Category: English

Roxy North was the entertainment industry’s resident tough girl. When she was photographed getting a little too friendly with several male celebrities, her response was sharp: “We’re just bros. A dirty mind sees dirt everywhere.” When the tabloids caught her seemingly breaking up the golden couple—A-list actor Owen Scott and the angelic Isabella Vance—she scoffed. “He’s like a brother to me. Girls are always so dramatic and suspicious. That’s why I can’t hang out with them.” Not long after, my sister, Isabella, tried to kill herself. Hounded by reporters, Roxy turned the tables. “What does her suicide have to do with me? Don’t try to pin this on me just to squeeze some money out of it.” Owen was crucified online, branded a two-timing cheat. My sister was dragged for being a drama queen who brought it on herself. Even my family was cyberbullied, accused of faking our grief for a payout. Through it all, Roxy’s tough-girl persona held strong. She built her fame on my sister’s grave, capitalizing on the tragedy to become a household name. Three years later, I entered the industry, my face an uncanny reflection of the sister I had lost. And now, I was on a reality show with Roxy North. 1 The moment the cast for the new challenge-based reality show was revealed, the internet exploded. “Whoa, that face… she’s a dead ringer for Isabella Vance!” “Is this what they mean by a ghost from the past? The resemblance is insane!” “My heart just stopped. For a second, I thought my angel was back. The likeness is unreal.” “It’s not just her face. Even her name is similar.” “Wait, isn’t Roxy North on this season too? Oh, this is going to be good.” “My girl Roxy is on the show! I’m so here for this!” Roxy’s reputation preceded her. Three years ago, she and the heartthrob Owen Scott were on a dating show. Her edgy, no-nonsense attitude next to his gentle, humble demeanor created a shipping frenzy. After the show wrapped, paparazzi snapped them together constantly. She’d visit his movie sets; they’d be seen entering the same hotel, one after the other. Shippers dug up photos of them wearing matching bracelets and using identical phone cases. They even found vacation photos, posted separately, that were clearly taken in the same spot. The final nail in the coffin was a picture Roxy posted on her social media: a thermos of steaming hot chicken soup. The caption read, “Thanks to a certain someone for the homemade broth.” That post sent their names trending worldwide. The shippers went wild. “OH MY GOD, MY SHIP IS REAL!” “Is this it? Is this the official announcement?” “I love this dynamic. She’s the powerhouse, and he’s the supportive one at home. Roxy is such a boss!” But Owen, the supposed other half of this romance, repeatedly set the record straight. “Please don’t believe everything you read online. Ms. North and I are just colleagues.” Every time he did, Roxy would be the first to comment. “Don’t listen to the rumors, guys. I see Owen as a brother, and we work for the same agency. It’s not what you think.” Her non-denial denials only fanned the flames. “We get it, the studio won’t let you go public!” “Owen, why are you so shy? Be a man like Roxy!” “‘Just colleagues.’ Riiight. Suuuure.” As their fame skyrocketed, a bombshell dropped: Owen was already living with someone. That someone was my sister, the ethereal beauty, Isabella Vance. Isabella had been by his side since the beginning, long before he won his first major award eight years ago. Fans quickly realized all the “couple’s items” Owen owned were actually matching sets with Isabella, not Roxy. The shippers couldn’t handle it. They turned on Owen, savaging him for leading them on. They launched a brutal hate campaign against Isabella. Owen tried to fight back, releasing photos and statements proving he and Isabella were the real couple. But to his heartbroken fans, it was all lies. His attempts only enraged them further. Buried under an avalanche of online hate and real-world doxing, Isabella sank into a deep depression and retired from acting. But the harassment didn’t stop. Someone leaked her home address. Tormented by strangers at her door, Isabella finally broke. She slit her wrists, ending her life. Devastated, Owen quit the industry and vanished from public life. And Roxy, the third point in this tragic triangle, faced the cameras with tears in her eyes, playing the innocent victim. “I’ve always been one of the guys, that’s just who I am. What does her suicide have to do with me? I’m a victim here too, you know. Don’t abandon your conscience just to get a payout.” She was talking about my family, implying our fight for justice was nothing but a cash grab. Roxy took a six-month “healing” break, while the world condemned my sister for being weak and Owen for being a cheater. When Roxy returned, her fanbase hadn’t just recovered; it had grown. She had successfully profited from a tragedy, her tough-girl image stronger than ever. She used every handsome co-star as a stepping stone, manufacturing rumors to climb higher and higher. And now, here we were, Roxy and I, standing together in front of the cameras. When the producer yelled, “Let the challenge begin!” I heard a death knell tolling. It was for Roxy. Your time is up, Roxy. This is where your story ends. 2 The first event was a three-round challenge. In the first round, we’d draw lots. Whatever we drew, we had to touch it, blindfolded, for a full minute to win. The loser would face a penalty. There were supposed to be three female contestants, but one dropped out due to illness. Roxy, her competitive streak showing, immediately picked me as her opponent. Beating the new girl who looked so much like her old rival would be a satisfying victory for her. As we prepped, she shot me a smug look, chin high. “Annabelle, honey, I know you’re new here, but a competition is a competition. I won’t go easy on you.” My face was a mask of indifference. I gave her a look one might reserve for a particularly stupid insect. Then, I turned to a staffer and asked for a blindfold, slipping it over my eyes without another word. I was afraid another look at her would make me puke. The show was broadcasting live, every move captured for the world to see. The comments section was already buzzing. “Roxy’s competitive fire is on full display! Go, girl!” “She’s so focused this time. I feel bad for the other girl, she might actually cry if she loses.” “What’s with this Annabelle girl’s attitude? Roxy is a veteran. Show some respect.” “People like her don’t last long in this business.” My coldness seemed to momentarily throw Roxy off, but it only fueled her desire to win. “See? This is why I don’t get along with girls,” she said, loud enough for the mics to pick up. “But I’m not like those guys who go soft on a pretty face. Don’t come crying to me when you lose.” She waved a hand, letting a crew member tie on her blindfold before striding to the table with feigned confidence. If I hadn’t overheard her bribing the director’s assistant for an easy draw, I might have actually believed she was fearless. But she had no idea this show, and its director, David Shaw, were famous for one thing: authenticity. Shaw was notoriously fair and unbribable. I wondered what her face would look like when she realized her challenge was very, very real. Fear thrives in the unknown. With your sight gone, every other sense screams. I felt a cool, scaly sensation on my forearm. A slender body slithered up my arm, a forked tongue flicking against my bare skin. I heard the faint, tell-tale hiss. I knew instantly what it was. A small smile touched my lips. How fun. I held out my other hand, and as if it understood, the small snake glided onto it. For the next minute, I and the little creature moved in a quiet, harmonious dance for the cameras. When the timer buzzed, I slowly removed my blindfold. A small, pink corn snake was coiled peacefully around my wrist. I affectionately rubbed my cheek against its head. It didn’t react with aggression, only a gentle flick of its tongue. On the other side of the stage, Roxy’s turn was just beginning. The moment her fingers brushed against the object, she shrieked and snatched her hand back. “What the hell is that thing?!” Her voice trembled with undisguised terror. Realizing her overreaction, she quickly tried to play it off. “Whoa, it’s cold! But I’m fine, I’m fine.” Despite her words, her hand felt like it was weighed down by lead. She couldn’t bring herself to reach out again. Behind the cameras, Director Shaw’s brow furrowed. He had no patience for time-wasting. “One full minute of contact, or you forfeit the round.” A staffer began a loud, public countdown. Forced, Roxy gritted her teeth and extended her hand again. This time, she lasted a single second before a full-blown scream tore from her throat. “Get it off me!” She seized the small lizard on the table and hurled it across the room like a grenade. In that instant, the director’s calm voice announced, “Annabelle wins.” I felt no joy in the victory. I walked slowly to the corner where the stunned lizard lay. Though they are cold-blooded, these were pet-grade animals, completely harmless. I gently scooped it into my hands. After the trauma it had just endured, the tiny creature gave my finger a weak, harmless bite. I asked my assistant to take it to a vet. That small act of kindness completely shifted the mood in the live chat. “Holy crap, Annabelle has nerves of steel!” “Did you guys see that? She didn’t even flinch. She smiled!” “Okay, but was anyone else horrified by Roxy? Who just throws a living creature like that?” Of course, Roxy’s die-hard fans rushed to her defense. “Seriously? What girl isn’t scared of reptiles?” “LMAO, that’s a normal reaction for any girl.” “She was just startled, give her a break.” “But… hasn’t Roxy always bragged about being a tough girl? Didn’t she say she loved cold-blooded animals?” “She said she likes snakes, not lizards! It’s different!” Even now, her fans were trying to spin it. 3 Holding up my wrist, with the pink corn snake still coiled around it, I walked slowly toward Roxy. The snake lifted its head, its tiny, black-bead eyes fixed on her. “Roxy,” I said sweetly. “I heard you love snakes. Want to pet him?” The live chat was already a warzone over her reaction. Roxy’s face was pale. A glance at her manager’s thunderous expression told me she knew she’d screwed up. She had been exposed. But I kept advancing, step by step. If her blindfolded panic could be excused as fear of the unknown, her reaction now, with her eyes wide open, would be far more telling. If she flinched, if she refused, her entire tough-girl persona would shatter. Roxy squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep, fortifying breath before shakily extending a hand. Just then, the snake flicked its tongue out. Mistaking the movement for a strike, Roxy shrieked and yanked her hand back, a raw sound of terror escaping her lips. Even then, she tried to salvage it, forcing a pained smile. “He’s cute. So… pink.” Her fans immediately latched onto it. “See! She’s a total badass! Anyone who doubted her can shut up now!” “She touched it! Are the haters happy now?” In a spot the cameras couldn’t see, Roxy was frantically scrubbing her hand with a sanitary wipe. When she caught my eye, she shot me a look of pure venom. I couldn’t help but smile. The fun was just getting started. Because Roxy lost, she had to face the penalty. I looked at the director, my eyes wide with feigned anticipation. “I wonder what the punishment is?” Director Shaw waved a hand, and a staffer walked out carrying a large black box. I caught the brief, meaningful look that passed between Roxy and the staff member. Sure enough, a moment later, Roxy pulled a slip of paper from the box and announced with forced cheerfulness, “It’s the water balloon challenge!” One of the male contestants stepped in. “Isn’t that a little harsh? You can’t have a girl’s makeup get ruined on live TV.” But Roxy just laughed, as if she had it all under control. “It’s just a water balloon. What’s there to be afraid of?” Her fans roared with approval. “Our Roxy isn’t like those other divas who are scared of showing their bare face!” “Exactly! She’s a natural beauty! She’s said publicly she hates wearing makeup!” “This is nothing for her!” Since her debut, Roxy had cultivated an image of being an all-natural, tough-as-nails girl. She’d claimed on talk shows that she’d never had a pimple in her life and hated the sticky feeling of foundation on her skin. When a host asked about her skincare routine, she’d proudly declared she used nothing but a cheap, drugstore lotion. The reality? Her makeup routine took four hours. She was obsessed with achieving a “no-makeup” look, and she terrorized makeup artists over the tiniest imperfection. While everyone was distracted, I slipped backstage, pulled a large bottle of a mysterious liquid from my bag, and poured its contents into the water balloon tank. Let’s show the world the real you, Roxy. She sat on the stool beneath the balloon, watching with a confident smirk as it filled with water. Seconds later, it burst with a loud POP. Water cascaded over her. Drenched, she tried to play it cool, slicking her hair back and wiping her face with a hand. But then she noticed the silence. Everyone was staring at her, their expressions a mixture of shock and disgust. “What? What is it?” She looked down at her hand. It was covered in a thick, beige sludge. Her foundation. She brought her hand to her nose and sniffed. A faint, chemical scent clung to her skin. Makeup remover. I’d poured an entire bottle into the water. The online audience, now seeing Roxy’s real face for the first time, went into an unprecedented frenzy. “Who the hell is that?!” “Her skin looks older than my mom’s!” “I thought she said she never wears makeup…” “IS ANYTHING ABOUT HER REAL?!” Roxy, seeing her own disastrous reflection in a monitor, clutched her face and fled the stage.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “394463”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My roommate is a competitive show-off who always speaks in sarcasm. When someone posted about being insecure due to illness-related obesity, she commented below: “I’m so jealous you can be soft and chubby. I’m 5’3″ and only 110 pounds. Please share your weight gain tips.” When someone celebrated escaping their toxic family, she posted screenshots of her parents doting on her, adding: “Support you. My mom forgot to give me my goodnight kiss today. So mad.” Because I’m mute, she’s never taken me seriously. Until our dorm dinner, when a child complimented me on my looks— She AI-generated photos of me drinking with different men in bars and posted them online. “I’m so jealous of my roommate. She’s so beautiful and gets to hang out with so many guys.” “Unlike me—not only am I not as pretty as her, I’ve never even held a man’s hand.” The comments below all called me a slut while praising her as a pure innocent flower. Soon, the rumors spread. I was reported and lost my guaranteed admission to an Ivy League graduate program. She took the replacement spot and looked at me: “Lyra, being mute means you have to take your losses in silence.” “But honestly, I really envy that you get to experience society. Unlike me—I can only go to grad school.” Looking at her smug expression, I narrowed my eyes. What she doesn’t know is that I’m not actually mute. I don’t speak because I have the supernatural ability of reality manifestation through words. Since she loves speaking in reverse so much, I’ll make her reverse words come true.

“What’s that awful smell?” In the classroom, Clara circled around me, covering her nose in disgust. “Lyra, you should really get yourself checked out. I swear there’s a nasty smell coming from you.” Hearing her words, the students sitting near me immediately scattered. I only smell like soap, but no one cares about that except me. Their gazes swept over me like searchlights, as if they wanted to strip me naked. “I knew I smelled something earlier—turns out it’s her!” “Stay away from her. Playing around that much, who knows what diseases she’s carrying. I’m done for if I catch something!” “She kept looking at me during class. Is she feeling the itch? I don’t want this kind of trash!” Overwhelming shame engulfed me. I almost bent down to smell myself. I glared furiously at the smug Clara, wanting to explain but unable to speak a single word. Because I was reckless as a child and caused plenty of trouble with my reality manifestation ability, my mom took me to many places. We finally found a temple where a master helped seal my vocal cords, warning me: “This is a great fortune. You cannot use it carelessly—it damages your karmic merit.” He gave my mom a vial of medicine: “When the child understands right from wrong, you can use this to break the seal. Then she’ll be able to speak normally.” My mom gave me the medicine when I left for college. “Honey, being mute isn’t so bad. Once you start using this ability, it’ll be very hard to stop.” “I’m giving this to you so you have a way to protect yourself. Promise me you won’t misuse it, okay?” For over a decade, I’d never wanted to speak this badly. I tried to explain in sign language, but no one could understand. At that moment, my phone rang. It was my academic advisor. A flicker of hope rose in my heart—had the school cleared things up? After I answered, the advisor’s cold voice came through. “Lyra, due to your personal conduct issues, the school is revoking your scholarship and financial aid.” “Additionally, you need to submit a ten-thousand-word self-criticism to the Academic Affairs Office tomorrow.” “Do you have any objections? Speak now.” I anxiously made sounds, but all I heard was the busy tone of a disconnected call. At the same time, Clara answered a phone call. “Clara, the department just had a scholarship spot open up. It’s been reassigned to you. Come fill out the paperwork.” It was the advisor’s voice. After Clara hung up, she saw me glaring at her viciously and smiled. “Lyra, I really don’t want this money, but what can I do about the school’s decision?” “Oh right, I forgot you need this money for your mom’s medical bills.” “But I’ve always envied you for juggling school with three part-time jobs—such a fulfilling life. Unlike me—all I can do is travel and see the world.” I couldn’t be bothered arguing with her. I turned to go find the advisor. My mom had a sudden heart attack this year, and her health has been deteriorating. This money was all I needed to get her a cardiac stent procedure. Before I could even leave the classroom, I heard a familiar voice. “You’re spreading lies! My daughter would never do these things!” It was my mom’s voice. And it was coming from Clara’s phone!

I rushed over and snatched the phone away. In a livestream, a man was holding forth: “Everyone, support Clara! Let’s see what the mom who raised such a slut looks like!” “Maybe the daughter learned it from the mother? You all say I’m so manly—what if she takes a liking to me!” “Actually, never mind. She’s been played into the hospital—bit too dirty for me!” As he spoke, he turned the camera toward my mom lying pale in her hospital bed. The man threw a handful of photos onto her, his voice dripping with malice. “Do you know your daughter’s selling herself out there?” “Did you introduce her clients? Why don’t you two offer a package deal—sell yourselves together. Business might be even better!” My mom lunged at him angrily, like a furious lioness: “Get out! My daughter would never do such things! If you keep slandering her, I’m calling the police!” Her emotions grew more and more agitated, yet her face grew paler. Suddenly, she clutched her chest and collapsed onto the hospital bed! The man panicked and left without pressing the call button for help. My hands trembled as I dialed the hospital, trying to call a doctor for my mom. But when the call connected, I couldn’t say a single word! I could only listen as the nurse on the other end said “Hello?” twice before hanging up. I looked pleadingly at my classmates—people I’d spent day and night with—but they all avoided my gaze, looking toward Clara instead. Thick despair consumed me. Clara laughed lightly: “Lyra, don’t worry. I’ve always thought you were so free without a father—one less person controlling you.” “Maybe you’ll be completely free soon. Unlike me—my parents make me call them every day to check in. Later I’ll just have to go home and inherit the family business. No autonomy at all.” The surrounding students began flattering Clara. “That’s not no freedom. That kind of life—I’d literally get on my knees to accept it.” Clara looked at me provocatively amid the crowd’s adulation. I ignored her, just kept messaging and calling my mom’s attending physician. I don’t know how much time passed before the doctor finally answered. Knowing I couldn’t speak, he reassured me while checking his messages. His voice grew serious. Soon, my mom was rushed to the operating room. My taut nerves finally relaxed slightly. My back was already soaked with cold sweat. Clara walked up to me, her gaze challenging: “Lyra, I’ve discovered being mute is actually really nice. You’re always so quiet, giving people a sense of emotional stability.” “I just got the scholarship, so I’m treating the whole class to afternoon tea. I’m so envious that your money can go toward saving your mom—so meaningful!” “Unlike me—I have no worries at all. My money can only be used for enjoyment.” With bloodshot eyes, I shoved her hand away and rushed toward the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital, the surgery was still ongoing. I don’t know how long passed before the operating room doors opened! I rushed forward urgently, looking at the doctor. The doctor shook his head heavily. “Your mother’s body was already weak, and we got to her too late this time.” “We did our best. She’s now in a vegetative state. With good care, she might wake up—it’s just that the costs will be quite high.” The doctor looked at me with difficulty, taking in my clothes washed so many times they’d faded to white. I staggered, my eyes erupting with bone-deep hatred. Clara must pay the price! Since she loves speaking in reverse so much, I’ll make it come true for her.

I first went into the hospital room, stroking my mom’s pale, gaunt face, my heart full of self-reproach. Because of my reality manifestation ability, my dad treated me like a monster. It was my mom who resolutely divorced him and left our hometown with me, searching for a solution. But now she was lying in bed because of me, with no telling when she might wake up. I deposited most of my part-time job earnings into her medical account. Then I went back to the dorm to find the medicine. When I pushed open the dorm door, I found my area in complete disarray. My desk was piled with junk, my closet had been opened, and my clothes were thrown on the floor, covered in gray footprints. I took a deep breath and decided to find the medicine first. I’d hidden it in a storage box at the foot of my bed. As soon as I climbed onto my bed, I discovered the entire bedding was wet and reeked of an unidentifiable stench. But fortunately, my storage box was still there. I pulled out the key and opened it, tucking the intact vial of medicine into my pocket. I needed to find a place with no people to use it, ensuring I wouldn’t be interrupted. As I climbed down, Clara watched my lack of reaction and pouted with boredom: “Lyra, I’m so envious of emotionally stable people like you. Even when we accidentally spilled mop water on your bed, you don’t get angry.” “Unlike me—my parents spoiled me so much I can’t handle the slightest grievance.” The other roommates quickly chimed in: “That’s actually better! Having a real personality means not getting bullied. Not like Lyra—what a doormat!” Their mockery didn’t change my expression one bit. Because her retribution was about to arrive. I left the dorm and checked into a hotel for an hourly room. I took out the medicine from my pocket and was about to apply it to my lips when the door was suddenly shoved open. Clara burst in, livestreaming. “Everyone, my roommate just came back to the dorm to get something, then rushed out again.” “I was worried something would happen to her, so I followed. I can’t believe she came here to rent a room!” “I can’t just watch my roommate fall this far!” After Clara rushed in and found only me in the room, disappointment flickered in her eyes. When she saw me bringing the medicine to my lips, her face took on a pitying expression. “Lyra, I actually really envy that you can’t speak—saves so much social hassle.” “But even if you’re dissatisfied, you can’t just put random unlabeled medicine in your mouth. Aren’t you afraid of poisoning yourself?” Comments flew rapidly through the livestream: “Liked. Clara is beautiful and kind-hearted. She even feels sorry for this kind of trash person—way too nice.” “Clara’s right. There’s so much meaningless socializing in society now. Being mute means she can avoid so many hassles!” “Exactly. She just can’t speak—there are people way worse off than her. I don’t know what she’s putting on an act for!” Clara smiled with satisfaction. At an angle the livestream couldn’t see, she reached out and pushed the medicine into my mouth. Half the medicine went down my throat, half spilled on my lips. An intense burning sensation spread across my mouth. Pain appeared on my face. Clara sighed, looking at me. “Lyra, I really envy your courage and freedom—you dare to consume anything. You get to experience so many things.” “Unlike me—my parents only allow things verified by professionals into my mouth.” The livestream comments uniformly read: “Good advice can’t save a ghost determined to die. Clara, don’t learn from her. This kind of trash has a hard life. Your delicate body can’t handle such treatment!” At that moment, a hoarse voice spoke. “Clara, are you speaking from your heart?”

Clara looked at me as if she’d seen a ghost. I stared straight at Clara, questioning her: “Do you really want to become mute? Do you really want to play around with lots of men? Do you really want a college life working three part-time jobs?” I returned her previous words to her, one sentence at a time. Clara’s face turned iron-gray from my questioning, but with the livestream still running, she couldn’t slap herself in the face. She gritted her teeth and nodded. The livestream started praising her again. “See everyone? Some people said Clara was being passive-aggressive and deliberately showing off, but these are clearly her true feelings!” “Protecting the world’s most straightforward and sincere Clara!” I smiled. “Clara, those are your words. So from now on, every sincere word you speak will come true.” With that, I walked past her and left the hotel. I didn’t go to the hospital. Instead, I came to an old residential complex. After Clara started doing social media, she went viral with her persona of a naive young heiress. Every month she’d have a livestream, posting malicious remarks under various videos. A pet blogger posted a video showing her face. Fans all said the blogger was beautiful. She commented: “I’m so envious that you’re cat is so well-behaved. Unlike mine—a little rebel. What method do you use to make your cat so obedient?” One ambiguous sentence led Clara’s fans to directly attack the blogger for animal abuse. When the blogger tried to defend herself, extreme fans found her address and fed her cat poisoned treats. With no evidence left, it ended with the blogger’s mental breakdown and withdrawal from the internet. Even a middle schooler who simply posted a video recording her joy at academic improvement— She commented below: “Really envious of how smart you are, improving so fast. Unlike me—I can only progress step by step. What study method do you use?” Countless people began speculating whether the child had cheated. Even when the parents came forward to clarify, Clara just smiled innocently. “Oh my, you can’t just say things like that. We’re just curious.” In the end, the child took medical leave due to depression. Not only should Clara reap what she sowed, she should also face legal consequences. I knocked on the door and explained my purpose to the pet blogger. She nodded firmly. Together we contacted the child’s parents. They agreed to go to the police station with us to file a report. After filing the report, I returned to the hospital to stay with my mom. The next day, Clara started this month’s livestream as usual. Seeing someone abnormally obese from medication, she casually said: “Your chubbiness looks so blessed. I wish I could be like you.” I watched Clara suddenly gain weight in the livestream and smiled. She continued. A girl felt insecure about persistent acne scars, and she laughed: “Your face is like the starry sky. Unlike me—I have nothing. So envious!” Someone sought help about an arranged marriage, and her eyes lit up: “I’m so envious you don’t have to worry about anything—your parents arranged everything. Unlike me—my parents make me find my own partner. If I can’t find one, I’ll just stay home and keep them company!” As she spoke, Clara noticed the livestream had gone eerily quiet. Only a couple scattered comments said: “Did the host always look like this?” She looked down to see her abnormally bloated body, covered in stretch marks, and a profound unease rose in her heart. Clara’s hands trembled as she grabbed a nearby mirror. Seeing the pockmarked face in the reflection, she let out a piercing scream!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367346”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #擦边Steamy #狼人Werewolf

The first time I discovered Milena cheating was in our marital home. Young and hot-headed, I demanded a divorce on the spot. She cried and said she was drunk and mistook him for someone else, kneeling before me and begging for forgiveness. “If you want a divorce, I’ll jump from the 10th floor right now.” That one sentence made me soften for five years. During those five years, she was gentle and considerate toward me, as if the affair had never happened. But on my mother-in-law’s sixtieth birthday, she suddenly asked Milena. “Milena, where’s my grandson? Why didn’t he come?” I froze, thinking she was confused, and hurried to answer with a smile. “Mom, you forgot—Milena still has two months until her due date.” My mother-in-law calmly glanced at me and murmured under her breath. “Oh, so you still don’t know.” My heart tightened. I instinctively looked at Milena. She calmly set down her teacup and said: “Actually, I have a son. He’s five years old.” The shrimp in my hand instantly dropped to the floor. My brain buzzed. My vision blurred. “What?” My lips trembled as I asked instinctively. “Five years ago, that night with John, I got pregnant.” Milena didn’t hide anything. When she said this, she even seemed relieved. “It’s good that you know. I’ve been exhausted hiding this for five years.” I felt helpless and looked at my mother-in-law. “Mom, stop joking around with Milena. It’s your birthday. You’re both messing with me, right?” But my mother-in-law just calmly took a sip of tea. She said nothing in response to my question. My heart sank. Milena continued, “I’m not joking. When I found out I was pregnant, the doctor said that aborting the child would be bad for my body.” “There was a high chance I’d never get pregnant again.” She placed her hand on her swollen belly. Inside was my child, already eight months along, close to the due date. “Jeff, you should be grateful I didn’t abort him.” “Otherwise, we’d never have children of our own in this lifetime.” No matter how much I wanted to disbelieve, Milena and my mother-in-law’s attitudes made it clear they weren’t lying. No wonder she went on that six-month business trip back then. Every day she video-called to check in with me, but it was actually to give birth to someone else’s child. For the next five years, she went on business trips for a week every month—actually to spend time with John and their son. And I actually believed it all. I forced a bitter smile, my eyes stinging. “Weren’t you hiding it well? Why tell me today?” Before Milena could speak, my mother-in-law slammed her forks on the table, her tone agitated. “Because I wanted to see my grandson!” She took a deep breath and spoke to me earnestly. “Jeff, I’ve been good to you, haven’t I? I know you’re a good kid, but my grandson has been hiding for five years. It breaks my heart.” My hanging fingers clenched sharply. My pupils trembled. So everyone knew about this—everyone except me. My mother-in-law took out a document from the safe. The contract listed assets totaling ten million dollars. “Jeff, we won’t shortchange you. All you need to do is accept this child. You don’t need to worry about anything else.” “Milena promised me she won’t have any more contact with John…” Before my mother-in-law could finish, Milena interrupted her. “If you can’t accept this, we can get divorced.” She pulled a divorce agreement from her bag. The signature was already filled in. I stared at the paper as if I wanted to bore a hole through it. Five years ago, I had mentioned divorce. It was Milena who begged desperately, even threatening suicide. Just when I’d finally let go of my resentment. She told me she wanted a divorce. The atmosphere grew silent, with only the sound of the clock ticking, until the door was pushed open. A crisp voice rang out. “Mom, I brought Mark to celebrate your birthday…” John walked in holding the hand of a five-year-old child. When he saw me, the smile on his face instantly froze, replaced by hesitation. “Mr. Jeff…”

The moment Milena’s mother saw Mark, her face lit up with a smile. She scooped up the little boy. “Mark’s here! Come over here.” I sat in my seat, motionless. Before, I hadn’t really looked at John’s face. Milena had protected him very well. Now they were one happy family—and the most absurd part was that Milena was still carrying my child. “Milena, is this the explanation you promised me?” “Did you have fun lying to me for five years?” Everyone present turned pale. John protectively held the child, looking tense. “I can take the humiliation, but not my son. He’s also Milena’s biological child.” “He’s also Mother’s grandson. If you won’t let the child in the door, then Mark will act like he never had a mother!” His words were firm and forceful, as if I were the one oppressing him. John threw down these words and left with the child. Milena jumped to her feet, suppressing the discomfort in her belly, and chased after them. Milena’s mother glared at me fiercely and threw the agreement in my face. “Jeff, is ten million enough to buy your future?” “The child must enter our family. You’re not allowed to interfere.” Watching their retreating figures, I felt dazed. I crouched down and picked up the agreement from the floor. Besides the enormous compensation, there was only one requirement. I had to play dumb and deaf, and not interfere in matters between Milena and John. My chest tightened. I tore the document to pieces. I never imagined Milena would hide this from me for five agonizing years. It was the third month after Milena and I got married. I had just returned from a business trip. When I walked through the door, I saw the whole house in disarray. Torn clothes, underwear, and mysterious stains on the carpet. Milena and a strange man lay naked in the bed I shared with my wife. Seeing this scene, I couldn’t accept reality. Milena wrapped herself in the sheets, stumbled over, and knelt while clutching my leg, her voice trembling with pleading. “Jeff, believe me, I was drunk and mistook him for you.” “I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t.” She was incoherent, hands clasped together, explaining to me over and over. “I’ll never drink again. As long as you don’t divorce me, I’ll agree to anything.” This incident also reached her mother. That day, her mother slapped her more than ten times. Her mother bent over, head lowered, apologizing to me. “Jeff, she only made one mistake. She still loves you.” At that time, I didn’t want to hear anything. I only wanted to divorce her. When Milena saw I still hadn’t changed my mind. She climbed onto the window ledge, ready to jump. “If you divorce me, I’ll jump from here.” “Without you, I won’t live anyway!” Those words made me soften. I couldn’t watch her hurt herself in front of me. So I pulled her down from the ledge. “We won’t divorce. But there won’t be a second time.” After that incident, the knot in my heart hadn’t completely dissolved. To make it up to me, she brought everything good before me. The house, the car, company shares—everything she had. Even my friends envied me. “Jeff, what good deed did you do in your past life to marry a wife like this?” As time passed, people around us got married and divorced one after another. They started betting on how many more years Milena and I would stay together. Later, she told me that because of company business, she needed to stay abroad for a year. We video-called every day. She knew I felt insecure, so she even made time to come back and see me. She always told me not to give up my career because of her. I really wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. But I never imagined that her talk of being busy, her business trips— It was all to give birth to someone else’s child. Only I was stupid enough to believe it for five years. Tears blurred my vision. I wiped the corner of my eyes. Looking at the divorce agreement on the table with Milena’s signature already on it. I silently put it away. If that’s how it is, then I’ll grant them their wish.

Milena and her mother still brought John and his son back. Milena’s mother protected her precious grandson. “As long as I’m here, Mark is my grandson. I won’t let anyone bully him.” Her gaze kept glancing at me, full of vigilance. Hearing this, a trace of smugness flashed in Mark’s eyes. Gone was his earlier unease. He puffed out his chest. “Mr. Jeff, don’t worry, I won’t take your place.” “I just hope my son can stay by his mother’s side instead of bearing the stigma of being illegitimate.” I pulled at the corner of my mouth with a mocking smile. “That stigma isn’t unfair. No matter what, it won’t change.” Mark’s face went pale. Then he looked at Milena with a wounded expression. Milena frowned. “Jeff, where are your manners?” Her cold words made my heart tremble. My hands hanging at my sides clenched powerlessly, then loosened. My voice was hoarse. “Five years ago, I said there wouldn’t be a second time…” Milena squeezed her son’s palm and answered carelessly. “Didn’t I already give you the divorce agreement? I agreed to divorce. I’m not stopping you.” “But you seem to have forgotten I’m still carrying your child.” Her hand rested on her swollen belly. “Jeff, I just want to bring Mark back. He’s only a five-year-old child. He can’t live without his mother.” “Can you not be so petty? Besides, wouldn’t it be good for our child to have an older brother?” She didn’t seem to think she’d done anything wrong. Her nonchalant words shattered the last hope in my heart. Before I could say anything else, she told me. “Mom and I have discussed it. We’re planning to hold a banquet next week.” “To have Mark acknowledge you as his father. That way, people won’t gossip anymore.” I suppressed the sadness in my heart. I never expected she’d already thought of this. “I won’t agree.” Milena laughed coldly. “Fine. Then I’ll go to the hospital right now for an induced abortion.” I looked up sharply and roared. “Are you insane?! The baby’s not even eight months yet!” Milena’s expression was calm, but her words were brutally cruel. “I’m the child’s mother. I have that right. Once born, it’s a child. Before birth, it’s just a lump of flesh.” “Think carefully—either let Mark acknowledge you as his father, or I go to the hospital for an induced abortion.” After dropping these words, Milena left with John and his son. For a long stretch of time, we had no contact. She didn’t come home either. Perhaps because everything was out in the open now, Milena’s rarely-updated social media started posting frequently. Mostly photos of her with John and his son. Even the captions were suggestive, as if they were the real family of three. After friends saw her posts, they called one after another to ask. “Jeff, who is that person? That child looks so much like her, could it be…” “And who’s that man?” Faced with my friends’ questions, I had no mood to answer. Only those who knew about the incident five years ago advised me. “Are you and Milena having relationship problems? I told you five years ago you shouldn’t have forgiven her.” “If there’s a first time, there will be countless more.” I smiled bitterly. What everyone else could see clearly. Only I was this stupid.

A week passed quickly. The banquet to bring Mark home was held on a grand scale. Almost everyone who mattered in our circle came. Milena held my arm, lowering her voice to warn me. “You should have thought it through these past few days. Don’t cause any trouble.” I said nothing and didn’t look at her. Not until the five-year-old boy came forward, grabbed my hand, and called me “Dad” in front of everyone. Only then did I speak. “I’m not your father. And I won’t acknowledge you as my son.” My words instantly caused an uproar. People looked at each other, suddenly understanding something. The looks they gave Milena were full of mockery. Milena lost face. Her expression shifted between pale and flushed. She gripped my wrist. “What do you mean?” “If you don’t acknowledge Mark today, I’ll go to the hospital right now!” Her attitude was resolute. I couldn’t imagine that as a mother, she could say such things. She knew how hard it had been to conceive this child. Drinking bitter medicine, getting shots to prevent miscarriage. Now, for the sake of an illegitimate child, she’d throw it all away just like that. “I won’t raise another man’s son.” John in the distance instantly looked aggrieved. At that moment, the previously silent hall’s screen suddenly lit up. The large screen began displaying intimate photos of Milena and John in bed. The photos were timestamped from five years ago. The scene instantly became chaotic. Milena also froze in place, staring blankly at the screen. John immediately pointed at my nose, his face flushed red. “Jeff! I know you have a problem with me, but how can you show these kinds of photos at an event like this!” “Yes, five years ago was all my fault. Milena was drunk and mistook me for you.” “But what does that have to do with now? No matter how dissatisfied you are, you can’t deny that Mark is Milena’s biological son.” John’s words made everything clear to everyone. “So it’s an illegitimate child. I wondered why it felt so strange.” “Well, they put on quite a show for us.” Suppressed laughter spread. Milena frantically had someone turn off the screen and slapped me hard across the face. The metallic taste of blood spread in my mouth. I felt dazed. I looked up into Milena’s hate-filled gaze. She was so angry her chest heaved violently. She clutched her aching belly, her face twisted in pain. Seeing this, Milena’s mother immediately called emergency services. When they arrived at the hospital, Milena’s face was deathly pale. Just as the doctor was about to administer the injection to prevent miscarriage, Milena suddenly spoke. “Help me induce labor. I don’t want this child anymore.” My head buzzed. “I didn’t upload those photos!” Milena pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Whether it was you or not, Jeff, I just want to teach you a lesson so you’ll never dare bully them again.” Thinking of the child, I still lowered my head and pleaded. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that. The child is innocent. It’s a life…” But no matter how I begged, it was useless. Milena still went into the operating room. The induced baby came out as a stillborn. It was a daughter who never got to open her eyes to see the world. I covered my face, crying and laughing, and placed the divorce agreement in her bag. Carrying my dead daughter, I left. Looking back five years ago led me into the abyss. This time, I won’t look back again.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367336”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic

My pilot husband had to work overtime on Valentine’s Day, so I secretly boarded his flight with our daughter, wanting to surprise him. In business class, my daughter hugged her doll and asked happily, “Mom, can I go see Dad fly the plane?” Before I could answer, the woman sitting next to me laughed: “Her dad’s a pilot?” I nodded. The woman continued: “What a coincidence! My husband’s a pilot too, and he’s the airline’s ace captain!” Looking at her proud expression, I smiled: “Really?” Soon, my husband’s steady voice came through the PA system: “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m the captain of this flight…” My heart warmed, but the woman next to me suddenly leaned closer: “That’s my husband, the captain. Doesn’t he have a nice voice?” I froze completely. The woman waved the luxury watch on her wrist: “He said he couldn’t be with me on Valentine’s Day. He coaxed me for hours last night and gave me this watch, specially asking me to fly with him today.” I stared at that watch and immediately recognized it as the promotion gift I’d just given my husband two days ago…

Ruby sat beside me, fiddling with the drawing she’d prepared for her dad—a wobbly but colorful picture of our family of three. Ruby insisted on surprising her dad, which is why I booked this flight. “That watch must be expensive, right?” I asked, controlling my emotions. “Not really.” Rose waved her hand dismissively, the corners of her mouth curved just right—not too showy, but unable to hide her smugness. “My husband makes hundreds of thousands a month. Buying this is nothing to him.” Hundreds of thousands a month? I knew Jett’s salary very well. An ace captain’s pay wasn’t low, but it definitely didn’t reach hundreds of thousands monthly. Not to mention he only became captain thanks to my connections. Three years ago during the captain promotion assessment, his performance was mediocre. It was my father—a director at Jett’s airline—who intervened to secure his qualification. And for these three years, despite having the captain title, he’d actually only served as first officer. All of this, Rose’s “ace captain” had clearly never mentioned. “Your husband treats you so well.” I said, though my eyes couldn’t move from that watch. The back of the case should have an inscription: “To Jett, may every flight be safe—your eternal love.” It was a limited edition I’d searched three cities to find three years ago. Rose was immersed in her own happiness, completely oblivious to my increasingly rigid expression. “It’s what he owes me. Who told him he couldn’t spend Valentine’s Day with me? He spent half the night last night trying to make it up to me.” Last night, Jett called, his voice full of exhaustion: “Rachel, I have extra simulator training tonight. It’s too late, so I’ll just crash at the company dorm and not come home.” “Won’t you be tired flying on Valentine’s Day tomorrow?” I’d felt sorry for him then. “For you and Ruby, any amount of exhaustion is worth it.” He said it so sincerely, I didn’t doubt him at all. Turns out his so-called “extra training” was in another woman’s bed. “That’s not all he’s given me. He gives me gifts every month.” Seeing how attentively I was listening, Rose couldn’t control her need to show off anymore. She leaned over and picked up an orange Hermès Birkin bag from beside her seat, its color painfully bright under the cabin lights. “This one, birthday gift from last year.” She stroked the bag like stroking a lover’s face. My breathing stopped. That bag, limited to fifty pieces worldwide, had disappeared from my closet six months ago. Jett had said he accidentally damaged it while grabbing something, then just threw it away. Then he “had a friend” buy me a new one. I’d been touched by his sincerity at the time. “Mom,” Ruby suddenly tugged my sleeve, her childish voice clear, “that lady’s necklace is the same as yours!” My gaze mechanically moved to Rose’s neck. A rose gold chain with a delicate airplane pendant, the wings set with tiny diamonds. It was a custom fifth wedding anniversary gift I’d commissioned from a designer, with our initials engraved inside. “It really is.” I heard my own dry voice. Rose’s smile finally froze for a moment, but quickly recovered: “How could it be? My husband had this custom-made just for me. He said it has great meaning—like him flying me around the world.” Jett had said the same thing to me at our fifth anniversary dinner. He said once Ruby was older, he’d take us around the world. That night he put this necklace on me, saying it was one of a kind, just like our love. The day the necklace went missing, Jett turned the whole house upside down. Finally he held me and said, “Out with the old, in with the new. I’ll get you an even better one.” A month later, a more ornate necklace with bigger diamonds appeared in my jewelry box, supposedly custom-made by a friend. Paid for with my money, of course. Taking my things to give to his mistress, then using my money to buy replacements for me. My stomach churned. “Are you feeling unwell?” Rose finally noticed my condition. “A bit airsick.” I forced a smile and accepted water from a flight attendant. The warm water slid down my throat as I forced my voice steady: “How long have you and your husband been married?”

Rose froze, then a flash of awkwardness crossed her face. “We’re not married yet.” Perhaps catching the shock that flickered across my face, she quickly added: “Don’t rush to look down on me, but he and his wife have no feelings for each other!” My fingers gripping the water cup suddenly tightened, knuckles turning white. “He said his family pressured him back then, and that woman saw his status and forced herself on his family.” Rose pursed her lips, her eyes showing contempt. “He said that woman is incredibly boring. Every day with her is torture, painful as hell. If he hadn’t met me, he wouldn’t know how to endure it.” As she spoke, her face showed deep sympathy for Jett, as if he were the biggest victim in this twisted relationship. Listening to her words, a storm raged inside me. Forced herself on him? Jett, you dare say I forced myself on you?! I still remember the first time I brought him home—he wore a faded white shirt and stood awkwardly in my family’s living room. His family was poor, his parents ordinary workers. He worked desperately hard to get into aviation college. After graduation, he spent years grinding away at airport ground services before finally mixing his way into a low-level flight engineer assistant position. If he hadn’t used his halfway decent face to persistently chase me, could he have the success he has today? Seeing his wasted talent, I begged my father to use his connections to pave the way for him, all the way to the captain’s position. Feeling sorry for his humble background, I never let him want for anything materially, giving him a life he’d never dared dream of before. When his father fell seriously ill, I used every medical resource available, hired the best specialists, and paid all the medical bills. My parents were dead set against me marrying him, saying our family backgrounds were too different, incompatible. I was the one blinded by so-called “love,” threatening to die if I couldn’t marry him, until my parents reluctantly agreed. After that, they constantly helped his career for my happiness. And I’d always thought he was hardworking and ambitious, felt sorry for how hard he worked. Turns out in his mouth, all my efforts became forcing myself on him and pressuring him. A huge sense of absurdity and nausea welled up inside me. I really was lovesick back then, completely blind! Rose hadn’t noticed my churning emotions at all and continued her defense: “It’s true—the one who isn’t loved is the real mistress. So what if his wife has the title? She doesn’t understand him at all, doesn’t deserve him. Jett said once he finds the right opportunity, he’ll confront her about divorce.” My heart felt like an invisible hand was squeezing it tight, the pain almost suffocating. I took a deep breath, using all my strength to maintain surface calm: “How long have you been together?” Rose’s face immediately bloomed with a sweet smile: “Next month on the fifth, it’ll be exactly four years!” Next month, the fifth… My brain buzzed, going completely blank. Four years ago on that day was when I gave birth to Ruby! That day my labor started early. I was rushed to the hospital and endured seven or eight hours of agony before giving birth to our daughter. Throughout the entire process, Jett wasn’t by my side. When I emerged from the delivery room, exhausted, I only saw my anxious parents. He didn’t show up until much later, running in drenched in sweat. Said he went to buy the pastries I’d been craving, but the line was too long and he got delayed. Though I felt hurt, seeing his guilty, distressed face as he held me, my heart softened immediately. I even comforted him instead. I even stopped my parents from scolding him. Turns out while I struggled at death’s door, he was sweetly confirming his relationship with another woman. Makes sense—what pastries take that long to buy? Looking at Rose’s smug face, my voice turned ice cold: “Does his wife know you exist?” Rose raised her eyebrows proudly, her tone contemptuous: “That stupid woman? How could she know? Jett keeps her completely in the dark. She probably still thinks her marriage is happy.” She sneered, as if telling a huge joke. “Though it’d be better if she knew. If she has any sense, she’ll get lost on her own, save Jett the trouble.” “Stupid woman.” “Get lost on her own.” These words were like poisoned daggers, stabbing viciously into my heart. I couldn’t take it anymore. I suddenly stood up and threw the remaining warm water in my hand right in her face.

“Ah—! Are you crazy?!” Rose’s scream shattered the cabin’s quiet. She sprang from her seat, her carefully applied makeup running down her face, eyeliner smeared everywhere, looking both disheveled and vicious. Ruby was frightened by this sudden turn of events and burst into tears with a loud “wah,” hugging my leg tightly. I immediately pulled my daughter behind me, coldly watching this hysterical woman. “You crazy bitch! What are you doing!” Rose wiped her face with her sleeve while cursing, completely losing her previous elegant demeanor. Flight attendants quickly arrived: “Ma’am, what happened? Please stay calm.” “Calm? Didn’t you see this crazy woman throw water at me?” Rose pointed at my nose, shaking with rage. One attendant tried to calm Rose while another turned to me: “Ma’am, can you explain the situation?” Before I could speak, Rose broke free from the attendant’s restraint and lunged at me with claws out: “Looks like you’re just like that old hag—your husband doesn’t love you either! I hit a nerve!” “Slap!” Without hesitation, I raised my hand and delivered a resounding slap across her face. The cabin fell instantly silent, even Ruby’s crying paused for a moment. Rose clutched her face, staring in disbelief, then erupted in even more hysterical screaming: “You dare hit me? Do you know who my husband is? He’s the captain of this plane! He’s the son of the airline’s chairman—you’re finished!” She turned to the attendants, ordering: “Go get the captain right now. Let him see how his wife is being bullied!” The attendant looked troubled: “Ma’am, the captain can’t leave the cockpit during flight. It’s regulation.” “Stop the nonsense. If you don’t go, I’ll file a complaint. Right now!” Rose was practically roaring. The attendant hesitated, then walked toward the cockpit. Several minutes later, she returned with a complicated expression. “Captain Jett says… he’s handling flight operations and can’t leave the cockpit. He asked me to relay that he hopes all passengers remain calm, and everything will be resolved after landing.” Rose was clearly unsatisfied with this response. Just as she was about to erupt, the cabin PA suddenly crackled: “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption. We’ve received reports that a passenger in business class has seriously disrupted order and attacked others, causing harm to my wife. My wife specially boarded this flight today to accompany me, yet encountered such unpleasantness. I cannot ignore the wrong she’s suffered. Security personnel, please immediately restrain the troublemaker to ensure the safety of other passengers and my wife. Please trust that we will handle this properly and ensure flight safety.” After the announcement ended, every eye in the cabin focused on me. Those gazes were full of contempt, condemnation, and the excitement of watching drama unfold. “So she started the trouble…” “Looks so respectable, how could she act like this…” “The poor captain’s wife, encountering this on her own husband’s flight…” Whispers came from all directions. Ruby cowered in my arms, asking softly, “Mom, why did Dad say that?” A chill rose in my heart. Two security officers soon arrived at our seats: “Ma’am, please cooperate with us to understand the situation.” Rose immediately jumped in: “This woman hit me for no reason! My husband just said she’s emotionally unstable. Arrest her quickly!” An older flight attendant quietly advised me: “Ma’am, I think you should apologize to this lady. Her husband isn’t just the captain—he’s also the chairman’s son and very powerful in the company. Making this bigger won’t be good for you.” I could hardly believe my ears: “The chairman’s son? How come I don’t know the chairman has a son?”

I certainly didn’t know my dad had any children besides me. Rose sneered: “What would you know? My husband is Chairman Alex’s illegitimate son, only recently acknowledged. A commoner like you naturally wouldn’t know.” She turned to the security officers, imperious: “You! Arrest this woman immediately and hand her over to police after landing!” The security officer looked at me helplessly: “Ma’am, if you won’t apologize, we may really need to ask you to move to the isolation seats in the back.” “I’ve done nothing wrong. Why should I apologize?” I said coldly. “If anything, this lady should apologize for publicly insulting others.” The attendant, seeing I wouldn’t yield, had to contact the cockpit again. This time the reply came quickly: “Captain’s orders—to ensure flight safety, security personnel should immediately remove the disruptive passenger from business class. Use force if necessary.” The security officer sighed and made a “please” gesture: “Ma’am, please cooperate.” The surrounding passengers’ gazes grew even more piercing. Rose lifted her chin triumphantly, her expression seeming to say: See? This is what you get for crossing me. I looked around at those uninformed passengers, at the troubled crew members, at my daughter trembling in my arms. An unprecedented rage burned in my chest. Jett, you not only betrayed our marriage, but now you’re using your authority to openly favor your mistress, even twisting facts to slander me? Fine. Very fine. I gently wiped the tears from Ruby’s face, softly comforting her: “Don’t be afraid. Mommy will protect you.” Then I raised my head, looking straight into the security officer’s eyes, my voice clear and firm: “Let’s go.” Holding my daughter’s hand, I followed the security officer toward the isolation seats at the back of the cabin. Ruby looked up, her big eyes brimming with tears, sobbing softly: “Mom, does Dad not love us anymore? Why is he helping that lady?” My heart clenched painfully. I crouched down to meet her eyes, gently wiping her tears with my thumb: “Baby, Daddy made a mistake. Mommy will handle it. Remember, no matter what happens, Mommy will always love you.” Ruby pressed close to me, her small hand never letting go of my clothes. Looking at the city growing larger outside the window, my resolve grew stronger. Jett, you must pay for your betrayal and shamelessness. The plane finally landed and taxied. When the cabin door opened, two ground police officers were already waiting at the jet bridge. Under everyone’s gaze, Ruby and I were escorted off the plane, accompanied by the officers to the airport police duty room. Ruby was frightened but bravely didn’t cry aloud, just tightly holding my hand. The duty room lights were cold and white. We’d barely sat down when a familiar voice came from outside. Rose was acting coquettish: “Jett, you have to help me. That crazy woman was horrible. My face still hurts!” “Alright, alright, don’t be angry. Now that we’re here, I’ll definitely get you justice. She’s just a troublemaking passenger—very simple to handle.” The door was pushed open. Jett walked in first, wearing his crisp captain’s uniform: “Officer, where’s the troublemaker?” I spoke coldly: “Right here! Captain Jett.” I slowly stood up, calmly meeting Jett’s gradually widening pupils.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367337”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic

When David got a phone call during my prenatal checkup, his face turned pale instantly. He looked at me with pain in his eyes. “Brenna, Marta is leaving the country. She’s never coming back. I have to go say goodbye to her.” I gently stroked my belly, watching him quietly. “Do you really have to go?” David’s voice trembled as he avoided my gaze. “Brenna, I’ll be a good husband from now on. The three of us—our family—we’ll be happy together.” With that, he left without looking back. He didn’t see me collapse to the floor behind him. In the operating room, the doctor shook his head and said with regret: “I’m afraid we can’t save the baby.” I closed my eyes and nodded. The baby was gone. And I was done with David too. Marta’s name had become forbidden territory between David and me. It had been a long time since anyone mentioned it. Hearing it again today felt almost surreal, like a lifetime had passed. David’s expression was conflicted and pained. Just like when he knelt before me, begging for forgiveness. He had sworn to heaven, promising me he would cut all ties with Marta. “Do you really have to go?” My voice didn’t even sound like my own—surprisingly calm. But David had already left without looking back. His figure was resolute and decisive. I laughed. A sudden pain shot through my abdomen, and blood pooled on the floor. This child couldn’t be saved after all. After the surgery, I returned home with a deathly pale face. The house was pitch dark. David hadn’t come back. No phone call. No message. I curled my lips in mockery. Where David was, it went without saying. Just as I was about to go to the bedroom, the front door suddenly opened. David was back. He looked at me with some surprise, his eyes flickering. “Brenna, why are you in the living room? Why haven’t you gone to bed yet? How did the checkup go today?” He stepped forward, trying to put his arm around me. But I smelled a perfume that belonged to neither of us. When my eyes swept over his neck, I also noticed a red mark. I should have been furious, but instead I felt a sense of finality and relief. No interrogation. No hysterics. I stepped back in disgust. “David, let’s get a divorce.” David froze in place, then his tone became irritated. “Brenna! What the hell are you trying to do? I told you, this was the last time! Why can’t you just be understanding?” I looked at David, now completely losing his composure, my eyes somewhat dazed. He rarely lost his temper with me. In everyone’s eyes, David loved me deeply, and I believed it too. He would spend fortunes to buy me top-tier jewelry at auctions. He would set off fireworks that lit up the entire city for my birthday, just to make me happy. There were countless instances like these. Until one person appeared—his new assistant, Marta. Just because I told Marta to get out of David’s passenger seat, her eyes reddened with grievance. And David snapped at me. That’s when I knew David had crossed the line with Marta. I cried and threw fits, even threatening to expose Marta and make sure she couldn’t survive in New York. David—such a proud man—knelt before me. He said he would cut her off completely. He said he had just lost his way temporarily. He said he would fire Marta and never see her again. At that time, touching the baby in my belly, I decided to give David one more chance. But now, I knew I was done with this man. David was still making excuses. “Brenna, I told you, this is the last time. She’s already gone. Can you please stop making a scene? Didn’t we agree not to bring up divorce again?” Looking at David, I felt like the man before me had become completely unrecognizable. He had turned into a liar whose mouth was full of nothing but lies. My abdomen started hurting again. I was too tired to argue with David anymore and turned back to the bedroom. A deafening slam of the door echoed from the entrance.

That night, I slept restlessly. My dreams were filled with fragments of the past. David and I had an arranged marriage, but we surprisingly got along well. I had hesitated about this relationship at first. My parents respected my opinion and also advised me to think carefully. It was David who knelt before me and swore to heaven. “Brenna, I will never betray you in this lifetime!” “I’m different from them! I will definitely treat you well!” “You’ll be the only one by my side!” The vows in my ears seemed like yesterday, but they had long since become a joke. When Marta’s eyes turned red with her timid expression. I saw the tenderness in David’s eyes. The special treatment that once belonged only to me, he gave to another woman. I questioned David through my tears, even slapping him several times. But all I got in return was his response. “Brenna, everyone is like this!” “Besides, I haven’t even cheated!” I broke down. I stopped eating and drinking, even developed self-harming tendencies. That midnight, when David woke up, he saw me standing by the window with one foot almost stepping out. David cried right then and there. He held me tight, dragged me to the sofa. Then he knelt on the ground, slapping himself over and over. “Brenna, I’ll never say such awful things again.” “I’ll make Marta leave. I’ll never let her appear in front of you again for the rest of my life.” Seeing David like that, my heart softened. Later, things between us seemed to return to how they were before. But something was wrong with my heart. It grew more and more numb, colder and colder, until it became completely desolate. Maybe I should have divorced him then, but I became pregnant. With the child that David and I had hoped for three years. When I woke up, it was already bright outside. I came to the living room and saw the table already filled with my favorite desserts. David was looking at me with an ingratiating expression. “Brenna, you must be starving, right?” “These are your favorites.” “Eat something quickly.” David’s demeanor was natural, as if yesterday’s events had never happened. He even pulled out a chair for me and got the utensils ready. I sat down silently and started eating. My body desperately needed nutrition right now, and I was too tired to argue. Seeing me finish eating, David also relaxed. He thought yesterday’s incident was already behind us. “Brenna, I have to go on a business trip for a while. Take good care of yourself at home.” I nodded calmly. “When you come back, we’ll go through the divorce procedures.” David’s face changed instantly. The cup beside him was smashed violently on the floor. His tone was filled with obvious humiliation and anger. “Brenna, I’ve already compromised. What more do you want? Why have you become so aggressive?” “Brenna, let me tell you, I will never divorce you!” Looking at David’s ferocious expression, my heart was surprisingly calm. The old Brenna would probably have already been crying with grievance. Back then, she loved David. Couldn’t bear to let him go. Even though his heart had already strayed from Brenna, she would rather torment herself to death than give him another chance. But now, I didn’t want him anymore. “David, I’m leaving. I’m making room for your Marta. Why are you angry? I’m doing you a favor.” David became even more furious. “Brenna! Don’t be so unreasonable! I told you yesterday was the last time. I did what you asked—fired her, and won’t see her again. What more do you want from me?” “Besides, I never even cheated in the first place! What do you want? I love you, only you, just you!” I laughed. At David’s shamelessness. “David. Do you really think I’m an idiot? You came back so late yesterday, with that hickey on your neck, that perfume on your clothes. And now this sudden business trip.” “David, honestly, you’re pretty shameless.” The room fell silent instantly. David’s chest heaved, his face alternating between green and white. I ignored him and walked straight out the door. David probably forgot that when he knelt down and begged repeatedly to marry me, he had signed a divorce agreement. If he ever betrayed me, I could leave him at any time. Now, this divorce agreement was his retribution!

After leaving the house I shared with David, I returned to my parents’ place. My parents were delighted to see me come back. “Brenna, what brings you here today?” They came up to me, their faces full of concern. “Didn’t you have a checkup yesterday? How’s the baby?” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears streamed down my face instantly. “Mom, Dad, the baby is gone. I want a divorce.” My parents didn’t know about David and Marta. Back then, I was filled with unwillingness, pain, and inner conflict. But I couldn’t bring myself to be ruthless. I suffered and struggled alone, without telling my parents. After hearing my words, my parents fell silent instantly. My mother’s eyes turned red as she pulled me into her arms. “What happened? Are you in pain?” I cried even harder. I told my parents everything about David and Marta. Our family’s company still had business partnerships with David’s company. If we divorced, we would definitely have to sever those ties. My father slammed his hand on the table. “Divorce! Brenna, your mother and I are getting old. We don’t have grand ambitions anymore.” “If we don’t cooperate, then we don’t! We have enough money to support the three of us. You don’t need to compromise on anything!” Hearing my father’s words, I cried even harder. So I stayed at my parents’ house. David kept calling, but I never answered. I just wanted to quietly recover my health before dealing with the divorce proceedings. But one day, my father suddenly came home looking furious. “That David is a complete bastard!” From my father, I learned that David had actually started pressuring our family’s company! I couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed out to settle accounts with David. How dare he! When I returned to the house I shared with David, there was someone else there—Marta, who was supposed to have left the country! Seeing me come back, David’s face immediately darkened. Marta flinched and hid behind David. David’s expression became even uglier. “Brenna, you still have the nerve to come back?” I looked at him coldly. “David, why wouldn’t I have the nerve to come back? You’re bringing your mistress into our home, and you have the nerve to talk to me like that? Even if we divorce, you didn’t need to target my dad’s company!” David’s eyes darkened. “Brenna, this is a warning and punishment for you! Why did you go after Marta? She was already leaving.” Looking at David, I found it absurd. “I went after her? David, I wouldn’t dirty my hands!” But David demanded sharply. “If not you, then who? You actually had someone kidnap her and tried to humiliate her! Do you know, if I hadn’t arrived in time, Marta would have been ruined!” His eyes were cold, his lips mocking. “You did say before that you would destroy Marta.” Yes, back when I loved David deeply and was full of madness, I swore to fight Marta to the death. But not anymore. I looked at Marta. She was sobbing softly behind David, but her eyes looking at me were full of provocation. I understood. Marta never planned to leave the country, never intended to leave. She was just playing the long game. The kidnapping and humiliation were all a show she directed herself. Only David believed it. Marta carefully tugged at David’s sleeve. “David, don’t fight with Brenna anymore.” “I’m fine. It’s all my fault. I got too close to you, that’s why Brenna got angry.” “Don’t worry, I will definitely leave.” But David loudly stopped Marta. “Marta, don’t be afraid!” “I won’t let you leave anymore! You’re all alone going abroad to an unfamiliar place—who knows what else might happen.” After comforting Marta, David turned to look at me. “Brenna, I’ll arrange for Marta to work at a branch office.” “She won’t appear in front of us.” “This is compensation for you hurting her this time.” “Put away your scheming. I told you, you’ll always be my wife.” At this point, he softened his voice. “I won’t hold it against you this time. I know you care about me—love makes people irrational.” “Your family and mine will continue our cooperation. I’ll hold a press conference to stabilize the situation.” “We’re about to become parents. Let’s be good, stop making trouble, okay?” I found it ridiculous. He didn’t know the baby was already gone. When he chose Marta once again. I didn’t want to argue with David anymore. Since he had no shame, I didn’t need to save face for him either. I looked at David deeply and smiled, nodding. This time, I was going to give David a big gift.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367338”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

While recovering after giving birth, I came across a post online. “My mistress is due soon and wants to give birth abroad. My mom loves her and wants to go with her. But my wife just had a baby. How do I get my wife to let us go?” The comments were furious, but the poster had liked one reply. “Easy. Just tell her your mom’s sick and needs treatment abroad.” I was still wondering who the unlucky wife was when my husband walked in with a fake medical report. “Honey, my mom has a heart problem. She needs urgent surgery overseas. I’ll have to go with her.” Looking at the report in my husband Lucas’s hand, my heart trembled as that post involuntarily came to mind. It had to be a coincidence, right? Lucas was famous for loving his wife devotedly! During my pregnancy, he made me different meals every day. When my body ached during pregnancy, no matter how tired he was after work, he would massage me until I fell asleep. The day I went into labor, he paced anxiously outside the delivery room. After the baby was born, everyone gathered around the child smiling, but he alone gripped my hand tightly, crying his eyes out. “I’m sorry you had to suffer.” After the baby was born, he turned down all his work and stayed home with my mother-in-law Rachel to take care of me and the child. During the day, Rachel did the housework. He fed the baby, changed diapers, and gave baths. He even moved to the guest room with the baby so I could sleep well at night. How could a husband who pampered me like this possibly do such a thing? I hesitated, then instinctively asked. “Wasn’t she in good health?” “Why does she suddenly need urgent surgery?” Lucas shook his head, his face full of anxiety. “I don’t know either. Mom’s been saying her chest felt uncomfortable these past few days, so I took her to the hospital for a checkup. The doctor said her condition is serious and she needs surgery right away.” “After that, she’ll need two months of recovery.” Two months. Just enough time to care for a woman through childbirth and recovery. My heart sank, but I still probed tentatively. “I know the best internal medicine doctor abroad. Should I contact them for you?” Lucas waved his hands hurriedly. “No, no need.” Seeming to realize his overreaction, he immediately recovered, gripping my hand tightly with a guilty expression. “Winnie, you just gave birth. I already feel terrible that Mom and I can’t stay here to take care of you.” “How could I let you worry about these things?” As he said this, Lucas’s eyes were red. As if he felt incredibly sorry for me. But my gaze was fixed on his hand. On his right hand, between thumb and index finger, there was a scar. Identical to the profile picture of the person who had posted. If I remembered correctly, this scar was from three months ago. I had just finished a prenatal checkup, and Lucas was taking me out of the hospital. A large unleashed German Shepherd suddenly charged at me, teeth bared. Without thinking, Lucas blocked me and fought the dog with his bare hands. In the end, the dog bit off a piece of flesh from his hand. Blood flowed freely. Lucas had seventeen stitches. I was heartbroken and kept wiping away tears, but Lucas smiled and comforted me. “Don’t cry. As long as you and the baby are safe, this scar is worth it. Even if my whole hand was ruined.” The scar that once symbolized his love now stabbed painfully at my heart. I reached out and touched the scar between Lucas’s thumb and finger. “Does your scar still hurt?” Lucas froze, then curled his hand. “It stopped hurting long ago. Why do you suddenly ask?” I lowered my eyes and said softly. “I just suddenly remembered the past.” “You were so good to me and the baby back then.” Lucas smiled indulgently and gripped my hand tightly. “Silly, am I not good to you now?” “From the moment you got pregnant, I swore I’d protect you and the baby with my life.” As he spoke, his eyes reddened, and he said with utmost sincerity. “Winnie, I know I shouldn’t leave you at a time like this.” “But she’s my mother. She raised me alone. I can’t bear to let her go abroad for surgery by herself.” “You understand, don’t you?” Looking at his expectant, anxious eyes, I nodded. “Of course.” “Her condition is so serious. How could I stop you from being a filial son?”

Lucas breathed a sigh of relief. “Marrying such an understanding wife is the greatest fortune of my life.” He looked at me with tender affection, his gaze as deep and loving as always. But I would no longer be moved by it as I once was. At this moment, I couldn’t help but feel curious. Of all the love I had once been so proud of, how much was real and how much was fake? When did he and that woman start? As I pondered this, Rachel came in. She had obviously heard our conversation. As soon as she entered, she spoke with red eyes. “Winnie, I’m sorry. I’m old and useless. Instead of helping you, I’m causing you trouble when you need care the most.” Her voice choked, her eyes brimming with tears. Looking at her, I felt a mix of emotions. In all our years of marriage, Rachel and I had always gotten along well. Every year on her birthday, I remembered better than Lucas, starting to prepare her gift a month in advance. When she mentioned her hometown house was too old, I emptied my savings without a word to hire a construction team to renovate it into an elegant villa. Last year when she accidentally broke her leg and was hospitalized, I went to the hospital every day to keep her company, helping her bathe, feeding her, and dealing with her bodily waste. At that time, she held my hand, moved to tears. “Winnie, you’re the best daughter-in-law in the world.” “If my son ever does anything to wrong you, I’ll be the first to deal with him.” I believed her. I thought sincerity could be met with sincerity. But I never expected that Rachel, who had promised to stand up for me, would actually go with her son to serve another woman through her postpartum recovery after I had just given birth. How ridiculous. I looked at her and forced a smile, saying softly. “Don’t say that. Your health comes first. I’ll be fine here.” Hearing this, Rachel nodded with relief. “Good, good child.” “Don’t worry. Once I recover, I’ll come back and take good care of you and the baby. I won’t let you suffer any grievance.” I laughed lightly and said nothing. Lucas booked tickets for tomorrow. Early the next morning, he and Rachel came to my room with their luggage. They kept reminding me to stay warm and not to touch cold water. Perhaps because they weren’t at ease, or perhaps to play their parts thoroughly. They even took notes of many precautions and left them on my bedside table. Their endless instructions seemed reluctant to leave. When Rachel left the room, she even wiped her eyes. “Winnie, I really can’t bear to leave you or the baby, but this illness won’t wait. I have no choice.” Lucas put his arm around my shoulder, eyes red. “I’ve already hired a postpartum nanny for you. As soon as Mom recovers, I’ll come back. I promise I won’t stay a day longer.” I nodded and watched them leave. After they had gone far, I suddenly remembered something.

Thinking of that thing, I immediately called my parents and asked them to come over. Sensing my urgency, my parents came to my house as quickly as possible. “What’s wrong, Winnie? Why did you call us over so urgently?” I didn’t hide anything. I told them everything about Lucas and Rachel deceiving me to go serve the mistress. After hearing this, my dad was completely in disbelief. “Winnie, could this be a misunderstanding? Everyone can see how good Lucas is to you.” “And Rachel has really treated you like her own daughter all these years.” “How could the two of them conspire to deceive you?” “Could it just be a coincidence? What if Rachel really is sick?” My mom immediately rejected this. “Impossible!” “I saw her dancing in the square downstairs just the other day. She danced for two whole hours without even getting winded. Her body is tougher than an ox. How could she have heart disease?” “That Lucas! When he married you, he kowtowed until his head bled, saying he’d treat you well. Now he dares to team up with his mother to deceive you like this?” My mom was very angry. But I was more confused. As my dad said. All these years, Lucas had been very good to me. He was young and accomplished, handsome, and never lacked young girls throwing themselves at him. Even his company owner’s daughter had shown him favor. She had even openly stated that as long as Lucas was willing to be with her, the whole company could take his surname. But Lucas remained completely unmoved. He even offended her for it and was nearly blacklisted by the entire industry. Despite this, he remained steadfast and said to me. “I can lose the whole world, but I can’t leave you.” As for Rachel, she treated me even better than her own son Lucas. Once, in the middle of the night, I had acute appendicitis and was in so much pain I couldn’t stand. Lucas was on a business trip at the time. It was Rachel who carried me on her back through the freezing winter wind and snow for several miles to get me to the hospital. That day, Rachel’s legs were so frozen they nearly had to be amputated. But she was afraid I’d feel guilty, so she endured the pain and never told me. Later, when Lucas came back and found both her legs had turned black, he rushed her to the hospital. Even the doctor was alarmed, saying she was gambling with her life. But Rachel said, “As long as Winnie is okay, I don’t care what happens to me.” It was precisely because I had genuinely felt their love that I couldn’t understand. What kind of woman could make Lucas, who loved me so much, and Rachel, who treated me as her own daughter, both betray me at the same time?

“Let’s go. We’re going to the airport right now to see what’s really going on.” My dad suddenly stood up, grabbed the car keys, and headed for the door. My mom followed closely, cursing as she walked. “Right. I want to see what kind of vixen can bewitch this whole family like this.” I handed the baby to the nanny and got in the car with them. Sitting in the car, my mom kept muttering. “That ungrateful Lucas. He knelt at our door for three days and nights before I agreed to let my daughter marry him. And now? His wife just gave birth, and he turns around to serve his mistress and her illegitimate child?” “And Rachel, saying she treats her daughter-in-law like her own daughter. And what happened? Her daughter-in-law is suffering this injustice and she doesn’t care, but runs off to take care of another woman?” “If I catch them really doing something to wrong my daughter, I’ll make them pay!” My mom was furious. When Lucas was pursuing me, she had disagreed. She thought Lucas’s family background was ordinary and he wasn’t good enough for me. It was Lucas kneeling at our door for three days and nights, kowtowing until his head bled, that made my mom relent. My dad drove silently without responding. I saw from the rearview mirror that his brow was tightly furrowed, thinking about something. After about twenty minutes of driving, I suddenly saw Lucas’s car parked in front of a roadside villa. “Stop, Dad, stop!” Hearing my urgent shout, my dad quickly found a place to stop, then turned to look at me. “What’s wrong, Winnie? Aren’t we going to the airport to find Lucas?” My mom was also confused. “Yeah, we need to hurry to the airport and catch them red-handed!” I pointed at Lucas’s car. “He hasn’t gone to the airport yet. He’s probably here to pick up his mistress.” With that, I got out of the car. Then headed straight for the villa. But I didn’t notice that in the car, my parents’ faces both changed dramatically as they looked at the villa. Seeing me walk toward the villa, my dad immediately got out of the car and blocked my way. “Winnie, are you sure Lucas came here to pick up that woman?” Seeing my dad’s strange expression, I felt something was wrong. “What’s wrong, Dad? Do you know this place?” My dad opened his mouth but made no sound. At this moment, my mom also caught up. She looked at the villa, swallowed nervously with a panicked expression, then said to me gravely. “Winnie, let’s go back.” “Stop investigating.” I looked at my mom in disbelief. “Why?” “Mom, you were the one who said we should investigate. You were the most eager, saying we had to catch them red-handed, weren’t you?” “Now they’re right in front of us. Why are you telling me to stop?” My mom didn’t answer me. Instead, she grabbed my arm and pleaded tearfully. “Winnie, I’m begging you. Let’s go back.” “Stop this investigation here, okay?” My dad also walked over, his face serious. “Winnie, listen to your mother. Let’s go back first.” “We’re doing this for your own good.” I was completely confused. I didn’t get why my parents, who were just so ready to defend me, flipped after they saw this villa. Was there a problem with this villa? Or was something wrong with the people inside? Just as I was puzzled, the villa’s main door opened. I turned sharply. I immediately saw Lucas and Rachel on either side, carefully supporting a heavily pregnant woman as she came out of the villa. The moment I saw that woman’s face clearly, my eyes widened as I suddenly understood everything…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367339”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

I found an empty box in Ethan’s study. It should have held a stack of wish coupons that read: “Ethan promises to unconditionally fulfill one wish for Zara.” I made them by hand during our first year of marriage. He said he’d save them up, and we’d cash them in slowly when we were old. Now, the box was empty. He used the last one a week ago. I saw it with my own eye. He handed that coupon to Blair, his voice gentle. “Blair, ask for anything you want.” And I stood outside the hospital room, having just lost our second child. My phone buzzed. A message from Ethan popped up. “Zara, I’ll have my assistant take you to handle the paperwork tomorrow. Blair’s emotionally unstable. I need to stay with her.” I touched my flat stomach and suddenly remembered seven years ago. He was at this same hospital, kneeling beside my bed with red eyes. “Zara, I swear I’ll never let you down in this lifetime.” How ridiculous. The wish coupons were gone. So was the love. When I returned home from my hospital follow-up, my abdomen still ached with the dull pain from the D&C procedure. A woman’s soft laughter floated from the living room. I steadied myself against the wall and saw Blair sitting on my sofa, wearing my silk bathrobe. Ethan had his back to me, pouring her water. “Ethan, Zara won’t be upset that I’m wearing this, will she?” Blair’s voice was soft, her fingers brushing over the collar of the robe. “She won’t.” Ethan handed her the water, his tone carrying a tenderness I hadn’t heard in ages. “Your clothes were soaked through. You couldn’t go home in wet clothes.” I stood in the shadows of the entryway, watching this scene, and suddenly the pain in my lower abdomen intensified. “Ethan.” I spoke abruptly, my voice hoarse. They both turned around. A flash of panic crossed Ethan’s eyes, but he quickly recovered. He walked over, his tone softening. “How was the follow-up? What did the doctor say? Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?” I didn’t answer his questions. I just pointed at Blair. “Why is she here? Why is she wearing my clothes?” Blair immediately stood up, her eyes reddening on cue. “Zara, I’m so sorry. The rain was so heavy today. I came to drop off some documents for Ethan and accidentally fell.” “I let her take a shower and change clothes.” Ethan interrupted her, his tone matter-of-fact. “Zara, Blair’s father just went into the ICU. You’ve always been kind. I’m sure you won’t make a big deal out of this.” Make a big deal? I clutched my stomach and suddenly laughed. Ethan’s brow furrowed. “What are you laughing at?” “I’m laughing at myself.” I looked up at him, my eyes so dry they hurt. “Ethan, we lost our child.” “Last week, I was on the operating table alone. I signed the consent form alone. I heard the doctor say alone that everything had been cleared out.” “And you were here, pouring water for another woman, letting her wear my bathrobe.” With each sentence I spoke, Ethan’s face grew paler. Blair spoke up on cue, her voice tearful. “Ethan, I didn’t know Zara had surgery. I really didn’t know.” “It’s not your fault.” Ethan patted the back of her hand, then turned to me. “Zara, I’m sorry about the child, but Blair’s father was in critical condition. A life at stake. Surely that’s more important than-” “More important than my child.” I finished the sentence for him. “I know. I understand. The bigger picture comes first.” I walked into the living room, heading straight for Blair. She instinctively stepped back, but I grabbed the belt of the bathrobe. “Take it off.” I said calmly. “This is my robe. You don’t deserve to wear it.” Blair’s eyes grew redder as she looked pleadingly at Ethan. Ethan stepped forward, instinctively gripping my wrist. “Zara!” Seeing my pale face, he quickly let go, his tone urgent. “Are you okay? I was just worried.” “It’s just a robe. If you don’t like that Blair wore it, throw it away. I’ll buy you a new one.” When I looked up, I saw Ethan standing protectively in front of Blair. “Blair, go rest in the guest room.” He said softly, turning his head. Then he turned to me, his voice softening. “Zara, about the child-we can have another one.” I didn’t speak. I just turned and walked toward the bedroom. He followed, gently wrapping his arms around me from behind, his chin resting in the curve of my shoulder. “I’m sorry.” “I should have been with you yesterday, but Blair’s dad suddenly went into emergency. She couldn’t handle it alone. To keep everything stable, I had to be there for her.” It was always like this. When Blair needed him, he had to go. And when I needed him, I was always second to the bigger picture.

That night, Blair stayed at our house. Ethan let me have the master bedroom and went to the study himself. Late at night, I woke up from abdominal pain and wanted to get hot water from the kitchen. As I passed the guest room, I heard muffled crying inside. The door was slightly ajar. I saw Ethan sitting on the edge of the bed, Blair leaning against him, her shoulders shaking. “Ethan, I’m so scared. If Dad dies, I’ll have no family left.” “Don’t be scared. I’m here.” Ethan gently patted her back. Once upon a time, when I had period cramps, he held me like that and said, “Don’t be scared. I’m here.” Now, his embrace belonged to someone else. I turned to leave but knocked over a vase in the hallway. Crash! Both of them looked over. Ethan’s face showed panic as he quickly tried to explain. “Blair suddenly said she was scared tonight, afraid her father would leave her. So I came to talk with her.” I looked at him and suddenly felt so tired. “Ethan, right now, immediately-get her out of my house!” Blair walked out of the room. She’d already changed back into her own clothes, her eyes red and swollen. “Zara, I’m sorry. I’ll leave right now.” As she spoke, her legs gave out and she fell straight toward Ethan. Ethan instinctively caught her. “I feel so dizzy.” Blair leaned against him, her voice weak. “I think I caught a fever from the rain today.” Ethan touched her forehead, his expression changing. “You’re burning up!” He scooped Blair up in his arms and looked at me pleadingly. “Zara, look-Blair has a fever. Can she stay a little longer?” “I’ll help her with the medicine and then come be with you! I promise!” “Then call an ambulance.” I didn’t budge. “Or should I call one for you?” Seeing I wouldn’t relent, Ethan could only smile apologetically. “Okay, okay. Don’t be angry, Zara. I’ll take her away right now.” With that, he had Blair go downstairs first. I said nothing. He came over to kiss my forehead, but I turned my head away. He sighed and grabbed his coat. “Don’t be upset. Wait for me to come back, and we’ll talk properly.” The door closed. I stood there, listening to the elevator descend. I suddenly remembered last month, on my birthday. He promised to have dinner with me, but he left because of one phone call from Blair. That night I waited until dawn. He came back at three in the morning, reeking of alcohol, shoving a box into my hands. “To make it up to you. Open it.” Inside was a diamond necklace. “Do you like it?” He kissed my neck. “Zara, I love you most.” Back then, I still softened. I still thought that deep down, he remembered me. How foolish. Ethan didn’t come home all night. The next morning, he returned with breakfast. “Blair was in bad shape last night. I took her to the hospital planning to come right back, but then her father’s condition suddenly worsened.” He explained while changing his shoes. He set the coffee and bread on the dining table and came over to touch my face. “Why are your eyes swollen? Didn’t you sleep well?” I avoided his hand. His movement froze, his eyes dimming. “Zara, I know you’re angry, but that was a life at stake. I couldn’t just ignore it.” “So my child’s life doesn’t count?” I heard my own voice, terrifyingly calm. Ethan’s face went pale. He opened his mouth, but in the end just took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but what’s done is done. Can we please stop torturing each other? Blair really…” “She’s really pitiful.” I finished for him. “She needs you, and I’m strong. I can handle things myself, right?” He was left speechless, guilt and frustration flashing in his eyes. Finally, he crouched down in compromise, gripping my hand. “Zara, I promise this is the last time.” “Once her father’s condition stabilizes, I’ll keep my distance from her. We’ll live well together and have another child, okay?” His palm was warm, his eyes sincere. For a brief moment, I almost believed him. But then I saw his phone screen light up with a message. “Ethan, thank you for being with me. Without you, I really couldn’t hold on.” Sender: Blair.

My wedding anniversary with Ethan was on Friday. He’d promised a week ago to take me to my favorite stargazing restaurant. I’d even secretly prepared a gift. At 6 p.m., I started doing my makeup and picking out a dress. At six-thirty, his message came. “Sorry Zara, there’s an emergency meeting. I might be an hour late. Can you go to the restaurant first and wait for me? I’ll be there as soon as possible.” I typed back. “What meeting?” He replied instantly. “Final negotiations for the acquisition. The other party suddenly changed their terms. I have to be there.” Very reasonable. I went to the restaurant alone. The server came several times asking if I wanted to order. Each time I said to wait a bit longer. Seven-thirty. Ethan didn’t come. Eight o’clock. He sent a photo of a conference room. “Still at a standstill. Sorry, babe.” Nine o’clock. The restaurant was about to close. I picked up my bag to leave, but through the window, I saw the huge LED screen across the street at the mall. It was playing financial news. In the frame, Ethan wore a sharp suit, smiling as he gave an interview. And beside him, Blair in a white dress was holding his arm. The caption scrolled. “Jameson Group heir Ethan with his female companion at charity gala-wedding bells soon?” I stood on the street, cold all over. My phone buzzed. Another message from him. “Finally done! I’m heading over now. Wait for me!” I stared at those words and suddenly laughed. When Ethan arrived, the restaurant lights were already off. He found me on the street, his face full of apology. “Zara, I’m sorry. The negotiations dragged on too long. Why are you waiting out here? Aren’t you cold?” He took off his jacket to drape it over my shoulders. I dodged. He froze. “Are you angry? It really was work.” “Ethan.” I interrupted him, looking up at him. “Did the negotiations go well?” His eyes flickered, and he forced a smile. “It was… okay. The other party was difficult.” “I see.” I nodded. “And the charity gala? Did that go well too?” His expression changed drastically. The air went dead silent. After a few seconds, he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “You saw? I didn’t mean to hide it from you. Blair insisted I accompany her.” “She said it was her father’s dying wish to see her in the spotlight once. I couldn’t refuse.” Couldn’t refuse again. “So you lied to me?” I heard my voice trembling. “Ethan, today is our wedding anniversary.” He panicked, reaching for my hand. “I know! I remembered! That’s why I rushed over!” “Zara, I was wrong. I’ll make it up to you. Let’s go eat somewhere else.” “No need.” I pulled my hand back. “I’m tired. I want to go home.” Finally, he said hoarsely. “Okay. Let’s go home.” In the car, he drove with one hand and gripped mine tightly with the other. It hurt. When we got home, he pressed me against the door, kissing me fiercely and urgently. “Don’t leave me…” His voice choked. “Zara, I can’t live without you. I thought about you all day today. Really!” I closed my eyes. I felt his tears falling on my face. But my heart-why wouldn’t it warm up anymore? After the anniversary, Ethan started trying to make it up to me. He canceled all evening engagements and came home on time every day. On the weekend, he took me to the countryside to relax. On the terrace of a bed-and-breakfast, he held me while we watched the stars. “Let’s have another child. This time I’ll stay by your side every step of the way. I won’t leave you for a second.” I leaned against him, saying nothing. For a moment, I almost believed everything could go back to how it was. Until his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, instinctively about to decline, then paused. “It’s Blair. Her father might not make it.” I closed my eyes. “Go.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll be back soon. Wait for me.” He left. I sat alone on the terrace until midnight. The inn owner came up with hot milk, hesitating to speak. “Did something happen at home? That gentleman left in such a rush.” I smiled. “Yeah. Something happened.”

Ethan didn’t come back until noon the next day. His voice was hoarse. “Blair’s father passed away at dawn. Blair fainted several times from crying. I couldn’t leave.” I poured him a glass of water. He took it and held my hand. “Zara, this is the last time. Once she finishes handling her father’s affairs, I’ll cut ties completely.” I looked at him. “Can you bear to?” He froze. “She depends on you so much. She needs you so much.” I spoke softly, mockery in my eyes. “Can you really bear to leave her when she’s at her most vulnerable?” His eyes showed struggle, and finally he looked away. “Even if I can’t bear it, I have to. You’re my wife.” I smiled and said nothing. On the day of Blair’s father’s funeral, I went too. Ethan was surprised. “After all, we knew each other.” I said flatly. At the funeral, Blair cried herself into a wreck, barely able to stand. Ethan supported her the entire time. Guests whispered. “Is that Mrs. Jameson? She looks so composed.” “How could she not be? Her husband’s practically someone else’s now.” “I heard Mr. Jameson didn’t even care when his own child was lost because of Blair.” Ethan clearly heard them too. He looked back at me, guilt and urgency in his eyes. He probably wanted me to leave so Blair wouldn’t feel more embarrassed. I didn’t move. After the funeral, Blair walked over with others supporting her and bowed to me. “Zara, I’ve caused you so much trouble during this time.” She looked up, tears streaming. “Don’t worry. Once I finish handling Dad’s affairs, I’ll leave this place and never bother you two again.” Ethan’s expression changed. “Blair, what are you talking about? Where would you even go?” Blair cried harder. “I should have left already. I’ve been too selfish, monopolizing Ethan all this time.” “Stop it!” Ethan cut her off, looking at me. “Zara, Blair has no family now. We can’t force her to leave at a time like this.” I quietly watched them. One crying her heart out, the other looking at her with pained protection. Like a pair of star-crossed lovers. And I was the cold-hearted villain. “Ethan, do you remember what vow you made when we got married?” He froze. I smiled. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter anymore.” I turned and left. He didn’t follow. That night, Ethan came home reeking of alcohol. He found me sitting on the balcony and hugged me tightly from behind. “Zara, I’m sorry.” I didn’t turn around. “You know what? Today at the funeral, I saw Blair wearing a necklace.” His body stiffened. “That necklace. I saw it last year and didn’t buy it because it was too expensive.” “You said it cost too much and you’d give it to me on our next anniversary.” The wind on the balcony was cold. Ethan’s breathing stopped. After a long while, he finally spoke with difficulty. “That was her father’s last gift to her before he died. I didn’t buy it.” “Really.” I laughed. “But the receipt is still in your study drawer, dated last Wednesday.” He let go of me, staggering back two steps. “Zara, let me explain!” “No need to explain.” I stood up and turned to face him. “The wish coupons are all used up, aren’t they?” His pupils contracted sharply. “The last one. You gave it to Blair, telling her to ask for anything she wanted.” I pushed past him and pulled out the very first coupon I’d never been willing to use. “So Ethan, this time my wish is to let me go.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367340”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

My mom has a strange diary. Over the years, whenever someone treats me well, my mom makes them read this diary. I don’t know what’s written inside. I only know that everyone who reads it, without exception, distances themselves from me and turns to fawning over my sister instead. Later, I met my fiancé. He swore to me that no matter what happened, he would always stand by my side. I believed him. Until my mom handed him that diary. Just half an hour later, he became a completely different person. Not only did he publicly break off our engagement, but he also slapped me twice across the face, then turned and knelt before my sister, groveling for her favor. I was completely stunned. I needed to know. What exactly was written in that diary? “You disgusting viper!” “You’re not even worthy of carrying your sister’s shoes! Get lost!” The person speaking was my fiancé, Adrian. Just moments ago, he had been whispering sweet nothings to me. But after one glance at that diary, his face completely changed. I clutched my swollen, burning cheek, my ears ringing. This was the fourth time. Four relationships. Four men who once had eyes only for me. All of them came to despise me to their very bones after reading that black-covered diary. I stared at Adrian, trying to find some trace of a joke on his face. There was none. His eyes held nothing but undisguised disgust and contempt. My sister, Vanessa, lounged triumphantly on the sofa, holding a glass of red wine, a mocking smile playing at her lips. “Claire, I told you. No one could ever truly love trash like you.” She swirled her wine glass and took a sip. Looking down on me from above. The very picture of victory. Adrian immediately rushed over, snatching the glass from her hand and placing it on the table, his face full of fawning eagerness. “Vanessa, don’t drink too much. It’s bad for you. What would you like to eat? I’ll make it for you right now.” My stomach churned with nausea, the sick feeling rising in my throat. Just last night, this man had knelt on one knee and slipped a sparkling diamond ring onto my finger. He had cupped my face and sworn to take me away from this suffocating household. He said that no matter what happened, he would stand by my side without hesitation. But now, he was groveling before the sister I hated most. And my mother sat in the main seat, leisurely flipping through that thick diary. The black leather cover gleamed with an eerie oily sheen under the overhead light. “Claire, accept your fate.” My mother snapped the diary shut and slammed it onto the coffee table with a loud thud. “You’re a jinx. You’ve been cursed your whole life. Anyone who gets close to you ends up in misery.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. I stared at that diary with burning intensity. It was because of that thing that I’d ended up like this. It made everyone who truly loved me abandon me. So I strode toward the coffee table, reaching out to grab it. I needed to see with my own eyes what was written inside that could make everyone change their attitude in an instant. But my mother moved faster than I did. She clutched the diary to her chest and delivered a resounding slap across my face. The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the living room. I staggered back two steps and crashed into the hard edge of the mahogany cabinet. A sharp pain shot through my waist, and I collapsed to the floor. “Don’t touch my things!” my mother snarled. Adrian saw this and immediately rushed over, kicking me hard in the shin. “You dare raise your hand to her? Do you have a death wish?” He towered over me, pointing an accusing finger as spittle flew from his mouth onto my face. I braced my hands against the floor and slowly pushed myself up. I looked at each of them in turn. My mother. My boyfriend. My sister. All people I had once treated with genuine sincerity. But now, one had hit me, one had kicked me, and one watched with cold indifference. How utterly absurd. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I pointed at them and screamed, “You bastards!” “Since you’re all treating me like this, then get the hell out of my house! You don’t deserve to be here!” Yes, this house was mine. I had worked dawn to dusk to save for the down payment. After renovating it, I had joyfully invited my parents and Vanessa to live with me, thinking I could finally have a warm family. But what I got in return was their favoritism and endless pandering to Vanessa. Over the years, they took my salary to buy her new clothes, yet wouldn’t spare me even a bite of meat. They treated Vanessa like a precious treasure and discarded me like garbage. And they used this cursed diary to turn against anyone who was willing to treat me kindly. I’d had enough. Today, I was going to cut ties with these parasites once and for all. Adrian froze for a moment, then burst into wild laughter. “Your house? Claire, stop dreaming.” He turned to look at my mother, his face shifting into a fawning expression. “Your mother already agreed to transfer the deed to Vanessa. This is Vanessa’s house now.” I whipped my head toward my mother. When the property deed first arrived, she had locked it in her safe under the pretense of safekeeping. At the time, I thought, well, she’s my own mother, so I didn’t make a fuss. But I never imagined she would secretly transfer ownership to Vanessa behind my back! “What are you staring at?” My mother snorted coldly. “The money you earn belongs to the family. Vanessa is getting married soon, and this house is perfect for her wedding home.” “I’m your mother. Don’t I even have the right to make that decision?” Vanessa covered her mouth and giggled. “Thanks for the house, Claire. Adrian and I will take good care of it.” I felt the blood in my entire body freeze. They had not only stolen my fiancé but were now seizing my property. It was revolting. But there were three of them against me. The situation wasn’t in my favor. I needed help. After thinking for a moment, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number pinned at the top of my contacts. Professor Martin. He was my college advisor and the only person in this world I truly respected and trusted. Back when I couldn’t afford tuition, he used his own salary to cover it for me. When I got sick with a high fever, he and his wife made soup and brought it to my dorm. To me, he was more like a father. He would surely be willing to help me seek justice. Calling him was the best choice. The phone rang three times before he picked up. His warm, concerned voice came through the line. “Claire? It’s so late-what happened? Why is your voice shaking?” I bit my lip hard, but I couldn’t hold back anymore. A sob broke from my throat. “Professor Martin, my mom took my house. Adrian broke off our engagement. They’re trying to throw me out of my own home.” There was a second of silence on the other end, followed by the loud bang of someone slamming a table. “This is outrageous! Has your mother lost her mind? Where are you right now? Don’t move. I’m coming to you immediately!” Half an hour later, Professor Martin’s black sedan screeched to a halt in front of our building. With a loud crash, he kicked open the half-closed door.

Everyone froze, staring at each other. Seeing an outsider barge in, the smile on my mother’s face instantly vanished, replaced by vicious anger. “Professor Martin, what the hell are you doing barging in here in the middle of the night? This is trespassing! I could call the police!” Professor Martin stormed to the coffee table and swept the champagne tower onto the floor. The crisp sound of shattering glass mixed with Vanessa’s shrieks echoed throughout the room. “Call the police? Go ahead! Claire is your own daughter-born from your own body! You’ve bled her dry, stolen her house to give to this brat, and you still have the nerve to talk about humanity?” My mother let out a cold laugh, slowly rising to her feet and brushing wine droplets off her skirt. “Professor Martin, as an educator, you should watch your language. This is our family’s private matter. What right do you, an outsider, have to interfere?” “Bullshit! Claire is my most outstanding student, and I absolutely will not stand by today!” Professor Martin turned and pointed directly at Vanessa, his voice thundering. “And you, you ungrateful wretch! Don’t forget who raised you all these years!” “Treating your sister like this-do you have any conscience at all?” Adrian shrank back, not daring to say a word. Professor Martin turned back around, placing his broad hand heavily on my shoulder. “Claire, don’t be afraid. I’m here today. Let’s see who dares lay a finger on you.” Looking at Professor Martin’s towering figure, the grief and despair in my heart finally found a small measure of comfort. Just then, my mother suddenly let out a strange laugh and strode into the master bedroom. Ten seconds later, she emerged clutching that black diary. My heart seized, and every hair on my body stood on end. “Professor Martin, don’t rush to play the hero just yet.” My mother forcibly shoved the diary into Professor Martin’s hands, her lips curling into a deeply malicious smile. “Take a look at what’s inside first. After you read it, then decide whether you still want to defend this bitch.” Professor Martin frowned, his face full of suspicion as he accepted the diary and flipped directly to the first page. The living room fell into a deathly silence. Even the sound of breathing was clearly audible. I stared intently at Professor Martin’s face, my nerves stretched to the breaking point. At first, Professor Martin only casually scanned the words on the page. But in just half a minute, his hands began to tremble violently, beyond his control. His breathing became labored, his chest heaving dramatically. Large beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead and slid down his cheeks. I watched as the color drained from his once-ruddy face, leaving him pale as a sheet. “This… this can’t be… you… you actually…” Professor Martin’s voice shook so badly he couldn’t finish a single sentence. He slammed the diary shut and looked up, fixing me with a terrifying stare. That look was filled with endless shock, fear, and bone-deep hatred. “Professor Martin?” I called out tentatively, trying to reach for the edge of his sleeve. But he jerked away. The next second, Professor Martin let out a roar like a wild animal and raised his hand, slapping me hard across the face. He used all his strength. I was sent flying and crashed heavily onto the floor covered in broken glass. Sharp shards pierced my palms and cheeks. Blood streamed down. “You beast wearing human skin!” Professor Martin pointed at me, his eyes bloodshot with rage. I clutched my bleeding face, staring at him in disbelief. “What happened? What the hell is written in that thing?” Professor Martin charged toward me, raised his shoe, and kicked me mercilessly in the chest. The pain curled me into a ball like a shrimp. I opened my mouth wide but couldn’t make a sound. “You have the nerve to ask! You’re an absolute monster! I must have been blind to ever treat you like my own daughter!” Professor Martin turned to my mother, his attitude completely reversed. He even bent slightly at the waist, his tone full of deep apology. “Mrs. Harrison, I apologize for my earlier rudeness. A social menace like her truly doesn’t deserve to stay in this house. She should have been beaten to death long ago!” My mother smugly snatched the diary back and locked it in the bedroom again. Professor Martin crouched down, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and forced my head up. “First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll submit an application to the university to revoke your degree immediately and remove you from my research team! Trash like you doesn’t deserve to exist in this world!” He slammed my head against the floor and stormed out without looking back. I lay on the cold floor, staring hard at the bedroom. The diary. That diary again. Everyone who read it changed. What secret was hidden inside? What could make them turn on me in an instant? Could it be that my mother deliberately slandered me in the diary? But that didn’t make sense. Professor Martin was a university professor with critical thinking skills. How could he be stupid enough to believe things without evidence? Unless- There was something even more damning in that diary. No. I had to see it with my own eyes. I struggled to crawl forward, trying to rush into the bedroom and open that diary. But Adrian stepped on me, pinning me down. He kicked me in the chest, his eyes vicious. “You want to know what’s in the diary?” “You don’t deserve to know!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367341”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

Three months after I married the wealthy Eleanor, she passed away. She left behind a vast fortune and a rebellious teenage son. Caleb was volatile and sullen, filled with an intense hatred for me, his stepfather. To force me out, he’d put cleaner in my food, scatter cockroaches on my bed—he stopped at nothing. But I didn’t care. I continued to dutifully look after him. Finally, when Caleb turned eighteen, I had fulfilled his mother’s dying wish. I packed my things, ready to leave. But Caleb, eyes red, tackled me onto the bed. “Didn’t you promise my mom you’d always take care of me?” He bit open a condom wrapper with his teeth, then pulled my legs up to rest on his waist. “Physical care counts too, doesn’t it?” The first time I met Caleb, he was wearing a school uniform, lounging on the couch, listening to his mother introduce me. When he heard we were married, Caleb let out a dismissive scoff. His dark eyes, framed by messy hair, burned with intense disgust, his voice dripping with mockery. “Stepparent? A stepfather only seven years older than me?” His challenging tone clearly embarrassed his mother. I tried to smooth things over: “Don’t worry about titles, you can call me whatever you like.” Kids his age are often rebellious and sharp-tongued, and Caleb was notoriously difficult. “Anything?” Caleb jutted out his jaw, a cocky grin on his face. “Then I’ll call you a bastard.” That day, Caleb infuriated his mother so much she ended up in the hospital. After that, he began to act. He played the part of a dutiful son in front of his mother, seemingly getting along with me. But when we were alone, he revealed the viciousness of a cornered animal. Caleb’s first ‘welcome gift’ to me came after his mother was discharged. At the dinner table, Caleb looked at me, eyes sparkling with feigned expectation. “Why aren’t you eating?” I stirred my spoon in the soup. A pungent smell wafted from it, a clear sign it had been “enhanced.” Seeing I still didn’t move, his expression instantly softened into a pitiful pout. “Mom, does he hate me? He won’t even eat the soup I served.” “It’s okay, we’re not real father and son anyway. It’s normal for him not to like me.” His mother quickly put an arm around him, trying to comfort him. Where his mother couldn’t see, Caleb’s eyes glinted sharply, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. I feigned illness, claiming I wasn’t feeling well enough to eat, and went hungry that entire night. Later, in the middle of the night, when I went downstairs to the kitchen for food, I ran into Caleb. He casually leaned over, lighting a cigarette off the stove burner, then stood lazily, leaning against the counter. “Hungry?” The cigarette flickered between his fingers, his face obscured by the smoke, making him hard to discern. Just as I was about to leave, he suddenly grabbed my collar, pulling me back. We were inches apart. Caleb suddenly laughed, blowing a puff of smoke directly into my face. His dark pupils were filled with malice. “Get out now, or I’ll make your life a living hell.” I remained silent for a moment. Then I peeled his fingers off me. I plucked the cigarette from his hand and crushed it in the sink. “Don’t let your mom find out. She’d be upset.” Caleb froze, surprised by my words. As I started to walk upstairs, Caleb’s angry voice followed me. “Don’t pretend like you care about my mom, you fake!” “You just finished grad school and married into my family. It’s obviously for the money, isn’t it?” “I’ll give you money. Just stay away from my mom!” The impatient teen couldn’t hide his true feelings; his real intentions came spilling out in just a few sentences. But before Caleb could pull off any more stunts to force me out, his mother became seriously ill and was hospitalized. Barely a month later, she passed away. When I found Caleb, the rain poured down, but he sat motionless at his parents’ grave, looking like a lost puppy. I held the umbrella over his head. “Come on, let’s go home.” Caleb snapped back to reality as if waking from a trance. He looked up at me, his dark eyes devoid of any emotion. “Home? Do I even have a home anymore?” That day, I forcibly carried Caleb home. He hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for three days. On my shoulder, he went from cursing me loudly to quietly shedding tears.

Back home, I brewed a strong mug of ginger tea and offered it to Caleb. Perhaps it was embarrassment from having cried earlier. He awkwardly turned his face away, refusing to look at me. Out of nowhere, he blurted out: “Why haven’t you left yet?” I sat on the sofa, carefully cleaning a framed photo of his mother. Seeing I didn’t respond, after a long silence, he suddenly stood up and smashed the bowl on the floor. “My mom is dead! Why aren’t you gone yet?!” I carefully placed the photo back before looking at him. “I’ll take care of you until you’re an adult.” Caleb scoffed. “Are you drunk? You really think you can be my dad?” Leaving an enraged Caleb, I went upstairs alone. “Your mother and I signed an agreement. I only get the inheritance if I care for you until you’re an adult.” From that day on, Caleb and I settled into an unnervingly strange peace. After accepting the reality that both his parents were gone, he dedicated all his energy to spite me, determined to make me leave. Because I told Caleb he needed to focus on his studies, he’d skip school every day to hang out at the local gaming cafe. After several days of this, I finally lost my patience. Inside the gaming cafe, cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air. Caleb was gaming with his friends online, headphones on. Judging by the screen, their game wasn’t going so well. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he impatiently swore under his breath. He turned, saw me, and raised an eyebrow. “Caleb, what the hell? Why’d you go AFK?” The punk next to him yelled in frustration, his character’s health bar bottomed out. Caleb looked completely innocent, pointing at me. “He won’t let me play.” The punk shot me a dirty look, then shoved me roughly. “Who the hell are you? Looking for a fight?” Immediately, a few of his punk friends gathered around, their eyes narrowed menacingly. I pulled up the nearest chair and sat down. “Want to make a bet?” “One game. If I win, you guys have to beat Caleb up every time you see him here, so he won’t dare step foot in this place again.” The punk’s eyes lit up. “What if you lose?” I tossed a stack of a thousand dollars onto the table. “If I lose, consider it on me for your games.” In the end, they put forward Caleb, who was supposedly the best among them, to compete against me. Caleb raised an eyebrow, confidently launching the game. He thought he’d completely crush me, but he was shocked when I landed headshot after headshot. By the end of the game, Caleb’s face was as dark as a storm cloud. I couldn’t help but laugh. He had no idea that back in college, to earn money for living expenses, I’d been a professional booster for four years. A few kids gathered around me, excitedly begging me to help them rank up. The punk leader enthusiastically clapped Caleb on the back. “Is he your brother? He’s amazing! You should get him to help us out!” Caleb sat there, stone-faced, not saying a word. Seeing him so deflated, my mood brightened. “I won. You guys have to uphold your end of the bet.” The punk glanced at Caleb but started to backtrack. “No way, Caleb’s my buddy. He covers all our internet fees. We’ve got a bro code!” The group huddled around Caleb, spouting their so-called loyalty. Caleb, seated on the chair, looked at me with a fake smile. “You really think you can control me?” At that, the kids all started laughing, seemingly mocking my overconfidence. But I didn’t care. I just glanced at my watch. Then I flashed Caleb a big smile. “Technically, I can’t. But right now, principles are calling.” As soon as I finished speaking, police cars swarmed outside, sirens blaring. Operating a gaming cafe and letting minors in during school hours is a big no-no, and the owner could get fined. Before the police could even come upstairs, the manager, looking stressed, started herding them out. “What did you guys do to get the cops here?! Don’t you dare come back!” Once we were in the car, Caleb coldly fastened his seatbelt. “You’d already called the police, hadn’t you? Why bother with the bet then? Just to stall for time?” My mood was excellent as I dropped Caleb off at the school gates. As he got out of the car, I told him: “No. I just genuinely wanted to completely crush you in a game.” Caleb glared at me, his fists clenched. One foot was already out of the car when he heard my parting words. “Caleb, I have to say, your gaming skills are just like you: a total scrub.” Leaving a fuming Caleb behind, I drove off. From that day on, Caleb never skipped class to go to a gaming cafe again. Perhaps it was because of my “discipline” that day. Or perhaps it was because I’d conveniently donated to the school’s updated security system.

Another time, I pulled back my covers, ready for bed. Hundreds of cockroaches scattered, swarming off my bed. Caleb leaned in the doorway, watching the spectacular scene, a smile playing on his lips. “Oh dear, how are you going to sleep now?” Looking at his malicious grin, I walked out of the room, only to find all the other rooms in the villa were locked. “The news says there’s been a lot of burglaries lately. I didn’t feel safe, so I locked them all up.” Caleb followed behind me, carrying a cup of hot milk, explaining slowly. I went to the living room, planning to spend the night on the sofa. But Caleb suddenly, like his hands suddenly failed him, dumped the hot milk all over the sofa. Then he looked at me with an innocent expression. “Oops, my hand slipped.” Seeing me look at him, Caleb struggled to suppress his laughter. “Well, looks like you have nowhere to sleep now. But there’s an unlocked storage room downstairs, you could go…” But before he could finish, I walked straight to his room. I entered, collapsed onto Caleb’s bed, and immediately fell asleep. He stood by the bed, fuming. “Get up! You’re not sleeping in my bed!” I burrowed deeper into the covers. “My bad, my foot slipped.” His plan backfired spectacularly. Caleb angrily tugged at me, trying to make me get up. “If you sleep in my bed, where am I supposed to sleep?” “Well, then it looks like you’ll have to make do with the storage room for the night.” “……” No matter how much Caleb cursed at me, I remained unmoving. Eventually, in the middle of the night, Caleb grew tired of yelling. He sat on the edge of the bed and had a breakdown for a bit. I knew Caleb struggled with sleeping in unfamiliar beds. He agonized for a long time, then threw back the covers and lay down beside me. “This is my bed! Why shouldn’t I sleep in it!” He unceremoniously kicked me. Seeing I still didn’t stir, Caleb finally succumbed to sleepiness. The next morning, I woke up to find Caleb wrapped around me like an octopus. I have a habit of hogging the covers when I sleep, so he must have gotten cold in the middle of the night. I stretched and got out of bed, preparing breakfast for Caleb. Caleb ate with a scowl, clearly having not slept well. I considerately served him a bowl of porridge. He gave me a cold glance, then sniffed it. I leaned back in my chair and smiled. “I’m not like you, using childish tricks.” After confirming there was no strange odor, Caleb took a spoonful of porridge, ignoring me completely. Once I was sure he’d eaten, I started to serve myself. The first spoonful I scooped up contained a large cockroach carcass. Caleb happened to see it. Caleb’s expression gradually froze, then cracked. He turned and rushed into the bathroom, throwing up violently. I leaned against the bathroom doorway, kindly explaining. “There were so many cockroaches last night. A few probably made their way into the kitchen.” “But don’t feel too bad. Just think of it as extra protein.” Clutching the toilet, Caleb vomited for a long time, his eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed. He shot me a furious glare, deliberately bumping my shoulder as he stormed past me. He then got into the car waiting outside and left for school. By noon, I suddenly received a call from the school. The homeroom teacher’s voice was anxious on the phone. She said Caleb had gotten into a fight in class and split a kid’s head open.

By the time I arrived at the school, the teacher had already given Caleb a severe scolding. The other child, his head bandaged, stood behind his parents, looking smugly at Caleb. “He’s an ill-mannered brat, clearly with no one teaching him right from wrong, hitting my son like that!” “And to think such an uncultured student is allowed to attend this school?” The opposing parent was aggressively demanding. Caleb remained silent throughout. The teacher tried to defend him but was quickly silenced by their aggression. Upon seeing me, she looked at me like I was her last hope. “You’re Caleb’s……” But when it came to the title, she hesitated. I looked to be in my late twenties, not much like an elder, yet Caleb had no siblings. As I stepped into the room, Caleb lazily looked up at me. He stared intently, a playful glint in his eyes, a smirk on his lips. “This is my…… stepfather.” Everyone’s expression changed upon hearing that. Scrutinizing, mocking stares enveloped me. Caleb maintained his lazy smile. Clearly, this was his revenge, willing to even hurt himself to spite me. “Yes, I’m Caleb’s stepfather,” I introduced myself directly. “Regarding Caleb hitting someone, we need to know why.” The father opposite snorted. “What reason could there be? With Caleb’s upbringing, he’s capable of anything.” Caleb clicked his tongue against his cheek and smirked. He looked as if he didn’t care what anyone said. But I knew he did. He cared about people’s love and affection, and he minded being blamed or insulted. “But from what I understand, that’s not right.” I looked directly at the injured child. “You know very well why Caleb hit you, don’t you?” The child was so scared by my gaze that he hid behind his parents. “Before I came, I already checked the school security footage. Your child was verbally abusing Caleb first!” “Of course, hitting someone is wrong no matter what. I hope both children can apologize to each other, and I will cover all of your child’s medical expenses and damages.” Hearing “medical expenses and damages,” the other parents’ attitude softened, and his parent’s tone immediately softened, eager to settle. “Actually, boys will be boys. Fights are normal, it’s not a big deal.” He nudged his son, who reluctantly lowered his head to apologize to Caleb. Caleb, meanwhile, remained propped against the table, his cap pulled down low, completely still. “Caleb, apologize.” He suddenly looked up at me, his gaze intense. “Why do you think I should listen to you?” He dropped his usual playful smile, stubbornly refusing to bow his head. After a long moment, I bent down and bowed to the child. “I apologize. I apologize on Caleb’s behalf for hitting you.” Caleb’s body, which had been leaning against the table, slowly straightened. He looked at me with a strange expression. He seemed surprised that I would humble myself and apologize for him. By now, the office doorway was crowded with students eager to watch the show. I spoke each word clearly: “Caleb is not a child without guidance or parents. He has me.” “If anyone dares to bully Caleb again, then I apologize, but I will deal with it in my own way. Feel free to test me.” On the way home, he suddenly spoke. “Why?” The question came out of nowhere, but I understood what he meant. “A stepfather is still a father. I promised your mother I would take good care of you.” Caleb snorted, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes, resting. When we got home, several extra cars were parked in the garage. As we approached the front door, we saw a group of people lounging on the sofa. Seeing Caleb, they enthusiastically greeted him. “Caleb, Uncle Mark missed you so much!” Faced with Caleb’s indifference, Uncle Mark wasn’t annoyed, still smiling broadly. “I heard about your mother’s passing. How will a child like you manage? Come live with your Uncle Mark.” As soon as he finished speaking, another person grabbed Caleb’s arm. “Caleb’s last name is Smith. He’s our family. Why should he go with you?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367342”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

My former boss called me, and before I could even speak, he tore into me: “What time is it and you’re still not here? If this project falls through, can you take responsibility? Get over here right now!” My former boss spoke as if it were perfectly natural, like I was still some disposable workhorse he could summon at will. Before I could say anything, he hung up. Then HR called: “Why aren’t you here yet? The boss is furious! You’re usually so reliable! Even if you’re upset about your year-end bonus, you can’t just abandon your work!” I laughed and explained: “It’s not that I won’t work—I resigned last month!” Today was supposed to be my first day at my new company. When I mentioned my resignation from before the holidays, Melissa from HR’s tone became dismissive: “Oh, that. I saw your resignation letter, Mr. Grant saw it too. But you know how busy everyone was before the holidays—we just didn’t get around to discussing it properly. Now that the holidays are over, let’s sit down and talk it through, okay?” “Talk about what?” I asked. I’d already successfully resigned. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing left to discuss. “Terms, of course!” Melissa immediately replied. “Mr. Grant said he’d give you a $500 raise. In this economy, what other company would give you a raise so easily? Think about it—that’s $6,000 over a year.” I couldn’t help calculating in my head. Those few employees in the department who left right at quitting time every day and never followed through on projects—I heard they each got a $10,000 year-end bonus. Last year, I generated over a hundred million in revenue for the company. That major project I followed from start to finish had a contract value of eight million dollars. I did the work of three people alone, had the most overtime hours in the department, and didn’t take a single sick day. But at the annual meeting when they handed out the Outstanding Employee awards, all the projects I’d signed became Claire’s. She got a $50,000 bonus plus the latest smartphone. My year-end bonus was $250. Just thinking about it felt absurd. I wanted an answer: “Melissa, why was my year-end bonus $250?” Silence on the other end for a few seconds. “Sophia, you have to understand—the company has its policies.” She chose her words carefully. “Even though you do a lot of work, sometimes you’re too rigid, you don’t focus enough on teamwork. You rarely attend team-building activities, and you don’t communicate much with colleagues. Year-end bonuses naturally have to consider overall performance.” I laughed bitterly. I remembered last year’s company team-building—a weekend mountain hike. I didn’t go because I had to work overtime. Friday night dinner. I didn’t go because I had to rush a proposal. And that time the department went to karaoke—I declined. Because I had a client meeting the next day and couldn’t afford to be careless. Every time I skipped a department gathering, it was to do better work. And now they were using that against me? What about everyone else? What were they doing when I wasn’t there? Drinking, singing, taking group photos, posting on social media. The captions were always: We’re family, best team ever. So that’s what “overall performance” meant. “Are there other reasons?” I asked. Melissa thought for a moment, then lowered her voice: “Also, Mr. Grant said that last year you had a few projects where, um, client feedback had some issues, so…” “Which client? What issues? When was this feedback given? Why have I never heard about it?” I immediately pressed. “Well… I’m not really clear on the details. It’s just what I heard.” They heard I didn’t do well. They heard there were complaints about me. They heard I didn’t fit in. So my year-end bonus was $250—no more, no less. The perfect insult. I gave up completely, my voice calm: “Melissa, I understand.” “But I already resigned before the holidays and completed the normal exit procedures.” “Sophia, why are you being so stubborn? Listen to me—” “Melissa.” I cut her off. “Seven years. I never missed a day of work, never took a day off sick, never refused overtime once. I believe I’ve done right by this company. If there’s anything that needs to be handed over, I can cooperate. Beyond that, don’t call me again.” “Sophia Bennett” She lost it, her voice shrill: “What kind of attitude is that? I’m trying to help you and you don’t know what’s good for you!” I hung up directly. I didn’t want my former company ruining my good mood on my first day at the new job.

My phone hadn’t been quiet for five minutes when it rang again. This time it was a FaceTime call from Claire, my former subordinate who’d stolen my Outstanding Employee award last year. I declined. Half a minute later, SnapChat messages popped up, one after another. “Hey, why aren’t you answering?” “Mr. Grant is really angry. Please reply!” “You’re usually so reliable—why are you being so difficult this time? Don’t make things hard for Mr. Grant.” I looked at these messages, my heart perfectly calm. Claire—full name Claire Patterson—had been with the company three years. I was the one who trained her from an intern. I taught her how to negotiate with clients, how to step in when projects had problems. But she stole my credit and my year-end bonus. My phone buzzed again. She sent a long message, probably panicking because I hadn’t replied: “Look, I know you’re upset about the bonus, but you can’t blame the company for this.” “Last year was tough for everyone with the economy. Mr. Grant actually values you a lot. If you quit over this little bit of money, what will people say? Besides, the company invested so much in training you all these years—can you really just walk away with a clear conscience?” Conscience. I stared at those two words and suddenly found it almost funny. I typed back: “Who secretly copied my client files while I was on sick leave? Who repackaged my ideas at staff meetings and presented them as her own? Who bought bubble tea for the entire department before year-end evaluations—and ‘forgot’ only me?” “You’re the last person who should talk to me about conscience!” Less than three minutes after I sent that message, she sent another one with a tone of disappointment: “What’s the point of saying all this? You’re just making trouble, and you’re the only one who’ll suffer in the end. Where do you think you can go after leaving the company? Do you know how many graduate students can’t find work right now? You’re just a bachelor’s degree holder, thirty years old and still unmarried. Everything impressive on your resume came from company resources.” “Melissa already said if you don’t come back, Mr. Grant will spread the word. Who in this industry will dare hire you then?” So this was a threat! My phone buzzed again: “Hello? Say something! We’re all waiting.” I opened the chat and sent an emoji: A smiling bean. Then I blocked her and got up to wash up. My new job today was at Horizon Group—our former company’s client, the one with the eight-million-dollar project. The client contact was Mr. Walker. We’d gotten to know each other through the project, and he was very straightforward. When my former company backstabbed me before the holidays, Mr. Walker sent me a message: “Ms. Bennett, our company desperately needs talent like you. You’re wasted where you are. Name your salary—contact me anytime if you’re interested!” I finished washing my face and looked at myself in the mirror. This year, I was going to live differently.

I walked through the doors of Horizon Group, my new company. The receptionist already recognized me and greeted me with a smile: “Ms. Bennett! Mr. Walker is waiting for you in his office.” Mr. Walker’s office was at the end of the corridor, door open. He was looking at something on his computer. When he heard the knock, he looked up and smiled: “Sophia, come in. Have a seat.” I sat across from him. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.” He got straight to the point. I sat up a bit straighter: “Go ahead.” “That project from before the holidays—you remember it, right? The eight-million-dollar contract with your former company.” The project I’d pulled countless all-nighters for, revised endless times, only to have Claire accept the award for it in the end. Mr. Walker continued: “This project needs to be inspected now. Originally I was going to send someone else, but then I thought—you followed this project from beginning to end. Nobody understands it better than you.” “So I’d like you to go,” he looked at me, “to your former company this morning to inspect the project.” I looked into Mr. Walker’s candid eyes. I remembered the day I resigned, how Mr. Grant didn’t even look up as he set my resignation letter aside. I remembered Claire standing on stage accepting my award, eyes red as she thanked everyone. I remembered Melissa saying my $250 year-end bonus was because I didn’t fit in. I remembered this morning—the phone calls they’d taken turns making, ordering, threatening, coaxing, finally turning into furious cursing. “Alright, I’ll go right away.” I smiled slightly. “Besides, I’m curious to see what they’re like on their first day back.” After leaving Mr. Walker’s office, I went to HR to complete my onboarding. Finally, the HR manager handed me an ID badge. It read: Project Director—Sophia. Back at my desk, just as I sat down, Mr. Grant called. Over seven years, this number had appeared on my phone countless times. Late-night urgent calls, weekend overtime orders, last-minute tasks during business trips. Every time, I answered immediately, saying “Yes, Mr. Grant,” “Right away, Mr. Grant,” “No problem, Mr. Grant.” I answered. “Sophia!” He was furious. “Well, well! Not answering calls, not replying to messages, blocking everyone! Think you’re something special now, don’t you?” “Let me tell you—don’t be so ungrateful!” He got angrier as he spoke. “If you don’t show up today, I’ll mark you as absent without leave and fire you! I’ll put it on your record—let’s see which company will dare hire you then!” Fire me. I laughed internally. “Mr. Grant,” I said calmly, “I’ll be at your company shortly.” Mr. Grant’s voice couldn’t hide his smugness: “Ha, so you do know what’s good for you. Hurry up—I’m waiting.” When I received Mr. Walker’s job offer before the holidays, I didn’t accept immediately. The night of the annual meeting when Claire stole my credit, I received that $250 year-end bonus. That night, I stayed awake until six the next morning. I figured something out. This company never valued ability. All it could give me was more work, more blame, more silent suffering in the corner. And when you finally broke through, the person on stage accepting awards would always be someone who knew how to play the game. That very night, I decided to resign and join my former biggest client’s company. Coming back to the present, I stood up and hung the ID badge around my neck. When I showed up at my former company as a client, I wondered what their expressions would be. I was looking forward to it.

The taxi stopped in front of the familiar office building. I pushed open the door. Everything was still the same as before. I’d barely taken a few steps inside when Melissa walked over with a cup of tea. “Sophia, I thought you had such backbone,” she stopped in front of me, looking me up and down. “That attitude on the phone this morning—I thought you were going places. What happened? Flew around in a circle and landed right back here?” I looked at her and let out a cold laugh without saying anything. Seeing I wasn’t responding, Melissa got bolder: “What, playing meek now? Where’s that attitude from yesterday?” As she spoke, she deliberately glanced at my chest, then made an exaggerated sound: “What’s that? What’s with this badge? Our company badges aren’t this color. Sophia, did you walk into the wrong building? Or—” Her eyes darted around, her face showing that look of sudden realization, laughing even louder: “Or did you become a delivery driver? That blue lanyard—don’t all delivery drivers wear those? Hahaha!” Because the badge was flipped around, they couldn’t see the company name. Claire’s voice rang out: “There you are! Finally!” “Look, you’ve made your point, haven’t you? Hurry up and wrap up the project—the client’s people are coming soon.” She tried to grab my arm. I shook her off. Claire’s expression turned unpleasant. She lowered her voice: “I’m trying to help you. Mr. Grant’s in a bad mood today. Just do your work and don’t provoke him. You don’t want to get chewed out when the client’s people arrive!” I sneered: “Didn’t you complete this project independently? Mr. Grant said so himself at the annual meeting—you handled it all alone and did an excellent job.” “The Outstanding Employee award and bonus were both yours. Why do you need me to finish it now?” Melissa chimed in from the side: “Sophia, that’s not right. This isn’t the time to be petty! Just get to work!” I stood there without moving. During the standoff, Mr. Grant’s roar came from inside: “Where’s Sophia? Is she here yet? Tell her to get in here now!” Mr. Grant strode out of his office. He looked at me, sizing me up and down. “Sophia, look at you,” he said condescendingly. “You’ve made your scene, caused your drama. Now you know to come back?” I nodded calmly: “I’m here on business.” Mr. Grant snorted: “I’ve seen plenty of people like you. Do a little work and think you’re something special, think you’ve been wronged, want to make a scene so the boss will coddle you. Let me tell you—it won’t work! That’s just how the world is. The earth keeps spinning without anyone. You think the company would collapse without you? Ridiculous!” He put his hands on his hips, his voice getting louder: “I thought you actually had some backbone. But here you are, back like a good little employee, aren’t you?” “First official day back and you’re already late. That attitude won’t fly. This month’s salary—completely docked. Maybe that’ll teach you a lesson.” He looked at me, waiting to see that familiar expression of resignation on my face. I laughed coldly: “Are you sure you want to treat me this way?” Claire chimed in: “Mr. Grant, please calm down. Ms. Bennett might just be in a bad mood. I asked her to work earlier and she snapped at me.” Mr. Grant glared at me: “Bad mood means you can abandon your work? Bad mood means you can ignore phone calls? Let me tell you—the workplace isn’t your home. Nobody’s going to indulge you!” He waved his hand: “Hurry up and get ready. The client’s sending someone today to coordinate on the project. You’re in charge of reception. They’re paying the bills—be polite and don’t screw this up for me.” “Mr. Grant, the client’s representative is already here.” He froze: “Already here? Where?” “Right here!” I flipped my badge around. All three of them froze in place when they saw what was written on it.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367343”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn