Category: English

I was my own greatest rival. Simply because I had too many secret identities. The A-list actress, the mysterious best-selling novelist, the cult-favorite comic artist, the top-tier voice actress, the pet influencer… I don’t know how it happened, but my “A-list Actress” persona and my “Best-selling Novelist” persona started a war on Twitter. Watching the drama spiral out of control, I logged into my author account to settle things. “Stop fighting. An author’s job is to write in peace. Stay out of the Hollywood drama, sweetie.” The next morning, my phone nearly exploded. My manager called me, sounding like she was having a mental breakdown. “Aria Thorne! Who gave you permission to publicly shade Sloane Winter?!” 01 Bad news: I am Aria Thorne. Worse news: I am also Sloane Winter. If that tweet had been posted from the Sloane Winter account, it would have meant the author was gracefully bowing out of the conflict. But because I was half-asleep and blind, I forgot to switch accounts. I posted it from the Aria Thorne account. Now, it looked like Aria Thorne—the “hollow” Hollywood star—was condescendingly telling Sloane Winter to stay in her lane. That “sweetie” at the end? It was the sarcastic cherry on top. The internet was on fire. By nightfall, #AriaThorneIsACanceledSnake was the number one trending topic. I scrolled through the comments, and it was a bloodbath. [Oh, look at her getting threatened. Just because Sloane is rumored to be entering Hollywood, Aria is scared of losing her throne? Please. Sloane is a natural beauty, an actual genius, and her books get adapted into hits. Aria is just a face and a body. She’s spiraling.] I felt the urge to scream. I never said my author persona was entering Hollywood! That was a total rumor! [“Stay in her lane”? Aria, check your own ego. You’re the one who needs to find a heart.] [I’ve always liked Aria, but this is a low blow. Why bully an author who’s just minding her business?] My manager, Monica, demanded I apologize to Sloane Winter. She even wanted me to “build a bridge” with her because she had secured me a spot on a high-stakes reality show that could fix my reputation. I agreed, sounding defeated. I went to X, copied some generic apology, and tagged the Sloane Winter account. Then, I logged into the Sloane account and replied: “No worries. All good.” I thought that would be the end of it. Instead, they hated me even more. [That’s the most insincere apology I’ve seen in 2026. Does Aria Thorne have a soul?] [Sloane only said ‘no worries’ because she’s a class act. She didn’t even use an emoji. She’s clearly still pissed, as she should be.] I tapped my screen so hard I thought it would crack. Who gave you permission to analyze my non-existent emotions?! 02 The reality show was a live-streamed event called Truth or Dare: Hollywood Edition. It was the kind of show that could either make a career or end one. When I arrived, the air was thick with tension. There were two “Mystery Guests” yet to be revealed. The producers decided to play a game: the six regular cast members had to use their personal networks to invite the mystery guests to the set. Whoever succeeded would get a “Secret Grand Prize.” I sat on the velvet sofa, planning to stay invisible. I had enough money; I was actually planning to retire from the exhausting movie star life anyway. Then, the first name flashed on the screen: Caleb Vance. Not that jerk, I thought, sinking deeper into the sofa. Caleb Vance was a billionaire tech mogul now, but we grew up in the same group home. He was two years older and spent my entire childhood teasing me. We went our separate ways as adults. When I first started acting, he invited me to join his talent agency. I told him to go to hell. The first person to speak was a rising starlet named Seraphina. She smiled sweetly at the camera. “I have Mr. Vance’s private number. I can try, but no promises.” The chat went wild. [Wait, isn’t Seraphina signed to Vance Media? Are the rumors true? The CEO and the muse?] [I heard Caleb Vance set aside a massive budget three years ago just to sign one specific girl. Seraphina signed right around then!] Among the “Caleb + Seraphina” shippers, one user named “Aria’s-Husband” was getting bullied for saying: [Caleb only wanted to sign Aria Thorne!] Seraphina dialed. The phone rang for five seconds, then he hung up on her. The room went silent. Seraphina forced a smile. “He’s a very busy man. He must be in a board meeting.” I hid a smirk. Caleb wasn’t busy. He was never busy when it came to causing trouble. Once, because he knew I was allergic to roses, he rented a helicopter to drop a thousand red roses onto my balcony. I spent two days in the ER and cursed him for an hour. Another time, he secretly planted a forest of weeds under my window because I once said I liked “natural greenery.” I only found out when the HOA fined me. The guy next to Seraphina, a B-list actor named Xander, looked at me. “Aria, you’re smiling. Do you think you can get Mr. Vance to show up?” I shook my head instantly. “No. I don’t even know him.” “Then were you laughing at Seraphina?” Xander pressed. “No,” I lied. “I just remembered a funny video of my cat.” The silence in the room was judgmental. “Aria, this is a professional show. Try to be more mature,” Xander said, playing the moral high ground. Then, Blair, another actress from my agency, chimed in. “Seraphina, why don’t you try again? Someone like Mr. Vance wouldn’t just ignore a call from someone as ‘special’ as you.” Seraphina bit her lip and dialed again. This time, he picked up. “Who is this?” Caleb’s cold, bored voice filled the studio. “It’s… it’s Seraphina, from the agency. We met last week at the gala…” “Don’t know you,” Caleb said, and the line went dead. The chat was stunned. Except for “Aria’s-Husband,” who was laughing in all caps. Suddenly, Xander grabbed a business card from the production table and shoved it at me. “Since you’re so relaxed, Aria, why don’t you give it a shot?” I froze. This idiot. I only had one phone with me. It had two SIM cards: my Aria Thorne number and my Sloane Winter number. I didn’t know if Caleb had my Aria number saved, but I couldn’t risk the Sloane number. I looked at my smartwatch. It had a standalone LTE chip I almost never used. I checked the battery: 5%. I dialed. [Wait, is she using a kid’s smartwatch?] [Watching her fail is going to be the highlight of my week.] The call went through. He picked up on the first ring. “Hello?” His voice was suddenly warm, almost playful. I pitched my voice higher, trying to sound like a generic PR rep. “Hi, Mr. Vance. I’m a guest on Truth or Dare. We’d love to have you join us.” “I know,” Caleb said. “I’m watching the stream.” “What?” “I know it’s you, Aria,” he drawled. “I’m already in the car. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” “I’m bringing a gift. And no, it’s not red roses this time…” Before he could finish, I tapped my watch and pretended it died. “Oh, no. Out of battery.” The chat exploded. [HE KNEW HER?!] [He said ‘I know it’s you, Aria’ so gently… I’m screaming.] [Seraphina’s face right now… someone call an ambulance.] 03 Before I could process the Caleb situation, the second name appeared. Sloane Winter. The studio turned into a freezer. Every eye was on me. I had just “shaded” her on X three days ago. The host introduced her with a grin. “The legendary author herself. We’ve reached out to her editor and secured her private number. Let’s see who can get her to show her face for the first time ever.” My phone buzzed in my pocket. The production team had just sent Sloane Winter’s number to everyone. My number. I looked at my phone. My agent had sold me out! The cast had to draw lots to see who would call first. I drew #1. Great. I dialed my own second number. The busy signal rang out immediately. I looked at the camera with a fake, apologetic smile. “It seems Ms. Winter is currently on another call.” The chat flipped on me instantly. [Aria is so fake. Sloane is obviously blocking her calls after that stunt she pulled.] [I bet she’s terrified Sloane will actually show up.] [“Aria’s-Husband” here: Just wait. The truth is going to hit you like a truck.] I reached into my pocket, held the power button, and slid to power off. The second person to call was Seraphina. She got a “User Busy” message. “Maybe her phone is dead?” Seraphina suggested, trying to regain some pride. “I’ll try again in two minutes.” She was trying to hog the guest spot. Blair Montgomery sneered at her. “Seraphina, if she wanted to talk to you, she would have. Don’t be desperate.” Seraphina ignored her and dialed again. This time, the phone in my pocket—which I thought I had turned off—vibrated violently. I must have hit ‘Restart’ instead of ‘Power Off’. “Oops,” I laughed nervously, pulling the phone out. “Spam call.” I declined the call right in front of the camera. Just then, Caleb Vance walked into the studio. He was wearing a casual charcoal suit, looking every bit the “Ascetic Billionaire.” But in his arms, he was carrying a massive bouquet of… dandelions and clover. The chat lost its mind. [Dandelions? Who gives weeds as a gift?] [Aria is a gold digger; she probably hates those weeds.] [Caleb Vance is a troll. I love him.] Caleb walked straight to me and handed me the “weeds.” “Long time no see,” he whispered, sitting right next to me. I glared at him. “Go away.” “Sorry,” he murmured under his breath so the mics wouldn’t catch it. The chat saw the interaction and assumed he was marking his territory. But then, the drama shifted. Someone had dug up my “Secret Burner Account.” It was an account where I ranted about my writing process. I had complained about every character I ever wrote. When I had writer’s block, I called the book “garbage.” When the heroine was captured, I called the hero “a useless wimp who can’t even fly.” The “Aria Thorne” haters were using it as proof that I was a toxic person who hated the very industry I worked in. They claimed I was mocking the actors who played those roles. The hashtag #CancelAriaThorne was gaining massive traction. The live stream was lagging because so many people were logging in to curse at me. The producers had to pause the stream for a moment to fix the servers. In the quiet of the studio, Xander turned to me with a sneer. “The mask is off, Aria. You’re a bitter, mean girl. You’re done.” Before I could speak, Caleb stood up. He looked Xander up and down. “Your name is Xander, right? You should worry about your own contract. My legal team is already looking into your ‘unprofessional conduct’ on this set.” Xander turned pale. Seraphina tried to ‘comfort’ Caleb. “Mr. Vance, you shouldn’t defend her. She even mocked you in her posts.” Caleb laughed. “She did? Good. I like it when she’s honest. I’m a bit of a masochist when it comes to her. Any problem with that?” I hit him with my elbow. “Shut up.” 04 I hated Caleb Vance. Everyone in the group home knew that. I was there before he was. Back then, I was shy and sensitive. The other kids bullied me. When Caleb arrived, he was the tallest and the meanest. He made sure no one else touched me—just so he could have the exclusive right to tease me himself. He used to call me “Goldfish” because he said I had a three-second memory when it came to his insults. I hated that name. One day, I hit him with a textbook and started crying. He sat next to me and didn’t apologize, but he stopped calling me Goldfish. He started calling me “Aria.” That was when he gave me a ring he’d woven from clover and dandelion stems. “When we grow up,” he’d said, “this will be our promise. I’ll marry you.” I threw the ring into the grass. “I’d never marry a jerk like you! When I’m famous, I’m going to have real diamonds and red roses!” We grew apart. Caleb went off to reclaim his family’s lost empire. I went off to college, realized I was deathly allergic to roses, and started my “thousand masks” journey because I was broke. I took the name Aria Thorne for the screen. I took Sloane Winter for my books. I took other names for my art and voice work. I became a success because of Caleb—not because he helped me, but because he taught me how to be tough.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421720”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When Julian Sterling was blind, I took him in. He liked to bite my ear and whisper that he was my good dog. In the dead of night, he loved to measure my body with his hands, over and over, claiming he could map out exactly what I looked like. Later, his vision was restored. It turned out he was the missing heir to the Sterling empire, and he already had a lifelong sweetheart. Before he ever saw my face, I left behind a forged death certificate and vanished without a trace. I hid for five years. I only dared to resurface when I heard he was getting married. But the moment my plane landed, I was surrounded by a wall of men in black suits at the airport. Julian held a custom-made wedding dress, his smile gentle yet terrifyingly obsessive. “Fiancée, the measurements I took five years ago aren’t accurate anymore. “Be a good girl. Let me measure you again.” 01 My manager dragged me to the door of the private VIP room, but I froze, too terrified to step inside. Because Julian Sterling, the heir to the Sterling empire, was sitting right in there. Through the crack in the heavy mahogany door, I heard someone flattering him: “Mr. Sterling, I heard that when you went missing years ago, you actually lost your sight for a while? That must have been an incredibly difficult time.” Julian let out a low, scoffing laugh. “I wouldn’t call it difficult. I had someone taking care of my every need. Honestly, life was easier then than it is now.” “That must have been your fiancée, right? Now that is true love through adversity. Congratulations, it’s wonderful to see true love win in the end…” “No.” Julian cut him off, his voice chillingly detached. “She is right here.” I jumped, my head snapping up in panic. Through the crack, I saw Julian pointing a long finger directly at the floor beneath him. “Buried right here.” Oh, right. I was “dead.” Five years ago, Julian had personally signed the paperwork confirming my death certificate. My manager, eavesdropping beside me, whispered: “That girl was so unlucky. If she hadn’t died, she’d probably be living like a queen right now…” I forced a smile. “Unlikely.” My manager disagreed. “Why are you so sure?” “If she got the heir to the Sterling empire to agree to her being his live-in caretaker, she must have had some serious tricks up her sleeve. Her seduction skills were probably top-tier!” I lowered my eyes, hiding my overwhelming guilt. Sometimes, even I couldn’t tell who seduced who the first time Julian and I slept together. Back then, because he was blind, his hearing was abnormally sharp. I merely whispered something quietly in his ear, but to him, the sound was like a bomb going off, sending a shiver straight to his core. I was incredibly naive back then, and I genuinely asked him, “What does a climax actually feel like?” While he was explaining it, he reached out to touch my heart. But his hand slipped a little too low. Instantly, the veins in his neck bulged, and he went completely stiff. Seeing him freeze up like a statue, I thought he was having a heart attack. Crying, I threw myself onto him, trying to give him CPR. He flipped us over, pinning me down, and sealed my lips with his… Just as I was lost in the memory, a waiter pushing a cart accidentally bumped into me. Instinctively, I let out a sharp “Ah!” The slightly ajar door swung wide open from the impact. Sitting in the seat facing the door, Julian slowly lifted his eyes and looked straight at me. 02 Julian and I locked eyes. In that split second, the blood in my veins turned to ice. I was so paralyzed I couldn’t even turn around to run. But the panic only lasted a few seconds. Thank God for the brutal reality of surviving the last five years; it had trained me to plaster on a flawless, fake smile in an instant. It was almost funny. Even though Julian and I had shared a bed for two years… Even though his hands had mapped every inch of my face and body more times than my own hands had… To him, I was just a ghost whose face he had never actually seen. So what if we slept together? How could a blind man recognize a face he had never looked at? Exactly as I predicted, Julian didn’t recognize me. When our wine glasses clinked later in the evening, his gaze was deep but entirely indifferent. Yet, when his eyes landed on me, a phantom shiver still ran down my spine. It felt exactly like the very first time I saw him. It was a stormy night, thunder crashing and lightning splitting the sky. My mother had just passed away in the hospital. Crying uncontrollably on my way home, I tripped and fell in a dark, narrow alleyway. Julian was slumped against the brick wall, soaked to the bone, barely clinging to life, looking utterly wretched. Under the flickering, dim streetlamp, the side of his face was covered in brutal cuts and bruises, yet he was still breathtakingly handsome. His dark eyes were bleeding, but his gaze was filled with a chilling, ruthless desolation. I was terrified. I wanted to run. But then I thought of my mother. She had been in so much agony in her hospital bed. I always wished someone, anyone, could have saved her… In the end, I dragged Julian back to my rundown, low-rent apartment and spent every penny of my meager savings to treat his wounds. At the time, I was completely ignorant. I was too poor to recognize that his shredded clothes were worth a fortune. I genuinely thought he was just another homeless, lost soul like me. I even convinced myself that my mother, watching from heaven, felt sorry for me and sent him so I wouldn’t be so devastatingly alone. I thought I finally had a family again. Someone to care for. Suddenly, my manager pinched the back of my hand. “What are you daydreaming about? Why are you smiling like that?” I snapped back to reality, the smile on my lips freezing. Seeing my reaction, my manager suddenly leaned in and whispered: “Chloe, don’t tell me you’ve got your eyes on Julian Sterling? Let me warn you, he is notoriously ruthless when it comes to women. Anyone who tries to seduce him ends up completely destroyed. “Word is his fiancée is his childhood sweetheart, the golden princess of the New York elite. They are deeply in love. “Don’t let his looks fool you. He’s way out of our league. One wrong move, and you’ll offend him permanently.” Offend him? Uh, well about that… When I finally decided to leave Julian, I tied him to a cheap, hundred-dollar mattress. And rode him ruthlessly for three straight hours. While doing it, I casually informed him that I only kept him around because I was lonely and bored. He was just a fun little toy. But now, a rich sugar daddy wanted to keep me, so I didn’t need him anymore. Julian’s veins popped, his face contorted in rage, and he roared hoarsely: “Chloe Vance, you better pray I never catch you! Because when I do, I will f*cking ride you until your voice gives out!” I’m pretty sure that in all his life as a billionaire heir, even being blind hadn’t been as humiliating as that moment. As far as offending him went, I had already crossed the point of no return. Luckily, I was legally “dead.” I guess I should thank his fiancée for that. Anyway, once the toasts were over tonight, there was zero chance Julian and I would ever cross paths again. With that comforting thought, I casually strolled out into the hotel’s garden for some fresh air. I looked up, only to see a tall, imposing silhouette standing there, a cigarette pinched between his long fingers. It was Julian. He turned his head and looked right at me. Just as my brain was frantically calculating an escape route, he suddenly called out: “Resurrect.” I jumped. Resurrect?! Did he recognize me?! 03 Fortunately, before I completely lost my mind and accidentally confessed everything… A small dog suddenly darted out from behind him and affectionately rubbed against my leg. It was the little mutt I used to have! Because I was so indecisive, I had never officially given it a name. Julian actually adopted it? And he named it “Resurrect”?! Resurrect what? …Resurrect his “dead” ex-girlfriend?! A cold shiver violently racked my body. If he ever found out I wasn’t dead, that I had played him for a fool… The consequences would be unimaginable. “Resurrect, stop it.” Julian put out his cigarette and waved the dog over. But the little dog hadn’t seen me in so long, it was practically doing backflips of joy around my ankles. “It seems my dog really likes you.” Julian’s gaze landed on my face, calm but impossibly deep. I forced myself to stay calm. I was actually grateful the dog was going crazy at my feet, giving me a perfect excuse for the blatant panic I couldn’t hide on my face. “I’m sorry. It might be because I smell like meat. Some steak juice splashed on my dress earlier. “I should get back inside. Have a good evening, Mr. Sterling.” But before I could take a single step, Julian suddenly spoke again: “Being a dog must be nice.” I froze. “…Excuse me?” “Being a dog. As long as you’re obedient, your master rewards you. There’s nothing wrong with being a good dog.” Years ago, in the heat of passion, Julian would hover over me, biting my ear, and whisper: “I am Chloe’s good dog.” My heart skyrocketed into my throat. I clenched my fists tight. “I apologize, Mr. Sterling, but I’m human. I don’t know much about dogs.” My blunt, literal response caused the atmosphere to instantly flatline. I desperately wanted an excuse to leave, but Julian suddenly threw out a chilling question: “Then, if you had a good dog, would you abandon it?” “…I would never get a dog.” “Why not?” “Because I don’t have the capacity to take on that responsibility.” I lost my mother, I lost Julian, and I lost my little mutt. I would never allow myself to have a weakness ever again. “I need to go finish the toasts. I won’t bother you any longer, Mr. Sterling.” I turned around. But the little dog lunged at me again. I was walking too fast, terrified my heels would step on it. I stumbled, losing my balance, and pitched forward. A pair of large hands reached out from behind, catching me firmly and pulling me flush against a solid chest. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Does it hurt anywhere?” My nose bumped against Julian’s chest, and his deep, frantic voice rumbled from above my head. It was exactly like the two years we spent together. His overwhelming care and concern… it gave me the heartbreaking illusion that we could actually grow old together. “Julian, why have you been out in the garden for so long?” Suddenly, a sweet, melodic female voice rang out behind us. I didn’t even need to turn around to know exactly who it was. Victoria Hastings. Julian’s childhood sweetheart. His fiancée. 04 The voice that shatters your most beautiful dreams is the one you remember the clearest. For me, that voice belonged to Victoria Hastings. I vividly remembered the day Victoria stepped into my cramped, low-rent apartment in her designer heels, looked around, and delivered her first sentence: “Julian actually slept in this literal garbage dump for two years? “He really endured all this just for our future together. Amazing.” I wasn’t normally a weak person. But looking at the glamorous, radiant Victoria, I couldn’t even force a single word of defense out of my throat. For the first time in my life, I cried bitter tears over my own crushing poverty. But thankfully, that wouldn’t happen today. Because my heart was no longer barren and destitute. I quickly shoved Julian away and stood up straight. Victoria walked over from behind him. When she saw my face, her pupils dilated in pure shock for a split second. But she recovered her flawless composure within seconds. Clearly, her acting skills were vastly superior to mine. She smiled and asked: “Hello, you must be the new singer signed to Tara’s agency, right?” “Yes.” “Then why were you hugging Julian just now?” Victoria pouted, looking at Julian playfully, her tone sickeningly sweet. “Aren’t you afraid your fiancée might get jealous?” “Fiancée.” Julian slowly lifted his eyes, repeating the word she had just said. But his dark, bottomless eyes were locked dead onto me. It looked as if molten lava was boiling violently beneath his gaze. “I was startled by the dog. Thank you for catching me, Mr. Sterling. Have a good evening.” My expression didn’t change. I delivered the line and immediately walked away. But Julian took a long stride, completely blocking my path. He pulled an elegant, wax-sealed wedding invitation from his suit jacket and handed it to me. “My wedding is next month. You will be there.” His voice was heavy, delivering an absolute command, not a request. Victoria whined playfully, “Julian, you’re so silly. The invitation is wax-sealed, and it says it can only be opened on the day of the wedding! How is anyone supposed to know the names of the bride and groom?!” I had absolutely zero interest in watching them flirt. I politely took the invitation and walked away. On the way back to my hotel room, I casually tore the invitation in half and tossed it into a trash can. I didn’t notice that on one of the torn corners, a tiny, elegant letter “C” was visible… 05 I initially thought running into Julian was just a terrifying coincidence. I put it out of my mind and focused entirely on my career. Until my manager told me that a massive, A-list director had specifically requested me to sing the opening theme song for his upcoming blockbuster. For a minor artist like me, this was like winning the lottery. But when I arrived at the studio and saw Julian sitting there, I realized it had nothing to do with luck. —He had personally requested me. My incredibly extroverted manager, Tara, pulled me over and enthusiastically greeted everyone in the room. When we reached Julian, he actually lowered his aristocratic head and spoke first: “Miss Vance, it’s been a long time.” Tara quickly laughed, “Mr. Sterling, you must be mistaken. Her last name is Davies. Her name is Chloe Davies.” My heart hammered against my ribs. Back then, after faking my death, I moved to a different state, deleted my identity, and legally changed my name to my mother’s maiden name. But my mother had chosen the name “Chloe” for me, and I couldn’t bear to change it. Besides, “Chloe” was a common enough name. Julian’s gaze seized me, his tone dangerously casual: “I suppose my memory must be failing me then. “I used to have an old friend named Chloe. Except her last name was Vance.” The more I spoke, the more likely I was to make a mistake. I decided to stay completely silent, plastering on a socially awkward, shy smile. Tara, thinking I was blowing a massive networking opportunity, secretly glared at me. I just pretended to be blind. At noon, the production staff brought in catered lunches. Fruit salad. The portion handed to me was loaded with mangoes. I am highly allergic to mangoes, a fact Julian knew better than anyone. But if I refused it now, his suspicions would turn into absolute certainty. My allergy wasn’t life-threatening—I’d just break out in hives. Popping a Claritin later would clear it right up. Compared to the apocalyptic disaster of my cover being blown, a few hives were nothing. I opened the container right in front of Julian, stabbed a large chunk of mango with my fork, and brought it to my lips. The next second, Julian actually reached out and violently snatched the fork out of my hand. He used so much force it felt like he was legitimately furious. The mango splattered onto the table. Tara was stunned. “Mr. Sterling…” Julian grabbed the entire bowl of salad from in front of me as well. I heard him instructing his assistant as he walked away: “I’ll eat this one. Get her a hot meal with rice.” Moments later, the assistant returned with a massive, luxurious multi-course meal just for me. It was from The Golden Lotus. A meal from there cost at least a thousand dollars. Tara was flabbergasted. She leaned in and whispered frantically: “Chloe, did you secretly hook up with Mr. Sterling behind my back?! Did you actually bag him??” “Tara, didn’t you just tell me last week that he was notoriously ruthless and untouchable?” “But the way he was looking at you… how do I explain this? It felt like you were the only thing he cared about. In a room full of people, he only had eyes for you.” My grip on my chopsticks tightened. He only cared about me? It seems I wasn’t the only idiot who fell for the illusion. Even a sharp, cynical businesswoman like Tara was completely fooled by it. 06 When I first brought Julian home, he was blind, and his injuries were incredibly severe. I was so broke that every piece of clothing I owned had patches on it. I genuinely considered just dropping him off at a homeless shelter. But Julian seemed to sense exactly what I was thinking. As I stood up to open the door, he reached out with his bruised, bloody hands and grabbed the hem of my shirt. “Don’t… don’t send me away…” He “looked” directly at me with his unseeing eyes. Even though they were blind, those eyes were as deep as the ocean, capable of drowning anyone who looked too closely. My heart instantly melted. I asked him where his parents or family were. He claimed he had no idea. He kept his head down, the unhealed cuts on his cheeks making him look like a giant, abandoned puppy. I figured he must have been ruthlessly discarded by someone, causing the trauma that wiped his memory. I started working three part-time jobs a day just to afford his medical treatments. Every night when I came home exhausted, Julian would wrap me in his arms and warm my freezing hands and feet. “Chloe, you work so hard. “Once my eyes are healed, I’m going to give you the most luxurious life, the most beautiful home. You’ll never have to suffer like this again. I’ll make sure you live like a queen for the rest of your life. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. I’m the reason you’re so exhausted. Just wait a little longer. I promise I will make it happen.” His arms and legs were so long they could completely envelop me in his embrace. Hearing him say those things, my heart felt like it was drowning in honey. I didn’t even notice how effortlessly and confidently he made those massive promises. Nor did I catch the fleeting flash of guilt and restraint in his eyes. “How could I possibly blame you? I have to work anyway. “Hubby, I’ve been thinking… once we save enough money, we’ll go to Boston to get your eyes checked. I heard they have the best eye hospitals in the country there… “No matter what, I’m going to get you cured so we can see the world together. “If we get the chance, maybe we’ll even have a baby! But if we can’t, that’s fine too. We’re already each other’s babies, right? “Oh! And one day, I want to buy a house that’s all ours. Not a tiny, cramped one like this. One that doesn’t leak when it rains or lose power every week…” Whenever I started rambling about these dreams, Julian would just hold me tighter and silence me with a kiss. Then he’d strip me naked, pin me down, and make love to me over and over again. That way, my mouth was only useful for moaning, and I couldn’t talk about anything else. Looking back now, maybe Julian just didn’t want to hear my pathetic little fantasies. Because to him, my ultimate “dream life” was just basic, ordinary survival. But he was a billionaire heir, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, raised in a literal palace. The “luxurious life” he envisioned was on an entirely different stratosphere than mine. In that tiny, dilapidated apartment, we were just two lonely souls clinging to each other for warmth. But the moment we stepped outside that door, we were two entirely different species, separated by an uncrossable chasm of wealth and class. 07 During a break in the recording session, Victoria showed up. The golden princess of New York, Julian’s childhood sweetheart. Everyone immediately fawned over her. Victoria handed out expensive afternoon tea to the crew, saving a box of handmade chestnut pastries specifically for Julian. “Why the sudden interest in a theme song recording? I saw you listening so intently just now.” Julian didn’t take the pastries. His tone was icy: “Because I needed to see someone very important.” The crew immediately started making “ooh” and “ahh” noises, teasing them. Victoria’s face flushed a delicate pink. Someone bold enough asked, “Mr. Sterling, is the big day officially set for next month?” Julian’s tone shifted from icy to deadly serious: “Yes. At the wedding next month, I will officially confess my love to the woman I adore.” I didn’t want to hear another word. I turned around and headed to the balcony to clear my head. That massive lunch had hit me like a brick; I was in a total carb coma. After getting some fresh air, I was about to head back inside when I heard voices near the side door. “Julian, do you really think that girl Chloe Davies sounds like her?” It was Victoria speaking. “Yes.” “But she’s been dead for five years! You were the one who told me to give her a lump sum to appease her. All I did was add a little extra, and she took the cash and vanished without a second thought. She obviously didn’t love you that much. She clearly loved the money more…” Actually, Victoria had it all wrong. I wasn’t nearly smart enough back then to realize that money was vastly more important than men. The reason I took the money and ran so quickly was due to something else entirely. First, I was completely out of my depth and so humiliated by Victoria’s insults that I just wanted the ground to swallow me whole. Second, a full two weeks before Victoria ever showed up at my door, I had accidentally caught her and Julian together. That day, the owner of the diner where I worked had an emergency, so I went home early. When I arrived, the man who was supposedly blind and suffering from amnesia was standing perfectly straight in our courtyard, holding a stunning woman in his arms. His eyes were wide open, clear, and filled with absolute adoration. When he scanned the area, his gaze turned incredibly sharp and predatory. Where was the blindness? The only one who was blind in that relationship was me. Back then, I was so pathetic and cowardly it was almost funny. Seeing them together, my heart felt like it was being ripped out of my chest. I hid in an alleyway and cried for hours. But when I finally went inside, I pretended everything was fine. I didn’t even have the guts to confront him. I was terrified of the truth. I was terrified that if I asked, Julian would just walk out the door, and I’d be utterly alone again. But later, Victoria showed up with a briefcase full of cash and threw a stack of intimate photos of her and Julian on the table. Along with… photos of them in bed together. That was the final straw. Even a pathetic loser like me had my limits! My mother always told me never to use a man who had been used by someone else. It meant he was defective. So, I angrily rode Julian for three straight hours… Then, I fully cooperated with Victoria’s fake death scheme, took the cash, and disappeared. Thinking back on it now, my only regret is— I definitely should have asked for more money. 08 A whole week passed after the photoshoot, and absolutely nothing happened. I figured Julian had been convinced by Victoria and wasn’t going to try and test me anymore. That evening, as I was packing my bags to leave for a shoot in another state, Tara was scrolling through her phone. “Oh wow. I just heard from a friend that Mr. Sterling’s dog went missing. They’ve been searching for days and still haven’t found it.” The little mutt was missing?! When I faked my death and left, I couldn’t take the dog with me. So I entrusted it to the family that owned the BBQ chicken stand at the end of the alley. I figured it could at least get some leftover meat and bones to eat there. “They said Mr. Sterling just bought a new, expensive purebred. Guess he’s giving up on the old one,” Tara added casually. Her words sent me into a full panic. It was clear I couldn’t rely on a bastard like Julian to care. I grabbed a cab in the pouring rain and rushed straight to my old, rundown neighborhood. Sure enough, the door to the old apartment was unlocked. I rushed in, closing my umbrella. “Mutt! I knew you’d be hiding here…” Click. The lights flicked on. The little dog wasn’t there. Instead, sitting at the cheap, plastic folding table was a tall, incredibly imposing figure that looked completely out of place. He was holding a lit cigarette. When he raised his eyes to look at me, his gaze was more violently red than the burning cherry. “Chloe. You’re back.” 09 It was Julian! The second I saw the little dog happily tied to the leg of his chair, I knew I had walked straight into a trap. But I still tried a pathetic, dying struggle: “…Mr. Sterling, what are you calling me?” Julian stared at me, his gaze completely unblinking: “That night at the hotel, ‘Resurrect’ was incredibly affectionate with you. He never approaches strangers. “When I gave you the wedding invitation, you tore it up and threw it in the trash. If you truly didn’t know me, you wouldn’t have done that. Attending a billionaire’s wedding is a massive networking opportunity; you should have been thrilled. “I had you brought in to record that song. The second you opened your mouth, I knew it was you. “Also, when you looked at the mangoes, you hesitated. But you deliberately tried to eat them right in front of me. “From that eight-course meal, you didn’t touch the cilantro, and you didn’t touch the mushrooms. “And above all else— “Chloe Vance. I’ve mapped every inch of your body with my hands a thousand times. Did you honestly think… I wouldn’t recognize you?” Since my cover was blown so spectacularly, I decided to drop the act. “Fine. I’m Chloe Vance. So, what do you want from me, Mr. Sterling?” “You think you can ride a man until he drops and just run away?” Julian took long, predatory strides toward me. He was radiating absolute malice. I genuinely thought he was going to hit me. After all, when I rode him that last time, I was absolutely merciless. My thighs ached so badly I couldn’t even squat for a month. I imagined he didn’t fare much better. But when Julian reached me, he raised his hand— And gently placed it on my cheek. His freezing fingertips traced my skin with excruciating softness. “So, this is what you look like. You look exactly how I imagined. “All these years, I’ve traced your face in my mind, millions of times. “You’re so beautiful.” He stared at me intently. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” I didn’t flinch. I kept my voice perfectly flat. “Are you having fun playing games, rich boy?” Julian’s hand froze. “Chloe.” He whispered my name. “Look at you. You’re back at the top of the world. Power, wealth, you have it all in the palm of your hand. So now you’re feeling nostalgic? Want to reminisce about the good old days and play out your little slum-romance fantasy again? “You want to play? Fine. Pay me, and I’ll play whatever sick game you want.” I stared directly into his eyes. Maybe my dead-serious expression finally pushed him over the edge. He glared at me, grinding his teeth: “Is money all you care about? For money, you’d even throw away your own name and your home, wouldn’t you?!” “Yes—and not just that. Back then, I took three million dollars, faked my death, deleted my identity, and vanished. Looking back on it now, I was incredibly stupid. “You are the heir to the most powerful dynasty in New York. I saved your life. Thirty million wouldn’t have been asking too much.” Julian suddenly hauled me up into his arms. He slammed his lips down onto mine, kissing me violently. With one hand, he ripped off his tie and bound my wrists together. His mouth aggressively trailed down my neck to my collarbone. I couldn’t escape, so I stopped fighting. “Want to sleep with me? Go ahead. What do I have to be afraid of? I already slept with you when you were a blind nobody. Now that you’re an untouchable billionaire, getting to sleep with you means I’m winning, doesn’t it?” My words infuriated him so much his chest heaved. He leaned over, looking like he was about to throw me onto that cheap, hundred-dollar mattress. But then he suddenly remembered something, stopped, picked me back up, and carried me out the door.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421721”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I harbored a secret crush on the boy who protected his childhood friend until he was expelled from school. Years later, when I became a top-tier talent manager, I ran into him waiting tables at a restaurant. He had long forgotten me, but I still wanted to give him a chance. I asked him, “Leo Vance, do you want to act?” He left with me. It took me three years to transform him from a waiter into the entertainment industry’s newest A-lister. And then, the childhood friend he had protected all those years ago came back looking for him. 01 Leo Vance didn’t tell me that Chloe Sterling had come looking for him. I found out because a media outlet I was close with caught a video of Leo shopping at a supermarket with a girl. I had a good relationship with the owner of this media outlet. The money I paid him every year was enough to cover the annual revenue of a mid-sized company with over a hundred employees. So, he didn’t publish it. Following the unwritten rules of our industry, he sold the video to me as a favor. I clicked open the video. The paparazzi must have been staking them out for a long time, because the Leo in the photos was fully bundled up; unless you knew him extremely well, you wouldn’t be able to recognize him. However, the girl beside him, dressed in casual clothes, was completely unmasked. Even after all this time, and despite the blurry quality, I recognized her the moment I laid eyes on her. Chloe Sterling. She and Leo were my high school classmates, and she was the childhood friend who grew up with him. During high school, Leo was the big man on campus. He was brilliant back then, never dropping out of the top ten in the grade. Of course, I consistently held the number one spot, but it was different. I spent over a dozen hours studying every day, while he belonged to the type who could easily get good grades with minimal effort. Good grades, handsome, popular—he was famous throughout the school. Naturally, Chloe, who walked to and from school with him every day, received a lot of attention too. At that time, Leo was the student all the teachers had the highest hopes for. During the final push in senior year, everyone had high expectations for him. That was until he, in order to protect Chloe from being harassed by thugs on her way home, used excessive force in self-defense, resulting in permanent disability for one of the thugs. This incident caused a massive uproar at the time, even drawing the attention of the school board. I don’t know if it went on his permanent record, but the thug’s parents were wealthy and powerful, and they refused to let it go. Chloe, who should have stepped forward to explain, never showed her face. Eventually, the school had no choice but to expel Leo. The last time I saw Leo during high school was at the bus station. His figure, dragging a suitcase, was swallowed by the crowd. He was very tall. I watched him look around at the sea of people. He probably didn’t find the person he wanted to see, so he gave a self-deprecating smile and, without looking back, boarded the bus to Los Angeles. At the time, I hid in the crowd, secretly seeing him off for the last time—though I really didn’t need to hide; Leo probably didn’t even know who I was. The next time I saw him was seven years later, at a very ordinary wrap party. When he came over carrying a bottle of ’92 Lafite, I recognized him immediately. I blurted out in astonishment, “Leo Vance?” He was also stunned, politely asking, “Do you know me?” I smiled then. I looked at him. The premature hardships of life had given his aura a calm and steady depth, but his face was still incredibly handsome. He was different from the pretty-boy idols under my management. His handsomeness had a restrained, story-like quality. Combined with his sharp eyebrows and striking eyes, a single glance was enough to captivate everyone. I didn’t tell him we were high school classmates. Before leaving, I simply handed him my business card. He took it, glanced at it, and seeing my name, showed no emotion. I knew then he had no memory of me. But I didn’t mind. I smiled at him sincerely and said, “Leo Vance, you have great potential. Any interest in joining the entertainment industry?” Three days later, I received a call from Leo. Leo had excellent natural potential, and in the entertainment industry, a good face is half the battle. Add to that the fact that I poured all the resources I had into promoting him—with the right timing, right place, and right people—Leo’s rise to stardom was a matter of course, and he became the ace artist under my management. He had always been very cooperative, saving me a lot of trouble, and never caused any incidents. Until today, when I received this video. I watched the video on my phone again, then called Leo. No one answered. I pondered for a moment, closed my phone, stood up, grabbed my car keys from the desk, and walked out. 02 I stood at the door of Leo’s house and rang the doorbell. After a long time with no answer, I waited another five minutes, then started punching in the passcode. I handled everything for Leo. I was the one who found this place for him when he made his first pot of gold. It offered strong privacy and confidentiality—more importantly, I knew the developers well, which saved him a considerable amount of money. When setting the passcode, I asked him what he wanted it to be. He seemed to have no particular preference at the time, just saying, “Whatever.” I joked, half-smiling, “Whatever? Since anything goes, I’ll set it as my birthday. That way, every time you enter the code, you’ll remember my birthday, remember to thank your benefactor, and send me a big gift on time.” He smiled too. Later, this passcode was kept until today; he never changed it. I entered my birthday, and with a “beep,” the door unlocked. I stood at the door, knocked once more. I had given Leo plenty of time. I didn’t know what might be inside, but whatever it was, after all this time, he should have cleaned it up. I walked in, very surprised to find Leo wasn’t there. Instead, a girl stood in the middle of the living room, wearing Leo’s t-shirt, her bare, pale legs showing underneath. She looked at me with panic and confusion. It was Chloe. I stood in the entryway, paused, and asked her, “Where’s Leo?” She looked at me with hesitation, asking in alarm, “Who are you?” I didn’t answer. I opened the shoe cabinet but couldn’t find my slippers. I looked up at Chloe, and sure enough, I saw my slippers on her feet. I remained silent. I have severe OCD; if someone touches my personal items, I won’t use them again. I didn’t show any emotion towards Chloe. I gave her a polite, professional smile and introduced myself: “Hello, I’m Leo’s manager, and also his girlfriend. Could you please tell me where Leo is?” Leo and I got together a year ago. As two consenting adults with mutual attraction, and considering I had always liked him, I never hid that affection from him. Leo was definitely aware of it, but neither of us ever brought it out into the open. We finally got together two years ago when he was just starting to get noticed. I went to negotiate a brand endorsement for him. During the business dinner, I drank quite a bit. I maintained a facade of effortless charm and witty banter until I signed the contract and saw the brand executives to their cars. Only then did I start throwing up. Leo took me home and stayed to take care of me. In my groggy state, I heard him sigh helplessly by my bed and say, “Harper Quinn, you work too hard.” Leo had a cold, reticent personality. That was the first time I had ever heard him use such a helpless tone, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. I was considered a legend in the industry. I started from the bottom as an assistant and worked my way up to becoming a top-tier manager at a young age. Although young, I handled people and situations flawlessly, never leaving any room for criticism. Hearing me laugh, he couldn’t help but smile too. I opened my eyes, looked at him, and joked half-seriously, “If I don’t work hard, how am I supposed to push you to the top?” He froze for a moment, then said quietly, “Harper, I’m very lucky to have met you.” That was the first time he ever thanked me. After that, we had an unspoken understanding. Maybe it was the mood of the moment, but anyway, we got together. Leo and I were both adults with normal physiological needs. We spent our days and nights together; isn’t there a saying, “Proximity favors romance”? After seven years, I finally plucked the moon I had admired in my youth. But now, looking at Chloe, whose face had instantly turned pale at my words, I thought distractedly: I finally caught the moon of my youth, but he also has his own moon. I wonder if it’s time for me, the substitute, to step down. 03 When Leo returned, I was sitting on the sofa, slowly sipping tea. Chloe stood awkwardly and pitifully by the sofa across from me. She didn’t sit down. Her face was pale, and her eyes were rimmed with red, as if I had bullied her. Leo, carrying bags in his hands, froze when he saw me. Chloe seemed to view him as her protector, immediately crying out with grievance, “Leo.” Leo ignored her. To him, he was very cold. He only asked me, “Harper, why are you here?” I looked at him. Although he didn’t pay attention to Chloe, only speaking to me, he was standing right next to her. Knowing him as well as I did, I recognized this as a subtle, protective stance. I smoothly set down my teacup, took out my phone, and pulled up the video the media had sent me to show him. He took it, glanced at it, and quickly explained, “This is a misunderstanding. She’s my sister, Chloe Sterling.” At his words, Chloe looked at him, her eyes growing even redder, clearly on the verge of tears. I smiled and asked him, “Biological sister?” He paused, explaining, “My neighbor’s sister. I haven’t seen her in a long time, she… her family had an emergency, so she came to me for help.” Chloe Sterling. On my way here, I had already looked into her background completely. After Leo was expelled and left all those years ago, she remained unaffected, took her college entrance exams normally, got into an average university, and worked a mundane office job after graduating. I knew that in Leo’s first year after his debut, she had tried to contact him. Back then, Leo was expelled because of her, and she didn’t even see him off. I don’t know what was going through Leo’s mind, but he never replied to her messages. This time, she came looking for him because her father had gotten involved in a pyramid scheme. Not only was he scammed out of a large sum of money, but he also dragged his relatives and friends down with him, leaving them penniless. Her father fled, and Chloe couldn’t stay in her hometown anymore, so she burned her bridges and came looking for Leo. Now it seems, she made the right bet. Leo hated her for abandoning him and being so callous back then, but ultimately, he couldn’t harden his heart against her. Probably because the first love of your youth is always special. To me, and to Leo, it was the same. I nodded, dispensing with nonsense, and asked him, “What are you going to do? Just let her stay here with you?” Leo glanced at Chloe, furrowing his brow slightly, as if pondering. This scene truly annoyed me. I stood up, directly making the decision for him: “I’ve already intercepted one PR crisis for you. She cannot live here with you. It’s too dangerous.” “I’ll have my assistant find an apartment for her soon and help her get settled.” Pausing, I looked into his eyes and continued, “Leo, I hope you won’t get involved in matters concerning her again.” “I’m saying this not just as your manager, but also as your girlfriend.” Only then did Chloe timidly speak up. She was quite good at playing weak. Although she wasn’t particularly pretty, her delicate demeanor easily evoked pity. She said, “Sister, you misunderstood. I… there’s nothing going on between me and Leo. When I arrived, I was starving, so Leo took me out for hotpot. I smelled like food, so I took a shower.” “But I escaped from home, I didn’t bring anything with me, so I had to wear Leo’s clothes.” She finished speaking and opened the bags Leo had just bought to show me. It seemed like an explanation as she said, “Look, Leo just went out to buy me clothes. Once I change, I’ll leave with you. Don’t worry, I absolutely won’t cause any trouble for Leo.” Saying that, she carried the clothes and walked familiarly toward Leo’s bedroom, clearly intending to change there. I’ve seen it all in the entertainment industry. Her “pick-me” act was so obvious, but I couldn’t be bothered to engage with such low-level tactics, so I just stood there waiting for her to come out. Leo stood in front of me, offering a brief explanation: “Harper, I didn’t mean to hide this from you, I just didn’t think it was necessary.” “There is absolutely nothing between me and her, you shouldn’t overthink it.” I looked up at him. Even now, I was smiling. Having been in the entertainment industry for so long, I had learned to mask all my emotions. I smiled warmly, but my words were uncompromising. I said: “Leo, you could have had someone take her to a hotel, or transferred some money to her, instead of bringing her back to your private residence, letting her shower and wear your clothes, and then parading it in front of me.” “This is the first time, so I’ll forgive you.” “I expect you to know your boundaries.” As soon as I finished speaking, Chloe walked out of the bedroom. Seeing the tense atmosphere between us, she froze, and then I saw the corners of her mouth twitch upward involuntarily. But in an instant, she suppressed her expression, walked over submissively, and said quietly, “Sister, I’m packed. We can go.” I turned to grab my car keys. As I reached the door, as if just remembering, I turned back to Leo and said, “By the way, I won’t be coming here anymore. You know about my severe OCD. Please just throw away everything I left here.” 04 After settling Chloe into a hotel, I flew to Milan on a business trip. Another artist under my management had a major runway show in Milan. I had to be there in person to ensure everything went smoothly. By the time I finished up in Milan and returned, it was already a week later. Leo came to the airport to pick me up. Only when I was back in the country did I allow myself to show my exhaustion. I rubbed my temples, and Leo glanced at me, asking, “Did everything go well?” Hearing this, I laughed and looked back at him, “Have I ever messed anything up?” He laughed too, turned the steering wheel, and said, “That’s true, there’s nothing you can’t handle.” He paused, then casually said, “By the way, you mentioned you wouldn’t be going back to that apartment, so I moved to a complex in the Financial District. I bought new replacements for all your things exactly as they were.” I gave a noncommittal “hmm,” and his voice lowered as he said, “Harper, I’m sorry.” I looked up at him, smiled, and said, “It’s fine. I forgive first offenses, but I won’t be so lenient next time.” He smiled too, saying, “There won’t be a next time. I’ll truly cherish this chance you’ve given me.” I didn’t say anything. Leo and I are both smart people. I have an easygoing personality. I don’t forcefully interfere too much with my boyfriend’s boundaries with other women because I always believe that self-awareness is something you either have or you don’t. It can’t be demanded. Things like this, you only need to point them out once. I would only point it out once. Since his debut, Leo has had his fair share of co-stars and female celebrities secretly flirting with him. He always handled it well. Adult love is brought together by fate. If his heart is with you, you don’t need to control him; if his heart isn’t with you, what’s the point of watching his every move? So I always let things be. Later, Leo gave me a brief update on his situation with Chloe, and I considered the matter closed. Until Leo and Chloe started trending. During that time, I had secured a role for Leo in a period drama. After he joined the cast, I was busy with other things, but perhaps I overworked myself, and I suddenly fell ill. The flu symptoms hit me hard and fast. I was dizzy and feverish, feeling like a mountain had collapsed on me. My colleagues sent me home and forced me to rest. I was indeed exhausted, so I turned off my phone, drew the curtains, and slept soundly for an entire day. When I woke up, it was past 8:00 PM. I turned off airplane mode and immediately felt something was wrong. Because there were many missed calls on my phone. Opening my messages, the latest one was from the company’s PR team. She said, “Harper, are you awake? Something happened, check the trending topics.” I opened Twitter, and the number one trending topic was a shocking, red “HOT”. It was Leo and Chloe. 05 The video of them grocery shopping last time was intercepted by me, but this time, the media was clearly out for blood. They didn’t even come to negotiate a price; they just released it directly. The background was the set where Leo was filming. Because it was a period drama, the background had an antique feel. The video was a bit shaky. As soon as I opened it, my heart sank because it clearly showed Leo and Chloe’s faces. This time, there was no way to deny it. In the video, Chloe was skipping and gesturing animatedly beside Leo. Although Leo didn’t show much movement or expression, you could tell he was keeping an eye on the path ahead of her. Until Chloe accidentally twisted her ankle. Leo crouched in front of her, bending down to squeeze her ankle. Chloe tried to walk a bit, then looked up at Leo. Even from a distance, you could see her pouting in grievance. I don’t know what she said, but Leo paused, then swept her up into his arms. The video abruptly ended there, followed by some candid photos of them eating late-night snacks on set. Anyway, there were plenty of scenes of the two interacting. My head started buzzing again. Although I was dizzy, my thoughts were exceptionally clear. I called the PR team. Because of my illness, my voice was hoarse. I was concise: “Respond. The photos and videos are easy to explain. Just say Chloe is a newly hired assistant. Take the opportunity to hype up Leo’s gentle, polite, and friendly attitude towards staff. Compile stories of his past interactions with staff, blast them out through influencer accounts, and get the bot army ready.” The PR team quickly went to execute the plan. I put down my phone and saw numerous probing messages from media outlets on WhatsApp. Frowning, I gave them watertight, non-committal replies. Unknowingly, two hours passed. A PR crisis is easy to handle. As long as there are no explicit photos of them kissing, you can spin black into white. At the top of my chat list were messages from Leo, as well as his missed calls. I didn’t reply. I was thinking. I tapped my finger on the screen, hovering over Leo’s profile picture, pondering how I should handle my relationship with him. Just then, I received another call. It was from the property management of Leo’s previous residence. Because Leo rarely stayed in LA, I handled the property management, utilities, and things like that for him. The person on the other end was very polite, asking me: “Ms. Quinn, your car is parked in someone else’s spot, and the owner just came back from out of town. I’m calling to ask if it’s convenient for you to come and move it.” I was stunned for a moment. But within moments, I realized what was going on. I said, “I’m sorry, I’ll be right there.” Since Chloe came over that last time, I hadn’t been back to Leo’s apartment. I went to the complex and saw the car parked in someone else’s spot. It was Leo’s car, though he hadn’t driven it in a long time. I didn’t have the keys, but looking through the windshield, I could see cute stuffed animals and decorations. It was obvious whose taste it was. He had let Chloe drive this car. I laughed, turning to the property manager beside me: “I don’t need this car anymore. Call a tow truck and have it hauled away.” Then I went upstairs to the 32nd floor. Approaching that familiar yet strange door, I entered my birthday on the keypad. After two beeps, it displayed “Incorrect Password.” I paused, then entered 0712. This was Chloe’s birthday. As for why I knew her birthday, it’s because during high school, every July 12th, Leo would go to a bakery near our homes to buy Chloe a strawberry cake. His focused gaze as he carefully selected the cake made him look incredibly handsome and devoted. At that time, I would sit behind the counter, doing practice problems while looking at his face, unable to help but think: Chloe Sterling, what a lucky girl. I don’t know if that deep-seated envy sparked my inexplicable obsession with Leo. So, when I saw him again years later, I still wanted him. The smart lock beeped and opened. I pushed the door open, but only stood in the entryway and glanced inside. It was enough. Leo had let Chloe live here. She probably wasn’t much for cleaning, so traces of her life were scattered everywhere. When Leo bought this place, because he was busy filming, I had overseen the renovations for him, little by little. I looked around and saw Leo’s jacket draped carelessly on the sofa, mixed with Chloe’s clothes. It gave off an ambiguous, cozy domestic vibe. I have a cool, easygoing personality and rarely get angry because, in my view, all problems can be solved. If there’s a solution, then useless emotions are unnecessary. But this was the first time I felt nauseous and disgusted. I can control my emotions, but I can’t control the most visceral physiological reactions. I wanted to throw up. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and waited for the discomfort to pass before I expressionlessly closed the door. Then, I booked a flight to the city where Leo was filming. 06 By the time I landed, it was already afternoon. Leo was filming. The people on set were very familiar with me and greeted me politely. I smiled and nodded, until the assistant director came over. We were old acquaintances. In the entertainment industry, resources and connections are everything. We exchanged pleasantries, and then he discreetly asked: “Harper, tell me the truth. Who is that girl trending with Leo? She’s been hanging around the set every day lately. I can tell Leo’s attitude towards her isn’t ordinary.” I smiled, deflecting vaguely, “She’s just a personal assistant.” The assistant director smiled at me, saying, “I thought so. I don’t mean to say the girl is bad, she’s just a bit shallow. I’d like to think Leo wouldn’t have such poor taste.” I smiled and followed his lead to Leo’s RV. I paused as I opened the door. An open bag of chips, half a glass of juice, and Chloe’s pink jacket draped over the back of a chair. I didn’t go in. I walked around to the other side. Leo’s own assistant was crouching on the ground, head down, playing a game. I called him in my usual warm tone, “Tommy.” He jerked his head up, saw me, and jumped. He immediately turned off his phone screen, stood up, and called out, “Harper.” I smiled and told him, “Go tell Leo to come find me after he finishes this scene. I have something to discuss with him.” He said “okay” and ran off with his phone, moving so fast it looked like he was rushing to warn him. Someone brought over a lounge chair. I was indeed a bit tired, so I lay down and dozed off for a bit. Unknowingly, I fell asleep. When I woke up, Leo was sitting next to me, and I was covered with one of his jackets. I frowned slightly, removed the jacket, pulled out a wet wipe from the side, and wiped my hands. As soon as I moved, Leo turned around. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes followed the wet wipe from his jacket, which I had tossed aside, to my hands. He paused, and I saw his face slightly change color. I didn’t speak until I had meticulously wiped my hands before looking at him. My gaze moved past his face to look behind him as I asked, “Where is Chloe?” He didn’t explain or defend himself, he just said, “Harper, I had no choice.” It was an out-of-the-blue statement, but I understood. He had no choice. Chloe was his first love, frozen in his youthful memories. She was the person he sacrificed his future to protect in high school… He couldn’t let her go, couldn’t ignore her, couldn’t harden his heart against her… Tsk, this deep devotion is truly moving. I started laughing, showing no emotion as I pulled a contract out of my bag and handed it to Leo. He took it, looked at it, and looked somewhat surprised. It was an employment contract for Chloe. I said, “The PR statement has already gone out. Since we said Chloe is your new ‘personal assistant,’ we can’t let people find out she’s not. Have her come over and sign the contract. Besides, you’re short a personal assistant anyway. Since you and Chloe are so close and know each other well, it works out perfectly.” “I’ll deduct her salary from your card. You decide how much to pay her.” Leo was stunned, probably not expecting me to be so accommodating. Seeing his expression, I laughed, polite but with just the right amount of joking to not seem overly distant. I said, “Why are you looking at me like that? What did you think I came here to do? Play the wicked witch breaking up the happy couple, or mark my territory?” He frowned, looking at me searchingly, trying to discern my true emotions from my expression and tone. If my emotions could be read that easily, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Besides, what’s the big deal? Isn’t it just my man reconnecting with his first love behind my back? There are plenty of men out there. I’ll dump him and find another one. Leo could still help me make money, so I could discard him emotionally, but his surplus value was still useful to me. No one holds a grudge against money. I told him, “Leo, we are a partnership, we’re in the same boat. Helping you solve problems is helping myself solve problems.” “The reason I personally came to bring this contract to you is just to inform you. You know I have severe OCD, right?” Leo’s face suddenly went pale. He understood. Everything in his room that Chloe had touched, I had thrown away, not to mention him. I threw those things away, and now I was throwing him away too. From now on, we would have a purely professional manager-artist relationship. I would help him handle these issues simply out of my professional duty. And a breakup, at the very least, should be done face-to-face. A rare look of bewilderment appeared on his face. Over the years, he had grown accustomed to relying on me. All he had to do was act; I handled all his other affairs. He wouldn’t have that anymore. For a split second, his expression went blank. Subconsciously, he took a step toward me and reached out, a gesture of holding onto me and begging me to stay. He said, “Harper—” Before I could even step back, an angry voice came from behind, “Harper Quinn, what are you doing—” I couldn’t help but laugh. Chloe rushed over like a mother hen protecting her chicks, opening her arms to stand in front of Leo, her face full of self-righteous indignation. Well, this is very soap opera. She stuck her neck out, glaring at me, and said, “Harper Quinn, I ran over here on my own. It has nothing to do with Leo. If you have a problem, take it out on me.” I couldn’t be bothered with her. I shifted my gaze from her face to Leo’s, saying lightly, “Have her sign the contract and send it back to the company. I’ll have Alexia and your assistant handle things from now on.” I gave him a polite nod, maintaining a final shred of dignity, and said, “I’m leaving.” 07 I handed Leo’s affairs over to Alexia. I had personally trained her. For the past year, I had rarely managed artists directly. I had transitioned from management to the corporate side. Except for a few close confidants, not many people knew I now held a 35% stake in the current talent agency. In other words, aside from the big boss, I was practically the second-in-command behind the scenes. As for me, I know when to pick things up and when to let them go. When I said I was letting Leo go, I let him go—mainly because I was too busy. I had so much to do. Romance probably didn’t even account for 5% of my life. His betrayal was to me like catching a cold; I’d sleep it off and be fine. After returning from Leo’s set, I went abroad for meetings with the boss and shareholders to report on the financials. Our company’s net profit was miles ahead of other domestic talent agencies, so after the meetings, we took a short vacation abroad. I had already delegated all my artist-related duties. From that meeting onwards, I would be dealing solely with corporate strategy. During that time, I received messages from Leo. He had probably finished filming and gone back. He sent me a photo of his home looking utterly destroyed. He asked me, “Harper, did you hire someone to smash this place up?” Oh, right. That home Leo had, the one I had poured my heart into decorating piece by piece, I had someone tear it all down. If Chloe wanted to live there, he could redecorate it himself. But that had nothing to do with me anymore. I opened the photo of the wreckage, looked at it, then let out a scoff and didn’t reply. Later, he sent me a few more messages, obviously just making small talk. They weren’t important, so I ignored them all. By the time I leisurely returned to the country, a month had passed. I’m someone who clearly separates my personal life from my professional life. The day after landing, I called all the managers for a meeting. We had worked together for a long time, and everyone knew my rhythm, so it went smoothly. However, after the meeting ended, Alexia lingered in her seat, looking hesitant to speak. I raised an eyebrow in surprise and asked, “Something wrong?” She hesitated for a moment before saying, “It’s about Leo.” I closed the file folder and adopted a listening posture. Alexia paused, then said, “Harper, I’ve dealt with the media a few times over this past month. You know about Leo and his ‘personal assistant,’ right? I don’t know if it’s coincidence or intentional, but the media keeps getting paparazzi shots of them.” “Nothing scandalous, but it’s already crossed the line of normal friendship.” Alexia started off calm, but as she spoke, her tone turned complaining, and she sighed, “Given Leo’s status, I can’t be too harsh on him. But lately, the admins of his fan clubs have been getting restless and dissatisfied. They’ve been coming to me asking what’s going on. And you know Leo and Chloe are childhood friends; the media can definitely dig that up even if we try to suppress it. We can still manage to keep a lid on it for now.” She looked miserable, “But Harper, we really can’t suppress it for much longer. Something’s going to happen sooner or later, and it won’t be a small issue.” I looked out the window, my tone neutral, “Didn’t we recently sign a batch of new artists? Bundle them with Leo and have him mentor them.” “We need to push the new artists up as quickly as possible. Leo has been the top guy for too long; he’s forgotten how he climbed up there.” Leo’s schedule was packed. The company had signed several new artists, and I had Leo bring them on screen. He took them on variety shows, live streams, and of course, when acting in TV dramas, he’d bring a few along. The new artists quickly gained public favor, though I occasionally got dragged on Twitter by his fans for “leeching off Leo’s success.” Looking at the engagement numbers, I decisively had the bot army pose as newbies in the discussion threads, humbly promoting the new artists. The next time I received a message from Leo, it was a photo of him getting an IV drip, with no text. I didn’t know if this was a show of weakness to get me to visit him, or a protest against the packed schedule the company had given him. I thought about it, then sent him a red envelope with a get-well message. Later, I saw a photo on a friend’s social media feed. People from the company had gone to visit Leo. The focus of the photo was naturally Leo, with everyone standing or sitting in chairs next to him. But only Chloe sat by his hospital bed, one hand resting on his shoulder, her face pressed close to him, looking very intimate. Like she was the lady of the house. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421722”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

At our company gala, Felix, the three-year sales champion, stood stunned under the spotlight. The prize he had just drawn left the room in shock: the boss’s wife. Panic flooded his face. He insisted it was a sick joke and shot me a desperate look. I walked on stage, patted his shoulder, and told him it was a gift I had prepared just for him. A heavy silence fell. Felix stood frozen, trembling. He begged me to stop joking, saying it would kill him. I calmly straightened his tie, feeling his racing pulse. I said I wasn’t joking. He was my best employee, and that was why I was rewarding him with my wife. Long before the gala, my wife Serena had already prepared his bonus: a villa, a Porsche, and a million in cash. When I joked if she wanted to give him the company too, she just frowned and told me to be more generous. I smiled and said nothing. 1 The suffocating silence in the room was suddenly sliced open. “Victor… Blackwood…” The sharp clatter of Serena’s stiletto heels parted the crowd like Moses parting the sea. She wore a stunning crimson evening gown, looking like a violent spark of fire burning its way straight toward the stage. “There is a limit to your twisted sense of humor!” She raised a hand, pointing a trembling finger so close to my face it almost grazed my eye. “Apologize to Felix. Apologize to me. Right now!” I lowered my gaze, landing on the emerald bracelet wrapped around her slender wrist. I had won it at a Sotheby’s auction for our anniversary last year. The piece was called Eternity. I used to believe that the love between us would live up to the name of those jewels. I thought we would grow old together. But yesterday, when I discovered the little “bonus” Serena had prepared for our top salesman behind my back, I realized that our marriage had long been shattered beyond repair in the places I couldn’t see. “I wasn’t joking.” I shifted my weight, taking a half-step back to let the spotlight fully illuminate Serena. “A luxury villa, a Porsche… I can afford to give away all of that. So why not throw in the boss’s wife?” A collective gasp rippled through the hall. Dozens of people subtly pulled out their phones. “Wait, hasn’t Mr. Blackwood always treated his wife like royalty? What’s going on…” “Is the boss actually joking, or is he just trying to put Felix in his place?” Felix took a stumbling step backward, his eyes clouded with raw, unfiltered fear. Serena’s pupils dilated. The vivid red of her dress only made the sudden, sickly pallor of her face more obvious. “Victor, have you completely lost your mind?” I chuckled softly. I reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, my voice as tender as if I were coaxing a child. “Don’t worry about the logistics. The divorce papers will be waiting on your desk right after the gala.” “From today on, you belong to him.” “And the company belongs to me.” Standing under the harsh glare of the stage lights, the last trace of color vanished from Serena’s face. When she spoke again, her voice was absolute ice. “Are you done putting on a show, Victor?” She took a step forward, the heavy thud of her heels echoing over the plush carpet. “If you don’t want to pay out the year-end bonuses, just say it. Using me as a human shield? Do you think everyone in this room is stupid?” The crowd blinked in collective realization. A murmur of agreement swept through the room, as if my dramatic stunt was genuinely just a billionaire’s cheap trick to avoid writing checks to our hardest worker. Whispers erupted into open chatter. “Yeah, Felix single-handedly brought in more than half the department’s revenue this year. Anyone else would get a massive payout.” “The boss promised performance-based bonuses for everyone. Is he backing out now?” “Using his own wife as a lottery prize is insane. He’s obviously just trying to humiliate Felix to save a buck.” I let my gaze sweep across the room. It was like dragging the dull edge of a blade over their throats. The whispers died instantly. But at that exact moment, Felix dropped to his knees with a loud thud. “Boss!” He pressed his forehead to the stage floor, the absolute picture of a broken, desperate man. “If I messed up a contract, if I offended a VIP, just tell me! I’ll take any punishment you dish out. But please, don’t make jokes about Serena!” “If you don’t want to pay my bonus, keep it. I don’t want a dime. Just please don’t humiliate me like this.” “I have elderly parents to take care of, Mr. Blackwood! I can’t afford to lose this job!” Serena immediately seized the moment, her voice ringing out loud and clear. “Listen to that, Victor. Even your employees know more about loyalty and gratitude than you do. You’re afraid of paying them? Fine. Sign over your shares. I’ll pay them out of my own pocket. From this moment on, you don’t deserve to sit in the CEO’s chair.” She spun around to face the massive crowd of employees. “Listen to me, everyone! Whoever wants to follow me, stand on this side of the room. Your year-end bonuses? I’ll double them.” The banquet hall plunged into a deathly stillness. Then came the chaotic scraping of chairs. A few junior girls from the marketing department stood up first. The Director of Operations hesitated for a fraction of a second before kicking his chair back and walking over. Even Gary, the incredibly laid-back night security guard, let out a heavy sigh, unclipped his ID badge, and gently set it on his table before crossing the floor. The crowd slowly pooled behind Serena like a rising tide. I did the math in my head. Two-thirds of the company. The remaining third consisted of the core veterans from the tech and supply chain departments. I felt a flicker of genuine warmth knowing they were standing their ground for me. I looked down and let out a soft laugh. “Serena,” I said, casually brushing a speck of imaginary dust off my tailored suit cuff. “Are you seriously trying to stage a corporate coup right now?” A cold, calculating smirk touched the corners of her lips. “Victor, you’re a greedy, penny-pinching tyrant. You have zero appreciation for the blood and sweat these people pour into your company. All you want is to bleed them dry.” “You don’t deserve to be a leader.” Thunderous applause broke out from her side of the room the second she finished. “We stand with Serena!” I leveled a freezing glare at the traitors cheering behind her. “Do you honestly believe I’ve treated you poorly? Who do you think signed the checks for the bonuses you’re already holding?” “You’re going to bite the hand that feeds you for this woman?” Felix was still trembling on his knees. Serena reached down and gripped him firmly by the wrist. “Get up.” Her tone wasn’t loud, but it carried the manufactured authority of a queen holding court. “From today on, you work for me. I always keep my promises. The villa, the Porsche, the cash bonus… you’ll get every single penny.” Focus slowly returned to Felix’s terrified eyes. He stole a quick, calculating glance at me from the corner of his eye to make sure I wasn’t going to physically stop him. Then, using Serena’s grip for leverage, he straightened his spine inch by inch. The moment he was standing tall, it was as if Serena had injected him with pure adrenaline. His voice boomed loud enough to rattle the chandeliers. “Listen up, everyone! I’ve been at Blackwood Corp for five years. I went from a street-level cold-caller to a three-time champion. And I didn’t do it on luck. I did it because Serena gave me the resources. She had my back!” “Today, the boss treated his own wife like a carnival prize to make a fool out of me. I can take the hit. But you all saw it… even his wife can’t stomach his behavior anymore.” “Who in their right mind wants to keep working for a man who goes back on his word and uses his own family as bargaining chips?” He aggressively pointed a finger at me, leaning in so close I could smell the stale wine on his breath. “I’m putting it all on the line right now. Anyone who follows Serena, step over here. She’s signing the checks tonight, and they’re doubled. Anyone who stays behind with this cheapskate can stick around and see what kind of twisted lottery game he plays with your lives next year!” It was like he had tossed a live grenade into the crowd. The team leader of Sales Division Two slammed his wine glass onto the table, shattering it, and marched over. A young girl from accounting hugged her folders to her chest, jogged halfway across the room, then stopped to bow deeply to me before joining the defectors. Even the stoic manager of the supply chain sighed, his fingers lingering on his name tag before he finally pulled it off. Serena watched her new empire rapidly expand, her red lips curving upward like a drawn blade. She raised a hand, calling for silence. The applause, the footsteps, the nervous whispers were instantly snuffed out. “Victor…” She looked at me from a place of absolute, condescending superiority, staring down like I was an animal trapped in a snare. “Do you see it now? Once people lose faith in you, you can never buy it back.” I shrugged, not even bothering to offer a verbal response. Assuming she had won my submission, she pushed her advantage, stepping right up to the very edge of the stage. The harsh lighting stretched her shadow across the floor, making it look like a spear pointed directly at my throat. “I’m giving you two choices.” “Choice one. You hand over the company seals, the corporate legal documents, and the equity transfers. Right now. If I’m in a good mood, I might leave you five percent so you can at least afford a decent tie with your annual dividends.” “Choice two…” She paused, relishing her victory. “I call an emergency shareholder meeting tomorrow morning. I initiate a special resolution and strip you of your Chairman and CEO titles.” “Oh, and while we’re at it, sign the divorce papers. I’ll make sure it explicitly states that the husband committed major marital faults. Don’t worry, I won’t let you keep a single dime.” “So, Victor. Pick one.” Down in the crowd, her newly formed army chanted in perfect, deafening unison. “Step down! Step down! Step down!” The sound vibrated so hard the crystal fixtures above us shook. I looked down, slowly and methodically unfastening my cufflinks. When I looked back up, I raised a single finger, wagging it gently in her direction. “Serena, I think you’ve fundamentally misunderstood how this works.” My gaze drifted past her, past Felix’s smug face, past the sea of traitors chanting for my head. “I built this company from the ground up with my own two hands. I’m not begging anyone to stay. I’m the one who decides who gets to stay, and only those people get a slice of my pie.” Serena’s face twisted with disgust. “You’ve lost the entire room, Victor. Are you seriously still trying to act tough?” I didn’t answer her. Instead, I smiled, reaching into my suit pocket and pulling out a sleek black USB drive. “Ladies and gentlemen, weren’t you all dying to know why I decided to give my wife away to an employee?” I casually spun the flash drive between my fingers. “Everything will make perfect sense once you watch this.” “He’s bluffing!” Serena’s face darkened as she screamed at the crowd. “Victor, if you dare project whatever fake garbage you’ve doctored onto that screen, my legal team will sue you into oblivion for defamation and slander tomorrow morning. I will see you rot in a cell.” Her followers nodded in fierce agreement. Felix stepped up beside her, his eyes rimmed red, playing the part of the tragic victim pushed to the brink. “Don’t let him fool you with that flash drive, everyone!” He bowed deeply to the audience, then spun around to point at me, his voice choking with perfectly acted emotion. “Three years ago, I accompanied Mr. Blackwood to Miami to close a massive client. At eleven at night, he called me up to deliver an urgent contract to his penthouse suite. When the door opened, a woman walked out. And it wasn’t Serena. I was so terrified of what he would do to me that I bought a red-eye flight back that very night. The next day, he slashed my entire annual commission, claiming I had ‘mishandled client relations’.” “And that’s not all. Last September, I saw him with my own eyes making out with an Instagram model in the underground parking garage. I kept my mouth shut because I was terrified of retaliation. The man is willing to use his own wife as a lottery prize tonight! Is there anything he isn’t capable of?” The moment his speech ended, a hundred camera lenses zeroed in on my face. I looked down, smiling to myself as I re-buttoned my cuff. “Felix, it’s a genuine tragedy you aren’t writing screenplays in Hollywood. You have quite the imagination… It’s just a shame every word of it is garbage.” I held up the USB drive, pointing it toward the media console at the front of the stage. “Give me three minutes. I guarantee every single one of you will look at me very differently when it’s over.” “Don’t you dare!” Serena stomped her heel so hard it sounded like the stage floor cracked. “My grandfather is on his way right now! If you play that, you’re dead!” “Your grandfather?” I raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Didn’t you tell me the old man was resting at a clinic in the Swiss Alps until next week?” She choked on her words, her face flashing between sickly green and pale white. I sneered, turning my back to her and pressing the USB drive against the port. “Stop right there!” An old, raspy, yet overwhelmingly authoritative voice echoed from the fire exit at the very back of the hall. The crowd parted as if pushed aside by an invisible force, creating a perfectly straight path. Arthur Garrison. Sixty-eight years old. The absolute patriarch and founding pillar of the Garrison Group. He leaned heavily on a blackwood cane, dressed in a sharp, slate-grey tailored suit. I paused my hand and offered the old man a brief, respectful nod. “Arthur. You’re a bit early. We’re just getting to the climax of the show.” Serena looked like a drowning woman who had just been thrown a life raft. She rushed toward him, her voice melting into sickening sweetness. “Grandpa! Why are you here? Your health…” “If I didn’t come, you two would have burned the Garrison name to ash tonight!” The old man cut her off ruthlessly. But his eyes bypassed her entirely, locking directly onto me. Or more accurately, onto the flash drive in my hand. “Victor,” he said, his voice quiet but carrying the heavy grit of a man who had survived decades of corporate warfare. “Do me a personal favor. Don’t play it.” I smiled politely. “Arthur, I’m more than happy to give you the respect you deserve. But did either of them ever show me an ounce of respect?” “If you hit play right now, you are declaring war on the entire Garrison family.” “If the Garrison family is willing to be reasonable, I’ll gladly play nice.” I met his gaze dead on. The tension in the air was so thick it was hard to breathe. Suddenly, the old man handed his cane to his massive bodyguard. He raised his empty hands and clasped them together, bowing his head slightly toward me. It wasn’t a gesture from an elder to a junior. It was an equal-to-equal show of surrender. “Victor, I know exactly what is on that drive. Better than you do.” The entire room erupted into shocked whispers. Serena’s head whipped around, her eyes wide with terror. “Grandpa?” Arthur ignored his granddaughter, keeping his eyes fixed on me. “Give me ten minutes. I will tell everyone in this room the real story. When I’m done, if you still want to play the video… I will click the mouse myself.” He paused, his voice dropping into a register of old, unhealed grief. “Half the sins on that drive… belong to me.” I stayed silent for two long seconds. Then, I pulled the drive away from the port and slipped it into my pocket. “Fine. Ten minutes. But when the time is up, if anyone tries to stop me again, I’m burning this whole place to the ground.” I waved a hand at the tech booth, signaling the spotlight to shift onto the old patriarch. Arthur Garrison walked slowly to the center of the stage, taking the microphone. His shadow stretched long across the room, looking like a crumbling mountain. Serena tried to grab his arm to support him. He shoved her away. Felix opened his mouth to speak. Arthur silenced him with a single, lethal glare. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Arthur’s raspy voice boomed over the speakers. “Ten years ago, the Garrison Group’s supply chain collapsed. We were bankrupt. I was the one who practically gift-wrapped my own granddaughter and handed her to Victor Blackwood.” “Grandpa!” Serena cried out. He raised a hand, ordering her to shut up, and continued. “I told her to secure Victor’s affections by any means necessary, to get her hands on the capital we needed to survive. The money came through. Garrison Group lived. But from day one, this marriage was nothing but a transactional farce.” “I owe Victor. The Garrison family owes Victor. Tonight, he humiliated my granddaughter by offering her up as a prize. It’s a slap in the face to the Garrison name. It’s a slap to my face.” “But to be entirely honest, I threw my own dignity away ten years ago.” In the massive hall, even the clicking of smartphone cameras had stopped. I stood in the wings, my thumb running over the smooth metal casing of the USB drive. Suddenly, it felt incredibly heavy. When the old man finished speaking, he turned to face me. His eyes were like a stagnant pool of dead water. “Your ten minutes are up, Victor. The mouse is yours. Click it or don’t. It’s up to you.” “But remember one thing.” “If you tear her down tonight, you aren’t just destroying Serena. You’re destroying the very company you personally saved ten years ago.” I looked down. I pulled the drive from my pocket and jammed it securely into the media port. The tiny blue indicator light pulsed to life. I hovered my finger over the ‘Play’ icon. “Arthur, don’t blame me for not giving you face. Blame Serena for crossing the line.” “Victor!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421691”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I have an ugly scar across my face. The older kids at the orphanage called me a monster. They tied me to an oak tree in the yard and smeared superglue directly into my scar. I didn’t dare to cry, because Mrs. Higgins, the matron, hated ugly kids who misbehaved. I wished upon every star, praying for the day my father would finally come and take me home. But when he finally did, there was already another little girl taking my place. My brother, Cole, blamed me for stealing her spot. He forced me to kneel on the floor on all fours, using my back as her personal footstool. If she so much as whispered that I was bullying her, my father wouldn’t hesitate to slap me across the face. “I should have left you to rot in that orphanage.” Later, when I was diagnosed with a terminal illness and was actually sent back to the orphanage, my father came looking for me, choking back tears. “I’m so sorry, Riley. Please, let’s go home.” But Daddy, bad kids who nobody loves don’t have a home. … “Stay down! If you make Patrika fall, I swear I’ll make you regret it!” I was kneeling on the hardwood floor right next to Patrika’s luxurious princess bed. It was the only spot in the room without a plush rug. The hard wood dug painfully into my bony knees. Cole gently held Patrika’s hands as she stepped up onto my back. “Riley is too skinny. It hurts my feet to step on her…” she complained softly. I never had enough to eat at the orphanage. I was five years old, but I was smaller and more fragile than a typical three-year-old. Patrika was entirely different. She was fiercely protected and pampered by my father and Cole, her cheeks round and rosy. Just her weight pressing down on my spine made me wobble. My bones cracked under the pressure. It hurt. But it didn’t hurt as much as being beaten by the other kids back at the orphanage. They used to take sharp pocket knives and trace the jagged edges of my ugly scar. Then they would pour superglue into the fresh cuts. They would stuff a filthy, wet rag into my mouth so no one could hear my muffled screams. Back then, I used to tell myself: It’ll be okay once Riley has a real family. They’ll definitely protect me. But the more I thought about it now, the more my chest ached. It felt just like the superglue pulling at my skin. I accidentally swayed under Patrika’s weight. Cole immediately smacked the back of my head. “Watch it!” “You already killed Mom, are you trying to break Patrika’s legs now?” “Patrika isn’t like you. She’s delicate. If she gets a single scratch, Dad will walk out of a board meeting to check on her. Know your place!” I stuttered out a frantic apology. “I’m sorry. It’s Riley’s fault.” The very first day I came home. Cole told me that when I was just learning to crawl, I accidentally knocked over a lit candle. To save me, my mother was burned alive in the ensuing house fire. And I simply vanished. He had shoved me to the ground, pointing a furious finger right in my face. “You should be dead. What right do you have to kill Mom and then just waltz back into this house?” I sat frozen on the floor. The wounds the orphanage kids had dug into my face tore open again. Tears welled up in my eyes. But I forced them back. I couldn’t cry. Mrs. Higgins always said ugly monsters like me didn’t deserve to cry. Only children who were loved had the right to shed tears. Besides, I was the murderer who killed my own mother. So if it hurt this much, it meant Mommy was angry in heaven, punishing me for being a bad kid. The butler suddenly announced from the hallway: “Young Master, Miss Patrika, Mr. George is home.” Patrika picked up the edges of her frilly dress and squealed, running out of the room to greet him. “Daddy!” Cole followed closely behind, his voice full of exasperated affection. “Slow down, Patrika, don’t trip!” The butler watched me as I stiffly tried to push myself up off the floor. A deep look of disgust flashed across his eyes. “Mr. George hates tardiness. Move faster.” I finally got my feet under me. The blinding pain in my knees made it impossible to stand up straight. As I swayed, about to fall, I reached out to grab something to steady myself. But as my hand brushed toward the butler’s sleeve, he aggressively stepped back. He watched with cold, dead eyes as I crashed heavily onto the floor. “Miss Riley, I might be the hired help, but I still have standards for cleanliness.” I didn’t fully understand what his words meant. But the look in his eyes told me exactly what I needed to know. He hated me. He thought I was filthy. I forced a dry, raspy apology out of my throat. It was a survival reflex I learned at the orphanage. As long as I apologized, the beatings wouldn’t last as long. By the time I limped my way into the grand dining room. They were already halfway through their meal. My father glared at me, his voice freezing cold. “Riley George. Why are you incapable of being on time?” 2 The last time I was late, Cole and Patrika had locked me in the basement storage room. I wasn’t found until the maids heard me scratching at the door the following evening. I missed two dinners that time. The time before that, Cole had zipped me into a large suitcase. I nearly suffocated to death, so naturally, I missed dinner then, too. This time, my knees were bruised black and blue, swollen so badly that every step felt like walking on broken glass. I really tried my best to get here quickly. I didn’t want Daddy to be angry. And I really didn’t want to be thrown away and sent back to the orphanage. “I’m sorry, Daddy. Riley just…” Before I could finish, Cole cut me off sharply. “I don’t care what your excuse is. The George family eats dinner exactly on time. Do you understand?” I froze for a second. Cole didn’t want Daddy to know about the games he liked to play with me. I didn’t say another word and quietly climbed into my chair. The plates in front of me were piled high with expensive seafood. I had eaten a single shrimp once at the orphanage. Immediately after, my entire body broke out in angry, red hives. One of the teachers there told me I had a severe seafood allergy. She said if it got bad enough, I would go to heaven. Seeing that I hadn’t picked up my fork, Patrika’s eyes filled with tears. “Riley, are you refusing to eat because you hate me?” “I know… I know you feel like I stole your place… I can leave.” I didn’t mean that at all! I opened my mouth to explain, but my father’s icy words stabbed straight into my chest. “Riley. If you aren’t going to eat, get out of my sight!” He pulled Patrika onto his lap, comforting her while handing her a stack of brightly colored gift boxes I had never seen before. “This is your home, sweetheart. Nobody is making you leave.” “You are my daughter. Don’t cry.” His gentle, coaxing tone was exactly what I had always dreamed of hearing. But the girl in his arms wasn’t me. My heart felt like it was being pinched by a crab’s claws. Even breathing hurt. I clutched my chest. I silently mouthed: Daddy, I think my heart is allergic to you. I didn’t know how much time had passed. The basement door clicked open. The butler handed me a small, plain bowl of porridge. “Mr. George was worried you’d be hungry. He sent this down for you.” I took the bowl numbly, instinct taking over. “Thank you.” By the time the words left my mouth, the door was already locked again. Daddy really did care about me! The warmth of the bowl radiating into my palms made my chest feel full. I had never eaten a hot meal at the orphanage. The older kids always forced me to eat their cold, discarded scraps. Since coming home, I was always locked away during dinner. I was never allowed to eat breakfast or lunch with them during the day. I wolfed down the sweet, warm porridge as fast as I could. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I felt so happy. I was so incredibly happy… I scraped the bowl completely clean. My little stomach was perfectly round and full. But it didn’t take long. Angry red hives erupted across my arms and chest. My throat began to swell rapidly. Patrika stepped into the basement, a sweet smile on her face. “I was worried you’d still be hungry, so I asked the chef to mix some scallop broth into your porridge. Was it yummy, Riley?” I couldn’t stand up straight. I collapsed onto the concrete floor. “Patrika… Riley needs to go to the hospital…” My voice was barely a raspy squeak. Cole let out a cruel, mocking laugh from behind her. “Stop being so dramatic. You need a hospital because you ate a bowl of rice?” “Since you’re full now, get up and play with Patrika.” He tied two thick ropes to a rafter in the basement. He tied one rope around my ankles, hoisting me up until I was hanging upside down, and forced me to grip the other rope tightly with both hands. “Patrika wants to go on the swings. You better hold on tight. If you drop her, you’re dead!” The hives covering my body burned and itched violently. I wanted to beg them to stop, but my throat was swelling so fast I couldn’t pull air, let alone speak. All I could manage were pathetic, muffled whimpers. “Shut up! Stop making those annoying noises.” Cole lifted Patrika up and placed her sitting directly on my stomach. The sudden, crushing weight made my sweaty hands slip against the coarse rope. The next second, Cole pushed Patrika hard from behind. My body swung wildly into the air. My vision began to blur and go black in patches. The single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling pierced my eyes. I thought I saw my mother standing in the light. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be alive. You deserve this, Riley. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mommy. The tears I had held back for so long finally broke. Patrika’s joyful giggles echoed louder than my quiet sobs. With every single cheer that left her mouth. My body and my heart splintered a little more. If people go to heaven when they die. Then a bad kid like me would definitely be going to hell. 3 I lost track of time. The butler’s voice echoed down the stairs. “Mr. George is home.” I was already completely numb to the pain. The coarse rope had shredded the skin on my palms, leaving them slick with blood. But I didn’t dare let go. I was terrified that if Patrika fell, she would get hurt. When my father walked down the stairs. Patrika viciously dug her fingernails into the back of my hand. The sudden, blinding pain caused my fingers to reflexively pop open. She instantly tumbled to the floor, scraping her knee. “Patrika! Are you okay?!” Cole rushed forward in a panic, pulling her up. My father rushed past me, immediately kneeling down to inspect her microscopic scratch. I was still hanging upside down from the rafters. Watching this beautiful, loving family moment made my eyes sting with fresh tears. “What on earth happened here?” My father barked orders at the maids to bring the first-aid kit. While carefully disinfecting her scratch, he demanded answers. Patrika stayed quiet for a moment, before finally letting out a devastated sob, acting as if she couldn’t hold back the injustice any longer. “Daddy… Riley was bullying me.” “She intentionally dropped me on the hard floor. It hurts so much…” Since the day she arrived, she had been treated like a porcelain doll. She had never known a day of pain. The moment she cried, my father’s heart broke. He finally ordered the butler to cut me down. Before my feet were even firmly on the ground, a heavy hand struck me across the face. The force sent me violently crashing back onto the floor. I stared up at him, forcing air through my constricted throat. “Daddy… I hurt too…” “I… I have hives…” But I forgot. My face was already a mangled mess of ugly, raised scar tissue. The hives were completely invisible underneath the damage. My father’s expression darkened into something truly terrifying. “Not only are you a pathological liar, but you’re a vicious bully too?” “Riley, I should have let you rot in that orphanage.” So it was true. Daddy hated me too. Cole stuck his tongue out at me, mocking me. “Serves you right. Hurry up and get sent back to the trash where you belong!” They carried Patrika upstairs, leaving me alone in the dark. I slowly pushed myself off the floor. I noticed a crushed ring of wildflowers lying near the staircase. Next to it were a few dried leaves I had pressed into bookmarks. I had spent weeks at the orphanage secretly collecting them, saving them so I could give them to my new family as gifts when I finally came home. But someone had trampled them. I carefully picked up the crushed pieces. Staring at the empty staircase where they had disappeared, the tears wouldn’t stop falling. The single, fraying thread in my mind that commanded me to be a good girl finally snapped. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I scrambled up the stairs, chasing after them. “Daddy… Cole…” “Please don’t throw Riley away… Riley knows she was bad…” I screamed until my vocal cords bled. But my voice was entirely drowned out by the roar of the luxury SUV’s engine starting in the driveway. The car accelerated toward the front gates, and no matter how fast my little legs ran, I couldn’t catch them. Inside the car, the driver glanced at the rearview mirror. “Mr. George, Miss Riley is chasing the car…” My father looked in the mirror, then looked down at Patrika, who was still whimpering softly in his arms. His voice was like ice. “Ignore her.” Drip… The sky opened up, pouring heavy, freezing rain. I wiped my face with the back of my hand. When I looked down, my hand was smeared with bright red. I wiped my face again. Blood. It was all blood. I read in a picture book once that if you lose too much blood, you die. Mommy, this must be what bad kids get. I collapsed onto the wet pavement. The crushed flowers and leaves were washed away in the muddy puddles, completely destroyed. Just like my heart. When I woke up again. I heard my father talking to a doctor outside the hospital room door. “The little girl’s condition is catastrophic.” “The anaphylactic shock nearly killed her, and her body is covered in both old, healed fractures and fresh lacerations…” “But the most critical issue is the tumor growing in her brain. She likely only has a few months left to live.” My father’s voice was hoarse, trembling slightly. “Are you telling me… my daughter has terminal cancer?” So it was true. I really was going to die soon. I slid out of the hospital bed and quietly sneaked out the back stairwell. If Daddy wanted me to go back to the orphanage. Then I would go back. Before I left, I scribbled a note on a scrap of paper. Just like the day I was born, I disappeared without making a sound. When I showed up at the orphanage gates, Mrs. Higgins sneered. “Look who’s crawling back.” “Did your rich daddy finally figure out he didn’t want you?” I gripped the hem of my thin hospital gown, the rough fabric digging into my bloody palms. “No. Riley decided she didn’t want them anymore.” The older kids erupted into vicious, mocking laughter. “Who do you think you are?” “You got thrown away because you’re a hideous freak!” I didn’t even see who threw the first punch. Fists and slaps rained down on my face and body. I should have been completely used to this. So why did it hurt so much this time? It hurt so much I couldn’t stop crying. Riley doesn’t want to be thrown away. Riley doesn’t want to die. Riley isn’t a bad kid. My face was slick with fresh blood. Just as my knees gave out, I was caught in a pair of strong, unfamiliar arms. My father, his eyes bloodshot and blazing with rage, roared at Mrs. Higgins. “Is this how you take care of my daughter?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421707”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My daughter and I were in a terrible car accident that left us with total amnesia. Instead of staying to care for us, my wife, a psychiatrist, traveled the world with her depressed ex and his son. Slowly, we started to remember. My wife noticed we had become quieter, more independent, and well behaved. She thought her life was perfectly balanced. But on Christmas Eve, she left us again to be with her ex. When she finally came home, she overheard us talking. My daughter asked, “Dad, is that woman really my mom?” She said calling her “Mom” never felt right. I agreed. I said she wasn’t my type and I didn’t know why I’d married her. My daughter smiled. “You like Ms. Finnerty, right? She blushes when she sees you.” Before I could reply, she whispered loud enough to be heard through the door, “Dad, how about we just get a new mom?” 1 For dinner, I ordered two portions of suicide hot buffalo wings. My daughter and I were eating them, sweating bullets and breathing heavy. A voice, both familiar and incredibly foreign, suddenly echoed from behind us. “You didn’t wait for me?” We both jumped in our seats. Turning around, we saw a beautiful woman standing in the doorway. Her facial features were strikingly similar to my daughter’s, but she radiated a freezing, unapproachable aura. It was Madison. My wife, and my daughter’s mother. She walked closer, her eyes locking onto our grease smeared mouths and the basket of blazing red wings. Her brows knitted together in deep disgust. “We have been married for six years. Do you not know I have a severe stomach ulcer and can’t eat spicy food?” Sophie sucked the meat off a chicken bone and blurted out, “We didn’t order this for you. This is what we wanted to eat.” Madison froze dead in her tracks. I let out an awkward chuckle, scrambling to smooth things over. “Well… I saw your Instagram story. You were at the amusement park with Nathan and his son, so I just assumed you guys would grab dinner together.” “Oliver,” she cut me off. Her tone carried her usual, heavy impatience. “I have explained this to you. Nathan’s wife abandoned them, and it triggered severe clinical depression in both him and his boy. I am a medical professional. I am simply fulfilling my duty.” “But what about you?” she continued, her voice turning ice cold. “As a husband and a father, you not only caused a massive scene at my clinic, but you also taught Sophie to be petty and jealous.” She paused, staring down at us. “Did getting into that car crash finally teach you a lesson?” A tidal wave of memories crashed into my brain. I remembered finding out that the patient she had been doing round the clock care for was actually the guy she never got over from high school. I remembered dragging our daughter to her office to catch them in the act. She had just pulled us into a corner, looking utterly exhausted. She told me she kept it a secret because she knew I would overreact. She said abandoning a suicidal patient was medical malpractice. She told me to stop acting like a lunatic in front of her traumatized patient. Her cold, clinical tone always made me and my daughter look like hysterical maniacs. So, I had paid people to hold up massive signs outside her clinic, exposing her for having an affair with a patient. Sophie had taken a megaphone to kindergarten, chasing Nathan’s son around, screaming that his dad was a homewrecker and telling the other kids not to play with him. After that, Nathan and his son stood on a rooftop, crying and threatening to jump. To force me to back down, Madison pulled strings to get me fired from my job. She made sure Sophie was completely isolated and bullied at her preschool. I had suffered a total mental breakdown and threatened her with divorce. She finally compromised, promising to keep strict professional boundaries with them. Sophie and I had believed her. We had even booked our fifth anniversary trip months in advance, counting down the days until she finally took some time off. On the day of the trip, we went to the hospital with beaming smiles to pick her up. Instead, we received a freezing phone call. “Emergency business trip. The vacation is postponed.” We were walking out of the hospital lobby, completely crushed, when we overheard two nurses chatting and laughing by the corner. “Dr. Madison is so dedicated to Mr. Nathan. She actually took a six month leave of absence just to travel with him and his son for therapeutic healing!” “I know, right? I heard she’s already in a cab escorting them to the airport.” My ears rang violently. It felt like a massive chunk of my chest had been carved out with a rusty knife. Before the tears could even fall from my eyes, I looked down and saw Sophie’s pale little face. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks as her voice trembled. “Daddy… does Mommy really not want us anymore?” That single sentence shattered whatever was left of my sanity. I grabbed Sophie’s hand and ran toward the street, desperate to chase Madison down. We needed an answer. We needed her to look us in the eye and tell us if she still wanted this family. But before we ever caught up to her, the truck hit us. When we woke up in the hospital, our world had been wiped clean. Aside from each other, we had no idea who she was. And she used our amnesia as the perfect excuse to put us on a shelf and forget about us. The memories receded. Sophie and I exchanged a highly awkward glance. Even though our memories were back, the emotions attached to them were completely dead. Honestly, we couldn’t even comprehend why our past selves had acted so psychotic over this woman. We immediately swore to her that we wouldn’t cause any more trouble. We promised we would never bother her and her patients again. Madison’s face darkened even more. It took her a long time to regain her signature, controlling composure. “I am taking them to the national park tomorrow for nature therapy. Make sure you prep three lunchboxes for us.” “Sophie, make sure you copy an extra set of your class notes for Toby.” She turned toward the hallway, tossing one last cold remark over her shoulder. “You better keep your word. Don’t do anything… humiliating again.” The bedroom door clicked shut. Sophie and I looked at each other and shrugged at the exact same time. Then, I pulled out my phone and ordered us a massive, luxury breakfast delivery for the morning. Sophie texted her teacher, politely asking for a digital backup of the class materials. As for tomorrow? We already promised Ms. Finnerty we were going hiking with her. Nobody had time to worry about Madison. 2 Early the next morning, Nathan’s soft, gentle voice drifted in from the living room. “Madison, is it really just going to be us? Maybe… maybe we should invite Oliver and Sophie? I really don’t want them getting the wrong idea. I can handle the stress, but Toby is so little. He can’t take any more bullying…” Toby chimed in with a tiny, pitiful voice. “Dad, I’m okay. Sophie didn’t… she didn’t mean to be mean to me.” Madison’s voice immediately softened into a warm hum. “Be a good boy, Toby. Don’t worry about them. If I bring them along, God knows what kind of scene they’ll cause. It would ruin your therapy.” I sighed, rolled over in bed, and drifted back into a groggy sleep. The next time I opened my eyes, a brutal force was yanking me up by the collar of my shirt. Madison literally dragged me out of the bedroom and threw me into the living room. “Look at what your precious daughter did!” she hissed, her voice vibrating with rage. “Look at what she did to Toby!” Nathan was sitting on the floor, his eyes red and teary, cradling Toby. The boy was covered in mashed potatoes and gravy, shivering like a wet stray dog. My daughter was sitting on the floor in the middle of the mess. Her small hands were fiercely guarding three insulated lunchboxes. Her face was flushed bright red, and heavy tears were hitting the hardwood floor. “I didn’t push him!” she cried out, her voice cracking. “He’s a thief! He stole the lunch my dad made for me! I just wanted to get it back!” Madison didn’t even spare her a glance. She was entirely focused on using wet wipes to carefully clean Toby’s jacket, whispering comforting words to Nathan. Only after she finished did she turn around. Her eyes held a look of profound exhaustion, as if she was watching a pathetic, predictable reality show. “Oliver. Just because I asked you to make a few extra portions of food, you hold a grudge and teach your daughter to pull these disgusting stunts?” “You promised me last night you would behave. Did you really break your word that fast?” I took a deep breath, trying to explain rationally. “I didn’t teach her anything. And I believe Sophie is telling the truth. I left your three lunchboxes on the kitchen island hours ago. Toby probably just grabbed the wrong one by mistake…” “Enough.” Madison cut me off with absolute disgust. “Drop the act. I haven’t forgotten the psycho things you two used to do. The apple clearly doesn’t fall far from the tree. You need to take a long, hard look in the mirror and figure out how to be a real father.” Every word I wanted to say died in my throat. When we had our massive fallout in the past, we agreed to compromise. If she kept her distance from Nathan, we would keep the peace. After that, Madison did come home on time. She texted me her location. But the second Nathan’s son got a tiny scrape on his knee at kindergarten, she would drop everything, rush to the school, and force Sophie to apologize. Whenever Sophie cried and tried to defend herself, Madison would just glare at me with eyes made of ice. “Oliver, does your word mean absolutely nothing? Stop throwing tantrums. Do not drain the last drop of patience and love I have for you. Because if you push me to the edge, there will be nothing left to salvage.” The worst incident was when she looked down at Sophie and said, “If my daughter is this malicious and toxic, I don’t want her.” How could a little girl handle hearing that from her own mother? She had chased Madison’s car down the street barefoot, her feet bleeding on the pavement, desperately grabbing onto Madison’s coat and taking the blame for things she never did. “Mommy! I’m sorry! It’s all my fault! I’ll never do it again! I apologized to Toby!” “Please don’t abandon me and Daddy!” Since that day, my daughter never dared to defend herself again. I let out a very quiet sigh. What was the point of explaining? In her eyes, we were already convicted criminals with a long rap sheet. I pulled Sophie tightly into my chest. My voice was low and steady. “Sophie, give them the lunchboxes.” Sophie’s body went completely rigid. A second later, she aggressively wiped her face with her sleeve. She didn’t argue. She just quietly pushed the insulated containers across the floor. Madison didn’t even look at us. She bent down, scooped Toby into her arms, placed a protective hand on Nathan’s back, and walked toward the door. SLAM. The heavy thud of the front door echoed through the house, leaving behind a suffocating, dead silence. It was just me, my daughter, and a ruined floor. I quietly grabbed some paper towels and started cleaning up the mess. Sophie crouched down next to me, helping me pick up the spilled food. After a long time, I asked her softly. “Sophie. If one day, Daddy and Mommy don’t live together anymore…” “Who do you want to stay with?” I had asked her this exact question back when the drama with Madison was at its absolute worst. Back then, she had sobbed uncontrollably. “I don’t want Mommy and Daddy to separate! I want our family to be together forever!” But right now, there was zero hesitation. She looked up at me, her big eyes clear and remarkably determined. “I’m staying with you, Dad.” “No matter what happens, I only want you.” I looked at her, and a genuine smile broke across my face. The last trace of freezing cold in my chest melted away completely. I gently ruffled her hair. “Okay.” If she was with me, I had absolutely nothing to fear. 3 Just as I tossed the last paper towel into the trash, the doorbell rang. “Oliver? Sophie? Are you guys home?” Sophie’s eyes instantly lit up. “It’s Ms. Finnerty!” She bolted down the hallway to open the door. Outside stood a beautiful young woman with soft features. She immediately bent down to catch the little girl launching into her arms. Noticing Sophie’s red, puffy eyes, Finnerty’s voice instantly melted into worry. “Sophie, what’s wrong? Were you crying?” The little girl buried her face into Finnerty’s shoulder, whining pitifully. “The lunch Daddy made for me… got taken away…” “It’s okay,” Finnerty said, gently rubbing the girl’s back, her voice incredibly soothing. “I made a fresh batch. It has all of your and your dad’s favorites.” She had a magical way with kids. Within three sentences, she had Sophie giggling through her tears. Finnerty finally looked up at me, offering an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry for dropping by unannounced, Oliver. You weren’t answering your phone, and I got a bit worried.” “Please, don’t apologize,” I said quickly. “You literally saved my and Sophie’s lives. You’re always welcome here.” Half a year ago, Finnerty was the one who pulled us out of the mangled wreckage of our car. She ran every red light to get us to the emergency room. When she found out we had memory loss and were struggling with basic cognitive functions, she practically took over. She brought us home cooked meals every day and drove Sophie to and from school. Once our memories fully returned, she gracefully stepped back, keeping a perfectly polite and professional distance. But shortly after she found out the truth about our car crash, she mysteriously transferred to Sophie’s kindergarten as a new teacher. Finnerty’s ears turned a faint shade of pink. She spoke softly, “Oliver, I have the whole hiking trail mapped out. Ready to go?” Just as she promised, the day was perfectly organized. When Sophie got tired of walking, Finnerty naturally crouched down. “Hop on, kiddo.” I felt incredibly guilty. “Don’t spoil her too much, Finnerty. You’re already carrying the heavy backpack.” She just laughed, casually walking by my side. “It’s fine. I hit the gym all the time. I’ve got plenty of stamina.” For some reason, looking at her beautiful side profile in the sunlight, my heart skipped a weird beat. Even after we reached the rest area and she took Sophie to buy water, that strange fluttering in my chest didn’t go away. Right at that moment, a familiar, childish voice echoed from down the trail. “Mommy! Let’s race!” Followed by Nathan’s laughing voice. “Slow down, Toby! You’re going to trip.” And finally, Madison’s warm, affectionate response. “Sir Toby, your mother is going to catch you!” I turned around. My eyes locked directly with the three of them standing just a few yards away. The air instantly froze. Nathan’s face went completely pale. He yanked his son into his chest, his voice violently shaking. “Oliver… are you… are you stalking us again? I swear, Madison and I are just friends! Toby just misses having a mother, he doesn’t mean anything by it… take your anger out on me, just please don’t hurt my boy…” Madison instantly stepped forward, shielding the two of them behind her body like I was a rabid bear about to attack. Her jaw clenched, her eyebrows pulling together in fierce anger. “Oliver. I told you, this is a therapy session. Their mental state is incredibly fragile. How many times do I have to spell it out for you to stop acting like a paranoid psychopath?” I looked at her familiar yet alien face. I looked at the exact scenario that used to make me scream, cry, and lose my absolute mind. But standing here now, my chest was a lake of total calm. Honestly, the whole thing just felt comical. It’s crazy how you can’t even empathize with your past self. Looking at her, I genuinely couldn’t figure out what I ever saw in her. If I loved her, I would be furious right now. But I just waved my hand dismissively, my tone incredibly relaxed. “I know. It’s your job as a psychiatrist. You really don’t need to explain yourself to me.” “We’re just here to hike. Total coincidence. You guys keep doing your thing. Just pretend we don’t exist.” Madison clearly didn’t expect that. She stared at me intensely. “Toby just called me Mom. You aren’t mad?” I looked at her, genuinely confused. “Why would I be mad?” She analyzed my face, desperately searching for any crack in my composure, any sign that I was faking it. She found absolutely nothing. Her expression turned incredibly dark. The air around her grew even colder. After a long, agonizing silence, she seemed to reach a conclusion in her own head. She spoke with a cold, absolute certainty. “Drop the act, Oliver. I know you’re just throwing a tantrum. I will sit down and have a serious talk with you tonight. But right now, you need to go home. I’ll let this incident slide.” I was just about to tell her she was delusional when a clear, melodious voice chimed in from behind me. “Oliver, is everything okay?” Madison whipped her head toward the voice, her entire body freezing in place. “What’s going on?” Finnerty walked up to my side, carrying my daughter. Sophie’s face was covered in sticky sugar dust. I naturally stepped toward them. “What took you guys so long? Did Sophie beg you for junk food again?” Catching Sophie’s desperate, pleading look, Finnerty laughed smoothly to cover for her. “I just got her a tiny cotton candy for an energy boost. And this one is for you.” Like a magician, she pulled a massive, fluffy cotton candy from behind her back and handed it to me. I couldn’t help but smile. I reached out to take it. “Oliver,” Madison’s voice sliced through the air like a razor blade. “Who is she?” Hiding behind Madison’s legs, Toby peeked his head out and muttered, “Why is Ms. Finnerty here?” I blinked, suddenly realizing something. Ever since Nathan and Toby walked into our lives, Madison hadn’t dropped Sophie off at kindergarten a single time. She hadn’t even bothered to ask who helped us after the car crash. This was the very first time she was laying eyes on Finnerty. “This is Ms. Finnerty,” I introduced her simply. “If it wasn’t for her pulling us out of the wreck half a year ago, Sophie and I wouldn’t be here.” When it was time to introduce Madison, Finnerty already had a polite, gorgeous smile on her face. She extended her hand gracefully. “You must be Toby’s mother. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421692”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 “Gas stations dilute their fuel with water all the time. If we pour some of our drinking water into the tank, it will definitely stretch our mileage.” Frank’s voice buzzed in my ear like a persistent mosquito. I pinched my own cheek hard. Pain flared instantly. I was reborn. “Oliver, please don’t be so stubborn. Just listen to the group. This might actually be the only way we get out of these badlands alive,” Frank said, looking at me with wide, timid eyes as if I were a monster about to devour him. Valerie and the rest of the sponsored students were staring me down. I knew this scene perfectly. If I dared to reject Frank’s brilliant suggestion, they would swarm me with righteous indignation. I had already lived through this nightmare once. I offered a bright, entirely hollow smile. “Frank is so smart to come up with such a brilliant idea.” “Go ahead. Pour it in. The car will definitely run so much faster with water in the tank.” … Standing nearby, Valerie offered a rare, relieved smile. “Glad to see you’re finally learning to read the room,” she murmured. I had absolutely no desire to argue with them. My mind was already racing, calculating my own escape route out of this barren wasteland. There were eleven of us in total, split across three off-road vehicles. Originally, Valerie and I were supposed to share a car. But Frank had relentlessly whined until she agreed to ride with him, leaving me driving entirely alone. In my past life, my SUV had the most gas left. Desperate to give the group a chance at survival, I had surrendered all my supplies to them and driven out into the endless desert alone to find a rescue team. In this life, I couldn’t care less if these idiots dug their own graves. As long as I got out alive, nothing else mattered. Drawing on my memories, I knew civilization was about sixty miles west. My gas tank could take me forty-five miles. Thanks to years of extreme sports training, my stamina was peak. I could easily hike the remaining fifteen miles before nightfall, and I had plenty of water in my trunk to survive the trek. With a solid plan in place, the tension bled out of my shoulders. Just to be safe, I popped the trunk and retrieved a heavy, tactical luxury watch. It was a birthday gift from her. In my previous life, she had found this exact watch in the bloody dirt where the wolves had torn me apart. She had completely broken down, slapping her own face in hysterical grief, blaming herself for never telling me it had a built-in military-grade GPS beacon. All I had to do was press a button, and she could have found me anywhere on earth. The corners of my lips curled up. With a few quick presses, I activated the satellite signal. This time, I prayed she would find me. Catching the glint of the expensive metal on my wrist, a flash of ugly jealousy crossed Frank’s eyes. “Oliver, don’t you have a few cases of bottled water in your trunk? Bring them out for us.” My stomach dropped. They wanted to use my drinking water to ruin the cars? 2 “I have four cases in my trunk. Why should I give them to you?” I challenged. Frank crossed his arms, his posture dripping with unearned entitlement. “Oliver, we are stranded in the desert. Water is an incredibly precious resource. You can’t just hoard it all for yourself.” I let out a harsh laugh. Not ten minutes ago, he had used a full bottle of water just to wash his face. Now suddenly he cared about conservation? Valerie stepped forward, fixing me with a cold stare. “Bring it out.” Her tone left zero room for argument. I took a slow breath, forcing down the boiling rage in my chest, and tried one last time to appeal to logic. “I bought that water with my own money.” “Are you seriously keeping score at a time like this?” Frank interrupted, puffing out his chest like a brave martyr. “We have to stay united when we’re in danger. If everyone acted as selfishly as you, how would we ever survive this trip?” Right on cue, the rest of the sponsored students turned their disgusted glares on me. “You can’t drink a whole case by yourself anyway. Hand it over so we can ration it.” “Bring the water out, Oliver! Don’t make us take it by force.” “Rich kids are all the same. Self-centered and useless. You don’t have a fraction of Frank’s maturity.” Self-centered? If my family hadn’t set up the Sinclair Foundation to pay for their tuition, every single one of these ingrates would be breaking their backs on a construction site right now. They wouldn’t have college degrees, and they certainly wouldn’t be guaranteed cushy corporate jobs at my family’s company after graduation. Suddenly, I understood exactly why my parents had insisted I take this road trip with them. Extreme situations strip away the polite masks people wear. This trip was my parents’ final character test for their prospective employees. When I didn’t move, they swarmed the back of my SUV and started dragging the heavy cases of water out. I lunged forward to stop them, but three guys immediately tackled me, pinning me hard against the scorching dirt. I watched, completely helpless, as they unscrewed the caps and poured pristine drinking water directly into the gas tanks. Without water, driving under this blistering sun would guarantee severe dehydration and heatstroke. “Give that back.” I gritted my teeth, struggling to push myself off the ground. Frank seized the opportunity. He scooped up a handful of loose, gritty sand and shoved it violently into my mouth. “Shut up!” he snarled, his voice dropping its innocent act. “Say one more word and I’ll fill your stomach with dirt.” I gagged violently, coughing as the coarse sand scraped down my throat and filled my nasal passages. Tears and mucus streamed down my face. I was completely humiliated, pinned to the earth like an animal. Seeing me so pathetic, the sponsored students erupted into cruel laughter. “Is this really the great heir to the Sinclair fortune? He looks like a stray dog! Hilarious!” I clamped my jaw shut, forced myself up to my knees, and swung my arm back, aiming a brutal slap right at Frank’s smug face. Before my hand could connect, someone gripped my wrist like a vice. While I was restrained, Frank instantly recovered and slapped me across the cheek with all his strength. A sharp crack echoed in the dry air. Valerie froze, dropping my wrist in shock. I slumped back into the dirt, my face burning with a fiery, stinging pain. Frank immediately cowered behind Valerie, his eyes wide with manufactured terror. “I’m so sorry, Oliver! You tried to hit me first! It was just self-defense!” Valerie extended a hand toward me, her face twisting with deep disappointment. “Get up. Stop embarrassing yourself.” I blinked back the moisture in my eyes, tilting my head up to look her dead in the face. “Valerie, we’re done. We are breaking up.” “Frank was just reacting to your violence. He didn’t mean to hit you that hard. Why are you throwing another tantrum?” Valerie shielded Frank with her body, glaring at me warily as if I were a predator about to snap her fragile little flower in half. A suffocating wave of exhaustion washed over me. Throwing a tantrum? From the day we started dating, anytime I didn’t blindly agree with her, I was “throwing a tantrum.” When I chose not to attend the same mediocre university as her, I was throwing a tantrum. When I opted to study abroad for a semester, I was throwing a tantrum. Whenever Frank shed a single crocodile tear, I was throwing a tantrum. “Valerie, we are fundamentally different people. Ending this is the best thing for both of us.” Time had completely eroded the girl I used to love. When I was twelve, I sneaked out to a cheap street food stall and saw Valerie huddled in a greasy corner, scrubbing dishes until her hands were raw. Her eyes had tracked the passing students in their neat uniforms with such desperate longing. 3 My heart had broken for her. I begged my father to sponsor her education. Valerie didn’t waste the opportunity. She studied relentlessly, earning a spot at my elite high school. During our freshman assembly, a massive lighting rig snapped and plummeted toward the stage. She threw herself over me, taking the impact. She suffered a severe concussion and spent a month in the hospital. With blood pouring into her eyes, she had smiled and whispered, “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.” After that, it was only natural that we became a couple. But I didn’t know exactly when her eyes started drifting toward Frank. Like her, he was a charity case. His pathetic, helpless demeanor constantly triggered her savior complex. She wanted to coddle him, to protect him, until eventually her entire heart shifted in his direction. I stumbled to my feet, snatched my keys from Frank’s loose grip, and threw myself into the driver’s seat of my SUV. The moment the engine roared to life, a heavy weight lifted off my chest. I was finally leaving this nightmare. But as I threw the car into drive, Valerie boldly stepped directly in front of my bumper. I slammed the brakes, my forehead smashing violently against the steering wheel. A flicker of genuine concern crossed her eyes as she softened her tone. “Stop being dramatic. It’s suicide to drive out there alone.” Frank hurried over, wrapping an arm around Valerie’s shoulder while shooting me a triumphant smirk. “Oliver, stop acting like a spoiled brat. You have the most fuel. If you drive off and waste it, what are we supposed to do?” His words rallied the crowd instantly. “Exactly! We have to stick together to be safe.” “Let’s siphon the gas out of his tank. That way we have a better chance!” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “This is my car. Why the hell would I give you my gas?” Not only was it my car, but the other two vehicles technically belonged to me as well. One of the guys stepped up, his face red with anger. “We are trying to survive a crisis here! Why are you still obsessing over what belongs to who?” I rolled my eyes. “Both of your cars are packed full. If you take my SUV, where exactly am I supposed to sit? Are you giving up your seat for me?” The guy instantly shut his mouth. Frank tilted his head, acting as if a brilliant idea had just struck him. “Oliver, don’t you love driving convertibles? You can just sit on the roof! You’ll get all the fresh air you want.” The group eagerly latched onto the absurd cruelty of the idea. “Yeah, the roof is perfect! Doesn’t he love freedom? Let him feel the breeze.” “Don’t worry, we have cargo ropes in the trunk. We’ll strap you down tight so you don’t fall off.” “This is an extreme sport money can’t even buy. The great Mr. Sinclair will have a great story to brag about at his country club.” Valerie let out a heavy sigh. Just as I thought she was going to shut down this psychotic proposal, her next words plunged me into an ice bath. “You do love extreme sports. Your stamina is better than anyone else’s here. You’ll survive on the roof.” Having already lost all hope in her, I didn’t bother arguing. I stomped on the gas pedal. “He’s making a run for it! Grab him!” Frank shrieked. The entire group swarmed the vehicle. Someone yanked the driver’s door open, and multiple hands dragged me violently out of the cabin. I thrashed wildly, kicking and swinging to break their grip. “Ah!” Frank let out a sharp cry, clutching his chest and dropping into a crouch, his face contorted in agony. “Oliver, why did you kick me?” Valerie violently shoved me away and dropped to her knees, pulling him into her arms. I froze for a second, my instinct to defend myself kicking in. “I didn’t even touch him.” Frank buried his face in Valerie’s shoulder, looking up at me with trembling fear. “Oliver, I’m sorry I got in your way. Please don’t hit me again. It hurts so much.” Hearing this, Valerie’s brow furrowed. She glared at me, her voice absolute ice. “Apologize to him!” “I didn’t do anything wrong! Why should I apologize?” The crowd immediately drowned me out. “You were thrashing around like a maniac, of course you hit him.” “Frank is too pure to lie about something like this. Apologize right now!” 4 Sweat beaded on Frank’s forehead, his breathing shallow and erratic. “Sand got into my wound.” He lifted his forearm, presenting a microscopic scratch to Valerie like it was a fatal injury. Valerie glared at me with pure venom. “Oliver Sinclair! Look at what you’ve done.” A mocking smile touched my lips. “If you waited five more minutes, that scratch would have healed completely.” Frank forced a weak, brave smile, his tone dripping with fake humility. “Oliver, you don’t have to apologize. But could I borrow your sun-proof jacket? I just need something to block the wind and the sand. My arm is burning.” The jacket I was wearing was woven from a proprietary, breathable material. My mother had commissioned a luxury designer to custom-make it for me. It blocked UV rays, repelled water, and cut the wind completely. You couldn’t buy it in stores. I rejected him without a second thought. “I’m highly allergic to UV exposure. Find something else.” Frank let out a pathetic, dramatic groan. “Never mind then. My life obviously isn’t worth as much as the young master’s delicate skin.” Valerie’s face turned to stone. “UV allergy? That’s just a pathetic excuse because you’re terrified of getting a tan.” “I am going to count to three. Take it off yourself.” “One. Two.” She didn’t even wait for three. Her patience vanished. She lunged forward, grabbed the collar of the jacket, and violently stripped it off my body. Underneath, I was only wearing a thin tank top. The moment my bare skin met the brutal, relentless sun, it began to flush an angry red. The stinging pain was immediate. Valerie gently draped the custom jacket over Frank’s shoulders, softly blowing the dust away from his microscopic scratch. Looking at them made my stomach churn with physical disgust. I turned on my heel and marched back toward the SUV. Just as my hand touched the door handle, Valerie grabbed my wrist. “It’s just a jacket! Why are you throwing another tantrum!” Those words were the spark that finally incinerated the last shred of my restraint. I swung my free hand and slapped her across the face with everything I had. “I never throw tantrums. I just throw hands!” A bright red handprint instantly bloomed across her cheek. Frank shrieked. “Are you insane? You hit her!” Valerie pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek, her expression darkening into something truly terrifying. “You make a mistake, and you refuse to repent. It seems you really need to be taught a lesson, Oliver.” My stomach dropped. A primal alarm bell rang in my head. “Since you refused to sit on the roof, you can stay behind the car.” My eyes widened in horror. “Valerie, you are completely psychotic!” Before I could run, two of the heaviest guys in the group tackled me to the dirt. They bound my wrists tightly with heavy nylon rope. They secured the other end to the SUV’s rear towing hook. “When you realize you’re wrong, we’ll untie you,” Valerie said coldly. With that final sentence, she climbed into the driver’s seat. The engine roared. The car lurched forward, yanking my arms tight. I had to sprint just to keep my footing. The SUV accelerated. My legs couldn’t keep up. I stumbled, hitting the asphalt hard, and the car continued to drag me. The rough, sun-baked gravel shredded my exposed skin. Hot blood began to stream down my arms and chest. Panic seized me completely. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Stop! Please, stop the car!” The muffled sound of laughter and upbeat pop music drifted back from the open windows. No one was listening. No one cared. The SUV swerved sharply to avoid a pothole. My body whipped sideways, and my head slammed brutally into a jagged rock. A blinding flash of white light exploded behind my eyes. Warm blood poured down my forehead, blinding me. True, unfiltered terror flooded my veins. Survival instinct overrode any lingering pride. “I’m sorry! I was wrong! Please!” I begged into the roaring wind. But the engine noise drowned out my pleas. The car showed zero signs of slowing down. I was actually going to die out here. My consciousness began to fracture. As the darkness crept in, I hallucinated the rhythmic thumping of helicopter rotors closing in on me. A woman’s voice cut through the chaos, frantic and furious. “Cut him loose right now!” Up ahead, thick black smoke began to pour from the hoods of the two lead vehicles. The convoy screeched to a halt. Someone inside yelled in panic. “We have a problem! The engine is dead!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421708”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Valentine’s Day rolled around again. Just like the past five years, my husband, Simon, wasn’t home to celebrate with me. He always claimed this day was the anniversary of his parents’ death and that he needed to be alone to mourn them. I had always been completely understanding of his devotion. Every year on this day, I would quietly stay home, too afraid to even send him a text in case it interrupted his grief. My best friend, Regan, always told me I was suffering in silence for nothing. She said I deserved better. But I would always jump to his defense, telling her how deeply he valued family and loyalty. The day after Valentine’s, I was tidying up the house and decided to take the black trench coat he wore yesterday to the dry cleaners. As I emptied the pockets, a crumpled receipt fell out. It was from a high-end French bistro. I picked it up. The date printed at the top was glaringly obvious. February 14th. It was a receipt for their Valentine’s Exclusive Tasting Menu for Two. It even included a complimentary bouquet of roses and signature cocktails. Seeing that piece of paper, my brain simply short-circuited. I don’t even know what possessed me, but my hands were shaking as I unlocked my phone and tapped on Regan’s Instagram story from last night. She had posted a picture of a candlelit dinner. The caption read, “Our special spot. Another year with you.” The location tagged at the top of the photo was that exact same French bistro. … The world blurred out of focus right in front of my eyes. I have no idea how I managed to walk back into the living room. The house felt just as suffocatingly cold as it had been yesterday. Memories of every past Valentine’s Day flashed through my mind like a twisted movie reel. The first year we were married, I had booked a romantic dinner weeks in advance. He had looked at me with such sorrow and said, “I’m so sorry, babe. Today is the anniversary of my parents’ passing. I just need to go for a drive alone.” I had canceled the reservation immediately, drowning in guilt for being so insensitive. From then on, every February 14th, he went out alone. I never asked questions. I never complained. It turned out he wasn’t avoiding Valentine’s Day because of his parents. He just didn’t want to spend it with me. My phone vibrated in my palm. It was a text from Regan. “Audrey, did you spend last night all by yourself again? Sending you the biggest hug!” “Ugh, you spend it alone every single year. If you ask me, you shouldn’t let a man walk all over you like this.” “But then again, you always say Simon is just being a good son. You have a big heart.” I stared at the screen. Taking a shaky breath, I forced my trembling fingers to type a reply. “It’s fine, I’m used to it. I understand him. How was your night?” “Oh my god, my boyfriend took me to that French place! The one we walked past while shopping last time. Crazy coincidence, right?” “He’s been so sweet lately. He’s actually sitting right next to me while I get my nails done. After this, we’re going to a penthouse suite he booked downtown. It has these gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bay. So romantic.” I read her messages line by line, my fingers shaking so violently I could barely hold the phone. Shortly after Simon and I got married, Regan told me she had started dating someone. But for five years, she kept him completely hidden. She never posted his face. She never brought him around. I used to wonder if her boyfriend was somehow unpresentable. It turned out I saw him every single day. I grabbed my coat, hailed a cab, and headed straight to the luxury nail salon at the Plaza, the one Regan frequented every week. The moment the elevator doors slid open on the third floor, my eyes locked onto the window seats. Regan was sitting in a plush velvet chair, extending her hand to the nail technician. My husband, Simon, was sitting right beside her. He was holding a cup of iced coffee, pushing the straw right up to her lips. Regan took a sip, frowned, and muttered something. Simon chuckled, picking up a cherry from a nearby fruit platter and gently feeding it to her instead. She smiled brightly, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. The way Simon looked down at her was filled with a tender, raw affection I hadn’t seen directed at me in years. I stood frozen by the elevators, rooted to the spot like a stone statue. My heart felt like it had been plunged into an ice bath, the pain so intense it morphed into total numbness. I pulled out my phone. Standing behind the frosted glass partition, I snapped over a dozen crystal-clear photos. Then, I turned around and stepped back into the elevator. As the metal doors slid shut, I leaned heavily against the wall. Fragments of the past rushed back to me. Back in college, he would run across the basketball court, flashing a huge, goofy grin in my direction every time he scored. After graduation, he got down on one knee, swearing he would make me the happiest woman alive. My father had always admired his ambition. Before my dad passed away, he slowly handed the reins of his entire company over to Simon. At my father’s funeral, Simon had held me tight, whispering into my hair, “Audrey, I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, and I’ll take care of the business.” Right now, my father’s life’s work was entirely in his hands. And the golden son-in-law my father had trusted so deeply was out feeding cherries to my best friend. I unlocked my phone and uploaded every single photo to a secure cloud drive. For the next week, I played the part of the blissfully ignorant wife perfectly. Simon must have sensed something was slightly off. He started acting far more attentive than usual, bringing home pastries from my favorite bakery after work. “Audrey, have I been neglecting you lately?” he asked one evening, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, his tone dripping with fake guilt. “Work has been crazy. And with the anniversary of my parents passing, my head has just been in a dark place. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” Using his dead parents as a shield again. A wave of pure nausea hit me. “It’s fine,” I replied softly. “You value family. You’re a good son. I understand.” The weather was beautiful the day Regan invited me out shopping. She linked her arm through mine, acting as chummy and sweet as if she hadn’t stolen a thing in the world. “Audrey, look at this dress! Isn’t it stunning?” She spun around in front of the boutique’s full-length mirror. The neckline was plunged low, perfectly framing the faint, reddish bruises scattered across her collarbone. “My boyfriend was way too passionate last night. I kept telling him to take it easy, but he just wouldn’t listen.” She smiled at her reflection, her voice laced with deliberate bragging. I looked at her through the mirror, suddenly remembering exactly how we met. When Regan first moved to this city, she was scammed out of her life savings. I was the one who took her in and let her crash in my guest room. Five years ago, her abusive ex put her in the hospital. I was the one who sat with her in the ER, helped her file the police report, and paid the deposit on her new apartment so she could hide. On the day Simon and I got married, she stood beside me as my maid of honor, crying so hard her mascara ran. She told me that having a friend like me was the greatest blessing of her life. And this was how she repaid me. “Audrey? What are you thinking about?” “Nothing.” She dragged me over to the jewelry counters, pointing at a pair of diamond wedding bands. “Say, if I just randomly announced I was getting married, would it completely shock you?” I heard my own voice reply, dead flat and eerily calm. “Marriage is a happy occasion. Why would that shock me?” She seemed a little disappointed by my lack of reaction. She awkwardly put the ring down and clung to my arm again. That night, when I got home, Simon was in the shower. His phone was sitting on the nightstand, plugged into the charger. Driven by a dark, magnetic pull, I picked it up. His text threads were scrubbed entirely clean. But he couldn’t erase his bank statements. For the past five years, there was a fixed monthly wire transfer. The memo read “Living Expenses.” The recipient was Regan. But it didn’t stop there. I dug deeper and found several massive, untraceable offshore transfers. Furthermore, I pulled up some of the company’s tax filing drafts from the last few quarters. The numbers were drastically different from the financial reports he had shown me at home. He was siphoning assets. Worse, he was committing corporate tax fraud. My fingers turned to ice, but my heart felt like it was roasting over an open flame. I thought his betrayal was limited to his heart and his body. I never imagined he was actively hollowing out the legacy my father built, brick by brick. A week later, a text from Regan popped up on my screen. “Audrey, I’m pregnant!” “My boyfriend is out of town on a business trip and I feel awful. You’ve been through this before, could you come keep me company?” I stared at those words, my stomach churning violently. During our third year of marriage, I had gotten pregnant. I was five months along. I could already feel the baby kicking against my ribs. Simon took me to my anatomy scan. On the ride home, the car was suffocatingly silent. When we walked through the front door, he handed me a lab report, his eyes red and brimming with tears. He held me tightly and choked out, “Audrey, the doctor said the baby’s development is severely compromised. Even if he survives the birth, he’ll be in agonizing pain his whole life. We’re still young. We can try again.” I had cried until my throat bled. I didn’t want to believe it. But he acted even more devastated than I was. He blamed himself, weeping into his hands, saying he had failed to protect me and our child. Eventually, under his relentless, tearful persuasion, I lay down on the operating table. Right before the anesthesia pulled me under, I felt one last, gentle flutter in my stomach. When I woke up, I was left with an empty womb and an endless, crushing void of grief. Regan was right by my side through all of it. She held my hand, crying with me, cursing the universe for being so cruel, promising me that I would be a mother someday. Now, staring at the word “pregnant” on my screen, a horrifying, sickening realization struck me. If they had been sleeping together for five years, there was absolutely no way they would have allowed me to give birth to the heir of my father’s company. I bolted upright, grabbed my car keys, and rushed out the door. I dug up my old hospital patient ID and drove straight to the maternity ward I visited three years ago. I waited for three agonizing hours until a nurse finally emerged from the medical records basement with a yellowing file. “Audrey Caldwell, right? Found it.” I flipped it open. The ink was perfectly clear. Fetus developing normally. No anomalies detected. I stared at those words, my hands shaking so violently the paper rattled. “Nurse… is this the exact same report that was given to me back then?” I heard my own voice ask. It sounded shredded, alien. The nurse glanced at it. “This is the original medical file. What you received back then would have been a photocopy. Is something wrong?” I shook my head, silently taking crystal-clear photos of every single page. By the time I walked out of the hospital, the sun had set. I crouched by the curb and dry-heaved until my ribs ached, but nothing came up. My baby. My baby who had already started kicking me. The baby I let them kill. I sat in my car, zipped all the photos, bank statements, and hospital records into a single encrypted folder, and emailed it straight to my corporate lawyer. Then, I put the car in drive and headed straight for the company headquarters. Simon. Regan. I hope you’re ready to pay the price.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421693”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I spent two grueling months on an overseas business trip, moving mountains to secure a massive partnership that would save my girlfriend’s company from bankruptcy. When I finally landed, exhausted but thrilled, I called her to share the good news. She told me not to bother showing up to the celebration gala. “You need to let Felix take the credit for this.” “He’s new to the company and needs to build authority before I promote him to General Manager. He needs this win more than you do.” Her tone was so casual, so completely entitled, that I literally couldn’t believe my ears. It wasn’t until the fire alarms violently blared at the gala, right as I reached out to grab Christine’s hand to guide her to safety, that the truth really sank in. She completely bypassed me, grabbing Felix’s hand instead, and sprinted toward the emergency exit without a single backward glance. At that exact moment, my heart turned to ash. I turned around and silently accepted the olive branch from her biggest corporate rival. … “Victor, are you out of your mind? You seriously came to ruin Felix’s night? Why couldn’t you just stay home? What is your problem!” Christine was furious when she saw me at the venue. She grabbed my arm and dragged me into a deserted corner of the banquet hall. “Can you just drop it? If you hadn’t stubbornly hoarded the project I specifically assigned to Felix, the company would have recovered months ago. Why did you have to drag it out!” I stared at her, letting out a cold, bitter laugh. “I busted my ass negotiating this deal. I was just about to sign the final contract, and you want Felix to just waltz in and take the credit? On what grounds?” “The kid doesn’t even know the difference between the printer and the paper shredder in his own office. What makes you think he can handle a project of this magnitude?” For the past two months, I had practically killed myself for Christine’s company. I hadn’t slept a full night in weeks. I was drowning in endless meetings, staying up until dawn writing proposals, and practically begging investors for capital. I poured my literal blood, sweat, and tears into landing this multi-million dollar contract. Footsteps approached. Felix strolled over with a glass of red wine in his hand, a painfully fake, apologetic smile plastered across his face. “Victor, thank you so much for handling the overseas grunt work for me.” “Don’t worry, I’ll take over hosting the executives and finalizing the paperwork. You can finally rest.” Before I could even open my mouth, Christine chimed in with a sneer. “Why are you being so polite to him? He’s completely rigid and unimaginative. You have way more vision than he does, so obviously you’ll manage this project better.” Felix sighed softly. “Please don’t be mad at Christine, Victor. She’s just worried about my lack of experience.” “I’m getting promoted to General Manager soon, and I really need a flagship project to prove myself.” Christine looked at him, her eyes practically melting with affection. “Felix, why are you apologizing to him? Paving the way for your success is his privilege!” “Please don’t say that, Christine. You’ll upset him,” Felix replied weakly, playing the role of the innocent peacemaker to perfection. But the moment Christine looked away, he shot me a smug, incredibly punchy smirk. My chest felt suffocatingly tight. A wave of profound exhaustion washed over me. While I was halfway across the world sacrificing my health to keep her business afloat, she hadn’t bothered to call me once. Not a single text to ask if I was okay. Felix had just graduated college, yet Christine instantly made him her personal executive assistant. And now, the moment I returned, she was pushing him into the General Manager seat. He had only been at the company for three months! “It’s time for the opening speech. Ignore him, let’s go.” Up on the stage, Christine cheerfully popped a bottle of champagne. Felix pulled her into his arms, intimately brushing a stray drop of liquor from her bangs. The surrounding colleagues whispered with unmistakable envy. “No way. Did the new manager just kiss the CEO?” “So they really are dating? I thought the kid was just bragging.” “Obviously they are. Look at the way she stares at him. She’s completely hooked.” Listening to the office gossip, I thought about the four years Christine and I had been together. She absolutely refused to make our relationship public. She claimed office romances created a toxic environment, insisting that as the boss, she had to set a professional standard. She never let me ride in her car. Yet she personally chauffeured Felix to and from work every single day. She demanded we pretend to be distant colleagues during business hours. Yet she allowed Felix to take naps in the private bedroom attached to her office. If Felix so much as sneezed during a board meeting, she would instantly pause the presentation and escort him out to rest. We had explosive fights over this exact double standard. “You have a filthy mind, Victor! You see dirt wherever you look!” “Why are you so insecure? Felix is just like a little brother to me. You’re a grown man in his thirties, why are you picking fights with a kid!” Christine always resorted to the silent treatment, and I was always the one who surrendered, apologizing just to keep the peace. If this were the old me, I would have stormed the stage and knocked Felix’s teeth down his throat. But tonight, I was just completely drained. Before I could even turn to leave, a piercing fire alarm suddenly shattered the atmosphere. 2 Thick, black smoke billowed from the back of the hall, rapidly swallowing the ceiling. Panic erupted. The crowd devolved into a screaming, shoving stampede. Instinct took over. I lunged forward, desperately reaching out for Christine. “Christine, stay behind me! I’ll get you out!” Before my hand could even brush hers, a violent force slammed into my back. Someone intentionally shoved me hard into the chaotic crowd. Caught entirely off guard, I crashed face-first onto the hard marble floor. A sickening crunch echoed through the noise. White-hot agony flared in my ankle. Seconds later, a heavy boot viciously stomped down on my calf. The force was entirely deliberate, calculated to shatter bone. Cold sweat instantly drenched my clothes. I lost all sensation in the lower half of my body. Through the suffocating smoke and trampling feet, I caught a glimpse of Felix. His eyes were narrowed into dark, malicious slits, a sadistic smirk twisting the corners of his mouth. Then, his expression completely morphed. “Christine, my chest hurts so much! I can’t breathe… I can’t walk… please, you need to help Victor get up…” Felix began to violently tremble, forcing out a pained gasp as he leaned heavily against the wall. “Felix, what’s wrong? You’re terrifying me!” Seeing him collapse, Christine forcefully slapped my reaching hand away. She threw her arms around Felix, her voice cracking with sheer panic. “Is it another panic attack? Look at me, can you hold on?” Blood rushed to my head. “He’s faking it! How can you not see through such a pathetic act?” “Victor, you are unbelievable! You’re seriously jealous right now? People are fighting for their lives!” Seeing Felix grow seemingly paler by the second, Christine’s eyes filled with frantic tears. “Felix is having a medical emergency. I’m getting him out of here right now!” Her words literally froze the blood in my veins. “I think my leg is broken. I can’t stand up. You’re leaving me here to die for him?” “I already called emergency services. The firefighters will be here any second.” Christine grabbed Felix’s arm, completely abandoning me, and rushed toward the illuminated exit sign. “You’re not going to die waiting a few minutes. Just stay where you are!” The acrid smoke ruthlessly choked the air out of the room. Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. Combined with my severe sleep deprivation from the business trip, my vision began to rapidly blur. I used the absolute last ounce of my strength to plead with her. “Please. I’m begging you. Don’t leave me.” As they brushed past me, Christine didn’t even spare me a single glance. That was the moment I finally understood. I occupied absolutely zero space in her heart. That was the moment my love for her permanently died. When I finally regained consciousness, my right leg was encased in a heavy plaster cast, elevated at the end of a hospital bed. “Victor, you’re awake! Do you need a doctor?” Harper, a colleague from the marketing department, hovered over me with genuine concern. I had passed out from severe smoke inhalation. Harper explained that she found me unconscious on the floor and physically dragged me out of the burning building. I thanked her softly, promising to treat her to a nice dinner once I was discharged. The local news was playing on the small TV in the corner. The fire was caused by a catastrophic grease fire in the kitchen. Thankfully, there were no fatal casualties. Once Harper left the room, I picked up my phone and dialed a number. “Mr. Harrison. I’ve thought it over, and I’d like to accept your offer. I’m ready to join your firm next week.” A boisterous laugh boomed through the speaker. “Victor! You finally came to your senses! A man needs to prioritize his empire. I promise you’ll get the absolute best compensation package our overseas branch has to offer. But what about your fiancée? You said you couldn’t bear to leave her behind…” “It doesn’t matter anymore. That part of my life is over,” I replied blankly. Mr. Harrison was sharp enough not to pry. A few minutes later, the digital employment contract landed in my inbox. The moment I signed my name, I mindlessly opened my social media feed. The first post was a brand new update from Felix. “Feeling under the weather, but my favorite person made me hot soup. Feeling completely spoiled and loved.” The attached photo was taken from behind. It showed Christine wearing a cute apron, diligently stirring a pot on the stove. This time, I didn’t feel a trace of anger. I just tapped the like button. In our four years together, Christine had never once cooked a meal for me. When I was bedridden with a severe fever, she couldn’t even be bothered to order me a delivery meal. I always justified it by telling myself she simply didn’t know her way around a kitchen. I remembered one scorching summer day, feeling incredibly bad for how stressed she was at work. I woke up at dawn, bought the freshest ingredients from the market, and spent hours cooking her a meticulously balanced lunch. Sweating profusely under the blinding sun, I proudly delivered the food to her office. Instead of gratitude, I walked in to find her aggressively flirting with Felix. “Christine, I really want hot pot for lunch today.” “Patience, little boy. I’ll take you out in a minute.” She laughed, playfully tracing the outline of his abs through his shirt. But the second she noticed me standing in the doorway, her smile vanished into a dark scowl. “Victor, I specifically told you not to bother me during business hours unless it’s an absolute emergency!” Sensing the tension, Felix casually walked over and slung an arm over my shoulder. “Want to come with us, Victor? Too bad we only made a reservation for two.” I just let out a cold laugh, set the lunchbox on her desk, and walked out. Later that evening, I found out they took the chicken soup I spent hours brewing and dumped it in the alley to feed the stray cats. The morning after my hospital admission, the attending doctor informed me I could be discharged the following day. My phone suddenly buzzed violently on the nightstand. It was Christine. “Victor, where the hell are you playing hide and seek?” “We are officially signing the contract today. Why aren’t you at the office backing Felix up? Stop throwing a tantrum!” I answered completely truthfully. “I’m in the hospital. I barely survived that fire.” Christine scoffed loudly through the speaker. “How long are you going to keep up this pathetic act? The firefighters arrived immediately. You are perfectly fine.” “I already called around. The emergency responders didn’t see you, and the staff said you walked out of the building on your own.” “Yesterday you fake a broken leg, today you fake a hospital stay. Felix is generous enough to forgive your jealousy, so I’m giving you exactly ten minutes to drag yourself back to the office.” I slowly peeled a tangerine my hospital roommate had given me. “Felix is such a charismatic prodigy, isn’t he? You trust him enough to hand him my project, so I’m sure he can handle a simple signature.” “The foreign investors specifically requested you to be present! You need to get here right now! If you ruin this deal, don’t bother coming back to work ever again!” I popped a slice of the tangerine into my mouth. “As you wish. Consider this my official resignation.” 3 Ignoring Christine’s furious screaming on the other end, I calmly hung up the phone. After my discharge, I took a cab straight to the apartment. I systematically packed up my life. Standing at the doorway with my suitcase, I took one final look at the place I had called home for four years. Christine and I grew up together. We were childhood sweethearts. Our parents had even jokingly arranged our marriage when we were toddlers. Everything changed when her father passed away in a sudden accident. Her extended family circled like vultures, eagerly waiting to carve up the company and steal her inheritance. She called me every single night, crying hysterically, terrified she was going to lose everything her father built. So the second I graduated, I sacrificed my own career plans and joined Mercer Enterprises to protect her. Those were the golden days of our romance. She used to write me passionate love letters on pink stationary, fearlessly declaring her devotion. She meticulously documented our dates, crafting beautiful scrapbooks filled with movie tickets and polaroids. We took pottery classes together, proudly displaying our slightly lopsided mugs on the living room shelf as symbols of our future. The shift happened two years ago. The company launched a charity initiative, and Christine ended up sponsoring a struggling college student. Felix. From that moment on, the warmth in our relationship rapidly evaporated. When I tried to communicate my frustrations, she ruthlessly shut me down. She complained that I worked too much, that I was boring, that I acted like a joyless old man. But back then, her company was still surrounded by corporate sharks. I couldn’t afford to take a single day off if I wanted to keep her safe. Then came the nights she simply didn’t come home. Felix took her to underground clubs to dance until dawn. He took her riding on his motorcycle at terrifying speeds through the mountain passes. They camped under the stars, completely isolated from the rest of the world. Three months ago, Christine officially hired him as her personal assistant, showering him with inappropriate perks. Whenever I was exhausted and just wanted to hold her, she would physically shove me away, yet she happily offered to massage Felix’s shoulders when he complained about typing. I once asked if we could adopt a puppy to build a life together. She aggressively refused, calling it a filthy burden. A week later, she and Felix joyfully sponsored an entire shelter of stray animals. She completely “forgot” our anniversary this year, but spent weeks planning a wildly expensive, romantic surprise party for Felix’s birthday. Thinking back on it all, I couldn’t help but laugh at my own stupidity. I pulled out my phone and booked the earliest flight back to my hometown. I planned to spend a week with my parents before flying overseas to start my new life. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Christine. “My mom wants to see you. She misses you and wants you to come over for dinner tonight.” “And remember, keep your mouth shut. Don’t even think about running to her with your pathetic little complaints.” I agreed to go. Eleanor, Christine’s mother, had always treated me like her own son. It was the perfect opportunity to officially end the engagement face-to-face. I arrived early and helped Eleanor in the kitchen, chatting easily as we prepped the vegetables. I was just trying to find the right moment to break the news when the front doorbell chimed. Christine walked in. And trailing right behind her, acting entirely at home, was Felix. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. “Mom, this is my friend Felix. He just got off work, so I brought him over for a bite,” Christine announced. She shot me a disgustingly hostile glare, then marched into the living room without another word. I didn’t even acknowledge her existence. Desperate to score points with the matriarch, Felix bounded into the kitchen, loudly offering his assistance. Eleanor ignored him, raising her voice to scold her daughter in the other room. “Why are you giving Victor attitude the second you walk through the door? Did you two fight again? He just got back from a brutal business trip. You should be taking care of him! He’s been working himself to the bone for our family!” “And what about the engagement banquet next week? Have you finalized the guest list and the catering? We absolutely cannot delay it again.” The banquet was originally supposed to fall on our four-year anniversary, but Christine abandoned the planning midway through because she was too busy organizing Felix’s birthday bash. I pressed my lips together, quietly grateful we never actually sent out the invitations. When dinner was finally ready, I prepared to step out and drop the bomb. Suddenly, Felix blocked my path. His face twisted into a vicious, unrecognizable sneer. “Don’t get cocky, Victor. She is never going to marry you. The one who isn’t loved is the actual homewrecker here!” Before I could process his words, he grabbed a heavy ceramic bowl filled with boiling hot soup and ruthlessly dumped it entirely over his own head. “I only have Christine! No one is going to take her away from me! Let’s see whose side she takes when she sees what you just did to me!” The heavy bowl hit the floor, shattering into a hundred pieces with a deafening crash. The noise instantly brought the women running. I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms, a cold smile playing on my lips. I didn’t even try to defend myself. “Felix! Oh my god, what happened!” Christine charged into the kitchen in a blind panic. She violently shoved me out of the way, her hands frantically hovering over the red, blistering burns forming on Felix’s forehead. “Victor said I was garbage… he said I didn’t deserve to be here… and he said he’d beat me every time he saw my face…” Felix sobbed, tears streaming down his face as he trembled violently. Christine turned to me, her eyes practically blazing with homicidal rage. She pointed a shaking finger right at my nose. “Are you completely psychotic? Did you come here specifically to torture him? What did he ever do to you! Get on your knees and apologize to him right now, or I swear to God I will never forgive you!” Eleanor rushed forward, desperately trying to deescalate the situation, yanking on Christine’s sleeve to make her stop shouting. I just laughed. I looked directly at Felix, who was still weeping crocodile tears. “You can keep the project. And you can keep Christine. I don’t want either of them anymore.” Christine froze. The rage slowly drained from her face, replaced by total disbelief. “What the hell does that mean?” She quickly regained her haughty composure, crossing her arms. “I’m warning you, Victor. If you keep pushing this tantrum, there will be no going back.” “Take a good look in the mirror. Who else is going to want a useless freeloader like you? If you have any dignity left, you have exactly sixty seconds to apologize and take it back.” When I graduated, I turned down massive offers from elite tech firms and gave up a brilliant future to be her loyal servant. And this was my reward. I had spent four years nurturing a viper. “It means exactly what I said. We are broken up.” “You two truly deserve each other.” I turned to Eleanor, pulling a sleek black audio recorder from my pocket and pressing it gently into her hands. “Eleanor, please cancel the banquet. I won’t be staying for dinner tonight. Thank you for everything.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421709”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The holiday weekend was officially over, and I was driving my family back to the city. My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing in the cup holder. Kitty, sitting in the passenger seat, finally glanced over and asked what was going on. I put it on speaker. The panicked, breathless voice of my childhood best friend filled the car. He told me my parents, my wife, and my daughter had all been slaughtered in our home. He said the scene was a slaughterhouse. Most of their organs were gone, and Kitty… Kitty had been decapitated. I chuckled, thinking it was a sick joke, and told him to lay off the booze. After all, my family was sitting right here in the car with me, alive and well. A second later, a video popped up on my screen. It showed my parents and my little girl lying in a massive pool of blood. And right there on the floor was Kitty. Her limbs were severed, her head nowhere to be found. A bucket of ice water washed over my spine. My hands violently jerked the steering wheel, forcing the SUV onto the emergency shoulder. 1 “Ahhh!” The grotesque, mangled image of that severed head flashed behind my eyes. I screamed, violently shoving Kitty away as she leaned in to check the screen. “Don’t come near me!” I roared. The shove sent her crashing against the passenger window. Her hair fell wildly over her face as she whipped around, her eyes blazing with fury. “Harry, have you lost your damn mind? Did you just put your hands on me?” Before her words even settled, a heavy smack landed on the back of my head. My mom leaned forward from the backseat, her face tight with anger. “Exactly, Harry! What the hell is wrong with you? Is this how we raised you? You never, ever lay a hand on your wife. Now speak. What kind of psychotic break are you having?” I couldn’t hear them. My brain was trapped in the loop of that video. Crimson blood dripping down the familiar oak staircase. Mom and Dad’s lifeless bodies sprawled across the steps, soaking in their own gore. My little Anna, a hunting knife buried in her chest, lying right in front of them. And Kitty. Unrecognizable. Her head severed from her body, tossed somewhere out of frame. Impossible. I refused to believe it. It had to be a deepfake. A sick, twisted prank. They were right here in the car, breathing, yelling at me. How could they be butchered on a staircase? I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the suffocating panic, and forced them open again. The horrific video was still playing on my screen. Joshua sent another clip. This one was outside my house. Dozens of cops in shoe covers and latex gloves were swarming the lawn. His voice notes kept playing automatically. [Where are you, man? You need to get back here. It’s a freaking nightmare. There’s blood everywhere.] [They can’t even find Kitty’s head.] [Who the hell did you cross, Harry? Whoever it was, they didn’t plan on leaving anyone breathing.] Before I could even process the words, another message chimed in a minute later. [No, wait. Don’t come back. Whoever did this wants your whole bloodline wiped out. If you come back, you’re a dead man. Run, Harry. Drive as far away as you can and never look back.] 2 I leaned against the side of the car, sucking hard on a cigarette. My mind was a chaotic mess of static. My legs felt like wet cement. Anna rolled down the back window, her sweet, high-pitched voice piercing the cold wind. “Daddy, why aren’t we moving?” My mom stared at me with deep concern. “Harry, what is going on? Who was on the phone? You’re acting like a lunatic.” I looked at them. They were so vibrant, so incredibly alive. Then my mind flashed back to the blood-soaked corpses on my screen. I grabbed my phone, ready to dial 911. It had to be fake. Joshua was losing his mind. We grew up together, but over the years, my tech firm took off while he drowned in gambling debts. He was broke. His wife took the kids and left him. Just before the holidays, he begged me for fifty grand. I said no. He was probably doing this to punish me. Using some cheap AI generator to mess with my head. But right as my thumb hovered over the keypad, an incoming call took over the screen. It was the local police precinct. “Is this Harry?” a gravelly voice asked. “I’m incredibly sorry to inform you, but we’ve found the bodies of your parents, your wife, and your daughter at your residence. We need you to return immediately for questioning.” I stood frozen, gripping the phone, unable to force a single syllable past my throat. Joshua might play a twisted joke, but the police wouldn’t. Were my family members actually dead? Then who were the people sitting inside my car? Pure, unadulterated terror hijacked my brain. Before I could spiral further, Kitty slammed her door open and marched up to me. “Harry, you were driving perfectly fine. Why are you having a meltdown? Talk to me right now.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. “You’re dead. You’re all dead… There was so much blood.” “You son of a…” Kitty slapped me across the cheek, her face flushed with rage. “The holidays literally just ended and you’re wishing death on me? I am standing right in front of you, breathing, and you’re telling me I’m dead?” My mom got out next, smacking the back of my head again. “Stop spouting this nonsense!” I waved my hands frantically. “I’m not making it up! Mom, Joshua sent me a video. He said Kitty is dead. He said you, Dad, and Anna are dead too. I swear to God…” This time, it was my dad. He shoved me so hard I stumbled back into the guardrail. “Are you hallucinating? So our whole family gets wiped out, and you’re the sole survivor? Is that the fantasy here?” “Yes!” I clutched my stomach, nodding desperately. I reached out to grab them, to drag them to the screen so they could see it for themselves. But Kitty had already stormed over to the driver’s seat. “Mom, Dad, get in. We’re leaving. Let the ‘sole survivor’ freeze out here until he gets his head screwed on straight.” Before I could utter another word, Kitty slammed the door, gunned the engine, and merged back onto the highway. Leaving me completely alone in the biting winter wind. 3 My phone rang again. It was the precinct, demanding my location. “Can you get back here immediately? If not, stay exactly where you are. We are sending a cruiser to get you.” Ten minutes later, flashing red and blue lights cut through the bleak afternoon. Detective Carter stepped out of the cruiser. His eyes were like a hawk’s, scanning me, dissecting me. “My condolences. Right now, our priority is finding the bastard who did this. I need your full cooperation.” I grabbed his heavy winter coat, desperate. “Detective, this is a prank, right? Tell me this is some kind of sick joke! My parents, my wife, my kid, they were just here. We were in the same damn car. They can’t be dead. It’s impossible.” Carter’s expression remained carved from stone. “I know trauma does strange things to the mind, but the reality is what it is. Pull yourself together and get in the car.” I practically begged him. “Check the traffic cameras! I swear to you, I’m not lying. How else would I end up stranded on the shoulder of the interstate?” Carter didn’t waste another breath on me. He grabbed my arm and shoved me into the back of the cruiser. The sirens wailed as we sped down the highway. Suddenly, I saw Kitty’s SUV up ahead in the right lane. I slammed my hands against the wire mesh separating the seats. “There! Look! That’s my car! My whole family is in there. Pull them over! I swear to God, they are alive!” Carter glanced out the window, then glared at me through the rearview mirror. “Stop making a scene. This is an interstate. I can’t just run a random vehicle off the road.” The cruiser blew right past Kitty’s SUV. No matter how raw my throat got from screaming, they completely ignored me. “Call her!” I pleaded. “Call my wife. She’s alive.” Visibly annoyed, Carter pulled out his phone. “Give me the number.” I rattled off the digits. He put it on speaker. It rang and rang, straight to voicemail. Of course. She was driving. She hated highway driving, it terrified her. She was already furious at me, she wouldn’t answer an unknown number right now. “She’s driving,” I said quickly. “Call my mom.” Carter dialed my mom’s number. Voicemail again. Panic clawing at my chest, I pulled out my own phone and called my dad. Nothing. Just endless ringing. Carter ended the call and turned slightly, shooting me a look usually reserved for serial killers. “Anything else you want to add?” 4 What else could I say? I had been screaming that my family was alive, but to them, I was just a madman. We drove in agonizing silence until we reached my hometown. When we turned onto my street, my heart plummeted into my stomach. The entire block was barricaded with yellow crime scene tape. Neighbors clustered in tight groups, whispering. Flashing lights painted the suburban houses in a sickening neon glow. This wasn’t a prank. Joshua didn’t have the money or the brains to stage something this massive. Carter opened the door and hauled me out. “Let’s go. Take a look.” He treated me like a suspect being walked to the gallows. It made my skin crawl. I planted my feet and refused to move. Desperate, I dialed my mom’s number one last time. Before it even connected, my phone buzzed. It was her. I answered it so fast I almost dropped the device. “Mom! Where are you?” “We pulled over at the rest stop to wait for you. Did you honestly think we’d just abandon you on the highway? But seriously, Harry, what is wrong with you today?” Tears blurred my vision. I shoved the phone toward Carter. “Listen! Detective, listen to her! It’s my mom!” Carter narrowed his eyes and took the phone, hitting the speaker button. But the line was completely dead. Silence. Before I could comprehend what just happened, Joshua broke through the police line and sprinted toward me. His eyes were swollen red, his whole body violently shaking. “I told you not to come back! Why are you here? You’re going to get yourself killed!” Carter stepped between us, his gaze locking onto Joshua. “What exactly do you mean by that? Sounds like you know something we don’t.” Joshua threw his hands up defensively. “I don’t know anything, Detective! I swear! I’m just terrified that Harry crossed the wrong people and they came for payback.” “What makes you say that?” Carter pressed. “It’s just a guess,” Joshua stammered. “Harry made a ton of money recently. You don’t get that rich without stepping on a few toes. Right, Harry?” 5 I ignored his passive aggressive bullshit. I pushed past them and walked toward my front door. The whispers from the crowd hit my ears like poison darts. “Look at him. All that money, and for what? His whole family is wiped out.” “Exactly. Coming back for the holidays, acting like a big shot. Promising to fund the new community center, fix the roads. I knew his money was dirty.” “Yeah, probably trying to buy some good karma because of the shady crap he does.” I tuned them out. My chest was tight, my lungs burning. As I approached the porch, the metallic stench of blood hit me like a physical blow. It was so potent my stomach violently heaved. Carter was right behind me. He whispered darkly, “Scared?” Of course I was scared. The video was seared into my brain. But a stubborn part of me still believed the family I left on the highway was real. They couldn’t be inside this house. But reality shattered my delusions the second I stepped into the foyer. It was exactly like the video. Blood had seeped into the hardwood, drying into dark, sticky pools. The air tasted like pennies and terror. My parents were lying on the staircase. They were locked in a desperate embrace, their faces frozen in absolute horror. And their abdomens… they were hollowed out. Jagged, empty cavities where their organs used to be. My knees gave out. I crashed onto the floor, screaming until my vocal cords tore. “Mom! Dad! What did they do to you?” They couldn’t answer. And then I saw her. Little Anna. Her tiny body was crumpled on the rug. One of her eyes was just a dark, empty socket. A heavy hunting knife was buried to the hilt in her chest. The silver blade caught the harsh police lights, reflecting Carter’s predatory face standing just over my shoulder. He didn’t speak. He just waited. My skin turned to ice. “Harry,” he finally said. “Are you sure you don’t have anything to confess?” Confess what? I spun around and grabbed his coat again. “They aren’t dead! Detective, please! Check the highway toll cameras. We left this morning, all of us together. They are sitting at a rest stop right now. Look at the cameras, you’ll see them! I’m begging you!” Carter’s face darkened. He grabbed me by the collar and dragged me out of the house, pulling me toward the detached garage. “You’re still lying,” Carter growled. “Open your damn eyes, Harry. Look at what’s in the driveway.” 6 My brain short-circuited. I blinked hard, trying to clear the illusion. My SUV. The exact same car I had been driving on the highway two hours ago, was sitting right there in the garage. If my car was here, what the hell was Kitty driving on the interstate? Who was inside that vehicle? Carter called Joshua over. “Harry, why are you lying to the cops?” Joshua asked, his voice shaking. “I saw you leave alone this morning. I asked you where everyone was, and you said they wanted to stay a few extra days to enjoy the country air. But ten minutes after you left, I smelled the blood.” Joshua took a step back, looking at me like I was a monster. “Harry… did you…” “Shut the hell up!” I roared, lunging at him before a cop held me back. “That’s my family! What is wrong with you?” Joshua muttered, “You’re the only one left breathing. The math doesn’t add up.” I knew nothing added up. But my truth was entirely different from theirs. Carter dragged me back into the living room. He pointed to a plastic evidence tent in the corner. Beneath it lay Kitty’s severed head. It was a nightmare made flesh. I turned my face away, gagging. But Carter grabbed my jaw and forced me to look. “Open your eyes, Harry. Your family is butchered. Their bodies were harvested. And you’re acting like a man who already knows the script. How are you so calm?” “I’m not calm!” I screamed. “I know these bodies aren’t my family! My real family is in my car, and in a few hours, they’ll be back at our house in the city. Call the city precinct. Send a unit to my house. You’ll see I’m telling the truth!” Carter had had enough. With a sharp click, cold steel clamped around my wrists. He shoved me down so I was eye-level with the tarp. “We know you were a foster kid. We know her parents took you in, and you ended up marrying their daughter to secure your place in this family. So drop the act and tell me why you slaughtered them.” What the hell was he talking about? Why would being an adopted kid mean I’d butcher the people who loved me? And my daughter? Why would I kill my own flesh and blood? I was suffocating under the weight of the accusations. I wanted to grab the knife from the floor and plunge it into my own chest just to prove my innocence. But then, my eyes locked onto Kitty’s ear. A delicate, golden charm dangled from her lobe. A vintage, custom-made lamb. The air left my lungs. I understood. I finally understood everything.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421694”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel