Category: English

My mother was a witch who once saved the life of the Alpha of SilverFang Pack. After my mother passed away, Alpha Anderson found me and my sister. He told us we could each marry one of his sons. In my past life, Violet chose the Alpha’s heir, Caleb Anderson. But in the end, she was driven out of the Pack. Reborn to the day Violet and I chose our husbands, I discovered I could hear people’s thoughts. I heard Violet think: “This time, I must steal the good husband first.” Then she hurriedly dragged away the gentle husband I married in my previous life. And Caleb, who beat her every day in the past life, was left to me. I smiled. Did she really think the man I married before had good character? I was reborn to the day Violet and I were brought back to SilverFang Pack. In the Pack’s banquet hall, all important members gathered for a welcome ceremony held for us sisters. Alpha Anderson stood on the elevated platform, his two sons standing on either side. One was Caleb Anderson, Alpha Anderson’s eldest son, cold by nature. He had already been chosen as the Alpha’s heir. The other was Lucas Anderson, Alpha Anderson’s second son, gentle by nature. A perfectly measured smile hung on his face. [This time, I must steal the good husband first.] A female voice transmitted into my ears. It was Violet’s voice. I gripped my skirt tightly. Not only had I been reborn, but I could also hear people’s thoughts. And judging from these two sentences from Violet, she had also been reborn. Otherwise she couldn’t possibly say such things. Alpha Anderson’s voice echoed in the hall: “…Violet, Lily, you may freely choose one of my sons to become your mate.” Violet immediately stepped forward. “Lucas looks gentle and kind. May I… may I choose him?” After speaking, she secretly cast me a smug glance. [This life, you can take the beatings for me.] Her thoughts were crystal clear. Alpha Anderson nodded and looked at me. “Lily, since Violet has already chosen Lucas, then you will marry Caleb.” I stepped forward with a smile. “Yes, Alpha. I quite admire Caleb as well.” I turned and stood beside him. Caleb glanced down at me with no emotion whatsoever. Then he looked away, as if I were merely air. [What a beautiful little treasure.] Lucas’s voice came through. I whipped my head around and saw Lucas gently supporting Violet. A chill ran through my body, and I instinctively grabbed Caleb’s hand hanging at his side. His hand was large with prominent knuckles, and warmth transmitted through his skin, unexpectedly hot. He glanced sideways at me but didn’t pull his hand back. Although this man looked quite intimidating, I felt that staying with him was better than staying with that hypocritical psycho Lucas. In my past life, Violet had married Caleb. As the Alpha’s heir, Caleb was very capable and busy with Pack affairs all day long. I heard he was very cold toward his Mate… Violet sought him out repeatedly, but each time she was driven out of his room with injuries. As for Lucas, although his status in the Pack was inferior to Caleb’s, it was still enough to let me live comfortably in the Pack. He accompanied me every day, taking care of me attentively, spoiling me to the bone. Everyone in the Pack knew we had a good relationship. And later, Caleb suddenly died from poisoning. Alpha Anderson suspected Violet did it and drove her out of the Pack. Lucas then inherited the Alpha position. My status in the Pack instantly skyrocketed. Violet was jealous of me. When I went out, she drove into me, and we died together. But she didn’t know that Lucas wasn’t what he appeared to be… Lucas had always lived in his brother’s shadow. On the surface he pretended to be obedient and polite to everyone, but in reality he was a control freak and domestic abuser. He was just very clever—he never hit my face, so outsiders couldn’t tell at all. Every time he beat me savagely, he would then kneel down to apply medicine and beg my forgiveness. I closed my eyes. The pain from my previous life was still so real and clear. I shook my head, telling myself it was all in the past. This life, I must change my originally tragic fate. I want to control my own destiny, to be independent and not rely on anyone.

Violet and I held our wedding ceremonies together. In my past life, we also held them at this same time. Back then, Caleb didn’t come to the ceremony, but Lucas arrived early in the morning. Everyone said he was the more considerate husband. But in this life, Caleb didn’t miss the ceremony. Although he just stood to the side with a cold expression, I breathed a sigh of relief. After all, in the past life when Caleb didn’t attend the ceremony, Violet suffered much gossip and strange looks. But Violet looked somewhat frantic with rage. During the ceremony she kept glaring at me with resentful eyes, thinking: [Laugh all you want. I’ll see if you can still laugh after getting beaten later.] It wasn’t until the end of the ceremony that Violet impatiently said to Lucas: “I love you, Lucas.” Then she kissed his lips. After the kiss, she stared at me with a showing-off look. I knew she wanted to see me embarrassed. But I wasn’t stupid. I wouldn’t act like she did in the past life and leave the scene in anger. That made all the Pack members and Alpha Anderson present unhappy. I remember everyone said Violet wasn’t steady enough and didn’t deserve to be the Pack’s future Luna. So much so that after marriage, Caleb never gave her a kind look, making her suffer terribly in the Pack. I smiled graciously and didn’t rush to show affection in front of Caleb. Instead, I said to the members attending the ceremony: “Thank you all for your hard work throughout this day. I extend my regards to everyone and hope you enjoy the ball that follows.” As soon as I spoke, the murmuring below ceased. Alpha Anderson, seated in the place of honor, looked at me with newfound respect. SilverFang Pack was the most powerful Pack on the continent, deeply concerned with face and reputation. So as the mate of the Alpha’s heir, one must show proper bearing—not just compete for a man’s favor, but also care for the feelings of Pack members. Violet also saw Alpha Anderson’s gaze, and a flash of annoyance crossed her eyes. [How disgusting. I’ll definitely make you embarrass yourself later!] I felt that being able to hear thoughts was really a good thing. Having such a convenient ability made everything so much easier. When it was time for the opening dance, I calmly lifted my skirt and walked toward the center of the dance floor. Violet stared at me intently, counting in her mind [One, two, three.] The next second, I directly sidestepped and reached out to grasp Caleb’s hand. And Violet, who had been rushing toward me with wine, fell hard to the ground, the wine soaking her entire body. “Are you okay?” Lucas hurried to help her up. But in his mind he was criticizing: [What an idiot!] Everyone was looking this way. Alpha Anderson’s face was full of anger. “As the mate of the Alpha’s son, how can you be so careless?” “I’m… I’m sorry, Alpha Anderson. I didn’t mean to.” Violet quickly apologized, but her eyes showed unwillingness. If I were her, in this life I wouldn’t make trouble again—I’d just live peacefully. But she didn’t want me to have it easy, so naturally I wouldn’t suffer in silence either.

Because Violet made a fool of herself, the ceremony ended hastily. Alpha Anderson didn’t give her a kind look from beginning to end. But when looking at me, his eyes were full of approval. Alpha Anderson even instructed Caleb: “You must treat her well.” Because of the Alpha’s instruction, Caleb’s attitude toward me indeed became much warmer. That evening, Caleb actually returned to our bedroom. He opened the door, his face showing fatigue from handling affairs. In my past life, I heard from others in the Pack that Caleb didn’t return on the wedding night. Violet spent her wedding night alone in an empty room and was never marked by Caleb, becoming a laughingstock for everyone. She went to complain to Alpha Anderson but got scolded instead, told she was incompetent and couldn’t gain her own Mate’s attention. I hurried over. “Caleb, you must be tired today.” He only nodded and didn’t speak to me. I wasn’t angry. While Caleb was showering, I made the bed for him and prepared calming tea. Then I tidied up the sofa myself, preparing to sleep there alone. When Caleb came out and saw this scene, a trace of surprise flashed in his eyes. I quickly said: “You sleep on the bed, I’ll sleep on the sofa.” “Lily, are you playing hard to get?” He narrowed his eyes slightly, staring at me. Having just bathed, his chest was slightly exposed with water droplets clinging to it. I had to admit, his physique was truly striking. Worthy of being the Alpha’s chosen heir. I quickly looked away. “No, we didn’t have feelings for each other before. Sleeping together would be awkward for both of us.” “If possible, I’d like to cooperate with you.” “What do you mean?” “I know you don’t have feelings for me. I just want to live peacefully in the Pack—I don’t expect love. So we can maintain our independent lives privately and only maintain appearances publicly. If you find your destined Mate, I can step aside for her.” Hearing my words, he suddenly smiled. “You’re very smart.” “I was thinking the same thing. I can agree to this.” I only learned some herbal knowledge from my mother. I didn’t have the ability or confidence to control the heart of a future Alpha. After all, in the Pack, the members’ attitude toward me largely depended on the Alpha’s attitude toward me. I didn’t want to end up like Violet in the past life, ostracized by everyone. That wouldn’t benefit me at all. And clearly in the past life, there was intense conflict between him and Violet. I didn’t want to provoke him and repeat that mistake. So I chose to coexist peacefully with him. This life, I only wanted to control my own destiny and stand on my own two feet!

To maintain our public image of a harmonious relationship, I posted a photo of us together on social media. When it was time to sleep, he really did sleep in the big bed, leaving me alone on the sofa. He really didn’t know how to be considerate. Well, I should be content. The next morning, I was woken by the sound of Caleb’s morning workout. Early in the morning he was listening to music while doing high-intensity training. Sweat had already soaked his black tank top, outlining his clearly defined abs and bulging arm muscles. His movements were fluid and full of explosive power, each punch and kick accompanied by the sound of cutting through air. He had so much more strength than Lucas’s thin frame. “Stop staring. I’m not interested in you.” He suddenly spoke, ending his training. “Get dressed. Come with me for breakfast.” His subtext was clear: appear together, put on a show for everyone. Actually, I felt he was quite reasonable. Why did he have such conflict with Violet in the past life? After getting ready, I went out with Caleb. As soon as we left, I saw Violet and Lucas walking toward us hand in hand. Violet wore an overly revealing dress, with marks all over her collarbone and shoulders. She deliberately leaned close to show me. Her face was full of pride as she looked me up and down. Seeing that I wore a long-sleeved dress that completely covered my arms and legs, she thought to herself, then smiled smugly. [Wrapped up so tightly, she must have been beaten and is deliberately hiding the wounds.] “Lily, how was last night? You didn’t…” she deliberately inquired. I noticed that Luna Anderson was approaching from the other end of the corridor at that moment. This stern and serious noblewoman most detested improper dress and discussing private matters in public. But I had no intention of warning her. I just smiled. “Violet, according to Pack hierarchy, you should give the Alpha heir’s wife proper respect, not casually inquire about my private affairs.” Her face immediately darkened, and she bit her teeth in defiance. “Caleb never made such demands. What right do you have to demand this of me?” Then she looked at Caleb. “Caleb, say something.” I could feel the powerful, cold pressure from Caleb beside me spreading bit by bit. Lucas cursed in his mind: [Damn idiot, see if I don’t deal with you tonight!] Then he tugged Violet’s hand, signaling her to stop talking. But she remained completely unaware of how serious the situation was. Until Caleb spoke.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379124”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I saved amnesiac Holt Thornton and worked myself to the bone for three years to support him. But after he recovered his memories, he called me a gold-digger who seduced him for money. He let his lover force liquor down my throat, personally signed the papers, and bulldozed the home where we’d survived together. After that fiasco, I had a gastric hemorrhage and lost two-thirds of my stomach. I left with nothing and fled far away. Later, when he learned the truth, he knelt before me with red-rimmed eyes, telling me over and over that he loved me, begging me to come back. I only calmly threw him a medical diagnosis. It said I was dying. Sage’s POV San Diego nights were always dazzlingly glamorous, enough to make your head spin. I stood in the most inconspicuous corner of the ballroom, like an out-of-place intruder. I wore a black evening gown that Holt Thornton had casually told his assistant to buy an hour ago. The size was one size too big, the neckline somewhat loose. But I could only hunch my shoulders slightly, trying hard to minimize my presence. Under the crystal chandelier not far away, Holt was surrounded by a group of business executives. His impeccably tailored cold gray custom suit made his already superior physique look even more striking. He stood with one hand in his pocket, fingers holding a wine glass, occasionally lowering his head to listen to the woman beside him speak, his lips curling into an extremely faint arc. The woman standing next to him was the only daughter of the Davis Corporation, Melanie Davis. She wore the latest custom starlight dress of the season, and the diamond necklace around her neck refracted light that stung my eyes. A perfect match of talent and beauty, made for each other. This was the phrase I’d heard most tonight. “Holt, you’ve had a bit too much to drink tonight.” Melanie’s voice was soft and delicate as she naturally reached out to straighten Holt’s tie. Holt didn’t dodge. He even lowered his head, allowing Melanie’s movements. In that instant, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, even breathing pulled at raw flesh with pain. I unconsciously took a step forward. My high heels clicked on the polished marble floor, making a light sound. The people around stopped their conversations, their gazes falling on me. Melanie turned her head, and when she saw me, a flash of unconcealed contempt crossed her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a gentle smile. “And this is…” Melanie looked at Holt with feigned confusion. The smile on Holt’s face instantly faded. He looked up at me, his eyes cold as ice, as if looking at a thoughtless subordinate. “An assistant.” His thin lips parted, uttering those words. “An assistant.” The word shattered three years of our bond into pieces. I froze in place, my blood turning cold inch by inch. I was his assistant. Yes, ever since he recovered his memory and became the high and mighty head of the Thornton family again, I’d become his invisible household assistant. “Oh, just an assistant.” Melanie smiled meaningfully, picking up a glass of red wine and walking toward me. “You worked hard taking care of Holt tonight. This drink is for you.” She held out the wine glass. I bit my lower lip, about to reach for it. “Oh my!” Melanie suddenly cried out, her wrist tilting, spilling the entire glass of red wine on my ill-fitting black dress. The liquid ran down my chest, utterly humiliating. A few drops also splattered on Melanie’s dress. “Why are you so careless?” Melanie frowned, her tone full of grievance. “This is the dress Holt specially had flown in from Paris for me.” I jerked my head up. “I didn’t touch you at all!” “Enough.” An icy voice crashed down from above, carrying undeniable authority. Holt strode over, pulling Melanie behind him, his brow furrowed as he stared at me. “Holt, I think her nail scratched the back of my hand. It hurts a little.” Melanie nestled behind him, murmuring softly. Holt looked down, seeing an extremely faint red mark on Melanie’s pale hand, and the temperature around him instantly dropped to freezing. He raised his head, looking at me like I was a vicious criminal. “Apologize.” He commanded. “I didn’t push her, and I didn’t scratch her. She spilled the wine on me herself!” I clenched my dress tightly. “Sage, I told you to apologize.” Holt’s voice lowered a few degrees, dripping with impatience. “Don’t embarrass me in a place like this. Where are your manners?” Embarrassing. Manners. These words carved into my heart like knives. I looked at this cold, handsome man before me. He’d forgotten. Three years ago, when he’d injured his brain, penniless and starving, collapsed at my rental apartment door, it was this “ill-mannered” woman who fed him the last spoonful of hot soup. Now, he stood high above, and I’d become the embarrassing stain. I gave a bitter laugh, closed my eyes, and forced back the tears. “I’m sorry, Miss Davis.” With that, I turned and walked out of the ballroom step by step under everyone’s mocking gazes. Without looking back.

Sage’s POV In late autumn San Diego, a torrential rain poured down. I had no umbrella and no car. Holt’s drivers were all outside the ballroom waiting to pick him up with Melanie. I could only brave the rain, walking mechanically forward. The rain hammered my body, bone-chillingly cold, yet it couldn’t match the coldness in my heart. My heel twisted in a puddle, and a sharp pain shot through my ankle. I stumbled and fell heavily onto the muddy sidewalk. My palms scraped raw, mixing with rainwater, the pain drilling to the bone. I lay on the ground, suddenly lacking the strength to get up. It was also a rainy day. Three years ago, on that thunderstorm night, the roof of our little attic leaked, water flooding the floor. It was the second month after I’d brought Holt home. He couldn’t remember anything, only knew his name was Evan. That night, I also twisted my ankle while going downstairs to buy instant noodles, falling into the mud and crying. This man who didn’t even own a decent set of clothes, not even holding an umbrella, rushed downstairs like crazy, pulled me from the muddy water, and held me tightly in his arms. “Don’t be afraid, Sage. Evan’s here. Evan will carry you home.” He carried me on his broad back, rainwater dripping from his strong jawline. He walked very steadily. That day he said. “Sage, whenever it rains from now on, I’ll never let you walk a single step. I’ll be your legs.” Later, to buy me a box of imported medicine for my foot injury, he washed dishes at a restaurant for three days until his hands were raw and swollen. I cried from heartache, but he just smiled and kissed my eyes. “As long as Sage doesn’t hurt, I can endure anything.” The warmth of that memory was scorching, making reality that much colder. I don’t know how long I sat in the rain, until a black sedan sped past me. The wheels ran through a puddle, splashing me with dirty water. By the dim streetlight, I made out the license plate. It was Holt’s car. Through the half-lowered window, Melanie leaned on his shoulder as he turned his head to listen to her speak, his profile showing a gentleness he’d never given me. He didn’t even glance toward the roadside. Naturally, he didn’t see me lying there. I suddenly laughed, tears mixing with rainwater streaming down. Dead. My Evan had died the day he recovered his memory, in that shabby attic. The one alive now was the high and mighty CEO of Thornton Corporation, Holt Thornton. When I limped back to the villa, it was already two in the morning. This mansion covering several thousand square feet on the hillside felt as empty as a gorgeous tomb. I didn’t even turn on the lights, fumbling my way to the bathroom in the dark, rinsing my numb, frozen body with hot water. Water flowed over my collarbone. Below it was a very deep scar. It was left when Evan saved me, taking a thug’s knife meant for me. Back then he held me, blood flowing endlessly, yet still comforted me. “Sage, I’ll keep this scar, so even if you try to run away, you’ll remember me when you see it.” Now, the scar remained, but the person had changed. After showering, I curled up on the large bed, forcing myself to close my eyes. I don’t know how much time passed before the bedroom door was violently pushed open. A man reeking of alcohol and faintly of perfume walked in. Holt yanked off his tie and pressed down on me directly. He didn’t turn on the light, his movements rough without a trace of tenderness. “It hurts…” I frowned, reaching up to push him away. But Holt grabbed my wrists, pinning them firmly above my head. His warm breath sprayed against my neck as he spoke with icy cruelty. “Why did you make a scene at the banquet tonight? Isn’t the money I usually give you enough?” My heart stopped beating. In the darkness, I opened my eyes wide. “Holt, you think I did it for money?” Holt gave a cold laugh, lowering his head to bite my collarbone, right where that scar was. “What else? When you kept an amnesiac me all those years ago, wasn’t it because you saw that million-dollar watch on me, calculating that my identity must be wealthy or noble?” A roaring sound filled my head. I felt something in my brain completely explode.

Sage’s POV I never imagined that in Holt’s heart, my saving him three years ago was a calculated investment. “That watch… you had a high fever and got sick. I sold it to pay your hospital bill.” My voice trembled. “The buyer said it was a fake watch and only gave me two hundred dollars. That day, I donated four hundred milliliters of blood to scrape together your medical expenses.” In the darkness, Holt’s movements suddenly stopped. But his voice quickly grew even colder. “Enough. Stop bringing up those old things to emphasize your contributions. These three years, the material compensation I’ve given you could buy you a hundred of those dumps.” Old things. Those three years of struggling through life and death together, in his eyes, had become dismissible old things. He had no foreplay, possessing me almost like a punishment. I bit down hard on the pillow, not letting out a single whimper. I stared at the ceiling with open eyes. In this sexual encounter, there was only release, no love. After it was over, Holt got up and went to the bathroom. The sound of running water started. I lay on the bed, my whole body aching. On the nightstand, Holt’s phone suddenly lit up. It was a message. The screen wasn’t locked, and the message popped up directly. Melanie: “Holt, I’ve already had people release tonight’s media statement. Your mother loves the buzz about our engagement. Get some rest early.” Immediately following was a design sketch. It was a draft of custom wedding rings from a top-tier brand. I stared at the glaring word “engagement,” my stomach churning, and suddenly leaned over the edge of the bed retching. Holt walked out from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, frowning at me. “What now?” His tone carried undisguised impatience. “If you’re not feeling well, go find the housekeeper to get you medicine. Don’t play pitiful in front of me.” I raised my head. I pointed at the lit phone screen. “You’re getting engaged?” Holt followed my finger, his expression darkening imperceptibly. But he quickly regained his cold demeanor. He walked over to pick up his phone, saying flatly. “Just a business marriage. It’s just a publicity stunt for the two families’ cooperation, to reassure shareholders. You don’t understand these things, so don’t ask.” “I don’t understand?” I laughed. “Holt Thornton, I don’t understand. I don’t understand why, if you’re marrying her, you still keep me locked in this cage. Why did you watch her humiliate me tonight?” “Sage!” Holt’s eyes turned completely cold. “Don’t forget your position. I let you live in this villa, gave you a life of luxury. You should know your place. Don’t compare yourself to Melanie. You can’t compare.” You can’t compare. Yes, what could I compare with? She was a wealthy heiress; I was just a poor woman struggling in the mud at the bottom. “Fine.” I suddenly calmed down, looking into Holt’s eyes. “I understand.” I stopped arguing, stopped making a fuss. He didn’t say anything more, turning to go to the adjacent guest bedroom. The next morning, Holt left early for the office. I’d just started toward the kitchen to pour some water when I heard the butler respectfully open the door. “Madam, you’re here.” Holt’s mother Mrs Thornton walked in wearing haute couture, escorted by two bodyguards. Seeing me in my thin nightgown, her eyes filled with extreme disgust. She walked straight to the sofa and sat down, coldly surveying me. “Sit. I’m here today to inform you.” Mrs Thornton threw a document on the coffee table. I didn’t sit, only stared at the document. “Tomorrow, Holt will officially announce his engagement to the Davis family’s daughter. I don’t want a stain like you existing in the Thornton family’s territory.” Her tone was condescending, like dismissing a beggar. If it were before, I would have firmly told her: I’m with him not for money, and unless he personally tells me to leave, I won’t go. But now, I just stood there quietly. Mrs Thornton sneered. “Don’t expect Holt to protect you either. You really think he still cares about you? He just doesn’t want to dirty his hands getting rid of you. Take a look at this agreement.”

Sage’s POV I stepped forward and opened the agreement. Every word on it crushed what little dignity I had left. “The old city district in the south has already been acquired by Thornton Corporation. Demolition starts tomorrow.” Mrs Thornton toyed with the ring on her finger, her tone casual yet cutting with every word. “That dump you lived in for three years is on the first batch demolition list.” I jerked my head up. “That house… is our last memory.” That thirty-square-meter old house. It had the shelf Evan had nailed up for me with his own hands, the secondhand sofa we’d saved up to buy, and on the wall was the height chart Evan had drawn bit by bit with a pencil for both of us. That was my only home left in this world. “Memory?” She looked like she’d heard the biggest joke. “You used that filthy pigsty to hold my Thornton heir hostage for three years of his youth. You think that’s a memory? I think it’s the Thornton family’s greatest shame!” Mrs Thornton’s eyes suddenly turned vicious. “Sign this voluntary departure statement, take this fifty million, and disappear from Holt’s world forever. That ruin I can decide to leave standing.” “If you still won’t leave…” She stood up, looking down at me from above. “Not only that house, but you won’t survive in this city at all.” I stared hard at the document on the coffee table. My fingers trembled violently. My last shred of resistance was crumbling. I didn’t want to take this money, but even more, I couldn’t let the last traces of “Evan’s” existence be crushed by bulldozers. “Fine.” After a long while, I heard my hoarse voice speak. “I’ll sign. But I don’t want the money. Please don’t demolish the house.” Mrs Thornton was clearly stunned for a moment, then pushed the agreement in front of me, her face full of mockery. “At least you know what’s good for you.” After shakily signing “Sage” on the document, she left with her people in a grand procession. The villa returned to deathly silence. I looked at the calendar. Today was Wednesday. Tomorrow, Holt would announce his engagement. I took a deep breath, changed into clean clothes, grabbed my bag, and left. I wanted to see Holt one last time. Not to beg him to stay, just to say a complete goodbye. I took a cab to Thornton Corporation. The towering skyscraper reached into the clouds. This was Holt’s kingdom now. I walked to the front desk and said softly. “I’d like to see Mr. Thornton.” The receptionist looked me up and down. “Do you have an appointment?” She asked coldly. “No… could you please make a call for me? Just say it’s Sage…” “I’m sorry, too many women come every day pretending to look for Mr. Thornton.” The receptionist cut me off without mercy. “No appointment, no entry. Security, please escort this woman out.” I was forcefully pushed out by security. Just as I was being pushed through the revolving door, a group of bodyguards in suits cleared the way, and Holt walked out of the private elevator. Beside him were not only executives but also Melanie. “Holt, shall we go try on wedding dresses this Friday?” Melanie held his arm, her face radiant with smiles. Holt nodded slightly. Though his expression was indifferent, he didn’t refuse. He looked up and inadvertently caught sight of me being shoved outside the glass doors by security. Our eyes met. I hoped he would stop. But Holt’s brow instantly furrowed. He said something in a low voice to his special assistant Jeff, then escorted Melanie through the VIP passage on the other side and directly got in the car. Not even a second’s pause. Jeff hurried out and stopped me as I tried to move forward. “Miss Sage.” The assistant’s tone was businesslike and cold. “Mr. Thornton says don’t run around everywhere embarrassing yourself. He has an important business dinner tonight and asks you to go home first.” Embarrassing. This was Holt’s only evaluation of me now. I watched that sedan drive away, and finally cried. I didn’t go home. I went to the old city district in the south.

Sage’s POV The old district was cordoned off with warning tape. I bypassed the tape and climbed up that familiar, dilapidated building. I reached the familiar door number and had just taken out my key to unlock it. The enormous roar of excavators sounded outside the building. I ran to the window in terror and looked down. Several large excavators were leveling this area. “Wait! There’s someone inside!” I shouted down at them. But the machinery was too loud. No one could hear me. Half of this building’s load-bearing walls had already been knocked down, and the entire structure was shaking violently. Glass shattered, dust filled the air. These people weren’t starting tomorrow at all. They’d come early today to clear the site! Mrs Thornton had lied to me. Even though I’d signed, she’d never planned to preserve this “Thornton family disgrace.” “Don’t demolish it! Don’t demolish it!” I ran downstairs like mad, rushing in front of the excavator and spreading my arms to block it. The lead worker was startled, quickly stopped the machine, got out, and cursed. “Crazy woman, you want to die? Thornton Corporation bought this land ages ago. It has to be leveled today!” “This is my home!” I screamed. “What home? You don’t even have a property deed. Get lost!” The workers came up to drag me away. I clung desperately to a pillar and took out my phone. At a time like this, the only person I could call for help was the owner of this land. I dialed Holt’s number. Once, he hung up. Twice, he hung up. On the third try, the call finally connected. Only it wasn’t Holt’s voice on the other end. “Hello?” Melanie’s coquettish voice came through the receiver, with a hint of lazy displeasure at being disturbed. “Holt’s in the shower. Miss Sage, be tactful and don’t call at a time like this to spoil the mood.” My brain buzzed, going completely blank. He was at the office this afternoon, and at seven in the evening they were showering. What kind of shower, it was obvious. Overwhelming despair flooded over me like a tide. I clutched my phone tightly. “Melanie, give the phone to Holt, please… help me give him the phone! Thornton Corporation is demolishing the south district houses, and my things are inside!” “Oh, the south district house.” Melanie laughed lightly on the other end. “That was his mother’s idea. But Holt also signed the approval just now. After all, trash from that kind of slum really doesn’t deserve to exist.” Trash. The shelf Evan made with his own hands, the height chart Evan drew. The time we spent keeping each other warm was trash. “He knew…” I murmured, tears quietly streaming down. “He actually knew everything…” The call was mercilessly disconnected. The workers lost patience, yanked me aside, and roughly pushed me to the ground. “Stop wasting time. Start work!” With a tremendous crash, the small attic that held all my love and hope from three years collapsed under the excavator’s swing. In the dust cloud, I lay on the ground. For a moment, I felt my heart had also shattered with this building into fragments, buried in the rubble. I had nothing left. When I left that ruins, the sky had turned completely dark. I walked home in a daze, dragging my feet. My phone vibrated. It was a text from the assistant: “Miss Sage, Mr. Thornton is at Nightshade Club in VIP room 888. He wants you to change clothes and come immediately.” I looked at the words on the screen without saying anything. I didn’t change clothes. I just wore those clothes covered in dirt and dust, put on flat shoes, and took a cab to “Nightshade.”

Sage’s POV The moment I pushed open the private room door. The noise inside came to an abrupt halt. Everyone’s eyes fell on me. Holt sat on the black leather sofa in the center. The lighting in the room was dim and ambiguous. His shirt collar was slightly open, sleeves rolled to his forearms, fingertips holding a half-burned cigarette. Melanie nestled obediently at his side, holding a glass of fruit wine. Seeing me, Holt’s brow visibly furrowed. “What the hell happened to you?” His tone was full of disgust, without a trace of concern. I stood in the doorway looking at him. After a long while, I asked in a hoarse voice. “You signed to have the house in the south district demolished. Is that right?” The people in the room exchanged glances, the atmosphere instantly freezing. Holt stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, looking at me coldly. “That dump should have been torn down ages ago. Didn’t Mom give you compensation? Don’t be so greedy.” “Dump…” I laughed. It looked worse than crying. “That was your favorite place to be! In winter when the wind came through, you’d hold me in your arms all night; in summer with no air conditioning, you’d fan me all night long!” My voice grew louder and louder, my emotions teetering on the edge of collapse. “Holt Thornton, that was our home! How could you… how could you destroy it like garbage!” “Shut up!” Holt’s face turned iron-gray as he stood up abruptly. The men around didn’t dare breathe. “Holt, don’t be angry.” Melanie stood up at just the right moment, grabbing Holt’s arm, then turned to look at me, her eyes full of malicious provocation. “Miss Sage, the past is the past. Holt is going to be the Thornton family head now. How can he keep such an unseemly past?” She poured a full glass of liquor. It was high-proof vodka mixed with red wine. “Since you’re here, have a drink.” Melanie held the glass in front of me. “I heard Miss Sage has a bad stomach, but everyone here is someone of status. Miss Sage should at least give us this much face, right?” Everyone was watching me. I had severe gastric ulcers. Three years ago, to treat Holt, I worked three jobs a day, often eating only one piece of bread all day, and ruined my stomach. During one gastric hemorrhage episode, Evan knelt outside the emergency room crying and slapping himself, swearing he’d never let me touch alcohol again. I turned to look at Holt. “Do you want me to drink too?” If he just said one word, don’t drink. I would forgive him for destroying the house today. But Holt only coldly averted his gaze, sat back down on the sofa, and picked up a glass of wine to swirl it. “Melanie poured you a drink. That’s doing you a favor. Drink it and get lost. Don’t kill everyone’s mood here.” The last steel wire hanging over the cliff snapped. I looked at this familiar yet strange face. Fine. Just fine. I reached out and took that glass of liquor. A flash of triumph crossed Melanie’s eyes. I tilted my head back and downed that glass of harsh liquid without even furrowing my brow. The alcohol cut through my esophagus like a blade, landing in my already fragile stomach. Instantly igniting a raging fire. Bang. I slammed the empty glass heavily on the coffee table. A sharp, twisting pain tore through my stomach, as if something inside was ripping me apart. Large beads of cold sweat broke out on my forehead. But I clenched my teeth and didn’t cry out. I looked deeply at Holt one last time. Without waiting for anyone to speak, I clutched my stomach, bent over, turned, and walked out of the private room. The moment I turned around, Holt’s fingers holding the cigarette trembled uncontrollably. But I didn’t care anymore.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379125”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Our third anniversary. I waited all night. But my husband was with his lover, protecting her baby. He forced me, pregnant, to apologize to his mistress and called me cruel. They forced me to down seven glasses of liquor. Before I passed out from vomiting blood, I told him. “The child in my belly was killed by your own hands. Are you satisfied now?” He knelt and begged for forgiveness like a madman. But he didn’t know that I had already taken the check his mother gave me and flown to a world without him. This time, I would make sure he regretted it for the rest of his life. Natalie’s POV The clock hand slowly slid past midnight. I sat at the empty dining table, staring at the completely melted ice cream cake in front of me. Today was our third wedding anniversary. It was also the day Ethan promised that no matter how busy he was, he would rush home to be with me. But he broke his promise. Outside the window, thunder and lightning raged. Lightning split the pitch-black sky, illuminating the villa’s pale walls in a blinding flash. I took out my phone. The screen was completely empty. Not a single message. Not one missed call. I took a deep breath and dialed the number I knew by heart. The phone rang for a long time before someone answered. “Hello.” The man’s voice carried a trace of fatigue and impatience. “Ethan, when are you coming home? I’m still waiting for you.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but my fingers nervously twisted the corner of my clothes. There was two seconds of silence on the other end. Then, a delicate female voice suddenly came through, tinged with a suppressed sob. “Ethan… I’m scared…” My heart sank suddenly, as if plunging into a bottomless ice cellar. Vivian. It was Vivian again. “Natalie,” Ethan’s tone instantly turned cold, carrying an unquestionable commanding tone. “Something happened with Vivian. She’s been afraid of thunder since childhood, and today she’s very emotionally unstable. I’m not coming home tonight. Go to bed early.” “But today is our-” “Natalie!” He raised his voice and cut me off. “Vivian can’t be left alone right now. Can’t you be understanding? It’s just an anniversary. We’ll have plenty of time to make it up later. Stop being so unreasonable!” Unreasonable? I forced a bitter smile, my eyes burning. In three years of marriage, whenever Vivian made one phone call, even if it was the middle of the night, even if Ethan had a high fever, he would push me away without hesitation and rush to that woman. “Ethan, I’m only going to ask you one thing.” I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting blood. “If you don’t go out today, will you actually die?” “What are you going crazy about?” Ethan was clearly angry. “Vivian has severe depression. If she does something foolish, can you take responsibility? Natalie, when did you become so vicious!” The call was mercilessly disconnected. I stared blankly at the darkened screen, and tears finally broke through like a dam. Vicious? I just wanted my own husband to stay home on our third anniversary and eat a piece of cake with me. And that made me vicious? I stood up and walked to the dining room trash can. I took the cake I’d spent all afternoon making by hand, the one that had burned my hand when I unmolded it, and threw it in, plate and all. Cream splattered everywhere, just like my three year marriage, falling apart into something unrecognizable. At two in the morning, the rain fell even harder. My head felt like it was splitting, and my stomach churned with waves of pain. I already had a stomach condition. Today, waiting for Ethan, I hadn’t had a drop of water since noon. I fumbled to get my stomach medicine from the drawer, only to find the bottle had long been empty. Pain. Piercing pain. I curled up on the sofa, cold sweat soaking through my thin nightgown. I wanted to call Ethan, but thinking of his earlier word “vicious,” my fingertips froze. With trembling hands, I called my assistant Jake. Half an hour later, Jake arrived with an umbrella and took me, nearly unconscious from pain, to the hospital. By the time I was hooked up to an IV, dawn had already broken. The emergency room corridor was cold and deserted, with only the pungent smell of disinfectant making me want to vomit. I leaned against the hospital bed, watching the IV drip down drop by drop, my eyes vacant. “Miss Davis, you really can’t keep putting off this stomach condition. You need to eat on time. Where’s your family? Why are you here alone?” When the nurse came to change my medication, she couldn’t help but ask. “He’s… busy.” I lowered my eyes. Just then, urgent footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor. I instinctively looked up, but the moment I saw who it was, my blood instantly froze. Ethan. He wore the same trench coat he’d had on when he left last night. In his arms, he carefully cradled a woman. The woman buried her face deep in his chest, wearing his suit jacket draped over her. “Doctor! Where’s the doctor? She slit her wrists!” Ethan’s voice carried unprecedented panic and loss of control. This was an Ethan I had never seen. Even when we got married and he read his vows, he had only looked indifferent. But now, for Vivian, even his voice was trembling. The two rushed past my hospital room. Ethan’s gaze was locked on the person in his arms. He didn’t even glance sideways. I stared at that retreating figure, feeling the stabbing pain in my stomach spread to my heart. It hurt so much that even breathing became a luxury.

Natalie’s POV Vivian was successfully resuscitated. Actually, the wound wasn’t deep. The doctor said it only broke the surface skin and didn’t even need stitches, just bandaging. But Ethan acted as if it were a matter of life and death. He insisted on arranging the highest-level VIP room for her and stayed by her side every moment. I pulled out the IV needle and, supporting my weak body, shuffled step by step to the VIP room entrance. The door was ajar. The voices inside clearly hammered into my ears. “Ethan, I’m sorry… I’ve caused you trouble again.” Vivian leaned against the headboard, her eyes red and rimmed with tears that fell like broken pearls. “I was just so scared. The sound of thunder made me feel like the whole world had abandoned me. I know yesterday was your anniversary with Natalie. I shouldn’t have bothered you. You should go back. Natalie must be angry with me…” The more she spoke, the more aggrieved she became, clutching the blanket, her thin shoulders shaking. Ethan sat by the bed and gently reached up to wipe away her tears, his movements so tender they could drip water. “Don’t overthink it.” He softened his voice, his tone full of indulgence and heartache. “Whether she’s angry or not doesn’t matter. Your health is what’s most important. Don’t ever do something this foolish again, understand?” “But Natalie…” “Don’t worry about her.” Ethan frowned, a flash of disgust in his eyes. “If she doesn’t even have this much tolerance, she doesn’t deserve to sit in the position of Mrs. Shaw.” I stood outside the door, feeling as if all the blood had been drained from my body in an instant. Doesn’t deserve. So in my husband’s heart, I didn’t even have the right to be angry. If I didn’t accommodate Vivian, I lacked tolerance and didn’t deserve my position. I took a deep breath and suddenly pushed open the ajar door. “Bang!” The two people in the room simultaneously turned their heads. Vivian shrank into Ethan’s arms like a startled deer, her voice trembling as she called out. “Natalie…” Ethan’s face instantly darkened. He immediately used his body to shield Vivian, as if protecting a rare treasure, and looked at me coldly. “What are you doing here?” His gaze landed on my face but didn’t linger for half a second, only filled with questioning. “Who told you to find this place?” “This is a hospital. Why can’t I be here?” I pulled at my dry, cracked lips and smiled. “Ethan, I’m your wife. Can’t I come visit your ‘little sister’?” I deliberately emphasized the words “little sister.” Ethan’s brow furrowed even tighter. He stood up, strode over to me, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me toward the door. “Natalie, stop being disgusting! Vivian just suffered a shock and can’t handle your attitude. Get out of here right now!” His grip was extremely strong. Already weak, I stumbled when he yanked me, and my knee slammed hard into the door frame. Piercing pain. But I didn’t cry out. I just stared at the man in front of me. “Ethan, I had acute gastric bleeding last night. I was alone in the emergency room on an IV all night.” My voice was very soft. “When you were holding her and shouting for help, did you ever think that your wife was also dying from pain?” Ethan froze for a moment. His gaze unconsciously fell on the back of my hand. There was indeed a bruise there, left from when I’d pulled out the IV needle. A flash of panic crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by irritation. “You’re standing right here, aren’t you?” His face was cold, his voice stiff. “A stomachache. Just take some medicine. Did you have to come here at this moment to play the victim in front of Vivian? Natalie, you weren’t this petty before.” Petty? Playing the victim? I suddenly felt the absurdity of it all. I burst out laughing, laughing until tears came out. “Yes, I’m petty. I’m playing the victim. Vivian barely scratches her skin and it’s life or death, but my gastric bleeding is my own fault, right?” I forcefully shook off Ethan’s hand and took a step back. “Ethan, you disgust me.” With that, I turned and walked away, my spine straight. But only I knew that my heart had shattered into powder at this moment. Ethan instinctively took a step forward, as if wanting to grab me. “Ethan…” Vivian on the bed suddenly clutched her chest and let out a pained moan. “My chest hurts so much…” Ethan immediately stopped and rushed back to the bed. “Doctor! Get a doctor here immediately!” In the corridor, I listened to the anxious shouts behind me, and tears silently fell from the corners of my eyes. This round, I lost again. And I lost completely.

Natalie’s POV Three days later, the Shaw family estate held a banquet. I didn’t want to go, but Ethan’s grandfather, Samuel Shaw, personally called me. I was only able to marry into the Shaw family because he insisted, despite everyone’s opposition. In this family, Samuel was the only person who genuinely cared about me. I put on slightly heavier makeup to cover the haggardness from days of insomnia and stomach pain. As soon as I walked into the living room, the originally lively atmosphere instantly turned cold. Everyone’s gaze fell behind me. I turned around. Ethan had his arm around Vivian’s shoulder and was slowly walking in. Vivian wore a pure white haute couture gown, like a fragile porcelain doll, frail and boneless as she leaned against the man. That dress was a globally limited edition from a certain luxury brand. I’d seen it once in a magazine and casually mentioned it looked nice. At the time, Ethan promised it would be my third anniversary gift. Now, that dress was on Vivian. How ironic. “Natalie, don’t misunderstand.” Seeing me, Vivian immediately pulled away from Ethan as if electrocuted, nervously clutching her dress. “Mr. Shaw said the banquet would be lively. Ethan was afraid I’d be bored alone in the hospital, so he brought me to get some fresh air.” How thoughtful. I watched her clumsy performance coldly and said word by word: “Since when are outsiders allowed at Shaw family banquets?” As soon as I spoke, the surroundings fell silent enough to hear a pin drop. Ethan’s expression instantly sank to rock bottom. He pulled Vivian back to his side, his gaze cutting at me like a knife. “Natalie, watch your words. Vivian is my lifesaver. In this family, she is not an outsider.” Lifesaver. That damned lifesaver again. Years ago, when Ethan was kidnapped, Vivian took a knife for him. Because of that one knife, Ethan worshipped Vivian like a deity, giving her the stars if not the moon. I took a deep breath. Just as I was about to speak, Samuel came down from upstairs with his cane. “What’s all this noise!” Samuel’s authoritative voice echoed through the hall. He walked downstairs, glared fiercely at Ethan, then waved at me. “Natalie, come help me to the dining room.” Suppressing my bitterness, I walked over and supported Samuel. During the meal, the atmosphere was bizarrely tense. Vivian sat next to Ethan like a person who couldn’t take care of herself. She wanted soup, Ethan personally ladled it for her. She looked at the shrimp in the distance, Ethan put on gloves to peel them for her. All his gentleness, all his patience, went entirely to her. And I, the legitimate Mrs. Shaw, was ignored by everyone. “Ethan, I want to eat that salmon.” Vivian pointed at the poached salmon in front of me. Samuel had specifically ordered the kitchen to make it for me. Without even glancing at me, Ethan stood up and placed it in front of Vivian. “Eat more. You’re too thin.” My grip on my chopsticks tightened sharply. “Enough!” Samuel finally couldn’t take it anymore and slammed his chopsticks on the table. “Ethan, do you even see your wife anymore?!” Ethan paused, his tone flat but rebellious. “Vivian’s body is weak. She needs nutrition. Natalie is healthy. She can eat anything.” Can eat anything. My stomach began to ache faintly again. After the banquet ended, Samuel called Ethan to the study. I walked alone to the back garden for air. The night breeze was cool, blowing against my face and clearing my head somewhat. “Natalie.” A ghostly voice sounded behind me. I turned around to see Vivian holding a glass of red wine, slowly walking toward me. Where was the frail, helpless appearance from the dining table? Now her eyes were full of provocation and triumph. “Can I help you?” I looked at her coldly. “Nothing much. Just wanted to thank you.” Vivian walked up to me and looked down at her white dress. “This dress is so beautiful. Ethan said only I deserve to wear it. What do you think, Natalie?” I smiled instead of getting angry. “Someone else’s hand-me-down trash that you treat like treasure. I have nothing to say.” Vivian’s face instantly twisted. “Natalie, what are you so smug about?” She lowered her voice. “You think occupying the position of Mrs. Shaw means anything? Ethan doesn’t love you at all! He won’t even touch you!” “Whether he touches me or not is none of your business. As long as I don’t divorce, you’ll forever be a mistress who can’t show her face in public.” I didn’t back down. “Is that so?” Vivian suddenly smiled strangely. The next second, she violently splashed the red wine in her hand onto her own dress, then grabbed my hand and shoved it hard against herself. Vivian screamed and rolled down the steps. I stood frozen, not yet understanding what had happened, when a dark figure charged over like an enraged leopard. “Vivian!” Ethan shoved me aside, the force so great it threw me directly into the nearby rose bushes. Sharp thorns pierced my palm, and blood immediately gushed out. But Ethan couldn’t see it at all. He picked up Vivian, who lay on the ground crying, then looked up at me with eyes that wanted to kill me. “Natalie, if anything happens to the child in Vivian’s belly, I’ll make you pay with your life!” Like a thunderbolt from clear skies. I sat collapsed in the thorny rose bushes, letting blood drip down, yet feeling no pain at all. Child. Vivian was pregnant. So this was what he meant when he said he wouldn’t even touch me.

Natalie’s POV I don’t know how I made it back to the villa. The wound in my palm from the rose thorns was deep enough to see flesh, dried blood crusted on my pale skin, a shocking sight. But I sat on the sofa, paying no attention. In my mind, I kept replaying Ethan’s furious and cruel eyes when he picked up Vivian, and those words: “If anything happens to the child in Vivian’s belly, I’ll make you pay with your life.” He wanted me to pay with my life. For Vivian’s child. These three years, to cure his stomach condition, I enrolled in cooking classes. To have common topics with him, I stayed up late reading boring business reports. To please his family, I endured countless grievances. I thought even a stone could be warmed. But it turned out the stone was only cold to me. Suddenly, a sharp wave of nausea surged up from my stomach. I rushed into the bathroom and violently vomited over the toilet. I hadn’t eaten anything in the evening. What came up was all acid, and by the end, there were even faint traces of blood. I leaned weakly against the cold tiles, my hand trembling as it touched my lower abdomen. A few days ago, feeling unwell, I had taken a pregnancy test. Two lines. I had planned to tell Ethan this good news on our third anniversary. I thought that with a child, the ice between us might finally melt. But now it seemed everything was a complete joke. Ding. My phone suddenly received a message. I opened the screen. It was a photo from Vivian. In the photo, Ethan was asleep lying against the hospital bed, his hand tightly holding Vivian’s, their fingers interlocked. Beside it was an ultrasound report. Though I couldn’t see the specific data, those two words were particularly glaring: Early pregnancy. Then a voice message came through. I opened it with trembling hands. “Natalie, the doctor says the baby is very healthy. Ethan said once he settles things with you, he’ll give me and the baby a proper home. You’ve occupied him for three years. It’s time to be sensible and give up your position. After all, the person who isn’t loved is the real third party.” The person who isn’t loved is the real third party. These words were like a rusty dull knife, repeatedly pulling and cutting at my heart, so painful I could barely breathe. I opened my contacts, looked at the name “Ethan,” and called. After three rings, it was answered. “Are you ever going to stop?” The man’s voice on the other end suppressed anger, even deliberately lowered to avoid waking the person beside him. “Vivian just fell asleep. What game are you playing now?” I took a deep breath. “Ethan, is it true she’s pregnant?” There was an eerie silence for a few seconds on the other end. “Yes.” Ethan’s voice no longer hid anything, carrying a kind of reckless indifference. “Since you already know, there’s no need for me to hide it. This child was an accident, but since it exists, I have to be responsible.” “Responsible?” I laughed. “You’re being responsible to her. What about me? I’m your wife. You cheated during our marriage and got someone else pregnant. Don’t you feel even a bit sorry for me?” “Natalie, don’t use that victim tone with me!” Ethan completely lost his patience. “If my grandfather hadn’t threatened to die, do you think I would have married you? These three years, you’ve held the title of Mrs. Shaw and enjoyed wealth and privilege most people never experience. What more do you want? I haven’t even settled with you for pushing Vivian tonight. You’d better behave!” “What if I said I didn’t push her at all?” My voice trembled. “Enough! I saw it with my own eyes. Can that be fake? You’re hopeless!” The call was once again mercilessly disconnected. I closed my eyes. Tears silently slid from the corners, shattering into a puddle on the cold tiles. I thought I would be hysterical, thought I would break down crying. But when this moment truly arrived, I found my heart was completely hollow. All my expectations, all my love, crumbled at his words “hopeless.” Early the next morning, I went to the hospital. But not to the VIP ward. I went to the obstetrics department. On the way out this morning, my mind was in a daze. I fell down the stairs and miscarried on the spot. I cried my heart out. I’m sorry, baby. Mommy can’t bring you into this world to suffer. Your father has already given all his love to someone else. Rather than have you born unwanted, it’s better you never appeared at all. From now on, Ethan and I are finished.

Natalie’s POV After the miscarriage, I left the hospital and went straight back to the villa. This house I’d lived in for three years was filled everywhere with traces of my careful arrangement. The plants I’d personally grown on the balcony, the throw pillows I’d chosen for the sofa, even the matching couple’s mugs on the coffee table. I thought this was home. It was actually just a gilded cage. I walked into the bedroom and pulled out the suitcase from the bottom of the closet. I didn’t take any of the designer bags or expensive jewelry Ethan bought me. Only the few old clothes I’d brought when I came, and some necessities. When I reached the nightstand, I saw that velvet box. Inside was the wedding ring. A diamond the size of a quail’s egg, dazzling and brilliant. When we got married, Ethan had his assistant randomly pick out the ring. He said he was too busy and didn’t have time to try it on. I removed the ring and placed it in the box, gently closing it. Everything was over. I sat at the desk and took out a document I’d drafted long ago from the drawer. Divorce Agreement. Without a moment’s hesitation, I signed “Natalie Davis” in the wife’s signature column. I had not a shred of reluctance. I asked for nothing and left with nothing. As long as I could escape this man, I found even a single penny dirty. After neatly placing the divorce agreement and wedding ring in the most visible spot on the dining table, I dragged my suitcase to the entryway. Just then, the door suddenly beeped open. Ethan walked in, travel-worn. He still carried the smell of hospital disinfectant, exhaustion written all over his face. Seeing me standing in the entryway holding a suitcase, his brow instantly knotted into a tight frown. “What are you making a fuss about now?” Ethan looked at me coldly, his tone full of impatience. “Vivian’s been in the hospital these past few days preserving her pregnancy. I don’t have time to come back and perform this running-away-from-home act with you.” He stopped in front of me, his gaze sweeping over the cheap old suitcase in my hand, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes. “What? Upset I didn’t spend time with you, so you’re using this trick to force me to give in?” He loosened his tie and casually tossed his suit jacket on the sofa. “Natalie, can’t you be more mature? Vivian is pregnant and her body is very weak. I was there taking care of her, not playing around. Can’t you be understanding and stop causing trouble at times like this?” Understanding. Causing trouble. Looking at this man I’d loved for seven years and been married to for three, I only felt he was terrifyingly unfamiliar. I suddenly felt like laughing, and I actually did laugh. “What are you laughing at?” Ethan was extremely irritated. “Nothing.” I shook my head, looking at him like a complete stranger. “Ethan, I’m not making a fuss, and I’m not performing. I’m really leaving.” “Leaving?” Ethan seemed to hear the world’s biggest joke. He stepped closer, looking down at me from above. “Natalie, without me, you don’t even have the capital to survive in this city! The moment you walk out that door, tomorrow you’ll come crawling back like a dog begging me to let you return!” I looked at him without arguing, just quietly looking. “Say whatever you want.” I gripped the suitcase handle tightly. “I’ve left everything behind. The divorce agreement is on the dining table. I’ve already signed it. Whenever you have time, we’ll go process it. If you’re not available, you can have your lawyer contact me.” Ethan froze. He instinctively turned to look at the dining table. There was indeed a document there, with that familiar velvet box on top. “Fine. Very good.” Ethan laughed in anger, pointing at the door. “Natalie, you brought this on yourself. Step out that door, and don’t ever expect me to look at you again.” “That suits me perfectly.” Without any hesitation, without even looking at him again, I walked past him, pushed open the door, and left without looking back. Bang! The security door slammed shut behind me with a heavy thud. Inside the villa, silence fell like death. I stood outside the door and took a deep breath. I didn’t look back. Because I truly didn’t love him anymore.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379126”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

She stole my identity to become a wealthy heiress. As I lay bleeding out and dying, she took my family heirloom, looking down at me with a solemn promise: “I will live a good life for you.” But just as she reached the absolute peak of her glamorous new life, I came back from the dead. 1. The Sterling family was gathered in the living room, their expressions a mix of shock and complex emotions. A manila folder of DNA results sat on the coffee table. I sat casually on the sofa, my expression calm, waiting for the final verdict to drop. No one could have ever imagined that the current darling of high society, the beloved Sterling heiress, was nothing but a fraud. A cheap knockoff. Right as the atmosphere peaked in its awkwardness, the door was pushed open. The other main character of this little drama had arrived. The bright smile on her face hadn’t yet faded; she was clearly in a fantastic mood. Turning her head and seeing the entire family gathered together, she froze for a second before cheerfully greeting everyone one by one. That is, until her gaze landed on my back. Sensing her stare, the corners of my lips curled up. “Who is this?” she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice. Her question snapped everyone out of their daze. But no one answered her. Or rather, they didn’t know how to answer her. They looked at her with complicated expressions, a flash of deep disgust hidden in their eyes. Even her “parents,” who had doted on her unconditionally, no longer had any warmth in their gaze. Their expressions were freezing cold as they stared straight at her face. Just as she started to shift uncomfortably, I stood up from the sofa, turned around, and smiled. “Long time no see, Ms. Davis.” Before she could even process it, I met her terrified, shrinking gaze and let my smile widen. Chloe Davis instinctively tightened her grip on her designer handbag. She probably never thought she would see me alive again. 2. Five years ago, on my way to reunite with my biological family, I was caught in a horrific car crash and left on the brink of death. She ignored my pleas for help. Instead, she pried the heirloom necklace from my hand and whispered that she would “live a good life for me.” But the sickest part? That car crash only happened because I got dragged into her mess. I refused to die like that. My overwhelming will to live caught the attention of a system, which bound itself to me. As long as I completed world-hopping missions, I could earn my resurrection. It was then I learned the truth. Chloe Davis was the female lead of a dark, twisted romance novel. That day, I had accidentally saved her as she was running away from the obsessive, psychotic male lead. But because of her “protagonist halo,” she survived the resulting car crash without a scratch, while I—a mere cannon fodder—was left to bleed out. When I reached out for help, she just took my necklace and promised to live my life. She never even thought about calling an ambulance… Later, she altered her appearance just enough, took my heirloom, and claimed my identity, returning to the Sterling family to become the apple of their eye. Yet, she still couldn’t escape the psychotic male lead, Damon Vance. She kept telling herself she was “avenging me,” but in reality, she was constantly entangled with Damon, deliberately using her doting adoptive youngest uncle to make Damon jealous. Damon was a lunatic. Once the youngest uncle became his target, he was subjected to endless sabotage, eventually having both his legs broken. A proud, brilliant man was dragged straight into the mud. And because the Sterling family refused to let Chloe be with Damon, he destroyed their entire empire, leaving the family ruined and dead. But what happened to Chloe and Damon? Absolutely nothing. Instead, after going through a series of “hardships” and realizing their toxic love for each other, they got their happily ever after. The Sterling family and my life were just stepping stones for their epic romance. 3. But now, right at the beginning of it all, I was back. Without the Sterling family’s backing, she was nothing more than a caged bird meant for Damon’s twisted games. Staring at my face, Chloe couldn’t make a sound for a long time. She had zero defense, because she never factored in the possibility that I could still be breathing. “It’s been a few years. I never expected Ms. Davis to actually take my name. You even made your face look a bit like mine…” I took a slow step toward her, feigning surprise. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Smack! A sharp, ringing slap cut off Chloe’s pathetic defense, sending her face jerking to the side. “For saving your life, one slap is a bargain, Ms. Davis,” I said, rubbing my wrist with a scoff. I saved her out of the goodness of my heart, only to save an ungrateful snake. Chloe closed her eyes in humiliation, her voice turning hoarse. “This slap… I’ll count it as what I owe you. Luna Sterling, from now on, we are even.” “Mom, Dad, Grandpa… I’m sorry.” Chloe bowed deeply to the elders of the family, but they physically stepped back to avoid her. She stiffened. “We only have one child, Luna. We can’t accept such a grand gesture from you, Ms. Davis,” Mrs. Sterling said, her eyes burning with hatred now that the truth had fully sunk in. The precious daughter she had painstakingly searched for was a fake—and the indirect murderer of her real flesh and blood. “I know whatever I say, you won’t forgive me. But these past few years, I truly saw you as my real parents…” Chloe looked at Mrs. Sterling with a wounded expression, desperately trying to find a shred of pity or reluctance. She was disappointed. Aside from disgust and hatred, there was nothing. Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the front door. Someone barged in. “You actually dared to lay a hand on her?!” The furious male voice belonged to Damon Vance. He hadn’t left the perimeter. His dark, venomous eyes swept over everyone in the room. 4. “Damon, I’m fine,” Chloe said. The second Damon stepped in to shield her, tears welled up in her eyes, as if she finally had someone to pour all her grievances out to. “Did you do this?” Damon immediately locked his suspicious, murderous glare on me, the stranger in the room. I gave him a fearless, easy smile. “So what if I did? Ms. Davis accepted it willingly.” My words made Chloe’s face go rigid. “You have a death wish!” Damon was enraged. He reached out to choke me. But before anyone in the room could even react, a blur flashed before their eyes. I kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying backward onto the marble floor. You think I did all those system missions for nothing? I had faced psychos way crazier and stronger than Damon. I had learned martial arts, cultivated magic, and killed monsters. Thinking he could bully me just by being a little unhinged? He was dreaming. Damon curled up on the floor, groaning in pain. Chloe rushed to help him, her face full of concern. “Damon, are you okay? Don’t scare me!” she cried. Then she pointed her venom at me: “Luna! Don’t go too far! I already gave everything in the Sterling family back to you. Why did you have to hurt Damon?!” The resentment in her eyes was practically spilling over. She conveniently ignored the fact that Damon tried to attack me first. “Don’t make me laugh, Ms. Davis. The clothes on your back, the jewelry you’re wearing, even the ground you’re standing on—which of it doesn’t belong to the Sterling family?” I sneered, looking down at her. Chloe’s face drained of color. She bit her lip, looking down at her designer dress. All her dark, pathetic little thoughts were completely exposed in front of me. “Don’t act all high and mighty after leeching off us for years,” I said, ignoring her mental gymnastics, and took a step closer. “What are you doing?!” Chloe was on high alert, her shoulders shrinking back involuntarily. By this time, Damon had recovered slightly. He glared at me with pure hatred and cursed, “You bitch!” I laughed coldly and slammed my heel down directly onto his wrist. He broke out in a cold sweat from the pain. 5. “If you can’t speak properly, then keep your mouth shut,” I said, grinding the toe of my shoe into his wrist. “Ah! Luna Sterling, you bitch! I’ll kill you! I’m going to kill you!” Damon’s eyes were bloodshot, his expression utterly deranged. Without changing my expression, I applied more pressure. “Stop! Luna, stop! You’re going to break his wrist!” Chloe panicked. She could only scream at me to stop, not daring to physically pull me away. She was terrified I would kick her across the room just like I did him. “Mom, please! Please make her stop. I promise Damon and I will never appear in front of you again. Please, Mom…” Unable to stop me, Chloe turned to beg my mother. But Mrs. Sterling simply gave her a cold, flat look before turning away. Chloe’s heart went cold. She then threw pleading looks at my father, my older brother, my grandfather, and everyone else in the room. Not a single person stepped up to help her. Just as Chloe fell into total despair, the main doors opened again. A clear, youthful voice, tinged with confusion, rang out. “Do we have guests? Why is it so loud?” Everyone turned to look at the entryway. A teenager walked in, freezing when he saw the chaotic scene. He looked completely lost. To Chloe, he was her saving grace. “Liam! Save me!” she cried beautifully, treating Liam Sterling as her last lifeline. Liam quickly sensed the tension in the room. But this was the “sister” he had lived with for years, so his expression softened. 6. “Sister, what’s wrong?” “Liam, she is not your sister.” Mrs. Sterling stepped forward and pulled him aside. Liam was stunned. “Your only sister is Luna. This fraud, this ungrateful snake, doesn’t deserve to be called your sister.” The more Mrs. Sterling thought about it, the more she hated Chloe. Her biological daughter had done a good deed, only to have her identity stolen and be left for dead. If I hadn’t come back today, who knows how long they would have been kept in the dark? The faint smile on Liam’s face vanished completely. “No, it’s not like that… Liam, I just… I just thought…” Chloe’s defense was incredibly weak. She didn’t know what excuse would sound best. She took my identity because she “feared my family would be sad over my death”? Or because she wanted to “fulfill my dying wish of reuniting with them”? No matter how she spun it, it wasn’t exactly a noble act. “Chloe, you don’t need to explain anything to him. I’ll remember this humiliation. The Sterling family… I won’t let a single one of you off!” Damon couldn’t stand seeing Chloe beg. He arrogantly threatened everyone in the room. “Are you still tangling with this mad dog?” Liam frowned deeply. He knew Damon. Because Chloe had, on countless occasions, tearfully begged their youngest uncle to protect her so she could escape Damon. Yet, after other people went through hell to help her, she would turn right around and get back together with him. Faced with Liam’s questioning, Chloe guiltily looked away. She didn’t want to, but in her eyes, Damon was the only person in the world who truly loved her. It was just that his methods were a bit extreme… Looking at her face, I could guess exactly what kind of delusional garbage she was thinking. “You don’t even find him repulsive,” Liam clicked his tongue in disgust, having zero intention of getting involved. “Liam…” Chloe couldn’t believe the younger brother who used to be so close to her could turn on her so quickly. 7. Crack. Everyone’s attention was drawn back to the sharp sound. I touched my nose awkwardly. “Sorry, misjudged my strength.” Damon’s wrist was bent at a horrifying angle. Chloe was paralyzed with fear. I kindly offered some advice: “If you go to the ER now, they can still save it. But if you insist on staying here to throw around threats, I can’t guarantee his other hand will be okay.” Trespassing in a private residence? I call this justifiable self-defense. Damon and Chloe fled the house looking incredibly pathetic. After they left, the Sterling family held a massive internal meeting. Aside from my youngest uncle who was still overseas on a business trip, everyone attended. My identity was officially confirmed. What surprised me the most was that they didn’t act like a stereotypical soap-opera rich family, treating the “wrong daughter” scandal as a humiliation to be swept under the rug. Instead, they threw a massive, glamorous banquet to introduce me to everyone. They proudly announced that I was the real Luna, the sole heiress of the Sterling family. The elite circles accepted it far easier than I imagined. Then again, the guests were all families closely allied with the Sterlings. They wouldn’t dare cause drama. At the banquet, I finally met the man I had heard so much about—my youngest uncle, Arthur Sterling. Dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, an elegant smile playing on his lips, he stood out effortlessly in the crowd. Suddenly, someone whispered something in his ear. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, then his gaze shot straight across the room, locking onto me. 8. The moment our eyes met, an unspoken, dark energy passed between us. Intrigued, I smirked and downed the rest of my red wine. I have no idea how Chloe snuck into the banquet. Was it her protagonist halo at work? The moment Grandpa took the stage to officially announce my identity, she was hiding in a corner, her eyes red with tears. I noticed a lingering gaze and casually scanned the room, spotting her instantly. In the original plot, when she returned to the Sterling family as me, there was never a grand, public introduction like this. Maybe it was blood intuition, but Grandpa always had doubts about her identity. But a secret paternity test proved she was a Sterling. Of course, that was all secretly manipulated by Damon. Because of that, when the Sterling family eventually fell, Grandpa was the first loose end Damon eliminated. “Is Ms. Davis here to spectate today?” Since she was here, there was no need to let her hide in the shadows. My voice drew everyone’s attention. The crowd instinctively parted, exposing Chloe. “How does she have the nerve to show up?” “Is the Sterling family just letting her off the hook?” “I heard she’s still hooking up with that psycho, Damon Vance.” “Did she come to crash the party?” The younger guests whispered loudly. Chloe was fully exposed to the public eye. She lacked the radiant, confident aura she had when she was the “Sterling heiress.” Dressed in a flimsy white gown, she looked frail and delicate. Standing there quietly, she looked like a wilting white lily. Hearing my words, she bit her lip in humiliation, her eyes red, looking incredibly pitiful. But no one in this room was crazy enough to be Damon Vance. No one was going to step up and play white knight just because she squeezed out a few tears.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “405511”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Even after marrying my childhood friend, we remained strangers. Except for our routine nightly obligations, we rarely saw each other. He had an incredibly cold personality. Even when I asked for a divorce, he only spaced out for a second before pushing himself up from my body. “Alright. Got it.” I said, “I don’t want custody of the kid either. He’s going to be your problem from now on.” “It’s fine.” I insisted, “You’ve worked hard these past few years. Thank you.” I had very little luggage. A single suitcase held everything I owned. Before leaving, I turned back to close the door. Carter, shirtless and covered in the scratch marks I’d just left on his back, stood silently on the balcony smoking a cigarette. 01 My sister Chloe Miller’s return to the States was trending everywhere on Twitter. After all, she was a dance prodigy who found fame young. In the interview video, she wore a red dress, looking as vibrant and fiercely dazzling as ever. But my attention was drawn to the final photo attached to the article. Through a half-lowered car window, Chloe’s head perfectly blocked the side profile of the man waiting inside. Though you couldn’t see his full face, the superior curve of the man’s brow, nose, and jawline was unmistakable. Not to mention, the angle of their bodies made it look exactly like they were kissing. Chloe’s fans were going crazy, digging everywhere to find out who owned the car. I recognized the owner at first glance. It was my husband, Carter Hayes. After all, a globally limited-edition Rolls-Royce Phantom was hard to mistake. It looked like Carter wouldn’t be coming home tonight. So, I comfortably took over our massive king-sized bed. Late in the night, a pair of ice-cold arms woke me up. “Are you awake?” The newcomer was very polite. “Sorry to bother you.” My mind was still a bit foggy. It took me a moment to gather the strength to sit up. He had already wrapped his arms around my body, making room for himself on his half of the bed. “Sorry,” I said. “I thought you weren’t coming home tonight.” The lamp clicked on. Carter turned his back to me and took off his bathrobe. The warm light painted his broad back and neck with a pale golden hue, like an oil painting, full of raw power and aesthetics. A minute later, that neck leaned in close to me. “Can we kiss?” He asked politely enough. But in reality, he didn’t wait for my consent at all. As our lips and teeth tangled, I could clearly feel the sweat slowly seeping through his skin beneath my palms. Carter propped himself up, extended his long arm, and opened the nightstand drawer on his side. Then, he frowned. “Why are we out?” “Sorry… I forgot to buy more,” I said slowly. Carter looked down at me for a moment, then lay back down beside me. He spoke in what sounded like a very considerate tone: “It’s fine. I’ll pick up a box on my way home from work tomorrow.” A box… If I had known, I would have hidden them. I braced myself and replied, “Thanks for the trouble.” “Don’t mention it.” 02 When I woke up the next day, the other half of the bed was already empty. I casually scrolled through my phone, and before I knew it, it was noon. The man I shared a bed with last night was in the news again. Carter Hayes, CEO of Hayes Corporation, was invited to watch Chloe Miller’s first stage performance since her return to the country. This time, the internet sleuths not only figured out that Carter was the owner of the car from last night, but they also used magnifying glasses to analyze the photos and concluded that the two definitely spent the night together. Because even though Carter was wearing a high-necked black shirt, it didn’t hide the hickey on his neck. And Chloe’s lip, coincidentally, was slightly bruised. You didn’t need much imagination to guess how intense they were last night. The hype was so massive that an insider soon leaked the backstory: Years ago, to ask for Chloe’s hand in marriage, Carter had threatened to voluntarily give up his inheritance rights to the Hayes empire. But at the critical moment, Chloe turned him down. She didn’t want to become a wealthy socialite wife and end her dancing career. Reuniting years later, the teenage lovers who missed their chance had both reached the absolute pinnacle of their respective fields. Every look, every gesture between them seemed to steep in their lingering past love. … The comments section was flooded, basically all praising how perfect they were for each other. Only one anonymous burner account posted a few consecutive comments: [Fake news. He has a wife.] Very quickly, that account was chased down and flamed by a mob: [So what if he has a wife? No one can replace the first love of his youth!] [Then he’ll just get a divorce and pursue Chloe again. Duh.] I was just about to hit ‘like’ on their comments when the trending page was flooded with a new picture. It was backstage after the dance performance. Carter was handing Chloe a bouquet. Chloe held the flowers, smiling like a little girl. And Carter, who never showed emotion to anyone, was looking at her, seemingly infected by her joy, with a smile on his own face. Though faint, it held a very rare kind of tenderness. My heart suddenly skipped a beat. A complex knot of emotions surged in my chest. We had known each other for decades. We had been married for five years. I had never seen Carter smile at me like that. And he had never, ever given me flowers. 03 If Chloe was Carter’s lingering regret from his youth, then I was the obligation forced upon him by the Hayes family. Chloe, Carter, and I all grew up in the same wealthy neighborhood and attended the same prep school. But they took calligraphy classes together under the same tutor since childhood; their bond was much closer. I only got Carter’s personal cell phone number half a month after our wedding. Right after we got married, Carter worked overtime and didn’t come back to the bridal estate for half a month. When my mother-in-law found out, she visited specifically to lecture me about not taking the initiative to care for my husband’s health. I sent him my first text message: [Sorry to bother you. Are you coming home for dinner tonight?] Half an hour later, he replied: [Who is this?] [Maya.] [Thank you. No need to wait for me.] It wasn’t until three months later that Carter sent me his first initiated text. [Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow.] Me: [Is there an occasion?] [We need to go back to the main estate.] [Okay. Do I need to bring anything?] A moment later, my phone chimed with the pleasant sound of a deposit: [Chase Bank: Your account ending in 730 has received a wire transfer of $100,000.00. Available balance: $100,123.00.] Carter replied: [You decide. Just buy whatever.] From that moment on, I knew Carter would never love me. He treated me like an employee of his company. He dismissed me with money. But I was very open-minded about it. An arranged marriage was exactly like this. It didn’t matter if he came home or not. I could just spend his money like crazy by myself. Our relationship only improved slightly after we spent a night at the Hayes estate. To fool the elders, he was forced to sleep in the same bed with me. I thought he wouldn’t touch me. But my mother-in-law had spiked the soup she served that night with a lot of “herbal supplements.” Carter spoke first: “I’m sorry.” Then he asked: “Can we?” And finally: “If you’re uncomfortable, tell me to stop.” I endured it for a long time before I finally let out a sound. “…I’m sorry, I think this is a bit too much for me.” “I’m sorry.” He apologized quickly. “It’s okay,” was all I could say. … A long time later, I couldn’t help but ask, “Why haven’t you stopped yet?” Carter finally lifted his head and looked at me. Under the dim yellow light, he seemed hesitant, but he still leaned down and kissed me. It was much later when I found out why he lost control that night. Chloe had started dating a guy abroad. That night was the day she went public with the relationship. 04 After finding out I was pregnant, I sent Carter a message. It was a photo of the obstetric ultrasound report. He was busy for a long time before replying: [Congratulations.] Five hours later, he finally realized something else was required. [Chase Bank: Your account ending in 730 has received a wire transfer of $5,000,000.00. Available balance: $6,000,123.00.] [Thanks for your hard work.] Six months later, our child, Leo Hayes, was born. Carter was very good to Leo. He set up a massive trust fund that covered his education, medical, and living expenses for a lifetime. The days passed slowly. Many people knew Carter Hayes was married, but they had no idea what his wife looked like. Except for our routine nightly obligations, we rarely saw each other. Except for discussing Leo, we never made small talk. In these five years, we never had a single fight over anything. You could even say we respected each other like polite guests. We were simply still strangers. At 3 PM, I picked up Leo from his private kindergarten. Pushing open the door, Chloe was lounging on our living room sofa, holding my little dog and waving at me. “You’re back?” Leo, who always kept a straight, serious face, let out a scream of joy: “Auntie Chloe!” He was Chloe’s biggest fan. Ever since he saw a video of her dancing, he had been obsessed. Chloe ruffled his hair and looked up at me with a beaming smile. “Maya, your son seems to like me more.” Leo, usually an old soul in a kid’s body, looked at her with sparkling eyes. “Auntie Chloe, you should live at our house from now on. Don’t leave, okay?” I carried the groceries I bought on the way home into the kitchen. From far away, I could hear Chloe’s giggles. “If I live at your house, where is your mommy going to live?” “She can leave,” Leo said. “She’s useless around here anyway.” … The water from the faucet rushed down into the sink. The kitchen door was suddenly pushed open. Carter stood in the doorway, looking a bit tired. “Can I come in?” “You can. What is it?” He pointed at the pot on the stove. “The soup smells really good. Can I have some?” “Sure.” I nodded. I had originally simmered it for him anyway. I ladled a bowl and handed it to him. Carter took it. “Thanks for your hard work. Thank you.” Walking out of the kitchen, I saw Chloe suddenly flash a smile at me. She said, “Maya, your soup is as delicious as always.” I froze, realizing the bowl I had just handed him was now in Chloe’s hands. She sighed comfortably as she sipped it. “I’m so jealous you know how to cook. Unlike me, I’ve never even stepped foot in a kitchen.” Leo chimed in, “Auntie Chloe, you’re so amazing at dancing. It doesn’t matter if you can’t cook. My mommy can just cook for you.” Since birth, Leo had been spoiled rotten by the Hayes family. I was the only person who was strict with him, refusing to let him act entitled or use his family’s wealth to bully other kids. As a result, Leo had always disliked me. He was like his father; he only valued the things, or people, he actually liked. Chloe wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t just my husband. My son, and even my dog, liked her better. The thought of divorce was finalized in that exact moment. 05 I asked Carter for a divorce on a night one week later. We had just finished. He suddenly said he had a work emergency and needed to leave. I interrupted him and said I had something to say too. As expected, he had no reaction after I said it. He just spaced out for a second, pushed himself off me, his face devoid of emotion. “Alright. Got it.” Like he was receiving a memo from his secretary. I said, “I don’t want custody of the kid either. He’s going to be your problem from now on.” “It’s fine.” I insisted, “You’ve worked hard these past few years. Thank you.” Even though there were no feelings, he did sleep with me for all these years. It was hard work for him, too. I had very little luggage. A single suitcase held everything I owned. The divorce papers were left on the living room coffee table. I had already signed them. Before leaving, I turned back to close the door. Carter, shirtless and covered in scratch marks, stood silently on the balcony smoking a cigarette. I didn’t tell anyone about the divorce. Leo was asleep in his room. Further away at the Miller estate, my parents were celebrating Chloe’s birthday. When Carter finished his cigarette, he would probably go find Chloe, too. Bringing along the gift he had prepared in his study— A custom-made red dance dress. The first time I saw it, I loved it too. But just like this marriage, it wasn’t something that belonged to me. No one remembered that when I was young, I had also won the National Youth Dance Championship trophy. My instructors used to say my physical gifts were one in a thousand. But after accidentally falling from a high stage, I could never dance again. After that, I locked myself in my room and cried every day. It was the most agonizing memory of my life. My parents grieved for a brief period, then turned around and sent Chloe to the exact same instructor. “If the older sister had talent, the younger sister’s might be even higher.” From that moment on, I couldn’t bear to look at anything related to dance. Tonight, like countless nights before it, was a very ordinary night. The wind was light. The moon was bright. From the moment I decided to leave, right up until I boarded the plane, I never looked back. Once I was on the flight, a beautiful flight attendant brought over a small slice of cake. “Dear Miss, thank you for choosing our airline. Our entire flight crew wishes you a very happy birthday.” I paused for a second. Then I smiled at her. “Thank you so much.” 06 The destination I chose was my grandmother’s house in the countryside. After getting off the plane, I had to catch a regional train, and then a dedicated tourist bus. In recent years, the mountain town where my grandmother lived had been developed into a tourist heritage site by the state. After enduring five or six hours of travel, the bus wound its way up the mountain roads of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Looking out the old glass windows, the white clouds seemed to grow right out of the earth. The wind rushed in, carrying a wave of summer heat. I took a few pictures and happily posted them on Instagram. A sudden phone ring broke my relaxed mood. It was Carter. “What is it?” “Leo has a fever. Do you know where the medical kit is?” “Second-floor storage room.” “Okay.” After a moment of silence, Carter added, “Found it. Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” I was just about to hang up when Carter continued, “Say hello to Grandma for me. Come back when you’ve had enough fun. Leo keeps asking for you.” I gripped the phone. “Then you need to tell him we’re already divorced.” Click. It sounded like Carter had lit a lighter. His tone was unnervingly calm. “Is this because of Noah Brooks?” “Noah Brooks?” It took me a long time to pull that name from the depths of my memory. I was baffled. “What does he have to do with this?” “He returned to the States,” Carter said. “Your IPs are currently in the exact same location.” “Carter,” I rubbed my temples. “You don’t seem very clear-headed right now. I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t want to know.” “From now on, if you can’t find something, ask the housekeeper. If the kid is sick, take him to a doctor.” “I want our relationship from here on out to be completely undisturbed by one another.” Carter was silent for a moment. “Fine. As you wish.” 07 When I reached Grandma’s doorstep, I was thrilled. The once-rustic mountain town had become modernized, but it still retained its indigenous folk charm. The familiar front yard, the grape trellis, the creek… But— There was an unfamiliar person standing at the door. He was very young, wearing a black T-shirt and a silver bone chain. He seemed to have just washed his hair, carrying a cool, damp aura. I wheeled my suitcase up, looking at him hesitantly. He stared back at me. As we got closer, we both exclaimed in sudden realization: “Noah Brooks?” “Maya?” I couldn’t believe the coincidence. Returning to my hometown, I actually bumped into a former teammate from my competition days. During the years I gave up dancing due to my injury, Noah had kept going. After graduating from an arts conservatory, he, like Chloe, went abroad for further training. I had seen his promotional posters many times. The fact that Carter knew his itinerary so well was also because of Chloe. They were in the same dance company. Noah explained that since returning to the US, he had wanted to choreograph a unique piece inspired by Appalachian folk mythology. Since my grandmother’s village was famous for its heritage culture, he had come specifically to sketch out ideas and find inspiration. After a brief catch-up, Noah suddenly asked me tentatively, “Maya, after… back then, did you ever try to dance again?” I fell silent. Noah pressed on, “When I was in Europe, I met a doctor involved in sports medicine. His clinic specializes in this exact kind of rehabilitation. Maya… if you still want to dance, do you want to give it a try?” “The success rate might not be 100%,” he continued. “And the treatment costs can be quite high. But if you need it, I can… lend you the money.” Looking nervous, as if afraid he had said the wrong thing, he watched me carefully. “Of course, if you don’t want to, just pretend I never brought it up.” In the first few years after the accident, I never gave up on rehab. But those treatments ultimately yielded no results. Facing exorbitant rehab fees, I was filled with hope time and time again, only to face despair. Combined with my family’s subsequent business failures, we couldn’t afford the extra money, and I slowly gave up. Marrying Carter, hiding in a loveless marriage to drift through the years, I had long lost my former spirit. I wanted to reject Noah, but when the words reached my lips, they changed into: “I want to.” “Even if it’s only a 10% chance, I want to try.” After I said it, I stood frozen in place. My arms hung by my sides, trembling uncontrollably. My body… was still unwilling to give up. Plans changed immediately. After staying in the village to have dinner with Grandma, I contacted the professor Noah mentioned. Professor Ross asked me a lot of questions, mentioned he had successfully treated similar cases before, told me not to worry, and had his assistant book an appointment for next month. Hanging up the phone, I felt like I was dreaming. Noah seemed even more excited than I was. “This is amazing, Maya!” “Thank you.” My heart started racing, my entire body engulfed in a surreal feeling. He just shook his head. “Honestly, I’m doing this for myself too. Maya, if the treatment goes well, I want to ask you for a favor.” “Okay.” I didn’t even ask what the favor was. I just agreed instantly.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “405512”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

We got together when I was 18. At 22, I followed him all the way to New York City. But in the end, all I got for my devotion was a casual, “I never planned to marry her, don’t make a big deal out of it.” Eight years of love led to absolutely nothing, so I chose to walk away. I was gone for three years. The day I returned to the city, his friends asked me: “It’s been three years. You guys must have made up by now, right?” They all thought I came back to beg for a reconciliation. Little did they know, I came back to get married to someone else. 01 “You’re getting married?” I was organizing the guest list and replied, “Yeah. The wedding is next week.” My friend paused on the other end of the line before asking, “Then… what about Ethan?” Hearing Ethan’s name after three long years gave me a momentary sense of whiplash. But Ethan and I had ended three years ago. I was the one who initiated the breakup. It was his birthday. I had come back from a business trip a day early, planning to give him a surprise, but I accidentally overheard him talking to his friends. A friend asked him, “You’re 26, man. When are you planning to propose to Chloe?” Ethan’s posture was lazy, a half-smile playing on his lips. “I never planned to marry her. Don’t make a big deal out of nothing.” His friend was stunned. “You guys have been together for years. If you don’t marry her, who are you going to marry?” Ethan scoffed. “You said it yourself. We’ve been together for years. Do you really think there’s any spark left?” To be honest, in that split second, I couldn’t believe my own ears. We had just been on the phone half an hour prior. On that call, his voice had been incredibly soft, playfully begging me to hurry back so we could celebrate his birthday together. It had only been thirty minutes, yet I could no longer associate that man with the gentle, considerate boyfriend I thought I knew. The thought of breaking up materialized in that exact moment. That night, I didn’t push open the door to confront him. Instead, I calmly turned around, went back to our apartment, and packed my bags. Ethan came home at 2 AM. The moment he walked through the door, he bumped right into me holding my suitcase. He froze for barely a second before quickly stepping forward, pulling me into his arms, and affectionately nuzzling the crook of my neck. “Is this a surprise? I love it.” I pushed him away. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “Let’s break up.” It wasn’t that we had never threatened to break up before, but every single time, I was the one who lowered my head and begged for peace. Our mutual friends always said, “Ethan is insecure. He needs someone who loves him enough to never leave. If you really want to be with him long-term, you need to be more accommodating.” Back then, I really, truly loved him. So I was willing to coax him, putting his emotions above everything else. From 18 to 26, I loved him fiercely and without reservation. But in the end, all it earned me was: “I’m never going to marry her.” 02 “What are you talking about? Are you breaking up with me just because I didn’t spend my birthday with you?” Ethan’s voice pulled me back to reality. He looped his arms around me again. “Alright, I’m not mad. We’re not breaking up.” Actually, his friends weren’t entirely right. Ethan wasn’t an awkward lover. On the contrary, when he wanted to be, he was incredibly good at coaxing people. On the surface, every time we “broke up,” he was the one who initiated it, and I was the one who patched things up. But no one knew that in the dead of night, behind closed doors, he was the one who would use every trick in the book—soft words and hard demands—to win me back. He knew exactly how to poke at the softest parts of my heart. He made me willingly forgive him. Just like now. He was playing his old tricks again. Just as he leaned in to kiss me, I shoved him away hard. Caught off guard, he stumbled back a few steps. Barely steadying himself, he heard me say, “I’m serious. I’m not joking with you.” In an instant, his tone turned icy, his eyes dark and terrifying. “Say that again?” It wasn’t surprising he was angry. After eight years together, this was the very first time I had initiated a breakup. Everyone thought it was impossible for me to leave him. Even Ethan believed that. But this time, I was truly exhausted. My gaze lingered on his handsome profile for a few seconds before I pulled away without hesitation, grabbing my suitcase and walking toward the door. I hadn’t taken more than a few steps when the suitcase suddenly wouldn’t budge. Ethan gripped the handle of my luggage, staring daggers at me. “Why?” He had beautiful eyes. When those deep, reserved eyes looked at you, it always gave you the illusion of being stared at with profound love. I avoided his gaze. “If we don’t break up, will you marry me?” Over these eight years, he was rational, ambitious, and had long since planned out his perfect future. He just never included me in it. The silence in the room was terrifying. I don’t know how long that dead silence lasted before he finally asked: “Do we have to get married? Can’t we just date forever?” I met his gaze head-on. The man’s dark eyes instantly grew even more unfathomable. It was the same look that had made me fall for him the very first time we met. But no matter how hard it was to let go of eight years of history, continuing a dead-end relationship was pointless. I looked into those bottomless eyes and let out a small, bitter laugh. “Dating for too long gets boring.” The veins on his hand gripping the suitcase handle popped. He practically ground the words out through his teeth: “You’re bored?” “Yes.” Ethan said “Okay” three times in a row. By the third time, his eyes were bloodshot. I didn’t dare look at him anymore, terrified I’d look even more pathetic than he did. I turned around, yanked my suitcase free, and kept walking. In the quiet night, the only sound was the heavy rolling of my suitcase wheels against the hardwood floor. As I reached the entryway, a freezing voice came from behind me: “If you walk out that door today, don’t you ever come back!” I paused, my throat suddenly dry. After a long moment, I left him with a single word—”Okay”—and walked out without looking back. 03 After that day, we saw each other one last time. It was the night before I left New York. I realized I had left a crucial document in his study. I texted him to let him know before I went over. The living room was empty, so I headed straight for the study. Passing by the master bedroom, I heard voices. I instinctively looked inside and saw Ethan lying on the bed, while a woman carefully wiped his face with a warm cloth. I recognized her. Olivia Bennett. The daughter of his father’s close friend. She was also the fiancée his family had arranged for him. Noticing me, Olivia blushed and quickly explained: “Chloe, please don’t misunderstand. Ethan had too much to drink. We… nothing happened between us.” I nodded, having no desire to chat, and went to the study. When I came back out, the bedroom door had been shut. Even so, I could clearly hear Ethan call out, “Wifey~” His voice was affectionate, gentle, and intimate. Even though we had already broken up, in that moment, an uncontrollable sourness still spread through my chest. I didn’t dare listen anymore and quickened my pace to leave. As I reached the entryway, Ethan called out to me. “Don’t come over anymore after this. Olivia will mind.” He leaned against the bedroom doorframe, looking lethargic. His shirt was unbuttoned down to the third button, revealing a lipstick mark right on his collarbone. My eyes lingered on his collar for a few seconds before I nodded. “Okay.” The moment I stepped out the door, the sound of a shattering vase echoed from behind me. Followed by Olivia’s gasp: “You’re bleeding!” I didn’t turn back. I walked away as fast as I could. That was the last time we saw each other. Over the next three years, we never contacted each other once. So, to this day, he still didn’t know I was getting married. 04 When the news of my wedding got out, the first person to call me was Mason Cole. He was a mutual friend of mine and Ethan’s. “Chloe, I heard you’re getting married?” I didn’t hide it. “The wedding is next week. I won’t be sending you guys invitations.” My fiancé had already sent out invitations to his own circle; it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to send separate ones to my old crowd. As soon as the words left my mouth, I heard the mocking laughter of other people in the background. “See, I told you! If she was really getting married, why wouldn’t she invite you? It’s obviously just an excuse to come back to the city.” “She’s out of options, right? Ethan is getting officially engaged at the end of the month. She has to make one last desperate play.” “Exactly! After eight years together, how could she just stand by and watch Ethan marry someone else?” I froze, quickly realizing that all of Ethan’s friends were gathered together. They were waiting to see how I would beg Ethan to take me back. This was their usual MO. In the past, whenever Ethan and I fought, they would place bets on how many days it would take me to cave and beg for forgiveness. They were absolutely certain I couldn’t bear to let Ethan go. Setting aside how wealthy his family was, just based on those eight years of emotional investment, no one believed I could just drop it all and walk away. They clearly thought this time was no different. Just as the thought crossed my mind, someone yelled into the phone: “E! If she begs to get back together, are you gonna take your ex back?” After a long pause, Ethan’s voice finally drifted over the line, cool and slow: “I’m getting engaged. Why are you even bringing this up?” Someone laughed and joked: “You think Ethan is an idiot? Giving up the Bennett family heiress to marry a girl with zero background… If it were you, would you?” Amidst their roaring laughter, an old memory surfaced in my mind. When I first moved to the city, Ethan’s friends treated me with respect. I thought they had accepted me. That was until Mason’s birthday party, when Olivia lost a priceless diamond necklace. Her friends surrounded me, demanding I hand it over. By the time Ethan arrived, I had been shoved around and looked like a total mess. Olivia looked at Ethan and said: “Ethan, please don’t be mad. They just really wanted to help me find it, so they resorted to extreme measures…” “Once we find it, I’ll apologize to Chloe, okay?” Ethan smiled, walked up to me, and affectionately patted the top of my head. “Alright. It’s not a big deal.” I gripped the hem of his shirt. In the moment he appeared, all my grievances and feelings of being wronged rushed up at once. Just as I was about to defend myself, I heard him say: “If you wanted it, you should have just told me. Why do something like this?” In that split second, my brain completely short-circuited. I looked at the man in front of me in utter disbelief. “You don’t believe me?” Ethan looked at me and didn’t say a single word, but his mocking gaze said it all. I couldn’t stop shaking. My hands and feet went ice cold. After being together for so long, I thought he knew exactly what kind of person I was. I never expected that, in a situation like that, without even asking me a single question, he would immediately stand on the opposing side. In that moment, everyone was looking at me. With contempt. With mockery. With indifference. Not a single person trusted me. For some reason, it made me think of what my grandfather had told me before I moved: “Kid, I won’t stop you from doing what you want to do. But you have to remember, social classes aren’t that easy to cross.” “Even if he holds you in his heart, will his family and his friends ever truly accept you?” I had patted my chest and promised my grandpa, “Don’t worry, Grandpa! Ethan won’t let us down.” I was young and arrogant. I didn’t understand what ‘unsurpassable social classes’ meant. It was only when I was pushed into the storm, isolated and helpless, that I profoundly realized there was an invisible, insurmountable chasm between Ethan and me. 05 The laughter on the other end of the phone continued for a long time. I don’t know who shouted: “Mason, ask her where she’s holding the wedding. We used to be friends, the least we can do is drop by and give her a wedding gift.” After a moment, Mason’s voice came through: “Chloe, which church are you having the wedding at?” “The Grand Cathedral in Manhattan.” As soon as the words left my mouth, someone immediately chimed in: “Listen to her! I told you she’s delusional. The Vance family heir’s wedding is next week, and it’s also at the Grand Cathedral. Let me guess, her husband is Liam Vance?” The crowd laughed even harder. Even Mason couldn’t help but gently warn me: “You remember Liam Vance, right? He’s getting married next week too…” “Mason,” I cut him off. “That day is my wedding with Liam.” The other end of the line went dead silent. I don’t know how much time passed before an explosive roar of laughter erupted. “She must have lost her damn mind! Now she’s dragging Liam Vance into her delusions.” “She really will say anything to make Ethan jealous.” “Ethan, just take pity on her and go see her. After all, she went crazy because you broke up with her…” I didn’t listen to the rest. I hung up. A text message from an unknown number immediately popped up: [Add me back.] The familiar tone, the familiar phrasing—I instantly knew it was Ethan. Expressionless, I deleted the text, turned off my phone, and went to sleep. When I woke up and turned my phone back on the next morning, I received a video from Mason. It was a recording of what happened after I hung up last night. Ethan was sitting on a single sofa, lighting a cigarette, the glowing red ash illuminating his callous features. He let out a low, raspy laugh. “Plenty of people have broken up with me. Do I have to go see every single one of them?” “Hell yeah, E! But if you don’t go see Chloe, are we just gonna let her walk away empty-handed?” Someone else retorted: “It’s her own fault for wanting a breakup! Now she regrets it and wants to get back together—three years later! She’s too spoiled!” “Exactly. Look at her making up ridiculous lies about marrying Liam Vance. Ethan was way too good to her.” Ethan didn’t speak. He just looked down, playing with his phone, lost in thought. Then, Mason spoke up: “Chloe isn’t a liar. Maybe she’s telling the truth.” “Come on, Mason. Are you defending her because she gave you something on the side? Or do you have a thing for her?” Mason glared deeply at the guy. “Have you all forgotten about the time she was framed for stealing that necklace? It was because of your prejudice that she had to suffer all those dirty looks for nothing.” There was a brief silence in the private room. Suddenly, someone said: “It’s easy to prove if Chloe is lying. You guys all got the Vance family invitation, right?” “I’ll call home and have someone take a picture of the invite and send it to me.” About a minute later, the guy laughed. “I knew it. Why would Liam Vance marry Chloe Miller? The bride’s last name is Miller, but her first name is Harper.” “Ethan, you can relax. She definitely came back to beg for a reconciliation.” … The video ended there. They were right. Liam’s bride was named Harper. But what they didn’t know was that Harper was me. Three years ago, my grandfather consulted an astrologer who said I had been carrying a lot of bad energy in recent years, and legally changing my first name would ward off the bad luck. So, my grandfather gave me a new name. Harper. 06 I knew that coming back to the city meant I would inevitably run into Ethan. But I never expected to run into him this fast. On the day of my wedding dress fitting, Liam had a last-minute emergency at work and said he’d be late. When I arrived at the bridal boutique, Ethan was sitting in the VIP area. Our eyes met. I gave a polite nod of acknowledgment and followed the attendant into the dressing room. While I was waiting for the makeup artist, Ethan walked in and locked the door behind him. By the time I registered what was happening, he was already standing right behind me. The vanity mirror reflected his handsome face. “Why did you block me?” His tone was casual, as if we had never been apart. Actually, he was the one who deleted and blocked me first. Three years ago, on the day I left the city, he removed me from his contacts and blocked my number. How did I know? I didn’t, initially. Mason accidentally let it slip. Three years ago, Mason passed a message for Ethan, asking me for a specific photo of him. I told Mason I’d just send it directly to Ethan. But Mason said, “You won’t be able to. Just send it to me.” I was stunned. No one knew this, but Ethan and I had an unspoken rule— Even if we fought and broke up, we were never allowed to delete or block each other. That was the first time. And Ethan was the one who broke the rule. That day, after sending the photo to Mason, I opened my camera roll and deleted every single photo and file related to Ethan. At the same time, I deleted and blocked him on every single platform. And now, the instigator was here questioning me. I cautiously backed away, putting distance between us. “Ethan, we’re broken up. Besides, we’re both getting married soon. There’s no reason for us to contact each other anymore.” He slowly curved his lips into a meaningful smirk. “There’s no one else here. You don’t have to pretend.” I frowned. “Pretend what?” “Saying you’re getting married—isn’t it just to provoke me? To make me come back to you?” To be honest, I never expected that even after three years, Ethan would still be so absolutely certain I would go back to him. And I finally understood. During those eight years, I had tolerated his toxic behavior time and time again, which gave him this unshakable, arrogant confidence. “Ethan,” I said. “Whatever you want to think, I came back this time to hold my wedding. Once the wedding is over, I’m leaving.” “If I did anything that gave you the illusion I want to get back together, I apologize.” Ethan didn’t say a word. He silently scrutinized me. After a long time, he suddenly spoke: “Is it because I’m in an arranged marriage?” “It has nothing to do with that, Ethan. I’m marrying someone else—” He cut me off. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re still mad.” He completely ignored the second half of my sentence and softened his tone. “It’s been three years. You’re really still holding a grudge?” Saying that, he raised his hand, wanting to pat my head like he used to. I dodged his hand, my brow furrowing deeply. “Do you not understand English? I said I came back this time to marry Liam Vance. It has nothing to do with you.” His hand just froze in mid-air. His eyes went cold, inch by inch, and his voice turned incredibly dark: “Chloe, if you wanted to find someone to piss me off, why did you have to pick Liam? You can’t even touch the threshold of the Vance family.” Just like before, Ethan still didn’t believe me. Those prejudices were etched into his very bones. He was convinced I couldn’t even get close to Liam, let alone marry into his family. For some reason, I suddenly laughed. “In your heart, am I really that pathetic?” His brow knitted tightly. “What are you talking about?” He paused, then let out a sigh. “Alright. If you want to come back to me, then come back.” “Come back where? To your marital home? What identity do you expect me to have when I go back?” His face darkened slightly. “Chloe, I’m already making concessions. What more do you want?” “I don’t need them.” Not wanting to waste any more time in this pointless argument, I tried to step around him and leave. As soon as I turned, he grabbed my wrist. Ethan’s voice was low: “If you really want to get married that badly, I can marry you.” I looked back at him, a mocking smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Marry me? Didn’t you say you never planned to marry me from the very start?” His face went stark white. “You… who told you that?” “You said it yourself.” I looked at him deeply. “That day, I was standing right outside the door.” Ethan’s eyes went from confused, to shocked, to a sudden, crushing realization. “So the reason you broke up with me… was because you heard that?” “Yes!” If I hadn’t acted on a whim to go back and celebrate his birthday that day, I might still be completely in the dark. I might still be desperately holding onto a relationship that was never going to lead anywhere. The atmosphere in the cramped dressing room instantly shifted. The man’s thin lips pressed into a cold, hard line. “Why didn’t you come in and ask me?” his voice was hoarse. “If I asked, wouldn’t the answer have been the same?” He wanted to say something else, but a knock on the door interrupted him. It was the boutique attendant. “Ms. Miller, do you need any help?” “No, I’m coming out.” Catching Ethan off guard, I ripped my hand away and walked out briskly. But when I saw who was outside the door, my footsteps faltered.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “405513”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Before summer break, I flew to Caleb’s university to surprise him. Instead, I found his sophomore lab mate clinging to him, asking who was prettier—her or me. Caleb gave a careless, distracted laugh: “Maya, of course. She’s way prettier than you.” The girl’s face immediately fell. I pushed the door open, just in time to see Caleb resting his hand affectionately on top of her head. “Are you going to cry over that? Maya isn’t just pretty, she’s fiercely independent,” he smiled. “Not like you. Without me, you’re just a helpless little mess.” 01 The girl’s whiny voice drifted from the lab: “You’re always bullying me! I’m not a helpless mess!” Caleb chuckled softly. But as he looked up, he froze, seeing me standing in the doorway. “Maya?” His hand was still resting on her hair as he called my name. He quickly walked over to me. “What are you doing here? Are your finals over?” “So I shouldn’t have come?” I asked. He laughed. “What are you talking about?” He waved toward the room. “I’m heading out, Harper. You finish the rest of the project yourself. My girl is here.” No sound came from inside. Caleb wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me out into the hall. “Who was that?” “Harper Hayes. Just a sophomore in my department.” I stopped in my tracks. I knew that name. For the past year, that name had been coming up a lot. Even though I had never met her. “Do you like her?” He looked completely baffled and laughed. “What? How is that possible? She’s just a kid.” He looked at me, amused. “You’re getting jealous over this? My Maya is such a jealousy jar.” “Caleb…” “The guys and I planned a get-together tonight. It’ll be a welcome party for you,” he interrupted, looking down to text his friends before looking back up. “Let me look at you. Did you lose weight? Are you secretly dieting again? I told you, one hundred and twenty pounds is perfect. Are you trying to turn into a walking stick so I can use you as a cane?” I took a deep breath. “Right now, I’d like to take a cane and beat you to death with it.” He laughed, pulling me in for a kiss. Just then, a delicate voice called out from behind us: “Caleb.” 02 Caleb and I turned our heads at the same time. Harper was holding a jacket in her hands. “You left your windbreaker at my place again,” she pouted. “You’re always so forgetful.” “Oh,” Caleb took it. “And who is this?” She turned to me, blinking innocently as she looked me up and down. “You see your senior’s girlfriend and you don’t even say hi?” Caleb chuckled, lightly tapping her head with a rolled-up notebook. “Ouch! Why do you keep hitting me?! You’re so violent! I thought she was one of the older girls from our campus. Isn’t this lab building restricted to authorized students only? Did you secretly copy a key for her, Caleb? I’m telling Professor Miller!” Caleb finally realized the situation and asked me, “Wait, how did you get into the building?” “I tailgated some guy,” I said flatly. I looked at him. “Half an hour ago, I texted asking where you were. You didn’t reply, and you didn’t answer my calls.” Caleb frowned. “Huh?” “I’m so sorry,” Harper smiled apologetically. “Caleb and I were right in the middle of a critical derivation for our project, so he probably didn’t see it. Please don’t be mad at him over this. The pressure Professor Miller has been putting on us lately is just too much…” “That’s weird,” Caleb pulled out his phone. “Hey? Why is it on Do Not Disturb?” He muttered while adjusting the settings: “Must have bumped it in my pocket.” “Whatever. Let’s go.” I turned around. But the moment I turned, I heard Harper’s tiny voice from behind. “She looks so plain… it’s obviously all makeup…” 03 I stopped walking and turned back. Caleb looked confused. “What’s wrong?” I looked directly at Harper. “I’m not deaf. First, whether I look plain or not, you have zero right to gossip about it behind my back. Second, any woman with a shred of self-respect wouldn’t try to compare her looks to another guy’s girlfriend when she knows he’s taken.” Harper froze. Her eyes instantly turned red, and she looked at Caleb with extreme grievance. Caleb sighed. “Maya, what are you doing? I didn’t see your message. If you want to fight, fight with me. Don’t bully the younger girl.” I turned to him. “Oh, you’re defending her pretty fast. It makes me look like an unreasonable villain. I’m no forgiving saint. I cannot tolerate my boyfriend ignoring his phone for thirty minutes to keep another woman company, leaving me standing in ninety-degree heat on campus. I don’t care about the precious doors of your lab, and I won’t ever step foot in here again. And ‘Do Not Disturb’ requires actual swiping to activate; you don’t just bump it.” Caleb’s face stiffened. “What do you mean by that? I seriously don’t know how it got turned on. Why would I intentionally silence your notifications?” “Are you misunderstanding something…” Harper looked pitiful. I said coldly, “Don’t put on that tragic act for me. Whether I misunderstood or not, you know exactly what you’re doing in your heart.” The air was quiet for a moment. “Come on, why are we getting so serious?” Caleb pulled me into his arms, laughing like a peacemaker. “Harper couldn’t solve a problem earlier and used my phone to listen to Spotify, but how could she possibly mute you? You can be paranoid, but you can’t blame her. I probably just shoved it in my pocket and the screen was unlocked…” “Caleb, let’s break up.” I heard my own voice. Caleb froze. “Wait, you flew all the way across the country, and just because I missed your text, you want to break up with me?” He sounded almost amused by his own anger. “You also touched her head.” “That’s it?” His eyes widened. “Yeah.” I said flatly, “I find it disgusting. Is that not enough?” 04 I didn’t go to the welcome dinner that night. After telling Caleb we were done, I turned and walked away. He didn’t chase after me. Because Harper started crying. She was sobbing, gasping for air, looking incredibly fragile. Caleb was actually very good at handling people. Very good at coaxing them. When he wanted to be. My best friend from high school, Riley, went to the same university as him. I dropped my luggage at her dorm first. Hearing I hadn’t eaten, she insisted on taking me to a newly opened, viral restaurant. When we got to the mall, Riley went to the restroom first. I sat by the restaurant entrance, looking at the menu while waiting for a table. As fate would have it, Caleb had booked the exact same place. A loud group of guys walked right past me. “Caleb, didn’t you say your girl was coming? Where is she?” “Throwing a tantrum. She’s not coming,” Caleb’s tone was helpless. “What happened?” “Mad that I didn’t text back fast enough.” “That’s it?” The guy laughed. “Women are such a hassle. Thank God you’re doing long-distance. If you had to deal with that every day, who could survive?” “Women are all like this. They just want to be coaxed,” another guy joked. “Just get on your knees and beg a little, you’ll be fine.” “Beg? Why don’t you go beg?” Caleb used his folded umbrella to swat the guy. “Giving her the cold shoulder is good for her. These past three years, her temper has only gotten worse.” I looked up. The umbrella was pink and compact. It was definitely not a style a guy would use. Trailing right behind him, empty-handed, was Harper: “Honestly, I don’t think you did anything wrong, Caleb. If you’re not wrong, why should you apologize first? It’s not about who gets mad, it’s about logic…” I stood up. Riley came back just in time: “Is it our turn?” I shook my head. “Almost. Caleb is inside.” “Huh?” Riley hesitated. “Should we go somewhere else?” “No need.” The restaurant is open to the public. There’s no rule saying I can’t eat here just because he is. Five minutes later, our table was ready. Riley and I walked in, but right by the self-serve beverage station, someone suddenly rushed at us, screaming. “Oh no, I can’t hold it, move, move…” Before I could react. I was splashed head to toe by Harper, who was carrying two massive glasses of craft beer. 05 The commotion alerted the people in the private booths. By the time Caleb came out, Harper’s tears were falling one by one. “I really didn’t mean to. The floor by the drinks station is slippery, I couldn’t stop myself. I already said I’m sorry…” “You didn’t mean it?” Riley was furious. “In a place this big, you carry two huge glasses of beer and walk straight into Maya? Maya couldn’t even dodge. Do you think we’re blind?” “What happened?” Caleb stepped out. He paused when he saw me. “Why are you here?” I was soaked, covered in sticky beer, and completely out of patience. “Why? Did Mr. Sterling buy this whole property? Am I banned from anywhere you go?” He frowned. “Why are you firing off like a machine gun? Who said you couldn’t be here?” He stepped closer. “Why are you all wet?” Riley sneered. “Why don’t you ask your precious junior?” “Caleb, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose! My foot slipped!” Harper cried. “I didn’t expect anyone to be standing there. Why did she suddenly pop out of nowhere…” Caleb sighed. “I told you that you couldn’t handle the heavy lifting, but you insisted. Why were you carrying two massive glasses anyway? You should’ve just let me do it.” “Have you no shame?!” Riley erupted. “What do you mean she popped out of nowhere? We were walking perfectly fine. She clearly rammed into her on purpose!” “Riley, watch your mouth,” Caleb said coldly. “What’s your problem?” My temper flared. “Riley is defending me. Whether she did it on purpose or not, she knows it in her heart. You didn’t even ask what happened and you’re immediately taking her side? Are we not using logic anymore?” “How am I taking her side? I’m trying to be reasonable here.” His tone was exasperated. “Maya, take your anger out on me all you want, but she didn’t do it on purpose. Can you stop nitpicking and making things difficult for her?” I quietly stared at the man in front of me. We met in high school, knew each other for six years, and survived three years of long distance. In just one more year, I was supposed to get early admission to his university’s grad program. We had dreamed about marriage, painted pictures of our future, even talked about what our kids would look like. Yet now, after I was splashed with beer, with my dress literally dripping onto the floor, he was telling me to stop making things difficult for another woman. “I’m not making things difficult,” I said flatly. “My dress is ruined. It wasn’t expensive, maybe two hundred bucks. If she pays me back, we can call it even.” Harper froze. “Two hundred dollars is half my monthly grocery budget…” She looked at Caleb with red eyes. “Caleb, my dad will kill me…” “Oh, it’s fine, it’s fine.” One of the guys backed her up. “Don’t be scared, we can all chip in to cover it. It’s just two hundred bucks!” “Yeah, if we all pitch in twenty bucks, we’ve got it. Don’t cry, okay?” Caleb frowned. “Maya, Harper doesn’t come from a wealthy family. Two hundred dollars is a big deal to her. It’s just a dress. Let it go, okay? I’ll buy you a new one.” I sneered. “If she knows it’s a big deal, she should have been more careful. It’s my dress, and I have the right to demand compensation.” “It’s not really your dress, though,” Caleb suddenly said. I froze. “Maya, if I remember correctly, I bought that dress for you.” His voice was light, but every single word felt like a knife plunging into my chest. “Gifts given during a relationship can be legally taken back. “So let’s drop this. If you insist on pursuing it…” He paused, seemingly giving me a final chance to repent. “Then give the dress back to me.” 06 I quietly met his gaze. A second later, I turned, grabbed Riley—who was about to start screaming at him—and walked out of the restaurant. “Maya, how could you just walk away?!” Riley was fuming the whole way. “Did Caleb get kicked in the head by a donkey? He doesn’t care about you at all! How could he say something so disgusting to you?!” My footsteps halted. “Maya?” Riley looked at me with concern. “If you want to cry, just cry…” I shook my head. “I’m fine.” Afterward, I went to Riley’s dorm, took a shower, changed my clothes, and dropped the dirty dress off at the front desk of Caleb’s dorm building. Then, I went straight to the bus station. It was too late to book a flight or an express train, so my only option was an overnight Greyhound bus to get home. The overnight bus was loud. Babies crying, people arguing, mixed with the smell of cheap fast food. Caleb’s messages came through right then. “What kind of temper tantrum is this? Did you really think I’d make you return the clothes?” “I just felt you shouldn’t have been so aggressive. There were so many people from my department there. I can’t just throw all logic out the window and blindly side with my girlfriend.” “I ordered the exact same dress online and had it delivered to Riley’s dorm. Go downstairs and get it.” He sent more messages, but the screen was covered in water. My eyes were covered in water. I couldn’t see clearly. And I didn’t want to. I tapped the screen and blocked his number. When I woke up, it was 2 AM. My eyes hurt. My head hurt. The lights outside flickered, and the bus had quieted down. I suddenly remembered another time I took an overnight trip like this. It was also with Caleb. It was our sophomore year of high school. We went out of state for an English debate tournament. Tickets back were hard to get. The chaperone talked to our parents and let Caleb and me take an earlier bus back together. That night, I dozed off. When I woke up, I realized I had somehow ended up resting my head on his shoulder. I was mortified and quickly apologized. He just looked at me, smiled, and asked, “Having a good dream?” I shook my head. “Well, I was,” he smiled. “It was a great dream. You should keep leaning on me, so I can go back to it.” After that, we slowly grew closer. He was handsome, outgoing, and every time he played basketball, a crowd of girls would bring him water and cheer for him. Sometimes I would go watch for a bit, always standing in the back. Until one day, as I was leaving, I heard someone calling me from the court. “Maya Vance!” I froze, turned around, and saw Caleb jumping over the crowded bleachers, smiling at me. “Watch me!” A clean dribble, a fake-out, a perfect three-pointer. The crowd went wild. After the game, he asked me why I never stayed until the end. “Too many people. I can’t squeeze to the front.” “That’s easy. Next time, I’ll have them save you a seat.” The next time I went, I was indeed escorted to a seat in the very front row. “Caleb specifically saved this for you,” the guy who brought me there winked. At halftime, a bunch of girls rushed the court to hand him water. He waved them off and walked straight to me. “Where’s my water?” Me: “Huh?” He rolled his eyes playfully, placing a hand on my head: “Ms. Vance, there is no free lunch in this world. You admired my heroic posture all game, and you don’t even have a bottle of water for me? I’m heartbroken.” Eventually, the water delivery evolved, and he requested to change seats so he could sit right in front of me in class. The day we submitted our college applications, he cornered me at the classroom door. “What are you thinking about?” “Thinking about what?” He looked like he was laughing out of frustration. “Do you think I just love twisting my neck to look backward, or that I’m just bored? Maya, even the ants on the ground know how I feel about you.” My face burned hot. “But we didn’t get into the same college…” “Wow, you can actually say something so irresponsible?” He pulled me into a hug, staring at me. “Distance isn’t the problem. I’m just asking you one thing: Do you like me?” The setting sun spilled into the classroom, illuminating our faces. I blushed and nodded. That day, when a very light, gentle kiss landed, I felt like I was the luckiest person in the world.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “405514”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

A bottle of water costs $15, and a sandwich is $40. People say we’re dead for sure. Little do they know, I’m a hardened “broke girl,” and this game falls right into my wheelhouse. I will be the only “broke” survivor to walk out of this hell. My 99 attempts to fight back couldn’t stop me from being sucked into this game world. The system’s electronic voice sounded: [Welcome, 100 players, to the Broke Survival Game!] [Initial funds: $50. Objective: Survive in the game area for 7 days.] [The winner gets a $1 million prize!] [Overspending, death, or leaving the game area will result in elimination—you will be burdened with a $1 million debt!] The voice paused, carrying a hint of cunning: [Now, do any cowards want to quit?] “Quit? Are you kidding me?” A punk with dyed blond hair and a lip ring sneered. “Seven days? I can survive just drinking tap water!” A chubby guy next to him in a cheap t-shirt wiped his sweat. “Yeah, exactly! $50 is plenty for hot dogs and pretzels if we budget right!” “Risk it all, turn a bicycle into a sports car!” “Only an idiot would quit!” The crowd buzzed with blind excitement. Not a single one of the 100 players quit. System voice: [Game rules activated. Players may no longer quit. 100 players have been deployed—Welcome to the Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) Labyrinth. Good luck staying alive!] With a flash of white light, I found myself in a massive, modern airport. It was huge, stretching out endlessly. Crowds of people bustled back and forth. It was impossible to tell who was a player and who was an NPC. My game account quietly showed my initial $50. Three metrics appeared on my interface: Hunger, Thirst, and Energy. All three were currently full. I saw a 24-hour convenience store across the way and walked over to check the prices. Just as I reached the refrigerators, a tearful exclamation exploded. “Shit!” It was the chubby guy from earlier. He was staring intensely at the cooler. “$15 for a bottle of water?! Is this a robbery?!” I walked over, my eyes scanning the shelves, and my heart sank. A cupcake was $50, a sandwich $40, a bagel $10, and even the cheapest bag of soda crackers was $18! A daily budget of $7.14? That wouldn’t even buy half a bottle of water. The chubby guy looked at me, his face written with despair. “Sister 66, we’re screwed! This money is only enough for three bottles of water! People are going to die in a week!” I sighed. “The system isn’t running a charity. I knew it wouldn’t be this simple.” Other players flooded into the convenience store, their faces reflecting the same shock and panic. The chubby guy pulled me aside. “Sister, I’m Player 44, Davis. Let’s form an alliance. It’s good to have a partner in the game. If someone bullies you, I can fight them.” He threw a few boxing jabs, looking reasonably agile. Before I fully understood the game’s rules, I didn’t want to ally with anyone, so I politely declined. I left the convenience store alone. First things first: find water. Free water. Outside the restrooms, I found a drinking water fountain. I found two discarded empty water bottles nearby, washed them thoroughly, and filled them to the brim. Water sorted. Cost: $0. Next, I needed to secure a massive amount of calories. I spotted a Starbucks. On the condiment bar, packets of white sugar, creamer, and raw sugar were neatly stacked. Sugar is a crucial energy source. The packets could be used in emergencies to prevent hypoglycemia. I walked over expressionless, my movements as natural and smooth as picking up something at home. Over a dozen sugar packets and a few creamers instantly slid into my pockets. The whole process took less than two seconds. Then, I calmly walked out of the Starbucks. Finding a secluded corner, I tore open two sugar packets and poured them into my mouth. The intense sweetness exploded, bringing a false sense of satisfaction. Calories sorted. Cost: $0. The airport’s AC was blasting like an icebox. Maybe the system did this on purpose; the colder it was, the faster you burned calories. My thin clothes couldn’t block the chill. I had to keep moving to stay warm. I found an airline blanket in a trash bin, discarded by a passenger getting off a flight. As time passed, my hunger grew stronger. At 8 PM, I wandered into a bakery. In the glass display, unsold baguettes and cheese breads gave off an enticing wheat aroma. My stomach let out a loud rumble. Relying on my acute “broke” intuition, I guessed the bread should be on sale by now. Sliced toast, originally $30, was now $15. But it wasn’t enough. Right before closing, the discount would be even lower, maybe even free. Every dollar saved was a chance to survive. I sat on a chair across from the bakery, resting with my eyes half-closed. Suddenly, an anonymous player broadcasted in the game’s global chat: [Hurry to the bakery in Zone A on L3! The bread here is half price!] “Half-price bread!” “Zone A! Hurry!” “Don’t grab it! It’s mine!” Twenty or thirty figures surged from all directions, frantically rushing the bakery. The small entrance instantly became a mob. In the chaos, I saw people waving cash, and others reaching directly for the bread on the shelves. The clerk shouted in panic, “Line up! Line up!” but it was completely useless. In just a few minutes, all the discounted bread on the shelves, including the toast I had my eye on, was swept clean! Those who managed to buy something looked relieved, as if they had survived a disaster. Those who didn’t beat their chests in frustration, their eyes full of despair. The air was filled with curses, complaints, and desperate sighs from other players. My Hunger level had already dropped by 70%. I took a deep breath, suppressing my stomach cramps, and shifted my gaze from the chaotic crowd up to the giant flight information display high above. Red flight statuses were continuously scrolling. It was time to show my real skills! In this airport, players could move anywhere. Even without a ticket, we could go to the departure gates. I quickly scanned the massive screen and precisely locked onto a few bold, red delayed flights. Only flights delayed for over 6 hours were my targets. Dragging my weakening legs, I walked toward one of the gates. A small crowd had already gathered there, the air thick with anxiety and sweat. Gate 102 had been delayed for 8 hours. Stranded passengers surrounded the gate agent. The agent was a young woman, her face flushed red, as the passengers’ spit practically flew into her face. “Is your airline completely useless?!” “My child is crying from hunger! Are you going to do anything?!” “Compensation! We demand compensation! Give us our money right now!” The scene was pure chaos. The agent’s voice drowned in the noise, and she looked like she was about to cry. This was the chance! I forcefully pushed my way to the center of the crowd. Not to break up the fight, but to stand directly in front of the gate agent. “Quiet!” I roared with all my might. The sudden outburst stunned the crowd into silence. I pointed at the mother holding a crying child, then addressed all the passengers, raising my voice to be as inflammatory as possible: “Look! Look how much the baby is crying! If we tear the roof down yelling here, is the plane going to fly? The airline made a huge mistake, and they must be held accountable! But what do we need most right now? Food! A place to rest! We need to save our energy to fight them to the end!” I turned to the overwhelmed agent, speaking rapidly: “Everyone is highly emotional. The priority is to calm the passengers down. Issue meal vouchers and hotel vouchers immediately! Let everyone eat and settle down first. Otherwise, if this blows up, can you take the responsibility?” “I’ve been telling them that meal vouchers and hotel vouchers can be issued, but they don’t want them,” the agent said, sounding wronged. “Everyone needs to line up and get them according to their boarding passes.” “You’re still talking about procedures at a time like this?” I interrupted her, pointing to the mom with the baby. “Look how tired this mother is. Can she really stand in line for your meal vouchers after holding a child for 8 hours?” I turned to the mom. “Ma’am, give me your boarding pass! I’ll get it for you.” I held out my hand with undeniable authority. The mom, grasping at straws, immediately shoved her boarding pass into my hand. Once someone took the lead, the effect was instant. Several other passengers—those with elderly family members, kids, or just looking extremely exhausted—started shoving their passes into my hands too. “Help me get one too!” “And mine!” In an instant, I was clutching over a dozen boarding passes. I turned to the agent, thrust the passes at her, and lowered my voice. “Hurry up. Let’s solve the most urgent ones first. Better than ending up on the news, right? Give me two extra meal vouchers, and I’ll help you pacify these people with kids. It gives everyone an out.” The agent looked at me gratefully and typed furiously on her computer. She pulled out a stack of meal vouchers, counted out the ones matching my passes, then quickly grabbed two more, shoving them all into my hands together with a thankful look in her eyes. Done! My heart hammered, but my face remained calm. “Ma’am, here you go! Take the baby and go eat!” “Sir, here’s yours!” I quickly distributed the corresponding vouchers and boarding passes back with practiced efficiency. Finally, I pinched the two extra vouchers, stuffed them into my innermost pocket, and shouted to the crowd: “Everyone go get your vouchers, eat, and rest! Save your strength! We’ll settle the score with them later!” While the crowd’s attention shifted to claiming their vouchers, I slipped away like an eel, disappearing into the bustling terminal concourse. To survive this game, you had to be better at finding loopholes than the average person. Just outside the lounge, I ran into Davis again. He smiled good-naturedly. “Sister, I saw what you did. You were negotiating like a mob boss in a movie. Are you sure you won’t ally with us? We might need each other’s help later on.” In just one day, he had gathered four other players around him. I still declined his invitation. After stuffing myself with a burger combo using the voucher, my Hunger level temporarily filled back up, but exhaustion washed over me like a tide. My Energy level had fallen below 50%. It was now 11 PM. The airport foot traffic had noticeably thinned out, most stores were closing, and the lights dimmed. An indescribable, eerie atmosphere began to settle in. The seats in the terminal all had armrests to prevent people from lying down. A young player, likely unable to hold on any longer, wrapped himself in a thin jacket and curled up on the floor, trying to sleep. Barely two minutes passed before a bright flashlight beamed directly onto his face. “Get up! No lying down here!” the security guard’s voice was robotic and devoid of emotion. The young player ignored the NPC, rolled over, and kept sleeping. Suddenly, a squad of guards armed with batons rushed out from a corner. Without a word, they forcefully hauled him up and threw him out the main doors of the airport. The global chat broadcasted: [Player 13 eliminated for leaving the game area. Debt: $1 million.] Right after, players in other zones were eliminated in the exact same way. The system was forcing our hand, using exhaustion and the cold to squeeze out the players’ last drop of sanity. By this time, my Energy level was critically low. To avoid elimination, I pulled the ragged blanket over myself and fell asleep sitting up in a terminal chair. The sun rising the next day informed us that only one day of the game had passed. My Energy barely crawled back to 75%, but my Hunger had dropped back down to 50%. With one meal voucher left, I wasn’t too panicked. I drank some cold water, ate two sugar packets, and headed toward the departure hall to hunt. Suddenly, a player sprinted past me, snatching a hot dog right out of a child’s hand. He brushed past me, nearly knocking me over. The child burst into tears. Security rushed over, surrounded the player, and tossed him into a police cruiser outside the airport. System broadcast: [Player 25 snatched NPC food, thrown out of the airport by security. Eliminated. Debt: $1 million.] I realized something: whatever you do in this airport, do not alert security. The airport was strange today. Not a single flight was delayed. I guessed the system had patched the loophole I exploited. All day, I wandered the hall like a normal passenger, popping into every duty-free and specialty store that offered free samples. Of course, I only ate and never bought anything. I watched the clerks’ faces while sampling, and as soon as I noticed them glaring at my freeloading, I’d quickly slip away. I managed to scrap by until the evening. I used my last voucher for dinner, topping up my Hunger again. My Energy dropped even lower today. This time, I chose not to make do with a terminal seat. I slipped into a dim side corridor. At the end of it was a golden real estate spot I’d discovered during the day: an abandoned equipment room with a cracked-open door. It was full of junk, but once the door closed, it was a private sanctuary. I had just stepped inside, before I even had time to shut the door properly, when—Bang!—a loud crash echoed as someone kicked the door wide open. A tall white guy stormed in, followed by two young punks. Scared, I shrank further back into the room. “Get out, this place is ours!” the tall guy yelled at me. I recognized him. Yesterday at the bakery, he was the one fighting the hardest. He had even snatched bread straight from the hands of two other players. Knowing I couldn’t mess with him, I decided to surrender my prime real estate. Just as I reached the door, the tall guy suddenly pulled out a switchblade and pressed it against my neck. “Hand over the rest of your cash and any food you have! Right fucking now! Or I’ll slice you open.” The madness and cruelty in their eyes told me they would absolutely do it! My brain raced. Fight back? I had zero chance of winning. Hand over the money? That meant being eliminated and bearing a $1 million debt. What do I do? What do I do? I swallowed hard. “Bro, let’s talk this out. You know robbery will get you eliminated by the system.” “Cut the crap! Hurry up, I’m out of patience.” The blade pressed deeper into my neck. I gave up resisting and decisively transferred my $50 balance to him. I could only earn a million if I stayed alive in the game. The tall guy got the money and shoved me out the door. As they closed the door, I heard a smug voice from inside: “Direct robbery works perfectly. Good thing he told us robbing wouldn’t get us eliminated. Now we don’t have to worry about running out of cash.” Who was “he”? Robbing NPCs was forbidden, but robbing—even killing—players was allowed. Who knew the rules this thoroughly? It was only day two, and I had lost my only $50. No money, no food. Was I just supposed to wait for death? Not long after, another anonymous broadcast echoed across the global chat: [The soda crackers at the Zone B 24-hour convenience store on the departure level are on sale.] The equipment room door opened. The tall guy and his lackeys walked out. I quickly hid to the side and tailed them toward the convenience store. The three of them used all their stolen money to buy soda crackers. Following the electronic chime of a successful transaction, the system broadcasted: [Players 5, 49, and 61 eliminated due to overspending. Debt: $1 million.] The tall guy wailed, “This is money I stole! How does that count as overspending?!” Before he could finish, he vanished into thin air like a beam of light. His two sidekicks disappeared like lightning strikes right after him. Dozens of bags of soda crackers and four or five bags of bread clattered onto the floor. I rushed over, stripped off my jacket, and wrapped the crackers and bread tightly inside. I guessed right. The system said from the start that overspending meant elimination, but everyone only had $50. How could anyone overspend? There was only one way: if you robbed another player’s money and spent more than $50, it counted as overspending. But when the tall guy robbed bread from players at the bakery, he wasn’t eliminated. That meant stealing food didn’t trigger the penalty. It was highly predictable that in the coming days, more people who figured this out would start brawling over food. So, the food had to be hidden perfectly. With this stash, I could absolutely survive until the end. I found five spots I deemed safe and scattered the crackers, intending to unlock one location each day to get through the final five days. By the time I finished, my Energy level was critically low again, hitting the red warning zone. I sat back down in the terminal chairs and fell asleep. Day three. A fit of violent, lung-tearing coughing erupted nearby, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. It was Player 47, Emily, a girl who looked very frail to begin with. She was curled up on a cold metal bench, her body shaking violently. Her face was flushed from coughing, bordering on purple. Her boyfriend, Brad, also a player, looked at her in disgust. “What’s wrong with you? A fever? Don’t tell me you can’t make it to day seven!” Emily’s voice was hoarse and weak, thick with phlegm. “I just… I feel so cold, so sick. Brad, can you hold me, please?” “No way. What if you infect me?” Brad refused. A piercing siren rang out across the entire terminal without warning. Heavy, synchronized footsteps approached from a distant corridor. Hazmat-suited quarantine personnel easily hoisted Emily up. “Let me go! I can’t be eliminated!” Emily screamed in terror, yelling at her boyfriend: “Brad, help me! Help me!” But Brad didn’t even look at her; he turned and bolted. The hazmat team ignored Emily’s cries. Under the horrified gazes of the other players, they threw her onto a stretcher cart and quickly disappeared down the corridor. A few seconds later, the system broadcast: [Player 47 severely endangered public health and safety. She has been forcibly removed from the game area for quarantine. Eliminated! Debt: $1 million!] [Player 87 severely endangered public health and safety. He has been forcibly removed from the game area for quarantine. Eliminated! Debt: $1 million!] Players looked at each other, their eyes brimming with suspicion. “87 ate food from the trash yesterday and had severe diarrhea today.” “You can’t catch a cold, and you can’t get diarrhea either.” Who would be next? Just the sound of a cough, even someone clearing their throat, was enough to make hearts pound. I had learned another rule: you cannot get sick. Even a minor cold or an upset stomach would get you dragged out of the game area. I survived the day relying on my scavenged bread and crackers. The airport was even colder today, literal freezing temperatures. I found a foil emergency space blanket in a trash can, discarded by a hiker. Wrapping it around myself kept me much warmer than that tiny, ragged airline blanket. By day four, more and more people were being eliminated. Waking up early, I decided to go grab my bread and crackers for the day. Avoiding the crowds, I headed to the first stash spot: a gap between a massive planter and the wall behind a remote restroom. Approaching it, I crouched down and reached into the familiar crevice. Empty! There was absolutely nothing inside. My heart plummeted. Unwilling to give up, I felt around carefully again. Not even a shred of the wrapper was left. Panicking, I sprinted to the next location. Nothing. Still nothing. All four locations where I hid the crackers had been robbed. Dozens of life-saving bags of soda crackers and bread had vanished overnight without a trace. My guaranteed victory had been completely overturned in an instant. To accurately locate every spot and silently clear them out in a single night—this wasn’t something an ordinary player could do. Who was it? Who had been watching me this whole time? My mood hit absolute rock bottom. I shamelessly went back to hunting for free samples, but the number of players doing the same had surged. The vendors were on high alert and had hidden all their sample trays. Even the Starbucks condiment bar was barren. The baristas had removed all the sugar packets. Trash cans became a battlefield. Many players still risked diarrhea to dig for scraps. By the time I checked them, not even a crumb was left. I dragged myself to 10 PM. All my stats were flashing red warnings. I walked toward a row of luxury boutiques. A player nearby whispered, “That girl’s probably getting eliminated soon. What’s she doing near the luxury stores?” In a trash can near the boutiques, I found several discarded designer bags and boxes. Travelers often threw away the packaging before departing to dodge customs taxes. I carefully stuffed the boxes into the most pristine Hermès paper bag, carrying it as I headed down to the departures level. During my earlier scouting, I noticed a high-end steakhouse there. Now, I was going to leverage it for a free resting spot and some complimentary appetizers. Pushing open the heavy glass doors, the warmth and aroma of roasted meat rushed over me. A server with a sweet smile jogged over to greet me. “Welcome! A table for how many, miss?” “Two.” I casually placed the eye-catching luxury shopping bag on the chair next to me, my voice carrying a trace of barely noticeable hoarseness. “Find me a quiet booth. I’m waiting for someone.” The server’s eyes swept over the bag, and her smile deepened. “Right away, miss. Right this way, please!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “405515”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day Everett Sterling’s plane crashed into the ocean, I nearly went mad, plunging into the waves to end my own life and follow him. It wasn’t until I was rescued that I realized it was all just a cruel, malicious April Fool’s joke. Right before I lost consciousness, I heard his little canary say in that sickeningly sweet, mocking tone: “Everett, your wife really loves you to death. If she knew you were just testing her, she’d probably go crazy, right?” He chuckled, his voice devoid of any warmth: “Crazy? After Serena had the baby, she’s been as docile as a caged rabbit. As long as you guys keep your mouths shut, this is the last time I’ll test her loyalty.” The crowd burst into laughter, everyone promising to keep the secret. Laying on the stretcher, I couldn’t shed a single tear anymore. Everett didn’t know, but that was also the last opportunity I would ever give him. From then on, my love for him dropped to zero. Chapter 1 When I woke up, I was in a private hospital in Manhattan. A peeled apple sat on the nightstand. In the past, whenever I was sick, Everett never showed up. He would only have his assistant send over a pile of flashy, expensive supplements. Seeing my calm expression, he picked up a slice of apple and held it to my lips. “Happy to see I’m not dead?” I turned my head away, avoiding the apple. I caught a glimpse of a faint purple hickey just below his collar. My voice was as calm as a pool of dead water. “Everett, let’s get a divorce.” His hand paused. Then, he simply popped the apple slice into his own mouth, chewing it loudly. A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. He made a phone call right in front of me. Soon, his assistant brought Leo in. I hadn’t seen him in a few months. Five-year-old Leo had grown a bit taller. However, the look in his eyes when he saw me was still full of distance and disgust. Shortly after Leo was born, he was taken to the Sterling estate in Long Island to be raised by his grandfather. I only got to see him during holidays. I knew exactly why Everett brought the child to the hospital. In the past, whenever he partied too hard outside and I gave him the silent treatment, he would use our son as a shield. I had lost count of how many times he had used this exact same trick. But this time, this trump card was no longer my weakness. Looking at Leo, who had gained some weight, I didn’t smile. Leo frowned in displeasure. He was simply a miniature version of Everett, even speaking with the exact same tone: “Serena, you’re still so boring and strict. Daddy, I don’t want to stay here. I want to go back and have Mommy Lila play Legos with me…” Mommy Lila? No wonder he refused to call me Mom. He had already acknowledged someone else as his mother long ago. Everett’s gaze instantly turned sharp. Leo obediently shut his mouth, but voluntarily buried himself in my arms, muttering: “Daddy yelled at me!” Usually, I would hold him tightly, but this time, I pushed him away. “Go complain to your Mommy Lila.” Those two identical faces froze at the same time. I stared straight into Everett’s eyes, speaking word by word: “Everett, I’m serious about the divorce. I’m not joking.” A flash of anger crossed his eyes, quickly morphing into mockery. “Serena, playing hard to get is only fun up to a point. If you really piss me off, you’ll never see your son again for the rest of your life.” So he thought I was just taking a step back to gain an advantage. I remembered last year, when he got into a scandal with a starlet that ended up with her in the ER. I asked for a divorce. He locked me in our penthouse for six months and refused to let me see Leo. I gave in back then. But it was also that time I realized I couldn’t bring myself to love him anymore. “Everett, I’m moving out as soon as I’m discharged.” I looked right at him, my gaze unwavering. Realizing I wasn’t throwing a tantrum, his face turned serious. “You want a divorce? We’ll see if you actually have what it takes.” After he led Leo away, I picked up my phone and sent a message to an unknown number: “I’ve thought about it. I’ll leave as soon as the National Dance Championship is over next week.” Chapter 2 After being discharged, I returned to the Sterling estate, packed a few things, and headed to the dance studio. Since I had decided to leave, I didn’t want any more entanglements with Everett. However, as soon as I walked in, my colleagues’ looks were complex and subtle. A colleague I was usually close to pulled me into a corner and asked worriedly: “Serena, how did you offend ‘Mrs. Sterling’? Not only did she steal your competition spot, but she also made the boss fire you.” Mrs. Sterling? Following her gaze, I looked toward the center of the stage. Lila Rose was wearing a haute couture dance outfit, exuding the aura of someone entirely spoiled. I almost forgot, she had always paraded around outside calling herself “Mrs. Sterling.” At that moment, she was arrogantly soaking in everyone’s envy, until she spotted me in the shadows. “Serena, I’m so sorry. The boss felt my style was better suited for the championship, so the only spot went to me.” Before, she used to hide her claws around me. Now, she dared to walk all over me. “Lila, what exactly is your style? A stripper’s style? Do you dare tell everyone your real identity?” She used to be a cam girl famous for pushing boundaries, and only got into this high-end studio because of Everett’s connections. Lila’s face flushed bright red, and tears quickly welled up in her eyes. Just then, an arm wrapped around her waist. Everett appeared in front of me, his gaze overwhelmingly oppressive. “And what exactly do you think your identity is?” I opened my mouth, but a wave of bitterness rose in my throat. His mother died saving me. Nine years of marriage, even giving him a child, couldn’t offset the weight of that life. When he was drunk, he would grab me by the throat and roar: “Serena, you married into the Sterling family to atone for your sins, not to play the rich wife! Don’t forget your place!” Seeing me zone out, Everett leaned in close and lowered his voice: “Serena, if you want to keep this job, crawl back to the estate like a good girl.” I finally understood. He was the “boss” Lila mentioned. He gave the spot to Lila and forced the studio to fire me, all to make me bow my head, admit my mistake, and take back the word ‘divorce’. Seeing I remained unmoved, he sneered: “Gotten tough now, huh? Want to escape my control? Then I’ll break your wings and see how you try to fly.” He made a phone call. Less than five minutes later, my best friend texted me: “Serena, I think I pissed someone off. I just got promoted, and my boss called me in and said he has to let me go…” I pressed my lips tightly together and began packing my belongings. As I left, I heard Lila mocking me from behind: “Serena, in the end, don’t you still have to rely on a man? I thought you had a spine.” My hand trembled on the handle of my suitcase. I turned around and fired back: “Did you forget? Legally, I’m not divorced yet. He is still my husband…” Suddenly, Everett grabbed my wrist. “Serena, who gave you the nerve to bully Lila in public? Did you treat my warnings like garbage?” My heart felt like it was pricked by a needle. Married for so many years, he never publicly announced my identity. The outside world only knew he was married, but he was never short of beautiful women by his side. Since I couldn’t participate in the competition anymore, I didn’t need to wait a week. Thinking of this, I actually felt relieved. Before returning to the estate, I went to a law firm. After printing out the divorce papers, I texted that number: “Not waiting a week. I’m leaving in two days.” Chapter 3 Back at the estate, I sat on the living room sofa, dazed. It was rare for Everett to come home this early. He stood in the entryway, looking at me against the light. In that moment, I seemed to see my past self. Sitting in the living room every day after work, waiting until late at night just for a husband to return. I used to greet him with a smile and considerately help him take off his coat. “Honey, are you tired today? I learned a new massage technique…” All these years, aside from dancing, I spent the rest of my time revolving around him. Day after day, cycle after cycle, yet it never earned me a single kind look. Looking back now, I felt I was an absolute fool. Seeing I didn’t react, Everett frowned: “What are you thinking about? Running away?” I found it a bit funny. “If I wanted to run away, what would you do?” He walked toward me, roughly pushing me onto the sofa, cleverly shifting the topic: “If you don’t like Leo, we’ll just have a daughter. Daughters are obedient. She can keep you company later, and you’ll have an easier time in this house.” When I married into the Sterling family, the staff saw he didn’t care for me, and because of my mild temper, they never respected me, dumping all the heavy chores on me. Those years, I loved him deeply and never complained. He saw it all but always stood by coldly. My thoughts snapped back as he tore off my nightgown. His kisses landed on my body, fierce and overbearing, carrying an obvious sense of punishment. No matter what he did, I was like a piece of wood, completely unresponsive. It turns out that when you no longer love someone, your body genuinely puts up defenses. Everett found it boring and got off me. “Serena, I know your body. You shouldn’t be reacting like this.” He pinched my chin, staring at me intently: “Tell me, do you have a man on the outside?” Everett loved to play around, but he was incredibly possessive and a germaphobe. A security guard at the studio once looked at me a second too long; he was fired that day and Everett found an excuse to throw him in jail. I bit my lip tight, laughing out loud in humiliation: “Yes, just like the ocean you died in, I’ve been filthy for a long time. Are you going to arrest all those men too?” Everett narrowed his eyes, his voice raspy: “Is that so?” Suddenly, he scooped me up into his arms and walked toward the bathroom. He actually doubted me! “Since you’re dirty, let’s wash you clean.” He threw me into the bathtub, aimed the showerhead at my face, and turned on the freezing water. Goosebumps covered my body. Stimulated by the cold water, my PTSD was instantly triggered. My mind flashed back to when I was thirteen, the scene of my parents’ plane crashing into the ocean surface. I trembled uncontrollably, curling up in the corner. But Everett thought I was faking it. “Serena, don’t forget the purpose of you marrying into this family. You are here to atone!” That phrase again. This was almost our only mode of interaction. Out of ten sentences, nine were laced with malice. Chapter 4 Seeing my eyes lose focus to the point where I was about to bash my head against the wall, Everett finally panicked and carried me back to bed. “What’s wrong with you? Where does it hurt…” “Everett, you’ve tortured me enough all these years. Let’s let each other go!” I used every ounce of strength I had to throw the divorce papers at his face. He stared at the signature line and sneered: “In such a rush to divorce, the guy on the outside can’t wait?” I closed my eyes and stopped talking. He slammed the door and left. After tomorrow, I could escape this nightmare forever. The next day, Everett texted me: “If you want my signature, come to the Hilton, VIP Room 708. I had the maids prepare your clothes.” It was a modified cheongsam that made my waist look incredibly slender. When I pushed open the door, a group of rich heirs were jeering and looking at me. Lila sat next to Everett, her smile blinding. “Serena, Mr. Thorne wants to see a dance. I sprained my ankle, so I have to trouble you.” The gazes of these men landed on me like they wanted to eat me alive. This was Everett’s goal—to make his legal wife entertain his mistress and business partners. “Serena, didn’t you want a divorce?” Everett leaned into my ear, his breath hot against my neck, but making me feel like I was plunging into an ice cave. “As long as you dance until he’s satisfied, I’ll sign.” He pushed me right in front of Mr. Thorne. The man wrapped his arm around my waist, his eyes blurry with lust: “They say dancers have the softest waists. I see it today. Don’t worry, I promised Sterling I’d just feel around, I won’t actually do anything to you. As long as I enjoy myself, Sterling gets the contracts for the second half of the year.” I looked at Everett in disbelief. Everyone in our circle knew Thorne was a creep with a fetish for dancers’ waists, and someone had even been sent to the hospital with a broken rib because of him. I struggled to run, but Everett yanked me back. “Serena, don’t be such a prude. It’s just a touch, you won’t lose a piece of flesh. This is your bargaining chip for the divorce.” So, this was the price of divorce. The moment the door closed, I plunged into despair. An aphrodisiac incense burned in the room, making my consciousness blur. I grabbed a wine bottle from the table and swung it at Thorne, but he caught my wrist. The bottle smashed against my forehead. I fell to the floor, blood blurring my vision. I wanted to bite my tongue and end it, but the silhouettes of my parents appeared before me. “Serena, you have to keep living.” Like seeing a beam of light in the dark, I bit down hard on Thorne’s fingers. While he screamed, I yanked the door open and ran out. Passing another slightly open door down the hall, I saw Everett. He had Lila pinned against the wall, kissing her. “Everett, shouldn’t you really go check on Serena? I’m worried Thorne might…” “What is there to worry about? I warned Thorne, he won’t go too far. I just want to use this to punish her. She’s been too disobedient lately.” Just as I was about to push the door open, Thorne’s bodyguards caught up and dragged me back. My heart died completely. Right before losing consciousness entirely, I slammed my head forcefully into the corner of the wall. Mom, Dad, Serena is coming to find you. An hour later, Everett pushed open the door to Room 708. He thought he would see me crying and begging for forgiveness. But all he saw was shattered glass and a pool of bright red blood on the floor. A cleaner was whispering nearby: “That girl earlier was so tragic. Her clothes were torn to shreds. She refused to submit and just smashed her head against the wall and died…” Chapter 5 Everett didn’t believe I was dead. He rushed to Thorne’s private estate. Thorne was having his forehead treated by a private doctor. Seeing Everett, Thorne looked a little scared: “I swear I didn’t do anything! She hit the wall herself! You can’t pin this on me.” Everett’s face was terrifyingly dark: “Say that to me one more time!” Thorne waved his hand impatiently: “Worst comes to worst, I’ll sign another year’s contract! Consider it compensation for your wife’s life! I even had her body sent back to the Sterling estate. I’ve done more than enough.” Everett completely lost control and beat Thorne mercilessly. “Who told you to touch her! I’ll kill you!” He beat Thorne into the ICU. Soon after, Thorne was reported for multiple sexual assault charges and went straight to prison after being discharged. In the days that followed, Everett kept running away from the reality of my death. Eventually, Mr. Sterling Sr. stepped in to handle the funeral. My name became a taboo in the Sterling household. On the day of the burial, Everett got blackout drunk. When he got home, Leo hugged his leg: “Daddy, I don’t want Serena to die. Can you bring her back?” The word “die” triggered Everett. He picked Leo up with one hand, his voice hoarse: “Who told you she’s dead? She’s not dead!” “And why didn’t you ever call her Mom?!” Leo burst into tears and was eventually taken away by the maids. On the seventh day after my death, Everett hid in our bedroom, crumpling the divorce papers in his hand. He stared blankly at the wedding photo on the wall. In the photo, I was wearing the cheapest wedding dress, yet smiling brightly. And he was as cold as ice. He only married me for revenge. Even though I wholeheartedly played the role of a wife, he couldn’t forget that his mother drowned trying to save me. In a daze, he thought he saw me walking toward him. He greedily hugged the silhouette: “Serena, is it you? You came back?” He inhaled the scent on her body. It wasn’t my usual gardenia, but a strong, pungent perfume. He snapped awake. The person in his arms was Lila. “Everett, let me be your wife, okay? Whatever she could do, I can do too.” She pressed closely against him. “Get out!” He pushed her away in a rage. Lila gritted her teeth, her eyes full of resentment. She touched her stomach and sneered: “I’m pregnant. It’s yours.” Everett looked quietly at her stomach, a cruel curve forming on his lips: “Are you sure?” He forced Lila to the hospital. An hour later, the paternity test was slapped onto her face. “The kid isn’t mine. During your ovulation window last time, I got a vasectomy. Did you forget?” Lila froze, then laughed like a maniac: “Everyone says you’re a playboy, but it turns out you’re a hopeless romantic. Too bad Serena will never know. She’s dead! Hahaha!” That same day, Lila was blacklisted from the entire industry and sued for fraud. Everett’s life became a blurry mess. Waking up thirsty in the middle of the night, he would subconsciously call out: “Serena, get me a glass of water.” Touching the cold empty space beside him in bed, he’d feel a suffocating pain. Until one day, outside the study, he heard his parents arguing. Chapter 6 “Old man, that corpse was obviously a fake. Everett is ruining his life over that woman. Shouldn’t we tell him the truth? Besides, what happened with Serena’s parents’ plane crash… Everett’s mother went to save her because of our families’ friendship. It was an accident! He’s blamed her all these years…” “Shut up! Let it be! I never liked Serena anyway. Married and still dancing outside all day, disgraceful. As long as Leo is still with us, that’s all that matters!” The Sterlings and my family used to be close. Everett and I were childhood sweethearts. When I was thirteen, my parents’ private jet crashed into the ocean. I witnessed everything and developed severe PTSD. On the anniversary of their death, I had an episode and jumped into the ocean. Mrs. Sterling thought it was Everett who jumped, so she dove in to save him without thinking. I was saved, but she drowned. Fourteen-year-old Everett came home from school to see me crying while holding his mother’s body. He decided I killed his only support system. From then on, he developed avoidant personality disorder, constantly seeking a sense of security by tormenting me and testing my love. Over our nine-year marriage, he played around with models and actresses, even flirting right in front of me. Only when he saw me suffering but unable to leave could he feel needed. On April Fool’s Day, he even faked a news report of his plane crashing into the ocean. He knew perfectly well the ocean was a shadow I could never overcome. He watched me run madly into the water while he and his awful friends laughed and took bets on the shore. The moment he learned the truth, Everett smashed his fist into the wall. “What… what have I been doing all these years?” He rushed to the cemetery, only to find a familiar figure standing in front of the tombstone. Chapter 7 My best friend held daisies, smiling at the headstone: “Serena, this is all I could do. You have to be fiercely happy for the rest of your life.” Everett rushed forward and grabbed her: “Where is Serena?! Tell me!” My best friend was startled, then furiously shook him off: “You bastard! Serena was killed by you, what else do you want?!” But under Everett’s relentless interrogation, she finally revealed the truth. The day I hit the wall and passed out, I met the man who had been helping me in secret—Grant Harrison. He was my sponsor when I danced, and the one I kept in contact with. Sensing my dangerous situation, he bribed the doctors and the funeral home in advance to fake my death. I was now living under a new name in California. He owned a top-tier dance theater there. A year later, I won the National Dance Championship in Los Angeles. On the podium, Grant walked toward me with a bouquet. He got down on one knee and pulled out a blue diamond ring. The crowd went wild. “Serena, if that marriage brought you pain, let me be your safe harbor for the next stop.” Just as I was about to nod, a man rushed the stage and swatted the ring away. “Serena! You can’t marry him!” Everett looked at me with bloodshot eyes: “You are my wife, how can you marry someone else?” I looked at him coldly: “Sir, you have the wrong person. I don’t know you.” “I’m sorry, I misunderstood you. But I love you. Decades of feelings shouldn’t end like this.” Grant tactfully stepped aside and dismissed the crowd. I figured there was no need to pretend anymore and said coldly: “Forgiveness? Everett, I told you the truth countless times, but you never believed me.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “405516”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When my husband was diagnosed with cancer, the doctor said it was highly treatable, but the out-of-pocket costs would be astronomical. I immediately called my mom to borrow the money. She agreed over the phone, but behind my back, she secretly texted my husband, tricking him into thinking I was the one who had been diagnosed with cancer. I understood what she was doing. I blamed her for not trusting my husband, but she just looked at me seriously and said, “If your husband is willing to do the same for you, then I will gladly lend you the money.” Just as I was about to argue with her, my phone buzzed. It was a text from my husband: “Let’s get a divorce.” Staring at the screen, the slap in the face came so fast my cheeks practically burned. I had always cared so much about him. The only reason this cancer was even caught was because I forced him to go get a comprehensive physical exam. He just showed up; I was the one who booked the appointments, handled the insurance, and ran all the errands. If I hadn’t dragged him there, his cancer wouldn’t have been caught early enough to treat. I thought my absolute devotion would buy me a lifetime of companionship. Who knew I had married such a cold-blooded snake? Before I could even figure out how to reply, my mother-in-law started bombarding me with texts: “Come home right now. We need to talk. I told you to stop eating so much takeout and cook your own meals, but you never listen. Look what happened, now you have cancer.” Reading her rapid-fire messages, I felt like I was suffocating. When I finally dragged my heavy, exhausted body back to our house, his entire family was already sitting around the dining table, looking dead serious. My father-in-law, Arthur, cleared his throat and looked at me. “Come sit. We are having a family meeting.” My mother-in-law, Brenda, impatiently cut him off. “What’s there to meet about? Just hurry up and sign the divorce papers. My son is still young, what is he supposed to do, be dragged down by a sick person for the rest of his life?” Under the crushing weight of the room, I looked at my husband, Kevin. “Is this how your family treats me?” He sighed, putting on an incredibly innocent face. “Don’t get mad right off the bat. Let’s just be reasonable, okay?” I let out a cold laugh. Reasonable? When I found out he had cancer, my first instinct was to run to my mother and beg for a massive loan to save his life. When he thought I had cancer, his first instinct was to drop me. What reason was left to discuss? Noticing my expression, Kevin leaned forward, looking entirely serious. “Do you know? I watched a documentary once. The lives of families fighting cancer are miserable. They try so hard for years, and in the end, the patient still dies, and the family is left completely bankrupt.” “What’s your point?” I asked. He seemed to struggle to find a way to make it sound pretty. Finally, he choked out, “Isn’t it better to leave the living with a little hope and financial security? We are all trying so hard just to survive.” I inhaled sharply. As his wife, I had seen him at his worst, but to hear him try to sound poetic while actively asking me to lay down and die was a new low. “Did you even consider letting me try treatment?” I asked. “You don’t even know what the medical bills will look like.” He didn’t, but I did. The doctor said conservative estimates out-of-pocket would be around $200,000. I had just gone to my mom to borrow $100,000. And this was the ending I got in return. Kevin didn’t know how to answer, so Brenda quickly jumped in. “Oh, please, do we need to know the exact numbers? Western hospitals are all scams! The minute you walk in, they run a million useless tests and drain your bank accounts. Listen to me, you should see a holistic naturopath. If you don’t want a divorce, I can take you to this amazing alternative herbalist I found on Facebook.” Arthur nodded along. “Right. You’ve been with our family for years. You’ve worked hard. We wouldn’t just abandon you. So, we have two options: either we divorce, or you skip the scammer hospitals and let the herbalist treat you.” I wasn’t an idiot. I knew exactly what they meant. They didn’t care about alternative medicine. They just wanted to avoid paying for real scans and chemo, buy me some cheap herbal teas, and call it a day. And in their minds, this was an act of profound mercy. I slumped back in my chair. “The doctor already said it was caught early. We can start with targeted therapy, then see if we need surgical resection. If all else fails, we can wait for an organ transplant. We have plenty of time and treatment options.” Kevin suddenly interrupted, “But do you know about transplant rejection?” I froze. “We are nowhere near that step yet. Why would you bring that up?” “I just want you to know the facts,” he said. “People who get organ transplants usually don’t live that many years anyway. They spend hundreds of thousands of dollars just to buy themselves a few extra years, and then they need another transplant. Can I be honest? I think that kind of person is selfish.” I sucked in a breath of cold air. He was usually such a careless guy, always acting before he thought. But at this moment, he had skipped right past the targeted therapy and surgery, zooming straight to the worst-case scenario. “We are husband and wife,” I said quietly. “Are you sure you want to use the word ‘selfish’?” He nodded. “Yes, selfish. I know for a fact that if I were the one who got sick today, I wouldn’t even tell you. I would just quietly find a place to swallow a bottle of sleeping pills. I wouldn’t want to drag anyone down. That is the awareness I have as the provider of this family.” Looking at his self-righteous face, I finally understood. He was actually incredibly smart. He just used his intelligence to be horribly cruel. I forced a bitter smile. “So, what do you want me to do?” Kevin couldn’t wait. He practically lunged backward to grab a document folder and shoved it toward me. At that moment, my heart turned to absolute ice. Whatever was in that folder, I knew that while I was on my way home, they had been sitting in the living room treating me like an enemy, plotting how to trap me. I opened it. It was a post-nuptial agreement they had drafted together. First: I must choose alternative holistic medicine or only use drugs strictly covered by our basic insurance plan. No out-of-network or experimental treatments. Second: The husband has the right to terminate my treatment. If I pass away from the illness, considering the husband’s “efforts,” all my assets go to him. My parents get nothing. Third: I am strictly forbidden from secretly borrowing money to fund my own treatment. If I do, the husband has the right to divorce me immediately, I leave with zero assets, and I assume all the debt alone. I expected them to be harsh, but I didn’t expect them to try and pick my bones clean. “I’ve been married into this family for years,” I said softly. “And at the hardest moment of my life, this is how you treat me?” “Love goes both ways,” Kevin said defensively. “If I were the one who was sick today, I’d have already swallowed the pills and written my will. You just don’t have that level of sacrifice in you.” “Would you really swallow them?” I asked. Kevin looked at me dead in the eye. “Of course. You shouldn’t doubt my sense of responsibility to this family. If you care about us, sign the agreement. It’s actually good for you.” “Good for me? How?” It was a predatory, borderline illegal contract, and he had the nerve to say it benefited me. “Think about it,” Kevin reasoned. “You have cancer now. I’m willing to help take care of you. But if you can’t be saved… you’re an only child. Your parents will need someone to look after them, right? I promise you, I will take care of your parents in the future.” I stared at him with pure disgust. He was ready to throw his own wife in the trash, and he expected me to believe he’d care for my parents? He was already drooling over my parents’ estate! Brenda chimed in quickly. “Exactly! Stop being so self-centered. When a person is nearing the end, they should be generous. You should prioritize us and your parents. Stop being so selfish.” Honestly, I used to respect my mother-in-law. But at this point, the masks were completely off, so I didn’t bother saving her face. “Is a person simply wanting to live considered selfish now?” I asked. Kevin grew agitated. “Yes, it is! If you just blindly treat this illness and drain all our money, I’ll be saddled with a lifetime of debt because of you. When you die, what am I supposed to do with the rest of my life? I’m still young!” I cast a cold glance at him. I finally realized that when you no longer love someone, everything they do just looks pathetic. He always had a habit of yelling when he got emotional. I used to think he was just impulsive but had a good heart. I was so wrong. Now, he just made me nauseous. “Forget the post-nup,” I said evenly. “Let’s just get a divorce.” He nodded eagerly and immediately pulled out a pre-prepared divorce agreement. I wasn’t even surprised he had it ready. Who knows how long they had been scheming? The divorce agreement was much simpler. He keeps the house, we split the cash savings 50/50, and we take our own personal belongings. “This is the most fair way,” he explained. “My parents gave me the down payment for this house. Even though your name is on the deed, the law says whoever paid for it owns it.” “You bought the house, yes,” I said. “But you bought a bare-bones fixer-upper. I paid $50,000 out of my own pocket for the full gut renovation. Return my $50,000 renovation costs.” “How is it $50,000?” Kevin scoffed. “You aren’t even accounting for depreciation…” Before he could finish, Brenda shoved his arm, cutting him off. She shrugged and looked at me smugly. “Then go ahead and rip the renovations out and take them with you! I never liked your taste anyway.” I took a deep breath. I couldn’t believe how venomous they had become. To actually suggest I demolish the interior like a slumlord—it was shameless! Arthur, being a bit slower than his wife, didn’t understand her play. “Why are you telling her to tear it out?” he protested. “We live here comfortably!” Brenda rolled her eyes. “Let her tear it out! She has cancer. She needs to stretch every single penny. If she hires a demo crew, it’s going to cost her at least five grand. Do you really think she’s willing to waste that kind of cash right now?” Arthur’s eyes lit up with realization. He nodded at me confidently. “Go ahead. Tear it out and take it. If you can stomach the cost.” I slowly turned my head to look at Kevin. “This is your family’s final answer, right?” Kevin hesitated for a split second before saying, “I listen to my mom. My parents paid for the house anyway.” I let out a broken laugh. “Marrying you was the biggest regret of my entire life.” “The feeling is mutual,” he snapped back. “You’re no saint either. All you can think about is making us sacrifice everything for your illness! In the end, you’ll either drag out a miserable existence for a few years, or die early, leaving us scarred and broke.” “Do you know,” I said softly, “if you were the one who was sick, I would have gone into massive debt just to save you.” “Stop dealing in hypotheticals!” he yelled defensively. “My parents worked hard for their money. They raised me. Why should I drag them down for you? Am I supposed to just abandon my duty to my parents?” I looked at him coldly, finding the whole thing almost funny. At this point, I didn’t believe a single word that came out of his mouth. I knew that if a man could abandon his innocent wife so easily, he would absolutely abandon his parents when push came to shove. I sighed, pulled out my phone, and called my general contractor, Mike. Because I was the one who funded and managed the entire remodel, I still had his contact info saved. When he picked up, I said, “Mike, I need you to come over. Bring your crew and tear out every single piece of the renovation you did in my house. Rip it all to the studs.” In that instant, the color drained from all three of their faces. Arthur jumped up. “Are you really calling someone to destroy the house?! Are you out of your mind?!” Brenda quickly pulled him back. “Don’t panic! She’s bluffing.” But Arthur was terrified. He grabbed Kevin’s arm. “Talk to her! If she actually tears it out, where are we supposed to live?!” Kevin looked at me with profound disappointment. “Are you… are you really unwilling to leave me even this last gift?” That single, pathetic sentence almost made me throw up. “I’ll give it to you if I want to,” I said. “If I don’t want to, you get nothing.” He sighed heavily. “You’re still like this. Always acting on emotion. This is the time you need money the most, yet just to spite me, you’d rather we both suffer. If you didn’t have this selfish flaw, I wouldn’t even be divorcing you.” I shook my head. “We’re past this point. Stop gaslighting me. You’re just trying to find a scapegoat for your own shamelessness. My back hurts, I’m not carrying your guilt for you.” Brenda gritted her teeth. “I know exactly what you’re doing! You spent fifty grand on this, and calling the demo crew is just a show. You’re trying to scare us into paying you more! When the crew gets here, you’re going to say we can buy the remodel off you!” Kevin gasped. “Mom, is she really doing that?” “Can’t you tell?” Brenda sneered. “I always knew you married a calculating woman. She’s using all her little schemes on us!” At that moment, Kevin lost his temper. He yelled at me frantically, “How can you be so vicious?! We loved each other! I don’t want to abandon you, I just want a normal, happy life! What is so wrong about that?!” Brenda slapped her chest dramatically. “Stop talking to her about love! This woman has no heart. She only thinks of herself. Just say it! How much do you want for the house? Everything’s used anyway. We’ll give you fifteen thousand, max.” I shook my head. “It’s not for sale. You said I could tear it out and take it, so I’m tearing it out.” “What do you mean not for sale?!” Brenda shrieked. “You just think it’s not enough money! How much do you want?!” I pretended to think. “Since you want a price… fifty thousand. Exactly what I paid.” Arthur exploded. “Bullshit! You paid fifty grand brand new, now it’s heavily depreciated and you still want fifty?! Do you think we’re idiots?!” Kevin looked aghast. “I actually felt a little guilty before, but now I know divorcing you is the right choice. We haven’t even filed the papers and you’re already trying to extort us. If we stayed together, you’d drain my family dry.” “I just don’t think your family deserves a single dime of my money,” I said coldly. “Whatever I spent on this house, I’m taking it all back.” Arthur pulled Brenda aside, panicking. “What do we do? Do we really give her fifty thousand? If she tears it down, we have nowhere to sleep tonight.” Brenda’s face twisted with pure malice. She pointed a finger right at my nose. “Tear it down! Go ahead and tear it down! You think I won’t call your bluff?! I’m putting this on the record right now—the second a hammer hits my wall, you’re not getting a single cent from us!” I completely ignored her threat, packed my overnight bag, and told Kevin to get ready to head to the county courthouse to file the paperwork. Brenda kept chattering behind me, convinced I was trying to scare her. She deliberately slammed the dishes into the sink, making a massive racket, and spat out bitterly, “I think you deserve this cancer! It’s because you’re a terrible person. God gave you exactly the karma you deserve!” “However terrible I am, I’m better than you,” I replied flatly. “At least I don’t abandon my spouse the second they get sick.” She sneered. “Then why did karma hit you? My son is going to live a long, healthy life, and you’re about to drop dead.” I let out a long sigh. Her son definitely wasn’t going to live a long, healthy life. If Kevin wasn’t all talk, he’d be swallowing a bottle of sleeping pills very soon. Honestly, if he actually did swallow the pills like he promised, I’d believe he was telling the truth and admit I misjudged him. I’d respect him as a man of his word. But if he didn’t, then he was the ultimate hypocrite! Full of righteous morality, but rotten to the core! Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find Mike and his demo crew. Mike, looking a bit confused, stepped inside. “Hey Emily. Are you unhappy with the work we did? It still looks brand new. Why are we tearing it out?” “I’m perfectly happy with the work,” I said casually. “I just want it gone.” Brenda sat at the dining table, laughing sarcastically. “Still putting on a show. Go ahead, tear it down. I’m begging you to tear it down.” Mike walked in, bewildered, while Brenda smugly poured herself a cup of tea. Mike turned to me and whispered, “Emily, to strip this whole place down to the studs… it’s gonna cost you about five grand in labor and disposal.” Brenda took a loud sip of her tea and mocked, “Oh wow, five thousand dollars! That’s enough to pay for a whole round of medical scans! Are you really willing to throw five grand in the trash right now?” Kevin and Arthur hid behind Brenda, letting her handle the negotiations, even giving her a secret thumbs-up. She spat a tea leaf back into her cup and drawled, “How about this. We’ve lived together for years, let’s both take a step back. I’ll make you an offer…” Before she could finish her sentence, I turned to Mike. “Tear it down. Right now. I have to get to the courthouse.” Mike hesitated. “Emily, are you sure? I brought the work order. Once you sign it, we’re taking the sledgehammers to it.” I immediately took his pen and signed the contract. Brenda clucked her tongue. “Look at her, so committed to the bit. Keep acting. I’ll give you a final offer. Fifteen grand. That’s our bottom line. Just take it and stop the performance…” I glanced at Mike. “Why aren’t you moving?” Hearing my tone, Mike immediately signaled his guys. One of them picked up a heavy sledgehammer. Brenda finally panicked. She jumped up and screamed, “I’m warning you! The second that hammer hits the wall, I am not giving you a single penny!” In that moment, I had two choices. One: take the fifteen grand, admit I was blind to marry him, and cut my losses. Two: kick my husband while he was down, ensuring that the man who had cancer wouldn’t even have a roof over his head. I chose option two. Money can always be earned back. But if I swallowed this anger, I wouldn’t find peace for the rest of my life. “Smash it,” I said calmly. The worker swung the massive sledgehammer, slamming it brutally into the custom drywall. With a deafening CRASH, a massive hole exploded in the wall. Brenda shrieked in absolute terror. She threw herself toward the wall, crying and screaming, “Stop hitting it! This woman is insane! You’re dying anyway, why won’t you let us live in peace?! Are you trying to drag us to hell with you?!” Her arrogant, smug demeanor was completely gone. Staring at the gaping hole in her pristine living room, she beat her chest in despair. Mike looked at me nervously. “Emily, what now?” “There are six of you,” I said. “Are you really going to let one old lady stop you?” Mike instantly understood. He knew I was the one who had paid him to build this place. He waved his hand, and his crew unleashed absolute chaos. The hardwood floors, the custom cabinets, the drywall, the luxury bathroom tiles—all smashed to unrecognizable pieces. Kevin stood frozen in the middle of the room, shell-shocked by the violence of the demolition. He stared blankly and muttered, “You crazy bitch. Even if you beg me on your knees to remarry you, I will never take you back!” Arthur and Brenda were running around frantically, trying to physically block the workers. But there were too many guys. They’d block the kitchen, and the bathroom would get smashed. They could only stand there and watch their beautiful home be reduced to concrete and dust. I smiled at Kevin. “Well, now our divorce agreement is perfectly balanced. Let’s go to the courthouse.” Brenda sobbed hysterically. “Divorce her! Divorce her right now! I don’t want to spend another second with this psycho!” Kevin took a deep breath, grinding his teeth. “Let’s go. We’re filing it right now. I just hope that when you are on your deathbed, you don’t come crawling back to beg me for help!” I glanced at him. I knew that if I told him the truth about his cancer diagnosis right then, it would be incredibly satisfying. But I wasn’t stupid. I saw right through his mother. In our state, there’s a mandatory 30-day waiting period before a judge finalizes a divorce decree. If I told them he had cancer now, she would absolutely force him to use his status as my legal husband to take out massive medical loans. Under the law, marital debt incurred during a medical emergency could make me liable for half of it. As long as I held onto the truth until the divorce was finalized, they couldn’t latch onto me like leeches and force me to subsidize his healthcare. I married the wrong man, but that didn’t mean I had to be an idiot. I was going to let this piece of trash walk straight into hell on his own two feet. Kevin and I went to the county clerk, filed the petition, and the 30-day waiting period officially began. As we walked out of the courthouse doors, Kevin glared at me fiercely. “I can’t wait to see the day you drop to your knees and beg me to save you. When that day comes, I’m going to kick you to the curb and tell you to rot!” I gave him a placid look. “I’m looking forward to that day, too.” Honestly, I was a little worried that during the next 30 days, Kevin might log into his patient portal, see his results, and immediately withdraw the divorce petition. But to my absolute shock, Brenda made an unexpected move. She actually made Kevin quit his job and took the whole family on a month-long vacation out of state. I heard through mutual friends that she was terrified I would withdraw the divorce to trap him, so she made him run away until the waiting period was up. She even bragged that if I tried to stall the divorce, they would just live out of state permanently, dodge the summons, and drag it out until I died of cancer. Because of Brenda’s brilliant plan, Kevin never checked his medical records or went back to the hospital for his follow-up. Finally, the 30-day waiting period was over. That day, the judge signed the final decree. Holding his copy of the divorce papers, Kevin waved it in my face with a cold sneer. “From today on, even if you die in a ditch, it has nothing to do with me.” He turned to leave, but I spoke up. “Hold on. I have a parting gift for you.” Brenda, standing right next to him, spat venomously, “What kind of gift? You’re already divorced, are you still trying to win him back? Thank God I took him away for a month, otherwise you really might have trapped us.” I calmly pulled up the hospital’s patient portal on my phone and handed it to him. Kevin frowned. “What is this? Are you giving me your phone?” I shook my head. “This is your electronic medical record. Your physical results came out a month ago, but you ran out of state and never checked them.” Kevin scoffed. “Oh, so now you care about my health? Don’t act like a loving wife in front of me, it just makes me sick.” “Just read it,” I insisted. He took the phone and glanced at the screen. Slowly, the arrogant smirk melted off his face, replaced by absolute horror. Brenda, who couldn’t understand the medical jargon, leaned in curiously. “What does it say?” Kevin dropped his arms, staring into space. “How is this possible? Why do I have cancer?” “They found your cancer a month ago,” I said honestly. “I went home to borrow money from my mom to pay for your treatments. But my mom was worried you were a scumbag, so she lied to test you. Looks like she won the bet.” Brenda panicked. She snatched the phone and read the screen frantically. “This is wrong! Weren’t you the one with cancer?! How did it suddenly become my son?!” “You guys hid out of state for a month partying,” I said evenly. “I’m guessing the cancer has gotten much worse. We were married once, so consider this a friendly heads-up.” Kevin was terrified. He lunged forward and grabbed my arm. “No, you can’t leave! Why didn’t you tell me clearly back then?! I’m not divorcing you! You can’t go!” I yanked my arm out of his grip. “The judge already signed the decree. Don’t touch me.” Brenda started hyperventilating. “How could you divorce my son when he’s sick?! You have a duty to take care of him!” She desperately grabbed the divorce decree and tried to shove it back at the court clerk behind the glass. “They aren’t getting divorced! Invalidate this right now!” The clerk, who had heard the whole exchange, rolled his eyes aggressively. “Where were you during the 30-day waiting period? Do you think the legal system is a game?” I put my copy of the papers in my purse and turned to walk away. Brenda threw herself in front of me, blocking the exit. She was sobbing hysterically. “My son is dying, and you hid the truth from us! You made him waste a whole month of precious time!” Kevin stood frozen in place, his face ashen white with fear. “Those were his test results,” I said coldly. “He chose not to check his own portal. How is that my fault? And where were you guys for the past month? Oh right, you were terrified my illness would drag him down, so you made him hide out of state.” Brenda wailed at the top of her lungs, “How can there be such a vicious woman in the world?! You abandoned your own husband when he got sick!” She screamed as loudly as she could, trying to draw the attention of everyone in the lobby to shame me publicly. But we hadn’t exactly been whispering. Everyone in the courthouse lobby had heard exactly what happened.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “405517”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel