Category: English

When my billionaire father died suddenly, my stepmother and stepsister moved into the master suite and treated me like excess baggage. At sixteen, terrified they’d steal my inheritance, I played the brainless, spoiled princess who couldn’t tell a contract’s front from its back. Rose tossed legal documents at me. I flipped two pages, tears streaming. “These words might know me, but I don’t know them.” When she urged me to sign away my rights, I clung to her neck. “You’re the best sister ever. You’d never lie to me, right?” Stepmother watched for six months, convinced I was a gullible idiot. She doubled my allowance, telling everyone I was simple and easy to please. I embraced the life of a useless trust fund baby—lounging, manicures, reality TV, lavish teas. Last month, Rose brought home her best friend, a “top-tier financial elite” from London. Stepmother handed me a thick ledger. “She’ll manage your finances. Have a look.” Fresh ink reeked from the pages. Two flips revealed white-out and altered numbers. Signing would make me guilty of embezzlement. I closed the ledger, smiling sweetly. “Thank you, Evelyn. I promise I’ll study it very hard.” 1 At my father’s funeral reception, Evelyn stood in the center of our grand living room, pressing a silk handkerchief to her eyes. She looked directly at a group of distant relatives and delivered a flawless performance. “Sandy is my own daughter now. I promise you all, I will take the absolute best care of her.” Her voice was choked with sobs but perfectly audible. The household staff stood around with their eyes downcast. I heard one of the maids whisper about how incredibly kind the madam was for taking in such useless baggage. I stood silently at the top of the grand staircase, gripping a framed photograph of my father, completely mute. That very same night, the head maid, Martha, marched up the stairs to my bedroom. “Miss Sandy, the madam said you need to pack your things and move up to the attic. She is going to completely remodel this room.” I looked up at her, my voice trembling. “But this is the room Dad decorated for me.” “The madam makes the rules now,” Martha snapped, already shoving my expensive dresses into a suitcase. I did not argue. The attic was tucked away at the very end of the third floor. When I pushed the heavy door open, a wave of damp, rotting wood and stale dust hit my face. The window frame leaked freezing air, the mattress sheets were a dingy yellow, and the single pillow bore a dark, suspicious water stain. I sat on the edge of that disgusting bed, hugging the stuffed bear my father had given me, and finally let the tears fall. I wiped my face fiercely, making a silent vow to myself. Nobody was going to protect me anymore. From this moment on, if I was going to cry, those tears needed to buy me something valuable. The door creaked open. Rose walked in carrying a bowl of plain rice and vegetables, completely failing to hide the nasty smirk on her face. She was the daughter Evelyn brought into the family from a previous marriage. We shared zero blood, but I was forced to call her my older sister. Rose slammed the bowl onto the dusty wooden desk. The ceramic clattered loudly against the wood. “Eat up, princess. Mom says this is your new kingdom.” She turned on her heel to leave. I called out to her, my voice shrinking into a pathetic squeak as I squeezed my stuffed bear tighter. “Rose… can I please go look at Dad’s room sometimes? Just to remember him?” Rose glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “What is there to look at? He is dead, get over it.” She marched down the hall, her heels clicking aggressively on the hardwood. But three days later, she came right back. This time, she wore a bright, artificial smile. She was holding a stack of legal documents, and her voice was sickeningly sweet. She spread the papers out on the desk, calling me by the pet name my father used. “Sweetie, the company needs you to sign off on some routine paperwork. It is just a formality. Just put your name right here.” I took the documents and let my eyes trail over the dense legal jargon. It was a complete transfer of shares and a formal declaration waiving my inheritance rights. Evelyn and Rose had spent three days cooking up this brilliant scheme. I found it absolutely hilarious, but when I looked up, my face was a mask of pure confusion. “Rose, these words might know me, but I definitely do not know them.” Rose forced a patient smile. “You just need to sign your name. I will take care of all the complicated stuff for you.” I shook my head violently and pushed the papers back toward her, forcing a dramatic sob. “Dad always told me never to sign things I cannot read. He said signing your name means you are making a promise, and you can never take a promise back.” Rose’s face immediately darkened. “Are you saying you do not trust your own sister?” She was always like this. Every single emotion she felt was plastered right on her face. She was almost too easy to read. I suddenly lunged forward, throwing my arms around her neck and rubbing my face against her expensive cashmere sweater. “Rose loves me the most! You would never lie to me, right? So please, sit down and read every single word to me so I can understand.” I felt Rose’s entire body go rigid. She was completely caught off guard by my clinginess. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a maid walking past the open doorway. She ripped the documents out of my hands, her face flushed with frustration. “Forget it. We will talk about this when you are older.” She stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I sat on the bed, hugging my bear, watching the closed door as the innocent smile on my face slowly vanished into a cold, flat line. Late one night about a week later, a horrifying, screeching sound pierced the silence of the attic. It was clearly a human attempting to mimic the wail of a dying cat. The sound was shrill, deliberate, and coming from just outside my door. Next came the rhythmic, eerie tapping against my drafty windowpane. A moment later, a distorted, creepy music box melody started echoing through the hallway. It sounded exactly like the background track of a cheap horror movie, bouncing off the walls in the dead of night. I curled into a ball under my thin blankets, my heart hammering against my ribs, my palms slick with cold sweat. But my panic only lasted a few seconds. I realized exactly what this was. Evelyn was trying to terrorize me. She wanted to drive me clinically insane or scare me into running away from home. Like mother, like daughter. If Evelyn wanted to get rid of me, she was reduced to using these cheap, pathetic parlor tricks. I took a deep breath, kicked off the blankets, and ran barefoot out of the room. I let out a bloodcurdling scream, crying hysterically as I sprinted down the dark staircase. “Evelyn! Evelyn, help me! There are ghosts! I am so scared!” 2 The terrified screams of a sixteen-year-old girl are incredibly loud. My voice echoed through every corner of the massive estate, blending perfectly with the creepy music she had set up in the hallway. I did not stop running until I reached the master suite. I threw my fists against Evelyn’s heavy mahogany door, pounding relentlessly. “Evelyn! Open the door! Please, I am terrified!” The door remained firmly shut. Seeing this, I instantly dialed up my performance, sobbing so hard I sounded like I was choking on my own breath. Doors began to click open upstairs and downstairs as the staff peeked out of their quarters. Martha stood at the end of the hall, clutching her robe. I heard another maid whisper to her, wondering why the madam was ignoring a terrified child. Still, the room inside remained dead silent. I pressed my face against the wood, my voice shaking in pathetic, broken gasps. “Mom… please. I am so scared. I cannot sleep alone in the dark.” The whispering in the hallway grew louder. Finally, the lock clicked. Evelyn stood in the doorway wearing a luxurious silk nightgown. Her face was a mask of suppressed rage, dark circles forming under her eyes. She opened her mouth to scold me, but I did not give her the chance. I launched myself into her arms, shivering violently, and buried my wet, snotty face right into her expensive silk chest. “Evelyn, I need to sleep with you tonight!” With the entire household staff watching her every move, Evelyn was forced to contort her furious face into a mask of maternal concern. She awkwardly patted my back, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness while her jaw was completely locked. “Alright, sweetheart. You can sleep in my room tonight.” I crawled into her massive, comfortable bed and wrapped myself tightly in her Egyptian cotton duvet. I looked up at her with eyes full of absolute adoration and dependence, while internally, I was laughing my head off. I made sure she suffered that night. I tossed and turned aggressively. I kicked the blankets off six different times. I sleep-talked nonsense four times. At three in the morning, I shot up in bed, screaming my father’s name, and then threw myself into Evelyn’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Evelyn spent the entire night replacing the blankets, waking up to my screams, and soothing my fake panic attacks. She did not get a single minute of sleep. If she wanted to maintain her image as the saintly, grieving stepmother, she had absolutely no choice but to swallow her rage and comfort the traumatized orphan. The next night, I showed up at her bedroom door again, clutching my pillow. I stared up at her with giant, pitiful eyes. “Evelyn, I am still too scared.” She tried to turn me away, but I just stood there, shivering in the hallway. A maid happened to be walking by with a stack of fresh towels, glancing in our direction. Gossip was a wealthy widow’s worst nightmare. Evelyn ground her teeth together and opened the door. From that day on, if a floorboard creaked in the attic, I was knocking on her door. Evelyn’s eye bags grew darker by the day. Her skin lost its expensive glow. On the morning of the fifth day, I heard the sharp, violent crash of porcelain shattering against the wall inside her bedroom. That afternoon, I was walking past her closed door and caught the sound of muffled arguing. Rose’s voice was sharp and impatient. “Mom, the girl is a complete idiot. Dad spoiled her so much her brain is entirely empty. Scaring her is useless. What if she actually loses her mind? How are we going to explain a crazy stepdaughter to the extended family? We are better off just keeping her happy until she turns eighteen. Then we can easily trick her into signing everything away.” There was a long silence before Evelyn let out an exhausted sigh. “You are right. Playing rough is too risky. We will keep her comfortable and complacent. It is only two more years anyway.” I stood perfectly still in the hallway, clutching my teddy bear. A slow, genuine smile spread across my face. The very next morning, Evelyn was a changed woman. She climbed the stairs to the attic, took my hand, and spoke to me in a voice as soft as velvet. “Sweetie, this room is entirely too cold for you. Let’s get you moved to the south-facing guest suite on the second floor. How does that sound?” By the afternoon, I was unpacking in a beautiful, sunlit room. Fresh silk sheets, brand-new velvet curtains, and a massive bouquet of fresh lilies sitting on the vanity. It was a massive upgrade from the moldy attic. Standing in front of the maids, Evelyn smiled warmly and announced her new policy. “Sandy is such a sweet, simple girl. From now on, she gets an allowance of twenty thousand dollars a month. She can buy whatever makes her happy.” The staff immediately began praising the madam’s generosity. Rose leaned against the staircase railing, a look of absolute disgust on her face. I squeezed my new designer stuffed animal and beamed at them with perfect, childish innocence. “Thank you so much, Evelyn! Thank you, Rose!” 3 I spent my days sleeping until noon. I would wander downstairs to eat the gourmet breakfasts Martha prepared, then collapse onto the velvet sofa to scroll through social media and watch mind-numbing reality shows. I booked expensive private manicurists to come to the house, and mountains of designer shopping bags piled up in the foyer. Evelyn and Rose watched me rot on the couch, their eyes growing more relaxed by the day. “Look at her,” Rose sneered one afternoon, stepping over a pile of my discarded fashion magazines. She did not even bother to lower her voice. “She dropped out of her prep school because she said reading gave her a headache. She is completely useless.” Evelyn took a slow sip of her black coffee, a satisfied smirk on her lips. “Useless is good. Useless means she will not cause us any trouble.” I popped a fresh strawberry into my mouth, my eyes glued to the television screen, giggling loudly at the show. But I kept a mental receipt of every single thing they did. Shortly after my father passed, his most trusted executives had secretly reached out to me. Every single quarter, I quietly reviewed the company’s confidential financial reports. Evelyn thought keeping the official documents locked in my father’s study was enough to keep me out, but she had no idea my father had told me exactly where the hidden spare key was. A few days after my seventeenth birthday, Rose walked through the front doors with a stylish stranger. Evelyn practically floated down the stairs to greet them, taking the woman’s hand affectionately before turning to me. “Sweetie, this is Rose’s best friend. She just moved back from the UK. She is a genius with money.” The woman flashed me a brilliant, over-rehearsed smile, reaching out a hand with perfectly painted crimson nails. “Just call me Amy.” I tilted my head, looking at her with wide, empty eyes. “Hi, Amy.” Amy’s smile widened, but I caught the brief, unmistakable flash of superiority in her eyes. A week later, Evelyn walked into my bedroom, her eyes artificially reddened with fake tears. She sat on the edge of my bed, pulling a thick leather binder into her lap. She grabbed my hand, her voice trembling just the right amount. “Sweetie, the company accounts your father left behind are an absolute mess. I simply cannot manage them all by myself. This is the ledger from last year. Just take a look and sign your name at the bottom to show you acknowledge it.” “Do I really have to read all this boring math?” I asked, looking thoroughly confused. Evelyn nodded sadly. “You are your father’s daughter. It is your responsibility to at least look at it.” I took the heavy binder and opened it. The paper smelled strange, like harsh chemicals and damp ink. It was the distinct smell of special erasing fluid. My eyes scanned the columns. My heart did a cold, hard flip. A thirty-million-dollar expenditure had been scratched out and rewritten as three million. The tampering was incredibly sloppy, the ghostly indentations of the original zeros still visible under the new ink. They really thought my brain was completely hollow. They were not even trying to hide their crimes. Since they were so confident in my stupidity, I had to reward them for their faith. I looked up, blinking rapidly. “Evelyn, these numbers give me a headache. Can Rose come explain them to me?” Evelyn immediately called Rose and Amy into the room. The three of them surrounded my bed. Rose forced herself to patiently point at every single line item, explaining them in a gentle, soothing voice. But I could see a bead of nervous sweat forming on her forehead. I kept pointing to the same glaring discrepancy. “But why does this line look so messy? What was the number before it got changed?” Rose’s mouth twitched. “It was just a typo by the accountant. We fixed it for you.” I pointed to another blaring error. “What about this one? Why did thirty million turn into three million?” Amy’s professional patience finally cracked. Her tone turned sharp. “You do not need to worry about the details. Just sign your name at the bottom. We are taking care of it.” My eyes instantly welled up with tears. My lower lip quivered violently. “Are you guys mad at me because I am stupid? I do not want to sign this anymore. I am going to call Mr. Harrison. He was Dad’s favorite lawyer, and he told me to call him if I ever got confused.” Mr. Harrison was the corporate attorney my father trusted with his life, and the very same man who had been secretly feeding me company updates. Rose’s face drained of all color. She lunged forward, grabbing my arm, her voice pitching up in panic. “No! Do not bother the lawyers. We are just trying to help you. Do you really think your big sister would trick you?” I looked at her, tears spilling down my cheeks, sniffling loudly. “If you promise everything is okay, then write me a guarantee. Write down on a piece of paper that signing this book will not make me lose any of my money. Then I will sign it.” Rose and Amy exchanged a long, tense look. The room was suffocatingly quiet. Amy finally gritted her teeth. “Fine. We will write it.” Rose pulled a crisp piece of stationary from my desk. She picked up a pen and wrote out a formal guarantee, stating that the ledger was entirely accurate and would not result in any financial loss to my estate. She signed her name with an angry flourish. Amy signed directly below her. I read the paper carefully, making sure the wording was ironclad, before folding it up and slipping it into my pajama pocket. Then, I picked up a pen and signed the forged ledger. I made sure my handwriting was atrocious, shaky and oversized, like a child learning cursive. I completely changed the way I held the pen, ensuring a handwriting expert would have a nightmare trying to match it to my real signature later. As soon as they had the signed book in their hands, Rose and Amy let out a simultaneous breath of relief. I saw the triumphant, greedy smiles they flashed each other before they practically ran out of the room.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “504157”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When Vincent brought his ultimate high school crush, Audrey, back to our shared penthouse, I greeted them at the door with a perfectly pleasant smile and a premium condom. “Hubby, I know it is technically your safe week, but better safe than sorry.” Vincent stared at me, his eyes swirling with a complicated mix of shock and irritation. “Mindy, you actually keep track of things like that?” Now that felt like an insult to my professionalism. I was playing the role of the devoted, brainless trophy wife, and he was questioning my dedication. Clearly, he needed a reminder of my top-tier services. I launched into a bright, non-stop monologue about my own cycle, our anniversaries, his gym schedule, and his exact grooming routine. Vincent finally groaned, rubbing his temples, and waved me off with a look of utter exhaustion. “Enough. Just go to sleep.” He brushed past me, walking straight into the master suite and slamming the door heavy enough to rattle the wall sconces. I stood in the hallway, twirling the little foil packet in my fingers, before letting out a soft sigh and dragging my feet toward the guest bedroom. 1 The next morning, I was carrying a plate of freshly toasted bagels and eggs out of the kitchen when Audrey floated down the grand staircase. She looked radiant, practically glowing with the triumph of a woman marking her territory. Seeing me, her lips curled into a sneer of pure disdain. “Mindy, you really have no spine, do you? Letting another woman sleep under your roof. You are practically a doormat with a welcome sign painted on your forehead.” Oh, hell no. Did this entitled little princess just call me a doormat in my own workspace? Without missing a beat, I flicked my wrist. The steaming, sunny-side-up egg flew off my spatula and slapped right onto her perfectly contoured cheek. “And what kind of swamp rat are you, hopping into my house with breath that smells like absolute garbage?” Audrey screamed, frantically wiping the hot yolk off her face. “Are you crazy?” “Keep yapping, and you will find out exactly how crazy I can get.” She had never been spoken to like that in her privileged little life. All the color drained from her face, and she stumbled backward. Just as I took a step forward to finish the job, the master bedroom door clicked open. Vincent stepped out, stretching his broad shoulders in a lazy yawn. Audrey saw her cue. Her eyes rolled back, and she went limp, aiming for a delicate, dramatic faint. I was faster. I dropped to the floor like a sack of bricks, beating her to the expensive Persian rug. Before Audrey could even figure out how to land gracefully, I reached up and grabbed her by the collar of her silk pajamas, yanking her down with me. From Vincent’s vantage point at the top of the stairs, it looked exactly like Audrey had tackled me to the ground. He let out a sharp shout. “Audrey, what are you doing?” Audrey opened her mouth to defend herself, but I tightened my grip on her collar, twisting the fabric just enough to cut off her air. She panicked, her hands flailing wildly as she slapped at my arms, desperately trying to pry my fingers loose. To anyone watching, she was straddling me and throwing punches. Vincent sprinted down the stairs, grabbing Audrey by the waist and shoving her off me. I released my grip at the exact perfect second. Audrey lost her balance and collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath. Vincent did not even spare her a second glance. He dropped to his knees, his hands hovering over me with genuine panic. “Mindy, are you okay? Talk to me, please.” I kept my eyes squeezed shut, putting on my best fragile damsel routine. Audrey rubbed her throat, coughing violently until she finally found her voice. “Vincent, you have to listen to me. It was her.” I did not let her finish. I fluttered my eyelashes open, making sure a single, perfectly timed tear spilled down my cheek. “Hubby, please do not be mad at Audrey. She did not hit me. I just felt dizzy and fell on my own.” Vincent gently pulled me into his chest, shooting a lethal glare at Audrey. Tears were streaming down Audrey’s face now, completely unscripted. “Vincent, she is lying. She hit me first.” He was not buying a single word of it. His voice was absolute ice. “Audrey, I am not blind.” The look on her face was priceless. She looked like she had just swallowed a lemon whole. I laughed inwardly. Did she really think I had not studied every single soap opera trope in existence? To defeat a manipulative mean girl, you have to outplay her at her own game. Since Vincent was currently drowning in guilt and sympathy, I decided to twist the knife. “I just wanted to make a nice breakfast to welcome her. But Audrey said the eggs were undercooked and threw one right at my face.” I pointed to the greasy yellow stain on the collar of my shirt, collateral damage from the egg I had slapped onto her. Vincent’s jaw tightened. He murmured soft apologies into my hair, rubbing my back. I was just gearing up to deliver the final blow to Audrey’s ego when the idiot suddenly clutched her neck, hacking and wheezing like she was dying. For a split second, I panicked. Did I actually crush her windpipe? Vincent froze, his protective instinct overriding his anger. He gently set me down and rushed over to Audrey. “Audrey, what is wrong? Hold on, I am taking you to the ER.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, practically carrying her toward the front door. Just before they stepped out, Audrey peeked over his shoulder and shot me a triumphant, wicked smirk. Well played. I had to hand it to her. I guess I still had a lot to learn in the art of playing the victim. 2 That evening, just as I finished setting the dining table, Vincent guided Audrey back into the house. “Mindy, Audrey is still feeling a bit weak. Do you mind if she stays with us for a while to recover?” He asked the question with extreme caution, his dark eyes scanning my face for any sign of a meltdown. I honestly did not know why he bothered asking. My opinion meant absolutely nothing in this arrangement. But since he gave me the floor, I played my part beautifully. “Of course not. Why would I mind?” “Her family is not in the city. If we do not look after her, who will?” I waved my hand with effortless grace, playing the forgiving saint. Audrey scoffed softly, crossing her arms. “Vincent, why are you asking for her permission? She relies on your credit cards. Do you really think she would dare say no?” Vincent looked at me, a complex, unreadable shadow crossing his features. “Dinner is getting cold,” I said brightly, shattering the awkward silence. I pulled out two chairs right next to each other for them, then took my seat on the opposite side of the long marble table. The meal was eaten in total silence. After Vincent escorted Audrey to her temporary bedroom, I heard a soft knock on my door. I pulled it open and blinked in surprise. Vincent was standing there in his silk bathrobe, smelling of expensive body wash. He tried to push past me into the room, but I immediately planted my hand on his chest to stop him. “Hubby, wait. Are you and Audrey having performance issues? If that is the case, you should have just told me.” Vincent went totally rigid. He stared at me like I had just grown a second head. I stared right back, my eyes wide and entirely sincere. For the past five years of our marriage, I had taken flawless care of this man and never once pried into his personal affairs. As far as fake wives went, I was the undisputed champion. He could not find a single flaw in my service. Realizing I was not going to move an inch, Vincent let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “Mindy, how are the medical bills for your brother? Do you have enough?” I nodded, then hesitated and shook my head. “The standard treatments are covered. But he has been in so much pain lately. There is a specialized neuro-stimulation device that could help him, but I am a little short.” Vincent did not say another word. He turned on his heel and walked back to the master suite. Less than a minute later, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I checked the screen. A deposit notification for one million dollars. The corners of my mouth curled up into a massive grin. Tonight was going to be a very good night. I woke up at dawn, prepped a flawless breakfast spread, and drove straight to the private hospital facility. My younger brother, Hans, looked up at me with glassy, exhausted eyes. “Mindy. It hurts.” Seeing his body growing frailer by the day twisted my heart into brutal knots. “Do not be scared, kiddo. The pain is going to stop today.” Hans’s eyes widened in sheer panic. He gripped the edge of his bedsheets. “Mindy, are you going to euthanize me? Please tell me you are not pulling the plug. I swear it does not hurt anymore.” I rolled my eyes so hard they almost got stuck in my head, letting out an exasperated sigh. Before the car accident that left him paralyzed from the chest down, Hans had been the brightest, funniest, most chaotic kid in the world. Now, his body constantly misfired pain signals from nerve damage, even though his actual limbs could not feel a thing. I carefully sponge-bathed him, chatting with the specialists, and finally paid for the imported device to be fitted to his head and spine. It cost nearly a million dollars. I had been saving every penny, but I was always just short. Thanks to my generous employer, Hans finally had relief. Once the machine was calibrated, the tight lines of agony on Hans’s face smoothed out. He looked more like himself than he had in months. “So, big sis. I saw the tabloids. The billionaire’s golden girl is back in town. Are you about to get fired?” Of course. The second he stops hurting, he starts roasting me. I raised my hands, pretending I was about to yank the expensive helmet right off his skull. Hans jerked his head from side to side, dodging my hands with a cheeky grin. “Hey, violence is never the answer.” I shot him a dirty look. “If I get fired, you are the one who suffers. I will dump you on the sidewalk with a tin cup and a sad sign.” Hans immediately plastered on a cartoonish, exaggerated look of total devotion. We both burst out laughing. “Relax,” I told him, tapping his nose. “Your sister is irreplaceable.” I stuck my tongue out at him, wiggling it like a snake. He stared at me, totally lost. “What is that supposed to mean?” “It means nobody on this planet can kiss ass quite like I can. My survival skills are legendary.” Hans turned his head away in deep disgust. “Put that thing away. You are getting spit on the sterile blankets.” I pulled my tongue back in, deeply satisfied. He spent half his life annoying me, so it was only fair I returned the favor. I stayed by his side, feeding him dinner and watching movies, until the visiting hours finally ended. 3 When I unlocked the front door, Vincent and Audrey were curled up together on the plush living room sofa, watching a movie. I treated them like expensive pieces of furniture and walked right past. When Vincent and I first signed our marriage contract, clause number four explicitly stated that I was not to interfere with his private life. I am a woman who respects a legal binding document. Seeing me walk in, Vincent practically shoved Audrey aside and stood up. “Mindy, you are home.” I looked at him in mild shock. In five years, he had never once gotten up to greet me. Was he actually waiting for me? Audrey’s face darkened like a thundercloud. I ignored her entirely and looked at Vincent. “Did you eat?” He nodded quickly. “Audrey and I grabbed something in the city.” I let out a silent breath of relief. Thank God I did not have to cook for these two clowns tonight. I was just about to escape to my room when Audrey decided to be a nuisance. “Vincent, I barely touched my food at the restaurant. Could you ask her to whip me up a midnight snack?” She used this sickeningly sweet, high-pitched baby voice that genuinely made my stomach churn. Vincent frowned, looking at me with absolute dread. I did not say a word. I just turned around and walked straight into the kitchen. When a client pays well, you provide the service. Simple economics. Half an hour later, I carried out four plates and a bowl of soup, setting them out like a five-star chef. Audrey shot me a smug, victorious look and picked up her fork, stabbing a piece of seared pork belly. The moment she bit down, her face twisted in horror. “Why is this meat sweet?” No kidding, Sherlock. I dumped half a cup of granulated sugar in the pan. She quickly reached for the honey-glazed chicken, shoving a piece into her mouth before immediately spitting it out into her napkin. “It is like pure salt.” I did not have any vinegar left, so I had emptied half a bottle of dark soy sauce into the glaze. She wanted a midnight snack. I was going to give her a culinary nightmare. Realizing I had played her, Audrey absolutely lost her mind. “Vincent, you always bragged about what a great cook she is. Taste this poison yourself.” Vincent looked at me, utterly confused. Seeing my calm, serene expression, he found his confidence. “Stop being so picky, Audrey. Mindy’s cooking is incredible. I have been eating it for five years, do you think I would not know?” Audrey’s face turned ash gray. “Taste it. Just taste it and see.” She picked up a piece of the salty chicken and held it out, trying to feed it to him. Vincent leaned back, his lips pressed in a tight, stubborn line, refusing to take the bite. Watching them locked in this bizarre standoff, I finally chimed in. “Oh, do not try to feed him now. You know Vincent follows a strict intermittent fasting schedule. He never eats after dinner.” Audrey froze, her hand hovering in the air before she awkwardly lowered the fork. Vincent looked up at me. His eyes were swimming with gratitude, guilt, and something else heavy and unreadable. Seeing the silent communication passing between us, Audrey let out a loud, fake cough. “Oh, sorry, Vincent. I totally forgot.” Vincent did not respond. He just stood up and headed straight for the master bedroom without a backward glance. Audrey immediately pushed her chair back to follow him, but I slammed my hand down on her shoulder, forcing her back into her seat. “We have a very strict rule in this house. No wasting food. Every grain of rice takes hard work. Eat it. All of it.” Audrey panicked, shouting Vincent’s name, but he did not even pause. “Mindy is right, Audrey. Finish your plate. No wasting.” His bedroom door clicked shut. Audrey’s face crumbled into pure despair. I pulled out a chair, crossed my legs, and sat directly across from her, settling in for the show. “Listen closely, Audrey. If you spit a single bite out, I will force-feed it right back to you.” Having already experienced my brand of crazy, she knew I was not bluffing. She choked down a bite, violently swallowing it back when her gag reflex kicked in. She looked like a dying goldfish, gulping and heaving, tears streaming down her perfectly powdered face. It was honestly repulsive to watch, but wildly entertaining. The second her plate was clear, she bolted from the table, sprinting for the guest bathroom. I considered following her to see if she threw up. If she did, I was fully prepared to make her lick the porcelain clean. But she slammed and locked the door before I could catch her. 4 I wandered back to my guest bedroom in a great mood, only to stop dead in my tracks. Vincent was lounging on my bed, propped up against the pillows. “Uh… should you not be in the master suite?” I asked. “Audrey ran off crying. Are you not going to go check on her? What if something happens to her?” Vincent’s eyes softened, entirely focused on me. “She is a grown woman. What could possibly happen?” He patted the mattress beside him. “Mindy, it has been a really long time for us.” I scratched my nose, doing the mental math. “Yeah, exactly one year. Not since Audrey moved back to town.” Vincent frowned, clearly annoyed that I ruined the mood. “Why do you always have to bring her up?” “Come here,” he ordered softly. “I really need you tonight.” In the past, he treated intimacy with me like he was handing out a gold medal. Like allowing me to touch him was the ultimate blessing. What he did not know was that I had to mentally replay scenes from my favorite spicy romance movies just to get through it. It was not that Vincent was unattractive. The man was built like a Greek god. It was just that I firmly believed in keeping my professional relationship with my employer strictly business. Seeing me standing frozen in the doorway, his patience snapped. “You do not want to?” I ran a hand through my hair, laughing awkwardly. “Look, boss, if you and Audrey are really having bedroom issues, you should just see a doctor.” Vincent stared at me, halfway between fury and disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about? Nothing is wrong with me and Audrey.” I sighed deeply. “Look, I am not greedy. Just wire me three hundred bucks for the overtime.” Vincent’s face went completely dark. The romantic reward he thought he was offering was being treated like a cheap transaction. “Mindy, what exactly does that mean?” “It means exactly what it sounds like. If you want a service, I expect compensation. You are not getting a free ride on my time.” “We are legally married.” “So what? Marital rape is a felony, Vincent. Do not push your luck.” Vincent threw the blankets off, stormed past me, and slammed the door so hard the floorboards vibrated. I exhaled a massive breath of relief, laughing at how totally oblivious the man was. Did he seriously think sleeping with him was a privilege? Sharing a bed with a man who was emotionally obsessed with another woman was repulsive. Even a toilet made of solid gold is still just a toilet. Three hundred was a bargain. If I was not terrified of losing my medical funding, I would have charged him a thousand. My rejection completely shattered his ego. The very next day, he paraded Audrey around the house, wrapping his arm around her waist right in front of me, making sure I saw every touch. Before this, he had always kept a respectful distance from her when I was in the room. He was clearly trying to make me jealous. Too bad for him, I felt absolutely nothing. I just kept smiling, playing the perfect, accommodating wife whenever he was looking. But the second Vincent left for the office, I made Audrey’s life a living hell. When she tried to fake-slap herself to frame me, I grabbed a bag of frozen peas and aggressively iced her face until she begged for mercy. When she threatened to throw herself down the carpeted stairs to get my attention, I just happened to spill a bucket of soapy mop water all over the marble landing. She wanted an accident? I provided the stage. If she threatened to jump off the second-floor balcony, I offered to give her a little push. It was only fifteen feet. It would break a leg, not her neck. She loved playing the tragic victim, so I made sure she actually had something to cry about. Over the next two weeks, Audrey called Vincent at the office constantly, sobbing about my cruelty. At first, he rushed home. Then, he started sighing. Eventually, he stopped picking up. He could not understand how the sweet, innocent, radiant girl from his youth had turned into this exhausting, paranoid nightmare of a woman. Vincent was the CEO of a massive tech conglomerate. He was fighting corporate battles all day. The last thing he wanted was to come home to a screaming match about spilled mop water. So, when Audrey finally played her ultimate trump card and threatened to move out, Vincent did not even blink. He had his assistant lease a luxury apartment downtown, packed her bags, and had a driver take her away before lunch. 5 When Audrey left, her eyes were wide with dramatic betrayal. She stood in the driveway, warning Vincent that he was going to regret losing her forever. But looking at Vincent’s face, the man was fighting a massive smile. He did not look like a man dealing with regret. Once her car disappeared down the street, Vincent let out a long, heavy exhale. He turned to me, his eyes bright, looking exactly like a golden retriever waiting for a treat. The look clearly said, See? Look how good I am. I just stared at him blankly. What was I supposed to say? He just evicted my favorite source of entertainment. He thought he was sending away his first love, but he actually just deported my only hobby. With Audrey gone, Vincent suddenly became clingy. He told me he wanted things to go back to how they were a year ago, before Audrey moved back to the city. His words actually made me freeze, dragging up memories I had carefully locked away. Vincent and I met five years ago. I had just graduated college when Hans was hit by a drunk driver. The guy fled the scene and was never caught. Suddenly, I was staring down medical bills that could bankrupt a small country. I worked a corporate job during the day and waitressed at a high-end VIP club at night just to keep the debt collectors away. That was where I met Vincent, right after Audrey broke his heart and moved overseas. He was drinking himself into a coma with his wealthy friends. One of them pointed at me, wearing a tight uniform and carrying a tray of champagne, and dared him to marry the hottest girl in the room just to make Audrey regret leaving. Vincent walked right up to me and offered a contract marriage. I looked at his expensive watch, did the math, and agreed on the spot. My only condition: he covered every single cent of Hans’s medical care. Vincent had more money than God. He signed the check without blinking. We got the license the next morning. After that, I treated him like royalty. I learned his favorite foods, massaged his shoulders after long meetings, and curated his entire life. Vincent, who was used to chasing women who treated him like garbage, fell entirely into the trap of my perfect domestic bliss. Slowly, the contract lines blurred. We started living like a real couple. He visited Hans in the hospital with me, cracking jokes and paying for the best doctors. I actually thought we were building a real family. But the fantasy shattered a year ago. Audrey returned. After four years of marriage, Vincent dropped me like a used toy and ran straight back to her. When I finally broke down and asked him to stay, he practically threw the original contract in my face. “Mindy, I told you from day one not to interfere with my private life. You married me to save your brother. Stop acting like you are dying of a broken heart.” Those words were like a bucket of ice water to the face. I cursed myself for being so stupid, for letting myself believe a billionaire could actually love a desperate waitress. I was nothing but a convenient distraction. Once I accepted reality, I locked my heart in a steel box and went back to being the perfect employee. As long as he paid the hospital bills, he could do whatever he wanted. Love was a luxury I could not afford. When Audrey came back, she realized she had competition and dropped her hard-to-get act. Vincent caught her with zero effort. His friends warned him that Audrey’s family business was under investigation and she was likely using him, but Vincent refused to listen. He flaunted her all over town. And now, he wanted to send her to an apartment and pretend the last year never happened? I felt a wave of pure exhaustion. You do not invite a stray dog to pee all over the living room rug and then expect me to walk barefoot on it. 6 I started ghosting him. I would cook dinner, leave it in the warmer, and escape to the hospital to sit with Hans. One evening, I was sitting by Hans’s bed, peeling an apple, when the heavy door swung open. Vincent walked in. And right behind him was Audrey. The moment Hans saw her, his eyes turned absolutely lethal. I quickly placed a hand over his, squeezing gently. I do not care anymore, so you should not either. Vincent pulled up a chair next to me, awkwardly explaining that Audrey had insisted on coming to pay her respects. He tried to ask Hans about the new medical device, but Hans just turned his head toward the window, refusing to acknowledge him. Vincent looked at me, thoroughly embarrassed. I instantly scolded Hans, forcing him to mutter a half-hearted greeting. I could not risk Hans offending the man paying the million-dollar bills. I quickly sliced a piece of apple and held it up to Vincent’s mouth. “Here, hubby. Have a bite. It is really sweet.” Vincent took the apple, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “Mindy… Audrey has some legal issues to sort out back in Europe. I need to fly over there with her for a few weeks to help her get things settled.” Audrey stood behind him, crossing her arms with a smug, victorious grin. “Okay. Have a safe flight.” I waved my hand dismissively, not even looking up from the apple. Vincent stared at me. His eyes were frantic, searching my face for jealousy, anger, anything. “Mindy, do you really not have anything else to say to me?” I finally looked up, meeting his gaze with total emptiness. “Make sure you pack a heavy coat. It rains a lot over there.” Vincent’s jaw clenched in absolute fury. He grabbed Audrey by the arm and stormed out of the hospital room. “Mindy, are you okay?” Hans’s voice was hoarse, his eyes shining with guilt. “You idiot. I am perfectly fine.” Seeing Hans bite his lip, fighting back tears, broke something deep inside my chest. I gave the night nurse strict instructions to watch his monitors and finally headed home. That night, I fell into a deep sleep, only to be jolted awake by a terrifying, suffocating panic in my chest. I sat bolt upright, gasping for air. My forehead was slick with cold sweat. Right on cue, my phone started screaming on the nightstand. It was the hospital. I drove through the empty city streets like a ghost. Everything felt muffled, like I was trapped underwater. It was not until I walked into the glaring fluorescent lights of the ICU and saw the crisp white sheet pulled over Hans’s face that the world slammed back into focus. “Miss Mindy. We are so incredibly sorry. He waited until the shift change…” The head doctor was talking, apologizing, but all I heard was white noise. Hans had managed to reach the wires of his life-support monitors. He pulled them out, one by one, while the nurses were down the hall. He had to have been terrified. I stood in total silence, methodically packing his few belongings into a plastic bag. Five years. Hans had hated being trapped in that bed for five years. His bright smiles, his sarcastic jokes—it was all an act to keep me from breaking. But I was selfish. I kept him anchored to that bed because I could not bear to lose the only family I had left in the world. Now, he was finally free. I buried Hans’s ashes next to our parents, making sure he had the best spot under a massive oak tree so he would never be lonely. When I got back to the empty, echoing mansion, I sat on the floor in the dark and pulled out Hans’s cracked smartphone. I traced my thumb over the screen, finally typing in the passcode. It was my birthday. The phone unlocked. Right there on the home screen was an unsent audio memo. I pressed play.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “504158”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The year Todd cheated on me with my best friend. He endlessly bombarded me with photos of them in bed, trying to force me to admit that I had slept with my male colleague, Oliver, in a hotel room. When he sent the hundredth video, it was right before the holiday weekend. He didn’t even bother looking at the camera. “Mrs. Waldorf, I guess your boring little coworker didn’t satisfy you, huh?” My supposed best friend, Chloe, leaned into his chest. “Todd, how long do you think Phoebe can keep up this tough act?” Todd proposed a bet. “I bet she won’t even last until the holiday. She will get dumped, and then she will come crawling back, begging for my forgiveness.” “Phoebe, if you refuse to lower your head, you can just wear this green hat forever.” The truth was, during a business trip, I got completely drunk at a networking dinner, and Oliver was just responsible for safely escorting me back to the hotel. But Todd, who had secretly bought a ticket to surprise me for my birthday, saw us and completely convinced himself we were having an affair. On the day of the holiday, Todd ran into Oliver on the street. He had his arm wrapped tightly around Chloe. Thinking he had already won his bet, Todd immediately let out a mocking laugh. “Where is Phoebe? Did you already dump that pathetic bitch?” Oliver threw a violent punch, catching Todd squarely in the jaw. “Todd, do you have a single shred of humanity left in you?! Phoebe has been dead for a month!” 1 “Oliver, are you seriously making up a story about her being dead just to cover for her?” Todd turned his head and wiped a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth. Passersby on the sidewalk turned to stare. Oliver was shaking violently with rage. He grabbed Todd by the collar of his custom shirt. “Todd, are you even human?! Her ashes are already cold!” “When she died, she was alone in a hospital bed, in so much agonizing pain that she literally bit her own lips to shreds!” “And what the hell are you doing?! You are out here buying designer bags with this whore!” Todd let out a cold, dismissive sneer. “You put on a pretty good show.” “How much money did Phoebe pay you to put on this psychotic act in public?” He casually took off his tailored suit jacket and draped it over Chloe, who was pretending to shiver next to him. “Todd, please don’t be mad at Oliver.” Chloe seized the opportunity to lean deeper into his embrace, her eyes turning slightly red. “Phoebe just wants to make you jealous. She loves you so much, how could she possibly die?” Todd wrapped his arm firmly around her waist. “Alright, that is enough. Go back and tell Phoebe this whole ‘playing hard to get’ routine is pathetic.” “Faking her own death to force me to apologize? Tell her to keep dreaming.” He didn’t spare Oliver another glance. He just turned and walked toward his Maybach parked on the curb. I hovered in the air, silently watching this exact scene play out. The agonizing, tearing pain of terminal stomach cancer seemed to still linger in the depths of my soul. But watching Todd completely convinced that I was just throwing a tantrum, I didn’t feel a single ripple of emotion. A month ago, I drew my last breath on a freezing operating table. At that moment, I genuinely believed death would be the ultimate release. But I never expected my soul to be trapped beside Todd. I was forced to watch him continue dragging my dignity through the mud. Inside the quiet cabin of the Maybach, Todd leaned back against the leather seat and closed his eyes to rest. The neon city lights blurred past the windows. “Todd, do you think Phoebe took the joke a bit too far this time?” Chloe probed carefully, tracing circles on his chest with her manicured finger. “Having someone tell you she is dead is such bad luck. What if something actually happened to her?” “What could possibly happen to her?” Todd didn’t even open his eyes. “She is a useless parasite who can’t survive a single day without me. What else is she capable of besides using these cheap stunts to get attention?” “I bet you right now, before midnight tonight, she will come crawling back to the villa and drop to her knees to apologize.” I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. He was right. The old me loved Todd so much that I completely lost my own identity. Just because he once said “I will take care of you,” I willingly gave up my career to become a full-time housewife. Even when he subjected me to months of cold, psychological torture, I only responded with pathetic attempts to please him. Even on the exact day I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, I was so excited to rush home and cook him a special dinner. Only to open the bedroom door and find him rolling around on our marital bed with Chloe. The Maybach pulled into the driveway of our hillside mansion. Todd pushed the front door open, and his eyes immediately landed on the entryway console table. A blue package was sitting right there. It was something I begged a nurse to mail for me right before I died. Inside was a scarf I had knitted, stitch by agonizing stitch, while enduring the absolute hell of chemotherapy. And a farewell letter. Todd’s brow instantly furrowed in annoyance. “What is this?” Chloe quickly stepped ahead of him, read the sender’s name, and a malicious glint flashed in her eyes. “Todd, it is a package from Phoebe.” The image of Oliver walking me back to that hotel room flashed in Todd’s mind. “Throw it out. Do not let it dirty my floors.” He turned and headed straight up the stairs toward the master bathroom. The sound of running water echoed a minute later. Chloe stared at the package, her eyes burning with toxic jealousy. She found a pair of scissors and sliced through the packing tape. A thick blue scarf tumbled out, and tucked inside the folds was a plain white envelope. Chloe pulled the letter out. I floated right behind her, watching as her eyes scanned the suicide note I left behind. The letter read: [Todd, by the time you read this, I will no longer be in this world.] [Do you remember our first anniversary? You clung to me like a little kid, begging me to personally knit you a blue scarf.] [I was so clumsy. I knitted and unraveled it a hundred times. By the time I was diagnosed with cancer, I forced myself through the agonizing pain of chemo just to finally finish it.] [The scarf is finished. It is just a shame we don’t love each other anymore.] Chloe’s hand trembled. She aggressively crumpled the letter into a tight ball and shoved it deep into her own pocket. The bathroom door opened. Todd walked out drying his hair with a towel, and his eyes immediately fell on the blue scarf. He froze for a second. I saw a brief, fleeting moment of nostalgia pass through his eyes. On our first anniversary, he had held me tight in the snow, pouting. “Phoebe, all the other guys have scarves knitted by their girlfriends. I want one too.” Back then, his eyes were filled with nothing but me. But now, he looked at that scarf with absolute, undisguised disgust. “Todd…” Chloe practically skipped over and intentionally kicked the scarf across the floor. “Phoebe is so annoying. She knows you absolutely hate cheap, handmade garbage like this.” She covered her mouth and let out a soft laugh. Her tone was dripping with pure malice. “And I actually heard she knitted the exact same one for her male coworker at the studio.” Todd’s face instantly turned dark like a thundercloud. He didn’t hesitate. He snatched the scarf off the floor and violently shoved it deep into the nearest trash can. “Tell the security guards at the gate, any future packages from Phoebe get thrown directly into the dumpster.” “She disgusts me.” 2 The next morning, Chloe sat in the passenger seat, looking at Todd with her most delicate, innocent expression as he drove. “Todd, are you really going to repossess Phoebe’s design studio? Won’t she be really angry?” Todd’s eyes were completely dead. “Since she wants to play hide-and-seek, I will just destroy everything she cares about.” “Let’s see how long she can keep up this tough act.” The car pulled up in front of my studio, the place where I had poured all my blood, sweat, and passion. Todd leaned back in his leather seat and lit a cigarette. Several heavy-set bodyguards immediately stormed into the studio. The sickening sound of things being smashed echoed into the street. I floated in the air, watching coldly as my expensive fabrics were violently torn to shreds. The workers took the design sketches I had spent countless sleepless nights drawing and threw them directly into the muddy puddles on the street. Todd sat in his car, quietly watching the absolute destruction through the tinted window. He smoked his cigarette very slowly. As he watched the main sign forcefully ripped down from the exterior wall, his gaze darkened slightly. He remembered the days when we were childhood sweethearts. Back then, just to spend a few extra minutes with me, he willingly stood in the freezing wind an hour early every single day to wait for me. He was always eager to be my personal bag carrier, his eyes filled with nothing but pure, unfiltered love. But now, every single drop of that love had completely evaporated. He exhaled a long cloud of gray smoke. “Stop! What the hell are you doing?!” Oliver rushed forward, completely losing control as he violently shoved the bodyguards who were smashing my equipment. “Get the hell away! This is Phoebe’s life’s work!” He threw himself over a drafting table, desperately shielding a sketch of a wedding dress. Todd sat in the car. He didn’t even bother opening his door. He just found Oliver’s desperate display of devotion incredibly irritating. “Throw him out.” The bodyguards immediately swarmed forward and grabbed Oliver by his collar. Oliver clung to that sketch like his life depended on it. In the chaos, one of the bodyguards delivered a brutal kick directly to Oliver’s knee. Oliver lost his balance and crashed hard down the concrete steps. He curled up on the pavement in agonizing pain, clutching his arm. The sketch he had tried so hard to protect drifted onto the ground next to him. A bodyguard wearing heavy leather boots stepped on it without a second thought. He ground the sole of his boot deep into the muddy puddle, completely destroying the drawing. “No…” Oliver gasped out. That was the surprise I was planning to give Todd for our wedding anniversary. It was a sketch of a custom wedding dress and suit I had designed specifically for us. It was a shame he would never know. Watching Oliver suffer in absolute agony, I felt a crushing wave of guilt. He was just a kind coworker, yet my toxic mess had dragged him down to this. Todd finally rolled down his tinted window. His eyes were full of arrogant contempt. “Is that all it takes to break you?” Todd flicked his half-smoked cigarette butt directly at Oliver’s feet. “Go back and tell Phoebe, if she thinks hiring her little boy toy to play the victim is going to make me feel sorry for her, she is dead wrong.” Oliver was sweating profusely from the pain. He glared at Todd, grinding his teeth. “Todd, you are going to rot in hell for this!” “Rot in hell?” Todd let out a loud, mocking laugh. He genuinely found the threat hilarious. “What right do you have to judge me? Phoebe is the one who cheated! She abandoned me first!” “Tell her if she doesn’t drag her ass back home by tomorrow, I am sending bulldozers to level her parents’ old house.” As soon as Todd stepped back into his executive office, Chloe walked in carrying a cup of hand-ground coffee. “Todd, look at Phoebe’s social media. It looks like she is on vacation on some tropical island.” She casually slid an iPad across his massive desk. On the screen was a screenshot of a private social media post. The location tag was an exotic overseas island. In the background of the photo, the back of a man was visible, lounging on a beach chair. The caption read: [Finally free from the chains. My new life is amazing.] 3 Todd stared intensely at the man’s back in the photo. “She took my money and went off to screw some guy on a beach?” Chloe gently placed her hand over his and let out a soft, pitying sigh. “Todd, please don’t be mad. Phoebe is probably just confused and getting scammed by some random guy.” “After all, she gave up so much for you in the past. She probably just wants to experience something exciting now.” Every single word out of her mouth was calculated to pour gasoline on Todd’s rage. I floated near the ceiling, staring at the blatantly photoshopped image. I had permanently deleted that account months ago. To deepen Todd’s hatred for me, Chloe was actually resorting to these pathetic, psychotic tactics. Todd snatched the receiver off his desk phone. “Get the Director of Finance in my office! Right now!” Less than three minutes later, the finance director sprinted into the office, completely out of breath. “Mr. Waldorf, what do you need?” Todd leaned back heavily in his leather chair. “Instantly freeze every single credit card and supplementary account under Phoebe’s name.” “And use our corporate override clearance to forcibly sever all cash flow to her private checking account.” The finance director froze, his face turning pale with hesitation. “Sir, that private account is not registered under the company. Forcibly cutting it off could trigger massive breach of contract lawsuits…” “I told you to cut it off! Do not give me excuses!” “If there is fallout, I will handle it! I want to make sure she cannot spend a single cent!” Terrified, the director nodded frantically and ran out of the office to execute the order. He had absolutely no idea what freezing that account actually meant. That account was my final lifeline. It held the money I was using to pay the final installments for my cemetery plot. Last month, when I was completely bedridden and dying, the hospital constantly pressured me to pay for my incredibly expensive cancer medication. With trembling, bruised hands, I tried to swipe that exact card. The machine just flashed red: Account Frozen by Primary Holder. That was Todd’s first punishment. He did it to force me to apologize to Chloe. I spent that entire night rolling on the freezing hospital floor in agonizing pain. I dug my fingernails into the plaster wall until they bled, but I couldn’t even afford to buy a single painkiller. Now, he was trying to destroy the only peace I had left after death. Chloe stood by his side, a toxic, triumphant smirk playing on her lips. She understood Todd perfectly. All she had to do was poke at his massive ego, and he would completely lose his mind. “Phoebe, you think you can play games with me? You are way out of your league.” He muttered the words to the empty room. “When you are starving on the streets with absolutely nothing, we will see how long it takes for you to come begging.” Chloe walked behind his chair and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Todd, please don’t waste your energy being angry at someone so worthless. Let’s go buy some pretty dresses tonight, okay?” Todd patted her hand, his tone softening considerably. “Alright. Whatever you want.” The holiday weekend officially ended. There was still absolutely no word from me. Todd’s patience completely ran out. “Mr. Waldorf, the divorce petition is finalized. Once you sign it, Mrs. Waldorf will be forced to leave with absolutely nothing.” Inside the law firm’s pristine conference room, the senior partner respectfully slid a thick legal document across the table. Todd felt his absolute authority was being challenged. Since I wanted to play a disappearing game, he was going to unilaterally terminate the marriage. He was suing me for corporate embezzlement, vowing to bury me under a mountain of inescapable debt. “Factor all the cheap jewelry under her name into the financial damages.” “I want her thrown out of my world without a single penny to her name.” The lawyer nodded aggressively and flipped to the signature page. Just as the tip of Todd’s expensive fountain pen touched the paper. The heavy glass doors of the conference room were violently pushed open. Oliver walked in. He looked completely dead inside, hollowed out by grief. His arm was still in a cast, and he had lost so much weight he looked like a skeleton. Todd stopped writing. His brow locked in a furious scowl. “What the hell is security doing? How did this piece of garbage get in here?” Oliver did not charge forward to throw a punch like last time. He simply walked up to the table and gently placed a heavy, black-and-white picture frame directly on top of the divorce petition. Inside the frame, was me. In the photo, I looked like a walking corpse. My hair had thinned out entirely from the chemo. My cheeks were sunken deep into my skull, my skin the color of ash. The eyes that used to look at Todd with absolute devotion were now hollow, staring blankly into nothing. Todd stared at the black-and-white photo and let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Oliver, do you honestly think photoshopping a fake memorial portrait is going to scare me?” “The editing is pathetic. Phoebe could never look this ugly.” He reached out to forcefully push the frame off the table. Oliver cut him off, his voice dead. “This is her actual memorial portrait. She doesn’t have any family left. I am organizing her funeral tomorrow.” “Before she passed, she told me she never wanted you to see her looking this sick.” “But honestly? I think you deserve to stare at it for the rest of your miserable life.” Todd’s hand froze in mid-air. “Stop lying to my face! Tell her to drag her ass out here and face me!” Todd roared, completely losing his temper. Right at that exact second, his cell phone, which was sitting on the table, started vibrating violently. The screen displayed an official government hotline number. The voice on the other end echoed loudly through the room. “Hello, am I speaking to Mr. Todd Waldorf?” “Speaking.” Todd’s voice was tight with rage. “This is the joint hotline for the Department of Civil Affairs and the Municipal Crematorium.” The operator paused for a second before delivering the cold, hard facts. “The legal holding period for the remains of Ms. Phoebe Waldorf has expired. As a result, the body has been cremated under the protocol for unclaimed deceased persons.” “As her legally registered spouse, you are required to bring your marriage certificate and identification to claim her ashes as soon as possible.” The expensive fountain pen slipped from Todd’s fingers and hit the floor. “Mr. Waldorf, the remains of Ms. Phoebe Waldorf have been cremated under the unclaimed deceased protocol. Please bring your marriage certificate to claim her ashes.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “504159”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Martha, our usually quiet and dutiful nanny, stood outside the nursery today and absolutely refused to leave. “Mrs. Waldorf, there is something I really hate to bring up.” “But I have spent my entire personal savings over the last two months covering things. I honestly do not have a single dollar left to buy formula for tomorrow.” I looked at her in total shock. “Didn’t Arthur give you the VIP baby boutique card I loaded with ten thousand dollars?” “A VIP card?” Martha froze, nervously twisting the hem of her apron. “Mr. Waldorf never gave me any card.” “At first, I paid for the formula and diapers out of pocket, and he would reimburse me. But lately, he keeps saying things are tight at the clinic. He either stalls or tells me he will settle up next week.” “I figured you are a respectable family and would never stiff me over baby supplies. But it has been two months, and I am out over two thousand dollars…” Hearing this, my face burned with intense humiliation. I immediately transferred three thousand dollars to Martha’s account without asking another question. Martha thanked me profusely and went to the kitchen to prep the bottles. I just stood in the hallway, my blood running completely cold. That card was a premium membership for an exclusive baby boutique, and it was linked directly to my phone number. Over the past two months, I had received more than fifty notifications for transactions on that account. Every single one was over a hundred dollars. If the card was not with our nanny, who exactly had it? Arthur was the youngest department head at the city hospital. In the eyes of all our relatives, he was the flawless, perfect husband. On Martha’s very first day working for us, I specifically handed Arthur that pre-loaded VIP card. I told him to drop it off with Martha and make sure all the baby’s supplies were charged to it. He took the card, slipped it casually into his suit pocket, and gave me a gentle smile. “Leave it to me, honey. I will handle things around the house. You just focus on resting and recovering from the delivery.” Yet here I was, hearing from Martha that she had never even seen the plastic. While I was trying to process this, I heard the front door open. Arthur was home from his shift. “Hey honey. Martha mentioned you never gave her that baby card? She has been paying for the formula out of pocket for two months.” I kept my voice entirely casual as I probed him. Arthur was hanging up his coat. His movements completely stopped for a second before he let out an awkward, forced laugh. “Oh, right. That.” “We had that massive flu outbreak at the hospital a while back. Pediatric care drafted me to help out. I was so exhausted I must have left it in one of my lab coats.” “I will dig through my locker tomorrow. The second I find it, I will give it to her.” “Don’t worry about it,” I said, closing my laptop. “I will just go to the boutique tomorrow, report it lost, and get a replacement.” “Don’t do that!” Arthur spun around instantly. His voice was entirely too loud. Seeing me stare at him with narrowed eyes, he quickly softened his tone. “I just mean there is a lot of money on that account. The replacement process is a massive headache, and it takes days to process.” “I guarantee it is just sitting in a drawer at the clinic. Let me look for it. I will definitely find it.” He walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist. “You just got off bed rest. You finally have some color back in your face. Don’t stress yourself out over something so trivial.” “Look at you. You have been exhausting yourself with the baby. You even have dark circles under your eyes.” “Do I?” “Yeah. When you were pregnant, your face was so full and glowing. You looked amazing.” He buttered me up and expertly changed the subject. I let the VIP card issue drop for the moment. But around ten o’clock that night, the baby suddenly broke out in a diaper rash, and we were completely out of his prescription cream. “Honey, I am taking your car to the pharmacy. Mine is still at the dealership for maintenance.” I shouted toward the bathroom. “Sure, keys are on the console,” Arthur replied, his voice muffled by the running shower. I got into his SUV and reached down to adjust the driver’s seat out of pure habit. My fingertips brushed against something weird tucked deep in the crevice between the leather seats. It felt like a small, slippery plastic wrapper. I pulled it out, and my breathing completely stopped. 2 It was a small, pink, lace-trimmed disposable nursing pad. It was torn open and half-used, with a highly suspicious milk stain dried onto the fabric. I knew for an absolute fact that this did not belong to me. Due to medical complications after birth, I never produced milk. We had used formula since day one. I had absolutely zero use for a product like this. Martha’s words from earlier today flashed through my mind, followed immediately by the mystery of the missing baby card. I abandoned the pharmacy trip completely. I slammed my foot on the gas and drove straight to that high-end baby boutique. Marching up to the customer service desk, I slammed my phone down on the glass counter, displaying the long list of transaction alerts. “Get your manager out here right now!” “I have not used this card a single time since I activated it. Why are you continually charging my account? Are your employees stealing customer information?” “If I do not get an explanation right this second, I am calling the police!” The store manager rushed out, looking absolutely terrified. He waved his hands frantically to calm me down. “Ma’am, I promise you that is impossible! We require the physical card for every single transaction!” “Talk is cheap. Pull the transaction logs and the security footage. Show me who used it, or I am dialing 911.” I stood my ground. Desperate to prove his store’s innocence, the manager took me straight into the security room. We matched the timestamps of the latest charges to the video feed. I finally saw the person using my money. It was a young woman wearing a loose-fitting maternity dress. She had been in the store just yesterday afternoon, loading up bags of expensive items. When she turned her face toward the camera, I got a crystal-clear look at her features. My entire body turned to stone. I knew her. She was the newly hired nurse in Arthur’s department. Bella. I had chatted with her at the hospital’s holiday gala. She had practically fawned over me, calling me “Mrs. Waldorf” in the sweetest, most innocent voice imaginable. I recorded the security footage on my phone and walked out of the boutique with a face like ice. When I pushed my front door open, Arthur was sitting in the living room playing with our sleeping baby. I walked straight up to him and shoved my phone directly into his face. I played the video of Bella at the checkout counter. “Why does a nurse from your department have my VIP card? Didn’t you say you left it in your lab coat?” The second Arthur saw the screen, all the blood drained from his face. He froze for several agonizing seconds. His eyes darted around the room as he stuttered uncontrollably. “I… I have no idea… I…” “Oh!” He slapped his forehead dramatically, acting like a lightbulb had just gone off. “Wow, I know exactly what happened.” “Last month, the hospital organized a charity drive for staff members struggling financially. Bella is actually a single mother. Her boyfriend bailed on her, and she has been having a really hard time managing a pregnancy alone.” “As the department head, I had to set an example.” “I must have accidentally slipped that card into the donation envelope instead of cash. She probably thought it was an official hospital grant and just started using it.” “Honestly, Bella should have known better. A card with that kind of limit? She really should have verified it with me first…” His facial expressions were so incredibly convincing. The sheer regret in his eyes almost made me doubt my own sanity for a second. But then I remembered the stained nursing pad hidden in his car. I stayed completely silent and just stared at him. Desperate to prove his innocence, he pulled out his phone and opened his department group chat. “Look, honey. The charity notice went out early last month.” The chat log did indeed show an initiative to raise funds for Bella. “I didn’t even give her the envelope directly. I had the head nurse pass it along. I barely speak to Bella outside of work. I swear to you, I am completely innocent.” “If you do not believe me, I will call the head nurse right now on speakerphone.” He aggressively jammed his thumb toward the dial button. 3 I grabbed his wrist and pinned his hand down. I shot him a freezing glare. “Enough. I believe you.” “Since it is just a misunderstanding, you need to get the card back tomorrow. It is pretty bold of her to max out a ten-thousand-dollar card.” “Absolutely! I will demand it back the second I clock in!” Arthur exhaled loudly, practically wiping sweat from his forehead. Watching him hurry away to the bathroom, a dark, lethal coldness settled in my eyes. I did not believe a single word he said. The image of that nursing wrapper in his car was permanently burned into my brain. We had been together since college. Seven long years. A part of me was desperately fighting the reality that he could be this kind of monster. I did not sleep a wink that night. The next morning, I left the house early, my face pale and exhausted. But I did not go to my office. I drove straight to a high-end private investigation firm and paid a small fortune to have Arthur and Bella followed. For the first few days, the photos and videos Detective Brooks sent back were perfectly normal. Arthur was either seeing patients, attending board meetings, or doing his rounds. His interactions with Bella were strictly limited to handing off patient charts. His behavior was so professional you couldn’t find a single flaw in it. I actually started to wonder if I was just suffering from postpartum paranoia. Then, at three o’clock on Friday afternoon, Detective Brooks sent me an urgent voice note. He spoke incredibly fast. “Mrs. Waldorf, we caught the big fish! Get to the GPS coordinates I just dropped you. Now!” I grabbed my keys and floored the gas pedal. I arrived at an ultra-exclusive private club in the center of the city. With the detective running interference, I quietly slipped into a semi-private booth on the second floor. I stood completely still. Only a thin, decorative privacy screen separated me from Arthur’s table. The second I stopped moving, Arthur’s familiar voice drifted through the wooden slats. It dripped with a sleazy, desperate lust I had never heard before. “Baby, I have been going crazy for you all week.” “I don’t know what got into my ugly wife, but she suddenly started asking questions about the baby card. I was so paranoid I couldn’t even look at you in the clinic.” Immediately after, Bella’s sickeningly sweet, whiny voice chimed in. “Oh Arthur, when are you going to kick her out? I am so sick of waddling around the hospital pretending to be your subordinate. It is humiliating.” “And since you took the VIP card back, who is going to pay for our son’s formula?” “Soon, baby, soon.” I heard the wet sound of Arthur kissing her cheek. “As soon as I manipulate her into signing over her company shares, I am throwing her out on the street.” A revolting series of wet, sloppy kissing noises followed. About twenty minutes later, just as I was about to lose my mind and kick the screen down, their heavy breathing finally stopped. During that half hour, my heart felt like it was being shoved through a meat grinder. The shock morphed into agonizing pain, then into total numbness, until absolutely nothing was left but pure, toxic hatred. But the conversation that followed made me hate them even more. “It is Friday. You know the drill. Let’s head back to my place, take a hot shower together, and I will make you feel real good.” “You are so bad. Hey, that expensive imported saffron you stole from her kitchen and made for me last week? My skin has been glowing. Did she notice?” “Hell no. She is completely obsessed with that annoying, crying brat of hers. She doesn’t notice anything.” “Good. She should consider it a blessing that she gets to contribute to the healthy baby boy growing in my stomach. Hahaha.” Snap. My expensive acrylic nail broke clean off, digging a bloody crescent into my palm. My stomach churned violently. I bit down on my lower lip so hard I tasted copper, forcing myself to swallow the bile rising in my throat. Every Friday afternoon, I went to a postpartum recovery center for physical therapy. I never imagined my medical routine would become the perfect, scheduled window for my husband to cheat on me. What made me want to vomit the most was that they were using my beautifully decorated, custom-built home as their free motel. And Bella’s supposed “single mother charity case” was actually carrying Arthur’s illegitimate child. The thought of them rolling around on the expensive mattress I personally picked out, leaving their filth everywhere, made me want to kick the door down and butcher them both. Animals. Absolute scum. I wanted them dead. Sensing that my eyes were bloodshot and I was seconds away from committing murder, Detective Brooks grabbed my shoulder and whispered urgently in my ear. “Hold on. Keep it together, Mrs. Waldorf. You have to keep your cool.” “We have absolute proof of the affair now. You can destroy them a hundred different ways.” “But if you charge in there and start swinging now, you will tip your hand. You lose the element of surprise.” Hearing his logic, I dug my nails deeper into my palms and forced the rage down into the pit of my stomach. I had to endure this. I needed to ensure these two parasites lost everything and never recovered. I waited in the shadows until they got dressed, acting all lovey-dovey as they walked out to their cars. Then, I pulled out my phone and called Martha. “Martha, are your two nephews who work at the meatpacking plant free today?” “Tell them to be at my house at four o’clock sharp. I need them to handle something for me. I will pay them five hundred dollars each.” Next, I opened my messaging app and started firing off group texts. The first one went to my parents and my mother-in-law. [Hey everyone, we are throwing an impromptu family BBQ at the house this afternoon. Come over, let’s eat some great food and catch up.] The final text went to Dr. Webber, the director of Arthur’s hospital. Two years ago, to guarantee Arthur’s promotion, I used my father’s corporate account to donate millions of dollars in imported MRI machines to their hospital. Whenever Dr. Webber saw me, he treated me like absolute royalty. [Dr. Webber, I am hosting a small gathering at my home today. I would love for you to drop by for a drink. We can discuss the new fleet of ambulances my company is planning to donate next year.] Every single person replied with an enthusiastic yes. 4 At four o’clock sharp, I pulled into my gated community. Martha and two massive, heavily muscled guys were waiting by the entrance. We walked through the garden path together. When we reached the front porch, my parents, my mother-in-law, and Dr. Webber—who had canceled a board meeting to be here—were already standing on the steps. “I have been ringing the bell for ten minutes. Why is nobody answering?” my dad grumbled, his brow furrowed. “Seriously. Serena invites the elders over and doesn’t even have the decency to open the door. So disrespectful,” my mother-in-law sneered, her toxic comments making my parents’ faces darken. “Serena just took over a huge project at the company. She is probably stuck in traffic. Let me call her,” my mom interjected, trying to keep the peace. “Absolutely. Young executives like Mrs. Waldorf are doing big things. Waiting a few minutes is not a problem at all,” Dr. Webber chimed in with a polite smile. But my mother-in-law refused to let it go. She loved picking fights. “Oh, Dr. Webber. You are the hospital director, your patience is just so admirable.” “Unlike my daughter-in-law. She thinks having some family money gives her the right to look down on everyone. She runs around town all day and can’t even give my son an heir.” “If it weren’t for my Arthur having the patience of a saint and being a highly respected doctor, no man would ever put up with her terrible attitude.” Dr. Webber forced a dry laugh and smartly kept his mouth shut. My parents looked furious. My mom actually took a step forward, ready to tear the woman apart. Terrified they would start screaming and alert the two animals screwing inside, I quickly stepped up, my heels clicking loudly against the stone path. “Why is everyone standing outside? Arthur is already home.” Seeing me arrive, the group parted to let me through to the door. “We rang the bell forever. Nobody answered. Arthur is probably asleep,” my dad said coldly. “My son works so hard saving lives in surgery. He is definitely exhausted and sleeping heavily,” my mother-in-law defended him defensively. She quickly turned her venom back on me. “You really need to start taking better care of Arthur, Serena. He is the provider of this family…” I ignored her absolute BS. I pressed my thumb against the biometric scanner on the front door. A loud beep echoed, and the deadbolt clicked open. The second I pushed the heavy oak door open an inch, a violent force slammed against it from the inside, trying to force it shut. “Who is it?!” Arthur’s voice roared from the foyer, thick with sheer panic. “Honey, it’s me. I finished work early. I invited my parents, your mom, and Dr. Webber over for a party.” I kept my voice bright and cheerful, but I shoved my weight hard against the wood. “No! Wait! Serena, stop!” Arthur was throwing his entire body weight against the door. His voice was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. “A pipe burst in the hallway! It is a complete mess! Give me ten minutes to clean it up!” “Arthur, what is wrong with you? Dr. Webber is standing right here. Open the damn door!” My mother-in-law cared deeply about her public image. Embarrassed by his behavior, she stepped up and started pushing on the door with me. I took a step back, looked at the two massive guys from the meatpacking plant, and tilted my chin toward the entrance. “Bust it open. I will cover any damages.” The two heavy hitters didn’t hesitate. They stepped up, dropped their shoulders, and rammed the door with explosive force. A deafening crash shook the frame. The heavy door blasted inward. Arthur let out a pathetic scream as he was launched backward, crashing hard onto the hardwood floor. He was completely naked, desperately clutching a tiny white towel over his waist. His face was the color of a ghost. Everyone rushed into the foyer. The living room was an absolute disaster zone. A pair of ripped black lace panties was thrown casually over the sofa. Several empty wine bottles and half-filled glasses littered the expensive coffee table. Used condom wrappers were scattered across the luxury rug. The air was thick with the sickening smell of cheap perfume and sweat. “Oh my god! Did someone break in?!” my mother-in-law shrieked. She stared at the disgusting mess, her eyes practically bulging out of her skull. Arthur scrambled backward on his hands and knees, dripping with nervous sweat. He stammered out the most pathetic excuse imaginable. “No… no break-in.” “I was… I was doing a highly sensitive medical experiment by myself… I accidentally knocked over some chemical reagents… I… I didn’t have time to clean it up.” “A solo medical experiment?” I let out a sharp, cold laugh. I walked over to the sofa and picked up the black lace lingerie. It was the exact set Bella had been wearing. I dangled the tiny scrap of fabric right in front of Arthur’s sweating face. “Honey, you were doing a medical experiment wearing this?” The entire room went dead silent.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “504160”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I was the only son of the Sinclair dynasty, with three older sisters who adored me without question. Life was perfect until a strange, glitchy memo app appeared on my phone. June 15: Victoria signs a blind liability guarantee for her male assistant. Sinclair Group loses ten billion in market value overnight. September 3: Josefina is framed by her toxic ex, voted off the board, and stripped of all equity. December 1: Megan gives up her trust fund to elope with a deadbeat, bankrupting the family. I stared at the screen. My three billionaire safety nets were about to disappear. From that day, I launched the Save My Wallet protocol. I took Victoria’s black card and spent four million dollars in one afternoon. She spent two days handling fraud alerts and luxury returns. I flew Josefina’s private jet to Paris, ripped out the custom leather interior, and demanded a full remodel. She was so furious she forced me into an eight-hour transatlantic video call micromanaging the redesign. I turned Megan’s climate-controlled wine cellar into a frat party, popping million-dollar vintages just to spray them at the walls. I kept them too busy and sleep-deprived to check their phones, let alone ruin their lives over men. As long as Cole Sinclair was around, their world revolved around me. Everything was perfect until Silas appeared in Victoria’s executive office. He looked at me, voice smooth but eyes icy. “Little brother, the executive floor isn’t a playground. Run along and play somewhere else.” The lounge fell silent. The most aggressively protective CEO in the city was about to walk through those doors. … I still had half a garlic butter lobster roll in my hand. I hadn’t even swallowed my last bite. There were five people in the executive lounge. Even the newest staffer had been with my sister for at least six years. Right now, their expressions were completely identical. A painful, agonizing conflict of wanting to speak up but being terrified of saying the wrong thing. Nancy, the admin coordinator, was the first one to crack. She let out a dry, awkward laugh. “Silas, this is Ms. Sinclair’s…” “I know. He’s the CEO’s little brother.” Silas cut her off without even looking her way. The way he said little brother had a slight upward lilt to it. It dripped with a very subtle, very deliberate disrespect. “But even a little brother shouldn’t be treating the executive suite like a food court.” “That lobster roll smells incredibly strong. What happens if a high-level client walks in?” He glanced at the greasy takeout box in front of me, his brow furrowing in distaste. “Besides, it’s my first day. The rules of this office need to be established.” “When Ms. Sinclair isn’t here, day-to-day operations fall under my jurisdiction.” He smiled, tilting his head at me like he was coaxing a toddler having a tantrum. “Be a good boy. Pack up your snacks, and I’ll have reception call you a black car to take you home. How does that sound?” Nancy started panicking, her voice pitching up half an octave. “Silas, you really don’t understand the situation. Ms. Sinclair had this lounge specifically built for…” “It doesn’t matter who it was built for.” Silas turned his head, his tone still perfectly gentle. But every single word carried an undeniable, heavy weight. “Nancy, you’ve been with Ms. Sinclair for a long time. You should know better than anyone that the executive office is the face of the entire corporation.” “A kid sitting in here stuffing his face with greasy seafood… if word gets out, how does that make the Sinclair Group look?” Fiona, the Director of Operations, set her coffee mug down and finally couldn’t hold back. “Silas, I highly suggest you wait until the CEO gets back before you…” “Fiona.” Silas turned his profile to her, his smile never wavering. “Ms. Sinclair authorized me to manage the daily affairs of this floor. This falls exactly within my purview.” “Unless… you’re questioning the CEO’s judgment?” Fiona opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. I picked up a napkin and wiped the garlic butter off my fingers, taking my sweet time. “What was that phrase you used earlier? Run along?” Silas’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. “I didn’t say that,” he corrected smoothly. “I said play somewhere else.” “Right.” I nodded slowly. “So what you’re saying is, you get to decide where I sit?” “Mr. Sinclair. The whole company knows the CEO adores you. But business is business…” “By the way,” I interrupted him. “The passcode to the digital lock on that door? It’s my birthday. 0816. You can ask literally anyone in this room.” “Technically speaking, this lounge belongs to me.” Nancy nodded so hard she looked like a bobblehead. Silas went quiet for two full seconds. He took a deep breath and completely rearranged his face. This time, he wasn’t smiling. “Mr. Sinclair, every word I’ve said today is for the good of the company. It’s not a personal attack.” He turned to Nancy, his voice shifting into the hard, clipped tone of an executive giving an order. “Nancy. Notify reception. Starting today, anyone who is not an executive staff member must be logged and approved before entering this floor.” He paused. “Everyone. No exceptions.” Nancy’s face drained of color. “Silas, this kind of policy… it really needs Ms. Sinclair’s…” “She gave me the authority.” Silas cut her off smoothly. “I don’t need to ask for her permission for every little thing.” Then he turned back to me. This time, he didn’t even bother keeping up the gentle facade. “Mr. Sinclair, your behavior today has disrupted the workflow of this office.” “As the executive coordinator, I have the right to handle it.” He walked over to the glass doors, pulled them open, and nodded at the two security guards stationed in the hall. “Please lock this lounge temporarily.” He looked back at me, his voice quiet but crystal clear. “You can stay in here for a bit and cool off.” “Once I’ve given my report to the CEO, I’ll let you out.” “Consider it… a learning experience.” Nancy shot up from her chair. “Silas! Are you insane?!” Silas raised a hand, stopping her in her tracks. The smile crept back onto his lips, so fake it made my skin crawl. “Nancy, relax. I’m doing this for his own good.” “A spoiled kid needs someone to teach him boundaries eventually, right?” The security guards pulled the doors shut. The lock clicked. The lighting in the room didn’t change, but the atmosphere suddenly felt like we were all suffocating underwater. Standing on the other side of the glass, Silas clapped his hands together lightly, like he had just wiped a smudge off a window. “Alright.” He turned to Nancy, his tone back to being perfectly pleasant. “Nancy, type up the meeting minutes from this afternoon and email them to me. The CEO will want to review them later.” Nancy didn’t move. “Silas…” Her voice was shaking. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing right now?” “I do.” Silas said. “I’m restoring order to the executive suite.” “And Nancy, I wasn’t asking.” Nancy’s head snapped up, her eyes flashing red. She had been with Victoria for eleven years. She was here back when the Sinclair Group was just a mid-sized firm. She had never been spoken to like this in her life. She took a deep breath, ready to explode. But Silas had already turned away, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing a number. It connected almost instantly. A heavy, authoritative voice echoed through the phone speaker. “Silas, what is it?” Silas’s posture immediately softened. His tone became deferential, almost sweet. “Uncle Arthur. I just got to the executive floor and ran into a bit of a situation. I wanted to run it by you.” The moment the name Uncle Arthur dropped, the lounge went dead silent again. Gary’s coffee cup froze in mid-air. Fiona’s eyes widened. The man Silas was talking to wasn’t just anybody. It was Arthur Mercer. A founding board member, a loyalist to our late father, and the current Head of the Supervisory Board. Silas recounted the incident. His tone was aggrieved, his phrasing meticulously crafted to make him sound like a helpless professional just trying to do his job, while painting me as an unhinged, entitled brat throwing his weight around. “…I really had no choice. The CEO isn’t here, and the office was in total chaos. I had to follow protocol.” “Uncle Arthur, did I do the right thing?” The line was quiet for a couple of seconds. “You did the right thing, Silas. Rules are rules.” Arthur Mercer’s voice wasn’t loud, but it pierced right through the glass. “I’ll give Victoria a call later and tell her to get a leash on that brother of hers.” “A grown kid running wild around a corporate office. It’s a disgrace.” Silas looked up, his eyes sweeping over everyone in the room before locking onto me. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Thank you, Uncle Arthur. I knew you’d understand.” He hung up, slipped the phone back into his pocket, and stood a little taller. His entire aura had shifted. Before, he was playing the polite newcomer. Now, he didn’t even need the mask. He looked right at me through the glass. “Mr. Sinclair. You’re a smart kid. I won’t insult your intelligence by beating around the bush.” He crossed his arms, his voice perfectly level. “I didn’t come to this company to make enemies with you. But lines have to be drawn.” “You play along today, I put in a good word for you with your sister, and from now on, when you come up here, I’ll turn a blind eye.” “Doesn’t that sound like a win-win?” I looked down at my cold lobster roll. I looked back up, right as I was about to open my mouth. Footsteps echoed down the marble hallway. “Who gave the order to lock this door?” It was Evelyn. Victoria’s shadow. The Chief of Staff. Evelyn stood in front of the glass doors, holding the master keycard in her hand. She was in her early forties, had been with Victoria for thirteen years, and was literally there the day the company signed its first office lease. Everyone in the building knew the unwritten rule: When Victoria wasn’t around, Evelyn’s word was god. Her eyes swept over the locked door, the terrified staff inside, and finally landed on Silas. “I’m going to ask one more time.” She adjusted her glasses, her voice as flat as a dial tone. “Who gave the order to lock this door?” Silas didn’t answer immediately. He studied Evelyn for a couple of seconds, his eyes lingering on the gold badge pinned to her blazer. Chief of Staff: Evelyn. “I did.” He kept his chin lifted. There wasn’t an ounce of guilt in his voice. “There was a disruption in the office. I utilized the authority granted to me by the CEO to handle it temporarily.” Evelyn didn’t say a word. She swiped her keycard. The doors beeped and unlocked. She walked straight past Silas and stopped right in front of me. She looked at the cold, greasy takeout box on the table, and then at me. “Cole. Are you alright?” I shook my head. Evelyn nodded once. She turned to Nancy. “Have the kitchen prep a fresh order. Add a bowl of shrimp bisque. The CEO knew Cole was visiting today and specifically asked for it.” Nancy looked like she had just been handed a presidential pardon. She blurted a quick “Yes, ma’am!” and bolted for the door. “Hold on.” Silas’s voice cut through the air. Nancy froze in her tracks. “Evelyn.” Silas took a step forward, planting himself right between Evelyn and Nancy. “I just explicitly stated that non-employees are no longer permitted to dine on the executive floor. That policy is effective immediately.” “Are you overriding my administrative decision?” Evelyn slowly turned her head to look at him. “Silas.” Evelyn finally spoke. “I was the one who processed your onboarding paperwork. I know the exact limits of your authority better than you do.” “The CEO authorized you to coordinate daily administrative tasks.” She paused. “That does not include HR. That does not include security deployments. And it certainly does not include… locking doors.” Silas’s expression stiffened. He recovered quickly, even managing a small, condescending chuckle. “Evelyn, those are just words on a contract.” “Do you really think the CEO brought me up here just to be a glorified paper pusher?” “You’ve been with her for thirteen years. You should know better than anyone…” “She doesn’t hire people based on job descriptions.” He tilted his head, his tone suddenly dripping with a bizarre, intimate familiarity. “The dynamic between me and the CEO isn’t something that can be summed up in an offer letter.” “Evelyn, you’re a smart woman. I don’t think I need to spell it out for you.” The moment those words left his mouth, Gary nearly dropped his coffee mug on the floor. Fiona physically turned her head away to hide her face. Nancy stood in the doorway, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Evelyn adjusted her glasses. Her expression didn’t change by a single millimeter. “Silas. Whatever your personal relationship with the CEO may be, while you are on Sinclair Group property, you follow corporate policy.” “Because those are the rules the CEO herself put in place.” She turned back to Nancy, her voice completely unchanged. “Go. Get the food.” Nancy didn’t hesitate this time. She practically sprinted down the hall. Silas watched Nancy disappear, the smirk on his face dissolving inch by inch. He turned back to face Evelyn. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “Evelyn, I respected your seniority, which is why I tried to be polite.” “But you blatantly undermining me in front of the entire staff makes my job very difficult.” Evelyn didn’t flinch. “I locked this lounge because Cole’s behavior was actively disrupting the workflow of this floor.” Silas lowered his voice, grinding out every single syllable. “Arthur Mercer himself gave his blessing on this.” “Are you saying you outrank a founding board member?” Evelyn tucked her tablet under her arm. Her tone was as dead and still as a frozen lake. “Silas. Arthur Mercer is the Head of the Supervisory Board. His job is to ensure corporate compliance.” “He has absolutely zero jurisdiction over executive HR or office management.” She paused. “That is written in the corporate bylaws. In black and white. It’s not my opinion, and it’s certainly not his.” Silas’s eyes went entirely cold. “Evelyn.” It was the first time he dropped her title completely. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” “I do.” Evelyn replied effortlessly. “Silas, the new executive assistant. Currently on his first day of work.” It wasn’t a shout. But every word drew blood. He spun around and looked at me. Since Evelyn was a brick wall, he clearly decided to pivot and pressure the weakest link. “Cole.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I’m going to give you one last chance.” “Play along today, and I’ll pretend none of this happened.” “You can keep coming up here, I won’t stop you, and we stay out of each other’s way.” “But if you keep pushing this…” He trailed off, his eyes doing a slow sweep of my face. “I have no problem calling Arthur Mercer down here to handle this personally.” “If this blows up, it’s not going to end well for you.” I pushed the cold lobster roll away and looked up at him. “Silas.” I said. “How long have you been in this room today?” Silas frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?” “Just curious.” I said. “You walked in, locked the door, name-dropped a board member, tried to bully the Chief of Staff, and now you’re trying to negotiate with me.” I tilted my head. “Do you really think you have any leverage left?” Silas’s eyes snapped wide. It wasn’t anger. It was that frantic, cornered-animal panic of a man who realized he had miscalculated completely. But he shoved it down fast. He took a deep breath, forcing the polite smile back onto his face. But the mask was cracking. The venom was leaking through. “You’ve got a sharp tongue on you, kid.” “I’ve always been this way. My sisters are used to it.” “Your sisters?” Silas repeated the words softly, a sneer curling his lip. “Your sisters aren’t here right now.” “No matter how much they coddle you, they can’t save you from this.” He took a step forward. “So, think carefully, Mr. Sinclair.” He raised a hand and pointed straight at the open door. “Are you going to walk out on your own, or do I have to have security escort you out?” Evelyn stepped forward instantly. “Silas—” “Evelyn, if you interrupt me one more time,” Silas snapped, his voice turning vicious, “I am calling Arthur Mercer right now. We’ll see how he feels about an assistant chronically obstructing executive operations.” Evelyn stopped. Silas looked back at me, keeping his arm extended toward the door. “Let’s go, Cole.” I looked down at his outstretched hand. I stared at it for about three seconds. Then I looked up, past his shoulder, staring straight into the hallway. Silas noticed my gaze. He frowned and slowly turned around. Footsteps clipped sharply against the marble floor. A figure appeared in the doorway. Victoria stood there, her voice completely flat. “What exactly is going on here?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “504145”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 My ten-year-old daughter went on a school trip to the reservoir. Her classmates dragged her to the intake pipe and held her under. When I saw the water turn pink, I lost my mind and pulled her out. Her face was mangled by the grate’s suction. She coughed up blood and stopped breathing. The ringleader sneered that she was a minor and untouchable. “I hated her anyway. Why did she always beat my scores?” Her mother tossed a handkerchief of cash at my feet. “Two grand. More than enough for your brat’s cheap life.” Grief and rage consumed me. I demanded justice, but my husband held me back. “She’s already dead, Lynn. Do you want to ruin another child’s life?” I fought desperately, but the bully got only months in juvie. It wasn’t enough. Broken, I took a bottle of pills at my daughter’s grave. I woke up on the morning of the field trip. I dragged my daughter home, but history repeated itself—another girl drowned in the reservoir that day. … We had run away from the reservoir in such a panic that my daughter, Lily, left her sandals behind. I told her to wait for me at the edge of town while I went back to grab them. I also planned to warn the town council that the safety grate on the spillway was broken. As I approached the water, a chorus of cruel laughter echoed through the trees. “Look at her! She looks like a dead fish. Come on, move! Why aren’t you moving? Hahaha!” Three girls were laughing hysterically. The tallest one, Ruby, was pressing her foot down hard on a patch of blue fabric beneath the surface of the water. Seeing that blue floral pattern, the exact same dress Lily was wearing today, made my heart skip a beat. The faint red tint swirling in the water almost made me pass out. If I did not know for a fact that my daughter was safely waiting for me down the road, I would never have been able to face this nightmare again. In my past life, Ruby had murdered my daughter out of pure, petty jealousy. Lily had beaten her in the state math exams and found more shells than her during a beach trip. That was all it took for Ruby to kill her. So who was this girl in the water? And what was her supposed crime? I did not have time to think. Saving a life was the only thing that mattered. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Stop! What the hell are you doing?!” Ruby looked up, saw me, and casually took a half-step back with a raised eyebrow. “Oh look, the mother hen is here to protect her chicks. I guess the fun is over.” The other two girls jumped back like startled rabbits, refusing to meet my eyes. The girl in the water was pinned violently against the intake pipe. The massive suction force had her face pressed flush against the iron grate. Her limbs floated lifelessly in the current. This was exactly how I found my daughter in my past life. I had thrown myself into the water to pull her out, but the suction was too strong. I could not move her. By the time the locals ran over and shut off the main valve, the golden window for CPR had long passed. My daughter died right in my arms. Looking at the blue floral dress, the braided hair, the small frame… I had to keep repeating it in my head. This is not Lily. Lily is safe. Lily is waiting for me. But my hands were still shaking uncontrollably. Relying on the tragic experience of my past life, I turned to the bystanders who were just staring in shock. “What are you standing there for? Can’t you see someone is stuck on the grate? Go shut off the main valve right now!” A few men finally snapped out of their daze and sprinted toward the control shed. Minutes later, I hauled the girl’s limp body onto the concrete bank. Her face was swollen and distorted beyond recognition. She had absolutely no breath left. I could not find a pulse. Ruby stood off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest. A faint, sickening smile played on her lips. “She told us she could hold her breath for three minutes straight. We were just helping her practice.” “Helping her?” My eyes went entirely red. I lunged forward and slapped Ruby across the face as hard as I could. “You pinned her head against an industrial suction pipe and you call that helping?!” Ruby clutched her stinging cheek and glared at me with pure venom. “We were just playing around! How was I supposed to know she was so fragile?” “You actually dared to hit me? Do you know who my dad is? Believe me, I will have my dad destroy your entire family!” I knew exactly who her dad was. That was why I wanted to tear her arrogant little face right off. “Playing? Is this how you play? You just murdered someone! Do you understand that?!” The chubby girl standing next to Ruby finally realized the gravity of the situation. Her voice trembled violently. “Ruby, did we just…” Before she could finish, Ruby snapped at her. “Did we what? You were pushing her down just as hard as I was!” The third girl immediately burst into terrified tears. “I… I want to go home…” I ignored them. I laid the drowned girl flat on her back and immediately started chest compressions. I yelled at the nearest local. “Go get Dr. Evans from the clinic! Hurry! We might still be able to save her!” I tilted the girl’s chin back to start rescue breaths. As I did, my eyes caught a distinct, dark red birthmark shaped like a plum blossom behind her ear. Something clicked in my memory. Just then, Jenkins, the old man who managed the reservoir, came strolling down the dirt path. Right beside him was Patricia, Ruby’s wealthy mother. When they saw the gruesome scene by the water, panic washed over their faces. “What… what happened here?!” Jenkins stammered. Ruby instantly dropped her arrogant act. She put on a terrified, innocent face and ran crying into her mother’s arms. “Mom! We were just having a contest to see who could hold their breath the longest! She said she could do three minutes, we didn’t know…” “This is ridiculous!” Jenkins turned pale. “I have told you kids a million times not to swim here without an adult!” “I am sorry, I promise I will never do it again,” Ruby sniffled, looking down. Then she peeked up at me and smirked. “But this crazy lady had no right to hit me!” Patricia saw the bright red handprint on her daughter’s cheek. She pointed a manicured finger right at my nose. “Who the hell gave you the right to touch my daughter?” She cast a look of utter disgust at the dying girl on the ground, then glared back at me. “This brat broke the rules and swam where she wasn’t supposed to. Her parents clearly don’t know how to watch their own kid. You can’t blame anyone else for an accident like this, can you?” In my past life, multiple witnesses confirmed that my daughter had just taken her shoes off by the water when Ruby shoved her in from behind. Then all three of them dragged her to the pipe and held her down. I knew this girl’s final moments must have been exactly the same. I knew the absolute hell of losing a child. Regardless of who this little girl was, she was completely innocent. Every second mattered. I did not want to waste my breath arguing with Patricia. I kept pumping the girl’s chest and shot a sharp glare at Jenkins. “You are the caretaker, Jenkins. You are liable for this too. You better call the child’s parents right now.” 2 Jenkins trembled violently and started backing away. He stammered out his agreement. “Right, right. I will go call the town mayor…” A few seconds later, he stopped and looked back at the girl’s swollen, disfigured face. “Her face is ruined. How am I supposed to know whose kid this is?” I looked up at him in absolute disbelief. “Are you incapable of checking? Just count how many kids were supposed to be on this field trip. Subtract the ones who are safe, subtract these three standing right here, and whoever is left…” Ruby suddenly interrupted me. “You don’t need to check. I know exactly who it is.” She walked right up to me and crouched down. She stared closely at the dead girl’s face. Her voice was quiet, but every word stabbed into my ears like a needle. “This is Lily. Have you honestly forgotten what your own kid looks like?” “You were acting so crazy a minute ago. I thought you already knew. Or are you just refusing to accept reality?” I stared at her, my eyes wide. So that was it. She saw the blue dress and thought she was drowning my daughter. That was why she was so ruthless. Ruby seemed incredibly satisfied by the shock on my face. Seeing that I was still doing chest compressions, she laughed. “Stop wasting your energy. Have you noticed she hasn’t reacted at all for the past twenty minutes?” “It took way longer than ten minutes for you to pull her out of that pipe. The golden window for saving her is long gone.” Hearing those words, all the strength drained from my arms. I collapsed onto the concrete, my whole body shaking. Was I still too late? I failed to save my own daughter in my past life, and now I had failed to save this innocent girl too. I glared at Ruby with absolute hatred. “Why would you do something so evil? Are you not afraid of karma?!” “Oh wow, I am so scared.” She dramatically patted her chest in mock terror. “Karma? You mean the law?” “I am only eleven years old. The law says anyone under fourteen cannot be held criminally responsible for anything.” She was leaning so close to me that I could smell the cheap floral soap in her hair. Those exact words, and that exact smell, had haunted my nightmares every single night in my past life. Looking at her face, a grotesque mixture of childish innocence and pure malice, the hatred of two lifetimes finally boiled over. I grabbed her by the hair, fully intending to drag her to the water and hold her under. “You are pure evil. I am going to let you taste exactly what she felt…” Patricia swung her heavy designer purse and smashed it directly into the side of my head. The thick metal buckle tore a deep, bleeding gash across my forehead. The pain forced me to let go. Patricia quickly pulled Ruby behind her. “Are you insane?!” “The accident already happened! Why are you taking it out on a child? My daughter is eleven! She doesn’t know any better! It was just a stupid accident!” “An accident?” I felt the blood rushing to my head, pounding against my temples. “Go ask the witnesses! Three girls held a child’s head against an industrial suction pipe until she drowned. You call that an accident?!” Patricia glanced nervously at her daughter, who looked slightly guilty. Then, with agonizing slowness, Patricia pulled a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills from her purse. “So what exactly do you want? Justice? Let me teach you a lesson about the real world. Justice depends entirely on who you are and how much you can pay!” She took a step forward, practically shoving the money into my face. “Do you know who my daughter is? She is the heir to the Montgomery Lumber Mill!” “And your kid? Just the brat of a pathetic middle-management accountant. She is dead, get over it. Did you honestly expect a Montgomery to trade her life for a nobody?” She threw the money, letting the bills flutter down onto my face and lap. “There is two thousand dollars. Take the money, shut your mouth, and buy your kid a decent coffin.” “If you dare breathe a word of this to anyone, or if you go to the cops… I promise you, neither you nor your husband will ever find a job in this state again!” Ruby peeked out from behind her mother’s expensive coat and stuck her tongue out at me. There was not a single ounce of fear in her eyes. Only pure, untouchable arrogance. Jenkins finally realized how bad things were getting. Not wanting to lose his own job, he leaned in and whispered to me. “Lynn, be reasonable. This was a tragedy, but since the Montgomery family is willing to settle this privately, why don’t you just take a step back?” Take a step back? I looked down at the cash scattered on the ground, then at the freezing, lifeless body of the little girl. It was absolutely sickening. They were treating a human life like a cheap business transaction, brushing it off like it was nothing. My eyes fell on the girl’s plum blossom birthmark again. I finally remembered exactly who she was. Since my ordinary daughter’s life was not worth anything to them, I could not wait to see how many lives they would have to pay to settle the debt for this girl. Ruby was still running her mouth. “Just look on the bright side. Cash in hand is better than nothing. Your kid is dead, so just go make another one…” I slowly lifted my head, locking my eyes onto her arrogantly ignorant face. “Your mother’s money is not going to save you this time.” She jutted her chin out. “Say whatever you want. Nothing is going to happen to me anyway. My mom told me the juvenile protection laws are my permanent shield!” I gently wiped the bloody water from the dead girl’s face. My fingertips brushed softly against the red plum blossom mark. I took off my jacket and draped it over her small body, wanting to give her one last shred of dignity. “Your shield?” A cold smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Then you better start praying that the people coming for you actually care about the law.” Patricia frowned deeply. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I completely ignored her. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and dialed a specific number. I leaned down and whispered softly into the dead girl’s ear. “Don’t be afraid, sweetie. Your daddy will be here soon.” Then, I turned toward the wall phone mounted on the outside of the caretaker’s booth and started dialing 911. “What do you think you are doing?!” Patricia finally realized something was wrong. Her voice went shrill with panic. “I am warning you! This ends here, today! If you dare make that call…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “504161”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The night before graduation, I finished tutoring early and dragged my suitcase to the station. Lucia and I had promised our first trip would be to the ocean. That ticket cost three months of grueling essay drills with elementary students. But the kiosk did not print my ticket. Instead, a text confirmed it had been refunded. When I called Lucia, it went straight to voicemail. Minutes later, I saw her at the far end of the waiting hall. She wore the white sundress I had bought her, crouching to adjust Paul’s jeans. She held my camera, my graduation lanyard was around her neck, and my brand-new suitcase sat by her feet. Before I could reach them, Paul’s eyes welled with tears. “Noah, please don’t be mad… I really wanted to see the beach.” Lucia looked up, her face cold. “How did you find us?” I pointed at the suitcase. “That’s mine.” She tightened her grip with an irritated sigh. “Paul’s back is bad. He can’t carry a heavy bag. Is it such a crime to borrow yours?” “And my ticket?” She paused, then shoved a crumpled coach ticket into my hand. “I booked you a seat home tonight.” Her voice dropped, each word hitting like a nail. “This trip is a celebration. Don’t tag along and ruin it.” Using my things, stealing my trip, and calling me the killjoy. I stared at the crumpled piece of paper. Back to my hometown. Coach class. Three months of saving every dime, and all it bought me was a one-way ticket backward, personally arranged by my girlfriend. I ripped the ticket in half and dropped it into the nearest trash can. Lucia’s face shifted. “Noah, are you out of your mind?” I looked her dead in the eye. “My camera, my suitcase, and my graduation lanyard are all in his hands. Why the hell should I be the one to leave?” Paul immediately shrank behind Lucia’s shoulder. “Lucia, maybe… maybe I should just give his stuff back.” He said the words, but his knuckles were white as he gripped my suitcase handle. He wasn’t letting go. Lucia frowned at me. “Paul gets motion sickness, and he can’t carry a backpack. Do you really have to make a scene and humiliate him in public?” As she spoke, I looked down and pressed the side button on my old phone. The voice memo app lit up. The recording timer started ticking. The overhead speaker blared, announcing the final boarding call for their train. Paul gently tugged at her sleeve. “Lucia, if we don’t go now, we’re gonna miss it.” She didn’t look at me again. With one hand holding Paul’s arm and the other dragging my suitcase, she turned and walked through the boarding gates. I stood frozen in the middle of the terminal as my phone screen slowly faded to black. My chest felt just as hollow. I went to the ticket counter and bought a standing-room-only ticket for the next train to Cape Haven. Seven hours. No seat. I stood in the cramped, shaky vestibule between train cars the entire way. By the time we arrived, my legs were numb and trembling. Halfway through the ride, Lucia sent me a text. Paul is dizzy from the train. Don’t come here and stress him out. I didn’t reply. At two in the morning, I dragged myself into the lobby of the beachside resort. The guy at the front desk pulled up the reservation, looking incredibly awkward. “Mr. Davis, the reservation is under your name, and you’re the one who paid for it.” “But the guest name was modified to Paul.” I gripped my ID so hard my fingers hurt. “Who modified it?” “A Miss Lucia.” The elevator dinged. Lucia stepped out. Her hair was damp, and she was wearing a loose, oversized t-shirt. When she saw me, her first question wasn’t how I managed to survive a seven-hour train ride standing up. She just frowned. “You actually followed us?” I stared at her. “Where is my room?” “Paul just fell asleep. Keep your voice down.” “I asked you, where is my room?” Lucia rubbed her temples, looking thoroughly exhausted by my presence. “There are no rooms left tonight. There’s a storage closet downstairs on the ground floor. You’ll just have to make do for now.” She tossed a rusted key at my chest. “Don’t go up there and make a scene. You know Paul gets anxious.” I looked down at the key hitting the floor. A dry, humorless laugh scraped out of my throat. “Lucia, I booked that room. With my money.” “I know.” Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “But Paul has a weak constitution, and the travel wiped him out. Just act like an adult, Noah. Stop throwing a tantrum.” I slid my hand into my pocket and pressed the button on my old phone again. The recording app was still running. This time, I didn’t try to convince myself to just let it go. I unlocked the storage closet. A wave of mildew and damp earth hit my face. Mops, dirty buckets, and a half-collapsed mattress were piled inside. My suitcase was shoved into the corner. The lock had been completely pried off. My clothes were thrown around in a messy pile. I squatted down, sifting through the mess piece by piece. My toiletry bag was there. My charger was there. But the blue button-down shirt my dad had bought me… was gone. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from Lucia. Paul was nice enough to unpack your suitcase for you. Don’t be ungrateful. 2 The next morning, the class group chat pinged. Everyone was supposed to meet on the beach at nine for graduation photos. I hadn’t slept a wink. I carried my busted suitcase upstairs to the lobby. The moment the elevator doors parted, I saw Paul standing right outside the ocean-view suite. He was wearing the blue shirt. Lucia was standing in front of him, buttoning the collar. Her movements were so natural, so practiced. Like she had done it a thousand times. That shirt was the last thing my dad ever bought me before he passed away. He had been sitting in the hospital gift shop, IV tape still plastered across the back of his bruised hand. He had smiled and said, “Noah, when you go to the beach for your graduation trip, wear this. Take a picture for me so I can see the ocean too.” I walked over. My voice was trembling, thick with venom. “Take it off.” Paul’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. “Noah… I didn’t know it was yours.” Lucia stepped right in front of him, shielding him like I was a monster. “Are you seriously making him strip in the hallway?” “There are cameras here, Noah. Have a little decency.” I kept my eyes locked on him. “That shirt is the only thing my dad left me for graduation.” Lucia’s face stiffened for a fraction of a second. But then her brow furrowed in annoyance. “Your dad is gone, Noah. Are you really going to bully a living person over a piece of fabric?” Paul started sobbing, his shoulders shaking pitifully. Lucia turned around, her voice softening into a gentle coo. “Hey, don’t cry. It’s okay. He’s just having one of his moods.” Down on the beach, when the group photo was taken, Paul stood dead center. He was wearing my dad’s shirt. He was holding my camera. He was leaning right against Lucia. Someone in the crowd whistled. “Lucia, Paul, you guys totally look like a couple!” Lucia didn’t deny it. She just looked at me. There was no guilt in her eyes. Only a warning. After the group shots, Paul grabbed the hem of the blue shirt and jogged toward the jagged rocks near the tide pools. “Lucia, come take some solo shots of me!” I lunged forward and grabbed the camera strap from his neck. “Give it back.” Paul yanked backward. “Noah, come on, I’m not done yet!” “It’s my camera.” As we pulled back and forth, he suddenly let out a sharp shriek. He slipped. The bottom of the blue shirt caught on a jagged rock, tearing all the way from the knee to the calf. Paul used the momentum to fall right into Lucia’s arms, gasping for air like he was having a panic attack. “I didn’t mean to! Why does he always have to fight me for everything?” Lucia shoved me hard in the chest. I stumbled backward, my palms scraping against the barnacles on the rocks. Blood immediately welled up, stinging violently against the salt air. But she didn’t even look. She was too busy checking Paul. “Are you hurt? Did you scrape anything?” I looked down at the blood dripping from my hands, and then at the massive tear running up my dad’s shirt. Lucia glared over her shoulder at me, her eyes like absolute ice. “Are you happy now?” I opened my mouth, but before I could make a sound, Paul fished a soaked, crumpled wad of paper from the shirt pocket. “Ew, what’s this? It’s all soggy.” The blood drained from my face. It was the graduation card my dad had written for me. I had tucked it into the pocket right before I left, planning to read it once I finally stood in front of the ocean. I lunged to grab it. Paul yelped and let go. The card dropped right into the churning tide. A wave crashed in, sucking half of it out to sea. I fell to my knees in the wet sand, desperately clawing at the water. I only managed to snatch a torn corner. There was only one line of ink left visible. Noah, keep moving forward. Lucia stood behind me, crossing her arms. She sounded thoroughly annoyed. “It’s literally just a piece of paper. Get over it.” I gripped that torn, soggy corner of the card. My hands were shaking so hard they didn’t even feel like mine anymore. That was the moment it finally clicked. It wasn’t that she didn’t know I was bleeding. It was just that my pain would always take a backseat to his tears. 3 At noon, my phone buzzed. A text from Lucia. Bring the spare camera battery to the restaurant. I didn’t go. I sat on the curb outside the resort and turned on my camera. The SD card had been swapped. The only things left on the new card were blurry selfies of Paul. My entire senior thesis film was gone. The project was titled Taking Dad to the Ocean. I had been shooting it for three years. I filmed the misty bus stops in our small town at dawn. I filmed the bruised purple sunsets on my way home from tutoring. I filmed the glass of water going cold on my dad’s hospital nightstand. I filmed his trembling hands, secretly wiping away sweat the day he bought me that blue shirt. I had planned to shoot the final sequence here, on the beach. I was going to set his photograph in the sand, let the waves touch it, and tell him, I graduated, Dad. I really made it out. Now, it was all gone. I called Lucia. Before the call connected, I woke up my old phone. I checked to make sure the recording app was still ticking. She took her time answering. In the background, I could hear glasses clinking. People laughing. “What is it now?” “Where is my SD card?” Dead silence on the line for two seconds. “Paul has his grad school portfolio interview coming up, and he didn’t have enough footage. I transferred your raw files to his laptop.” Rage spiked through my veins so hot it made my fingertips go numb. “Who gave you the right to touch my things?” Lucia’s tone went ice-cold. “Noah, can you stop being so incredibly selfish?” “You’re not even applying for grad school. That footage is just going to sit on your hard drive doing nothing.” “It’s different for Paul. He needs this opportunity.” A bitter, venomous laugh tore out of my throat. “So my thesis film is just supposed to be a stepping stone for him?” “He’s just borrowing it.” “Lucia, that film was for my dad.” She went quiet. When she finally spoke again, her voice was dripping with disgust. “Stop using your dead dad to guilt-trip everyone.” I hung up. Ten minutes later, the class group chat exploded. Paul had just uploaded a short film. The title was I Finally Saw the Ocean. The first frame was my shot of the small-town bus stop. The second frame was the sterile hallway of my dad’s hospital wing. The third frame was the exact voiceover script I had written in my notes app. I clawed my way out of a small town to reach the ocean, not so the world could see me, but so my dad would know… I didn’t lose. Except Paul had deleted “my dad.” He changed it to: …but to prove that I deserve a better future. The comments were a flood of praise. “Paul, this is so raw. You have such an artistic eye!” “If this doesn’t win the Outstanding Graduate Film award, the system is rigged.” Then, the department head chimed in. “Paul, this is phenomenal. I’m submitting this for the campus-wide showcase.” I stood up and sprinted to the seafood restaurant. When I pushed open the door to the private dining room, Lucia was peeling shrimp for Paul. She had never peeled a shrimp for me in her life. Once, I sliced my thumb open on a crab shell, and she laughed and called me dramatic. Now, a whole plate of perfectly peeled shrimp sat in front of Paul. The waiter brought out a platter of roasted crab. Lucia immediately held up a hand. “Paul can’t eat crab. He’s allergic.” I stopped in my tracks. A second later, she pushed the only bowl of warm, soothing porridge directly in front of him. “Your stomach has been acting up. Eat this first.” It was almost hilarious. It wasn’t that she was forgetful or careless. She knew exactly how to care for someone. She just chose to care for someone else. I walked right up to the table and held out my hand. “Give me my SD card.” Paul’s eyes immediately reddened. “Noah, I swear, I was just trying to work hard for once.” I stared down at him. “Working hard at stealing other people’s lives?” Lucia slammed her chopsticks onto the table. “Noah, watch your damn mouth.” “Then watch your damn actions. Both of you make me sick.” The entire private room went dead silent. Lucia’s face darkened into something ugly. “Are you seriously going to ruin this lunch for everyone?” “You ruined my film.” Paul shook his head, tears spilling over his cheeks. “Noah, Lucia gave me the files! I swear, I thought you agreed to let me use them!” Lucia looked up at me, jutting her chin out. “I gave them to him. You have a problem, you take it up with me.” I smiled. A tight, dangerous smile. “Perfect. Then why don’t you tell the whole room right now? Are those files mine or not?” She clamped her mouth shut. Paul started crying louder. “Noah, why are you forcing Lucia into a corner like this?” Just then, a notification popped up on my phone. A direct message from the department head. Noah, someone submitted an anonymous report accusing you of plagiarizing Paul’s project. Your nomination for the Outstanding Graduate award has been suspended pending review. Right beneath it, another message popped up. The HR rep from the local TV station back home. Mr. Davis, due to the ongoing dispute regarding your academic integrity, we are placing your internship offer on hold. I stood in the middle of the restaurant, the blood turning to ice in my veins. I found out later exactly how it happened. The anonymous report was Paul. He had sent an email to the college board and the TV station. He attached a heavily edited, ten-second clip of me yelling in the restaurant, framing me as the aggressor, and linked the video he had already claimed under his own name. He didn’t just want to steal my work. He wanted to permanently brand me as a thief. I didn’t come from money like Lucia did. I didn’t have the luxury of crying to get my way like Paul did. That internship was my only lifeline. And now, they were casually snapping it in half. Lucia noticed the look on my face. She frowned. “What’s wrong now?” I tossed my phone onto the table in front of her. She read the messages. For a split second, genuine panic flickered across her face. But then Paul gently tugged at the hem of her shirt. “Lucia… I’m scared.” And just like that, the panic vanished, replaced by an iron-clad defense of him. She slid the phone back to me and lowered her voice. “Noah, let’s not blow this out of proportion.” “Just admit it was a misunderstanding. Tell them you got confused, and Paul won’t press the plagiarism charges.” I stared at her like she was an alien. “You want me to apologize?” She couldn’t meet my eyes. “Just put the fire out first. We’ll deal with the rest later.” It was pure, unadulterated insanity. The footage was mine. The thief was him. The one who handed him the knife was her. And the one who had to get on his knees and apologize… was me. 4 At eight o’clock that night, the department held an emergency Zoom meeting. I was sitting on the half-collapsed mattress in the storage closet. The single naked bulb above my head flickered, buzzing like a dying insect. On the screen, Paul was sitting in the plush chair of the ocean-view suite I had paid for. His eyes were puffy and red. Lucia was sitting right beside him. Looking like his girlfriend. Looking like his bodyguard. The counselor spoke first. “Noah, Paul. We need to clear the air regarding this thesis dispute right now.” Paul instantly started weeping on camera. “Professor, I swear I didn’t steal anything.” “Lucia gave me the footage. I swear I thought Noah said it was okay.” “He’s been mad at me ever since we were at the train station. I had no idea he was going to take it this far.” I didn’t say a word. I just dragged my raw camera files, cloud backups, and the creation dates of my script notes into the Zoom chat box. “I shot the footage.” “I wrote the voiceover.” “Paul had absolutely zero involvement.” The class president, who was also on the call, squinted at his screen and muttered, “Yeah… the timestamps definitely line up with Noah’s timeline.” Paul’s face went chalk-white. He whipped his head to look at Lucia. “Lucia, please, tell them!” I looked at her on the screen too. Even after everything, some pathetic, naive part of me thought she might finally tell a single ounce of the truth. Lucia stared at her webcam for a few seconds. Then, she spoke. “The raw footage is technically Noah’s.” The tight knot in my chest loosened for a fraction of a second. But her next sentence dragged me straight to the bottom of the ocean. “But Paul spent a lot of time editing it, color grading it, and rethinking the narrative structure. You can’t just call it theft. It was a collaboration.” I stared at the pixelated version of the girl I had loved for four years. I didn’t even recognize her. “Lucia, do you hear the words coming out of your mouth?” She scowled. “Noah, stop being so aggressive.” “Blowing this up isn’t going to do you any favors.” I laughed out loud. “Do me any favors?” “My train ticket was refunded. My hotel room was hijacked. The shirt my dead father bought me was torn to shreds. My thesis film was stolen and submitted under his name.” “And now my job offer is suspended.” “Tell me, Lucia. What part of this exactly is doing me a favor?” The Zoom room was dead silent. Paul sniffled, holding up his phone to the camera. He had pulled up a screenshot of his texts. I’ll handle Noah. He’s a pushover. He won’t actually do anything about it. Just submit the film. Let me do the talking. Everyone on the call could clearly see the contact name at the top: Lucia. Lucia’s face drained of color. Paul sobbed even harder. “Professor, I was just so scared!” “Lucia promised me Noah wouldn’t mind, that’s the only reason I used it! I didn’t want to fail my portfolio review!” “If Noah really wants me to apologize, I’ll do it.” He wiped his nose and looked straight into the webcam. “But Noah, shouldn’t you apologize to me too?” “You screamed at me in the middle of a restaurant. You called me a thief in front of everyone.” Lucia rubbed the bridge of her nose, letting out a long, suffering sigh. “Noah. Just apologize. Let’s move on.” I stared into the screen. “Apologize to who?” “To Paul.” She said it so quietly. But every syllable felt like a blade slicing across my throat. “Just admit it was a miscommunication. I’ll pull some strings with my dad’s company and figure out a way to get your internship back later.” I started laughing again. It echoed off the damp walls of the closet. “Later?” “Lucia, when you left me stranded at the station, you said we’d talk about it later.” “When you locked me in a closet, you said you’d deal with it later.” “When my dad’s shirt was destroyed, you said we’d handle it later.” “When my film was stolen, you still said later.” “Is your definition of ‘later’ just forcing me to get on my knees and take it, over and over again?” Lucia’s jaw tightened. Paul whimpered, “Noah, stop bullying Lucia! She’s trying to help!” The counselor finally chimed in, sounding stressed. “Noah, the optics on this aren’t great for you right now.” “If you two can just settle this privately and issue a joint statement, that would be the cleanest way forward.” I looked down at the scratched screen of my old phone. The red dot was still blinking. From the train station, to the hallway, to the restaurant. I wasn’t recording because I was waiting for some dramatic rescue. I was recording because from the exact second she shoved that coach ticket into my hand, I finally realized I could never rely on her conscience ever again. Every time she told me to grow up, every time she told me to stop being a buzzkill, I just pressed the button. To document the reality I was living in. When my dad passed, I couldn’t bear to throw this crappy phone away. I never expected it would be the only thing left in the world willing to tell the truth for me. On the screen, the professor sighed. “Noah Davis. Do you have anything else to add to the record?” I looked up. I looked at every single face staring back at me in the grid. “Yeah. I do.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “504146”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 When the fire broke out, the video of Scott rushing into the flames to die with his true love went viral overnight. While the public mourned their tragic romance, some noticed me—trapped in the same burning building, pinned under a collapsed beam, legs twisted at a grotesque angle. In the footage, I stared blankly through smoke as they kissed, my ash-stained fingers trembling while dialing emergency services. “Lmao, that bystander looks traumatized. Watching them kiss probably killed her will to live.” “She looks like a clown who wandered onto a teen drama set.” “I want a love like that—reckless, world-ending, ignoring everyone else.” Scott must have read the comments. He called, rubbing his temples, voice lazy. “Sorry, babe. Didn’t realize you were there. Nancy said she’d never been kissed and begged me before we died. Didn’t expect the media frenzy. Hurt? Need me to pick you up?” I was limping out of the hospital, leaning on a cheap crutch. “It’s fine,” I said quietly. Fine that he hadn’t noticed me. Fine that he didn’t see me hobble past his sports car meters away. Fine that he forgot today was our wedding day. Because I’d already replaced him with a new groom. My new groom was already on his way to pick me up. Watching the GPS tracker on my phone as his car closed the distance, I felt a quiet wave of relief. Then, Scott’s phone line suddenly erupted with laughter from his friends in the background. “Scott, man, you need to start a masterclass. How did you get the proud Vivian to be this submissive?” “Right? You literally skipped your own wedding today to hang out with Nancy, and she didn’t even throw a fit!” My eyelashes fluttered at the sound of my name, but Scott remained silent on the other end. Just as I was about to hang up, his soft chuckle came through the receiver. “Well, looks like I went too far this time. My sweet fiancée is giving me the silent treatment. She is learning to play hard to get.” His tone carried zero worry, only a patronizing amusement at my new tactic. For years, my dependence on him had bordered on obsession, and my methods of showing it had been painfully predictable. If he was thirty minutes late, I would spam his phone with a hundred calls. If there was a trace of lipstick on his collar, I would scream, cry, and shred his designer shirts to pieces. He enjoyed the chase, fully convinced this was just another dramatic performance to get his attention. “Anyway, Nancy is waiting for her seafood chowder,” Scott said, dismissive. “She is just a poor student I sponsor. She has no one else in this city, and I promised I would look after her today.” His friends went quiet, exchange uneasy glances. “Wait, Gav, you’re serious? We thought you were just messing with your girl.” “You’ve postponed this wedding eight times, always because of Nancy. But ditching her on the actual wedding day? Aren’t you worried she’ll actually walk away this time?” “Does she look like she could ever leave me?” Scott replied, his voice light and arrogant. “Besides, the smoke got to my head. It’s only natural I forgot the ceremony. I’ll make it up to her later.” Their voices continued to filter through the speaker. When I heard the words seafood chowder, my heart gave a dull ache. Nancy had only arrived in the city yesterday. During her first meal, she had simply had two bowls of chowder, and Scott had immediately memorized her preference. I stared at the screen, watching the call timer tick upward. It was amusing how he still hadn’t realized I was still on the line. “Don’t mention to Vivian that I’m at the hospital with Nancy,” Scott added, a trace of amusement slipping into his voice. “My fiancée has quite the temper. If she found out I faked forgetting the wedding just to nurse Nancy, she’d probably burn our house down.” I curled my lips into a bitter smile. This time, I didn’t wait for him to finish. I hung up. When Scott walked into the hospital lobby carrying the food, a crowd of reporters swarmed the entrance. The sudden noise made him look back, his gaze lazily sweeping in my direction. My chest tightened. But before our eyes could meet, a dozen cameras thrust into my face, blinding me with flashes. “Excuse me, are you the bystander who witnessed that viral kiss of true love?” “What was it like seeing such a powerful romance unfold right in front of you? Can you share your thoughts?” I looked through the crowd again. Scott had already turned away, walking deeper into the hospital corridors. His suit jacket was slung carelessly over his shoulder, a posture that mirrored the eighteen-year-old boy who had once leaned against a brick wall to shield me. Back then, after taking the brunt of my abusive uncle’s rage for me, Scott had slung his blood-stained jacket over his shoulder just like this, smiling to comfort me. “Stop crying, okay? My bad. I promise you, as long as I’m around, I’ll never let my precious princess get hurt again.” The throbbing pain in my leg snapped me back to reality. My phone buzzed. A message from the new groom: Almost there. I withdrew my gaze, leaned heavily on my crutch to steady myself, and looked directly into the camera lenses. “I wish them a long and happy life together.” In an instant, the sound of shutters and overlapping questions threatened to drown me. I stumbled, my injured leg giving out under the pressure. But before I could fall, a strong, steady hand caught my waist. “Sorry, everyone. She is in a bit of a rush to marry me today. No time for interviews.” The clean, familiar scent of cedarwood enveloped me. I blinked and looked up, meeting Dominic’s amused, dark eyes. Within seconds, he had dismissed the reporters with a few sharp, polite words. He swept me up onto his back, effortlessly snatching the wooden crutch from my hand and tossing it into a nearby bin. “Vivian, did you seriously find a broken table leg in the street and decide it was a crutch?” I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face into the crook of his neck, remaining silent. Sensing my mood, his grip on my thighs tightened, and he softened his tone. “The bone specialist I flew in from Zurich is already waiting. Let’s get your leg checked first. Don’t worry about the venue; everything is set. Once the doctor clears you, the limo will pick us up.” “Okay,” I mumbled. Before I could say anything else, a group of interns walked past, whispering excitedly. “Is Scott really with that girl Nancy? I thought his fiancée was someone else.” “Are you stupid? If it were fake, he would have denied it. Look at how he carried her out of the ward just because she sprained her ankle. He wouldn’t let her take a single step. Now that’s real love.” We followed the sound of their voices down the corridor and saw Scott. Nancy was cradled in his arms, her hands wrapped tightly around his neck, her face buried shyly against his chest. Dominic carried me past them. The hallway was narrow, and we passed so closely that our clothes brushed. Scott’s eyes swept over us carelessly, but he didn’t stop. He leaned down to whisper something in Nancy’s ear, making her giggle. “You skipped your wedding for me today, leaving Vivian alone at the venue,” Nancy murmured. “Aren’t you worried she’ll be heartbroken, or angry?” “No, I did it on purpose,” Scott replied. “Don’t you think it’s fun when she throws those tantrums? Besides, she slapped you last time and embarrassed you in public. You asked me when I’d get back at her, right? This is it. She is too spoiled. If I’m going to marry her, I need to teach her some humility first.” My fingers tightened around Dominic’s collar until my knuckles turned white. Scott’s friends finally caught up, panting heavily. “But Gav, what if she actually marries someone else out of spite? You know how these old-money families are. They’ll grab a random stand-in just to save face.” Scott let out a quiet laugh. “Please. No one else could ever catch her eye. With her temper, if her family tried to force a substitute groom on her, she’d probably wreck the entire banquet hall.” The group burst into laughter, their chuckles echoing off the tiled walls like slaps to my face. The humiliation was suffocating, making me want to vanish. I tugged at Dominic’s collar. “Let’s go, please.” “Dominic?” The familiar voice stopped us in our tracks. I froze entirely, but Dominic remained perfectly calm, turning slowly to face Scott. “Yeah, it’s me.” Scott looked Dominic up and down, raising an eyebrow. “When did you get back to the States?” “Just came back to get married,” Dominic replied smoothly. He gestured slightly toward me. “Meet my fiancée.” Scott’s gaze drifted over to me, but I kept my face buried in Dominic’s shoulder, hiding completely. After a tense silence, Scott let out a slow breath. “Well, look at you, settling down. I thought you’d be the last of us to tie the knot. Congratulations.” Dominic offered a faint, unreadable smile. Before turning away, he slipped a gold-embossed card into Scott’s hand. “Here is the address. The reception is tonight.” Scott looked down at the invitation. The address felt strangely familiar. He looked back at the girl on Dominic’s back, a sudden frown crossing his features. “Wait.” My heart hammered against my ribs, terrified he had recognized me. But in the next second, Scott turned to a passing nurse. “Wait. It’s time to change Nancy’s dressings.” I closed my eyes, realizing how foolish I had been to hold my breath. After my checkup was complete and my leg was freshly bandaged, I finally sat in the back of the wedding limo. My phone vibrated with a text from Scott. The doctor said you got hurt too. Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t reply. Twenty minutes later, another message arrived. Since you’re discharged, go straight home. I’ll worry, wifey. I stared at the word wifey. It was his signature peace offering. I let out a dry laugh, marveling at how perfectly he manipulated my feelings. It reminded me of a night long ago. I had spent hours setting up a romantic dinner, hoping to take our relationship to the next level. The candles were burning low, and the wine was poured. But when his lips were inches from mine, his thumb had gently brushed my chin, pulling back. “We should save this for our wedding night, Vivian. I want to respect you, wifey.” The warmth in his eyes back then had felt so genuine, so protective. I had believed he was the most honorable man in the world. Until a few months later, when I accidentally overheard him talking to his friends at a lounge. “Gav, you and Nancy have crossed every line, but you won’t even touch Vivian? Are you really saving her for marriage, or do you just find her repulsive?” Scott had paused, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “I can’t help it. Every time I think about how her uncle cornered her when she was eighteen, it just makes my skin crawl. Since she is already damaged goods, it is only fair that I have some fun before the wedding, right?” At that moment, it felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. The trauma of my eighteenth year, the locked parlor room, the spiked drink, and my desperate, failed struggle before Scott broke the door down, all of it came rushing back. He had saved me, yes, but he had secretly judged me for the nightmare I couldn’t escape. Since that day, I had stopped fighting with him. I had stopped calling. But he had been too self-absorbed to notice the silence. As the stylist finished securing my veil, my phone rang again. It was Scott. “The fire left me a bit dazed, so I lost track of the date,” his voice came through the speaker, slow and deliberate. “It’s too late for me to make it to the venue now. So, do you want to keep sitting there in your gown like an idiot, or go home and rest? It’s your call.” He was waiting. He was waiting for me to scream, to cry, to beg him to come. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, adjusting my lipstick. “It’s fine, Scott. Actually, I—” A loud crash of shattering glass cut me off on his end, followed by Nancy’s sharp cry. Scott’s tone lost all of its calm composure. “We’ll talk tonight.” The line went dead. I stared at the screen, finding it almost funny. I had wanted to tell him that our engagement had been officially dissolved by my family, and that my groom had been replaced. I wasn’t waiting for him, and I was never going back to his house. But I suppose it didn’t matter anymore. I smiled at my reflection, gathered the skirt of my wedding dress, and walked out of the dressing room. My wedding with Dominic proceeded exactly as scheduled. While the ceremony was underway, Scott was finally tucking Nancy into bed after feeding her dinner. When his phone rang, he answered it casually. But the words from the speaker froze him instantly. “Scott, are you playing some kind of sick joke on us? Didn’t you say the wedding was postponed?” “Did you secretly decide to go through with it because she looked too beautiful in her dress? We’re looking at her right now!” “By the way, Dominic is getting married tonight too, right across the hall from you. Did you guys plan this? You’re literally having competing receptions across the corridor!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “504162”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

We had been blissfully dating online for three months. But the moment we finally met in person, he realized he had added the wrong girl. Connor, our university’s golden boy, swept his gaze over me with an annoyed frown. “I don’t know why you pretended to be the department sweetheart to add me,” he said coldly, “but you’re really not my type. Let’s just delete each other and pretend none of this ever happened.” I nodded, swallowing my embarrassment, and hesitated for a long moment before finding the courage to speak up. “Before we delete each other, could you send me your roommate’s Instagram?” After all, I had just realized that I, too, had added the wrong guy. 1 The silence that followed my words was deafening. Connor’s finger hovered over the screen, freezing right before he could hit block. He stared at me, looking as if he had misheard, his voice cautious. “My roommate? Who? Nolan?” My face burned as he hit the nail on the head. I lowered my head and gave a soft, embarrassed mumble of agreement. Nolan was Hudson University’s resident genius, boasting looks that rivaled Connor’s. Countless girls had crushed on him, so it wasn’t hard to guess. But unlike Connor, whose list of rumors and exes was endless, Nolan was an untouchable, quiet academic. No one had ever managed to get close to him. Connor went silent for a long time, so long that I couldn’t help but look up, ready to plead my case. After all, a girl like me had zero overlap with Nolan’s social circle. “Is it that difficult? I think I actually tried to add him before, but I got the accounts mixed up. If it’s too much trouble, you can just tell me his handle.” Back then, to get Nolan’s Instagram, I had volunteered to write a feature piece on the university’s top student dorms. I ended up adding every single guy from the top three apartments. With so many new contacts flooding in at once, I must have swapped their handles. Well. No wonder things had felt so strange. The Nolan I had been chatting with wasn’t distant or cold at all. In fact, we hit it off so quickly that he confessed his feelings to me within weeks. It turned out to be a massive mix-up. Connor’s expression grew incredibly complex. “Why do you want to reach him?” he asked, trying to sound casual. My mind raced, and I blurted out a perfect excuse. “The student council wants him to record a promotional video for the upcoming semester, but I couldn’t find his direct contact info.” Connor pondered this for another moment before giving a barely perceptible nod. “Fine. How about this? I’ll send you his contact info, and you send me Sienna’s. But let me warn you, Nolan is an arrogant prick. He might not even give you the time of day.” 2 Hearing him mention Sienna’s name again sent a dull ache through my chest. I barely processed his warning, simply nodding like a robot while forcing a smile. I stared at our chat screen, waiting for him to send the contact card. It was incredibly mortifying. On my screen, the very last message Connor had sent me was still sitting there, glowing in the dim light. Babe, can I kiss you when we finally meet? My cheeks flared up. Who could have predicted such a cruel twist of fate? In the span of five minutes, a passionate boyfriend had reverted into a complete stranger. To spare both of us further awkwardness, I tapped the settings and cleared our entire three-month chat history with one tap. Connor caught my movement out of the corner of his eye. His expression darkened further, but he said nothing as he sent over the contact card. I tapped it open immediately, zooming in on the profile picture. Ah. So this was Nolan’s actual account. Their profile pictures were remarkably similar, a dark, minimalist aesthetic. It was an easy mistake to make. I quickly screenshotted the card and tapped the top right corner of Connor’s profile, preparing to delete him as agreed. But before my finger could land, a cold hand wrapped around my wrist. “Let’s not delete each other just yet,” Connor said suddenly. He seemed to search for a reasonable explanation before adding, “Just keep the chat logs cleared. Once I successfully add Sienna, you can remove me. Also, let’s keep this little mix-up between us. I can transfer you ten thousand dollars to make up for your wasted time.” There was a strange, unreadable look in Connor’s eyes as he spoke. But I didn’t dwell on it. He was a legendary figure on campus, a wealthy heir from the finance department. Naturally, he wouldn’t want anyone to know he had spent three months sweet-talking the wrong girl online. Paying for silence was standard procedure for guys like him. Ten thousand dollars was probably just the price of one of his designer jackets. But to me, it was enough to cover my living expenses for a long time. Besides, he had given me Nolan’s real contact info. Any way I looked at it, I was coming out ahead. “Deal,” I said. Under Connor’s darkening gaze, I gave a casual wave of my phone and walked away. 3 The moment I turned the corner, the fake smile slid off my face. I couldn’t pretend to be strong anymore. When I first realized we had added the wrong people, I had hesitated. Even if it was a mistake, the three months of late-night conversations, the shared secrets, and the constant companionship had been real. The butterflies in my stomach and the genuine affection weren’t illusions. Nolan, on the other hand, was just a distant crush, someone I admired from afar but had never actually known. If Connor had shown even a shred of hesitation back there, I would have suggested we try again, starting over as our real selves. But Connor had been so cold, so decisive. He didn’t want me. From the very beginning, the girl he had been looking for was Sienna. 4 On the walk back to my dorm, I couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over. By the time I composed myself and slipped into my room, the lights were about to go out. Connor’s transfer had already cleared. His promptness was a clear reminder to keep my mouth shut around Sienna. Following our agreement, I cleared our brief transaction history and took a deep breath. I turned to Sienna and told her that Connor wanted to add her. Sienna froze, a look of pure delight washing over her face. Still, she seemed skeptical, asking me to confirm multiple times. “Connor from the finance department? Are you guys close? Why would he ask you for my contact?” I made up a plausible lie on the spot. “I interviewed him for a campus piece a while back. He happened to find out we were roommates and asked if I could connect you two.” Sienna nodded, glancing at my empty chat screen with Connor, and didn’t press further. “Thanks, Tessa.” Her eyes sparkled as she stared at her screen. True to form, Connor didn’t make her wait. A second later, her notification light blinked. I climbed up to my bunk and drew the curtains shut, wanting to block out the world. I couldn’t bear to watch them hit it off. But as I closed my eyes, sleep refused to come. For the past three months, my entire life had revolved around my phone. At this exact hour, I would usually be pacing the hallway, whispering sweet nothings into the receiver, or exchanging blushing texts. Just last night, I was imagining walking down the campus avenue under the canopy of old trees with my boyfriend, showing him the stray orange cat I fed behind the library, and booking study rooms together. Now, those dreams were reduced to ash, leaving a hollow ache in my chest. Across the room, the constant pinging of Sienna’s phone and the soft click of her typing served as a relentless reminder. Let it go, Tessa. It’s over. All of Connor’s patience and affection had been meant for Sienna. Even when he whispered those sweet promises, the face in his mind had been hers, never mine. Since he had corrected the course, I needed to stop drowning in the past. I typed out one final message to Connor, a polite notice before removing him for good. Hey Connor, I’ve passed along your contact to Sienna. I’ll be deleting you now, as promised. 5 No goodbyes. There was no point. I paused for a brief second, preparing to tap the block button, when a reply popped up. Wait. My finger froze. The status at the top of the screen changed to ‘typing…’, but no message came through for a long time. After what felt like an eternity, he finally sent a follow-up. I just remembered, the imported medicine you asked me to get for your grandmother has already been shipped by my friend. It should arrive in about two weeks. Let’s keep each other added until I can hand it over to you. His words jarred my memory. A few weeks ago, I had offhandedly mentioned that my grandmother’s heart condition required a specific imported medication that was incredibly difficult to find locally. Connor had immediately offered to have a friend source it from abroad. I quickly typed back. Thank you, Connor. I completely forgot about that. Let’s keep each other added until the medicine arrives. A few seconds passed before a simple reply came back. Okay. I realized I should pay him first. By the way, how much was the medicine and shipping? I can transfer the money to you now. My family wasn’t well-off, and my grandmother usually refused to buy expensive medication to save money. But the money Connor had just sent me was more than enough to cover the cost. I waited for his reply, staring at the screen until my eyes began to burn. No response came. A wave of bitterness washed over me. Before today, Connor would reply to my messages within seconds. Even if I had a nightmare in the middle of the night, he would stay awake to soothe me. Now, our texts were stiff, distant, and colder than those of mere acquaintances. “Oh my god, Connor, your gaming rank is insane! You have to carry me tonight!” Sienna’s sweet voice suddenly echoed through the quiet dorm. My chest tightened. He wasn’t replying to me because he was already busy playing games with Sienna. Sienna had her headphones on, but she laughed, her voice dripping with affection. “My voice isn’t that pretty. You’re just saying that to flatter me.” “Be honest, how many girls have you used that line on?” “Come on, a guy like you must have a long line of admirers. Don’t lie to me, or your next food delivery won’t come with utensils!” Her giggles were endless. Even though she tried to keep her voice down, the sound pierced right through me, bringing a flood of sorrow. Their beginning was going much smoother than ours ever had. I suppose this was how it was always meant to be. I found my earplugs, shoving them in to drown out the noise, and let the tears flow freely in the dark. 6 After that painful wake-up call, I didn’t have the courage to reach out to the real Nolan. I dragged myself through each day, pasting on a fake smile, though my energy was entirely depleted. Moving on takes time, I kept telling myself. It was just a silly misunderstanding. I’ll get over it. But while I was struggling to stay afloat, Sienna and Connor were thriving. Connor started showing up in Sienna’s life constantly. He would walk her to her 8 AM lectures, wait in long lines at the cafeteria to buy her favorite meals, and sit patiently for hours outside her dance studio while she practiced. Sienna brought back designer snacks and pastries to the dorm daily, gushing about his thoughtfulness. Their social media feeds were filled with subtle hints of romantic dates and luxury gifts. Within a week, the entire campus knew they were official. They were the perfect, high-profile couple, radiant and envied by everyone. Unlike me. I was just a shadow who had briefly stolen a piece of someone else’s affection in a digital world. I began actively avoiding any place where Connor might appear. But with our campus being so small and Sienna being in my department, encounters were inevitable. One afternoon, in a narrow, quiet corridor, I stumbled upon them. Against the backdrop of a fiery sunset reflecting through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Sienna stood on her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss against Connor’s lips. Connor’s gaze darkened with intensity as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. I froze, my mind going entirely blank. I forgot to turn around, forgot to run. It was only when Connor’s hand slid down to tickle Sienna’s waist, causing her to let out a soft gasp, that I snapped out of it. My eyes locked right into Connor’s. His gaze was cold and annoyed, as if I were an intrusive pest ruining their moment. A shiver ran down my spine. “Sorry,” I whispered, turning to flee as fast as my legs could carry me. I didn’t stop running until I burst out of the academic building, gasping for air. But before I could even catch my breath, my phone vibrated. The profile picture I had tried so hard to forget was lighting up my screen. Tessa, didn’t we agree to end this gracefully? I hope you’ll stop staring at Sienna and me. If she finds out even a tiny detail, I won’t let it slide. Also, please stop any feelings that shouldn’t be there.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “504147”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 For my birthday, I booked a private banquet room at the finest hotel in town. The guests, friends, and colleagues had all arrived, and the atmosphere was perfect. But just as the dinner was about to begin, the hotel host smiled and tapped the microphone. “Next up, let’s welcome our two birthday stars to the stage!” I froze. Two? Then, Becca, a colleague notorious around the office for her cheap, freeloading ways, walked up to the stage with a beaming smile. “Surprise, everyone! Naomi and I actually planned this together. Our birthdays are on the exact same day, so we figured, why not share the party? The more the merrier!” She turned to me, her voice dripping with mock warmth. “Right, babe? We’re practically sisters. Today’s feast is on us, so please, don’t hold back!” She smiled sweetly, clearly betting that with the company executives watching, I wouldn’t dare make a scene to call her out. Looking at the party I had poured my heart and hard-earned money into designing, only to have her hijack it, a cold sneer formed in my chest. Fine. Since she loved celebrating her birthday so much, I would make sure today became a day she would never forget as long as she lived. Listening to Becca’s shameless speech, I trembled with rage. When had I ever agreed to share my birthday? I stood up, preparing to object, but the senior executives in the front row were already leading a round of applause. “Wonderful concept! It’s both economical and lively. Our younger staff really know how to think outside the box.” “The venue looks stunning too. Since the organizer has such talent, maybe we should hand over the company’s annual gala to our younger employees next year.” Hearing this, Becca’s eyes lit up. She nodded eagerly, taking full credit for the planning without a shred of hesitation. I was utterly dumbfounded. Not only had she hijacked my party, but she was also stealing my work as a stepping stone to boost her own career. We weren’t even close, let alone friends. I couldn’t let this slide. I took a step forward, ready to storm the stage, but my immediate supervisor grabbed my wrist. He had clearly sensed the tension and knew something was off, but he hissed a quiet warning in my ear. “Naomi, I don’t care what’s going on here, but you cannot make a scene right now. Those executives are from headquarters, and they absolutely despise office politics. If you ruin this event, not only will you be fired, but our entire branch will suffer the consequences.” His words felt like a bucket of ice water, completely extinguishing my hot rage. I froze. Marcus was right. I had spent so much money on this dinner to make a good impression on the higher-ups and secure a promotion. If I blew things up now, even if I exposed Becca, my career at the firm would be finished. But swallowing this bitter pill felt like choking on glass. Before I could figure out what to do, Becca called my name. She smiled and pulled me up onto the stage, playing the generous mentor who loved supporting the younger generation. “And here is my dear friend, Naomi, who shares this special day with me! She’s still a junior, but she’s incredibly sharp. She was a huge help in bringing my vision to life.” With a few sweet words, she erased all my effort, framing my hard work as merely helping her, while presenting herself as the benevolent senior sharing the spotlight. The executives looked at her with growing admiration. In their eyes, Becca was already a highly capable, generous mentor. My throat felt dry, but under the gaze of the corporate elite, I could only plaster on a fake smile and nod. When that agonizing segment finally ended, I rushed backstage to find my work friends to vent, but they avoided my gaze, slipping away like I was infectious. 2 They whispered behind my back. “I can’t believe Naomi. Why didn’t she tell us she was sharing the party with Becca? She told us not to bring cash gifts, so we only bought a small present for her. Now we look incredibly awkward in front of Becca.” “Honestly, she seems so calculating. Her family always seemed well-off, but she’s just as cheap as Becca. Maybe that’s how she saves her money, by freeloading off others.” My chest tightened. They already saw us as birds of a feather. The office relationships I had spent months carefully nurturing had vanished in a single instant. Trembling with frustration, I grabbed a passing server. “What is going on here? Who gave you permission to add another person to my booking?” The server looked bewildered. After checking my original booking and communication logs, her face grew serious, and she apologized profusely. “I am so sorry, Ms. Naomi. Our staff must have made a terrible error. Please wait here. I’ll get the manager to clear this up immediately.” I stood there, arms crossed, waiting for a proper explanation. Soon, the manager walked over, his expression stiff. Before I could even start complaining, he cut me off with an irritated tone. “Ms. Naomi, we’ve reviewed the situation. There has been no error on our end. Ms. Becca came to us this morning and explicitly told us this was a shared party. We even scrambled to add extra staff, and we didn’t even charge you for the extra labor. We’ve been more than accommodating. Besides, if you didn’t agree to it, why didn’t you say anything on stage?” I stared at him, my anger boiling over. “Are you serious right now? Your staff made a massive blunder, and now you’re blaming me for not starting a fistfight in front of my company’s board of directors? Anyone can just walk in, claim they share a reservation, and you don’t even bother to verify it with the person who paid the deposit? Is this how a luxury hotel operates?” The manager stuttered, unable to find a logical excuse under my fierce gaze. Instead, he resorted to condescending lecturing. “Look, young lady, why must you be so difficult? Life is about relationships. Your colleague just got praised by the executives, meaning her future is bright. Instead of using this chance to build a connection, you’re here trying to pick a fight over petty details. Besides, didn’t you get the party you paid for? The venue, the food, the service, it’s all here. You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” I could barely believe my ears. Not only were they refusing to fix their mistake, but they were actually lecturing me on business etiquette. “What did I get? Why should I spend my hard-earned money just so someone else can ride my coattails for free? Your hotel completely breached the contract we signed! Either you offer me a reasonable compensation plan right now, or I demand a full refund!” The moment “full refund” left my mouth, the manager’s face darkened, and he let out a sneering laugh. “I knew it. A young girl like you couldn’t actually afford a banquet of this scale. You’re just trying to find an excuse to scam us out of a free meal, aren’t you?” Just then, Becca walked over, wearing a sickeningly sweet, placating smile. “Oh, Naomi, don’t ruin a perfectly good birthday by fighting. The manager is right. You got your party, so demanding a refund is just cheap. We can’t behave like freeloaders, can we?” The manager nodded eagerly. “Exactly! Ms. Becca is far more reasonable. No wonder the executives like her.” The two of them stood there, tag-teaming to gaslight me, completely ignoring the rage radiating from me. “Manager, is it time to bring out the cake? Everyone is waiting,” Becca asked. The manager turned to order the staff, but I snapped, “What cake? That cake was custom-made for my birthday, and I paid for it. Who said you could serve it? I don’t consent!” Becca grabbed my arm, her tone dripping with mock sisterly correction. “Come on, Naomi, stop acting like a spoiled brat. I told you, we’re sharing. I brought a cake too. We’ll bring them both out, blow the candles together, and make it twice as fun!” Despite my sharp refusal, the manager rolled his eyes and barked at a nearby server. “What are you standing there for? Go bring the cakes out! If you waste any more time, I’m docking your pay for the month!” Terrified of losing her salary, the server scurried away. Before I could argue further, the pastry carts were rolled into the banquet hall. Leading the way was my custom-made, five-tier birthday cake, covered in intricate frosting and delicate sugar flowers. But right behind it, resting in a giant, greasy stainless steel mixing basin, was a pile of dry, cheap, yellow grocery-store sponge muffins. 3 The guests stared in absolute silence at the giant steel basin of dry yellow muffins. I wanted to laugh from sheer rage. I turned to Becca. “Is this what you called a cake? Who brings a metal basin of cheap muffins to a high-end banquet?” Becca gasped, looking offended. “Naomi, how can you say that? A cake is a cake! Back in my parents’ day, getting an egg on your birthday was a luxury! Your cake looks fancy, but it’s probably packed with artificial colors and chemical preservatives. I didn’t even criticize you for bringing such unhealthy food to our colleagues, and now you’re judging my muffins?” Furious at her twisted logic, I shook her hand off my arm and headed toward the stage to wheel my custom cake away. But before I could even climb the stairs, Becca shouted into the microphone. “Oh, Naomi! You’re so eager to cut the cake! I get it, you’re young, and seeing such a pretty cake is exciting. Since you’re so enthusiastic, I’ll let you do the honors of slicing it for everyone!” With those sweet words, she effectively claimed my custom five-tier cake as her own. To the crowd, it now looked like I was the one who had brought a giant basin of cheap muffins to share. The looks of disgust and confusion from my colleagues intensified. No one could understand why anyone would bring a dog bowl of dry sponge muffins to a professional gathering. Becca walked onto the stage, took the silver cake knife, and began cutting my expensive cake. I watched in silence as she sliced the finest, most beautifully decorated portions of my cake and served them directly to the senior executives and managers, eager to curry favor. Meanwhile, the regular staff were handed the dry, yellow muffins from the metal basin, some of which had been clumsily scooped out with a metal spoon, looking like mashed potatoes. My colleagues stared at the dry muffins on their plates, their faces grim. Nobody took a single bite. They only remained in the room out of respect for the executives, not because they wanted to celebrate with us. I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles turned white. My money, my planning, and my special night had been ruined, and I had managed to alienate half the office because of her stunt. The executives took a few polite bites of my cake, their estimation of Becca rising even higher. Becca liked to play poor, but her family wasn’t actually broke. The heavy gold chains and rings she wore today were particularly flashy. The executives, unfamiliar with her reputation, assumed she was the one who had ordered the gorgeous five-tier cake. One of them looked at me and offered a patronizing lecture. “Naomi, it’s great that you wanted to celebrate with your colleagues, but you shouldn’t compromise on quality just because of your personal budget.” “This is just a private party, so a basin of muffins is fine. But if you handle a company gala like this in the future, it would reflect poorly on our firm.” The anger finally broke through. I opened my mouth to defend myself. “Actually, that cake was—” Before I could finish, Becca lunged forward, her elbow slamming violently into my ribs. The sharp pain took my breath away. She quickly turned to the executive, smiling warmly. “Please don’t mind her, sir. Junior staff often lack experience with these things. Don’t worry, I’ll mentor her closely to make sure she doesn’t make this kind of mistake again.” Then, she turned to me, her voice dripping with mock sisterly teasing that firmly pinned the blame on me. “Naomi, you’ll have to make it up to everyone with some real cakes next week, okay? Otherwise, nobody will want to work with you!” Staring at the judging eyes of my colleagues and the dismissive nods of the executives, I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and ran out of the banquet hall. Standing in the cool night air outside the hotel, I took several deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Becca wanted to share my birthday so badly? Fine. Since I had already paid the deposit, it was only fair that she handled the rest of the bill.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “504163”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel