Category: English

1 Isabelle Ridley and I grew up inseparable. The day we turned eighteen, our families announced our engagement. From then on, I counted the days. But Isabelle saw it as a cage. “Most people get to fall in love a few times,” she once said bitterly. “Why am I stuck with you, from cradle to grave?” She shrugged, adding, “You should date around too, Noah.” She lived by her words. In the year after our engagement, Isabelle cycled through seven boyfriends. With each one, I calmly said it was fine, telling myself she’d get it out of her system and return to me eventually. Then came the eighth. She brought him to her family’s annual gala, holding his hand as he called her “Izzy.” I set down my fork and, in front of everyone, slid the signed engagement contract to the center of the table. “You were right, Isabelle,” I said steadily. “Committing to one person for life? It’s a raw deal.” Later, when I stood before her with Sophia Langdon—the Langdon heiress—Isabelle smashed her champagne flute, her eyes red with fury. “Noah, what is this?!” I smiled. “Isn’t this what you wanted? I tried. And she’s a perfect fit.” … I’d been to the Ridley family gala many times. But tonight was the first time I walked through those doors as something other than “Isabelle Ridley’s fiancé.” “Is that Noah Prescott? What is he…” “Who is he holding hands with? Is that the Langdon girl?” “And who’s that standing next to Miss Ridley? What is going on…” Isabelle shot to her feet, the legs of her chair scraping a jarring shriek against the polished marble floor. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she pointed a trembling finger at Sophia. “Do you have any idea who he is? He’s my fiancé!” Sophia glanced at me, a silent question in her eyes, asking if she should speak. I gave a subtle shake of my head. Mrs. Ridley forced a smile, trying to smooth things over. “Noah, there must be a misunderstanding. Izzy is just young and likes to have her fun. In her heart, she’s still yours…” I looked at Isabelle’s mother and offered a smile of my own. “Mrs. Ridley, she’s had her ‘fun’ for a year. Seven boyfriends. I never said a word.” “Tonight is your family’s most important event of the year, and she brings number eight. If I stay silent now, should I be expected to give up my seat for number nine?” Mr. Ridley’s face turned to stone. He shot Isabelle a look that could kill. She opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off with a raised hand. “You were right, Isabelle. Being faithful is a bad deal.” “So, I’m ending the engagement. It’s over.” I nudged the contract further across the table, then turned to my own father. His expression was unreadable. He met my gaze for three long seconds, then stood. “Richard,” he said to Mr. Ridley, “let’s not interfere in our children’s affairs. But if Noah wants to end this engagement, he has my full support.” Mr. Ridley’s face darkened. He roared at Isabelle, “Get out of my sight! Now!” Isabelle was banished to the study. Even through the thick wooden door, we could hear the sound of things being thrown and smashed. Mrs. Ridley said nothing more, simply following her daughter into the room. Isabelle’s date, a young man named Caden, was left standing alone, wilting under the stares of the entire room. He ducked his head and hurried out of the main hall. The gala ended abruptly. I walked Sophia to the door, releasing her hand once we were outside. “Thank you for tonight, Sophia.” She looked up at me, her gaze warm and uncomplicated. “It was my honor to play a part in your little drama.” Then she got into her car and vanished into the night. I stood there in front of the Ridley estate, a cool wind brushing against me. A red wine stain on my white shirt had dried, leaving a dark, rust-colored mark. When I got home, I collapsed onto the sofa and lay there for a long time with my eyes closed. My mind drifted back to the year Isabelle first took my hand, declaring, “Noah Prescott is mine.” I remembered our eighteenth birthday, the day of our engagement party, when she announced to everyone, “He’s the one for me, for life.” And now, at twenty-two, she had brought her eighth boyfriend to meet me. The person I had sworn to protect was no longer mine to protect. I opened my eyes, took out my phone, and opened my chat with Isabelle. The last message, from three days ago, was a picture of her and Caden. New boyfriend. Cute, right? I hadn’t replied then. And I wouldn’t be replying now. I tapped her profile picture and selected “Delete Contact.” 2 A week after the engagement was broken, I drove out to a tea garden in the countryside to discuss a new project. The place was designed like a classical estate, with a small courtyard at the entrance and a flagstone path lined with bamboo. As I walked through the courtyard, I saw him. Caden. He was sitting at a tea table under a covered veranda, smiling and chatting, with pastries and tea laid out before him. Across from him sat Isabelle. Caden saw me first. A flicker of recognition lit his eyes before he quickly composed himself and pretended to continue his conversation. A hostess came to greet me, and I told her I had a reservation. She led me to a table in a quiet corner. The spot wasn’t far from their table, close enough to overhear their words. I had just sat down when I heard Caden say, “Izzy, about what happened with Noah the other night… what’s the latest?” The teacup in my hand paused halfway to my lips. Isabelle’s voice drifted over. “What’s to handle? He’s the one who broke it off. You don’t expect me to beg him to take me back, do you?” Caden chuckled. “But for him to do that in public… it was a huge slap in the face for you.” Isabelle laughed along with him. “He thinks he can scare me by ending the engagement? Please. Our families arranged it. His word alone doesn’t mean a thing.” I lifted the cup and took a slow sip. It was a premium green tea, this year’s harvest. It was good. Caden asked another question. “So, are you going to see him again?” “See him for what?” Isabelle’s tone was breezy, indifferent. “I have you now.” Caden lowered his voice. “So… when are you going to marry me?” There was a two-second pause. Then, Isabelle’s voice, clear as day. “Soon. As soon as things settle down, I’ll marry you.” I swallowed the tea and poured myself another cup. The steam rose, warming my face, leaving it feeling damp. Caden was still talking, but his voice had become a dull buzz in my ears. Her words echoed in my head, over and over. As soon as things settle down, I’ll marry you. Things settle down. I almost laughed. I had waited an entire year for her to come back to me. And here she was, promising to marry someone else as soon as things “settled down.” I drained my cup, called the waitress, and paid the bill. As I stood to leave, I walked past their table. I didn’t slow my pace. I even wore a faint, polite smile. Caden’s expression shifted, likely surprised by my composure. Isabelle watched me, her gaze following me until I was out of the courtyard and gone. Once I was in my car, I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white. My nails dug into my palms, the pain a sharp, welcome sting. I sent a message to the project manager, changing the location of our meeting. Three seconds later, I started the car and drove away. Back at the tea garden, Isabelle pushed away the pastry Caden offered her. “Let’s go.” Caden looked confused. “Where?” “You go home first. I have something to take care of.” His face fell, but he didn’t dare argue. That evening, the client for my new project was finalized. It was the Ridley Corporation. The next day, I received another message. The project liaison would be Caden. I stared at the message for a long time. Did Isabelle get him a job at her family’s company? Or was he already working there? It didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore. I put down my phone and went back to revising the proposal. 3 At the project kick-off meeting, I found myself sitting across from Isabelle as a contractor for the first time. She was dressed in a sharp business suit, her expression all professional. Caden, also in a suit, sat beside her. I opened my laptop and began my presentation. Five minutes in, Caden held up a hand, interrupting me. “Mr. Prescott, I believe there’s an issue with your target demographic positioning.” I paused and looked at him. “The positioning was determined by preliminary market research. Your team signed off on the report.” Caden smiled. “That was before. I’m in charge of the project now, and I don’t think it’s appropriate. It needs to be changed.” Isabelle nodded beside him. “Caden’s right. Revise it.” I paused for a beat. “Alright.” I continued. Ten minutes later, Caden interrupted again. “This customer flow design is also unacceptable. It’s too convoluted. Did your team even do a site visit when you drafted this?” “We conducted three site visits,” I replied evenly. “The flow is based on…” Caden cut me off again. “I’ve seen your analysis report. The data sources are all wrong. Do it over.” Isabelle nodded again. “Do as he says.” Her gaze met mine for a fleeting second before she looked down at her phone. I took a deep breath. “Understood.” For the rest of the meeting, Caden interrupted me every five minutes, his criticisms growing more and more absurd. The other people in the room exchanged uneasy glances, but no one dared to speak up. When I finally finished, I closed my laptop. Caden smiled. “Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Prescott. Please take the proposal back and revise it thoroughly. We’ll meet again soon.” After the meeting, he cornered me in the hallway. He gave me a slick, smug smile. “Mr. Prescott, I’ll be your point of contact for this project moving forward. Let’s make sure we communicate frequently.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Izzy told me that the success of this project will directly impact the future partnership between the Prescott and Ridley corporations.” “Don’t worry,” he added, his voice dripping with insincerity. “I’ll be sure to ‘cooperate’ with you fully.” I looked at his face and felt a sudden, sharp urge to ask him a question. Do you have any idea that the woman you’re with went through seven boyfriends in a single year? But I didn’t. I just said, “Then let’s stick to the protocol.” His smile widened. “Of course, I’ll follow protocol. I’m just worried Mr. Prescott might not be used to it.” He turned to leave, then glanced back over his shoulder. “Oh, by the way, Mr. Prescott. Izzy said that after this project is completed, we’ll be officially announcing our engagement.” I stood there, motionless, and watched him disappear down the hall. For the next week, I worked late into the night, every night. I revised the proposal eight times. Each time I submitted it, Caden sent it back. My colleagues complained in private, saying he was doing it on purpose. I just told them, “Keep revising.” I knew he was doing it on purpose. Arguing was pointless. At eleven o’clock one night, I was alone in the office, working on the proposal. A knock came at the door. I looked up to see the security guard. Someone was here for me. I went downstairs. Sophia Langdon was standing in the lobby, holding a plastic bag. 4 Sophia walked over and handed me the bag. “I was passing by and thought you might be hungry.” I opened it. Inside was a container of hot soup and a coffee. I looked up at her. “Sophia, did you plant a tracking device on me?” She pretended to think about it. “That would be illegal.” “Then how did you know I hadn’t eaten?” She just smiled, not answering. I started on the soup. The warm broth soothed something deep inside me. She stood beside me quietly, just watching. Suddenly, I let out a small laugh. She looked at me. “What’s so funny?” “Nothing,” I said. “It’s just… I feel like it’s been a long time since I’ve laughed like this.” She met my eyes, her gaze soft and light. I didn’t say anything more. I went home that night and completed the ninth revision of the proposal. I submitted it at two in the morning. At eight a.m. the next day, I received a reply: [Approved.] The project’s milestone reception was held in the grand ballroom of a five-star hotel downtown. The moment I walked in, I could hear the whispers. “Isn’t that Noah Prescott? I thought he was engaged to the Ridley girl. Why is her family giving him such a hard time now?” “I heard they broke it off, but I don’t know the details.” “That Caden guy seems to be Miss Ridley’s new favorite. I bet an announcement is coming soon.” The words floated into my ears, but I kept my face a blank slate. At precisely eight o’clock, Caden entered with Isabelle on his arm. He was dressed in a sharp white suit that made him look dashing. Isabelle was in a magnificent gown, a polite smile fixed on her face. Someone braver than the rest called out, “Miss Ridley, is it true you and the Prescott family have called off the engagement?” Every head in the room turned to look at Isabelle, and then at me. Just as she was about to speak, I set down my glass. “It’s true,” I said, my voice cutting through the murmurs. “The engagement between the Ridley and Prescott families has been cancelled.” A wave of shock rippled through the ballroom. Isabelle’s face paled. She stared at me, her eyes wide. I met her gaze without flinching. Then, a slow, deliberate smile spread across her face. She wrapped her arms around Caden’s neck. And in front of everyone, she stood on her toes and kissed him. Caden froze for a second, then a look of pure joy washed over his face as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her back. Gasps and whispers erupted from the crowd. When the kiss ended, Isabelle pulled back, her eyes still locked on me. “Mr. Prescott is correct,” she announced, her voice ringing with false triumph. “The engagement is off.” “Because the man I’m going to marry… is him.” The room exploded. Caden was so overjoyed his eyes turned red. He held her waist tightly, as if she might disappear. But Isabelle wasn’t looking at him. She was staring at me. Waiting for my reaction. Waiting for a crack to appear in my composure. But my expression remained a perfect, unreadable mask. Just as I was about to say something, a voice came from behind me. “What a coincidence.” I turned. Sophia Langdon was walking through the crowd, a vision of elegance in her evening gown. She moved toward me, her gaze passing over everyone else until it landed on my face. She stopped in front of me, reached out, and took my hand. Then she lifted her head, looking at Isabelle, at Caden, at the entire room. “Because I’m going to marry him.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “397502”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I had my phone on silent all day for a business trip, escorting clients for a fifty-million-dollar company bid, not wanting to be disturbed. Who knew I’d return only to be stopped by my fiancée’s male assistant? “You didn’t reply ‘received’ in the work chat today. Five thousand dollar fine!” I merely assumed he was unaware of my work schedule and ignored him. The next day, my fiancée, Sally, kicked me and my luggage out of the company. The male assistant fanned the flames nearby. “Company policy clearly states you must reply ‘received’ within two minutes. You’re abusing your position, setting a bad example! Other project managers reply instantly; is your hand too precious to type?” Sally actually spoke up for him. “A Vice President brazenly defying regulations and arguing fallaciously! If you don’t pay the fine within a day, you’re suspended for a day!” I looked at the diligently prepared bidding documents in my hand and smiled. Then I called my eldest sister. “I have a fifty-million-dollar winning bid to hand over to you. Also, I accept your previous offer; I’ll start at your company in three days.” 1 “What, finally came to your senses? Didn’t you refuse to come back before, even for a million-dollar annual salary?” My sister’s tone was full of teasing. Thinking of Sally kicking me out of the company because of a male assistant, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. “Don’t even get me started. As long as your company doesn’t have some rule about being fined for not replying ‘received’ in the main work group within five minutes, I’ll be there in three days to start.” “Then it’s settled! No backing out this time!” Soon after talking to my sister, Sally called me. “I left the bid documents in the car. Bring them up.” I heard Ben’s deliberately amplified voice. “Ms. Vance, these tasks are for me, your assistant. How can you ask the Vice President to do them? Mr. Will already has a grudge against me after being fined today. I’ll go instead…” Sally’s stern voice, without a second thought, immediately soothed him. “It’s so hot. Your constitution is too weak for running around. Besides, he defied company regulations; you were just doing your job, giving him a friendly reminder.” “Will, I’ll only wait ten minutes for you. If I don’t see those documents, pack your things and leave the company!” The phone call was ruthlessly cut off. I stood there stunned for a long time, then let out a self-deprecating laugh. My fiancée had inexplicably reprimanded me for another man. She even, out of concern for him, made me take over what should have been someone else’s task. I still went to retrieve the documents, after all, there were resignation matters to settle. Sally took the documents. I was about to mention my resignation, but she didn’t even glance at me, handing the papers directly to Ben. “I have an announcement. Due to Will’s disregard for company regulations, I’ve decided to demote him. From now on, Ben will take over his Vice President position, and Will will be an assistant, supporting his work.” Ben looked at her, overwhelmed. “I… Ms. Vance, you’re too kind to me!” “It’s just a shame for Will, but you’ve had enough leisure as Vice President for a few years. It’s time to gain some experience as an assistant.” Listening to Sally heap praise on him, my heart felt as if it were being squeezed by a pair of hands, leaving me breathless with pain. Everyone in the company knew I was Sally Vance’s fiancée, yet under her, I had never received any special treatment due to that connection. On the contrary, I was treated more strictly than regular employees, starting from the bottom, working my way up. I drank so much at client dinners I ended up in the hospital, and secured countless projects to finally reach the position of Vice President. She always used to say, “I don’t want people to treat you differently because you’re my fiancée. I’m training you.” Yet, with Ben, her principles would bend and break again and again. Ben’s brow was etched with smugness. He pulled out a few expense reports. “Will, when you’re in a position, you act accordingly. So I’ll just have to uphold some Vice President rules. These are your hotel receipts from your last business trip.” “The company has always emphasized cutting costs. You’re still staying in five-star hotels? You’re just an assistant now; these expenses can’t be reimbursed.” Sally snorted, praising him. “He just took over and already understands how to generate profits for the company. My judgment is truly good.” My fingertips dug deep into my palms. I forced a calm demeanor. “You can give the Vice President position to whomever you wish, but I will not take the assistant position.” “I’m specifically here to resign. And Sally, our engagement is off.” 2 [Your employment process is complete. Report to work the day after tomorrow.] I received my sister’s message while packing to leave what had been our marital home. Sally returned with Ben, frowning when she saw me at home. “Why are you here?” My hands paused. I couldn’t help but retort, “You must have forgotten, this is my home too.” She seemed surprised by my uncharacteristic attitude, paused, then softened her tone. “Ben’s neighborhood hasn’t been safe lately. He’s now the company’s Vice President, holding considerable power, and as his superior, I should show concern.” “So I’ve decided to let him stay with us for a while, until he saves enough money to move out.” Her words were a complete declaration, with no hint of seeking my agreement. Ben stepped forward, feigning sincerity. “Will, I really don’t want to intrude on your and Ms. Vance’s lives, but Ms. Vance insists on not leaving me alone; she practically forced me to stay.” “She also said that you, Will, are older and more tolerant, and wouldn’t mind these things.” Over the years, I had heard such provocative words countless times, but this time, my heart was already unmoved. I picked up my luggage and said indifferently, “Do as you please. I already said the engagement is off. It doesn’t concern me who you bring into this apartment.” As I approached the entryway, Sally suddenly grabbed my hand, displeasure in her voice. “An entire night has passed, and you’re still not calm? I didn’t even mind you humiliating me in front of everyone yesterday. What exactly are you doing?” “Doing?” I scoffed, all the questions I had for her and Ben trapped within my throat. Looking at this meticulously decorated marital home, I suddenly felt pitifully foolish. It was in this apartment that she had knelt on one knee and proposed to me. “Will, I promise you, I will never let you suffer another moment of hardship.” In the past, even the slightest disagreement between us would make her immediately drop everything to soothe me. But now, she knew I was unhappy, yet chose to resolve it by ignoring me for a night, expecting me to calm down on my own. I shook her hand off, saying calmly, “The engagement is truly off. I’ll have you submit my resignation letter for me.” Ben suddenly rushed forward, blocking me, bowing and apologizing profusely. “Mr. Will! It’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have come here and made you think I was taking your place!” “I’ll go resign right now and never appear before Ms. Vance again!” With those words, he hurried out the door. Sally clenched her fists tightly, shoving me hard, raging, “Will! Will you only be happy if you drive Ben to his death?! The whole company was talking about him yesterday, and he only fined you to set an example for others!” “If he doesn’t live and travel with me, he’ll be ostracized by everyone in the company! I’m making amends for you! There’s nothing between Ben and me; can you put away your filthy thoughts?!” I crashed against the hallway cabinet, the bones in my lower back almost breaking. She left, slamming the door, without even looking back once. 3 I had my employment documents ready to proceed with joining Thorne & Co., but before I could leave, Sally’s secretary called me. “Mr. Will, Vice President Ben hasn’t approved your resignation letter. He requests you come to the office in person, and this is also Ms. Vance’s wish.” Ms. Vance’s wish. This was a blatant attempt to force me back. If my resignation wasn’t processed, the bid project would remain with Sally’s company. That project was one I had secured after repeatedly humbling myself; now that it had won, I had to take it with me. Ben looked down at me, contemptuously tossing the resignation letter to the floor. “My apologies, Will. Have you been Vice President for so many years that you can’t even write a proper resignation letter? The project handover isn’t clearly detailed, so I can’t approve it.” Looking at the resignation letter, revised dozens of times, I clenched my hands, letting out a scoff. “Intentionally targeting me? Ben, I just disdain to argue with you, otherwise, do you really think you’re qualified for this Vice President position?” I picked up the report, looking at him coldly. “Speaking of which, you reminded me. The projects I’ve handled over the years are all critical to the company’s lifeline. It’s certainly not up to you to approve.” Ben, smugly, blocked my way, pushing a lace negligee into my hand. “You’re going to see Ms. Vance, right? Good. Please return this negligee to Ms. Vance for me. Last night, Ms. Vance insisted on wearing this to cheer me up because I was in a bad mood.” “Let me tell you, forget about firing you for not replying to a message. Even if I said you walked into the company with your left foot first, Ms. Vance would listen to me and tell you to get out!” “Oh, I almost forgot, this outfit got dirty last night because we got a little carried away. Will, could you please wash it before returning it? After all, you’ve done plenty of laundry and cooking before.” Rage surged from my feet to my head. I could no longer restrain myself and swung my fist at his face. “Ben, you’re actually proud of being a homewrecker, aren’t you?!” The force was clearly not great, yet he thumped to the ground, clutching his face, crying and apologizing. “Will, I was wrong! But the resignation letter has to follow this procedure! Hitting me won’t help, everyone has to follow the process!” Accompanying his words was a furious kick to the door. Sally, seeing him on the floor, didn’t hesitate for a moment. She raised her hand and slapped me across the face. “Will! How dare you hit Ben!” A searing pain flared on my face. I looked at Sally’s piercingly cold eyes, and it took me a moment to realize what had happened. “Apologize.” Her voice was icy and merciless, her gaze like millennia of frozen ice, chilling me to the bone. “Won’t you even ask what happened?!” My eyes reddened, my head throbbing. I felt like I was about to collapse. “You laid hands on Ben and still think it’s his fault?! You’re truly irrational now, get out of my way! I need to take Ben to the hospital!” She impatiently shoved me. My ears rang, my head spun, and with that push, I actually fell to the floor. She paused, pulling Ben’s hand, about to help me up, when Ben suddenly cried out in agony. “Ms. Vance, what do we do? I feel so dizzy. I wonder if Will’s punch just now injured my brain!” Sally’s eyes were filled with anxious concern. She looked at me, then back at Ben, and finally let go of me. Before I lost consciousness, the only thing in my mind was that deafening slap. And the unbelievable, yet undeniable, truth. The person who once said she would never let me suffer, who worried when she saw me doing dishes and cooking, had actually raised her hand to hit me for another man.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “397518”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day my patron was exposed as an imposter, the true heir of the city’s wealthiest family forced him into a basement where he tried to kill himself. I had just stolen the sponsorship agreement we’d signed years ago, planning to shred it and run. Suddenly, a stream of text began to scroll before my eyes, like comments on a live feed. Typical gold digger. She’s ditching him now, which is perfect. Makes room for our girl, the real heroine. After she leaves him, she’ll find some psycho benefactor who tortures her to death. If only she knew that in six months, he’ll have staged the most epic comeback in history, surpassing the Blackwood dynasty to become the youngest self-made billionaire. He and the heroine will become a legendary power couple. She’d probably claw her way back from the grave out of sheer spite. My hand trembled, and the agreement ripped in two. There was no time to think. I burst into the bathroom and saw him, Alistair, with a fresh cut bleeding on his wrist. I threw myself forward, grabbing his arm, my tears flowing without a shred of dignity. “Alistair, don’t you die on me! Who’s going to take care of me if you’re gone? I was hoping we could renew our contract!” His gaze, dark and hollow, drifted to the two pieces of the agreement on the floor. He spoke, his voice a ghost of its former self. “Really?” 1 “You were only ever with me for the money,” he said, his eyes scanning the damp, grimy basement as if he were a machine. “And now, you see what’s become of me.” His lips, always so vibrant, were now bloodless. I pressed my hands over the gash on his wrist, but crimson still dripped onto the cracked concrete floor. “I’ve been cast out of the Blackwood family. I’m hiding in this hellhole, a man who can’t even support himself, let alone you. So just go. I won’t blame you.” A cold dread prickled my skin, and I shivered. I’d been with Alistair for eight years. To the world, he was the suave, gentle heir. But I knew the truth. He was a viper coiled behind a mask of civility, and he never forgot a slight. His words might have sounded like a release, but the hand hidden behind his back was clenched so tight his knuckles were white. I didn’t know whether to believe the strange text floating in my vision, but my instincts, honed by years of surviving at his side, screamed at me to make a choice. I couldn’t leave. If I did, I wouldn’t have to wait for some future psycho to kill me. Alistair would do it first, and he’d do it slowly. I lunged forward and crushed my mouth against his pale lips. He seized control instantly, kissing me with a desperate hunger that left me breathless. When I finally pushed him away, gasping for air, I snatched the torn agreement from the floor. As he watched in stunned silence, I ripped it into tiny pieces. I cupped his face in my hands, my voice earnest. “Alistair, I don’t want to be your mistress anymore.” A flicker of murderous intent, the kind born from having nothing left to lose, flashed in his eyes. The comments in my vision were just as scathing. [Wow, I actually thought she’d had a change of heart. Turns out she’s just here to twist the knife. Just you wait. When her new patron is torturing her, she’ll be begging Alistair for help, and he won’t even give her a second glance.] [As soon as this parasite leaves, the heroine will burst in and save him. And that’s when his epic revenge story begins. Get the popcorn ready!] I ignored their vitriol, my voice dropping to a soft, trembling whisper. “I know this is probably the worst possible time to say this, but… now that you have nothing, I feel like I can finally reach you. So, Alistair, will you be my boyfriend?” His eyes widened slightly. But before he could answer, my vision went black. The last thing I saw was a single line of text materializing in the darkness. [Changing your mind won’t save you. Deviate from the script, and you’re the one who suffers.] A furious fire ignited in my soul. Follow the script? The script wanted me dead. Why the hell should I? In the suffocating dark, a searing heat consumed me. I ran and ran, desperate to escape, until finally, my eyes flew open. I shot upright, drenched in a cold sweat. I was in a hospital bed, a piercing pain radiating from my core. A soft groan escaped my lips. A cool hand touched my forehead, and Alistair’s voice, thick with fear, washed over me. “Sasha? Are you feeling any better?” The pain was a constant torment. After eight years of him catering to my every whim, never letting a single scratch mar my skin, I had grown soft. The agony was too much. I broke down, sobbing. “It hurts. It hurts so much.” He stood up, helpless, and rushed out to find a doctor. The man who returned with him shot me an irritated look. “If you don’t have the money for tests, you need to be discharged. Stop taking up a bed. What do you want me to do? No money, no treatment. It’s that simple.” Alistair’s voice was a low, furious growl. “Run the best tests you have. I have…” His words died in his throat. His proud posture, always so straight, seemed to crumple. He lowered his head, unable to meet my eyes. The doctor scoffed. “You should probably get going. You don’t have anything left to pawn for another night’s stay.” That’s when I noticed it. The family signet ring he always wore on his little finger was gone. Ignoring the searing pain, I threw myself out of bed, grabbed his hand, and pulled him toward the exit, chattering nonstop to soothe him. “Honestly, just being with you is like a painkiller, you know? It doesn’t hurt nearly as much. You can’t get rid of me, Alistair. You just can’t.” A single, hot tear landed on our joined hands. His voice was a raw, broken whisper. “I won’t.” A small smile touched my lips. And I wasn’t even lying. 2 [He chose to take the side character to the hospital and missed his fated meeting with the heroine. The plot is completely derailed.] [The system’s punishment seems weaker, too. That’s probably why she can still walk. The original penalty for defying the script should have left her in a state worse than death.] [You know, I’m kinda shipping them. The fallen tycoon and his fiercely loyal canary. You don’t see that every day.] I hid the glint in my eyes, piecing together a path to survival from these fragmented clues. So, if I defied the script, I’d be punished. But if Alistair chose me, without hesitation, every single time, it could break the script’s hold. The punishment might weaken, or maybe even… disappear? It all hinged on Alistair’s love. I turned to look at the man who was once the untouchable prince of the city, now trailing behind me, holding my hand with such gentle care. I smiled, my eyes crinkling. “Alistair, you’re my boyfriend now. So you’re going to work hard and get rich again so I can have my old life back, right?” “I promise,” he said, his voice firm, his words a vow. [Is it just me, or did he go from being her sugar daddy to her lapdog?] [Just wait until he starts working. The humiliation and degradation he’s about to face… that’s when the heroine swoops in to save him from rock bottom. Their love story will ignite. That’s the most important plot point.] [So they missed their first meeting. Big deal. It won’t stop them from falling in love. The side piece should start looking for her next benefactor now, before it’s too late.] I didn’t stop Alistair from going to work. The pain was a relentless beast, and sleep was my only escape. He came back exhausted every day. His clothes, once impeccably clean, now had dust ground into the knees. I knew from the comments what was happening. He’d gone to an old acquaintance from his circle, a man named Rick. Rick despised Alistair for being an imposter, but he couldn’t deny his business genius. So he tormented him with petty cruelties. The man who once oozed pride was on his knees, polishing another man’s shoes. He was hauling heavy water coolers up twenty-six flights of stairs, replacing the jug in every office. He was standing in the breakroom for three hours, making coffee for the entire company. Rick even made Alistair clean the toilets. I had smelled the acrid scent of disinfectant clinging to his skin. But despite all that, the first thing I saw when he walked through the door each night was a smile. He’d set down the groceries he’d bought and immediately pull me into his arms. “Feeling any better today?” I’d blink my eyes open, still groggy, and plant a loud kiss on his cheek. “Just having you hold me makes it all better.” “I’m starving. I want dinner.” Alistair, carrying the bag of groceries, moved to the small kitchen with practiced ease. I propped my head on my hand, enjoying the absolute meltdown happening in the comments. [This is the man who used to take three showers if he got a whiff of cooking smoke on him. Now he’s living in the kitchen just to cook for her.] [All she has to do is give him one compliment and he’s putty in her hands. And her whole ‘you’re my painkiller’ line? So cringe, I got goosebumps.] I rolled over in bed. Oh, there’s so much more than that. After dinner, Alistair would wash my clothes by hand, clean our tiny apartment, and then give me a full-body massage. Only after I was sound asleep would he start on the work he’d brought home. Whenever he was here, the slightest sound from me was treated like a national emergency. Like right now. Wearing an apron, he knelt beside my bed. “Did rolling over hurt? Do you need me?” I put on my sweetest voice. “I need my boyfriend to kiss me.” He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his hands, the same hands that had signed billion-dollar deals, began to gently massage my temples. The throbbing ache inside me subsided a little. I closed my eyes, content, and directed him to my shoulders. A shrill ringtone shattered the peace. Alistair’s hands paused before he answered the call. His brow furrowed, and he gave me an apologetic look. “Something came up at work, Sasha. I have to go out for a bit. You finish dinner, just leave the dishes on the table. I’ll wash them when I get back.” I watched him go. The comments exploded. [Rick has been plotting this all along. This isn’t about work. It’s a setup. He’s going to break Alistair’s pride, humiliate him, assault him. But thank god, the heroine is about to make her grand entrance and save the day! I’ve been waiting for this scene. My ship is finally sailing!] [After tonight, that manipulative gold digger will be kicked to the curb. I am so tired of her cutesy, fake act.] 3 A jolt of energy shot through me. I forced myself up, ignoring the pain, and scrambled out the door after Alistair, determined to intercept his and the heroine’s fated romantic encounter. Following the directions from the comments, I found the nightclub and slipped past a distracted bouncer. The pounding music amplified the pain in my body. In the center of the main floor, a noisy crowd had formed a circle. I pushed my way through and saw him. Alistair, pinned to the floor. Rick had his foot on Alistair’s face, grinding his heel into his cheek. The floor was littered with shattered glass, the shards digging into Alistair’s skin. Blood and spilled liquor pooled around him, the metallic, sweet stench making my stomach turn. “Still think you’re some kind of prince?” Rick sneered. “You’re a fake. A nobody. Thrown out on the street with nothing. If I wasn’t feeding you, you’d be begging for scraps right now.” “All I asked was for you to do a little striptease for us. You had no problem getting on your knees to polish my shoes. Why the high-and-mighty act now?” A vile smirk spread across Rick’s face. He grabbed Alistair’s chin, pinching his cheeks until they were red. Rick was notorious in their circle for being into men and women, but I never thought he’d set his sights on Alistair. “You’ve had a tough time, haven’t you? Just soften up a little. Be a good boy and play with me, and I can give you all the money and power you could ever want.” Alistair’s chest heaved, his eyes burning with silent fury. He spat a mouthful of blood onto Rick’s face. The response was a vicious storm of kicks and punches. Rick wiped his face, his expression twisting into a mask of rage. “Break his arms and legs! Strip him naked and hang him from the ceiling! Let’s see how long he lasts with no food or water!” A bouncer lifted a chair over his head and brought it down hard. Alistair let out a muffled grunt, swallowing the scream that rose in his throat. My vision turned red. Forgetting everything about the plot, I grabbed a fruit knife from a nearby table and charged into the circle, swinging it wildly. “Let us go! Or none of us are walking out of here alive!” My voice shook uncontrollably. I’d never been this close to real danger. My frenzied state made Rick stumble back a step. He squinted, and a slow, dawning smile spread across his face. “Well, well, if it isn’t Alistair’s little pet canary, Sasha. Still sticking with him even though he’s broke. What a loyal little whore.” His lecherous eyes darted between us. “I’ve had men, and I’ve had women. But I’ve never had a matching set before. Looks like I’m trying something new tonight.” “You can be my little plaything,” he said to me. “I’ll give you more than he ever could.” The words had barely left his mouth when Alistair, who had been lying limp on the floor, exploded. Veins bulged on his forehead as he snatched the knife from my hand and plunged it straight into Rick’s eye. “You dare touch her!” But Rick had numbers on his side. Bouncers swarmed forward, pinning Alistair down and beating him mercilessly. Rick writhed on the floor, screaming. “A doctor! Get me a goddamn doctor! And skin that bastard Alistair alive! I want him to beg for death!” I tried to shield Alistair with my own body, but someone kicked me so hard I flew backward, crashing into a table and coughing up a mouthful of blood. The fists landing on Alistair were brutal, each blow a sickening thud. But he seemed to feel nothing. His only focus was on me. When he saw the blood spill from my lips, he began to struggle with renewed ferocity. His eyes were blazing red, staring straight at me. He mouthed two words: Run now. [I knew this scene was coming, but it’s still brutal to watch. This incident leaves a permanent scar on him. It’s only with the heroine’s love and support that he’s able to heal.] [No wonder Rick is the one who eventually tortures the side character to death. I wish I could jump through the screen and kill him myself.] That sentence flashed in my mind. A wave of fury and defiance surged through me. Why should I die at the hands of scum like this? Why does he get to humiliate Alistair without consequence? I grabbed a jagged piece of broken glass from the floor and scrambled toward the now-unprotected Rick. As he roared in agony, I drove the shard deep into his neck. Hot blood sprayed across my face and hair. Suddenly, a clear, commanding female voice cut through the chaos. “Stop! Anyone who lays another hand on Alistair Blackwood will answer to me.” It was as if fireworks had exploded in my vision as the comments lit up in celebration. [The hero and heroine have finally met! The plot is back on track!] A wave of unimaginable pain washed over me, stealing the last of my strength. I collapsed to the floor. With my last ounce of will, I turned my head to look at Alistair. And I saw it. A flicker of awe and astonishment in his eyes as he looked at his savior.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “397503”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The moment I saw my husband Henry’s name filled in the “Family Signature” section, I knew he was cheating. I’m an obstetrician, specializing in deliveries. In that instant, I stared at his name for a full five seconds. The nurse beside me stamped her foot impatiently. “Dr. Evelyn, hurry! The patient’s already in, and the family is waiting in the hallway!” I didn’t move. Because just last night, during our video call, Henry had been complaining to me. He said his business trip to Seattle would last half a month. He said he couldn’t sleep without me. With that thought, I picked up the consent form and pushed open the door leading to the delivery ward hallway. On a chair in the corridor, Henry sat, head bowed, meticulously peeling an apple. He peeled it so carefully, the skin a single unbroken coil. Yet, in our two years of marriage, he had never once peeled an apple for me. The moment he looked up and saw me, the apple slipped from his hand and hit the floor. “Ev… Evelyn? I thought you were at your fellowship…” He pointed at me, his lips trembling. I didn’t answer. I simply held out the consent form, even unscrewing the pen cap for him. “Mr. McCarthy, you missed one signature.” “Hurry, your wife is waiting for you.” 1 Henry’s face went white. His mouth opened and closed twice, but no sound came out. “Sign it.” I repeated, my voice steady, cold. He took the pen with a trembling hand, his gaze darting wildly, unsure where to look. “Evelyn, listen to me, it’s not what you think.” “I’m not thinking anything.” I pointed to the last line on the form. “Family confirms consent for delivery, sign here.” He looked down, seeing his name printed under “Spouse.” Next to it were the patient’s details: Maya Croft, 27 years old, first delivery. His pen tip hovered over the paper, hesitant to descend. “Evelyn, I can really explain.” I didn’t look at him. I pulled the form from his hand, using the pen to tick a box in the family section for him. “No time for explanations. Dilation is almost complete.” As I turned, he reached out to grab me. I sidestepped, and his hand met empty air. Nurses bustled back and forth in the corridor. Family members dozed on benches, clutching thermoses. No one saw him reach out. And no one knew the doctor walking into the delivery room had just encountered her own husband bringing another woman to give birth. I pushed open the delivery room door. The lights inside were bright. A young woman lay on the delivery bed. Round-faced, her bangs plastered to her forehead with sweat, her eyes red, clutching the bedsheet tightly. She saw me enter and offered a nervous smile. “Hello, Doctor. I’m a little scared.” “That’s normal. Relax.” I lowered my head, flipping through her medical chart. 39 weeks and 2 days pregnant, normal fetal position, complete prenatal check-up records. The signature for every single check-up was Henry McCarthy. From week 12 to week 39, not a single one missed. I did the math. She got pregnant about ten months ago. What was I doing ten months ago? I was discussing with Henry whether we should enclose the balcony to plant flowers. He said yes, he’d find someone to do it after his business trip. That balcony was never enclosed. He said he was too busy. Turns out, he was busy accompanying someone else to prenatal check-ups. I closed the chart and walked to the delivery bed. Maya reached out to me. “Doctor, could you please call my husband in? I want him to be with me.” I looked down at her hand. A ring adorned her left ring finger. Platinum, set with small diamonds, with an engraving inside the band. I didn’t need to get closer to know what was engraved. It was my wedding band. Three months ago, Henry said he lost it at the gym, searched for days but couldn’t find it, and promised to buy me a new one. Now it was on another woman’s hand. This woman lay on the delivery bed, calling my husband her husband. Wearing my ring. “Doctor?” Maya watched me cautiously. I withdrew my hand. “Family can’t come into the delivery room for now. He can come in after you’ve given birth.” I offered her a smile. That smile took all my strength. 2 The contractions grew more frequent. Maya’s forehead glistened with sweat, and her lips were bitten raw. But she never screamed, just endured in muffled tones, occasionally whimpering. When the pain became unbearable, she’d clutch the bedsheet, mumbling, “My husband says it’ll be over after I give birth, it’ll be over after I give birth.” I adjusted the fetal heart monitor, not responding to her words. She was probably too nervous and started talking incessantly. Some people curse when they’re in pain, some cry. Maya was the talkative type. “Doctor, my husband is really good to me.” “Mhm.” “He says he’s been waiting for this baby for a long time.” “Mhm.” “He was in a relationship before, it didn’t work out. Then he met me, and he said he knew I was the one for him, forever.” I smoothed the monitor wires, keeping silent. “We’ve been together for almost two years.” Maya added, a hint of pride in her voice. Almost two years. Henry and I got our marriage license exactly two years and three months ago. Overlap. It overlapped from the very beginning. Which meant, he started this soon after we got married. Our honeymoon period wasn’t even over. Maya probably saw my expression was too calm, assuming I wasn’t interested, and changed the subject. “Doctor, are you married?” “Mhm.” “Then your husband must also feel for you. Being a doctor is so tough.” I handed her the straw cup. “Drink some water. You’ll need the strength later.” She took the cup, drank a few sips, and started talking again. “What moves me most about my husband is that he’s willing to start over for me.” “His previous relationship ended badly. He said the other person clung to him for a long time.” “Later, he moved, changed his phone number, and finally found peace.” I heard the words “moved.” My fingers paused for a second. “Where do you live now?” I asked casually, like idle chatter. Maya didn’t think much of it and gave an address. Emerald Lakes, Building 14, Apartment 1602. My pupils constricted. Emerald Lakes, Building 14, Apartment 1602. That was my property. My parents bought it outright before I was married, in my name. Henry and I moved in together after we got married, living there for over a year. Before I left for my fellowship, Henry said his commute was too long, and he wanted to move closer to his company, suggesting I rent out the Emerald Lakes apartment. I agreed. He said he found a tenant for me, three thousand five hundred a month, paid into my account. Three thousand five hundred. He did transfer three thousand five hundred to me every month. It wasn’t the tenant’s money. It was his own money, a pretense. He was living in my apartment, with another woman, spending my money, and pretending to collect rent every month. Maya was still talking. “Our apartment is so nice. He decorated it himself, and he planted so many flowers on the balcony.” The flowers on the balcony. They were jasmine and mint that I had planted before I left. I had watered them for half a year, fertilized them countless times. Now, they were his gift of romance to another woman. “Doctor? You don’t look so good. Are you alright?” “I’m fine.” I adjusted my mask. “The air in the delivery room is stuffy. It’s normal.” Another wave of contractions hit. Maya was too much in pain to speak. She arched her back, panting desperately, her hands gripping the side rails. I looked at her, thinking, You’re living in my apartment, wearing my ring, carrying my husband’s child, and now you’re lying on my delivery bed, asking me to deliver your baby. Maya, do you know how absurd this world can be sometimes? And I am the only one in this entire room who knows the script. 3 The labor progressed faster than expected. Maya’s physical condition was good, the baby’s weight was moderate, and the fetal heart rate remained stable. It was a smooth delivery. As I acknowledged this inwardly, a bitter taste filled my mouth. Profession was profession, personal matters were personal. I stood by the delivery bed, guiding her to breathe, push, breathe, and push again. Maya’s face was streaked with tears and sweat, gritting her teeth, she strained with my rhythm. In between contractions, she kept speaking, brokenly, as if only talking could lessen her fear. “My husband said… he said he’d wait outside all night…” “He also said… if it’s a boy… we’d name him Henry Jr.… meaning ‘peaceful’…” Henry Jr. A nice name. What did Henry say when we discussed names for our future children? He said not to rush, to wait until his career was more stable. Wait until the mortgage was paid off. Wait until he returned from his business trip. Wait until next month. Wait until next year. I waited for two years, and it turns out he wasn’t waiting for the right moment. He was waiting for someone else to get pregnant. “Push, one last time.” I pushed down all other thoughts, fully concentrating as I delivered the baby. A boy. Six pounds, eight ounces. His cry was loud and clear, filling the entire delivery room with his wails. Maya lay exhausted on the bed, her face a mix of tears and sweat, a foolish grin on her lips. “Is it a boy?” “Yes.” “That’s wonderful, he finally has a son.” She emphasized “finally,” as if she had completed some monumental task for Henry. The labor and delivery nurse took the baby for cleaning, while I performed the final stitches. Maya tilted her head, watching the baby, and suddenly said, “Doctor, thank you.” “You’re welcome.” “No, I’m not talking about the delivery.” Her voice was weak but sincere. “My husband had a difficult past. His ex-wife… the woman who clung to him, she got sick and passed away.” My hand, holding the suture needle, paused. “He’s truly a good man with a loyal heart. Every spring, he says he goes to visit her grave, suffering alone.” “Last spring he took me to San Diego, saying he needed a change of scenery, but he was distracted the whole day. He said he didn’t want his ex-wife to be too lonely by herself there.” “So I’m especially grateful to fate for bringing me to him. And thank you, for safely bringing our child into this world.” She smiled through her tears. I looked at her young, unguarded face and suddenly found it absurd. He told this woman I was dead. I was alive and well, working at a hospital three miles away, delivering babies, doing rounds, writing medical charts every day. In his story, I was an ex-wife who had passed away, a dead person used to elicit sympathy. I finished the stitching, removed my gloves. “Rest for a bit. The nurse will bring the baby to you soon.” Maya hummed in acknowledgment and reached out to stop me. “Doctor, wait. Help me look at something.” She struggled to pull a velvet pouch from a small bag beside her pillow, emptying out a jade ring. Verdant green, with an orchid carved into the silver setting. “My husband said this is a family heirloom his grandmother left him. He told me to wear it after I gave birth, to ward off evil. Do you think it’s valuable?” I stared at that ring. Only one in the whole world. My mother wore it for twenty years before she died, taking it off her hand and pressing it into mine as she passed. “My little Jasmine, this is for you. Mom has nothing else to leave you.” I had locked it in my jewelry box at home. Henry had told me six months ago that we had been robbed, that the jewelry box was pried open, and my mother’s jade ring and some gold jewelry were stolen. He had even taken me to the police station to file a report. Now it was on Maya’s hand. Left by his grandmother. To ward off evil for her. “Quite valuable.” I heard my own voice. “Keep it safe.” I walked out of the delivery room. The hallway was empty. I leaned against the wall, pulling out my phone. I opened my banking app, navigating to the joint account with Henry. Balance: $1083.46. I scrolled through the transaction history. One by one. Outgoing, $50,000. Outgoing, $30,000. Outgoing, $80,000. Outgoing, outgoing, outgoing. Each transaction to the same recipient, the memo always blank. Two years, $410,000 transferred out. My hand, clutching the phone, finally began to shake. Not from fear, but my body was breaking down before my mind. 4 I stood in the hallway for about three minutes. Deep breaths, exhale, inhale, exhale. When my hand stopped shaking, I locked my phone and put it back in my pocket. Pushing the door, I returned to the nurse’s station. The duty nurse was filling out newborn records. Seeing me, she called out, “Dr. Evelyn, the family for 1602 has been asking outside if they can come in to see the baby.” 1602. Even their delivery room number was the same as my house number. “Let him in. Mother and baby are fine. Tell him to be careful not to touch the patient’s stitches.” My voice was flat. The nurse gave me an extra glance. “Dr. Evelyn, you look terrible. Do you want to take a break?” “No, I’m just going to the restroom.” One of the light tubes in the restroom was broken, flickering. I leaned over the sink, cold water running through my fingers. The person in the mirror looked unfamiliar. My eyes were red, but I wasn’t crying. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. A strange feeling, my heart empty, as if everything had broken. I pulled out my phone, opening Henry’s chat. The last message was from 11:07 PM last night, from him. “Goodnight, wife. Seattle is boiling, I miss you so much. Go to bed early.” It was accompanied by a photo of a hotel king-sized bed. I took a screenshot, saving it to my album. I scrolled up. Day before yesterday: “Meetings all day, so exhausted. More tomorrow.” Three days ago: “Seattle is so boring. Home is best.” Every message was a lie. Every message typed so smoothly, so naturally. When did it become so effortless for him to lie? I closed the chat. Opened my album, flipping to our joint photos. Last year for Thanksgiving, he took me to San Diego. In the photo, we stood by the ocean, he held me from behind, his eyes crinkling in a smile. I remembered him saying that day, “Evelyn, let’s go somewhere new every year, and when we have kids, we’ll bring them along.” I said yes. Back then, I didn’t know that in his heart, there was only an expiration date for me. I scrolled past our photos. The most recent three months of photos were all from the hospital: fellowship notes, cafeteria meals. No him. Because he wasn’t there. Or rather, he was there. In my apartment, with another woman. Peeling apples for her, taking her to prenatal check-ups, putting his ear to her belly to listen to the baby move. Then at eleven at night, he’d video call me, calling me his wife into the camera. I turned off my phone. Washed my face. Dried it with a tissue, and put on a fresh mask. As I walked out, passing the delivery room door, I heard Maya talking to Henry inside. The door wasn’t fully closed, and voices leaked out. “Honey, look, he looks just like you.” “Mhm, the nose is similar.” “Kiss him.” Henry let out a soft laugh. I stood outside the door for two seconds. Then I walked away. I finished my last two hours on shift. Changed out of my scrubs, picked up my bag, and walked out of the hospital entrance. 8:17 PM. I didn’t take a cab back to my fellowship dorm. I hailed a cab and went to Emerald Lakes. Building 14, Apartment 1602. My apartment. The elevator reached the 16th floor. I walked to apartment 1602. The door had a pink cartoon bear sticker, proclaiming “Happy Home.” I pulled out my key from my bag. The apartment was mine. The lock hadn’t been changed. The key slid in, a turn. The door opened.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “397519”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The air was thick with the lingering scent of us when his friend showed up. Ashton and I had just finished. His buddy, a bottle of bourbon dangling from his fingers, gave me a knowing once-over and let out a low whistle. “Whoa, bad timing? Damn, Ashton, you’re a lucky man.” A hot blush crept up my neck. I mumbled something about needing to buy groceries and fled the apartment. But as the door clicked shut behind me, I heard his friend’s voice, low and conspiratorial. “Seriously, man. Felicity’s coming to town soon. What’s the deal with the girl in your room?” My feet froze to the floor. A long moment passed before I heard Ashton’s voice, casual and laced with a dismissive sneer I’d never heard before. “What’s to think about? She’s just a colleague. A bit of fun, that’s all.” His friend clicked his tongue. “And Felicity?” “Felicity?” He tapped the ash from a cigarette, his voice softening. “She’s different.” 1 At that moment, my mind went completely blank. I’d been chasing him, sometimes subtly, sometimes not, for five years. I thought we were finally, truly together. I was even planning to take him home for Christmas to meet my parents. I’d already figured out which train tickets to book, how I’d introduce him to my relatives, all the charming spots and hidden diners in my hometown I wanted to show him… The beautiful little future I’d built in my head shattered like glass, destroyed by those few careless words. Just a colleague? A bit of fun? The phrases hit me like a bucket of ice water, and I couldn’t move. The conversation inside continued. I peeked through the crack in the door. “By the way, I heard Felicity applied for grad school here. That’s because of you, right?” Ashton chuckled, his eyes softening into something warm and gentle. “Yeah. I had someone look into it for her, she’s pretty much a shoo-in. When she gets here in a few days, I’ll take her to meet her advisor.” “Look at you, pulling out all the stops. A regular knight in shining armor for your little princess.” Felicity. I’d heard her name before. She was Ashton’s childhood neighbor, three or four years younger, still in college. He’d never mentioned any special feelings for her, so I’d always assumed he saw her as a little sister. “Since she’s coming, you should probably clean things up here. Don’t want the kid to see this and get her heart broken.” “You think I don’t know that? I’ve got it handled.” Ashton took a drag from his cigarette, his expression vanishing into a cloud of white smoke. I couldn’t listen anymore. Tears blurring my vision, I stumbled down the stairs and ran. 2 I couldn’t understand it. Just last night, he was whispering “I love you” into my ear in a haze of passion. How could he turn so cold, so fast? Ashton. In my mind, he was brilliant, proud, and a little aloof to the world, but always, always gentle with me. He was a year ahead of me in college, and now we were colleagues at the same massive tech firm. I’d fallen for him the first time I saw him on campus. After graduation, I followed him right to this company. Our workplace even encouraged inter-office dating, so I pursued him openly. At first, he barely gave me the time of day, but slowly, he started to come around. When he finally kissed me, pulling me into his arms, I thought my devotion had finally won his. I never imagined this was how he saw our relationship. “Where’d you go? You’ve been gone forever.” My phone rang. It was Ashton, his voice a low rumble. “Just browsing at the supermarket,” I said, wiping away a tear and forcing my voice to sound steady. “Alright. Well, take your time.” He paused. “Oh, hey, we’re out of the ultra-thins. Grab a box on your way back.” Just as the line went dead, I heard someone in the background chuckle. He’d actually said that to me in front of his friend. Shame and anger washed over me. “Just a bit of fun…” His words echoed in my head, a sharp knife twisting in my heart. God, Ava, you’re so cheap in his eyes. I took a deep, shaky breath and opened my email, finding the transfer offer Sarah from HR had sent a few days ago. The company wanted to promote me to department head and relocate me to the Chicago office next month. My hometown wasn’t far from Chicago. It was a promotion, a raise—a golden opportunity. But for Ashton, I’d turned it down without a second thought. Sarah had pulled me aside for a chat afterward. When she realized I was rejecting the offer because of him, she’d hesitated. “Ava, love is important, but so are you… Just think about it a little more.” Now… Now I finally understood. I quickly typed out a reply: I accept the transfer. 3 I didn’t go back to the apartment I shared with Ashton. I went to my old room in the company dorms instead. When he called that night asking me to come home, I just told him I was swamped with work. Sarah had mentioned that the Chicago position was highly coveted, with several people vying for it, so she advised me to keep it quiet until the New Year. I wasn’t an idiot. If Ashton never considered me his girlfriend, then there was no need for a breakup. Where I was going and what I was doing was none of his business. The end-of-year rush was brutal, though. I had to wrap up all my current projects before the transfer, so I wouldn’t leave a mess for my colleagues. I found myself working until 3 a.m., and I’d only been asleep for a few hours when Ashton’s call jolted me awake. “Ava? What’s the name of that place you get those breakfast burritos and that weird green juice from?” “Huh?” I squinted at my phone. It was only 6:30. Ashton was usually dead to the world at this hour. “You know, the one with the extra crispy hash browns inside… Is it the one on the corner or the food truck downtown?” “The one downtown.” “Got it.” The call ended, but I was wide awake. Sleep was impossible now. Ashton was a night owl who always skipped breakfast. During the years I was trying to win him over, I’d bring him all sorts of things to eat in the morning. He loved the burritos from that specific truck, so I’d often take an early bus across town, a half-hour ride each way, just to get them for him. Was he up early today to buy breakfast… for me? A bitter, hopeful feeling swelled in my chest. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d woken up early for me. Last winter, I came down with a nasty flu and was stuck in my dorm room. I was drifting in and out of a feverish sleep when I heard the doorbell ring, thinking I’d imagined it. Later, I found out he’d gotten up at five, a personal record for him. He’d made me rice porridge from scratch, the kind my mom used to make, then went to the pharmacy for medicine, delivering it all to my door before he had to be at work. He grew up wealthy; he’d never cooked a day in his life. He deliberately handed me the soup and medicine with his left hand, but I still saw the bandages on the index and middle fingers of his right hand, tucked at his side. I can still remember the comforting aroma of that porridge. But today… I waited until 9 a.m., the start of the workday. He never showed. 4 “Ava! Ava, you won’t believe who I saw at the subway station today.” At lunch, Dani sidled up next to me in the cafeteria line. She was my partner on my main project and my best friend at the company. “It was Ashton. He took the day off, did you know?” Dani watched my face carefully. “No, I didn’t,” I said, my voice flat. Usually, I’d wander over to his desk during our breaks, chat for a bit, maybe grab a coffee together. Today, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. “He was with this really sweet-looking girl, heading for the L-train. I bet they were going to Six Flags.” Six Flags? After we’d gotten together, I’d asked him to go with me several times. He always said no. Turns out it wasn’t that he didn’t want to go. He just didn’t want to go with me. “The girl twisted her ankle on the stairs, and he just knelt right down, took off her shoe, and started rubbing her foot. He was blowing on it and everything, looked like he was about to kiss it…” “I snapped a picture. Here, look.” Dani handed me her phone. In the photo, a girl with a delicate, fair-skinned face and exquisite features sat on the steps, dressed in a wool skirt and black stockings. Ashton was kneeling before her, cradling her foot on his knee like it was a priceless treasure. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I understood. The breakfast burrito this morning was for her. Taking the day off was for her. Felicity. She was here. “Look, Ava, don’t think I’m overstepping,” Dani said, “but you’ve been chasing this guy forever, and he’s never given you a straight answer. I always thought he was a player, and today just proves it.” “Now you see him for what he is, right?” My colleagues and his all knew I was pursuing him. But no one knew we’d actually been dating for a while. That was because Ashton had never made it official. I used to think it was just his personality, that he was private and didn’t like public displays. I even found his reserved-in-public, passionate-in-private persona charming. But between yesterday and today, even I couldn’t be that stupid anymore. Dani took her phone back and deleted the picture with a decisive tap. “Jerk. He’s disgusting.” “You need to stop hanging all your hopes on him! You’re gorgeous, Ava. There are plenty of guys in this office who’d kill for a chance with you. In fact, that cute new guy from R&D was just asking me about you…” “Thank you, Dani,” I managed a smile. “But I’m not looking to date right now. I’m…” I told her about the promotion and the transfer. Dani was trustworthy, and since she was my project partner, she deserved a heads-up. “Oh my God, congratulations! Ava! You have to treat me to dinner!” she squealed, throwing her arms around me in a hug. “Deal!” I laughed, prying her off me. I leaned in closer. “I heard from Sarah that they might be expanding the Chicago office even more in the second half of the year. Your department might send someone over…” “That would be amazing! I’d be the first to volunteer!” Dani grinned. “We could go to Navy Pier together!” 5 Two days later, Ashton showed up at my dorm room with a cup of bubble tea. I was on my laptop, trying to finish up some work. “Ava, can you please come home tonight? I can’t sleep when you’re not there.” The warm lamplight softened the lines of his face, making his eyes look deep and sincere. He sounded so loving, so gentle. My gaze fell on the cup on my desk. A coconut matcha latte, my old favorite. In the past, on the rare occasions I’d gotten upset with him, a single cup of this was all it took to soothe my anger. It wasn’t about the drink itself. It was because I was that easy to please. But things are different now, Ashton. “I’m not coming back. I’ll pick up the rest of my stuff in a few days.” I didn’t even look up from my screen. “What’s wrong?” He frowned slightly, then a look of understanding, mixed with a hint of amusement, crossed his face. He leaned over and pulled me into his arms. “I had to take a couple of days off for an emergency. My fault, I forgot to tell you. Is that it? You’re mad because you haven’t seen me for a few days? You’re the one who’s been hiding out here working late.” He buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply, trying to take things further in the privacy of my room. He’d done this before, and I’d mistaken it for love. Now I knew he was just horny. I shoved him away, hard. My arm knocked over the latte on the table. The pale green liquid splashed across the floor, blooming like a sickly flower and filling the air with a cloying sweetness that made my stomach turn. “Ava!” His voice finally sharpened with anger. He grabbed my wrist. “What the hell is your problem? I asked around. Your department is busy, but not this busy. What are you really doing here every night?” He trapped me against the desk, his lean forearms bracketing me. His dark, narrow eyes narrowed menacingly. “Or are you avoiding me to see someone else?” The air went still. My eyes suddenly burned with tears. I had wanted to end things quietly, to just disappear. But I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Ashton, I’m not shameless like you! You’re the one who doesn’t give a damn about me! You’re the one seeing someone else! Felicity! I know she’s here!” Ashton froze, his shock quickly morphing into fury. “How did you know? Are you spying on me?!” “Ava, we’re not married! We just slept together, and you’re already watching my every move… I’m very disappointed in you.” “I’m disappointed too,” I choked out, looking up at him. All the pain I’d bottled up over the last few days burst forth like a flood. This man, the man I had loved for years, had taken my love and forged it into a thousand tiny knives, plunging every single one of them into my heart. Seeing my tears, Ashton’s anger faltered. He fumbled for a tissue, trying to wipe my face. “I’m sorry, that was too harsh. I just mean… Ava, I need my space. You can’t control everything I do…” “I won’t anymore.” I pushed his hand away, wiping my tears on my sleeve, swallowing them down. I’m done with you, Ashton. I heard voices in the hallway; my roommate was coming back. “You should go,” I said, pushing him toward the door. Ashton stood there for a moment, then pressed the crumpled tissue into my hand. “Fine.” “Calm down. We’ll talk on the phone tonight.” 6 My roommate tiptoed around the puddle of latte on the floor, her eyes wide with surprise. “Ava, what happened?” “It’s nothing.” I grabbed a mop and cleaned the floor, scrubbing until it was spotless, as if nothing had ever been spilled. Then I took out my phone, blocked Ashton’s number, and blocked him on every social media app. That evening, my mom called. “Ava, have you and your boyfriend booked your train tickets yet? I cleaned out the guest room today, so he’ll have a place to stay…” I paused, then cut her off. “Mom… we broke up.” Every time I went home for the holidays, the first question from every aunt and uncle was about my relationship status. My parents never pressured me, but I knew they were secretly hoping I’d bring someone home. When my mom had called last week and I asked if I could bring my boyfriend for Christmas, she had been ecstatic. Now, just a few days later, I had to let her down. There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before my mom’s voice returned, as cheerful as ever. “Well, that’s okay! You’re young, these things happen.” “You’ll find someone better when the time is right.” “Ava, just make sure you book your own ticket home soon! I can’t wait to see you…” “Okay,” I whispered, my voice thick with unshed tears. The next day, I took a half-day off and went back to the apartment. I threw my few clothes and makeup into a suitcase. The stuffed animals, the lipstick, the handbag he’d bought me—they all went into a trash bag. Downstairs, I tossed the bag into the dumpster and walked away, pulling my suitcase behind me without a single look back. I wondered if Ashton had noticed I’d blocked him, if he was furious. Or maybe he was too busy with Felicity to even care. Either way, he didn’t contact me again for the next few days. Soon, it was the company’s annual anniversary party. Employees were allowed to bring a plus-one, and the ballroom was filled with spouses and partners. A few of Ashton’s colleagues passed by me, their eyes darting away as they mumbled a hello. “Ava!” Dani called out, nodding toward the front of the room. “Ashton’s here. And he brought her.” I turned. Ashton stood with his back to me at the dessert table, next to Felicity. She took a small bite of a strawberry panna cotta, then playfully fed the rest of it to him. Ashton put on a show of exasperated affection. I remembered how he’d never once touched food I’d already eaten. Even when we shared a bag of chips, we had to have separate bowls. The ballroom was chaotic, with kids running everywhere. As I stood there, lost in thought, a little boy about five or six years old, holding a chocolate ice cream cone, ran straight into my white dress. Before I could even react, he burst into tears. His mother, assuming I was the one who had bullied her precious child, immediately started scolding me. Dani tried to explain, but the woman wouldn’t listen. A crowd of colleagues gathered, but no one knew what had happened, so they just stood there watching. Finally, a guy holding a large camera stepped in front of me. “Ma’am, your son ran into her. I caught the whole thing on video, if you’d like to see?” After reviewing the footage, the mother offered a half-hearted apology and dragged her son away. The guy turned to me and smiled. He had a kind, handsome face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He held out his hand. “Noah. R&D department.” Dani nudged me with her elbow, a teasing glint in her eye. “The cute new guy from R&D.” Noah’s ears turned a little red. I got the hint. “Ava, from Product,” I said, shaking his hand politely. “Thanks for that.” “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” 7 I was still trying to scrub the chocolate stain out of my dress when a call came through from an unknown number. I answered. It was Ashton’s deep voice. “Ava, where are you? Who was that guy?” He’d seen what happened. He didn’t even ask if I was okay. The first thing he asked was who the other guy was. “Ava, stop this childish game! You blocked me, you cleared out your stuff from the apartment, and now you’re putting on a little show with this guy right in front of me?” His voice was strained with disappointment and fatigue. “This is exhausting!” “I only brought Felicity today to introduce her to a few people. She’s leaving in a couple of days. You don’t have to be so petty…” I almost laughed. He actually thought I’d staged the whole thing just to get his attention. “Ashton, I’m not being petty! What are we, anyway? We’re colleagues, remember? Why would I put on a show for you? Frankly, this dress is worth more to me than you are!” I dabbed at the stain again. It was fading, but it wouldn’t come out completely. A shame. It had cost me three hundred dollars. “Fine, Ava. Just fine,” he seethed through the phone. “You…” I didn’t hear the rest. I hung up and blocked his new number. It was all just noise. I didn’t want to hear another word. When I came out of the restroom, Dani and Noah were rushing toward me, both out of breath. Noah was holding a paper bag from a sportswear store. “Ava, this was the best I could do on short notice,” he said. “It’s just a tracksuit, but you can change into it for now.” “Thank you, Dani!” I said, taking the bag. “Don’t thank me! It was his idea, and his money. I just picked the size,” Dani said with a grin, pointing at Noah. The tall, broad-shouldered young man gave me a shy smile.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “397504”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Five years after my death, my doctor husband, Sauron, demanded once again that I take the fall for a medical malpractice suit involving his first love. He burst into my old apartment, clutching a forged agreement, only to find a house thick with dust. In a panic, he grabbed the corner store owner downstairs, questioning my whereabouts. The owner, however, told him: “Chloe Finch? She died five years ago. I heard the family from that malpractice suit, driven by grief, ambushed her in an alley one night and stabbed her over a dozen times.” My husband refused to believe it, convinced the owner had been paid to lie for me. He raised an eyebrow, a cold sneer on his face. “So, just because I suspended her for two years, she’s throwing a tantrum now?!” “Tell her, if she doesn’t show up in three days, I’m stopping her sister’s cancer treatment payments!” With that, he cursed and slammed the door behind him. The owner watched his retreating back, shaking his head with a sigh: “What sister? Her sister died years ago, unable to afford treatment…” … In the hallway, the deadbolt clacked as a key turned. I floated on the ceiling, watching Sauron burst into my old apartment, clutching the forged agreement. He covered his nose, fanning away the dust, his hurried footsteps echoing on the floor. “Chloe Finch, get out here! Eleanor’s about to lose her license, and you’re still hiding?” I chuckled to myself, a bitter sound. After that medical malpractice incident five years ago, Sauron and I had lost touch. I never imagined his next visit would be to demand I take the blame for Eleanor’s new medical error. I couldn’t help but marvel at how deeply connected he and Eleanor still were. Sauron walked through the rooms twice, his gaze sweeping over the dusty sofa and the cobweb-strung window. His mouth twisted into an even sharper sneer. “What are you trying to do, disappear? Where could someone like you, fired from the hospital, possibly hide?” “Eleanor just texted that the police have started their investigation. You want her to go to jail, don’t you?” “I’ll give you ten seconds. Get out here now!” I watched his impatient face, thinking, Five years, and he’s still so entitled. But no matter how many sets of ten seconds he gave me, I wouldn’t obediently appear before him like I used to. Because I was dead. “Chloe Finch! Do you hear me? Why are you being so difficult about helping me out?!” He suddenly turned and kicked the bedroom door, which groaned dully. But it remained empty. Sauron impatiently “tch’ed,” then searched the rest of the apartment fruitlessly. He finally realized there truly was no one there. He muttered to himself, gritting his teeth, and slammed the door shut. The convenience store door downstairs was yanked open. Sauron grabbed the owner, who was scanning items. “Have you seen Chloe Finch? The one on the third floor.” The owner paused, wiping oil from his hands. “Chloe Finch? She died five years ago.” I saw Sauron falter, then sneer. “Who are you trying to scare? How could someone like her die?” “No, really.” The owner pointed toward the alley entrance. “Five years ago, the family from that medical malpractice suit ambushed her in the alley and stabbed her over a dozen times. She died on the way to the hospital. Who are you to her?” The overly fluent answer made a flicker of surprise cross Sauron’s eyes. His brows furrowed, and his expression showed a hint of pain that I didn’t understand. But then, his attention was drawn by a message on his phone—it was from Eleanor: “Forget it, Sauron. I’m sure Chloe still resents me and will make excuses. Don’t trouble yourself for me, I’ll just go to jail. Without me, you must take care of yourself.” That single message was enough for Sauron to conclude that my death was merely an excuse to refuse them. His fingers trembled as he replied: “What right does she have to refuse? I gave her a huge sum of money back then; when I need her, she has to show up!” “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely drag her back to take the blame. I won’t let anything happen to you!” The “message sent” notification popped up. Sauron looked up, glaring at the owner. “Don’t play this game with me! She’s definitely hiding. Did she pay you?” The owner sighed. “Young man, is this something to joke about? It was in the news back then…” “News reports are always true?” Sauron unconsciously raised his voice. He took a step closer, his eyes full of menace. “Tell her, if she doesn’t show up in three days, I’m stopping her sister’s cancer treatment payments!” The owner opened his mouth, about to say something, but Sauron sharply waved him off. “Don’t waste my time! Either she comes out, or she waits to claim her sister’s body!” With that, Sauron turned and left. The convenience store door slammed shut with a bang. The owner watched his retreating back, shaking his head, and sighed to the empty air: “What sister? Her sister died years ago, unable to afford treatment…” I floated nearby, looking at the water bottle kicked aside on the ground. My soul felt as if it were soaked in that icy liquid. That money never reached my hands. When my sister lay in her hospital bed, waiting for money to save her life, Eleanor was using it to buy imported medical equipment. And when I was stabbed and left to die in that alley, he was accompanying Eleanor at a medical seminar. Now, he was threatening a long-dead person, in the name of another long-dead person. My soul seemed trapped beside Sauron, forced to follow him home. The moment he pushed open the door, Eleanor rushed to meet him, her face alight with anticipation. “Sauron, well? Did you find Chloe Finch?” Sauron shook his head, his expression a little dazed. “No… And, they said Chloe Finch is dead?” “Dead?!” Eleanor’s eyes widened abruptly. She stumbled back half a step, her hand instinctively grabbing Sauron’s arm. “How is that possible? Is she… is she deliberately hiding from us, making that up to fool you?” Sauron frowned, saying nothing. Seeing his expression, Eleanor quickly forced a bitter smile. “It must be! Chloe must still resent what happened five years ago and doesn’t want to help me, so she made up such a lie.” “Sauron, how about… we just drop it? Don’t trouble her anymore. At worst, I’ll just turn myself in…” Sauron was silent for a while, finally nodding. “You’re right, she must be hiding.” “But this can’t just be dropped. Even if I have to dig three feet deep, I will find her and get you exonerated!” Eleanor’s eyes reddened with emotion, her voice choked. “Sauron, you’re so good to me…” “However…” Sauron suddenly cut her off, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “Chloe Finch can come up with such an excuse; it seems she’s genuinely furious.” “Eleanor, this is the last time. Once she takes the fall for you and gets out of jail, let’s end things.” I stood by, so shocked I almost forgot I was dead. Sauron actually suggested breaking up with Eleanor? I remembered how he had fought with me fiercely for this woman, turning our world upside down. We had been married for less than a year when Eleanor returned to the country, even specifically transferring to our hospital. From then on, the two of them carried on an open affair right under my nose. If I so much as questioned it, he’d accuse me of being narrow-minded and paranoid. Yet now, he was actually proposing to end the relationship? Sauron didn’t notice the stiff expression on Eleanor’s face. He turned his head away, his voice softer. “I need to return to my family, eventually. I did give her money last time, but these past few years, I’ve truly neglected her.” “Honestly, deep down… I feel quite guilty.” Eleanor looked at him in disbelief. “Sauron… are you leaving me?” “I don’t know,” Sauron evaded her gaze, his brow furrowing even deeper. “Ever since I left Chloe’s apartment, I’ve felt a constant unease, like something terrible is about to happen.” He paused, his voice firming up again. “But I will definitely help you with this! I won’t stand by and watch you go to jail. I’m going to find her now. You wait for me.” With that, he turned and left, his back conveying a sense of determination and finality. Eleanor remained still. But when she looked at him, her pitiful expression was completely gone. I clearly saw her eyes, like venom-tipped blades, sinister and vicious. And the name she ground out through gritted teeth was mine. Sauron was desperate to find me, so the first place he thought of was my sister. I followed his car straight to the city hospital. This road was all too familiar to me, for before, my life had been a straight line between the hospital and home. So many years, never changing. I watched Sauron press the accelerator to the floor, his brow remaining furrowed since he got in the car. It was clear he was still fretting over Eleanor’s situation. He didn’t even bother to properly park the car, rushing into the inpatient ward and grabbing a nurse at the station. “Can you check the room number for Hazel Finch?” “…Oh, okay.” The nurse responded blankly, then began to search through records. Unexpectedly, a cold sneer suddenly echoed from nearby. “Well, well, if it isn’t Dr. Sauron, himself? What brings you to our humble little place?” Sauron turned, his face instantly darkening. It was Dr. Thorne, a chief physician who used to be in the same department as him. As far as I knew, the two had been at odds for a long time. But later, for some unknown reason, after my medical malpractice incident, Thorne had also resigned and left. Now, enemies meeting, their eyes were red with animosity. Sauron scrutinized him, responding testily, “Where I am? What’s it to you?” Thorne crossed his arms, a mocking smile on his lips. “It’s nothing to me, truly. Just curious, how can you be so cold-blooded?” “You didn’t come when they were critically ill, but now that they’re gone, you suddenly decide to look for them?” “Critically ill?” Sauron frowned deeply. “Who was critically ill?” Sauron looked completely bewildered, as if he didn’t understand. But I knew Thorne was talking about my sister and me. Back then, I was stabbed multiple times in the alley, already on the verge of death in the ambulance. They called Sauron, hoping he, as family, would come to see me one last time. But he was with Eleanor, not wanting to disturb their private time, so he hung up without even answering. When they called again later, his number was already blacklisted. My sister, too. Back then, Hazel was given a critical condition notice because she couldn’t afford treatment. When I tried to contact him, he was enjoying a carefree trip with Eleanor. As a result, my sister passed away utterly alone, with no one by her side. Watching Sauron’s bewildered expression, Thorne stared for a few seconds, then suddenly scoffed. “You’re quite the actor. Never mind, I truly don’t know what’s so good about you, to be worth so much to her.” Thorne didn’t say much more, leaving only that cryptic remark before returning to his office. Sauron stood there, his fingers slowly, unconsciously clenching into fists. This was a small gesture he made when he was nervous or afraid. But… what was he afraid of? “Dr. Sauron?” The nurse’s voice pulled him back to reality. “The patient you’re looking for…” She hesitated, then continued, “Hazel Finch, she passed away three years ago.” Sauron’s pupils constricted sharply at those words. He stood frozen, as if nailed to the spot. “What did you say? Hazel Finch is dead? Three years ago?” The nurse nodded timidly. “The system recorded it as spring, three years ago, advanced lung cancer with complications…” “Impossible! This is impossible!” Sauron suddenly lost control, banging on the nurse’s station, drawing stares from surrounding patients. But he quickly forced himself to calm down. As a fellow medical professional, he knew the hospital’s archive system couldn’t be wrong, let alone tampered with. He gripped the nurse’s wrist tightly, his voice trembling. “How could this happen? Isn’t your oncology department the best here? How could she die? And…” He suddenly remembered something, his face growing even paler. “And, I deposit money into that card every month. Eleanor just told me last week that Hazel was doing very well, all her indicators were improving…” The nurse winced at his tight grip but quickly pulled up the system records. “Dr. Sauron, that bank card was unlinked three years ago. And according to the medical records, the patient’s condition was consistently very grim, never improving.” “During the patient’s hospitalization, most of the time she used affordable alternative medications. Because a lady came several times, saying she wanted to save money, and swapped out the imported medications prescribed by the doctor.” “Later, she even completely stopped all medical payments…” Every word from the nurse was like a knife, savagely twisting in my heart. That venomous woman, Eleanor! She knew that was Hazel’s life-saving money, yet she still had the gall to take it! Sauron, upon hearing the nurse’s words, also began to tremble. Of course, he knew who did it. After all, besides Eleanor, no one would be so audacious as to touch his money. I imagine he also recalled the condition I made five years ago when I took the fall for Eleanor—to take good care of my sister. At the time, he had promised faithfully, but the result… Sauron clutched his head, crouching down, his shoulders shaking violently. “How could she… she promised me she would take good care of Hazel!” “How could she do this…” I watched Sauron in his shattered state, feeling not an ounce of sympathy. If not for his indulgence and tacit approval, how would Eleanor have dared to do such a thing? Ultimately, they were two of a kind. Suddenly, Sauron stood up abruptly, a flash of ruthlessness in his eyes. He pulled out his phone, his fingers trembling so much he could barely dial the number. “Detective Miller, I need you to find someone for me.” I vaguely heard a man on the other end of the phone ask who he was looking for. Sauron spoke calmly, “Chloe Finch. Find out where she is now; I need to see her immediately.” “Chloe Finch? Is there a new breakthrough in Miss Eleanor’s case, and you need to find her urgently?” “No.” Sauron’s hand gripped the steering wheel tighter. After a long pause, he finally whispered, “I just want to apologize to her…” The car suddenly shot forward, tires screeching against the asphalt. I floated in the passenger seat, watching Sauron’s tense profile. Sunlight streamed through the car window onto his face, revealing fine lines at the corners of his eyes. So, after five years, no one remained unchanged. But he didn’t know that the person he wished to apologize to had died in a pool of blood in an alley five years ago on a rainy night. What he owed me, what he owed Hazel, could never be repaid in this lifetime. Returning from the hospital, Sauron practically broke into the house. Eleanor, on the sofa, immediately put on her innocent expression when she saw him. “Sauron, why are you back? Did you find Chloe Finch?” Sauron completely ignored her question, simply throwing his jacket onto the coffee table. “Eleanor, what exactly happened with Hazel Finch?” Eleanor’s hand, holding a teacup, paused. Her brow furrowed. “Hazel? Isn’t she fine? I deposit money for her every month.” “Fine?” Sauron scoffed, pulling out his phone and showing her the death certificate photo the nurse had sent him. “She died three years ago! You swapped her medication and unlinked the bank card. Do you dare say you didn’t know?” The date on the photo was clear. Eleanor’s face instantly paled. She set down her teacup, wringing her hands as she explained. “This… Sauron, let me explain. I had no choice at the time!” “Research funding was tight then. I thought I’d just borrow some, and pay it back once the project progressed…” “Borrow some? You say it so easily!” Sauron took a step closer, his eyes red-rimmed. “That was Chloe Finch’s only sister! Her only condition for taking the blame for you back then was for us to take good care of Hazel! How could you do this?!” Seeing Sauron truly enraged, Eleanor suddenly dropped to her knees with a thud. “I know I was wrong, Sauron! Please forgive me! When I wanted to pay the money back later, I couldn’t find anyone… I was just confused for a moment!” Watching her feigned remorse, I only felt revulsion. When she was using my scapegoat money to buy imported equipment, I didn’t see a shred of guilt in her. The two remained at an impasse. Eventually, Sauron was the first to sigh, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Forget it, get up. I’m also at fault in this; I shouldn’t have given you all the money and not supervised Hazel’s treatment.” Eleanor’s eyes brightened, thinking he had forgiven her. But just as she was about to speak, Sauron cut her off. When I looked up, I saw a clear look of disappointment in his eyes. “Eleanor, I’ll help you resolve the medical malpractice issue, but once this is over, we’re through.” “I already owe Chloe Finch too much; I can’t wrong her anymore.” “Sauron!” Eleanor suddenly looked up, her face filled with panic. But Sauron didn’t look at her again, turning to leave. As he walked halfway, he suddenly stopped—his jacket was still on the coffee table. He sighed, turning back. But as he reached the hallway, he heard Eleanor’s hushed voice from the bedroom, chillingly vicious. “…We must find Chloe Finch immediately, and somehow, we have to kill her!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “397520”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In my previous life, I spent thirty loving years with my husband, Marcus. When I turned fifty, he suddenly confessed that he had fallen in love with one of his students. I thought it was just a moment of foolishness, so I refused to sign the divorce papers no matter what. When the student failed to take my place, she left the country and soon news came of her marriage. On her wedding day, Marcus was so distraught that he got into a car accident and became disabled. I took care of him at his bedside for fifteen years. Before he died, he grabbed my hand, his voice trembling: “The biggest regret of my life was marrying you. If there’s a next life, I’ll be braver…” Our children blamed their father’s death entirely on me. Later, I became paralyzed too. One was a company CEO, the other an elite returnee from abroad, yet they dumped me in the cheapest nursing home. After I died, they casually scattered my ashes in a filthy ditch, looking relieved: “If it weren’t for you, Dad and Maria would have found happiness long ago. You vicious woman, you never deserved a good ending!” When I woke up again, I had returned to the day Marcus confessed to me.

I started preparing ingredients at six in the morning. I spent the entire day trapped in the kitchen, so exhausted my back was killing me. Marcus was either handling work in his study or tending to his snake plants on the balcony. Ryan, my son, arrived first, carrying a box of premium tea and ten packs of cigarettes. Then he handed me a plastic bag containing some blackened, rotten fruit. “Bought these before New Year’s. Judy said they couldn’t finish them, so she told me to bring them to you.” He said this with a smile, as if he saw nothing wrong with it at all. I said nothing and took the fruit into the kitchen. Soon after, my daughter Lester arrived too. The fish was simmering in the kitchen, and afternoon sunlight flooded the living room. My children sat around their father, chatting about everyday life. In this harmonious scene, I alone felt like an outsider. Soon, the food was served. Ryan raised his glass first: “Dad, I want to toast you! If you hadn’t set such an example, my career wouldn’t be where it is today. You’re not just my father—you’re my greatest mentor!” Lester stood up too. “Dad, without you, our family wouldn’t have the life we have now. I toast you as well.” After emptying their glasses, Lester took a bite of food and frowned. “Mom, the food is too salty.” They all seemed to have forgotten that today was supposed to be my fiftieth birthday celebration. “I have something to say too.” Marcus drained his third glass and set it down heavily on the table, as if he’d made up his mind about something. “Marta, there’s something I have to confess. I’ve fallen for someone else—one of my students.” “We’ve been together for quite some time now. She’s young and insecure. I want to… give her a proper status.” I gripped my fork tightly. Before I could speak, Ryan said excitedly: “Dad, you finally said it! Honestly, not everyone has that kind of courage. No matter what, I support you!” Lester applauded. “Congratulations on your second spring! Come on, let’s toast to this love that transcends age and convention!” The three of them raised their glasses together while I sat in silence, like an outsider. “Mom, you’re killing the mood!” “Yeah, Dad found true love. Shouldn’t you be happy for him?” Their eyes held reproach, as if looking at a petulant child. I stared at the dishes growing cold on the table and suddenly laughed bitterly. Then I pulled a wrinkled divorce agreement from my pocket. “Fine. I’ll give you what you want.”

The air fell into an eerie silence. Marcus hadn’t expected me to agree so readily. His voice couldn’t hide his excitement: “Marta, you’re really willing?” I pushed the agreement toward him, my action serving as my answer. My calmness seemed to unsettle all three of them. Marcus picked up the paper and carefully smoothed it out. I could tell he was satisfied with the property division. Our current house was my premarital property. I was giving up all marital assets. We’d split the savings in half. I had my pension anyway, so I wouldn’t worry about my future. Mainly, I just didn’t want to argue with him anymore. Marcus was about to sign when he noticed my name already there. His pen paused for a moment. Then he quickly scrawled his own name, as if afraid I’d change my mind if he waited even a second longer. Only then did Ryan stand up and pour me my first glass of wine that day. “Mom, that’s more like it. You should look on the bright side. Dad has the right to pursue happiness too.” Lester pestered her father about when they could invite Maria over for dinner. “Maria loves lobster. Make sure you buy several, and remember to pick the fat ones…” I interrupted expressionlessly: “It’s getting late. You should all leave.” I said “you all.” Ryan’s hand froze mid-reach for the food. Lester’s smile instantly stiffened. After the three left, I took out a bottle of Marcus’s treasured wine. I poured myself a glass and drank it down with the table full of dishes. I didn’t feel like cleaning up the table, so I just left it. I went back to my bedroom and lay down. Without the thunderous snoring, without someone constantly getting up during the night, I slept exceptionally well. The next morning, I slept until I woke naturally, then changed into workout clothes and exercised in the park for a while. When I got back, I slowly tidied up, toasted some bread, fried two eggs, and made myself coffee. In my previous life, I had to get up at five every morning to feed bedridden Marcus, change his diapers, bathe him, give him massages… Before I could take a single bite, I’d have to pick up my grandson from school, then go to Lester’s bachelor apartment to clean and cook. In the evening, I’d go home and repeat the whole morning routine. Day after day, with no end in sight. I hadn’t experienced such a leisurely morning in so long. I opened the closet and packed all of Marcus’s things into boxes. After I finished, only a few old, outdated clothes remained in the closet. In my previous life, just because Marcus said: “Marta, I’m a professor. I need to set an example for my students. We must live modestly.” I wore the same down jacket for fifteen years, the same pair of jeans for eight years. But when that student Maria got engaged, he casually gave her $888,000 as a gift. After leaving the package station, I went straight to the mall. For the rest of my days, I didn’t want to shortchange myself anymore. I didn’t expect to run into Maria there, with Ryan and Lester by her side. When they saw me, their smiles stiffened and embarrassment flickered across their faces. But Maria spoke first: “Marta, long time no see. Are you here alone?” “Look at these two kids. I said they didn’t need to come, but they insisted.” “Ryan really splurged on this trip.” I looked at the designer shopping bags Ryan was carrying. Thinking of that bag of rotten fruit, I felt nothing but bitter irony. Maria walked over and took the dress I’d been looking at. “This color suits me perfectly. How much is it? I’ll take it!” “I saw it first,” I said, suppressing my anger. “Mom, such a beautiful dress is wasted on you. Just let Maria have it!” Ryan immediately said. “Exactly. At your age, wearing a dress like this—have you no shame?” Lester’s words were even more cutting than Ryan’s. Maria pretended to mediate: “Don’t say that. Everyone loves beauty. I just think this dress doesn’t suit you. Shop assistant, please wrap it up for me!” “Wait,” I called out. My husband—she could have him. My two children—I could give them up too. But this dress represented my rebirth and transformation. I just didn’t want to let her have it. But just as I was about to pay, Lester suddenly ran over and pushed me. I lost my balance and crashed into a rack of clothes behind me. I’d had surgery on my back before, and now a searing pain shot through it. Ryan took the opportunity to pay for Maria first. He turned around, saw me on the ground, and though a trace of reluctance crossed his eyes, he still said: “Mom, don’t blame us. Who told you to be so foolish as to compete with Maria?” With that, they surrounded Maria and left. In the end, the shop assistant helped me up and asked with concern if I needed to go to the hospital. I saw the panic in her eyes and reassured her I was fine.

Walking out of the mall, I saw the three of them waiting for a car. When they spotted me, Ryan and Lester immediately moved to shield Maria behind them. I ignored them and walked to the curb to hail a taxi. “Marta, Ryan called a driver. Why don’t we all ride together?” Maria invited with a smile. “No need.” “Don’t be so polite…” Maria pretended to pull me along, but leaned close to my ear and whispered: “Did you know? Your children have been calling me Mom for a while now.” “You’re such a failure. Can’t keep your husband, and your children don’t even want you. If I were you, I’d be too ashamed to live.” I looked at that young, delicate face and couldn’t help but raise my hand. Back then, I pitied her poor family situation. I often invited her to eat at our house and privately gave her money. I never imagined she’d repay kindness with betrayal. Now she was even flaunting it in my face. Before my hand could fall, Ryan grabbed it viciously, his grip nearly crushing my bones. “You crazy woman, I knew you had bad intentions!” “Ryan, do you know what she just said to me?” I straightened my back and looked him in the eyes. “She said you’ve both been calling her Mom, and she called me a failure!” My son froze, his expression flickering with complexity. After a long moment, he said coldly: “Was she wrong?” I looked at him in disbelief. “Maria isn’t just young and beautiful—she’s a PhD. You’re nothing but a maid who can only wash clothes and cook. You’re not worthy of being our mother!” Even though I’d completely lost hope in them, when Ryan spoke his true feelings so plainly, my heart still felt like it had been punched. Just then, an out-of-control truck came swaying toward us. In that critical moment, maternal instinct kicked in. I reflexively tried to push Ryan out of the way. But the siblings rushed toward Maria instead, even pushing me hard into the road because they thought I was in the way. The moment I hit the ground, I heard panicked voices: “Mom—” As my consciousness faded, past memories gradually surfaced in my mind. Shortly after giving birth, my husband moved to the study under the pretext of needing to prepare lectures. Back then, he was just an ordinary lecturer. To become an associate professor as quickly as possible, he’d lock himself in the study the moment he got home, barely coming out except to eat and use the bathroom. My mother-in-law Rose had poor health and couldn’t help, so I had to quit my rising career and raise our two children alone. Ryan was mischievous as a child. He got into a fight and nearly blinded another student. To beg for mercy on his behalf, I knelt before the injured student’s parents and kowtowed in apology. As a mother myself, I understood their anger. So when they came at me to beat me, I just knelt there and let them vent. I broke three ribs that way, one nearly piercing my internal organs. But it kept them from pressing charges against Ryan, saving his academic future. Lester had congenital kidney dysfunction. When she was twelve, the doctor suggested a transplant. When Marcus heard, he turned and left, saying it wasn’t worth it for a girl. Without hesitation, I donated my own kidney to her. When they were young, both children were very dependent on me. But at some point, their hearts gradually shifted toward Marcus and his successful career. Though it hurt, I never blamed them. Until one day, I accidentally overheard them talking with Marcus. “Dad, you’ve worked so hard, putting up with that freeloader Mom all these years. If it were me, I couldn’t have stood it.” “Dad, you deserve better. If you want a divorce, Ryan and I will fully support you.” “I wouldn’t recommend divorce though. Without her, who would take care of Dad so wholeheartedly? Besides, maids aren’t cheap these days…” At that moment, my hands and feet went cold, a chill rising from the depths of my heart. So to them, after raising them with such sacrifice, willing to give up everything for them—I was nothing but a free maid.

When I woke up again, I was in the hospital. A young nurse was changing my bandages while complaining: “Those two are really filial. Their mom’s hurt this badly, but they insisted the doctor treat that young woman first, and she just had a few scratches.” “Honestly, if I had children like that, I’d have cut ties with them long ago. What trash…” Seeing I was awake, another nurse quickly nudged her. The speaking nurse’s face went pale as she apologized profusely. But I smiled weakly. “It’s okay. You’re not wrong.” She froze in surprise. Many things were clearer to outsiders than to me. A week later, I checked myself out of the hospital. As I was about to hail a taxi, I suddenly received a call from Ryan. His voice was angry: “Mom, Judy told me you haven’t picked up Bobby for a whole week.” “Judy has work too. The household is falling apart, and you’re the only one out there slacking off. Have you no shame?” “I’m giving you two hours. If you’re not back, there will be consequences!” He hung up. Then Lester’s message popped up: [Mom, how long are you going to keep slacking off? My apartment’s a pigsty now! Come clean it up right away. And I want porridge!] Taxis were hard to get at the hospital entrance. Standing in the cold wind, I hesitated for a moment, then dialed that number. The call connected quickly. A man’s voice, somewhat aged but tinged with excitement, came through: “Marta, I’ve been waiting for this call for so long.” My nose tingled. “Alex, I’ve made up my mind. Come pick me up.” “Alright. Send me the address.” Minutes later, a luxury car pulled up in front of me… A uniformed driver got out and personally opened the door for me. Inside sat a familiar yet unfamiliar face. Looking at him, I couldn’t help choking up: “Alex…” “It’s okay.” He patted my hand, his voice low. “Now that you’ve made your decision, you can’t soften your heart anymore.” I nodded. “I won’t.” Never again.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “373610”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn

On New Year’s Day, my tenant Terry suddenly sent me a TikTok video. The title was “New Year’s Landlord Rent Reduction Contest.” I was about to tell him that next month’s rent would be completely waived when he sent another message: “Did you fucking see my message or not? Just so you know, I’m only paying a hundred next month!” Seeing his terrible attitude, I angrily replied: “You don’t need to pay next month’s rent. Just get out this month.” That evening when my wife Chloe came home, she brought Terry with her. His arm was intimately wrapped around Chloe’s slim waist. “If you won’t rent the house to me, then I’ll just have to move into your place.” The atmosphere instantly became awkward. The door behind them was still open, with luggage blocking the entrance completely. I looked at Chloe. “What’s the meaning of this?” She leaned against Terry, arms crossed, and immediately started interrogating me. “What right do you have to refuse to rent the house to Terry?” I laughed coldly. “What right?” “That house normally rents for twenty thousand. I only charged him two hundred out of consideration for you. And he still wanted to haggle!” Houses in that neighborhood were extremely popular and had no shortage of renters. Back then, I had already found a tenant and signed the contract, but Chloe came up and tore up the contract on the spot, breaking the agreement. “I have a friend coming to Brooklyn. We grew up together.” “Save this house for him.” “Just charge him two hundred a month for rent to make it look good. Don’t make things difficult for me.” She threw out a few sentences and left in a huff, leaving me and the prospective tenant staring at each other awkwardly. In the end, I had to apologize profusely with a forced smile, compensating them with two months’ rent before the matter was finally settled. Chloe frowned at my words. “Alexander, when did you become so petty?” “I was planning not to charge anything at all. To make you feel better, I specifically had Terry give you two hundred every month. What more do you want?” A house with an annual rent of two hundred forty thousand became an annual rent of two thousand four hundred, and Chloe still thought I was stingy. I suddenly had nothing to say. Moreover, the things she took from our home to give Terry every month were worth far more than two hundred. Holiday gifts from her company, shopping cards from my company, even the fruits and home-cooked meals my mom sometimes brought over—she would pack everything up and take it to Terry. The New Year’s clothes I bought online yesterday—I never even saw them before she eagerly grabbed them and left. “Terry’s all alone in this city. It’s not easy. We should help him as much as we can.” “You’re a grown man. Don’t be so petty.” “We’re all from the same hometown. If I don’t help him out, people back home will gossip about me.” For the sake of Chloe’s reputation, I had endured it all before. But today, Terry’s arrogant attitude completely ignited the anger I’d been suppressing for so long. My attitude remained cold and hard. “Move in? Impossible.” “In this house, it’s either me or him. It can’t be both!” Seeing this, Terry tugged at Chloe’s sleeve with a wronged expression. “Chloe, I should just leave. Worst case, I’ll find some random place to stay tonight.” Fake sympathy. It made me sick. “Leave? Why should you leave!” Chloe pushed me aside forcefully and led him straight to the guest room. Though Terry kept his head down, the smugness in his eyes as he passed me was impossible to hide. After settling him in, she finally came over to me. “Stop making a fuss. It’s just for one night.” “Tomorrow I’ll take him to look at other places.” “You wouldn’t let him live in the south side place, and Terry obediently didn’t insist. Did I say anything about that?” I clenched my fist, opened my mouth, but ultimately said nothing, telling myself to endure it for just one more night. The next morning, I received a call from the property management.

“Is this Mr. Alexander?” My heart suddenly lurched. “Yes, it’s me.” “Could you please come over? Your house seems to be leaking and has flooded the downstairs residents.” “We can’t reach your tenant and have no way to open the door.” That completely woke me up. I hastily got dressed and rushed to the rental property. A crowd had already gathered at the door. Seeing me, someone angrily approached. “You’re the landlord here, right?” I nodded. “What’s going on with your place? My ceiling started leaking last night, and this morning when I woke up, there was a layer of water on my floor!” “We knocked but no one opened! We called out but no one answered!” I quickly took out my key and opened the door. As soon as I pushed it open, a foul stench hit me in the face. I couldn’t help but bend over and dry heave several times. The onlookers outside also covered their noses. “What’s going on here?” “How did they trash the place this badly?” The bright floor was covered with garbage mixed with unknown stains, floating on the water’s surface. There wasn’t even a place to step. The walls were painted over with black paint, and even the bedroom bed was piled high with takeout boxes. Grease had soaked through the mattress, giving off a nauseating smell. I followed the sound to the bathroom and found the sink faucet turned to maximum, water gushing out. Seeing all this, the downstairs residents’ faces darkened. It was obvious this accident was deliberately caused by someone. She waved her hand in front of her nose, her brow tightly furrowed. “Alexander, next time you rent out the house, you need to screen tenants more carefully.” “Your tenant kept making noise late at night. My husband has a bad heart and often couldn’t sleep.” “Property management reminded him several times, and we talked to him too. Who knew he not only wouldn’t listen but got even worse!” Several other households chimed in, their faces showing disgust, clearly having suffered greatly. Someone lowered their voice. “You should disinfect this house. I’ve seen that young man bring different people home. Who knows if he has any diseases!” I nodded, suppressing my anger. No wonder Terry had moved out without a second word—he’d left me such a huge mess. The downstairs resident grabbed my arm. “You have to compensate us for our losses!” I nodded repeatedly in agreement, having already cursed Terry a thousand times in my mind. After settling the compensation with the downstairs residents and contacting someone to handle the house, I called Chloe. The phone rang for a long time before going to voicemail. I called Terry’s number, but again, no one answered. The fire in my heart burned hotter and hotter. I drove straight home. Standing at the door, I could hear chaotic noise inside, as noisy as if there were a flock of ducks. I forcefully pulled open the door, and everyone inside instantly looked up at me. The originally tidy living room looked like a typhoon had hit it, utterly chaotic. Several burlap sacks were piled on the floor, muddy water seeping out from them, tracked into messy footprints. Besides Chloe and Terry, there were several people I didn’t recognize. “Who are you?” An old woman with her hands on her hips demanded, eyebrows raised, face full of aggression, saliva spraying onto my face. “Is there no law anymore? How dare you barge into someone else’s house in broad daylight?” “Terry, hurry up and throw him out!” A huge sense of absurdity washed over me. I ignored Chloe’s winking signals and said coldly. “This is my home. Who are you?” “If you don’t get out now, don’t blame me for calling the police.”

“Alexander!” Chloe shouted coldly, her voice so loud it completely drowned out mine. She grabbed my arm and yanked me outside, closing the door partway so the people inside couldn’t hear us. “Terry’s parents came today. To put their minds at ease, I told them this house was bought by Terry with his own money.” “Watch what you say. Don’t let it slip!” I forcefully shook off her arm. “When did my house become his?” “Yesterday you clearly said he’d only stay one night, but now look—the whole family’s moved in!” “And the house he was living in before…” Before I could finish, a domineering voice interrupted. “Chloe, who’s this? You know him?” It was Terry’s mother. She leaned against the door, eyes narrowed, looking me up and down. Chloe pulled me behind her, her hand viciously pinching the flesh on my arm. I couldn’t help but hiss in pain. “This is my husband, Alexander.” “He heard you were coming today and came specially to see you.” I started to say something but Chloe immediately covered my mouth. Terry’s mother looked at my empty hands with complete disdain on her face. “Coming without bringing anything, empty-handed. No manners.” “Chloe, I’m not criticizing you, but if you’d chosen our Terry back then, you’d be living in a big house by now.” I struggled hard to break free from Chloe’s grip and immediately shouted. “This is MY house. All of you get out now!” “What!” Terry’s mother’s eyes widened instantly. “Pfft!” She spat viciously at me and pushed hard on my chest. “Did you fall and hit your head walking around without watching? What kind of poor wretch is so eager to claim a house?” “Terry said this is the house he worked hard to buy. You think I’m stupid?” “Right, Chloe?” Chloe stood behind her and glared at me angrily, her tone full of disappointment. “Alexander, stop making a scene. No matter how much you want a house, you can’t steal someone else’s.” “Go home. Stop embarrassing yourself here!” Chloe’s protective words slapped me in the face like repeated blows. “Mom, Chloe, come eat.” Terry suddenly appeared at the door. Wearing my pajamas, holding a spatula, he looked exactly like the master of the house. Seeing me, his face didn’t even flash a hint of guilt. “Alexander, you’re here too. Perfect. Come in and eat with us.” I laughed coldly, thinking Terry’s face was thicker than a city wall. Knowing it was useless to argue with these people, I took out my phone. Just as I pressed 9-1, my phone was slapped away by a strong force. The screen landed face-down and bounced a few times, instantly covered with spider-web cracks, though the screen was still lit. I bent down to pick it up, but Chloe stepped hard on the back of my hand and ground her foot. Glass shards embedded into my palm, and a sharp pain instantly shot through me. “Ah!” I cried out in pain, veins bulging on my neck.

“Chloe!” I stared at her with reddened eyes. She snorted coldly and kicked the phone far away. After multiple impacts, the screen went completely black and was utterly unusable. Only then did Chloe lift her foot off my hand. She crouched down and lowered her voice in my ear. “It’s not like we’re not giving the house back to you.” “Just go find some random place to stay for now. In a couple days when they leave, I’ll let you know to come back.” I never thought she would go this far for Terry, completely disregarding our marriage. Terry’s mother took the opportunity to kick me while I was down. “Chloe, this man has no money and no looks.” “Why don’t you divorce him and be with Terry? I won’t mind.” As she spoke, she took Chloe’s hand and placed it gently in Terry’s right in front of me. Terry laughed and pushed his mother playfully. Chloe blushed but didn’t refuse. Blood from my hand dripped onto the floor drop by drop, but Chloe never gave me a single glance. I took a deep breath, my heart already completely dead. “Chloe, let’s get divorced.” Hearing this, she finally reacted, but her first words were still blame. “Alexander, don’t be childish. I was just joking around.” “You’re a grown man. Why make such a big deal of this?” “Terry’s relatives are all here today. Don’t spoil the mood!” Her eyes held disgust and disdain, but not a trace of love. Smugness flashed in Terry’s eyes as he reached out to pull Chloe by the waist, ushering the two of them back inside. “Forget about him. Let’s go eat.” “Chloe, I made your favorite dish. You have to try it later.” Hearing this, Chloe smiled and helped Terry’s mother back into the house. The door slammed shut in my face, completely shutting me out. Laughter and cheerful voices came from inside. “Who was that outside?” “Some unimportant person. Don’t worry about him.” “Everyone eat and drink as you like. Make yourselves at home. Don’t be shy!” How ridiculous. It was my house, yet now I was being shut out by a group of strangers. I clenched my fist, turned around, and knocked on my neighbor’s door. It opened quickly. The neighbor looked at me in surprise. “Alexander, what happened to you?” I smiled bitterly. “Can I borrow your phone to call the police?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “373611”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance

At the class reunion, our former teacher, Mr. Wallace, suddenly asked everyone about their relationship status. He first asked Madison Taylor, the prettiest girl in our class: “Back then, to help you all focus on your studies, I deliberately confiscated the love letter you wrote to Evan Pierce. Do you still resent me for that?” Madison’s eyes brimmed with tears as she gazed tenderly at my husband, Evan Pierce, then shook her head. Mr. Wallace then turned to Evan: “If you could turn back time, would you accept Madison’s confession and make up for that missed opportunity?” Without hesitation, Evan said: “I would.” Everyone started cheering. “You two are truly meant for each other!” I looked down at the cheap wedding ring on my finger. Just yesterday, we had celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary. Evan had told me he would never betray me in this lifetime. Now it seemed I was the only one who had taken him seriously. Having gotten the answer he wanted, Mr. Wallace’s smile relaxed. He raised his glass with a sigh: “Back then, to avoid affecting your college entrance exams, I had to be the bad guy and keep you two apart.” “But now knowing you still have a chance, I feel much better.” Good-natured laughter filled the private room. The class president took the lead: “Mr. Wallace, we all understand your intentions. Besides, the lovebirds didn’t miss their chance—sometimes fate just takes its time. Maybe this reunion is the perfect opportunity. Right, Evan?” Evan smiled without responding, as if in agreement. Madison’s face turned even redder as she practically buried herself under the table. Only I stared at my glass, my eyes unfocused. Because back in high school, the person dating Evan was me. Madison had only written him a love letter. But everyone believed that Madison was the one who should be with Evan. Even Evan had hidden the ring on his finger. Suddenly, Madison looked at me and said apologetically: “Mia, could you switch seats with me? I’d like to sit next to Evan.” The chatter in the room died down as everyone turned to look at me. The class president laughed first: “Oh, can’t wait already, Madison?” He pointed at me with a hint of suggestion and urging. “Come on, Mia, I’ve got a seat here. Switch over and don’t get in the way of their quality time.” Another round of laughter. Madison bit her lower lip, looking at me expectantly. I looked at Evan. “Should I switch?” I asked softly. Evan didn’t look at me—as if deliberately avoiding my gaze, or perhaps not wanting others to notice our connection. He gave an almost imperceptible nod. He wanted me to switch. I picked up my glass and drained it in one gulp. Then I set down the glass, pushed back my chair, stood up, and sat down next to the class president. Each movement was as precise as a robot’s. Madison smiled at me gratefully and happily took the seat next to Evan. Someone spoke up suggestively: “Look at them—don’t they look just like when they secretly took their graduation photo together?” I froze, almost forgetting to mask my expression. “They really do,” the athletics rep said with a laugh, slinging his arm around someone’s shoulders. “Back during graduation photos, only Evan and Madison got special treatment. They said they didn’t want to take photos with unimportant people, so they specifically asked me to excuse them. I remember Mia even asked me where Evan was.” “In the end, I made up some excuse about Evan spraining his ankle to cover for them.” “Evan, is that photo of you and Madison still your profile background?” Evan’s profile background hadn’t changed since graduation year. Two figures in school uniforms, seen from behind. He had told me it was a stock photo he found online to make up for not taking graduation photos. Turns out, it was him and Madison. I lowered my head and looked at the ring on my finger. Under the light, it hurt my eyes. “Oh, right,” Mr. Wallace suddenly turned to me with a caring smile, “I almost forgot to ask you, Mia. You were always so introverted in school and rarely came to our reunions. Are you married now?” The room fell silent for a moment. Evan’s hand froze mid-air as he stared directly at me. That look was filled with anxiety and warning. Then someone kicked my shin. The cold leather of the shoe touched my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I didn’t need to guess who it was. After five years of marriage, the last time I’d seen Evan this flustered was when we met each other’s parents before our wedding. He was afraid I’d embarrass him in front of his parents, so he had specifically set up secret signals to tell me when to shut up. I didn’t look down, nor did I look at Evan. I smiled at Mr. Wallace: “I am married, but… we’ll be divorced soon.” Across the table, Evan’s body went rigid.

The smile froze on Mr. Wallace’s face. After a moment, he stammered an apology: “I’m sorry, Mia. I didn’t mean to bring up something painful.” “But… why divorce?” He frowned, habitually adopting the tone he used to counsel students: “Marriage is a serious matter. It’s not easy for two people to be together. If there are problems that can be resolved, you should try to work through them. Don’t act rashly out of anger…” “I’m not acting out of anger.” I smiled at him, my voice just loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. “His heart belongs to someone else. There’s no point. Might as well end it.” I smiled. Mr. Wallace’s words caught in his throat. He nodded awkwardly: “Well… I suppose you should divorce then…” Madison rested her head on Evan’s shoulder, her smile unchanged: “Oh, I see. I thought it was…” “Thought what?” The athletics rep, drunk, instinctively probed. Madison glanced at me with an ambiguous look, mumbling: “Nothing, just thought Mia was still being delusional…” Delusional. That had been the entire class’s unanimous assessment of me throughout high school. Because I was just an ordinary girl—ordinary family background, ordinary grades, ordinary looks—yet I delusionally liked Evan Pierce. Meanwhile, the genius student and the gentle school beauty were everyone’s ideal couple. I wasn’t as pretty as Madison, so I didn’t deserve to like Evan. So even though Evan and I had known each other since childhood. Even though Evan had allowed me to stay by his side. Even though back then, Madison and Evan weren’t together—I was Evan’s actual girlfriend. None of that mattered. They all thought I was delusional. And Evan remained the same as always. Eyes on his nose, nose on his heart. Too lazy to even say “Mia is my girlfriend.” “Come on, let’s not bring up the past. Mia’s already married,” the class president coughed lightly, changing the subject. “Mia, good men are everywhere. I know a few suitable guys. Give me your phone—I’ll introduce you.” The class president moved closer with enthusiasm. “Enough—” Evan suddenly kicked the table, a smile on his lips: “She’s not officially divorced yet. Wait until then.” “Evan’s right. Wait until she’s divorced.” “What if her husband finds out and comes after you? Haha.” Everyone joined in the teasing. The class president caught on and downed a drink as self-punishment. “Alright, alright, my bad. Mia, just let me know when you need help. We’re all old classmates—don’t be shy.” I murmured agreement with a smile. From the corner of my eye, I saw Madison take out hand cream and say something to Evan. Evan’s eyes crinkled as he squeezed a thick dollop onto his own hands. The scent was strong—I could smell the gardenia fragrance even from across the table. The old Evan hated artificial fragrances. Because of this, in all our years of marriage, I never used hand cream, and even carefully selected unscented body wash. Turns out he didn’t hate fragrances. He just didn’t like me using them.

For the rest of the evening, Evan and I had a tacit understanding. I chatted with the class president about old times. He and Madison were inseparable, whispering things only they could hear. We didn’t disturb each other, distant as strangers with no connection. Even when leaving, we went separately. I grabbed my bag and left the private room first. Evan had driven, so he went to the parking garage first and brought the car to the hotel entrance. Classmates trickled away. Evan opened the car door and carefully helped the tipsy Madison into the vehicle. The entire time, he didn’t glance at me once. The class president was supporting the drunk Mr. Wallace. Seeing me staring at Evan’s car, he laughed: “Mia, stop looking. Evan’s always been particular—he won’t even look at people he doesn’t like. I drove here too. I’ll give you a ride later.” The class president meant well, so naturally I didn’t refuse. I nodded and followed him to his car. Outside the window, streetlights lit up one by one, casting dim yellow circles on the asphalt like abandoned periods marking the end of sentences. The class president turned down the AC and asked softly, “Cold?” I shook my head, but my gaze followed the hotel’s shrinking silhouette in the rearview mirror. Suddenly I remembered the years I’d spent helping Evan build his business from nothing. We’d lived in a basement apartment, splitting ten-dollar takeout meals between us. The ring on my hand was from that time. From a street vendor. Sixty-eight dollars. He said he’d use this ring to forever remember the hardships I endured with him. I remembered how, after making it big, he drove his new car and took me to the beach, promising: “From now on, you’re the only one who’ll ever sit in my passenger seat.” And yesterday, on our fifth anniversary, he’d said apologetically: “Mia, I’ve been unfair to you all these years. I’ll never let you down in this lifetime.” Now it seemed he’d forgotten. Only I had taken him seriously. My phone suddenly buzzed—a message from Evan. [Good job tonight, but the divorce excuse was too frivolous. Don’t use it again.] I laughed and exited our chat. Of course I knew divorce wasn’t frivolous. But he didn’t know I was serious.

When I got home, I tossed my bag on the floor and sighed deeply before washing up. Two hours passed. Evan still wasn’t home. Out of habit, I picked up my phone to ask where he was. Opening the chat, I realized it wasn’t hard to guess. Late at night, a man and woman alone—what might happen wasn’t hard to imagine. Just like in our five years of marriage, Evan treated me well in every way. Except he refused to acknowledge our marriage in front of classmates, refused to tell them I was his wife. The reason wasn’t hard to guess either. I opened my photo gallery to a hidden album containing a screenshot from Evan’s phone. On our wedding night, Evan was distracted, standing on the balcony with his phone for a long time. He said he had wedding jitters, but I knew. He was looking at Madison’s social media. I’d secretly taken that screenshot that night. He wrote: “When are you coming back?” She replied: “Give me another five years.” This year marked exactly five years. I touched the photo with my finger, then deleted it. I removed the wedding ring I’d treasured for five years and placed it on the bathroom counter. I scheduled an appointment with a divorce attorney my friend had recommended, turned off my phone, and went to sleep. That night, I slept restlessly. In my dreams, I kept remembering high school—Evan and I secretly sharing earbuds to listen to music, hiding from Mr. Wallace. And the moment of shock and delight in his eyes when he received Madison’s love letter. Tears fell onto my pillowcase. The next morning, I put on makeup and changed into the blue dress from my closet. Evan didn’t like blue, so I’d never worn this dress after buying it. As I was about to leave, Evan came home. Seeing the blue dress, he paused: “Madison had too much to drink last night. She was alone, and I was worried something might happen, so I slept on her couch.” I looked up at him, somewhat surprised. I hadn’t expected him to explain. Evan took off his jacket and approached me, his tone casual: “Why’d you dig out this dress? Didn’t you used to dislike blue?” I walked past him and changed my shoes. “I’ve always liked it. You just never knew.” Evan watched me, the ease in his eyes fading. “What’s wrong?” “Why are you so angry this early?” “You were never like this before.” My movement paused for a moment. Before, I wasn’t like this because I hadn’t completely lost hope. Now, things were different. “Look, stop being mad. What happened yesterday wasn’t intentional. You know Madison—she’s sensitive. If I hadn’t responded, she would’ve felt terrible.” “I’ll make it up to you. How about we travel somewhere next week? The Maldives? I saw it on Madison’s feed…” “Evan.” I interrupted him. He froze slightly, a rare confusion in his eyes. I looked at him and said softly: “We…” Before I could finish, Evan suddenly grabbed my hand and demanded: “Your ring? Where’s your ring?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “373612”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance

To increase the birth rate, the country mandated that anyone unmarried past thirty must accept a system-enforced match. Dylan and I had been married for almost a year, so when I received the call from City Hall, my first instinct was to question it. “Are you sure you have the right person?” The staff member’s tone was firm. “The system shows you’re still unmarried.” “This concerns a major life decision. We verify personal information multiple times. There’s no mistake.” I hung up, grabbed the marriage certificate from my drawer, and rushed to City Hall. The staff member saw through it immediately. “This is a fake certificate. Even the stamp is forged.” Before I left, they stopped me. “We’ve already found your matched partner. Two days from now, remember to come on time to complete the marriage registration with him.” The fake marriage certificate was destroyed right before my eyes, reduced to a pile of ashes. My voice hoarse, I requested to check Dylan’s marital status. The staff member’s fingers flew across the keyboard, then turned the screen toward me. Married. Spouse: Claire Rivers. The registration date was eight months ago—exactly the same as the date on my fake certificate. When I accepted that marriage certificate that day, Dylan must have thought I looked like a complete fool, so easily played by him. A chill swept through my body. I felt dizzy and disoriented. When I came to my senses, I was already standing at my front door. Dylan sat on the sofa, his tone as gentle as always. “Where were you? Why are you back so late?” My eyes bloodshot, I walked up and slapped him across the face. “Why did you lie to me?” “Why her of all people?” He froze for a moment, then a mysterious smile curved his lips. He smoothly caught both my hands, trapping my agitated body in his embrace. He already knew exactly what I was asking about. “Actually, Claire isn’t as terrible as you say.” All the strength drained from my body in an instant. Such a light, casual sentence, dismissing all the harm I’d suffered. But when I collapsed crying at my mother’s funeral, when Claire’s lackeys cornered me and beat me against a wall, Dylan had held my hand and sworn solemnly. “Your enemies are my enemies. Renee, I’ll always be your solid support.” I had truly believed him. But now he stood before me, and when he spoke Claire’s name, his eyes held a tenderness that broke my heart. I wanted to grab his collar and demand when it had started, to ask what else he’d lied about. But all I could do was dig my nails into my palms, forcing myself to calm down. As long as I could find someone to marry within three days, City Hall would withdraw the forced matching. Apart from Dylan, I had no one else. I wiped away my tears, hope flickering in my eyes. “Could you… could you divorce her?” He let out a muffled laugh and playfully tapped my nose. “Now’s not the time for you to throw a tantrum.” I opened my mouth to say more, but his finger pressed against my lips. “Claire is pregnant. I need to give her security.” “Don’t worry. As soon as the baby is born, we’ll divorce immediately.” “Renee, just wait for me a little longer.” I swayed unsteadily, shaking my head through blurred tears, wanting to say there was no more time. In three days, I would marry someone I’d never met. But my throat felt stuffed with cotton. I couldn’t get a single word out. Dylan kept talking. Now that everything was out in the open, he threw caution to the wind.

“Claire is in her third trimester. I don’t feel comfortable with her living alone.” “Tomorrow I’ll bring her to live here.” With the facade torn away, he became even more brazen. The next day, he did exactly as he said and brought her over. Claire’s pregnant belly was prominently rounded, her face glowing with obvious joy. Meeting my gaze, she flashed a provocative smile. “Renee, which room should I sleep in?” I stared at her, grinding my teeth. I would never forget the day she and her mother came to our house. The sun had been shining brightly. Shortly after, my mother became a pool of blood and flesh on the lawn below. “Renee, remember to keep your eyes open from now on. Don’t follow in Mom’s footsteps.” After saying that, she jumped right in front of me. What followed was an endless nightmare. And now, Claire stood in my home with her arm around my husband, smiling provocatively at me. “Renee, the guest room is a bit small. I want to sleep in the master bedroom.” I didn’t get any say in the matter. The moment she finished speaking, Dylan waved his hand and workers swarmed in, throwing all my belongings out of the master bedroom. Things clattered across the floor. He helped Claire to the bed, carefully settling her on the edge. A jade bracelet on the nightstand caught Claire’s attention. Its texture was lustrous, clearly well-treasured. She picked it up and examined it carefully. The next second, as if her hand had slipped, she let go. I instinctively ran forward to catch it, but I was still a step too late. The sound of the jade shattering exploded in my ears. I lowered my head as tears dropped one by one onto the floor. Overwhelming rage surged into my head. I swung my arms toward Claire. “That was the only thing my mother left me!” But before I could get close to her, Dylan stepped forward, grabbed my arm, and shoved me backward hard. I fell onto the bracelet fragments, the impact cutting my palms until they bled profusely. Dylan, who would normally blow gently on even a small cut on my hand for ages, now frowned harshly, his tone as casual as discussing what to eat for dinner. “It’s just a bracelet. Next time I’ll buy you a better one.” “Getting worked up over this and upsetting Claire isn’t worth it.” I climbed up from the floor, carefully gathering the blood-stained fragments into my clothes. But a moving worker stumbled, his arm hitting my back, and the fragments scattered across the floor again. I finally couldn’t hold back anymore and collapsed on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. After enduring all this, I developed a high fever that night. In my confusion, I felt a pair of hands carefully wiping away my sweat, placing a cool, damp cloth on my forehead. When I was fourteen, I was punished for not cleaning the stairs properly, forced to kneel in the snow in the dead of winter. My stepmother’s expression was vicious. “We’ve raised you all these years, and you can’t even do this small task properly.” My father deliberately avoided my pleading eyes, pretending not to see. Halfway through my punishment, a basin of foul, cold water was dumped over me, chilling me to the bone. Claire stood on the second floor wearing a thick coat, her hands in fuzzy gloves as she held the basin. “You looked sleepy, so I came to wake you up.” In the end, it was Dylan who brought me home, forcing several bowls of fever medicine down my throat to pull me back from death’s door. He had cradled my swollen, frost-damaged fingers, his eyes brimming with heartache. In my daze, I opened my eyes to find that the teenage Dylan had transformed into this cold, silent stranger before me.

“You’re sick. Don’t move around the house these next few days, so you don’t pass the illness to Claire.” Tears rolled down my temples, soaking into the pillow. I couldn’t understand how a good person could rot like this. He stood at the door, meticulously wiping his hands with disinfectant alcohol, afraid of missing a single detail. Footsteps pattered outside the door. The next second, Claire threw herself into Dylan’s arms. The guest room door clicked shut and locked. No matter how much I knocked and shouted, there was no response. I was imprisoned, simply for having a fever. I slid down against the door and sat on the floor, my heart already too numb to ripple. In the darkness, my phone vibrated. A message popped up. [Match successful. One day remaining until marriage registration.] I gave a self-mocking smile, avoiding looking at the matched partner’s information like an escapist. A whole day passed. It seemed everyone had forgotten about me. My already weak stomach ached from not eating all day. My throat was dry and scratchy, and even my breath felt hot. The door opened a crack. Claire stood far away, holding a stale piece of bread. Like feeding a dog, she tossed the bread in front of me. Then she raised her phone and took a photo of me. “Didn’t you say you hated homewreckers the most?” “Now I’m going to make you experience what it’s like to be the other woman yourself.” She laughed loudly, then turned to edit a caption and post it online. She portrayed herself as a pitiful pregnant woman, claiming I had taken advantage of her vulnerability to seduce her husband. In the photo, I looked like a homeless dog—disheveled and pathetic. My phone notifications dinged incessantly. Soon someone had dug up my information. “She looks decent on the outside, but she’s so shameless behind closed doors.” “The birth rate is already declining year by year, and she chooses this moment to upset a pregnant woman. Rotten to the core.” “Is it possible her mother gave birth to her the same way? Like mother, like daughter.” I shook my head, whimpering: “No… it’s not…” I wanted to say Claire was the homewrecker who stole someone else’s man, that I was the victim. But then I suddenly remembered that fake marriage certificate burned to ashes. My hand slowly dropped. After a long while, I finally spoke in a hoarse voice. “Let me go. I won’t interfere in your business anymore.” Claire let out a cold laugh. “I refuse.” “I want you to watch the child being born with your own eyes. Watch as I take away everything you care about, piece by piece.” She leaned close to my ear, speaking at a volume only we could hear. “Want to know when I got pregnant with this child?” My heart clenched. I instinctively backed away several steps, but Claire grabbed my arm and held it in a death grip. Her voice continued. “On the anniversary of your mother’s death.” My pupils contracted sharply, overwhelming hatred rising in my heart. I remembered how Dylan, who had promised to be there that day, suddenly canceled. “Something urgent came up at work. I can’t get away.” “Renee, we’ll visit your mother together next year, okay?” Thinking back now, Dylan’s voice had carried subtle breathlessness when he spoke. I’d just been too grief-stricken that day to notice. I clenched my fists, my fingertips turning white with pressure. If I had a knife right now, I would gladly plunge it deep into Claire’s belly.

But before I could react, she suddenly clutched her stomach and cried out softly. Urgent footsteps approached from far to near. Dylan’s trembling hands supported Claire. “What’s wrong?” “Dylan, my stomach hurts so much…” The next second, Dylan’s sharp gaze shot toward me, anger surging within. “If anything happens to Claire and the baby, I definitely won’t let you off.” He steadily lifted Claire into his arms. Before leaving, he didn’t forget to order someone to bring me along. “If anything goes wrong, you need to be ready to donate at any time!” The car sped toward the hospital. I rested my head against the window, Dylan’s tireless comforting of Claire filling my ears. Claire clutched Dylan’s clothes tightly, her voice full of panic. “Dylan, do you think our baby will be okay?” Dylan held her tightly in his arms, then raised his hand and slapped me. “Didn’t I warn you to stay away from Claire? Why did you provoke her again?” I lifted my eyelids but didn’t argue. Whatever I said, he wouldn’t believe me anyway. Dylan’s words continued. As the car stopped, doctors who had been waiting rushed over. I stood outside the crowd, watching coldly. Claire turned to look at me, then fearfully turned back. “Dylan, I’m so scared.” “Childbirth can cause massive hemorrhaging. What if there’s not enough blood in the blood bank?” Dylan gripped her hand tightly, following her gaze to me. I sensed something and tensed. “She has the same blood type as Claire.” “Take her to draw blood!” I backed away in fear, flailing my arms wildly, but was immediately restrained. “Let me go!” I struggled desperately, but was still pinned firmly in the chair. The needle pierced my arm. Crimson blood flowed from my body. “We’ve already drawn 500cc, Mr. Carter. Should we continue?” Dylan glanced at me coldly, his voice ice-cold and merciless. “Continue.” Then he simply turned and left. I felt the vitality draining from my body, warmth slowly dissipating. The nurse’s pitying voice reached my ears. “If we keep drawing, she’ll die, won’t she?” “Sigh, so young. Poor thing.” I felt my whole body begin to shake uncontrollably. Then my consciousness plunged completely into darkness. The operating room light stayed on. An irrepressible panic kept rising in Dylan’s heart. He felt something had slipped beyond his control. He attributed this emotion to worry for Claire. Medical staff went in and out, making him even more irritable. After who knows how long, the operating room light finally went out. The doctor brought the baby out. “Mother and child are safe. It’s a boy.” Dylan carefully took the baby, finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. He suddenly remembered Renee’s existence. “Go bring Renee here.” But before long, his subordinate ran over in panic, holding a phone. “This is bad. Miss Rivers is gone.” “Her phone was on the hospital room floor.” Dylan took the phone. Just then, a text message popped up. [Forced matching has taken effect. Your marital status has been updated. Congratulations on your marriage!] But before Dylan could read the message clearly, Claire was wheeled out by a nurse.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “373613”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance