected any unnecessary emotions. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before I discovered that he’d chosen me only because I resembled his white moonlight—a wolf girl named Aisling. Aisling was Caius’s fated mate. She died shortly after they started dating, and since then, Caius had been searching for her replacement. Caius once said, “Out of all those women, you look the most like Aisling. That’s why I chose you.” Just then, Raven walked out of the dressing room wearing a white dress, her long, silky hair cascading down. I froze. In that moment, she looked exactly like Aisling. It seemed she’d heard the rumors and came prepared. Caius’s gaze immediately fixed on her. Perhaps because of that familiar shadow, he didn’t show his usual cold indifference. He actually froze for a moment before slowly speaking, his tone carrying a hint of seriousness. “Very nice. Dress like this from now on.” Raven’s smile became even more radiant. “Really? Then Alpha Caius, you’ll have to take me shopping for a few more dresses like this.” Caius nodded. “I’ll take you in a bit.” She smiled triumphantly, then turned her gaze to me, deliberately provoking me. “Luna Alicia should come too, right?” I understood. She just wanted to provoke me, to deliberately humiliate me. “No thanks. I have things to do.” But Caius suddenly frowned and spoke coldly. “You’re coming too. I don’t want to say it twice.” I knew this wasn’t the time to defy him again. I stopped arguing and agreed quietly. Just seven more days. This would all be over.

Caius rented out an entire high-end clothing store. Only the three of us remained inside. He stood beside Raven, his gaze constantly on her. In a gentle tone I’d never heard before, he said, “This one’s nice. Try it on.” Raven took the clothes with a coy smile and a slightly flirtatious tone. “How did you know I wear a 36E~” Then she lifted her eyes and glanced at me with deliberate provocation. The store clerk hurried over with flattery. “You’re so lucky to have such a thoughtful boyfriend rent out the whole store to shop with you. It’s really rare.” Caius had never publicly announced his marriage. In everyone’s eyes, he was still that playboy Alpha who frequently changed girlfriends. Even though I, his wife, was standing right there, Caius didn’t correct the clerk’s form of address, as if tacitly agreeing. Raven’s smile deepened, though she said modestly, “Not really.” Just then, the clerk turned to look at me. “And who are you, miss?” Caius seemed to only now remember my existence. “She came with us. Alicia, pick out a couple things for yourself too.” Before I could speak, the clerk exclaimed, “Alpha Caius is so generous, even treating the household staff so well!” After those words, the store fell silent. But I didn’t even furrow my brow. I just continued replying to unfinished emails on my phone. From the day we decided to marry, he wouldn’t let me participate in any pack affairs, saying I didn’t need to show my face in public. But I was used to being independent and never wanted to be completely dependent on anyone. So over the years, I’d never given up my pup training skills. I’d been uploading tutorials anonymously on wolf professional forums. I was doing well—so well that many packs reached out to me directly, wanting to hire me to help train their pups. But because of this seven-year agreement, I’d never accepted any pack’s offer, choosing to wait. Now, it was time. Before Caius could walk over to me, I quickly closed my phone. “I’ll take that one.” I casually pointed to an inconspicuous dress hanging nearby. “Then I’ll try that one too.” Raven grabbed the dress and walked toward my fitting room. I frowned slightly. “Use the one next door.” “Oh come on, it’s just trying on clothes!” She suddenly pushed me hard into the fitting room. I stumbled backward, and with a “crack,” my arm hit the mirror. Glass shattered everywhere. Hearing the noise, Caius rushed into the fitting room. Seeing the scene, his face immediately darkened. Raven was sitting on the floor, covering her hand and crying. “Is it because I can’t try on the same clothes as Luna Alicia? Luna Alicia, if you’re unhappy, I won’t wear it. Why did you have to push me?” As she spoke, she extended her hand, revealing a tiny scratch. Caius’s expression changed. He quickly crouched down, holding her hand, his face full of concern. “How did you get hurt this badly? Does it hurt?” Then he turned to look at me, his eyes full of anger. “Alicia, are you really this petty? Over a piece of clothing? Seriously?” I opened my mouth. “I didn’t. It wasn’t me…” “Still making excuses?” He cut me off directly, as if he couldn’t see that I was sitting in a pile of broken glass, both my arms covered in deep and shallow cuts from the glass, blood flowing freely. He scooped Raven up in his arms, softly comforting her. “Don’t be scared. I’ll take you to the hospital.” Raven leaned against him, crying pitifully. “Will it scar? How will I face people after this?” “It won’t. I’ll take you to see the best wolf doctor right away.” He coaxed her softly and left without looking back, leaving me alone in the mess.

I endured the pain and went to the private clinic I usually visited. The doctor was preparing to clean my wounds when Caius rushed in and pulled away my anesthesiologist. “Hurry, Raven’s in a lot of pain. Give her anesthesia right away!” “But this lady…” Caius seemed to only now notice me, frowning as he was about to speak. “It’s fine. You can go.” The doctor hesitated, but still followed him out. I turned to the assistant beside me. “Just pick out the glass shards directly.” The assistant froze. “But without anesthesia, it’ll be really painful. Can you handle it?” “It’s fine. Let’s start.” Throughout the entire process, I gritted my teeth and didn’t make a sound. By the end, even the assistant couldn’t help but remark, “You really can endure pain.” I said nothing. Yes, if I couldn’t endure, I would have broken down countless times over these years. After treating the wounds, I returned home. When I opened the door, the faint aroma of soup came from the kitchen. The maid heard the noise and turned around. Seeing me, she looked slightly awkward. “Luna Alicia, Alpha Caius told me to take this soup to Miss Raven after it’s done. Her hand is injured, so Alpha Caius wants me to stay there and take care of her for the next few days.” When her gaze swept over my bandage-wrapped arms, she hesitated. “Should I… save you a bowl too?” I smiled, though the smile didn’t reach my eyes. “No need.” Even a maid knew to show concern for me. But the Alpha who’d shared my bed for seven years couldn’t spare a single word of care. Just then, my phone vibrated. I opened it to see a formal job offer from Frosthowl pack, whom I’d interviewed with online—they were inviting me to work as a trainer at their pup training school. I replied to the email without hesitation, confirming my start date with them. Then I quickly opened the travel booking page and selected a departure date seven days from now. With no one home, it would make my departure easier. Although my hands weren’t fully functional yet, I quickly packed my luggage. After packing, I stood in the room and looked around. I’d lived here for seven years. It was impossible to say I had no regrets, but more than anything, I felt the lightness of liberation. I dialed his number one last time. When he answered, his voice was full of impatience. “Alicia, you still have the nerve to call?” “I’m telling you, if Raven has any lasting effects from this, you better watch out!” I opened my mouth, but realized there was nothing left to say. Wolves heal extremely quickly. Besides, Raven only had a tiny scratch—it might have already healed by now. How could there possibly be any lasting effects? But I knew saying any of this would be pointless. Caius simply couldn’t stand me. In the end, he didn’t wait for my answer and hung up directly. I stood there, slowly lowering my phone, a self-mocking smile curling at the corner of my lips. I pulled out the original marriage agreement and signed my name on the attached divorce agreement, placing it on the desk in the study. I left no note, no message. I trusted he would understand. As I left, I couldn’t help but feel grateful that he’d never marked me. Now that I was leaving, all I needed was divorce paperwork. Dragging my suitcase, I left the house and checked into a quiet little hotel. During those seven days at the hotel, I rested quietly. He didn’t send a single message or make a single call during that time. Seven days later, I sat in the airport waiting area, waiting to board. My phone suddenly rang. His name appeared on the screen. I glanced at it and turned off my phone without hesitation. The name on the screen disappeared in a flash, just like this marriage—completely over. Then I boarded the flight to my new life, without looking back.

After leaving the airport, I pushed my suitcase to the exit. An enthusiastic, handsome man was standing at the pickup area holding a sign, smiling brightly. “Alicia, I’m here to pick you up from Frosthowl pack. I’m Ethan, the principal of the pup training school.” He quickly took my suitcase, looking me over with slight curiosity. “I didn’t expect you to be so young! I thought experts in pup training would be, you know, older.” I smiled without explaining further. I also hadn’t expected the principal of the pup training school to be so young and energetic. At the parking lot, my phone finally got signal. As soon as I turned it on, it vibrated nonstop. I looked down to see it was all messages from Caius, nearly filling the screen. I didn’t open them. I calmly deleted them all with one tap. Ethan put the luggage in the trunk, turned back to glance at me, and asked with a smile, “Alicia, you’ve got a lot of calls. Do you want me to wait while you reply?” “No need. Nothing important.” I answered casually, my tone indifferent. In the car, he drove while making casual conversation. “Alicia, this is your first time at our Frosthowl pack, right? Is there anywhere you want to go? You don’t officially start work until the day after tomorrow. I can show you around first.” “Yes, first time.” I looked at the scenery passing by outside the window. My phone rang again. The ringtone was particularly jarring in the car. He glanced at me and said kindly, “Maybe you should answer? What if it really is urgent?” I thought for a moment, then answered the call. Sure enough, it was Caius. His voice came directly through the receiver, barely suppressing his anger. “Alicia! Where are you? What the hell are you doing? Why aren’t you answering your phone?!” He bombarded me with questions, his tone aggressive, as if I’d committed some terrible crime. Listening to his baseless anger, I smiled coldly and said calmly, “Caius, there’s no need for us to stay in contact anymore.” He was clearly stunned, then shouted even more angrily, “No need? Alicia, you’re my wife! Where are you now? Come back immediately!” I lowered my eyes and answered calmly, “The seven-year term is over. The agreement has ended. You never marked me. There’s no mate bond between us. I’m no longer your wife.” After saying this, I decisively hung up and blocked his number. Ethan seemed to sense the uncomfortable atmosphere. He turned and smiled, trying to ease the tension. “Alicia, you’re here to start a new life in a new territory. Don’t let these things affect your mood.” He winked. “I helped you choose your place to stay. We’ll be there soon. I’m sure you’ll love it.” I looked out the window. The clouds on the horizon were dyed golden by the sunset, and something inside me finally seemed to shed its burden. I nodded gently. “Okay. I’m looking forward to starting my new life too.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “392794”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

The hunt ended early, so I grabbed my prey and took a shortcut back to the cabin. Suddenly, muffled panting came from deep in the grass. I pushed aside the bushes. My husband Gideon was pressing his sister-in-law Sera against that old birch tree. Sera’s silk dress was half-pulled down, bunched at the pale roots of her thighs. She moaned and wrapped her legs tightly around his muscular waist. Gideon’s hands gripped her hips, the sounds coming from his throat low and hoarse. Nothing like the mild-mannered act he put on in front of me. I sneered and raised my wrist, recording the whole thing on my phone. With one click, I sent the package to Sera’s husband, Black Pack’s Alpha Killian. “Your brother who’s been faking impotence at home for three years is having a wild workout with your wife. Sent you the location.” “Honey, you’re really putting in effort with this outdoor workout.” I stepped out from behind the bushes, tossed the deer I’d just hunted onto a tree stump, my tone as light as if I were discussing what to have for dinner. The two people under the birch tree froze instantly. Gideon let go of Sera’s legs and stared at me like he’d seen a ghost, stuttering for ages without managing a complete sentence. My dear best friend Sera didn’t even have time to pull down her dress. She just collapsed in the pile of fallen leaves with her legs spread, fresh marks my husband had just sucked all over her skin below the collarbone. “Elara, how did you—” “Don’t rush.” I pulled out my phone and waved it. “Let me take a couple more shots. Three years of marriage, first time I’ve seen my husband with this much stamina. Worth commemorating.” Gideon suddenly snapped to his senses and lunged at me, trying to grab my phone. I sidestepped to the left. He missed and nearly tumbled into the bushes. I looked at him and sneered. As the only daughter of White Pack’s Alpha, I’d been receiving combat training since childhood. Dealing with trash like Gideon who only knew how to hide under his brother’s wing was more than easy. “Take it easy.” I held my phone up high. “You always told me you couldn’t perform, wouldn’t even change clothes in front of me. Three years, turns out you were saving yourself for my best friend.” Sera’s cheeks instantly flushed red. Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke with a sob in her voice: “Elara, let me explain. This was just an accident.” “Explain what?” I lowered my head and swiped open my phone screen, pulling up the video I’d just shot to the best part, then turned it to show her. In the footage, she was riding on Gideon’s waist, the sounds squeezing from her throat sluttier than a she-wolf in heat. “Explain how you ran to my husband in the middle of the night to practice squats?” Her face went completely white. She was Black Pack’s Luna, and also my best friend since childhood. I’d thought it was the most perfect arrangement—we married the two brothers of Black Pack, two packs with generations of good relations. Turns out she occupied the Luna position and still wanted to drag her brother-in-law to the northern slope grass to roll around. Two brothers, and she didn’t want to let either one go. “Elara!” Gideon roared. Birds in the forest scattered in fright. Someone else might not be able to withstand Gideon’s dominant pressure, but I’d been trained by my father since childhood. This level of intimidation couldn’t suppress me. I stared at him. “What are you yelling about? You dared to pin your sister-in-law against a tree, but I can’t stand here and watch?” Sera stumbled and crawled over from the pile of leaves, grabbing my legs. Tears splattered on my boots: “Elara, please, don’t tell Killian. I know I was wrong, I really know I was wrong.” I looked down at her, this best friend who’d been with me for twenty years. “Get up first.” I crouched down and patted her shoulder. “Your legs will go numb if you stay down too long.” She lifted her head, teardrops hanging from her eyelashes, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. I continued, “Look how hard you’re crying. My husband must feel so bad for you.” I stood up, shook off her hand, and turned to leave. Gideon grabbed my arm from behind, his knuckles digging into the crook of my elbow. “Where do you think you’re going? You want to expose this? You want to destroy the alliance between our two packs?” I looked back at him, almost laughing out loud. Now he remembered the alliance. When he was pulling his sister-in-law’s pants down, why didn’t he think of it then? “Already exposed.” His fingers tightened, his breathing suddenly heavy. “What do you mean?” I pried his hand off and turned to face him. “Your brother should be on his way by now. I just sent him the video, with live location tracking.” Gideon’s pupils contracted sharply. Those eyes that always carried a mild smile were now full of shock: “What did you say? You sent it to Killian?!” “Is there a problem?” I tilted my head at him. “As Alpha, he naturally has the right to know what’s happening in his Pack.” “You’re crazy!” “No.” I stepped back, landing precisely on a dead leaf that crunched softly. “I think you’re the ones who are finished.” A sound that didn’t belong to this hunting ground came from the distance. That deep, resonant howl tore through the silence of the northern slope night sky, carrying an Alpha’s unique oppression, rapidly approaching the cabin. Sera collapsed to the ground, her face deathly pale. When the massive brown-black wolf burst through the tree line, I was leaning against the hunter’s cabin doorpost drinking beer. Killian shifted to human form and walked toward me. He scanned the two people slumped by the grass without expression, then turned to me and said, “Nice video work. Good lighting and composition.”

“Bro…” Gideon’s calves were trembling as he shrank back. That fierce, vicious energy he’d had on top of Sera had completely disappeared. Killian ignored him and turned to look at me. “How much did you record?” I pulled out my phone and waved it. “From start to finish. Didn’t miss a single moment of the best parts.” Sera jerked her head up, eyes swollen, wanting to say something. Killian glanced at her. “Shut up and get dressed.” The half-sob caught in her throat choked back down. She frantically started putting on her clothes. I leaned against the pine tree, watching this scene with an inexplicable sense of relief. My husband and my best friend rolling around together—I should be the one suffering most, but here I was watching like it was a show, even wanting to munch on sunflower seeds. Once the two had barely gotten themselves together, Killian walked up to Gideon and punched him in the face. Gideon flew backward, the back of his head hitting the birch trunk. Killian grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up, driving his knee upward. Gideon clutched his lower abdomen and curled up like a shrimp, his lips white as paper. Faked impotence for three years—this time it might become real. I hadn’t expected Killian to only look refined. When he beat someone up, he was ruthlessly fierce. Once Gideon was flat on the ground, Killian straightened up and looked at Sera. “How long has this been going on?” No one dared answer. “I asked you how long this has been going on!” He suddenly roared. Sera cried and trembled. “Three years.” Three years. My marriage to Gideon had been exactly three years, give or take. From the day he married me, he never planned to treat me properly. All those excuses were lies. “So you two started before the wedding?” I spoke, my voice so soft it surprised even me. Gideon lay on the ground without making a sound. “Lift your head up!” Killian roared again. Gideon slowly propped up his upper body. Half his face was swollen, his eyes only daring to stare at the ground. “Bro—” “Don’t call me bro! I don’t have a beast for a brother. You had your wife grab medicine for you for three years, then turned around and rode my wife. You really live up to my expectations.” Sera stumbled to Killian’s feet, her knees hitting the gravel ground with a crunching sound: “Honey, I’m sorry, I really know I was wrong.” I leaned against the pine tree and added: “Do you know you were wrong, or are you afraid he’ll take back your Luna position?” She whipped her head around to look at me. I continued in a casual tone: “You two weren’t like this under the tree just now. She was riding on top of you, biting your ear telling you to hurry up. I’ve got it all on video. Want me to play it to set the mood?” Gideon glared at me viciously, his lips trembling for ages without managing a single word. “So Gideon isn’t impotent—he’s only impotent with me. Your wife touches him and all his problems disappear. She’s practically a miracle healer.” Killian was silent for a few seconds, the muscle beneath his cheekbone twitching twice. “Put on your shoes. Back to the main house. The Council of Elders convenes tonight.” Sera jerked her head up. “You’re going to—” “Divorce.” Killian turned and walked toward me. Sera grabbed Killian’s boot and was kicked away, her whole body falling into the ferns. I waited for him to approach, and we walked side by side toward the cabin. “This place reeks too much. I’ll come back for my deer tomorrow.”

The day after the drama ended, I was teaching my students when the back door of the classroom suddenly erupted in commotion. My hand writing on the blackboard paused. I nearly snapped the chalk. This plot development was getting pretty melodramatic. “Elara Voss! You shameless vixen, seducing my son-in-law, destroying my daughter’s family—have you no conscience!” Sera’s mother, the current head of the Hale family, the matriarch of an old-line werewolf family, stood at the classroom’s back door and began her performance, completely disregarding her own dignity. My teaching assistant rushed over: “Professor Elara, Sera’s mother says you seduced her daughter’s husband Mr. Killian. Should we call campus security?” I slowly put down the chalk. “Oh, let me go see.” As soon as I stepped outside the classroom, I saw a crowd surrounding Sera’s mother as she wiped tears and denounced my evil deeds. “Everyone judge for yourselves—Elara is jealous that my daughter married better than her, so she had to interfere and deliberately destroy my daughter’s family.” I leaned against the window, smiling as I watched this good show. Someone in the crowd spoke up. “Mrs. Hale, Professor Elara is here.” Sera’s mother turned around. Seeing my relaxed demeanor made her even angrier. “Good, you still dare show your face!” “Otherwise what?” I raised an eyebrow. “Should I hide like certain people who’ve done shameful things?” Sera’s mother’s face flushed red with anger. “Stop your nonsense. My daughter and son-in-law are fine. You’re the one destroying their family.” I gave a contemptuous smile. “Sera still loves lying to you? I thought she’d outgrown that childhood habit.” Sera’s mother froze. “What are you talking about?” “You don’t know? Your daughter Sera is Killian’s wife, but she wasn’t faithful during marriage. She seduced Gideon, Killian’s brother—also known as my husband.” The surrounding students all gasped. Sera’s mother’s expression shifted. “You’re talking nonsense!” I pulled out my phone. “Want to see the video? I recorded your daughter’s spectacular performance with my husband.” Sera’s mother panicked. “Don’t you dare!” I continued: “If you really care about your daughter, go home and tell her to control herself. The divorce papers have already been filed. What’s the point of making a scene here now?” Sera’s mother became frantic. “My daughter can’t get divorced!” I laughed. “What, can’t bear to lose Killian’s status? Or do you think Gideon the impotent one isn’t good enough? Don’t worry, Sera’s already cured Gideon’s impotence.” “You!” Sera’s mother pointed at my nose. “How can you be so vulgar!” After saying this, she stamped her feet in anger, but knowing she couldn’t gain anything here, she could only leave resentfully. The students all looked at me with admiration. My assistant came over. “Professor Elara, you were so cool!” I smiled. “Cool? This is nothing.” Back in my office, I sent Killian a message: Your Sera’s mom just made a scene at my school. Killian quickly replied: Need me to have someone handle it? Me: No need, I already dealt with it. Killian: Thanks for the trouble. Looking at my phone screen, I just felt that life really was full of surprises. Me: But I want Sera and Gideon, that pair of cheating scum, to pay the price.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “392795”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On our fifth anniversary, I dressed up for our date, thinking Ethan was going to propose to me. Instead, he showed up with his first love, Luna, and asked me to plan their entire engagement party. “You didn’t actually think that after warming my bed for a few years, you’d get to be a billionaire’s wife, did you?” He humiliated me in public, threatened me with my family’s livelihood, and even put the wedding dress I’d spent three years designing on Luna. In the villa we’d shared for five years, all my personal belongings were thrown out like garbage. He said my taste was cheap, that my feelings were shameful, that I was nothing more than a tool in a mutually beneficial arrangement. At the banquet, Luna spilled red wine all over me, and he publicly scolded me for being in the way. Not a single apology. From that moment on, I stopped defending myself, stopped resisting, and became completely obedient to him. Ethan thought I’d finally learned my place and become the compliant secretary again. He didn’t know I’d already gotten engaged to his mortal enemy.

Stella POV In the fifth year of keeping my relationship with Ethan Carter a secret, I thought I could finally be with him. At eight PM, the most upscale revolving restaurant in downtown New York was reserved entirely. I wore a carefully selected black velvet gown, sitting by the window, watching the dazzling neon lights through the floor-to-ceiling glass. In my purse was a copy of Ethan’s schedule. Three days ago, as his chief secretary, I’d accidentally seen a massive transaction from his private account. It was for a pink diamond ring worth ten million dollars. Five years of secret companionship. Five years of being on call. At the company, I was billionaire Ethan’s most capable right hand. In bed, I was his perfectly compatible lover. We weren’t public. Ethan said it was a critical period for the power transition at Carter Group, and he couldn’t have any weaknesses. I believed him and waited without complaint for five years. Today was the fifth anniversary of us being together. When the clock struck eight-thirty, the heavy wooden door of the private room finally opened. I looked up with hopeful anticipation, but the smile on my lips froze completely the moment I saw who entered. Ethan wore an impeccably tailored custom suit, his posture upright, his handsome face showing a gentle smile I’d never seen before. And on his arm was a woman in a white dress with an innocent, delicate aura. Luna Sullivan. Ethan’s first love, the girl he couldn’t forget, who’d been overseas for years. My breathing stopped abruptly, my mind going completely blank. I stared at their intertwined arms, feeling all the blood in my body flowing backward, my fingertips instantly ice-cold. “Ethan, is this the secretary you often mention?” Luna spoke first, her voice sweet and girlish, with a hint of innocent curiosity. Ethan walked to the table with Luna, looking down at me from his superior position, his tone casual like he was discussing the weather. “Yeah, she’s my chief secretary, Stella Forrester.” He didn’t even ask me to sit down, didn’t explain why he’d brought another woman on our fifth anniversary. I forced down the violent trembling in my heart, my voice dry and tight. “Ethan, today is our…” “Stella, you’ve always been reliable in your work, and your taste is good too.” Ethan cut me off without mercy. He pulled out a chair for Luna to sit, then turned to look at me, his eyes cold and matter-of-fact. “Luna just returned to New York and isn’t familiar with the local environment yet. Next month’s engagement party for her and me will be completely under your supervision. Don’t let Luna suffer even the slightest grievance.” Word by word, like ice-cold knives, stabbing precisely into my heart. Engagement party? I stared at Ethan’s familiar face, trying to find any trace of joking in his eyes. But there was nothing. His eyes only held affection for Luna and the emotionless professionalism he showed toward me, his “secretary.” “You’re getting engaged to her?” My voice trembled uncontrollably as I stood up abruptly, my eyes red. “Ethan, then what am I? What were these five years to us?” Hearing this, Luna seemed startled, shrinking back and looking innocently at Ethan. “Ethan, what’s wrong with Miss Forrester? You two…” Ethan’s expression instantly darkened. He glanced at me coldly, his lips curling into a mocking arc. “Stella, watch your identity. You didn’t actually think that after warming my bed for a few years, you’d get to be a billionaire’s wife, did you?”

Stella POV Those words were like a resounding slap across my face. All the strength seemed to drain from my body instantly, my face pale as paper. “Between us, it was nothing more than mutual benefit. You got a generous salary and bonuses, I got an obedient bed partner and a useful secretary.” Ethan’s tone was cruel to the extreme, carrying the arrogance of someone in power. “Now that Luna’s back, those shameful games should end.” So it turned out that five years of youth, five years of giving everything I had, were just “shameful games” in his eyes. That pink diamond wasn’t a proposal ring for me at all, but his sincerity in marrying his first love. Looking at this man I’d loved for five years, I suddenly felt he was completely unfamiliar. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain making it almost impossible to breathe, but I bit my lower lip hard, refusing to let the tears fall. “Fine. I understand.” I took a deep breath and grabbed my purse from the table, my spine straight. I didn’t scream or make a scene. I used every ounce of self-control I had to maintain my last shred of dignity. “Since the game is over, Mr. Carter, you’d better find someone else to handle the engagement party. I find it disgusting.” With that, I turned without hesitation and strode out of the restaurant in my heels. Behind me came Ethan’s voice, suppressing his fury. “Stella, try walking out that door!” I didn’t look back. The moment the door closed, I leaned against the cold wall, gasping for air, and tears finally broke through like a dam. Five years of wasted devotion, shattered to pieces in this moment. The next morning, Carter Group CEO’s office. I’d applied elaborate makeup to hide the dark circles under my eyes. Like always, I arrived at the company half an hour early and placed a cup of perfectly heated black coffee on Ethan’s desk. Except this time, there was a white envelope beside the coffee. When Ethan entered the office, he still had that superior, aloof demeanor. He glanced at the envelope on the desk, his brow furrowing slightly. “What’s this?” “My resignation letter.” I stood in front of the desk, my voice so calm it had no inflection. “Mr. Carter, since you’re about to get engaged, to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings, I should avoid suspicion. I’ll complete the work handover within a week.” Ethan’s movements stopped abruptly. He picked up the resignation letter, his eyes instantly darkening. “Stella, you’ve grown bold, haven’t you?” He laughed coldly, his slender fingers tearing the envelope in half and tossing it in the trash. “Trying to play mind games with your resignation? That trick is too old.” “I’m serious.” I looked at him, my eyes no longer holding any of the adoration and compliance from before, only a deathly stillness. He impatiently loosened his tie, his tone forceful. “I haven’t approved it, so you’re still a Carter Group employee. Put away your ridiculous tantrums. I don’t have time to indulge you. This afternoon, cancel all meetings and accompany Luna to try on wedding dresses.” I clenched my fists tightly, my nails digging into my palms. “Mr. Carter, accompanying your fiancée to try on wedding dresses isn’t within my job responsibilities.” “At Carter Group, my word is your responsibility.” Ethan stood up, closing in step by step, his eyes full of oppression. “Stella, don’t forget your brother is still at an Ivy League school, and your mother’s care facility costs a significant amount every month. Angering me won’t benefit you in any way.” He was threatening me with my family. My whole body went cold as I looked at this man in disbelief. After sharing a bed for five years, he knew my weaknesses better than anyone. And now he was mercilessly pointing the blade at my most vulnerable spots. “Fine. I’ll go.” I closed my eyes and swallowed the bloody taste in my throat.

Stella POV That afternoon, at New York’s most exclusive private bridal boutique. Luna was like a proud swan, selecting wedding dresses surrounded by staff. I stood expressionlessly to the side like a soulless puppet. “Miss Forrester, what do you think of this one?” Luna suddenly turned around, pointing to a gown in the center display case. I followed her finger and my pupils contracted sharply. It was a strapless gown with a starry gradient pattern, the skirt encrusted with tens of thousands of tiny South African diamonds. I had drawn the design for this wedding dress three years ago with my own hands. At the time, I’d shown it to Ethan with such joy, asking if I could wear it when we got married. What did Ethan say then? He said, “It’s beautiful. I’ll definitely have it made in the future and put it on you myself.” Now the dress was made, but the person wearing it wasn’t me. “Very beautiful.” I heard my mechanical voice. Luna smiled with satisfaction and turned to enter the fitting room. Soon after, Ethan pushed the door open. He walked straight to the sofa and sat down, not giving me a single extra glance. The curtain of the fitting room opened, and Luna walked out in that starry wedding dress, like a fairy descended to earth. She held up her skirt and walked shyly to Ethan. “Ethan, does it look good?” A flash of amazement crossed Ethan’s eyes. He stood up and gently adjusted her veil, his voice so tender it could drip water. “Beautiful. This dress looks like it was custom-made for you.” Luna leaned shyly into his embrace, but her eyes glanced provocatively at me. “I heard this dress was designed by some unknown designer. I was worried it wouldn’t be worthy of a billionaire’s status.” Ethan laughed lightly, his tone full of disdain. “Who cares who designed it? As long as you like it. Wearing it on you elevates that designer’s cheap taste.” Cheap taste. Those words were like a dull knife, slowly cutting back and forth across my heart. I watched the embracing couple and suddenly felt it was all absurd. The promise I’d treasured was just a casual lie to him. The design I’d poured all my love into had become cheap garbage in his mouth. I didn’t refute or cry. I just stood quietly in the corner, watching Ethan lower his head to kiss Luna’s forehead. In that moment, I clearly heard the sound of my heart dying. No heart-wrenching cries of pain, only a barren silence. On the weekend, I went to Ethan’s private villa in Long Island, New York. This was where we’d lived together for five years. Although Ethan never allowed me to leave too many personal items, five years of accumulation meant there were still traces of me everywhere. Since I’d decided to leave, I didn’t want to leave anything behind to disgust myself. I entered the password and pushed open the door, only to be frozen by the scene before me. The living room was in chaos. Several servants were holding large black garbage bags, tossing things in one by one. The matching coffee mugs I’d bought. The cushions I’d embroidered with our initials. My bunny slippers by the entrance. Even my luxury skincare products from the bathroom. Everything was being thrown away like trash. “What are you doing?” I demanded sharply. The servants stopped and looked at each other. Then someone came down the stairs from the second floor. Ethan wore gray loungewear, looking at me coldly. “I had them clean up. Luna’s moving in next week. She has a cleanliness obsession and can’t stand the smell of other women.” I looked at the coffee mug shattered in the trash. We’d made it together during a pottery class on a business trip to Paris. Though he’d looked impatient, he still stayed with me until we finished. Now it was broken into pieces on the ground.

Stella POV “Ethan, even if you want to make room for Luna, these are my personal belongings. What right do you have to throw them away like garbage without my permission?” I trembled with anger. Ethan walked down the stairs, looking down at me with contempt. “Your things? Stella, name one thing you have that I didn’t buy? Keeping all this cheap junk around. Do you want Luna to have to look at it and be bothered?” He walked to the garbage bag and kicked the clothes inside with his toe, his tone mocking. “Since you’re here today, take this garbage with you yourself. Don’t dirty my carpet.” I stared at him, my eyes so sore they hurt, but I held it in desperately. I walked to the garbage bag. I didn’t pick up those expensive clothes and jewelry. Instead, I bent down and dug through the pile of items to find a wooden music box. It was a trinket he’d casually tossed to me five years ago when I first became his secretary. But I’d treasured it like a precious object for five years. Seeing the music box, Ethan’s brow furrowed imperceptibly, but he quickly returned to cold indifference. “Just taking that?” He laughed coldly. “Stella, you really are pathetically poor.” I held the music box and slowly stood up. I looked at Ethan, my eyes as calm as if looking at a stranger. “Ethan, these five years, I’ve done right by every cent you paid me, and done right by every bit of sincerity I gave.” My voice was soft but abnormally clear. “You treated my sincerity like garbage. That’s fine. Because from today on, in my eyes, you’re worth less than garbage.” With that, right in front of Ethan, I used both hands to smash that music box hard against the marble floor. With a crisp crack, the wooden box shattered into pieces, the spring inside popped out, making a few off-key wails before going completely silent. Ethan’s face instantly turned iron-blue, the veins on his forehead throbbing visibly. “Stella, what the hell are you doing!” I ignored his rage. I pulled out the spare key that symbolized the villa’s mistress status from my bag and casually tossed it onto that pile of garbage. “Here’s your key. I wish you and Miss Sullivan eternal happiness.” I turned around and walked out of the villa without looking back. It had started pouring rain outside. I didn’t carry an umbrella, letting the cold rainwater soak me through. Rainwater slid down my cheeks. Impossible to tell if it was tears or rain. I didn’t feel sad, only an unprecedented sense of relief. The shackles of five years were finally broken by my own hands in this moment. Carter Group’s 60th anniversary gala. As chief secretary, I was still forcibly kept in this position by Ethan, responsible for coordinating the entire event. I wore a low-key black business suit, weaving through the well-dressed guests, calm, efficient, and flawless. When Ethan entered with Luna on his arm, it caused a sensation throughout the venue. Luna wore a modified evening gown version of that starry wedding dress, adorned with that ten-million-dollar pink diamond, already carrying herself like the future mistress of the Carter family. “Thank you all for coming tonight.” Ethan stood on stage, gazing tenderly at Luna beside him. “I’d also like to take this opportunity to announce some good news. Next month, I will officially get engaged to Miss Luna.” Thunderous applause erupted below. I stood in a dark corner of the ballroom, walkie-talkie in hand, expressionlessly watching that dazzling couple on stage.

Stella POV After announcing the good news, Luna smiled and walked toward the crystal piano in the center of the hall. “Today is a special day. I’d like to play a piece dedicated to my fiancé.” The piano music began. My fingertips dug sharply into my palm, nails breaking the skin. This piece was one I’d taught Ethan hand-by-hand three years ago on his birthday. Back then, Ethan had held my hand and said he’d only play this piece for me in the future. Now, the same melody had become Luna’s tool to declare her claim to the world. When the piece ended, applause thundered through the hall. Luna walked toward Ethan amidst the crowd’s praise. As she passed by me, she suddenly stumbled, and the wine glass in her hand tilted directly, the crimson liquid instantly spilling all over me. “Ah! I’m so sorry, Miss Forrester! I didn’t mean to!” Luna cried out, her face full of panic as she apologized, her eyes instantly reddening as if she were the one wronged. Ethan immediately strode over, pulling Luna protectively into his arms, nervously looking her up and down. “Luna, did you twist your ankle? Are you hurt anywhere?” From start to finish, he didn’t spare a single glance at me, drenched in wine and utterly disheveled. “I’m fine, but Miss Forrester’s clothes…” Luna bit her lip aggrievedly, her eyes secretly glancing at me. Only then did Ethan turn to look at me. His gaze was cold and disgusted, as if looking at a troublemaker deliberately causing problems. “Stella, are you blind? What are you doing standing here in the way?” Ethan scolded harshly, his voice loud enough that surrounding guests all looked over. I looked down at my white shirt stained red. This shirt was bought for me by my mother with her first month’s retirement pension. I’d been too reluctant to wear it and only put it on specially for tonight’s gala. Now it was completely ruined. “Luna bumped into me.” I raised my head, looking directly into Ethan’s eyes, my voice unflinching. “You dare talk back?” Ethan’s eyes grew even darker. “Luna is so kind, how could she deliberately bump into you? You’ve ruined her mood. Can you afford to compensate? Hurry up and get to the restroom to change. Stop being an eyesore here!” Mocking whispers came from the surrounding guests. “How can this secretary have no manners at all, daring to bump into the future lady boss?” “I heard she used to be pretty arrogant based on Mr. Carter’s trust. Now that the real deal is back, she’s got to take the heat, right?” Every sentence was like a resounding slap across my face. I watched Ethan carefully protect Luna as they walked away, and suddenly felt it was absurd. I once thought that if I worked hard enough, was sincere enough, one day I could stand shoulder to shoulder with him. But now I understood that in front of his first love, nothing I did was right. Even breathing was wrong. I turned and walked toward the restroom. Standing in front of the mirror, looking at that woman covered in wine stains with a pale face, I didn’t shed a single tear. When the heart is already dead, it can’t feel pain anymore. I turned on the faucet, cold water washing over my hands as I slowly cleaned the wine stains from my skin. When the heart is dead, there’s no more pain.

Stella POV After the gala ended, I didn’t return to my own apartment but went back to my parents’ home. In the old apartment complex in the suburbs, there was a comforting atmosphere of everyday life. When my parents saw me return late at night, though surprised, they immediately went to the kitchen to heat up food. “Stella, no matter how busy work is, you need to take care of your health. Look how thin you’ve gotten lately.” Mom lovingly brought me a steak. I ate with my head down, my eyes welling up. After enduring all that coldness and humiliation at Ethan’s, only here with my parents was I a treasured child. After dinner, Dad hesitated before speaking. “Stella, we’ve been discussing something. My friend settled in Vancouver and says the environment there is perfect for retirement. Your mother and I have worked hard our whole lives and want to go out and see the world. We’re thinking of settling in Vancouver.” I froze. My parents had mentioned wanting to retire overseas before, but I’d found various excuses to delay because I couldn’t bear to leave Ethan. My parents, feeling sorry for me, had shelved the plan. “Stella, we know you’re busy with work and developing well here. We’re not forcing you to come with us, we just wanted your opinion.” Mom held my hand, her eyes full of love. Looking at my parents’ graying temples, my heart ached sharply. For a man who didn’t love me, I’d wasted five years of my youth and even neglected the parents who loved me most. What exactly was I holding onto? “Dad, Mom.” I gripped Mom’s hand back, raising my head with unprecedented determination in my eyes. “I’ll go with you. The sooner the better.” Dad and Mom looked at each other, both seeing delight in the other’s eyes. “Good, good! Then I’ll contact the agency tomorrow to process the passport. Our whole family will go together!” Over the next few days, I began secret preparations. I contacted headhunters, handled my assets, and cooperated with my parents in processing overseas visas and moving arrangements. At the company, I remained that perfect chief secretary. I no longer argued with Ethan, no longer reacted to Luna’s provocations. Like a precision machine, I efficiently handled all work, including the procedures for Ethan and Luna’s engagement party. Ethan keenly noticed the change in me. I’d become too compliant. No matter how he mocked and ridiculed, no matter how Luna ordered me around, I accepted everything without even frowning. This compliance didn’t satisfy Ethan. Instead, it stirred an inexplicable irritation in his heart. “For the engagement party favors, Luna wants macarons flown in. Go arrange it.” Ethan threw a document in front of me, his gaze fixed on my face, trying to find any trace of jealousy or pain. “Yes, Mr. Carter. I’ll contact the supplier immediately.” My tone was emotionlessly professional, even thoughtfully adding, “Luna is allergic to nuts. I’ll specifically instruct the supplier to avoid nut ingredients.” Ethan looked at my completely calm eyes, feeling like his punch had landed on cotton. Suffocatingly frustrating. “Stella, you’ve finally learned your place.” Ethan snorted coldly, trying to hurt me with words. I smiled slightly. A flawless, impeccable smile. “Mr. Carter taught me well. As a secretary, solving my boss’s problems is my duty.” Ethan stared at me intently. After a long moment, he waved his hand irritably. “Get out.” I turned to leave. The moment I closed the office door, the smile dropped from my face. Only icy coldness remained. Lean my place? Yes, I knew my place. And I was ready to flip the whole game over.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “392796”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I spent three months grinding away at a ten-billion-dollar acquisition deal, and finally succeeded. At the celebration banquet, Ethan Pierce took all my credit and handed it to his first love, Lily Hayes. He said, “Lily just came back from overseas. She needs an impressive resume. You’ve always been understanding—it’s most appropriate to put this project under her name.” I looked at his matter-of-fact expression and said nothing. Five years. For five years, I’d worked myself to the bone for him during the day and warmed his bed at night, only to end up not even worthy of having my name attached to my work. At the charity gala, Lily Hayes accused me of stealing a brooch. In front of all the city’s elite, Ethan Pierce stripped me of my clothes and searched me. My belongings scattered across the floor, proving my innocence. He didn’t even apologize. He just frowned and said, “Alright, the misunderstanding’s cleared up. Don’t ruin the atmosphere of the gala.” I bent down. What I picked up wasn’t the contents of my bag, but the Pierce Corporation employee badge lying on the floor. Then, in front of everyone, I threw it into the champagne tower. “Ethan, from today on, even if you get down on your knees and beg me, I’m never coming back.”

Sophia Bennett POV The celebration banquet for the Empire Group acquisition was held at the city’s most luxurious hotel. Crystal chandeliers sparkled brilliantly overhead, while elegantly dressed guests mingled with champagne glasses in hand. I wore a well-tailored black business suit, holding a glass of champagne, standing quietly in a corner of the banquet hall. As Chief Investment Analyst at Pierce Corporation, this three-hundred-billion-dollar acquisition had taken me and my team three entire months of grinding work, countless cups of espresso, and even a trip to the emergency room for gastric bleeding before we finally closed the deal. I glanced down at the simple band on my ring finger—something Ethan Pierce had casually bought for me last month. I thought that tonight, at this celebration banquet, he would finally publicly acknowledge our five-year underground relationship. As the grand doors swung open, the banquet hall fell instantly silent. Ethan Pierce entered in a custom-tailored black suit, his posture impeccable, his features sharp and cold. However, on his arm hung a woman in a pure white haute couture gown, her smile gentle and delicate. Lily Hayes. Ethan Pierce’s first love—the woman he’d pined for, who had spent years overseas. My breathing hitched sharply, my knuckles turning white as I gripped my champagne flute. Ethan Pierce walked onto the stage with Lily Hayes, took the microphone, and his deep, pleasant voice echoed throughout the hall: “Thank you all for attending. I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce Pierce Corporation’s new Vice President of Investment, Miss Lily Hayes. The successful landing of the Empire acquisition was entirely thanks to Miss Hayes and her overseas connections.” Thunderous applause filled the room. I stood in the shadows, feeling as though all the blood in my body had reversed course, leaving even my fingertips numb with cold. Entirely thanks to Lily Hayes? In these three months, Lily Hayes hadn’t looked at a single punctuation mark of the acquisition documents. And all my sleepless nights, my effort, my dedication—just like that, in Ethan Pierce’s offhand remark, became nothing more than a stepping stone to make his beauty smile. Halfway through the banquet, I cornered Ethan Pierce on the deserted terrace. “Why?” My voice was soft, but it trembled with suppressed emotion. Ethan Pierce lit a cigarette, the blue-white smoke blurring his hard features. He looked at me, his eyes calm to the point of cruelty: “Lily just returned to the country. To establish herself at Pierce Corporation, she needs an impressive resume. You’ve always been understanding. Putting this project under her name is the most appropriate solution.” “Understanding?” I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting blood. “Ethan, I’ve worked myself to death for you for five years, been your underground lover for five years, and now… you’re taking the results I achieved with my life and using them to curry favor with her?” Ethan Pierce frowned slightly, seemingly displeased by my questioning. “Sophia Bennett, don’t be unreasonable.” He flicked his cigarette ash, his tone rational and cold. “Whatever compensation you want—bonuses, stock options, or that penthouse downtown—I can give it to you. But Lily is different. She’s sensitive and can’t handle being wronged. You’ve already gained enough from your position. Don’t be greedy.” Greedy. That word was like a rusty, dull knife sawing through my heart. Eight years of secret admiration, five years as his girlfriend—I thought even if I were a stone, I could eventually warm him up. But it turned out that in his eyes, I was just a tool to be sacrificed at will, a subordinate who could be bought off with money. “I understand.” I didn’t cry. I just pulled at the corner of my mouth as the light in my heart slowly extinguished. “I’m sorry. Mr. Pierce is right. I overstepped.” I turned and left the terrace, my spine straight, without a trace of lingering attachment.

Sophia Bennett POV Late at night, I returned to the penthouse apartment I shared with Ethan Pierce. The location was prime, the property worth a fortune, yet it was as cold and empty as a showroom. Over these five years, I’d tried so hard to fill it with life—buying flowers, adding soft rugs, changing to warm-toned curtains. But looking at it now, it all seemed ridiculously futile. I pulled out a suitcase and began packing my things. Actually, I didn’t own much—just a few changes of business attire and some professional books. At two in the morning, the sound of the password lock opening came from the entrance. Ethan Pierce walked in carrying the faint scent of alcohol and Lily Hayes’s floral perfume. He loosened his tie and saw the suitcase in the living room, his brow furrowing. “What are you throwing a tantrum about now?” He approached, habitually reaching out to hold me. “I already explained what happened tonight. Tomorrow, finance will transfer fifty million into your account. Sophia, don’t make me think you’re being unreasonable.” I sidestepped his touch. “I’m not throwing a tantrum.” I looked at him calmly. “Mr. Pierce, since Miss Hayes is back, it’s inappropriate for me to continue living here.” Ethan Pierce’s hand froze in midair. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms, lowering his head to kiss me. “Let go!” My stomach churned violently. I pushed him away with force. Ethan Pierce stumbled back a step, his expression darkening completely. “Sophia Bennett, my patience has limits.” He looked at me coldly. “The position of Mrs. Pierce can only belong to Lily, but I never said I was kicking you out. As long as you behave yourself, you’ll still be Pierce Corporation’s Chief Analyst, and you can still stay by my side.” I looked at this devastatingly handsome man before me and suddenly felt he was utterly unfamiliar. How could he speak such shameless words so matter-of-factly? He wanted Lily Hayes as his legitimate wife and me as his hidden mistress. “Ethan, you’re disgusting.” Leaving those words behind, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of the apartment without looking back. The next morning, at Pierce Corporation’s Investment Department. I had just stepped out of the elevator when I saw that my formerly spacious and bright private office had been fitted with a new nameplate: “Vice President – Lily Hayes.” Lily Hayes was directing staff to move my files out. When she saw me, she gave me an apologetic smile: “Sophia, Ethan said I needed a quiet environment to familiarize myself with the business, so he’s letting me use this office first. I hope you don’t mind squeezing into the open office area for now. You understand, right?” Colleagues around us were stealing glances. I looked at my personal belongings being carelessly piled into a cubicle and said lightly: “I don’t mind. As long as Vice President Hayes is happy.” I walked to that cramped cubicle, sat down, opened my computer, logged into the company’s HR system, and clicked on the “Resignation Application” page. On the third day after Lily Hayes’s airborne appointment as Vice President, Pierce Corporation held an important board meeting. The core topic was a risk assessment for an overseas new energy project. This project involved five billion dollars in funding—one misstep could severely damage Pierce Corporation.

Sophia Bennett POV The atmosphere in the conference room was tense. Lily Hayes stood in front of the projection screen, holding the assessment report my team had stayed up all night preparing, but her presentation was stumbling and incoherent. “Regarding this project’s internal rate of return, we estimate it to be… uh, we estimate eight percent. And the cash flow break-even period would require… require fifteen years.” The moment those words left her mouth, the room erupted. Several senior directors’ faces turned ashen. One director slammed his hand on the table: “Fifteen years to break even? Eight percent return? Miss Hayes, do you even know what the current cost of capital is? You’re actually recommending this garbage project to the board as a priority investment?!” Lily Hayes’s eyes reddened from being yelled at, and she looked pleadingly toward Ethan Pierce, who sat at the head of the table. Ethan Pierce frowned deeply, about to speak up to save her, when I suddenly stood up. Without looking at Ethan Pierce, I walked straight to Lily Hayes, took the laser pointer from her hand, and switched to a different PPT slide. “Directors, Miss Hayes just read the wrong data set.” I said, “Eight percent is the stress test result under an extremely pessimistic model. In reality, based on our calculations of local policy subsidies and carbon credit trading, the baseline IRR is above twenty-two percent, with a cash flow break-even period of four years and seven months. The detailed sensitivity analysis is on page thirty-two of the report.” In just three minutes, with extremely precise data and rigorous logic, I defused what could have been a catastrophic trust crisis. The directors’ expressions softened, and they looked at me with admiration. Lily Hayes, standing beside me, had turned pale. After the meeting ended, I was summoned to the CEO’s office. The moment I pushed open the door, a file folder came flying at me. I didn’t dodge. The sharp plastic edge grazed my temple, instantly drawing blood. “Sophia Bennett, you really showed off in that conference room today, didn’t you? Are you proud of yourself?” Ethan Pierce sat in his chair, his eyes frighteningly dark. Lily Hayes sat on the sofa, crying softly. Feeling the stinging pain on my forehead, my heart remained utterly calm: “I was only trying to save the company’s project.” “Save it?” Ethan Pierce laughed coldly, suddenly standing and walking up to me, looking down at me from above. “You knew perfectly well that Lily wasn’t familiar with those numbers. Why didn’t you go over them with her before the meeting? You deliberately embarrassed her in front of the board, deliberately used your expertise to highlight her incompetence. Sophia Bennett, when did your heart become so vicious?” I looked at him steadily and laughed. I’d stayed up for three nights straight preparing that report. Lily Hayes hadn’t even bothered to glance at it before taking it to claim credit. When she made mistakes, I stepped in to fix them and saved Pierce Corporation’s reputation. But in the end, I became the vicious one. “Yes, I’m vicious.” I closed my eyes. “Mr. Pierce is absolutely right. Every mistake is my fault. I apologize to Miss Hayes.” I turned toward Lily Hayes on the sofa and gave her a slight bow, my voice dead: “I’m sorry, Miss Hayes. It’s my fault for not covering up your incompetence well enough and letting you be wronged.” “Sophia Bennett! Get out of my sight!” Ethan Pierce’s furious voice rang out behind me. I straightened my spine and walked out of the office. My heart had completely died.

Sophia Bennett POV Friday was my twenty-eighth birthday. For the past four years, no matter how busy Ethan Pierce was, he would cancel all his engagements on this day and have dinner with me at a discreet restaurant. This was our unspoken secret, the only warmth I could draw from this hidden relationship. Last month, Ethan Pierce had kissed my earlobe and promised he would give me a huge surprise for this year’s birthday. At seven o’clock that evening, I arrived punctually at the restaurant and sat by the window. Outside, autumn rain began to fall, and the temperature dropped sharply. I wore a thin dress, looking at the exquisite cake on the table, quietly waiting. Eight o’clock. Nine o’clock. Ten o’clock. The restaurant’s clientele changed wave after wave. The servers’ glances toward me gradually shifted from admiration to pity. Eleven-thirty. I picked up my phone and dialed Ethan Pierce’s number. The phone rang for a long time before someone answered, but it wasn’t Ethan Pierce’s deep voice—it was Lily Hayes’s sweet, delicate tone. “Hello? Sophia? Ethan can’t come to the phone right now.” My fingers tightened around my phone: “Where is he?” “We’re at the vet hospital.” Lily Hayes’s voice carried a hint of sweet complaint. “My Ragdoll cat suddenly got diarrhea. I was terrified, so Ethan immediately drove me here. He was running around holding the cat and got all sweaty—he left his phone in the car. Sophia, it’s so late. Is there some urgent work matter?” A cat with diarrhea. I looked at the cold rain outside the window and suddenly found it all absurd. My birthday that I’d looked forward to with such anticipation, my five years of youth—in Ethan Pierce’s eyes, they couldn’t even compare to Lily Hayes’s cat having diarrhea. “Nothing urgent.” I said, “Sorry to bother you.” I hung up, picked up my fork, and shoved a large piece of cake into my mouth. Too sweet. Sweet to the point of bitterness, so bitter my tears fell without warning. I didn’t wipe them away. I just kept eating that cake, one bite after another. After paying the bill, I walked out of the restaurant and into the cold, rainy night. Back at my temporary rental apartment, I opened my laptop and logged into Pierce Corporation’s HR system. I looked at the resignation application I’d already drafted, my cursor hovering over the “Submit” button. My phone screen lit up with a message from Ethan Pierce: 【Lily’s cat got sick. I won’t come over tonight. I’ll make up for your gift tomorrow.】 I looked at that message without replying. I opened my photo album and, without a moment’s hesitation, permanently deleted all five thousand-plus photos and videos of Ethan Pierce. Then I moved my cursor and pressed “Submit.” The system displayed: 【Your resignation application has been submitted. Thirty-day handover countdown begins.】 Eight years of foolish infatuation, five years of absurd devotion—in this moment, it all finally came to an end. After submitting my resignation application, it required approval from both the department head and the CEO according to protocol. But Ethan Pierce had recently devoted all his attention to Lily Hayes and hadn’t logged into the office system at all. The HR director sighed and simply approved it by default. The thirty-day countdown began quietly. Lily Hayes decided to host an extremely lavish charity gala in Pierce Corporation’s name. “Sophia, Ethan says you’re the most detail-oriented. I’m putting you in charge of coordinating this gala.” Lily Hayes tossed a thick planning document onto my cramped desk, her tone carrying a condescending sense of charity. “I want white roses flown in from overseas. The lighting at the gala must be warm-toned. Also, you need to personally review all the media releases—they must highlight my image as Pierce Corporation’s future mistress.” I looked at the planning document without even lifting my eyelids. “Alright.” I responded flatly. Over the next two weeks, I executed all of Lily Hayes’s unreasonable demands. I slept only three hours a night, coordinating venues, confirming procedures, verifying guest lists. I never initiated contact with Ethan Pierce again, nor did I show even a trace of grievance over Lily Hayes’s deliberate difficulties. Occasionally, when Ethan Pierce ran into me in the company hallways, he would see my gaunt face and cold eyes. The day before the gala, I compiled all my work handover documents, encrypted them, and sent them to my deputy in the investment department. I looked at the countdown calendar on my computer screen. Tomorrow would be my last day at Pierce Corporation.

Sophia Bennett POV The charity gala was held at the city’s largest estate. As night fell, luxury cars gathered. Lily Hayes wore the custom-made gown Ethan Pierce had spent a fortune on for her, her arm linked with his as she moved among the guests like a star surrounded by admirers. I wore an inconspicuous black business suit with a walkie-talkie earpiece, standing in the shadows at the edge of the banquet hall, coldly watching it all. As the gala reached its climax and the most important charity auction was about to begin, a scream suddenly came from backstage. Lily Hayes, holding up her dress, ran out of the lounge with a pale face and red-rimmed eyes, throwing herself into Ethan Pierce’s arms: “Ethan! It’s gone! The ‘Heart of the Ocean’ sapphire brooch that was supposed to be the finale auction piece is missing!” The entire venue erupted in shock. That brooch was worth nearly a hundred million dollars—Ethan Pierce had specifically acquired it to bolster Lily Hayes’s standing. “What happened?” Ethan Pierce held her, his brow furrowed. Lily Hayes trembled all over, then suddenly turned and pointed directly at me standing in the corner: “It’s her! Only Lily and Sophia knew the safe’s password! When I was changing clothes earlier, only she went into the lounge!” All eyes instantly turned to me like spotlights. Skeptical, contemptuous, eager gazes. I removed my earpiece and walked calmly into the center of the crowd. I looked at Lily Hayes’s face: “I entered the lounge to deliver tonight’s speaking notes to you. I put them down and left. I never touched the safe.” “Who else could it be but you?!” Lily Hayes cried, tears streaming down her face. “Sophia, I know you’ve always resented me, thinking I took your position, but you can’t jeopardize the company’s reputation like this!” The surrounding guests began whispering among themselves. I ignored the gossip and simply looked quietly at Ethan Pierce. Eight years. I’d known him for eight years, managed over ten billion dollars for him, and never made a single error. Yet Ethan Pierce looked at me with eyes that held no trust—only coldness and impatience. “Sophia, open your bag and let security search it.” Ethan Pierce said coldly. “If you didn’t take it, a search will prove your innocence. Don’t make things difficult for Lily.” “Search my bag?” I softly repeated those words, feeling the last trace of warmth in my chest being drained away. In this circle, being publicly searched was tantamount to having my dignity stripped away and trampled on the ground. To calm Lily Hayes’s tears, Ethan Pierce chose without hesitation to sacrifice my dignity. “Ethan, are you really going to search my bag?” I looked at him. Ethan Pierce hesitated for a moment, but seeing Lily Hayes in his arms, he frowned: “It’s just a formality. Sophia, think of the bigger picture.” Think of the bigger picture. I laughed. I didn’t wait for security to approach. I opened the zipper of my cheap black canvas bag myself and dumped everything inside onto the polished marble floor. Lipstick, a notebook, several pens, a box of stomach medicine, and a few access cards. Scattered everywhere. No sapphire brooch. Just then, a security guard ran out of the lounge, sweating profusely, holding up the brilliant brooch: “Found it! Miss Hayes, the brooch fell into the velvet gap behind the safe. It wasn’t stolen!” The banquet hall fell into deathly silence. Lily Hayes froze for a moment, then covered her mouth with a regretful and innocent expression: “Oh my, so it fell into the gap. Sophia, I’m so sorry. I was too anxious just now and spoke without thinking. Please don’t be angry with me.” Ethan Pierce also breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at the mess on the floor, frowned, and said to me: “Alright, since it was a misunderstanding, that’s resolved. Sophia, pick up your things. Don’t let this affect the gala’s atmosphere.” Casual and dismissive, as though the trampling of my dignity moments ago had been nothing more than an insignificant joke. I looked down at those things on the floor. I didn’t pick them up. I slowly bent down, unclipped the Pierce Corporation employee badge from around my neck, and gently tossed it onto that pile of belongings. “I’m not picking them up.” I straightened, my gaze calmly sweeping past Lily Hayes before finally landing on Ethan Pierce’s shocked face. “Ethan, I quit.” With that, I turned and, under everyone’s stunned gazes, walked step by step out of the brilliantly lit banquet hall without looking back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “392797”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

While scrolling through Twitter late one night, I stumbled across a girl’s post gushing about her sweet love story with her boyfriend. But as I read it, something felt terribly wrong. The guy she was describing in the post… why did he sound exactly like my boyfriend?! 01 Late at night, while scrolling through a popular relationship confession account on Twitter, I saw a girl’s submission about her romance. The post was dripping with sickeningly sweet details. She bragged about how her boyfriend, despite being broke, was incredibly considerate. He would rub her stomach when she had cramps, remember every single anniversary and holiday, and constantly cook different meals for her… The comments below were a chorus of people whining about how single they were, complaining about getting hit in the face with this “cold, hard dog food” (PDA). As I read, the corners of my mouth couldn’t help but curve up. Because my boyfriend, Ethan, was exactly like that. Even though he didn’t have much money, he was incredibly honest, kind, and driven. And he treated me incredibly well. But as I kept reading, a chilling sense of wrongness crept over me. Not only did the guy in the post share an uncanny personality resemblance with Ethan, but his height, weight, age, zodiac sign, and even his hometown were exactly the same. This was way too much of a coincidence, wasn’t it?! I turned my head to look at Ethan sleeping next to me, my heart sinking like a stone. It’s impossible, I comforted myself. Ethan would never cheat on me. But for some inexplicable reason, my chest tightened with panic. If I didn’t investigate this tonight, there was no way I was going to sleep. I carefully reached over and took Ethan’s phone. He never hid his passcode from me; he always let me look whenever I wanted. It was the same this time. I scoured every single app and couldn’t find a single suspicious thing. I let out a sigh of relief, silently cursing myself for being paranoid. How could there possibly be such a coincidence? Just as I was about to put the phone down and go back to sleep, I suddenly remembered that Ethan had borrowed my car yesterday. When I asked him why, he said he had to go to the office for some overtime… Driven by a ghost of a suspicion, I slipped out of bed, went to the bathroom, and pulled up the dashcam app on my phone. I never checked my dashcam footage. But the moment I opened the log, my heart stopped. All the previous footage had been completely wiped clean. The only recordings left were from yesterday. Only Ethan had access to my phone. If the footage was wiped, he was the only one who could have done it. But why would he need to delete the recordings?! I took a deep breath and opened the only remaining footage from yesterday. He had been exhausted today and passed out the second his head hit the pillow. He probably just hadn’t had the chance to delete today’s footage yet. I clicked on yesterday’s date. The fluorescent light in the bathroom was so bright it made my head spin. I stood there in dead silence, watching the progress bar slowly move forward. After a short while, the car pulled into a residential complex I didn’t recognize. Then, the car parked in front of an apartment building, and the sound of the car door shutting echoed through the speaker. No one spoke in the car, but almost immediately, the unmistakable sound of kissing filled the audio. Then, a woman laughed coquettishly and said: “When are you going to get the rest of the money?” I froze. That voice was so familiar. Wasn’t that my coworker, Rachel? Why was she in my car? Ethan’s voice rang out next: “Soon! I just hit her up for another $15,000 yesterday. Combined with the $10,000 from before, we’ve already got half of it. “I’ll make up another excuse in a few days. I’ll tell her the business went under and I lost everything, and ask her to give me more… Who knows, maybe your future husband can squeeze enough out of her to buy you a house too!” Ethan slapped Rachel affectionately, judging by the sound, and laughed: “We’ll buy you that house in Oakwood Estates you love so much!” Rachel scoffed playfully. “She’s so stupid and so obsessed with you, of course she’ll give it to you! “Chloe has the best background in our entire company. I heard her uncle is the director of the City Planning Bureau. You better not let this catch slip away!” Rachel’s tone then softened completely: “Hubby, you’ve really suffered for us. If my parents weren’t demanding a $50,000 dowry for my brother, you wouldn’t have had to go seduce her…” Ethan chuckled. “She just got lucky being born into money, right? What does a woman need all that cash for anyway? She might as well let us spend it! “I heard her dad is planning to buy her a house soon. God knows how much dirty money that old bastard has embezzled. When the time comes, I’ll convince her to put my name on the deed, and then it’ll all belong to us!” I was paralyzed. I stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly at my phone screen. Rachel was a coworker at my company. When I first joined, she found out I was single and very enthusiastically introduced Ethan to me. And I fell for him at first sight. We got together very quickly. My hands were trembling so violently I could barely hold the phone. A freezing chill swept through my entire body. Ethan and Rachel’s voices echoed in my head like a demonic chant. It turned out that beneath the skin of the honest, driven, and considerate man I thought I knew lay an entirely different, monstrous face. My supposed “love at first sight” was nothing more than a calculated approach designed to steal my family’s wealth. Ethan only got together with me to scam me out of my money, all to satisfy the exorbitant dowry Rachel’s family was demanding for her brother. This was absolute, complete bullshit! I collapsed onto the bathroom tiles, covering my burning, stinging eyes. Tears of pure, unadulterated humiliation streamed down my face. Ethan and I were already talking about marriage. I genuinely thought he was a gift from God, a man perfectly tailored for me. My parents had already started preparing my wedding fund. They were very satisfied with Ethan and planned to give me a $30,000 cash gift and buy him a car. But now… I stared at the ceiling, my brain a chaotic, spiraling mess. Just as I was paralyzed with shock and betrayal, the faint sound of footsteps came from outside the door. Ethan was up. I instantly swiped away the app and stood up to splash cold water on my face. Ethan pushed the door open, wrapping his arms around me from behind, his voice dripping with gentle concern. “Why are you up washing your face in the middle of the night?” I stared at him intently through the mirror. I used to think heaven had taken pity on me, sending me such a perfect man. I never imagined it was all an elaborate, malicious scam. These two disgusting grifters had set this vicious trap just to drain my bank accounts! And Rachel had the sheer, unmitigated audacity to go brag about it on Twitter! The handsome face I once thought was flawless now looked twisted and repulsive. I clenched my fists, a venomous hatred blooming in my chest. These two pieces of trash. I was going to make them pay for this! … “What’s wrong?” Ethan noticed my expression change, his face immediately shifting to concern. He pressed the back of his hand against my forehead, looking incredibly worried: “Do you have a fever?” It took every ounce of strength in my body to suppress the urge to turn around and slap the life out of him. I forced a strained smile. “I’m fine. It’s just too hot, I was sweating and felt gross.” “Let me feel, are you really that sweaty?” Ethan laughed, slipping his hand under my shirt. This absolute animal! Trying to steal my money and use my body! I gritted my teeth so hard my jaw ached. I grabbed his hand, brushing him off dismissively: “I don’t feel well.” “…Okay then,” he muttered, clearly disappointed. He pulled me out of the bathroom and back into bed. Ethan lay next to me and was asleep again in minutes. I, however, stared at the pitch-black ceiling, fury boiling in my veins. I wasn’t going to let them get away with this! 02 First thing the next morning, I requested a few days off work and stayed home specifically to investigate Rachel. Sure enough, after a few hours of digging, I finally found her Twitter account. Besides retweeting giveaways, her entire feed was dedicated to showing off her relationship. The timeline spanned years, proving they had been together for at least three years. Almost all the photos were of her and Ethan. Many of them were taken in hotel rooms. At a glance, I could tell they were cheap, rundown motels—worse than a Motel 6. Both Rachel and Ethan came from rural, struggling families. At first, I actually felt bad for Rachel. Whenever I bought something nice, I’d buy two and give her one. I even let her carpool with me on the way home from work. But my kindness had fed a monster! She actually set her sights on my family’s assets! The whole picture was crystal clear now. I took screenshots of every single tweet and saved them all to a hidden folder. I lay on my bed, my mind racing with plans. I wasn’t going to just let this go. Since they had the guts to target me, they had to pay the price! They want money, right? I’m going to make them vomit up every single cent they have! … According to their conversation on the dashcam, Ethan was going to ask me for money for the third time very soon. Before this, he always claimed he was starting a business. To support him, I gave him all my savings. I even stopped driving my car. Afraid he was working too hard running around for his “business,” I gave him my keys and started taking the subway to work. But while he claimed to be out hustling for his startup, he was actually driving my car to take Rachel out on dates! Rachel even had the shameless audacity to post pictures of my car on her Twitter, acting like it was hers! I suppressed the fury threatening to consume me and waited for Ethan to make his move. Sure enough, two days later, Ethan started acting dejected, moping around in front of me. He wouldn’t say anything first. He just kept sighing heavily in my presence, waiting for me to ask. I watched his performance with cold, detached eyes. After a while, he clearly started getting impatient, and his sighs grew louder and more dramatic. “What’s wrong?” I asked, pasting a look of deep concern on my face, deciding to play along with his little act. Ethan glanced at me, pretending to hesitate, before continuing his performance: “Forget it, it’s nothing.” I gave him an out: “What is it? Just tell me!” “Sigh. I wasn’t going to tell you, but a large shipment of my inventory got held up at customs. I don’t have the cash to order new stock right now. If this keeps up, I’m afraid my company is going to go under!” I sneered internally. Company? I had already run a background check. There was absolutely no company registered under his name. He didn’t even know how to lie properly. Blinded by love, I used to actually believe this garbage and transferred money to him time and time again. I feigned distress: “But I don’t have any money left either. That $15,000 I gave you last time was everything I had left…” I watched Ethan’s expression out of the corner of my eye. His face tightened slightly, but he quickly adjusted and nodded: “I know. As a man, I shouldn’t be asking you for money anyway. “I was just venting…” If this were any normal day, I would have already been frantically trying to find a solution for him. But today, I acted like I didn’t hear a thing and completely ignored his bait. Ethan watched me for a moment. When I didn’t take the bait, he pulled a makeup gift set out of a shopping bag and handed it to me. “Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day! An early gift for you!” I took the set. One glance was all I needed to know it was a cheap counterfeit. Ethan had given me counterfeits before, but he always claimed he bought them through a personal shopper. I used to think he had just been scammed and felt too bad to tell him the truth. Thinking back on it now, he just didn’t want to spend money on me. He bought fakes on purpose! Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. He was definitely planning to go out on a date with Rachel. I thought about it and decided to just hand him the perfect opportunity. “Thank you, baby. But it sucks that I have to go out of town on a business trip tomorrow and the day after. I won’t be able to spend it with you…” Ethan froze, quickly putting on a disappointed face: “Ah, that long… I’m going to miss my wife so much. Can you try to get out of it?” I looked him dead in the eyes and smiled: “Then should I just call in sick?” Ethan choked, his expression turning incredibly unnatural: “I was just kidding. Work comes first. I’ll just have to endure it.” My stomach churned with disgust, but I played the charade to the end: “I’ll be back the night after tomorrow. You have to come pick me up from the airport.” … That afternoon, I pretended to pack my bags. While Ethan was out of the apartment, I installed several hidden pinhole cameras around the place. To save money, Ethan would never pay for a hotel room. I bet he would use my “business trip” as the perfect excuse to bring Rachel back to my apartment. I grabbed my suitcase and went back to my parents’ house. I pulled out my phone and kept an eye on the dashcam feed. These two disgusting grifters definitely wouldn’t be able to wait until tomorrow. Sure enough, as soon as evening hit, the dashcam feed came alive. The car pulled into Rachel’s rundown, older apartment complex. When she got in the car, Ethan seemed to pull something out and hand it to her. “Wifey, early Happy Valentine’s Day!” Rachel let out a gasp: “La Mer?! This is super expensive! I saw Chloe using this at the office.” Then she playfully slapped him: “So what did you get her? La Mer too?” Ethan chuckled smugly. “Are you kidding? I got her a counterfeit set I bought off some guy on Facebook for a hundred bucks. That dumb bitch can’t even tell the difference.” Hearing that, a violent tremor wracked my heart. I had been using La Mer since high school. How could I possibly not know the difference between the real thing and a cheap fake? I only pretended to be thrilled because I knew Ethan’s financial situation was tough, and I wanted to protect his fragile ego. I never expected my genuine compassion to be so thoroughly trampled on by him. Rachel’s laugh was laced with pure malice: “Who knows, maybe the stuff she used before was fake too. I hope her face rots off!” … Exactly as I predicted, Ethan drove the car back to my apartment building. The moment Rachel walked through the door, she made a beeline for my vanity, opening every single one of my skincare products. “I heard this one is super expensive. Like three hundred dollars a bottle!” She aggressively scooped a massive glob out of my face cream jar and smeared it on her face: “She won’t notice I used it, right?” Ethan hugged her from behind, completely indulgent: “It’s fine. If she notices, I’ll just say I used it.” I felt a surge of pure rage shoot from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my skull! No wonder my skincare products were running out so insanely fast! Every time I asked Ethan, he claimed he was just curious and tried some. It turned out Rachel had been using them! I was so incredibly disgusted I sprinted to the bathroom and scrubbed my face raw. While I was washing my face, Rachel had put on one of my dresses and was posing in front of the mirror, wearing one of my designer bags. “Hubby, this bag is gorgeous. When are you going to buy me one?” Ethan’s face stiffened awkwardly: “That one’s pretty expensive… like four thousand dollars…” Rachel stroked my bag, her face twisted with greedy longing, begging him: “All my coworkers have bags like this. I’m the only one carrying a fake every day. They all look down on me…” She was talking absolute, unfiltered bullshit. Our office was so insanely busy everyone was running around like headless chickens. Who the hell had the time to care what kind of bag she was carrying? I often went to work carrying a canvas tote bag, and literally no one ever said a word. Hearing this, Ethan looked deeply conflicted. After a long while, he gritted his teeth and said: “If you like it, just take it. “She has so many bags, she probably won’t even remember. If she does notice it’s missing, I’ll just say I accidentally ruined it and threw it away.” Rachel’s eyes lit up. She leaned over and planted a massive kiss on Ethan’s cheek. “Hubby, you’re the best!” … Watching from the other side of the screen, I was so furious I wanted to crawl through the phone and stab these two scumbags to death! Using my skincare, stealing my bags. How fucking cheap can you get?! I took a deep breath, forcing my rage down as I watched them aggressively making out and rolling around on my bed. My dad had bought me that bed. The mattress alone cost over three thousand dollars. The silk sheets they were ruining cost eight hundred. I was extremely particular about my bedding. It had cost me almost an entire month’s salary at the time. And now, these two pieces of human garbage were rolling around on my expensive silk sheets, making nauseating, grotesque sounds. Ten minutes later, Rachel lay on Ethan’s arm, cuddling him and talking. “My parents said we need to get the dowry money together ASAP. My brother is waiting on it so he can marry his girlfriend.” Ethan rubbed his temples, sounding exhausted: “I know, but we need money, and that bitch refuses to give me any more. “Fuck, rich people are the worst. They all deserve to die!” Rachel traced circles on his chest, whispering poison: “Just PUA her! (Pick-Up Artist/Gaslight her) “Pick apart all her flaws, make her feel like she’s not good enough for you, and she’ll naturally want to please you. “Haven’t you seen the news? Girls who get PUA’d are willing to die for their men.” A flash of venomous malice crossed Rachel’s face: “What right does she have to live such a good life? Just because she was born lucky?” Ethan fell deep in thought, playing with Rachel’s hair. “I’ll give it a try.” A freezing chill ran down my spine. I had truly believed I was treating Ethan with my whole heart, and I had always looked out for Rachel at work. I never imagined that some people are born as parasitic, man-eating wolves, lurking in the gutters, waiting to tear the flesh off anyone who walks by. My fingernails dug deep into my palms. Shaking, I saved the video files and backed them up to my laptop. Ethan. Rachel. I am going to make absolutely sure every single drop of your malice blows up right in your own faces! 04 The next day, I packed my bags and went back to the apartment. The very first thing I did was take all my skincare products and bedding and throw them straight into the dumpster. Even though it hurt to lose the money, the thought of them being contaminated by Rachel was too disgusting. I physically couldn’t bring myself to use them anymore. After cleaning the apartment, I sat in the living room and waited for Ethan to get home. At 6 PM sharp, Ethan walked through the door. Seeing the apartment looking different, he looked surprised: “What put you in the mood to clean?” I brushed it off: “It felt a little dirty.” Ethan nodded, a bright smile plastered on his face as he walked over to hug me: “I missed you so much! Let me hold you!” I stiffened as he wrapped his arms around me. Ethan paused for a microsecond, then said casually: “Chloe, did you gain weight?” I sneered internally. Here we go. “Really?” Ethan, following Rachel’s script, started picking me apart: “Yeah, you definitely look a little thicker than before. You’re getting a muffin top.” I gripped the armrest tightly and looked up at him: “So, do you want to break up with me?” Ethan’s expression froze, but he quickly recovered: “How could I? I’m the only one who wouldn’t be disgusted by you. Why would I break up with my wife? “Speaking of which, wifey, do you have any more cash? Can you think of a way to help me cover this week? Ten grand is all I need!” He sat down next to me, wrapping his arm around my waist, coaxing me: “Once I make it big, I’ll buy my wife a massive mansion. How does that sound?” He rested his head on my shoulder, looking incredibly pitiful: “I started this company right out of college. I’m just short this little bit of cash… Wifey, I really don’t want to give up on years of hard work!” I looked conflicted. I hesitated for a long time before saying: “Baby, I really am completely broke. I gave you everything I saved.” Ethan looked noticeably impatient, but he suppressed his frustration: “What about your parents? Your family has money, just ask your parents for a loan.” If this were the past, Ethan would never be this aggressively impatient. He would constantly hint at me, but he would never explicitly ask. It seems Rachel’s family was putting severe pressure on them for the dowry. “My dad’s company just had a massive shipment delayed. He’s really tight on cash too…” I turned my head, looking at Ethan hesitantly: “But…” “But what?” Ethan sat up straight instantly. I bit my lip and said: “But I heard my dad say he has a connection to get two cheap luxury villas. “He said someone foreclosed on them or something. It’s guaranteed to be a massive profit, but my family just doesn’t have that kind of liquid cash right now. “If we could just buy them and flip them immediately, we could easily make a million or two in profit.” Hearing this, Ethan’s eyes instantly lit up with a greedy fire. But then he remembered I just said I didn’t have any money, and his expression deflated. “Is there no other way?” I shook my head: “My family really can’t pull the cash together. You know how I am with you. If I had it, of course I’d give it to you. “Sigh, this deal would make us two million overnight. It’s such a shame…” Two million. To Ethan, this was a life-changing amount of money. There was no way he was going to let this go. Sure enough, Ethan hesitated for a moment before asking: “How much are you short?” I controlled my tone carefully: “Those villas are worth at least six million on the market. My dad has about five million tied up in receivables he can pull together, so we’re just short about a million.” I looked down, my expression totally defeated: “I originally thought if I bought the house, I’d put your name on the deed. The timing for this is just terrible!” I used to be entirely open and honest with Ethan. When he needed money, I never hesitated to give it to him. Because I never really valued money that much. I always put love and relationships first. My friends called me a hopeless romantic and an idiot, but I didn’t care. Looking back, I truly was an absolute, naive idiot. Ethan didn’t suspect a thing. He looked down, calculating rapidly: “Baby, I still think this opportunity is too rare. Flipping it for two million in profit… “Two million! Think of how many designer bags that could buy you!” I leaned against him and sighed heavily. “I know. But what can we do?” Ethan thought for a moment before saying: “Let me figure something out! I’ll help you scrape together that million!” I kept my head down, the corners of my mouth curving into a sharp, cruel smile. “Okay, hubby. I’m counting on you.” 05 Ethan left the apartment immediately after dropping that promise. A guy like him shouldn’t have believed me so easily. But he knew my family was wealthy, and my uncle was the director of the City Planning Bureau. He truly believed my family had elite connections. Combined with the fact that I had never hesitated to hand him cash before, he had absolutely no reason to doubt I was lying. But where the hell was he going to get a million dollars? Even subtracting the twenty-odd thousand I had given him before, the remaining amount was not a small number. Would he ask Rachel? Or would he go back to his parents, who had broken their backs farming their whole lives? I sat on the sofa, filing my nails, meticulously planning my next move. Rachel and Ethan. I wasn’t going to let either of them off the hook. For greedy, money-obsessed parasites like them, money was the only thing they truly cared about. How could I force them to vomit up every single cent they had? … Ethan came back half an hour later. He looked at me, his expression much less frantic than before. “Chloe, that villa you mentioned… is it legit?” He quickly explained: “I don’t mean anything by it, I’m just afraid your dad might get scammed.” I knew exactly what had happened. He had definitely stepped outside to call Rachel. Rachel was suspicious of what I had said. Ethan continued: “Where is the villa anyway? Can we go take a look?” I nodded easily. “Sure. It’s right off Ocean Drive. Oakwood Estates. You know it, right?” Ethan’s expression froze for a microsecond, then the corners of his mouth uncontrollably curled upwards into a massive grin. “What?” I smiled at him. “You know the place?” Ethan quickly suppressed his smile, trying to act casual: “No, just heard people talk about it. They’re single-family homes, right? “Those are super expensive. Probably three hundred a square foot. A three-thousand-square-foot house would be pushing a million… “If we can snag it for six hundred thousand and flip it for a million…” He couldn’t help but ramble on, his eyes growing brighter and brighter. He was clearly already fantasizing about the luxurious life he and Rachel would live in that villa. It seems Ethan’s feelings for Rachel were genuine. Rachel said she loved Oakwood Estates, and Ethan had actually done the research. However, with their salaries, they could never afford a place like that in this lifetime. I looked at Ethan’s excited face and sneered internally. Be happy now. Your agony is coming. … I don’t know what Rachel said to Ethan, but despite his verbal promises, he never actually transferred the money to me. To completely eliminate their suspicions, I took him for a drive around Oakwood Estates the next afternoon. “That’s the one.” I pointed to a house and told him: “My dad said the owner’s cash flow dried up and he desperately needs money. This house was signed over to my dad’s contact as collateral. “Honestly, a normal sale would be fine, but there aren’t many buyers who can drop that kind of cash upfront. Plus, my dad had inventory tied up with that guy, so he asked my dad if he wanted it.” “Oh.” Ethan’s eyes were glued to the house. He walked around the perimeter, his hands behind his back, examining every detail with extreme focus. That night, Ethan came back very late. He claimed he was working overtime, but I had already listened to his entire conversation with Rachel on the dashcam. “…I asked around. The property management confirmed the owner is a businessman. Someone in retail furniture, I think.” Rachel’s voice could barely hide her excitement. “Did she really say that? Her dad can get Oakwood Estates for six hundred grand?” “Yeah. We’re just short a hundred grand now. I told her I’d get it together.” Rachel was silent for a moment before saying: “I still have fifteen thousand here…” “Fifteen thousand?” Ethan sounded confused: “Didn’t I give you twenty-five thousand?” Rachel’s voice faltered, suddenly lacking confidence: “…My brother wanted to buy a car a little while ago. My mom borrowed ten thousand from me.” “Rachel! That was the money I saved for the dowry! What are we going to do about the fifty thousand your parents are demanding?!” Ethan was panicking. Rachel quickly tried to soothe him: “My mom said she’ll pay it back. Don’t worry. Besides, once we get the house, are we really going to care about ten grand?” Ethan took a few heavy breaths, forcing himself to calm down: “We only have fifteen thousand left now. How are we supposed to buy the house?!” Rachel’s tone softened: “I’ll figure something out. I’ve saved a few thousand over the last two years. We’ll just have to go back and beg my parents for a little more.” “Are we asking your family, or mine?!” “My mom saved thirty thousand for my brother’s future wife’s dowry… Let me think. If we’re flipping this house in two months tops, we should be able to make it work!” Rachel pondered for a moment: “And there’s the money for the car they haven’t bought yet. That’s another twenty thousand… “What about your family, hubby? Can your family chip in a little more?” Ethan snapped irritably: “You know exactly how much my family has. I’ve drained them dry over the years. The most I can do is make my mom sell her land. That might get us another ten grand!” Rachel cooed gently: “If she sells it, she sells it. Once you get the house, Mom won’t ever have to farm again, right?” Ethan fell into a heavy silence. The atmosphere between them grew incredibly tense. When Ethan dropped Rachel off that day, neither of them said a single word. I rubbed my phone, calculating my next move. Sure enough, it didn’t take long for Ethan to transfer all the money to me. Exactly one hundred thousand dollars. Nothing more, nothing less. I have no idea how Rachel convinced his parents. A family that basically sold their daughter to pay for their son’s dowry actually coughed up the cash. But for a family like hers, that money was likely their entire life savings. When he sent me the transfer, Ethan looked exhausted. He had deep, dark bags under his eyes. I leaned in close, my voice soft: “What’s wrong?” Ethan shook his head, forcing a strained smile: “It’s nothing, baby. When is the house going to close?” I pretended to think for a moment: “Two months, max. Hubby, do you think we should flip the house or keep it for ourselves? “If we keep it, I’ll put the deed entirely in your name, okay?” Ethan froze. I watched as sheer, uncontainable ecstasy erupted across his face. He quickly turned his head, covering my hand: “…Whatever you want. I don’t care about the house. I’m just afraid that if I don’t have anything, your parents will look down on me when I go ask for your hand in marriage.” “How could they?” I hugged him tightly, whispering, “So, Hubby, since you gave me this hundred grand, should I write you an IOU? I feel like we should keep things clear.” Ethan was terrified I would keep things clear. He knew that if I wrote an IOU, there was no way I’d put his name on the deed. He quickly panicked: “No need! My money is my wife’s money. Why are you trying to draw lines between us?” I looked up at him and asked: “Hubby, you’re amazing. Where did you get a hundred thousand dollars? “Did you borrow it? Who do you know that’s close enough to just loan you that much cash? We should go visit them and say thank you.” Ethan looked completely flustered. “No, no one lent me the money. It’s… it’s from my parents selling their land… Look, just don’t worry about it, your husband’s got it handled!” “Oh,” I nodded, hugging him closer. “Hubby, you gave me all this money and don’t even want me to pay you back. You’re the best.” Ethan was riding a tiger and couldn’t get off. He forced a smile: “Of course. What’s mine is yours. It’s what I should do…” I hugged him tight. In a spot where he couldn’t see, I pulled out my phone and hit “Stop” on the voice recorder. Everything I needed, I now had.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “436709”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that kitchen, the air thick with the scent of woodsmoke and old grease. I was back on the morning that ruined everything. And once again, I chose to run. I ran straight to Granny Ruth’s room, my voice high and thin, a child’s treble spilling the secret of my mother’s planned escape. In my memories, Mom had spent years whispering the truth to me like a bedtime story. She told me she wasn’t from this place—that she was a “city girl” from a family with a real house and a lawn, stolen and sold into this godforsaken hollow. She promised that one day, she would take me far away. When I was six, she finally had everything ready. But I sold her out for a slice of thick white bread slathered in honey and the hollow promise of Granny’s affection. I remember sitting on the porch, stuffing my face with that sweet, sticky bread while my mother’s screams tore through the yard. They had her tied to the old, gnarled oak tree. My father was systematic with the belt. She had looked up then, her eyes gleaming with a pure, concentrated venom I had never seen before. She didn’t look like my mother; she looked like a wounded animal. She called me a heartless little monster. At the time, I felt only a confused sense of betrayal. I didn’t understand why she wanted to leave my father and me. I thought a “family” meant staying, no matter how much it hurt. Three days later, she took her own life in the tool shed. And not long after that, on a night when the moon was shielded by clouds, my father—blind drunk and raging at the world—killed me with a blow that was meant to “teach me a lesson.” In those final moments, as my breath rattled and faded, I finally understood. I understood her desperation. I understood her hate. And I understood that the “family” I had protected was really just a cage. 01 “You worthless bitch! I gave you a roof, I gave you food, and you try to run?” My father’s roar vibrated in my chest. Hank was a mountain of a man, his face twisted into something demonic as he swung the leather strap. My mother was suspended from the oak branch, her clothes tattered, blood blooming like dark roses on her skin. She didn’t even have the strength to scream anymore. Granny Ruth stood on the porch, her arms crossed over her chest, a look of profound disgust on her weathered face. “I told you she was a flighty thing, Hank. You should’ve kept her in the basement on a chain. You’re too soft.” She spat on the dirt. “If it wasn’t for this little girl speaking up, she’d be halfway to the interstate by now. We don’t have the cash to buy you another wife, son.” Mom managed to lift her head. The warmth that used to be in her eyes—the way she used to tuck my hair behind my ears—was gone. There was only a cold, jagged loathing. “You little demon,” she rasped, her voice a ghost of itself. “I should have smothered you in your sleep.” Hank reached for a heavy iron pry bar, swearing he’d break her legs so she’d never take another step toward the road. I paused, clutching my piece of honey-toast. I looked at her, my face smudged with dirt, and forced a smile that I hoped looked both innocent and chilling. “Daddy, if you break her legs, who’s going to hoe the garden?” Hank hesitated. The logic of the harvest won out over his rage. He cursed, dropped the bar, and grabbed a heavy rusted chain from the back of his truck. He looped it around her neck like a dog. “I’ll break ’em after the corn is in,” he growled. After he left to go play cards and drink with the neighbors, I crept out to the yard. I managed to get her down and brought her a bowl of cold scraps. “Mommy, eat,” I whispered. She jerked her head away, her lip curling. With a sudden burst of energy, she slapped the bowl out of my hand and spat in my face. “Get away from me! You’re not mine. You’re one of them.” I stood there, the cold grease from the scraps dripping down my cheek. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a cold hand. Hank chose that moment to stumble back into the yard. Hearing her shout, he didn’t even hesitate. He kicked her off the porch steps and followed her down, his boots connecting with her ribs. “I’ve been too damn nice to you!” he screamed. He dragged her by the hair toward the side shed, the chain rattling against the stones. “You sleep on the dirt from now on,” he barked. He turned to me, his eyes bloodshot and impatient. “Hey, brat. If she tries to touch you again, you tell me or your Granny. You hear?” I nodded obediently. He grunted, stumbling toward the house. “You’re gonna be worth a few thousand in a couple of years,” he muttered to himself. “Better not let you die yet.” Late that night, after the house fell into a heavy, alcohol-soaked silence, I crept into the shed. She was shivering on the ground, her skin burning with fever. Granny kept all the medicine locked in a tin box; she said “strays and traitors” didn’t deserve it. I spent the night dipping a rag into a bucket of cold water, wiping her brow over and over. I sat there in the dark, hugging my knees. This was Day One of my second chance. In my first life, this was the beginning of the end. I had been brainwashed into thinking “family” was sacred, that her escape was a betrayal of me. So I told on her. And I watched her die. This time, I had turned her in again—but only to save her legs. I knew if she ran that day, Hank would have caught her at the trailhead and crippled her for life. I was smarter now. I knew she was a prisoner. I knew I was the child of a monster. This time, I wasn’t going to keep her here. I was going to be the one to open the gate. 02 “Get up, you lazy cow! It’s noon! Where’s my lunch?” Hank kicked the shed door open, his heavy boot prodding her limp body. When she didn’t move, he cursed and yelled back toward the house. “Ma! Give this bitch some aspirin or something. I don’t need her kicking the bucket yet.” “City girls,” Granny grumbled from the porch. “Fragile as glass.” I spent the day hovering over her. When she finally woke in the evening, her eyes struggled to focus on me. I held out a bowl of mashed potatoes, trying to look helpful. “Mommy, please eat.” She didn’t take the food. Instead, she used her last ounce of strength to grab my arm, her fingers digging in like claws. “Why? Why did you tell them?” The agony in her voice was a physical weight. I swallowed my tears and put on the mask of a brainwashed child. “Mommy, you and Daddy are supposed to be together. We’re a family. I’m just trying to keep us whole.” She stared at me like I was a stranger—a monster she had birthed. Then, she started to laugh, a dry, hacking sound. “My mistake. I thought you were my daughter. I forgot you have his blood in your veins. You were born rotten.” Her words cut deeper than any belt. In that moment, I knew I had lost her forever. She would never love me again. I remembered Granny once saying I was a “mistake” Mom had fought to keep. Mom had been skin and bones, yet she had nursed me and shared every scrap of her food with me. Before the bitterness took over, she used to hold me at night and whisper, “Daisy, hold on. Just a little longer. Mommy’s gonna get us out.” Everyone else called me “brat” or “worthless,” but she had named me Daisy. She told me I was her little bit of sunshine in the dark. But now, Daisy was dead to her. I was just another jailer. It didn’t matter. I still loved her. In my last life, I heard Hank bragging that he had let her try to escape that first time. He wanted to see if she was still “broken-in.” If she tried to run, he knew he had to beat the hope out of her once and for all. That’s why I told. I had to stop her from running into a trap. This time, I would ensure she ran when the path was clear. I would send her back to her real life, even if I couldn’t go with her. 03 As soon as she could stand, Hank had her back to work. She was a ghost in chains, hauling water, scrubbing floors, and working the garden. Hank spent his days at the local dive bar. When he lost at cards, he’d come home and take it out on her, calling her a “jinx.” I stayed in the shadows, forced to watch. After his rage was spent, he would drag her into the bedroom. I’d huddle in the hallway, listening to her muffled cries and his heavy, triumphant breathing. On the porch, Granny Ruth would listen too, a sickening smile stretching her wrinkles. “We’ll have a grandson soon,” she’d prune. She looked like a ghoul in the yellow porch light, a predator waiting for fresh meat. Under the cover of night, I started slipping away to the woods behind our shack. The briars tore at my skin, leaving me bloody, but I didn’t care. I knew the plants Mom used to talk about. I gathered what I needed and hid the herbs in a hollow log near the creek. The house sat on the hill like a squat, ugly beast, swallowing Mom’s life whole. At dawn, I’d be up to fix breakfast, trying to give her a few extra minutes of rest. “The brat’s actually useful for something,” Hank remarked one morning over his bacon. Granny Ruth tilted my chin up, inspecting me like a heifer at an auction. “She’s got her mother’s looks. She’ll fetch a high price when she’s of age. We’ll get our money back and then some.” I kept my eyes down, playing the part of the vacant, obedient doll. A month passed. Mom was getting weaker, the light in her eyes flickering out. She looked like she had finally given up. My heart ached, but I couldn’t comfort her. She looked at me with pure loathing every time I came near. Then came the news: she was pregnant again. Hank was ecstatic. “A son! Finally, an heir!” Granny actually gave her an egg for breakfast, a “reward” for her fertility. But that night, the silence was shattered by a scream that sounded like a dying animal. Mom had thrown herself against the corner of the heavy wooden dresser, over and over, until the life inside her was gone. Blood soaked the floorboards. Hank was incandescent with rage. He kicked her square in the chest. “You bitch! You killed my son!” Mom lay in the blood, her face pale as bone, but her eyes—for the first time in months—were blazing. “I will never,” she spat, “bear another monster for a rapist like you.” The word monster hit me like a physical blow. I knew she meant me. “You’re here to breed, and if you won’t do it willingly, I’ll beat it into you!” Hank screamed. He lashed her until she stopped moving, then tied her to the bedpost so she couldn’t even crawl away. From that night on, she wasn’t even allowed in the shed. He moved her to the pigpen. 04 She was treated like livestock now, chained in the muck of the pigpen with nothing but a thin layer of straw. Her clothes were rags, stained with old blood. When a neighbor stopped by and asked about the “city girl,” Hank just shrugged. “She’s a stubborn one. Lost the boy on purpose. Needs a firm hand.” The neighbor, an old man with yellow teeth, just chuckled. “They’re all like that. A woman ain’t a woman if she ain’t breeding. Hit her a few more times. Or, if she’s really a problem, just knock her upside the head until she’s simple. She’ll be easier to handle then.” Hank rubbed his chin. “But who’ll do the work if she’s simple?” The old man pointed at me. “The little one’s getting big. She looks handy.” Hank’s eyes lit up. “You’re right, Silas. You’re always right.” I stood by the pump, my blood running cold. My time was running out. I couldn’t wait any longer. “If you want her to be a good broodmare, you gotta feed her a bit,” Silas added. “Can’t have her dying before you get your money’s worth.” Hank nodded begrudgingly. Over the next month, he “fattened her up” like a hog for slaughter, forcing food down her throat when she refused to eat. Labor Day was three days away. In our town, that meant a big community BBQ and plenty of moonshine. I walked into the pigpen and knelt in the mud in front of her. She was a shell of the woman she had been. “Get out, you little parasite,” she hissed without opening her eyes. I looked at her, memorizing the curve of her jaw, the way her hair used to smell like lavender before it smelled like rot. “Mommy,” I whispered. “The holiday is coming. You’re going to see your real family soon. Aren’t you happy?” She let out a harsh, jagged laugh. “See them? In hell, maybe. I’ll see them when I finally kill your father and then myself.” I looked down, my heart breaking in silence. 05 The Labor Day BBQ was the biggest event of the year. The house was full of the town’s worst men and their weary wives. Granny had me up at 4:00 AM to start the prep. She actually let us have a big pot of pork stew and cornbread. While I stirred the pot, standing on a chair, I slipped in the powdered herbs I’d been collecting for weeks. It wasn’t enough to kill—just enough to induce a deep, heavy sleep that felt like a coma. Hank and Granny wouldn’t let Mom or me eat the “good” food. That was my saving grace. By 8:00 PM, the sun had dropped, and the hollow was pitch black. One by one, the men and women in the yard began to slump over. My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I whistled into the darkness, and a shadow moved near the treeline. It was Benny. Everyone called him “Simple Benny,” the local handyman who never said a word. But I knew better. I had seen him watching the house with eyes that were far too sharp for a fool. Benny moved with a soldier’s precision. He unlocked Mom’s chains and threw a heavy coat over her shoulders. Mom stared at him, bewildered. “Who are you?” “No time,” Benny whispered, his voice low and cultured—not the local drawl. “I’m an undercover agent. I’ve been trying to get enough evidence on this ring for months. Daisy told me tonight was the night. We have to move.” I handed Mom a small bundle. “Mommy, there’s some bread and water in here. For the road.” She pushed me away so hard I hit the muddy ground. “Stay away from me! Is this another trick? Are you calling them now?” I clutched my scraped elbow, unable to speak. Benny stepped between us. “She saved you, Stella. That first time you tried to run? It was a set-up. Hank was waiting in the brush with a shotgun. Daisy knew. She turned you in to keep you alive. She’s the reason I’m here.” Mom froze. She looked at me, her expression a chaotic map of shock and dawning realization. She reached out and pulled me into a fierce, trembling hug. For a second, I was back in the “before.” I breathed in the scent of her, even through the grime. Just a second longer, I prayed. Let me remember this. “Lights!” Benny hissed. I looked toward the village. Torches were flickering. The neighbors who hadn’t come to our house were mobilizing. Someone must have seen Benny. “Go!” I shouted. “They’re coming!” “Run!” Benny grabbed Mom’s arm. “This is the only shot!” They disappeared into the brush. I watched them go, then turned toward the approaching lights. A group of men, led by the town’s sheriff, were charging up the hill. “She’s heading for the ridge!” someone screamed. I took a deep breath and began to run—not toward Mom, but in the exact opposite direction. I wore an old shawl of hers, letting it flutter behind me like a signal. “There she is! Don’t let the bitch get away!” I scrambled through the thorns, my lungs burning, my legs screaming. A sharp pain exploded in my calf—a pitchfork or a stray bullet, I didn’t know. I kept moving until I reached the Devil’s Drop—a sheer cliff overlooking the river. I looked back. The torches were close. I could see Hank’s face, red with fury. I smiled. They’d never catch her now.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “436725”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I opened my eyes again, I was right back on the day the wealthiest man in the city stood with red-rimmed eyes, begging my mother to come home. This time, I was not going to let history repeat itself. My mother was just about to deliver her signature line from my past life—something tragically poetic about how an apology this late is worth less than dirt—when I lunged forward and wrapped my arms around the billionaire’s leg like a vise. “Daddy! Take me back to the mansion! I want to sleep in a giant bed, and I want to eat Maine lobster!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. The billionaire froze, utterly stunned. My mother’s face instantly drained of color, turning a sickly shade of gray. In my previous life, she had played the role of the proud, wounded heroine to perfection. To “punish” the male lead, she refused every cent of his help, going so far as to force me to steal and scavenge for food, which ultimately led to my miserable death on a freezing street corner. And then, she used my ashes to bring the billionaire to his knees. She traded my dead body for a tearful public apology and the wedding of the century. The internet worshipped her as the fiercely independent single mother who had survived against all odds. But I was the only one who knew the truth: she was clinically unhinged. She had slapped a billionaire across the face on a live stream, dragged her “illegitimate” daughter away into the slums, and rocketed to viral fame. But here was the thing: she might not have wanted the life of a billionaire’s heiress, but I did. I smiled against the fabric of his tailored suit. In this life, I was going to hold onto everything that belonged to me with a death grip. 01 My name is Mia. I am five years old. And I have already died once. In my last life, I died on a sidewalk in the dead of winter. I had been starving for three days and burning with a fever for two. I took my last breath huddled next to a frozen dumpster. My mother, Caroline Frost, stood in front of my grave and wept until her voice gave out. Her makeup didn’t run at all. Because she had set it with setting spray right before the cameras arrived. That performance of grief shot straight to the number one trending topic online. “Heartbroken Single Mother Suffers Unimaginable Loss. Billionaire Father Leaves Five-Year-Old to Die on the Streets.” The comment sections were a bloodbath. Jonathan Garrison was harassed until he stepped down from his company’s board of directors. He was publicly shamed until he dropped to his knees right there on the pavement in front of my urn. The moment his knees hit the concrete, my mother smiled. Just a tiny twitch of her lips, hidden behind the crowd. But I saw it clearly. Because my soul hadn’t dissipated yet. I watched with my own ghost eyes as she traded my ashes for a thirty-million-dollar post-nuptial agreement, a fairy-tale wedding, and the internet’s collective blessing for the “tragic heroine who finally got her happy ending.” I died, and she won. That was my past life. So, when I opened my eyes again and found myself holding my mother’s hand, standing at the intersection of a high-end shopping district—I knew exactly what was happening. Across the street, Jonathan Garrison stood with bloodshot eyes in front of three black Maybachs, flanked by a dozen bodyguards in dark suits. The wind was howling, snapping the hem of his wool overcoat. He looked at me with eyes hollowed out by guilt. His voice was gravelly and low. “Caroline, come back with me. Mia needs a home.” My mother’s chin instantly tilted upward. I knew this angle by heart. A perfect forty-five-degree tilt, eyes glistening but not spilling over, bottom lip trembling just enough. Backlit by the streetlamp, she looked devastatingly beautiful. She took a deep breath—no, she elegantly curated her emotions—and opened her mouth: “Jonathan, your money can’t buy my forgiveness. An apology this late is worth—” She had practiced this line in the mirror no less than a hundred times in my past life. I remembered the follow-up line, too: “Keep your billions. Caroline Frost doesn’t need your charity.” Then, she would yank me by the arm, turn on her heel, and walk right into the pouring rain, giving the paparazzi hiding in the bushes the perfect, cinematic shot of her tragic departure. And then we would go back to that mold-infested, basement apartment in the worst part of town. No heat. No hot water. Dinner would be half a packet of expired instant noodles. In my last life, I was a good girl. I followed her into the rain. This life? She was only halfway through her monologue. I moved. I ripped my hand out of hers, pumped my tiny little legs, and sprinted straight across the pavement. With a heavy thud, I threw my entire body weight onto Jonathan Garrison’s leg. The fabric of his suit trousers was slick, and I almost slid off, so I scrambled up a few inches and clamped my arms and legs around his thigh like a koala. “Daddy!!” I pushed the volume of my vocal cords to the absolute maximum. The entire street heard it. Jonathan looked down, his entire body going rigid. He probably hadn’t expected a five-year-old to possess the lung capacity of a siren. “Daddy, I want to go home! Take me to the mansion! I want a big bed! The kind you can jump on! And I want Maine lobster! Ten of them!” I stood there and demanded every single thing I had been denied in my previous life in one breathless rush. Behind me, my mother’s voice stuttered. Her monologue had completely derailed. “Mia… what… what are you doing?” I twisted my neck to look back at her. Under the glow of the streetlamps, the meticulously crafted mask of the ‘beautiful, suffering martyr’ was cracking. Beneath it was a very specific shade of green. It was the look of an actress who had just gathered her tears for the climax of the play, only to have the stage crew accidentally drop a sandbag on the set. I smiled. A bright, gap-toothed, genuinely sweet smile. “Mommy, this is my daddy.” I turned my face back up toward Jonathan. He slowly knelt down on the damp pavement, his eyes still red. But I noticed something shift in his gaze. In my last life, his eyes had held nothing but guilt and desperation. This time, mixed into the guilt, was shock. And… a fragile, terrified kind of joy. His voice was hoarse. “Mia… you want to come home with Daddy?” “Yes! More than anything!” I reached out my two short arms and wrapped them around his neck. He smelled like expensive pine and cedarwood. I had never smelled that in my past life. I buried my face into the crook of his shoulder and whispered something so softly that only he could hear: “Daddy, can I stay with you forever?” His shoulders jerked, muscles locking tight. Then, a large, warm hand cupped the back of my head. The touch was incredibly gentle, but his fingers were trembling. “Yes.” Just one word. But the restraint in his voice was breaking. I rested my chin on his shoulder and looked past him. Five yards away, Caroline stood frozen. The wind whipped her skirt around her legs as her expression cycled through shock, fury, calculation, and finally settled into a tight, jaw-clenching mask of endurance. She forced a smile. She was smiling directly at a bystander diagonally behind her who was secretly filming on a phone. “The poor dear… she’s just missed her father so much…” Her voice was dripping with sickening sweetness. But I knew the truth. She was going to be staring at the ceiling all night tonight. Because I had just ripped the first page right out of her script. 02 Jonathan’s estate was located in The Palisades. It was an ultra-exclusive enclave with only twelve properties, each sitting on acres of private land. As the convoy of SUVs rolled through the gates, I pressed my face against the tinted glass. Perfectly manicured sycamore trees lined the driveway, and a massive stone fountain was lit up with a warm, golden glow in the dark. At the end of the drive, a sprawling, modern white estate came into view. Two lines of uniformed staff were waiting by the grand entrance. The car glided to a stop, and a butler opened the door. “Mr. Garrison. The house is prepared.” Jonathan stepped out first, then turned around and lifted me out of the seat. He was incredibly awkward at holding a child. One hand hovered tentatively under my bottom, while the other seemed to have no idea where to go. He finally settled for placing it flat against my back. I played along, keeping my arms looped around his neck while I took in the house. Italian marble steps. A sweeping spiral staircase. A chandelier that looked like frozen rain. In my last life, I gnawed on stale, moldy bread in a damp basement. In this life, I was the little princess of a multi-million-dollar estate. The disparity between human lives was wider than the gap between a human and a dog. “Are you hungry, Mia?” Jonathan set me down on an oversized velvet sofa and crouched down to my eye level. He really had no idea how to talk to kids. His face was as deadly serious as if he were negotiating a corporate merger. “Starving.” I was being brutally honest. In my last life, I was hungry every single day. When you get used to starving, you eventually stop feeling the hunger. And then you die. “What do you want to eat?” “Lobster.” I held up my little hand, fingers splayed. “Five of them.” I had downgraded from ten to five. I was learning to be a reasonable heiress. Ten minutes later, the private chef didn’t bring out five lobsters. He brought out a feast that covered the entire dining table. Whole Maine lobsters, Alaskan king crab legs, Wagyu beef sashimi, and truffle shavings over foie gras. I sat in a dining chair that swallowed me whole, staring at the mountain of food. The silverware was too heavy; my little hands couldn’t grip the fork properly. Jonathan sat across from me. He watched me struggle for exactly three seconds before he stood up and walked over. He picked up a small silver fork and began clumsily extracting the lobster meat from the shell, placing it piece by piece into my bowl. He moved slowly. His hands were elegant, with long, distinct knuckles—hands meant for signing billion-dollar contracts. And right now, they were meticulously dissecting a crustacean for a five-year-old. “Is it good?” he asked. My mouth was so full of butter-soaked lobster that my cheeks bulged out. I nodded violently. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. It wasn’t me being dramatic. It was the phantom memory of how badly it hurt to starve to death. I swallowed hard and looked up at him. He was intensely focused on shelling the second lobster tail for me. This man. In my last life, my mother tortured him until he broke. He ended up on his knees in the freezing rain, clutching my ashes. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried to save me. It was that my mother wouldn’t let him. Every time he sent people with money, food, or winter coats, my mother would shove it back into their hands while the cameras rolled. “I don’t need your pity, Jonathan Garrison!” Then she would slam the door in their faces, turn around, and hand me a cup of tap water and a piece of stale bread. It wasn’t pride. She was cultivating a tragedy. She needed me to suffer. She needed me to die to complete her masterpiece. “Mia.” Jonathan’s voice pulled me out of my dark thoughts. “Yeah?” “Eat slower. You’ll choke.” He slid a glass of warm milk toward me. I took it with both hands and took a sip. It was sweetened. “When you’re done, I’ll show you your room.” “Okay.” I shoved another piece of crab meat into my mouth. Right at that moment, his phone buzzed on the table. The screen lit up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the caller ID: “Caroline”. Jonathan glanced at it. He didn’t answer. The phone kept vibrating against the wood. He reached over, switched it to silent, and flipped it face down. I paused my chewing for half a second, then went right back to my crab. She was starting. According to the script of my past life, this unanswered call would be followed by twenty-seven massive text messages, every word dripping with manufactured blood and tears. The core message would be: You stole my child. You are a monster. And tomorrow, screenshots of those texts would conveniently leak to the press. But it was fine. I was the one writing the script for this life. After dinner, Jonathan carried me up to the third floor. He pushed open a heavy white door. The room was absurdly large. Soft blush-pink walls, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline, and a four-poster canopy bed that was larger than the entire apartment I had lived in last year. The walk-in closet was already lined with rows of expensive little dresses, the designer tags still dangling from the sleeves. A massive, pristine stuffed rabbit sat propped against the pillows. I stopped in my tracks. “When… when did you get all this?” Jonathan stood in the doorway, suddenly looking very unsure of himself. “I had it prepared a while ago.” “A while ago?” “It’s always been ready.” I knew what he meant. He meant he had been waiting for me to come home. This room hadn’t been thrown together this afternoon by an interior designer on a panic deadline. He had prepared it the day he found out I existed. A sharp ache hit the bridge of my nose. In my last life, this room sat empty for five years, waiting for a little girl who never came. In the end, all it held was a wooden box of ashes. I walked over to the bed, clambered up the mattress, and let myself sink into the absurdly soft duvet. It smelled like lavender and clean cotton. It was so warm. I rolled over, wrapping myself up like a burrito. “Daddy.” “Yes?” “Goodnight.” When he reached out to turn off the light, his movements were incredibly gentle. Just before the door clicked shut, I heard his phone buzz again out in the hallway. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble, but my ears were sharp. “She is staying here. This is not up for debate.” Then the line went dead. I squeezed the stuffed rabbit against my chest, lying in the center of the massive canopy bed, and fell asleep with a smile on my face. 03 When I woke up the next morning, sunlight was pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I laid in the cloud-like bedding for a full ten minutes, just letting myself exist. In my last life, the thing that woke me up every morning was the gnawing pain in my stomach. In this life, I was woken by a maid carrying in a silver breakfast tray. French toast, freshly squeezed orange juice, and a bowl of perfectly tempered oatmeal. Next to the plate was a heavy cardstock note with jagged, messy handwriting: “Good morning, Mia. Daddy had to go to the office. I will be back to have lunch with you.” The pen strokes were heavy, indenting the paper. Some letters had been crossed out and rewritten. It was hilarious that a billionaire CEO wrote like a third grader. No, it wasn’t that. He just wasn’t used to writing something so soft and emotional. I folded the card carefully and tucked it under my pillow. After breakfast, I started wandering around the mansion. There was a heated indoor pool on the first floor. A private home theater on the second. On the third floor, down the hall from my bedroom, was an art studio and an indoor playroom. The toys in the playroom were immaculate. A wooden slide, a sprawling block set, a rocking horse—none of the safety seals had even been broken. Mr. Carson, the butler, shadowed me silently, offering polite explanations when I paused. “Miss Mia, Mr. Garrison had his assistants purchase all of these last year. Please let me know which ones you prefer, and we can have anything you don’t like replaced.” Last year. Last year I was digging through the trash behind a convenience store. I bit my lower lip and didn’t say a word. Just then, a commotion echoed from the grand entrance downstairs. The crunch of tires on gravel, the heavy thud of car doors, and the frantic, hushed footsteps of the staff. “The Dowager Mrs. Garrison has arrived!” Mr. Carson’s face instantly paled. I knew exactly who this was. Evelyn Garrison. Jonathan’s mother, and the iron-fisted matriarch who still pulled the strings of the Garrison empire behind the scenes. In my last life, she was the loudest voice opposing Jonathan bringing me home. Her reasoning was brutally pragmatic: Caroline Frost was a manipulative social climber from the gutter, and there was no guarantee the child was even Garrison blood. Later, after I died and the internet tore the family apart, she had sat in front of the news cameras and squeezed out two tears. Whether those tears were for me or for the plunging stock prices, only God knew. From downstairs came the sharp, rapid clicking of high heels against marble. It was the rhythm of a woman marching in to declare war. I peeked over the mahogany banister. A woman in her late fifties swept into the foyer, wearing a structured, deep emerald dress. Her hair was pulled back into a severe, flawless chignon, and her diamond earrings caught the cold morning light. She radiated an aura of terrifying authority. Trailing half a step behind her was a younger woman. Early twenties, wearing a soft, pastel-colored day dress. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and she had a perfectly practiced, demure smile. My eyes lingered on the younger woman. She hadn’t been in my previous life. But my gut told me she wasn’t here to play nice. “Where is she?” Evelyn’s voice carried up the stairs, sharp and commanding. “Where is the child? Bring her down here so I can look at her.” Mr. Carson glanced up at me, panic in his eyes. I didn’t wait for him to fetch me. I put my hand on the banister and started walking down the sweeping staircase. I didn’t walk fast. Short legs require careful balance. But every step I took was deliberate and heavy. When Evelyn Garrison saw me, her eyes narrowed to slits. She was assessing me. I was assessing her right back. We locked eyes for three full seconds in absolute silence. “So. You are Mia.” “I am Mia Garrison.” I made sure to emphasize the last name. One of her perfectly arched eyebrows twitched upward. “You certainly have his features.” Coming from her, it wasn’t a grandmotherly compliment. It was a forensic observation. “However,” she continued, moving to sit on the central sofa and accepting a teacup from a trembling maid, “looking like him proves nothing. We will be doing a DNA test.” “Okay.” I agreed instantly, without missing a beat. Evelyn clearly didn’t expect that. She probably anticipated a five-year-old to burst into tears, run away, or stare blankly, not knowing what DNA was. But I had already died once. Did she think I was scared of a needle? “I’ll cooperate. You can draw blood, or you can pull my hair.” My voice was deadpan. Calm. Evelyn’s hand paused halfway to her mouth. The teacup hovered in the air as she gave me a second, much harder look. Standing behind her, the younger woman was watching me, too. The smile on her face was magazine-cover perfect. The look in her eyes was ice-cold. “Mrs. Garrison, I can handle the arrangements for the clinic,” the younger woman offered, her voice light and musical. “Go ahead, Camilla.” Camilla Dupont. I filed that name away in the back of my mind. 04 The DNA results came back in three days. Probability of Paternity: 99.99%. There was zero suspense. I was Jonathan Garrison’s biological daughter. Evelyn Garrison stared at the medical report in absolute silence for a long time. She sat in the armchair by the window, her thumb slowly rubbing the edge of the thick paper. The butler, the maids, the security detail—the entire room was holding its breath. Jonathan stood nearby. His face was blank, but I caught the subtle, rapid tapping of his ring finger against his thigh. He was anxious. This piece of paper was the only thing that gave him the absolute, legal right to keep me in this house. “Mother. You have the results,” he finally said. Evelyn lifted her eyes. She looked at him, and then she looked over at me, curled up in the corner of the velvet sofa, quietly eating a bowl of green grapes. “That child cannot go back to that woman.” Her tone was still sharp and unyielding, but the sentence itself was a massive shift. It was a decree of protection. Half of the heavy weight in my chest finally dissipated. The other half, however, stayed right where it was. Because Camilla Dupont was currently walking toward me, holding a glass of juice. “Mia, are you thirsty? I had the chef squeeze some fresh oranges for you.” She knelt down in front of me, her smile dripping with maternal warmth. I took the glass. I sniffed it subtly. It smelled like regular orange juice. No poison. I took a sip. “Thank you, Miss Camilla.” “Call her Auntie,” Evelyn suddenly corrected from across the room. I looked at Camilla, then over at Evelyn. The older woman’s intentions were glaringly obvious. Camilla Dupont wasn’t just a friendly guest. She was the woman Evelyn had handpicked to be Jonathan’s wife. “Auntie Camilla is perfectly fine,” Camilla laughed, trying to smooth over the tension. She reached out and placed a hand on my back. It wasn’t a heavy touch, but her manicured fingers pressed just slightly into my spine. It felt like a territorial claim. Like she was establishing ownership. I didn’t say a word. I just quietly finished my juice. When Camilla stood up and walked back to Evelyn’s side, I tugged on the butler’s sleeve. “Mr. Carson,” I whispered. “Who is that lady?” Mr. Carson leaned down, lowering his voice. “She is the heiress to the Dupont family. They are old family friends of the Garrisons. The Dowager Mrs. Garrison has been trying to arrange a match between her and your father for some time.” Ah. It all made sense now. No wonder she wasn’t in my past life. In my past life, I died in the slums. I never crossed the threshold of the Garrison estate, so I never became a factor in Jonathan’s personal life. But her presence here now was a massive red flag. In the cutthroat world of the ultra-rich, she had all the right cards: family pedigree, the matriarch’s approval, the gentle, accommodating persona. Any of those individually was fine. Put them together, and she was a direct threat to my survival. I didn’t care if she married Jonathan. I cared if she tried to mess with my safety. Jonathan came home for lunch that afternoon. The table was set for four: Jonathan, me, Evelyn, and Camilla. Camilla naturally took the seat directly to Jonathan’s right. She seamlessly anticipated his needs, sliding the salt shaker toward him, offering him a linen napkin before he asked. It was practiced. Routine. Intimate. I sat across from them, eating my food in silence. “Mia.” Camilla smiled across the table at me. “How about Auntie takes you shopping at the mall this afternoon? We can buy you some pretty new dresses.” “I would love that.” I gave her my brightest, most innocent smile. That afternoon, Camilla took me to the most exclusive luxury department store in the city. She picked out six dresses, three pairs of shoes, and two designer backpacks. When we were standing at the register, I noticed something. She positioned herself at a very specific angle. Just beyond the perfume counter, a man in a baseball cap was holding a camera with a telephoto lens, firing off rapid shots. I saw him. And Camilla knew that I saw him. She just smiled down at me. “Which color do you like best, sweetie?” She wasn’t buying me clothes because she cared. She was managing her PR. She was feeding the press a narrative: The graceful socialite stepping in to lovingly care for the billionaire’s newly discovered, traumatized daughter. It was a brilliant chess move. If her engagement to Jonathan went through, she would already be branded as the perfect, angelic stepmother. The media, the public, and Evelyn Garrison would all be entirely on her side. I took the pastel pink dress from her hands and looked up with wide eyes. “Thank you so much, Auntie Camilla.” On the ride back to the estate, I slumped against the leather seats and pretended to fall asleep. Camilla’s phone buzzed. She answered it. She kept her voice low, but the interior of the Maybach was only so big. “…Don’t worry, the kid is easy to manage. She’s five. A few designer dresses and she thinks I’m her best friend. Once I have the ring on my finger, I’ll be the one deciding which wing of the house she sleeps in.” She let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Ignore Caroline Frost. That trashy woman from the gutter isn’t going to make a dent. Honestly, I hope she keeps making a scene. The crazier she acts, the more Jonathan will realize he needs a stable woman like me.” She hung up. I kept my eyes shut tight, but the corners of my mouth curled up into a cold little smirk in the dark. Well played, Camilla. You really think because I’m in a five-year-old’s body, I have a five-year-old’s brain? Don’t worry. I took your dresses. And I just took note of exactly how to destroy you.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “436741”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I sent a text to my online boyfriend: “Off work yet, hubby?” He replied instantly: “Not yet. Give me a minute, be good.” But can someone please tell me… Why is it that the exact message I sent to my online boyfriend… Is the exact same message the mega-star Silas Young just answered on his livestream? I stared at the #1 trending video, my hands shaking. I silently shared it with him, adding a single question mark: “?”. Silas replied quickly: “Sorry, forgot to turn off message notifications.” 1 “Let’s break up. We’re not right for each other.” I held the phone to my ear, looking at the keys to the brand-new Porsche I had just picked up, feeling like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. Today was my two-year anniversary with Julian. I had planned to come clean today and tell him the truth: I was actually a trust-fund kid. And as an anniversary gift, I was going to give him the Porsche he had always dreamed of. Who could have guessed he would dump me instead? “Why?” Julian sneered. “You spend every day obsessing over celebrities. Your Instagram and TikTok are full of Silas Young. And you’re asking me why? Are you my girlfriend, or Silas Young’s?” I tried to argue: “That’s just because Silas had a new movie coming out recently…” Julian cut me off: “I only started gaming in the first place because of you. Now, I’m a top-200 streamer on the whole platform. And you? How long has it been since you played a game with me?” A wave of guilt washed over me. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t bother.” Julian continued, “We’re seniors in college now. You’re an adult. Stop obsessing over celebrities all day and put some effort into your own future.” With that, he hung up. I stared at my phone, unable to articulate the bitterness in my mouth. Is it that I don’t want to put in effort? It’s that I literally don’t need to put in effort! 2 That night, I started doing some soul-searching. Have I really been neglecting Julian too much lately? But… he was the one who was always busy with streaming and his career. If he hadn’t been too busy to spend time with me, I wouldn’t have gotten bored enough to start obsessing over a celebrity. Last month, he even forgot my birthday. I waited at his apartment all night. The next day, he came back with his clothes all wrinkled, acting cute and saying he had a company dinner. He claimed there were a lot of big shots there, and to secure more resources, he drank too much and ended up sleeping in his boss’s office. I was originally angry, but seeing the dark circles under his eyes, I felt bad for him. In high school, because my family was so wealthy, I was used by my best friend. Since college, I’ve always kept a very low profile. After getting together with Julian, knowing he came from an ordinary background, I never told him about my true financial situation to protect his ego. But I couldn’t bear to see him working so hard anymore. Secretly tipping him in his livestream wasn’t enough. So, I ordered the Porsche he had always wanted, planning to come clean on our anniversary, beg for his forgiveness, and give him a huge surprise. When my best friend, Chloe, found out, she mocked me: “Even the most tragic heroines in history would call you pathetic. He makes a bunch of money and buys you a $300 bag, and you turn around and drop $150,000 on a car!” “He’s just being frugal!” I defended him. “He’s wearing a $1,500 Balenciaga jacket.” “He finally made some money, of course he wants to treat himself a little!” Chloe just sneered: “Heh.” I had never experienced much hardship growing up. My biggest setback was in high school, hearing the friend I had practically subsidized talking trash about me behind my back. This led to a situation where I was great at everything… except that I was hopelessly, tragically romantic. That night, I decided to make one last struggle to apologize and get back together with Julian. But before I could send the message, a push notification from the streaming app popped up. “J-God confesses his love live.” ? Who? The J-God I’m thinking of? Who is he confessing to? Me? With trembling hands, I opened Julian’s stream. I watched as the guy who had just dumped me that morning stared earnestly into the camera: “Serena, I like you. Will you be my girlfriend?” My brain buzzed. The live chat was scrolling at light speed, filled with two distinct voices. The first was cheering for this Serena to say yes. The second was exposing Serena’s identity. She was the owner of Julian’s streaming agency. The very same boss whose office he claimed to have slept in last month. Wow. I laughed out of sheer anger. Dumping me in the morning, confessing to someone else at night. This seamless transition speed was faster than a bullet train. 3 Chloe was absolutely furious. “We cannot let him get away with this!” “We definitely won’t.” I might be a hopeless romantic who tends to assume the best in people, but that didn’t mean I was a pushover. If he wanted to make me suffer, he needed to make sure I was actually the suffering type. Back then, Julian only started gaming to pursue me, to have a common interest. But the fact that he got a little famous was also, ironically, because of me. My gaming skills were maxed out. I was a god-tier Akali player in League of Legends, capable of diving into a team fight and getting a Pentakill. After I reached the Challenger tier with Akali on my main account, I used his account to climb the ranks, pushing it to Challenger as well. The game automatically saved the highlight reels. He edited those clips and posted them on TikTok, and unexpectedly, they went viral. From then on, he started streaming, but he never played Akali again. Was it because he didn’t want to? No, it was because he couldn’t. His Akali was thoroughly average, completely incomparable to my mechanics. There were loud doubts at first, but he excused it by saying he wouldn’t play champions he had already taken to Challenger again, and that his game sense and macro play were actually quite good. Plus, he had a handsome face. As time passed, those doubting voices faded away. I was a bit uncomfortable at the time, but Julian had said, “My grades aren’t great. If I wait until graduation, who knows how long it’ll take before I can give you a stable life? Right now, the streaming income is pretty good…” He then bought me a $300 bag. A bag our housekeeper wouldn’t even carry. But I, like a tragic romantic idiot, took that $300 bag and forgave the world. Chloe asked me, “What’s your plan?” “My plan?” I let out a short laugh. “To send him out to eat dirt.” That night, I recorded an Akali gameplay video. The zigzag movement pattern was identical to the viral video Julian had posted back then. Originally, this was an alt account with only a handful of followers; nobody paid attention to it. But I had way too much money. I bought some traffic, and “accidentally” bought my way to the #1 trending spot. The top comment was from Chloe. “This movement looks exactly like J-God’s famous highlight reel.” I replied, deliberately stirring the pot: “How do you know his famous highlight reel was actually played by him?” Julian called me that very night. “Audrey, what exactly are you trying to do?” 4 He actually had the nerve to call me? “Julian, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” “I thought we had already made things very clear.” “Clear?” I scoffed. “You cheated, and then blamed the breakup on me to make me feel guilty. I’ve never been slapped in the face like this.” Julian’s laugh was even more obvious than mine: “Who do you think you are? Audrey, considering we used to be together, I didn’t want to make this ugly. Name your price.” Name a price? Julian was actually asking me to name a price? That sentence jolted me completely awake. Suddenly, everything I had done over the past few days felt absurd and meaningless. I had actually liked a piece of trash like him, and wasted so much time on him. I must have been truly blind. “If I name a price, I’m afraid you won’t be able to afford it!” “Take your filthy money to the grave with you, and never show your face in front of me again!” With that, I hung up directly. Online, I stopped paying for traffic. The topic was clearly suppressed, and the heat died down. The public outcry receded like the tide, gradually disappearing without a trace. After deleting a few posts trying to dox me, Chloe asked what my next move was. I just said I didn’t want to waste another minute on that scumbag. I thought the situation would blow over, but unexpectedly, in the middle of the night, the topic’s popularity suddenly surged again. The reason? The mega-star Silas Young had liked my post. He unliked it half an hour later and posted a half-hearted explanation: “Finger slipped.” To be acknowledged by your own idol in such a way… I was probably the first. The internet was filled with “Hahahaha,” calling Silas cute and happily eating popcorn. But Julian was instantly thrust back into the eye of the storm. The whole internet was saying Julian was a liar, making a huge fuss, demanding he play Akali live to prove his innocence. The next day, I went back to campus to meet with my advisor. As I was walking out, a white BMW blocked my path at the school gates. 5 A slender woman stepped out of the car, looking around thirty years old. She had a great figure, but her makeup was so thick you couldn’t tell what she actually looked like, and her perfume was strong enough to knock someone over. She stood in front of me, looked me up and down, and acted incredibly haughty. “Let me introduce myself. I am Serena Vance.” I hadn’t seen this kind of dramatic scene before, so I froze for a moment. My stunned silence translated as fear in her eyes. She grew even more confident, her tone dripping with contempt: “Julian is a top streamer heavily promoted by our agency, and now, he’s also Serena Vance’s boyfriend. Name a price. How much will it take for you to come forward and clear this up?” I snapped back to reality, feeling it was utterly unbelievable: “Clear what up? What I posted was the truth!” “The truth isn’t that important. Little girl, listen to some advice from an older sister: know when to quit while you’re ahead! You haven’t entered the real world yet; you don’t know how hard it is to make money. The price I can offer you right now is more than you’d make working for ten years without eating or drinking. How about it? Do we have a deal?” “Know when to quit?” I sneered. “Calling me ‘little girl’—you sure didn’t have a problem getting your hands on a ‘little boy.’ You want me to help you clear his name? Keep dreaming!” Serena’s face instantly turned ice cold. “Audrey, is it? You just wait! I’ll make sure you can’t survive in this city!” With that, she brushed past my shoulder, knocking me off balance, turned, got into her car, and sped away. My hand gripping my textbook trembled with anger. A circle of students had gathered to watch the drama, pointing and whispering at me. “What happened?” “Looks like a wife catching a mistress…” I roared: “Mistress my ass! Are you blind?!” The person who just spoke was startled by my sudden outburst, and they hurried away, whispering. I’ve been pampered my whole life. When have I ever suffered this kind of humiliation? Make me unable to survive? Let’s see who fails to survive first. I pulled out my phone and called my brother. “Connor, I want to acquire a streaming agency.” “Well, look who finally called me.” Connor chuckled. “Sure, not just one. You can acquire ten if you want.” 6 My brother moved fast. In less than a month, the contract was placed in black and white right in front of me. The streaming agency Julian was signed to wasn’t very large; he was their star gaming streamer. Looking at the few pages of the contract and their small company’s annual financial report, I truly didn’t understand where Serena got the confidence to challenge me. My brother tapped the contract with his finger: “What’s the plan next? Want your big brother to take you for a spin around your new company?” “It’s not time yet,” I said. “We’re not going to find them. I’m going to make them come begging to me.” Connor rubbed my head: “You really are pissed off.” Damn right I was. I almost died of anger. My brother had recently taken over the family business and was very busy. He didn’t stay long before leaving. I was going to implement the next step of my plan. First, I screenshotted my chat history with Julian, including the times I bought him gifts and my transfer receipts. Although I pretended to be poor, the amounts weren’t large, but they were consistent. And his replies… were few. The further down I scrolled, the more I realized that the signs of his infidelity had been there all along. For the past few months, I had been the one initiating conversations, and his replies weren’t just impatient, they were incredibly perfunctory. I had been so blinded by love that I didn’t even recognize his cold violence. After saving the chat logs, I prepared to open the game and record another Akali gameplay. Last time, some people doubted if I was really the one playing. This time, I was going to use three camera angles and record a full, unedited version. Before I could open the game, a message notification popped up. It was from someone I hadn’t contacted in years. S-Boy: “Quite the drama.” I replied: “Here to laugh at me?” “How could I? I told you long ago that guy was no good.” Seeing that sentence, my eyes inexplicably teared up. 7 I met S-Boy through gaming. Two years ago, I had a lot of free time in college. Aside from classes, I barely participated in any extracurriculars, using all my time to climb the ranks. After my main assassin reached the top tier, I couldn’t resist trying the support role, so I picked a healing champion. Although I usually played damage dealers, I had good game sense and knew champion skills well, so playing support wasn’t hard for me. But the ADC on my team was terribly incompetent. Their pacing and mechanics were a total mess. Before reaching level four, they had already been ganked and killed twice. I couldn’t save them before I hit level four either, and the gold gap widened instantly. Before I could say anything, the ADC spoke up first. ADC: “A girl?” “Only knows how to play support? Getting carried up the ranks, right?” “So annoying getting girls in my games.” He was incredibly toxic, and my anger flared up immediately. “With a 0/2/0 score right at the start, you have the nerve to talk trash?” “What’s wrong with being a girl? Sprinkle some birdseed on the screen and a chicken pecking at it would play better than you.” “Even the grim reaper can’t save a ghost rushing to die. Forgot what kind of trash you are, huh, you little punk?” ADC: “Heh.” Then followed a string of asterisk symbols, and he was finally muted by the system. The ADC eventually gave up and went AFK in the base. I was about to say something else when the Jungler spoke up: “Support, come follow me.” I was stunned: “But you’re playing a stealth assassin.” The assassin’s most crucial skill was invisibility. I wasn’t as good at support as I was at jungle, and I was worried a misstep would reveal his position. “It’s fine,” the assassin used voice chat this time. His voice was young and pleasant: “The enemy team comp can’t handle the late game.” I glanced at the enemy team, realized he was right, and followed right behind the assassin, helping him check vision in the jungle and shielding him during team fights. The assassin’s ID: S-Boy Invincible. Facts proved he really was somewhat invincible. When the game ended, the assassin dealt 50% of the team’s total damage, hard-carrying that toxic ADC to victory. I added him as a friend and thanked him. S-Boy Invincible: “You’re welcome. Just helping out against injustice.” I had a sudden idea: “Wanna climb the ranks together? I’m a Jungle god, my Akali is slick.” S-Boy waited a while before replying: “Challenger Jungler? Impressive.” Me: “Just love the feeling of carrying.” I said, inviting S-Boy into a lobby. Then, remembering something, I asked: “But do you main Jungle? Will I be stealing your role?” This time S-Boy used voice chat again. His tone had a hint of arrogant cockiness typical of young boys: “Nope. I play everything.” 8 After that day, I added S-Boy on WeChat. He never posted anything personal on his moments, just shared various indie songs. During that time, we played games together almost every day. 1v1s to practice new champions, sending each other skins; later, we occasionally shared life updates and sent each other gossip threads. S-Boy had a nice voice, was patient and sunny. He sounded very young, but whether it was in the game or talking, you could tell he was quite mature. Once, during my period, S-Boy invited me to play, but I wasn’t online. Knowing I wasn’t feeling well, he directly asked for my address and ordered me brown sugar ginger tea and some warm, nourishing soup. My roommate, Candy, saw me smiling dreamily and knocked me on the head: “You’re in love! Why are you smiling so creepily?” I argued: “How is it creepy!” Candy looked at the table full of food: “Who ordered it? Must be that guy you game with every day, right?” I didn’t deny it. Candy was incredulous: “Are you crazy! Giving out your address and contact info so easily? Across an internet cable, do you really know what kind of person he is? What if he’s a creep?” “He doesn’t seem like a creep…” “How doesn’t he? Because he’s good at games?” Her words left me speechless and suddenly brought me back to reality. Yeah, I didn’t even know S-Boy’s real name. What kind of person was he in real life? He sounded young—was he a college student too? Candy sighed: “Audrey, no matter what, he’s a person behind a screen. It’s hard to say what he’s really like. Look at all those stories online… Ugh, stop burying yourself in games all day! Return to the real world! Tomorrow, your big sister is taking you to watch a basketball game.” I hesitated for a moment, then nodded: “Okay.” It was at that basketball game that I saw Julian for the first time. Before the game, Candy took me over to say hi, and his eyes kept darting my way. Until the game ended, he sank the final three-pointer, the crowd erupted in cheers, and he instinctively looked toward my side of the court. 9 After that day, Julian launched a fierce pursuit of me. Every morning, he delivered breakfast to the girls’ dorm, saved seats for us in class. He practically bribed my entire dorm room. Candy dramatically lifted my bed curtain to investigate: “How are things with Julian?” I lay there and casually replied: “Nothing much.” Candy: “Comrade, you still need to work harder.” Candy added: “But I’ve noticed you haven’t been gaming much these past few days.” I sighed. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to play, it was that S-Boy hadn’t been around lately. I had gotten used to climbing the ranks with him during this period. When he wasn’t there, my designated gaming time felt empty. Playing alone felt surprisingly boring, and I was momentarily lost, not knowing what to do. I stared at my chat log with S-Boy. We used to chat every day, but this time, it stopped last night. I asked him if he wanted to play, and he said he was too busy with work lately and apologized. So he was already working… “Damn it!” My roommate, Fish, cursed from the bunk below. “Silas Young actually got hurt!” “Who?” Candy popped her head out. “That actor who’s really popular right now?” “Yeah,” Fish said. “Too many action scenes, he injured his leg. Waaaah, he was hospitalized yesterday, and fans have been hounding the studio all day until they released a statement. My poor baby, Mommy’s heart aches.” Candy rolled her eyes at Fish’s maternal fandom terminology. It went in one ear and out the other for me; I didn’t take it to heart. Right at that moment, Julian suddenly sent me a WeChat message: “Wanna play a game together?” I glanced at the inactive chat with S-Boy and replied: “Sure.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “436710”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When the parent-teacher conference wrapped up, I didn’t head for the parking lot. Instead, I crouched down until I was eye-level with my son and asked him, in the softest voice I could muster, what the “other daddy” in his essay looked like. Jamie tilted his head, his eyes wide and innocent. He told me it was the man Mommy took him to see every week. Mommy told him he had to call the man “Daddy,” too. At the school gates, Rachel was leaning against the SUV, a practiced, effortless smile on her face. She asked me if the teacher liked Jamie’s creative writing piece. I rolled the notebook into a tight cylinder and tucked it deep into my messenger bag. I looked up at her, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. “I’ll let you read it yourself when we get home,” I said. The silence in that classroom when the teacher had read Jamie’s essay aloud was something I would never forget. It was a heavy, suffocating weight. “I have two daddies,” Jamie had written in his messy, seven-year-old scrawl. “One lives in my house. The other lives in Mommy’s other house.” A few parents had let out stifled, awkward chuckles. The teacher had frozen, her face turning a vivid shade of pink before she hurriedly flipped to the next page. I had been sitting in the very last row. The plastic water bottle in my hand let out a sharp, rhythmic crackle as I squeezed it, the sound echoing in my ears like a slow-motion car crash. 1. Rachel drove us home. She kept one hand on the steering wheel, casual and relaxed, while the other adjusted the stereo to play Jamie’s favorite Disney soundtrack. Jamie hummed along in the backseat. I felt her eyes dart toward me three times in the rearview mirror. I didn’t look back once. I just watched the suburban landscape blur into a smear of gray and green. Once we were home, Jamie went to wash his hands for dinner. I sat on the sofa and pulled the notebook out. The lead pencil marks were shaky, the letters uneven. “There is a man at Mommy’s other house. He is very nice. He makes me cupcakes. Mommy says he is my daddy, too, and I have to call him that. He is very, very thin. He plays the guitar.” Below the text, there was a drawing. A gaunt man sitting in a wheelchair. Beside him stood a woman, composed and elegant. The woman was holding the hand of a small boy. Above the boy’s head, Jamie had drawn a bright red heart. I snapped the notebook shut and set it on the coffee table. Rachel emerged from the kitchen, handing me a glass of water. “So, what did the teacher actually say?” “She said Jamie has a vivid imagination. A real gift for expression.” She smiled, sitting down beside me, her thigh brushing mine. “That’s good to hear.” I looked at her—really looked at her—and realized I didn’t recognize the woman sitting in my living room. We’d been married for seven years. We’d been together since our sophomore year of college. Nearly a decade. Her smile was the same as it had always been: the faint crinkle at the corners of her eyes, the way her lips curved upward in a way that looked entirely sincere. But as I watched her, I noticed her gaze flickering toward the notebook on the table. Her right thumb mindlessly rubbed her wedding band, back and forth. I knew that gesture. She did it every single time she was lying. “Rachel.” “Yeah?” “Who is the man Jamie wrote about in his essay?” The hand holding her water glass hitched for a fraction of a second. Then, she took a perfectly natural sip. “What man? You know how kids are, Dan. He’s probably making up stories based on a cartoon.” “He said you told him to call this man ‘Daddy’.” “Oh, that must have been one of my colleagues,” she said, her voice smooth, not a single tremor. “I took Jamie to a team-building retreat a few months ago. One of the guys was probably just teasing him. You know how work friends can be.” It was too easy. Too rehearsed. I nodded and didn’t push. That night, after she tucked Jamie into bed, I sat in the darkened living room and accessed the cloud backup for her car’s dashcam. The GPS history told a story of its own. Every Thursday afternoon, the car stopped at an old, gated apartment complex on the edge of the city. Arrival: 2:00 PM. Departure: 6:00 PM. Four hours. Every single week. I took a screenshot and saved it to a hidden folder on my phone. At 2:00 AM, thinking I was fast asleep, Rachel leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. Then, she crept out to the balcony. Through the glass door, I heard her hushed, melodic voice. “Don’t be scared,” she whispered. “I’ll be there tomorrow morning to take you for your check-up.” The tone was tender, aching with a kind of devotion she used to reserve only for me. No. That wasn’t right. It was a tone I thought she only used for me. The next day, I took a half-day off work and went to the bank. I pulled the last six months of her personal account statements. There it was. A recurring transfer of twelve hundred dollars every month to an account owned by someone named Quinn Lawson. Six months. Not a single payment missed. I sat on the cold plastic chair in the bank lobby, my legs shaking uncontrollably. I pulled a black moleskine notebook from my bag, turned to a fresh page, and wrote down the name and the amount. My handwriting was so neat it frightened me. That afternoon, I drove to the address on the GPS. I stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the first-floor balcony. A woman’s white silk blouse was hanging there to dry. It was the one I had ironed for her last month—the one with the hidden snap-button I’d sewn back on myself. An elderly man walking his dog passed by and stopped when he saw me staring. “You must be Rachel’s brother,” he said, offering a friendly nod. “Yeah,” I lied. “Something like that.” “She’s a saint, that sister of yours. Her husband’s health is so poor—being in that wheelchair can’t be easy—but she’s here every day, cooking for him, taking care of the place. You come from a good family.” Her husband. I managed a tight, hollow smile. “Yeah. She’s always been the devoted type.” That evening, Rachel came home carrying a box from my favorite bakery—a salted caramel cake. I sat at the dining table, methodically slicing it. She kicked off her heels and asked why I was so quiet. I didn’t look up. “The cuffs on that white blouse of yours are starting to fray,” I said. “You should probably wear something else tomorrow.” 2. She glanced at her sleeves and laughed. “I must have snagged them on a filing cabinet at the office. I’ll be more careful.” She looked so innocent. So transparently honest that I almost wondered if I was the one losing my mind. That weekend, Jamie was drawing at the coffee table. He drew a thin man in a wheelchair. I walked over. “Who’s this, buddy?” “That’s Quinn,” Jamie said, not looking up from his crayons. “Mommy says he’s the loneliest person in the world. She says we have to take care of him like he’s family.” Family. I ruffled his hair and said nothing. After dinner, I was at the sink, the water running at full blast to drown out the noise of my own thoughts. My father-in-law, Walter, was standing by the back door, nursing a beer. I kept my voice casual. “Hey, Walter. Jamie keeps talking about some guy named Quinn. Do you know him?” The beer bottle slipped from Walter’s hand, thudding onto the rug. He was slow to pick it up, his eyes darting toward the hallway before they settled anywhere but on me. “Quinn… look, Dan, Rachel is a loyal girl. Her mother went through a lot back in the day, and Quinn’s family… they were there for us. We owe them. Rachel is just paying back a debt of honor. As her husband, you need to be big enough to understand that.” I turned off the faucet. I leaned my weight against the cold marble countertop. Everyone knew. From the beginning, I was the only one left in the dark. I was the only clown in this circus. On Monday, I took Jamie to the clinic for his allergy meds. As we passed the oncology wing, I saw her. Rachel was pushing a wheelchair. In it sat a skeletal man, wrapped in a thick wool blanket, leaning his head against her hip. Rachel stopped, took off her own cardigan, and draped it over his legs. She knelt down, meticulously tucking the edges around his feet. The movements were so practiced, so intimate. I stood behind a concrete pillar ten yards away, clutching Jamie’s prescription bag. My nails dug into the drywall until I expected to see blood, but I felt nothing. Just a cold, terminal numbness. A nurse pushed a cart between us, blocking my view. By the time she passed, Rachel seemed to sense something. She turned her head, searching the corridor. But I was already gone, disappearing into the stairwell. When I got back to the office, I called Patrick, an old friend from college who ran a forensic accounting firm. “Pat, I need to know how to track marital assets. Deep dive. Can you walk me through it?” There was a three-second silence on the other end. “Come over tonight,” Patrick said. “I’ll give it to you straight.” Rachel came home late that night. She wrapped her arms around me from behind while I stood in the kitchen. She pressed her face into my back, her voice muffled and weary. “Dan… only when I’m holding you do I feel like I can finally breathe.” I closed my eyes. I didn’t reach back to touch her. Her warmth radiated through my shirt, the same as it always had. But I knew that just hours ago, that same warmth had been draped over another man. 3. Rachel started “traveling for work” more frequently. Tuesdays, Thursdays, sometimes the whole weekend. I went to work, I made school lunches, and at night, when she was dead to the world, I photographed every single record on her phone. I found a real estate contract in her archived emails. Cash purchase. A two-bedroom condo, registered in Walter’s name. The address was in the same complex where I’d seen her. Same building. Same unit. I snapped the photo and saved it. On the third day of her “trip,” I received an anonymous text. “Some love is a burden, and some love is a gift. Rachel is exhausted. She needs a harbor that understands her.” I read it twice. I didn’t reply. Screenshot. Archive. Getting into a mud-slinging match with a coward wasn’t worth my time. That Thursday night, the world broke. Jamie woke up with a fever of 104. He was shaking, his lips turning a terrifying shade of blue. I called Rachel. First time: Voicemail. Second time: Voicemail. Third time: The cold, mechanical voice of the operator. I ran into the pouring rain, carrying Jamie wrapped in a blanket. He was delirious, sobbing against my neck, his tears and saliva soaking into my skin. The rain was a deluge; no Uber was coming, and cabs wouldn’t stop. I stripped off my jacket to shield him, standing on the curb in my shirtsleeves for eight agonizing minutes. Finally, an old van pulled over. The driver said he didn’t usually take passengers, but I looked desperate. At the ER, I was a whirlwind of motion—registering, paying, holding Jamie down for blood work. The nurse asked where the mother was. “It’s just me,” I said. By 4:00 AM, Jamie’s fever finally broke. He fell into a fitful sleep. I walked to the pharmacy window to pick up his meds, and that’s when I saw her. Rachel came sprinting through the ER lobby, soaked to the bone, her face a mask of panic. Her sweater was on inside out, the tag flapping at the neck. For a heartbeat, I thought she was looking for us. Then I heard her voice at the pharmacy counter. “Quinn Lawson. He’s having stomach pains. The ER doctor sent over a prescription.” She was standing less than fifteen feet away. She was in a state of total collapse because of another man’s stomach ache. While her own son had just spent the last four hours fighting for his life. Then Walter appeared, jogging down the hallway, grabbing Rachel’s arm. “Is Quinn okay? You need to get back in there with him. He’s depressed, Rachel. Don’t let him do anything stupid.” He didn’t see me. Or perhaps, in his world, I simply didn’t exist anymore. I stood there by the window, clutching Jamie’s fever reducers, watching a father and daughter worry themselves sick over another man. My hands weren’t shaking. My eyes were dry. But I felt something deep in my chest shatter. It was a clean break. There was nothing left to salvage. At 7:00 AM, Rachel finally saw my missed calls. She burst into the pediatric ward, her eyes bloodshot, her voice trembling. “Dan, I’m so sorry! My phone died, and the office had a massive emergency, and I—” I sat by the bed and slowly pushed her reaching hand away. I pulled a wet wipe from my bag and began to clean my fingers, one by one. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice so quiet I could barely hear it. “Just don’t turn your phone off next time.” She froze, her mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out. Jamie woke up and reached for me. Rachel moved to pick him up, her eyes filling with tears. As I watched her hold our son, all I could think about was whether she had used that same expression while holding Quinn Lawson. 4. For the next two weeks, I was a ghost. I went to work. I cooked dinner. I spoke to her in pleasant, even tones. But behind the scenes, I moved every cent of my personal savings into my mother’s account. I applied for a six-month editorial project overseas, and my boss approved it. I met with Patrick and finalized a list of every asset Rachel had hidden. She didn’t suspect a thing. She thought I had swallowed her lies. On our seventh anniversary, she booked a table at the most expensive French restaurant in the city. The booth was covered in roses and candlelight. She slid a velvet box across the table. A luxury watch. Not cheap. She looked at me with an intensity that would have moved me to tears if I didn’t know the truth. “Dan… once this busy season at work is over, I want to take you and Jamie to see the Northern Lights. We can start over. A fresh chapter. Okay?” Her voice was thick, her fingers trembling as they touched mine. I looked at her and felt a surge of pure, unadulterated absurdity. How could someone be so betrayed to their very bones and still act this sincere? I nodded. “Okay. I’ll wait for you.” The moment the words left my lips, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, and her face went ghostly white. Her breathing hitched. I continued cutting my steak, not looking up. “If it’s an emergency, you should go.” She didn’t move. I set my fork down and locked eyes with her. “But Rachel, if you walk out that door tonight, we’re done.” Her body went rigid. Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. Then, she closed her eyes, and a broken whisper escaped her lips. “Quinn… he slit his wrists. I owe him his life, Dan. I’m sorry. I promise, this is the last time.” She stood up, the chair screeching against the floor like a dying animal. She turned and ran. The door swung shut behind her, the candlelight flickering in the wake of her departure. I sat alone at the long, empty table. I cut the rare steak into small, precise pieces and forced them into my mouth. I chewed slowly, my throat aching as I swallowed. The sound of my silver clinking against the china was the only noise in the room. After I paid the bill, I drove to the apartment complex. It was 11:00 PM. The autumn wind bit at my face like a blade. I stood beneath the first-floor window, peering through a gap in the curtains. There was no blood. No slit wrists. Rachel was sitting on the sofa. Quinn was cradled in her arms, his head resting on her shoulder. Walter was coming out of the kitchen with a plate of sliced fruit, a warm smile on his face. And my son, Jamie, was curled up against Quinn’s legs. He looked up and said something that shattered the last of my resolve. “Daddy, don’t be mad at Mommy anymore. We’re a family forever.” Rachel looked down at them, a weary, indulgent smile on her face. It was a perfect family portrait. A family of four. My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat. I doubled over, clutching my knees, retching into the darkness, but nothing came up. I stood there in the shadows, looking down at the wedding band on my left hand. Seven years. The gold had worn a faint, permanent mark into my skin. I slid it off. I looked at it for two seconds. Then I leaned down and dropped it into the storm drain at my feet. The ring hit the iron grate with a sharp, final clink. Rachel, you owe him your life? Fine. Pay him back with your own. I’m officially out of the debt-collection business.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “436726”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel