Category: English

The moment I succeeded in winning over the brooding male lead, I chose to exit the world. I didn’t hesitate for a second, not even when he begged me, broken and humbled, to stay. Later, back in the real world, my life fell apart. The System found me again. It offered me five million dollars to go back into the book and win him over one more time. Just as I was about to agree, a stream of comments flashed across my vision: “Holy crap, the ex who ditched Aidan is back.” “LOL, does she seriously think he’s still in love with her?” “The second ‘Tasker’ not only got his Darkness Value down to negative one hundred, but she also chose to stay, giving him the family he always wanted.” “The happy couple is about to get married. Can the ex-wife please have some self-respect and not bother them?” 1 It took me a long moment to process it. The “ex-wife” they were talking about… was me. Beside me, the System was still buzzing in my ear, trying to sell me on the deal. “All you have to do is make Aidan Sterling fall for you again, and you’ll get five million dollars. Even if you fail, you’ll get fifty thousand for your trouble. How about it? It’s a bargain, right?” It was a bargain. And right now, I desperately needed the money. But the comments echoed in my head. I stayed silent for a moment, then said I needed to think about it. So, the System decided to send me back into the book first. To be precise, it sent me back to the home Aidan and I once shared. The tiny apartment, old but filled with a familiar warmth, was exactly as I’d left it three years ago. Aidan hadn’t moved a single thing. Even the dress I’d accidentally stained just before I left was now hanging in the closet, clean and pristine, as if waiting for me. I remembered that dress. It was from a famous designer, all the rage at the time. When Aidan had secretly bought it for me, I’d chewed him out for spending so much money. He didn’t argue, just lowered his gaze, his long lashes shadowing his cheeks, and waited for my anger to fade. Then, he’d coaxed me, in that soft, gentle voice of his, to try it on. I looked down, the silky fabric cool against my fingers. I took a deep breath. If Aidan had truly forgotten me… then why was this apartment still here? I looked up again, my eyes scanning the small room. My gaze was suddenly caught by a white piece of paper taped to the window. A few large, scrawled words were visible through the glass. FOR SALE. PRICE NEGOTIABLE. URGENT. The sharp, decisive strokes were unmistakably Aidan’s. 2 A fresh wave of tiny text flooded my vision: “Hahaha, look at her face. The ex-wife is stunned. He wasn’t holding onto their past; he just hadn’t gotten around to selling the place.” “She really thought he still loved her like before. Plot twist: now that he has our sweet Sophie, he won’t even give his ex a second glance.” “The only reason the System brought her back is to create some drama for Aidan and Sophie. Get ready for some prime humiliation, folks.” I pressed my lips together. So that was it. The System was willing to offer five million because it was certain I would fail. Its real goal was to cast me as the villain, the obstacle in the main couple’s love story. He was getting my labor for a mere fifty thousand dollars. Fifty thousand. I laughed, a bitter, self-mocking sound. To play the fool for fifty grand… it wasn’t a small amount. It was enough to cover a week of treatment in the ICU. I summoned the System and coolly accepted the deal. The System was thrilled. It deposited a large sum of money into my account for expenses, though it could only be used within the book’s world. Since Aidan was so eager to sell this place, I might as well be the one to buy it. I clutched my phone, my fingers dialing a number I knew by heart. It rang for half a minute before someone picked up. A bright, clear female voice came through the line. “Hello? Who is this…?” I froze for a second, then glanced down to confirm the number. It was definitely Aidan’s. “Hi, I was passing by and saw the ‘For Sale’ sign in the window…” “You want to buy the apartment?” the person on the other end exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. “That’s wonderful! Finally, someone wants it.” I asked cautiously, “Are you the owner?” “I’m the owner’s girlfriend. You can just call me Sophie.” So, this was the second Tasker. As my mind went blank, a brief murmur of voices came from the other end of the line, like two people whispering. It felt like an eternity passed before someone picked up the phone again. Aidan’s cold, detached voice came through, sharp and clear. “Hello. Is it convenient to meet and discuss this in person?” 3 I waited in the coffee shop, a bundle of nerves. Finally, a sleek, understated luxury car pulled up to the curb. A picture-perfect couple stepped out. I hadn’t seen Aidan in three years, but he was just as striking as ever. The last traces of youthful uncertainty in his features had been replaced by the quiet confidence that comes with power and wealth. He leaned casually against the car door. Sophie said something that made him smile, and he reached out to gently ruffle her hair. From across the distance, his gaze drifted in my direction. It rested on me for a fraction of a second before moving on, as placid and undisturbed as a still lake. I was still lost in a daze when Sophie sat down in front of me. She offered me an apologetic smile. “My boyfriend had to run, he could only drop me off. I’ll be handling the details in his place.” I nodded, my voice genuine. “I can tell you two are very happy together.” Sophie’s smile deepened. “He runs a tech company. The net profit is in the nine-figure range every year. It’s not about the money from the apartment, you know? We just… don’t want to keep it around anymore.” Her tone was laced with a faint, unmissable sense of superiority. I nodded again and, following procedure, asked to see the apartment. Sophie paused, a flicker of awkwardness in her eyes. “I don’t have the keys. If you want to see it, my boyfriend will have to take you himself.” I blinked, confused. “He didn’t give you the keys before you came?” Logically, any property sale involved a viewing. Aidan couldn’t possibly be unaware of that. Sophie sighed, a hint of frustration in her smile. “I asked, but he wouldn’t give them to me. He’s never even taken me there.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “To be honest with you, this is the place he lived in with his ex-wife when he was just starting out. It just… gives me the creeps. That’s why I want it gone, and fast.” “Oh,” I said. “In that case, I don’t need to see it. We can just sign the contract.” Sophie’s face lit up. Afraid I’d change my mind, she immediately pulled out the sales agreement. But she didn’t have the deed, so we couldn’t transfer the title just yet. We’d still have to wait for Aidan. With time to kill, I looked at this woman, a fellow Tasker, just like me. My curiosity got the better of me. “How did you and he get together?” What I really wanted to know was how she had managed to win him over. The System had told me that after I left, Aidan had briefly relapsed into a second darkness. He’d attempted suicide, slit his wrists… his Darkness Value had skyrocketed to a level that threatened the stability of the entire world. Sophie had appeared at his side during that critical time. She not only lowered his Darkness Value but completely replaced me in his heart. Aidan was not an easy man to win over. She must have gone through hell. But Sophie just smiled brightly. “He had just been abandoned by his ex-wife and was completely heartbroken. I was just there for him, comforting him. It didn’t take long for us to make it official.” Was it really that simple? I could hardly believe it. Once again, the screen of my vision was flooded with mockery: “Hahaha, the ex-wife is having a meltdown. Aidan has zero resistance when it comes to our girl Sophie.” “Don’t forget, it took the ex ten whole years to win him over. She threw herself at him countless times before he finally, reluctantly, agreed to be with her.” “Sophie just had a few conversations with him, and all of the ex’s years of work went down the drain. That’s the power of true love, baby.” … I silently watched the jeering words scroll by. They were right. My journey with Aidan had been incredibly difficult. So difficult that I never wanted to live through it again. 4 Aidan’s parents never loved him. At a young age, they abandoned him in a psychiatric hospital, leaving him to the mercy of abusive orderlies. The place was filled with violent, unhinged patients, a veritable prison guarded like a fortress. Even with the System’s help, I nearly died getting him out of there. I took Aidan to a new city where no one knew us. I made sure he went to school, got an education, stayed on the right path. I even arranged for expensive therapy sessions every week. I did all of it hoping he would finally, completely, trust me. But Aidan was too smart. He effortlessly saw through the façade of this world, including my identity and my mission. After graduation, Aidan was the state’s top scholar. I threw a party to celebrate, overjoyed for him. But he quietly pulled me aside, his expression cold, a flicker of self-deprecation in his eyes. “You’re doing all this to win me over for your mission, aren’t you?” After the initial shock, I sighed, my voice catching. “I’m in love with you. That’s my mission.” Aidan scoffed, clearly unconvinced. My heart hammered in my chest. I pressed my head against his chest, my voice a small murmur. “Aidan, please, don’t get hung up on all that. These last few years… they’ve been so hard. You have to hurry up and make my life easier.” My voice broke. “I really, really love you. Please don’t question me like this again. It hurts too much.” … After college, Aidan started his own company. We moved into that tiny, rundown apartment. It had no heating in the winter. I was always cold, and my feet would get so numb they ached. Every night, Aidan would massage them for me, his eyes red with unshed tears, silent but full of pain for me. By then, we were married. His life goal had shifted from building a tech empire to destroy the world to the mundane task of making enough money to buy his wife a house. We hustled during the day and held each other in that small bed at night. I remember being harassed by an investor I was trying to win over; I didn’t dare tell Aidan, so I just walked the streets alone, crying. Another time, when a rival company came after us, I stood in front of Aidan without a second thought, taking the blow that sent me to the operating room. I don’t know how many times I went through things like that before Aidan slowly, painstakingly, fell in love with me. And compared to my decade-long effort, Sophie had done it in just three short weeks. She’d brought his Darkness Value down to negative one hundred and pushed his Affection Meter all the way to one hundred percent. 5 Sophie was still chattering on about the sweet little moments she shared with Aidan. She said it was love at first sight for him. I swallowed the lump in my throat and took a sip of my milkshake. “Has he… ever mentioned his ex-wife to you?” Sophie thought for a moment, then a triumphant smile spread across her face. “Never. I think he’s completely over her.” I nodded. It was better this way. I didn’t actually want to ruin their relationship. When Aidan showed up, I’d just act like I was full of regret, pathetically throwing myself at him. Given his personality, he’d probably be disgusted and push me away. Once he rejected me, I’d take my fifty thousand dollars and happily exit this world. As I was plotting, Sophie’s phone rang. Her face lit up. “My boyfriend’s meeting is over! He’s coming to pick me up. We have a date tonight, so let’s deal with the apartment tomorrow, okay?” I froze for a second, then forced a smile and a nod. “Okay, I’ll just be going then…” “Where do you live?” Sophie asked, grabbing my arm affectionately. “I’ll have my boyfriend give you a ride.” The smile on my face froze solid. Sophie was just too insistent. Before I knew it, the car door had clicked shut, and I was inside. The cool, clean scent of pine wood hung in the air. I could hear Sophie’s sweet, playful voice as she showed Aidan her new manicure. Aidan was sitting right in front of me. From my angle, I could see his hands on the steering wheel, his knuckles sharp and defined. He kept his eyes on the road, but he responded to her every word. I glanced at the rearview mirror, at the handsome lines of his face, and felt a wave of disorientation. Aidan had never been this patient with me. When we were together, he was always so insecure, so full of dread. He knew about my mission and was terrified I would leave at any moment. He’d wake up in the middle of the night, startled, his hand frantically searching for me on the other side of the bed. I would have to soothe him, again and again, exhausted. “I won’t leave you alone. I love you, and it has nothing to do with the mission.” I kept telling him that lie, right up until the moment I left. He had cried then, clutching my hand, begging me not to go. Begging me to stay just a little longer, just a few more years. I had sighed and refused every plea. His face had gone pale, his eyes swirling with a storm of pain and madness. “Why? Don’t you love me? How can you just leave me like this? You said you’d never leave me alone!” I gave him a bitter smile. “I have someone I love in the real world.” … Aidan’s eyes flickered up, catching my gaze in the mirror. He frowned. The car lurched forward with a sudden, violent screech of brakes. Caught off guard, my forehead slammed against the window with a dull thud, leaving a blooming bruise. “Sorry,” Aidan’s voice was raspy. He turned his head slightly. “We’re here.” It took me a moment to register. “Oh,” I said, managing a “thank you.” When I’d gotten in the car, Sophie had asked for my address, and I’d just blurted out the name of a random apartment complex. I arranged to meet Sophie next time and got out of the car. Aidan kept his eyes down, never once looking back at me. He didn’t linger for a moment; the car’s taillights vanished around the corner almost instantly. At the busy entrance to the complex, I wrapped my arms around myself and slowly sank to the ground. I don’t know how much time passed. Then, the familiar luxury car pulled up again, silent and imposing, right in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing the sharp, defined profile of his face. Aidan stared at me, his expression unreadable. “Get in.” 6 I’d expected Aidan to find a way to see me alone. I just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Too soon for me to prepare myself to face him. As we were locked in a stalemate, Aidan lifted a hand and lit a cigarette. I frowned instinctively. I hated it when he smoked. In the past, I would have snatched it from him without a word and stamped it out. And the Aidan back then was always so obedient. When I told him to quit, he never touched another one. He would never have been like this. He would never have sat there, shrouded in a pale haze of smoke, studying me so brazenly. I bit back my words, about to speak. The comments flooded my vision again: “What’s she hesitating for? Does she actually think he wants something from her?” “He’s known she was back for a while. He just didn’t say anything in the car because he didn’t want Sophie to get the wrong idea.” “The only reason he’s seeing her alone is to warn her not to run her mouth in front of Sophie. He couldn’t care less about her.” I stood rooted to the spot, the silence heavy around me. It was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. The impulsive flicker of emotion I’d felt a moment ago was extinguished completely. I had no right to tell him what to do anymore. The hand resting on the car window, pale and elegant, dropped lazily. Aidan expressionlessly averted his gaze. As if remembering something, he crushed the cigarette with a flicker of derision. “You want to buy the apartment, don’t you? Get in. I’ll take you to see it.” 7 The ride was silent. Aidan showed no intention of speaking. But my mind was a chaotic mess of scrolling text. “Well, at least she knows her place. She took the back seat, knowing the passenger seat is for the girlfriend.” “He’s supposed to be warning her, so why is he taking her to their old place?” “Don’t worry, guys. He doesn’t know her real plan yet. Once she shows her true colors, he’ll be even more disgusted with her.” … When we arrived at the door, I couldn’t help but speak. “Don’t you have anything… to ask me?” Aidan’s hand, holding the key, paused. He glanced down at me, a brow raised, silently waiting for me to continue. I mustered my courage. “Like why I came back. How long I’m staying. Or… why I want to buy this apartment.” “Not interested.” Aidan looked away, his tone flat. “I don’t care who buys it. I’m erasing everything that has to do with you. As for why you’re back…” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and let out what sounded like a humorless chuckle. “You’re not planning to try and win me over again, are you?” I was silent for a beat. “What if I am?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393757”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was the vicious fake heiress, raised in a wealthy family. After I died, the man I grew up with, my supposed soulmate, plastered my intimate photos online, calling me a cheap tramp who only knew how to seduce men. Protesters swarmed my family home, cheering that I had gotten what I deserved. To distance themselves from my “taint,” my parents burned our entire villa to the ground overnight. They even fed my ashes to the dogs. Everyone said I deserved to die. But then, on the day of the real heiress’s lavish, live-streamed wedding to my childhood sweetheart… They received a wedding gift from me. 1 The grand wedding of Elle and Elliott was a star-studded affair. In the audience, my parents dabbed at their eyes, whispering, “Our Elle is finally getting married. Our precious girl.” My ghost hovered in the air, a familiar ache twisting in my chest. They used to dote on me just like that. Suddenly, someone in the crowd exclaimed, “They’re a perfect match! Elliott and Elle are made for each other.” “Right? Not like that Vera,” another voice sneered. “She occupied the role of the Vanderbilt family heiress for years, but she was always just a cheap fake. Even in death, she’s considered bad luck.” Elle, on the stage, seemed to hear my name. She paused, a faint, contemptuous smile playing on her lips. It’s true, I thought with a self-deprecating pang. I had stolen twenty years of her privileged life. She had every right to mock me. But then, Elle looked directly into the camera. “Actually,” she said, her voice clear and bright, “I have Vera to thank for something.” “She prepared a wedding gift for us.” A gift? From me? My spectral form froze mid-air. I didn’t know anything about a gift. Before I could even process it, the crowd erupted. “She’s dead! What kind of stunt is this? So manipulative!” “She was arrogant and cruel in life, and now she wants to disgust us from beyond the grave!” “She was so vicious. It’s probably a curse or something.” My mother’s face turned ashen. She shot to her feet. “She spent her whole life trying to steal everything from Elle! Why would she send a gift?!” “Throw it out! Get rid of it! We can’t let something so unlucky tarnish Elle’s wedding!” Elliott frowned, waving a dismissive hand. “Forget it. Let’s not even look. It can’t be anything good. Let’s just continue with the ceremony.” But Elle held up a hand, silencing the uproar. “Really? I, for one, would like to see what she sent.” My parents tried to object, but Elle had already opened the gift box. Inside was a thick journal. I recognized it. It was mine. But… hadn’t my parents burned all of my belongings? How did it end up here? Before I could dwell on it, Elle picked up the journal and began to read aloud. February 1st, 2024. The real daughter of the Vanderbilt family, Elle, is back. She’s dark and thin, and so timid. Mom and Dad said she suffered a lot out there, that I have to let her have her way in everything from now on. As she read, an image appeared on the massive screen behind her. It was Elle, wearing a faded plaid shirt and worn-out jeans. I had secretly taken that photo, hiding in a corner. Her hair was dry and yellowed, her eyes hollow. She was a world away from the radiant woman on the stage today. Elliott tore off his tie. “Turn it off! Who authorized this? The past is the past! Elle isn’t like that anymore!” “Exactly!” someone in the crowd chimed in. “Vera was so calculating! To keep such an ugly photo!” “So she resented Elle from the very first day she came back?” “It makes sense now! All the terrible things Vera did to Elle later on… it was all premeditated!” Hearing this, my parents’ anger boiled over. “If I had known she was so vicious,” my mother seethed, “I would have sent her away that very day!” 2 Their words were a bitter cocktail in my soul. To think a single photograph could brand me so vile. Elle paused, then continued reading. But she doesn’t seem to hate me. She wiped her sweaty palm on her jeans and reached out to shake my hand, but I pulled away. She froze, asking in a small voice if I didn’t like her. I was about to answer when Mom and Dad’s scolding exploded in my ears. Mom said, “It’s Elle’s first day back. Can you please drop the princess act for one second?” Dad said, “Do you have any idea what Elle has been through for the past twenty years? If it weren’t for the mix-up at the hospital, you would be the one who suffered!” I was stunned. Just the night before, they had promised that even with Elle back, they would still love me like their own daughter. I guess all it took was me not shaking her hand for them to reveal their true feelings. But… I only did it because I saw the calluses on her hands. I was afraid she would feel self-conscious. As she read that last line, a flicker of something—confusion? recognition?—crossed Elle’s face. She bit her lower lip. My mother, realizing what was being read, looked up sharply. “I… I might have said that. But she became so unreasonable later, I had to…” “If she was really thinking of Elle’s feelings, why didn’t she explain herself then? It sounds like she’s just making excuses for herself after the fact!” My father wrapped an arm around her, comforting her. “It’s over now. She’s dead. Her debt is paid.” Elliott frowned, cutting in. “It’s obvious she didn’t want to accept Elle. She was probably just scared of losing her position in the family!” Elle smiled faintly, saying nothing. She turned to the next page. March 15th, 2024. The page was accompanied by a photo of Elliott, kneeling on the ground, tying my shoelace. Elliott came to see me today. The first words out of his mouth were that he wanted to break off our engagement. He said now that the real heiress was back, his family couldn’t possibly let him marry a fake. But he used to tell me he wanted to marry me only because he loved me. Twenty years of knowing each other… was it all meaningless compared to a simple accident of birth? Why did he change the moment Elle came back? I ran after him, wanting to demand an explanation. But I overheard him on the phone with a friend. “Vera’s just a cheap knock-off,” he was saying. “She actually thinks she’s something special.” “She was fun to play with, but for a marriage alliance, you need the real thing.” The friend on the other end must have said something, because Elliott burst out laughing. “Yeah, it is a shame, though.” “Five years together, I treated her so well, and she wouldn’t even let me touch her. Acting like some untouchable ice queen.” “But that Elle… she looks like she’d be an easy catch.” So I finally learned. All his past devotion was a lie. It hurts so much. I thought about telling Mom and Dad. But whenever I brought up Elliott’s name, they assumed I was trying to steal him from Elle again. They never gave me a chance to speak. What about Elle, then? I can’t just watch her marry a scumbag like him, can I? But would she even believe me? Elle paused, her eyes darting toward Elliott. He swallowed hard, then blustered, “She must have been jealous that you were going to marry me! She just made all that up!” Elliott’s parents shot to their feet. “If my son really said those things,” his mother roared, “then how do you explain Vera drugging my son, trying to climb into his bed?” Whispers erupted from the crowd. “That’s right! On Elle’s birthday, Vera drugged Elliott’s drink, then had the gall to demand he marry her the next day! She can’t wash that stain away!” Elle nodded slowly. “Yes. Why would she do that?” 3 She turned the page. May 20th, 2024. Today is mine and Elle’s birthday. But Mom and Dad seem to have forgotten about me. They only bought one cake, for Elle. I’m not angry, though. It’s just cake. I don’t even like it. Elle must have seen me standing in the corner. She brought me a slice and said, “Happy birthday, sister.” I pretended to be disgusted and pushed it away. But my heart was pounding. I wanted so badly to wish her a happy birthday, too. Even so, she just smiled and said it was okay. In that moment, I thought she really was an angel. No wonder so many people love her. Later, I saw Elliott slip some powder into her drink. There was no time. Elle was about to drink it. I lunged forward, snatched the glass from her, and drank it all myself. I had just breathed a sigh of relief when Mom rushed over and slapped me across the face. I fell to the floor, but she was still fussing over Elle, asking if she was alright. Me… But Mom, why didn’t you ask me why I did it? In the end, Mom chose not to believe me. She had someone lock me in my room. I don’t know how much time passed. I was dizzy, I couldn’t even stand up straight. Through the haze, I saw Elliott. He pushed me onto the bed, his face a mask of fury. “I was so close to getting Elle, and you had to ruin it! “Since you’re so desperate, I’ll take care of you tonight!” I wanted to fight back. But then a thought crossed my mind. If this happened… could I force Elliott to marry me? Would that keep Elle safe? So, I stopped resisting. Later, I was woken by a splash of cold water. Elliott looked at me with disgust. “Why did you drug me?! And you dared to lie and say you were Elle! You made me…” “But you can forget it. My heart belongs only to Elle.” Mom and Dad wouldn’t listen to my explanation either. They pointed at me, shouting, “You filthy thing! To think you’d use such low-life tricks to stop Elle from marrying into the Willis family!” “Get out of our house! Go back to your real family! You are not welcome here anymore!” I thought being forced like that was the most painful thing in the world. I was wrong. This, right here, was worse. As Elle’s voice faded, someone in the crowd stammered, “So… it was Elliott who drugged the drink? Vera was just trying to save Elle?” “Vera was framed?!” Elliott frantically waved his hands. “Nonsense! She’s delusional! It’s all in her head!” I saw my parents, frozen in their seats, their lips trembling. “Elle… Elle was going to marry Elliott anyway…” my mother whispered, her voice cracking. “It was inevitable. So what if it happened?” “But Vera, that ungrateful wolf! She only wanted to stay in this family for the money!” Elle let out a small, bitter laugh. “For the money?” She turned the page. I didn’t have time to feel wronged. I fell to my knees, begging them not to send me back. There was only my eighty-year-old grandfather there. He couldn’t even afford to buy Elle a decent dress. What could he possibly give me? I really don’t want to go back. Hearing this, my mother seemed to find validation in her own words. A look of relief washed over her face. My father’s expression remained stony. “Vera is a gold-digger. All the kindness we showed her was wasted!” The online comments flooded the screen. “Even if your grandfather is poor, he’s still your family! Calling you an ungrateful wolf is right!” “So disgusted by your own family? Did you ever think that’s the life you were supposed to have?” Elle’s grip on the journal tightened. “Then why was she so desperate for money? Let’s keep reading.” August 9th, 2024. I can’t hold on much longer. I asked Mom and Dad for twenty thousand. Mom asked with disgust where all my allowance went. I told her the truth. I gave it all to Grandpa. She scoffed. “Stop pretending. You didn’t even want to go back to him, and you expect me to believe you sent him money?” “Unlike you, my Elle has been quietly helping him this whole time. Don’t tell me you’re trying to steal credit for that, too?” In that moment, I knew. No matter what I said, Mom would never believe me. When did things get like this? I don’t know. But… I don’t have much time left to live anyway. If the cancer didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t have asked. I hope Grandpa never finds out about me. Elle once said he was a good, good man. If he knew, he would probably move heaven and earth to save me. I don’t want that. He’s already so old. It’s so hard. Forget it. I’ll never ask again. Finally, someone in the audience realized the gravity of what Elle was reading. “Did you say… Vera? Cancer?!” “So she didn’t want to go back to not be a burden on her grandfather?!” The live chat exploded, with people starting to defend me. At her table, my mother clutched her chest and shot to her feet. “She… she did say she wasn’t feeling well… but…” Elliott’s parents had had enough. “That’s it! This is a wedding! Why are we talking about a dead person?” Elliott’s father boomed. Elliott tried to take Elle’s hand, to stop her from reading. But she pulled away from his touch, her eyes red as she looked at my mother. There was a hint of mockery in her voice. “Don’t you want to know what she went through? Why she became the person she was?” My mother choked back a sob and sank back into her chair. “What does it matter now… She was just…” Elle took a deep breath. “Then let’s continue. Let’s see how Vera changed.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393774”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My neighbor abandoned her cat. I adopted him. He was never affectionate with me, but he was always winding around my husband’s legs, a constant, purring presence. That’s when I started paying attention. One night, when my husband, Mark, claimed he was working late, I knocked on my neighbor’s door. She answered, one hand resting protectively on her slightly protruding belly. “Chloe? What can I do for you this late?” The challenge, the sheer triumph in her eyes, told me everything I needed to know. When Mark tiptoed home in the dead of night, he found both our parents sitting in the living room. And on the coffee table, a set of divorce papers. 1. “A divorce?” “Chloe, are you serious?” Mark’s voice was incredulous. “You’re throwing away seven years of marriage because of a stupid cat?” He didn’t even bother to read them. He snatched the papers and threw them at the Ragdoll cat, who was currently rubbing against his leg. “If you don’t sign, we’ll settle this in court,” I said quietly, then turned and walked back to our bedroom. Our parents stared, bewildered. Just last month, we were the picture of a happy couple, as affectionate as newlyweds. How had things escalated to divorce so quickly? Mark hung his head, trying to hide the panic in his eyes, his hands clenched into trembling fists. His parents rushed to block my path. “Chloe, you can’t just accuse Mark of cheating because of a cat! Some cats are just naturally drawn to men. What does that prove?” his mother pleaded. “We’ve all seen how good Mark is to you. When you had that terrible flu, he stayed by your bedside for 48 hours straight. When you had that fall, he sold company shares, moved heaven and earth to assemble the best medical team money could buy.” “Does all of that mean less to you than one cat?” My own parents chimed in, their voices thick with disappointment. “Where are you going to find a husband as good as Mark?” my father asked. “Chloe, you can’t have children after your accident,” my mother added, her words a sharp sting. “The fact that Mark doesn’t hold that against you is a blessing. You need to be realistic.” Suddenly, Mark grabbed my hand, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with a desperate, all-consuming love. “Honey, we dated for two years, we’ve been married for five. We faced down death together and never let go. How can you let a cat come between us?” “Is this because I’ve been so busy with the company crisis lately? Do you feel neglected?” “I swear, from now on, no matter how busy I am, I’ll be home on time every night. I’ll be here for you…” The room was filled with people who, on the surface, all loved me. My in-laws, educated and kind, who had always treated me like their own. My parents, more pragmatic, who saw my marriage to Mark as a ticket to a secure life. But my face remained a mask of cold resolve. I pulled my hand from Mark’s grasp. “Let me say this one more time: if you don’t sign these tonight, we’re going to court.” “This is the last shred of dignity I’m offering you.” His eyes were bloodshot. “Chloe, how can you be so cruel?” “It’s simple,” I said, my voice flat. “Because I don’t care about you anymore. Not one bit.” Done with the pointless drama, I walked to the front door and left. The disappointed sighs of our parents followed me out, but I didn’t hesitate. I just walked faster. The Ragdoll slipped out of the open door behind me. Later, as I sat numbly on a park bench, I saw the cat chasing after its former owner, who was taking out the trash. The woman, Hailey, kicked at its head in disgust, but the cat stubbornly refused to leave. I couldn’t watch. I went over to intervene, but the Ragdoll arched its back and hissed at me, claws extended. Hailey let out a laugh. “You see, Chloe? People are just like cats.” “When someone doesn’t like you, they just don’t like you. You can’t force it.” I saw the taunt in her eyes, the smug superiority. I glanced at her pregnant belly, and it all clicked into place. “You’re right,” I said. “You can’t keep a creature that’s determined to be unfaithful. Whether it’s a cat or a person.” Just then, Mark found us, his face a mask of anxiety and panic. But it wasn’t for me. “Chloe, can you just act normal for once?” he snapped. “I told you, the cat liking me is just a coincidence! It has nothing to do with our neighbor! It’s one thing to throw a tantrum at home, but to come down here and harass a pregnant woman? Have you lost your mind?” He didn’t even know what had happened. He just saw me with Hailey and instantly assumed I was the jealous wife causing a scene. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I realized that even if Mark still loved me, that love couldn’t hold a candle to whatever he felt for Hailey. 2. Afraid I would cause more trouble for Hailey, Mark practically dragged me back to our apartment. His parents’ faces were grim. They had read the terms of the divorce agreement and had already thrown it in the trash. “Chloe, what is the meaning of this?” his father demanded. “We’ve treated you well, haven’t we? It’s bad enough you want a divorce over a cat, but you want to leave Mark with nothing?” “Have we been so kind to you that you think you can just walk all over us?” My own parents were red with shame. “You’ve gone too far, Chloe,” my dad said. “We can’t support you when you’re being so unreasonable.” I offered no explanation, just repeated my ultimatum. “If you don’t agree, I’ll see you in court.” A man who cheats deserves to lose everything. Mark’s voice trembled with desperation. “Chloe, is this about money? You know the passwords to all my cards. You can spend whatever you want. Isn’t that enough?” Not all his cards. Or, it used to be. Now, Mark had a few new cards, and I could only imagine how much he’d spent on Hailey behind my back. I was about to point this out when there was a knock on the door. Hailey stood there, the picture of innocence. “I’m so sorry to bother you all this late,” she said sweetly. “Downstairs, I saw Mr. Crawford and Chloe arguing because of me, and I just felt so terrible.” “Chloe wasn’t really harassing me,” she continued, her voice soft and apologetic. “She was just taking her anger out on the cat. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. It’s my fault. She can hit me or yell at me, it’s okay.” My in-laws’ faces darkened. “Chloe, you abused an animal and bullied this young woman?” My parents looked at me with profound disappointment. “Chloe, what has happened to you?” None of them noticed the one, glaring slip-up. “Mr. Crawford?” I asked, a slow, cold smile spreading across my face. “So, you do know my husband, Hailey. You must have been biting your tongue all those times we passed in the hallway and you pretended not to know him.” Hailey’s head snapped down, her eyes wide like a frightened deer. She darted a panicked glance at Mark, a silent plea for help. Her right hand, adorned with a sparkling diamond ring, went to her stomach. The fear and affection in Mark’s eyes were there for only a second before he smoothed his expression over. “I do know Hailey. She’s a junior employee at my company. We’ve crossed paths a few times.” “I didn’t think she was important enough to mention, and I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he said, his tone placating. “Chloe, honey, don’t overthink things.” I had to laugh. If he had nothing to hide, why was he so afraid of me “overthinking” things? And how could a “junior employee” afford a luxury penthouse in the city center? Seeing my silence, Mark’s father stood up, his voice booming. “Chloe, if you have proof, I won’t say a word about the divorce! But if you think you can clean out my son based on nothing but suspicion, I’m telling you right now, you are dreaming!” Before I could reply, Hailey spoke up, blinking innocently. “Leave him with nothing? Chloe, don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?” “Even though you’ve never been to the office, every employee there knows how much the CEO adores his wife. Everyone knows how much he loves you. Chloe… could it be that you have another man? Are you just using me as an excuse to try and take all of Mark’s money?” At her words, I didn’t hesitate. I swung my hand and slapped her hard across the face. “Watch your mouth,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “Mark may put up with your nonsense, but I won’t.” 3. For a split second, Mark’s hands clenched into fists, his eyes burning with a rage I had never seen directed at me. Then, he composed himself and turned to Hailey, his voice full of concern. “Are you okay?” Hailey was already crying, her eyes red. “I’m fine. I shouldn’t have said that. Chloe was right to hit me. Please, don’t be angry because of me.” In seven years together, Mark had never once raised his voice to me. Now, he gritted his teeth. “Apologize to Hailey. Bow and apologize.” I gave a disdainful snort. “Why should I? She deserved it.” Suddenly, Mark raised his hand and, with all his might, slapped himself across the face. The sound cracked through the tense silence. Half of his face immediately began to swell. “I’ll take that slap for her,” he said, his voice strained. “Chloe, I’m begging you. Please, stop this.” “Is that it?” he asked, his voice softening into a twisted kind of sympathy. “After your accident, has being cooped up at home all these years… has it affected you mentally? I promise, no matter what’s wrong, I’ll never hold it against you.” “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. Just please, stop talking about divorce, okay?” “No,” I said without a moment’s hesitation. “It’s impossible.” “Mark, being with you for another second makes my skin crawl. It’s suffocating.” His concessions, my stubbornness. Our parents had reached their limit. Mark’s parents stood up, their faces cold with fury. “If you insist on a divorce, fine! We’ll see you in court! But don’t think you’ll get a single penny from our family. We will spend whatever it takes to make sure you are the one who leaves with nothing!” My own parents just shook their heads. “Chloe, you’re the one in the wrong here. When you end up with nothing, you’ll regret this.” But was I the one in the wrong? No. The contact I had cultivated inside Mark’s company soon sent me a video file. I was watching it in the guest room when Mark knocked and entered. To prevent him from seeing it and deleting the evidence, I quickly slipped on my wireless earbuds and put my phone away. “Chloe, what’s the point of this divorce?” he asked, his voice weary. “You can’t have children. No family with my kind of standing will ever want to marry you.” I looked at him and laughed coldly. “Mark, do you remember why I can’t have children?” It was because of an accident two years into our marriage. Mark loved thrills, extreme sports, and he always insisted I join him. One day, while rock climbing, he slipped. I risked everything to grab him, and while he managed to find a foothold, my strength gave out. I was the one who fell. Everyone said Mark was a saint for staying with me. He had literally put my life on the line. Now, he looked away, a guilty silence hanging between us. Through my earbuds, I could hear his voice, intertwined with Hailey’s flirtatious laughter. “Mark, that parachute jump was amazing! I had so much fun,” Hailey’s voice cooed. “But maybe having me move in next door is a little too risky, don’t you think?” A series of soft, wet kissing sounds followed. Then, Mark’s voice, low and conspiratorial. “That’s what makes it exciting.” “Chloe’s gotten so boring these last few years. Only you, Hailey… only you make me feel alive.” 4. Once I had gathered enough evidence, I went to Mark’s company to investigate its financial state, making sure he couldn’t hide or transfer any assets. The senior partners knew who I was and cooperated fully. Only Hailey, emboldened by Mark’s favor, tried to obstruct me at every turn. She had someone lead me to an outdoor smoking area. With no one else around, she dropped the act. “Chloe, why can’t you just be a good little housecat, kept and cared for?” “A useless woman like you who can’t even have children… Mark keeping you around is an act of charity. Why do you have to make a scene and embarrass yourself?” I laughed. “Fine. I won’t divorce him.” Hailey blinked, confused. “What?” My laugh grew louder. “You’re not just a homewrecker, you’re an idiot. You came to provoke me because you wanted me to divorce him as soon as possible so you could take my place, right?” “The joke’s on you. When you do take my place, all you’ll inherit is a mountain of debt. You’ll get nothing.” “Remember that Ragdoll cat? Your fate will be even worse than his.” Hailey must have seen what happened to the cat. Starving, it had come back to my door, begging for food. I shut the door in its face. It was forced to fight with strays for scraps, and was now covered in infected bites, a pathetic, miserable creature. Perhaps the cat’s fate struck a nerve. Hailey’s face twisted in rage, and she lunged at me. “You’re the one who’s not wanted! You’re the useless trash about to be thrown out! How dare you curse me?” Disgusted, I sidestepped her easily. She lost her balance and fell to the ground, clutching her stomach and sobbing. The commotion drew a crowd. When Mark heard what happened, he rushed back to the office, grabbed my arm, and tried to force me to apologize to Hailey. I shook him off. “She fell on her own. The security camera will prove it.” Mark gritted his teeth. “Don’t be ridiculous. There are no cameras in the smoking area.” I was about to tell him that there was one I had installed, but Hailey started crying louder. “Mr. Crawford, it’s not Chloe’s fault! It’s mine! I shouldn’t have moved in next door and caused this misunderstanding.” “Please, can you talk to her for me? I don’t care how she treats me, but she can’t hurt the baby!” Mark’s eyes widened in horror. “Chloe, how could you? You’d attack an unborn child? The baby is innocent!” “Innocent?” I sneered. “We don’t even know whose bastard it is—” Before I could finish, Mark’s hand cracked across my face. “You’re unbelievable!” he roared. “You brought this on yourself, Chloe! Don’t blame me for being ruthless! You want to sue? Fine! I’ll have the court date set for tomorrow.” “My family doesn’t need a twisted, inhuman monster like you!” In that moment, we weren’t a couple anymore. We were mortal enemies. And everyone, including my own parents, was on his side. Before the hearing, they were still trying to talk sense into me. “Chloe, are you sure you’re not the one who had an affair?” my mother asked. “The internet is full of stories about you, saying you’re a gold-digger who cheated on her husband. Your reputation is ruined.” “Please, wake up before it’s too late,” my father begged. Mark’s parents wouldn’t even look at me. “A snake is a snake. You can’t change its nature.” “Mark,” his mother said, “when she’s left with nothing and comes crawling back to you, don’t you dare be soft.” Mark himself looked down at me as if granting a final mercy. “Admit you were wrong now, and I can pretend none of this ever happened.” “Otherwise, you’ll end up homeless and alone for the rest of your life.” I said nothing. I just looked at the judge, waiting for the proceedings to begin. The judge’s first words wiped the confident smirk off Mark’s face and sent a wave of shocked disbelief through the courtroom. “What… How could this be?” “Mark, what have you been doing behind our backs?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393791”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When my husband’s depression flared up again, I exploded. I smashed every door in the house. Finally, I slammed the hammer down in front of him and spat out two words: “We’re done.” He shattered on the spot, clinging to my leg, his cries raw and desperate. “I’m sorry, Bonnie, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have had an episode. I lost control.” “I’ll get help, I promise. I’ll take my medicine.” “You’re all I have. I’m begging you, please, don’t leave me…” His eyes were red, his body wracked with sobs, so fragile he looked like a gust of wind could break him. A pathetic, love-sick fool who couldn’t live without his wife. A far cry from the confident, commanding CEO of Brooks Enterprises. I felt nothing. I lifted my stiletto heel and drove it into his chest. “Are you deaf? I said I want a divorce!” 1 My shout seemed to snap the swarm of relatives out of their stupor, but none of them dared to intervene. Only my husband’s father, Richard Brooks, stepped forward to take control. “Bonnie, calm down. Even if you want a divorce, you must have a reason.” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “A reason? The reason is he changed the keypad on the front door to a lock and key.” A murmur of confusion rippled through the room. Richard’s face darkened. “Bonnie, if you hadn’t gotten pregnant with a daughter instead of a son, he wouldn’t have gotten depressed in the first place! He wouldn’t be so insecure!” “This ridiculous excuse for a divorce—I don’t accept it!” My husband, Julian, pointed a trembling finger at me, his eyes rimmed with red. I couldn’t even be bothered to look at him. I snapped my briefcase shut. “Sign it,” I said, my voice flat. “Don’t make me force you.” Ever since Julian changed the lock, he’d started locking himself in the bathroom, even to shower. I had to call him just to get into my own home. Sometimes, he’d be in there for three, four hours. I lost count of the number of times I was eaten alive by mosquitoes, or soaked to the bone in the rain until I caught a fever. Anyone who saw would have thought I’d done something wrong, that I was being punished. The neighbors came and went, their gossiping eyes like daggers in my skin and in my heart. I couldn’t take the humiliation. But every time I brought up divorce, Julian would slap me, hard, his eyes blazing. “Is it so hard to make a phone call? You promised you’d respect me for the rest of our lives!” If I dared to talk back, he’d use his depression as a shield, accusing me of having no compassion for a sick person. And now, today, at this family gathering, in front of all his nosy relatives, he was putting on this act of a devoted, heartbroken lover. It was disgusting. I was done with the abuse. I was done being his punching bag. I threw the divorce papers on the table and walked out. The entire family stared, their eyes darting between a trembling Julian and my resolute back. I could hear their whispers, wondering how I, the woman who had always put Julian first, could leave him over something so trivial. Julian stared, stunned, then reached out to grab me. His father started to rise from his chair. But before I could leave, Julian’s psychiatrist, Dr. Tessa Hale, pushed me back into my seat. “Ms. Davis, your husband is suffering from severe depression. He has extreme insecurity.” “He only locks the door to protect himself! How can you, as his wife, be so cruel?” “It’s because of you, constantly stirring up trouble, that his condition keeps getting worse!” The relatives immediately sided with her. “Dr. Hale is right!” “She’s just taking her own bad mood out on her husband!” “For a gold digger, she sure has a temper. Julian is the only one who would put up with her. She’d be nothing without him!” Julian shot a look that silenced them, then turned his gaze to me, his voice softening into a placating purr. “Bonnie, baby, I’m sorry.” “I know my illness has made you suffer. You never used to raise your voice at me. For the sake of our ten years together, can’t you just calm down?” “Is it your mother’s medical bills again? Don’t be embarrassed to ask. Your mother is my family, too.” The onlookers watched Julian’s groveling performance with murmurs of approval, but their looks toward me grew sharper. “Bonnie, for a sick man, Julian treats you incredibly well. You should be grateful,” one of them said. “Have we ever not taken care of your mother’s affairs? Just tell us how much you need. We’ll find a way,” Richard added, leaning on his cane. I knew what they were thinking. That I was too proud, too principled to ask for more money, so I was resorting to this drama instead. I met Julian’s eyes as he reached for my hand. I sidestepped his touch, my voice cold and detached. “There’s nothing left between us. Let’s end it.” The room fell silent. Julian rushed forward, grabbing me, his voice cracking. “Bonnie, don’t lie to me…” I shoved him away, taking two steps back. “It’s the truth.” “Let’s just end it here. With some dignity.” Julian stood frozen in shock. From the stroller, our daughter began to wail. I ignored everyone and turned to leave. Crash. A glass shattered at my feet. It was Tessa. She lunged forward, slapping the divorce papers against my chest, her finger jabbing at me. “Bonnie, are you even human?” “Julian gave up a scholarship to study abroad just to marry you! He loves you so much! And this is how you repay him?” “Now that he’s sick, you’re just going to abandon him and your daughter?” “You ungrateful bitch!” I looked at the frantic, sputtering woman and found it all rather amusing. “Dr. Hale, my husband and I are getting a divorce. What does that have to do with you?” Tessa’s spittle flew as she grabbed my collar, screaming. “You still call him your husband!” “You don’t know what’s good for you! Do you have any idea how much money the Brooks family has sunk into your half-dead mother?” “If Julian didn’t pity you, didn’t love you, your mother would have been dead and buried long ago!” I kicked her, hard. She stumbled back. “Get lost. A family gathering is no place for a shrink to be meddling.” Julian shoved past me, rushing to help Tessa up from the floor. “Bonnie, why are you taking your anger out on her? She’s innocent!” “I’m taking it out on the bitch who can’t keep her mouth shut!” I shot back, my resolve hardening as I glanced at the tender scene on the floor. The relatives’ accusations grew louder, a chorus of voices negating my ten years of devotion. They called me a thankless viper, moaning about how much Julian had suffered by marrying me. Tessa patted Julian’s hand. “It’s alright, Julian. It was my fault.” “I’m an outsider. I shouldn’t have judged Ms. Davis. Don’t get upset, you’ll make yourself sick.” She shook her head, her voice thick with feigned sorrow. “How could it be your fault?” Julian’s eyes were overflowing with adoration for her. He looked up at me, his voice choked with tears. “Bonnie, must you embarrass everyone like this?” “You know I love you. The family is all here. Can’t you just give me some face? We can talk about this at home.” His tears fell, one by one, onto Tessa’s chest. I could only laugh. He cried harder. The relatives rushed to comfort him. His performance cast me as the villain of the century. “Bonnie, you’ve taken good care of Julian all these years.” “I’ve seen your dedication and your filial piety.” “Just tell us the truth. What really happened? If it’s our family’s fault, we won’t shirk responsibility.” Richard limped over, leaning on his cane, trying to reason with me. But I remained stone-faced, unmoved. “This divorce,” I said flatly, “is happening.” Richard coughed, his face flushing a deep red with anger. Julian scrambled up from the floor, grabbing my hand, pleading. “Bonnie, don’t go.” When I didn’t react, he roared. “You must be cheating on me!” I met his gaze calmly, saying nothing. The cane slammed against the floor. “Bonnie!” Richard bellowed. “Everything you have, every piece of clothing on your back, came from the Brooks family! And you still have a sick mother to support!” “Live a quiet life, or leave with nothing. The choice is yours.” “I suggest you think it over carefully. You have two days.” It was meant to be terrifying. The onlookers’ faces were masks of anticipation, waiting for me to admit defeat. I shook Julian’s hand off me. “I don’t need two days. I can give you an answer right now.” “I, Bonnie Davis, and Julian Brooks, are getting a divorce today. If you don’t agree, then just wait for the special gift I have for you.” With that, I walked out of the Brooks house without a backward glance. The moment I got in my car, my childhood friend, Alex, sent me a few videos. They were all from the security camera at my front door. In the videos, every day, just before I got home from work, a figure would emerge from my house. The figure would then provocatively wave a different pair of lace panties at the camera. This whole drama about the lock? It was all a smokescreen. The real fuse was this endless stream of taunting videos. Two days was too long. I just wanted to send them all to hell as quickly as possible. The next morning, at the crack of dawn, I went back to the house to pack. When I opened the door, Tessa was in the living room, rocking our daughter’s cradle. Julian’s face went pale. He tried to compose himself, but his voice stuttered. “Dr. Hale… we had an appointment… for my… my therapy.” I ignored them and went straight to the bedroom. I was only there for one thing: the jade pendant my mother had given me to present to my husband. Julian no longer deserved it. Before I could even step into the bedroom, Tessa pushed the cradle in front of me, blocking my path, a smug look on her face. “Ms. Davis, I’m so glad you came home.” “The baby is so young. She can’t be without her mother.” “Come and see your daughter.” She tried to pull me towards the cradle. I shook her off, but she grabbed me again. I’d had enough. I shoved her away. “Get lost,” I snarled. I quickly went into the room, pulled open the nightstand drawer, and took out the jade pendant. Tessa followed, relentless, trying to snatch it from my hand, but she missed. “You think you’re worthy of something from the Brooks family?” I shoved her hard. She stumbled backward a few steps. Suddenly, the sound of a crash and a baby’s scream filled the air. Tessa was on the floor. Next to her, the cradle was overturned. Julian rushed in, saw the scene, and immediately rounded on me. “Bonnie! If anything happens to my daughter, I will never forgive you!” he roared, scooping up the baby and frantically checking her for injuries. “Julian, it’s all my fault,” Tessa whimpered from the floor. “I just thought the baby missed her mommy, but Ms. Davis didn’t care. She… she pushed us.” While I was distracted, Julian snatched the jewelry box from my hand and smashed it on the floor with all his might, his eyes blazing red. “For this piece of junk! You’d hurt your own flesh and blood?” My mind went blank. I only cared about the pendant. Thankfully, the box was sturdy. The jade was unharmed. Tessa screamed at me from behind. “You’re not a fucking human being! Your own daughter falls and you don’t even care! You go for a stupid piece of rock! Is that jade more important than your daughter’s life?” Julian righted the cradle, his tear-filled eyes fixed on me. “Bonnie, you better pray our daughter is okay!” “Take your trash and get out of my house!” “And never come back!” “After the court case tomorrow, I’m not just taking everything from you, I’m going to ruin your entire family!” “Get out!” He was like a madman, smashing things as he yelled. I just calmly clutched the box and left that toxic place. I hadn’t even left the neighborhood when Alex called and told me to check the trending topics online. A tidal wave of hate washed over me. They called me a gold-digging slut. A manipulative leech who only preyed on rich men. A monster who would choose an illegitimate child over her own daughter. I was branded with a thousand sins. AI-generated images were woven into the articles, making it all seem real. “Get everything about my mother taken down,” I told Alex. “The rest of it? Sue them.” I hung up and let the storm rage. After lunch, I announced a livestream for that afternoon. Julian called me over a hundred times. I didn’t answer. Finally, he showed up outside Alex’s building with a banner and a megaphone, the noise deafening. “Bonnie, the internet is tearing you apart!” “Going live won’t help! If you just apologize and repent, I’m willing to give you another chance!” I watched him from the floor-to-ceiling window above, my expression cold. Tessa snatched the megaphone, her voice oozing with false concern. “Julian said he’s willing to forgive you! Why make things harder for yourself? A livestream will only make it worse!” “Just admit you’re wrong! Your mother can still be saved!” Richard was there too, sitting under a parasol. “Bonnie,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Young people shouldn’t be so impulsive. What woman in her right mind would divorce her husband for changing a door lock?” Their words were nothing but threats to me. I watched the second hand complete its final rotation. The livestream started. As expected, the comments were a torrent of abuse. Not to be outdone, Julian started his own livestream from his company’s official account and requested to connect with me. The screen split in two. “Bonnie, since you refuse to repent, don’t blame me for what comes next.” On Julian’s side of the screen, a slideshow began: my spending records at high-end private clubs, and a string of fabricated, filthy chat logs. [Wow, what a slut! So dirty!] [Poor Julian! I support the divorce!!] [I’m a lawyer, and this bitch is definitely leaving with nothing!] “Well, let’s let the good people of the internet be the judge today!” Julian said, smugly fanning himself behind a pair of sunglasses. I let out a cold laugh, turned up the AC a notch, and said calmly, “Eight hundred and ninety-one.” Julian froze, his fan faltering. He quickly started fanning himself again, faster this time. “Don’t start quoting legal statutes. You don’t even know any.” “Are they legal statutes, Julian?” Alex, standing beside me, couldn’t hold back a laugh. The gift was about to be unwrapped.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393808”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My father, the Duke, was executed, his estate seized. I, a lady of noble birth, was sold to a brothel. In my desperate struggle, I clawed at the worn leather breeches of a passing hunter. “Please,” I begged, “buy me!” The man looked down, his gaze steady and intense. “I am a poor man. My brothers and I have no coin for wives. If I buy you, you must be a wife to all three of us. Do you consent?” My eyes widened in shock. But before the darkness claimed me, I nodded. I expected a life of endless toil and childbirth. I never imagined that they would look past my disfigured face and cherish me with all their hearts. The only hardship was their age. All three were in the prime of their virile youth. On the bed, each was like a wolf. It reached a point where I began to fear the sunset. Because when night fell, I knew I would be claimed by one of the three brothers, devoured and left too weak to even leave the bed. 1. When I awoke from the blackness, several voices echoed around me. “Brother, when will our wife awaken?” “She’s been asleep so long. Isn’t she hungry?” I blinked my eyes open, disoriented, and met a pair of dark, fathomless eyes. It was him. The hunter I had begged to buy me. Before I could speak, he reached out, his strong hands helping me sit up from the rough wooden pallet. “You’re awake. You should eat something.” Only then did I take in my surroundings. I was in a small, dilapidated hovel with a thatched roof. Three towering, powerfully built men stood in the cramped space, their gazes fixed on me. The tiny hut felt completely filled by their presence. Remembering the terms of my purchase, my breath hitched, and a wave of shame washed over me. I clenched my fists. These three brothers… they were to be my husbands? It is said that a good woman does not take a second husband. And here I was, taking three at once. If my mother and father could see me from the afterlife, they would surely curse the day they bore such a shameless daughter. But after trying to end my own life once, I found I did not have the courage to try a second time. It was the only reason I still clung to this wretched existence. I closed my eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Rosalba, I told myself, it could be worse. You could have been sold to the filthiest whorehouse in the city. To be a wife to three brothers… this is a blessing by comparison. Besides, though my first glance had been brief, I’d seen their faces. They lacked the refined grace of the gentlemen in the Capital, but each was ruggedly handsome in his own right, with a strong, tall build. If not for their crushing poverty, men who looked like them would have had no trouble finding wives. I should be grateful they were the ones who had bought me. But still… looking at their formidable physiques, could my body truly endure being a wife to all three? As I worried, the hunter who had bought me spoke to his brothers. “Caelan, go fetch her a bowl of porridge.” “Owen, go heat some water for a bath.” The two younger brothers nodded at their elder’s command and immediately left the hut. Once they were gone, the man’s deep gaze settled on me again. I nervously clutched the rough fabric of my tunic. He simply tucked the worn blanket around me. “My name is Rhys. I am the eldest. Owen is the second, and Caelan is the youngest. You’ve seen our situation.” “There are just the three of us. We have no land, only this hut. No father would give his daughter to a house like this.” “The silver I earned a few days ago selling a deer hide… I was going to use it to pay the apprentice fee for Caelan to learn carpentry.” “But you begged me to buy you, and we are in need of a woman in the house. So I made the choice to buy you as our wife.” “From now on, the three of us will treat you well. As long as we have food in our mouths, you will not starve. But I expect you to fulfill your duties as a wife.” My voice was a raw whisper. “I understand.” In truth, I had grabbed Rhys’s leg as a last, desperate gamble. I never imagined he would buy me for such a purpose. After all, I had a large, gruesome scar on my forehead from where I’d slammed my head against a stone wall in my suicide attempt. After the brothel madam sold me to a slaver for a pittance, he had paraded me through town, trying to offload me, but no one was willing to buy a disfigured woman. 2. Soon, Caelan returned, carefully carrying a bowl of steaming porridge. His eyes, when they met mine, held no disgust. Instead, they shone with a bright, almost pleading light. “Wife, you must be starving. Here, eat.” The porridge was thick and rich with shreds of meat, cooked until it was soft. I hadn’t eaten a proper meal since being dragged north by the slaver. My stomach let out an embarrassing, loud growl. My face flushed with humiliation, and I couldn’t help but look down. Rhys turned to Caelan. “She has been hungry for a long time. Feed her slowly. I’m going into the mountains to see if I can hunt a pheasant to help her regain her strength.” He took his bow from the wall and strode out. Caelan nodded eagerly. “Don’t worry, Brother! I’ll take good care of our wife.” He scooped up a spoonful of porridge and held it to my lips, his face alight with anticipation. My hunger won out over my shame. I opened my mouth and swallowed greedily. The porridge was seasoned with coarse, bitter salt, but to me, it tasted sweeter than any honeyed cake from my past life. Seeing how ravenously I ate, Caelan’s face softened with pity. “Slow down, wife. There’s more in the pot.” Just as I finished the bowl, Owen returned with the hot water. He hauled in a wooden tub, large enough for a man to sit in, and placed it in the center of the hut, grinning at me with a flash of white teeth. “Wife, the water is hot. I’ll go fetch more to fill it. Just a moment!” I thought of how I hadn’t properly bathed in half a year, how I had intentionally smeared mud in my hair and on my skin to make myself repulsive in the brothel. I gave Owen a small nod. “Thank you… husband.” Hearing the word, Owen’s gaze burned into me, his grin threatening to split his face. “Of course, of course.” Caelan, not to be outdone, stared at me intently. “Wife, I want to hear you call me husband, too.” Heat crept up my neck, and I felt a fresh wave of unease. But remembering Rhys’s words, I whispered it. “Husband.” Both brothers beamed, their faces alight with pure joy, and then they bustled out, filled with a newfound energy to fetch more water. 3. Soon, the tub was full of steaming water. Seeing the two brothers standing there, staring at me expectantly, I felt a fresh wave of embarrassment. “Husbands… could you… could you please step outside for a moment?” They finally seemed to realize, their faces flushing. “Right! We’ll be just outside. Call if you need anything!” they stammered, backing out of the hut with obvious reluctance. Once the door was shut, I let out a long breath. I looked down at the still surface of the water. The reflection that stared back was a stranger: a woman with filthy, matted hair, a face grey with grime, and a terrifyingly ugly scar marring her forehead. The sight of it made even my own stomach churn. And yet, looking at this monstrous reflection, the brothers had smiled. There hadn’t been a trace of disgust or revulsion on their faces. For a moment, I felt a profound sense of confusion. In my old life, men like them would not have been worthy to tie my slippers. Now, it was clear that I was not worthy of them. But from their actions, it seemed they didn’t care how frightening my face was. Perhaps… perhaps I could truly build a life here. 4. I shed my ragged clothes and, using a small stool, carefully stepped into the tub. I knew they were poor, that every piece of furniture was likely hard-won. I was careful not to slip, terrified of breaking the tub. As my body sank into the water, the clear liquid quickly turned murky. My skin, beneath the layers of dirt, began to reveal its original pale fairness. Seeing the filth clouding the water around me, I stood up, wrapped the tattered rags around myself, and called out, my voice thick with embarrassment, “Husbands… would you mind helping me change the water?” The two of them answered immediately from outside. “Coming!” 5. A moment later, the door creaked open. As the brothers entered, their eyes immediately fixed on the bare skin of my arms. “Wife… you’re so pale,” Caelan breathed, his voice filled with awe. I clutched the rags tighter, unable to meet their intense gazes. Owen nudged him. “Caelan, help me with the tub! We can’t let our wife get cold.” Caelan snapped back to reality. Together, they lifted the heavy tub of dirty water, carried it outside to dump it, and quickly brought in a fresh one. After a second bath, I finally felt clean. I changed into a set of their old clothes, patched and worn but clean. After they’d disposed of the second tub of water, Caelan rushed back in, his eyes shining as he looked at me. “Wife, let me help you dry your hair.” I looked at my dripping hair and gave a hesitant nod. Caelan excitedly took the cotton cloth and gently began to squeeze the water from my long locks. His fingers, as they worked at the nape of my neck, would occasionally brush against my skin, sending a jolt of heat through my entire body, making me tense. Once my hair was mostly dry, the sun was high and warm. The brothers moved a stool into the small yard for me, so I could sit in the sun and let my hair dry completely. Their constant, attentive care was so thorough that for a fleeting moment, I felt as if I had returned to my old life of ease and comfort. Of course, it would have been better if their eyes didn’t gleam with such raw hunger. It made me feel like a lamb being watched by a pack of starving wolves.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393314”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Nine months pregnant, and the woman my husband, Cameron, had always idealized slipped me an abortion pill. The contractions tore through me, a searing agony, but he told me to just hold on. Because she—Sara—was supposedly in labor, too. To keep me from “stealing her thunder,” he had his housekeeper tie me upside down to a large cat tree in the corner of the room. “I heard that if the blood rushes to your head, it can delay labor,” he said, his voice cold and distant. “Even if you are about to give birth, you will wait. Sera’s child must be born first. I promised her our family would recognize her baby as the firstborn heir.” The drug-induced cramps were a vicious, twisting fire in my gut. I tumbled from the cat tree, landing in a heap on the floor, and crawled toward him, begging him to take me to a hospital. He drove his foot into my stomach. “Sara is the kindest person I know. She would never drug you,” he spat, his face a mask of fury. “But you, you venomous bitch, I bet you’re the one who slipped something into her food to make her go into premature labor!” His voice dripped with contempt. “You’re this far along anyway. What difference could a little pill possibly make?” Later, after he had seen Sara settled and comfortable in her private hospital suite, he called home. He asked his assistant if I was still “throwing a tantrum.” The assistant’s voice trembled. “Sir… Mrs. Thorne and the baby… they’re in the morgue.” The combination of the induced labor and the constant, throbbing pain of the contractions was overwhelming. My head swam from the lack of oxygen, the world turning grey at the edges as I dangled upside down. Bitter fluid rose in my throat, and with a wretched gasp, I fell, bringing the entire cat tree crashing down with me. I tried to curl around my belly, to shield our child, but a warm gush of liquid soaked through my clothes and pooled on the floor beneath me. My water had broken. I could feel the baby struggling inside me, a desperate, frantic push to be born. “Martha!” I screamed, my voice raw. “Martha, please, get me to a hospital! I’m not going to make it!” The housekeeper, Martha, strolled over, casually cracking sunflower seeds between her teeth. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the mess on the floor. “Honestly, what’s all this drama for?” she sneered. “Mr. Thorne isn’t even here to see it. You could die on this floor right now and no one would care. He put me here to watch you, you know. To stop you from constantly competing with Miss Sera. You should really learn your place.” She pinched her nose, grabbed me by the arms, and began to haul me back into an inverted position against the frame. A sudden, terrifying surge of blood flowed from between my legs. She slapped me hard across the face, then pulled out her phone. Cameron, having just finished arranging a team of specialists for Sara, answered with an impatient bark. “Give birth? Don’t be ridiculous. If her baby comes out before Sera’s, you can forget about your salary this year.” Martha shot me a triumphant smirk. As if to twist the knife, she added, “But Sir, she’s bleeding.” I collapsed again, and the pained groan that escaped my lips must have given Cameron a moment’s pause. “Alright, let her down for now. I’ll…” He was cut off by a sweet, delicate voice in the background. “Cameron, darling, the pain is gone. I don’t think I’m going to have the baby just yet.” It was Sara. “You know how it is with pregnancy, especially in the last month. You always think it’s time. A little bleeding is perfectly normal. Didn’t the doctor just say I probably have a while longer?” We were both nine months along, our due dates just days apart. Neither of us should have been in labor. But she had drugged me. She was the reason for these violent, premature contractions. Cameron, of course, believed her lies. His voice turned to ice once more. “Hospital? Forget it. You watch her. No one is to help her until I get back. She’s always trying to one-up Sera, even down to who gives birth first. It’s pathetic.” He hung up. Martha looked at me, her eyes glinting with malicious glee. “See? I told you. The master only has eyes for Miss Sera. He couldn’t care less if you live or die.” She glanced at her phone, a cruel smile spreading across her face. “Oh, and Miss Sera was so thoughtful. She was worried you’d be lonely, so she sent over her favorite pet to keep you company.” She held up a small, ventilated box. Inside, perched on a piece of bark, was a gleaming black spider with a blood-red hourglass on its abdomen. A black widow. 2 I watched in horror as the enormous spider crawled out of the box. Before I could even beg, Martha had bolted from the room, slamming the door behind her. Drawn by the metallic scent of blood, the spider scuttled toward me. I tried to scramble away, but my limbs were still tangled with the ropes binding me to the cat tree, and the agony in my belly was paralyzing. It crawled onto my calf, its tiny legs a million needles against my skin. A wave of revulsion washed over me. Forgetting the pain, forgetting everything but a primal need to survive, I tried to crush it. It seemed to sense my intent. In a flash, it leaped from my leg onto my swollen belly. A searing, venomous pain, like a hundred burning needles, plunged into me. A single, piercing scream was torn from my throat, and then… nothing. My strength was gone. My eyelids grew heavy. Through the darkening haze, I thought I saw Death himself, beckoning to me with a skeletal hand. Then, the door burst open and Martha reappeared, muttering curses under her breath. Seeing me motionless on the floor, a flicker of panic crossed her face. She shook me violently. “Hey! Hey!” The jolt brought me back. With the last ounce of my strength, I gasped, “The spider… it bit me. The baby will die.” Her grip on my hair loosened, only for her to slam my face against the floorboards. “You really are a pathological liar! I almost thought you were actually dead!” As I stared up at her, my vision blurring, her expression shifted from fear to a kind of ecstatic cruelty. “You shameless whore. You knew Mr. Thorne loved Miss Sera, but you still tried to trap him with a baby. I’ve been sick of watching you for months! Look at the disgusting state of you. No man would ever want to touch you!” After her tirade, she remembered the spider. “Where is Miss Sera’s precious pet? Hand it over, now!” She searched the room, but kept a careful distance from me. Her eyes landed on a dark, thick clot of blood on the floor, and she mistook it for the spider’s crushed body. Her face contorted with rage. She kicked me, hard, right in the stomach. “You have a death wish, you stupid bitch! You killed Miss Sera’s favorite pet! How can you be so toxic?” she shrieked. “No wonder Mr. Thorne hates you! You can stay here and rot. Keep her pet company in hell!” She made a quick phone call, her voice sycophantic, full of “yes, ma’am” and “of course.” Before leaving, she walked over to the thermostat and cranked the air conditioning down to its lowest setting. “A final instruction from Miss Sera,” she said with a chilling smile. “Her pet prefers a cold, damp environment. You two can enjoy it together.” The cold seeped into my bones. Shivering uncontrollably, I felt my consciousness slipping away into the black tide of pain. In the distance, I thought I heard a baby crying. My hands were bound so tightly I couldn’t even dream of holding him. It was Cameron who had insisted we keep the child, the product of a drunken, reckless night. He had once pressed his ear to my belly, his face filled with wonder as he felt the baby’s heartbeat. How had our dream of a family of three ended like this? Oh, my sweet baby, I thought, a final tear tracing a path through the grime on my cheek. In your next life, find a family that will love you. Don’t follow a mother like me into so much suffering. My own heartbeat was slowing, fading into a dull, distant drum. But then, the door creaked open again. The man who entered gasped when he saw me lying in a pool of blood and filth. I summoned a faint, desperate sound—a plea for help. He flinched back, his face pale with alarm. “I… I’m just a delivery guy. Mr. Thorne sent me to watch a… a Ms. Elara cook for his wife… Please don’t make this difficult for me.” My numb heart clenched with a fresh wave of pain. My husband didn’t believe I was in labor, and instead sent a stranger to make sure his dying wife cooked a meal for his mistress, the one surrounded by a legion of doctors. Even our very identities had been swapped in the eyes of the world. The bitter irony threatened to choke me. “I am Elara,” I whispered, my voice barely a thread of sound. “Please… take me to a hospital.” He stared at me, his eyes wide with terror and indecision. Finally, he fumbled for his phone. “Mr. Thorne? I’m at your house… but the woman you mentioned, Elara… she’s tied to a cat tree and she’s covered in blood. I think… I think she’s dying. Should I take her to the hospital?” Cameron’s cold laugh crackled through the phone. “She’s quite the actress, isn’t she? She’ll do anything to get out of cooking for Sera.” 3 His voice hardened with conviction. “Don’t you dare take her to a hospital. The housekeeper said she covered herself in chicken blood. You tell her, if she wants my forgiveness, she’ll get up and start cooking right now. Otherwise, I’m not coming home tonight.” The delivery guy tried to argue, but Cameron had already hung up. He knelt beside me, his brow furrowed. He looked from my pale face to the dark, spreading pool of blood. It was clearly not from a chicken. After a moment of intense internal struggle, he began to untie the ropes. “I don’t know what you did to make Mr. Thorne so angry,” he muttered, his hands shaking. “But this is wrong. I can’t just leave a pregnant woman to die.” He called for an ambulance. For a fleeting second, my heart dared to hope. But the paramedic’s words sent a new wave of ice through my veins. “If we don’t get the antivenom into you in the next ten minutes, you’re not going to make it.” The specific antivenom was incredibly rare. Getting it from anywhere else in the country was impossible. But after they entered my information into their system, the paramedic’s face lit up with sudden recognition. “Wait, you’re Mrs. Thorne! Cameron Thorne’s wife? That changes things! His family’s private hospital is sure to have it!” He immediately dialed Cameron’s number. “Mr. Thorne, your wife has been bitten by a black widow spider. Her condition is critical. We know your hospital received a shipment of the specific antivenom from overseas last year. You should still have some in stock, right?” Cameron exploded. “Elara, have you lost your mind? What black widow? The spider Sera has is a harmless species! Not only did you kill her pet, now you’ve hired an accomplice to lie for you?” I tried to shake my head, to scream the truth, but I had no voice left. The hospital had that antivenom because Sara had been bitten by her “harmless” pet once before. Cameron, frantic with worry, had spared no expense to procure it. He just didn’t know that she kept the venomous creature for one purpose: to use it on me. The paramedic tried to reason with him. “Sir, we are real paramedics. Your wife is six centimeters dilated. She’s about to give birth. If she doesn’t get this antivenom within ten minutes, we will lose them both.” “Then let them die!” Cameron snarled. “She’s always crying wolf, threatening to die over every little thing, and she’s still here, isn’t she? She’s just being dramatic. It’s my own child. Don’t you think I’d know when it’s supposed to be born? Stop calling me with this disgusting nonsense!” He hung up. In the background, I could hear Sara’s cloying voice, asking him to go buy her a slice of cake. The paramedic looked at me with pity. “We’ll take you to the Thorne private hospital anyway,” he decided. “The doctors there… they can’t just refuse to treat you.” But I should have known better. To keep Sara happy and her environment “peaceful,” Cameron had given a standing order: the hospital was not to admit any new maternity patients. Our ambulance was stopped at the gates, barred from entry. Through the window, I saw Cameron walking out, a cake box in his hand, talking on his phone. “That’s right. Sera needs quiet. I don’t care who they are or how much they offer, we’re not admitting anyone else.” I lay on the gurney, a fish gasping for air on a dry dock. Our eyes met. His driver, standing by the car, did a double-take. I no longer had the strength to speak, to even move. The driver hurried over to Cameron. “Sir,” he said, pointing toward the ambulance. “That woman they just brought in… I think it’s your wife.” Cameron glanced over. All he saw was a filthy, wretched woman, her face half-hidden by hair matted with blood and grime. He turned away in disgust. “Don’t be ridiculous. That shrew would never have the nerve to show up here.” “But sir, even if it’s not her,” the driver pleaded carefully, “she’s in a terrible state. Maybe we should just let them in?” Cameron shot the driver a look that could kill. “It sounds like you don’t want your job anymore. Is any woman’s life more important than Sera’s happiness? Even if it is Elara, she deserves it!” His final look was one of utter indifference, as if he were looking at a piece of roadkill. He turned his back on me and spoke tenderly into his phone. “Sera, my love, I got the cake you wanted. I’ll be right up.” The last ember of hope inside me died. Even at the gates of salvation, Cameron was the one to bar the door. But I refused to let this be the end. I wasn’t ready to die. I borrowed the paramedic’s phone and dialed a number I hadn’t dared to call in years. “Uncle Marcus,” I sobbed into the phone, my voice a broken whisper. “I was wrong. I was so wrong. Please… save me and my baby…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393330”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The year my career hit its peak was the year my long-lost brother returned to the country. To champion him, my own fiancée, Clarissa, didn’t hesitate to sever every lifeline to my career, diverting every project and every opportunity his way. The day I was framed and subsequently canceled by the entire world, Clarissa stood by, allowing him to publicly announce their rekindled romance. That first year of being blacklisted by Clarissa was the darkest of my life. I was 24, standing on the summit of a mountain I had climbed myself, only to be kicked into the abyss by my own brother, Nathaniel. The world was convinced I was the one who had drugged him, causing his voice to fail him in the middle of the New Year’s Eve live broadcast. I can still see the panic on Clarissa’s face, the first crack I’d ever seen in her icy composure. “You’d better pray to God he’s okay, Jayce!” And just like that, the glory I had spent three years bleeding for was snatched away by her own hands. My stage name, “Zayn,” was trademarked by her company. Without her permission, I couldn’t use it commercially. My songs, the ones I had poured my soul into, were seized by the label. Without her signature, I no longer had the right to sing them. Even our five-year love story was now reframed for the world to see: I was nothing but a placeholder. While I was being torn to shreds by an endless storm of online hate, Nathaniel posted from his hospital bed, the picture of innocence. “Sorry to have worried everyone,” he wrote, looking frail and makeup-free. “The doctor says my voice will be fine after half a month of rest. Also, a little update for you all: we’re back together!” In the photo, the famously private CEO, a woman who had never before appeared in a candid photo, was there by his side, her head bowed as she carefully peeled an apple for him. That woman was my fiancée, Clarissa. My parents rushed to the hospital the moment they heard the news. Over the phone, they refused to listen to a single word of my defense. My mother, blinded by rage, screamed at me, “Jayce, how could I have raised such a monster! If you have a shred of decency left, you’ll get over to that hospital and apologize to your brother!” A paparazzo recorded the call and leaked it online. Now, the world had its “irrefutable proof.” The villain who sabotaged Nathaniel’s New Year’s performance was me, his own brother, Zayn, supposedly terrified of being overshadowed on stage. The homewrecker who broke up Nathaniel and the Clarity Entertainment CEO six years ago was also me, his brother, the five-year stand-in. “Having a brother like that, Nathaniel really drew the short straw.” “I used to like Zayn, but I had no idea he was such a piece of shit.” “He’s a snake who drugged his own brother and stole his girl. Why hasn’t he been kicked out of the industry yet? Everyone, report him!” I was defenseless. The desperate attempts of one man to prove his innocence were a flickering candle against the hurricane of manufactured outrage. Every brand deal I had secured was terminated. Every endorsement I had signed now demanded I pay crippling penalties. Three years of earnings were wiped out in an instant, leaving me buried under a mountain of debt. Perhaps she saw how truly pathetic my situation was, or perhaps she just wanted to cut ties cleanly and completely. In the end, it was Clarissa who stepped in and settled my remaining debts. When Nathaniel found out, he wasn’t angry. On the contrary, he was the picture of magnanimity. He handed Clarissa a bank card loaded with a hundred thousand dollars. “It’s not much, but it’s a gesture,” he’d said, his words dripping with false sincerity. “Clarissa, please tell Jayce for me that I don’t hold a grudge. In fact, I’m grateful to him for bringing you back to me. That’s more important than anything.” He even added, “And tell him to come home soon, after Mom and Dad have cooled off.” The victor, standing alone on his pedestal, basking in the glow of our parents’ favoritism and his lover’s devotion. And me? After years of swallowing my pain, I was still just a stray dog kicked to the curb. A text message lit up my phone. It was from Nathaniel. He’s always been good at this—showing off his perfect life with a subtle, cutting grace. [It’s a shame you can’t be here to share in my joy. Clarissa is throwing me a victory party. Care to come?] His perfect life: the heir to a family fortune, the cherished love of a powerful CEO, the triumphant hero of his own story. Even strangers on the street couldn’t help but sigh, “Nathaniel is living the dream, isn’t he?” 2 And I was a rat, scuttling through the filth of the gutter. Every drop of sweat, every ounce of effort I had ever put in, was now worthless. When I didn’t reply, Nathaniel made a show of it at his party, his face a mask of feigned concern. “Jayce hasn’t texted me back. Do you think he’s still mad at me?” Clarissa’s expression was unreadable. “If he doesn’t want to come, forget him.” Nathaniel and I are fraternal twins. From the day we were born, he was better than me at everything. I used to wonder if my genes were defective. Compared to my ordinary existence, his life was like playing with cheat codes enabled. Our parents groomed him to be the heir. I was the invisible one, a role that, for a time, I was happy to play. The one area where I, the good-for-nothing son, had a flicker of talent was music. It was Clarissa who approached me first, back in my sophomore year of high school. I’d just won the campus singing competition, and as the student council president, she was the one to present my award. Under the spotlights, for the first time, I felt like I had finally stepped out of Nathaniel’s long shadow. I even found a sliver of confidence. As the heiress to Clarity Entertainment, she took a keen interest in me. We started spending more time together. I knew how Nathaniel looked at her, the undisguised adoration in his eyes. So, when he suddenly developed an interest in music—a passion he’d always sneered at—I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Soon enough, they became the couple everyone on campus envied. After graduation, Clarissa sent me an official invitation to join Clarity Entertainment. That same year, Nathaniel abruptly rejected the gilded path my parents had paved for him and vanished. He spent the next six years abroad, alone. His disappearance threw our family into chaos. Even Clarissa, who was always so composed, was a mess, completely lost. When Nathaniel finally returned six years later, he had a Master’s degree from Berklee College of Music. A single, well-timed tear was all it took. Our relieved parents couldn’t bring themselves to say a single word of reproach. My fiancée, Clarissa, began to waver, her guilt over his absence twisting into something else. That one tear effortlessly stole everything I had. Now, Nathaniel was basking in the admiration of millions on every news headline, while I was holed up in a company-owned apartment, teaching myself to write songs. [They twist your words with malicious intent / They dismiss your struggle with a careless hand.] My official account, with its ten million followers, had long been banned. I started over, using my real name, Jayce, to upload my original work. Within half a day, every track was taken down, buried under a flood of malicious reports. The second year of Clarissa’s blacklist. I had no songs to sing, no shows to book. The company gave me zero resources. My manager and assistant were reassigned. The clauses in my contract were a cage, preventing me from even taking on small commercial gigs. My stage performances were reported and removed, my appearances in variety shows were blurred out. As a “disgraced artist,” all my accounts were silenced. Even my burner account on TikTok was swarmed by haters until it was locked. Meanwhile, Nathaniel, with Clarissa clearing his path, won “Best New Artist” at the Vanguard Music Awards. The third year of Clarissa’s blacklist. Nathaniel competed on Soundwave, the country’s top music reality show, and was crowned “King of Singers.” And my five-year contract with Clarity Entertainment finally expired. I had no intention of renewing. My former manager, Anna, heard the news and rushed over to talk me out of it. “Clarissa’s on a business trip in Paris. Why don’t you wait for her to get back before you decide anything?” Of course, I knew she was in Paris. In the family group chat I had muted, Nathaniel, who was “on vacation,” was posting daily photos of his romantic trip with her. Seeing my resolve, Anna’s voice grew anxious. “Jayce, I heard from the higher-ups… before Clarissa left, she told them to start prepping for your comeback next year. You’ve toughed it out for three years. Don’t throw it all away now when we’re so close, right?” 3 Clarity Entertainment was a titan in the industry, a behemoth of power, connections, and resources. It was the dream destination for countless musicians. But after three years of being crushed under its heel, how could I possibly stay? I continued to pack up my lyric sheets and compositions. Anna pleaded, “Jayce, you need to think this through. Once you leave Clarity, your stage name, your songs… they’re all gone. Are you really willing to give all that up?” My hands froze. It was a question I had asked myself a thousand times during a thousand sleepless nights. I didn’t even dare to hum the melodies of the songs I had sung millions of times during the day. If my fingers so much as brushed against the piano keys and the intro began to play, I would break down completely. The moment they became leverage to be used against me, they were no longer mine. I walked out the door and didn’t look back. Anna ran after me, her voice laced with desperation. “Jayce, if Clarissa doesn’t give the green light, who in this industry will dare to sign you?” I didn’t turn around. There was nothing left there for me to look back on. That night, my phone vibrated. A message from Clarissa: [Have you made up your mind?] I didn’t reply. I became a blur of motion, a frantic spinning top whipping itself into exhaustion, running from one meeting to the next. I knew it would be hard. Even though three years had passed, no company in the country would risk signing an artist with my kind of baggage. Even without the active pressure from Clarity Entertainment, the hashtag #ZaynGetOutOfTheIndustry was still a permanent fixture on Twitter. “Zayn, you’re still singing?” “I’m sorry, Mr. Evans, but this market is all about fan engagement. We’re just not willing to take the risk.” “Jayce, we recognize your talent, but you have to understand, so many of our partners have ties to Clarity…” As I walked out of the last agency, the heavens opened up. A torrential downpour blurred the world in front of me. I opened my umbrella, a lone black boat adrift in a storm, swept along with the tide of commuters at a busy intersection. I knew starting over would be difficult. I just didn’t realize it would be impossible. To scrounge up a gig, I drank glass after glass with a wealthy producer, enduring her cloying hands on my shoulder, her brazen lips on my cheek. I drank until I was heaving over a toilet, the bitter taste of bile burning my throat. “Don’t be an idiot. They’re just messing with you. Who would actually dare to use you now?” The producer’s assistant, her own makeup perfectly intact, glanced at my pathetic, slumped form in the mirror. I hung my head, my hair a tangled mess, the world a blurry wreck. I don’t know what’s been wrong with me these past few years. The tears are always there, right behind my eyes, ready to fall the second I look down. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the hot, stinging tears pooled and overflowed, tracing desperate paths down to the hopeless ground. The assistant, who I’d only just met, hesitated for a long moment before sighing, pinching her nose, and helping me to my feet. “You should go,” she muttered. “If you stay any longer, it won’t just be about drinking.” The next day, my name was a trending topic on Twitter. SHOCKING! Former Pop Star Zayn Sings for His Supper at Private Party to Fund Comeback! The video showed me standing before a crowd of drunk socialites, singing an a cappella version of my breakout hit, “Radiant Days,” at the producer’s request. Everyone else’s face was blurred. Except for mine. I knew what these women were about, their cruel little games. I could even see the sickening desire in some of their eyes. But I still stood up and sang. What if this was a chance? I just hadn’t expected that my leaving early would piss someone off enough to send the video to a gossip blog. “So Zayn has officially become a rich cougar’s plaything?” “Gotta say, though, his three-octave high notes are still unmatched.” “Hate to admit it, but the person above is right.” “Why is this jinx still trying to crawl back? Can’t he just stay buried with his dead career instead of coming out and disgusting everyone?” 4 “Once a homewrecker, always a homewrecker. He’ll do anything for fame.” When the tide of public opinion decides to drown someone, they see your very existence as a mistake. My father’s call was the first in three years. He didn’t waste any time. “Jayce, are you determined to drag the Evans family name through the mud until you’re satisfied?” I hung up. I couldn’t listen to any more of it. I drew the heavy curtains in my rented apartment, blocking out every ray of sunlight that dared to mock me, and buried myself completely under the covers. Five hours after the scandal broke, I got a call from Clarissa. “Jayce, you really know how to piss me off.” Her voice was devoid of any warmth, a blade of ice in the darkness. I heard a rumor that the ever-composed CEO of Clarity Entertainment had been in a foul mood during a financial report meeting today, her face an unprecedented mask of fury. In my room, the only source of light was the name on my screen: [Clarissa]. It was so bright it stung my eyes. “I’m asking you one last time. Are you coming back or not?” Her voice was the same as I remembered—cold, steady, and demanding nothing less than total submission. “Clarissa,” I asked, my voice raspy, “do you still think I was the one who drugged him?” My hand gripping the phone was white-knuckled. “Does it matter?” she countered. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. A profound sense of powerlessness washed over me. She was right. It didn’t matter. To her, nothing I did, nothing I was, mattered more than a single one of his tears. So my efforts, my explanations… none of it mattered. I ended the call, feeling as if I’d been plunged into an icy abyss. Only now did I realize the truth.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393348”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 On the eve of my drug launch, I was dragged into an alley by twelve men. They left me with prolapsed intestines and twisted limbs. My brother Josh vowed to imprison my attackers, while my best friend Elizabeth arranged for elite medics to save me. But outside the ER, I heard Elizabeth hesitate: “Was hiring those men to steal Aria’s research too far?” Josh glared at me, conflicted. “Aria bullies Lily, who’s fragile as an adoptee. I won’t let anyone—not even my sister—stand in her way.” His voice dropped. “Once Lily wins the National Medical Prize, I’ll make it up to Aria.” But Josh, I thought, you’ve already broken me. A tear fell. This family of lies—I was done with it. … The doctor confirmed again, his tone urgent. “Mr. Crawford, are you absolutely certain? No surgery? In Miss Crawford’s condition, any further delay will lead to permanent disability. She could be paralyzed, hooked up to a urostomy bag for life.” Josh didn’t hesitate. “Don’t do it.” Elizabeth tried to reason with him. “Honey, look at her. Her body is ruined. There’s no way she can present the new drug tomorrow. She’s your own sister. Are you really going to let her become a cripple?” “Then let her be a cripple!” he snapped. “Without her hands, she’ll finally stop trying to outshine Lily. I’ll support her for the rest of her life.” He then leaned over me, gently wiping the sweat from my brow with a towel, his voice a disarming whisper of affection. “I promised Lily she would win this prize, that she would have her moment in the sun. Aria needs to be completely broken for Lily to feel secure.” Elizabeth sighed, then turned to the doctor, her tone practiced and firm. “Just give her something for the pain. Use the best painkillers you have. Make sure she doesn’t feel a thing.” Hidden from their view, my body trembled uncontrollably as a torrent of hopeless tears soaked my pillow. This wasn’t some random, tragic accident. It was a calculated act of cruelty, orchestrated by the brother I trusted most in the world, all to eliminate me for the sake of Lily, our adopted sister. And Elizabeth, the woman I considered my other half, was his accomplice. The pain that ripped through my broken body was nothing compared to the agony shredding my heart. Elizabeth noticed my tear-soaked pillow. Her own eyes welled up, and a tear splashed onto the back of my hand. “Aria? Oh, Aria, it’s me, it’s Elizabeth. Did the pain wake you? Don’t be scared, I’m right here.” She spun on the doctors, her voice sharp with feigned fury. “What kind of drugs are you giving her? Be careful! Don’t touch her wounds! Can’t you see how much pain she’s in?” Josh, for his part, was a portrait of rage and grief. A six-foot-tall man, he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs, as if he’d gladly take the pain himself. He cursed through clenched teeth, “How dare they do this to my sister. Prison is too good for those bastards. I should have them torn limb from limb and thrown to the sharks.” Then, he looked at me, his eyes swimming with guilt. “Aria, I’ve already called the best specialists in the country. There was an accident on the road, but they’ll be here by tomorrow morning at the latest…” He squeezed my hand. “Don’t you worry. I’ll move heaven and earth to get you healed, to get you back in the lab, developing your medicines.” I watched his masterful performance, my own senses numb, and whispered weakly, “Josh… am I really going to be okay?” “You will,” he declared, his voice booming. “I swear you will.” But his eyes wouldn’t meet mine. He knew. He knew the wounds he had inflicted himself were too deep for me to ever truly recover from. To pave the way for Lily, the brother who had sworn at our parents’ graveside to protect me forever had just personally pushed me off a cliff. And Elizabeth, my sister in all but blood, had chosen to betray me for the same manipulative girl who had driven a wedge between us all. In that moment, I couldn’t tell who was truly Josh’s sister, or who had been Elizabeth’s inseparable best friend for twelve years. I had even been the one to bring them together, to set up their first date. And this was their repayment: a slow, agonizing death by a thousand cuts of lies and deceit. My heart turned to ash. I said nothing more. A nurse approached with antiseptic. Looking at my horrifically injured lower body and twisted limbs, she couldn’t hide her pity. “Miss Crawford, the specialists aren’t here yet. We just need to disinfect your wounds. Try to bear with it.” The best anesthetic in the world couldn’t block out the searing pain. I bit down so hard on my lip that my mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood. But the physical torment was a fraction of the agony in my soul. Elizabeth watched, her hand clamped over her mouth, her eyes instantly red and raw. Josh shot to his feet, fists clenched, and stalked out of the room, his back trembling. Their concern was so real, so convincing. But I couldn’t feel a single drop of its warmth. 2 When I woke again, it was the next day. I could hear Josh and Elizabeth talking just outside my room. “Honey, Aria’s in such bad shape,” Elizabeth said. “Are you still going to have the reporters come to the hospital? To expose her for… you know, being promiscuous?” Josh was quiet for a long moment before his voice came back, firm and resolute. “Yes. She’s already been sullied, what’s a little more? The awards committee is full of puritans; they can’t stand a hint of moral scandal. Besides, this will temper her spirit. It’s for her own good.” He added, his voice low and meticulous, “Just make sure the specialists are ready. The moment the reporters leave, they start the surgery.” Elizabeth quickly agreed. I lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, a hollow shell. Hot tears streamed from my eyes. Josh knew. He knew I’d been swapped at birth, that I’d grown up in poverty and hardship. He knew I’d worked ten times harder than anyone else to become a pharmaceutical researcher. And with a few careless words, he was about to destroy everything I had ever worked for. If I had known that returning to my real family would be a fate worse than death, I would have rather died at the hands of my abusive adoptive mother. An hour later, the door to my room burst open. A swarm of reporters, men and women, poured in like vampires sensing blood. They brandished their long-lens cameras and microphones, a forest of black metal and eager faces. My face went white with terror. I couldn’t move. “Miss Crawford! We hear you partied so hard with multiple partners you landed yourself in the hospital. Would you call this reaping what you sow? How do you feel right now?” “Miss Crawford, with a sex life like that, did you sleep your way to the top of your field?” “Miss Crawford, is it true you can’t even move? That you’re a complete cripple now? Have you lost control of your bowels?” As he asked the last question, the reporter lunged forward and ripped away the thin blanket covering my body. My injuries were too severe for clothes. A tidal wave of shame washed over me. My breath hitched, and I gasped for air, a strangled, painful sound. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting. Look at all those wounds.” “Tsk, tsk, her limbs are completely deformed. Get a shot of that! This is gold.” Their whispers of disgust and contempt were knives in my chest. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling, hot and heavy on my cheeks. “Miss Crawford, you’re not answering. Is it because we hit the nail on the head? Were you just born a slut?” Seeing my panicked, helpless state, they shoved a camera right in my face and started a live broadcast. “Renowned pharmaceutical researcher Aria Crawford, whose promiscuous private life makes her a poster child for depravity. A warning to the public: cherish your bodies, or you might end up a cripple just like her.” I was like a clown, stripped naked for their amusement, unable to even curl into a ball to hide my shame. I could only lie there as the flashes popped, capturing my most broken, humiliating moments for the world to see. “What the hell are you doing! Who let you in here!” Josh charged into the room, roaring at them to get out. Elizabeth stripped off her own coat and wrapped it tightly around me, her own tears falling freely. “Security! Are you all dead? How could you let these vultures in!” They played their parts so well. So well it made me sick. My body shook with a tremor I couldn’t control. Josh knelt before me, taking my ice-cold hand in his, his eyes filled with a carefully crafted guilt. “Aria, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. I didn’t protect you, and these jackals found a way in. Don’t be afraid, I’ll kill the story. I won’t let them print a single word. I swear, I will never let you suffer another moment of pain.” What a joke. The man who swore I would never suffer again had just subjected me to the greatest humiliation of my life. He knew better than anyone that the reporters already had what they came for. I would be nailed to a public cross of shame, my reputation in tatters. I would live the rest of my life like a rat in the gutter, just as he wanted, forever crushed under his heel. For Lily, the two people I loved most had utterly destroyed me. The shock was too much. My shattered body gave out, and I blacked out. As darkness consumed me, I heard Josh’s panicked shouts and the sound of the waiting specialists rushing into the room. “We waited too long! Her intestines are necrotic. We’ll have to resect this entire section. Her limbs… even if we fix them, she’ll likely never have the fine motor skills for lab work again. She’ll be in a wheelchair. The situation is critical. We’ve missed the optimal window for treatment. The surgery only has a fifty-percent chance of success.” Josh’s voice was laced with disbelief. “What are you talking about? You have to save her! I don’t care what it costs.” Through it all, he never let go of my hand, his choked sobs echoing in the encroaching darkness. “Aria, you have to pull through. I can’t lose you, Aria. I can’t lose you.” Elizabeth was weeping hysterically. “Aria, we made a promise! We were supposed to be each other’s maids of honor! You can’t leave me!” I closed my eyes, my heart a dead, gray cinder. 3 When I opened my eyes again, I was back in a private room. My entire body was swathed in bandages, except for my left hand, which had sustained the least damage. Elizabeth was sitting by my bedside. When she saw I was awake, she burst into tears of joy. “Aria! You’re finally awake! Does anywhere hurt? Are you hungry? Do you want some water?” Her usual care was there, but beneath it was a thin layer of cautious guilt. I almost laughed. They were the ones who had mutilated me, body and soul. Now that they had what they wanted, who was this performance for? I managed a weak smile, my lips cracked and dry. “You should get some sleep, Elizabeth. You have dark circles under your eyes.” Seeing my calm demeanor, she relaxed, lying down on the cot next to my bed and falling asleep almost instantly. Once she was breathing evenly, I reached for her phone on the nightstand. I unlocked it, and the screen lit up with her wallpaper: a photo of the three of them. Lily stood between Josh and Elizabeth, beaming, her arms linked with each of theirs. I opened her photo gallery. Nearly ten thousand pictures. A dense mosaic of their lives together—trips, parties, candid moments. In one video, Elizabeth presented a three-tiered, homemade cake to Lily, playfully dabbing a bit of frosting on her nose. In another, Josh placed a princess tiara on Lily’s head, vowing to make his “one and only sister” the happiest girl in the world. And the photos of us? The twelve years of memories—studying together, chasing boy bands, running through sunsets, crying on each other’s shoulders, promising to live in the same nursing home when we were old—the pictures Elizabeth had sworn to cherish forever, were now all sitting in her recently deleted folder. Not a single one had been spared. Tears blurred my vision. The pain in my chest was sharp, like a physical blow. I didn’t understand. How could a bond so strong just… vanish?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393369”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

For him, for Kael, I chose to remain in this brutal, unfamiliar world. I taught them to till the soil and coax life from the earth, to hunt with strategy, to master fire. I gave this clan everything I knew, all to see Kael ascend to the rank of Chieftain. Then, on the day his father was laid to rest, Kael brought a woman back to our stone hut. A timid, trembling thing. “Lyra,” he’d said, his voice low, “this is Faye. She was my father’s mate.” He paused, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “By the Old Ways, the Clan Law… I must take her in. I must care for her.” I stared at the woman cowering behind his formidable frame. A bitter, ugly smile twisted my lips. “I don’t accept this.” Kael’s face hardened, turning to stone. It was the first time he had ever defied me. He forced the issue, bringing Faye into the hut beside ours, a place built for her and his father. And every night since, the sounds began. I would lie awake, staring at the wall of our hut, at the marks I’d scratched there with blood and charcoal. A calendar only I could read. The full moon was coming. Soon. 1 The sounds started again. A low rhythm from the stone hut next to mine. The grunts and soft cries, the heavy thud of bodies against the shared wall, a testament to the raw, desperate passion unfolding within. I pulled the thick furs over my head, trying to block it out, curling into a tight ball on my own cold bed. I don’t know how much time passed before the furs were lifted. A body, radiating heat and the scent of sweat, sat on the edge of my bed. A hand reached for my head, but I flinched away, burrowing deeper into the pelts. “Don’t touch me.” Kael’s hand froze mid-air. He let out a frustrated sigh, his voice laced with a cold edge. “Lyra, don’t be like this.” “It was a duty, nothing more. A ritual for the clan. Why can’t you let it go?” he demanded. “You are the only one who holds the title of my mate.” I clutched the edge of the fur, my knuckles white, refusing to answer. His patience snapped. He ran a hand through his dark, tangled hair. “Once the spring child is born, I’ll send her away. It will satisfy the elders and give the clan an heir. You need to stop being so stubborn. We will raise the child together. He will call you ‘Mother.’ Only you.” He stood then, the conversation over. He couldn’t stand my silent condemnation, so he turned and walked back toward the hut where Faye waited. It was a scene that had played out every night since she arrived. I wiped the dried tear tracks from my face and sat up. The embers of our fire still glowed, but a profound chill had settled deep in my bones. Three years. I had survived in this harsh, primitive world for three years. A world of bitter cold and constant struggle. If it weren’t for Kael, I never would have missed my chance to go home, to let the full moon pass me by. He was the clan’s fiercest warrior, and his courtship had been just as fierce, just as sincere. I pulled the necklace from my throat, a single, sharp tiger’s tooth on a leather cord. My eyes burned. He had broken his vow. He had betrayed me. I remember the day he gave it to me, the day I chose to stay. “Lyra, thank you,” he had whispered, his hands closing mine around the tooth. “I don’t care if you don’t have a Life-Mark. I, Kael, swear on my honor, you will be the only woman in my life. Even if we never have children, I will have you.” And now, a mere three years later, he had brought his father’s mate into our lives. The Clan Law was simple and brutal: a son inherited his father’s mate. This woman, Faye, who shared no blood with Kael, was now his responsibility. His property. He had to care for her, and in return, she had to bear him a child. I had foolishly believed Kael had risen above such primitive traditions. For me. I let out a short, sharp laugh and tossed the necklace into the glowing embers. The firelight danced as the bone blackened, cracked, and crumbled into fine white powder, disappearing into the soot. A tainted promise. I wanted no part of it. The soft, feminine laughter from the next hut drifted through the stone walls, a needle in my ear. My fingers brushed against the bone ring I wore on my right hand. My eyes lifted to the wall, to the crimson symbols I’d painted there. The full moon was coming. It was almost time. 2 I stood trembling with rage, looking at the field of seedlings. Drowned. Suffocated in a pool of muddy water. Beside me, Faye clutched an empty wooden bucket, shrinking back as if I’d struck her. Tears welled in her eyes, a perfect picture of innocence. “Lyra, I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, her voice choked with pity. “I only wanted to help. I didn’t know… I didn’t know a little extra water would kill them all…” Her voice broke into a sob. The high collar of her tunic had slipped, revealing a constellation of red-purple marks on her neck—the bruises of passion. My eyes darted away as if burned. A sour mix of anger and grief churned in my stomach. What was the point of saying anything? The seedlings, our food for the coming winter, were dead. My fists slowly uncurled. I took a step forward, intending to see if anything could be salvaged. Suddenly, Faye gasped, her eyes wide with manufactured terror. She staggered and fell backward in a dramatic heap. Before I could even react, a force like a battering ram slammed into me, sending me flying. My knee crashed against a sharp stone, and a bolt of white-hot pain shot up my leg. I looked up, sweat beading on my brow, and saw Kael. He was dressed in his hunting gear, covered in the dust of the trail. He must have just returned. His eyes were bloodshot with fury. He had Faye cradled protectively in his arms, and the look he gave me was one of pure accusation. “Lyra! You can’t stand the sight of her, can you? You would harm her and my child?” My lips trembled, but the sound that came out was a broken, disappointed laugh. “Did your eyes see me touch her, Kael?” I challenged, my voice shaking. “Or do they only see what you want them to see?” He faltered, his gaze flicking from me to the flooded field. He fell silent for a beat. “They’re just plants, Lyra,” he said finally, his voice hard. “She was only trying to help. Don’t be cruel.” Just plants. With those two words, he dismissed everything. All my work, my knowledge, my gift to his people. Before I came, this clan lived hunt-to-hunt. Their improperly cooked meat led to sickness, to weakness. Their children were born frail, and few survived their first winter. I was the one who found the wild seeds, who taught them to farm, who brought them health and prosperity. My knowledge is what made the clan respect him, what made him Chieftain. And now, he looked at my life’s work and called it “just plants,” all to defend the woman who had destroyed it. “Kael… my stomach hurts,” Faye whimpered, burying her face in his chest. She clung to him like a parasitic vine, her tear-streaked face the very picture of pitiable fragility. It worked. Kael’s attention snapped back to her. He shifted his grip, placing a large, gentle hand over her belly, rubbing in slow, careful circles. The gesture was so tender, so practiced, it was like a knife in my heart. Kael was not a naturally gentle man. He had learned that tenderness for me. Every time I’d been sick or hurt, he’d hovered over me, his rough hands learning to be soft. And now, he was giving that tenderness away. A wave of despair washed over me. The pain in my knee was a dull, throbbing echo of the agony in my chest. I dug my fingers into the damp earth beside me. They stayed like that for a long moment, lost in their own little world. “It still hurts,” Faye whispered. Without another word, Kael swept her up into his arms. He looked over at me, his expression a complex mask of duty and regret. “Lyra, I’m taking her to the Elder Healer.” He started to say something else, but I cut him off. “I’m hurt, too.” Kael froze. I met his gaze, my hand trembling as I pressed it against my bleeding knee. “I’m hurt, too, Kael.” The air grew heavy with silence. His lips parted, his body shifting as if to move toward me. But then Faye’s arm snaked around his neck, pulling him close. “Blood…” she gasped. A slick of crimson ran down her inner thigh. Kael’s face turned ashen. All hesitation vanished. He clutched her tighter and broke into a run, racing toward the Healer’s hut at the far end of the village. I watched them go, a hollow, empty space where my heart used to be. A small, bitter smile touched my lips. In that moment, the last wisp of feeling I had for Kael finally died.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393385”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The most explosive scandal of the year at Kingston University wasn’t about grades or cheating—it was an intimate video of Joy’s first time, leaked to the entire campus network. The video was filmed in the presidential suite of a five-star hotel. Joy, completely bare, was pressed against a floor-to-ceiling window by a man who towered over her, a breathless rhythm that echoed against the glass. When it was over, the man leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “Such a good girl.” Two simple words, yet they detonated like a bomb in the campus group chats. 【That voice… is that Shane Sterling?】 【Damn, Joy really plays her cards right. She actually managed to snag a member of the university’s board of directors! No wonder all her bullies suddenly vanished.】 【I always thought Joy was this innocent little thing. Turns out she’s a scheming social climber. What do you expect from the other woman’s daughter?】 The rumors reached Joy while she was in her dorm room, knitting a scarf for Shane. Her roommate blasted the video’s audio, a smirk plastered on her face as she passed her phone around. “Wow, Joy,” she drawled, “you sound like a pro. Guess you get a lot of practice, huh?” A wave of cruel laughter washed over the room. Joy froze, the color draining from her face. The half-finished scarf slipped from her numb fingers as she bolted from the room. She ran, stumbling, toward Shane’s office, desperate to ask him what was happening. But as she neared the door, she heard voices drifting from within, laced with mockery. “Shane, you really don’t pull your punches, man. You made sure to get her face crystal clear in that shot. She doesn’t even have a sliver of plausible deniability.” The words hit Joy like a physical blow. A chilling coldness seeped into her bones. “Well, she brought it on herself,” another voice chimed in. “You don’t mess with the woman Shane truly loves and get away with it. She deserved the payback.” “Still, props to our boy Shane. He had to spread those rumors about Joy’s mom being a homewrecker, then swoop in like a white knight to deal with her bullies, all while playing the part of the devoted lover. That’s some serious method acting.” “Speaking of which, when are you gonna drop the bomb on her, Shane? When that girl finds out the man she’s been obsessed with is actually her future brother-in-law, she’s gonna cry herself into a coma. Hahaha…” On the sofa, Shane Sterling sat in a cloud of smoke, the picture of lazy indifference. He tapped his cigarette on the edge of an ashtray, his expression unreadable. One of his friends noticed his silence. “What, getting soft on her? Don’t forget how she schemed to get your precious Sierra exiled abroad for two whole years. She made Sierra’s life a living hell over there, barely enough to eat. You can’t let her off that easy.” At the mention of Sierra’s name, Shane finally stirred. He stubbed out his cigarette. “I’ll wait for Sierra to come back,” he said, his voice a low, gravelly murmur. “Her return coincides with the anniversary Joy’s been looking forward to. I’ll give her a ‘surprise’ she’ll never forget. It’s time she paid back every last thing she owes Sierra.” Joy’s breath hitched. Through the haze of smoke, her eyes fixed on Shane’s handsome, cold face. A chasm ripped open in her chest, the pain so sharp it made her vision swim. So, he was the one who spread those vicious lies about her mother. He pursued her, protected her, all as part of a twisted game of revenge. The person he truly loved was her half-sister, Sierra. She couldn’t bear to hear another word. She turned and fled. She hadn’t made it more than a few steps before a group of girls blocked her path. “Well, well, if it isn’t the star of the show!” “Just came from the office, did you? Offering yourself up for another round?” Joy’s face was ashen. She tried to push past them, but they shoved her back and forth like a rag doll. Just then, Shane’s icy voice cut through the air from behind her. “You dare touch Joy right under my nose? Got a death wish?” Shane had emerged from his office, his tall, imposing figure striding toward them. The girls scattered like frightened birds. He reached Joy’s side, his fingers gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned down, his thumb stroking her cheek as their eyes met. “What did I tell you? If anyone gives you trouble, you use my name.” The familiar scent of tobacco filled her nostrils, so sharp it made her eyes burn. The man before her blurred with the countless memories of him protecting her, a dream that had become a nightmare. After her mother’s suicide, her father had rekindled his romance with his first love, leaving Joy in a life lonelier than any orphan’s. Then the rumors started—that her mother was a homewrecker, that Sierra was the true, legitimate daughter. As “the other woman’s daughter,” she became an easy target for bullies. It was Shane who had saved her. As a member of the university’s board, he had effortlessly created a sanctuary for her. Just last night, on his birthday, fueled by wine and desire, they had finally crossed that line. He had shed his usual elegant and noble demeanor, pressing her forcefully against the bare glass of the panoramic window, his gaze devouring her trembling body. In that moment, Joy had felt like a bird long lost at sea, finally finding its nest. She never imagined the nest was a trap, built on a foundation of lies and manipulation. Her mind reeled. By the time she snapped out of her daze, Shane was leading her out of the building and settling her into the passenger seat of his car. 2 As he always did, Shane leaned over to fasten her seatbelt. He noticed her red-rimmed eyes and softened his voice. “The video was an accident. I’ll have it taken care of. You’re not in a good state today. I’ll take you home to rest.” Joy pressed her lips together, his words from the office echoing in her mind. Tears she couldn’t control began to fall. Shane paused, his expression shifting slightly. He gently wiped a tear from her cheek, then seemed to remember something. “Wait here a second. I need to grab something.” The car door clicked shut. It was only then that Joy noticed Shane had left his phone behind. It sat in the console’s recess, and with a sense of dread, she picked it up. She typed in Sierra’s birthday. The phone unlocked. At the top of his messages, pinned, was Sierra’s name. In their most recent chat, Sierra had asked if he could break things off with Joy cleanly before she returned. Shane’s reply: She’s just a toy. We were never really together. Joy’s heart seized. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she scrolled up. For the two years Sierra was abroad, Shane had called her every single day, without fail, around 8 PM. This was the time he always told Joy he had a “board meeting” and couldn’t be disturbed. He also transferred a six-figure sum to Sierra’s account every month, no message attached, just cold, hard cash. Sierra, in return, was a master of affection, sending selfies for his approval. Shane would reply with cute pet emojis Joy had never seen him use, reminding her not to wear too little and to take care not to catch a cold. Staring at the screen, Joy finally understood. She had never known the real Shane. The tenderness he showed her was merely the tip of an iceberg, a pale reflection of the ocean of affection he reserved for Sierra. When Shane returned, he was holding a small box. Emergency contraception. He stroked her hair, his voice a gentle caress. “Last night was… rushed. I wasn’t careful enough. Take this, just in case.” Joy’s hands clenched around the box, her nails digging into the cardboard. She bit her lip so hard she could taste blood. If she hadn’t heard the truth with her own ears, she would still be naively believing he genuinely cared for her. Now, she was wide awake. When the car pulled up to her family’s villa, Shane leaned in for their customary farewell kiss. But Joy flinched away, fumbling to unbuckle her seatbelt. His eyes darkened. He wrapped an arm around her, trapping her against the seat. “Still upset about the video?” “…” “I didn’t record it, Joy. The hotel manager has already been fired.” He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “I never intended to hurt you, and I never will. Our anniversary is coming up. I’ll make it up to you then, I promise.” A lie disguised as kindness was a blade that cut deeper than the truth. Joy’s nose stung. She pushed him away. “I’m going inside.” She practically sprinted into the villa. But as she burst through the door, she collided with her father. His face was a thundercloud. Before she could speak, his hand swung through the air, and a sharp slap echoed in the foyer. “Joy, I really underestimated you. A relationship is one thing, but to film that kind of disgraceful video… you’ve brought nothing but shame on this family!” “No wonder those kids at your school target you. You’re so filthy yourself, you attract flies!” He finished his tirade by throwing a plane ticket at her feet. “I’ve booked you a flight for seven days from now. Get as far away from here as you can, and don’t ever come back!” Joy picked up the ticket, her fingers trembling. It felt like a verdict, a final sentence declaring her an outcast from the world. Her father was ashamed of her. He wanted her gone. Fine. She didn’t want to stay either. “I’ll go,” she said, her voice eerily calm. “And I’ll listen to you. I’ll never come back.” Her father blinked, as if he’d misheard. He’d tried to convince her to go abroad with Sierra for further studies before, but Joy had refused, admitting she was in a relationship with someone she loved more than anything. He’d expected her to refuse again. He hadn’t expected this quiet, immediate compliance. His anger subsided slightly. “Sierra is coming home this weekend,” he said, his tone still cold. “I’m hosting a welcome-home party for her. You will attend. The video is already out there. If you don’t show your face, you’ll just be confirming all the rumors.” Joy nodded. “I understand.” … Joy took three days off from the university. She spent them packing up every gift Shane had ever given her and listing them for sale online. Three days later, Sierra returned. Her father threw a lavish party at the city’s grandest hotel, inviting every influential figure in the business world. Including Shane. Joy hadn’t expected to see him there. She turned to leave, but he caught her wrist, pulling her into a deserted corridor. He pressed her against the wall, his hands caging her in, his hot breath fanning across her ear. “You haven’t been to class. You haven’t answered my messages. You didn’t even say a word about our anniversary.” “Joy,” he growled, “do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” 3 His gaze bored into her, raw with frustration over her disappearance. Joy pressed her lips together, summoning the courage to meet his eyes. “Since when does Shane Sterling worry about an insignificant f*ck buddy?” Her sudden defiance, so different from her usual compliance, seemed to catch him off guard. A flicker of something dark crossed his face, a rebellious spark igniting in his eyes. He yanked her closer, his arm tightening around her waist like a steel band. “Fck buddy?” he snarled. “We were together for two years, and it happened once. You call that a fck buddy relationship?” Joy didn’t know what had gotten into him. He was leaning in, his lips about to crush hers, when a voice interrupted them. “Shane, there you are. Sierra’s been looking for you.” Shane’s brow furrowed. He released Joy, turning to his friend. “Got it. I’ll be right there.” Joy seized the opportunity, her voice a mask of surprise. “You know my sister?” “Know her?” Shane’s friend laughed, a look of pure mischief on his face. “Oh, their relationship is a lot more thrilling than you think. Joy, you’d better prepare to have your mind blown.” As the two men walked away, a flicker of scorn crossed Joy’s face. They thought she was still in the dark, planning to stage a grand humiliation for her tonight. They had no idea she had already pulled herself together, ready to sever all ties with Shane for good. Later that evening, in the middle of the bustling banquet, the lights suddenly died. A single spotlight shot to the stage, illuminating Shane, dapper in a tailored suit, with Sierra on his arm, radiant in a white couture gown. Joy’s father beamed, raising a hand to quiet the crowd. “Friends, I’ve invited you all here tonight for two reasons. First, to welcome my daughter Sierra home from her studies abroad. And second, to announce some wonderful news!” “The Sterlings and our family have been friends for generations. Years ago, we arranged a marriage between Sierra and young Shane. Now, seeing them so deeply in love, we are thrilled to announce that their engagement party will be held at the end of the month. We hope you will all join us to witness their happiness!” As her father finished, Shane’s friends all turned in unison to look at Joy, their faces alight with anticipation, waiting for her to break. But Joy simply stood there in the crowd, her expression a placid mask, as if the drama unfolding on stage had nothing to do with her. Shane frowned. In his script, Joy was supposed to have a complete meltdown upon learning the truth. But her composure was unsettling, almost unnatural. A strange unease coiled in his gut. Sierra, ever perceptive, sensed his shift in mood. “Shane, what’s wrong?” she whispered. He pulled his gaze away from Joy. “Nothing. Just lost in thought for a moment.” He knew Joy. He knew how deeply she felt for him. She couldn’t possibly be this unfazed. She had to be putting on a brave face. … Joy escaped to the restroom and splashed cold water on her face. Thinking back on her foolish infatuation with Shane, she felt like the world’s biggest idiot. No wonder he had only touched her once in two years. It wasn’t because he treasured her; it was because he found her repulsive. Her first time, something she had held so sacred, was nothing more than a weapon for him to use, a perfect tool for her public ruin. When she returned to the banquet hall, her father immediately called her over. “Joy, come and say hello to your brother-in-law.” She walked up to Shane, a perfectly polite smile gracing her lips. “Hello, brother-in-law.” At the words “brother-in-law,” Shane’s face tightened. Sierra, however, was oblivious, her smile radiant. “Joy! I just heard Shane is on the board at your university. What a coincidence! If you ever run into any trouble, you can just ask your brother-in-law for help. We’re all family now, after all.” Joy clenched her jaw. “I won’t be any trouble,” she said, each word a carefully carved stone. She didn’t look at Shane, but she could feel his gaze on her, sharp and cold as a winter wind, making her shiver. After a few more strained pleasantries, Joy tried to excuse herself. But Sierra looped an arm through hers, her voice cloyingly sweet. “Joy, it’s been so long. I have so much to tell you.” Without waiting for a reply, she dragged Joy into a private lounge. The moment the door clicked shut, Sierra’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold, venomous sneer. “Joy, I heard you slept with Shane. And that the video is everywhere. Did you really think you could use such a cheap trick to keep him?” “Let me tell you the truth. He doesn’t like you. In fact, he’s disgusted by you.” “The rumors about your mother being a homewrecker? I had him spread them. Him pursuing you? That was my idea, too. I wanted to watch you fall hopelessly in love with him, only to be destroyed by his own hand!” 4 “Why?” Joy whispered, the single word escaping her lips. “Why?” Sierra sneered. “Because you have no self-awareness! Your mother has been dead for years, yet you still cling to everything that belongs to the Joy family. That wealth, that status—it should have all been mine! You’re the daughter of a homewrecker. What right do you have to any of it?” Joy could endure anything, but she would not stand for her mother being insulted. She lunged forward, her voice a low hiss forced through gritted teeth. “My mother was not a homewrecker. When she married my father, she didn’t even know you and your mother existed. You’re the ones who drove her to her death!” Stunned by Joy’s defiance, Sierra raised her hand to strike. But just then, the lounge door was pushed open. Catching a glimpse of Shane in her peripheral vision, Sierra’s mind raced. In a flash of cunning, she snatched a handful of nutty pastries from the table and shoved them into her mouth. The next second, her body went limp. She collapsed to the floor, her voice a muffled, panicked cry. “Joy… why did you make me eat this? You know I’m allergic to nuts…” Shane rushed to Sierra’s side, shoving Joy out of the way. Joy stumbled backward, her back slamming hard against a glass coffee table. With a sickening crash, the cups on the table shattered. Shards of glass dug into her palms, drawing blood. Shane didn’t even spare her a glance. He knelt, scooping Sierra into his arms. “Sierra, are you okay?” Tears welled in Sierra’s eyes as she clutched his arm. “I just wanted to talk to her… I don’t know what I did to offend her, but she just suddenly forced me to eat those pastries…” “Look at me,” she choked out, “am I breaking out in hives?” Shane looked down. Sure enough, angry red welts were blooming across Sierra’s skin at an alarming rate. “What do I do? The party isn’t over, I can’t embarrass you. Makeup… I need makeup to cover it!” Shane grabbed her wrist, his voice firm. “This is no time for that! Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital.” He lifted Sierra into his arms. Before leaving, he shot Joy a look of pure, cold loathing. Joy pushed herself up, fighting through the searing pain. Blood dripped from her hands, staining the hem of her dress crimson. But she felt numb, as if falling into an abyss had robbed her of all sensation. She called a waiter for a first-aid kit and, with trembling hands, clumsily bandaged her wounds. Exhausted and drained, she dragged her heavy feet out of the lounge, intending to leave. But as she stepped into the corridor, shadows lunged from a nearby storage closet, dragging her inside. A rough hand clamped over her jaw, forcing her head back. A stream of concentrated chili water was poured down her throat. Joy’s eyes flew open in terror. Like Sierra, she had a severe allergy—hers was to chili peppers. This much could kill her. “Mmph… stop…” She struggled wildly, but her attackers were relentless, forcing cup after cup of the burning liquid into her. She choked and gagged, her body convulsing violently. Her wounded hands clawed helplessly at the floor, the sound a frantic, desperate scratching. Her tormentors, seeing her agony, only grew more vicious. “Sierra is the woman Shane treasures most. Did you really think you could touch her and get away with it?” “We heard you got bullied a lot at school. You must be used up, passed around by all sorts of guys. A man like Shane, with his high standards, would never want a filthy, used-up whore like you.” “Just drink up. Consider it your apology to Sierra. Otherwise, we’ll make sure you suffer.” Joy’s vision blurred, her consciousness fading. With her last ounce of strength, she almost unconsciously whispered his name. “Shane…” A chorus of harsh laughter rained down on her. “Hahaha! You’re not actually hoping he’ll come save you, are you?” “He’s the one who told us to do this. You hurt Sierra. He’d be thrilled if you were dead!” “Come on, boys, let’s rip her clothes off and send some pictures to Shane. Let him have a little fun, too!” The men swarmed her, and in an instant, her dress was torn to shreds. They snapped photo after photo of her half-naked, dying body, not stopping until she finally lost her battle for consciousness and the world went black.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393402”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel