Category: English

  • He Kept Me Blind So I’d Never Leave Him

    I’ve had severe eye problems since childhood. I couldn’t even see people’s faces clearly. My husband Ethan Bennett, an ophthalmologist, worked himself until his hair turned white trying to formulate special medication for me. Everyone envied me for finding such a good man, saying he was my salvation. Until his birthday party, when I returned from the restroom and overheard him talking to the people around him. “You think I actually want to cure her?” “That little eye problem of hers is nothing serious at all. Any random medication could relieve it.” “I just want to keep her from seeing clearly, make her dependent on me, make it so she can’t live without me.” The people around him burst into laughter. Someone teased him. “Dr. Bennett, that’s pretty ruthless. But I have to say, she’s really obedient—like a dog.” My blood seemed to freeze instantly. All these years, because I couldn’t see clearly, I kept tripping while walking and being laughed at by strangers. Because I couldn’t see clearly, I couldn’t find work and could only depend on him to survive. Because I couldn’t see clearly, I missed out on so much, and couldn’t even remember what I looked like. I thought it was fate being cruel to me. But I never imagined that all of this was personally orchestrated by the man I loved so deeply. I didn’t go back into the private room. I turned around and sent an email. “Professor Lewis, book me a plane ticket. I agree to go to France for the experimental eye treatment.”

    I gripped my phone and turned to fumble my way out. But the next second, someone called out from behind me. It was Ethan. “Where are you going? The guests are still waiting for you. How can you just leave without telling me?” I couldn’t see his face clearly. I could only identify the direction by his familiar voice. My whole body trembled uncontrollably. “I… I’m not feeling well. I want to go home first.” “Not feeling well?” Ethan’s tone instantly turned cold. “Today is my birthday. As my wife, how can you leave without permission? Come inside with me and greet the senior colleagues.” I instinctively shrank back, resisting strongly. I couldn’t see the wine glasses clearly, couldn’t see the faces of the people across from me, and was terrified of dropping the glass and embarrassing myself, being laughed at, being despised by him. Over all these years, I’d embarrassed myself enough because of my eye condition. I begged in a low voice, my tone carrying a sob. “I can’t do it. I can’t see clearly. I’ll mess it up. Please don’t force me…” These words seemed to completely ignite his anger. Curious glances from nearby guests were already being cast our way, and whispers could faintly be heard. Ethan felt like I was trampling his dignity underfoot. His grip on my wrist suddenly tightened. “I said go, so you go. What? Are you refusing to listen to me now?” During the struggle, someone grabbed Ethan’s arm. “Dr. Bennett, don’t be angry. Nora has vision problems, so mistakes are inevitable. Don’t hold it against her.” It was Vivian, a new intern nurse at the hospital. As soon as she finished speaking, she deliberately leaned close to my ear and provoked me in a voice only we could hear. “Nora, you’re so useless. You can’t even walk steadily or toast properly.” “You should let go sooner rather than later. Don’t hold Dr. Bennett back.” My whole body stiffened. Not only did Ethan not push her away, he reached up and ruffled her hair, then turned to look at me. “Look at Vivian—thoughtful and capable. She’s so much better than you.” Familiar words, familiar tactics. I instantly recalled the past. He was always like this, deliberately being nice to other women in front of me, deliberately saying things to provoke me. All just to see me get jealous, panicked, crying and begging him not to leave. To see me become even more dependent on him, more obedient to him, like a dog tied to his side. In the past, I was afraid he would really abandon me, afraid of falling back into endless darkness. Every time I would obediently lower my head and beg for mercy, tightly clutching the corner of his clothes, following his every command. But now, I only found it laughable, and felt a bone-chilling cold. My heart was already dead. No matter how much he provoked me, it couldn’t stir the slightest ripple. I kept my eyes lowered. I didn’t cry, didn’t make a scene, and didn’t beg for mercy as I usually would. My composure completely enraged Ethan. He couldn’t stand me ignoring him like this, breaking free from his control. Irritation instantly swept through his entire body. He snatched a glass of red wine from a nearby server’s tray. Without allowing any argument, he pinched my chin and forcefully brought the wine glass to my lips. “Drink it.” I turned my head to dodge, but he roughly gripped my chin and forcibly poured it in. The harsh alcohol choked into my windpipe. I suddenly coughed violently, my whole body trembling. Tears streamed down uncontrollably, and even breathing became difficult. In the chaos, I vaguely felt his fingertips pause slightly, and a trace of extremely faint panic seemed to flash through his eyes. But that bit of panic wasn’t out of heartache—it was just his obsessive possessiveness at work. He never cared whether I was in pain, only whether I was still obedient enough, still dependent enough on him. The coughing gradually subsided. I slowly straightened up, with only one thought in my mind— I need to leave this place.

    The birthday party didn’t continue. Ethan dragged me home. The burning pain in my throat hadn’t subsided, and my wrist ached and throbbed where he’d gripped it. I curled up in the passenger seat, not daring to make a sound. I just hoped to get home quickly and stay away from him. As soon as we entered the house, he let go of my hand and walked straight to the study. I supported myself against the wall and slowly made my way to the living room. Everything before my eyes was a blur—I couldn’t even see the outline of the sofa clearly. Darkness wrapped around me with a chill, swallowing me whole. In the past, I would always fearfully chase after him, softly coaxing him, begging him not to ignore me. But now, all that remained was a heart full of deathly silence. I didn’t sleep all night. The next morning, I fumbled my way out of bed. My vision was filled with blurry overlapping shadows. Unsteady on my feet, I crashed hard into the corner of the dining table. A sharp pain shot through my forehead, and warm liquid seemed to seep down along my skin. I gasped in pain and supported myself on the table for a long time before fumbling toward the drawer to get medicine. Just as I reached out my hand, my wrist was pressed down by someone. Ethan was standing in front of me at some point, holding a medicine bottle in his hand. “You didn’t obey last night, so you deserve to get hurt.” He held the medicine bottle high. “Remember, without my permission, you don’t even have the right to take medicine.” I covered my dizzy forehead, my whole body trembling uncontrollably. Years of submission were carved into my bones. Even though my heart was dead, my body still remembered fear. I bit my lip and squeezed out a sentence in a low voice. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.” Only then did he snort coldly and casually toss the medicine bottle aside. The glass bottle hit the floor and rolled somewhere unknown. “Pick it up yourself.” I knelt on the floor, fumbling randomly across the floor, my fingertips brushing through dust, utterly disheveled. And Ethan just stood there, watching me crawl on the ground like a dog. Not until I found the medicine and took it could I barely see things. Ethan knelt down and hugged me. “Nora, I didn’t mean to. I’m just afraid you’ll leave me. I just love you too much.” He held me tightly, but I only felt chilled to the bone. Before long, the doorbell rang. Vivian walked in carrying a bag. “Is Dr. Bennett not home? I came to ask about some work matters.” I moved aside to let her in and gestured for her to come in. But the next second, she poured the coffee she was holding all over me from above. My hand immediately swelled and turned red, with blisters visibly forming. Vivian immediately put on an innocent expression. “I’m so sorry, Nora. I didn’t mean to. You have vision problems, so you really shouldn’t walk around randomly.” “Otherwise you might hurt yourself again. Dr. Bennett cares about you so much—he definitely wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.” Every word she said was highlighting my uselessness, highlighting her importance in his heart. As soon as she finished speaking, Ethan walked out of the study. Seeing the mess on the floor and my red, scalded hand, he frowned. But it wasn’t directed at Vivian—he was angry at me. “Who told you to walk around? I told you, just stay put obediently and you don’t need to do anything. But you wouldn’t listen.” “Now you’re hurt. Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you again?” I was sweating all over from the pain and couldn’t say a word. But he quickly walked over and carefully examined Vivian’s hand. “Did you get burned? Are you okay?” From beginning to end, he didn’t look at me once. But when he turned to pour water for Vivian, in my blurry vision, I caught him quickly glancing at my wound. I just found it laughable. Late at night, after he fell asleep, I fumbled in the dark to the nightstand and quietly took out my backup phone. With trembling fingers, I messaged Professor Lewis in France, confirming the flight time and details of the eye experiment. Just as the message was about to send, the bedroom light suddenly turned on. Ethan was standing by the bed at some point, his eyes frighteningly sinister. He snatched my phone away. Just glimpsing the words “plane ticket” and “France,” his face instantly turned ashen. “Nora Sullivan, you want to escape?”

    He suddenly smashed the phone hard on the floor. The screen shattered instantly. Then he reached out and gripped my throat tightly, with so much force I couldn’t breathe. “Let me tell you, you’ll never escape me in this lifetime!” “Even if you’re blind for life, you have to stay by my side. You can only die in front of me!” The suffocating feeling engulfed me like a tide. In my ears was his crazy roar. My vision was turning black. My hands flailed at his arm, but I couldn’t muster any strength. The fear of death seized me instantly. I jolted awake. I can’t die like this. I haven’t cured my eyes yet. I haven’t completely escaped from him. I used my last bit of strength to squeeze words from my throat. “I… I won’t run anymore…” Ethan’s hand suddenly loosened. I fell back onto the bed, gasping for air. “Really won’t run?” His eyes were sinister, still disbelieving. I nodded forcefully. “Really. I won’t leave you. I can’t live without you…” I had to stabilize him first. Only then would I have a chance. But he didn’t believe my submission at all, only taking it as false compliance. The next second, he roughly pulled me up and dragged me toward the door. I couldn’t see the way and stumbled, being forcibly dragged by him downstairs to the apartment complex. There weren’t many people in the evening, but there were still quite a few people walking around, their gazes all turning toward us. Ethan pushed me into the middle of the crowd, his voice as cold as ice. “Say it loudly: I can’t live without Ethan Bennett. I’m a worthless person who can’t live without him.” I stood frozen in place, my blood running cold. Years of inferiority, humiliation, and scenes of being laughed at by others all flooded back in an instant. I bit my lip hard, refusing to speak. “Won’t say it?” He suddenly gripped my wrist tightly. “Say it!” The surrounding chatter grew louder. Curious, contemptuous, and spectating gazes densely pierced into me. Just like all those gazes that had mocked me for my eye condition in the past—glaring and scorching. I practically shouted it out through tears, shame and humiliation completely drowning me. My whole body went limp. I could barely stand. I just wanted to escape from here as quickly as possible. “I can’t live without Ethan Bennett… I’m a worthless person who can’t live without him…” Passersby pointed and whispered, laughing, shaking their heads, talking amongst themselves. I felt like I was standing naked in front of everyone, my dignity trampled and ground to dust beneath his feet. Only then did Ethan let go with satisfaction, watching my disheveled, tear-stained appearance with pathological satisfaction in his eyes. When we got home, I was like someone whose soul had been extracted, sitting blankly on the sofa all night. In a daze, I recalled the past—how I knocked over shelves in the supermarket because I couldn’t see clearly, and was cursed at by staff who called me blind. How children in the neighborhood surrounded me, threw pebbles at me, and laughed at my crooked walk. Even distant relatives, when they saw me, would privately say I was a burden, a useless invalid. Back then, I always thought my eye condition had ruined everything. That Ethan was kind enough to take me in and care for me. He wouldn’t let me go out, so I obediently stayed home. He wouldn’t let me interact with outsiders, so I cut off all social contact. He said to take medicine on time, so I never dared miss a dose. He would watch me being mocked by others, then hold me in his arms. Saying “Don’t be afraid, I’m here,” making me increasingly dependent on him, obedient to him. He gradually cut off all my social connections and confiscated my documents. I became his possession, without self, without dignity, with only him filling my heart. But now I understand—his protection wasn’t love, it was to cage me into being more obedient. His gentleness wasn’t tenderness, it was to make me more devoted in my dependence.

    From that day on, I stopped resisting him and obeyed his every command as before. When he asked me to toast at gatherings again, I no longer declined or cried and begged. People around praised how well Dr. Bennett had trained his wife. Ethan looked at me with eyes full of satisfaction at controlling everything. When he told me to stay in the room and not come out, I sat quietly by the bed, not fussing or making noise, not touching anything. When Vivian came to the house again to provoke me, deliberately dropping things at my feet and making cutting remarks. I didn’t get angry either. I just silently bent down to pick them up and even got up to pour her a cup of hot tea. “Vivian, have some tea.” Vivian was stunned for a moment and actually lost interest in continuing to make things difficult for me. Ethan saw all of this and was extremely satisfied. He felt I had finally been completely tamed, completely dependent on him, and his tense nerves gradually relaxed. He began to no longer watch me every second. Sometimes he would bring Vivian to the hospital. He would casually mention it on the phone, wanting to see me panic with jealousy. I deliberately said jealous things, and he would be overjoyed. Gradually, he returned to his previous temperament and no longer watched me constantly. Late at night, after he fell asleep, I pulled out the backup phone I’d hidden in the pillowcase. The one he’d smashed before was just a decoy. This was the one I’d secretly prepared long ago. My fingertips trembled as I fumbled across the screen, confirming tomorrow morning’s flight, the gate number, and the person who would meet me at the airport. The moment the message was successfully sent, my tense heart finally relaxed a bit. I packed the simplest luggage in the dark and hid the few documents and cash I had close to my body. Then I felt for his usual medicine bottle and emptied all the pills inside. I replaced them with identical-looking vitamin tablets and gently put it back in place. Ethan probably hadn’t seen me so obedient in so long that a trace of unease stirred in his heart. Before bed the next day, he suddenly pinched my chin, his tone probing. “Tomorrow I’ll take you to the hospital to check your eyes and see if there’s any improvement.” He wasn’t concerned about my eyes—he just wanted to check if I had any rebellious intentions. I raised my head. My vision was still blurry, but I actively reached out to hold his arm. “Okay, I’ll do whatever you say.” He completely let down his guard and pulled me into his arms, his chin resting on top of my head, his tone rarely gentle. “Nora, when I’m done with work, I’ll take you to see the ocean. You’ve always wanted to see what the sea looks like clearly, haven’t you?” I leaned against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. There wasn’t a ripple in my heart. I just nodded lightly. “Okay, I’ll do whatever you say.” He closed his eyes wearily and soon fell into a deep sleep, but his brow was still slightly furrowed, as if even in his dreams he feared I would escape. After confirming his breathing was even and he was sleeping deeply. Only then did I dare to carefully push his hand away bit by bit. Following the route I’d memorized over countless days and nights. I fumbled my way out of bed, avoiding the bed frame, chairs, and TV cabinet, moving step by step to the bedroom door and gently closing it. Without turning on lights, without making a sound. Like a shadow, I crossed the living room alone in the darkness and opened the front door. This was the first time in so many years I’d walked out of this cage alone without his support. My vision was still blurry, but my steps had never been so determined. At the entrance to the complex, the lights of a rideshare car glowed in the night. The driver called out my name. I slowly got into the car following the sound. “To the airport.” The car started and slowly drove away, leaving that suffocating house far behind. In the bedroom, Ethan jolted awake from his dream. He reached out—the bedding beside him was ice cold and empty. His heart suddenly tightened. In a panic, he turned on the light. The glaring light illuminated the empty room. There was no sign of me anywhere. “Nora Sullivan!” He roared like a madman, rushing out barefoot, turning the bedroom, living room, and balcony upside down, leaving every corner in chaos. Finally, he saw a note on the table with my blurry, crooked handwriting. Just one line: “Ethan Bennett, I’m leaving and never coming back.”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “392095”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

  • The Script Where They Killed Me

    https://p16-sign-sg.tiktokcdn.com/tos-alisg-v-0051c001-sg/ogTAgA9eREVEVAFb8DpAEtHAAfG8AQfD7rWDEL~tplv-jf6le9or8g-image.image?dr=14555&nonce=21660&refresh_token=ebc9d695778f9c1510b6cd541ff433bc&x-expires=1780801200&x-signature=ERXE%2FYrfeQaZLNZqgwk6xhvuiWI%3D&ftpl=1&idc=sg1&ps=13740610&shcp=95267ce0&shp=7861f25a&t=4d5b0474

  • Why My Family Calls Me Monster

    https://p16-sign-sg.tiktokcdn.com/tos-alisg-v-0051c001-sg/oYQIIeETDAAANHbEAEdTfA0A6ZVDfFkqVgFtwG~tplv-jf6le9or8g-image.image?dr=14555&nonce=22213&refresh_token=66d1868992e54ca5b268aef639ea8028&x-expires=1780801200&x-signature=BNVAOSFfMkS0LRuGHL8r4mAdi7M%3D&ftpl=1&idc=sg1&ps=13740610&shcp=95267ce0&shp=7861f25a&t=4d5b0474

  • Tenure Track to My Heart

    Because I work on a highly classified government research project, I always tell my family I’m just a high school science teacher. When I went home for the holidays, my snobby relatives lectured me: “What’s the point of being a high school teacher? You should be like Chloe’s advisor, the youngest tenured professor at Columbia. That’s where the real future is.” …Wait a minute. Your precious Chloe, doesn’t she call me “Mrs. Professor”? 01. After three grueling years of research, my classified government project finally reached a major milestone. With the holidays approaching, I decided to head back to my hometown a bit early. To surprise my mom, I didn’t call ahead. I just lugged my suitcase straight to our front porch. Just as I got to the door, someone was walking out of my house. “Oh… hey there, Claire! You’re back!” I stared at my Aunt Susan, who was awkwardly hugging a brand-new blender. I was confused but politely said hello. She guiltily tried to hide the blender behind her back and gave an awkward laugh. “I just came to borrow something. It’s nothing, I’ll get going now.” She practically jogged a few steps down the driveway before turning around, feigning helpfulness. “By the way, your mom isn’t home today. You should probably give her a call.” I walked into the house, feeling more suspicious by the second. That blender looked exactly like the one I bought for my mom a few weeks ago. “Mom, Aunt Susan just came over to borrow the blender. Did you know about this?” I called my mom. She sounded surprised, then let out a helpless sigh. “She came over a couple of days ago and mentioned she wanted to borrow it. I guess she just came and took it.” I frowned. “Mom, did you still not change the keypad code for the front door?” “Your aunts told me since I live alone, it’s good for them to know the code in case of an emergency. So I just… left it.” I bought my mom that new blender specifically because my other aunt took the old one! A terrible premonition washed over me. I quickly scanned the house. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The espresso machine, the Le Creuset Dutch oven, the KitchenAid mixer… even the nice coffee mugs I bought her were gone! When I asked, she casually mentioned they were all “borrowed” by my various aunts. Wow. Are my relatives playing a game of Raid the House? “They’re family, Claire. If they took it, they took it. Let it go…” I wanted to cry but had no tears. I felt incredibly guilty. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” “It’s just small stuff, what’s there to talk about? I rarely use those things anyway. Forget it.” My clueless mom finally realized something else. “Wait a minute, Claire, you’re home?!” 02. With my mom trying to keep the peace, I had to swallow my frustration about the “borrowed” appliances. She values her relationships with her sisters a lot, and I didn’t want to break her heart. I went online, ordered a whole new set of kitchen appliances, and practically forced my mom to change the door code. “You can’t just let people walk into the house whenever they want. It’s dangerous.” My mom sighed. “This is all because you’re never home.” “You say you’re a teacher, but other teachers get summer and winter breaks! You only come back for a few days around Christmas!” My national research project had top-secret security clearance, which was why I always told my family I was just a teacher. In the past, the project schedule was insanely tight. I’d rush home for Christmas dinner and leave almost immediately after. I hugged my mom and cooed, “Don’t worry, Mom. This time I’m staying as long as you want. I’ll stay until you’re sick of me!” My mom finally smiled. After cuddling with her for a bit, I went to my room to unpack. My phone buzzed with a new message. Professor Davis: “Not at the lab today?” Oh, crap! I completely forgot I had a boyfriend. “I went home.” Fearing that sounded ambiguous, I added, “Back to my hometown.” Professor Davis: “?” Just one question mark, but I could vividly picture him slightly raising his eyes, that deep gaze carrying an innocent yet undeniable pressure. Uh, what was I supposed to say right now? I froze. Thankfully, my mom yelled for me from the living room, giving me an out. “My mom’s calling me, gotta go!” Thinking for a second, I added: “See you after the holidays.” I let out a sigh of relief, dropped my phone, and sprinted out of the room. My mom was sitting on the couch, waving me over. “Your Aunt Brenda knows you came back early this year. She said she wants to introduce you to a nice young man. She wants you to grab lunch with him tomorrow.” 03. I was stunned. “Here’s his contact info. I’ll text it to you. You guys should chat first.” Seeing my mom about to send a stranger’s profile to my phone, I grabbed her hand. “Mom, I am not going on a blind date.” My mom wasn’t surprised. She easily pulled her hand away. “I’m not trying to pressure you, Claire, but you’re pushing thirty. It’s not good to not have someone to take care of you. “I’m not forcing you to marry the guy. Just chat with him. If it doesn’t work out, don’t force it.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I stopped her hand again. “No, Mom, seriously. I have a boyfriend.” Now it was my mom’s turn to be shocked. “Where did you get a boyfriend?” Her expression was so incredulous that it made me doubt if I even deserved to have one. “He’s a colleague at the university. We just started dating two months ago.” “He’s a teacher too? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?” My mom immediately went into interrogation mode: “What’s his name?” I puffed out my chest. “Liam Davis. He’s incredibly handsome. He could easily be a Hollywood actor!” “What kind of guy is he? Where is he from?” I blinked. “Uh… I forgot to ask. I think he’s from New York?” “What do his parents do? Does he have siblings?” I smiled awkwardly. “I… I haven’t asked that yet.” My mom asked a few more basic questions about Liam, and I couldn’t answer a single one. The atmosphere grew tense. We stared at each other. She sighed, putting on an “I see right through you” expression. “You just don’t want to go on the blind date, so you’re lying to your mother, aren’t you?” “No, Mom, I swear…” “Forget it. Tomorrow at lunch, I’m saying yes for you. You have to go.” 04. That night, I lay in bed, staring blankly at my chat with Liam. My relationship with Liam was entirely transactional. We had absolutely no emotional foundation. We were both getting older; he needed a girlfriend to get his family off his back, and I had been single my entire life of nearly thirty years, so in a moment of impulse… Plus, when Liam proposed we date, he explicitly said that if I found someone more suitable in the future, we could end it whenever I wanted. Thinking about this, I texted Liam: “Professor Davis, would you mind if I went on a blind date?” “?” Liam replied almost instantly, short and to the point: “I would mind.” He was a man of few words, known at Columbia University for being refined, aloof, and very difficult to approach. “Hahaha. I’m just kidding.” I tried to laugh it off. Liam coldly replied with a simple, “Ok.” Although I could sense his dissatisfaction, in the end, I didn’t go to the blind date lunch. I told Aunt Brenda I already had a boyfriend who was also a teacher. Aunt Brenda made a huge fuss on the phone: “The guy I’m introducing you to, Kevin, is a regional manager at a big tech company! He makes $200,000 a year. What kind of teacher can compare to that?” Uh, Liam’s speaking fee for a single international seminar is probably more than that. “Kevin is five years older than you. He’s at the perfect age to know how to spoil a woman, and he’s not bad-looking either. It’s your loss if you don’t meet him.” Kevin wasn’t ugly, but comparing him to Liam was an absolute insult to Liam. “Aunt Brenda, my boyfriend isn’t… worse than Kevin. Please, don’t worry about me.” Aunt Brenda clearly didn’t believe me and started lecturing me: “Claire, with your background, I had to cash in a lot of favors just to get Kevin to agree to meet you. Don’t act all high and mighty and treat people like they’re beneath you. “You need to think about your age! By the time a woman hits thirty, having kids gets risky! Aunt Brenda is only saying this for your own good!” “…” Her barrage of words made my head spin. I barely managed to keep my polite composure until I hung up. I never expected that at the annual family holiday dinner, they would be even more ruthless to my face. 05. Early the next morning, before I even got enough sleep, I was woken up by a racket outside my room. Aunt Brenda, Aunt Susan, a few other relatives, and several loud kids of varying ages were gathered in the living room, laughing and making a mess. I opened my bedroom door in my pajamas, instantly becoming the center of attention. Aunt Susan, whom I had only seen briefly the day before, immediately started her passive-aggressive routine: “Wow, it’s so late, Claire is finally awake.” I awkwardly greeted everyone one by one. My eyes swept over a pretty, twenty-something girl standing at the back, and I paused. Noticing this, Aunt Brenda quickly grabbed the girl’s arm. “Chloe, come here. This is your cousin Claire.” Chloe was stunningly gorgeous. She gave me a dismissive nod. “Cousin.” My impression of this younger cousin was stuck in a memory from over a decade ago. I gave a stiff nod back. I intended to retreat to my room after saying hello, but Aunt Brenda decided to use me as a conversation starter. “Claire, our Chloe is studying in New York now too. You guys should hang out when you have free time.” I politely asked, “Oh really? Which university?” Aunt Brenda, waiting for exactly that question, puffed out her chest. “At Columbia. She’s a grad student.” They waited for a look of awe to appear on my face, but my reaction was flat. “Oh. Well, if you ever need anything in New York, just let me know.” I don’t know what I said wrong, but Aunt Brenda’s face instantly fell, and Chloe started sizing me up. She even let out a soft scoff, her eyes seemingly saying, “How exactly could you help me?” I looked innocent. Aunt Susan chimed in: “Columbia is an Ivy League, top-tier university. Claire, you’re just a high school teacher. You’ll probably be the one asking Chloe for favors in the future.” When I told my mom I was a teacher at a “higher education institution,” she must have misunderstood and told everyone I was a high school teacher. These relatives had no idea I was actually an associate professor at Columbia. I didn’t care about the misunderstanding, so I just brushed it off. “Well then, please look out for me in the future, Cousin Chloe.” I turned to go back to my room. Through the door, I could still hear Aunt Brenda’s loud voice: “Chloe, don’t aim low like your cousin. When you become a teacher, you have to be at least a full professor.” Me: “???” 06. The whole group headed to a restaurant for lunch. On the way, my mom, Aunt Susan, and I shared a car. “Sarah, I’m so sorry, I forgot to return that blender I borrowed the other day.” Aunt Susan put on a fake apologetic face. “I saw you bought a new one for your kitchen. So the old one…” Before my mom could even speak, I cut in with a bright smile: “Aunt Susan, you can just return it when you have time. I actually need a blender for my apartment in New York.” Aunt Susan froze on the spot. I continued, “You can keep using it for now. I’ll pick it up before I head back to the city.” “Oh… okay. Okay.” In the dim light of the car, my mom shot me a scolding glare, but she didn’t say anything. For the rest of the ride, Aunt Susan looked incredibly uncomfortable and didn’t speak again. The moment we got out of the car, she couldn’t wait to run over to Aunt Brenda. The two of them huddled together, whispering. Nearby, Chloe shot me another look of pure disdain. “I heard Claire got a boyfriend? What does he do? Why didn’t you bring him back to show us?” At the dinner table, Aunt Susan opened fire on me like she was seeking revenge. I looked up at her. “He’s a teacher too. He went back to his hometown.” Aunt Brenda immediately put on a pretentious, lecturing tone: “What’s the point of being a high school teacher? You should be like Chloe’s advisor, the youngest tenured professor at Columbia. That’s where the real future is.” The youngest tenured professor at Columbia? Isn’t that Liam? I was confused. I heard Aunt Brenda boasting, “Chloe, what’s your advisor’s name again? How does he treat you?” Chloe put on a bashful, girlish demeanor. “Professor Liam Davis is the best advisor I’ve ever had. Since he found out we’re from the same hometown, he takes special care of me…” Hearing that name, I swallowed hard and glanced at my mom, who looked completely lost. The other aunts started making a fuss: “Oh my, Chloe, does the professor have feelings for you?” “A college romance between a professor and a student is totally normal. If you like him, Chloe, just be bold.” “Wait, is this Professor Davis from our town?” Liam is from my hometown? I didn’t even know that! I stared in shock at Chloe, who looked incredibly flushed and shy. I genuinely doubted if there were two professors named Liam Davis at Columbia. At that moment, a waiter opened the private dining room door to bring in the food, and a figure walked past the hallway. Chloe, who happened to look up, froze. She immediately yelled out toward the hall, “Professor Davis!” The entire room fell dead silent. Chloe excitedly jumped up and ran toward the door. I stared blankly in that direction, completely unprepared as my eyes locked with the person outside. LIAM!!! 07. I looked shocked, but Liam’s gaze and expression were impossibly calm. As Chloe ran up to him, he casually withdrew his gaze from me. “Professor Davis, what a coincidence! Are you eating here too?” The door to the private room was wide open, and Chloe’s voice clearly carried to everyone inside. “Yes.” Liam’s coldness was obvious. He shifted his feet, clearly preparing to leave. Chloe acted like she didn’t notice. She raised her hand to tuck a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear and continued talking to him in a sickly-sweet voice: “It’s almost the holidays, so I came out to eat with my family. We just got here.” “I’m not interested in your personal life.” Liam shifted his feet again, but before he could take a step, he was stopped by Chloe’s persistent chatter. “Professor Davis, then you…” I had been staring at Liam the whole time. Seeing his awkward leg movements trying to escape, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. Well, that was it. Everyone in the room simultaneously turned to look at me. I immediately covered my mouth, waved my hand at the two people by the door, and offered an apologetic smile: “Sorry, sorry. Please, continue. Carry on.” Liam’s gaze landed on me, and it felt distinctly chilly. He let out a light scoff, and this time, he finally walked away cleanly. “Wait, Professor Davis…” Chloe called out frantically but got no response. Seeing Liam walk far away, her face darkened, and she stormed back into the private room. “Cousin Claire, what is your problem?” I was bewildered, looking at the suddenly furious Chloe, completely lost. “I was having a perfectly nice conversation with Professor Davis, and you intentionally made a noise to interrupt us. What exactly are your intentions?” Me: ???

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “434838”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • Rewriting My Own Fate: The Fall of the False Heiress

    After my parents’ divorce, my mom had a whirlwind romance and married the richest man in the city. The court awarded custody of my sister to my mom, but my sister had a total meltdown in the courtroom. She screamed that our mom was a gold-digging whore and refused to go with her. Seeing her bloodshot eyes and stubborn defiance, I immediately rushed forward and threw my arms around my mom. “Mom! I don’t want to be separated from you! Can you please take me instead?” And just like that, without a second thought, I changed my last name and became the pampered daughter of the ultra-wealthy Sterling family. From that high vantage point, I watched as the father and daughter who had caused my gruesome death in my previous life slowly plummeted from their pedestals into absolute ruin. 1 My mother was incredibly beautiful. Even compared to the actresses on TV, she didn’t pale in the slightest. Because of that, I always believed it was only a matter of time before she left my father. Sure enough, she filed for divorce. She was preparing to marry into the Sterling family—the absolute apex of high society—and become Mrs. Sterling. In the courtroom, the judge initially awarded custody of my sister to my mom. But my sister had a complete meltdown right there in front of everyone. She screamed that our mom was a gold-digging whore and swore she would rather die than go with her. Seeing her bloodshot eyes and that familiar, stubborn defiance on her face, I immediately rushed forward and threw my arms around my mom. “Mom! I don’t want to be separated from you! Can you please take me instead?” I cried until my face was a mess, looking absolutely pitiful. Huge teardrops smashed onto the floor. I looked so devastated that even the judge probably wanted to slap himself for trying to separate us. After that dramatic performance, my mom and the judge decisively changed the custody ruling. I forced down the overwhelming joy bubbling up inside me. With swollen eyes, I followed my mom into the black Rolls-Royce. As the car drove away, I let out a long, heavy exhale. I clenched my fists. This time, I absolutely refuse to live the miserable, tragic life I lived before. Since I was given a second chance at life, I was going to do everything in my power to shine as brightly as possible. 2 Looking back at the two figures slowly fading into the distance, an indescribable sense of satisfaction washed over me. Even if I hadn’t completely rid myself of those two lunatics yet, at least I wasn’t trapped in that hellish household anymore. In this life, I refused to be driven insane by those two hypocritical psychopaths, and I absolutely refused to be their stepping stone again. Just recalling my memories from my past life made me sick to my stomach. That father and daughter loved to put on a show of high-minded intellectual superiority in front of others. They loved acting like they were above worldly desires. But behind closed doors, they were rotten to the core. Especially my “good sister.” She loved nothing more than playing the role of the resilient, independent martyr who defied authority. So, in my previous life, just like in this one, my sister, Mia, refused to go with my mom. She hysterically accused my mom of abandoning the family for money. After all, in her eyes, our professor father was practically a god. She wanted to fall into ruin alongside her god, but she refused to let me go. She had planned it all out from the start. “Dad, you and Mom are really over, aren’t you?” “Chloe secretly told me she doesn’t want to go with Mom. Dad, please don’t let Chloe and me down.” And just as she planned, in the courtroom, the father who had always disliked me actively asked the judge for custody of me. I wasn’t surprised at all. The moment he spoke, I saw the faint smirk tugging at the corners of Mia’s mouth. She hid it well, but as someone who had lived through this once before, I saw it plain as day. Then, she turned around and started her hysterical tirade against my mom. “I don’t want you! You don’t even want Dad anymore! Why couldn’t you just give me a complete family?!” “You’ll never be respected marrying into that family! I don’t want a mother who abandoned her biological daughters just to be a stepmother to someone else’s kid! We don’t need you!” I have to admit, Mia’s acting was phenomenal. Even experiencing it a second time, her explosive outburst startled me for a second. But I recovered quickly. I threw myself into my mom’s arms—she was already sobbing quietly. Honestly, my heart ached a little for this woman. With a trembling voice, I delivered my lines: “Mom, I don’t want to be separated from you! Can you please take me instead?” I cried until my face was a mess, looking absolutely pitiful. Huge teardrops smashed onto the floor, making even the judge look like he regretted his initial decision. After that dramatic performance, my mom and the judge decisively changed the custody ruling. In that exact moment, I clearly saw the panic flash across Mia’s face. It was quickly replaced by a mask of grievance and betrayal, as if the entire world had turned its back on her. My dad rushed forward to hug her, comforting her in a soft voice, just like he always did. Since their father-daughter bond was so deep, I hoped they would stay locked together for the rest of this life. 3 I wouldn’t feel bad for her, because I knew Mia had always been incredibly smart and fiercely ambitious. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until I died in my last life that I saw her true colors clearly. I knew she didn’t actually hate money. On the contrary, she loved money more than anyone else. But she was greedy. She wanted both the money and the flawless reputation. So, just like in my previous life, she put on a show of rejecting my mom’s departure, causing a scene in court. But behind the scenes, she intentionally made sure my mom saw her looking disheveled and miserable over and over again. My mom felt guilty and compensated by treating her even better, constantly trying to bring her into the Sterling family so she could live like a wealthy heiress. But Mia knew exactly how to play the game. She would reject the offers again and again, playing hard to get. Meanwhile, she continued to build her “resilient scholar” persona alongside our hypocritical father, networking with heavyweights in the academic world. Eventually, by the second semester of her junior year of college, she published three major research papers back-to-back. By her senior year, she secured a full-ride to Harvard and was hailed by everyone as a genius. And then? She swiftly and decisively kicked our dad and me to the curb, officially becoming the Eldest Miss of the Sterling family. And what about me in my past life? I was so devastated by our parents’ separation that I couldn’t snap out of it, foolishly following Mia back to my dad’s house. As a result, I spent the rest of my life working myself to the bone to support those two hypocritical academics, eventually collapsing from exhaustion and severe illness. When I finally woke up, I discovered that they had drugged me and sent me to the bed of an absolute monster—all just so they could secure a $100,000 research grant. How laughable is that? Two people who constantly claimed to despise the “stench of money” traded me for their food, their clothes, their lifestyle, and their grants. It was nauseating beyond belief. 4 Living a second time, my goals were incredibly clear. Escape that subhuman father-daughter duo, and maybe exact a little revenge along the way. And of course, I wasn’t going to let the title of “Sterling Family Heiress” slip away this time. So, after following my mom back to the Sterling estate… I immediately changed my last name. The world no longer had a Chloe Miller; there was only Chloe Sterling. When I proposed the idea, my mom was actually a bit surprised. In contrast, my stepdad, Mr. Sterling, was deeply moved. He turned around and handed me a dazzling, jet-black Amex Centurion card. “Thank you, Uncle Sterling.” I accepted it sweetly. Unlike Mia, I wasn’t fake. I wanted it, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Then, I calmly walked over to my mom and patted her arm. “Good eye this time.” With that, I slowly walked upstairs to pick out my room. I have to admit, having money is fantastic. Looking at the opulent, palatial mansion, my mood soared. Even a random trash can in this house probably cost more than I made in three months of working in my past life. While I was still lost in my joy, I accidentally bumped into a chest that smelled faintly of a clean, fresh cologne. The warmth radiating from it perked me up instantly. I looked up, meeting a pair of deep, disdainful eyes. This was straight out of a cheesy romance drama. I was just getting ready to swallow hard… When the next second, a massive force shoved me away. “I—” “Hello, sister,” a voice as cold as ice echoed from the bottom of the stairs. When I groggily looked back, the person only left me with an aloof, distant silhouette. I awkwardly rubbed my nose. I guessed who it was. Uncle Sterling’s only son, Julian Sterling. He was the future head of the Sterling empire. A quintessential, domineering CEO. I didn’t have many memories of him from my past life. So I didn’t overthink it. For the next few days, nothing major happened. My mom and Uncle Sterling were gross and lovey-dovey every day, acting out a cheesy romance novel right in front of me and Julian. My fragile heart took a beating every day. In contrast, Julian was completely unfazed. I don’t know if he had facial paralysis, but from the first time I saw him until now, I had never seen him make any other expression. Always freezing cold. I didn’t dare provoke him, keeping as much distance between us as possible. After all, I had a lot of work to do. 5 Not long after entering the Sterling household, I basically adapted to the life of a wealthy heiress. Using the black card Uncle Sterling gave me, I went on a massive shopping spree at the mall and bought the newest iPhone. Then, I relentlessly began sending verification messages to my “good sister.” For an entire week, I bombarded her: “Mia, the Sterling family is seriously so rich. Uncle Sterling gave me a watch yesterday that costs enough to buy the nicest house on our old street.” “Mia, what should I do? Uncle Sterling is making me attend a high-society gala in Beverly Hills tomorrow. Am I going to embarrass myself? Wuwuwu~” “Mia, Uncle Sterling transferred me to the best private high school in Beverly Hills. It’s called Oakridge Academy. I think that’s the one you originally tested into, right?” “Mia, when are you free? Let me take you out for a fancy steak dinner.” And then, she deleted me. Undeterred, every few days, I would send my “good sister” another verification request, putting my most pretentious humble-brags in the message box. And then, I was blocked. I didn’t care at all, because my only goal was to make her miserable. Two weeks later, I officially transferred into Class A at Oakridge Academy. Of course, all of this was thanks to Uncle Sterling’s immense wealth. “Hello everyone, my name is Chloe Sterling.” I stood at the podium introducing myself, but waves of mocking whispers echoed from the students below. “So this is the new fake phoenix of the Sterling family. Her mom is shameless enough, but this daughter… tsk tsk. Changing her last name the second she moves in. Afraid people won’t know she’s a gold digger?” “True, but you can’t deny she’s actually really pretty.” “Who cares if she’s pretty? She’s still just a fake heiress.” Listening to the chatter and gossip below, my heart remained perfectly calm. I had experienced plenty of this in my past life. I had a very thick skin. Of course, I knew my “good sister” definitely had a hand in spreading these rumors. In my past life, my grades were never as good as hers. She relied on her stellar academic record to test into this elite private school, making my dad proud for a very long time. Now, watching the sister who had always lived in her shadow suddenly stand at the same height—maybe even shining brighter—of course she would be furious. I cast a brief, indifferent glance at Mia, who was sitting at her desk, pretending to focus intently on a worksheet. I didn’t say hello. It was as if my harassment from the past few weeks had never happened. When I slung my limited-edition designer backpack over my shoulder and walked to the back of the room, I noticed there was only one empty seat left in the entire class. Everyone was watching, waiting for a show. I actually smiled. Well, if it isn’t my “good brother.” I sat down next to him, completely unfazed. Julian didn’t even lift his eyes. Excellent. As freezing cold as ever. I like it. After a few minutes, seeing that Julian had no intention of kicking me out, the students who wanted to see me humiliated were shocked. In the crowd, I saw Mia turn her head and give me a long, deep look. I pretended not to see it and focused on the lesson. After all, getting a second chance at life meant I understood a lot of things better now. Like the fact that getting into a top university was crucial. So, I immersed myself in studying, unable to pull myself away. This resulted in many students who wanted to pick a fight giving up, since I just sat next to Julian, behaving perfectly and doing practice problems. Additionally, Uncle Sterling hosted a massive banquet specifically for me, officially announcing me as the Eldest Miss of the Sterling family. Many shrewd players in the business world realized that Uncle Sterling genuinely valued me. These elite private school kids all came from wealthy families and ran in the same circles, so they caught on quickly. They didn’t dare provoke me anymore; some even started trying to suck up to me. But there are always people who lack basic observation skills. Mia’s desk-mate, Sarah, was one of them. After I broke into the top 200 on the midterms, she stood up in front of the whole class and accused me of cheating. “I knew it! She used to go to a public school in a terrible district. If she didn’t latch onto the Sterling family, there’s no way she could be here. There’s no way she could keep up with the curriculum.” What she said wasn’t entirely wrong. But she didn’t know that even though my grades couldn’t match Mia’s in my past life, I was still ranked first in my old public school. This time around, since I planned to focus on studying, Uncle Sterling had specifically hired top-tier private tutors for me. So, I calmly walked up to Sarah and grabbed her by the collar. “I cheated? You saw it?” Perhaps feeling humiliated by being manhandled, Sarah’s face turned bright red. “Let go of me! You cheated, aren’t people allowed to say it?!” “Oh really? Let’s go then.” Her bravado faltered a bit. She tried to pull my hand away but couldn’t, so she gritted her teeth. “Let go of me! Where are we going?!” “To the Dean’s office to check the security footage.” My tone was flat, completely unhurried. “If there’s no proof, just wait for me to sue you for defamation. I’m sure you’re aware of the Sterling family’s legal team.” Saying that, I started dragging her toward the door. She screamed in panic, but still cursed at me. At that moment, exactly as I expected, my “Saint” of a sister, Mia, walked over. “Chloe, let go of Sarah. She was just making a joke. Why are you taking it so seriously?” “But I’m a very petty person, you know that.” I tilted my head and looked at her, smiling faintly. “By the way, my last name is Sterling now. I’m not your sister.” As we were arguing and pulling, our homeroom teacher, Mr. Davis, walked over. The thirty-something man looked kindly at us and asked, “What’s going on here?” Sarah didn’t speak. Mia, perfectly maintaining her poised demeanor, spoke up. “It’s nothing, Mr. Davis. Sarah was just joking with my sister, saying she cheated on the exam. After all, her grades used to be really poor, and she just transferred here not long ago, but she already broke into the top 200. My sister has always had a bad temper, so she got upset and started arguing with Sarah.” What a masterful white lotus. She seemed to be explaining the situation for me, but she was actually trying to solidify the cheating accusations while reminding everyone that I have a “bad temper.” If this were my past life, I wouldn’t have noticed all the underlying malice. Watching her stand there with a slight frown, while Mr. Davis’s eyes remained fixed on her, fully believing her words and preparing to scold me… I shoved Sarah. “Sarah, were you just joking with me?” Without waiting for Sarah to answer, I continued, “Oh, I just remembered. Mia, I always see you coming out of Mr. Davis’s office after school, and you’re always bringing him breakfast. You don’t have a crush on Mr. Davis, do you?” As soon as the words left my mouth, Mia’s face went deathly pale. She stood there, completely panicked. Mr. Davis’s expression shifted from awkwardness to visible distress. “Chloe Sterling, what are you talking about? Spread rumors like that, and I’ll give you a disciplinary infraction.” “Don’t take it so seriously, I was just making a joke.” I tossed the words back casually, nearly making Mia pass out from anger. To resolve the situation, we ended up in the Dean’s office. Because Uncle Sterling had just donated a massive sum of money the previous month, the school’s security cameras had been upgraded. The footage clearly showed I didn’t cheat. But because I spread a rumor about a student and a teacher, both Sarah and I ended up getting a formal warning. Walking back into the classroom, I purposefully walked past Mia’s desk. I leaned down and whispered in her ear, “My good sister, it looks like Mr. Davis really does like you.” Mia’s body violently flinched. I happily returned to my seat. After all, having memories from my past life, I knew all about Mr. Davis. Because she couldn’t afford private tutors, Mia struggled to maintain her top-ten ranking. Discovering that Mr. Davis had a soft spot for her “poor but hardworking” persona, she started approaching him to ask questions. It escalated from asking questions during passing periods to him tutoring her alone after school. I have to admit, she was very smart and very charming. Because, judging by Mr. Davis’s reaction today, he probably really did have feelings for her. So, I had just secured my first piece of leverage against her. However, if she stopped there, I wouldn’t have been able to do much. It all depended on how she chose to play her cards moving forward. For a while after that, Mia didn’t dare incite anyone to mess with me. And, to avoid suspicion, she didn’t dare go to Mr. Davis for help either. Unsurprisingly, her grades dropped significantly by finals. Seeing her sitting in her usual seat, crushing her exam paper in her hands, put me in a fantastic mood. Lately, Julian’s attitude toward me had improved a lot. He wasn’t as freezing cold as he was at the beginning. I started calling him “Brother” constantly. I knew his connections were powerful, so clinging to him would solidify my position as the Sterling family’s Miss. Under my relentless harassment, he finally, reluctantly agreed to let me ask him for help with questions I didn’t understand. But he set a strict rule: “A maximum of thirty minutes a day. Do not bother me outside of that time.” “You got it!” So, my final exams showed a lot of progress. I was almost catching up to Mia. 6 When summer break hit, I saw Mia in our gated community. Sure enough, the plotline from my past life was playing out. That night at dinner, I casually mentioned, “Mom, didn’t you tell me the other day that you wanted to go to the Maldives for the summer? You said it was your lifelong dream. When are we going? I want to go with you.” “Oh, that was just a silly dream from when I was young. You silly child, your Uncle Sterling is so busy, I need to stay here and take care of him.” My mom said it with a blush on her face. I secretly glanced at my stepdad. He was listening very intently. The next morning, when I came downstairs for breakfast, I saw Julian sitting alone at the dining table. “Where are Uncle Sterling and my mom?” The housekeeper replied, “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling went to the Maldives for a vacation. They probably won’t be back for half a month.” Yes! I couldn’t help but feel giddy. Julian sat across from me, his arms crossed, watching me with a knowing look. I quickly reeled in my excitement. Seeing him still staring at me, I hurriedly changed the subject. “Brother, since it’s just the two of us at home now, you have to be nice to me. Otherwise, I’ll tattle on you.” The corners of Julian’s mouth ticked up slightly. “Oh? How should I be nice to you?” He pushed a glass of milk toward me. I was instantly speechless. This guy never used to engage with me. His sudden response really caught me off guard. I quickly buried my head in my food, inhaling three large meat buns to ease the awkwardness. Across from me, Julian elegantly sipped his oatmeal, watching me the entire time. It felt like he was trying to burn a hole through me. I hastily finished my food and ran off. For the next few days, I saw Mia wandering around our gated community. Because she intentionally dressed very plainly, almost shabbily, the security guards chased her away several times. After a week of not running into my mom, Mia finally slinked away in defeat. 7 One day, I put on an elegant sundress and was just getting ready to leave the house. “Where are you going?” A familiar voice sounded behind me. I instinctively shrank my neck back and froze in place. While I was trying to come up with an excuse, Julian considerately opened the front door for me and grabbed his car keys. “Let’s go. I’ll give you a ride.” I turned around stiffly, stammering, “I… I’m just going shopping with my girlfriends. We can just take an Uber. It’s too much trouble for you.” Julian’s voice left no room for argument. “Didn’t you say we were the only ones home and I should take care of you?” I was still trying to talk my way out of it. Julian acted like he didn’t hear me. He gave me a gentle push. By the time I stepped over the threshold, the door was already closed behind me. And then, inexplicably, I found myself standing in front of Julian’s red sports car. Looking at the flashy two-seater, I felt a surge of excitement, but still weakly said, “Brother, I’m meeting my friends.” “Annoying.” I heard him mutter impatiently. We ended up taking a Bentley. Just as I opened the back door to get in… Julian’s voice rang out again: “Sit in the front.” It was an absolute command. I cursed in my head, thinking this guy had definitely read too many cheesy romance novels featuring domineering CEOs. “Hurry up.” He spoke again, and I quickly climbed into the passenger seat. After picking up my new best friend, Lily, we nervously headed to the mall. Julian followed us with his arms crossed, looking completely aloof. “Chloe, your brother is so hot. Can I get his Instagram?” Lily asked me, completely love-struck, constantly sneaking glances in his direction. I covertly glanced at Julian. His eyebrows were knit so tightly they could probably crush a mosquito. I pulled Lily close and whispered in her ear, “Don’t even think about it. He likes guys.” Lily’s mouth fell open in sheer disbelief. As expected, after the initial shock, her looks toward Julian were filled with nothing but curiosity. Then, she enthusiastically dragged me through various luxury boutiques, buying everything in sight. When we were almost done shopping, I purposely led Lily past a specific coffee shop. Having memories of my past life, I knew Mia worked here part-time. Today was the day the school’s bad boy, Ethan, would fall in love with her at first sight in this very shop. It all started because she accidentally spilled coffee on his shirt, and Ethan noticed this “hardworking” girl. After that, they would run into each other multiple times, and Ethan would relentlessly pursue her. I vividly remembered from my past life how desperately Ethan loved Mia. The plot was basically “handsome bad boy falls for the hardworking good girl.” With Ethan’s backing, Mia navigated the elite private school flawlessly. Not only did she not get bullied by the rich kids, but she eventually secured early admission to Harvard. I had originally planned to use my own charm to win Ethan over first, but after sending him harassing texts for a week straight without a single reply, I had no choice but to come here and ruin their meet-cute. So, Lily and I swaggered into the coffee shop, fully playing the part of arrogant rich girls. As I carefully orchestrated it, when Lily walked past Ethan’s table, the coffee that was supposed to spill on Ethan’s clothes ended up splashing all over Lily’s limited-edition dress. Accompanied by Lily’s shriek of “Ah!”, Mia took a step back. Seeing that she was about to fall into Ethan’s arms, I stepped forward, yanked her back, and then lost my own balance, falling forward. I secretly rejoiced, thinking I was going to bump into Ethan. Instead, a pair of strong hands yanked me back. A chilling aura washed over me from above. Julian glared down at me with a face as cold as ice. I shrank back, trying to slip away, but he held me firmly in place. While I was still struggling, a loud SMACK rang out. Mia had a bright red handprint on her face. Her eyes instantly turned red, and she looked at Lily with a mix of grievance and defiance. It was a truly pitiful sight. “What are you looking at? Let me tell you, you’re finished. “Do you have any idea how much this dress cost? You’re going to pay for it.” I had to admit, a pampered heiress like Lily was far better at this than I was. Every gesture exuded arrogance. I almost wanted to applaud, but thinking of Julian behind me, I held back. “I didn’t do it on purpose. You don’t have to look down on people like that.” Mia finally spoke up, still maintaining her defiant persona. Lily only demanded she pay for the dress, but Mia interpreted it as Lily looking down on her, while completely ignoring the demand for compensation. To an outsider, it looked exactly like we were bullying a poor, hardworking girl. Seeing her stoic expression, even I almost wanted to step in and help. Sure enough, many people turned to look, and someone even advised: “Miss, she’s just a student working a part-time job. It was an accident. Let it go.” I took my time and said, “I don’t know if it was intentional or not. But I do know that the dress my friend is wearing was a birthday gift from her dad. It’s a global limited edition. You might not even be able to buy it for a hundred thousand dollars. I wonder if it were you, would you just ‘let it go’?” Lily’s eyes were red with anger. “I don’t care. If you don’t pay for this today, I’m going to tear you apart.” Mia, perhaps just noticing me, turned her head and saw Julian standing behind me. Her face went pale. Hearing the price tag, she looked even more unsteady, incredibly pitiful. She looked pleadingly at Ethan. I then noticed that Ethan was just sitting there with a smirk, watching the drama unfold without the slightest intention of helping. Mia’s action made things a bit awkward. Finally, she turned to me with difficulty: “Sister, you know—” This was the prelude to making me the scapegoat. I quickly took a big step back. This time, Julian didn’t restrain me. “Hey, don’t call me that. My last name is Sterling. I barely know you.” I quickly hid behind Julian again. Mia’s pale face showed she hadn’t expected me to be so ruthless. Seeing that none of the boys nearby intended to help her, she closed her eyes and fainted. Ethan quickly moved away, terrified of being blamed for it. In the end, it was the coffee shop owner who came over to smooth things over. He fired Mia on the spot and told us to settle the compensation privately. The owner pulled out his phone. Not long after, I saw my dad arrive, late to the scene. Seeing Mia on the floor, his face was full of heartbreak. Then he looked at me, and just like he had questioned me countless times before, he demanded, “What happened to your sister? Was it because of you?” “Your wings have grown strong now, haven’t they? She’s your biological sister, and you just let people bully her like this.” See, my dad was always like this. Even though I was also his daughter, because my grades couldn’t match Mia’s, he was always cold to me. He constantly muttered that I was nothing like him, and wondered how the Miller family could produce such a stupid daughter. Even when I studied incredibly hard, falling just a few points behind Mia, he couldn’t see me. He gave all his paternal love to her. To beg for his love, I was so happy when he fought for custody of me in court in my past life. But after being worn down by him and disappointed time and time again, I no longer had any expectations for him. I said coldly, “You don’t have to scold me. After all, I’m not your daughter anymore. Besides, this is what your precious daughter did. What does it have to do with me?” My dad’s eyes turned red. He was just about to reprimand me when the coffee shop owner tactfully explained the truth of the situation. Then I saw my dad instantly change his tune: “Chloe, she’s still your biological sister. You know she’s always been obedient, working hard to support herself. Do you think you could—” Sure enough, the emotional blackmail was starting. Just as I was about to speak, Julian beat me to it: “Mr. Miller, Chloe is currently a member of the Sterling family. She has absolutely nothing to do with you.” With that, he pulled out his phone, ready to call the police. My dad finally panicked. “We’ll pay, don’t call the police! My daughter still has to go to college.” Ah, the depth of a father’s love! I suddenly felt a twinge of pain in my heart. Julian instinctively supported me. In the end, my dad pulled out his card to pay, looking absolutely heartbroken. After making a few phone calls, he barely managed to scrape together enough money. Then, he carried Mia on his back and left. Watching them walk away, even though I had achieved my goal, I didn’t feel as happy as I thought I would.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “434854”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • The Heiress’s Perfect Clone: I Stole Her Face to Destroy Her Life

    It is a well-known fact among the Manhattan elite that the Upper East Side princess, Sloane Sterling, loves nothing more than to be absolutely unique. Her biggest taboo is anyone sharing even the slightest resemblance to her. Because a bystander carelessly mentioned, “Hey, that waitress’s eyes look a lot like yours,” Sloane ordered her bodyguards to gouge out the waitress’s eyes and push her off a yacht, drowning her alive. And just like that, I lost the only family I had in this world. Later, I became Sloane Sterling’s body double. I wore the replica face she hated most—the face that looked exactly like hers. And I took everything from her. 1 Along with my mother’s corpse came a hush-money check for $500,000. I didn’t even blink as I signed the non-disclosure and settlement agreements. After officiating her funeral, I didn’t waste a second before going on a spending spree. I got extreme plastic surgery. I bought designer clothes. I even enrolled in elite etiquette and arts classes. The neighbors in our run-down apartment building whispered: “Poor Mary. She worked her fingers to the bone raising her daughter, and she raised a cold-blooded sociopath.” I let them talk. I didn’t care. As time passed, my mother’s death faded into background noise. The whispers turned into praise: “Chloe is getting more gorgeous by the day.” “Which clinic did she go to? The surgeon is a genius.” I just smiled and said nothing. This face was molded perfectly to replicate Manhattan’s reigning It-Girl, Sloane Sterling. How could it not be beautiful? 2 A top-tier socialite like Sloane could trend on X just by sneezing. Her toxic, on-and-off romance with Wall Street billionaire heir Carter Harrington was the country’s favorite post-dinner gossip. They were childhood sweethearts. Everyone called them a match made in heaven. But the billionaire heir was a playboy. Scandals surrounded him constantly, causing them to break up and get back together on an endless loop. The most recent drama happened when Carter set his sights on a C-list actress. The actress even got pregnant with his child. Paparazzi photos showed them holding hands, looking deeply in love. But not long after, news broke that the actress had “accidentally” fallen from a penthouse balcony. She died on impact. Two lives, gone. Her death didn’t cause much of a ripple, though. Because the top trending topics that day were: [The Princess Runs Away] [Carter & Sloane Fight Again!] [Place your bets: How long until they make up?] No one cared about the dead actress. Fans were far more focused on the fact that Carter and Sloane had a massive fight. This time, Sloane posted a dramatic story on Instagram. She claimed she was moving to Europe to “find herself” and wouldn’t be returning to the States anytime soon. Some netizens questioned it: “Doesn’t Sloane have modeling contracts lined up? Can she really just ditch them?” Her obsessive fans immediately attacked the critics: “Sorry you’re broke! When you have that much money, you can do whatever you want.” “Other influencers are controlled by capital, but our Queen Sloane is the capital.” “She’s more famous than you’ll ever be. Cry about it.” … Not long after Sloane left for Paris, the internet noticed something. There was a new girl by Carter Harrington’s side. And this girl had a face that looked 80% identical to Sloane Sterling’s. This time, the internet was strangely calm: “Oh, look. Clone #18 has arrived.” Every time Carter and Sloane broke up, a new woman would appear by his side shortly after. And every single one of them shared a resemblance to Sloane. The gossip blogs affectionately called these girls “The Clones.” They even gave them serial numbers. To the public, these stand-ins were ultimate proof of Carter’s undying love for Sloane. After all… He loved the clones because they looked like her. But she was the original. “Carter is so extra (facepalm)…” “He’s too proud to chase her to Paris, so he pulls this stunt every time.” “But you gotta admit, Clone #18 looks EXACTLY like Sloane. Where does he even find them?” Of course I looked like her. I clung to Carter’s arm, leaning against his chest like a fragile little bird. I had suffered immensely for this face. My mother’s eyes were naturally similar to Sloane’s. But I didn’t just want the eyes. I matched her jawline. I went through agonizing micro-adjustments for my nose and lips. To ensure Carter’s background checks wouldn’t reveal I intentionally altered my face to approach him, I didn’t dare go to legitimate hospitals. I went to underground, black-market clinics. Risking severe infections, disfigurement, or dying on the operating table, I spent three years and triple the money to carve this face out, millimeter by millimeter. It was my entry ticket into his world. How could I not look like her? 3 I quickly got my own dedicated subreddit. [r/HasClone18BeenFiredYet] Of course, this wasn’t an exclusive honor. My 17 predecessors all had their own threads, created by bored Carter-Sloane shippers. Carter was a man who got bored easily. The longest a clone had ever lasted was 25 days. The shortest was a mere three days. So, the fans checked the subreddit daily. They kept a log of the new stand-in, placing bets on how long I would last by Carter’s side. Most bet I wouldn’t make it past a month. A few outliers had higher hopes: “Maybe this one will break the one-month curse? She seriously looks exactly like our Queen.” Even so, the absolute maximum prediction was three months. No one expected me to be a survivor. One of me was better than all seventeen combined. One month passed; I was still there. Three months passed; still there. Six months; still there. Ten months passed… Carter Harrington announced our engagement. The internet exploded. 4 Sloane Sterling booked an overnight first-class flight and flew straight back to New York. The night before she landed. Carter held me in his arms, his fingers lazily tracing the contours of my face. “You know what to say and what not to say tomorrow, right?” I nodded obediently, cheerfully said, “I know!”, and thoughtfully began picking out the suit he would wear to meet Sloane the next day. When news of our engagement broke, 99% of the internet cursed my name. A tiny fraction guessed the truth: this was just Carter’s ultimate tactic to provoke Sloane. Unfortunately for the haters, that tiny fraction was right. Sloane hadn’t returned to the States in nearly a year. The billionaire heir lost his patience and orchestrated this entire spectacle. And from the very beginning, I played along perfectly. After all, there was a reason I lasted by Carter’s side this long. Besides the face, it was my absolute, unwavering submission. I mean absolute submission. The kind with zero trace of self-respect. Carter liked competitive gaming. I spent hours practicing games I had never heard of, just so I could be his perfect duo partner every night. Carter liked fresh walnuts. I cracked them by hand for him until my fingernails chipped and my fingertips bled. Carter was a borderline alcoholic. To help him break the habit, I matched him drink for drink. My body, which had never touched alcohol before, was forced to down two bottles of neat bourbon. I ended up in the ER with a bleeding ulcer, nearly dying. After that, Carter rarely touched liquor. He even quit smoking. His frat-boy friends’ attitudes toward me completely shifted. At first, they just saw me as Carter’s disposable toy. They would tease me and use me for their amusement. But gradually, they couldn’t stand it anymore. “Carter, man, Chloe is a really good girl. Stop messing with her head.” Faced with their advice, Carter just pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Keep out of my business.” One of the rich playboys joked: “Hey Carter, whenever you get bored of her, let me know. I wouldn’t mind taking her off your hands.” He reached out and sleazily grabbed my waist. Carter’s face went dark. He smashed a beer bottle over the guy’s head. Then, he pinned down the hand that had touched me and stomped on it until the bones cracked. You see, after all this time, I actually held some weight in Carter’s heart. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have dared to play a cheesy rom-com on the living room TV in front of him— A show where the male lead fakes an engagement with the side-chick to make the female lead jealous. The female lead crashes the wedding, they confess their love, clear the misunderstanding, and she puts on the dress meant for her. Happily ever after. The billionaire heir was a fast learner. He copied the script flawlessly. Now, the male lead and the side-chick were in position. We were just waiting for the female lead to fly home. The show was about to begin. 5 Sloane returned, and the elite circle threw her a lavish welcome-home party at a VIP club. In the private booth… I sat on Carter’s lap, caged in his arms. He knew I hated places like this. He knew I despised PDA. He knew that ever since my stomach ulcer, I couldn’t touch a single drop of alcohol. Yet, he forced a full glass of red wine into my hands, demanding I feed it to him mouth-to-mouth in front of everyone. All because sitting directly across from us was Sloane Sterling. I lowered my eyes and did as I was told. Before our lips could even touch, a sharp pain erupted at the back of my head. Sloane grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanked me off Carter, and shoved me hard onto the floor. The wine glass shattered. Shards of glass pierced my palms. Blood and red wine bloomed together across my white dress. Carter didn’t even glance at me. Instead, the corners of his lips curled up. He looked lazily at Sloane. “Can I help you, Miss Sterling? I’m kissing my fiancé. I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” His tone was dripping with sarcastic provocation. Sloane’s eyes instantly went red. “Fine, Carter. You win. I admit I can’t let you go. Are you happy now?” Carter’s smile deepened. Before he could speak, Sloane continued: “I know you’re doing this just to trigger me. But you know I hate nothing more than being compared to others. Why would you use this filthy, low-class trash to provoke me? A stand-in? She’s not even worthy of shining my shoes!” With that, she burst into tears and ran out of the club. The guys around us laughed. “Carter, you played too hard. The car flipped.” “Better go chase your girl back, man.” Carter clicked his tongue in annoyance, but he still stood up and chased after Sloane. The whole room erupted into roaring laughter, like they had just watched a spectacular comedy. Everyone knew Carter was just using me. No one doubted his love for Sloane. And absolutely no one believed he was actually going to marry me. From start to finish, I was nothing but a clown. A disposable prop. Amidst the laughter, I slowly stood up. My face was perfectly calm as I addressed the room: “Excuse me. I’ll be taking my leave.” The laughter died down a bit. They seemed to just remember I was still in the room. I didn’t bother looking at their reactions. I turned and left without looking back. 6 Leaving the club, I went straight to a cheap, run-down motel. I stayed there for three days. For three days, I mostly just slept. I ordered takeout when I woke up. It was incredibly relaxing. On the third day, Carter finally found me. He looked terrible. His hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot, and he had a heavy shadow of stubble. He was still wearing the same suit from the club. I appropriately showed a look of shock, then seamlessly transitioned into my usual, gentle smile. “What brings you here? How are things with Miss Sterling? Did you guys talk it out?” Carter ignored all my questions. He stared at me intensely, his eyes like a starving wolf about to devour its prey. “Why didn’t you come home for three days?” His voice was hoarse, laced with a dangerous edge. I took a step back, furrowing my brows slightly. “Miss Sterling is back. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to stay at the penthouse anymore.” Carter froze, his irritation spiking. “What the fuck does that mean?” I continued, polite and obedient: “Don’t worry, I won’t cling to you. I’ll go pack up my things from the villa in a few days. I’ll make sure it’s completely spotless so Miss Sterling doesn’t have to look at anything that upsets her.” Carter stared at me, looking absolutely in disbelief. “Chloe. Are you saying you want to break up with me?” Faced with his question, I frowned deeply and spoke slowly: “Miss Sterling is back. Shouldn’t we break up?” “Don’t even think about it!” Carter snapped. He stepped forward instinctively, his hand clamping down on my wrist like a vice. His grip was so brutal I thought my bones would shatter. I gasped in pain. Carter didn’t loosen his grip at all. Instead, he yanked me violently into his chest. He looked down at me, his eyes burning red: “I didn’t say we’re breaking up. Who gave you the right to make that decision?” Even a clay doll has a breaking point. Push a rabbit too far, and it bites. My eyes filled with tears. I looked up at him: “You two are getting back together! Why should I stay? To be the mistress in your relationship? Carter, I haven’t degraded myself to that level yet.” Carter paused. Clearly, he had never considered what to do with me once Sloane returned. But his inherent arrogance quickly provided an answer. “So what if you’re the mistress? Do you think I can’t afford to keep you? Just stay by my side and be good. I won’t treat you badly.” SLAP— I backhanded him across the face with everything I had. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I looked at him in total disbelief. “Carter, you bastard! Is that all I am to you? Some cheap whore?” I stared at him stubbornly. “Do you think I’ll die if I leave you? Do you think I have no dignity, no feelings?! What gives you the right to humiliate me like this? Let me tell you something. Everything I did for you, I did because I fell in love with you. Because you were in my heart! I did it all willingly. Not because I’m some pathetic lapdog with no boundaries. You rejected me a thousand times, and I still had the courage to walk toward you. But since you’ve found your true love, my pride won’t let me take another step forward. Carter, we shouldn’t see each other anymore. For you, for me, and for Miss Sterling, it’s…” Before I could finish, his massive frame pressed me against the wall. His face was terrifyingly dark. Ignoring my struggles, he pulled off his silk tie and ruthlessly bound my wrists together. “Chloe—” It was a term of endearment, but his voice was absolute zero. “I’ve spoiled you too much. I let you get so bold you think you can defy me. It looks like I need to teach you a lesson.” … 7 I was placed under house arrest. Carter watched me like a hawk, barely leaving my side. For an entire month, he treated me with a tenderness he had never shown before. Limitless haute couture and luxury goods flowed into the penthouse like water. Mansions and sports cars were transferred into my name without him batting an eye. He dropped his arrogant billionaire persona and started coddling me, caring for my every need. “Chloe, think about it. If you leave me, could you ever live a life this good?” … He didn’t suddenly learn to respect me. He just wanted to use a gilded cage to trap me, hoping I’d willingly become his nameless, hidden canary. I looked at him coldly, refusing to yield an inch. “Is this fun for you, Carter? Planning a wedding with Sloane on one side, and refusing to let me go on the other?” That’s right. Carter and Sloane were officially getting married. The internet shippers were throwing digital parades. As for me, the “ex-fiancé,” I was naturally cyberbullied into oblivion. “Carter, let me go. I—mmph!” He had clearly decided to marry Sloane. But every time I mentioned leaving, Carter would violently rip off his gentle facade and expose his brutal nature. He would ruthlessly bite my lips, not caring if they bled, just to swallow all the words I was trying to say. “Chloe, do not test my patience.” His eyes were ice cold. I met him with stubborn silence. But inside, I was laughing. I laughed because Carter couldn’t understand me, and he couldn’t understand himself. He hadn’t even realized it. These past few weeks, he had spent vastly more time with me than he had with Sloane. He even used “work” as an excuse to skip the most important event: wedding dress shopping with her. In reality, on the day he told Sloane he was busy, my period had “coincidentally” arrived early. Carter stayed with me all day. He bought me painkillers, brewed me ginger tea, and used his large, warm hands to soothe my cramps. It wasn’t until he finally coaxed me to sleep that he found the time to call Sloane. When he said the words “I’m busy” over the phone, I let out a soft, sleepy whimper beside him. I know Sloane heard it. With her ego, how could she possibly sit still? If before, she only hated my face because it mocked hers, in that moment, she must have realized I was completely different from all the “Clones” before me. This was the very first time Carter Harrington lied and brushed her off for another woman. And he did it on the day she was trying on her wedding dress. I knew she was feeling an unprecedented level of panic. And she absolutely wouldn’t take it lying down.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “434839”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • The Sterling Betrayal: Seven Years a Lie

    Roman Sterling was the undisputed king of New York’s elite social circle. Drinking, women, street racing, and bar fights—he was a master of them all. But after we started dating, he gave it all up. He treated me like I was his entire world. What he didn’t know was that I had already seen his texts: “I’m honestly bored to death with her. I’ve been looking at the same face for seven years; it’s beyond stale.” “The one I really want right now is you, my little songbird.” 01 The sun was scorching as we pulled up to the luxury bridal boutique. Roman took the umbrella from the chauffeur and held it over me himself. He was a Sterling. In his world, people existed only to serve him. But with me, he was the one doing the serving. In the beginning, his friends thought I was just a new flavor he was trying out. But as seven years passed, his devotion only grew more meticulous, leaving his inner circle in a state of perpetual shock. The boutique assistant greeted us with a voice full of envy. “Mr. Sterling, you and Ms. Thorne are truly goals.” Hearing this, Roman looked at me and flashed a boyish, seeking-praise smile. My heart felt like it was being pricked by a needle. I ignored his gaze and walked straight to the dressing room. Roman had pre-ordered fifteen of the latest couture gowns, each one hand-picked by him based on my specific tastes. As I went through the fitting, he leaned against the doorframe, his eyes so focused it felt like I was the only person in existence. One dress after another. I was losing my patience by the end, but he remained rapt, even offering the designer specific notes for alterations. He wouldn’t settle for anything less than perfection. The assistants gathered around me, whispering in hushed, envious tones: “Ms. Thorne, usually when guys come in for fittings, they’re on their phones by the third dress. I’ve never seen a man stay this focused from start to finish.” “You’re so lucky. He clearly adores you.” Adores me? I turned to look at Roman. When our eyes met, his expression melted into a soft, tender smile. It was a look of pure, watery devotion. He was a completely different person from the cold, ruthless “Prince of Wall Street” portrayed in the media. This was his “special treatment” for me. But if he really loved me, why was he keeping another woman in a secluded villa in the Hamptons? He called her his “little songbird.” What a cozy, intimate little nickname. 02 The fact that Roman Sterling was head-over-heels for me was common knowledge in Manhattan. Before us, he was the city’s most notorious playboy—clubs, scotch, models, and brawls were his oxygen. But the moment we got serious, he quit it all. Simply because I once said I “hated the smell of booze,” he stopped going to clubs and became a teetotaler, even at high-stakes business galas. He asked for my opinion before every social gathering and treated other women like they were a contagious disease. He was terrified of making me unhappy. Once, at a charity gala, a socialite made a snide remark about my background. Roman didn’t say a word; he simply had her and her entire family blacklisted from the city’s social register. I never saw her again. To prove his commitment, he went to his father and agreed to give up his reckless lifestyle to study the family business. He took over Sterling Global, something he had always sworn he would never do. For me, he made it look easy. That was when everyone finally realized—Roman wasn’t playing. It was me or nobody. It wasn’t surprising that his friends were confused. He was the heir to a multi-billion dollar empire, and I was just a rising news anchor. In terms of status, we were worlds apart. I used to fear his parents’ reaction, but when I first met his mother, she was surprisingly gracious. “Roman told me he’s settled on you. He said if he can’t have you, he doesn’t want anyone. He practically threatened me not to make things hard for you, or he’d never come home again.” “Clara, honey, I should thank you. Without you, I don’t know how long it would have taken for him to grow up.” I was shy and deeply moved. Moved by everything Roman had done for me. That night, he held me close and kissed my forehead, his voice deep and honeyed: “Clara, I love you.” I held him tight, believing I had finally captured a beam of permanent light in my life. But seven years later, this man who claimed to love me was talking to another woman. His tone was dripping with contempt. “Seven years. I’m exhausted. It’s reached the point where I’m just sick of looking at her.” “If my mother didn’t love her so much, I would have dumped her a year ago. But she’s so obsessed with me; she’d probably go insane if I broke it off. Hahaha.” “The one I really want right now is you, my little songbird.” Every word was a blade. And every blade drew blood. 03 By the time the dresses were finalized, the city lights were flickering on. Roman drove me home. He brewed me a cup of herbal tea to settle my stomach, his voice sounding a bit distant in the quiet living room: “Clara, I have an emergency board meeting to deal with. I’ll probably be back late. Don’t wait up for me.” I gently caught his sleeve. “Can’t you stay? Just this once?” He froze. I noticed him tapping his left hand—a nervous habit he had when he was calculating a lie. But finally, he shook his head and said softly, “This meeting is crucial. I have to go.” I stared at him for a long time, searching for even a flicker of guilt. There was nothing. “Baby, I’ll come straight back to you the second I’m done, okay?” He pulled me into a hug, whispering sweet promises. I masked the bitterness in my eyes and let a silent tear fall. “Okay. Go ahead.” He spent a long time soothing me. Before he left, he tried to kiss my cheek, but I turned away. He assumed I was just being pouty and gave a doting, indulgent chuckle. Then he turned and walked out without a hint of hesitation. I watched him go. A few minutes later, I grabbed my keys and followed him. The destination was a luxury villa on the outskirts of the city. I hid around the corner and watched as he punched in the entry code. A woman flew into his arms. She was dressed in a provocative black lace “bunny-maid” outfit, her voice purring with artificial sweetness. “Master, you’re finally here.” Roman’s eyes were dark with hunger. He leaned down and kissed her deeply before lifting her up and carrying her into the house. I stood outside that villa for a long time. Until my blood felt as cold as the night air. 04 In reality, I wasn’t surprised by Roman’s plans tonight. Their chat history went back three years. It started with: “Mr. Sterling, thank you for the ride home. I guess I can check ‘riding in a CEO’s passenger seat’ off my bucket list now.” “No problem.” And it ended yesterday: “My little bird, I’m taking her to pick out wedding dresses tomorrow. I’ll come to you at night. Wear the outfit you bought for me.” “Understood, Master~” Attached was a photo of the woman on her knees in that lace outfit. I had only been holding onto a final, pathetic shred of hope. I thought that if I begged him to stay, he might choose me. But he didn’t. He didn’t even feel a second of remorse. 05 By the time Roman returned home, I was sitting on the sofa in the dark. I wasn’t waiting for him. I just felt so suffocated that I couldn’t sleep. He entered the house quietly, trying not to wake me. But when he turned the corner, he saw me staring at him, unblinking. He was startled. Seeing my haggard face and the dark circles under my eyes, he looked devastated. “Clara? Why are you still up? I told you not to wait for me.” He took my hands and found my fingers were ice-cold. His voice took on a sharp edge of protective anger: “Clara, why don’t you listen? Your hands are freezing, and the AC is up too high. Are you trying to get sick?” It was rare for him to snap at me. And even then, it was out of concern for my health. In that moment, a wave of nausea rose in my chest. I couldn’t get it out, and I couldn’t swallow it down. Especially the scent of her perfume clinging to his coat—a cloying, cheap floral scent that wouldn’t dissipate. It felt like a hammer was smashing against my heart. Over and over. Until everything was a bloody, mangled mess. I realized I didn’t want to play pretend anymore. I was the victim. I was the one betrayed. Why was I the one enduring the silence? I looked up at him, cutting off his lecture. “Roman, I saw them.” “The texts between you and her.” 06 I hadn’t intentionally snooped through his phone that day. We had been together for seven years. I believed he loved me, and I gave him my trust. But that night, I woke up suddenly for no reason. Roman was dead to the world after pulling overtime, and I saw his phone light up on the nightstand. I was worried it was a work emergency, so I checked it. The first thing I saw was: “Daddy, were you satisfied with last night’s service?” Followed by several explicit photos. My hand shook so hard I nearly dropped the phone. My brain went white. My first instinct was denial. I couldn’t believe Roman would do this. But my fingers kept scrolling through the logs. Page after page. Month after month. They talked so frequently that it took me over an hour to reach the beginning. It started three years ago. “Mr. Sterling, thank you for the ride. I finally know what it feels like to be the CEO’s favorite.” “Also, thank you for having dinner at my place.” The timestamp was March 25th, 9:10 PM. I remembered that day. It was my birthday. Roman had been three hours late. I had waited for him at home with a cold dinner. He had told me it was a crisis at the office and apologized profusely. Of course, I didn’t blame him. I even comforted him and told him to rest. Now I knew. He was driving a female employee home and staying for dinner. That was the “crisis.” The atmosphere must have been wonderful. Wonderful enough to make him forget I was waiting for him. Wonderful enough to make him abandon every promise he ever made to me. 07 Since that day, Seraphina had been promoted to his personal assistant. Even though they spent every day together, the texting never stopped. It evolved from professional questions to life trivialities, and finally to a full-blown affair. Roman would drop her off before picking me up from work. He solved her problems at the office and fired the male supervisor who gave her a hard time. Whenever he bought a gift for me, he bought an identical one for her. When Seraphina complained about the commute, Roman bought her a condo right next to the office. She was so “grateful” she offered him “thanks.” That was the first time they slept together. “Daddy, I’m waiting for you.” “On my way.” The location was a hotel just a few blocks from our penthouse. What was I doing at that moment? I remembered. I was packing Roman’s suitcase. He told me he had to fly to London for a week. When he didn’t come home that evening, I called him. He told me he’d be home soon. His voice was slightly out of breath. He was probably in bed with her right then. And I had no clue. I was such a fool. Fool enough to notice nothing. Fool enough to keep believing in him. That night, I don’t know how long I sat there. I read those logs over and over. Finally, I replied to Seraphina’s message with three words: “I was satisfied.” Then I deleted the message. I pretended nothing had happened. But I knew Seraphina saw it. And she knew it was me. That’s why she started texting me their meeting times anonymously. And I went. I saw with my own eyes how this man, who constantly whispered “I love you,” looked when he was desperate to get his hands on another woman. 08 The dim light of the living room cast long shadows across Roman’s face. He looked genuinely confused. “Clara? What texts?” I repeated them for him, my voice flat and clinical: “Seven years. I’m bored to death.” “The one I want is you.” “She’d probably go insane if I left.” With every word, the color drained from his face. By the end, he was gripping my wrist so hard he was shaking. He begged me: “Clara, stop. Please, stop.” I looked down at him, my tears finally breaking free. “Roman, when you were with her, did you think about me even once?” “If you were really tired of me, you could have just said so. Did you think I would beg you to stay?” “Seven years. We were about to get married. How could you do this to me? How could you lie to me for three years?” My questions, my sobbing, my heartbreak—none of it could match the agony in my soul. It felt like my heart was being roasted over an open flame. Half charred, half raw. It hurt. It hurt so much I could barely breathe. 09 In truth, I hadn’t cried when I first saw the logs. Or the photos. Or even when I saw them together. I couldn’t cry then. I didn’t know what I was crying for. But now, seeing Roman act like he still cared… I knew him. His concern for me was real. And that was what made it so disgusting. My sobs echoed through the quiet penthouse. Over and over. Roman panicked and pulled me into a fierce embrace, his voice cracking: “Clara, I’m sorry. I was possessed. I swear I only love you. She was just a distraction, a mistake. Please, I’ll make it right—” In the past, whenever he messed up, he’d put on this pitiful act, and I would always cave. But not this time. I pushed him away, slowly and firmly. “Roman, it’s over.” His eyes went red instantly. He looked like he was about to collapse. “Clara, I don’t accept that—” “Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.” That one word made Roman turn as white as a sheet. He instinctively pulled his hands back. I looked at him for a long time, then gave a cold, hollow smile. “Give this back to your little songbird.” “I don’t want it anymore.” I slid the 5-carat engagement ring off my finger and dropped it into his palm. My fingertips were like ice. He instinctively tried to close his hand, but he was too slow. I stood up, walked into the bedroom, grabbed the suitcase I had packed days ago, and walked toward the door without looking back. I heard his frantic footsteps behind me, but he stopped six inches away. His voice was a broken rasp. “Clara, can’t you forgive me just this once?” I paused. But I didn’t turn around. “Goodbye, Roman.” 10 After leaving, I moved into my own apartment. My father passed away in an accident when I was young. My mother remarried when I was ten and had my half-sister, who is now seventeen. The apartment I moved into was an inheritance from my father that my mother transferred to me when I turned eighteen. She loves me, of course, but she loves my little sister more. That’s just how it is. I understand it. I’ve always made it a point not to disturb her new life. Our relationship could be described in four words: Civil, but distant. Breaking up with Roman and canceling a high-society wedding was a major event. I made an appointment with her and went over to tell her a few days later. On my way out, I accidentally bumped into a shelf and broke a ceramic figurine. I took one look at the shattered pieces and closed the door. I told her exactly why we broke up. I didn’t hide a thing. She was silent for a long time before she spoke: “Clara, you spent seven years with him. You turned him from a bratty playboy into the CEO he is today. Are you really just going to hand all that over to another woman? Does that feel right to you?” I was stunned. She continued, “You have leverage now. He’ll never dare to cheat again. And Roman hasn’t announced the breakup yet, which means he still wants you. That other girl is just a toy.” “Everything is still salvageable as long as the news doesn’t get out.” She was analyzing the situation with the cold precision of a computer. But she didn’t sound like a mother. I looked at her and suddenly asked, “Mom, if my sister’s boyfriend cheated on her, would you tell her the same thing? Would you tell her to swallow the betrayal for the sake of ‘leverage’?” “Of course not—” She stopped abruptly, a flash of embarrassment crossing her face. “Clara, that’s not what I meant—” I knew. I knew she wasn’t trying to hurt me. She just… didn’t love me enough to be angry for me. Because she didn’t care as much, she could be “rational.” If it were my sister, she would have been screaming for blood. I should have known this by now. But it still stung. I gave a faint smile. “I get it, Mom.” Before I left, she looked at my haggard face, and a flicker of genuine pity appeared in her eyes: “Clara, you need to take care of yourself.” I hadn’t even responded when a girl’s voice called out from the other room: “Mom! I’m hungry!” My mother’s face lit up instantly. She closed the door and headed back inside. “Coming, princess! Dinner’s already on the table—” Her voice was pure sugar. She didn’t look at me again. I blinked my dry eyes and walked away. 11 When I got home, the ceramic figurine was still lying on the floor. Shattered. I picked up a piece. On the bottom, there was an inscription: “Roman loves Clara. Forever.” It was a gift from our first date. It was Father’s Day, and Roman had crowded into a “paint-your-own-pottery” shop with a bunch of kids. He looked ridiculous and adorable. Someone had even recognized him and posted a video online. At the time, his reputation was trash. He changed girlfriends as often as he changed shirts. I was immediately labeled “The Sterling Heir’s Newest Toy.” I didn’t care about the labels. But he did. He immediately contacted the media to have the video removed and created his first public social media account to announce our relationship: “Clara is the boss. I’m her toy.” The internet went wild. I went to him and told him he didn’t need to demean himself for me, that I didn’t care about the gossip. “Clara, this is about respect.” “I don’t even let myself hurt you; why would I let anyone else? I want you to stand in front of the cameras with your head held high. I won’t let anyone stain your reputation.” I still remember his expression then. Focused. Sincere. Devoted. Even though everything was a mess now, I couldn’t deny that in that moment, he really did love me.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “434855”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • The Secret Scientist: A Mother’s Triumphant Return

    For a top-secret government research project, I spent 5 years stationed in a remote desert facility. Everyone thought I was dead. My mother-in-law wanted to declare me legally dead and pressure my husband to remarry. My daughter’s classmates bullied her, calling her an unwanted child with no mother. … Just then, the research project achieved ultimate success. I appeared at a global press conference. And in front of the entire world, I gave a message to my family: I’m coming home. 1 Thousands of miles of barren land, yellow sand filling the sky. No one would ever imagine that in such a desolate place, there was a highly classified laboratory. After five grueling years, my colleagues and I finally completed our ultimate research project. This was an era-defining scientific breakthrough. Now, we just had to wait three days for the final test results, and we could finally go home. When the time came, we would announce this achievement to the world. I flashed a tired smile and took out my phone, seeing a few more missed calls pop up on the screen. If I scrolled down, I would find tens of thousands of missed calls. All from the exact same person—my husband. This project was strictly top-secret. My family and friends had absolutely no idea where I was. They didn’t even know if I was dead or alive. After I “disappeared,” my husband, Ryan, went crazy looking for me. He had called me tens of thousands of times. I wasn’t allowed any contact with the outside world. But I never changed my phone number. His daily missed calls had become the motivation that kept me going. In three more days, I could finally answer his call. And tell him. I’m here. I’ve always been here. 2 Back in the breakroom, I immediately opened the baby monitor app on my phone. On the screen, a beautiful, porcelain-doll-like little girl blinked her big, watery eyes and said pitifully: “Daddy, Lily has a Parent-Teacher event in three days. I want Mommy to go for me, can she?” Ryan’s voice was heavy with exhaustion: “Mommy went… on a business trip far, far away… Daddy will go for you.” Lily’s voice was full of grievance, and she started crying as she spoke: “Daddy is lying. Lily is five years old this year, but I’ve never even seen Mommy. “Does Lily not have a Mommy at all…?” “Be good, Mommy is just very busy with work. Maybe… she’ll be back in a little while.” “How long is a little while? I want Mommy right now, can I have her?” Lily held onto Ryan’s hand and asked carefully: “All the kids at school have moms. I’m the only one who doesn’t. They say I’m an unwanted kid that nobody loves. “Their moms pick them up after school, make them delicious food, and knit them pretty sweaters. “Daddy, Lily really, really wants a Mommy too. “I promise, I’ll listen to Mommy and won’t make her mad…” Lily was crying so hard she could barely catch her breath. And all of this, I could only watch through the camera, unable to do a single thing. Five years ago. Just days after giving birth to Lily, I was called away on an emergency mission to this desert lab. I had watched Lily grow up through a camera lens. Even just hugging my own daughter had become an impossible luxury. My heart clenched in pain, as if it was soaking in saltwater, bitterly agonizing. 3 Lily tightly held onto Ryan’s hand, refusing to let go. Her thin wrist slipped out from her sleeve, revealing a patch of skin covered in purple bruises. My heart suddenly seized. “What happened here? Did someone at school bully you?” Ryan had also noticed the bruises on Lily’s arm. But this time, Lily stopped talking. “Tell Daddy, who bullied you?” Lily just cried, refusing to speak. Ryan was about to grab his phone to call her homeroom teacher. Lily panicked: “Don’t call the teacher! Daddy, it was… it was the other kids. They said I’m a wild kid with no mom, and they all bullied me. “They pinch me. It hurts. But… when other kids get hurt, their moms comfort them. I don’t have a mom, so I just keep it to myself.” A surge of fury ignited in my chest. I couldn’t believe that kindergarteners already knew how to isolate and bully others. Looking at Lily’s tiny body and the bruises on her skin, my heart felt like it was being sliced open. Ryan’s face tensed up as he frantically and clumsily applied ointment to her bruises. Right before she fell asleep, Lily asked in a small voice: “Daddy, can you ask Mommy to come back sooner? Please? If I have a Mommy, I won’t be an unwanted kid anymore, and the other kids won’t bully me. I really, really want a friend. “They all say my Mommy is in prison. Is that true? “Is Mommy not coming back because I’m not good enough? “Tell Mommy to come back, Daddy. I promise I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be so good…” With a teardrop hanging from the corner of her eye, Lily drifted into a deep sleep. 4 Hearing those pure, innocent words, a tidal wave of guilt drowned me. Lily was at the prime age of growing up, yet I couldn’t be by her side. I looked at Ryan on the screen. Suddenly, his phone rang, and he hurried to the living room to answer it. It was my mother-in-law calling again. Just like always, she nagged from the other end of the line: “Ryan, why are you still dragging that burden around? I found a great girl from a good family for you. She’s perfect in every way, and she’s never been married. You need to go meet her.” My mother-in-law had a loud, grating voice, constantly pushing Ryan to go on blind dates. “Mom, I’ll say this one more time. Lily is my daughter, not a burden.” Ryan frowned, unhappy with her words. Seeing this, his mother immediately changed her tune: “Okay, okay, okay, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have called the little girl that. “But let’s talk about my daughter-in-law. Can we talk about her?” Ryan was silent. Seeing an opening, she continued: “She disappeared for five years. God knows where she’s fooling around having a good time. Has she thought about this family for even a second?” Ryan’s brows furrowed deeply, and his mother scoffed: “Don’t be in such a rush to argue with me. Am I wrong? If someone dies, there’s a death certificate, right? Even if she went to prison, the police would notify us! But she’s not dead, and she’s not in jail. She just vanished without leaving a single word. “Fooling around outside, abandoning this family. “Because of this mess, the neighbors, relatives, and friends have been gossiping non-stop. At my age, she’s made me lose all my dignity…” “Mom, if you keep talking about Clara like this, I’m hanging up,” Ryan flared up, his voice revealing his exhaustion. “I’ve been looking for her all these years. Maybe she ran into some trouble… Maybe she’ll come back one day. “Stop thinking the worst of her.” His mother wiped her tears (or so she sounded): “I’m thinking the worst of her? “Ryan, who am I playing the bad guy for? Look at yourself. For the past five years, you’ve been playing both mom and dad. You work full-time and take care of the kid. The stray dogs on the street have a better life than you. “As a wife, has she fulfilled even half of her duties? “Look at Lily. The people who know the truth say she has a mom who left right after she was born. Those who don’t? Don’t they just call her a feral child? “Listen to me. Find someone new, declare her mother legally dead. From now on, you’ll have someone to support you, and Lily will have someone to love her. Isn’t that better?” My mother-in-law knew Lily was her son’s weak spot. She reasoned in circles, playing the family card masterfully. Ryan finally sighed: “I’ll think about it.” Seeing he didn’t flat-out refuse, she eagerly emphasized: “The day after tomorrow, remember to clean up a bit… Don’t forget.” 5 Ryan sat in the living room with the lights off. The moonlight fell on his back, making him look exceptionally lonely. He pulled out our wedding photo from a drawer and stared at it for a long time. His face glistened with tears. “Where exactly did you go? I need you, and Lily misses you so much. “I’m so, so tired. I can barely hold on anymore. “Clara, don’t be so cruel… come back.” He murmured to himself in a low voice. The washing machine in the bathroom beeped urgently. He wiped his face and hurried to take the clothes out to hang them up. Then, he boiled a simple bowl of plain noodles. He ate it by himself, not even willing to add an egg to it. After scarfing down his dinner, he opened his daughter’s backpack and checked her homework, word by word. Reading his daughter’s diary, seeing that childish handwriting expressing how much she missed the mother she’d never met, my tears and Ryan’s fell at the exact same time. He worked until the early hours of the morning before finally falling into a deep sleep. Watching Ryan completely exhausted, mumbling in his sleep, my heart broke. If I could, I would comfort him, stay by his side, and tell him I was coming home right away. I turned off the phone. Without realizing it, my face was also covered in cold tears. It had been five years. Every time I saw Ryan and Lily, my heart was torn between family and professional duty. They had suffered too much injustice because of me. Lily, Hubby, just wait for me a little longer. In three more days, I’ll be home. Three days from now, I will personally attend Lily’s Parent-Teacher event. I will tell everyone that Lily has a mother. 6 The project was in its wrap-up phase, just two days from completion. Five years of work was done, and I suddenly had free time. So, unconsciously, I found myself checking the home cameras. “Clara, watching your daughter again?” The lab director, Dr. Harris, walked by and smiled as he greeted me. I didn’t try to hide it, openly letting him look at the little girl on the screen—my daughter, Lily. Since I was using the dedicated military network, this was tacitly allowed by the director. Using this network to view the cameras wouldn’t leave any trace. Two days passed quickly, and my heart suddenly grew tense. Tomorrow was the day the test results would come out, and it was also the day of Lily’s Parent-Teacher event. Right now. She was sitting obediently at the dining table, chewing on her spoon, looking at Ryan with big, hopeful eyes: “Daddy, Mrs. Davis said tomorrow is the Parent-Teacher event.” Ryan’s expression paused, then he took two bites of his food: “Yeah, I know. Daddy will go for you.” Lily bit her lip: “But, Mrs. Davis said it’s best if mommies go…” “It’s the same if I go.” Ryan avoided Lily’s gaze and patted her head. In the past, when he said this, Lily would just obediently stay quiet. But today’s situation was clearly different from what Ryan expected. “Daddy, all the other kids have their mommies going. I’m the only exception. They’re going to call me a weirdo, a wild kid without a mom. They’re definitely going to make fun of me…” Through the monitor, I could instantly see Lily’s sensitive heart. Her personality was very much like mine when I was little. Stubborn and sensitive. This was evident from how she hid the fact that she was being bullied. If this kind of personality wasn’t properly guided and comforted, it could easily turn into paranoia and low self-esteem. Not to mention, Lily was currently in a crucial developmental stage that shapes character. Ryan paused for a long time, his face full of bitterness. Just as he was about to say something, my mother-in-law called: “…How about I go to Lily’s Parent-Teacher event?” My mother-in-law volunteering was a surprise to Ryan. On the other end of the line, she continued: “I’ll go to the event for Lily. Don’t worry about it, just clean yourself up and go on that blind date.” As soon as she finished speaking, Ryan instinctively declined: “Mom, forget it. You’re getting older, it’s not convenient. It’s better if I take Lily.” Hearing this, she got anxious: “Ryan, what is wrong with you? Didn’t you promise you would go?” … My mother-in-law and Ryan argued back and forth, refusing to yield. Just then. Lily’s tiny voice broke the stalemate: “Daddy, Mrs. Davis said tomorrow at the event, parents and kids have to perform a show together…” Hearing this, Ryan seized the opportunity: “Mom, you heard her. Tomorrow requires parents to perform with the kids. “Lily is shy, it’s better if I take her for the performance. Plus, you don’t know how to do those trendy modern shows…” Helpless, his mother had to agree: “Fine, then hurry up and go to the date right after the event is over…” 7 Watching the monitor. My feelings were a bit complicated. To say I wasn’t bothered at all by Ryan going on a blind date would be impossible. But even so, what could I do? I was the one who disappeared for five years. I was the one who left my husband and daughter behind. I was the one who made them suffer so much injustice. A person is judged by their actions, not their thoughts; if judged by thoughts, there would be no saints. Ryan had waited for me for five years. I knew that. Him agreeing now was just to appease his mother. I put down my phone, stood up, and went to the director’s office. “Clara, let’s hear it. What’s up?” “Dr. Harris, once the results are out tomorrow, we should be able to contact the outside world, right?” The director nodded: “Of course.” “Tomorrow, if the experiment is successful, can I be the first to call my family?” I explained, “Tomorrow is my daughter’s Parent-Teacher event at school. I’ve failed as a mother all these years. I want to be there for her as soon as possible.” The director understood what I meant. He looked at me in surprise and asked: “Clara, aren’t you going to attend tomorrow’s press conference?” He advised me with a hint of regret: “Think about it. You lived in this desert incognito for five years. How much did you suffer? How much effort did you put in? For a single test, you’d work for days on end, grabbing a few bites of cold food in between, eating only one or two meals a day. You were a fresh, vibrant young woman when you got here. Look at how exhausted you look now. “Tomorrow you deserve to tell the whole world how much you sacrificed for this project.” I remained silent for a moment: “Dr. Harris, thank you for your support and mentorship. But for me, no matter how many awards I get, no matter how much glory, nothing is as important as seeing my daughter’s smile.” I missed her one-month celebration, her first birthday, her fifth birthday, every Thanksgiving, Christmas, family dinner… Other kids had perfect families, parents to celebrate their birthdays, buying them pretty clothes… But my Lily, she had nothing. I had missed a full five years. But from this day forward, I didn’t want to miss another second. Now, having done my duty to my country, it was time to fulfill my duty as a mother. I wanted to be by her side every single day for the rest of her life. The director didn’t push any further. As a veteran scientist, he understood my sacrifice. “Dr. Harris, is it possible for the organization to arrange a vehicle to take me back tomorrow?” I hesitated for a moment before asking. This desert was extremely remote; there was basically no transportation nearby. Hearing this, the director waved his hand: “You said tomorrow is your daughter’s Parent-Teacher event? “We won’t arrange a car. I’ll contact logistics and clear a helicopter to fly you there. “Leave early, so you can make it in time for the event.” I hurriedly thanked my boss. He reached out and patted my shoulder: “Don’t worry, the organization won’t let down any of its researchers. You’ve had it too hard these past five years. Whatever you need in the future, just ask. If we can accommodate it, we absolutely will.”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “434840”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • My Daughter-in-Law Was Erased by the System, So I Destroyed My Son

    My daughter-in-law is dead. She was a System Host, just like me. I had good luck. I successfully completed my mission, settled down in this world, married, and had a child. But she was obliterated by the System. 1. I called my son to tell him the news of his wife’s death. Arthur just scoffed on the other end of the line. “Mom, how did she buy you off? I can’t believe you’re helping her trick me into coming home with such a pathetic excuse.” I was so furious at this idiot I could hardly breathe. If the official death certificate didn’t take a few days to process, I would have slammed it right into his stupid face. Arthur lowered his voice, trying to placate me: “Mom, Claire’s depression is getting worse. The doctor says she’s having suicidal thoughts.” “I’ll come back once she’s doing a bit better.” This bastard might be my biological son, but he was also the designated Capture Target the System assigned to my daughter-in-law. Whenever Arthur bullied my daughter-in-law for the sake of his “first love,” I stepped in to help her. But the System issued a severe warning. If I interfered as an anomaly again, it would automatically declare her mission a failure. No one knows the consequences of a failed mission better than I do. I had to stand by and watch. The feeling was a mix of agonizing heartbreak and utter helplessness. I kept Evelyn’s funeral low-profile, handling it alongside her adoptive parents. Looking at Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, whose hair seemed to have turned completely white overnight, I couldn’t find a single word of comfort. After all, this was entirely the fault of my bastard son. 2. The day Arthur and Claire returned to the country, he stormed into the house in a blind rage, screaming his wife’s name. “Evelyn! Evelyn! Get your ass out here right now!” I didn’t move. I just watched my son lose his mind with cold, dead eyes. He searched the entire mansion. Finding no trace of her, he ran up to me: “Mom, where is Evelyn? Where the hell is she hiding?” “She’s dead in the ocean. I scattered her ashes in the Pacific.” Arthur looked at me like I was a lunatic. “Mom, stop messing around. Do you know what she did? She secretly leaked the fact that we’re married to TMZ.” “Now the whole internet is attacking Claire, calling her a homewrecker.” “How could she be so vicious?! Claire couldn’t handle the cyberbullying and collapsed. She’s in the hospital!” A cold smirk crept up the corners of my mouth. “Couldn’t handle it? If she can’t handle a little heat, why is she an actress?” Arthur didn’t expect me to take Evelyn’s side so blatantly. He was furious. “Mom, did Evelyn brainwash you?! I’m your actual son!” Heh. If I had known you would turn out to be such world-class trash, I would have drowned you the day you were born. Too lazy to argue, I stood up and headed upstairs. As I walked, I dialed my company’s PR director. “Did you see the trending topics on X?” “Yes, Mrs. Sterling. The one accusing the rising pop star of stepping into your son’s marriage.” “Take it down? Why would we take it down? Double the budget! Don’t let that hashtag drop!” Behind me, my son’s deafening roar echoed through the foyer: “MOM!” 3. The hashtag was eventually taken down by my bastard son. Not only that, but he hired fixers to release a fake relationship timeline between him and Claire. He painted Evelyn as a malicious, gold-digging schemer who forced her way into his bed and drove a heartbroken Claire out of the country. Claire then hosted an Instagram Live. Tearfully, she choked out a story about how she and my son had been deeply in love since college. She claimed the real homewrecker was Evelyn. Honestly, all she had to do was open her mouth, and the internet ate up her lies. Thanks to Arthur’s massive capital backing, Claire’s image was quickly washed clean, and public opinion completely flipped. My assistant asked me: “Mrs. Sterling, should we issue a statement to clear your daughter-in-law’s name?” My face was like ice. “Tell the PR department to prep all the dirt we have. Stay on standby.” Having navigated the corporate shark tank for decades, I knew one universal truth. When you strike, you strike to kill. You make sure your enemies can never rise again. There will be plenty of time for them to regret it later. 4. When Arthur came home that night, the first thing he did was call for his wife. “Evelyn, my stomach ulcer is acting up. Bring me my meds.” I sat at the dining table, slowly eating my dinner, treating him like empty air. Arthur walked up to me, looking confused. “Mom, why are you eating alone? Where is Evelyn?” “What? When you need something, it’s Evelyn. When you’re fine, it’s Claire?” Arthur’s face paled. He looked away unnaturally. “Mom, Claire and I aren’t what you think.” Oh, isn’t that the classic scumbag manifesto? “Mom, my stomach hurts. Call Evelyn and tell her to come home.” “What is her problem anyway? I’ve been back for days and haven’t even seen her. Does she even want to be married anymore?” I gave him a sideways glance, finding the audacity hilarious. “You run off to accompany another woman all day, but you demand Evelyn stay on standby at home? We don’t have a royal throne for you to inherit, boy.” Arthur stiffened his neck and argued back: “Mom, fine, you don’t care that my stomach hurts. But why are you always snapping at me? Is this how a real mother acts?!” Ugh. Looking at my son’s punchable face and listening to his garbage behavior, I instantly lost my appetite. I pushed my plate away, preparing to go upstairs, change, and leave. Arthur’s face was livid. “Mom, Evelyn ran straight to Claire and used our history to trigger her! She caused Claire’s depression to spiral into a suicide attempt. That’s the only reason I took her abroad to recover!” “And when I confronted Evelyn, she played the victim and expected me to believe her. She’s shameless!” “Tell her that if she doesn’t want to come back, she can stay gone forever!” I replied effortlessly, “Okay. Sounds good.” There were security cameras in the house. After Evelyn died, I watched the footage of the fight Arthur picked with her over Claire. Arthur’s words had been absolutely merciless. At the end of the footage, he slammed the door and left. Evelyn squatted on the floor, burying her face in her knees. Her shoulders shook violently as she sobbed, asking the System what she should do. She always acted like she was only here for the mission. But I knew. The mission was just an excuse. She had genuinely fallen in love with him. As a veteran Host who had survived countless worlds, I had constantly warned her: Never give your heart to the Target. Love is the most useless thing for a System Host. It only slows down your extraction speed. But it was too late. Evelyn told me that during college, because she was quiet and introverted, she was heavily bullied by a guy who was obsessed with her. In her most desperate, helpless moment, Arthur stepped in front of her and saved her. He became her light, protecting her throughout her four years of college. And Evelyn had secretly loved him for those entire four years. She was already in too deep to pull out. 5. Arthur clearly didn’t expect me to agree. He let out a shocked sound. “Mom?” “Don’t worry. Evelyn won’t ever come back. Not ever.” I turned my back to him, tilting my head up to force the tears back into my eyes. Arthur furrowed his brows. “Mom, if this is some twisted tactic you and Evelyn cooked up to force me to cut ties with Claire, I am absolutely not compromising.” I remembered a time when Evelyn had severe cramps, in so much agonizing pain she was pale and sweating. She just wanted Arthur to stay home with her. But because of one single phone call from Claire, Arthur ignored Evelyn’s pleas and insisted on leaving. I physically blocked the door, locked him inside, and confiscated his phone. The System immediately issued multiple red-alert warnings. Evelyn’s vital signs even began to drop drastically. Terrified, I had no choice but to unlock the door and let the bastard go. After he left, Evelyn held onto me, crying until she almost threw up. This kind, beautiful girl had been an orphan before she came to this world, tasting nothing but the bitterness of life. After being selected as a Host, she finally gained parents who loved her, and she was so fiercely independent it broke my heart. Even when she was bullied in college, she didn’t dare tell her parents, not wanting to be a burden. After Arthur brought Claire back, he did countless horrible things to Evelyn. Whenever I tried to intervene, Evelyn would always beg me not to ruin my relationship with my son. And the damn System constantly threatened me with Evelyn’s obliteration, forcing me to endure the agony of being a bystander. Thinking of Evelyn, now erased from existence, my mood plummeted. I waved a dismissive hand at my son. “Get out. I don’t want to look at you.” Arthur stormed out in a huff. 6. A few days later, the Sterling Group hosted its annual corporate gala. I never expected Arthur to actually bring Claire to the event. When Claire saw me, the timid, cautious demeanor she had years ago was entirely gone. With Arthur momentarily away, she walked up to me, a smug smile on her face. “Mrs. Sterling, you tried so hard to stop Arthur and me from being together back then. But look, after all these years, the one he truly loves is still me.” I gracefully smoothed a stray hair on my forehead, completely unfazed by her provocation. “Are you so sure my son still loves you?” Claire’s eyes instantly reddened, putting on a flawless act of being bullied. Arthur rushed over, shielding Claire behind him. He looked at me with exasperation. “Mom, can you please stop picking on Claire?” I laughed out loud. “Which one of your eyes saw me picking on her?” Claire, playing the delicate white flower, sniffled and wiped away invisible tears. “Arthur, don’t blame your mother. It’s perfectly normal that she doesn’t like me.” “After all, you come from such a wealthy family, and you’re so outstanding. I don’t deserve you.” Arthur, who had been raised to be respectful, didn’t dare yell at me in public. So he turned to comfort Claire instead. “Don’t take what my mom says to heart. She’s been spoiled by my dad her whole life, so her temper isn’t great. But she’s all bark and no bite.” Too much of a bitch. I couldn’t watch this anymore. As I walked away, I heard Claire whisper to him: “Arthur, is the only reason you won’t divorce Evelyn because your mom won’t allow it?” 7. The paparazzi are excellent at catching the scent of blood. The Sterling Group’s corporate gala didn’t make waves for its business deals. Instead, Arthur and Claire skyrocketed to the top of the trending lists. #SterlingGroupCEOAndPopStarClaireVanceEngagementRumors #ArthurSterlingHoldsHandsWithClaireVanceAtGala #SterlingCEOMakesRelationshipPublic Every media outlet seemed to conveniently forget that the CEO of the Sterling Group, Arthur Sterling, had a legally wedded wife. Occasionally, a few comments would question why Arthur hadn’t announced a divorce, calling Claire a mistress, but they were quickly deleted by PR bots. Arthur and Claire… what a perfect pair of scumbags. 8. That night, my darling son didn’t come home. The paparazzi caught him and Claire entering a five-star hotel owned by the Sterling Group, sparking another wave of trending gossip. The next morning, I hired a moving company to clear out every single thing that belonged to my daughter-in-law. Including their massive wedding portraits. The butler stood nervously to the side, watching me. “Madam, if you clear out all of the young miss’s belongings… won’t you leave even a single keepsake for the young master?” “He isn’t worthy of Evelyn. He would only taint the pure love she gave him.” The butler sighed and said nothing. Looking at the empty, hollow house, I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my aged face. My son was Evelyn’s first Capture Target. And her last. I couldn’t help but curse the System: “Out of everyone in this world you could have chosen as the Target, why did it have to be my son?!” The System’s mechanical voice echoed in my head: “This was the Host’s own choice.” I had nothing to say. 9. When Arthur finally came home, he instinctively called out for his wife. “Evelyn! I’m starving, make me a bowl of noodles!” The housekeeper ran out from the kitchen. “Sir, what kind of noodles would you like? I can make them.” Arthur waved his hand impatiently. “No, I want the way Evelyn makes them.” The housekeeper looked at me, hesitating. I gave her a look, and she wisely retreated to her quarters. “Mom, where is Evelyn—” Arthur suddenly froze, his eyes widening in anger. “Where are the wedding photos?” As if realizing something, he sprinted upstairs. A few minutes later, the slam of his bedroom door shook the walls. He stormed back down to me, suppressing his rage. “Mom? What the hell is Evelyn playing at? Is she serious? She emptied the closet! Her clothes, bags, shoes—all gone!” “She even took her skincare bottles off the vanity?! Real mature!” I gave him a half-smile. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Making room for your precious first love.” Arthur pulled out his phone and rapidly dialed Evelyn’s number over and over. Every time, it went straight to an automated out-of-service message. He aggressively ran his hands through his hair, pacing. “Mom, is she seriously trying to divorce me? I don’t believe it!” “She loves me to death! To help cure my stomach ulcers, she spent months researching healthy recipes and cooking for me.” “When we took our wedding photos, I looked miserable the whole time, but she still smiled, called me handsome, and treated that portrait like a treasure, dusting it every single day.” “The year Dad died, the company was in crisis. I was out every night begging for investments, getting bullied by execs, drinking until I threw up blood.” “After that, Evelyn came with me to every business dinner. She took the drinks for me until she was hospitalized for alcohol poisoning.” “She did all of that for me. I refuse to believe she actually wants a divorce.” “This is definitely just a trick. She’s throwing a tantrum so I’ll prove I love her. Well, I’m not playing her game.” “Let’s see how long she can keep up this silent treatment if I just ignore her!” With that, Arthur kicked a priceless porcelain vase in a fit of rage. It shattered across the floor, and he stormed out of the house. A chilling cold spread through my heart. So he knew. He knew everything Evelyn did for him. He just weaponized her love, abusing it without consequence because he knew she wouldn’t leave. She bet her body and soul on this mission, and in the end, she died for it. 10. Suffocating in the house, I met up with a friend to go shopping in Beverly Hills. I didn’t expect to run into my bastard son, accompanying Claire on a shopping spree, at the Chanel boutique. My friend patted my arm, gesturing for me to look over. Claire was clinging to Arthur’s arm, smiling coyly. We walked closer, staying out of sight, and overheard Claire whining: “I really, really love this bag. Buy it for me, Arthur?” “That bag is reserved for Evelyn. I already ordered it for her. I’ll get you a different one for your birthday.” My friend and I exchanged a look of pure shock. Did the sun rise in the west today? Arthur actually refused Claire’s request for Evelyn’s sake. Claire pressed her body entirely against his chest, her voice sickeningly sweet: “Arthur, Evelyn already has so many bags. She doesn’t need this one, right?” “Doesn’t she have your black card anyway? Didn’t you say she loves using your card to buy bags?” “Can’t you just let me have this one? Please?” Those few sentences were a masterclass in manipulative guilt-tripping. My friend and I had seen enough and walked away arm in arm. It didn’t matter anyway. Evelyn was gone. Even if Arthur bought the bag for Claire, Evelyn wouldn’t be here to get her heart broken.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “434841”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • Deadly Clout: My Influencer Cousin Faked a Home Invasion, So I Responded with a 12-Gauge

    My clout-chasing cousin staged a malicious prank that sent my grandmother into cardiac arrest. After the video went viral on TikTok, she decided to up the ante: she was going to hire fake armed robbers to break into our house and terrorize my grandmother again. My response? I bought a 12-gauge shotgun. When the “robbers” broke in, I didn’t hesitate. I pulled the trigger. 1. It was Thanksgiving, a rare occasion for the whole family to gather under one roof. Uncles, aunts, and cousins crammed into my grandmother’s house for the holiday. My younger cousin, Chloe, who barely ever visited, actually showed up this year. Because she was the youngest, Grandma spoiled her the most. At the dinner table, Grandma was constantly fussing over her, passing her the gravy, cutting the turkey, and making sure her plate was full. But Chloe didn’t care. She was entirely absorbed in her livestream, shoving her phone in everyone’s faces. The constant loud chatter and obnoxious behavior left the whole family rolling their eyes. Finally, I spoke up: “You have millions of followers. It’s not cool to film the whole family and put us on the internet without asking.” She rolled her eyes at me with pure disdain. “You don’t get it. Holiday traffic is peaking right now, and traffic equals money! Besides, we’re all family. Don’t be so stingy.” She immediately spun back to her camera, puckering her lips. “Omg, thank you for the Galaxy gift, besties! Mua!” I couldn’t stomach her fake, sickeningly sweet persona. “Stop filming me.” I reached out and pushed the camera lens away from my face. I didn’t mind a quick picture for Instagram, but being broadcasted to an audience of millions made my skin crawl. “God, Harper, what century are you living in?” Chloe mocked, her tone dripping with passive-aggression. “Are you from the 1800s? You think a camera is gonna steal your soul?” “It’s rare for all of us to be together, let’s keep the peace,” Grandma quickly intervened, trying to smooth things over. “Chloe, sweetie, just put the phone away for dinner.” I swallowed my anger. It was Thanksgiving, and I didn’t want to ruin the night for Grandma, so I let it go. But I never expected her to take things even further. I had just walked into the kitchen to slice some pecan pie when I heard a blood-curdling scream coming from Grandma’s bedroom upstairs. I sprinted up the stairs and burst into the room. Grandma had collapsed on the floor, completely unconscious. Right beside her lay a highly realistic, remote-controlled rattlesnake. Chloe was standing there, holding her phone on a selfie stick, looking blankly at the screen as the live chat exploded. “I… I didn’t think she’d be this scared…” A furious, blinding rage erupted inside me. I wanted to smash her phone to pieces and slap her across the face. Trading a family member’s health for views. She had absolutely no bottom line. But Grandma’s life was the priority. I shoved Chloe aside and immediately dialed 911. When the paramedics arrived, I helped them load Grandma onto the stretcher. Just as the ambulance doors were about to close, Chloe hopped in. “I’ll go with you guys.” I thought she was actually stepping up to take responsibility. Instead, the second the ambulance started moving, she started her livestream again. She even pointed her camera directly at the EMT who was performing emergency CPR. “Guys, my Grandma is having a heart attack. The medics are doing CPR. This is all because of the prank you guys voted for! Spam ‘1’ in the chat to tell the Grim Reaper to back off! Help your girl out, drop some prayers in the chat!” The EMT glared at her, shaking his head in disbelief. Hearing her absolute sociopathic nonsense, I lunged forward and snatched the phone from her hand. “Chloe, that is enough!” Chloe panicked. “I’m live! Give it back!” I angrily ended the stream and threw the phone right at her chest. If Grandma wasn’t fighting for her life right now, I would have ripped her hair out. She scoffed, caught her phone, and muttered, “It’s just a joke. We’re family. You can’t even take a joke.” “What the hell did you just say?” I snarled. She huffed indignantly. “She’s not gonna die! Why are you yelling at me?! It’s not a big deal, why did you have to throw my phone?” I fought down the urge to strangle her, telling myself I’d deal with her once Grandma was stable. But Chloe wasn’t done. “It was just a little prank! Grandma probably won’t even be mad at me! You’re the one making everyone panic. Am I not allowed to love Grandma just because I stream? I literally asked my chat to pray for her! Stop gaslighting me with your fake moral high ground!” I was so livid I was seeing red. “If Grandma pulls through, I am going to destroy you,” I warned her coldly, then ignored her for the rest of the ride. Luckily, we got her to the hospital in time. She was immediately rushed into the ICU. My dad, my uncles, and my aunts were pacing the waiting room in pure agony. That’s when Chloe appeared, putting on a flawless, tearful act. My dad thought she was coming to apologize and sighed, “We’re family, we know it was an accident. Just don’t do stupid stuff like this anymore.” Chloe nodded obediently. I thought the drama was over. But later, passing by the hospital stairwell, I overheard Chloe’s voice. “Hey besties, I got my family’s forgiveness! I told you guys they wouldn’t actually be mad at me. Grandma is in the ICU right now, so I’m doing a quick stream. Dropping a few Super Chats to help me pay for Grandma’s hospital bills wouldn’t hurt, right?” Standing in the shadows, I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth would shatter. 2. This wasn’t her first time pulling this garbage. Since she arrived for the holidays, she had been a relentless menace. Pranking people, humiliating them on camera, and exposing their insecurities—that was her secret to going viral. She knew my nephew Tyler was struggling with math and science, hoping to get an art scholarship instead. She had shoved her phone right into Tyler’s face: “Tyler, what did you get on your SATs? Didn’t your dad pay thousands for that prep course? If your grades are trash, being good at painting won’t save you. You’re never going to get into a good college.” In front of the entire extended family, the poor kid’s face turned beet red. He was young, prideful, but too shy to snap back. The awkward, humiliating tension immediately brought a surge of viewers to her stream. Later, egged on by her toxic chat, she secretly logged into Tyler’s Xbox and deleted all his saved game data, causing the kid to lock himself in his room for three days. When she saw me playing video games in the living room, she sidled up to me, aiming the camera: “Harper, why are you gaming all day? Haven’t seen you FaceTime a boyfriend all weekend. You’re 25 and still single… wait, don’t tell me you’re still a virgin?” My dad and uncles were sitting right there watching football. I was mortified and furious, my fists balling up at my sides. She put on this smug, ‘know-it-all’ tone. “Aww, is Harper blushing? No way, you’re 25 and never done it? People are gonna laugh at you, girl.” When she saw my Uncle Mark, she enthusiastically dragged him into the frame. Uncle Mark was a laid-back guy, so he just smiled and waved at the chat. But then she zoomed in on his face. “Uncle Mark, your dark circles are crazy. Do you have erectile dysfunction or something? Low testosterone? You’re only 39!” Uncle Mark froze, his smile dying instantly. There were over a dozen relatives in the room. And she ruthlessly doubled down: “Guess my aunt is being left unsatisfied, huh?” Uncle Mark couldn’t even speak; he looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. As the topics got more outrageous, her viewer count skyrocketed. Chloe was absolutely ecstatic, her face twisting into an ugly, greedy grin. I knew then that she was going to do something even worse. Sure enough. When my cousin Ryan brought his new girlfriend home for the first time, Chloe pounced. She didn’t just say hi. She grabbed Ryan’s arm, pressing her chest against him, demanding they take a selfie for Instagram. She was overly handsy, clinging to his shoulder. It made all of us uncomfortable, let alone his new girlfriend. Ryan looked pissed and tried to pull his girlfriend away. Chloe yelled after them, “Wow, haven’t seen you in a few years and suddenly you’re too good for me just because you work in the city now? Have you forgotten when we were toddlers running around in diapers playing husband and wife?!” Unsurprisingly, Ryan’s girlfriend looked horrified. Chloe just proudly looked at her chat. “Pranking 999 people challenge! That makes 27! Keep it up, Chloe, you’re doing great!” 3. A week later, Grandma was finally moved out of the ICU. However, her heart condition had severely worsened due to the shock. The doctors recommended a highly specialized, high-risk surgery. After discussing it with the family, I decided to take Grandma to a top-tier cardiac clinic in Texas for the operation and her subsequent recovery. What I didn’t expect was that the video of Chloe’s snake prank had absolutely exploded online. In a matter of days, it racked up nearly ten million likes on TikTok. I clicked on the video. The comments were sickening. People thought it was just a harmless, staged skit. They had no idea my grandmother almost died. “The ultimate prankster! 10/10 content.” “Pranking your own family is ruthless, but it’s a thousand times better than those fake street pranks.” “Lmao the way Grandma dropped to the floor is kinda cute.” “Karma -1 for laughing.” “Everyone saying Karma -1, chill. Isn’t there a line? She’s elderly. What if she literally had a heart attack?” “Look at the fun police up here! Bro, it’s called entertainment. It’s obviously scripted and acted out.” The intense controversy only fueled the algorithm. The video went mega-viral. As much as I hated Chloe’s guts, I was too busy taking care of Grandma to deal with her. But then, Chloe posted an update that pushed me past my breaking point. In the video, she looked hyped. After thanking her fans for the views, she announced she was turning the family pranks into a series. The next episode would be “Pranking Grandma Pt. 2”. She boldly claimed she was collaborating with a famous, extreme prank squad. I knew exactly who they were. They were a notorious group of YouTubers who got views by harassing innocent people and making them miserable. They would stop exhausted construction workers on the street and ask them why they didn’t apply Sephora makeup before leaving the house. When the bewildered workers just smiled awkwardly into the camera, the internet turned them into memes. Or they would chase down amputees, shove cameras in their faces, and ask why they didn’t just walk on two legs. Then they’d answer their own question: “Oh, because hopping on one leg is faster! Makes sense!” They called their flavor of exploiting disabled and working-class people “post-modern dark comedy.” If anyone got mad, they just gaslit them: “Bro, it’s just a prank. Why are you so pressed?” Everyone hated them in real life, but online, they pulled millions of views. Right now, I had just settled Grandma into a rental house in rural Texas after her successful surgery. Chloe announced she was flying out to prank us again. She even posted a cinematic trailer for “Pranking Grandma Pt. 2”, revealing the plot: they were going to dress up as armed robbers, break into our house, and hold us hostage. I let out a cold laugh and closed TikTok. You want to break into my house in Texas? I don’t care if you’re a fake robber or a real one. You’re not walking out of here alive. If she wanted to play Russian Roulette with her life, I would gladly pull the trigger. 4. The trailer for “Pranking Grandma Pt. 2” caused a massive uproar online. Her follower count surged once again. Millions of people were waiting to see her terrorize my grandmother a second time. Fueled by the hype, Chloe posted daily updates: her plane tickets, ski masks, realistic prop guns, fake blood… Every post drove the internet into a frenzy of anticipation. A few days later, she and her prank squad touched down in Texas. And I took my ID and walked into a local gun shop. Seeing a customer, the owner immediately walked over and asked what I was looking for. “If you want to go hunting, I recommend this rifle. Great penetration, fast reload…” “If it’s for home defense, this compact 9mm is great…” I cut him off. “If I am a woman, home alone, and a group of armed men kicks down my front door, what do I use to stop them instantly?” The owner paused, clearly taken aback by the specific scenario. “What? A whole group of robbers?” “Oh, I see. You want stopping power.” He reached up to the rack behind the counter and pulled down a sleek, matte-black 12-gauge tactical shotgun. “One trigger pull clears the hallway. You could have a grizzly bear charging you, and this would put it on its back.” Feeling the heavy, cold weight of the steel in my hands, I made my decision instantly. “I’ll take it. Give me the buckshot.” You want to play games in my house? I’m going to blow you to pieces. The next day, Chloe posted a photo of her squad at the local Texas airport with the caption: “Going to give you guys the surprise of a lifetime tonight!” At that moment, I was running a cloth over the barrel of my new shotgun. I’ve got a surprise for you, too. In Texas, the Castle Doctrine is absolute. If someone forcefully breaks into your occupied home, you have the legal right to use deadly force to protect yourself. Especially if they look like armed robbers. Whether it was a prank or not, how was I supposed to know? The clock ticked by. That evening, I was in Grandma’s room, helping her change the bandages from her surgery. Suddenly, I heard the crunch of heavy footsteps on the gravel outside. Followed by aggressive, rapid banging on the front door. I peeked through the blinds. They had already set up multiple tripod cameras on the lawn. I calmly pulled out my phone and opened TikTok. Sure enough, they were live. The viewer count was skyrocketing, the chat moving so fast it was a blur. “The hype is real! It’s finally starting!” “Lmao I bet the cousin is gonna piss her pants. Even if she knows it’s a prank, she’s gonna be terrified.” “For real, Chloe’s props and acting are way too good.” “Kick the door down already! I want to see the grandma’s face! She’s so cute when she’s scared!” “If the homeowner literally gets a heart attack, Chloe is a menace and I love it.” “Taking bets! How many seconds until the cousin starts crying?” I quietly put my phone in my pocket. I didn’t respond to the violent knocking. Instead, I walked into the living room. I pulled the shotgun from behind the couch, loaded the shells, and clicked off the safety. The show was about to begin. I raised the shotgun, aiming the black barrel dead center at the wooden front door. Standing on the other side of the wood, I shouted: “Who is it?!” The second they breached, I was going to turn them into Swiss cheese.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “434842”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel