Category: English

The day I went to buy a crib for our unborn child, a strange woman burst into the private viewing room and plunged a knife into my pregnant belly. “How dare you flaunt another man’s bastard in your belly?” she snarled, twisting the handle with a crazed smile. The cold steel pierced my womb, and the agony sent me crumpling to the floor. She crouched down, patting my cheek. “Did you really think a little tramp like you could use a baby to claw your way up? The title of Mrs. Donovan… is it something you can even dream of?” Blood poured from the wound and pooled beneath me. Only then did it all click into place. My husband—the man I had loved for seven years, been married to for three—was really keeping a mistress. “What? Not happy about it?” she gloated. “Even if I kill you right here, with my status as Mrs. Donovan, nothing will happen to me!” Watching her preen, I shakily pulled out my phone and dialed my brother’s number. “Alistair, come get me at the baby boutique.” My voice was terrifyingly calm. “The Donovan family… they have no reason to exist anymore.” … My unborn child was dying inside me. The tiny heartbeat I could once feel through my own skin was fading to nothing. My consciousness blurred as the blood drained from my body, but the searing pain in my abdomen was a cruel anchor, keeping me tethered to the horror of the moment. A cold rage sent shudders through my entire body. I’d heard the rumors, of course—that Donovan was keeping a mistress. But I had given him a chance to come clean. And this was the result. His mistress hadn’t given me a chance. She hadn’t given my baby a chance. For a man like Donovan, who struggled with fertility issues, I thought he, of all people, would understand what this child meant. “Audrey, is it? Does Donovan know you’re doing this?” My eyes were bloodshot as I stared her down. “Did he forget to tell you that if you ever laid a hand on me, my family—the Sinclairs—would make you pay in blood?” The air in the room went still for a beat, then erupted in derisive laughter from her entourage. “Wow, mistresses these days sure are feisty.” “Don’t you get it? She’s pregnant. And Mr. Donovan wants a kid so badly, she thinks she’s hit the jackpot.” The cutting remarks were like a physical assault. Audrey just sneered, looking down at me with a raised eyebrow. “The Sinclairs? In Southcrest, the only name that matters is Donovan.” “It’s hard enough for my Donovan to have children. Who knows whose bastard you’re even carrying?” “As Mrs. Donovan, it’s my duty to clean up his messes!” She kept saying it, over and over. Mrs. Donovan. But if she was Mrs. Donovan, then who was I? I pressed my hands to the gushing wound in my stomach, but the hot blood just streamed through my fingers, staining my skin red. There was no time to regret coming out without my bodyguards. I cast a desperate look at the people around me, silently pleading for help. All I got back were cold stares and mocking smirks. And the whispers. The constant, accusing whispers. They were calling me “the other woman.” Fighting back waves of agony, I met Audrey’s gaze, my own eyes cold and murderous. “I’ll say it again. My name is Sinclair. As in, the Sinclairs.” “You can run, while I’m still deciding whether or not I want you dead.” “What damn Sinclairs!” Audrey’s face contorted with rage. She lifted her foot and viciously kicked my wound with the pointed toe of her designer heel. “In Southcrest, the sky belongs to the Donovans! Who the hell do you think you are, talking to Mrs. Donovan like that!” A blunt, crushing pain exploded through me. A mixture of blood and amniotic fluid gushed from the wound. If this went on any longer, I’d die from an embolism. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Donovan had waited on me hand and foot for eight months, all for this child. And now, because of his child, and his mistress, I was on the verge of death. “I’m going to the hospital. Now. And you will get Donovan on the phone and tell him to get his ass over there. Immediately.” I was done playing games with her. My voice was ice. “Because if something happens to me today, he’ll kill you first.” “And then, he’ll follow me to the grave.” Audrey’s eyes were filled with contempt as she burst into hysterical laughter. After a moment, she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Who in God’s name do you think you are? Demanding my husband come running to the hospital?” As the words left her mouth, she lifted her foot and stomped it down on my stomach. The thin stiletto heel sank into the wound, and her eyes glinted with malice as she ground it back and forth. The gash was ripped open wider. The sharp heel churned my insides. The pain was so intense it felt like my heart was being torn apart. My screams echoed through the room, mingling with Audrey’s maniacal laughter. Just then, the screech of tires tore through the air outside. A dozen Maseratis slammed to a halt in front of the boutique. A relieved smile spread across my face. I clutched the gaping wound in my abdomen. Staring straight into Audrey’s eyes, I enunciated each word with chilling clarity. “Remember this. In Southcrest, the sky belongs to the Sinclairs. Victoria Sinclair.” “Now, my brother is here. Are you ready to die?” 2 “Victoria!” My brother, Alistair, roared my name as he sprinted towards me. He was already shrugging off his bespoke suit jacket, frantically draping it over my body. One arm wrapped around me, holding me tight, while the other pressed down hard on my bleeding stomach. The familiar warmth of his presence was a comfort. “I’m here. Don’t be afraid.” His voice was soft and warm, but when he turned to face Audrey, it dropped to a lethal chill. “You’re the one who did this to my sister?” Audrey was completely unfazed. She shot my brother a scornful look. “Well, well. So protective. Don’t tell me the bastard in her belly is yours?” “Yeah, I’m the one who took care of her. What are you going to do about it? Now I’m going to take care of you and your little lover, too!” The moment the words left her mouth, her bodyguards moved to surround us. Alistair gave a single, sharp look. His own security team surged forward, and in a blur of motion, they had every one of her men on the ground. But as I looked past them, I saw more of Audrey’s men pouring in from outside. My heart sank. “Alistair, why did you only bring a few people?” I asked, a new wave of fear washing over me. “It happened so fast. I was nearby, so I just brought the guys who were with me. Don’t worry, Dad is on his way.” He soothed me patiently. “Let’s see who dares to touch my sister while I’m here.” I relaxed slightly. Then I saw Audrey, gritting her teeth as she looked at her downed men, and pulling out her phone. Her voice instantly became sickly sweet. “Hubby, some people are bullying me! Aren’t you going to do something about it?” “Of course, I will!” Donovan’s voice—so familiar, yet so foreign—crackled from the speakerphone Audrey had deliberately activated. Familiar, because it was unmistakably him. Foreign, because the doting, gentle tone was one I had never heard him use, not even with me. A flash of bitterness cut through me, chipping away at the guilt I felt over my child’s death. Audrey shot a triumphant look at my brother and me, her voice a saccharine whine. “It’s this guy, Alistair Sinclair. He’s already taken out a bunch of my bodyguards, and he’s threatening to kill me!” “I’m so scared, you have to come quick, okay?” “Ali… Alistair Sinclair?” Donovan’s voice went sharp, as if someone had grabbed him by the throat. “Which Alistair Sinclair?! What the hell did you do?!” The string of questions made Audrey’s expression falter. She quickly switched off the speakerphone. But we could still faintly hear Donovan’s enraged shouting. “Stay right where you are! Don’t do anything! Do you hear me? Don’t do a damn thing! I’m on my way!” Audrey mumbled her location and quickly hung up. She took a deep breath, her arrogant smirk returning. “You’re both dead meat! My husband is on his way!” “He said if you end up dead, so be it. We’ll just throw some money at the problem. Who the hell is Alistair Sinclair anyway? Never even heard of him!” With a wave of her hand, her remaining bodyguards swarmed us. My brother’s men, as skilled as they were, were outnumbered. One by one, they fell. A dozen burly men closed in on us. Alistair stood up, shielding me with his body. After just a couple of exchanges, bloody gashes appeared on his arms. Seeing the blood welling from my brother’s wounds, my vision turned red. I struggled to grab the knife that had been dropped on the floor. Staggering to my feet, I lunged at Audrey, who was shouting with glee. She reacted instinctively, shoving me hard. The dagger, which I had managed to plunge into her side, was ripped from my grasp. The pain was even worse than before. Audrey’s screams grew even more shrill. Her bodyguards froze. She clutched her side, her eyes spitting venom at me as I lay on the floor. “What are you all standing there for! Kill them! Kill them!” Her men sprang into action, and a rain of clubs fell upon us. Alistair threw himself in front of me, taking the brunt of the blows. The sickening thud of the weapons hitting his body echoed in my ears. Suddenly, a warm drop of blood landed on my lips. My brother’s body convulsed, and he collapsed on top of me. “Alistair…? Alistair? Wake up…” There was no response. Dazed, I managed to turn my head. I could see blood pouring from a wound on the back of his head. Before I could even process my terror, the bodyguards dragged us to the roof. They bound us tightly and hung us over the side of the shopping mall. Their rough handling tore at the wound in my stomach, and my clothes were soaked with blood. My brother, hanging a few feet away, had a dark, spreading stain on the back of his white shirt. The biting wind kept me conscious. But my unconscious brother just swayed limply in the breeze. A crowd had gathered below, and their jeering accusations drifted up to me. “Heard she’s the mistress, got pregnant by some other guy to try and trap the husband. The wife caught them, so now they’re both getting what they deserve.” “Tsk, tsk. Serves her right. Can’t even be a proper mistress!” I could only keep talking to my brother, hoping my voice would wake him. The minutes stretched on. My own consciousness was fading, and there was still no response from Alistair. Audrey’s arrogant voice echoed from the rooftop. “Oh, still alive?” The sight of her made my blood boil. I clenched my jaw. “Audrey, you better let us down right now. When my father gets here, you won’t be able to handle the consequences.” She just laughed, a wild, unhinged sound, and took a compound bow from one of her men. “Oh, really? Then I’d better hurry up and kill the two of you, so I have some company in hell.” She drew the bow, nocked an arrow, and aimed at my brother’s swaying body. “You know, Donovan and I met at an archery range. You know how good he is, right?” “Unfortunately, my skills aren’t quite as polished.” My heart plunged. The archery range… I had funded it for him. I never imagined it would be the place where he began his affair. The next second, a searing pain shot through me. An arrow was embedded in my shoulder. I bit down hard to keep from screaming. “So annoying. I was aiming for your brother. How did I miss by that much?” The bowstring twanged again. This time, the arrow flew true, piercing my brother’s chest. The agony jolted him awake. He let out a furious roar. Seeing our situation, his eyes blazed with a tangible fury. “Audrey, is it? I swear to you, I will tear you limb from limb!” But Audrey just laughed maniacally, mechanically drawing, nocking, and firing. Alistair thrashed wildly, trying to shield me with his own body. In moments, he was riddled with arrows, his body a canvas of crimson. A choked, gurgling sound escaped his throat. On the rooftop, Audrey seemed to tire, leaning on the railing, panting. Suddenly, my phone, which she had, started ringing. She answered it, confused. Donovan’s frantic voice came through. “Victoria, where are you? I’ll explain everything about Audrey, I promise. Just please, don’t hurt her!” “You don’t want me to hate you for the rest of my life, do you?” I laughed. “Donovan! It’s me and my brother who are about to be killed by your little pet canary!” “And the child you wanted so badly is already gone!” I screamed towards the phone, but the wind snatched my words away. The only voice that carried was Audrey’s, hesitant and suspicious. “Hubby? Why are you calling her?” “Don’t worry, I’ve handled it. But… you might have to pay a little something…” Donovan was silent on the other end. All we could hear was his heavy breathing. A moment later, his furious roar erupted. “Audrey! What the hell did you do to Victoria Sinclair?! Don’t you know who she is? She’s the fucking Sinclair heiress! I…” Audrey abruptly hung up. She frowned, staring at the number on the screen, lost in thought. Her eyes darted back and forth as she muttered to herself. She looked up at my brother, who was on the verge of death, and at me, still struggling. “What damn Sinclairs…” 3 “You’re Victoria Sinclair?” Audrey stood over me on the rooftop where I’d just been hauled back up, her pupils dilating wildly. I gave a cold laugh in response. “What? You believe me now?” “Never seen Donovan that panicked before, have you?” But the next second, her trembling stopped, and a crazed look flashed in her eyes. “Impossible! It’s absolutely impossible!” “I’m Donovan’s wife! I’m the rightful Mrs. Donovan!” She pulled a marriage certificate from her purse and threw it at my chest. “You! You’re just some dirty little secret!” I hesitantly opened the certificate, my brow furrowing. The bright red seal, the clear security watermark, the official serial number. Everything about it screamed that it was real. My mind flashed back to our wedding three years ago. Donovan had insisted on going to the registrar’s office alone, saying he didn’t want me to get tired. I suddenly laughed. Laughed at how stupid I had been. To be fooled for so many years by that piece of trash. I looked up at Audrey, my eyes filled with nothing but boundless hatred. “Perfect. The two of you can be a legitimate couple on your way to hell.” “But you’re the mistress, why are you acting so righteous?” Audrey suddenly shrieked. She was panting, her voice dropping to a low growl. “But… Donovan has never yelled at me before. That’s right. It must be you, you bitch, you’ve bewitched him!” “You knew how badly he wanted a child, so you just found some random guy to knock you up, didn’t you?” “This child can’t be Donovan’s… it’s impossible…” A manic light gleamed in Audrey’s eyes. She snatched the dagger from the ground and raised it high above me. “After I kill the bastard in your belly, you’re next!” As the blade began to fall, I finally realized what she was about to do. I twisted my body, trying to dodge. Seeing my resistance, Audrey screamed, “Hold her down! When she’s dead, Donovan will only love me!” The bodyguards pinned my arms and legs. I watched in horror as Audrey raised the dagger again. “Audrey! You dare—” “Aaargh!” The searing pain of the blade piercing my flesh cut off my words. I could feel the cold steel sawing across my stomach. Waves of tearing agony washed over me, forcing me to stay conscious. The cool wind on my exposed abdomen dropped my body temperature to freezing. I screamed until my voice was raw, then my head fell weakly to the side. I saw my brother, who had been on the brink of death, suddenly stir. He began to crawl towards me, his voice strained. “Victoria… wait for me… I’m… coming to save you…” His eyes were bloodshot with desperation, tears streaming from the corners. With every inch he moved, the arrows embedded in his body pushed deeper. Seeing the trail of blood he left behind, my vision swam with rage. “Alistair! Don’t move! Just go! Leave me!” But he kept crawling, his words growing fainter. “I’m… not leaving… I can’t… watch my sister… suffer…” And I had never seen my brilliant, charming brother so broken and battered… I struggled uselessly against the hands holding me down, regret solidifying in my heart. If… if I hadn’t insisted on marrying that scumbag Donovan. If I hadn’t given him a second chance when I first heard the rumors. My child wouldn’t be dead. My brother wouldn’t be in this state. I turned my head, locking my eyes on Audrey, and screamed with every ounce of strength I had left. “Audrey! You and Donovan will pay for what you’ve done to my brother and my child! You will pay in blood!” But Audrey was lost in her own world. She reached into my sliced-open stomach and grabbed my lifeless child. “This bastard doesn’t even look like Donovan! You lied to him! You all have to die!” “Stop!” Donovan stumbled through the rooftop door, his face turning ashen at the scene before him. The next second, the sky above the rooftop was filled with the roar of dozens of private helicopters. My father, William Sinclair, stood at the open cabin door, looking down at the carnage below. “You dare to touch my children? You’re looking for death!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “407672”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

For six years, Taylor White and I, Caleb Clark, had been together, talking marriage. Then, suddenly, she asked me to wait. She said she had to have a grand wedding with her first love, Leo Hayes, before she could marry me. It was the dying wish of Leo’s mother, who was battling a terminal illness. Taylor couldn’t bear to see the old woman pass with regret, and tearfully promised at her bedside that she would give Leo a home. But she forgot my own mother had also long awaited my wedding. Stunned, I asked her what about me. She impatiently snapped: “Can’t you have some empathy? It’s just two more months. Are you that desperate to get married, like some weak woman?” I told her my mother had a heart condition and couldn’t handle stress. But right in front of me, she booked a marriage registration appointment: “Regardless, the groom for this wedding can only be Leo. Even if your mother can’t wait and actually dies, she’ll have to wait in line for me to marry you!” Watching her resolute back, I dialed home: “Sis, for the wedding in ten days, help me find a different bride!” 1. My sister, Chloe Clark, was shocked to hear I wanted a new bride. “What’s going on with you and Taylor, Caleb? Marriage isn’t a game, and Mom can’t handle that kind of stress!” It was precisely because I knew Mom couldn’t handle the stress that I turned to my sister for help. Fortunately, Taylor and I had dated for six years, and she had consistently refused to meet my parents. Mom only knew I had a girlfriend but never knew who she was. “Sis, I’m serious. Taylor and I can’t get married anymore!” I certainly didn’t want to commit bigamy. I expected my sister to scold me for being thoughtless, but she only paused for a moment before comforting me: “Back when she started seeing you behind my back, I warned you to be careful. If I hadn’t seen how much you liked her, I wouldn’t have even called her my honorary sister! This works out perfectly!” “Actually, before Mom and Dad knew you were dating, they’d already picked out someone for an arranged marriage for you—that girl you mentioned, the one who looks completely enchanted every time she sees you. She’s been waiting for you to break up, and just a few days ago, she even joked that if your wife wasn’t as good as her, she’d crash the wedding…” As soon as my sister mentioned it, I remembered who she meant. My parents had indeed brought it up, but at that time, Taylor and I had already been secretly dating for two years. My heart and mind were completely consumed by Taylor; how could I be willing to marry someone I barely knew? After I hung up the phone, Taylor, consumed by jealousy, kissed me fiercely to assert her claim: “Caleb Clark, you’ll never marry another woman besides me in this lifetime!” With tear-filled eyes, she begged me to grow old with her, finally admitting to my sister that we had secretly pledged ourselves to each other. She let my sister scold her for being a bad woman who had betrayed her trust without a single word of protest. At the time, my sister asked if she had truly moved on from him. Taylor immediately knelt and swore to heaven that she would only love me in this life. Her “lifetime” turned out to be terribly short. The wedding was in ten days; time was pressing. I cut my sister off directly: “Then let her be my bride. No need for a dramatic wedding crash.” The moment I finished speaking, Taylor, who had returned to retrieve her ID, pushed the door open and froze: “Wedding crash? You’re going to crash a wedding?” She glared at me as if I were the enemy: “Caleb Clark, I told you I would marry you, and I will. If you still want to marry me, don’t cause trouble! If you dare to crash and ruin Leo’s and my wedding, don’t blame me if I disown you!” I hadn’t even uttered a word, and she had already imagined me as the villain. 2. Hadn’t she already disowned me when she told me to wait for her wedding with Leo Hayes? For six years, every birthday, she would say we’d marry next year. But every “next year,” she had various reasons to avoid meeting my parents and postpone the wedding. For example, she said I was too young and shouldn’t be constrained by marriage. Or that she wanted her career to be more stable so she could assist my family’s business after marriage. Every reason, she claimed, was for my good. I loved her, so I truly believed she had my best interests at heart, and I constantly tried to placate my sister, who had long wanted to punch Taylor. After six years of waiting, even friends joked that we’d hit the “seven-year itch” before getting married. Only then did she accept my tenth proposal. The date was set, the wedding was being prepared, yet she still refused to meet my parents, saying she wanted to give them a big surprise at the wedding. But then, Leo Hayes returned to the country with his gravely ill mother. That’s when I realized I was a joke. I gave a self-deprecating smile, retrieved Taylor’s ID from the drawer for her: “Don’t worry, I have no interest in other men’s wives.” This statement seemed to sting Taylor. She frowned: “How many times do I have to explain for you to understand? This is just a fleeting, symbolic wedding. Afterward, I’m entirely yours. What more could you want?” “I understand. Go ahead and get your marriage certificate. It’s best to commit fully to the act.” The sincerity on my face made Taylor’s hand, reaching for her ID, tremble. She seemed a little guilty and explained: “I won’t actually register with Leo; it’s just a formality at the civil registry…” A formality also requires an ID? I casually hummed in response. Taylor seemed momentarily lost, taken aback by my unusual behavior. She stepped forward, intending to console me with a kiss. Then, Leo Hayes, who had apparently been listening outside the door for an unknown period, suddenly entered, squeezing between us. His movements were too forceful, and he subtly exerted pressure, pushing me backward. I stumbled, losing my balance, and fell to the ground. He, meanwhile, pulled Taylor, who had almost been knocked over, into his arms. Taylor clung to him tightly, frightened, and the two, pressed close together, uncontrollably tumbled to the floor. I watched coldly as Taylor sat atop Leo, while Leo, his face flushed with embarrassment, said in a voice just loud enough for me to hear: “Taylor, you… you’re hurting me…” Taylor cleared her throat, her cheeks crimson, but her hand remained on Leo’s abs, refusing to move. Leo looked at Taylor, his eyes full of yearning, then feigned helplessness and apologized to me: “Caleb Clark, I’m so sorry. You can hit me or yell at me, just don’t hurt Taylor! If she gets injured…” Not wanting to see the sickening pair still clinging together, I stood up on my own and walked out: “Whether she’s hurt or not, you can check for yourself. Do you need me to close the door for you?” This made Taylor’s passion-flushed face instantly turn a dark shade, whether from holding her breath or anger, I couldn’t tell: “Caleb Clark! How could you be so crude?” Me, crude? She was sitting on Leo, flushed with shyness, refusing to get up. Who was truly crude? I thoughtfully closed the door for them. While waiting for the elevator, Leo, with suspicious moisture on his face, came out and stopped me: “Caleb Clark, I’m sorry, don’t misunderstand Taylor and me. It was truly a misunderstanding! If it weren’t for my mother needing to see the marriage certificate to feel at ease, I wouldn’t trouble Taylor! Please, for my filial piety, don’t cause trouble at the wedding!” 3. “Once the time is up, Taylor and I will divorce, and I’ll give her back to you!” Saying this, he actually tried to kneel before me. Taylor, her face now back to its normal color, immediately rushed over, pulled him up, and glared at me: “Caleb Clark, I’m warning you, don’t overplay your hand and make it irreversible!” “From today until the end of the wedding, you are to stay put at home. I’ll assign a bodyguard to watch you!” With that, she called her assistant, requesting someone be sent to monitor me, to prevent me from causing trouble. Then, she checked the time and, without delay, took Leo to the civil registry. As the elevator doors closed, I didn’t miss the triumph and provocation in Leo’s eyes. Nor did I miss Taylor’s question: “Leo, did you bring your ID?” This wasn’t merely an act for Leo’s mother; it was clearly an act for me. Before her assigned bodyguards arrived, I quickly drove to the bridal shop to pick up the wedding dress. It was a handmade gown I had specially ordered from Italy to marry Taylor. But because she had recently lost a little weight, some parts needed to be altered to be smaller. There was no reason for her to marry someone else while keeping the wedding dress I ordered; it was illogical. To my surprise, when I arrived at the bridal shop, the owner looked puzzled: “Mr. Clark, your fiancée picked up the wedding dress a few days ago! She even brought a man with her to try it on. I wasn’t in the shop at the time…” The owner, seeing my troubled expression, immediately checked the security footage. On the monitor, Taylor, wearing the wedding dress I had ordered, slowly walked towards Leo, who was stunned and captivated: “Leo, do I look beautiful?” Taylor’s face radiated a smile I had never seen before. Leo’s eyes, meanwhile, gleamed with an almost green light: “Beautiful, even more beautiful than you were in my dreams! Taylor, pinch me, let me see if this is a dream. All these years, I could only marry you in my dreams…” With that, he actually choked up. Taylor, her heart aching for him, stood on tiptoes and kissed away every tear from Leo’s face: “Silly, it’s a good thing you came back in time, otherwise I would have married someone else…” The owner, watching the two passionately embracing in the video, apologized to me with extreme embarrassment: “Mr. Clark, I’m so sorry, this was my employee’s oversight… I’ll find an excuse to get the dress back for you right away!” Anyone could tell I had been cheated on, and my wedding dress stolen. The owner, furious, quickly called Taylor. The moment the owner spoke, Taylor erupted in anger: “Did Caleb Clark tell you to demand the wedding dress back? Tell him I’ll wear this dress to marry him; don’t go looking for trouble! If he causes any problems at my wedding to Leo, he’ll regret it!” I never expected Taylor to be so shameless. Why would she think I would still marry her? The owner looked at the beeping phone, embarrassed, and offered me compensation. I believed in dealing with people justly, so I immediately sent a screenshot of the original wedding dress order to Taylor. Taylor’s phone rang immediately: “Caleb Clark, what is the meaning of this? You’re asking for money because I wore the custom dress early? Shouldn’t you feel it’s worth more, having been worn an extra time?” But then, Leo said he wanted to keep the wedding dress as a treasured memory, and Taylor promptly hung up and transferred the money to me. “You quickly find the owner to custom-make another handmade wedding dress for me. It has to be even more beautiful than this one, otherwise, I won’t marry you!” 4. Six years of love, and for the first time, I realized I never truly knew Taylor White. Watching her location marker stop at the civil registry, I expected to feel heartache, but in reality, I felt nothing. I had just turned off the shared location on our couples app when Mr. Jenkins, her assistant, arrived with two bodyguards. “Mr. Clark, as long as you don’t cause trouble, we won’t interfere with your movements!” Mr. Jenkins, who had once been incredibly warm towards me, spoke polite words, but his gaze was full of disdain. I couldn’t be bothered to speak with such a fickle person. After handling my resignation at the company, I drove home. However, the automatic gate to the underground parking couldn’t recognize my car. The security guard checked the system and told me the parking space was now registered to another vehicle. After scanning my way back into the garage, I saw a new car parked in my spot. It was a birthday gift Taylor had said she would give me two months ago. But now, the person getting out of the car was Leo Hayes. He saw me at once but pretended not to, deliberately waving a bright red marriage certificate as he asked Taylor: “Taylor, as soon as the civil registry opens tomorrow, I’ll go with you to file for divorce, so it won’t delay your marriage to Caleb.” Even redder than the marriage certificate were Leo’s eyes. Taylor squeezed his cheek, coaxing him: “Silly, why are you in such a hurry? Caleb won’t marry anyone but me anyway. Even if he has to wait another ten or eight years, he’d be happy to.” I stared at their backs as they walked into the house together, and booked a hotel for myself. Feeling annoyed, I went for my usual run at a nearby park. After completing one lap, I encountered Taylor and Leo, who never liked night runs, strolling hand-in-hand, exchanging sweet nothings. Taylor leaned against Leo, appearing utterly devoted. I had no interest in their romantic words, so I put on my headphones and headed in the opposite direction, unaware that I was being followed. As I was injected with a sedative, my mouth and nose covered, and dragged into a car, I struggled with all my might. But the person choked my neck, refusing to let go. In the reflection of the car window, I saw a face that bore a strong resemblance to Leo. “You dare to steal my son’s woman? You deserve to die!” I waved desperately at Mr. Jenkins in the distance, but he seemed not to see me. He answered a phone call, then drove off with the two bodyguards. The woman behind me possessed incredible strength, not at all like someone terminally ill with only days to live. When I woke again, utterly weak, Leo’s mother lay pale in a pool of blood. Before I could understand what was happening, Taylor and her people kicked open the door. Leo, seeing his mother like this, shrieked: “Mom, what happened? Don’t scare me…” He clutched his mother tightly, roaring at me: “Caleb Clark, what did I ever do to you that you would so cruelly harm my mother? She has only a few days left to live…” Taylor, who suffered from hemophobia, barely dared to look at the pool of blood. But that didn’t stop her from calling an ambulance while simultaneously kicking me hard in the chest: “Caleb Clark, you’ve truly disappointed me!” As she reached for her phone to call the police, Leo stopped her: “Taylor, forget it. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have asked you for help. Now I just want Mom to be safe…” Taylor, enraged, turned her fury on Mr. Jenkins:

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “407688”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

“When is she going to quit?” The voice from the breakroom wasn’t loud, but every word was crystal clear. I stood at the doorway, cup in hand, motionless. “Should be soon. It’s been three months.” “I bet she’s gone by the end of this week. A round of hot pot on it.” “You’re on.” I turned and walked back to my desk. My desk was next to the restrooms, a place with a permanent, 24/7 odor. I sat down, opened my laptop, and continued working on my spreadsheet. No one knew what I had been documenting for the past three months. And no one knew just how long the list I was going to read at the annual meeting would be. 1. My name is Anya, and I’m 32 years old. Three months ago, I was transferred to this branch office with the title of “Specialist.” No specific duties, no clear reporting line, not even an official ID badge. The HR manager’s explanation was: “It’s a transitional period. Just get acclimated for now.” I didn’t ask what “transitional period” meant, nor did I ask what I was supposed to be getting acclimated to. I just swiped in on time every day, sat at my desk, and created spreadsheets that nobody wanted. In the first week, people still said hello. By the second week, the greetings became sparse. By the third week, out of more than twenty people in the department, not a single one looked my way. When I walked over, they scattered. When I sat down, they lowered their voices. When I went to the breakroom, it fell silent. I’m not an idiot. I knew what was happening. But I said nothing. I just came on time, left on time, and did what needed to be done in between. On Monday morning, I discovered my desk had been moved. It used to be by the window. Now, it was next to the restrooms. “Anya,” the young woman from administration said with a sweet smile, “it’s quieter over there. Better for you.” I glanced at her but didn’t say a word. Fine. So be it. I carried my laptop over, arranged my files, and got back to work. The restroom door swung open and closed, releasing waves of unpleasant smells. Someone walked by, covering their nose and snickering. I pretended not to see. At noon, the department went out for a team lunch. I was the last to find out. Or more accurately, I didn’t “find out,” I “discovered.” At 12:30, the entire office was empty. I went to the breakroom for some water and heard laughter echoing from the elevator. Back at my desk, I opened my phone. There was a group photo in the department chat. “Mr. Peterson is treating! Cheers, everyone!” The picture showed a table laden with food, with over twenty people raising their glasses, all smiles. I scrolled through the chat history. No one had tagged me. No one had asked, “Anya, are you coming?” It was as if I didn’t exist. At two in the afternoon, they returned. Veronica, the manager, led the way, her face flushed from the wine. She paused as she passed my desk. “Oh, Anya, you didn’t go to lunch?” I looked up at her. “No one told me.” She froze for a second, then laughed. “Oh, dear. We forgot. Next time, then.” And with that, she walked away. I lowered my head and continued typing. A colleague nearby whispered, “What an act. Still waiting for a personal invitation.” Another one chuckled. “She’s got thick skin. Let her wait.” I didn’t turn around. But I did open a new document. In the first line, I wrote: December 3rd. Department lunch. I was not informed. Participants: Veronica, Mark, Tina… I wrote down every name. Then I saved the document and closed it. And went back to my spreadsheets. At four o’clock, I finished a market analysis report. It was a task I had assigned myself. No one had asked for it, and no one wanted it. But I did it anyway, and I did it meticulously. I sent the report to Veronica, and CC’d the general manager, Mr. Peterson. “Veronica, here is the Q4 market data I compiled, for your reference.” Five minutes later, Veronica replied. “Got it.” Two words. That was it. The next day, I saw my report featured on Mr. Peterson’s social media. His caption read: “Veronica’s team is killing it! This report is incredibly professional!” Below were dozens of likes and comments. “Veronica is a rockstar!” “Stick with Veronica and you’ll go far!” “The data analysis is so detailed. Great work, Veronica!” I scrolled to the cover page of the report. In the author field, my name was gone. It had been replaced with “Veronica’s Team.” I stared at those two words for a long time. Then I opened my document and wrote on a new line: December 4th. My market analysis report was credited to “Veronica’s Team.” Author: Veronica. I saved it and closed it. In the following days, similar incidents piled up. The PowerPoint I made became Tina’s. The data I compiled became Mark’s. The proposal I wrote became the “department’s collective effort.” Every single time, I recorded it. Date, content, people involved. Entry by entry, crystal clear. On Friday afternoon, Veronica called me into her office. “Anya,” she said, sitting back in her chair with her legs crossed. “How long have you been with the company?” “Three weeks.” “And how do you find it?” “It’s fine.” She smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Fine? You think your performance is ‘fine’?” I remained silent. “Anya, let me be blunt,” she leaned forward. “You’re not a good fit for our department.” “Oh.” “Look at you. You don’t socialize, you’re not proactive. You just sit there every day like a block of wood.” “Mm-hmm.” “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” I looked at her and said calmly, “Veronica, what would you like me to say?” She was taken aback for a moment, then sneered. “I’d like you to have some self-awareness. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll write your resignation letter. The company will give you a severance package.” “And if I don’t?” “If you don’t?” She leaned back again. “Then don’t blame me for playing rough.” I stood up. “Okay, I understand.” “Understand what?” “I understand you’re going to play rough.” I turned, walked out, and gently closed the door behind me. Back at my desk, I opened my document and wrote: December 8th. Meeting with Veronica. She suggested I resign and threatened to ‘play rough’ if I refused. Saved. Closed. I glanced at the calendar. Three months to go. That was plenty of time. 2. Starting the fourth week, the isolation escalated. Before, it was just not inviting me to lunch or talking to me. Now, it was— Not notifying me of meetings. My expense reports getting “accidentally” lost. The printer always breaking down the moment I needed to use it. My requests for office supplies were never approved. The stapler I used, I bought myself. The pens, I bought myself. Even the A4 paper, I brought from home. Once, I went to administration to get a notebook. The young woman smiled. “Anya, your request isn’t in the system.” I said, “I submitted it last week.” She shrugged. “Must be a system glitch. Can you submit it again?” I submitted it again. A week later, still no approval. I stopped submitting requests. I went to the convenience store downstairs, bought a pack of notebooks, and used my own. On Wednesday afternoon, I overheard the bet in the breakroom. “I bet she resigns this week.” “I’ll take next week.” “What’s the wager?” “A hot pot dinner, how about it?” “You’re on!” I stood at the doorway, cup in hand, completely still. The people inside hadn’t noticed me. “Seriously, why doesn’t she just leave? She’s so thick-skinned.” “Probably holding out for a payout.” “A payout? Who does she think she is, demanding a payout?” “Exactly. She brought this on herself by not taking the hint.” Their laughter drifted out, grating on my ears. I turned and walked back, my steps light. At my desk, I opened my document: December 11th. Breakroom conversation overheard. Tina, Mark, and Jenna made a bet on when I would resign. Wager: a hot pot dinner. Saved. I looked at the screen and suddenly smiled. Hot pot, huh? Sounds good. I’ll treat you all later. In the afternoon, Veronica struck again. This time, it was a meeting. The department’s monthly meeting, the kind everyone had to attend. Ten minutes before it started, I saw everyone packing up their things. I asked Jenna, who sat next to me, “What meeting is it?” She glanced at me, said nothing, and walked away with her notebook. I caught up to Mark. “What time is the meeting? Which conference room?” Mark didn’t even turn his head. “I don’t know.” I stood there, watching them disappear one by one down the hall. The office was empty. I was the only one left. I checked my email. No meeting invitation. I checked the department chat. Nothing there either. I sat back down at my desk and opened my document: December 13th. Department monthly meeting. I was not notified. After writing that, I thought for a moment and added another line: [Meeting content to be investigated.] Half an hour later, they returned. Veronica was at the front, looking displeased. She paused by my desk. “Anya, why weren’t you at the meeting?” I looked up. “No one notified me.” “We did,” she frowned. “It was posted in the group chat.” “I checked. It wasn’t.” “Well, maybe you just missed it,” she said, a hint of mockery in her voice. I didn’t reply. She said nothing more and walked away. I took out my phone and screenshotted the entire group chat history for the day. There was indeed no meeting notice. Not a single one. I saved the screenshot to my folder. Evidence +1. Friday was my birthday. No one knew, and no one asked. I sat alone at my desk, eating a rice ball from the convenience store, looking out the window. Outside, the sky was a dreary gray, filled with one office building after another. I was 32. Ten years ago, I was a fresh graduate, full of ambition. Five years ago, I was promoted to management, convinced the future was bright. One year ago, I was transferred to this branch, to start all over again. Now, I was sitting next to a restroom, eating a rice ball on my birthday. My phone buzzed. It was an email. Sender: HR. Subject: [Notice of Termination Discussion] I clicked it open. “Ms. Anya Shen, please report to the HR department at 3:00 PM on December 15th for a termination discussion.” I stared at the email for a long time. A termination discussion. They didn’t even bother to speak to me first, just sent an email. I didn’t reply. I just opened my document and wrote: December 13th. My birthday. Received email notice for a termination discussion. After writing, I closed my laptop. I stood up, grabbed my bag, and left. The elevator was empty. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and suddenly smiled. Three weeks. They had no idea who I was. They had no idea why I was here. And they certainly had no idea what was going to happen at the annual meeting in three months. I pressed the button for the ground floor. No rush. Let’s take this nice and slow. 3. On the day of the termination discussion, I arrived on time. The HR manager’s name was Collins. He was in his early thirties, wore glasses, and looked perfectly professional. But his first words told me exactly what kind of person he was. “Anya Shen, right? Have a seat.” I sat. He shuffled some papers and looked up at me. “You’ve been with the company for almost a month now.” “Yes.” “How are you finding it?” “It’s fine.” He smiled, a practiced, corporate smile. “Anya, I’ll be direct. The company is not satisfied with your performance.” “In what way?” “Across the board, really.” He shrugged. “You’re not a team player, not proactive, and your work output is low…” I cut him off. “My market analysis report, the one Mr. Peterson praised on his social media? I wrote that.” He blinked. “That… wasn’t that from Veronica’s team?” “It was credited to Veronica’s team, but I am the original author.” He frowned. “Do you have proof?” I smiled. “Mr. Collins, I’m here today to listen to what you have to say, not to argue with you. Please, continue.” He was momentarily flustered but recovered quickly. “In any case, the company’s position is that we hope you will resign voluntarily. As compensation, we can offer you the standard severance package.” “And if I don’t leave?” “If you don’t leave?” He took off his glasses and wiped them. “Well, that would be more complicated. You know how it is in the corporate world…” He didn’t finish, but the message was clear. Don’t leave, and the harassment will continue. I stood up. “Okay, I understand.” “Think about it and give me your answer tomorrow.” “No need to think about it.” “Oh?” “I’m not leaving.” He stared at me, stunned. I looked him in the eye and said calmly, “Mr. Collins, I will not be resigning voluntarily. If the company wishes to terminate my employment, please follow the proper procedure. Labor laws require written notice stating the grounds for dismissal.” “You…” “And I’d also like to remind you,” I paused, “that I have records of every instance my work has been credited to someone else, and every time I have been deliberately isolated. If the company wants to take this to court, I’m ready.” His face changed. I said nothing more, turned, and walked out. Leaving the HR department, I took a deep breath. Round one was over. Not a win, but definitely not a loss. When I returned to my desk, the atmosphere had shifted. Before, it was like I was invisible. Now, it was— Hostility. Naked, undisguised hostility. The door to Veronica’s office was open. She stood in the doorway, staring at me. Her gaze was like a knife. I pretended not to notice, sat down, and opened my laptop. Five minutes later, she marched over. “Anya.” I looked up. “What did you say to HR just now?” “Nothing much.” “Nothing much?” She sneered. “Did you threaten him?” “I just told him I have evidence.” The look in her eyes changed. “What evidence?” I looked at her and said slowly, “Veronica, for the report you put your name on, I have the original draft. For the meetings you didn’t notify me about, I have screenshots. For my desk being moved next to the restroom, I have photos.” I paused. “Would you like to see?” Her face went white. But only for a second. She quickly regained her haughty composure. “Anya, who do you think you are? You think you can fight me?” “I don’t want to fight you.” “Then what do you want?” I smiled faintly. “I just want to do my job properly.” She stared at me for a few seconds, then snorted and stalked away. I lowered my head and went back to work. But I knew, from this day forward, everything was different. She would get crazier. She would become more reckless. She would use every trick in the book to get me fired. I wasn’t afraid. This was exactly what I was waiting for. The bigger the scene she made, the more evidence I would have. And the more evidence I had, the longer the list I would read at the annual meeting. I opened my document. It was already several pages long. Date, incident, people involved, source of evidence. Every entry was clear and precise. I scrolled down and saw the very first entry. The one I wrote on my first day. I knew back then what would happen. Because before I even arrived, I had done my homework. This branch had been at the bottom for performance for three years straight. This department had had issues with expense reimbursements for two consecutive years. This manager, Veronica, had a salary of over a million dollars, but her performance was practically zero. Headquarters had wanted to make a move for a long time. They just didn’t have the proof. So they sent me. Ostensibly as a “Specialist.” In reality— I am the Head of the Corporate Audit Team. I didn’t come here to be fired. I came here to fire them.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “407673”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My sister, Sophie, had this uncanny ability to be everyone’s favorite. Family, strangers—it didn’t matter. No one was immune. One complaint from her about needing a room to practice her dancing, and just like that, I was shipped off to the school dorms. Through the haze of my insecure and sensitive teenage years, Jax was my only lifeline. So when I heard Sophie was transferring to our school, a knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t even hear the final bell. A lazy grin on his face, Jax tapped me on the head. “That scared I’ll get snatched away?” “Shit, who the hell isn’t watching where they’re going…” The next second, Jax’s cursing died in his throat. My sister was standing there, bathed in sunlight, smiling right at him. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I bumped into you.” The next day, I went to find Jax in his classroom for our usual tutoring session. But then I heard his laid-back voice drift out. “Tsk, her sister’s not as bad as she makes her out to be.” “Kinda cute, actually.” 1 The chatter and laughter from the classroom carried on. I stood at the back door, my vision blurring as I slowly blinked. A tear escaped, hitting the tiled floor with a soft splat. “Sophie’s not as bad as Ivy makes her out to be.” Jax’s voice was casual, punctuated by a soft click of his tongue. “Kinda cute, actually.” My knuckles turned white as I clutched the notebook in my hand. His friends immediately started hooting. “Known her for one day and you’re already an expert?” “Shut up, man.” Jax laughed, aiming a light kick at the guy’s leg. “She bumped into me yesterday, spilled her bubble tea all over my uniform.” “She went out of her way to add me on Insta this morning to send me money for the dry cleaning.” The laughter in the room grew louder. “Ooh, I bet she just thought you were hot. A different guy wouldn’t have gotten the same treatment…” “Wait, so does that mean you accepted her follow request?” “Hahahaha, since when does our ‘Campus King’ Jax add girls?” Just yesterday in the hallway, Sophie had smiled and said, “Any friend of my sister’s is a friend of mine! It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Sophie.” Jax had pointedly ignored her outstretched hand, letting her smile freeze on her face. “I’m your sister’s friend. That’s all.” That evening, as he walked me back to my dorm, he’d been so proud of himself. “Ivy, see? I’m always on your side. Anyone you don’t like, I won’t have anything to do with them. Promise.” The lamplight was a dim yellow, but his eyes shone brighter than stars. In that moment, I truly believed the nightmare that had haunted me for years was finally over. But now, reality had just slapped me across the face. I scrambled to wipe my tears away, turning to leave. But I moved too quickly. A pen slipped from my pocket, clattering onto the floor. The conversation inside the classroom stopped cold. I bent down to pick it up, my fingers just brushing against the cool plastic when Jax rushed out. “Ivy?” “How long have you been here?” Jax had beautiful eyes—almond-shaped, with a slight upward tilt at the corners. I used to love sketching them. But looking at them now, they felt like a stranger’s. “Just got here.” I pulled my hand back, my voice so calm it surprised even me. “You guys seemed busy catching up. Didn’t want to interrupt.” “You’re being too sensitive.” Jax ran a hand through his hair, a rare flicker of panic on his usually carefree face. “She was just being persistent this morning, insisting she had to pay me back. I figured if I just took the money, that would be the end of it, and we wouldn’t have to deal with any misunderstandings.” “So it’s over now.” I looked him straight in the eye, enunciating each word. “If I asked you to delete her, right now, would you do it?” Jax’s expression froze, then hardened with a flicker of annoyance. “Ivy, don’t be like that. Just deleting someone out of the blue? How awkward is that? She was just trying to apologize. Is it really that big of a deal?” Is it really that big of a deal? Those words were like a dull knife, carving me up piece by piece, leaving me a bloody mess. Something inside me shattered. I slowly pulled my hand from his grasp, my voice barely a whisper. “Yes, it is.” The situation was laughable, but I couldn’t bring myself to smile. Tears started falling, hot and fast, and I couldn’t stop them. Jax was stunned. He reached out, about to wipe them away. “Ivy, I’m sorry, I messed up…” Before he could finish, another voice cut in. Sophie was coming up the stairs. Her hair was in a high ponytail today, bouncing in the sunlight, looking painfully bright. “Jax!” She jogged over, her smile sweet as sugar. “Thank you so much for agreeing to tutor me! I just transferred and don’t know anyone. I was so scared…” Her gaze landed on me, paused for a beat, then her eyes crinkled into another smile. “Oh, is Ivy here for tutoring too? Perfect, we can study together!” My head snapped up, my eyes wide with disbelief as I stared at Jax. A chill washed over me. Jax was a top student, but he was also known for his pride. Teachers had often asked him to share his study methods or help struggling students. He’d turned every single one of them down. Except for me. All this time, I had cherished that special treatment, thinking it was just for me. But for Sophie, it was just another thing she could have for the asking. Seeing my silence, Sophie’s voice softened. “We’re sisters. You wouldn’t mind, would you, Ivy?” My whole body was trembling with emotion. I took a deep breath and said evenly, “I mind.” Sophie’s eyes instantly welled up with tears, her expression a mask of confusion. “Ivy, are you mad at me?” “Then… then I won’t do it. Just please, don’t be mad.” Jax stepped in front of her, his brow furrowed. “Ivy, she was a dancer before this. Her grades are really bad, and switching to this academic track now… she really needs the help.” So, he already knew that much about her. “Then she can get a private tutor.” My voice started to shake. “Why does it have to be you?” “Ivy, please don’t be angry…” A single, perfect tear rolled down Sophie’s cheek. “I won’t do it, really. I don’t want you two to fight because of me.” She clutched her textbooks and ran off, her steps frantic. Maybe because she was in such a hurry, she stumbled on the stairs. “Ah!” Sophie clutched her ankle, her face twisted in pain. Jax instinctively moved to go after her. I called out to him, my voice firm. “Jax, if you go after her right now, we are done. For good.” Jax stopped and turned back to look at me. My eyelashes fluttered, a tiny spark of hope igniting in my chest. But he just let out a cold laugh, his eyes filled with disgust. “Ivy, no wonder even your own parents don’t like you.” The hallway suddenly felt vast and empty. A draft blew through, and I shivered. The notebook had fallen from my hand at some point. It lay open on the floor, its pages flipping in the wind, revealing the math problems Jax had stayed up all night to organize for me. I knelt to pick it up, my vision so blurry I couldn’t make out the words. A tear splashed onto the page, spreading into a wet, circular stain, like a faded memory. I guess that’s what Jax and I were now. Just a watermark. Soon to dry up, leaving nothing behind. 2 I stumbled back to my classroom in a daze. I couldn’t help it; I collapsed onto my desk and wept. My shoulders shook with each sob. I don’t know how long I cried. Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the back of the room. Startled, I shot upright. In the last row, a pair of long, pale fingers pushed aside a school uniform that had been draped over a desk. A cool, sharp-featured face was revealed. Rowan. The genius who perennially held the top rank in our year, and Jax’s sworn rival. He always slept in the back of the classroom but still managed to beat Jax on every single exam. “So damn loud.” Rowan sat up, the uniform sliding into his lap. His voice was raspy, thick with sleep. “S-sorry…” I hastily wiped away my tears. “I didn’t see you there…” Rowan didn’t respond to my apology. Instead, he stared at me for a few seconds before speaking slowly. “What are you doing here? Don’t you usually go to Jax for tutoring around this time?” I froze. How would Rowan know about that? He was a total loner, never paying attention to anyone else’s business. Once, our homeroom teacher asked him to collect names for a competition. He glanced at the sign-up sheet and said flatly, “Who’s this?” “In our class? Oh. Don’t recognize them.” But his family was so prominent that even the principal greeted him warmly. No one at school dared to gossip about him. “How did you know…?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “The so-called ‘Campus King’ practically lives in our classroom. It’s not exactly subtle.” “The gossip is everywhere. Hard not to know.” Rowan’s tone was flat, impossible to read. “So, why the tears? Because he’s not tutoring you anymore?” I looked down, unsure how to answer. “Yeah…” “He’s only second in our year. What’s so great about that?” Rowan raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with his usual indifference. “With his level of understanding, what could he possibly teach you?” It was such an arrogant thing to say that I couldn’t help but retort, “You’re first in our year, of course you don’t care…” “Then I’ll tutor you.” “What?” I blinked, sure I had misheard him. Rowan stood up and walked over to my desk. He was tall, even taller than Jax. Standing beside me now, he cast a long shadow over my desk. Looking up at him this close, I realized how strikingly handsome he was. If it weren’t for his anti-social nature, the title of ‘Campus King’ probably would have gone to him, not Jax. “I said, I’ll tutor you.” Rowan looked down at me, repeating himself slowly, deliberately. “R-really?” I felt like I’d just won the lottery. I was completely stunned. “But on one condition.” Rowan leaned down slightly, bringing his face level with mine. His eyes were unique—not almond-shaped like Jax’s, but long and narrow, with a faint mole at the outer corner. “What condition?” “From now on, the breakfast you bring for Jax, you bring for me.” Rowan spoke slowly, as if observing my reaction. “Oh, and the water you bring him after his basketball games? That’s for me now, too. Basically…” He paused, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a barely-there smile. “From now on, you’re my sidekick.” It wasn’t a difficult request. And it worked out perfectly, since I had no intention of having anything to do with Jax ever again. “Okay.” I heard myself agree. “I promise.” “Tomorrow morning. Cafeteria, second floor, window three. The breakfast sandwich.” He turned and started walking toward the classroom door, his tone cool. He paused at the doorway and glanced back at me. “And get milk. I don’t drink soy milk.” “Mission accepted.” I gave him a solemn nod. 3 The next morning, I was stopped just as I was leaving the cafeteria with breakfast in hand. Jax had dark circles under his eyes. He clearly hadn’t slept well. “Ivy,” he said, his gaze falling to the bag in my hand. His brow relaxed slightly. “I knew you wouldn’t stay mad at me…” “I was wrong yesterday. I said some harsh things.” As he spoke, he reached for the bag as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “This isn’t for you.” I sidestepped, moving the bag out of his reach. Jax’s hand froze mid-air, the expression on his face stiffening. “What did you say?” “It’s for Rowan.” I looked him in the eye, my tone perfectly even. Jax’s expression shifted from confusion to disbelief. After a moment, he let out a cold laugh. “Ivy, are you done with this little tantrum?” “Do you have any idea what the doctor said yesterday? Sophie’s sprain was serious. If she hadn’t gotten to the hospital when she did, she might not have been able to dance properly ever again.” He sighed in frustration, his tone softening a little. “So, in that situation, I would’ve helped a complete stranger. Can you just stop overthinking it?” “You can help whoever you want. You don’t need to explain it to me.” “The food’s getting cold. I have to go.” “Ivy.” Jax grabbed my wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. “Stop joking around. Rowan? Everyone knows he’s arrogant as hell, not to mention his family background.” His fingers tightened, digging into my skin. It hurt. “There’s no way he’d ever give you the time of day…” Before Jax could finish, a cool voice cut him off. “What’s taking so long?” Rowan had appeared out of nowhere. His eyes were fixed on the hand Jax had clamped around my wrist. The morning light outlined his tall frame. His usually distant face was expressionless, but it radiated an unexpected pressure. Rowan casually took the bag from my other hand, completely ignoring Jax. “Did you do the problems I sent you last night?” It took me a second to process. “Y-yes, I did.” “Good. Give them to me.” Rowan held out his hand. “I’ll correct them during morning study hall.” “Come find me after class to get them back. I want them revised before school ends. I’ll go over them with you then.” I immediately started digging through my backpack as I fell into step beside him. “Here.” I pulled out the neatly completed worksheet and handed it to him. Rowan took it, his eyes scanning the page. “Hmm, not bad. You got most of the multiple-choice questions right.” He turned, then glanced back at me after a few steps. “What are you waiting for? Study hall is about to start.” “Oh, right!” I hurried to catch up, ready to learn. “But for the long-form problems, I’m still a little fuzzy on that type of derivative question, especially the second part…” Jax stood frozen in place, his face ashen as he watched the two of us walk away together. 4 The final bell rang, but I was still staring blankly at my physics worksheet. Rowan sat across from me, his red pen flying across the page, leaving a trail of precise marks. He read through the problems incredibly fast, but every correction was scarily accurate. “Your force analysis is wrong,” he said, tapping my paper. “Right here. Gravity and the normal force aren’t a balanced pair. You forgot friction.” “Got it…” I quickly started making the correction. The classroom door opened quietly. Sophie stood in the doorway, her eyes red and puffy. She was wearing a pale pink dress that made her skin look incredibly fair. She had her school uniform, but she never seemed to wear it. “Ivy,” she said softly, “can I talk to you for a second?” My hand paused, then I went back to my work. Sophie bit her lip and walked in anyway, stopping by my desk. “Ivy, I’m so sorry about yesterday. I didn’t know you didn’t want me asking Jax for help… Can you forgive me?” The tip of my pen stalled, bleeding a small black dot onto the paper. “You’ve said what you wanted to say. You can go now,” I said without looking up. “I’m studying.” “I’m not leaving until you forgive me.” Sophie stood her ground, her voice catching with a sob. “Then you can stand there all day.” My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. The room was quiet except for the scratch of my pen on paper and the soft rustle of Rowan occasionally turning a page. The minutes ticked by. Sophie must have been getting tired of standing. She suddenly turned to Rowan, her eyes glistening. “Rowan, have we met before?” Rowan didn’t reply, but she wasn’t deterred. “Can you help me convince my sister? I just really want her to forgive me…” At the sound of his name, Rowan looked up. My heart gave an odd little squeeze. A hopeful light flickered in Sophie’s eyes. Then, Rowan spoke flatly. “Move. You’re in my light.” Sophie’s expression froze solid. I blinked, a strange feeling stirring in my chest. Outside, the sky was growing dark. The security guard came by on his rounds. “Still studying? C’mon, time to go home. I’ve gotta lock up.” I only just realized it was almost eight o’clock. “That’s enough for today.” Rowan packed up his books and pulled a packaged pastry from his bag, holding it out to me. “It’s late. Eat this for now.” He was surprisingly thoughtful, completely at odds with his cold exterior. “Thanks…” I started to reach for it. Suddenly, Sophie swayed, grabbing the desk for support. Her face was pale. “I… I stood for too long, and I haven’t eaten… I think my blood sugar is low…” She looked at the pastry in Rowan’s hand. “Um… could I have that? I feel really sick…” Rowan looked at me. “It’s yours. Your call.” I didn’t quite understand. “She’s asking you,” Rowan repeated patiently. “If you want to give her the pastry.” I turned to Sophie with a fake smile, my voice clear and calm. “Oh. I’m not obligated to give it to you.” A crack appeared in Sophie’s carefully constructed expression. “But… but I really don’t feel well…” She didn’t give up, turning her pleading eyes back to Rowan. “Don’t you have another one? I promise I’ll pay you back tomorrow…” Rowan zipped up his backpack and said, without a trace of emotion, “Sorry. I’m a germaphobe.” A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. Sophie’s face flushed red, then went pale. Finally, she stormed out in a huff. Now it was just me and Rowan in the classroom. “Tomorrow, I want the shumai from the first cafeteria.” Rowan’s expression was neutral. “Rowan.” I called out to him. “Thank you.” He turned back, raising an eyebrow. “For what?” “Nothing,” I smiled, hugging the pastry to my chest. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “407674”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

While I was preparing our seventh-anniversary dinner, Renee suddenly told me she wanted a divorce. “Arthur has depression, and I need to be with him for his treatment.” “We’ll remarry in a year.” In my past life, I waited for her, year after year, only to learn she was pregnant and remarrying her childhood friend. I crashed the wedding, questioning her hysterically. But it only led to her endless revenge and torment. In the end, my family went bankrupt. My parents died, one gone, one driven mad. Even I was thrown into the ocean by creditors, my body never found. Reborn, I didn’t argue or make a scene. I took off my apron and quickly packed my bags. When I went downstairs, she stood with her arms crossed, a look of mockery on her face. “You don’t have to pretend to be so eager. I’m not falling for that playing-hard-to-get act.” “Since I promised we’d remarry, we will.” My hand paused briefly as I signed the divorce papers, then continued quickly and steadily. I was indeed eager, but not to get her attention. It was because I had already signed a top-secret project. From now on, I would disappear completely from her world. 1 As I signed, my mind flashed back to the classified documents I’d signed three days prior. “Adam, you need to be absolutely sure. This isn’t just any confidential project.” “Once you join, all your information will be completely erased.” “Adam Reynolds will cease to exist in this world.” My feelings when signing then were the same as now: calm, resolute, and without hesitation. The last letter, and a heavy weight in my heart, settled together. I handed the agreement to Renee, who stood nearby. “It’s signed.” Seven years of marriage, and the woman’s allure had only grown. Now, however, it held a hint of shattered cruelty. “Adam Reynolds, don’t you have anything to say?” In my past life, I was the one who asked that question. Renee back then had been utterly annoyed and indifferent. “Arthur has a delusional disorder and sees me as his whole world. Only a divorce can calm him down.” “You can choose not to sign, but I have my ways.” My past heartbreak had transformed into present composure. I shook my head. Renee snatched the agreement, her grip so fierce it seemed she meant to rip it apart. She clenched the pen, its tip hovering, reluctant to descend. A scene flashed in my mind. I immediately took off my wedding ring, worn for seven years, and placed it next to the document, adding casually. “I don’t want the car, the house, or the company shares. They’re all yours.” In my past life, to avoid divorce, I had manipulated the assets. When Renee discovered this, she hired the top lawyers from a prestigious firm to fight the case. It left me with nothing, stripped bare. Now, I wanted none of it. Besides, I no longer had the time to divide assets with Renee. Better to make a clean break. The woman let out a cynical laugh. “Fine, Adam Reynolds. You’ve got nerve.” She gripped the pen, barely making a mark, then abruptly looked up. “I’m not cooking. Go make Arthur his favorite black chicken soup.” “Once the soup’s ready, I’ll sign.” My heart, which had been steady, now leaped into my throat. I was somewhat puzzled. Renee not only knew how to cook, but she was an excellent chef. However, in the seven years I had cooked for her, I never knew this. Because she only cooked for Arthur. I took a deep breath and turned into the kitchen. Renee followed close behind. The seafood soup she loved was still simmering in the pot. Now, it was all poured down the drain. She stood by, casually directing me. “Arthur doesn’t like chunky radishes, chop them finer!” “Go easy on the pepper, Arthur’s stomach has been sensitive lately; he can’t handle spicy food.” Once, I had hoped she would understand me as intimately as she did Arthur. But when I was rushed to the hospital for the tenth time, throwing up violently after eating the chestnut dessert she bought, She remained completely unconcerned. “You’re allergic to chestnuts? Really? How would I know? Did you ever tell me?” A pang of sorrow passed. I turned the heat to maximum, wishing the soup would be ready immediately so I could finally break free from Renee. Two hours later, I placed the freshly made soup on the table, then turned to take off my apron. Renee, after taking just one sip of the soup, suddenly slammed the bowl onto my back. “You were trying to poison Arthur, weren’t you?!” 2 Soup drenched my back, the scalding pain reaching deep into my heart. I flinched from the sudden agony, turning back inexplicably. Renee’s face was filled with fury. “I’ve told you a hundred times, Arthur breaks out in a rash every time he eats Szechuan peppercorns.” “I think you did this on purpose. No wonder you seemed so indifferent earlier. You wanted to use this as an opportunity to hurt Arthur!” I clenched my fists, taking a deep breath. Just as I was about to explain that she hadn’t mentioned the allergy at all, she suddenly stood up, grabbed her bag, and walked out without a backward glance. “I’ll give you two more hours. Make the soup and bring it to the hospital.” “Don’t let me catch you playing petty games again.” I grabbed the divorce agreement and chased after her, only catching the fumes of her car. After a long while, I returned to the kitchen, starting the soup again. Before leaving, I had to finalize the divorce. I couldn’t give Renee any chance to find me. While the soup simmered, I opened my social media. The first post was from Arthur. He had shared a photo of the new car Renee bought him. A flashy red, with even the license plate number thoughtfully set to his birthday. [Whatever I want, she always gets it for me immediately.] I stared at the words, a long-buried wound in my heart aching faintly. In my past life, Renee, who was never interested in cars, suddenly asked me to buy her one. After I gifted her the car, she never brought up remarrying. Unable to bear it, I went to find her. I happened to catch her and Arthur kissing passionately in the new car. My own clown-like, bitter smile was reflected in the car window. At the time, she was still lying to me, saying that appropriate physical contact would speed up Arthur’s recovery. Thinking about it now, it was so ridiculous. I had actually chosen to believe her because I was too afraid of losing her. Two hours later, I arrived at the hospital on time, carrying the soup and the agreement. The autumn evening was chilling, with a biting wind. Renee’s phone kept going straight to voicemail. I rubbed my frozen hands, then resolutely headed upstairs, stopping outside the VIP room. Inside the room, Renee was sitting by the bed, peeling an apple for Arthur, her voice tender in a way I had never heard. “Adam and I are divorced. You focus on getting better, I’ll stay with you.” My hand, poised to knock, fell. A pang of emptiness settled in my heart. I sat on a nearby bench. A moment later, Renee finally emerged from the room. The moment she saw me, the tenderness on her face instantly transformed into fury. She anxiously pulled me away. “Adam Reynolds, you came here on purpose to provoke Arthur, didn’t you?” “Get out, don’t appear in front of Arthur!” I shook the soup container, then produced the divorce agreement. “I came to bring Arthur his soup, and also, you haven’t signed this yet…” Renee raised her hand and knocked over the soup container, her anger intensifying. “You want to divorce me that badly?!” As she spoke, Arthur walked out of the room. The moment he saw me, his face turned deathly pale, his lips trembling. “Adam, are you here to take Renee away from me?” He suddenly knelt down, pleading desperately. “Adam, please don’t take Renee away. I truly can’t live without her!!” “If she leaves, what reason do I have to live?!” “I might as well just die right now!” Renee pulled him up, looking at me as if I were her sworn enemy. “Adam Reynolds, are you satisfied now?” “Apologize to Arthur immediately! Swear you’re not here to take me away. Hurry up!” This absurd scene made me chuckle involuntarily. “Renee, can you please be reasonable?” Indifference spread across the woman’s eyes. She waved a hand towards the distance. Two burly bodyguards stepped forward resolutely, one gripping each of my arms and legs, forcefully pushing me down. Excruciating pain shot through me. My legs trembled uncontrollably, and with a thud, I slammed hard onto the floor. The moment my dignity was trampled, a chill pierced my heart. This wasn’t the first time I had knelt for Arthur. 3 The first time was in my past life. I crashed into the wedding venue, hysterically demanding to know why Renee had lied to me. She shielded Arthur behind her, her eyes filled with annoyance. “Why so many questions?” “When love is gone, it’s gone. Now, even looking at you for a second annoys me.” I stood frozen, stiff all over. Arthur had another episode, collapsing on the floor, convulsing. Renee blamed everything on me. Under her relentless pressure, our family factory soon went bankrupt and closed down. My father, burdened with tens of millions in debt, collapsed and jumped from a building. My mother witnessed it all, suffered a severe shock, and had a mental breakdown. In my darkest despair, I knelt before Renee, begging her for mercy. She pointed to Arthur, lying unharmed in the hospital bed. “The person you owe an apology to isn’t me, it’s Arthur.” My dignity and self-respect were utterly gone. I numbly kowtowed, head after head. But I never received any mercy from Renee. In the end, unable to repay the enormous debts, I was thrown into the icy sea by creditors. At the same time, Renee was on a cruise ship, watching fireworks with Arthur. The pain of my past life surged back, suffocating and despairing. I stopped struggling, numbly kneeling on the ground. “I swear to God, from this day forward, I will never approach Renee again.” The kind of solemn vow I once couldn’t utter, now came as easily as drinking water. Arthur instantly calmed down. But Renee’s face remained clouded with anger. She frowned, utterly impatient. “Now, get out!” The bodyguards released their hold. I stood up, picked up the agreement, and dusted it off. “You sign this.” Arthur, who had just calmed down, suddenly went wild again, snatching a small knife from a bodyguard’s belt, his eyes bloodshot. “So you two aren’t divorced yet?!” “Renee, you’ll go back to him anytime, leave me, won’t you?!” “Renee, if I can only have you for a short time, I’d rather just die now!!” He was frantic, the small knife hovering inches from his arm’s artery. Scarlet blood trickled down, and Renee was terrified. “Arthur! Don’t do this!!” “I’ll divorce him, I’ll divorce him right now!” The woman who had just been hesitant signed resolutely, then forcefully threw the agreement at my forehead. “Get out!” Blood dripped into my eye. I clutched the agreement as if it were a treasure. I felt no pain, only immense relief. After one last glance at Renee, I left the hospital without looking back. While waiting for a car, I received a call from my parents. They already knew I would be leaving. Though reluctant, they were very supportive. As their familiar words of caution rang out, my eyes welled up uncontrollably. My father’s dying words from my past life echoed involuntarily in my ears. “Adam, after I’m gone, you must take good care of your mother…” At the same time, Mother texted me, saying she was bringing sparerib soup to the factory. “Adam, as long as our family is together, even if the sky falls, it’s not a big deal.” In my past life, before I died, I visited Mother at the nursing home. She held my hand, her expression dazed. “Adam, the sparerib soup is ready. Remember to take it to your father.” “He loves that the most, you know.” In this life, I wanted nothing. Only for my parents to be safe and healthy. The call ended, and I took a deep breath. Just then, the car picking me up arrived. As I prepared to step forward, a sharp pain shot through my back. Then, I lost consciousness. 4 When I woke, I was lying face down on an operating table. Renee and the doctor’s conversation chilled my heart, inch by inch. “Ms. Vance, skin graft surgery without anesthetic is no different from torture. Perhaps…” “I said no anesthetic means no anesthetic. Pain will teach him a lesson, so he won’t intentionally provoke Arthur again.” “Hurry up with the surgery. Arthur hates scars on his body the most.” I wanted to struggle, but my body felt paralyzed. The cold scalpel sliced across my back, the distinct pain piercing my very bones. The air was thick with the smell of blood, making me nauseous several times. More than once, the pain was so intense I blacked out. When I next awoke, I was in a hospital bed, my back burning with fiery pain. Renee sat by the bed, her fingertip pausing at the corner of my eye, her gaze complex. “Was it that painful? You were crying even in your coma.” My eyes were like stagnant water. “Don’t touch me.” Renee, unusually, wasn’t angry, her tone confident. “Stop being so dramatic. It’s just a divorce for a year. Are you really that dependent on me?” Before I could speak, an assistant appeared at the door. “Ms. Vance, Mr. Maxwell is awake.” The woman rose and left without hesitation. I calmly pulled out my phone. The latest message was from my project team leader. [Adam, the car picking you up is at the hospital entrance. Why haven’t you come down?] I immediately replied. [Teacher, I’ll be right down.] I changed my clothes and resolutely left. But as I went downstairs, I saw the one person I least wanted to see. Arthur had shed his previous erratic behavior, his eyes now full of scorn. I ignored him, wanting only to leave quickly. As we brushed past each other, the man scoffed. “A defeated opponent, nothing more.” My fists immediately clenched. “What did you say?” Arthur became even more arrogant. “I said, I’m seeing a useless man like you for the first time!” “I really don’t know what Renee ever saw in you. Do you even deserve to marry such a wonderful woman as Renee?” “You don’t know yet, do you? You and Renee actually had a child once.” I froze, Arthur’s wild voice piercing my eardrums again and again, leaving them raw and bleeding. “But she promised me that her first child could only be mine, so she quietly aborted that child.” “I told her to tell you she was just tired from work, that her face looked bad, and you actually believed her, even massaging her and washing her feet every night.” “How pathetic are you?” “I heard your dad has a weak heart. What if I send him those photos and videos of Renee and me? Would he die of anger?” Arthur shook his phone, utterly pleased with himself. My rage completely ignited. I grabbed his arm and slammed it hard against the wall. “You’re looking for death!” Arthur looked up, pouting. “Coward, go ahead and hit me if you dare!” Hatred surged through my chest, no longer containable. I raised my fist, just about to strike. From the end of the corridor, Renee’s scream echoed. “Adam Reynolds, stop it!!” Bodyguards rushed over, one seizing the fresh wound on my back. I gasped sharply and fell directly to the ground. Arthur cradled his bleeding arm, whining. “Renee, I just came to tell Adam to stop bothering you, but he suddenly hit me.” “He even threatened me, saying if I tried to seduce you again, he’d kill me!” I struggled to lift my head, looking at Renee’s utterly disgusted face, and roared. “Renee, don’t listen to his nonsense! I didn’t!” The woman’s gaze turned cold as she looked at the bodyguards. “Hit him! Keep hitting him until he breaks!” Countless fists rained down on me like meteors. The wound on my back quickly reopened, blood soaking through my shirt. I curled up on the ground, my internal organs feeling displaced, my mouth full of blood. After an unknown period, Renee finally called for a stop. Just as I thought she had relented, she raised her high heel and savagely ground it into my right hand. “Just now, you used this hand to hurt Arthur, didn’t you?” “Break this hand!” A bodyguard grabbed my right arm and, with effortless force, bent it downward. The crisp snap of bone traveled along my marrow to my heart. It sounded precisely like the discordant notes that fell when Renee taught me to play the piano years ago. “Adam, this is my favorite piece. When you learn it, will you play it for me?” Now, the music had ended. And we, too, should part ways. “Arthur! Wake up, don’t scare me!” “Call a doctor, quickly!” I lifted my bloodied face, watching Renee’s retreating back. All love and hate transformed into smoke, completely dispersing. I stood up, unable to tend to my broken right hand, and limped out of the hospital. After getting into the car, I snapped my phone’s SIM card and tossed it out the window. The car drove north, never stopping again.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “407675”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My grandfather was the richest man in the nation of A, and I was his only grandson. Yet, my two elder sisters allowed their shared lover to impersonate me. Just before the grand centennial celebration of the corporation was to begin, Marcus Thorne quickly took the seat reserved for the heir of the enterprise. He then put on an act for me. “Oh, if only my sisters hadn’t insisted I bring you along to see the world, a poor student like you would never step foot inside the Zenith Group’s doors.” “Remember to be smart later. Don’t cause any trouble for me, or my sisters will beat you to a pulp.” In my past life, threatened by my sisters, I was timid and weak, always tolerating Marcus. But now, I had been reborn. Watching Marcus, who was still spouting nonsense, I directly kicked him, sending him flying three feet away. “What are you? A kept man dares to lecture me!” 1 My audacious actions immediately drew everyone’s attention. My elder sister rushed over, her face etched with concern, cradling Marcus in her arms. My second sister raised her hand and slapped me twice. Seeing their beloved kept man, whom they had pampered for years, sent flying by my kick, both sisters were utterly distraught. They simultaneously glared at me, seething. “Ethan Caldwell, you must have a death wish, daring to lay a hand on our little brother!” Looking at my two aggressive sisters, I realized how foolish I had been in the past to ever fantasize about them having sisterly affection for me. I pointed at Marcus, who was still being cradled by them, and scoffed loudly. “He’s just a kept plaything you both secretly fund. Am I, the legitimate heir of this corporation, the grandson of the richest man, not entitled to hit him?” Hearing my words, my elder sister instantly bristled with anger and shoved me backward to the floor. “Ethan Caldwell, Marcus generously helped you with your schooling, yet you’re here spewing nonsense.” “Everyone here, listen clearly: Marcus is my grandfather’s true grandson, the eldest son of the Zenith Group.” I looked at my elder sister in disbelief. “He’s my grandfather’s true grandson? The eldest son of the Zenith Group?” “Sister, how can you say such things? Your audacity truly knows no bounds!” My second sister’s eyes darted, and she looked at me with disdain. “Ethan Caldwell, did you forget to take your medication today? Are you having an episode?” Marcus, meanwhile, began to sob theatrically. “It’s all my fault. I knew Ethan had a mental illness, but I still brought him here.” Their distorted conversation, twisting truth into lies, was heard clearly by everyone in the grand hall. In an instant, everyone around me looked at me with scorn. “So Ethan Caldwell is just a poor student sponsored by the young master, no wonder he’s dressed so shabbily.” “The young master is truly naive and kind, to sponsor someone with a troubled mind and ill intentions like that.” Immediately, my elder sister called for Mr. Davies, the corporation’s assistant. “You and your men throw Ethan Caldwell out. He’s not allowed to step foot in the corporation’s doors again without my permission.” I looked at the corporate assistant, Mr. Davies, as he approached me with security guards. “Mr. Davies, you’ve been with my mother for so long. How can you not recognize the true heir of the corporation?” Mr. Davies immediately stopped, frozen in place. “I… I…” My second sister shot him an annoyed glare. “Mr. Davies, my elder sister is the future successor of the corporation. Are you defying her orders now? Do you want to pack your bags and leave?” Mr. Davies instantly turned pale with fright. He looked at me uneasily. “Young Master, I have elderly parents and young children, and I rely on this job to support my family. Please don’t make things difficult for me. Please come with me.” With that, Mr. Davies signaled the security guards to quickly drag me away. Looking at the several people closing in on me, I grabbed a vase from the table and threw it forcefully. “Not only am I the true heir of the Zenith Group, I am its sole successor! Try laying a hand on me!” The shattering of the vase and my furious roar echoed through the entire banquet hall. Hearing this, everyone around me scoffed. “It seems he’s quite unwell. First he impersonates the richest man’s grandson, now he claims to be the corporation’s successor. It’s utterly laughable.” “Exactly. Even if he were the richest man’s true grandson, it wouldn’t be his turn, a mere young master, to inherit the corporation. After all, he has two elder sisters ahead of him.” Looking at my two sisters, still so arrogant, I challenged them directly. “Elder sister, are you certain you and our second sister have any claim to inheritance?” My second sister’s eyes flickered, but she quickly regained her composure. She tugged at my elder sister’s sleeve. “Elder sister, today is a joyous occasion. Our family elders will be arriving soon. Perhaps it’s better to just let it go.” Seeing my second sister’s reaction, I knew she was recalling her origins and starting to feel apprehensive. After all, my grandfather, the nation’s wealthiest man, had only one son – my father. After my father’s passing, I was his only true grandson. My two elder sisters were merely the orphaned daughters of my father’s sister. After their parents passed away, my father, unable to bear seeing his nieces suffer outside, brought them back to the Caldwell family. Therefore, they had no blood relation to my father or grandfather and absolutely could not inherit the Zenith Group, which my biological grandfather had founded. But my elder sister disregarded my words, instead frowning and glaring at my second sister. “She just laid a hand on Marcus. Can you really stand to see Marcus suffer such an injustice?” “Ethan Caldwell, it seems your condition has worsened. Perhaps we should just have the assistant send you to a mental institution for treatment?” Hearing the words “mental institution,” my chest instantly filled with consuming hatred. I remembered the agony of being bled and flayed by Marcus in the mental institution in my previous life. Yes, in the last life, my elder sister and second sister, desperate to win Marcus’s genuine affection, both conspired to calculate and harm me. Marcus was a medical student, and he harbored a lifelong desire: to personally observe the structural differences between living and dead human bodies. When my two sisters learned of this, they collaborated with Marcus to dissect me alive. Despite growing up with my sisters, living together in the Caldwell home for eighteen years, they, to please Marcus, not only allowed him to impersonate me but also constantly devised ways to help him torment me. Now, I understood. In my sisters’ eyes, kinship was trivial; only love was the most important thing in their hearts. But I was now curious: when love and power were placed side by side, how would my two sisters choose? Thinking of this, I let out a cold laugh. “I’m asking you one last time: who is the true heir and eldest son of the Zenith Group?” Before my two sisters could speak, Charles Harrington, the son of a partner company under the Zenith Group, rushed forward and punched me. “This is outrageous! You, a mere sponsored student, dare to cause trouble here at the Zenith Group? Don’t you know your place?” I knew Charles Harrington. He secretly admired my elder sister and constantly fantasized about marrying her to become the future chairman’s husband of the corporation. Ever since he heard that Marcus was the richest man’s grandson and the eldest son of Zenith Group, he had spent the last two months flattering Marcus and running errands for him. He wanted to establish a good relationship with his future brother-in-law early on and leave the impression of a devoted husband in my elder sister’s mind. Unfortunately, he had curried favor with the wrong person. Marcus was not only not the eldest son of the Zenith Group, but also his rival in love – my elder sister’s kept lover for years. I wasn’t about to take Charles’s punch for nothing, so I kicked him hard in the abdomen. “What are you? The son of a third-rate company president dares to strike me! With just one word from me, your family will be bankrupt immediately.” Charles clutched his stomach in pain, looking at me in disbelief. “Ethan Caldwell, you actually dared to kick me! My father and mother have never even scolded me, let alone hit me!” “You just wait, I won’t let you off the hook.” Marcus remorsefully took Charles’s hand. “Charles, don’t bother with him. He’s not right in the head. I apologize on his behalf.” I looked at Marcus with disdain and sneered. “I think you’re the one who’s crazy. Why play the role of a kept man when you could be something decent, instead of running to such an important event impersonating the heir of the corporation?” I turned to my two sisters, pointed at the door, and said coldly. “Ugh, since my sisters insist on playing dress-up games with their lover, then take your kept boytoy and get out of my corporation!” My two sisters glared at me, their faces ashen. “Ethan Caldwell, let me tell you, we hold real power in this corporation, while you’re still a student. You’re the one who needs to leave!” “What’s going on? Why are you all standing here instead of taking your seats?” A dignified, exceptional middle-aged woman squeezed through the crowd. She was Victoria Vance, the CEO of Zenith Group, and my biological mother. But she hurried to Marcus, raising a hand to wipe away his tears. “Marcus, don’t cry~ Who bullied you?” “Tell me quickly, and I’ll get revenge for you right now!” My elder sister angrily pointed at me: “Who else but that arrogant scoundrel Ethan Caldwell would dare to bully Marcus right under my nose?” My mother, hearing this, slapped me with displeasure. “Ethan Caldwell, I truly gave you too much leeway. How dare you act like a bully, picking on Marcus.” “Now, kneel and apologize to Marcus immediately, or else you won’t see any allowance for the next year.” Looking at my mother, who blamed me without discerning right from wrong, my eyes were filled with disappointment. Indeed, Mother was just as she had been in my previous life, irrationally doting on Marcus with my two sisters. Although I had already anticipated it, my heart still couldn’t help but ache. I used to wonder why, when I was clearly her son, and Marcus was merely a plaything for my two sisters, Mother became obsessed with him the moment she met him. Especially after learning that both sisters had kept Marcus as their lover, Mother flew into a rage, whipping both of them for an entire day and night. At the time, seeing my sisters being beaten, I even ran to persuade Mother, defending them. But I was accidentally struck twice by Mother’s whip, and those two scars are still on my arm to this day. After that, Mother not only forbade my two sisters from continuing to keep Marcus, but she also pulled strings to send Marcus to the best university in Nation A. More importantly, Mother also declared to my two sisters that if they truly liked Marcus, they should compete fairly and try their best to bring him into the family as a son-in-law. And the one who successfully won Marcus would be the inheritor of Mother’s wealth. In my past life, Mother’s unusually behavior made me extremely curious, so I secretly investigated Marcus’s background. Later, I learned that Marcus was actually the son of Mother’s first love. Marcus resembled his father very much. Mother recognized him the first time she saw him. The destructive power of a deceased first love was truly potent; a similar face could firmly capture my mother’s heart. It was truly a pity for my father, who died without ever knowing that Mother harbored another man in her heart. Thinking of this, I looked at my mother with a mocking expression. “I will not apologize!” “However, since my two sisters claim Marcus is their brother, the eldest son of the Zenith Group, doesn’t Mother have anything to explain to everyone?” Hearing this, Marcus immediately looked at my mother with a wronged expression, knowing that my mother was most afraid of him crying. Sure enough, seeing Marcus’s face turn pale from crying, Mother immediately slapped me twice again. “Explain what? They’re right. Marcus is my good son, the eldest son of the Zenith Group.” Looking at my mother, who was lying through her teeth, I roared at her directly. “Victoria Vance, how can you do this to my deceased father? Do you dare to say those words again with a clear conscience?” Mother ignored my words and turned to my two sisters. “Go and throw out this trash who bullied your brother.” Looking at my cold and heartless mother, my heart was a mix of emotions. Heh, this was the woman my father loved his entire life? This was the biological mother I had admired for eighteen years since childhood? I thought my father, before his death, never would have anticipated that after he passed, the two daughters he kindly adopted would harm his beloved son for the sake of a lover. And his own wife would not only fail to protect their biological son but would also drive him out of the house for the child of her first love. At this moment, I truly felt sorrow for myself and for my deceased father.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “407676”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

It was my pregnancy that had Elias Stone’s blue-blooded family heir in a fit of pique this time. When I returned alone from my doctor’s appointment, his gaze, usually fixed on financial reports, didn’t even lift. “I have no immediate plans for children. My assistant has scheduled your procedure for next week.” That evening, I packed a bag and left. But his rival, Dean Holloway, found me, offering to help me fake my death to escape. The condition was the Rosewood Estate, which belonged to me. The day I was supposed to leave, I accidentally overheard their conversation. “If you want to marry Scarlett back home, why not just divorce? Why go through this whole charade of faking her death to get rid of her?” “A divorce and remarriage would brand Scarlett a homewrecker. A widower remarrying minimizes the harm to her.” “Then why do you want her Rosewood Estate? Aren’t you allergic to roses?” Elias gave a faint smile. “Scarlett likes them.” … Dean Holloway probably didn’t expect me to arrive two hours early at our meeting point. In two hours, I would be boarding his private helicopter to leave. But right now, hiding behind a concrete pillar, I gripped my hands so tightly they trembled uncontrollably. “Once you take her abroad, find someone to look after her until the baby is born. This card is my compensation for her.” Elias said, his tone utterly dismissive. Then came a scoff. “You’re kidding, right, Stone? You want me to look after your wife and child? Aren’t you worried I’ll ‘look after’ them into my bed?” Elias seemed to freeze for a moment. Their eyes met, then he calmly shifted his gaze, lighting a cigarette. “I thought you preferred the big-chested, empty-headed type, Holloway? She’s not your style.” “Sometimes you just want a change of pace. And honestly, Eleanor Leigh is quite pretty.” After a brief silence, Elias nonchalantly flicked his cigarette ash. “Suit yourself.” Dean laughed heartily. “Relax, I’m just kidding. That mousy, domestic type like Eleanor, she’s not really my thing. Besides, if it weren’t for Scarlett, I wouldn’t lift a finger for you, not even if you offered me another twenty percent of the profits.” Elias shot him a cold, sharp glance. “Scarlett is your pet name for her?” I first saw Scarlett Lindell at a Stone family dinner. At the time, she was Elias’s nephew’s girlfriend. Fair-skinned and beautiful, in a red slip dress. Bold enough to corner Elias in the dim hallway of the old mansion. “Uncle, your nephew cheated on me. I’ve decided to teach him a lesson.” She smiled, cunning and bright, then pulled his tie and kissed him. That day, Elias pushed her away. He was a man of great restraint. In our five years of marriage, countless women had tried to get into his bed. From innocent interns to glamorous actresses, he never once crossed the line. But Scarlett became his sole exception. On the day we were supposed to fulfill our marital duties, Elias didn’t come home. I huddled in the cold sheets, waiting for a long time. Overcome with sleepiness, I finally called him. After a long ringing, it connected. The hot, ambiguous sounds made me realize the call had been accidentally answered. Then I heard a low murmur, accompanied by a muffled groan. “Scarlett, this is how you teach him a lesson…” “Scream for me. I want to hear it.” His voice was hoarse, unable to contain his passion. I froze, shaking as I dropped my phone. It was then I realized that my usually composed and reserved husband could lose control like this. Dean Holloway’s teasing voice piped up again. “I heard Eleanor Leigh’s Rosewood Estate was her mother’s inheritance. Taking that from her feels a bit cruel, doesn’t it?” “Take? Wasn’t it her choice to use it as collateral for the deal?” “To have a child or to keep her inheritance, I gave her a choice.” Elias slowly stubbed out his cigarette. Hearing those words, I actually laughed. Yes, from childhood, I had always been making choices. Tired of being confined and starved in the bathroom by my stepmother, I chose to be obedient, to call her ‘Mom,’ and to silently endure her furious slaps when she was upset. Afraid of one day being drugged and assaulted by my stepbrother, I chose to agree to the marriage alliance with the Stones, to marry a man whose marital duties were even outlined in a prenuptial agreement. Fearful that Elias would truly force me to have an abortion, I chose to use the only memento my mother left me to exchange for Dean’s help to escape. Because I didn’t want to die, I fought desperately to live. If that’s what you call a choice. Then fine. From now on, I won’t fight anymore. I laughed, wiping away the tears streaming down my face. If they didn’t want me to live. Then we could all go down together. I pretended to know nothing and successfully left the country as planned. At the same time, the news broke that Eleanor Leigh, wife of Elias Stone, CEO of Stone Enterprises, had tragically died in a fire. Dean, as agreed, prepared a secluded villa in the countryside and a new identity for me. And the first thing I did after settling in was get a medical abortion. I had wanted that child once. But now, I didn’t want it at all. Lying on the cold hospital bed. I could distinctly feel the undeveloped embryo detaching from my body. Back at the villa, I lay in a daze for several days. When Dean came, he found me crying in bed. He didn’t know I’d had an abortion. Seeing me so distraught, he frowned and asked, “You still can’t let go of Elias? You love him that much?” Elias and I were in an arranged marriage. If Stone Enterprises hadn’t been facing a cash flow crisis, my nouveau riche father would never have had the chance to secure a marriage alliance with a family like the Stones. Our first meeting was the day before we officially registered our marriage. Compared to my nervousness, he was elegantly composed, calmly handing his assistant a thick prenuptial agreement to pass to me. “Ms. Leigh, if you have any questions, we can discuss them.” I once only saw marriage as an escape from the Leigh family. Later, I gradually thought that if Elias was the one I’d spend my life with, it might not be so bad. He would prepare unique gifts for every holiday and anniversary. He would take me to every important event, smiling as he introduced me to everyone: “This is my wife.” And in bed, when he sensed my nervousness, he would whisper hoarsely in my ear: “Tell me if it hurts.” How could I not have loved him? My stifled sobs grew louder, and Dean, perhaps impatient, snatched away my blanket, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Eleanor Leigh, why don’t you just come with me instead?” I hadn’t told him I was crying because of the pain. I gave him a cold glance. “What nonsense are you talking about?” He suddenly leaned closer, a hint of seductive charm flickering in his deep-set eyes, which usually held a playful, dog-like affection. “I’m not joking, princess.” I stiffened slightly, clutching the bedsheet, unsure what to do. He seemed pleased with my reaction. He ruffled my hair like a puppy, raising an eyebrow with a roguish smile. “Mind if I use your shower?” When the sound of water began in the bathroom, relying on my last stolen glance, I opened Dean’s phone. That red rose icon was all too familiar. Scarlett. [Eleanor Leigh would totally lose it if she knew Elias was celebrating my birthday at her Rosewood Estate, wouldn’t she?] [You need to propose to her on my birthday, then dump her the next day. Don’t forget to record it!] [I can’t wait to see her face when she realizes she’s been played by both you and Elias!] Dean replied with a face-palm emoji. [Alright, little princess, you’re the expert at this game.] Scarlett loved playing games to watch me squirm. She knew I had discovered their affair. So, when she was in bed with Elias, she would ‘accidentally’ call me from his phone. When I accompanied Elias to important events, she would always call, making him abandon me. Even on my birthday, she dressed as a sweet maid delivering a cake and, when my back was turned, hooked Elias into a kiss. Perhaps my reactions were never quite satisfying enough for her. So this time, she wanted to play a bigger game. I took photos, then put Dean’s phone back. Since they enjoyed playing these games, I would play along to the very end. I spent an entire night figuring out Dean and Scarlett’s relationship. They were both trust fund kids, childhood sweethearts who’d even had a childhood engagement. But Scarlett didn’t like spoilt heirs like Dean; she preferred the thrill of bringing down a reserved man like Elias. And Dean, the kind of playboy who adored being a lapdog to a princess, seemed outwardly flirtatious but was deeply starved for affection. The most direct way to win over such a man was to care for him, look after him, and mother him. In the days that followed, Dean used every trick he had for chasing women on me. It was an endless parade of clothes, handbags, expensive jewelry, and armfuls of roses. Oh, and spontaneous fireworks displays. He sent gifts for seven straight days, and I ignored him every time. Finally, the spoiled prince couldn’t take it anymore. Drrunkenly, he arrived at my house. Pushing open the door, he saw the piles of unopened gifts and let out a frustrated laugh. He shoved me against the wall, gritting his teeth. “Eleanor Leigh, are you really that hard to get?” I asked him, “Are you hungry?” Dean froze. Those eyes, always filled with playful mockery, were now clear as a golden retriever’s. He nodded stiffly. I made him a bowl of noodles and sat opposite him, watching him eat with gusto. He looked at me self-consciously. “Why are you staring at me?” I smiled bitterly. “Elias used to only eat a few bites. He never ate with such enjoyment, like you.” He paused, then asked, feigning indifference, “You often cooked for Elias?” I nodded. “He had a sensitive stomach, so I learned some recipes for digestive health.” I was lying. With four maids in the house, I never had to cook. He fell silent, burying his face in his noodles. In the following days, Dean clung to me, demanding I cook him various dishes, and pressing me about whether Elias had ever eaten them. I played video games with him, watched him race, and listened to him recount his teenage angst. When he feigned indifference, I calmly described my life after my mother’s death. The way he looked at me grew increasingly strange. Finally, one day, as I was washing dishes, he suddenly hugged me from behind. “Eleanor Leigh, have you thought about my offer from last time?” His chin rested on my neck, sweet and with a hint of cautious anticipation. I didn’t speak. In the quiet kitchen, only our increasingly heavy breathing filled the air. Just then, his phone rang. It was Elias’s voice coming through the receiver. “How… how has she been lately?” It seemed he sensed my body stiffen. Dean spun me around, forcing me to face him. His deep eyes stared intently at me, a half-smile playing on his lips. “She’s fine.” Elias was silent for a few seconds, then asked, “And the child?” My eyes slowly welled up with tears. Dean’s face darkened. He abruptly gripped my chin and kissed me fiercely. He casually knocked the phone onto the counter. He held the back of my head, kissing me until I could barely breathe. “Dean Holloway!” I cried out his name. But he just curved his lips, rubbing his nose against mine, his voice hoarse. “Say it again.” On the other end of the line. Elias’s hand, holding the phone, froze. Behind his glasses, his pupils abruptly constricted. I pushed Dean away, panting, and ran upstairs. He chased after me, grabbing my arm. “Eleanor Leigh, can’t you just look at me?” I looked at him. “Why?” He gritted his teeth in frustration. “You don’t know why? Fine, I’ll tell you. Because I’m crazy about you!” I didn’t know how much of Dean’s sincerity was real and how much was pretense at that moment. It didn’t matter. What mattered most was that I knew my moment had arrived. “You like me?” I scoffed, a cold laugh escaping. “Alright, then give me back my Rosewood Estate.” Dean hesitated for a few seconds. I pulled my hand away from him. “Mr. Holloway, please let me go. I truly can’t risk giving my heart away to the wrong person again.” He grabbed me tightly, pulling me into his arms. “Is it true? If I give it back to you, you’ll believe I’m serious?” Whether Dean was genuinely swayed by my acting these past few days, or merely feigning affection to draw me into his trap, he eventually returned the property transfer deed I had signed. But as he handed it back, he probed, “Are you taking the Rosewood Estate back because you want to return?” I shook my head calmly. “No. Eleanor Leigh is dead.” She died in the deception they wove together. Dean and I started dating, just like a normal couple. He was incredibly clingy. After we started dating, he stopped going to bars, races, or clubs. We walked hand-in-hand along the river, and kissed on the sofa while watching movies. Every time, by the end, he’d be panting, his head on my lap, stroking my lower belly and whining, “When will it be three months?” He didn’t know I was utterly alone. Our romantic game would only last until the day he and Scarlett had planned. That day, Dean was bothering me as usual, his hand trying to slip under my clothes, when his phone rang. He impatiently reached to turn it off but paused when he saw the name on the screen. “Uh… babe, my buddy’s calling me at this hour, probably something urgent. I’ll just take this.” His expression was a little unnatural. He was clearly distracted when we went to bed that night. I feigned sleep. He called my name softly a few times. Seeing no reaction, he grabbed his phone and got out of bed. It sounded like he was heading out, but when the door opened, I heard his hushed, surprised voice: “You came all the way here? Are you crazy?” Immediately followed by a petulant, aggrieved voice. “Dean Holloway! Are you scolding me?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “407677”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 At my wedding reception, a decade in the making, the big screen suddenly flashed photos of my fiancé cheating. The entire ballroom waited for me to spiral into hysterics. Everyone knew about my severe control issues and bipolar disorder, that my obsession with Zach Weixler ran bone-deep. If he so much as caught a wisp of an unfamiliar scent, I’d be on the rooftop, forcing him to scrub his skin raw. If he exchanged more than a few words with another woman, I’d cut my wrists, demanding he lock himself away in a dark room for three days and three nights. Zach’s family whispered warnings, “Anna, don’t make things more difficult for everyone.” In the photos, Zach’s back was covered in scratch marks, as he tenderly kissed the woman in his arms. He was even explaining it to me, quite pleased with himself. “Anna, I’m doing this for therapy.” Zach’s promise last night, that he would cut ties with that woman, landed like a resounding slap, finally waking me up. My illness was cured. And him? I no longer wanted him. … The wedding reception ended in disarray. I removed my veil and looked at Zach’s parents. “Mr. Weixler, I remember you once said that if Zach and I ever grew tired of each other, I could use this engagement contract to ask you for anything.” He looked surprised, as if he couldn’t believe I would give up this engagement. “Then, please adopt me as your goddaughter, and arrange for me to marry far away in Brighton, where he can never find me.” In the face of my resolute gaze, he reluctantly agreed. I turned back to my room, tearing down photos from the wall, one by one. A warm breath ghosted over my neck, and my hand paused. “My wife is so well-behaved today, not acting up like usual. It seems my treatment over the years has been very effective.” I had severe control issues and bipolar disorder. Every time I found a trace on Zach that wasn’t mine, I would go mad, forcing him to clean it off. He was no less extreme, always making himself bruised and battered to demonstrate his loyalty. I don’t know when it started, but a depressed patient, far more severe than me, appeared in Zach’s life. Zach said if he could cure Clara Hastings, then he could definitely cure me. I subtly evaded Zach’s hand. He keenly noticed, holding my hand even tighter. “My wife, it was Clara who had an episode today. She was sobbing and nearly killed me.” “I had no choice. I came up with this idea to cheer her up.” As if afraid I wouldn’t believe him, Zach opened his photo album and showed me a smiling picture of Clara. For the past six months, Clara had infiltrated every aspect of my life. She baked a cake, and Zach, despite my matcha allergy, forced me to eat it, demanding I smile and admit she was wonderful. When her planted flowers sprouted, Zach would interrupt my therapy sessions, dragging me to a party to celebrate. When she was scared of thunderstorms, Zach left me with a high fever on the way to the hospital… I gave a perfunctory agreement. “Mmm, she smiled. Congratulations on becoming her savior.” But Zach’s face suddenly darkened. He gripped my shoulder tightly. “Anna!” “I’m only your savior!” His grip was too strong, and the back of my head slammed against the wall. The photos in my hand scattered, trampled under Zach’s feet. I cried out in pain, and he immediately pulled his hand back, his face filled with concern. He crouched down, picking up the scattered photos. “I’ll have the housekeeper pack up our things and move them to the bridal suite. You don’t have to worry.” It seemed he still didn’t know about my plans to marry far away. I nodded and spoke softly. “Then the wedding…” Zach clicked his tongue in annoyance. “You’re the only one in my heart. Does it matter if we have a wedding? Clara’s emotions have just stabilized. Can’t you wait?” A specific notification sound suddenly filled the air. The anger on his face vanished, replaced by a gentle expression as he answered the phone. A girl’s delicate sobs came through the speaker. Zach panicked, dropped the photos, and rushed out. I watched his hurried departure and dialed the wedding planner. “Just transfer the refund directly to Mr. Weixler’s account.” Half an hour after Zach left, I finally cleared the photo wall. I stared at my own happy smiling face in the photos, a sudden pang in my heart. Then, without hesitation, I threw them into the shredder. On the bedside table hung an ugly, distorted doll. Initially, I loved it, and felt bad for Zach’s pricked fingers from making this ugly doll. But later, I saw the same pattern on Clara’s phone case, but a more exquisite charm. Only then did I realize this was just a failed practice piece Zach had used. I threw it into the trash, along with all the couple’s items in the room. My phone vibrated wildly, indicating Clara had updated her social media. When I first learned of Clara’s existence, I furiously confronted Zach. I happened to catch him holding her hand, helping her write. They were so close, the air practically glowed with a pink, ambiguous aura. I went mad, smashing his study, forcing him to draw a line with her. For the first time, Zach didn’t soothe my emotions; instead, he stood beside Clara, scolding me. “Those with dirty hearts see dirt everywhere! I was just teaching her how to write!” But the scattered sheets of paper on the floor were all covered in hearts. That time, Zach didn’t comfort me; he gave me the silent treatment for a month. Zach self-righteously claimed it was normal socializing. But what I saw were his and Clara’s intertwined fingers, his and Clara’s shadow kiss in a staged shot, and yesterday at the wedding banquet, the ambiguous, glaring scratch marks. My consciousness returned. I picked up my phone and saw Clara’s post about soaking in a hot spring. She wore a sheer white gauze, the wet fabric clinging to her skin. A pair of hands, intimately familiar to me, appeared in the frame, kneading Clara’s calf without any sense of boundaries. The caption read, “I’m so clumsy; my calf cramped as soon as I got in the water. Luckily, Master Zach saved me.” It was followed by two emojis of praying hands, attempting to lighten the romantic atmosphere. I watched for a long time, then blocked Clara’s contact. As soon as I blocked her, Zach’s call came in. His roaring voice pierced my eardrums. “Anna Vance, what the hell are you doing? Clara was just normally sharing her life on social media!” “Don’t you know she has severe depression? Why did you block her? She’s been crying nonstop, banging her head against the pool wall, saying she’s a sinner and wants to prove her innocence by dying.” Zach’s accusations were like a sharp knife, brutally tearing through my feigned strength. My chest ached dully. I tried to suppress a sob. “Zach Weixler, I just want to draw a line between us. Is it wrong for me to give you to her?” A splash was heard on the other end. Zach screamed in panic. “Clara!” All that was left was the cold dial tone. Tears fell onto the wedding dowry my parents had left me. I ran my hand over the exquisite phoenix coronet. In the end, I still couldn’t fulfill my parents’ last wish, to marry Zach in grand style. I continued packing. Half an hour later, the door was kicked open with a bang. Zach, protecting the sobbing Clara, looked furious. “Look at how much Clara is crying! Hurry up and apologize!” My fingernails dug deep into my palm. I didn’t want to argue with him anymore. I obediently bowed and said, “I’m sorry.” Zach was unaccustomed to my docility, staring at me in surprise. I carefully placed the phoenix coronet into my suitcase. But then I saw Clara gently tug at Zach’s sleeve. “That phoenix coronet is so pretty! If I had a coronet like that, I’d be so happy.” Her tears fell perfectly onto Zach’s hand. Zach snatched the coronet from my hand and placed it on Clara’s head. “If this coronet can make you happy, it’s worth it. Besides, Anna made you sick, so consider it her apology gift to you.” I frantically tried to grab it back, but Zach’s grip on my wrist was crushing. The force was so immense, it felt like my bones would shatter. Tears welled up from the pain, and I looked at Zach pleadingly. “That’s the only keepsake my parents left me! Give it back!” Clara fiddled with the coronet’s tassels, asking with a smile as she looked in the mirror, “Do I look good wearing it?” Zach nodded, affectionately pinching her cheek. “Of course, you look good. Clara is the prettiest.” Clara finally stopped crying and, smiling, threw herself into Zach’s arms. The two of them flirted openly, oblivious to my presence. I saw a corner of the phoenix coronet bent. My heart felt as if it had been slashed by a sharp knife, blood dripping out. “Give it back!” I shrieked, my voice sharp, startling even Mrs. Weixler. She rushed into the room, saw Clara deliberately bending the coronet’s tassel, and frowned deeply, angrily questioning Zach. “How could you get involved with someone so disreputable? Look at her, she has no manners, just casually stealing other people’s things!” The atmosphere was tense. Zach gritted his teeth, looking at me. “Did you teach Mom to say that?” With that, he scoffed. “If we’re talking about manners, you’re the one without them, aren’t you? If you had manners, would you be living in my house before we’re even married?” “You uncultured brute.” A buzzing erupted in my ears. I forcefully raised my hand and slapped Zach’s face. “You have no right to say that!” During a family gathering years ago, a fire broke out. The Weixler family, being closer to the exit, escaped first. Zach and I were still playing hide-and-seek. My parents were shielding me as we fled when they heard Zach’s frightened cries for help. They didn’t hesitate, immediately turning back to find him. Because of inhaling too much dense smoke, my mother collapsed in the flames. My father, using his body as a shield to protect Zach, suffered extensive burns and eventually died from his injuries. If it weren’t for Zach, my parents would never have died. Mrs. Weixler’s eyes reddened, and she tearfully pulled me into a hug. Zach also realized he had spoken out of turn, his lips moving slightly as if to make amends. Clara, seeing everyone starting to side with me, started to cry pitifully again. She took off the phoenix coronet, placing herself between Zach and me. “Please don’t argue over me, okay? I’m sorry, I’ll give the phoenix coronet back to you.” My fingers trembled as I reached for it, but the moment I touched the coronet, Clara let go. It fell heavily to the ground, severely deformed, the embedded jewels shattering everywhere. My blood ran cold. I collapsed to the ground, carefully gathering the pieces of the phoenix coronet. Clara, as if triggered, screamed hysterically, throwing herself into Zach’s arms. Zach wrapped his arm around her waist, angrily gripping my wrist. “Anna Vance, it’s just a broken item! Do you really want Clara to die?” “Come with me! I’ll make you experience what it’s like to have an episode too.” Zach forcibly dragged me into the passenger seat. Mrs. Weixler ran after us, looking worriedly at me. “The Weixler family will be here to pick you up soon! Where are you going now?” The roar of the engine drowned out her words. Zach didn’t hear a thing. I clutched the jade fragments in my hand. They pierced my palm, blood seeping through my fingers. Zach merely glanced at it, then averted his gaze. He worriedly watched Clara in the rearview mirror, gently comforting her. “Don’t be scared, Clara. I’ll make things right for you right away.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “407678”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 It was New Year’s Eve, and I was barely a month post-miscarriage. Jonathan Goode brought me a bowl of freshly made beef stew. And a signed divorce agreement. “Kathy, Maya is pregnant.” “Let’s part ways amicably.” The rich aroma of the soup instantly lost its appeal. He was talking about the female student he’d sponsored, the very person responsible for the loss of my child. But I didn’t cry, didn’t make a scene. I just asked calmly, “Why?” Jonathan looked relieved, yet indifferent. “For these seven years, whenever I lay beside you, I couldn’t help but feel disgusted.” “Kathy, even if you were violated because of me, I can’t stand the stain on you.” “It’s probably for the best that the child is gone. We’re even now.” So that was it. But Jonathan didn’t know that the “stained” person he spoke of was actually him. Nor did he know that seven years ago, to save him, I had a memory chip implanted in his brain. In three days, that chip would expire. Then, he would remember everything. And he would die. … “Financially, I won’t shortchange you.” Seeing my silence, Jonathan laid out the agreement. “I’ve left you the car and the house, plus half the money. It should be enough even if you don’t work anymore.” This meant he intended to cut me out of the corporation we had built together. Swallowing the bitterness that rose in my throat, I pushed the agreement aside. “I need time to consider.” Jonathan frowned. “Kathy, Maya is different from you. She’s pure, she’s only ever had me, and I have to be responsible for her.” His voice grew menacing at the end. “As a married couple, I don’t think you’d want me to turn this into a fight.” I couldn’t help but recall how, before he made his fortune, he was once pressured at a business dinner to concede profits. The opposing party merely showed a hint of aggression, and Jonathan smashed a wine bottle over his head. Now, he was aiming that bottle at me. “Don’t worry, I’ll sign it.” But not the divorce agreement. “The day after tomorrow is our tenth wedding anniversary. At least, have dinner with me.” Jonathan paused, then reluctantly said, “Kathy, why are you doing this?” He thought I was desperate. “The day after tomorrow, I promised Maya I’d go with her for her prenatal check-up. If this is the only way you’ll sign, I’ll make time to come back.” Just then, Maya called. “Jonathan, my tummy feels a bit uncomfortable. I wonder if the baby misses you too much.” She was only two months pregnant; the baby wasn’t even fully formed. Yet, Jonathan’s eyes softened instantly, and a look of doting affection I’d never seen before appeared on his face. “Okay, I’ll come right back and give him a good talking to.” Before leaving, Jonathan paused. “Kathy, this is the home I’ve always wanted.” He had said those very words years ago, when he broke ties with his family for me. Such a privileged man, living in a drafty rented room, yet he still found it cozy. All because I was there. “Kathy, you are my home.” Today, that home, me, had become the hell he was desperate to escape. The unfinished beef stew had grown cold. I stood up, tossing the bowl and its contents into the trash. Then, I made two calls. One to a lawyer, asking him to draft a stock transfer agreement for me. The other was to a moving company. I wanted every single item connected to Jonathan removed. That night, he didn’t return, as expected. Maya sent a photo of him bare-chested, warming milk. There were fresh hickeys on his chest. [The baby’s gone and you still won’t divorce him, Sister? Aren’t you pathetic?] [See? Only with me can he be unrestrained, truly wild.] [He must have been so miserable holding back with you; he even wanted me while I was pregnant.] Once, seeing these things would have sent me into a furious frenzy. Like a madwoman, I’d throw out all the disinfectant in the house, then cut up his long-sleeved pajamas. I’d ask him again and again why he avoided me like a disease. I’d ask myself again and again why I’d made that choice all those years ago. But now, I no longer asked. I just calmly saved the messages, then turned off my phone. I was very clear. Apex Holdings, under Jonathan and my leadership, was now worth hundreds of millions. Our joint assets alone amounted to nearly a billion, not to mention our standing in the Chamber of Commerce. My goal was now unambiguous. I wanted all the money and all the power. 2 The next day, I went to the lab where the memory chip had been developed. It was ironic, really. The head of that lab, Ethan Reed, was a brilliant but impoverished student whom Jonathan had initially refused to fund. Back then, our company was just getting on its feet, and funds were limited. Jonathan claimed he saw his past self in Maya and insisted on sponsoring her. Unwilling to see Ethan’s talent hindered by his background, I secretly funded a lab for him, allowing him to earn money through his own abilities. After Jonathan’s incident, Ethan worked tirelessly for a month, developing that memory chip for me. Maya, meanwhile, chose to climb into Jonathan’s bed. “Ms. Thorne, the chip implanted in Mr. Goode’s brain will expire in less than 48 hours, but the data isn’t ideal.” Ethan pushed up his glasses, a hint of worry in his eyes. “When the chip was first implanted, I warned you that forcibly extending its lifespan could cause irreversible neurological damage to Mr. Goode.” He still thought I was the same person who would do anything to save Jonathan’s life. He didn’t realize I had changed. “Let nature take its course.” I closed the report, not even asking a single follow-up question. Ethan paused. “Ms. Thorne, I actually have a backup plan here…” “No need.” I stood up and picked up my bag. “Just save the data.” I didn’t need to imagine how Jonathan would react once his memory returned. But I wouldn’t make the same stupid mistake twice. Walking downstairs, Jonathan called, asking me to attend the graduation ceremony at our alma mater, Kingston University, with him that afternoon. “We usually attend together every year. I don’t want to be gossiped about before we’re divorced.” I knew he was protecting Maya’s reputation. After graduating from Kingston, she had stayed on as a teacher with Jonathan’s help. Rumors about them had been circulating for a while. But I didn’t expose them. After all, I didn’t want any additional complications right now. At the university, the moment Maya saw me, all traces of yesterday’s malice vanished. Instead, she clutched her stomach and spoke nervously. “Kathy, you’re here.” In front of Jonathan, she was always so careful and cautious. And he fell for it every time. Even when Maya pushed me and caused my miscarriage, he believed I was the one making things difficult for her. Just like now, he immediately stepped in front of her. “Kathy, you’re a rational person. Don’t disappoint me.” He was warning me. I tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Move aside.” With that, I pushed past him and sat down. Jonathan paused, clearly surprised by my composure. “Kathy, you…” He was interrupted by Maya. “Kathy, what happened last time was my fault.” She said, hinting at something. “To make it up to you, I’ve specially prepared a surprise for you today.” It wasn’t until she went on stage to give a graduation address to the students that I understood what she meant by “surprise.” She played a video, claiming it was AI-generated, based on an old kidnapping case in Kingston City years ago. A girl, blinded by vanity, was lured abroad, subjected to abuse, and ultimately became a man’s plaything. Every frame focused on that terrified, pained face. Piercing screams, heavy gasps… Though no private parts were shown, the entire audience was still in an uproar. Because that face was mine. 3 The year Jonathan was kidnapped, our company was about to go public, and couldn’t afford any negative press. I had no choice but to block the news. I used all my money and connections to reach out to the local Chinese Association and rescue him. But I never expected that the ordeal would drive him mad. His physical wounds could be healed. But the trauma in his mind, even hypnosis couldn’t mend. After Jonathan’s ninety-ninth suicide attempt, Ethan Reed suggested the memory chip. It could forcibly alter that memory, and it wouldn’t be affected by any emotions or events. However, the underlying pain still needed to be healed so that when the chip expired, Jonathan wouldn’t try to end his life again. So I chose to sacrifice myself. Because I believed love could conquer all difficulties. But it turned out that Jonathan not only found it repulsive, but he also turned it into a knife to stab me with at any given moment. When the video finished, Maya’s gaze subtly swept towards me. “Some people, though alive, have long lost their dignity and become parasites clinging to others.” “So I hope everyone can learn from this, learn to protect themselves, and uphold their bottom line.” After the ceremony, as Maya approached, Jonathan frowned and spoke. “Maya, what you did was too risky.” He wasn’t blaming her. Maya looked innocent. “Jonathan, I put that up because I admire Kathy’s courage and wanted her to be a role model for the students.” Then she adopted a concerned expression for me. “Kathy, this video is something I’ve prepared for a long time. I just want to motivate you, help you move past that incident sooner, and stop being a burden to others.” Hearing this, a doting look crossed Jonathan’s eyes. “Oh, you’re just too kind.” Then he looked at me. “Kathy, Maya meant well. Be more generous.” I stared at him coldly. “Do you know what impact this video will have on me?” “What impact could it have?” Jonathan suddenly became impatient. “The truth always comes out. Did you really think you could hide it forever? Besides, Maya said the video was computer-generated and didn’t name names. Even if someone talks, just don’t take it personally, right? No need to throw a baseless tantrum!” So, in his eyes, such humiliation was my own fault. “Fine.” I didn’t press the issue, instead smiling faintly at Jonathan. “I hope you won’t regret it.” With that, I left, leaving him with a stunned expression. The rumors spread faster than I could have imagined. As if pre-arranged, within an afternoon, numerous versions circulated online. My face was edited into various obscene short videos, and even turned into memes, spread everywhere. With my identity exposed, coupled with the deliberately misleading captions in the video, I was subjected to endless curses and humiliation. [Turns out the Mrs. Goode from Apex Holdings was messed up years ago, no wonder she hasn’t had kids all these years.] [Poor Mr. Goode, so handsome, but he’s the oblivious cuckold.] [AI was too subtle; she clearly sounded like she was enjoying it, where was the pain?] The group’s stock price fluctuated as a result. The next day, my position was suspended by the board of directors. Jonathan spoke to me on the phone in a business-like manner. “Kathy, it wasn’t easy for Apex to get to where it is today. It can’t be ruined by your indiscretions.” He completely forgot that this was all thanks to Maya. “Don’t worry, as long as you sign, I’ll give you the compensation you deserve.” I gripped the phone tightly. “Your so-called compensation is to step on my reputation, kick me out, and force me to sign the divorce.” Jonathan was silent for a moment. “Kathy, don’t blame me.” He didn’t deny it. “Maya is innocent and insecure. If we continue to work together, she won’t be able to handle it.” “I just want to protect my home.” He still didn’t know that his so-called home was on a countdown. Only ten hours remained until the chip expired. And at this critical juncture, the media leaked photos of Jonathan taking Maya to a prenatal check-up.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “407679”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The morning after, a woman knocked on my door. “Is your dad home?” “Who?” “Jonathan Czuchry, your father.” The woman smiled gently. “You must be Chloe, right? I’ve seen your photo in Jonathan’s wallet. I never expected such a big, rough man to raise such a refined daughter.” “My dad?” Lost in a daze, the woman handed me a bag containing a set of keys and a familiar pair of men’s boxers. “These are what your father left at my place last night. I’ve already washed them clean.” She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, a shy blush on her cheeks. “He didn’t go to the office today, so I took the liberty of bringing them over. You’re an adult now, so please don’t be offended. Your mother’s been gone for so many years; it’s natural for your father to find someone.” I stared at the items in her hand, frozen. I had no idea that my husband, fourteen years my senior, had inexplicably become my “dad.” … The woman appeared to be in her mid-thirties, with a darker complexion. While not strikingly beautiful, she had a pleasant demeanor. I struggled to maintain my composure and let her into the house. She made herself quite at home, pouring a glass of water and settling in, then began to share the story of how she and Jonathan had met. “Your father and I met two years ago in Kenya. I was sold there by traffickers, forced into working as a hostess. One time, a customer was giving me a hard time, and your dad, he couldn’t stand it. He used every penny in his account to buy me out – over a million dollars, can you believe it?” I felt an icy dread seep into my bones. Two years ago, Jonathan had returned from a business trip to Kenya, crestfallen, telling me his investment had failed, and over a million dollars had vanished. I comforted him, saying that as long as he was safe, it was all that mattered. Turns out, the money had all been spent on her. My gaze fell on the slender wrist she wore. The woman raised her hand, showing off a glistening jade bangle. “This was your grandmother’s heirloom,” she explained with a smile. “Your dad gave it to me. He said the most important things should go to the most important person.” The luminous jade bracelet sharply pricked my eyes. The year Jonathan and I married, he was just starting his company. We were tight on money, so I asked for nothing, not even the traditional gold jewelry. Later, after his mother passed, I hinted repeatedly that I hoped he would give me his mother’s bangle. But he always said that things from the dead were bad luck. The woman’s voice continued, “I’m an orphan. Your dad kindly brought me back to the States, set me up with everything, and even got me a job as his secretary in his company. Gradually, as we spent time together every day, feelings developed between us.” “Your dad is busy with work, but he always makes time for me. I have a sensitive stomach, and he even learned to cook for me.” “Last time my stomach was bothering me, he missed your grandmother’s funeral to take care of me. But he said my health was more important than anything.” Listening to her words, my heart felt as if it were being flayed, bleeding profusely. When my own mother died, Jonathan had claimed he was too busy with work to return for the memorial. I had believed him, shouldering all the criticism and accusations on his behalf. Now, everything seemed so utterly laughable. A sudden wave of nausea churned in my stomach. I clutched my lips, dry-heaving violently, a dull ache in my lower abdomen. “What’s wrong?” The woman realized her blunder, asking cautiously, “I’m sorry, Chloe. I shouldn’t have told you all this. Are you… having trouble accepting your dad remarrying?” I shook my head. It must be the little one in my belly grieving for me. The woman, sensing my low spirits, added me on social media and then discreetly left. I sat at home all day, lost in a daze. That evening, Jonathan finally returned. I looked at the man before me, nearing forty. Time hadn’t etched many lines on his face; he was still strikingly handsome, composed, and mature. “Jonathan Czuchry,” I handed him the keys, my voice hoarse. “A woman brought these over earlier.” Jonathan’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of panic crossing his face. “What did she say?” “Why are you so flustered?” I averted my gaze, speaking calmly. “She just said she was your secretary, and you left your keys at the office last night while working late.” Jonathan tugged at his tie, clearly relieved. He had just sat down when his phone rang, and his expression instantly changed. “Sweetheart, something urgent came up at the office. You go to sleep, don’t wait up for me tonight.” Jonathan stayed for less than ten minutes before rushing out again. Two hours later, I saw a post from Olivia on social media. [My stomach started hurting again. Luckily he came just in time, making me porridge and soup. I’m so happy~] I stared at the words, feeling as though I was plummeting into a bottomless abyss. Two years ago, Jonathan had suddenly taken an interest in cooking. He not only taught himself over a hundred dishes but also how to make various nutritious soups. I had been deeply touched, believing he learned to cook for me. Now I realized I was a complete and utter joke. Sleep was impossible. The next morning, I woke to excruciating pain in my lower abdomen and bleeding. Jonathan’s phone was unreachable. I endured the pain, driving myself to the hospital. After a series of examinations, the doctor shook her head with regret. “Your progesterone levels are too low, and the emotional distress led to a miscarriage. You’ll need a D&C.” Miscarriage… The two words floated lightly, yet they drained all strength from my body. My baby was gone. My marriage was collapsing. That afternoon, Jonathan rushed to the hospital. He was panting, sweating profusely, one shoe missing. “Chloe, I’m so sorry…” Jonathan sat by my hospital bed, his eyes red, slapping himself in self-reproach. “I was so busy today, I just saw your message! I’m such an idiot, not being here for you immediately for something so important.” His choked sobs and sorrow didn’t seem fake. I thought, he must love me, right? I couldn’t condemn him so easily based on a few words from someone else. I had to get to the bottom of this. Just as I was about to speak, Jonathan glanced at his phone, his expression subtly uneasy. “Chloe, I have to step out for a moment for something.” The moment he left, I followed. At the end of the hallway, I saw Olivia clinging to Jonathan’s arm, her voice sweetly complaining, “Jonathan, why didn’t you tell me your daughter was hospitalized? I have to go see her. After all, I’m her elder, you know.” “Olivia, don’t go.” Jonathan stopped her, his face flustered. “Chloe… she’s not quite ready to accept me moving on with new relationships.” Olivia paused. “No wonder she looked so unhappy yesterday.” “What did you say?” Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. “What did you tell her yester…” But Olivia suddenly hugged his waist, burying her face in his chest. “But Jonathan, I really want to be part of your family. I really want your daughter to accept me. I truly love you, and I don’t want to break up because of outside reasons.” Her voice was fragile and pitiful. Jonathan patted her back, his movements familiar and tender. “Foolish girl, what are you thinking? I won’t leave you. I know you only have me in your world.” Watching this scene, my heart felt like it was being brutally torn in two. Her entire world was him. And wasn’t mine the same? I had been with Jonathan since I was eighteen. Back then, he had nothing, not a penny to his name. My family and friends all said I was crazy, finding an old, poor man who had nothing but good looks. Later, Jonathan started his business. To show his sincerity, he transferred all his initial company shares to me. He pledged his entire fortune to my father, promising that he would prove, with his actions, that my choice was not wrong. But now, he had fallen in love with a woman his own age. The fourteen-year age gap between us had become an unbridgeable chasm. I returned to my hospital room, utterly distraught. A moment later, my hands trembling, I sent a message to my best friend. [Skylar… Jonathan cheated on me.] I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. [Contact a lawyer for me. Jonathan spent millions on his mistress during our marriage. I want all that money back.] [Also, find a time to sell all my shares in Czuchry Industries.] Just as I put my phone away, Jonathan entered. He poured a glass of warm water, placing it by my bedside, then tentatively asked, “Sweetheart, did… my secretary say anything to you yesterday?” “No, nothing,” I feigned calmness, speaking indifferently. “She just dropped off the things and left.” Jonathan’s brow relaxed. He sat down and patted my shoulder. “Sweetheart, don’t be sad… you’re still young. We’ll have more children later.” There won’t be any more, I repeated in my mind. Jonathan, there’s no ‘later’ for us. “Sweetheart, have some soup.” Jonathan bustled about, personally making me a bowl of hot chicken soup. Looking at the steaming bowl in his hands, I recalled Olivia’s social media post. My stomach suddenly churned, and I couldn’t help but gag. Jonathan frowned, patting my back. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” I pushed him away. “Just felt a bit nauseous.” As I spoke, a clear female voice rang out from the doorway: “Jonathan.” Jonathan’s face froze. He turned around in a panic. “Olivia, what are you doing here?” Olivia smiled, carrying a basket of fruit as she walked in. “After thinking it over, I felt I really should come see Chloe.” Olivia sat by my bed, intimately taking my hand. “Chloe, Jonathan told me you’re in the hospital for some women’s health issues? Your mom passed early, so if there’s anything you don’t understand, you can always ask me…” “Olivia!” Jonathan interrupted anxiously. “Something urgent came up at the office. You need to come back with me.” He then said to me, “Chloe, rest well. I’ll come back to see you later.” With that, he pulled Olivia and left in a hurry. I knew. He was panicking. He was afraid of being exposed. This seemingly upright man, with one lie, had deceived two women. Half an hour later, I once again scrolled past Olivia’s social media post. [Called me out under the pretense of overtime, but it was actually to give me a huge surprise~] She posted a photo of a property deed. [I finally have a home in this city! A 3-million-dollar brownstone, it’s his unique gift to me!] The name “Olivia” on the property deed burned my eyes. I even wondered. Was she truly unaware of the truth, or was she deliberately provoking me? I still couldn’t resist. I called Jonathan. It wasn’t until the eighth try that the call connected. “Chloe, what’s wrong?” “Jonathan Czuchry, come back immediately. I have something to ask you.” In the past, Jonathan would have sensed the distress in my voice. But now, he merely lowered his tone. “Chloe, I’m very busy right now. I’ll come back to be with you later.” “I want you to come back now!” “Chloe, don’t make a scene,” Jonathan’s voice grew impatient. “Just wait for me. I’ll be back later.” He hung up. Before the dial tone, I heard Olivia’s voice, playfully complaining, on the other end. “Jonathan, I’m so happy today.” My tears suddenly fell. She was very happy. But her happiness was built upon my suffering. Half an hour later, I received a message from Olivia. [Chloe, don’t you like me? If there’s anything you’re unhappy with about me, you can say it.] [Even though I worked as a hostess in Kenya, my personal life is very clean. Your father is my first man.] [And I’m pregnant with your dad’s child. I will treat everyone equally in the future and try my best to be a good stepmother. I hope you can accept me!]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “407680”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel