Category: English

To cure my ‘sister’s’ supposed depression, Carter Thorne—the man who was my childhood sweetheart, my fiancé, the one who swore he’d marry no one but me—secretly married her instead. So I turned around and accepted the arranged marriage my family had brokered for me. I married Declan Blackwood, the undisputed king of New York’s elite, a man who had silently loved me for years. For seven years, he worshipped my very skin. He was a man starved, clinging to me every night as if I were air. If I had asked for the stars, he would have plucked them from the sky for me. I thought I had finally found my happiness. Then, one night, tangled in the sheets after we’d made love, I overheard him on the phone with his best friend. “Jasmine’s an international star now. When are you finally dropping Seraphina?” “What’s the difference?” Declan’s voice was a low murmur. “I’m with someone I don’t love anyway. Besides, I have to keep Sera in check, stop her from ruining the happiness Jasmine fought so hard for.” My world tilted. Later, in his study, I opened his laptop. In a hidden folder, a universe of obsession unfolded: a hundred thousand photos of Jasmine Vance. A hundred unsent love letters. The delusion was shattered. It was time to wake up. I bought a life-sized silicone mannequin and orchestrated a fire. From this life to the next, in heaven or in hell, our paths would never cross again. 1 The order confirmation for the items I needed glowed on the screen. I shut the laptop. Just three more days. Then, according to plan, I would disappear from Declan Blackwood’s world forever. I turned, and my breath caught. I was staring straight into his smiling, almond-shaped eyes. He must have stood on the porch for a while, letting the winter chill and the lingering scent of nicotine fade from his coat before daring to approach me. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his warmth a familiar ghost. “Why are you still up?” he murmured into my hair. His embrace, once my safest harbor, now sent a bitter acid creeping into my heart. For seven years, he had put me on a pedestal. Everyone in our circle knew Declan Blackwood kept me, his darling wife, tucked away in a gilded cage. He’d told me it was love at first sight, that he’d adored me from afar for fourteen agonizing years. At our wedding, he’d stood at the altar with tears in his eyes, vowing that marrying me was a dream he never wanted to wake from. He knew my history. He’d used the full force of the Blackwood empire to go to war with Carter Thorne, the man who’d abandoned me. He’d sabotaged Jasmine’s career to avenge me, snarling that he despised anyone who had ever caused me pain. He was a phenomenal actor. So good that I, an award-winning actress myself, never saw the performance. A bitter memory surfaced. In the throes of passion, he’d always call me “Sera,” but the word was always slurred, thick on his tongue. I thought it was just a quirk of his passion, a sound lost to ecstasy. Now, I replayed it in my mind. J-Sera… Jasmine. The truth was a shard of ice in my gut. I lowered my head, secretly wiping a tear from the corner of my eye with my thumb. He didn’t notice, lost in his own narrative. “Your sister won the big award. Let’s just stay home from the industry party tomorrow. I don’t want you to see her and get upset.” I silently counted. This was at least the hundredth time he’d used an excuse like this to keep me out of the limelight. I used to think it was his possessiveness, a flaw I indulged with a sigh, even letting it convince me to step back from my career at its peak. Now I knew the truth. It was all to clear the stage for Jasmine. “I have a meeting with Maestro Bellini tomorrow,” I said, my voice steady. “He wants me for his next leading role. I can’t miss it.” “It’s fine, we’ll skip it. I’ll smooth things over for you,” he said, his tone dismissive. “My wife never has to work another day in her life if she doesn’t want to. I can provide for you.” But it was never about the money. I had told him once that starring in a Bellini film, earning it on my own merit, was my lifelong dream. He’d sworn then, with a fire in his eyes, that he would move heaven and earth to help me achieve it. He hadn’t forgotten. It was just that Jasmine wanted the role, too. So my dream had to become her stepping stone. Seeing my silence, he softened his tone, trying to coax me. “Sera, come on, don’t be difficult. There will be other parties, other roles. But our time together… that’s what’s precious, isn’t it?” He kissed my temple. “The day after tomorrow is our seven-year anniversary. I’m planning a surprise you’ll never forget. How does that sound?” A ghost of a smile touched my lips. “It sounds perfect,” I said. “And I’ll give you my greatest gift in return.” Our seven-year itch, Declan. We’re not going to make it. From now on, you’ll be alone. Only you. My gift to you is my absence. 2 In the dead of night, after Declan was fast asleep, his arm draped possessively over me, I slipped out of bed and went to his study. The words “I don’t love her” and the digital shrine on his computer were enough. They should have been enough to sever any lingering hope. But seven years of shared memories, of whispered secrets and easy laughter… they weren’t a phantom. They were real. I couldn’t just let them go. My feet carried me to the small, sleek safe under his desk. It was Pandora’s box, humming with a dark, seductive energy. I’d asked him about it before, during lazy afternoons spent tangled up in his office. He would always deflect, teasing me, telling me to guess the combination but never giving a hint. I had tried my birthday. His birthday. Our wedding anniversary. All wrong. Now, with a trembling hand, I typed in Jasmine’s birthday. For one heart-stopping moment, I prayed I was wrong. The safe clicked open. My heart plummeted into an icy abyss. Inside, nestled on a bed of black velvet, was a pair of matching rings. The style was dated, but they were polished to a brilliant shine, clearly cherished and meticulously cared for. On the inner band, an inscription: DB & JV. Declan Blackwood & Jasmine Vance. The strength drained from my body, and a pain so sharp it felt like my heart was being carved from my chest stole my breath. Even a fool would see the truth now. Declan had never, not for a single moment, loved me. The next day, for the first time, I defied him. I went to the party. A shadow crossed Declan’s face, but he didn’t try to stop me. He simply tightened his grip on my hand. “Alright, you can go. But you’re so beautiful, Sera, you have to stay by my side. If that sister of yours tries anything, I need to be there to protect you.” He played the part of the loyal guard dog to perfection. But I knew he was just afraid I’d slip my leash and steal Jasmine’s thunder. That wasn’t my intention. I was about to stage my own death. This was my last chance to say a silent goodbye to the directors and writers who had believed in me. The moment we arrived, all eyes were on Jasmine and me. “The lead in Bellini’s next film has to be Seraphina Hayes,” someone whispered nearby. “She has the talent, and with Declan Blackwood backing her, it’s a sure thing.” Jasmine overheard. Her face soured, and she stomped over to the group. “What makes you so sure? That role is mine!” The crowd wasn’t impressed. “You’re good, but you don’t have Seraphina’s experience. A little humility goes a long way.” “Yeah, even if she’s married to a Thorne now, she’s up against a Blackwood. It’s pretty obvious who has the upper hand.” “Honestly, you win one little award and think you own the town?” Jasmine was practically vibrating with rage. “You’ll see! You’ll all eat your words!” She shot me a venomous glare. “Enjoy it while you can. We’ll see who’s laughing at the end of the night. Tramp.” With a final sneer, she shoved me. Hard. I stumbled, my knee cracking against the sharp corner of a table. Tears of pain sprang to my eyes. Beside me, Declan, my sworn protector, acted as if he’d seen nothing. He simply let it happen. I dropped my gaze, fighting the wave of acid rising in my throat. Just then, the lights in the grand ballroom dimmed. It was time for the official announcement. “Let’s give a huge congratulations to… Jasmine Vance!” “And a special thank you to our celebrated, billion-dollar-box-office screenwriter—Linden—for his support! He has graciously waived his fee for this script and even invested thirty million dollars, all to ensure that Jasmine could bring his story to life. For she is, in his words, his only leading lady, his muse!” Jasmine ascended the stage, bathed in a celestial glow. She took the microphone, her eyes finding mine in the darkness, and delivered the final blow. “You see, Seraphina? After all these years, you still can’t win against me.” “Loser!” She stood under the spotlight, a queen surrounded by her court, radiant and triumphant. I looked at Declan beside me. He was still holding my hand, but his eyes were shining with vicarious joy for Jasmine’s victory. I felt a dark, bitter laugh bubble up inside me. Yesterday, in his study, I’d found the manuscript. On the title page, the dedication was scrawled in his familiar hand: “For J.V., my muse.” Linden. The pen name he used. The name under which he poured out his soul for another woman. Even though I knew this was coming, seeing it unfold before my eyes was a fresh agony, a dull, crushing weight on my chest. Maestro Bellini found me by the bar, his expression sympathetic. “Don’t worry, my dear. There will always be a place for you in my films.” I managed a weak, sad smile and shook my head. “Thank you for your kindness, Maestro. But I’m afraid… there might not be another chance.” 3 Declan, playing the part of the oblivious, comforting husband, pulled me into his arms. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fund a few movies for you to star in, just for fun. How does that sound?” he whispered. “Tonight, I have a surprise for you on the waterfront. My love for you is more important than any movie role.” The words that once tasted like honey now felt like cloying, stale sugar on my tongue. But to avoid suspicion, I forced myself to swallow them down. “Okay.” After making my rounds and expressing my gratitude to the industry veterans who had supported me, I was ready to leave. Declan dismissed our driver, intending to take me for a drive himself. But just as he started the engine, his phone buzzed. I glanced over. I recognized the number. It was Jasmine. His expression shifted instantly. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a calculated hesitation. “Sera, something urgent just came up at the office. Would you mind going to the waterfront by yourself?” I feigned a moment of surprise, then smiled. “Of course not. You go take care of business.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, then turned and headed back into the glittering ballroom. I started the car, but I didn’t drive toward the waterfront. I drove home. To the Blackwood mansion. The time had come. All my energy now would be focused on preparing for my death tomorrow. I gathered every trace of our life together. Online, I scrubbed our history, deleting backups from the cloud until nothing remained. The physical memories, I piled together to be burned. My phone lit up. An anonymous number. The first message was a photo: Declan, drunk and flushed, passed out on a sofa next to a smirking Jasmine. [He has a sensitive stomach, you know? But he still took all those shots for me. Hope you’re not mad, sis. ] [He may fight with the Thornes in public, snatching my roles, but did you know that behind the scenes he compensates me a hundred times over? Do you know why?] [Did you know Declan was my little shadow growing up? He’s always loved me. Marrying you was just his way of keeping you on a leash!] [You didn’t really believe someone like him would just fall in love with you for no reason, did you? Don’t be naive.] [He told me that every night, he has to imagine it’s me he’s holding just to get through it. He also said you’re just Carter’s sloppy seconds, that you’re disgusting for not even saving your first time for him!] The texts fell like an avalanche of poison. My heart was a frozen stone. I felt nothing. I simply moved faster, methodically preparing the scene. I positioned the mannequin in the bedroom, ensuring it would be consumed by the flames, then drenched the house in gasoline. After forwarding every one of Jasmine’s texts to the most ruthless paparazzi team in the city, I snapped my SIM card in two and tossed the pieces into the bushes. I pressed the ignition button on the remote detonator. Then I turned and walked toward the distant horizon. The path ahead was dark, but that didn’t matter. I knew, eventually, I would walk into the dawn. Declan, meanwhile, was completely oblivious. He looked down at Jasmine, his voice laced with an unconscious note of reprimand. “Jasmine, what are you doing here? My anniversary with Sera is tomorrow. This will make her suspicious.” Jasmine’s eyes welled with tears. “Are you blaming me?” Panic flared in Declan’s eyes. He rushed to reassure her. “No, of course not. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, Jasmine.” She crossed her arms with a sniff, offering a grudging acceptance. The Blackwood family butler’s number flashed on his screen. Declan silenced it with a frown. After the fifteenth call in a row, a cold dread began to creep up his spine. “What is it?” he answered, his voice sharp. “Sir, it’s terrible… the missus… she… she set the house on fire and killed herself!” “We did everything we could, sir… but there was nothing to be done.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393326”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The night my mother jumped into the Silverveil, I finally understood her mortal madness. Some loves are worth drowning for. Others deserve to die. Everyone said my mother, Isolde, was blessed by fate. A mere mortal, yet she had won the eternal devotion of my father, Valerius, the Celestial God of War*. (*Note: The highest-ranking general in the Celestial Realm.) But my mother once told me, “A woman must never debase herself. It doesn’t matter who your father is. If the day comes that he betrays me, I will return to my mortal world, and we will never meet again.” Mother taught me mortal women bleed red, not gold like goddesses—but our pride weighs more than celestial jade. Because of her teachings, when I married the Celestial Emperor, Orion, we carved our names together into the Fate-Mirror Stone, vowing to grow old as one. But in the end, my father still betrayed her, moving the celestial, Lyra, into his sacred hall. And the Emperor, my husband, betrayed me too, bringing home a fragile Jade Hare, a shape-shifting spirit who dwells in moonbeams. On the day my father remarried, my mother leaped into the Silverveil River and vanished from the Celestial Realm. And as I watched the Emperor clasp the hand of his new love, I knew it was time for me to leave as well. 1 My mother was once the most beautiful woman in the Celestial Realm, but recently, a shadow had fallen over her. When we met, her face was gaunt, her eyes clouded with an exhaustion she couldn’t hide. “Seraphina,” she said, her voice a whisper, “your father has fallen in love with someone else.” I was stunned. “Mother, you and Father are the celestial couple everyone admires. How could this be? He has always cherished you. Are you sure you’re not mistaken?” A bitter smile touched her lips. “I was a fool. How can a mortal’s fleeting beauty ever compete with the ageless immortality of a goddess?” My mother, a mortal, had married a god. Though his divine essence protected her, slowing the decay of time, she was not of the celestial race. In recent years, fine lines had begun to trace their way across her face. I learned the truth then. After giving birth to me, her body had weakened. My father took a long retreat to the Argent Peaks, where he met Lyra. No one knew that they had fallen in love at first sight, spending a century of bliss together and secretly having a child. Though I was my father’s daughter, half of my blood was mortal. My celestial power was inherently flawed, destined never to reach its full potential. My father was the God of War. How could he tolerate having only one child with an incomplete spiritual root? He treated us well, my mother and me, but his pride was a stubborn, unyielding thing. He craved an heir worthy of his title, one with pure, noble blood. “I thought he was in seclusion, meditating,” my mother said, her voice trembling with the memory of her pain. “All that time, I was alone, enduring the whispers and scorn of the heavens. They mocked me for being mortal, unworthy of being the God of War’s wife.” Her voice broke. “A mortal woman, raising a child, tormented by the Empress herself, who claimed I had seduced a god who had dedicated his life to discipline! I fought for years to win their respect, and just when I had, your father brought home another child, claiming he and Lyra had pledged their lives to each other long ago in the mountains!” “Seraphina, I told you, if he ever betrayed me, I would return to my world. That time has come. I hope you won’t try to stop me.” I squeezed her hand, my voice firm. “Mother, I am your flesh and blood, raised by your teachings. Whatever you decide, I will support you.” A relieved smile touched her lips. “And you?” she asked softly. “How are things between you and the Emperor?” I sighed, sinking to my knees. “I have failed you, Mother. I have failed the marriage you so carefully chose for me. The Emperor has brought home a Jade Hare. He dotes on her. I have already decided to leave him.” A flicker of pain crossed her eyes. The Emperor, Orion, had been her handpicked choice for me. As the daughter of the God of War, I had been a prized bride, sought after by the finest men from all the realms. The Dragon Prince of the Eastern Sea, the Empress’s own nephew, gods from every corner of the heavens—they had all vied for my hand. But my mother had only one condition: whoever married me must have no other woman for all of eternity. She had been a princess in the mortal realm, she said, and had seen too many men discard their wives for concubines, their hearts fickle and cruel. “A woman’s life is bound to a man’s. When he changes his heart, it is a tragedy for both women.” I was her beloved daughter. She wanted nothing more than a life of peace and happiness for me. The Dragon Prince was handsome but notoriously promiscuous. The Empress’s nephew had returned from his mortal trial with a secret lover already hidden in his palace. The high gods of the Celestial Realm were free spirits, unwilling to be tied down by marriage. Only Orion, the Celestial Emperor, was different. He had slumbered for a century on the Adamant Spire, and in the first moment of his awakening, he had asked my mother for my hand. “Seraphina,” he’d said, his voice filled with a thousand years of longing, “for a millennium, you are all I have dreamed of.” He claimed to have fallen in love with me after a single, fleeting glance a hundred years ago. He treated me with unparalleled tenderness. He was a being of pure, cold light, and in his presence, I too fell in love. On our wedding day, a river of crimson silk stretched across the heavens. He promised to love me for all eternity. We carved our names together on the Fate-Mirror Stone. But that was only the first century. Now, he had found a new love. 2 Orion returned from a three-day trip to the Adamant Spire with a Jade Hare. She was a pitiful creature, her body covered in wounds. “I found her at the foot of the mountain,” Orion explained. “She was being attacked by a spirit beast. She wouldn’t have survived. I saved her out of pity, and now the grateful thing insists on following me.” As he spoke, the hare transformed into a beautiful young woman. I saw no harm in it and suggested she could stay in our palace, Seraphina Hall, as an attendant. Orion’s smile froze. He looked at me in disbelief. “Seraphina, you have always been the kindest of heart. The Jade Hare has such a humble background, and you would make her a servant? If she becomes an attendant, with her weak spiritual power, she will surely be bullied.” The Jade Hare leaned weakly against him, her eyes instantly welling with tears. “I have been bullied my whole life. The Emperor promised me a safe place, but is it to be your servant?” I was confused. “There are tens of thousands of attendants in the Celestial Realm. Do you consider them all servants? Besides, you saved her. She can’t just stay in Seraphina Hall with no title or purpose.” Tears streamed down the Jade Hare’s face as she knelt at my feet. “Lady Seraphina, I know my status is low, but I understand that a single drop of kindness must be repaid with a flood of devotion. The Emperor saved my life. I am willing to serve him, asking for no title, only the chance to repay his grace!” I finally understood. I smiled thinly. “Orion, what is it you want?” He turned away, his tone unnatural. “Seraphina, she has nowhere else to go. Just let her stay…” “When did I say she couldn’t stay? I said if she wants to remain, she can be an attendant in Seraphina Hall. Or,” my voice turned to ice, “are you planning to take her as your consort?” He missed the frost in my eyes completely, his face lighting up with joy. “You would really be willing? I knew you were the most reasonable one. If your mother can accept Lyra, surely you and the Jade Hare can live in harmony.” “Seraphina, you know my heart belongs only to you. This is just a title, to give her a place in the Celestial Realm so she can live safely. You wouldn’t mind, would you?” You think he loves you? A God of War needs heirs with divine blood, not half-breed weaklings! The Jade Hare looked up, overjoyed. “Lady Seraphina, they say you are the daughter of the God of War, who protects all the realms. His daughter is truly as broad-minded as he is!” I said nothing. They had already made their decision and painted me as the magnanimous, benevolent wife. Orion wrapped an arm around the Jade Hare’s waist, lifting her tenderly. “Your leg is still injured. You shouldn’t be kneeling for so long.” She gazed at him through her tears, a radiant smile breaking through. “For you, my Lord, I would die a thousand deaths.” I watched this play of profound love, my heart growing cold and barren. So, this was how a life debt was repaid. With one’s body. Before I could even process it, Orion spoke again. “The night air is cold. I’ll take her to her room now. You should rest early too, Seraphina.” He carried her into the palace, striding past me without a single glance. I stood frozen, waiting, hoping he would remember. Tonight was the full moon. The night my mixed blood, celestial and mortal, warred within me, causing excruciating pain. Every full moon, it was Orion who transferred his spiritual energy to me, who stayed by my side. But tonight, he was worried about a wounded leg, about the cold night air. He had forgotten my pain. I looked up at the palace name, “Seraphina Hall,” and laughed a hollow laugh. “Once, the bright moon shone upon the iridescent cloud returning home,” I whispered. He had named this palace for me, his “iridescent cloud.” Now, another lived within its walls. The moon was still there, but the heart had changed. If that was the case, why should I stay? 3 Orion and my father held their wedding ceremonies on the same day. The procession of bridal litters stretched from my father’s hall all the way to mine. The night before, my father visited my mother’s chambers for the first time in a long while. He had shed his elaborate robes and wore a simple white tunic, just as he had on the day they first met. My mother was painting her lips in the mirror. “My lord,” she said coolly, “shouldn’t you be with your new love? Why have you come to me?” My father was silent for a long time. Then he took a jade pendant from his robes. In the lamplight, it glowed with a soft, ethereal light. My mother froze. “Do you remember?” he asked. “On our wedding day, you gave this to me as a token.” “I want to use it now to ask you to give Lyra a place. She was with me in the Argent Peaks for so long, she bore my son. I cannot let her live her life without a proper title.” He was speaking of their promise in the mortal realm. During his mortal trial, my father had saved my mother from enemy soldiers. In gratitude, she had given him the jade pendant. “If ever you have need of me, show me this, and I will do everything in my power to help you.” My mother laughed, but a tear traced its way to the corner of her mouth. “Valerius, I thought this was a token of our love.” My father frowned, quickly wiping the tear away. “Isolde, I love you very much, but you cannot expect me to be faithful to you alone. Even mortal men have multiple wives. I am the God of War! Can I not have a soulmate, a child who can inherit my title?” He took her hand, his voice softening. “Don’t worry. Lyra is a gentle soul, she doesn’t like to compete. She and the child will live in the side palace. She will get along with you.” My mother said nothing, her eyes just shimmering with unshed tears. My father’s patience wore thin. “Isolde, it has been thousands of years! When will you stop being so willful?” I watched it all unfold in my water mirror, a deep sorrow settling in my heart. My mother was right. When a man loves a woman, he will say the most beautiful things in the world to prove his devotion. Once he stops loving her, the world will offer a million justifications for his betrayal. When he had loved her, she was pure and admirable. Now, she was willful and unreasonable. I turned away. Orion was sleeping peacefully beside me, his features as serene as ever. He stirred, murmuring my name in his sleep. “Seraphina… don’t go.” He had been good to me, in his way. He and the Jade Hare had never crossed a definitive line; he never stayed the night with her. But I knew him better than anyone, and I saw the affection he himself hadn’t yet recognized. The way his brow furrowed when she cried, the slight upturn of his lips when she was near, the way his hand would reach out, as if in longing, when her dress brushed past him. I didn’t understand. How could years of shared love be worth less than a chance encounter? Less than the scenery of a mountain, less than a new infatuation, less than three days at the foot of a mountain? He and my father—one had betrayed with his body, the other with his heart. My mother and I were done waiting. I smiled and pushed his hand away. My silhouette in the mirror merged with my mother’s. We spoke the same words. “In a place without love, why linger?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393343”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

A massive snakeskin appeared in the building’s hallway. I immediately posted in the residents’ group chat, warning my neighbors to be careful. “Lock your doors and windows! A snake can swallow something several times its size. This one is huge, and after shedding, it will be hungry and hunting!” My neighbors were dismissive, mocking my paranoia. The building manager quickly followed up: “There are no snakes in this building. We ask certain residents to refrain from fear-mongering.” Hiss. Then what was that sound, slithering in the hallway right now? 1. I grew up with my grandfather in the mountains, so I knew a snakeskin when I saw one. When the cleaning crew found it, everyone else thought it was a prank, a cheap rubber prop. How could a real snake get into a luxury high-rise like this? But I could tell. This was a fresh shed. The snake that left it behind was now even bigger. I had to warn them again. “Lock your doors and windows! A snake can swallow something several times its size. This one is huge, and after shedding, it will be hungry and hunting!” The response was a wave of ridicule. We were in the heart of the city, miles from any real wilderness. If there was a giant snake on the loose, someone would have seen it by now. Mom_from_606: “908, stop being so dramatic, you’re scaring people! This is a luxury apartment building, not a shack in the woods. Where would a snake even come from?” She had a point, but what if someone was keeping it as a pet? It wasn’t unheard of. I typed again, unable to let it go. Me (908): “Maybe it’s someone’s pet. Just please be careful.” The chat flooded with snake emojis. No one was taking me seriously. Only the resident in 707 seemed to show a flicker of concern. Resident_707: “If someone was keeping a snake that big, don’t you think its owner would have been eaten by now?” That quieted the chat for a moment. The building manager stepped in with a placating, yet passive-aggressive tone. BuildingManager: “There are no snakes in this building. We ask certain residents to refrain from fear-mongering.” Just then, my food delivery arrived. I went to the door to grab it. A blood-curdling scream echoed from the hallway, followed by silence. I tried calling the delivery guy. The call wouldn’t go through. A primal fear rooted me to the spot. I crept to the peephole. A moment later, I saw a single foot being slowly, unnaturally dragged out of my line of sight. I pressed my ear against the door, my heart pounding. Over the frantic beating in my chest, I heard a clear, distinct sound. Hiss. No snakes? Then what was in my hallway? 2. The delivery guy was probably gone. Whatever was out there had taken down a grown man in seconds. This snake wasn’t just big; it had to be venomous. I immediately called Animal Control, then frantically typed in the group chat: Me (908): “DO NOT LEAVE YOUR APARTMENTS! Something happened to the delivery guy. Wait for the professionals to arrive!” Mike_1008: “Is this some new kind of prank? Maybe the delivery guy is just messing with you.” Resident_707: “I can’t stay in, I have a package to pick up.” Mom_from_606: “I have to take my baby out for his daily walk in the sun!” You can lead a horse to water… Fine. Let them be idiots. I couldn’t save people who didn’t want to be saved. They would have to face the consequences themselves. All I could do was lock my doors and windows and wait. Then, a horrifying thought struck me. My best friend, Beth, was supposed to come over in two hours. I quickly started a video call to tell her to stay away. She answered with a huge grin. “Surprise! I’m already in your lobby! Aren’t you going to come down and greet me?” “Don’t come up! Get out of the building! There’s a snake!” The video feed froze. From the background, I could see she was already in the elevator. The signal had dropped. If she just stayed in the elevator and went back down, she’d be fine. I sent her a flurry of texts, praying she wouldn’t step out. At the same time, the once-jovial group chat exploded. The building manager posted a grainy screenshot from a security camera. A massive, shadowy serpent was slithering through the halls. Their nonchalant attitude vanished in an instant. An official notice went out telling everyone to remain in their apartments. They started demanding to know if anyone was keeping a pet snake. The chat filled with accusations and panic, but no one confessed. If this snake was wild, it would be even more aggressive. I could only hope the professionals would get here in time. My phone buzzed. A new message from Beth. “Almost on the ninth floor! Come out and help me with my bags!” My warning had arrived too late. She hadn’t seen it. Her chat bubble showed she was typing… Then, a frantic knocking echoed from my front door. Was it her? 3. “Beth, is that you?” I yelled, inching toward the door. No answer. Just more knocking, louder and more desperate now, as if something was chasing the person on the other side. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Beth. “Oh my god, Shawna!” she gasped, out of breath. “I heard your voicemail just as the doors opened! I slammed the button and got the hell out of there!” If Beth was out of the building, then who was at my door? My stomach churning, I crept back to the peephole. It was the young woman who lived across the hall. Her lips were blue, her eyes darting around in terror. We exchanged pleasantries sometimes; she seemed nice enough. She’d been texting in the group chat just a few minutes ago. What was she doing out here? “Help me!” she screamed, her voice cracking. She started pounding on my door with her fists, the sound booming through the hallway. “I locked my keys inside!” Her cries were so pitiful, so desperate. My heart went out to her. My hand was on the deadbolt when I heard her whisper to someone else, her voice trembling. “Don’t bite me… I’ll find you more food… I promise…” Then a terrified shriek. “No!” Hiss. Silence. I didn’t have the courage to look through the peephole again. I could imagine the gruesome scene all too well. When the initial wave of terror subsided, a cold realization washed over me. The girl across the hall… she was trying to feed me to the snake to save herself. If I had opened that door, I would be dead. Another victim in the serpent’s path. But wait. The snake had already taken the delivery guy. Why was it still hunting? Unless… there was more than one. 4. I relayed what happened to the building manager, telling them to check the cameras and pinpoint the snake’s location. The group chat was in chaos, residents demanding action. But the management was useless. They claimed the situation was too dangerous to send anyone in; we just had to wait for the professionals. Then came another update. The snake that had been on camera had vanished. They had searched every feed and couldn’t find a trace of it. Someone offered a wild theory: “What if this thing is supernatural? It knows how to avoid cameras.” The chat descended further into panic. [Unknown User]: “Is someone in this building raising this thing? It seems to know the layout of every floor so well.” I suspected the same thing. Someone was hiding it. Suddenly, the Mom from 606 turned on me. Mom_from_606: “Maybe it’s 908! The thief crying ‘thief’!” After everything I did to warn them, this was the thanks I got. I decided to stay quiet. A moment later, the manager posted a photo of the first snakeskin again, asking everyone to confirm it wasn’t from their pet. I zoomed in on the image. At first glance, it looked the same. But the patterns… they were completely different. My theory was correct. There wasn’t just one snake. And the snake that shed this second skin was even bigger. I was still debating whether to say anything when a new message popped up from the manager. The snake had been caught. They attached a video of a small python being wrangled by a man in uniform. It was obvious the snake in the video was far too small to have shed either of the massive skins. But the residents didn’t care. They were just relieved. The chat filled with thumbs-up emojis, praising the management for their efficiency. I didn’t know what to do. I still had to live here. If I exposed their lie, they would make my life hell. More importantly, I had already decided to stop getting involved. But my conscience won. I laid out my reasoning for them all to see. The manager was the first to attack, calling my claims nonsense and insisting the snake was caught. The property manager himself called me directly, and the moment I answered, he unleashed a torrent of abuse, even threatening me. “You residents are nothing but trouble! I’m warning you, if you want to keep living here peacefully, you’ll shut your mouth!” I recorded the entire call. Just in case. The group chat split into two factions. One side believed me and urged caution. The other trusted the management and was already preparing to go about their day. I messaged Beth, telling her to go home and not to linger around the building. She loved drama, and I was terrified she’d get too close and get bitten. But she hadn’t replied since she sent me an emoji twenty minutes ago. I remembered my balcony overlooked the front of the building. I rushed over and peered down. She wasn’t there. Maybe she’d gone home? Then my eyes caught something. A massive, scaled tail, dangling from the balcony of a unit below me. And the sliding glass door to that apartment was wide open. 5. I snapped a photo and posted it in the group chat, warning the residents on the floor below. The Mom from 606 exploded. She recognized the baby bib hanging on the balcony railing. It was hers. A stream of frantic voice messages flooded the chat. “That’s my apartment! Someone help my baby!” “My mother-in-law and my son are the only ones home! Why didn’t she close the window?!” The chat went silent. Everyone knew that responding meant getting involved. No one was willing to take that risk. The Mom tagged the building manager over and over, but they had gone silent again. I couldn’t stand it. I messaged her privately, telling her to call home immediately and tell her mother-in-law to hide somewhere safe until the snake left on its own. Ten minutes later, she sent me a friend request. Then she started spamming me with video calls. I didn’t answer. In a situation like this, it was every man for himself. I didn’t want to get dragged any deeper into this mess. She then took to the public chat, demanding I help. Mom_from_606: “908, why are you ignoring me? Just go check on my son and mother-in-law. Bring them to your apartment where it’s safe!” Are you kidding me? Even if the snake wasn’t in the hallway, there was no guarantee it wasn’t still in her apartment. Going there would be a suicide mission. The best thing to do was wait. I had already done more than enough by warning her. I steeled myself and ignored her. Mom_from_606: “@Shawna_908, why aren’t you answering my calls? Are you just going to let them die?” Sensing a new target for their fear, other residents chimed in, criticizing me. [User]: “Yeah, you saw it, you have to help!” [User]: “We’re all neighbors here. Help them out! She’s a single mom with a baby, don’t be so selfish, 908!” The hypocrisy was staggering. A minute ago, they were all playing dumb. Now they were saints. I was furious. I fired back: Me (908): “Anyone who just typed, why don’t YOU go? I warned everyone multiple times to lock their doors and stay inside. They didn’t listen, and now it’s my fault? @Resident_608, you’re right next door. @Resident_605, you’re across the hall. It’s an easy trip for you. GO!” The conversation shifted instantly. The resident in 608 claimed they weren’t home. The one in 605 quickly agreed with my original point. The Mom was still frantic. Her latest private message was a desperate plea. “Please, my baby isn’t even a year old. Please help me!” She forwarded a video her mother-in-law had just sent her. The baby was wailing, his face red and scrunched up. The grandmother paced back and forth on the hardwood floor, trying to soothe him. I quickly told her to have her mother-in-law stop moving. Snakes are sensitive to vibrations. She thanked me profusely, then sent a dozen more video clips, repeatedly asking if I could see the snake. Then she suggested her mother-in-law add me on a video call so I could “keep an eye on the baby” for her. The audacity of some people. I refused, telling her to contact management and Animal Control if she was that worried. Speaking of which, where were they? It had been over twenty minutes. Suddenly, a new message from the Mom. “My mother-in-law was bitten! Go save her!” How? I had scoured the video she sent. The room was clear. A tearful voice note followed. “My mother-in-law said the baby wouldn’t stop crying… I thought it would be safer for them to come to your apartment than stay in there with the snake… so I told her to make a run for it. She was bitten as soon as she opened the door.” If it weren’t for the innocent child, I would have blocked her. She basically sent her own mother-in-law to her death. “She’s still breathing! She managed to crawl back inside with the baby. Please, go save her! You know about snakes, you must know how to treat a bite, right?” I’m not a doctor. Her only hope was an ambulance. Her crying intensified. “The city marathon is today! All the roads are blocked. An ambulance can’t get through! Not even a fly could get down our street.” So that’s why no one had arrived. The marathon. But why today of all days? She then sent me a screenshot from a video call. In the blurry image, I could see the shadowy form of a massive snake. I was right. And next to the snake, just for a split second, I saw a pair of sneakers. 6. I had a strong, chilling premonition. This snake wasn’t just a pet. It was being controlled. The attacks were deliberate. The grandmother in 606 was hovering between life and death, and the Mom was having a complete breakdown in the group chat. Finally, the management responded: BuildingManager: “Resident in 606, please remain calm. We are dispatching personnel to check on the situation immediately.” Strangely, a few moments later, it was my door that started knocking. I peered through the peephole but saw no one. Yet the knocking continued, rhythmic and persistent. Then it stopped. I heard it again. The soft, dry, slithering sound of a snake. Hiss. Was the snake… knocking on my door? How could it knock with such a perfect rhythm? As I was trying to wrap my head around the impossibility of it all, the management sent another update. BuildingManager: “We have confirmed the presence of two large pythons in the building. One has now been successfully captured. The resident of 606 is being transported to the hospital. We have brought in professional snake handlers who will be conducting a door-to-door search. Please cooperate and open your doors when they arrive.” They even attached a photo of a captured snake. Suddenly, the incompetent, ghosting management team was a model of efficiency. The group chat erupted with praise. But I noticed something odd. The few residents who had been actively speaking up just a moment ago had gone completely silent. My phone rang. It was Beth. The moment I answered, the knocking at my door started again, faster and more urgent this time. I was certain it was a person. A wave of relief washed over me. A man’s voice called out, impatient and gruff. “Open up! Building management! We’re here for the snake!” My hand was on the doorknob when Beth’s voice screamed through the phone. “SHAWNA, DON’T OPEN THE DOOR!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393364”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 My wife of three years, in a marriage that had been sexless from the start, was pregnant. And she wanted the world to know. She’d made a thousand copies of the ultrasound report, announcing to anyone and everyone that she was carrying another man’s child. I heard she and her friends were even placing bets, wagering on how spectacularly I would lose my mind. “Remember how Christopher begged to marry you? He knelt before your mother for hours, right there on the street for all to see.” “He’s going to go absolutely ballistic when he finds out you’re pregnant.” Clarissa’s face twisted in disgust at the memory. “We don’t even have a marriage license. What kind of husband is he? He’s nothing but a dog who knows how to grovel at my mother’s feet. If it weren’t for him, I would have been free years ago!” Fearing I might retaliate against the child’s real father, she had her security detail break my leg. Then they threw me in the cellar and left me there for seven days and seven nights. By the time they let me out, she was already in another country, getting married to someone else. This time, I didn’t fight. I calmly called her mother. “Mrs. Sterling,” I said, my voice hollow. “The five-year pact… I’ve lost. I’ll keep my promise. I’ll disappear forever.” Two freshly printed marriage certificates slapped down on the table in front of me. “Caleb and I are legally married now,” Clarissa said, her voice dripping with venom. “All that’s left is the ceremony. You’ve clung to me for three years. Isn’t that enough?” My eyes stung, transfixed by the smiling photo of them on the official paper. Clarissa and I had a wedding, a grand affair, but she’d refused to ever make it legal. Seeing my stunned silence, a triumphant smirk played on her lips. “I’ve already moved Caleb in. And just so we’re clear, I married him because I’m carrying his child.” Her gaze dropped to my right leg. “If you have a shred of dignity left, you’ll make things clear to my mother. But if you keep harassing me,” she added, her voice turning to ice, “I won’t hesitate to have your other leg broken.” My injured leg, left untreated for seven days, had gone from searing agony to a dead, heavy numbness. “Fine,” I managed to choke out, closing my eyes. She hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. A flicker of surprise crossed her face. “I’ll move into the guest room,” I said, my voice flat. “He’s the father. It’s only right he stays in the master bedroom to take care of you.” I meant every word. A week ago, when she’d paraded her pregnancy, making sure everyone knew the child wasn’t mine, she’d turned me into a city-wide joke. Three years. Three years, and I still couldn’t melt the ice around her heart. “And don’t worry,” I added. “I’ll handle your mother. I won’t bother you again.” Clarissa’s brow furrowed in suspicion, but her expression quickly returned to its usual coldness. “Don’t even think about pulling any tricks. I’ve given the staff a vacation, so you won’t be moving into the guest room.” She paused, a cruel smile spreading across her face. “I’m pregnant. I need someone to look after me. From now on, you’re on call, 24/7.” She said it so matter-of-factly, as if savoring some twisted new game, waiting to see me break. I opened my mouth, but in the end, all I could manage was a slight nod. The game seemingly bored her already. She glanced at my leg and called for the family doctor. When he saw the state of my leg, his face went pale. Without treatment, the wound had begun to rot. The men Clarissa had sent hadn’t just broken it; they’d tortured me, driving nails through the bone just for the fun of it. The doctor’s expression was grave. “Mr. Hayes, this injury needs immediate hospital attention. If it’s as bad as it looks, it may require amputation.” My fist clenched at my side, knuckles white. Clarissa, however, just scoffed. “He’s a grown man. A little scratch and you’re talking about amputation? At that rate, no one would survive.” She let out a derisive laugh and turned back to her room. “Don’t think this will make me pity you,” she called over her shoulder. “Even if you died, I would never forgive you.” 2 The bedroom door wasn’t fully closed. Caleb was in there with her. Soon, the sounds of their laughter, followed by the soft, wet sounds of kisses, drifted into the hall. The pity in the doctor’s eyes was a physical blow, sending a chill through my entire body. I forced myself to stand, trying to block out the noises, but they only seemed to grow louder, echoing in my head. I didn’t snap out of it until Mrs. Sterling arrived. She took one look at my leg, and her face darkened into a thundercloud. Her gaze shot to the half-open bedroom door, and she moved as if to storm in and confront Clarissa. I reached out and stopped her. “Mrs. Sterling,” I said, my voice raspy. “The pact we made three years ago. I concede.” “You were right. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t win her over.” “Once the contract is terminated, I’ll leave. I will never come back.” Mrs. Sterling, a woman I had only ever known as formidable and unyielding, looked at me with an uncharacteristic flicker of sympathy. Her voice softened. “Are you sure, Christopher? The five years aren’t up yet. If you give up now, you’ll have absolutely nothing.” “Think about it,” she urged. “I’ll give you a week. Come see me then to sign the termination papers.” I said nothing. She was right. To marry Clarissa, I had swallowed every last ounce of my pride. I had begged, pleaded, and in the end, I had signed over my entire inheritance—everything my parents had left me—to the Sterling family. Just then, Clarissa must have realized someone was there. She and Caleb emerged, their clothes hastily straightened. Her face went rigid when she saw her mother. “Mom? What are you doing here?” Caleb stood beside her, a picture of obedience. “Hello, Mom,” he chirped. Mrs. Sterling let out a cold laugh, her eyes fixed on her daughter. “And where do you keep Christopher? He grew up with you, Clarissa. Have you forgotten everything his parents did for us? Do you have no respect for their memory?” Clarissa’s pale face flushed a deep, angry red. She shot me a look of pure hatred. “Mom, he called you, didn’t he? I knew he was up to something!” She turned on me. “Christopher, I can’t believe how shameless you are. You were the one who begged to marry me. I never once said I loved you. You’re the one who trapped me, who destroyed my freedom!” She defiantly grabbed Caleb’s hand, lifting her chin. “I’m pregnant, and that’s a fact. If you want to stay in my life, you’d better get used to playing the part of the cuckolded husband!” The insolence in her voice made Mrs. Sterling tremble with rage. She raised her hand and slapped Clarissa hard across the face. “One day,” she seethed, “you will regret this.” It was the first time in all these years she had ever taken my side. Before, she only had eyes for the business empire my parents had built, never caring about the war between Clarissa and me. Caleb rushed to Clarissa’s side, his face a mask of concern. “Ma’am, I know you look down on me now, but one day you’ll see how much I truly love Clarissa!” Mrs. Sterling laughed, a sharp, mocking sound. “Your love? Can it compare to what Christopher gave up? All you do is spend our family’s money!” Humiliated, Caleb lowered his head. After her mother left, Clarissa unleashed all her pent-up fury on me. “Don’t think for a second that just because my mother is on your side, you’ve won. I will never, ever look at you again. Get that through your head!” She grabbed Caleb’s arm. “Let’s go, Caleb. The air in here makes me sick.” As she stormed past, she deliberately slammed her shoulder into mine. I watched her go, and for a moment, the girl I remembered from our childhood grew hazy, almost disappearing completely. We’d known each other for over twenty years. The girl who used to follow me everywhere was gone. Now, whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was the scene from three years ago. Me, on my knees, begging her mother to let me marry her. And Clarissa, bursting into my house late that night after she found out, her voice raw with grief and rage as she screamed at me, asking why. 3 “Your parents aren’t even in the ground yet, and you’re already thinking about marrying me? How can you be so vile, so depraved?” “I have a boyfriend, Christopher! Why are you and my mother deciding my future for me? What gives you the right?” It was the first time I truly understood how little I meant to her. How despicable I was in her eyes. The very next day, Clarissa’s boyfriend broke up with her and vanished without a trace. She blamed me for all of it. She walked through our wedding ceremony like a ghost, her heart filled with nothing but resentment. And it was then that her mother took me aside. “Christopher,” she’d said, her tone all business. “We have our agreement, but you and Clarissa cannot be legally married.” “She’s right about one thing. As you are now, you are not worthy of her.” After my parents died, I had no power, no status. I was nothing compared to the soaring fortunes of the Sterling family. I let out a long, slow breath. Maybe my decision was wrong from the very beginning. After that day, Clarissa stopped coming home. Caleb, however, made his presence felt, sending me messages designed to torment me. [Mr. Hayes, this is my first time being a father. I was hoping I could ask you for some advice.] [You’re so much older than me. You must have more experience with these things, right?] The constant, smug provocations grated on my last nerve. I couldn’t sleep with her, couldn’t even touch her. For three years, we slept in the same bed with a wooden plank between us. If I accidentally brushed against her, she’d act so disgusted she’d nearly vomit, scrubbing herself raw in the shower as if to flay my touch from her skin. The incessant buzzing of my phone finally broke me. I picked it up and called him. “Is your phone just for show, or did you forget how to use it to look up information? Did Clarissa not tell you we’ve never been intimate? Or are you just texting me to gloat? Because if you are, you’ve got the wrong guy. Clarissa and I are finished. I sincerely wish you both the best—” It wasn’t Caleb’s voice that answered, but Clarissa’s, sharp and full of derision. “Christopher, do you really think I’d fall for your pathetic act again? The moment I’m out the door, you call my mother to come and fight your battles.” “I’m so glad I had your leg broken,” she spat. “God knows what you would have done to Caleb otherwise.” She hung up, the dial tone buzzing in my ear. My hand, clutching the phone, tightened until my knuckles were white, then fell open, limp and powerless. When I made that pact with her mother three years ago, I should have known I would lose. I just never imagined I would lose this badly. I had planned to just wait quietly until it was time for me to leave. But the next day, Clarissa and Caleb stormed back into the house. Her eyes were bloodshot and her clothes were disheveled, as if she’d been in a fight. Her gaze, when it landed on me, was filled with a murderous rage. Before I could react, Caleb threw himself to his knees in front of me. “Mr. Hayes, I know you’re angry with me. If my messages upset you, I apologize. I was wrong.” “But you can’t convince Mrs. Sterling to make Clarissa get an abortion! That baby is a miracle for us. We’ve wanted it for so long.” My head swam. I opened my mouth to defend myself, to say I’d done no such thing. The next second, a searing pain exploded across my cheek. Clarissa slapped me again and again, so hard her own palm was red and trembling by her side. She snatched a pair of scissors from the table and pointed them at me, her voice a hysterical shriek. “You make me sick, Christopher! You disgust me!” “Three years ago, you forced me to marry you against my will! And now you want to kill my child? What kind of poison have you been feeding my mother?” I touched my burning cheek, my lips moving, but the words wouldn’t come. “I didn’t…” 4 Clarissa wasn’t listening. She had lost all reason. She lunged, plunging the scissors deep into my shoulder. Blood bloomed across my shirt, staining her hands crimson. She seemed to freeze, shocked that I hadn’t moved, hadn’t even tried to defend myself. When sanity finally returned to her eyes, the scissors slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor. She stumbled back a step, and Caleb quickly steadied her. Wiping tears from her face, she stared at me, her voice breaking. “Christopher, just stop loving me, please. Let me go.” “I’m going to show you,” she whispered, her voice gaining a feverish strength. “I’m going to show you how happy Caleb and I can be.” She left, leaning on him for support. All the physical pain vanished, eclipsed by the agony of her words. They were like the scissors, twisting deeper and deeper with every beat of my heart. The “happiness” Clarissa spoke of was a multi-million-dollar campaign to launch Caleb into the public eye. She bought reporters and media outlets, plastering their perfect love story across every screen and billboard in the city. She paraded him around like a prized possession she had kept hidden for too long. She threw a lavish party at the house, introducing Caleb to all her major business partners and investors. These were things she had never, not once, done for me. Through it all, I remained calm, simply counting down the days. The week Mrs. Sterling had given me was up today. After this, Clarissa and I would likely never see each other again. “You’ve got some nerve, Christopher,” Clarissa’s voice cut through my thoughts. “You know this party is for Caleb, yet you’re still shamelessly hanging around.” She strode toward me, Caleb and a few of her friends trailing behind her like a royal court. A wave of mocking laughter erupted. “Clarissa, honey, when you have a leech that just won’t let go, sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind and just rip it off.” “What is he now, anyway? The third wheel?” “You know, the Hayes family used to be one of the biggest names in this city. Such a shame what happened. All of them gone, except for him. No wonder he’s so desperate to cling to you.” The words seemed to grate on Clarissa. She shot me a look of pure loathing, as if my very presence was a stain on her reputation. She ordered her security to throw all of my belongings out onto the lawn. Then, in front of everyone, she made her grand proclamation. “Three years ago, Christopher Hayes, a man with no shame and no dignity, begged me to be with him. He tore me away from the love of my life, and now he’s trying to kill my child.” “From this day forward, I, Clarissa Sterling, have nothing to do with Christopher Hayes. The Sterling family and the Hayes family are finished!” Her powerful voice hammered into me, and for a moment, my thoughts seized. I leaned against the wall for support, the hand behind my back trembling uncontrollably. Compared to the dazzling star she was now, I truly was nothing. I wasn’t worthy of her. Seeing my silence, Clarissa’s expression softened as she turned and took Caleb’s hand. “I’ve decided Caleb and I are getting married, a real wedding this time, in twenty-two different countries—”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393381”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I flew back to the States for my adopted daughter’s wedding, the suit already picked out and waiting. But a former high school classmate recognized me and pointed, his voice loud with ridicule. “Well, if it isn’t our class copycat. In high school, you wore whatever Adrian Prescott wore. Can’t break the habit, can you? Look at you, wearing a suit just like his. Do you even know what kind of event this is?” Adrian offered a phony apology, but his eyes were laced with venom. “Sorry, Victor. I put up with you mimicking my style back then, but today is my wedding day. I’m really not in the mood to indulge your little copycat routine anymore.” He egged on his cronies, who then proceeded to try and strip me naked in front of everyone. I tried to fight back, but he slapped me so hard I hit the floor. Staring at his face, alight with vicious excitement, I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a cold, silent laugh. I’d tolerated it when he copied me, then twisted the truth to accuse me of being the mimic. But this time? This time, I was his future father-in-law. And if I let him marry into my family after this, then I’ve already lost. 1 The moment my plane landed, I rushed to the hotel to change into the suit the household staff had prepared for me—the suit for the father of the bride. Today was my adopted daughter’s wedding. I say “adopted daughter,” but in reality, I’m only three years older than her. My seniority in the family is high. When Alexa’s parents passed away, she was brought into our family. The Vaughn family rules are strict, and after tracing the lines of the family tree, it turned out I was the only one exactly one generation above her. And so, at a young age, I became a father, with her placed under my legal guardianship. Because we were so close in age, we got along well. I took my paternal duties seriously, as laid out by the family charter, and managed to temper her wild, fearless, and somewhat spoiled nature into something more composed. Who would have thought that the tomboyish ‘princess’ of the city would now be getting married? I looked down at the exquisitely embroidered tuxedo and grimaced. At least the cut was modern. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been caught dead in it. The staff took my clothes to be laundered, and I was left alone to fix my hair. I glanced up and saw him—Adrian Prescott, my old high school classmate, basking in the glow of a fawning entourage. Their chirpy laughter was laced with flattery. Adrian soaked it all in, his smile growing wider with every compliment. But when his gaze landed on my suit, his expression instantly darkened. I felt a prickle of unease. My tuxedo was eerily similar to his, clearly the same custom design. “Well, well, who do we have here? It’s the wannabe. Still addicted to copying Adrian, huh?” “He’s too nice to call you out on it, but we’re not going to let it slide!” Many of them were old classmates. Their eyes darted to my suit, their faces twisting in contempt. One of Adrian’s closest friends pinched his nose, looking at me as if I were something foul. “Adrian’s suit was custom-made by a top designer, a gift from the princess herself. You think your cheap knockoff can compare?” “Today is Adrian’s wedding to the city’s darling, Alexa Vaughn. Were you even invited? Or did you just slither in here, dressed like that, trying to seduce someone?” My god. My own daughter was marrying Adrian Prescott. A wave of disgust washed over me. Back in high school, he was the one who copied my style, then used his popularity to flip the script and accuse me of being the mimic. I couldn’t be bothered to argue back then, more focused on my portfolio for studying abroad than on pointless drama. But the rumors festered, and I spent all of high school isolated and bullied. As much as I disliked him, he was the man Alexa loved. I had to show some decorum. I decided to just wait for their taunts to die down and then slip away. I’d get through the wedding and go home. But Adrian blocked my path, stepping hard on the toe of my shoe. A sharp pain shot up my leg. He feigned surprise and moved his foot, his face a mask of innocence. “Look, Victor, today is my big day. Just take off the suit, okay? Don’t try to upstage me by wearing the same thing.” “After today, you can copy me all you want. I won’t mind a little thing like that.” 2 I stared at him, incredulous. This was a father-of-the-bride tuxedo. It was understated and formal, just a bit more modern than the usual fare. It was nothing like Adrian’s flashy groom’s tuxedo. Besides, his face was a work of art, sculpted by a celebrity makeup artist. He was clearly the center of attention. How could I possibly upstage him? I frowned, not wanting to waste my breath. “This is the father-of-the-bride’s suit. It would be inappropriate to take it off.” I tried to walk away, but in the next second, Adrian grabbed my arm. His eyes were red-rimmed as he began to tear at my clothes. “You all heard him! He admitted it’s a formal suit! He’s doing this on purpose!” he cried out. “Normally, I’d let it go, but this is my wedding day! How can I be expected to tolerate this humiliation?” As he ripped at my collar, he deliberately dug his sharp nails into my neck. Blood welled instantly, and I cried out in pain. Seeing the blood, his eyes grew even redder. He pushed me back into the crowd, shaking his head in feigned panic. “I didn’t mean to! It’s your fault for wearing this suit!” “My fiancée had this made for me! It’s deeply meaningful, and I won’t let anyone defile it!” He looked so heartbroken that his pack of sycophants swelled with righteous anger. His groomsmen immediately grabbed my arms, pinning me as they continued to rip at my collar, their eyes glinting with malice. “Adrian, don’t dirty your hands on this trash. This animal probably only owns two nice things. Touching him will just bring you bad luck.” “Let’s strip this bastard and see what kind of cheap crap he’s really wearing. How dare he copy you?” “Someone strong, come help! The little bitch is trying to fight back!” Before I could react, an arm snaked around my neck, choking me until the world started to go black. My limbs went weak, and no matter how I struggled, I couldn’t fight off the countless hands clawing at me. Tears of pure physical pain streamed from my eyes. “I’m… I’m Alexa’s father, agh—” Before I could finish, a fresh gash appeared on my mouth. The mob’s insults drowned out my words as they tore the suit from my body, leaving me curled on the cold floor, covered in wounds. They presented the tattered remains of my suit to Adrian like a trophy. He didn’t even glance at it. His eyes were locked on me. One of the guys holding me down saw I was still trying to speak and slapped me hard across the face. My cheek swelled instantly, a fiery pain shooting through my skull. Before I could recover, another slap landed on the other side. “There,” a voice sneered in my ear. “Made you symmetrical. You should thank me.” The room spun. Through the haze, I heard Adrian’s fake sobs. “Thank you, everyone. I’m so sorry you had to deal with this filth on such a happy day. It’s my fault for being too lenient with him in the past.” “He’s an old classmate, after all. With all those scars, what woman would ever want him? Not like me. I’m about to marry into the Vaughn family. I’ll be set for life.” He then picked up a nearby bottle of Macallan and, raising it high, poured it all over me. “Might as well use this. A little alcohol to disinfect Victor’s wounds.” He saw me gasp in agony and his eyes curved into a sickeningly sweet smile. “Don’t worry,” he said, feigning thoughtfulness. “I know this is too expensive for you to ever drink, but it’s my wedding. I can do whatever I want with it.” The autumn air was cool. Stripped to my underwear, I shivered violently, hugging myself like a fish left to die on the sand. The crowd, seeing this, seemed to take it as encouragement. They started grabbing bottles from the tables. “Great idea, Adrian! Let me try! I wonder how well this ‘82 Lafite disinfects.” Red wine streamed down my face, mixing with the blood from my cuts, a disgusting cocktail that dripped from my chin. “Hey, don’t you dare lick any of that. It’s mixed with your blood. How gross.” Their eyes were filled with malice and disgust. They laughed and joked, studying my pained expressions and describing them in detail for Adrian’s amusement. I couldn’t speak. Opening my mouth only earned me another slap. The alcohol on my open wounds felt like being rolled over hot steel. The pain was so intense it was becoming numb. I tried to stand, to escape this hell, but I just kept collapsing pathetically to the floor, triggering roars of laughter. “Trying to run? Not so fast. We gave you a chance earlier. You blew it.” He loomed over me, grinding the sole of his leather shoe into my fingers, listening with satisfaction to my weak whimpers of pain. Suddenly, someone hissed, “Isabelle’s here!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393398”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the way to finalize our divorce, Liam and I were hit by a truck. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard him whisper, “If I could do it all over, I would’ve said yes when Ashley confessed her love.” “To live a life full of passion with her… that’s the life I’ve always wanted.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our engagement party. Just like last time, Ashley stood there, holding a bouquet, asking Liam if he would choose her. Without a single glance at me, Liam took the ring and knelt before Ashley. “Ashley, I love you. Will you marry me?” I knew then that he had been reborn, too. So, I let them have their moment. He got his wish, a life of freedom and passion with Ashley. But later, he came crawling back, kneeling before me, begging through tears for me to marry him again. 1 Ashley was stunned by the sudden turn of events. When Liam asked again, tears of joy streamed down her face. “Yes, I will!” They embraced tightly, completely oblivious to the icy tension that had gripped the room. All eyes were on me. I took off my veil, tossed it aside, and watched the deeply in love couple with a cold, detached gaze. Liam led Ashley onto the stage and took the microphone. “Today was supposed to be my engagement party,” he announced. “But standing up here, I’ve realized that the person I truly love is Ashley.” “I’ve let her slip through my fingers too many times. This time, I won’t make the same mistake. I want to spend the rest of my life with her!” No one in the room applauded their whirlwind romance. Liam finally looked at me, his voice devoid of all emotion. “I wasn’t thinking clearly before. If you want compensation, I can give you five hundred thousand. I hope you’ll stay out of my life from now on.” His eyes were cold and numb, a reflection of the twenty years of marriage that had worn him down in our past life. But when he looked at Ashley, his eyes burned with the same passion he’d had in his twenties. We had dated for three years before deciding to get engaged. The moment I said yes, he had announced it to everyone we knew. We were showered with blessings from all sides, with one exception: Ashley. She was his junior in college and had fallen for him at first sight. She orchestrated “chance” encounters all over campus, and after graduation, she found ways to stay close to him. Whenever she saw me, she’d flash a bright, provocative smile. “You’re not married yet,” she’d say. “I’m not giving up. I’ll make him see that life has more than one path!” I was always unsettled by her presence, but Liam would just pull me into his arms and coldly reject her. In our past life, to prove his unwavering commitment to me, he had rushed to hold the engagement party right after proposing. Ashley had shown up at that party, too, wearing a stunning wedding gown. She looked beautiful yet fragile, her gaze fixed stubbornly on Liam. “Liam,” she had declared, “this is the last time I’ll confess my feelings to you. If you reject me again, I will disappear from your world forever!” In that life, Liam had taken my hand, knelt, and placed the ring on my finger, his actions a silent, final rejection of Ashley. But this time, he took Ashley’s hand and confessed his love to her in front of everyone. As the room remained frozen in a stunned silence, I simply took a step back and let them steal my spotlight. Only after their passionate declarations were over did I speak, my voice calm and even. “I wish you both the best. Liam, I hope we never see each other again.” 2 Liam flinched, clearly surprised by how easily I had let go. Ashley, on the other hand, let out a squeal of delight, planting several kisses on his lips before finally turning to me. “Sarah, I told you he would choose me!” I gave her a half-hearted nod and turned to leave. As I stepped off the stage, I stumbled. A cool hand steadied me. “Miss Paltrow,” a smooth voice said, “perhaps it’s time you started looking at other people.” I looked up at the man holding my arm—Adrian Stanton. A small smile touched my lips. I recognized his face from countless financial news segments in my past life. I just never expected to see him at my own disastrous engagement party. “Like who?” I asked. A smile spread across Adrian’s face, his dark eyes reflecting only me. He pressed a slip of paper into my palm. “My number. Call me when you have a moment.” I glanced at him, then gathered my skirt and headed for the dressing room. My parents and Liam’s parents followed me, their faces grim. Liam’s parents offered a forced, apologetic smile. “Sarah, our son has been so foolish. But what’s done is done. We want to compensate you. Just tell us what you need, and we’ll make it happen.” My mother rolled her eyes. “Who cares about your…” I quickly grabbed her hand, cutting her off. Then, with a bright smile, I said, “Auntie, in that case, how about you give me that plot of land in the North District?” Right now, that piece of land was practically worthless. But in a few years, its value would skyrocket. It was that very plot that had saved Liam’s family from bankruptcy in our past life. His parents drew up a contract on the spot. I beamed. After they left, my mother smacked my arm. “How can you be smiling after being publicly humiliated like that?” I pointed to the contract. “With this? How could I not be?” I truly was happy. In our past life, a series of bad decisions by Liam’s family had dragged my family’s business down with them into bankruptcy. The Stanton family was only saved by that single plot of land. I, on the other hand, had to pour every ounce of my energy into work just to salvage my family’s company. He had thrown tantrums more than once, complaining about how dull and boring our life was. Why couldn’t I just put work aside so we could see the world, have some fun? That’s when Ashley had reappeared. She had become a famous travel blogger, her location tag bouncing from one country to another. Liam was mesmerized by her videos. He started using “business trips” as an excuse to fly to Africa to watch the wildebeest migration with her. One was wild and free, the other yearned for that same freedom. It was inevitable that they would be drawn to each other. His “business trips” became more and more frequent. When I finally grew suspicious, I booked a seat on the same flight and discovered the truth. When I confronted him, the coldness in his eyes stopped me in my tracks. He said that being with me was like being trapped in stagnant water, utterly lifeless. Only with Ashley did he feel alive. Eventually, he hit rock bottom. “Let’s get a divorce,” he’d said. “You can have three-quarters of everything. You can have the kids. I just want my freedom.” “A person like you,” he’d sneered, “all you care about is money and profit. You’ll never understand the joy of a life without constraints.” He sounded like his eighteen-year-old self again, arrogant and reckless. But all I felt was a sense of ridicule. A life of passion and freedom was certainly appealing, but without a material foundation, it would ultimately lead to an empty void after the initial thrill wore off. Once he had had his fill of adventure, he would realize he had nothing to show for his life. For a long time after that, I heard nothing from Liam. I’d only catch glimpses of him when Ashley’s account popped up on my social media feed. It seemed he was truly living the life he’d always wanted. But I didn’t dwell on it. Because I, too, had found a new life and a new love, one who truly shared my ambitions. 3 I walked into the Stanton Corporation headquarters, holding a proposal for the North District development project. The elevator doors opened, and I found myself face-to-face with Liam. “Sarah Paltrow?” Behind him, Ashley looked up at me. They were both decked out in ski gear, a brand owned by Stanton Corp. I knew one of Adrian’s subsidiaries was looking for influencers to be brand ambassadors; I just hadn’t expected it to be them. I gave a curt nod in greeting and moved to step into the elevator. Liam blocked my path. “How did you know I’d be here?” “Sarah,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance, “I just got back in the country, and you’re already chasing me. Can’t you just leave me alone?” Ashley clung to Liam’s arm, her eyes full of smug satisfaction. “Sarah, you were so dramatic about leaving him. Why are you chasing him now? Liam and I are doing great. I heard things aren’t going so well for you, though?” “I heard the Paltrow family business is on the brink of collapse?” she asked, looking me up and down with the disdain one reserves for a failure. “Oh, Sarah, you’re so pathetic. Your family’s business is gone, you’re getting old, you’ve never even seen the world, and now Liam doesn’t love you anymore. Why don’t you come be our assistant? We could even pay you a little extra.” I looked at them as if they were a pair of fools. Had all that traveling knocked their brains loose? The Paltrow Corporation had been restructured and rebranded ages ago. The “Paltrow business” they were talking about was just a small subsidiary I’d left for my younger brother to practice on. “No, thank you,” I said calmly. “I’m doing just fine.” I tried to move past them to press the elevator button. But Ashley was relentless. She waved at the receptionist. “Does Stanton Corp just let anyone in? Does this woman even have an appointment?” The receptionist hurried over. “Miss Paltrow does have an…” Ashley cut her off. “So what if she has an appointment? I was personally invited here by Mr. Stanton himself. If you offend me, I’ll have him fire you!” Liam chuckled beside her. “Exactly. Besides, this ‘Miss Paltrow’ isn’t really here to see Mr. Stanton. She’s just trying to harass me. I can handle this for him.” He then pulled out an old photo of us from his wallet and showed it to the receptionist as if it were proof. “Sarah, you really went to great lengths to find me, even booking an appointment with Mr. Stanton. It’s pathetic,” he said. “If you have something to say, let’s take it outside. Don’t embarrass yourself here.” The receptionist’s gaze wavered. “Miss Paltrow, perhaps it would be best if you left.” I felt a knot of frustration tighten in my chest. I couldn’t believe how these two could so brazenly impose their own narrative on a situation and be so utterly self-righteous about it. I turned to the receptionist. “Please call Mr. Stanton’s secretary and authorize the private executive elevator for me.” She looked at me, hesitating. “Miss Paltrow, you only have an appointment with Mr. Stanton. The executive elevator is for… well, executives.” “Besides,” she added, her suspicion growing, “if you’re really just here to see Mr. Miller, you don’t actually need to see Mr. Stanton at all.” Ashley snorted. “Sarah, stop pretending. Your family is practically bankrupt. You have no business using the executive elevator.” The commotion was attracting attention from other clients waiting in the lobby. Their whispers were loud enough for us to hear. “Who does she think she is? Trying to use Mr. Stanton’s private elevator?” “Probably another gold digger. Even though Mr. Stanton is engaged, he still attracts them like flies.” The audience seemed to fuel Liam and Ashley’s performance. Their voices grew louder. “Sarah, I know we had a past, but can you please stop harassing me here? Even though I have a good relationship with Mr. Stanton, I can’t just let you cause a scene!” “There’s a coffee shop outside. Let’s talk there.” 4 I glanced at my watch. My meeting with Adrian was in a few minutes. I was starting to get anxious. “Liam, Ashley, I told you, my being here has nothing to do with you. Now, please move.” “Nothing to do with us?” Liam’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’ve been out of the country for months. I land today, and the moment I finish my photoshoot, you appear. You’re telling me this isn’t a calculated move?” “Sarah, you were the one who said you hoped we’d never see each other again. But the moment I’m back, you’re right here. You think I don’t know what you’re thinking?” A flicker of anger ignited within me. “Are you two done? If you are, then get out of my way!” “Sarah, darling, don’t get so flustered!” Ashley cooed. “We’re just trying to catch up. After all, Liam did choose me in the end.” “He still feels guilty about you. We’ve been so happy these past few years, so he worries about you sometimes.” I finally realized it. These two were living in a world of their own making. I stopped arguing and sat down on the sofa, pulling out my phone to call Adrian. “I’m being held up in your lobby,” I said. “The two people blocking my way claim to have a good relationship with you. You should probably come down.” I hung up before he could reply. Liam and Ashley exchanged a look and laughed. “Sarah, are you really calling Mr. Stanton?” I ignored her, focusing on my proposal. Ashley snatched the proposal from my hands, flipped through it dismissively, and then ripped it to shreds. “What’s this? A few pieces of paper? Do you have any idea who Mr. Stanton is? How dare you speak to him like that?” she sneered. “You probably just dialed a random number.” I watched as the proposal my team had worked on all night turned into confetti. A wave of frustration and rage washed over me. I slapped her, hard. “Ashley, have you gone through life without ever facing consequences for your actions?” She clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You hit me?” “Sarah! I was personally invited here by Mr. Stanton! Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” “I was going to put in a good word for you, maybe get you a meeting with him to save your precious family business.” Liam rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms to inspect the damage. “Sarah, you really don’t appreciate kindness, do you? Apologize to Ashley right now, and maybe she’ll still introduce you to Mr. Stanton. If you don’t, you’ll have to face the consequences!” The receptionist’s face had gone pale. “Miss Paltrow! How could you hit Miss Lin? She’s Mr. Stanton’s personal guest! What if something serious happens? Can you afford to take responsibility?” Liam sneered. “Sarah, if you kneel and apologize, I’ll put in a good word for you with Mr. Stanton.” The commotion had drawn everyone’s attention. No one noticed the elevator doors slide open. Not until a warm hand rested on my shoulder. “Honey, what’s got you so upset?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393414”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My childhood friend and I got into a car accident. When I woke up, the love of my life, my best friend since we were kids, had amnesia. I was physically unharmed, but my body was now home to a second soul: my grandmother, who had passed away years ago. “That little rascal!” Her voice boomed in my head. “Using that amnesia excuse to trick my sweet girl again. If I were still walking this earth, I’d break his legs!” My eyes widened in shock. My grandmother’s voice continued its tirade in my mind. “In my past life, that little heartbreaker Primo Sinclair caused my darling so much pain. She spent years with him, suffering, until she had a heart attack that nearly killed her. And where was he? Celebrating a birthday with Victoria Cole! Makes my blood boil!” “Sweetheart, this time, when your grandfather asks you to choose a husband, you absolutely cannot choose Primo. You have to choose Christoph Hurley. That boy is reliable!” As if on cue, my grandfather walked into the hospital room with several other family elders. They laid out photos of the heirs to the four great families, telling me to pick a husband. Without a moment’s hesitation, I chose my sworn enemy, Christoph Hurley. I was always my grandma’s girl. If she said Primo didn’t love me, then I didn’t want him anymore. 1 My grandfather looked at me, his expression hesitant. “Serena, you and that little troublemaker have always been at each other’s throats. Are you sure you want him as your husband? Think carefully. Once the engagement is set, there’s no going back.” My grandfather was a titan in the world of archaeology. He had decreed that whichever heir of the four great families married me would secure a partnership with our family business. Primo’s mother was also stunned and quickly tried to persuade me. “Serena, sweetheart, I know Primo has amnesia and has forgotten you, but you’ve always loved him so much. Why aren’t you willing to wait for him? Maybe once you’re married, his memory will return.” Grandma let out a sharp scoff in my mind. “What nonsense! In the last life, that Victoria girl broke my darling’s jewelry. My sweet girl barely said a word, and Primo threw her out of the house. My poor Serena, in nothing but her pajamas, stood in the pouring rain for hours. She almost froze to death.” “It was Christoph who came and held an umbrella over her, took her to a hotel to rest. His mouth is sharp, yes, but his heart is in the right place.” Hearing this, a sharp pain lanced through my heart. I didn’t understand why my grandmother kept talking about a “past life,” about things that seemed to have never happened. But her words felt so real, as if I had lived them myself. They left me feeling suffocated, my chest filled with a thousand pounds of wet cotton. Besides, Victoria really was Primo’s first love. They had a deep history. I was just the one who came after. “Grandpa, I’ve made my choice. I want Christoph Hurley.” My grandfather gathered the photos and ruffled my hair. “Alright, my dear. Grandpa respects your choice. In two days, I will publicly announce your engagement to Christoph Hurley.” Grandma let out a long sigh of relief. “That’s right. This time, my little darling won’t be tangled up in the miseries of the past. She’ll finally be happy.” While my grandfather discussed matters with the elders, I changed my clothes and decided to take a walk outside the hospital. To my surprise, three tall, handsome men were standing right outside my door. They were all my childhood friends, all potential candidates for my hand. Primo was there. Only Christoph was absent. Caleb grinned and sauntered over, his curiosity piqued. “Serena, I hear your grandfather is picking a fiancé for you from the four of us. Who did you choose?” Owen chimed in playfully. “Do you even have to ask? It’s obviously Primo. Everyone in our circle knows Serena is head over heels for him. Treats him like a precious treasure.” Primo shot me a cool, detached glance. “I don’t remember anything from the past three years. I only remember that Victoria is my girlfriend.” He paused. “But I know we were together during those three years I’ve lost. Even though I don’t love you now, I can’t defy my father’s wishes. Since the engagement is set, I will marry you.” Grandma sneered. “In his dreams! In the last life, Primo used this same amnesia act to openly flirt with Victoria while draining my sweet girl dry, stealing our family’s fortune, and driving my darling to depression and a fatal illness. That rotten scoundrel can go to hell!” I looked at Primo’s indifferent expression. Without my grandmother’s warning, I probably would have fallen for his lies. I really did love him. And I used to believe he loved me too. Like three years ago, when he lit up the entire city with fireworks just for me. His eyes were so full of devotion, his words so sweet. “Serena, I want to marry you. I want to make you the happiest woman in the world.” I had wept with joy and started a relationship with him. For three years, we were the picture of a happy, loving couple. I never imagined that he had never forgotten Victoria. He just didn’t want to offend my family, so he put on a show of loving me. Now, tired of the act, he was faking amnesia to openly declare his love for Victoria, all while condescending to marry me to secure the partnership with my family. Life doesn’t work that way. I wanted to retort, but seeing his smug, self-assured expression, I swallowed my words. Let him be smug for a couple more days. I was curious to see his reaction when he heard the truth from my grandfather’s own lips. Seeing my silence, Caleb nudged my shoulder. “So, Serena, did you choose Primo?” I replied calmly, “You’ll all know in two days.” With that, I turned to leave. Behind me, Owen clicked his tongue. “Primo, it’s definitely you. You don’t remember, but let me tell you. When you were seriously ill, Serena searched the entire world for medicine for you. She heard the temple on North Mountain was miraculous, so she knelt and climbed nine thousand, nine hundred steps just to pray for your recovery. She’s completely smitten with you.” “Is that so?” Primo chuckled, his voice lazy. “I had no idea she loved me that much.” A sharp pain twisted in my chest. My vision blurred with tears, but I held them back. My love for Primo was an open secret in our social circle. Everyone laughed at me for being a doormat, but I didn’t care. I lost my parents when I was young, and my grandparents were always away on archaeological digs. I was an easy target for bullies. Only Primo protected me. I had loved him since we were children. When he confessed his feelings, I cried with joy and swore to be the best girlfriend he could ever have. But all his kindness had an ulterior motive. He didn’t deserve my sincere love. “Serena, wait.” Someone called my name. I turned to see Primo. He strolled over, one hand in his pocket. “I know you chose me. I’ll marry you, but my heart belongs to Victoria. I hope you can respect that and not interfere.” I stared at him. “You have amnesia. Why are you so certain I would choose you?” Primo frowned. “Everyone says you love me. Who else would you choose?” I gave a bitter smile. So he knew. He knew how much I loved him. And he chose to trample on my feelings anyway. “Don’t worry. I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll grant you your wish.” I thought to myself, he’ll probably be thrilled when he finds out I chose Christoph. Hearing my quick agreement, Primo froze for a second. As I continued toward the exit, he subconsciously reached for me. Suddenly, a scooter swerved recklessly toward me. The wheel slammed into my leg, and I crumpled to the ground, my hands scraping against the rough pavement. Pain shot through me. Victoria’s face went pale. She scrambled off her scooter, crying as she tried to help me up. “Serena, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you! Please don’t be mad at me.” Before I could say a word, my grandmother’s furious voice erupted in my head. “This girl is pure trouble! Just like last time, always playing the victim or turning the tables to bully my sweet girl. She’s got Primo wrapped around her little finger. Those two are a matched set of bad news!” Seeing Victoria’s tear-streaked face, Primo’s heart melted. “It’s alright, Victoria. It’s a small thing. No one will blame you while I’m here.” He helped her up, then shot me a warning look. “She just bumped into you. You’re not going to make a big deal out of it, are you?” My arm was scraped raw. I gritted my teeth against the pain and pushed myself to my feet. Victoria looked at me pitifully. “Serena, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking. I’ll slap myself to make it up to you.” She raised her hand as if to strike her own face. Primo grabbed her wrist, then rounded on me. “Serena, it was an accident! Can you stop being such a bully all the time?” Grandma was even angrier. “That thick-skulled idiot! My sweet girl hasn’t said a single word, and that girl is crying her eyes out on her own. How dare he say my baby is bullying her! I’m so mad! Sweetheart, stand up for yourself! Slap the nonsense out of them!” Heeding her words, I raised my hand and slapped Victoria hard across the face. Then, I turned to Primo. “See? That is what you call bullying.” Victoria was stunned. Primo was frozen, his eyes turning cold. “Serena, you’ve gone too far…” I swung my arm again and slapped him just as hard. “That is what you call going too far.” For years, I had only ever obeyed him, never fought back. The blow left him completely bewildered. He stared at me, his teeth clenched. “Fine. Just fine. But you’ll regret laying a hand on me.” He turned to Victoria. “Victoria, let’s go. I’ll get you checked out.” Grandma scoffed. “Instead of caring for his injured fiancée, he’s fussing over some other girl. You’d only regret being with a blockhead like him! Oh, my poor baby, you’re hurt. It must hurt so much.” I looked down at my wound. Crimson blood was already seeping through. The bitterness and hurt I had suppressed came bubbling to the surface. When we were younger, whenever I got hurt, Primo would be frantic, wishing he could bear the pain for me. Maybe his love was a lie, but the friendship back then had felt real. Now, he ignored my injuries, even scolded me, terrified I would cause trouble for his true love. What my grandmother said felt more and more real. Even if I married him, I would just be repeating the same tragic story. 2 I wiped away my tears and went to find a nurse to bandage my hand. I noticed a group of nurses staring in one direction, so I followed their gaze. Just a wall away, I saw Victoria and Primo locked in an embrace, their eyes full of a soft, intimate light. I heard her gentle voice. “Primo, if Serena finds out you faked amnesia just so you could be with me openly, she’ll throw a fit, won’t she?” Primo stroked her hair. “So what if she knows? Everyone knows Serena loves me. Even with amnesia, she’ll be begging me to marry her.” Grandma snorted. “In his wildest dreams! My sweet girl didn’t choose you this time. She won’t be begging you for anything. Hmph, let’s see how smug you are in two days when the truth about the engagement comes out.” I smiled, though my face was as pale as paper, and there was no mirth in it. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I turned to leave with my bandaged hand. Suddenly, for reasons I couldn’t see, the crowd started screaming. “They have knives! Everyone, run!” The words ignited a panic. I was swept along with the crowd, but one of the assailants—a disgruntled patient’s family member causing a scene—grabbed me and raised a knife. I knew some self-defense, but my strength was limited. Seeing Primo notice the commotion, I swallowed my pride and screamed, “Primo, help me!” He instinctively started toward me, but Victoria clung to his arm, refusing to let go. “Primo, I’m scared! Please don’t go!” Primo hesitated. In that split second of hesitation, a new gash was added to my already injured arm. I sucked in a sharp breath of pain. Grandma was frantic. “Oh dear, this hospital dispute was a nasty one back then. Why did my sweet girl have to run into it today? And that deadbeat Primo! Faking amnesia doesn’t mean he’s actually forgotten everything. My baby would have walked through fire for him, and he won’t even save her! It’s too much!” I was losing strength from the pain. I clenched my teeth and yelled, “Primo, I’m begging you, help me! I’m going to die!” The words had barely left my mouth when Victoria let out a piercing scream. One of the assailants had lunged toward them. In an instant, Primo shielded her with his body and pulled her away, running. My mind went blank. I watched him run, protecting his true love, and a wave of despair washed over me. Even if the love was gone, I had loved him for so many years. I had been so good to him. In a life-or-death situation, couldn’t he spare me even a shred of pity? Couldn’t he help me, just once? Suddenly, the pressure on me was gone. Christoph Hurley kicked the man off me, pulled me into his arms, and shielded me as he pushed through the chaotic scene. “Go!” The chaos was quickly contained by security guards who subdued the assailants. I was still in shock, my body trembling uncontrollably. Christoph handed me a cup of hot water, his expression complex as he looked at me. I didn’t notice his mood, nor did I ask how he happened to be there. I just used my last bit of strength to thank him. News of the incident reached my grandfather, who was furious. He demanded an explanation from both the Sinclair and Cole families. The Coles quickly grounded Victoria and sent apology gifts. The Sinclairs were livid and forced Primo to come to my house to apologize.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393434”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

For the Christmas holidays, my girlfriend, Jessica, booked us on a trip abroad. The moment our plane landed, she coaxed me onto a charter bus. We drove for two days and two nights. As the landscape grew more and more familiar, a tremor ran through my entire body. This was it. The hometown I had escaped from four years ago. Sensing my unease, Jessica finally dropped the act. Her face twisted into a snarl as she told me she was selling me to a remote, illegal compound, one staffed entirely by women. And the “Boss” she kept mentioning? The head of that entire operation. My own sister. I had spent twenty years planning my escape, faking my own death to get away from her. And now, four years later, Jessica had tricked me and brought me right back. … Seeing me tremble, Jessica’s smile was sickeningly sweet. “Leo, you said you loved me, didn’t you? I’m in a lot of gambling debt. You’ll help me, won’t you?” The thought of what my sister would do to her made my voice shake. “Please, just send me back. If you need money, I’ll get it for you. I’ll work my entire life to support you, I swear!” Jessica’s expression soured. “You think I can wait that long?” she spat. “I owe a fortune! If I don’t pay it back in three days, they’ll kill me! I’ve kept you for two years, you useless piece of shit. It’s time you paid me back with interest!” The word “useless” made me shudder violently. Once, one of my sister’s underlings had muttered that I was useless, too afraid to even crush an ant. My sister had him buried in the dirt up to his neck, poured honey over his head, and let the ants do the rest. He was eaten alive. If my sister heard Jessica call me that, what would she do to her? Fear clawed at my heart. I looked at the woman I had loved for two years, and the tears finally broke free. “You said… you said you wanted to build a home with me. You said I was the only family you ever wanted…” Jessica’s hand, once so warm, caressed my face. Her words were ice. “That’s right. And family should help each other out, shouldn’t they? So help me, Leo.” I bit my lip, shaking my head frantically. A flicker of pity crossed her eyes. “You know, you’re most heart-wrenching when you cry, Leo,” she said softly. “You were the handsomest of all my boyfriends. The most innocent, too. If it wasn’t for the money, I really wouldn’t want to sell you.” Suddenly, her gaze turned vicious. “You’re mine. I can’t stand the thought of another woman doing those things to you!” She threw me down onto the floor of the bus and tied my hands behind my back with a rope. Then, she pulled a dagger from her coat and traced its edge along my cheek. “Leo, you don’t want to be defiled by them, do you? Let me help you with that.” A glint of cold steel, then a searing line of pain across my face. “NO!” I cried out in despair. My sister’s favorite thing, her most prized possession, was my face. When I was little, I knocked over a pot of boiling water and scalded my cheek. When she learned it might leave a scar, my sister had the maid’s hands broken and left her for the dogs. She threatened the doctor that if he couldn’t fix my face, she would peel the skin from his own. My sister always said my face was the living image of our dead father. She would never, ever allow it to be harmed. Jessica had just scarred my face. If my sister found out… I couldn’t bear to think about it. Forgetting the pain, I begged her. “Please, you can’t ruin my face!” Jessica laughed. “I already asked Roxy. She said the men at the compound don’t need a face. As long as their bodies work, it’s fine.” Roxy? The new foreman from four years ago? Before I could process it, Jessica slashed the dagger across my face again. The pain was so intense I couldn’t speak. Blood streamed into my eyes, turning the world crimson. “I know Roxy! Just take me to her, please!” If Roxy saw me, she would force Jessica to take me back. She had to. Jessica froze, then the knife cut even deeper. “So you were never really mine. Already trying to climb your way up to Roxy?” “I’ll destroy this face, and we’ll see how you seduce anyone else!” I screamed until I passed out. When I woke up, I’d been thrown out onto the dirt at the compound’s main gate. Standing nearby, talking to Jessica, was Roxy herself. “Roxy!” I rasped, my voice raw. She looked over, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “How does he know my name?” Jessica’s face paled. She lunged forward, grinding her heel onto my mouth. “He must have overheard my call on the bus. Don’t worry, it’s useless for him to know now.” Roxy considered this for a moment, then stuck a cigarette between her lips. “Is that so? You wouldn’t dare pull any tricks. How many is this now?” Jessica ground her heel into my mouth one last time before scrambling over to light Roxy’s cigarette. “This is the seventh. Don’t worry, I know the rules. He’s an orphan, no family, no one to come looking for him. He was even a virgin when I got him.” Roxy crouched down and blew a smoke ring in my face, studying me. A sliver of hope rekindled within me. She knew me. If she recognized me, she would make Jessica take me away. Immediately. After all, if the Boss found out one of her own people had kidnapped me, they would all be dead. “Tsk. What did you do to his face? He’s hideous.” Roxy looked away in disgust. My heart sank. She didn’t recognize me. Had Jessica truly disfigured me so completely? The thought brought a wave of despair so profound I wanted to weep, but my throat was clogged with dust and blood. “He was putting up a fight,” Jessica said quickly. “What if he used his face to seduce someone and escape? I ruined it to be safe. It’s not like the face matters anyway.” She leaned down, her voice a low, triumphant whisper in my ear. “See? Give up on seducing Roxy. She thinks you’re ugly.” With all my strength, I squeezed out two words. “You’ll… die…” Roxy’s eyebrows shot up. She kicked Jessica aside and crouched in front of me, a grim smile on her face. “This kid… did he just tell us to go to hell?” Seeing that sinister grin, I shook my head in terror. No! That’s not what I meant! I meant you have to get me out of here, or you will die! “Aaargh!” Roxy pried my mouth open and pressed the glowing ember of her cigarette onto my tongue. The searing pain, the acrid smell of burning flesh, filled the air along with my screams. “Ugly piece of shit, threatening us when you’re about to die!” Roxy spat a thick wad of phlegm onto my face. Jessica grabbed a nearby stick and jabbed it violently into my mouth. “How dare you offend Roxy, you little bastard! I’ll teach you to scream!” Blood and splinters filled my throat. I was suffocating, tears streaming down my face. Was I going to die here? “Alright, that’s enough. He’s no good to us dead,” Roxy said, stopping her. Jessica immediately dropped the bloody stick. “Right. So, do we go sign the contract and get the money now?” Two large men hoisted me up and began dragging me toward the compound. Just then, a black sedan pulled up—my sister’s car. I thrashed wildly, throwing myself with all my might toward the wheels. The car stopped. The back door opened, and my sister stepped out. She looked down at me on the ground, her brow furrowed. Sister, it’s me! It’s your brother! I strained to look up at her, my eyes pleading for help. Roxy grabbed me and slapped me hard across the face. “You damn mutt, trying to run into the Boss’s car!” My vision went black for a second, and I spat out a mouthful of blood. It splattered across my sister’s immaculate high-heeled shoes. Roxy went pale. She dropped to her knees, frantically wiping the shoes. “I’m so sorry, Boss! This new one is a real handful. I’ll get it clean right now!” Jessica, seeing this, also knelt to help. My sister narrowed her eyes, her gaze falling on me. “Oh? A fresh delivery?” “Yes, Boss. This one’s trouble. To avoid any problems, we ruined his face. He even had the nerve to curse us to death just now!” Roxy answered cautiously. My sister seemed intrigued. “Heh. The first one to come here with the guts to talk back. Is he a university student?” “Yes! Just graduated this year. An honors student, too!” Jessica chimed in eagerly. My sister looked thoughtful. She glanced at me again and sighed. “If my Leo were still alive, he’d be about that age… graduating from university…” Hearing her say my name, I began to twist and moan frantically. Sister, it’s me! I am Leo! “Shit, hold still, you bastard!” Roxy kicked me hard in the face. The wounds split open again, blood welling up. My mouth and tongue were so mangled I couldn’t form a single word, only broken, agonized whimpers. “Hm?” My sister paused, then crouched down, studying me closely. My heart pounded with excitement. I tried to open my mouth to call her name, but a tickle in my throat made me cough up another gout of blood. It splashed onto her face. Roxy and Jessica froze in sheer terror. One fumbled for a tissue to wipe away the blood while the other started dragging me away. Spotting a large iron drum filled with filthy water, Roxy hoisted me up. The next second, she plunged my head into it. The foul water flooded my nose and mouth. The feeling of suffocation was immediate, my lungs screaming in agony. Just as I thought I would die, Roxy yanked me out by my hair. “You little shit, how many lives do you think you have to disrespect my Boss!” she roared. “Today, I’ll kill you as an apology to her!” I had only a few seconds to gasp for air before she shoved me back under. After several repetitions, I was too choked to make a sound. Roxy threw me onto the ground and scurried back to my sister, bowing. “Boss, since he offended you, he’s useless alive. What are your orders?” “First, pull out all his fingernails. Then, how about we treat him to a special cocktail?” My blood ran cold. The cocktail. I had seen them use that particular torture on other men. I never thought it would be my turn. So be it. Sister, all the sins you’ve committed… let them be paid for through me. It’s not unjust. The thought calmed me. I closed my eyes, waiting for death. I was going to see Mom and Dad soon. A strange sense of joy washed over me. “Is he… smiling?” my sister’s hesitant voice cut through the haze. “What the fuck, this bastard still has the nerve to smile?!” Roxy, incredulous, grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. The filthy water had washed the blood from my face. My sister stared, a look of shock on her features. “Why are there so many wounds on his face?” In the reflection of her eyes, I saw my own ruined face for the first time. A dense network of crisscrossing scars, like ugly earthworms, covered every inch of my skin. It was terrifying. Disgusting. And I had thought she would recognize me. In this state, even I wouldn’t recognize myself.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393451”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

At Northgate High, a string of brutal murders shocked the nation. One by one, the students who bullied me turned up dead. And I became the prime suspect. As the detectives strode toward me, their faces grim, I smiled. I had been waiting for this day for a long, long time. 1. The Confrontation In the interrogation room, I stared at the stark, white walls. Detective Miller, the one who’d brought me in, and a female officer, Detective Chen, sat across from me, their expressions severe. “Hannah Evans, correct?” I tore my eyes from the wall, my voice laced with indifference. “Yes.” Miller’s voice suddenly boomed. “Watch your attitude. You’re in here to answer for what you’ve done.” I let a small smile play on my lips and sat up straighter. “Fine. My first question is, on what grounds am I being held?” Miller’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You really don’t know?” “Was it a surplus of empty rooms at the station? Offering free stays to civic-minded citizens?” “Hannah, if you continue with this attitude, we can charge you with obstruction of justice.” This time, it was Chen who spoke, her voice softer. I gave my cuffed hands a little shake, my apology dripping with sarcasm. “My mistake. I’m a total amateur when it comes to the law. Don’t hold it against me.” The room fell silent for a moment. Miller pulled out his notepad, his gaze fixed on me. “Where were you last night?” “Working.” “That late?” “I have class during the day. No other time.” “You were working the entire night?” “Yes.” “Lies!” Miller slammed his notepad on the table. “You were seen on Boston Road with Laura Peterson at midnight!” I wasn’t fazed. “Oh. So something happened to Laura.” The certainty in my voice made Miller’s gaze sharpen. “How did you know?” I looked him straight in the eye. “Is it that hard to guess? She missed class all morning, and by the afternoon, you’d dragged me in here asking about her.” “Fine. I won’t beat around the bush. Did you kill Laura Peterson?” A normal person would have been terrified. My emotional state, however, remained perfectly stable. “She’s dead? I have an alibi, Detective. That’s called a forced confession.” Chen picked up the thread. “You even know what a forced confession is. You must watch a lot of crime shows.” I smiled. “Just a few TV dramas.” Chen’s tone shifted. “But we never mentioned the time of the incident. How do you know you have an alibi?” I looked at her earnestly. “She was fine when we parted ways. Whatever happened must have been after I left.” “Left?” Miller cut in. “Left where?” I turned back to him. “Left the school. She’s a boarder. I’m a day student.” Miller produced a grainy photograph. “Then why does security footage show you and Laura on Boston Road at midnight?” It was a still from a security camera, showing two blurry figures—me and Laura—at the school gate. I glanced at it and the memory came flooding back. “The school doesn’t allow phones. I’d charged hers the day before and was supposed to sneak it back to her. But security was tight at the gate that day, so I hid it in the bushes. That night, she was afraid I’d tricked her and insisted on coming with me to get it.” Miller scoffed. “So you two were close?” I didn’t want to get into it. “We were okay.” “Is there a single truthful word in your mouth?” Miller’s face darkened. “On March fourth, you filed a police report claiming Laura Peterson was bullying you. While no charges were filed due to your age, the report is on record!” I lifted my gaze, my voice flat. “Then you should also know that her family paid mine fifty thousand dollars to settle the matter.” At that, a flicker of memory made me smile again. “Why would I kill her? If she beat me half to death again, I could just extort another payment from her.” Since Miller had dug into my past, he knew exactly what I meant. Six months ago, I was relentlessly tormented by Laura and her friends. I couldn’t take it anymore and told my parents and the school. Laura’s family had connections at the school. The anonymous complaint I dropped in the tip box one day was in her hands the next. She read my letter aloud in front of me, her voice dripping with mockery. Halfway through, she flew into a rage, rolled the thick stack of paper into a tube, and shoved it violently into my mouth. I gagged, my eyes rolling back. In my struggle, I managed to scratch her. That only made her angrier. She grabbed a broken mop handle from the bathroom and beat me like a rabid dog. I honestly thought I was going to die, but I clenched my teeth and refused to beg. I passed out and was beaten awake, over and over. Thankfully, it was daytime. Laura and her crew locked me in the bathroom and went to lunch. Terrified I would actually die in there, I dragged my broken body out the window. Under the horrified stares of dozens of students, I stumbled to the nearest police station. I was a mess, and there were too many witnesses. The police quickly found Laura, using the DNA under my fingernails to identify her. Laura’s mother, radiating wealth and arrogance, stormed into my hospital room. In front of the police and my parents, she stated her terms bluntly. “My daughter is young. She gets carried away when she’s playing with friends. Young lady, I’ll give you fifty thousand dollars in compensation. How about it?” Even the police advised me that given Laura’s age, a lawsuit would likely go nowhere. My parents were ordinary, timid people. When I’d told them about the bullying before, their only advice was, “Just endure it. They’re powerful people. We can’t afford to make enemies. Once you get to college, it’ll all be over.” Now, faced with Laura’s intimidating mother and the officers’ advice, their resolve crumbled. They pleaded with me. “Let it go. You’re okay now, aren’t you? And if you won’t think about yourself, think about your brother. The family really needs the money.” They practically forced my head down to sign the settlement agreement. Laura’s mother took the signed paper, glanced at my parents greedily counting the cash, and then smiled at me. “You rest up now. Once you’re all healed, maybe you can earn your parents another big payday.” Detective Chen clearly knew this story. Her expression was complicated. “If you took the money, why didn’t you transfer to another school?” A faint smirk touched my lips. “Detective, are you hoping I’ll say it was for revenge?” Chen didn’t answer, just watched me intently. I leaned back against the chair, exhaled, and smiled. “Of course, it was because that money had to be saved for my brother’s education. And his wedding.” Chen was taken aback and said no more. “Then why were your fingerprints all over the crime scene?” “Crime scene?” I thought for a moment. “The sophomore classroom, the school rooftop, the supply closet, or the abandoned toilets on the sports field? I’ve crawled around like a dog in all those places. It wouldn’t be strange to find my fingerprints anywhere.” Miller cut in. “Forget the other places. Tell me what you and Laura were doing at the school before midnight. Day students are allowed to leave at eight.” I almost laughed. “Detective, you should be asking what she was doing to me.” “Fine. Then tell us what she did to you.” “I’d only been back at school for a few days after recovering. Laura couldn’t stand the sight of me. She was always looking for a chance to ‘teach me a lesson.’ That night, before midnight, she was beating me.” The bruises on my face were still visible. I said it lightly, but the others in the room fell silent. “So you killed her?” The two detectives were deliberately illogical, jumping from topic to topic, hoping to catch me off guard with a sudden accusation. I was getting annoyed. “If you have evidence, present it. I have an alibi. There are cameras all the way from the school to my job, and from my job back to the school. Go check them yourselves.” With that, I leaned back in the chair, closed my eyes, and refused to say another word, no matter what they asked. Interrogations are useless without evidence. Right now, they had nothing concrete. As long as I kept my mouth shut, there was nothing they could do. I was held for 24 hours. When they finally let me go, my legs were swollen. I stretched my stiff limbs. Turning back, I offered the two officers at the door a smile. “See you later.” 2. Campus Terror When I returned to school, the news of Laura’s death was still under wraps. Everyone just assumed I’d taken a day off. Walking past the abandoned toilets on the sports field, I saw they were now cordoned off with yellow police tape. I made it back to the classroom just as the break bell rang. The room was buzzing with noise, but the students, as if by some unspoken agreement, all ignored me. I calmly went to my desk, swept the pile of trash they’d left on it into the bin, and cleaned my space just before the next class began. The teacher, entering from the back door as the bell rang, paused when he saw me. A second later, he pretended not to have seen anything, walked to the front, and started his lecture. The thought of Laura being dead sent a thrill through me. My fingertips danced a happy little rhythm on the desk. Time flies when you’re having fun. The bell rang again, signaling the long mid-morning break—twenty minutes of freedom. Students poured out of their seats, heading outside. Suddenly, a loud THUD! The hallway fell silent for a heartbeat. Then, a scream. “Someone jumped!” A chaotic swarm of students rushed to the windows, bodies climbing over each other to get a look. Someone recognized the fallen figure. “Is that Tiffany?” Tiffany, Laura’s twin sister. The second person who had bullied me had just jumped from the roof. She’d jumped from the rooftop, a spot many students used to get some air during the break. There were no cameras up there. Down below, police had already cordoned off the area. A woman was being held back by a group of officers, her cries echoing, wild and grief-stricken. I almost didn’t recognize her as the same immaculately dressed, imperious woman from the hospital. The school’s PA system crackled to life, ordering all students to return to their classrooms and stay put. I thought about it for a moment, then ignored the announcement and headed downstairs. Under the watchful eyes of the police, I walked toward the hysterical woman. An officer, his gaze probing, subtly blocked my path, keeping me from getting too close. I stopped a few feet away and offered my sincere condolences. “Auntie,” I said, my voice clear and carrying, my smile perfectly placed. “You should use your money to piece your daughter back together.” The woman’s sobs choked off. A second later, her hair flying wildly, she lunged at me. “You bitch! It was you! You killed my daughter!” The police scrambled again, this time to shield me. I watched the crazed woman, my expression cold. I met her bloodshot eyes, and a slow, deliberate smile spread across my face. I puckered my lips and made a soft sound. “Pop.” I was back at the police station. Familiar seat. Familiar faces. Miller’s notebook hit the table with a resounding smack. His voice was a furious snarl. “What was the meaning of what you said back at the school?” I looked at him, the picture of innocence. “Detective, didn’t you know? Tiffany landed in pieces. The morticians will have to stitch her back together.” Based on where she fell, she must have jumped from the southeast corner of the roof. It was a known blind spot. A spot where other students had stumbled upon Laura and Tiffany beating me. A spot they now assiduously avoided, not wanting to get involved. Even if someone had seen something, after I had reported the bullying once, the school had held multiple assemblies, strictly forbidding students from discussing school matters with outsiders, especially the police. The students had learned their lesson well. Their mouths were sealed. Just like when they’d seen nothing as my clothes were torn off and I was left in a corner. I was sure that this time, too, Miller and Chen had gotten nothing out of them. So, they were focusing all their energy on me again. The two detectives exchanged a look. Chen spoke first. “You didn’t seem to mention your relationship with Tiffany last time.” I tilted my head. “Did you ask?” “Fine. I’m asking now. What was your relationship with Tiffany Peterson?” “It was okay.” “Hannah!” Miller roared. “Think carefully before you answer.” I lowered my head, my voice quiet. “Detective, as you know, I have the right to remain silent.” Don’t you raise your voice at me. The power to speak, or not, is mine. He must have remembered my previous stonewalling. Miller changed his tactic. “Only by telling us what you know can we clear your name.” This time, I really did laugh. “Innocent until proven guilty. If you can’t find any evidence, my name is already clear. Detective, what do you mean, clear my name?” Tiffany’s death happened during school hours, with too many witnesses. The fallout would be massive. Every person in charge was probably in a full-blown panic. “Besides, didn’t Tiffany jump? What’s the use of arresting me?” “Laura and Tiffany, both dead in a matter of days. You think that’s a coincidence?” I shook my head. “No, I don’t. But you can’t solve a case based on guesswork.” “Fine. You were the person in most recent contact with them. Did you notice anything unusual about them lately?” The irony was thick. The person they bullied the most had somehow become the person closest to them. Unusual? Of course. Unusually vicious. After my incident was “resolved,” the Peterson twins became even more convinced of their parents’ power. Their cruelty escalated. After I reported them and the police reviewed the security footage, they learned how to erase their tracks. Every act of torment took place in a blind spot, where cameras were either nonexistent or conveniently broken. They had sown the wind, and now they were reaping the whirlwind. The police couldn’t even figure out who they had recently crossed. I shook my head again. “No. I spent every day trying to avoid them. Why would I pay attention to them?” “Did they have any other friends they usually hung out with?” What she really wanted to ask was who else participated in the bullying. If the twins’ deaths were related to bullying, identifying other potential victims was a key part of the investigation. I actually didn’t mind talking to Detective Chen. A bit of civic cooperation. “That’s a difficult question for me to answer. After all, a beating victim’s only job is to cover their head. They don’t get the privilege of looking up.” Chen was silent. I saw Miller frown. “But you must know how many people were there.” The people there… I didn’t need to see them. I could hear their voices. I didn’t refuse outright. I looked at Miller and said, with utmost seriousness, “I can. On the condition that they admit to participating in the bullying.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393467”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

To preserve his precious star’s perfect hundred-win record, my husband stole my legal files, ensuring I would suffer a devastating defeat in the most important case of my life. He felt no guilt. He just tossed a credit card at me. “The world only needs one top female lawyer, Charlotte. Abby’s career can’t have a single loss. So, just quit the bar. I’ll take care of you from now on.” On his orders, I was blacklisted from the entire industry. The next time I appeared in court, it was for a divorce. And I was both the plaintiff and my own counsel. Standing in the courtroom again felt surreal, a ghost of a life I once knew. Across the aisle, Abby Monroe stood in a razor-sharp power suit, her expression dripping with contempt. “No lawyer, Charlotte? Still as overconfident as ever. I made you lose once, I can do it again. You’re really going to these lengths just to get Ethan’s attention, aren’t you?” Ethan Bonerz stood beside her, his face a thundercloud. He just stared at me, his jaw tight, saying nothing. Compared to their bustling legal team, my solitary presence felt stark and cold. I arranged my documents, then met her gaze with a calm, deliberate smile. “Abby, do you really want me to remind everyone here how you actually won that case?” Her arrogant smirk froze on her face. I ignored her, closing my eyes to prepare. It was a ritual I’d maintained since my first day in the profession: arrive early, shut my eyes, and mentally walk through the entire trial. Breathing in the familiar scent of polished wood and old paper that clung to the courtroom, a wave of calm washed over me. But my meditation was rudely shattered. Ethan strode across the aisle, grabbing my wrist and pulling me to my feet. He pursed his lips, still affecting that condescending air of his. “Withdraw the petition. Come home with me, and I’ll pretend none of this ever happened.” The warmth of his skin against mine was a lie. Underneath it, I could feel a tremor, a faint, almost imperceptible shaking. I wrenched my hand away. “Defendant, please respect the plaintiff.” He stared into my eyes, rooted to the spot. After a long moment, a bitter, self-mocking smile twisted his lips. “You’ll regret this, Charlotte.” In the business world, he was known for his bold, decisive moves. Here, in the courtroom, he was a man of few words, letting Abby do all the talking. She acted as his sole representative, her questions coming like a volley of arrows. Seeing my silence, she seemed to smell victory, landing her final blow with a sneer. “You haven’t improved at all.” When it was my turn, I wasted no time on speeches. I presented my evidence directly. “The defendant is the at-fault party due to adultery during the marriage. Pursuant to state family law, I request an immediate, final decree of divorce.” A murmur rippled through the gallery. Across the aisle, the defendant’s party lost their composure. Ethan shot to his feet, his voice laced with panic. “Abby and I were just living together so I could take care of her and the child! Nothing happened between us. That’s not proof! I don’t agree to the divorce!” I pointed out, my voice steady and clear, “The defendant has just admitted, on the record, to cohabitating with another woman during our marriage.” … The gavel fell. Divorce granted. Outside the courthouse, Abby blocked my path. In over a decade of practice, this was likely her first loss. She spoke through gritted teeth, “The only case you’ll ever win is your own divorce. After what happened, who in New York would dare hire you?” “I would. I dare.” The voice came before the man. A figure stepped between us, shielding me from Abby’s glare. He was smiling, a picture of easy confidence. Abby recognized him instantly. In the New York legal world, everyone knew Gary Vance, the man who had built a ten-firm empire from the ground up. “Ms. Monroe,” Gary said, his smile widening. “First, my warmest congratulations on your loss. Second, I’ve already extended a formal offer to Charlotte. Starting tomorrow, she will be my firm’s new ace attorney and partner.” Abby stared, incredulous. “Mr. Vance, you… you two…” I didn’t know when Ethan had come to stand behind me, but his voice was a low, almost spectral murmur. “Charlotte, you didn’t have to do all this—the fake divorce, hiring this guy just to make me angry. The case is in the past. You only lost your job, it’s not the end of the world. Why can’t you be magnanimous like Abby? Why can’t you just move on?” Gary started to speak, but I held up a hand to stop him. “Fine,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “I’ll be magnanimous. I’ll move on.” “Here’s how. You issue a public statement, right now. Admit that you stole my materials for the Westgate Construction case, causing my appeal to fail. Admit that your actions led the plaintiff to take his own life, destroying his family. You do that, and I’ll move on.” The color drained from both their faces. A few months ago, I had taken on a monumental wrongful conviction case, one that had captured the city’s attention. Driven by a lawyer’s sense of duty, I stepped in. It was a losing battle. Everyone knew the construction worker was innocent, yet he was saddled with millions in damages and a decades-long prison sentence. The case was the most-watched trial in New York in a decade, for one simple reason: the plaintiff’s counsel was the legal world’s undefeated legend, Abby Monroe. The defendant’s counsel was me, the rising star. This was Abby’s hundredth case. She had publicly boasted that she would make me suffer a humiliating defeat. At the time, Ethan and I were still newlyweds. I was drowning, juggling work and home life, poring over legal texts until my hair fell out in clumps. But I found it—the key piece of evidence that could overturn the whole case. I was ecstatic. I called the victim’s family, worked with them to convince a key witness to testify. Everything was finally turning in our favor. I couldn’t wait to tell Ethan. He was reviewing financial reports, and his hand paused mid-air. He looked up slowly, but there was no joy for me in his eyes. “Charlotte, stop digging. You’re exhausted.” I didn’t catch the hidden meaning in his words. I went to him, taking his hand, my voice full of the warmth of a new bride. “Honey, this is the most important case of my life. No matter how hard it is, I have to clear my client’s name. The trial is tomorrow. You have to wish me luck!” He shot up from his chair, yanking his hand from mine without a word. The next morning, I knew something was wrong. The key evidence was gone. The digital backup had been wiped. A cold sweat broke out on my skin. I couldn’t imagine who could have cracked my password. It was too late to call the police; I had no choice but to go to court and fight with what I had left. What shattered me completely was the witness. On the stand, he recanted his testimony. In that instant, my mind went blank. The judge’s voice upholding the original verdict was a distant drone. I don’t remember how I left the defendant’s table under Abby’s mocking gaze, or how I pushed through the swarm of reporters outside the courthouse. All I remember is snapping back to reality with my client’s wife and daughter collapsed at my feet, their wails tearing through the air as they asked me why. Why? I fled, disoriented and panicked, and stumbled right into Ethan and Abby. She was hooking a finger in his tie, pulling him close, the air thick with intimacy. Her voice was a sultry whisper, a warm breath against his ear. “Ethan, darling. Thank you for destroying the evidence for me. And for giving me the witness’s information. It’s the only way I could have won. I’ll be sure to reward you properly.” Ethan stroked her hair, his voice gentle. “Her winning or losing is nothing compared to your perfect record.” The sight of them, so cozy and triumphant, made my stomach turn. As far as I knew, Abby was ten years our senior, divorced, with a child. A small sound escaped my lips, and they both turned. They saw me standing there, pale as a ghost. “Charlotte…” Ethan started towards me, but Abby held him back. She looked at me, a triumphant smirk on her face, and made a thumbs-down gesture. Then, with a sickeningly sweet smile, she mouthed a single word. “Loser.” Ethan seemed to think he’d done nothing wrong. I screamed, my voice raw with hysteria, demanding an explanation. He just waved a dismissive hand, his tone detached, as if he were a mere spectator. “Abby helped me out of a tough spot once. This is just a small thing for you, Charlotte, but for her, it’s her hundred-win reputation. You should know what’s more important.” “A small thing?” A laugh, sharp and brittle, escaped my lips. “The breadwinner of a family is wrongfully imprisoned, and you call that a small thing?” “The hopes of countless other workers are crushed, and you call that a small thing?” “In your eyes, Abby Monroe’s reputation is the only thing that matters?” Perhaps the raw disappointment in my eyes provoked him. His face darkened with irritation. “What else? Let me be clear. To me, Abby is more important than anyone else. She helped my mother escape a gambling-addicted husband. She helped me get away from my deadbeat father. There’s nothing she could do that I wouldn’t forgive.” He continued, his voice hardening, “Just quit being a lawyer, Charlotte. The world only needs one top female attorney, and Abby’s career can’t have a single loss. I will clear every obstacle from her path. From now on, you’ll stay home and take care of me. I’ll provide for you.” He tossed a credit card at my feet, and without a backward glance at the broken woman I had become, he turned and walked away. From the window, I watched him go. I saw Abby run to him, throwing herself into his arms. They looked like lovers. Was this really just about repaying a debt? My heart was a hollow chasm, but I had no time to dwell on it. The damage was done. All I could do now was try to mitigate the fallout and compensate my client’s family as best I could. But before I could even begin to form a plan, I received the news that would haunt me for the rest of my life. My client, seeing no hope, had drowned himself in the river. His wife, unable to bear the grief, had tried to follow him. Their daughter had done the same. The daughter was rescued, and was now fighting for her life in the ICU. The moment I got the call, I rushed to the hospital. The traffic was a nightmare. I abandoned my car and ran. I stumbled and scrambled, and just as I neared the hospital intersection, a small figure darted out and shoved me hard, sending me sprawling into the middle of the road. A car screeched to a halt just a foot from my head. The driver rolled down his window, roaring, “Are you blind? If I weren’t a good driver, you’d be dead!” I stammered my thanks and grabbed the little girl who had pushed me. “What do you think you’re doing?” The girl, seeing she couldn’t escape, let her eyes dart around before plopping down on the pavement and bursting into a theatrical wail. “Homewrecker! You’re a homewrecker! You stole my daddy! Waaah, you’re a bad woman!” Onlookers immediately began to stare and mutter. The driver spat in my direction. “Breaking up families. Would’ve been better if I’d just hit you.” My head was spinning, but I managed to keep some semblance of composure. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. “You will be held accountable for every word you just said.” Seeing me call the police, the girl scrambled up and ran into the arms of a woman standing nearby. It was Abby. And standing right beside her, his face a mask of stone, was Ethan. — In the mediation room, the three of them sat across from me. The little girl, Anna, kept making faces and taunting me. Abby did nothing to stop her, instead stroking her head encouragingly. “She’s just a child, Charlotte. Why are you making a big deal out of this?” Ethan’s voice cut in, and my eyes burned with unshed tears. “Ethan, I was almost killed!” “But you weren’t, were you?” Abby shot me a resentful glance. “Why bully a child? I’ll apologize on her behalf, and we can let this go. She’s a minor, you can’t do anything to us anyway.” “No need to apologize,” Ethan said, stopping her. A fresh wave of pain washed over me. I looked at the man before me and suddenly, he was a stranger. I remembered a time when I’d gotten a small papercut, and he had fussed over me, carefully applying a bandage. Now, I had narrowly escaped death, and he didn’t care at all. He was telling me to let the person who tried to kill me walk free. “Go home, Charlotte. Don’t make me say it again.” His cold, dismissive tone was like a plunge into an icy abyss. My heart froze over. “Give me an explanation.” Ethan looked up, startled. Then, as if he understood something, he frowned. “Anna and Abby are on their own. The little girl is young and doesn’t understand. She sees me as a father figure. I happen to like kids, so I’ve been playing along. That’s why she misunderstood our relationship. I’ll explain it to her when she’s older.” I let out a bitter laugh. “You like kids, Ethan, but you never wanted to have one with me, did you?” We were supposed to be in our honeymoon phase, but Ethan was never home. I was shy, but one night I gathered all my courage, my face flushed, and asked him to stay home from work, just for one night. He was surprised, but he agreed. That night, just as passion was building, his phone rang. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled away and left. Embarrassment, disappointment, shame… a storm of emotions swirled inside me. I sat alone on the bed and cried the entire night. He obviously remembered it too. He stammered, “Anna had a high fever that night.” I walked to the window, looking down at the city lights twinkling below, and laughed coldly. “So what you’re saying is, Anna has a mother, she has grandparents, she has a family. But the one person she can’t live without is a ‘father’ she has no blood relation to? Is that it?” “Enough!” He strode over to me, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to look at him. “When did you become so jealous?” His pupils reflected my face, haggard and worn down by the endless turmoil he and Abby had created. And suddenly, I felt so tired. It was all so meaningless. I broke free from his grasp and walked away. My hand was just about to touch the doorknob when his voice, hard as steel, came from behind me. “Stop being a lawyer. Be a housewife. This is a notification, not a negotiation.” “Besides, Charlotte, you’ve already lost the right to be a lawyer.” “I’ve blocked every single one of your escape routes.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393486”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel