Category: English

On the night of our engagement banquet, in front of the entire high society of New York, Julian Vance handed over “The Siren’s Lament”—a priceless, legendary violin—to his childhood sweetheart, Bianca Frost. “Bianca is starting her world tour tomorrow. She needs this violin more than you do,” he said. “You’ve always been the sensible one, Valerie. Just bear with it this once.” I looked at the man I had loved for five years and nodded calmly. “Okay.” Half an hour later, in the empty backstage dressing room. Bianca didn’t just smash that legendary violin to pieces. She also had her thugs stomp on my right hand, crushing the bones. Julian’s cousin, Tyler, held my head down, forcing me to kneel and beg Bianca for forgiveness. Julian’s mother slapped me so hard my eardrum ruptured, calling me a greedy, low-class gold digger. They ruthlessly trampled on my dignity and destroyed my dreams. Because in their eyes, I was just a penniless orphan with no background. But what they didn’t know… I wasn’t just a prodigy violinist. I was also the sole heiress of the Sterling family—the most powerful old-money empire in New York—who had been searching for me for twenty years. My hand is ruined. And the Vance family’s century-old empire has officially reached its end.

The brilliant crystal chandeliers lit up the hotel grand ballroom as bright as day. Today was the anniversary celebration of the Vance Group. It was also the day Julian had promised to formally propose to me. I stood quietly at the edge of the stage, wearing a haute couture white gown. My fingers tightly gripped the sheet music I had spent six months preparing. Originally, I was supposed to play a song for him tonight on “The Siren’s Lament,” the legendary antique violin he had bought at an auction. But now. That $45 million masterpiece was resting quietly in Bianca Frost’s arms. Under the spotlight. Julian stood in his sharp black tuxedo. His features were cold and handsome, looking like a god. He was leaning down, gently adjusting the violin strings for Bianca. Standing together, they looked like the perfect couple. The guests below whispered among themselves. “I thought Mr. Vance was proposing to that orphan girlfriend of his, Valerie Sterling, tonight?” “What do you know? Miss Frost is Julian’s childhood sweetheart. She just got back from her studies in Vienna last month.” “Exactly. A penniless orphan doesn’t belong in a prestigious family like the Vances anyway.” “And ‘The Siren’s Lament’ is a masterpiece. Only a high-born lady like Bianca deserves it.” Every single word. Like a blunt, rusty knife. Slowly and cruelly carving into my heart. I took a deep breath. I forced down the bitterness in my throat. I turned around and walked silently into the dimly lit backstage. There were no spotlights here. No mocking glances. Only endless, suffocating coldness. I sat in front of the vanity mirror, looking at my pale reflection. Five years. I had been by Julian’s side for five long years. From when he had absolutely nothing, to his massive success today. I thought my warmth could finally melt this glacier of a man. But the moment Bianca returned. All my sacrifices became a pathetic joke. Outside the door, a light patter of footsteps approached. Accompanied by the sharp click of high heels. The dressing room door was pushed open.

Bianca walked in, wearing the red gown that was originally tailored for me. The diamonds on the skirt were still blindingly bright even in the dim light. She carried “The Siren’s Lament” in her hand. Like she was holding a cheap toy. She walked up to me. Looking down at me with pure disdain. “See this, Valerie?” “Julian’s heart has always belonged to me.” “So what if you stayed by his side for five years?” “All it takes is one look from me, and he willingly hands this violin over.” I raised my eyes. I looked at her calmly. There was no anger, no hysteria. “Since he gave it to you, keep it.” “It’s what he owes you, and it’s what I’m done paying him.” “From now on, Julian and I are completely even.” Bianca froze. She clearly didn’t expect me to be this calm. Her heavily made-up face instantly contorted with rage. “Even?” “What makes you think you’re worthy of talking about being ‘even’ with Julian?” “You were just a temporary plaything to cure his loneliness. A cheap substitute who could never be shown in public!” The more she spoke, the more agitated she became. She suddenly raised the violin high in the air. “Don’t you call yourself a prodigy violinist?” “Didn’t you want to use this violin to show off tonight?” “I will never let you have your way!” Before she finished her sentence. With all her might. She slammed the $45 million antique violin hard onto the solid marble floor.

“SMASH!” A sickening, heavy crash echoed through the empty dressing room. Wood splinters flew everywhere. The strings snapped with a sharp hiss. “The Siren’s Lament”—a masterpiece that had survived centuries of history and was treasured by legendary musicians. In an instant, it was shattered into pieces. Reduced to a pile of worthless scrap wood. I stood up abruptly. My pupils dilated. My heart felt like it was being squeezed to death by an invisible hand. That wasn’t just a violin. It was a treasure of the musical world. The soulmate I had dreamed of playing for countless days and nights. “Bianca, are you insane?!” I grit my teeth, my voice trembling violently. Looking at the mess on the floor. Bianca’s eyes suddenly turned red. Heavy tears rolled down her cheeks. She threw herself onto the floor. Covering her face, she began to wail hysterically. “Valerie, I know you hate me for taking this violin.” “But how could you smash it?!” “Julian spent a fortune at the auction for this!” “How could you be so cruel?!” I watched her pathetic acting with cold detachment. I felt utterly disgusted. Right then. The dressing room door was kicked open with a loud bang. Julian’s cousin, Tyler Vance, rushed in with several burly bodyguards. He immediately saw Bianca crying on the floor. And the shattered pieces of wood. Tyler’s face darkened instantly. He stormed over. Pointing a finger right at my face, he roared. “Valerie, are you out of your mind?!” “Julian was nice enough to let you work in his company, and you dare to bully Bianca?!” “You even smashed such an expensive violin!” “Can you even afford to pay for this, you worthless gold digger?!”

I looked at Tyler with cold eyes. This was the man who used to call me “sister-in-law” with a fake smile. Now, he was barking like a rabid dog. “She smashed it herself,” I said. My voice was flat. Without a single shred of emotion. “Cut the crap!” Tyler roared. “Bianca is too sweet to ever destroy something Julian gave her!” “You’re just consumed by jealousy! If you can’t have it, you destroy it!” Bianca sobbed right on cue. She leaned weakly against Tyler’s leg. “Tyler, don’t blame Valerie.” “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have accepted the violin.” “If I hadn’t taken it, Valerie wouldn’t have gotten angry, and the violin wouldn’t be broken.” Her manipulative words. Instantly set Tyler’s anger ablaze. “Bianca, you’re too kind. That’s why trash like her dares to step all over you!” Tyler turned back. His eyes gleamed with malice as he glared at me. “Valerie, get on your knees!” “Bow down and beg Bianca for forgiveness!” “And then, you will pay back every single cent this violin is worth!” I felt like I was hearing the most ridiculous joke in the world. I couldn’t help but chuckle coldly. “Make me kneel?” “Who do you think you are, Tyler?” “Even if Julian stood right here, he wouldn’t have the right to make me kneel!” “SLAP!” Before I could finish my sentence. A heavy slap landed brutally on my face. The sheer force of it. Knocked me straight to the ground. My ears rang violently. The taste of metallic blood filled my mouth. Holding my bruised cheek, I looked up. And saw Victoria Vance, Julian’s mother, walking in.

Victoria was wearing a dark red designer dress. A priceless emerald necklace hung around her neck. She looked down at me. Her eyes were filled with absolute disgust and contempt. “You ungrateful rat!” “You’re at death’s door and you still dare to talk back!” “Our family has supported you for five years, and this is how you repay us?” “Smashing my son’s violin and bullying Bianca!” “Today, I’ll teach you some manners since your dead parents clearly failed to do so!” Saying that, she raised her high-heeled foot. And kicked me squarely in the shoulder without hesitation. I groaned in pain. My body flew backward. My spine crashed heavily against the sharp corner of the vanity table. Agonizing pain shot through my entire body. “Victoria, please don’t get angry. It’s not worth ruining your health over her,” Bianca fake-whispered, stepping forward to support Victoria. But a smug, nasty smirk flashed across her face. “Bianca, sweetheart, you’re always so thoughtful.” Victoria patted Bianca’s hand. When she looked back at me, her eyes turned vicious again. “Tyler, pin her down!” “If she doesn’t get on her knees and beg Bianca for mercy today, she isn’t walking out of this room!” Hearing this. Tyler immediately signaled the bodyguards behind him. Two massive bodyguards rushed forward. They grabbed my shoulders from both sides, pinning me down. They dragged me brutally across the floor and forced me in front of Bianca. “Let go of me!” I struggled with everything I had. But against their sheer physical strength. I couldn’t break free. “Kneel!” Tyler stepped up behind me. And kicked me violently in the back of my knees.

“THUD.” I was forced onto the freezing marble floor. My knees crashed directly onto the shattered wooden shards of the violin. Sharp wooden splinters stabbed deep into my flesh. Blood instantly stained my white dress bright red. I clenched my teeth. I forced my spine straight. Refusing to bow my head. “Quite a stubborn one, aren’t you?” Tyler sneered. He reached out, grabbed my hair, and yanked it backward with brutal force. A tearing pain shot through my scalp. I was forced to look up, meeting Bianca’s malice-filled eyes. “Valerie, aren’t you supposed to be so proud?” “Didn’t you think you were so special just because you can play the violin?” Bianca walked up to me. She slowly squatted down. Lowering her voice so only the two of us could hear. “To be honest, yes, I smashed the violin.” “I just wanted you to know that as long as I want it, everything that belongs to Julian is mine.” “Including your dignity, and your pride.” “I can step on them and crush them into dust whenever I want!” She stood up, instantly switching back to her fragile, pitiful act. “Valerie, just apologize.” “If you apologize, I’ll pay for the violin for you.” “You’re just an orphan. How could you ever afford $45 million?” Victoria sneered. “Bianca, you’re just too soft-hearted.” “An ungrateful stray like her deserves to rot in prison!” “Tyler, since she refuses to bow.” “Give her a real lesson!” “Make sure she never forgets this!”

A cruel excitement flashed in Tyler’s eyes. He let go of my hair. His gaze fell directly on my right hand resting on the floor. That was a hand praised by countless music critics as “kissed by God.” Slender, pale, perfectly proportioned. A hand born solely for the violin. “Julian said your hands are the most important thing to you.” Tyler smiled wickedly. “Since you ruined Bianca’s violin.” “I guess you won’t be needing these hands anymore.” He raised his heavy leather shoe. Aimed right at my right hand. And stomped down with full force. “No!” My eyes widened in pure terror. Fear completely consumed me. I desperately tried to pull my hand back. But the two bodyguards pinned my arms down flat. I couldn’t move an inch. “CRACK!” The sickening sound of bones shattering. Echoed clearly in the dead silent dressing room.

“AHHHHHHH!!!” A piercing scream ripped from my throat. The pain of my fingers being crushed. Instantly shot through every nerve in my body. My mind went completely blank. My vision began to blur. Tyler kept twisting his boot on my hand. As if he were crushing a pathetic insect. “Does it hurt?” “Good!” “That’s what you get for crossing Bianca!” Blood. Bright, hot blood. Oozed from my crushed fingers. Dripping onto the cold marble floor. Like blooming red roses on snow. My body convulsed in agony. Cold sweat drenched my back. Even my breath tasted like thick, copper blood. My hand… The hand I valued more than my own life. Was completely ruined. “Stop… please… stop…” I gasped out, my voice trembling and weak. But nobody showed a shred of mercy. Victoria watched with cold indifference. As if she were watching a boring movie. Bianca stood behind Tyler. A savage, triumphant smile playing on her lips. “You brought this on yourself, Valerie.” “Aren’t you a genius?” “Let’s see you hold a cup after this, let alone a violin!”

Tyler finally lifted his boot. My right hand was a bloody, mangled mess. My finger bones were twisted at horrific angles. Swelling rapidly. I collapsed onto the floor like a ragdoll. Gasping heavily for air. Every single breath sent waves of unbearable agony through my body. Despair. Suffocating, absolute despair swallowed me whole. The dream I took pride in. The passion I lived for. At this very moment, was stomped into nothingness. “What is going on here?” Suddenly, a cold, deep male voice came from the doorway. It was Julian. He pushed the door open and walked in. Followed by several high-level executives from the company. When he saw the shattered violin and me lying in a pool of blood. He froze in his tracks. His pupils shrank. “Valerie…” He instinctively stepped toward me. But Bianca, like a frightened bird, threw herself into his arms. “Julian!” “You’re finally here!” “Valerie… she went crazy!” “She didn’t just smash the violin you gave me, she even tried to attack me!” “If Tyler and Victoria hadn’t arrived in time, I don’t know what she would have done to me…” She sobbed hysterically. Her body trembling in Julian’s embrace.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “441574”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My husband, Sean Sterling, pressed his face gently against Jessica Vance’s belly. She was wearing my maternity dress, sitting on the sofa I bought with my own money, living in the home that used to be mine. I floated right above the crystal chandelier, watching them, completely bored. Three years ago, I was pregnant with his child too. Seven months along. The baby had just started kicking me. But then, a thin steel wire was choked into my throat, and my baby bled out into nothingness before I even drew my last breath. It was Jessica—his current, precious wife—who did it. Sean had no idea. He thought I was just a cold-hearted Mafia princess who ran off with millions. He thought I betrayed his partner. He thought I was evil incarnate. I was kicked out of my own family for him. My brother Jayden went blind trying to save his life. But Sean never believed me. He only believed Jessica. So, after I died, my soul became trapped by his side. It had been three years. But today was a little different. In the police interrogation room, a cold case had just been cracked open. Someone pointed at Jessica’s name and called her the real traitor. When Sean heard this, he squeezed the glass in his hand so hard it shattered. Blood dripped from his palm, staining the interrogation table. I counted the drops. Seven drops. My baby was exactly seven months old when he died. I wondered if it was just a coincidence, or if God had finally remembered me.

“A woman like Vivian Hall has blood all over her hands. You think she’s worth framing Jessica for?” Sean’s voice was ice-cold. He pulled out a handkerchief and calmly wiped the glass shards from his bleeding knuckles. Ghost, chained to the interrogation chair, burst into a hysterical laugh. His handcuffs rattled loudly against the metal table. “You really think that little Mafia princess ran away with your money, Detective?” Ghost spat out a mouthful of bloody phlegm. “Your lovely wife paid me two million dollars to drag Vivian to Warehouse 3. When I choked the life out of her with a wire, she was still carrying your kid in her belly!” Sean didn’t stop wiping his hands. He didn’t even blink. A mocking sneer played on his lips. “Vivian Hall? She’s a mob boss’s daughter. Criminality is in her blood.” “Three years ago, she stole thirty million, betrayed my partner Marcus, and fled. That’s exactly who she is.” “If you’re going to make up a story, at least make it believable.” “Meanwhile, Jessica is an honors graduate from the Police Academy. Clean record, bright future.” “One belongs in the gutter; the other lives in the light.” “You think the wild rants of a junkie like you can twist the truth? You think you can drag a cop’s wife into the mud?” He tossed the blood-stained handkerchief onto the table. “Keep interrogating him. Don’t stop until he tells the actual truth.” Sean pushed open the heavy iron door and walked out. I floated in the air right above the hallway, following him. He walked into the restroom, turned on the faucet, and washed his hands over and over again. The mirror reflected his sharp, handsome face. He looked completely unbothered. He said Jessica lived in the light and I belonged in the gutter. But he was once the man who held my hands and told me he loved my rebellious soul. He had said he would gladly step into the gutter just to be with me. When Marcus’s undercover identity was exposed, he was brutally murdered on the street. Sean held his cold body and sat in a pool of blood for an entire night. That was when Jessica appeared. Crying, she handed him a few blurry photos and heavily edited audio recordings. Every single piece of “evidence” pointed to me. Faced with his brother’s blood, Sean’s love for me shattered instantly. After that, his eyes held nothing but hatred for me. He didn’t arrest me, nor did he ask for a divorce. Instead, he systematically destroyed my life to prove his loyalty to the badge. He took down my father’s business piece by piece, tearing our family empire apart. My younger brother, Jayden, was blinded by rivals while trying to protect Sean. Yet, Sean dismissed Jayden’s sacrifice as a cheap, manipulative trick to win his sympathy. Later, Jayden was cornered by enemies again, hovering between life and death. I ran to the precinct to beg Sean. I knelt in the pouring rain for an entire night. When dawn broke, he finally walked out. He held a black umbrella, shielding Jessica from the storm. The rain beat down mercilessly on my face. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a disgust I had never seen before. “Vivian, this is what your family owes Marcus.” That was the last time I ever saw him alive. A few days later, I was dragged to Warehouse 3. Sean had walked into the breakroom now. Jessica was sitting on the bench, holding a warm cup of milk. Seeing him enter, she stood up immediately. “Sean, what happened to your hand?” She took his hand, her eyes turning red with worry. Sean held her hand back and gently guided her back to the seat. “It’s nothing. Just dropped a glass.” “Did Ghost confess?” Jessica asked tentatively. Sean let out a cold laugh. “He’s just a junkie trying to get a plea deal. He’s pointing fingers at everyone.” He reached out and gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “He actually claimed you hired him to kill Vivian.” Jessica’s body froze for a fraction of a second. But very quickly, tears began to stream down her face. “Sean… how could I ever do something like that? I know Vivian hurt Marcus, but I always thought she was just confused.” “When she took the money and left the country back then, I was honestly happy for her. I thought she was finally getting a fresh start.” Sean’s eyes darkened. “Don’t even say her name. It dirties your mouth.” He pulled Jessica into his arms, gently stroking her back. I hovered right above the vent, watching Sean protect Jessica’s stomach so carefully. I reached down and touched my own empty belly. Before that cold wire tightened around my neck, there was a tearing pain in my lower body. A tiny heartbeat, which had started before mine, disappeared from this world first. Ghost’s mocking laughter echoed in my memory. He had told me Sean thought my baby was dirty. I looked at Sean’s hand as he wiped away Jessica’s tears. I remembered a rainy night in Brooklyn years ago when I was cornered in an alley by a rival gang. It was this very hand—warm and firm—that pulled me into a dark alleyway behind some trash cans. He had shielded me with his body, his grip so tight it almost crushed my wrist. Mixed with the smell of blood and rain, he had whispered, “Don’t fear.” That hand used to be my only sanctuary in a dark world. Now, it was gently comforting my killer. I reached up and touched the invisible scar on my neck.

During the precinct briefing, the lead investigator from the federal task force slammed a stack of files onto the table. “Detective Sterling, the suspect, Ghost, keeps insisting that Jessica Vance hired him for the hit.” “According to protocol, Jessica must be placed under internal investigation.” Sean leaned back in his chair, spinning a pen in his hand. He didn’t even look at the files. “Agent Miller, I know the protocols.” “But if we start investigating a detective’s family just because some street thug opened his mouth, how are my guys supposed to do their jobs?” He stopped the pen with his fingertip. “I closed Vivian Hall’s missing person case three years ago myself.” “The travel records are crystal clear. She took thirty million dollars from the mob and took a boat to the Caribbean.” “Ghost claims she was killed in Warehouse 3. Where is the body?” Sean stood up, leaning his hands on the table, staring down the federal agent. “No body, no financial paper trail, just the word of a junkie.” “Agent Miller, if you want to investigate my wife, bring me real evidence.” I floated near the whiteboard, watching Sean defend my killer. I smiled silently. He would never know that his “innocent” wife was actually the daughter of the head of the Vance Syndicate—the city’s most ruthless crime family. She was the deepest mole ever planted in the NYPD. She had framed my father’s family—who never touched drugs or took innocent lives—for all the bloody crimes committed by the Vances. And that “travel record” Sean was so sure of? It was nothing but a cruel bargain Jessica forced upon me. The night Jayden was stabbed while shielding Sean, he was left clinging to life. But Sean had used his police connections to block every medical channel that could have saved my brother. Desperate, I knelt before Jessica. In the sterile white hallway of the hospital, she stood in her crisp uniform and tossed a plane ticket and a written confession at my feet. Her voice was as sweet as honey. “Sign it.” “Admit that you betrayed Marcus, and I’ll get the best surgeon in New York to save your brother.” I signed it. But the surgeon never came. Instead, someone unplugged Jayden’s ventilator. Though Jayden survived, the lack of oxygen caused permanent brain damage. He lost his sight completely, cast into eternal darkness. Jessica had stepped on my face with her polished boots, crushing my dignity into the cold tiles. She had leaned down and whispered in my ear: “Vivian, I forgot to tell you. Sean hates betrayal more than anything.” “Do you think he’ll believe a confession signed in your own hand, or will he believe me?” Back in his office, Sean locked the door. He loosened his tie and pulled open his bottom drawer. He took out the file at the very bottom—my missing person case from three years ago. He stared at my photo, his thumb unconsciously brushing against the corner of the paper. After a long time, he closed the file, his expression unreadable. He pressed his hand flat against the folder, his knuckles turning white as if trying to erase my name from the earth. But after a long struggle, all that came out of his tight jaw was a raspy whisper. “Vivian… you better stay gone.” I floated down in front of him, looking at the hatred and conflict in his eyes. “Because if you come back, I’ll put you behind bars myself… or will I go crazy for you all over again?” A wave of deep sadness washed over me. He didn’t know that I could never come back. I was already dead. The desk phone rang. He took a deep breath, and his voice instantly softened. “Hey, babe. Is the baby kicking again?” On the other end, Jessica’s voice sounded perfectly vulnerable. “Sean, I was cleaning out the storage unit and found an old gray sweater Vivian left behind.” “It makes me feel really uneasy. Can I just pack it away in a box?” Sean’s eyes went cold. “Her trash should have been thrown out long ago. Don’t touch it. I’ll come home and handle it.” He hung up, grabbed his keys, and rushed out. I followed him back to the apartment. Sean strode into the storage room and snatched the gray sweater out of Jessica’s hands. I had knitted that sweater for him, stitch by stitch, by his hospital bed when he was shot during an undercover operation. He held the sweater, his fingers lingering on the uneven stitching near the chest. Then, he threw it into the hallway trash can. The edge of the trash can caught a loose thread, pulling the fabric apart to reveal a faded paper amulet sewn inside. I had waited in line at a cathedral all night just to get that blessing for him. He had laughed at me back then, saying cops didn’t believe in superstitions. But then he had pulled me close and asked me to sew it into his favorite sweater so he wouldn’t lose it. He said he was afraid of losing his luck.

On the weekend, Sean took Jessica for her prenatal checkup. Driving past a local bakery, Jessica said she wanted a cheese bagel from the street vendor outside. Sean parked the car and went down to buy it himself. The bagel vendor was a limping old man who had once been helped by my father. As he packed the bagels, he looked up at Sean. “Detective Sterling, I haven’t seen you with Vivian in a long time.” Old Ben sighed. “She used to come here to learn how to bake these just for you. Her hands got blistered from the steam, but she kept going even while crying from the pain.” “That sweet girl loved you so much. Are you guys doing okay?” Sean’s hand froze mid-air as he reached for his wallet. His face darkened. “Ben, she’s gone. That’s in the past.” He slammed the cash on the counter, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t mention her to me again.” He grabbed the box and walked away without looking back. I sat on the roof of the car, watching the old man’s confused face. I looked down at my own ghostly right hand. There was indeed a deep scar from a burn on the back of it. Sean got back in the car and handed the bagels to Jessica. She took a bite and frowned. “Sean, this is so tough and dry.” Sean immediately took a napkin and wiped her mouth. “Spit it out if it’s bad. I’ll take you to the Rosewood for high tea.” He took the box of bagels and tossed them out of the window. Right then, his phone rang. It was the lead detective from the homicide squad. “Sean, we have a situation.” The voice on the line was frantic. “The harbor police were dredging the bay near Warehouse 3. They pulled up a metal drum sealed with concrete.” “There’s… there’s a skeleton inside.” Sean gripped the steering wheel, his voice flat. “It’s just a mob dumping. Let forensics handle it.” The detective paused. “Sean, the preliminary report says the victim is female. Her neck bones were crushed by a thin wire.” “It matches Ghost’s confession… perfectly.” The car fell into a suffocating silence. Jessica clenched her fists, her hand slowly covering Sean’s knuckles. “Sean, what’s wrong? I heard something about a warehouse on the phone?” Her voice trembled slightly. “Is it about Ghost? He’s just lying to cause trouble, right? He isn’t making things hard for you, is he?” Sean turned his head, his gaze landing heavily on her face. The fleeting suspicion in his eyes made Jessica’s heart skip a beat. But he quickly looked away and squeezed her hand. “It’s nothing. Just a minor case. It’s already handled.” He started the engine and drove toward the Rosewood Hotel. “Nothing is more important than you and the baby.” I sat in the back seat, watching his tight jaw and the darkness behind his eyes. He said it wasn’t important, but his foot pressed harder and harder on the gas pedal.

The recovery site was sealed off with yellow police tape. In the end, Sean still came. He had left Jessica at the hotel, making an excuse about urgent paperwork at the precinct. He stood outside the yellow tape, lighting a cigarette, watching the officers use a circular saw to cut open the metal drum. Dr. Evans, the medical examiner, walked over and took off his gloves. His face was pale. “Sean, we have the preliminary findings.” “Female, late twenties.” “Cause of death was ligature strangulation with a thin wire, causing cervical fracture and asphyxiation.” Sean flicked the ashes off his cigarette, his tone still seemingly detached. “A body dumped in the bay? Just check the recent gang wars.” He turned to leave. “Sean, there are some unique skeletal features,” Dr. Evans called out. “She had three broken ribs and a old penetrating wound on her right wrist that damaged the nerve.” The cigarette slipped from Sean’s fingers. It fell onto his hand, burning his skin, but he didn’t even flinch. A wrist wound. Three years ago, during an internal mob dispute, someone had lunged at him with a knife. I had blocked the blade with my bare right hand. Sean slowly turned around, his eyes blown wide, though his voice remained defensive. “A lot of women have injured wrists. That doesn’t prove anything.” Dr. Evans sighed and pulled two evidence bags from his kit. He handed the smaller one to Sean first. “We found this on her right ring finger.” Sean’s gaze drifted down. Inside the plastic bag was a tarnished, blackened silver ring. On the inside of the band, the name “Sean” was crudely engraved—something he had carved himself while drunk years ago. Sean stared at the ring, his breath catching in his throat. He reached out to take it, but his fingers shook so violently he couldn’t grasp it. Seeing his pale face, Dr. Evans pushed the second bag into his trembling hands. “Also, we found this in her pelvic cavity.” Inside the bag was a cluster of tiny, fragile bones. “Based on the bone development, it was a fetus. About seven months old.” Seven months. I remembered the seven drops of blood that had dripped from his hand when he broke the glass. “This is impossible…” Sean’s voice was barely a whisper. “Vivian was greedy… she ran… how could she…” He suddenly looked up at Dr. Evans, his eyes bloodshot. “This must be a setup by Ghost! He found a matching body!” “Run a DNA test! Right now! Use her family’s DNA from the database!” He screamed, turned, and stumbled over a rock. He scrambled up and fled like a terrified animal.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “441575”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

After giving blood to Mason’s adoptive sister for the three-hundredth time, they still didn’t let me go. That day, they dragged me to the hound yard. Opposite me was the giant black mastiff I feared the most. “If you survive this, we’ll let you reunite with your parents.” The next second, the dog, hyped up on some drug, lunged at me. With nowhere to hide, I could only let the beast tear into my flesh. Just as I was about to lose consciousness, Mason showed up. He ordered his men to beat the dog back, looking down at me with pure disgust. “Have you learned your lesson yet? Apologize to Windsor, and I promise we’ll get married right away.” In his arms, Windsor’s eyes filled with tears at his words. “Angel, I don’t blame you.” I stayed completely silent. My silence pushed Mason over the edge. “If it weren’t for you, Windsor wouldn’t have been assaulted by those thugs! She wouldn’t have ended up infertile, and she wouldn’t need constant blood transfusions!” “And now, you won’t even give her a simple apology?” “I guess you really don’t want your parents to live much longer, do you?” If this were in the past, I would have dropped to my knees and begged him. But now, there was no need. Because an hour ago, my parents had already died.

“Look at her, acting all tough. Mason, looks like your scare tactics aren’t working anymore. Angel doesn’t even care.” The mocking laughter from Mason’s friends made him frown. “Angel, did you lose your tongue?” Everyone could feel his growing anger. To suck up to him, one of his friends threw a glass bottle straight at me. The heavy glass shattered against my forehead. Instantly, I smelled the copper tang of my own blood. In the next second, Mason jumped down into the yard, suddenly looking panicked. “What happened?” Meeting his worried eyes, I felt a brief moment of daze. Did he actually care about me? But then, a cold sneer appeared on Mason’s face. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m only worried you’ll bleed out. If you die, who’s going to give Windsor her transfusion today?” So that was it. I was just being pathetic again. Ever since Windsor’s assault three years ago, I had been labeled the villain. Everyone said, “It was Angel. She thought Mason was sleeping with Windsor, so she hired those men to ruin her.” Mason didn’t even ask. He just believed it. Since then, they had subjected me to endless torture. Whenever Windsor needed blood, I had to drain myself. If I hesitated even a little, they would target my parents. My parents’ health was already failing. After years of Mason’s harassment, they were at their breaking point. Before they dragged me here today, the hospital had called me. “Miss Angel, you should start preparing for your parents’ funerals.” That phone call felt like a lightning strike. All my years of silent suffering felt entirely pointless. And an hour ago, Mason’s men brought my parents to the hound yard. They said they wanted my parents to watch me fight the black mastiff. In that moment, I had begged them. “Please, no. My parents are too old. Their hearts can’t take this. Please, don’t do this.” When I knelt and begged, I saw a flash of panic in Mason’s eyes. But it didn’t stop them. My parents were still forced to watch. When they saw me being pushed toward the raging dog, they smiled at me. Their smiles were so pale, so final. It was their last goodbye to me. The next second, they took their own lives right in front of me.

“Angel, can’t you just behave for once? Think about your parents…” Mason’s voice pulled me back to reality. I stared at him, my voice completely flat and hollow. “There’s no need, Mason. If you want me dead so badly, I’ll just die.” I turned and walked straight toward the black dog. Everyone in the yard gasped in shock. But I didn’t die. Mason grabbed my arm and yanked me back. “You’d go this far just to avoid saving Windsor? You think this threat works on me?” “Let me tell you, if you dare to die, I’ll make sure your parents die first!” Faced with his threat, I said softly, “My parents are already dead.” “Angel, how can you be so evil? Just to get out of giving me blood, you’re actually cursing your own parents?” Windsor looked at me with a heartbroken expression. Her words instantly turned Mason’s brief panic into absolute rage. “Angel, I really underestimated how vile you are.” “Fine. You want to see your parents die? I’ll make it happen.” Mason gritted his teeth and dialed his assistant’s number on speakerphone. “Cut off all medical treatments for Angel’s parents right now. Inform the hospital that no one is allowed to sell them VIP life-support medication.” On the other end of the line, the assistant hesitated. “But, Mr. Bryant, about that…” “What? Did Angel buy you off too?” Mason snapped, cutting him off. I knew why the assistant was hesitating. He wanted to tell Mason that my parents were already dead. But with Mason’s paranoid temper, the assistant didn’t dare to say another word. So, after Mason hung up, the assistant immediately sent me a message on Snapchat. [Miss Angel, does Mr. Bryant really not know that your parents passed away?] How hilarious. He was Mason’s top assistant, yet he was asking me—the family’s “human blood bag”—for details. If I actually mattered to Mason, would I have been tortured like this? Hanging up the phone, Mason smirked at me. “Still want to play tough?” “Mason, let’s get a divorce.” “Angel, you’re getting bold. Now you’re trying to threaten me with divorce?” “You think a divorce absolves you of your sins?” “I’m telling you, you owe Windsor. You can’t pay that debt back even if you spend the rest of your life trying.” Mason grabbed my collar tightly, his eyes looking like he wanted to tear me apart. But I only repeated quietly, “I told you, it wasn’t me.” I had said those words a thousand times over the years. From screaming it hysterically in the beginning, to now speaking it with absolute indifference. “Angel, if it wasn’t you, are you saying I staged my own assault?” Windsor stood there, looking as fragile as a leaf in the wind. Her single sentence fueled Mason’s hatred for me even more. Even though Windsor didn’t actually need a transfusion today, Mason still ordered his men to drain 800cc of my blood. Already physically exhausted, my vision went dark, and I collapsed. Before I blacked out, I was still pleading with him. “Help… my parents…” I wanted to tell him that my parents’ bodies were still lying outside the hound yard. I didn’t want them to be left out there like trash. But Mason thought I was begging him to resume their medical care. He just sneered. “When you sincerely apologize to Windsor, that’s when I’ll let your parents back into the hospital.”

When I opened my eyes, I was back at the Bryant mansion. A maid saw me waking up and spared me a cold glance. “You’re awake?” I shook my pounding head and struggled out of bed. I had to go back to the hound yard to find my parents. But the maid blocked my way. “Mr. Bryant said we’re celebrating Windsor’s big win at the National Design Awards tonight. You are to prepare the dinner.” “I have to go.” I tried to push past her, but she grabbed my arm tightly. “Can you stop making trouble for everyone?” “If you run off, Mr. Bryant will skin me alive!” Looking at the maid’s frustrated and resentful face, I lost my voice. She wasn’t lying. Once, when I refused to give blood to Windsor, everyone in the mansion’s staff got punished because of me. Even though they treated me poorly, I didn’t want to drag innocent people down anymore. So, I forced myself to stay calm. “I’ll talk to Mason myself.” With that, I walked downstairs. As soon as I reached the living room, I saw Mason’s sister, Natasha. She was presenting a gift to Windsor. “Windsor, I still think you’re the perfect match for Mason. Once you marry him, we’ll finally be a real family.” “Oh, don’t say that, Natasha. If Angel hears you, she’ll think I’m trying to steal her husband!” “Her? She’s not even worthy of wiping Mason’s shoes.” Natasha rolled her eyes dramatically. Then, she spotted me. Her sneer grew wider. “Oh, look who’s still breathing. Fainting after just 800cc? How pathetic.” “Why didn’t you just play dead? Maybe Mason would have felt a tiny bit of pity for you.” I ignored Natasha and looked around, but Mason wasn’t there. “Are you looking for Mason?” Windsor asked gently. When I didn’t deny it, she continued: “He went out to pick up a special gift for me. If you need something, you can tell me. I’ll pass it along.” Since Mason wasn’t here, nobody could stop me from leaving. I turned to walk out of the villa. But Natasha wasn’t done with me. She followed me out to the driveway. “Angel, if I were you, I would have signed the divorce papers ages ago. Isn’t it exhausting clinging to a man who hates you?” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but laugh. Since the day Mason forced me to become Windsor’s blood donor, I had brought up divorce countless times. But every single time, Mason would explode in rage, shouting, “In your dreams!” At first, I foolishly thought he couldn’t let me go because he still loved me. Later, I realized he just didn’t want to lose his leverage over me. “What are you laughing at?” Natasha snapped. “If you’re so eager, go convince Mason to sign the papers. Otherwise, stay out of my way.” I gave Natasha a freezing glare and walked away. Before, I tolerated their abuse because of my parents. But now, I had nothing left to lose. As I walked down the street, I could still hear Natasha screaming curses behind me. “Fine! Go ahead and act tough! Let’s see if you come crawling back to beg the Bryant family when your parents are dying!” I took one last look at the Bryant estate and whispered, “Never again.” I rushed back to the hound yard. But no matter where I searched, my parents’ bodies were gone. I found the manager of the yard. The moment I mentioned the bodies, his face went completely pale. “Don’t talk nonsense! We don’t have any dead bodies here!” They blocked me from searching further. Left with no choice, I called the police. Once the flashing police lights arrived, the owner of the yard finally panicked and let us view the security footage. When I saw my parents’ bodies being thrown into the industrial meat grinder used for dog food, my entire world shattered. “Why?! Why would you do that to them?!” I screamed, completely losing my mind. With the police standing right there, the owner was terrified. He dragged the employee in charge of the grinder over to face us. The young kid had never seen police officers before. He was so scared he was shaking.

“I… a woman gave me a stack of cash! She told me to get rid of those two heavy bags!” “I didn’t know! I swear to God, I didn’t know there were people inside!” The boy was crying so hard he practically wet his pants. With trembling hands, I pulled out a photo of Windsor from my phone. “Was it her?” “Yes! Yes, that’s her!” “I want to file charges!” I sobbed, barely able to breathe. “They killed my parents, and they destroyed their remains!” This was a heinous criminal offense. The police immediately took action. They took the boy to the station for questioning, while I led a group of officers back to Mason’s villa. When we arrived, Mason was holding a beautiful velvet box. He was carefully lifting a stunning necklace out of the box and fastening it around Windsor’s neck. The moment I saw that necklace, I lost all control. I lunged onto the stage like a madwoman. “Give that back to me!” My parents weren’t wealthy, but my mother’s best friend was Blair, the world-renowned fashion designer. This necklace was a one-of-a-kind piece Blair had custom-made and gifted to my mother. It symbolized peace and protection. Before my mother passed, when she knew she couldn’t protect me anymore, she gave it to me. She said, “I hope you have a peaceful life, my sweet girl.” No one else knew its value, but Mason knew exactly how much it meant to me. My wild appearance startled Mason. But before he could say anything, Windsor shrieked and collapsed to the floor. “Oh, Angel… why do you hate seeing me happy so much?” Seeing Windsor crying on the floor, Mason’s protective instincts kicked in. He grabbed my throat and slammed me down. “Angel, do you want to die?” Then, he threw me ruthlessly down the stairs of the stage. The police officers quickly ran over to help me up. “Are you okay, ma’am?” They glared at Mason with deep disapproval. Windsor pointed at the officers, acting shocked and disappointed. “Angel, what is this?” “Just to ruin my celebration dinner, you actually hired actors to pretend to be cops?” Windsor’s words made Mason finally notice the uniforms. Even though the officers immediately showed their badges, Mason chose to believe Windsor without hesitation. “Angel, you’ve gone too far this time.” Mason gave me a disgust-filled look before turning to the officers. “How much did she pay you to pull this sick stunt? Do you know that impersonating police officers is a federal crime?” Mason turned to his assistant. “Call the actual police.” The assistant pulled out his phone to make the call. Seeing how absurd this was getting, the lead officer spoke up in a booming voice, “We *are* the actual police.” Then, under Mason’s stunned gaze, the officer looked directly at Windsor. “Are you Windsor Bryant?” “I… Yes. What do you want?” “You are under arrest for the illegal disposal of human remains. Please come with us to the precinct.” “What?!” Mason gasped. It was the first time I had ever seen such a look of pure shock and confusion on his face. Windsor began shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. “No, that’s not true! I didn’t do anything!” “Mason, it’s Angel! She’s framing me! She set this up!” “Angel…” “Mason,” I interrupted, my voice dead and cold. “My parents died because of you. Wasn’t that enough?” “Did you have to order her to feed them to the dogs too?” “What did you say?” Mason stumbled back, nearly losing his footing. His assistant had to catch him. Mason turned his head slowly to his assistant, his voice trembling. “What did she just say?” The assistant swallowed hard. “Sir… Her parents are dead.” The room went dead silent. Mason’s face drained of all color. He began to mumble incoherently. “That’s impossible… how? I only cut off their VIP treatment…” “It’s only been a few hours. How could they be dead?” “Angel, are you still trying to play mind games with me?” Windsor shrieked, panic taking over. “You say your parents are dead, and you have these fake cops accuse me of destroying their bodies? Where is your proof?!” I didn’t bother answering her. The police officer simply pulled out an arrest warrant and a tablet showing the evidence. “Miss Windsor, we wouldn’t be here executing an arrest warrant if we didn’t have solid proof.” Hearing the officer’s firm words, Mason turned to Windsor, his eyes filled with disbelief. “Is this true, Windsor?” “No! No, Mason, you have to believe me!” Windsor sobbed hysterically. Then, as if a lightbulb went off, she pointed at me. “I know…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “441576”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

That night at the gala, just as I raised the abortion pills to my lips, a baby’s cry rang out in my head. “Mom! Don’t swallow! If you get rid of me now, Julian will never have kids! He has severe fertility issues!” My hand froze instantly. His first love had just returned to the country. Julian was helping Chloe to her seat. He looked up at me, his eyes cold and warning, telling me not to cause a scene. Over the past three years, I had learned to read that look perfectly. Every time he looked at me like that, I was supposed to obediently step back and hold back my tears. But this time, right in front of everyone, I slipped the two pills back into my clutch. I looked at Chloe, a faint smile on my lips. “Since you’re back, I’m done serving him.” “I’m leaving. Bye.” The whole room was stunned as I stood up and left. Julian ordered me to stop. I didn’t look back. Since God had let me hear my baby’s voice, I wasn’t going to give this game up to the Pierce family. I would make everyone who wanted to see me as a joke regret this for the rest of their lives.

Vivian’s POV On the night of the Pierce Family Charity Gala, I sat in my seat, clutching two abortion pills tightly in my hand. In the center of the ballroom, Julian was shielding Chloe from a glass of wine, drinking it for her. The chandelier light fell on his broad shoulders, and also on the tear-stained corners of Chloe’s eyes. The guests cheered, whispering about how their childhood romance was meant to be, after all. Someone glanced at me maliciously and raised their voice. “Then what about Miss Vance? She can’t keep occupying the position of Mrs. Pierce forever, right?” I looked down at the warm water in my glass, about to put the pills in my mouth. Suddenly, a childish, sharp wail echoed in my belly. “Mom! Don’t swallow! If you get rid of me now, that scumbag Julian will be childless for the rest of his life!” My hand froze. The voice was still screaming in my belly. “He has low sperm motility. The baby in your belly is his only chance of having a child in this lifetime. He is playing the hero for his first love now, but in the future, even if he kneels at your door begging for a glance, he won’t even get a number.” My pupils dilated in shock. My nails dug deep into my palm. Julian helped Chloe back to the VIP table and looked up at me. His gaze was extremely cold, carrying his usual warning, as if reminding me not to make a scene. For the past three years, I was a master at reading this look. I had always thought I was just a placeholder. When Chloe left the country, I came; now that Chloe was back, I had to leave. Tonight, I wanted to end it cleanly. Abort the baby, cut ties, and leave myself a shred of dignity. But the little thing in my belly refused. “Mom! Don’t look at his handsome face, he’s just a blind fool! As long as you keep this pregnancy, the entire Pierce family will have to revolve around you in the future! In my past life, you aborted me, and in the end, they drove you crazy and you died in a mental asylum!” My heart hammered violently. Past life memories? If what this child said was true… Chloe walked over with a glass of juice, pretending to smooth things over. “Vivian, everyone was just joking tonight. Don’t take it to heart. Julian is just taking care of me. We grew up together, he’s used to it.” Someone immediately chimed in nearby. “Chloe is so generous. Anyone else would have kicked the uninvited guest out long ago.” Everyone was waiting to see me swallow my pride. But I raised my head, and in front of everyone, I put the two abortion pills back into my purse. I looked at Chloe, my lips curving into a cold, sharp smile. “Miss Sterling is right. Being ‘used to’ something is indeed a habit that needs to be broken.” The smile on Chloe’s face froze instantly. Julian frowned, his voice displeased. “Vivian.” “I’m going to get some fresh air.” I stood up, not even granting him a glance. “You guys enjoy your habits.” The moment I walked out of the ballroom, the voice in my belly let out a long sigh of relief, then said urgently: “Mom, beautifully done! But whatever you do, don’t go back to the villa, and don’t tell Julian I exist! Chloe, that venomous snake, has her eyes on you. You have to stay alive so I can live!” I looked back at the half-closed heavy doors of the ballroom. Inside, glasses were still clinking, celebrating Julian’s reunion with his first love. I touched my flat belly, my eyes becoming more determined than ever. “Okay,” I said softly in my heart. “I’ll take you away. I’ll save you once, and you have to help me fight for my life.” “I will!” The little voice was full of energy. “Mom, let’s survive first, and then make them regret everything!” I did not go back to Julian’s villa.

Vivian’s POV I stopped my car at a street corner. Pretending to go into a pharmacy for stomach medicine, I slipped right out through the back door. I pulled out my phone’s SIM card, threw it into the storm drain without hesitation, and turned around to buy a cheap, prepaid burner phone with cash. My counter-surveillance moves were seamless. The little guy in my belly was stunned. “Mom… you’re so good at this… Next, go south, go find Mary!” Deep in the lower east side, the alteration shop was tucked away in a narrow alley. The owner, Mary, was someone my grandmother had once helped. After hearing my story, she didn’t say a word and hid me in the secret attic on the third floor. Just as I sat down, loud, urgent banging came from downstairs. “Is Miss Vance inside? Mr. Pierce is looking for her.” The man’s voice outside was polite, but it carried a suffocating pressure. My whole body tensed up. Just as I was about to jump out of the back window, the voice in my belly suddenly screamed: “Don’t move! That’s not Julian’s man, that’s Sienna’s! She saw you holding the pill box tonight. She suspects you’re pregnant and wants to drag you for a blood test to kill me directly!” A cold sweat broke out across my back. Sienna Sterling, Chloe’s half-sister. The older sister played the sweet, innocent first love, while the younger sister did all the dirty work in the shadows. They had long seen me as a thorn in their side. Even if it was just a suspicion, they wanted to wipe me out. “There’s no Miss Vance here! I only do clothing alterations!” Mary argued loudly downstairs. The man outside sneered. “Mrs. Higgins, this is Sterling family business. You’d better know what’s good for you.” I stood in the dark stairwell, my eyes icy. I didn’t hesitate anymore. I grabbed a ring of keys left by my grandmother, crossed from the third-floor window sill to the neighbor’s balcony, and slipped into an empty building. Half an hour later, I changed into an oversized, worn-out black puffer jacket, put on a face mask and a beanie, and blended completely into the bustling crowd of the local fish market like a drop of water. The quiet, pretty, submissive Vivian died tonight. Mary sent me an encrypted text on Snapchat: They left. They said not to dream of running. I sneered. Dreaming? Let’s see whose dream shatters first. The rain poured down. I took shelter in an abandoned workshop in north Brooklyn. The place was drafty, but hidden enough. I spread out the old ledger my grandmother had left on the wooden table, turned to the last page, and found a yellowed business card: Dr. Evelyn Carter. Before my grandmother passed away, she told me that if I was ever pushed into a corner, I should find this gynecologist. “Mom, call her quickly! In my past life, you went too late, and those two evil Sterling sisters dragged you onto the operating table!” The voice in my belly carried deep fear. I didn’t panic. First, I wrote down my current situation, the people I had contacted, and the possible risks of exposure on a blank piece of paper. I could no longer rely on Julian to solve things like I did in the past three years. From now on, I was the only protector for myself and my child. At 3:00 AM, I used my new burner phone to call Dr. Evelyn Carter.

Julian’s POV By the time I found the alteration shop on the lower east side, it was already noon the next day. I was still wearing yesterday’s suit, my eyes bloodshot, radiating a dark, uncontrollable anger. “Has Vivian been here?” I glared at the woman behind the counter. The woman didn’t even look up. “Mr. Pierce, didn’t anyone teach you to say hello before barging into a shop?” My assistant behind me took a step forward, trying to intimidate her. The woman pointed directly at the security camera above her head. “Touch me and see what happens! Let the whole city see how the Pierce family bullies ordinary people!” I raised my hand to stop my assistant, forcing down my rage. “She was emotional last night. I just want to take her home.” “Why was she emotional? Don’t you have any idea?” Mary sneered. “You seemed to enjoy having girls on both arms last night, and now you’re here playing the devoted partner?” Her words felt like a hard slap across my face. I knew what she meant. At the gala last night, Chloe had leaned in and grabbed my arm, and I hadn’t pushed her away immediately. In Vivian’s eyes, that was probably a silent confirmation, a betrayal. Proof that I had chosen Chloe over her. I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles turned white. It wasn’t because Mary was wrong, but because she was entirely right. The moment I failed to push Chloe away was the moment everything started to crumble. When Vivian left last night, I even thought she was being “mature.” But when I returned to the empty villa and found she had taken all her IDs, leaving behind every piece of jewelry I had ever bought her, a terrifying panic gripped my chest. Just then, Chloe called. “Julian, did you find Vivian? Sienna said she looked pale last night, she’s really worried about her…” “Sienna is worried about Vivian?” My voice turned freezing cold, cutting her off. “Chloe, keep your sister in check. If anything happens to Vivian, I will hold the Sterling family personally responsible.” I hung up, and my assistant handed me a blurry surveillance screenshot. In the picture, she was wearing a worn-out puffer jacket, walking into a crowded market with her head down. I stared at the photo, my heart squeezing painfully. She wasn’t throwing a tantrum. She was hiding from me. She was running as if escaping a mortal danger, using every trick she had to get away from me! Vivian’s POV Inside Dr. Evelyn Carter’s private clinic. “It’s early, but the baby is stable. Right now, you need nutrition and rest.” Dr. Carter pushed the ultrasound image toward me. I touched my flat stomach and asked in a low voice, “What if someone wants to steal the baby, or kill it?” Dr. Carter looked at me deeply, her voice sharp. “Then remember this: you are an independent mother, not someone’s breeding tool. If you want to protect him, you must first arm yourself to the teeth!” Those words ignited a fierce fire in my chest. At dusk, I was having toasts at a small bakery near the clinic. I had only taken two bites when Sienna Sterling, flanked by two bodyguards, arrogantly pulled back a chair and sat opposite me. “You really know how to hide, Vivian, coming to a trashy place like this.” Sienna’s venomous eyes swept over my stomach. “My sister is kind-hearted, but I’m not. If you’re carrying some bastard you shouldn’t be, you’d better get rid of it now. Otherwise, I’ll make your life a living hell.” The little guy in my belly shook with anger. “Mom! That’s exactly how she smiled when she drove you crazy in my past life! Tear her apart!” I raised my eyes. “Does your sister know you’re doing her dirty work?” Sienna’s expression changed slightly, but she quickly laughed it off. “Don’t try to drive a wedge between us. My sister is soft-hearted, but I’m not. Vivian, you’ve been with Julian for three years, you must have gotten a lot of money, right? Learn to be content.” “What I got was given by Julian, not the Sterling family.” I pushed the hot bowl of soup away. “If you want me to be content, keep your hands out of my bowl first.” Sienna didn’t expect me to talk back so directly. Her smile vanished completely. One of the men behind her took a step forward, trying to intimidate me. But I set my phone upright on the table, screen facing outward. It was in the middle of a call. Dr. Carter’s voice came through the speaker: “Vivian, I’ve already sent your location to Mary. Stay put. The shop has cameras, and I’m recording this call.” Sienna narrowed her eyes. “You think this will save you?” “At least it keeps you from doing anything stupid tonight.” I stood up. “Miss Sterling, if you’re really that capable, stop fighting other people’s battles. If you want something, say it directly.” Sienna stared at me, lowering her voice. “I want you to disappear from Julian’s life.” “What a coincidence.” I picked up my coat. “So do I.” I walked out of the bakery, only to see Mary rushing over on a scooter, a pair of heavy fabric shears sitting in her front basket. Mary threw a helmet into my arms. “Get on the back, don’t look back!” I climbed onto the passenger seat. The wind whipped past my ears, and the baby in my belly let out a tiny laugh. “Mom! You were so badass back there!” I held Mary’s waist tightly. The running was over. From today on, I would make everyone who belittled and plotted against me pay in full! When we got back to the workshop, I didn’t sleep right away. I wrote down everything Sienna had said, word for word, including the height, clothing, and accents of the two men behind her. Mary walked in with hot water. Seeing my hands trembling as I wrote, she cursed in pity, “Why are you still writing this down right now?” “So there won’t be any confusion later,” I said. I had suffered too much from not having proof in the past. A simple “misunderstanding” from Chloe, a “stop causing trouble” from Julian, or an “be more generous” from bystanders was all it took to erase my pain. I didn’t want to use tears to beg for belief anymore. I wanted to keep a record of everything, even if it seemed tedious right now. The baby in my belly nudged me gently, as if in response. I looked down, pressing my palm against my stomach, finally feeling a solid warmth toward this sudden twist of fate.

Vivian’s POV Mary handed me a bowl of hot soup. “People make stupid decisions when they’re hungry.” Mary bolted the door. “Eat first. If you want to cry, do it after you’re full.” I held the bowl, the steam making my eyes sting. I hadn’t taken much when I left Julian’s villa. I didn’t touch any of the expensive jewelry, but I held my grandmother’s old ledger close to my chest. Mary flipped open the ledger, pointing to a few faded lines. “Your grandmother used to tailor clothes for a lot of wealthy ladies back in the day. Some of them still remember her craft. If you’re willing, I can introduce you. You can start taking orders. You can’t just hide forever.” Hiding wasn’t a long-term solution. I understood that. I needed money, a stable place to live, and an identity that could explain my whereabouts. Compared to the unlimited credit card Julian had given me, the money earned from individual orders was meager, but it allowed me to sleep peacefully. Starting the next day, I began taking orders to repair vintage clothes. My first client was a retired school teacher who brought in a wrinkled silk shirt, saying it was a gift her late husband had bought her when they were young. As I bent my head to thread the needle, the baby in my belly suddenly went quiet. After a long while, he said: “Mom, when you’re working, you’re different from your past life.” “How so?” “In your past life, you were always waiting for someone else’s approval. Now, you reach for what you want yourself.” My fingers paused for a second before I continued sewing. I didn’t want to take those words as a compliment, because it meant the other version of me had lived a life that was far too exhausting. As I was wrapping up for the night, a black town car pulled up outside. Julian got out of the car, standing at the door of the workshop, his expression darker than the night sky. Mary blocked the doorway. “You’re not welcome here.” Julian’s gaze bypassed her, landing on me. “Come out. I need to talk to you.” I put down my needle and thread. I didn’t hide. I was wearing a loose sweater, my hands covered in fabric dust, looking completely different from the elegant woman people compared at the gala. Julian looked at me, his throat moving. “If you need money, you can tell me. You don’t have to live in a place like this.” “Even if this place is old, it’s my choice,” I said. “No matter how nice your place is, it’s not mine.” Julian’s face darkened at my words. “When did I ever say it wasn’t yours?” “You never said it was mine.” I raised my eyes. “Julian, you gave me a place to live, clothes, and a credit card, but you never gave me a choice. Now that I’ve made my own choice, you’re angry?” Julian was silent for a moment, his voice softening. “Come back with me. I’ll handle Chloe.” The voice in my belly instantly exploded: “Don’t believe him! ‘Handling it’ to him just means stalling! Stalling until your heart softens, stalling until the baby can’t be hidden anymore, and then the Pierce family will dictate your entire life!” I looked at Julian and suddenly asked, “What if I don’t go back?” Julian’s eyes went cold. “Do you have to make things so difficult?” “You see,” I smiled faintly. “You didn’t come to take me back. You came to reclaim something that went out of your control.” I stepped back into the warm light of the workshop. As the door closed from the inside, Julian was still standing there. Through the glass, I saw him reveal a lost, bewildered expression for the very first time, as if he had finally realized the other end of the rope he held was completely empty. Julian didn’t knock on the door again that night. I didn’t get up to see if he had left. Mary told me later that he stood at the door for a while, then sat in his car checking his phone messages, but didn’t let the driver start the engine. I didn’t know what he was looking at, but I remembered the messages I used to send him over the years. Almost every one of them was short and restrained: What time are you coming back? Should I save dinner? The stomach medicine is in the left drawer. I never asked who he was with, and I rarely complained. I used to think that silence was maturity, a form of understanding. Now, looking back, those messages were like receipts, recording how he slowly drained my affection. I wondered later if he would call. But I didn’t wait. Whether he dialed and hung up, I didn’t know. All I knew was that he had probably never gone through my old messages word-for-word the way he was doing tonight. What did he want to say? I didn’t know. Because even I suddenly realized that every “come here,” “stop acting up,” and “be good” he had ever said to me were commands, not conversations. I finished repairing the client’s shirt, pressed it, and packed it. Only after doing all this did the tightness in my chest slowly begin to dissipate. It turned out that not responding was also a choice.

Vivian’s POV Three days after Julian left, a red paper bag appeared at the door of the workshop. Inside was a white baby onesie, with a few words hastily scribbled on the front in red marker: “YOU DON’T DESERVE HER.” The fabric at the chest of the onesie had been slashed open, right over where the heart would be. Mary cursed when she saw it, reaching out to burn it. I stopped her, keeping both the bag and the security footage. At the very bottom of the bag was a card with a single sentence: Don’t bring this curse into the world. My fingers went cold. The baby in my belly didn’t yell this time. He was silent for so long that I had to speak first. “Are you keeping secrets from me?” The tiny voice sounded choked. After a long time, he said, “Mom, I didn’t just want to be the heir.” I sat by the sewing machine, the light casting a pale glow over my face. “In my past life, you kept me too. You believed Julian once and moved into the private estate he arranged for your pregnancy. It had the best doctors, the quietest rooms, and locks on the doors. After you gave birth to me, the Pierce family said your health was failing, and they took me to the main estate. Every time you wanted to see me, you had to ask for their permission.” My breathing slowly became heavy. “I didn’t find out you were my mom until I was five. Before that, they made me call you ‘Aunt Vivian.’ Then, one rainy night, you ran to the kindergarten gates just to catch a glimpse of me. The security guards stopped you, and you fell gravely ill after going back. After that, I never saw you again.” The little voice was very quiet, but it couldn’t hide the tears. “On my eighth birthday, I fell down the stairs at the main estate. Everyone said it was an accident. But I remember someone had scattered marbles at the top of the stairs. When I opened my eyes, I was back to the moment where you had to decide if you wanted me.” The only sound left in the workshop was the low hum of the sewing machine. I suddenly remembered the long hallway of the Pierce family estate, where the lights were bright but entirely devoid of warmth. I used to think I was just unaccepted. Now I realized that being unaccepted was the best-case scenario. What was truly terrifying was that they would sever my child from my life, and then tell me it was for his own good. Mary couldn’t hear the whole story, but seeing my pale face, she asked anxiously, “What’s wrong?” I packed the baby shoes I was making into a clear bag. “Mary, I need a lawyer. And a doctor who can ensure my medical records can’t be accessed by anyone else.” Mary was stunned for a second. “You’re finally ready to fight back?” “Yes.” I sealed the bag. “I used to think about running away. That’s not enough anymore. I need them to know that I am not someone who can be quietly swept under the rug.” I contacted Dr. Evelyn Carter, and through her, I found Audrey Lawson. Audrey was a lawyer who specialized in family law and women’s rights. She spoke quickly, her eyes sharp. After hearing my story, she only asked one question: “Do you want to protect the child, or do you want to protect yourself?” I said, “Both.” Audrey nodded. “Then stop negotiating with them using emotions. You need a registered address, an income, prenatal records, and evidence. You also need a visible social circle. A person hidden in the dark is the easiest to manipulate.” I looked out the window. Julian had offered me the most beautiful cage, and Sienna wanted to seal the outside of it. But I chose to walk right into the light of the crowd. Audrey didn’t ask about the baby’s voice, nor did she press about the past life. I only told her I had a very long nightmare, a nightmare where I lost my child and my name as a mother. After hearing this, Audrey didn’t laugh. She just capped her pen. “Then we prepare for the worst-case scenario. Many tragedies in real life don’t happen because people don’t love their children enough, but because they have no boundaries, no evidence, and no way out.” I engraved the word “boundaries” into my mind. I used to think that loving someone meant asking for less and making things easier for them. But my child’s past life was like a bucket of cold water, waking me from my delusions: love without boundaries is easily taken for granted, until there is nothing left of you. When I left the law firm, I bought a new notebook downstairs. On the first page, I wrote one sentence: No more disappearing. I wanted to make sure my name appeared on ledgers, contracts, medical records, and in the memories of my neighbors. The more clearly I existed, the harder it would be for anyone to erase me.

Vivian’s POV Audrey listed three things for me to do. First, transfer all prenatal records to a private clinic affiliated with Dr. Carter, where any information request required my personal authorization. Second, immediately register my residence and employment so my life would no longer look like a blank space that could be deleted at any moment. Third, keep all evidence of threats and harassment, but never meet anyone alone. I followed her instructions perfectly. I rented a small storefront on a busy street in the old neighborhood. It was tiny, previously a flower shop, with water stains still visible on the walls. Mary thought it was too run-down, but Audrey loved it. “It’s on a busy street, there are neighbors, cameras, and customers. The more ordinary, the safer.” I named the shop “Renascent.” My grandmother loved that word. I missed her. There were no grand floral arrangements on opening day, only an apple pie baked by Mary. The retired teacher came by with her repaired shirt and introduced two of her friends on the spot. By the afternoon, my back was aching, but for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t afraid. At dusk, a young woman carrying a gift box walked into the shop, saying she wanted to repair a gown. She wore a mask, but her eyes kept darting to my stomach. The baby in my belly warned me immediately: “Mom, she’s not here to fix clothes. She has a recording pen in her bag. She wants to bait you into admitting you’re pregnant with Julian’s baby.” My heart went cold, but I kept my face blank. “Leave the gown here. Come back in three days,” I said. The woman smiled and asked, “Isn’t it hard running a shop alone, Miss Vance? I heard you used to be close with Mr. Pierce. Why did you suddenly stop talking? Are you pregnant and trying to extort him?” Two aunts waiting for their clothes looked up at the same time. I pushed the registration book forward. “Name and phone number for alterations. Personal matters are not registered here.” The woman, unwilling to back down, raised her voice. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m just worried about Chloe. She and Julian are childhood sweethearts, and they’re about to get married. It looks bad for you to be caught in the middle.” I smiled. “Whoever told you to say that, go talk to them about how it looks.” I picked up the landline phone on the counter and dialed Audrey’s number right in front of her. “Audrey, there’s someone in my shop asking about my personal information using Chloe and Julian’s names. The camera is on, and there are witnesses here. Should we call the police now, or send a cease-and-desist first?” The woman’s face paled. She grabbed her gift box and bolted. A car was parked outside, the window rolled halfway down, revealing Sienna Sterling’s icy side profile. She clearly hadn’t expected me to stop taking her insults quietly. I looked through the glass, not hiding, but not chasing either. That night, Julian called. I didn’t pick up. I sent him a text message: Keep the Sterling family in check. If this happens again, I will release all the names publicly. Julian replied almost instantly: Where on earth are you? I looked at the screen, and the baby in my belly said quietly, “Mom, don’t tell him.” “I know.” I deleted the chat and pulled down the metal shutter. The streetlights flickered on, casting the shadow of my little shop onto the ground. I suddenly felt that although my world was small, it finally had a door, and the key was in my own hands. Before going to bed, I counted the day’s earnings three times. It wasn’t a lot of money, not even a fraction of what Julian used to spend on a dress for me. But every bill carried the warmth of my customers’ hands and my own labor. When I put them into the tin box, they made a soft, reassuring sound, as if confirming one thing: I didn’t need Julian to survive. Mary called to ask if I was tired. I said yes, but it wasn’t the kind of exhaustion that had no end. Mary laughed on the other end. “The kind of tired that lets you sleep is a good kind of tired.” The baby was sleepy too, his voice soft. “Mom, are we opening the shop tomorrow?” “Yes.” I turned off the light. “The more they want me to hide, the more I will open my doors.” After saying this, I laughed. In the past, I was afraid of being seen. Now, I began to understand that what truly protected me was not the dark, but the bright light where everyone could see how I lived my life.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “441577”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On the day we were supposed to sign our marriage license at City Hall, Austin didn’t show up. When he finally picked up the phone, his voice was low and rushed. “Vivian is doing her first brand runway today. I can’t leave her. We can do this another day.” I watched the couples hugging at the entrance of City Hall. My throat felt tight. “Austin, do you still want to marry me?” Silence. That silence on the other end of the line was more humiliating than any fight we had ever shared. Ever since Vivian appeared in his life, I meant nothing to him anymore. I let out a bitter laugh and tested the waters. “Then let’s break up.” I didn’t expect him to reply almost instantly. “Fine.” Seconds later, Vivian posted a photo on Snapchat. She was standing on the stage, wearing his designer suit jacket over her shoulders. Her eyes were red. Her caption read: So glad I have you. I stared at our wedding rings for a very long time. Then, I threw them into the trash. Some promises are incredibly real when they are made. But when they fall apart, that breakdown is just as real. Austin, loving you is too exhausting. I give up.

Chloe’s POV Today was supposed to be our sixth anniversary. Three months ago, Austin slipped the paperwork for our marriage license into my hand. He told me that from this day on, we would celebrate this date under a new status. I believed him. I took the day off work. I wore the white silk blouse he once told me looked beautiful on me. I even packed the velvet ring box in my purse. But the appointment time passed. Austin never showed. When I called him for the third time, the line connected. I could hear applause in the background. A girl’s voice, thick with tears, whimpered, “Mr. Vance, can I really do this? I’m so scared I’ll ruin the show.” Austin’s voice was hushed. “Vivian is doing her first big brand runway today, Chloe. I can’t leave her. We can sign the papers another day. It doesn’t have to be today just because of some anniversary.” I watched a young couple laughing and hugging near the steps. My fingers slowly let go of my purse. I had been with Austin for six years. I knew better than anyone how much he used to care about milestones. He used to remember the anniversary of my mother’s passing. He would buy me flowers every time I wrapped up a major project. He planned every anniversary to perfection. But this year, that devotion found a new owner. When Vivian said she was afraid of the dark, he drove across the city at midnight to help her adjust the lighting in her studio. When Vivian said she didn’t understand camera angles, he canceled our dinner plans to personally review her video scripts. It turned out the date itself was never important. What mattered was who he wanted to spend it with. I asked, “Austin, do you still want to marry me?” The phone went dead silent. That silence was a slap in the face. I folded the appointment sheet in half. My voice was barely a whisper. “Then let’s break up.” It was as if Austin had been waiting for those exact words. He answered almost instantly. “Fine.” Six years of love. A morning that was supposed to make us husband and wife. To him, it ended with a single, effortless word. Right after I hung up, Vivian sent me a snap. In the photo, she stood on the runway stage. Austin’s blazer was draped over her shoulders. Her eyes were shiny with tears. Austin stood beside her, leaning in to adjust her microphone. The caption was short: So glad I have you. I stared at it for a long time. Then, I typed back: Good luck with the show. I blocked Austin’s number immediately. As I stood up, a wave of nausea hit me. I grabbed the back of a bench, forcing the sick feeling down. The Uber driver asked where to. I looked at the city lights blurring outside the window. My voice was hoarse. “Home. I need to pack.” Halfway there, a text popped up on my laptop from Austin’s iCloud: Stop throwing a tantrum. Let’s talk when I get home tonight. I looked at the screen and wanted to laugh. To him, my forty minutes of waiting, the sound of another woman’s voice, and my breaking point were all just a “tantrum.” He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t ask how long I had waited. He just assumed I would be waiting at the apartment. He assumed I couldn’t let go of him. He assumed six years of habit would drag me right back to his feet. I shut my laptop. I didn’t reply. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror and handed me a tissue. I took it, but I didn’t cry. I pulled the ring box out of my bag and opened it. The ring was simple. I had picked it out myself. Austin had promised he would slide it onto my finger at City Hall. Now, he didn’t have to. I snapped the box shut and put it in my coat pocket. Not because I couldn’t let go, but because I wanted to remind myself: some promises are real when they are made, but they rot just as quickly. I couldn’t pretend something wasn’t dead just because it used to be alive. When I reached our building, I didn’t go up right away. The windows of our penthouse were dark. I knew what was inside. The sofa we bought together, the plush rug he insisted on buying because he hated the cold winter floors, the floor plan of the nursery we had passionately discussed. Those things were still there. But our future was gone. Standing in the cold wind, I opened our shared Google Calendar. One by one, I deleted the events: Sign marriage license, wedding ring fitting, dinner with parents. Finally, my phone prompted: Do you want to keep the shared photo album? I stared at the prompt. I tapped Keep. Not out of sentiment, but because I didn’t have the strength to process six years of memories today. You can’t rip out a deep wound on day one. I just needed to pack my things, get out of that apartment, and slowly crawl out of the wreckage of my past.

Chloe’s POV The apartment was still filled with the ghosts of our upcoming wedding. Matching slippers sat by the door. A medical checklist for our pre-marital checkup was pinned to the fridge. On the dining table lay the shopping list I had written last night. I had planned for us to go ring shopping right after City Hall. Now, every bullet point looked like a joke. Austin came back at dusk. He rang the doorbell instead of using his keys. In his hand was a hot container of clam chowder from my favorite bistro. He looked tired, a familiar, practiced exhaustion on his face. “Eat something first. I’m sorry about noon, Chloe. But Vivian really couldn’t handle it alone. It was her first time in front of a crowd. She was shaking.” I didn’t reach for the soup. “I’ll have your things packed and sent to your office.” Austin frowned. “You’re the one who called for a breakup.” “Yes. That’s why I’m handling the logistics.” He looked taken aback by my calm tone. Whenever we argued in the past, I always left room for reconciliation. Austin would say a few sweet words, and I would let it go. I couldn’t bear to lose six years of history. I couldn’t let go of the boy who used to look at me like I was his entire world. But that boy was long gone. Austin set the soup down on the console table. “Take a couple of days to cool off, Chloe. Don’t burn your bridges over a temporary mood.” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “You agreed so quickly on the phone. Isn’t this what you wanted all along?” A flash of guilt and panic crossed Austin’s face. The moment the door shut behind him, I ran to the bathroom and threw up. I thought it was just my stomach acting up from the stress. But the next morning, the smell of the cold soup made me gag all over again. By the time Maya rushed over, I was sitting on the floor, pulling photos out of our scrapbooks. I was sliding Austin’s pictures out one by one. My movements were slow, like I was conducting a quiet funeral for a dead relationship. Maya snatched the album away. “Stop doing this. Why do you look so pale?” I shook my head. “Just didn’t sleep well.” Maya stared at me for a few seconds. “Chloe… when was your last period?” My hand froze in mid-air. The last time Austin and I were intimate was two weeks ago. He had been a little drunk. He held me tight, whispering that he wanted a baby. He said he wanted a little girl who would be as smart as me. I believed him that night. I even thought that if I got pregnant after City Hall, it would be a beautiful new beginning. But now, Austin didn’t want me anymore. Maya pulled me up from the floor. “We’re going to the clinic. Now.” When the lab results came back, the doctor’s voice was gentle. “The pregnancy is very early. You need to keep your stress low and get plenty of rest. Does the father know?” I looked at the slip of paper. My throat felt like it was blocked by concrete. “He doesn’t need to know.” I already loved this tiny life inside me. But it had arrived too late, and at such a painful cost. It felt like a final anchor Austin had left in my body, trying to drag back a woman who had already decided to run. Outside the clinic, Maya asked, “What’s the plan, Chloe?” I folded the ultrasound and tucked it into my bag. “Just get through today.” I couldn’t make life-altering decisions while I was at my weakest. I had to pull myself out of the mess Austin and Vivian had created first. Maya stayed with me the whole way back. We didn’t talk about the baby, and we didn’t talk about Austin. We just stopped by the pharmacy to pick up the prenatal vitamins the doctor prescribed, and ordered some light chicken broth from the diner downstairs. I sat at the table, taking one slow sip at a time. My stomach was still in knots, but I forced myself to keep it down. Maya’s eyes grew red as she watched me. “You don’t have to put on a brave face for me, you know.” “If I don’t hold myself together, who will?” I murmured. The room went dead silent. Austin used to shield me from the storms. Or at least, I thought he did. When I was drowning in overtime, he would wait downstairs with coffee. When I was grieving my mother, he would cancel his meetings to hold me. But if a man’s reliability only lasts as long as his feelings, it isn’t reliability. It’s just charity on a good day. I touched my lower abdomen. For the first time, I seriously wondered: If I keep this baby, can I raise them alone in a world where we don’t have to beg for Austin’s attention? I didn’t have the answer yet. But I knew I needed an escape route. That night, I couldn’t sleep in our bed. His pillow still smelled faintly of his sandalwood cologne. I took a light blanket and slept on the living room couch. In the middle of the night, the nausea woke me up again. Maya sat on the floor next to me, fighting sleep, her eyes half-closed as she muttered curses at Austin. “He better not show his face here, or I’ll smash him with a frying pan.” I let out a weak laugh, and only then did the tears finally spill over. It hurt. It hurt so bad. But I finally understood that even if it hurt, I could never run back to Austin’s arms. That embrace was now reserved for Vivian’s tears and drama. It was no longer a safe place for me.

Chloe’s POV When I returned to the marketing agency after three days of leave, I found my desk had been moved. I was no longer by the window. That window seat was a spot I had earned inch by inch, working my way up from an intern to a senior creative director. Now, my plants were gone, my project drafts had been shuffled through, and even the framed photo of my mother and me at the old pier was missing from my desk. Inside the glass conference room, Vivian was standing there. She was wearing my custom-designed forest green blazer. That blazer was a prototype I had created for our pitch to renovate the SoHo Leather Factory. I had designed it using my mother’s vintage leatherwork techniques as inspiration. I wanted to pitch turning that abandoned factory into a community exhibition space for heritage crafts. It was a project I had poured my heart into for over eight months. Vivian spotted me and immediately jogged out of the room. “Chloe. You’re back. I thought you needed a few more days off. Mr. Davis said I should take over as the lead presenter for the SoHo project for now. Please don’t be mad. I’m just stepping in to help.” I stared at the blazer on her. “Take it off.” Vivian blinked, taken aback. “What?” “That’s my custom prototype,” I said, my voice cold. “It’s not company property.” The chatter in the office died down instantly. Vivian’s eyes welled with tears on cue. “Chloe, I just thought this blazer matched the theme of today’s pitch so well. Austin… I mean, Mr. Vance also said that you haven’t been in the right headspace lately, and that it’s better if you don’t present.” I finally looked into the conference room. Austin was sitting in the client’s chair, Vivian’s presentation slides open in front of him. Seeing me, his brows knit together. He looked at me with warning eyes, as if blaming me for making a scene. Mr. Davis stepped out of the room, whispering, “Chloe, don’t do this now. The Vance Group is the primary investor for this exhibition. Austin wants Vivian to lead this. You’ll still get credit behind the scenes.” Behind the scenes. I was the one who had made dozens of trips to the dusty factory ruins. I was the one who interviewed the retired craftsmen, archived the old leather samples, and scanned my mother’s hand-drawn blueprints page by page. Now, Vivian was wearing my design, speaking my words, and stealing my spotlight. And I was supposed to be satisfied with “behind-the-scenes credit.” Without another word, I reached out and yanked the blazer off Vivian’s shoulders. Vivian gasped, stumbling back as tears streamed down her face. “Chloe! I know you’re hurting because of you and Austin, but you can’t bring your personal drama into the workplace!” Austin stood up, his chair scraping loudly. “Chloe.” I draped the blazer over my arm, keeping my voice steady and clear. “If you’re going to steal my pitch, at least don’t wear my clothes to do it.” Nobody dared to breathe in the open office. Austin’s face darkened. “Vivian is a junior. She needs this opportunity.” “Opportunities are built, Austin. Not stripped off my back.” Vivian sobbed louder. I didn’t give them another glance. I walked over to my new cramped desk, opened my laptop, and got to work. I didn’t cry, and I didn’t quit on the spot. Instead, I backed up every single file of the SoHo project. The original concept drafts, the interview recordings, the licensing agreements for my mother’s designs, and the prototype manufacturing records. I had already lost my relationship. I was not going to let them steal my life’s work. Once the backup was complete, I didn’t leave immediately. I walked into the archive room and began packing my personal belongings and my mother’s vintage design books. Seeing how quiet and methodical I was, my coworkers kept their distance. Vivian watched me through the glass, her smugness slowly giving way to anxiety. Mr. Davis came over to placate me. “Chloe, we’re all colleagues here. No need to burn bridges. Vivian is young, she doesn’t know the industry rules yet.” I looked up. “If she doesn’t know the rules, why is she leading a multi-million dollar project?” Mr. Davis choked on his words. I packed my mother’s sketches into a waterproof bag, filled out a property release form, and made the receptionist sign it. In the past, I ran on loyalty. I never kept strict receipts because I thought of this agency as my second home. Now I realized: a home doesn’t move your desk the second you take three days off, nor does it hand your mother’s legacy to another woman. I saw Austin standing by the door of the conference room. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he ultimately remained silent. I carried my storage box right past him, not even letting my sleeve brush against his. A colleague next to my old desk whispered, “Do you need help, Chloe?” I shook my head. I didn’t want to drag anyone else into the mud with Austin and Vivian. But she quietly pushed an empty cardboard box toward me and whispered, “Make sure you didn’t leave any original sketches behind.” That simple gesture almost made me break down. I realized that not everyone in this office was blind. Many saw the injustice. They were just too afraid to speak up. I finished copying the last interview tape and placed my mother’s photo at the top of the box. Vivian could steal the spotlight on stage, but she could never fake the soul of the work.

Chloe’s POV The first dry run of the SoHo exhibition was scheduled at the old factory’s central warehouse. This place was where my mother had worked when she was a young designer. After she passed, I rarely came back. But for this project, I had loaned my company her vintage tailor rulers, leather swatches, and handwritten journals. I wanted people to see the beauty of the old craftsmanship. During the dry run, Vivian stood on the stage, reciting my opening remarks. “Every vintage piece is not waste. They are simply pushed into the shadows by time…” Standing in the crowd, a sharp pain flared in my stomach. Vivian delivered the lines with practiced emotion, but she mispronounced the basic leather terms my mother had coined. Several retired craftsmen sitting in the front row frowned, their faces turning grim. Mr. Davis frantically approached me, begging, “Chloe, please. Go up there and save the pitch.” I didn’t budge. Austin walked over, whispering in my ear, “You know this part best. Go up and help her.” I looked at him. “Isn’t she the lead?” “Chloe, stop being childish. Not now.” “I’m not being childish.” I looked at the stage. “I’m just letting the lead present her own work.” On stage, Vivian completely froze. She looked at Austin, tears pooling in her eyes. Austin instinctively took a step toward the stage, but the museum curator stood up first. “Miss Vivian, you mentioned this vintage tailor ruler belonged to your grandmother?” My head snapped up. Vivian hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. “Yes… she used it to support our family back in the day.” That ruler was my mother’s most precious possession. Blood rushed to my ears. I walked straight up to the stage, took the ruler out of the display case, and looked Vivian dead in the eye. “Vivian. Say it again. Whose is this?” Vivian’s face drained of color. Austin was stunned. “Vivian?” Vivian immediately burst into tears. “I didn’t mean to! The script wasn’t clear, I thought it was just a generic story we were using for the brand! Chloe, don’t be so mean… I really didn’t know it was your mother’s!” I turned to Austin. “Hear that? She can’t even memorize the story she stole.” Austin’s face was incredibly tense, but his first instinct was still to step in front of Vivian. “We’ll discuss this back at the office.” “No.” I put the ruler back into my box. “We discuss it here. I am officially pulling out of the SoHo project. My mother’s legacy, my drafts, and my personal items are leaving this building right now.” Mr. Davis panicked. “Chloe, don’t do this! The exhibition has already been approved by the city board!” “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.” I hugged the wooden box of my mother’s things and turned to walk out. Vivian ran after me, grabbing my sleeve. “Chloe, please! I really didn’t mean to! You’re going to ruin the entire project!” I jerked my arm back to get away from her. But Vivian lost her footing, slipping and crashing straight into the temporary lighting rig beside the stage. The rig wobbled violently, and a heavy, rusted metal sign came crashing down. Instinctively, I curled my body to protect my mother’s box. But my lower abdomen slammed hard against the sharp edge of the display counter. A sharp, blinding pain exploded deep inside my belly. My face went completely white. Warm blood began to run down my legs. By the time Austin rushed over, I was too weak to stand. He reached out to cradle me, but I used every ounce of my remaining strength to push him away. “Don’t touch me.” Austin froze, his hands trembling in the air. Clutching my mother’s wooden box, I slid down to the cold floor. I saw Vivian standing a few feet away, her face filled with horror, but she didn’t step forward. When the wail of the siren echoed outside, my vision finally went black. I realized then that love doesn’t always die slowly. Sometimes, it is stomped into the dirt, over and over, until there is nothing left to save. Before the ambulance doors slammed shut, Austin finally caught up, panting. I had never seen him look so terrified. He kept reaching out, trying to grasp my hand. But the paramedics blocked him. Maya stood in his way, her eyes wild with anger. “Get the hell away from her!” Maya screamed at him. “Now you care? Where was this urgency when you were busy protecting Vivian?” Austin’s lips parted, but not a single sound came out. Inside the ambulance, the pain kept dragging me into unconsciousness, but I refused to let go of the wooden box. The paramedic tried to take it, but I shook my head fiercely. That box held my mother’s tools, her designs, and the last piece of myself I had left. Outside, Vivian was being comforted by a coworker, weeping softly. She kept saying she didn’t mean to, but her very first question wasn’t about me. It was asking Austin if he was mad at her. Everyone heard it. The lights of the old factory faded in the distance. The banner outside still read: New Life for Old Things. But what I lost in that warehouse would never have a new life. In the ambulance, the doctor asked if I had any family members present. Maya immediately grabbed my hand. “I’m her family.” I couldn’t speak, but a tear slipped from the corner of my eye. For six years, I thought Austin was my home. But when my world fell apart, the one standing in front of the storm wasn’t my fiancé. It was my best friend. Maya squeezed my hand tightly. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, Chloe. Stay with me. You have to get through this, so we can watch those two rot in hell.” I tried to nod, but only a faint gasp escaped my lips. The nurse finally took the wooden box and handed it to Maya for safekeeping. As my eyes closed, the doctor’s warning flashed through my mind: Keep your stress low. I had tried so hard to stay steady. But they had pulled the rug right out from under my feet.

Chloe’s POV The baby was gone. The doctor said the pregnancy was too early, and my body was already severely exhausted from stress. The impact was just the final trigger. When Maya heard the news, she sobbed in the hallway until she couldn’t breathe. But I was dead silent. I was so quiet, it felt like I had left my voice back at that warehouse. The next morning, Maya brought a fresh container of clam chowder. Seeing Austin standing outside my hospital room, she slammed the food down on the counter. “Oh, look who decided to show up. Where were you when she was waiting at City Hall? Where were you when they were stealing her work? When she was bleeding, your first instinct was still to check if Vivian had a scratch!” Austin’s voice cracked. “I just want to see her.” “She doesn’t want to see you. Ever.” Inside the room, I heard every word, but I didn’t say anything. I stared out the window, my palm resting flat against my empty stomach. I had spent nights agonizing over whether I should bring this child into the world. But losing them left an ache that stripped away any remaining dignity I had. It felt as though a tiny hand had briefly touched mine, only to be violently ripped away by this nightmare. In the afternoon, I asked Maya to bring me my laptop. Maya’s eyes were puffy. “You just had surgery. Can’t this wait?” “If I wait, they’ll write the narrative for me,” I said softly. “I’m not letting them call me ’emotionally unstable’ again.” I sent a formal email to the agency, the museum curator, and my lawyer. The email was simple: I was revoking all licenses. My mother’s estate, the interviews, the scans, and the blazer design. All use was to stop immediately. As for the warehouse accident, I demanded a full investigation into the safety of the lighting rig and the contractor responsible. After sending the email, I asked Maya to help me move my things out of our apartment. I wanted my car and a few boxes of files moved to a secure location. I left all further communication to my lawyer. Maya blinked. “Where are you going to go, Chloe?” “The warehouse.” It was an old, dusty storage unit my mother had left me in Queens. Austin had always looked down on it, calling it a useless piece of junk. But it was mine. I didn’t have the energy to sort through six years of life right now. But I could hide there to heal, far away from any place Austin could find me. Two days later, I checked out of the hospital. I didn’t go back to the penthouse. I went straight to Queens. Maya came with me. I handed my old phone over to my lawyer and set up an auto-forward for Austin’s emails. While Austin was still guarding the empty hospital lobby, my car was already heading out of the city. I didn’t say much on the drive. Maya, worried I was freezing, draped her coat over my lap. To keep my mind off things, she blasted a loud, trashy pop song on the radio. I listened to the beat and actually fell asleep for fifteen minutes. When I woke up, the sun had set. The highway lights flashed past, cutting my past into distant, fading frames. Maya asked, “Any regrets?” I shook my head. Of course, I was scared. The warehouse was cold, my body was weak, and I had no idea how I was going to make a living or deal with the grief. But I knew one thing for sure: staying where Austin could reach me would only drag me back into the mud of his guilt and Vivian’s malice. Leaving wasn’t about being brave. It was about survival. The Queens warehouse was in worse shape than I remembered. The iron door was rusted, the roof leaked, and moss grew in the corners. Maya frowned the moment we stepped inside. “Are you sure you want to stay here? The wind at night is going to sound like a horror movie.” I stood in the center of the dusty room. For the first time in days, I felt grounded. There were no matching slippers here. No trace of Vivian’s perfume. No one asking me why I couldn’t just “be the bigger person.” It was run-down, but every square inch of it belonged to me. I decided to turn the warehouse into my new independent studio. For the first few days, my body was still recovering, so Maya forbid me from doing any heavy lifting. We hired a contractor to fix the roof, change the locks, and paint the walls. I sat on a folding chair, sipping my warm herbal tea, organizing my mother’s old leather patterns. I placed her wooden box on the highest shelf. Inside, I slipped a small post-it note: I’m sorry. I will live a good life. I didn’t write a name. The baby was too small. Too small to have ever been called by a name in this world.

Chloe’s POV My first client came through Maya. An old, prestigious boutique in Soho was planning their 20th-anniversary exhibition. The budget was tight, but the standards were incredibly high. The owner, Valerie, came to see my warehouse in person. She noticed my pale face and asked bluntly, “Is your health going to be an issue?” I looked her in the eye. “If there’s something I can’t handle, I’ll tell you upfront. What I promise to do, I will deliver perfectly.” Valerie smiled. “I like that. Realistic over idealistic.” She gave me a shot: I had three days to pitch a concept for their heritage collection. I took it. For those three days, I didn’t pull any all-nighters. The doctor said I needed rest, so I broke the work into small chunks. When I was tired, I stopped. Maya took care of my meals. When I finally emailed the deck to Valerie, her response was short: You’re hired. Staring at the screen, my eyes filled with tears. I didn’t become useless just because I left Austin. I had simply returned to my own battlefield. Once the contract was signed, I installed the first proper light fixture in my warehouse. When the bulb flickered on, the dust motes in the air became visible. Maya pinched her nose, but I stood in the light for a long time. I remembered how my mother used to repair leather bags under a similar light when I was a kid. We weren’t rich, but she always said that whether an old item can be saved doesn’t depend on how damaged it is, but on whether someone has the patience to stitch it back together. I used to apply that logic to my relationship, and it ended up destroying me. N ow, I finally knew the difference: things can be repaired, but a rotten heart is better left in the trash. As we prepared for the first mini-exhibition, my body still had moments of sudden weakness. Valerie didn’t rush me; she simply pushed the launch date back by two days. Around that time, the name Julian first appeared in my inbox. He was a non-profit director Valerie had introduced, and he sent over a very detailed, professional partnership proposal. My first instinct was to put up my guard. I realized Austin had conditioned me to be afraid. I was so used to being controlled that when someone offered a genuine, equal partnership, I immediately looked for the catch. After Valerie left one afternoon, I sat by the warehouse door, letting the cool breeze hit my face. The salty air from the East River made my stomach ache slightly. Maya handed me a hot water bottle, lecturing me, “If you overwork yourself again, I will literally tie you to the bed.” “Deal,” I smiled. My quick agreement caught Maya off guard. In the past, I hated bothering people. Even with a high fever, I would tell everyone I was fine. Now, I was finally learning to accept care. Not because I was weak, but because I realized that if you want to stand back up, you can’t do it while pretending your wounds aren’t bleeding. That night, I wrote down the first rule for my new studio: No sacrificing health for a deadline. I stared at the sentence. It felt like a final farewell to the girl who used to destroy herself just to please everyone else. Once the deposit cleared, I felt a sense of relief I hadn’t felt in years. This money was mine. It wasn’t a payout from Austin, and it wasn’t a corporate bonus. It was earned by my own hands. I used some of it to patch the rest of the roof and saved the rest in a business account. Maya asked why I was being so strict with the finances. “No matter what happens,” I told her, “this studio needs to have at least three months of runway to survive on its own.” It sounded like business talk, but it was actually my safety net. That night, as I sat alone in the warehouse filing invoices, I found myself smiling. Austin had gifted me expensive jewelry in the past, but none of it ever made me feel this secure. Real peace of mind doesn’t come from the price tag. It comes from knowing exactly how it was earned, and where it’s going.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “441578”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Adrian was cheating on me. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find his mistress. In the steam-filled bathroom, severely depressed, I lay in the bathtub, letting the blood from my wrists drip into the water, watching my life slip away. It was my sister, Natalie, who kicked the door open and saved me. It was Natalie who later drove her car straight into Adrian, leaving him half-dead, forcing him to get on his knees in front of my hospital bed to beg for my forgiveness. From that day on, Adrian changed. He stopped staying out late at elite clubs. He came straight home from work every single day. Even if he ran into other women on the street, he would literally step thirty feet away to keep his distance. I thought our marriage had finally reached a turning point. Until today, when I received a FaceTime call from myself—ten years in the future. Looking at the pale, sickly “me” on the screen, I frowned and asked, “But he stopped cheating, didn’t he?” The future me didn’t say a word. She just flipped the camera. On the screen, Adrian was gently caressing Natalie’s swollen, pregnant belly. His eyes were filled with an agonizing, suppressed pain. “It’s been ten years, Natalie. Please, don’t abort this baby again, okay?” “How much longer are you going to punish me?” Natalie was sobbing, tears streaming down her face. “We betrayed Chloe. This baby… we don’t deserve to keep it.” I froze, my blood turning to ice. The mistress I could never find, the woman my husband was sleeping with, was my beloved sister. Adrian had hidden her so well. He hid her so well that she was pregnant, and I hadn’t suspected a thing. The camera flipped back to my future self. Ten years later, I stared at myself with a wild, crazed laugh. “Do you hear them?” “Adrian never loved you.” “Just pull the trigger. End it now. Set them free.”

I lowered my eyes and slowly picked up the pistol from the desk. I pressed the cold metal barrel against my temple. “Adrian is a total germaphobe, Chloe. Why do you think he suddenly volunteers to take out the trash every single day? Did you really think Natalie was staying with us just to help watch him?” “Don’t be stupid. Go look at the blind spot behind the garage. Those ten minutes when he takes out the trash is the only time they get to escape your suffocating presence.” “They use that time to make out like animals!” The front door clicked open. Adrian was home. Seeing the gun pressed against my temple, his face instantly went dead white. “Chloe! What the hell are you doing?!” He didn’t even take off his shoes. He lunged forward like a madman. The voice on the phone kept screaming: “Look at his wrist! You know how severe his OCD is. Look at him right now!” Adrian had severe germaphobia and OCD. His shirt cuffs were always folded back exactly three times, perfectly neat, exposing his wrists. But right now, his cuffs were messy and unbuttoned. There was even a faint smudge of red lipstick on the edge of the fabric. My gaze drifted past him, landing on Natalie. Her makeup was slightly smeared. Clank. My hands lost all strength. The gun slipped, almost grazing my ear as it hit the table. Adrian stopped dead in his tracks, his hands raised in the air, speaking in a trembling, soothing voice. “Chloe, put the gun down. Please. Don’t hurt yourself.” I stared at his messy cuffs, my voice shaking uncontrollably. “Who is she?” Adrian froze. He quickly unlocked his phone, opened his Snapchat location history, and thrust it in front of me. “I just went down to empty the trash bin. It was right outside. It took less than ten minutes.” A deep, exhausting weariness washed over his eyes. “Chloe, that incident happened three years ago. How much longer are you going to keep dragging me through this hell?” “I am so tired from taking care of you every single day. Please, stop being so paranoid.” As he spoke, he stepped forward, trying to grab the gun. I waved the pistol wildly, stepping back. “Don’t touch me!” The gun knocked against the edge of the desk. In my panic, my finger pulled the trigger. A loud bang echoed through the room. The bullet grazed my palm, and bright red blood spurted out, dripping heavily onto the hardwood floor. “Chloe!” Natalie screamed and rushed forward to stop me. But she ran too fast, twisting her ankle and crashing hard against the side cabinet. “Natalie!” Adrian lunged forward almost instinctively to catch her. But just as his hands were about to touch her waist, he seemed to realize something. He froze in mid-air, forcing his hands back. Natalie looked at my bleeding hand, turned around, and slapped Adrian across the face. “You bastard! You pushed her again! You know she is sick!” The slap was incredibly loud. Adrian’s head snapped to the side. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, fighting to control his exploding emotions. When he turned back to look at me, all the frustration and disgust in his eyes had vanished. He was back to being the submissive, gentle husband again. “I’m sorry. I lost my temper. Chloe, you’re bleeding. Let me bandage it.” Adrian knelt in front of me, but his eyes were glued to Natalie’s swollen ankle. After quickly wrapping my hand, he naturally handed the first-aid kit to Natalie. His voice was incredibly hoarse. “Put some ice on that ankle. Now.” Watching his pathetic, secretive tenderness toward her, I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and locked myself in the bedroom. Three years ago, when I first caught Adrian cheating. I had searched every hotel room like a lunatic, but I couldn’t find a single strand of that woman’s hair. In utter despair, I locked myself in the bathroom and slit my wrists. It was Natalie who drove her car into him, dragging his bloodied body to my bedside to confess. That day, the proud Adrian had knelt before me, crying like a child who had lost his entire world. “Chloe, I beg you. You can’t die. I love you.” That heartbreaking display made me believe he actually loved me. But now, a phone call from the future had shattered every beautiful lie I lived in.

This wasn’t just a corporate office. It was a perfect, one-to-one replica of our master bedroom. The dark green velvet sofa. The floor lamp in the corner that Adrian had personally picked out. Even the fresh lilies on the coffee table were identical to the ones we had at home. But there was one major difference. The wall where our wedding photo should have hung was covered in hundreds of photos of Natalie. Natalie cooking in the kitchen. Natalie sleeping on the sofa… Every photo was shot with breathtaking lighting and warmth. Even through the paper, I could feel an overwhelming, suffocating love. My heart shattered into a million pieces. I remembered our honeymoon. I had spent two hours on my makeup, happily begging Adrian to take a photo of me. He had just clicked the shutter twice, completely distracted, leaving me with two blurry, ugly pictures. It turned out he didn’t hate taking photos. He just saved all of his patience and love for Natalie. Footsteps echoed outside the door. I snapped out of my daze and hid inside the walk-in closet. The door pushed open. “Let go of me!” Natalie choked back a sob, trying to shake off Adrian’s grip. But Adrian held her tightly, pressing her against his chest like a madman. “Natalie, I can’t do this anymore!” “When she held that gun today, all I could think was… if she just pulled the trigger, would we finally be free?” Natalie slapped him hard. “You monster! She is your wife!” “But I don’t love her!” Adrian’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice dripping with despair. “You have no idea how much I suffocate sleeping next to her every night.” “Natalie, let me just tell her the truth. If she agrees to a divorce, I will give her every single penny I own!” Natalie broke down crying. “No! If you tell her now, you will kill her!” Adrian buried his face in her neck, clinging to her like a drowning man. “What about me? You worry about her, but who is going to save me?” Natalie wept as if her heart was breaking. “When we were ten, she pushed me out of the way of that speeding truck. I swore I would protect her with my life. But I fell in love with her husband!” “And when you pissed off those thugs for your business deal, she was the one who got cornered in the parking lot for you…” “If it weren’t for us, Chloe wouldn’t be sick. How can we do this to her?” Adrian trembled, kissing her tears away. Inside the dark closet, my nails dug deep into the wound on my palm. The blood started flowing again, but I couldn’t feel any pain. So that was the truth. How beautiful. How romantic. One betrayed her own heart to repay a life-saving debt. The other carried a heavy cross out of guilt. In their grand, epic, tragic love story, what the hell was I? After what felt like an eternity, the room fell silent. I crawled out of the closet and walked out of the office building, stumbling like a ghost. The freezing winter wind slashed my face, drying my tears. I suddenly remembered the day Adrian had thrown the divorce papers at me, screaming that he wanted out even if it meant losing everything. But then, he suddenly stopped mentioning it. He wasn’t staying for me. He was terrified that my death would stain his hands, and that Natalie would never be able to live with the guilt. Since they were in so much pain, I decided to set them free. I pulled out my phone and dialed my lawyer’s number. “Marcus, please draft a divorce agreement for me. As fast as possible.” The line went dead silent for a long time. “Chloe, is this a joke?” Marcus’s voice was filled with confusion and pity. “There is no marriage record for you and Adrian in the county system.” “Chloe, in the eyes of the law… you are still single.”

I stood on the freezing street, my mind going completely blank. So, Adrian gave me a diamond ring, a lavish wedding, and took care of me daily. But he kept his legal status absolutely clean and single for Natalie. Even when he was acting out this marriage with me, he was saving his legal wife spot for her. I laughed. I laughed until my face was soaked with tears. Yet, holding onto the very last shred of hope, I redialed the number from ten years later. “I want to know… did he ever love me? Even for a second?” The line was quiet for a long while. “Go to the VIP wing of the hospital right now. You’ll see how pathetic your question is.” I walked to the hospital like a hollow shell. Through the glass window of the private room, I saw Natalie throwing up into a basin, likely from a stomach bug. And Adrian—the man who couldn’t stand a speck of dust, the extreme germaphobe—was gently wiping the vomit from the corner of her mouth with his bare hand. My tears fell silently. Six months ago, when I threw up in the middle of the night due to my antidepressant side effects, what did he do? He recoiled as if he had been shocked, frowning as he called the maid to clean it up. Then he locked himself in the bathroom and took three showers. He didn’t look at me once as I lay gasping on the floor. But with Natalie, his germaphobia completely disappeared. Adrian came out carrying the basin. Seeing me, he immediately shut the door behind him. Seeing my bare feet and blue lips, his defensive stance relaxed. He took off his coat and wrapped it around me. “Are you insane? Running out like this in the middle of the night? Do you want to die?” Even now, he was still playing the dutiful protector. I stared at him, my voice eerily calm. “She’s in there, right?” Adrian’s face darkened, his grip on my shoulder tightening. “That’s an important client. You’re having an episode. I’m taking you home.” I shoved him hard and slammed the door open. “Chloe!” Adrian roared. The person on the bed gasped, quickly pulling the blanket over her head. I reached for the edge of the blanket. I could have ripped their lies apart right then and there, but my hand froze. Even at this point, I wanted to hear them admit it. Under Adrian’s terrified gaze, I pulled a small pocket knife from my coat. I pointed it directly at my chest. “Adrian, pull that blanket off. Tell me who she is.” “Or I will die right here, tonight.” “Your choice.” Adrian didn’t move. The patience in his eyes slowly turned into pure disgust. “Chloe, do you think threatening me with your life still works?” “For three years, every time something doesn’t go your way, you play the suicide card. Don’t you get tired of playing the girl who cried wolf?” The girl who cried wolf. So, every time I had reached out to him while drowning in depression, it was just a cheap performance in his eyes. The final spark of hope in my heart died. I gave a soft laugh and plunged the knife toward my chest. Adrian’s face deformed in horror. “Don’t you dare touch her!” Without even looking at where my knife was aimed, he lunged forward and kicked me squarely in the stomach. I flew backward, crashing violently onto the hard floor. A sharp, tearing pain exploded in my lower abdomen. But I didn’t cry. I just watched him wrap his arms around the woman on the bed, shielding her with his body, staring at me like I was a rabid animal. He thought I was going to hurt her. So he didn’t hesitate to break me. In that moment, I was truly, completely exhausted. “Adrian, the game is over.” “Let’s end this.” Adrian’s shock lasted only three seconds before he sneered. “Stop testing me. If you really wanted to leave, you would have done it years ago.” “This time, I mean it—” Crash. The person on the bed, trembling violently, fell off the mattress and landed straight into the shattered glass of a dropped water cup. A muffled cry of pain came from under the blanket. Adrian panicked. He scooped her up in his arms, rushing toward the door without a single backward glance at me. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ve got you. Let’s find a doctor.” I lay on the freezing tile floor, watching a dark, terrifying pool of blood spread from beneath my legs.

Before I even knew I was pregnant, I had a miscarriage. Adrian sat by my bedside, his face filled with guilt. “Chloe, it just wasn’t the right time. Once you get better, we can try again.” I stared at him blankly, catching the subtle sigh of relief in his eyes. This was the second child we had lost. Three years ago, during my first pregnancy, Natalie had moved in to help take care of me. That was when she and Adrian started. After that, Adrian stopped coming home. On the night Natalie also didn’t return, I slipped in the bathroom and suffered a massive hemorrhage, losing the baby. It was after that night that I found his cheating evidence and tried to slit my wrists. How pathetic. My two unborn children were nothing but collateral damage in their grand romance. Adrian clearly recalled that night too. He couldn’t look me in the eye. He mumbled something about paying the hospital bill and fled the room. My phone screen lit up. “Do you really think you miscarried because of his kick? The pills he’s been giving you for years… they weren’t just antidepressants. They were laced with birth control. Even if you got pregnant by accident, you could never carry a baby to term.” “Chloe, let go. The longer you stay alive to block them, the stronger their love grows. Only your death can pin them to the pillar of shame forever.” I silently hung up the phone. No screaming. No crying. After being discharged, I was unnaturally quiet. I stopped checking his phone. I stopped asking questions. But the quieter I became, the more terrified they grew. Finally, Adrian couldn’t take the tension anymore. “There’s an emergency at the office. I need to go out of town for a week.” He watched me closely, bracing himself for an explosive meltdown. But I just nodded calmly. “Okay.” Then I looked at Natalie. “You must be tired of looking after me, Natalie. Take this week off too. I can manage.” Both of them froze. They hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. The excuses they had prepared died in their throats. Adrian tried to probe. “Chloe… that day at the hospital… did you see something?” I looked at him. “See what?” Seeing my blank face, he let out a huge sigh of relief. His eyes softened. “When I get back, I’ll take you to Switzerland to see the Alps, okay?” Switzerland. For three years, I had begged him to take me. He had always refused, saying it was too far, that I was too sick, and that I would only be a burden. And I had waited for three years. I whispered, “Okay.” That night, the guest room door wasn’t fully closed. Natalie’s soft crying floated down the hallway. “Adrian, are we being too cruel to Chloe? She just had a miscarriage…” Adrian’s voice was cold and absolute. “I’m doing this to save all of us.” “If she stays here, she will eventually drive us both insane. Sending her to a private sanatorium in Switzerland is the best choice for everyone.” So that was his plan. It was never about fulfilling my dream. It wasn’t an apology. They wanted to dump me in the freezing snow of a foreign country forever, clearing the path for their beautiful love. I smiled silently. Why go through all that trouble? I walked back to my room, turned on the faucet, and filled the bathtub to the brim. As the blade sliced through my vein, the blood bloomed in the water like beautiful silk ribbons. For the first time in three years, I felt entirely free.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “441579”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My best friend was pregnant for the fifth time, and once again, she was sneaking into the hospital to get an abortion. My eyes stung with hot, angry tears. “Fiona, this is the fifth time he’s forced you to end a pregnancy, and he still won’t even show his face! Does he actually love you?” She kept her head down, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s not that he doesn’t love me, Elena. He just… can’t love me right now.” I yelled at her for being so stupid. I cursed the faceless bastard who did this to her. Beside me, my fiancé, Ethan Vance, gently squeezed my hand. “Elena, you’ve been by her side for hours. Why don’t you go downstairs and grab her something to eat?” I nodded, feeling exhausted. But when I reached the elevator, I realized I had left my phone back in her hospital room. I turned around and walked back. As I approached the door, I realized it was slightly open. Inside, Ethan was kneeling on the floor in front of Fiona. His eyes were bloodshot. “I’ve done exactly what you wanted. I’ve played the perfect partner to her for seven years.” “Fiona, how much longer do I have to pretend? Why did you have to kill our baby again?” Fiona pushed him away, sobbing hysterically. “We are already sneaking around behind her back. I can’t let her find out about this baby!” “She knows nothing. I already owe her too much!” I froze outside the door, my ears buzzing. Right at that moment, my phone vibrated in my hand with a notification. [Your marriage registration with Ethan Vance has been successfully scheduled.] I stared at the screen for a long, quiet moment. Then, I tapped cancel.

“But I love you! I can’t stand watching you go through another abortion!” Ethan’s voice was filled with raw, heartbreaking passion. Every single sob coming from the room pierced my ears like a knife. Ethan was on his knees, clutching Fiona’s hand. “I’ll get a vasectomy tomorrow. I mean it.” Fiona shook her head violently, gripping his arms. “No! You can’t!” “Elena is about to marry you! Do you want her to go her whole life without ever having a child of her own?” She looked completely torn apart by guilt. “Ethan, Elena is my best friend. Back in high school, when I was bullied so badly that I almost slit my wrists, she was the one who saved my life!” “So I beg you, don’t hurt her. And never, ever let her find out about us.” Ethan’s entire body tensed up. He slammed his fist against the wall, his damp hair falling over his bloodshot eyes. “But I can’t keep letting you destroy your own body!” Fiona’s tears flowed freely. “Then let’s end this. I care about Elena more than I care about you.” Ethan went dead silent. Looking into Fiona’s stubborn, tear-filled eyes, he finally slumped in defeat. “Fine… no vasectomy. And she will never know.” I leaned against the cold corridor wall, my hands and feet completely numb. My heart felt deader than a withered tree in winter. These two people. One was my inseparable friend since school, the sister I chose for myself. The other was the man I had loved for seven years, the one I was about to marry. Why them? The sheer absurdity of the betrayal made me laugh out loud, even as tears streamed down my face. A wave of intense nausea hit my stomach. I waited outside for a long time before finally walking back into the room. By then, they had already put on their masks. Fiona was quietly drinking her recovery shake, and Ethan was standing by the window staring outside, looking like two complete strangers. “Elena? Why are you crying?” Fiona immediately grabbed my hand, rubbing my back to comfort me. “I’m fine, really. Don’t worry.” I managed a dull nod. “I’m okay.” Ethan stepped forward and wrapped his arm around me, gently wiping my tears. “Don’t cry, babe. You don’t want puffy eyes on our wedding day, do you?” He paused, naturally changing the subject. “Anyway, she said she wants to go home to recover. I already handled her discharge papers.” He suddenly pulled out a soft blanket from somewhere. “Elena, should I carry her to the car? The doctor said she shouldn’t catch a cold. Since she’s your best friend, I don’t mind helping.” My body went completely rigid. Before I could even answer, he had already wrapped Fiona up in the blanket and scooped her up. He kept his eyes locked straight ahead, treating her like nothing more than a heavy box of cargo. And Fiona kept her hands completely off him, not touching him once. I followed them quietly from behind. This was how they had played it for years. Acting like total strangers in front of me, never leaving a single clue. I had spent so many years trying to make them get along better, thinking they were the two people I loved most in the world. Now I realized. I was the absolute clown in this joke. On the drive back, Fiona sat in the back of the SUV. I sat in the passenger seat. I stared out the window at the rain-soaked streets, watching the fallen leaves get crushed under the tires. It was funny how the rain that was supposed to nourish them was the very thing that washed them away. Just like me. Destroyed by the two people I loved most. When we reached Fiona’s apartment, I expected Ethan to park by the main gate. This complex was massive and confusing. Every time I visited, Fiona had to walk down to the gate to meet me. But as I reached for the door handle, Ethan drove straight into the underground garage like he owned the place. He pulled perfectly into a reserved parking spot. Looking through the side mirror, I saw the red painted number on the concrete pillar: Building 7, Unit 2. My grip tightened on my purse until my palms bled. My heart sank into a dark, bottomless abyss. That was Fiona’s exact building. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a confirmation that my marriage registration request had been successfully cancelled. I took a deep breath, opened the system, and completely deleted Ethan’s personal information from my profile. I would never submit it again.

Neither of them noticed my silence. Ethan turned around. “Elena, why don’t you help her up? It’s warm inside, so I don’t need to carry her anymore.” So polite. So respectful of boundaries. If only I hadn’t noticed how he walked half a step behind Fiona, his hand hovering protectively near her waist just in case she slipped. Fiona held onto my arm, completely ignoring him. Once we were inside her apartment, Fiona begged me to stay and keep her company. She started rambling about our college days, trying to sound cheerful. “Do you remember Sarah from our dorm? She’s a professional singer now!” “And our class rep! Can you believe she married the basketball captain?” I listened in silence. I didn’t say a word. I clenched my fists so hard to keep myself from ripping her fake face off. Once Fiona finally fell asleep, my mind drifted back to college. I remembered a stressful finals week. I had snuck up to the rooftop of the training building to get some quiet sleep. Just as I dozed off, a loud commotion woke me. A group of girls was shoving and screaming. I peeked out and saw a girl curled on the floor, taking their kicks without fighting back. “The instructor is coming!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. The bullies panicked and ran off, leaving the girl crying on the concrete, her hair a total mess. Then, to my horror, she stood up and climbed over the safety railing, looking down at the edge. I lunged forward and grabbed her arm. “You have to stay alive to get even! If you die, they win!” Later, I stood up as her witness and helped report the bullies. They were suspended and kicked out of the program. From that day on, we became best friends. That girl was Fiona. And now… My gaze landed on her nightstand. Sitting right there in plain sight was a men’s electric razor. It was the exact model Ethan used. The last trace of warmth in my eyes died, replaced by a cold, hard chill. I quietly pushed the bedroom door open. Ethan was in the kitchen, making hot chocolate. When he saw me, he smiled. “Good thing I make this for you all the time. I actually know what I’m doing.” I let out a cold, sarcastic laugh. “Fiona had an abortion. Why are you the one acting so busy?” The stirring spoon in his hand froze. He quickly hid the panic in his eyes. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, trying to laugh it off. “Because you’re my wife, Elena. I just want to make sure your best friend doesn’t tell you to dump me the next time we get into a fight.” Seeing that my face remained neutral, he let out a quiet sigh of relief. He didn’t dare say another word to Fiona. By the time we got back to our apartment, it was almost midnight. He held me from behind in bed. “Hey, Elena, I just got an emergency order. There’s a joint tactical drill in the Eastern District. I have to leave for a week. Right now.” I opened my eyes in the darkness. “Really?” He didn’t catch the ice in my voice. “Yeah, it sucks. I just want to stay here with you, but orders are orders.” “Then go.” Ethan let out a breath, kissed my forehead, and quickly hopped out of bed. He couldn’t wait to get out the door. I curved my lips into a bitter smile. Thirty minutes later, I got out of bed, dressed, and drove straight back to Fiona’s apartment. An emergency deployment? And he didn’t even pack a single bag? I knew her door code. I unlocked it and walked right in. I sat quietly on the living room couch, listening to the sweet, romantic whispers drifting from the bedroom. “Why are you here?!” “Go back! What if Elena finds out?!” Then came Ethan’s deep, soothing voice. “I’m not going back. You have no idea how badly I wanted to hold you in that hospital room, but I had to hold back because of her.” “Don’t worry, she thinks I’m away on a week-long tactical drill. I’m staying right here to take care of you.” I let out a soft laugh, feeling incredibly mockingly of myself. I didn’t even know when they had started. Seven years ago, my meeting with Ethan had also been an accident. I had been falsely accused of leaking classified research by my superior, facing a court-martial and a ten-year sentence. It was the darkest moment of my life. The night before the hearing, I stood at the edge of a cliff behind the base, wanting to end it all. Ethan was the one who led the search party and found me. After hearing my story, his sharp investigator instincts found the loopholes in the case. He used his family’s legal connections to clear my name. He told me, “My mother took her own life after being falsely accused. I couldn’t stand by and watch history repeat itself.” I had viewed him as my savior. But seven years later. The person who saved me, and the person I saved, had teamed up to stab me in the back.

The sound of their kissing filled the quiet apartment. I pulled out my phone and tapped “Accept” on the transfer request sent by the Southern Federal Research Institute three days ago. Right after I sent the confirmation. The bedroom door clicked open. Ethan walked out, holding Fiona and kissing her neck. “The private doctor will be here soon, I—” His voice cut off instantly. Our eyes met. Both of them froze, their eyes widening in sheer terror. I stood up slowly. My face was completely blank. “Weren’t you supposed to be in the Eastern District? What are you doing here?” Time seemed to freeze. The temperature in the room dropped to sub-zero. Fiona was the first to react. She scrambled out of Ethan’s arms, rushed over, and grabbed my hand. Her voice cracked with tears. “Elena, please let me explain. It’s not what you think. I… we…” I waited. She stuttered for a long time but couldn’t find a single lie to tell. She could only sob helplessly. “Elena, please forgive me, please…” Ethan pressed his lips together. After the initial shock, he stepped forward, pulling Fiona behind his back to shield her. His body was entirely tense. “This has nothing to do with her.” “I used my position to force her to be with me. She had no choice. Elena, if you’re angry, take it all out on me.” “Force her… no choice…” I repeated, a cold smirk touching my lips. Every single word he said was to protect his precious lover. But I was the one he had promised to marry. He didn’t care at all about how much his words would tear me apart. I closed my eyes for a second. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and clenched my fists, refusing to let them see me break. “When did it start?” Fiona couldn’t answer, she just kept crying. Ethan stood firm like a soldier defending his post, blocking her from my sight. “Five years ago.” Those three words hit my chest like a physical blow. Five years ago. That was the exact year I first introduced Ethan to Fiona. “Love at first sight, huh?” I actually laughed out loud. What a beautiful, tragic love story. And here I was, the annoying obstacle ruining their romance for five whole years. How pathetic. The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by Fiona’s quiet whimpers. After a long pause, I spoke, my voice completely devoid of any emotion. “Good for you.” “The wedding is off. We’re done. And as for you,” I looked at Fiona, “I should have let you jump off that roof.” Her spine went stiff. She let out a loud, agonizing cry. As I turned to leave, she threw herself onto the floor, grabbing my ankles. “I’m sorry, Elena! Please, I beg you, forgive me! It’s all my fault… you’re my only friend…” “Fiona!” Ethan lost his composure. He bent down, violently pulling Fiona up and dragging her into his arms, his face twisted in pain. “Stop it! I told you, this isn’t your fault!” He glared at me with sharp, hostile eyes. “If we’re talking about regrets, then maybe I should regret pulling you back from that cliff seven years ago!” I froze. I stared at him in utter disbelief, all the color draining from my face. Fiona gave him a hard shove. “Shut up! Stop talking!” Yet, her body naturally leaned right back into his chest. Ethan seemed to realize what he had just said, and a flash of regret crossed his eyes. But it was gone in a second. He thinned his lips. “Elena, it’s my fault, not hers. And about the breakup—I know you’re just speaking out of anger.” “Fiona and I are the two most important people in your life. I know you can’t afford to lose both of us.” I was so angry I almost laughed. The sheer arrogance of this man made my stomach turn. The pain of the double betrayal suddenly faded, leaving behind a cold, numbing sensation. It simply wasn’t worth it. I looked at the two of them clinging to each other, my eyes freezing over. “You really are incredibly confident.” I pulled out my phone and dialed the venue coordinator for the military chapel. Under Ethan’s stiffening gaze, I spoke clearly. “Cancel the wedding between Elena and Ethan Vance scheduled in seven days.” “Keep the deposit. I don’t care.” I hung up and turned to walk out. Ethan grabbed my arm, his face turning incredibly dark. “Are you serious?” I looked past his shoulder at Fiona, who was staying quiet but had a tiny spark of hope in her eyes. I shook his hand off with a scoff. “Yes. I’m setting you both free.”

By the time I left, the sun was rising. I drove to my parents’ house. They were shocked to see me so early. “Elena?” My mom quickly walked over. “Why are you here this early?” She pulled me to the couch and brought out five beautiful dresses, showing them to me one by one. “How about this one?” “Or maybe the blue one? It looks more elegant.” “I want to make sure I look perfect at your wedding with Ethan. I don’t want to embarrass my girl.” My dad walked out of the bedroom, wearing his freshly ironed dress uniform. “How do I look, sweetie?” Sitting on the couch, I suddenly didn’t know how to tell them. How could I say I just caught my fiancé and my best friend sleeping together? “Mom…” “I just cancelled the wedding.” The room went dead silent. They immediately rushed to my side. “Why? What happened?” “I…” “The wedding is not happening. And I’ve accepted a transfer to the Southern Federal Research Institute. I report in three days.” “I’m sorry.” My parents stared at me for a few seconds. Then, they gently patted my hands. “Whatever you decide, we are with you, Elena.” I returned to the military housing unit to pack. Ethan was waiting for me inside, looking incredibly gloomy. “Fiona was so stressed she had to be hospitalized again. Are you happy now? She’s so weak, and you just had to push her?” I replied blankly. “Yes, right. It’s all my fault. You two are completely innocent.” “You!” He gritted his teeth, his chest heaving. “Stop being so sarcastic. I already called the chapel and told them the wedding is back on.” “Elena, you don’t want all the high-ranking officers and your dad’s colleagues to see a disaster, do you? Think about your parents’ reputation.” I stopped in my tracks to the bedroom and let out a cold chuckle. “Are you threatening me with my parents?” Too bad for him, he had no idea my parents already knew everything and had absolutely no intention of showing up. But since he was so sure of himself. Why should I ruin the surprise? “Fine. Let’s keep it going. I’ll act like nothing happened.” He let out a huge sigh of relief. “Good. Now, come with me to the hospital and apologize to Fiona.” I thought I had heard him wrong. The sheer absurdity of his request made me want to laugh. “Are you insane?” “Apologize to her? She doesn’t deserve it.” I turned to walk away, but Ethan grabbed my wrist with a firm grip, dragging me down to his car and driving straight to the hospital. After a brief struggle, I stopped fighting. Honestly, I also wanted to know why she did it. A few minutes later. I stood by Fiona’s hospital bed. “Give me a reason.” She fidgeted with her fingers, biting her lip. “I was just tired of always losing to you. All these years, I was always the shadow. But he liked me, Elena. I couldn’t let him go.” “I’m sorry, Elena. I know you were good to me, but people are selfish.” I nodded. “Fair enough. I hope you get exactly what you want.” I had never cared about competing, especially not for trash. If she wanted my leftovers, she was welcome to them. It worked out perfectly for me. When I walked out, Ethan had just finished a phone call. Believing I had apologized, his mood had improved significantly. “Our wedding is next week. Don’t worry, I will still make you my wife.” A look of pure disgust flashed in my eyes. “Whatever makes you happy.” Now that the secret was out, Ethan stopped hiding. He spent the entire week at the hospital with Fiona. I was more than happy to have my space. I packed up every single thing I owned from the apartment. When the third day arrived, I boarded a flight straight to the South. And I left a massive surprise waiting for him on the wedding day. As the plane lifted into the sky. Ethan Vance and I were officially over forever.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “441573”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

1 Five years after I altered my face and faked my death, Nolan walked into my flower shop. “A bouquet of white bellflowers, please. Pack them carefully. My late wife was very particular about these things.” My hand froze in the middle of trimming a stem. Only then did it strike me, with a dull, echoing ache, that today was the anniversary of my death. White bellflowers. Their language was hopeless love. Once, he had despised these pale, muted blossoms. During our worst arguments, he had even mocked me, saying I was just like them: bland, uninteresting, and entirely lacking the vibrant warmth of Yvonne. And now, he was buying them to mourn me. As he turned to leave, a small voice called out from the back room. “Mommy, I’m hungry.” Andy toddled out, rubbing his sleepy eyes. The moment Nolan’s gaze fell on the boy’s face, his pupils shrank. The child looked almost exactly like him. The memory of Yvonne’s threats from five years ago flashed vividly in my mind. Instinctively, I pulled Andy behind my back, shielding him from Nolan’s intense stare. “The boy was born without a father, sir. He is very timid. Please don’t frighten him.” It wasn’t a lie. The Nolan I had once loved was long dead. Nolan clearly did not believe me. His eyes searched my face, burning with a desperate curiosity. I lowered my head, avoiding his gaze. Seeing my reflection in the dark glass of the counter, I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. I had a completely different face now. There was no way he could recognize me. But Andy was a different story. Ignoring my protest, Nolan knelt in front of the boy, gently taking his small hand. His voice trembled with an urgency he couldn’t hide. “How old are you, little guy?” I quickly pulled my son back, offering a polite, practiced smile to mask my rising panic. “He is the child of my late husband. My husband had terrible luck, passing away just days after the boy was born.” Nolan froze. The light in his eyes flickered, caught between devastating disappointment and lingering doubt. Before he could press further, the shop door chimed. “Nolan, what is taking you so long?” Yvonne stepped into the shop, sliding her hand intimately through Nolan’s arm. But the moment her eyes drifted to my face, her expression hardened. Unlike Nolan, Yvonne knew exactly what I looked like after the reconstructive surgery. Remembering the terrifying promises she had made to me five years ago, my heart skipped a beat. Nolan didn’t seem to notice her tension. He subtly took a half-step back, creating a polite distance between himself and me, though his eyes remained glued to Andy. “The wind is strong outside,” Nolan said softly to Yvonne. “Why didn’t you wait in the car?” “I was too impatient,” she cooed, leaning closer to him. “I wanted to accompany you to see my sister. Even though today is the anniversary of her passing, it is also the final day of our five-year pact.” She looked up at him, her eyes bright and filled with tears, but I could hear the sharp, mocking triumph beneath her sweet tone. “You promised me back then that once she was gone for five years, you would marry me. Surely you haven’t forgotten? Besides, we have already been living as husband and wife for years.” She gently pressed her hand against her stomach, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “The entire high society of Port Vista is waiting for our wedding. Not to mention, the little one in my belly cannot wait much longer.” I felt a quiet jolt of surprise. Five years had passed, and they still hadn’t married? The air in the small shop grew suffocatingly still. Only when Yvonne’s smile began to fray did Nolan finally speak, his voice thick and raspy. “I haven’t forgotten.” He pulled two hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and laid them on the counter. “My apologies. I lost my composure earlier. You may keep the change. Your bellflowers are beautiful.” He swallowed hard. “My… my late wife would have loved them.” With those words, he took the bouquet and guided Yvonne out of the shop. My eyes drifted to his hand. When we used to walk together, he would always use his thumb to gently rub the back of my hand. It was a soft, comforting habit that used to make my heart race. Nolan, do you share those same quiet habits with Yvonne now? Just as the door swung open, Yvonne paused and looked back. She cast a chilling, warning glare in my direction, her eyes lingering with venom on Andy. Once the door clicked shut, the shop returned to silence. The strength drained from my legs, and I collapsed into my chair, pulling Andy tightly against my chest. Looking at the crisp bills on the counter, a bitter, hollow smile touched my lips. I understood her warning perfectly. It was time for me to move to another city. 2 After putting Andy to bed, I sat in the dim light of the back room, my mind drifting to the events of six years ago. Back then, I was the darling of Port Vista’s high society. My parents adored me, allowing me to pursue my passion as a runway model. I lived for the bright lights of the stage, enjoying the confidence of a girl who had never known hardship. My biggest worry in those days was deciding the size of the diamond for my engagement ring, or choosing which designer would craft my wedding gown. Until the day my parents brought a thin, sun-baked girl into our living room, their eyes red with tears. “Giselle, this is your sister. She is… our biological daughter.” I had immediately welcomed her, pulling her into my massive closet and offering her my most beautiful dresses. “Yvonne, we are sisters now. What is mine is yours.” I truly felt a sense of guilt, wanting to make up for the twenty years she had spent in poverty. I took her with me everywhere, sharing everything I owned. But I never realized that my generous promise would become the curse that stripped me of my life. With Yvonne’s return, the arranged marriage between our family and Nolan’s faced a major obstacle. Nolan’s grandfather visited our estate, his tone unyielding. “The future daughter of our family must be the true, biological heiress of your estate.” My parents remained silent. They loved me, but when balanced against the survival of our massive family empire, an adopted daughter simply carried no weight. That night, I locked myself in my bedroom and cried. Suddenly, there was a soft tap against my window. Nolan was standing in the garden below, his white shirt stained with dirt, his face bright with youthful determination. “Giselle, don’t be afraid.” He climbed up to the balcony, holding me so tightly it felt as though he wanted to press me into his very bones, gently kissing the tears from my cheeks. “I don’t care about their alliances. Even if I have to forfeit my inheritance, you are the only woman I will ever marry.” The night breeze had been cold, but his promise had been incredibly warm. With my family’s wealth, Yvonne quickly shed her awkwardness, growing more beautiful by the day. And gradually, the way Nolan looked at her began to change. One afternoon, as I was showing Yvonne a new skincare routine, Nolan had watched from the doorway, offering a casual remark. “Don’t overwhelm her with all that makeup, Giselle. She looks quite charming just the way she is.” We all froze, the air turning awkward. That was only the beginning. Nolan had always been fiercely protective of his personal space. Once, when I accidentally used his coffee mug, he hadn’t gotten angry, but he never touched that mug again. Yet during a movie night with Yvonne, when she complained of being thirsty, she grabbed his soda and took a sip. He simply took the cup back and continued drinking from it without a second thought. In the past, he wouldn’t even eat fruit unless I sliced it and fed it to him myself. But during a family dinner, he quietly put on gloves, peeling shrimp and placing them in Yvonne’s bowl. Meeting my stunned gaze, he quickly looked away, offering a low explanation. “Yvonne had a difficult life before she came back. She has never even tasted fresh seafood. I am just looking out for her.” “Giselle, you have always been a generous, kind girl. Surely you aren’t going to be jealous of your own sister?” His words felt like a heavy stone, crushing whatever right I had to feel hurt. I kept forcing myself to believe him, telling myself he was only acting out of pity. Until the day I cut my modeling trip short to surprise him for his birthday. The moment I pushed open his front door, I found a trail of clothes scattered from the foyer to the bedroom. His designer shirt, which I had bought for him. Her silk slip, which she had admired during our shopping trip and he had paid for. My mind went entirely blank. I walked toward the bedroom, and every last bit of my self-delusion was shattered by the sight of their tangled bodies on the bed. 3 That afternoon, I lost my mind, smashing every object in the bedroom. But Nolan didn’t show the panic or remorse I had expected. Instead, his eyes held a flicker of irritation at being interrupted. “Giselle, just be sensible for once and try to understand my position.” “Do you have any idea how much pressure our families are putting on us? If I give Yvonne a title, all our problems disappear.” “But you are the only one I truly love. Once we are married, we can still be together just like before. Isn’t that enough?” I refused to accept his terms, causing a massive scene and taking the matter directly to my parents, foolishly believing they would stand up for me. But my father simply delivered a heavy slap across my face in front of all the household staff. “Screaming like a common street harlot over a man? Is this how we raised you?” “Yvonne is the rightful bride of his family. As her older sister, you should be stepping aside, not trying to ruin her happiness.” To teach me a lesson, Nolan and my parents agreed to lock me away in a remote villa in the suburbs. The weight of their betrayal kept me awake night after night. I began to lose my grip on reality, wondering if I really did owe Yvonne everything. I had lived her comfortable life for twenty years, so perhaps returning Nolan to her was simply balanced justice. One evening, they arrived at the villa. From my locked room, I was forced to listen to them together through the thin wall. During the night, Yvonne accidentally knocked over a scented candle. By the time I realized what was happening, the room was already filled with thick, suffocating smoke. With his clothes in disarray, Nolan cradled a terrified Yvonne in his arms and rushed out of the burning building. I was left behind in the flames. No one had realized I was still inside. By the time the firefighters pulled me out, my face was entirely destroyed, and my vocal cords were severely damaged by the smoke. When I woke up, I was lying in a private sanitarium. My head was wrapped in thick bandages, and the doctors prepared me for extensive reconstructive surgery. Before I was taken to the operating room, I heard Yvonne instructing the surgeon. She told him there was no need to preserve my original features, suggesting they make me look as plain as possible. The brilliant, beautiful Giselle was reduced to a faceless ghost. I could no longer model, and I could barely care for myself. My career, my love, and my future had been systematically erased. On the day the bandages were removed, it took me thirty minutes to find the courage to look in the mirror. Fortunately, the surgeon had been kind, refusing her cruel instructions and leaving me with a simple, ordinary face. My parents, terrified I would cause more trouble, confiscated all my electronic devices and left me with an old flip phone that could barely access basic web pages. Even then, a foolish part of me believed Nolan would search for me. We had grown up together, sharing over a decade of memories. He knew I was in that villa. Every day, despite the pain in my scarred fingers, I searched his name. Nolan. Giselle. Fire. Missing. On the first day, there was nothing. On the fifth day, only stock updates for his family’s group. On the tenth day, still nothing. Finally, after two weeks, his name appeared across every major entertainment site. The alliance of two great families. Nolan purchases a flawless pink diamond for his fiancée, Yvonne, as their wedding date approaches. The photos showed Nolan in a tailored suit, looking down at Yvonne with a tender expression, a massive diamond gleaming on her ring finger. My hand shook, and the cheap phone slipped from my fingers, shattering against the linoleum floor. The last spark of hope in my heart went out. That same month, I discovered I was pregnant. Yvonne arrived at the sanitarium the moment she received the medical report. She looked down at me with absolute victory. “Giselle, Nolan is marrying me next month.” “From the moment we told him you died in the fire to the day he agreed to marry me, it only took him two weeks.” She let out a soft laugh. “Your ten years together couldn’t even stand against my two weeks.” She tossed a document renouncing my inheritance and a falsified death certificate onto my lap. “Sign these, take your bastard child, and disappear forever. Don’t try any tricks. Making a real death certificate for you would be incredibly easy.” I felt no anger, only a hollow silence. I took the pen and signed my name. On that day, the old Giselle truly died in the ashes of that fire. 4 A torrential rain began to beat against the shop windows. Andy was sleeping deeply in my arms. Just as I laid him down on the small cot in the back room, my phone rang. It was the landlord. “I am canceling your lease. I will return your deposit, but you need to pack your things and leave tonight.” I froze. “We have a signed contract. How can you simply throw us out? It is pouring outside. Where am I supposed to take a five-year-old child?” “Someone purchased the entire building for ten times its value,” the landlord explained, his voice defensive. “They specifically demanded that you be evicted immediately. There is nothing I can do.” He hung up. A cold dread settled over me. Yvonne’s retaliation was swifter and more ruthless than I had imagined. “Andy, wake up, sweetheart. We have to go…” I walked into the back room, and the air left my lungs. The cot was empty. The window was wide open, letting the cold rain spray onto the floor. My son was gone. I bolted toward the front door, ready to scream for help, but the door swung open and Yvonne stepped inside, flanked by several heavy-set bodyguards. She tossed one of Andy’s small sneakers onto the floor, wiping her hands with a look of disgust. Panic turned into pure rage. I lunged at her, but the guards quickly pinned me to the floor, forcing my face against the cold tiles. “Where is my son? He is only a baby! If you have a problem, take it out on me!” Yvonne smiled, pulling out her phone and tapping a video. On the screen, Andy was locked in the back seat of a car, sobbing hysterically and banging his small fists against the rain-streaked window. My heart broke. Tears mingled with the dirt on my face. He was the child I had nearly died to bring into this world. I had endured the agony of a back-alley clinic, biting my lip until it bled, just to hear his first cry. I had named him Christian, hiding a small piece of his father’s name in his own, a final, secret connection to the man I used to love. And now, he was being tormented because of me. I stopped struggling, letting my body go limp under the guard’s grip. “I will leave,” I rasped, my voice raw and broken. “I promise I will never return to Port Vista. Just give me my son.” I looked up at her, offering the words I knew she wanted to hear. “Yvonne, I am a dead woman. My face is ruined, my body is out of shape. Even if you stripped me bare and threw me in front of Nolan, he wouldn’t look at me twice. I will not get in your way.” I pressed my forehead against her shoes, begging for the life of my child. Yvonne watched my humiliation with a satisfied smile. “Is that so? Then why don’t you listen to how happy we are without you?” She dialed Nolan’s number and put it on speaker. “Yvonne? Are you home yet?” Nolan’s voice sounded distracted over the line. “I am still wrapping up some business, but I will be home soon. Stay safe.” “I am fine, darling,” Yvonne cooed, her eyes locked onto me. “The baby just kicked. We both miss you so much.” Listening to their exchange, I felt nothing. My heart had been hollowed out long ago. But neither of us had noticed the sound of heavy rain over Nolan’s receiver, or the slight tremor in his voice. Once the call ended, Yvonne raised her high heel and stamped it down hard onto my hand. A sharp, blinding pain shot up my arm. I bit my lip, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a scream. “That’s better. This is exactly where you belong, Giselle. You owe me so much more than this.” Before she could say another word, the glass door was suddenly shattered.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “513577”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Simply because I exposed her gold-digging boyfriend’s true colors, my hopelessly infatuated daughter shredded our family inheritance agreement right in front of me. With her eyes burning red, she glared at me. “Mom, you just hate that he is poor. You are terrified he is going to steal your precious money, right? Fine. I will give up my inheritance. Are you finally satisfied?” My chest tightened with a sharp, blinding pain, and my entire body began to tremble. “Are you out of your mind? Giving up a multi-million-dollar legacy for a parasite? I only have one daughter, Gwen!” “Don’t you dare call him that!” Gwen spat, shielding him. “You only care about money. What do I even need all that cash for anyway? I only want his love.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “You think you don’t need money? You think Javier would still treat you like a queen if you were broke? Do you honestly believe he would crawl at your feet if you didn’t have a dime to your name?” She ignored my words entirely, her face hard with stubborn conviction. “I don’t care. Javier is the only man I will ever love. Keep your inheritance. I only want him.” She grabbed Javier’s hand, turning back to offer me one final, venomous look. “Mom, you have controlled my life since the day I was born, and I am sick of it. I don’t want your money. If you want an heir so badly, go adopt another child!” My heart seized, and I collapsed onto the sofa, clutching my chest. Yet she only watched with cold indifference, turning her back on me to walk away with him. If my niece had not rushed to the house and called an ambulance, I would have died on that living room floor. The moment I opened my eyes in the hospital room, a cold clarity washed over me. … My husband passed away when Gwen was still a toddler, leaving me to raise her on my own. I poured every ounce of my energy and resources into grooming her, preparing her to one day take over my position at the Pinnacle Group. But recently, my assistant had been reporting a string of alarming updates. Gwen’s performance at the company had plummeted. She was arriving late, leaving early, missing critical client meetings, and even embezzling corporate resources. All of this was to spend her days keeping a jobless, shiftless man company. The unrest within the executive board was reaching a boiling point. Unable to watch her ruin her future, I called Gwen home for a serious talk. I never expected her to march through the front door with the man in tow. “Mom, I’m marrying Javier.” The words felt like a physical blow. I stared at her in utter disbelief. “You have known this man for less than a month. This is madness!” “I am not asking for your permission, I am notifying you,” Gwen dismissed with a wave of her hand. “I don’t expect a dowry from him, but make sure my trust fund and assets are cleared for the wedding.” I knew how fiercely stubborn my daughter could be, so I turned my gaze to the young man beside her. Javier offered a practiced, greasy smile. “Ma’am, Gwen and I are genuinely in love.” “Love is worthless in the real world,” I snapped, my temper flaring. “My daughter was raised in absolute luxury. A single handbag of hers costs more than your entire wardrobe. What about you? You don’t even have a real job. The tailored suit you are wearing right now was paid for by Gwen. Last week, she bought you a luxury car. What’s next? Are you going to demand she hand over the entire company once you put a ring on her finger?” “Mom! Stop insulting him!” Gwen yelled, stepping in front of him like a shield. I stood up, my voice rising. “I am stating facts! Mark my words, the second I am in the ground, he will strip this company of our family name and leave you with nothing!” Javier immediately feigned a look of deep, wounded pride. “Ma’am, I have self-respect. You cannot insult our love just because I come from a modest background!” “If you have so much self-respect, then walk away from her. Surely you wouldn’t want to stand in the way of Gwen living a better life?” Gwen glared at me, her eyes flashing with rage. “Stop trying to tear us apart!” I softened my gaze, looking at my daughter with all the gentleness I could muster. “Gwen, you are young. I don’t blame you for making a mistake. As long as you break up with him, the inheritance is still yours.” I slid the official inheritance agreement across the table. Without even glancing at the document, Gwen grabbed it and ripped it to shreds. “Gwen! Do you have any idea what you are doing?” She stood tall, her chin tilted upward in defiance. “Of course I do. You think he is after your money, so I am removing the money from the equation. Now, are you happy?” My chest throbbed, a cold sweat breaking out across my forehead as my body began to tremble. “Are you insane? Forfeiting everything for a dog like him? You are my only child!” The moment the words left my mouth, a sharp, agonizing spasm shot through my heart. But my daughter remained unmoved. “Don’t you dare call him that! Your mind is poisoned by greed, but I don’t care about your wealth. I only want his love!” “Love?” My voice cracked, turning thin and reedy. “You think he would look at you twice if you were a nobody? What do you think he is worshiping you for? Your attitude?” 2 Javier immediately seized the opportunity to play the martyr. “Gwen, no matter what your mother says, my feelings for you will never waver.” Predictably, Gwen gripped his hand, her protective instincts flaring to life. “Javier is the only one for me. I don’t care about the company, and I don’t care about your legacy. I only want him.” She looked at me as if she were a hero standing against a tyrant. “I have survived your suffocating control for twenty years, and I am finished. If you want an heir, find someone else to inherit your empire!” With that, she spun on her heel. The stress proved too much for my weakened heart. The agony in my chest bloomed, and I collapsed onto the sofa, gasping for air. Through my blurring vision, I saw Gwen pause and look back. “Gwen… call… call 911…” I wheezed. Gwen hesitated, but Javier gently tugged at her arm. “Come on, let’s go. She is just putting on a show to make you stay.” Gwen turned away. The heavy front door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the empty house. Before darkness swallowed me entirely, my niece, Cindy, burst through the door and rushed to my side. When I finally regained consciousness, the sterile smell of a hospital room filled my nose. Cindy was sitting by my bedside, her face red and swollen from crying. “Aunt Eleanor! You’re awake! Don’t move, I will fetch the doctor right away!” I weakly reached out, grabbing her hand with what little strength I had left. “Get… get your uncle’s final will ready.” Cindy was sharp, but her eyes widened in disbelief. “Aunt Eleanor, surely it hasn’t come to that…” If Cindy had not developed the habit of checking in on me regularly, I would have been a corpse by now. If Gwen could look at her dying mother and walk away without a shred of remorse, then I could easily cut her out of my life. I spent three days in the intensive care unit. Cindy managed the doctors, handled the paperwork, and stayed by my side. My own daughter did not call once. When I opened my social media feed, I saw Gwen’s latest update. It was a beautiful photo of her and Javier watching the sunrise on a beach, posted in the early hours of the morning. The caption read: Finally free. Here’s to forever. To her, my near-death was nothing more than a ticket to freedom. Cindy was carefully spoon-feeding me warm broth. Noticing the shift in my expression, she asked quietly, “Aunt Eleanor, do you want me to reach out to Gwen?” “No. She wanted her freedom and her true love. I am going to let her have both.” I immediately authorized the bank to freeze her corporate black cards, cutting off her endless stream of allowance. A week later, I was discharged. When Cindy helped me back to my estate, I was surprised to find Gwen’s white luxury sedan parked in the driveway. Gwen was waiting in the living room. She didn’t bother asking about my health. Instead, she tossed a thick folder onto the coffee table with a sharp slap. “Mom, I need a seat on the board of directors. And Javier is going to be the new Director of Sales. Sign the paperwork.” I looked down at the document. Everything had been prepared, waiting only for my signature. When I remained silent, Gwen tapped her fingers impatiently against the table. “I am not negotiating with you, Mom. If you refuse, I will resign immediately and take my primary clients with me.” She pulled a list from her designer bag. I glanced at the names. They were the crown jewels of the Pinnacle Group, accounting for at least five million dollars in annual revenue. “These clients only deal with me. The choice is yours.” The daughter I had nurtured for two decades was blackmaling me. Javier stood behind her, wearing a sickeningly smug smile. “Ma’am, your health is fragile. You should be enjoying your retirement. Leave the heavy lifting to the younger generation. I promise I will take excellent care of the company.” Gwen sat back, confident that I would capitulate, just as she always assumed I would soften my heart. “Fine,” I said quietly. “He can have the position of Deputy Director of Sales, with a three-month probationary period.” If she had not held our primary clients hostage, I would have thrown them both out. But for now, I had to secure the company’s stability. Gwen frowned. “Deputy Director? I demanded the director position.” “The Director of Sales position is occupied. Take the deputy role or leave it,” I said, my voice cold and flat. “Fine. Deputy it is.” Gwen pushed the folder toward me. The moment my signature dried on the page, she snatched the folder back and stood up to leave. At the doorway, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “A word of advice, Mom. Don’t bother fighting me. You won’t win.” At the time, I chose to ignore her arrogance. 3 It did not take long for Gwen to start making her move. During executive board meetings, she took every opportunity to publicly oppose my proposals. She claimed my investment strategies were too high-risk or complained that the returns were too slow. Even when a project was fully prepared for a routine vote, she would actively lobby the other board members to reject it. The older directors had watched Gwen grow up and naturally assumed she would one day inherit the empire, so they chose to indulge her. Because of her petty spite, the collective efforts of hundreds of employees who had worked tirelessly for six months were reduced to nothing. I pressed my fingers to my temples, exhausted. “Are you determined to throw this entire company into chaos?” “You started this, Mom,” Gwen replied, raising her chin. “You refused to let me marry Javier, and you refuse to give him a real chance to prove himself. Even when he tried to recommend some qualified candidates for our departments, you blocked him.” I felt the pulse pounding in my temples. “Javier tried to plant his own associates into our corporate finance department on his very first day. Do you honestly believe that is standard procedure?” Worse still, Javier had been using his status as Gwen’s fiancé to rack up massive personal expenses on the corporate account, dragging our reputation through the mud. “What is wrong with that?” Gwen argued, entirely unbothered. “You have brought family members from your side into the company before.” “A qualified financial controller and a high-school dropout hired for basic maintenance are entirely different things,” I said, my voice tight. “I had no idea you could be this blind.” Gwen slammed her phone onto the table, her face flushing with anger. “Why is it acceptable when you do it, but a crime when I do? You just hate seeing me happy!” “How can you say that? Do you have any idea how much time, energy, and wealth I have poured into your future?” Gwen pointed a finger directly at my face. “I never asked for any of it! You don’t want a daughter, you want a puppet you can control! You have been a bitter widow for so long that you are simply jealous I found a man who actually loves me!” A wave of dizziness washed over me, and tears of sheer betrayal slipped down my cheeks. For the first time in my life, I saw my daughter clearly. She was completely, utterly rotten. “Get out,” I whispered, the coldness in my chest solidifying into ice. “Get out of my sight.” “Gladly,” Gwen sneered. She snatched her phone and stormed out of the boardroom, leaving me in the silence of my own heartbreak. Cindy walked into the room a moment later, holding a stack of documents. She had run straight into Gwen on her way out. “She called me a pathetic lapdog,” Cindy said quietly, quickly pouring me a glass of water and handed me my heart medication. I took the pills, looking at her with deep appreciation. “Thank you, Cindy. I am sorry you have to deal with this.” “It’s fine, Aunt Eleanor. Gwen is just stressed.” She handed me the folder. “Javier and his associates were careful, but it took my team three days to uncover the paper trail.” “This is perfect.” After reviewing the evidence, I opened the safe in my office and retrieved a sealed document. It was my late husband’s final will. According to his original wishes, upon my retirement, Gwen was set to inherit seventy percent of the group’s shares, real estate, and liquid assets, while Cindy would inherit the remaining thirty percent. However, there was a strict, legally binding clause. If Gwen were ever manipulated, coerced, or made decisions that actively compromised the financial integrity of the Pinnacle Group, her inheritance rights would be completely forfeited, and the entire estate would transfer to Cindy. Gwen was my own flesh and blood. I had spent her entire life trying to raise her to be a worthy successor. But she had failed me in the most devastating way possible, allowing a cheap swindler to manipulate her into tearing down the family business. She did not deserve this legacy. Handing the reins of the company to Cindy was the only logical choice. The girl possessed both the loyalty and the capability required to lead, and her work ethic had been flawless since the day she joined the firm. I reviewed the documents one last time to ensure there were no legal loopholes. “Schedule an emergency board meeting for next Wednesday,” I instructed Cindy. “And contact our legal counsel. I want this execution notarized immediately.” Cindy did not ask a single question. She simply nodded and went to execute the orders. Over the next few days, I focused all my efforts on preparing Cindy to take the helm, ensuring she was ready to weather the storm that was about to break. 4 On the day of the emergency board meeting, every seat in the conference room was filled. Javier had joined the meeting under the guise of Gwen’s fiancé. In the past, I would have had security escort him out, but today, I let him stay. Gwen had dressed meticulously for the occasion. The moment the board members settled into their seats, she took the initiative to speak. “Since everyone is here, I have an important announcement to make.” She looked at me, her expression cold. “Mom, you are getting older, and your health is failing. These recent hospital stays have made it clear that the pressure is too much for you.” “I have discussed this with several of our senior board members, and we agree that it is time for you to transition to an honorary advisory role. I will be taking over the daily operations of the Pinnacle Group.” She exchanged a knowing look with the faction of board members she had lobbied. I sat at the head of the table, observing everything. It seemed all of the intelligence she had inherited from me was being used to plot my downfall. By forming an alliance with those swing-vote directors, she had secured forty-seven percent of the voting rights, which she believed was enough to force my hand. When I remained silent, Javier offered a patronizing smile. “Ma’am, Gwen is only doing what is best for the legacy. You have worked hard for many years, and it is time for you to rest. Gwen and I are ready to carry this burden together.” Looking at his smug face, I found the situation almost comical. If I did not intervene, Javier would bleed this company dry within a year, and Gwen would be left holding the debt while thanking him for the privilege. The room fell silent, everyone waiting for me to explode in anger at my daughter’s betrayal. But there was no anger left in me, only an immense sense of relief. I offered a calm, polite smile. “Actually, I called this meeting to announce a few transitions of my own.” “Gwen wants to run the company, and Javier wants to join the executive team. The two of them have caused quite a stir lately.” Gwen’s smile turned triumphant, and Javier straightened his tie, sitting up taller in his chair. I continued. “I have given it a lot of thought. As Gwen’s mother, I cannot stand in the way of her personal happiness. Therefore, I officially give my blessing for Gwen and Javier to marry.” Gwen practically beamed, looking ready to embrace Javier right then and there. “However,” I added, my voice dropping to a cool, clinical register, “the company is no longer mine to give.” Gwen’s smile froze. “What do you mean by that?” I looked her dead in the eye. “Before your father passed away, he placed his shares into a conditional trust. I am merely the trustee, not the absolute owner. According to the terms of his will, I am now executing the succession protocol.” A murmur swept through the room. Gwen stared at me blankly, but Javier was quick to react. He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “If it is her father’s will, then the estate naturally goes to Gwen, right?” The desperation in his voice was palpable. He could feel his grand prize slipping through his fingers. I ignored him entirely, gesturing to the legal team. The attorney stepped forward, presenting the notarized succession documents to the board. The lawyer looked toward Cindy, who was sitting quietly in the corner of the room. “According to the legally binding terms of the trust, the entirety of the family estate and corporate holdings will be inherited by Miss Cindy.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “513578”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 On the eve of our wedding, a devastating car crash left both my fiancé and me with amnesia. When my memories finally returned and I went to find him, I found another woman already by his side. “No matter what happened between us in the past, the only woman I love now is Sienna.” Looking at the girl nestled in his arms, I froze. Not because of his betrayal, but because her every smile and gesture looked exactly like the old me. Still, I refused to let go just yet. I forced my voice to remain steady despite the tremble in my chest. “What if you regain your memories one day? What if you regret this?” He knit his brows, his gaze cold and unwavering. “Even if I remember everything, I could never marry you.” Hearing those words, a quiet wave of relief washed over me. I turned around and sent a quick text to the man I had fallen in love with during my own months of amnesia. That title you wanted? You have it. … “I did not come here to force you into taking responsibility,” I said, looking up from my phone to face him. “Actually, while my memory was gone, I fell in love with someone else, too.” He remained silent. I paused for a moment before continuing. “After the crash that day, we both fell into the river. I drifted far downstream, and everyone assumed I was dead. But he rescued me.” Barrett frowned, his skepticism written plain across his face. “Whatever compensation you want, just name it. I will do my best to satisfy you, but there is no need to make up stories.” “I am not lying. I actually just accepted his proposal.” “Really?” He eyed me with deep suspicion. “Really.” “Then when is the wedding?” I hesitated. “The date is up to me, I suppose. Probably sometime next month.” “Marriage is a good thing,” he said after a long, heavy silence. “I heard we were almost husband and wife once, but we simply were not meant to be in this life. Since that is the case, let me walk you down the aisle as your brother. I want to see you off myself.” My hand shook, nearly dropping my phone. Before his memory loss, Barrett’s possessiveness over me bordered on madness. He refused to let other men near me, hated when they spoke to me, and would grow sullen if I spoke more than ten sentences to anyone else. No one could have guessed that a memory-stripped Barrett would be generous enough to hand me over to another man. “No, that is not necessary,” I stammered. On one hand, the thought of letting Barrett walk me down the aisle terrified me. On the other hand, my actual fiancé had a possessive streak that was just as fierce. If he found out, he would absolutely lose his mind. Barrett wore an expression that said I had just confirmed his suspicions. “Beth, since you chose to marry someone else, it means we have both moved on. Or are you afraid you still have feelings for me, and you will not be able to go through with it?” I knew he was baiting me. I also knew how deeply suspicious he was by nature. Unless he saw me standing beside another man with his own eyes, he would always believe I was secretly pining for him. I let out a soft sigh. “Fine. I will have to discuss it with my fiancé first. After all, a wedding is between two people.” “Fine,” Barrett agreed, offering nothing more. When I got home, I spent hours trying to reason with Owen. He threw a massive, dramatic fit, practically weeping and threatening to jump off a bridge, but in the end, he begrudgingly agreed to let Barrett play the part of the brother. I had not expected Barrett to take the role so literally. Over the next two weeks, he sent over an endless stream of wedding supplies: bridal shoes, designer rings, and even a custom gown he had designed himself. When I saw the dress, my breath caught in my throat. It was the exact gown Barrett had designed for our original wedding. Back then, everyone laughed at him, mocking a wealthy man for hand-stitching a wedding dress thread by thread. But Barrett had ignored them all. He had held me close, kissing my temple over and over. They do not understand, Beth. This is your once-in-a-lifetime day. Every single detail must pass through my hands for me to feel at ease. I had not even had a chance to try it on before the crash. And now, years later, the dress was back in my hands. “The moment I saw this gown, I felt it would suit you perfectly, so I bought it for you,” Barrett said, pointing to the exquisitely crafted lace. “The style might be a bit dated. I hope you do not mind.” I stared at it in silence. Originally, we did not need to rush the wedding. But when Owen heard Barrett wanted to walk me down the aisle, he stubbornly moved the date up by two weeks. He had argued with fierce jealousy. You do not get it, Beth. Men know men. He might have amnesia, but he absolutely still wants you. I finally got you, and if you go back to him, I will die right in front of you. I could not argue with his dramatic logic, so I had agreed. With the tight schedule, my petite figure made it difficult to find a fitting off-the-rack dress. Looking at the gown Barrett had provided, I finally nodded. “Thank you.” “Barrett really sees you as a sister now, Beth. Do not be polite. Go try it on,” Sienna said, appearing from the hallway. I had not expected Sienna to accompany me for the fitting. Every time I looked at her, I felt a strange sense of vertigo. We looked incredibly alike. Standing side-by-side, strangers would easily mistake us for biological sisters. Before I could fully process her presence, she gently nudged me into the changing room. When I realized the laces on the back of the dress were too intricate to tie myself, Sienna offered to step in. “To be honest, Barrett and I have always felt quite guilty toward you,” she said softly, her hands working carefully behind my back. “These past few days, he has been planning your wedding venue and preparing your dowry just so you can have a grand wedding. He only wants you to be happy.” She tied the laces with gentle, steady movements. I listened in silence, but I could not shake the feeling that she sounded relieved, as if she were finally securing her own prize. But when Sienna leaned down slightly, I caught sight of her collarbone. There, resting on her skin, was a birthmark identical to mine. Not only did she look almost exactly like me, but she even had the exact same mark in the exact same place. Could all of this really be a coincidence? “All done,” Sienna said, pulling back the curtain to reveal the mirror. “Beth, you are going to be a beautiful bride.” When I stepped out in the gown, Barrett did not spare me a single glance. Instead, his eyes were locked entirely onto Sienna. “You have been running around helping with Beth’s wedding since early this morning. Are you tired?” He gently wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. Sienna smiled and shook her head. After the fitting, we went to get lunch. Throughout the meal, Barrett showered Sienna with attention, pouring her water and putting food on her plate. But the way they interacted felt far too familiar. Before eating, Sienna liked drinking iced tea. She hated cilantro in her food. Even her preference for steak was exactly medium-well. It was as if she was meticulously mimicking someone else. When we went to the restroom, I found Sienna touching up her lipstick. I could not hold it back any longer. “Are you copying the old me?” Her hand froze mid-air. I continued. “The identical birthmark, the exact same eating habits, even the way you speak. Sienna, the world is not built on coincidences like this.” Her face instantly drained of color. Her hand trembled, and the lipstick slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the tiled floor. “What… what are you talking about? I don’t understand.” She scrambled to kneel and pick it up, her hands shaking so much she could barely grasp it. I sighed, bending down to retrieve it and handing it back to her. “I saw the birthmark on your chest. It is artificial, is it not? A quick visit to a scar specialist would prove it.” Sienna took the lipstick, her shoulders shaking as tears began to stream down her face. “I’m sorry. I just… I love Barrett so much, I didn’t know what else to do.” “I heard that after his amnesia, he kept searching for a girl from his dreams. I knew that girl was you.” “For years, I watched Barrett, and I watched you. I memorized every single habit and detail of your lives.” “I’m sorry. I stole your place.” I let out a soft sigh and stood up. “I am not telling you this to break you two up. I just want you to know that if he truly loves you, he should love you for who you are. If you spend your whole life acting like a ghost of me, you will burn out, and eventually, he will see through the cracks. Just be yourself. Trust that he can love the real you.” Sienna nodded, though her expression was unreadable. But the moment I turned my back, her eyes locked onto me, cold and sharp. By the time we returned to the table, Sienna had put her mask back on. “What took you so long? Are you feeling unwell again?” Barrett asked, looking at her pale face with deep concern. He looked ready to leave the restaurant right then. Sienna shook her head with a soft smile. “I’m fine.” “You always neglect your health,” he murmured affectionately. With one hand, he placed food on her plate, while his other hand gently rubbed her stomach. Realizing I was watching, Barrett offered a polite, apologetic smile. “Sienna has poor circulation and a cold stomach, but she insists on drinking iced beverages. She gets cramps easily. Sorry about that.” Memories flooded my mind. Back when I was a reckless teenager who drank iced soda during my period and ended up curled in pain, Barrett would hold me just like this, rubbing my stomach in the exact same circular motion. I chose not to say a word. Looking at Sienna, whose hand holding her fork was trembling slightly, I smiled and shook my head. “Don’t apologize. Seeing you two so happy and in love is a beautiful thing.” The wedding day arrived quickly. Having lost both my parents when I was young, and since Barrett had insisted on walking me down the aisle, I prepared for the ceremony at the Barrett estate. That morning, the housekeepers, the butler, and the driver were all gathered. Watching me slip into the wedding gown, their eyes welled up with tears of nostalgia. “Years ago, we all hoped to see Mr. Barrett bring you home as his bride,” the old butler whispered, casting a brief, uncomfortable glance toward Sienna before looking back at me. “Who would have thought life would play out like this? Seeing him hand you over to someone else… it is a cruel twist of fate.” Sienna’s face went completely rigid. Soon, Barrett arrived. He was perfectly composed, having clearly memorized the wedding protocol. He escorted me to the bridal car, carrying me over the threshold of the house, and finally placed my hand into Owen’s. Just as our hands met, a sudden gust of wind caught my veil, lifting the sheer fabric and fully revealing my face. Barrett froze, his eyes locking onto mine. “Thank you, brother,” Owen said, his grip tightening as he noticed Barrett’s lingering hold on my other hand. “Barrett?” I called his name, and he seemed to snap out of a trance. “The dress suits you,” he said quietly, his voice slightly strained. “You and your husband make a handsome couple.” For a split second, the look in his eyes had been filled with that familiar, terrifying possessiveness. My heart leaped into my throat, thinking his memories had suddenly returned. Fortunately, for the rest of the ceremony, Barrett behaved flawlessly. He was polite, poised, and played the part of the doting elder brother to perfection. “Sweetheart, we have to serve tea to the elders soon, and I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Owen whispered in the bridal suite during a quiet moment. He was gently massaging my lower back, which was aching after standing for hours. “Do you think he will suddenly regain his memory and crash the wedding?” Owen buried his face in my neck, his voice muffled. “They told me you loved him for eighteen years. I am terrified.” I smiled, running my fingers through his messy hair. “Owen, life does not work like a drama.” “But if he does remember,” he murmured, looking up at me, “would you choose him or me?” I cupped his cheek. “I am sorry I made you feel insecure. It is my fault you even have to ask.” After a brief moment of quiet warmth, we stepped back out to greet the guests. As we walked through the hall, I noticed Sienna looking around anxiously, but I did not think much of it. Suddenly, she stepped forward, blocking our path. “Beth, let me toast to you,” she said, her smile tight and self-mocking. “Thank you for keeping my secret. If it weren’t for you, Barrett probably would have thrown me out long ago.” She drained her glass in one gulp. She was acting strange, but before I could raise my own glass, I heard a sharp, splintering sound above us. “Watch out!” Before I could react, a shadow lunged forward. Nobody expected Barrett to throw himself over me. The massive chandelier crashed down, striking his back with a heavy, sickening thud. He let out a sharp grunt of pain before collapsing onto the floor, his head striking the polished marble. The crowd erupted into chaos, swarming the scene. I instinctively tried to step forward, but Owen’s hand gripped mine tightly. Sensing his sheer terror, I squeezed his hand back to reassure him and stayed where I was. Thankfully, the medics cleared him of any immediate danger, and the wedding resumed. Finally, it was time for the tea ceremony. I walked up the steps toward the head table. Looking at Barrett, who had not spoken a single word since the accident, I knelt and held up the cup. “Brother, please have some tea.” Long seconds ticked by. Barrett did not move. My hands began to tremble under the weight of the ceramic cup. I slowly lifted my gaze, meeting his eyes. “Brother, please have some tea,” I repeated. He did not take the cup. Instead, his grip tightened around my wrist, pulling me slightly closer. His eyes were dark, burning with a cold fury as he whispered in my ear. “Have you had your fun, Beth?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “513579”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel