Category: English

Four years ago, my mother and father went to the Atacama Desert. My mother, Helen, returned from the expedition not long after, but my father, David, refused to give up. He vanished into the desert, and for four years, we heard nothing. Then, just last week, the official word came from the authorities. My father, missing for four years, was confirmed dead. All that was left of him was a tattered backpack and a diary. The canvas of the pack was stained with blood and matted with hair. A DNA test confirmed our worst fears. It was his. My mother and I held a funeral with an empty casket, burying only the backpack and the diary in a memorial grave in our backyard. But on the third night after the funeral… my dead father came home. He stood there smiling a chilling smile, caked in dirt and dust, without a trace of human warmth, as if he’d just clawed his way out of the earth. “Lily,” he said, his voice a dry rasp. “Did you miss your daddy?” … A shiver traced its way down my spine. I squeezed a single word from my throat. “Yes…” His smile widened. He reached out with a rough, calloused hand and pinched my cheek. The coldness of his touch was alarming, sinking deep into my bones. It wasn’t the temperature of a living person. I was terrified. My father was dead. His last known possessions were buried in the empty grave behind the house. So who—or what—was this thing standing in front of me? In a panic, I called for my mother. She was showering upstairs and yelled down, asking what was wrong. I hesitated, then told her everything in a rush. “Mom, Dad’s home!” “What?!” A minute later, she ran down the stairs, still damp, her robe hastily tied. She looked ready to scold me for talking nonsense, but then she saw him. Standing in our living room. My father smiled his weary, weathered smile and pulled a few rocks from his pocket. “Helen, I’m back. I know it’s been hard on you, running the house and taking care of Lily all these years.” “I brought you these stones from the Atacama. A souvenir.” He tried to press the stones into my mother’s hand, but she flinched away. They fell to the floor with a heavy, dull thud. Mom stared at the rocks on the floor, her expression a mask of horror. Her lips pressed into a thin, white line. I couldn’t tell if she was more afraid of my father, or of the stones themselves. But Dad just kept smiling. It seemed to be the only expression he had left. His idea of romance—bringing home rocks from his adventures—was just as tone-deaf as ever. Nothing had changed. My father was an adventurer at heart. Before they were married, both he and Mom were part of an amateur exploration club. After they married, Dad quit the official club but was still constantly away, forming small expedition teams with other enthusiasts. When I was born, he stayed home a little more, but you couldn’t chain down his free spirit. He went on his trips all the same. In my memory, the only one who was ever trapped was my mother. When I was little and I cried, she would cry with me. I remember her cycles of breakdown and recovery, a long, slow grind until I was old enough for her to go back to her job as a nurse. My father never understood her sacrifices. He just complained that she had become boring. Every place he conquered, he brought back a rock for her. Her vanity wasn’t filled with jewelry or makeup, but with a collection of stones from all over the country. And now, there was one more. Forget my mother; even I thought it was cruel. I wanted to throw it as far as I could. But Dad just smiled that chilling smile and asked, “What’s wrong, Helen? Don’t you like it?” “I love it,” Mom replied, her voice cold as ice. She told him to go upstairs, take a shower, and get some sleep. He agreed without argument, still smiling as he went upstairs. The moment we heard the shower start, Mom grabbed my arm and dragged me into a corner, her grip like a vice! “Lily! Listen to me very carefully! Remember every word!” her voice was a panicked whisper. “That man is not your father! Your father is dead in the Atacama!” “No matter what he says, no matter what he does, do not believe him! He is not your father!” A father returned from the dead should have been a miracle. For us, it was a curse. I was used to it being just Mom and me. Having this… father… in the house made my skin crawl. The next morning, Mom left early. She sent me a text saying she had to take care of something important and might be gone for a few days. She transferred a sum of money into my account and told me to take care of myself. Her last message was a stark reminder. “Don’t trust him, Lily. He is NOT your father!” My heart leaped into my throat. I had barely finished reading the text when I sensed a shadow behind me. I spun around to see my father’s face, his lips stretched into that unnatural smile. “Good morning, Lily. Texting your mom? Where is she? I didn’t see her this morning.” “She went to work,” I said quickly. “She has a business trip. She’ll be back in a few days.” Dad’s smile didn’t falter. He pushed his glasses up his nose, his eyes glinting as he easily dismantled my lie. “Your mother is just a nurse. She has business trips?” “Of course,” I improvised, my mind racing. “She’s up for the Head Nurse position. There’s a provincial competition. She’s been working so hard these past four years, Dad. Juggling her job and taking care of me.” I turned the question back on him. “What about you, Dad? Where have you been for four years? Why didn’t you call, not even once?” He paused. For a second, the look behind his glasses turned sharp and cold. But the smile remained plastered on his face. He began to tell me about his time in the desert, the dangers he faced, the vast, empty beauty he witnessed. He spoke in great detail, as if he really had been there for four years, and he had all of Dad’s memories of Mom and me. As he spoke, my eyes kept darting to the empty grave in the yard. I thought of the diary. It had to contain the real story of what happened to him in the Atacama. Mom had forbidden me from reading it when the police returned it, saying it would be too traumatic, that I’d never recover from the loss. She buried it to protect me. But what if I dug it up now? Could it give me a clue? If I compared its contents to what this man was telling me, maybe the truth would come out. I tucked the idea away and continued to make noncommittal conversation with him. At noon, he offered to cook lunch. The day wasn’t particularly warm, but he cranked the air conditioning, setting it to a very low temperature, letting the cold air blast directly onto him. Amidst the recycled air, I caught a faint, strange, foul odor. But I didn’t dare say anything. I just pretended not to notice and ate the meal he prepared. It tasted just as bad as I remembered his cooking. Nothing unusual there. After lunch, he said he was tired and went to his room to rest. He took another shower first, then went into his room and turned on the air conditioning, again setting it very low. As I walked past his door, a chilly draft seeped out from under it. The room inside was pitch black; he had drawn all the curtains. He had developed a sudden love for the dark. I noted all of this but kept silent, retreating to my own room. Once I was sure he was asleep, I grabbed a shovel and crept out to the backyard. I started digging. The memorial grave wasn’t deep. It only took me about fifteen minutes. I pulled out the backpack, retrieved the diary, and stuffed it inside my shirt. I quickly filled the hole back in and ran back to my room before he could wake up. I locked my door and windows, my heart pounding with anticipation as I opened the diary. It was definitely my father’s handwriting. The first twenty or so entries chronicled his journey into the Atacama. He wrote that he had entered the desert without issue and had met another expedition team, joining them on their journey. They decided to change their route to visit the ruins of Humberstone, a 19th-century ghost town in an undeveloped sector of the desert. Then, for a long time, the diary was blank. Pages and pages of empty paper. When the writing resumed, it was a single, terrifying sentence, written in what looked like blood. “Lily! If you’re reading this, run! Your mother is not your mother anymore…” “Run, do you understand?!” The chilling, blood-red words burned themselves into my mind. I gasped, and the diary fell from my trembling hands. As it hit the floor, a photograph slipped out. The photo was taken against a backdrop of a dusty, twilight-orange desert landscape. In the distance were the crumbling ruins of the Humberstone ghost town. And half-buried in the sand was the body of a woman. Her face had been gnawed away by scavengers, making her unrecognizable, but I knew the clothes she was wearing. And the bracelet on her wrist… I recognized it instantly. It was a bracelet I had made for my mother four years ago on a trip with my friends, with a small, laser-engraved message of love hidden on the clasp. But how did that bracelet end up in the Atacama? And who was this dead woman? My mind was a tangled mess of questions, my nerves stretched to their absolute limit. A knock on my door jolted me back to reality. “Lily? Are you sleeping? Why is the door locked?” It was my father. He jiggled the handle, his tone urgent, a stark contrast to his earlier gentleness. “Lily, open the door!” “Lily, what are you doing in there? Why are you locking the door in your own home? Hiding from your own father?” His voice grew more agitated, more accusatory. “What are you really doing? Do you have a boy in there? Is that it? You think you can sneak him in while I’m asleep? You have no respect for me at all!” He was shouting now, twisting the handle frantically, kicking at the door. I was frozen with fear. I tried calling my mother, but her phone went straight to a “not reachable” message. The next second, the door burst open, splintering from the frame! I had managed to hide the diary just in time. I watched, terrified, as my father stormed in, his face a mask of rage. He scanned my room, his eyes wild. “Where is he? Where is he!” “Lily, where did you hide that little bastard?!” I couldn’t even breathe. I could only cry silently. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dad. There’s no one here. I was just taking a nap.” “You need to lock the door for a nap?” he sneered. His eyes were cold as stone. “Don’t you ever lock this door again. Do you hear me?!” I curled into a ball on my bed and nodded. Instantly, his expression changed. He smiled and reached out to pat my head. “Good girl. That’s my good Lily.” As he touched my head, I smelled it again. That foul, rotting odor. My father was not my father. And whether my mother was still my mother… I no longer knew. Everything had become a terrifying mystery.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393200”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I slipped the powder into my husband’s dinner. When his mother caught me, she just scoffed, “That little bit ain’t gonna do squat.” Later that night, she took a knife and cut off her own son’s manhood herself. 1. I was five months pregnant, and this felt like judgment day. Mama Mae said if I couldn’t give her a grandson this time, she’d pass me around to every man in this hollow. Said maybe once I’d earned back the money they paid for me, they’d sell me off to someone else. The creaky examination table in the clinic felt like the judge’s bench. “Well, Billy? Is it a boy?” Mama Mae craned her neck, squinting at the ultrasound screen Dr. Evans was holding. But the way Dr. Evans’ brow furrowed and his face fell made my heart sink. Sure enough, the next second, Mama Mae’s fist slammed into my chest. “You good-for-nothing tramp! Cost my boy ten thousand dollars, and you can’t even pop out a boy!” As she pulled her hand back, she slapped me hard across the face, making my head spin. God, that hurt, you old hag. I lowered my head, clutching it, and rolled my eyes so hard they nearly stuck. If I’m a tramp, what does that make you, practically crawling into bed with your own son every night, you dried-up old prune? “It is a boy!” Dr. Evans stepped in quickly, seeing the raw patch where she’d yanked my hair earlier. He even took a shove from Mama Mae meant for me. “It’s a boy, see? This little bump right here, that’s the little fella,” Dr. Evans explained, pointing carefully on the screen, even circling the spot with a pen so she’d understand. “It’s a buck! A buck!” Mama Mae, nearly seventy, flushed red and practically jumped for joy. But just as quickly, she calmed down, shot me a look full of hate, like she’d just remembered something unpleasant. I ignored her glare, scrambling off the table to see for myself. Relief washed over me. Only then did I dare sneak a glance at the old woman standing by the table, one hand on her hip, the other patting her own flat stomach. Sixty-something years old, hasn’t had a period in God knows how long, and still dreaming of having her own son! I scoffed silently. “Abby, your scalp is bleeding pretty bad. Let me give you something for it,” Dr. Evans said. He sat on a worn wooden stool in his white coat, his long fingers and the pen gleaming in the sunlight. After writing something down, he pulled a small paper packet from a cabinet and pressed it into my hand. Two packets, I thought, feeling the rough paper. I tried to subtly slide one up my sleeve. But Mama Mae snatched the packet right out of my hand and tried to shove it back at Dr. Evans. While doing it, she poked me hard, her fingernails caked with dirt digging right into my injured scalp. It felt like she wouldn’t stop until she drew blood again. “Don’t need it, don’t need it! She’s tough as nails, a little scratch like this? Ain’t worth using medicine on! It’ll heal on its own!” I’ll kill you someday, you miserable old witch! I kept my head down, wincing but not daring to make a sound, pretending to be meek and agreeing. My mind, though, was racing with ways to get rid of her. Luckily, Mama Mae was too busy arguing with Dr. Evans to notice my expression. They went back and forth all the way to the clinic door. Until Dr. Evans finally said, “It’s on the house.” “Well, thank you kindly then, Billy,” Mama Mae instantly stopped arguing, a folksy smile spreading across her face as she let Dr. Evans put the packet back in her hand. It was mortifying. As we left, we thanked Dr. Evans again and again, bowing and scraping like he just handed her the winning lottery ticket. By the time we walked from the clinic back to our cabin, word had spread like wildfire through Hollow Creek. Everyone knew Cletus, the man whose wife couldn’t seem to produce an heir, was finally getting a son. Big news! Cause for celebration, maybe crack open some moonshine. 2 Walking home, I stuck out my belly, which wasn’t even showing much yet, and put on a big, happy smile. After that day, my life in Cletus’s house got a little easier. They didn’t keep me locked up inside as much, the beatings lessened, and sometimes I could even wander around the hollow a bit. People started getting used to seeing me out and about. “That’s just how it is for women! Marry a man, he puts food on the table and clothes on your back. Gotta make the best of it,” one neighbor told me. “A man hitting his wife ain’t the worst thing. Long as he provides, just gotta learn to humor him,” another chimed in. “Men are just like big kids, really. Spoil ’em a little, and they’ll eat right out of your hand.” When the woman next door, Jenny, tried to run off again and got dragged back, I stood in the crowd watching. “That’s your neighbor, ain’t it?” A woman nudged me with her elbow, nodding towards the scene. “Ma’am, careful! I’m carrying a boy, you know,” I muttered, rolling my eyes inwardly and stepping away from her clumsy nudge. “Sure is,” I finally answered. “Honestly, marryin’ one man’s same as marryin’ another, right? Jed’s family, they’re better off than most around here. What’s she got to complain about? Just doesn’t appreciate what she has.” Standing there, watching Jenny tied up and beaten nearly senseless, a sick kind of superiority washed over me. But the trail of blood dripping on the dirt path unnerved me. I clutched my belly and carefully backed out of the crowd. No, I gotta protect my son. Can’t let anything happen to him. The thought sent a chill down my spine, like someone was watching me. I looked around, left and right, but saw no one staring. Still, I felt like the other women were jealous. I hurried away from the crowd and ran back towards the cabin. “Soon as that bitch pops out the boy, we sell her off quick to those idiot brothers down the holler. Then Ma’ll buy you a new wife, son.” I hadn’t even stepped inside when Mama Mae’s venomous words froze me in my tracks. I thought having a son would make things better. Clutching the bag of groceries, I ducked behind the corner of the house to listen. “Aw, Ma! Where we gonna get the money for that? Let her pop out a couple more boys first, then we’ll talk,” Cletus mumbled back. His words hit me like a bucket of ice water. Freezing cold. He was agreeing with her – sell me again, squeeze more money out of me. In that instant, I saw my future clearer than ever, and it was worse than Jenny’s. At least Jenny was still alive. If they sold me off again, especially to those two… I wouldn’t last long. “Mark my words, son. Once she has that baby, you will sell her.” Mama Mae’s cryptic comment jolted me. I remembered something she’d vaguely asked me to help her with earlier, and my teeth clenched with hatred. Those brothers she mentioned were born slow, dirt poor, strong as oxen, and meaner than snakes when they got riled. If I got sold to them, forced to take care of both… would I even survive? “Ma! There’s some commotion goin’ on outside!” I called out, deliberately standing further away before walking into the yard with the groceries, head down. No way I’m letting that old hag sell me to those two. I can’t die here. I have to find a way out. I made a silent promise to myself. 3 That day, some church folks came by dropping off donation boxes, and Cletus brought home a bag of rice. Mama Mae pulled out a piece of pork, deciding to splurge, and sent Cletus out to fetch some liquor. While tending the stove, I found the packet of powder Dr. Evans had given me. Looking at the amount, I clicked my tongue. “Still seems like not enough.” My hands were shaking as I emptied the powder into a bowl. Just as I was about to reach for a spoon, I looked up and saw Mama Mae standing right there, frowning at me. A cold sweat broke out all over my body. Did she see? Before I could even finish the thought, a stinging pain exploded on my cheek. “Useless thing!” Mama Mae snatched the packet from me, dumped the rest of its contents into the bowl, and stirred vigorously with a spoon until the white powder disappeared. Still not satisfied, she added two huge spoonfuls of sugar before finally stopping. “That little bit ain’t gonna do squat! Don’t you even care about your man?” Muttering curses, she carried the bowl out. Before leaving, she deliberately kicked the empty packet into the firebox under the stove, watching it burn. Only after she left did I finally let out a breath. I unclenched my fist. The bit of powder I’d managed to palm was damp with sweat, but still usable. I mixed it into the thick gravy simmering on the stove. The gravy was dark and strongly flavored; the powder wouldn’t be noticeable. That evening, Mama Mae and Cletus ate and drank with gusto. The combination of the drug and the alcohol knocked them both out cold. Quietly, I opened the cabin door, planning to use this rare chance to escape. Everything went smoothly at first. In the distance, the rickety wooden bridge connected Hollow Creek to the outside world. It felt like a lifeline. Cross that bridge, and I’d be free! Head down, I hurried towards it, almost breaking into a run. Almost there, almost there, almost free! But then, maybe a hundred yards from freedom, I stopped. I gave up. I turned around and went back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392466”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My dad believed in a tough-love, trial-by-fire kind of upbringing. Even though he was a billionaire, he threw me into the slums from the time I was little, left to suffer all sorts of humiliation. The person he sent to “take care” of me pocketed most of the money, feeding me nothing but plain bread and pickles every day. Constant malnutrition and oppression made me timid and insecure. Unable to take the bullying anymore, I jumped from the roof of a building. And after I died, my dad just gave my corpse a cold glance, completely unfazed. “This character build is a wash. Time to start a new one.” But what he didn’t know was, the new character was still me. I opened my eyes in a chaotic void, a warm sensation surrounding me. Memories flooded in like a tidal wave. The excruciating pain of my skull being crushed, bones shattered in my previous life, jolted me awake. I shot up in surprise. Had I been reborn? “Oh, honey, the baby’s kicking! So strong! Definitely going to be someone important someday.” “Of course. How could Rex Thorne’s kid be anything less?” Familiar voices drifted through a muffled barrier. I looked at my newly formed hands and feet and finally confirmed the truth. I had become Rex Thorne’s second experiment. Rex Thorne had clawed his way up from being the kingpin of his old, rough neighborhood. Dirt poor, he’d fought his way to notoriety. In his early years, he’d amassed wealth through sheer brutality, and with a stroke of luck on a few investments, he quickly became a billionaire. After his success, he rebranded himself as a renowned philanthropic entrepreneur, an inspirational legend for countless people struggling at the bottom, a symbol of someone who’d transcended their class. This also cemented his belief that only hardship could forge true talent. So, he’d tossed me, barely weaned, into the slums, assigning only a lazy, gluttonous caretaker named Brenda Lee to look after me. My biological mother had been forced by him to have me in the first place; she had no say in anything. Later, unable to bear Rex Thorne’s abuse, she chose a sunny day to overdose on pills and died. And all of this, Rex Thorne had viciously told me on the day I died, just before I breathed my last. “Useless thing. Your mother was useless, and you’re even more useless.” “Can’t even handle a little hardship. Good riddance. You would’ve just been a waste of space anyway.” With that, he’d turned and left without a shred of sentiment, rushing off with his mistress to start his “new character.” He left my body to rot, exposed and forgotten. But fate has a way of turning, and karma’s a bitch. What he never expected was that the “new character” he had such high hopes for was still me. And this time, I was going to make him pay a hundredfold. 2 The woman carrying me now was named Crystal Summers. Though her name sounded sweet, she was anything but. She’d climbed into Rex Thorne’s bed even before my first mom had taken those pills. She was a master of flattery, but Rex, despite being a total scumbag, was obsessed with his public image. Even with a string of women on the side, he only recognized my first mother as his legitimate wife. He wouldn’t give anyone else that official status until she was dead. Because of this, Crystal Summers resented my first mom, constantly scheming against her, both openly and secretly, causing her mental state to deteriorate until she finally killed herself. She even sent many of the people who bullied me, wanting me dead and out of the way. Thinking of this, rage boiled up inside me. Push-ups, backflips – I thrashed around in Crystal Summers’s womb, using the umbilical cord as a jump rope, putting on a full acrobatic display. I kicked out, and my tiny foot made a sharp bulge on her belly. She writhed on the bed in pain, wailing and crying out while simultaneously praising how “robust” I was. “Ouch, it hurts so much! Woo-hoo, ha-ha-ha, my baby’s little foot is so strong! It’s amazing, it’s going to kick right through Mommy’s tummy! Aaaah, ouch, you little rascal, it hurts so much!” Thanks to my relentless torment, Crystal Summers was practically half-dead throughout her pregnancy. On the day of delivery, I clawed and kicked my way out, ensuring maximum tearing for her. Blood pooled on the floor before I finally emerged. Her nether regions were a mangled mess. After that, Rex Thorne never entered her room again. When I opened my eyes, I saw the face that made me clench my teeth in hatred. Rex Thorne, seeing the sturdy physique I’d developed from torturing Crystal, beamed, his face wrinkling up like a Shar-Pei’s. “Wow, look at these strong little arms! And these thigh muscles! Just like his old man back in the day!” I gave a wicked little smile, wrapped my tiny hands tightly around his neck, and with all my might, started slapping his face, left and right. “Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!” Rex Thorne had specifically invited the media to film this “tender” moment, wanting to project the image of a great, loving father. And this “loving” scene was, of course, clearly recorded by dozens of cameras with their long lenses and flashes. The reporters all had awkward, forced smiles. Rex Thorne, his face swelling up, tried to play it cool, his grin looking more pained than a sob. “Ha-ha-ha-ha, oof, see? This kid… loves me so much, ouch, ha-ha-ha, so strong.” 3 Later, I displayed astonishing linguistic and athletic talents. I was speaking fluently at eight months, even becoming a linguistic prodigy seemingly overnight, and by ten months, I was walking steadily, even able to jog a little. Because of this, Rex Thorne doted on me. In my previous life, I was thrown into the slums before I was even five. But this time, I was almost six, and he still hadn’t made a move, constantly clinging to me, which I found incredibly annoying. So, I escalated my kicks and punches, yet he’d just stare at me with stars in his eyes. I never knew Rex Thorne had a bit of a masochistic streak. “This is my boy!” “That good-for-nothing first one deserved to die! Should’ve died sooner! If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have such a smart and adorable kid now!” Crystal Summers beamed, rushing over to hug Rex Thorne intimately. “That’s right, darling. The baby takes after you, a real chip off the old block.” Thanks to me, Crystal Summers hadn’t rested well at all during her postpartum recovery. Her face was sallow and waxy. Rex Thorne pinched his nose and disgustedly pulled away, muttering as he walked towards the bathroom. “Jesus, you stink! How long has it been since you showered?” His words hit Crystal Summers like a ton of bricks. A wave of shame and anger washed over her face. Because I constantly demanded her attention, she hadn’t even had time to shower. If she tried to hand me over to the maternity nurse, I’d scream bloody murder. She was barely hanging on by a thread after childbirth. Just then, I “accidentally” pulled out the phone I’d swiped from Rex Thorne’s pocket while he was holding me. The screen was vibrating non-stop. Flirtatious messages and risqué photos from various side pieces brazenly appeared right before Crystal Summers’s eyes. She puffed up like an angry mother hen. “You bastard, Rex Thorne! I just had your baby, and you’re already out wining and dining other women! I’ll kill you!” Clutching the phone, she stormed towards Rex Thorne. But before she could even utter her accusations, he sent her flying with a vicious backhand. 4 “Who the hell gave you the nerve to go through my phone?! Trying to control me? Who do you think you are?” “Take a look at yourself! I can’t even eat looking at that face of yours! I’ve only been putting up with you for our baby boy’s sake. Don’t push your luck!” Crystal Summers was stunned by the slap, covering her face, looking at him helplessly, her large eyes welling with tears. Rex Thorne couldn’t be bothered with her. He hastily scrolled through his phone and bolted out the door as if his butt was on fire. I watched this woman – tears streaming down her face, milk leaking from her breasts, blood from below – with cold indifference. I felt no sympathy. She who lives by screwing others over, gets screwed over. Serves her right. But as Crystal Summers sat on the floor crying, she suddenly burst into loud laughter. I thought she’d had a mental breakdown that quickly and was starting to feel bored, but then Crystal slowly stood up, a smile on her face. “You old bastard, you’re a real piece of work, but I’m no pushover either.” “You really think Rocky is your kid? Ha-ha-ha-ha, you old fossil, you’ve been shooting blanks for years! Dream on!” My eyes widened. So, Thorne Junior Number Two wasn’t even his biological child. The irony was, Rex Thorne, who valued blood lineage above all else, had personally killed the only true bloodline he had in this world. Pathetic and laughable. Since that was the case, I decided to give him another little push. While Crystal Summers was lost in her own main-character revenge fantasy, I grabbed her phone, unlocked it in a jiffy, and typed in some relevant information. Then I started wailing to get Crystal’s attention. Sure enough, she quickly looked over, annoyed. With Rex Thorne gone, Crystal didn’t bother pretending to be a virtuous wife and mother. She was about to wave for the maternity nurse to come soothe me when she inadvertently glanced at the phone screen. Her eyes instantly lit up.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392487”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I’m the real heir, and when they finally found me, my brother gifted me a hairless cat. “Lily, this is my gift to you. Welcome home.” Dad also gave me a gold necklace. “Lily, I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through. From now on, I’ll make it up to you.” They had no idea I possessed the Second Sight and had been studying the spiritual arts for years under my Master. Housed within that hairless cat was the soul of the fake heir. A soul swap? Interesting! I gazed at the grand mansion before me, my heart stirring. My Master’s need for sacred artifacts finally had a lead! … Seeing me accept the cat, the hairless feline rolled its eyes and sprawled out on the sofa. “Idiot! In exactly forty-nine days, my soul swap will be complete. Then I’ll sell you to a breeding farm and you’ll be used daily!” “Dad and my brother said I’m the real princess of this house. You’re just a vessel!” “Enjoy your little moment in the sun for a couple of days!” Oh? What a splendid idea! I wondered how much a hairless cat would fetch. Quite a lot, I assumed? I looked it up online. A breeding-grade one could go for around fifteen thousand. That’ll cover my Senior Apprentice’s new phone. I glanced at Brooke and settled down next to her. She immediately sprang up, hissing and screeching at me! “Get away! You country hick, stay far away from me!” “You’re reeking of poverty, don’t contaminate me!” I raised an eyebrow, then swung a casual slap across her face! Ryan rushed over, alarmed. “Lily! What did you hit her for?!” He instantly scooped up the cat, yelling at me. I feigned timidity. “Where I come from, untamed brutes need a firm hand, otherwise, they won’t learn manners.” “Brother, are you upset with me?” Ryan’s face darkened, but he quickly softened his tone. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that you two just met today and aren’t familiar yet. You’ll get along once you get to know each other.” He stroked the cat’s head tenderly. “Be a good girl, sweetie. I’ll get you some delicious treats later.” “You’re the best, big brother!” Brooke tilted her head, rubbing against his palm, and I felt a pang of disgust. Her large eyes met mine, full of blatant provocation. I sneered inwardly. A hairless creature, trying to cause trouble! Ryan placed Brooke in her dedicated room, which was decorated like a princess’s chamber, all pink and soft, complete with plush carpets. “Lily, from today onwards, you’ll sleep with her. Our family even owns a pet hospital. You should familiarize yourself with it soon, so you can manage that part of the business.” “Got it, big brother! Leave her to me!” I eagerly picked up Brooke, smiling faintly. “Let’s get along, okay? Otherwise, my temper isn’t very good!” Hearing this, Brooke opened her mouth to bite, but in the next second, I had her by the scruff of her neck, completely restraining her. Whack! Whack! Two quick slaps stunned Brooke. “I told you, if you don’t listen, you get hit!” Ryan’s face turned ashen. He was about to intervene when I said, “Brother, my pet, my rules. Don’t worry, a few hits and she won’t dare to bite people anymore. Animals, you know, they need to have their temper curbed!” Ryan was helpless, forced to endure it as he closed the door. I tossed Brooke onto the floor and pulled out my phone to text my Master, letting him know I was safe. Brooke, fuming, hunkered down in the corner, glaring at me. “You bitch! Just you wait!” “Once that necklace is tainted by your aura, I’ll be able to successfully swap our souls!” I touched the necklace around my neck. It pulsed with a faint, chilling, ethereal energy. But I quickly suppressed it. A mere minor spirit from a foreign land dares to cause trouble! The necklace’s luster immediately dulled. It seems they didn’t enlist anyone truly formidable! My Master quickly replied to my photo: “A wealthy family, indeed. But that hairless cat… she’s a bit unusual!” I explained the situation to him, and the old man immediately grew excited. “I wonder how skilled you are with these foreign dark arts. Maybe we can bind a few and use them for practice!” Just as I expected, Master was interested. I readily agreed. Closing my phone, I looked at Brooke’s eyes and curved my lips into a smile. “Little kitty, want some yummy food?” 2 Brooke hissed at me. Mid-hiss, she suddenly remembered my stinging slaps and immediately shut up, hiding in the corner without a sound. Finding myself bored, I opened the door and went out to explore. Aside from the strange soul swap involving Brooke, this mansion seemed perfectly normal. However, as I reached the third-floor study, I overheard Robert Henderson and Ryan’s conversation. “Dad, what do we do with Lily after the soul swap?” “She’s just a little animal, just toss her out!” “What trouble could she possibly cause? She’s a country bumpkin! If Brooke hadn’t gotten into trouble, I would never have brought her back. Let her enjoy herself for a bit!” “Alright, I’ll go prepare Brooke’s Tomahawk steak. Her favorite fruit was just airlifted in!” I quickly retreated and hid, watching Ryan, who was supposed to be at the company, rush out. I did a quick psychic reading. His romantic stars were aligning, but it was nothing but trouble! It seemed Ryan’s feelings for Brooke truly were extraordinary! I scoffed inwardly. After exploring for a while, I returned to my room. Brooke was nowhere to be seen, but my nose caught a pungent odor of cat urine. I almost laughed. The carpet, the sofa, the bed, and even my wardrobe – all of it was covered in her territorial markings. I walked to the window and pulled back the curtains. A white blur suddenly shot towards my face, claws glinting. I dodged sideways, then landed a kick that sent the cat flying into the corner! She hit the wall hard and fell to the ground. “Ah! You wretched hussy! My brother will kill you when he gets here!” Hearing footsteps approaching the door, I moved quickly, scooping up Brooke. Then, with lightning speed, I pulled off the bedsheet and wrapped her inside. Holding her by the scruff of the neck, I gave her a few swift slaps, then shook her hard until Brooke completely passed out. The next second, the door opened. I said, my voice trembling with feigned tears, “Brother, I don’t know what’s wrong with her! She suddenly just turned like this! Look, is she sick?” Ryan immediately became anxious. He rushed to scoop up Brooke, and was instantly assailed by the strong smell of urine, nearly gagging. “What is this?” “I’m not really sure. When I came in, all my clothes were soaked in urine. Does this cat have some kind of disease? She shouldn’t be making mistakes like this!” “Is there something wrong with her? We should take her to the pet hospital to get checked out!” Ryan grew worried. “I’ll go! Have the maids clean up all this stuff!” “But I don’t have any clothes to change into.” Ryan hesitated for a moment, then pulled out his phone and transferred fifty thousand to me. “Go buy some new clothes right away!” “Thank you, brother.” Fifty thousand dollars, charity money! The ingredients airlifted for the cat alone cost more than that. I turned around, went to a jewelry store, and bought a massive gold pendant for a necklace. Only then did I return. As soon as I got home, I saw a box of ingredients on the table. Besides steak, there was sea urchin. Good heavens, why does one cat need to eat so well?! Without hesitation, I cooked it all. What I couldn’t eat, I fed to the stray dogs. When Ryan returned, he saw the empty food box and his face darkened. “Lily, why did you ruin all the ingredients I bought?” “Brother, you know, I never lived well before. I’ve never seen such delicious food, so…” “Brother, is the cat okay?” Ryan gritted his teeth. “She’s… she’s fine.” I smiled and made to pick her up, but Ryan sidestepped. “Never mind, I’ll handle it myself.” The maids had already cleaned the room, and I took out the large gold pendant and fastened it around Brooke’s neck. “This is a special gold pendant I bought as a welcome gift. I saw other people’s cats wearing these.” 3 Ryan was about to refuse, but Brooke saw the large gold pendant and her eyes immediately lit up. She instantly sat down demurely, admiring it. “Look, brother, she really likes it.” Ryan’s expression softened. “Alright, I’m going to the company for a bit. You be good.” I nodded repeatedly, looking at my phone. My Senior Apprentice had pulled a few strings for me earlier. I figured Mr. Henderson and Ryan wouldn’t have time to bother me. I prepared some steak scraps for Brooke. Brooke immediately changed her attitude! “You little bitch! You feed me leftovers! I’ll tell Dad and my brother to kill you!” I smiled at her. “Behave, or you’ll get a good smack! Don’t expect Ryan to come back anytime soon!” Brooke glared at me, making low growling sounds. I chuckled, then watched as the roar of a car engine faded outside. Both of them were gone. I immediately searched for the nearest animal breeding center. I turned to look at Brooke. She was arching her back, preparing to pounce, but suddenly met my chilling gaze and froze. She then retreated. “Why is this little bitch looking at me like that? What do you want?” Terrified, she turned to run, but I swiftly grabbed her by the scruff of the neck. She tried to fight back, but I squeezed hard, and Brooke passed out. I tossed her into a bag, then hailed a cab directly to the breeding center. “Here’s five hundred dollars. Keep her for three days. This cat is in heat. Mate her with a few strong males. I don’t care about the breed, any of them will do!” Brooke shrieked, “Bitch! How dare you!” The owner smiled. “Don’t worry, you’ll be satisfied!” He brought out several burly males, even a twenty-pound Maine Coon! I was very pleased, but Brooke was terrified. “You little hussy, you wouldn’t dare! Dad will kill you when I get back!” I crouched down and looked at her. “Brooke, enjoy your stay!” Her eyes widened in horror. “How do you know?! You did this on purpose! Come back! Come back!” I ignored her, turning to leave. “Have a good time. I’ll be back for you in three days.” Mr. Henderson and Ryan were too preoccupied with company matters to bother with me. By the time they realized something was wrong, it was already the third day. After dinner that evening, Robert Henderson finally noticed the unusual quiet. “Where’s the cat? Why is it so quiet?” “Oh, she was in heat the other day, so I sent her to a breeding center. Found her a few male cats.” Hearing this, Robert Henderson shot up. “What did you say?!” Ryan grew anxious. “Lily, are you out of your mind?! Who authorized you to do that?!” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Cats in heat need to mate, Ryan!” “I asked the vet, and they all said if a cat’s in heat, you either spay her or find some males to mate her. So I just sent her to the breeding center.” Hearing this, Robert Henderson nearly fainted. Ryan grabbed me and demanded, “Address!” I rattled off the address. They rushed off. By the time I arrived, the breeding center owner was already fighting with them. “Where did these lunatics come from? Trying to snatch my cat!” Upon seeing me, the owner immediately waved me over. “Young lady, you’re just in time. These two are crazy, they saw this cat and tried to take her.” “Misunderstanding. They’re my dad and brother. They’re just very fond of this cat and wanted to check on her.” “You should have said so earlier! This cat’s been having quite a time, over a dozen males lined up for her every day!” Ryan exploded. “What did you say?! A dozen?! What did you take her for?!” “What else? A cat in heat, obviously!” Boom! Ryan didn’t explode, but Robert Henderson passed out! I smirked. Already losing it? It’s still too early!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392508”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

“Ah…” In the dorm common shower, I let out a soft groan and dropped the vibrating toy still clutched in my hand. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, my eyes hazy, my face flushed. An indescribable emptiness churned within me. My name is Olivia, though everyone calls me Liv, and I’m a college student. Since my first time in high school, I’d always had a guy. “Pure face, wild side” was how most of them described me. But I never would have imagined that my first boyfriend in college, the one I’d chosen so carefully, would turn out to be more obsessed with gaming than with me. We could be mid-makeout session, and if his buddies called for a game, he’d be out the door in an instant, ditching me to play with them. He couldn’t care less if I was satisfied. Compared to Blake, his roommate, who always had a hungry look in his eyes for my butt, it was night and day. I remember the first time I realized Blake’s… potential. I’d seen him single and decided to set up my best friend, Ashley, with him. They hit it off, and one night we ended up sharing a hotel room. We booked a two-bed room to save money. I took one bed, Ashley and Blake took the other. In the middle of the night, Ashley’s muffled pleas woke me. “Easy… easy there, you’re like a wild animal… I… I can’t take any more.” I cautiously opened my eyes to see Blake aggressively pinning Ashley beneath him, moving with relentless force. After what felt like an eternity—seriously, almost fifty minutes—Ashley couldn’t take it anymore. “Y-you… if you don’t stop… I’m gonna be seriously pissed!” Blake must’ve heard the genuine anger in her voice, because he wrapped things up pretty fast after that. I was so envious I practically drooled. Part of me wished I could rush in and take her place. But wishing aside, I never actually did it. Then I thought of my own boyfriend, Brandon. It was frustrating, like wanting something to be better but knowing it just wouldn’t be. Brandon was better than Kevin in every way except one: that one thing women crave and sometimes resent. I dried off, pushed those thoughts aside, and got ready to get dressed. But when I stepped out of the shower, still naked, I saw the locker mysteriously shut. Then it hit me: I’d heard the janitorial staff earlier, asking if anyone was in here. I’d been focused on moisturizing and hadn’t answered, so they must’ve thought the place was empty and locked up. “But I’m still completely naked! Not a single piece of clothing left out for me. How am I supposed to get out?” I frantically searched around, a wave of panic washing over me. I was utterly exposed, with nothing but my flip-flops and a towel. I was completely trapped. To make matters worse, tomorrow was the first day of Fall Break. I couldn’t even afford to spend the night here waiting for someone to rescue me. Finally, I steeled myself and made a decision: I’d have to go out naked and call for help. Not that I planned on streaking across campus. My idea was to hide behind the door, shield my naked body, explain my predicament, and ask someone to grab me some clothes. It would be incredibly embarrassing, sure, but at least it wouldn’t be complete social ruin. Without much more hesitation, I bit my lip, stood up, and carefully poked my head out of the changing room door. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” I called out. Silence. After a moment’s hesitation, I used my towel to cover my sensitive bits and tiptoed out of the changing room. My heart hammered against my ribs, a mix of shame and nervousness making my whole body feel flushed. I took a deep breath and called out again, but still, nothing. By now, I was gradually getting used to the feeling of being naked. My nerves had settled somewhat, and I felt a little bolder. I let go of my arms, which had been crossed defensively over my chest, and walked forward, exposed. After confirming the entire floor was deserted, I approached the exit. I looked up. The door was locked! It was a barred iron gate, and one of the bottom bars was missing, leaving a gap about a foot off the ground—just wide enough for my slender frame to squeeze through. I breathed a long sigh of relief. The girls’ dorm was too far, but the guys’ dorm was just across the way. Brandon and his roommates had all gone home for Fall Break, and I knew Brandon always left his spare key above the doorframe. I could easily slip over there and grab some clothes. No time to waste. I got down on my hands and knees and eagerly started to crawl through the gap in the iron gate. In that position, my slender waist naturally dipped, and my rounded backside lifted high, a truly compromising pose that felt almost… inviting. I knew how scandalous this position looked, but I was so desperate to escape that I couldn’t care less. Thanks to years of dance, my body was flexible. My upper half slid through easily, but my firm, full backside got completely stuck. I twisted my waist, wiggling my hips from side to side, trying to flatten my backside enough to get through. Just as I was struggling, about to give up from sheer exhaustion, I heard laughter in the distance. It was a group of guys, noisy and boisterous, heading straight towards me. Suddenly, a strange, dark thought wormed its way into my mind: What if they saw the dance major, stuck in a dog-like pose, half-naked in an iron gate? Would they take advantage? Would they… force me into all sorts of positions? The idea, the vulnerability, sent a shiver down my spine. I wouldn’t be able to fight back…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392527”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I made her a pauper after finding my wife cheating with the butler’s son. It was our wedding anniversary, and Ashley, my wife, had finally set aside her work for a trip together. Just as we were boarding the plane, she suddenly received a message: her father was sick. “Ryan, I’m so sorry, Dad’s suddenly not feeling well. I need to go back and check on him. I can’t go with you this time.” I was a bit disappointed, but her father’s health was paramount, so I agreed. After she left, I tore up my ticket. I decided to go back and see what was wrong with my father-in-law, who had supposedly been dead for three months. 1 I followed her car all the way home. I didn’t rush out of the car. Instead, I pulled out my phone. And that’s when I saw the butler’s son, Chad Peterson, making a grand show of his life on social media. [Your boundless favoritism is the best 21st birthday gift I could ask for!] The picture showed him in a white suit, with an arm around a woman. That woman was my supposedly devoted wife, Ashley Davis. I rolled my wrist, opened the car door, and stepped inside. As soon as I entered the foyer, I saw over a dozen men and women in the massive living room, balloons hanging from the walls. A crowd was chanting: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” … I don’t know how many times they’d shouted it when Ashley Davis looped her arms around Chad Peterson’s neck and pulled him into a full-on French kiss. The room erupted in cheers. When the kiss finally broke, Ashley lingered, her fingers tracing Chad’s lips. She looked up and her eyes widened in terror, spotting me somehow already at the front of the crowd. She instinctively tried to push him away. I was faster. My hand flew up, and I smacked her across the face. Smack. Smack. The sudden change in atmosphere silenced everyone. Chad turned to look at me, his face draining of color. He grabbed Ashley’s arm, pulling her protectively behind him. I watched her, a cruel smile playing on my lips. “So, when did you get a new sugar daddy? Or is he just your little pet project?” Ashley’s eyes darted frantically, trying to form an explanation, when a guy with bleached blonde hair, Spike, shoved me. “Who the hell are you? Crashing someone’s party and hitting people? Are you crazy? Apologize to Chad and his girlfriend right now! Or else!” His words opened the floodgates. Others chimed in: “Just casually assaulting someone? What kind of lawless behavior is this? An apology is too easy; he should be reported to the police!” “I agree. The police should check his background. He’s hitting people now, who knows what he’ll do next? Psycho!” “How did a lunatic get into a birthday party? And he dares to hit people? Do you even know who you hit?” I gave a faint smile to the loudmouths, then turned to Ashley. “You think I shouldn’t have hit you, don’t you?” Ashley licked her lips, about to speak, when Chad tugged her sleeve and shook his head. I saw their little exchange. I was genuinely curious to see what game they were playing. Then, Ashley glared at me, her face full of fury. “Ryan Miller, what in the hell is your problem? It’s Chad’s birthday! Whatever you have to say, save it for later. Don’t make a scene and ruin his party. Get out!” She was clearly afraid her little side piece would lose face in front of his friends. I sneered, watching her with detached amusement. “Ashley Davis, where exactly do you want me to ‘get out’ of? Or is it that you two have something so scandalous you’re afraid others might find out?” The next second, Chad gripped Ashley’s hand, a declaration of ownership in his voice. “Ryan… bro, I know you’ve always had a thing for Ashley. Seeing her with me probably hurts. But you can’t force love, can you? Ashley loves me. We’ve been together for two years. She said we’d get married after I graduate. Please, just stop harassing her.” Ashley hadn’t expected Chad to say that. Her face cycled through emotions, her eyes flicking to me in a furtive glance. Chad’s words hit me like a gut punch. Today was my and Ashley’s two-year wedding anniversary. And they had been together for two years. Meaning, she had been cheating on me before we even got married. And she’d brought Chad and his father into our home under the guise of hiring a butler. They had fooled me for two whole years. Spike spoke up again. “I get it now! You’re just the male nanny who has a crush on Chad’s girlfriend! How shameless can you be? Trying to steal someone’s girlfriend in front of everyone?” Being randomly labeled a “male nanny” made me genuinely laugh. “Chad Peterson, are you still dreaming? What makes you think you’re in a position to have me as your ‘male nanny’?” My words hung in the air, and then a splash. A drink was flung into my face. Spike stood there, holding an empty glass, a smug look on his face. “I think you’re the one who needs to wake up, pal. We all know who Chad is. His dad runs a huge business, and his girlfriend owns a company. This whole villa is his. As for you? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at you, dressed like you just rolled out of a dumpster, not a single designer label on you. You’re only fit for scrubbing floors and serving people.” Dumpster clothes? My clothes had no visible brand because they were custom-designed by world-renowned tailors. Other girls started defending Chad. “Yeah, why aren’t you apologizing to Chad? Otherwise, you’ll lose your job too.” Then, a girl spoke up, her tone flirtatious. “Hey, old man, maybe you should check your age. Competing with a hunk like Chad for a girl? If you’re that desperate, I can help you out. I’ve never tried a thirty-plus guy before. Can I get you for two hundred a night?” Her words sparked another round of laughter. I wiped the liquor from my face, then slowly, deliberately, fixed my gaze on Ashley. “Ashley Davis, I’m your husband. And you’re just going to stand there and watch them insult me, defending your little side piece? Don’t you dare regret this!” Ashley’s face was cold. “Chad is my boyfriend. You brought this on yourself.” Her words were ambiguous, a careful tightrope walk. With so many friends backing him up, Chad straightened his posture, his voice gaining confidence. “Ryan, bro, I’m calling you ‘bro’ out of respect for your age. But don’t forget your place. You can cause a scene all you want, like today, ruining my party, whatever. But Ashley is a woman, and with all these people watching, how can you just publicly slap the CEO of a whole corporation? Did you even think about how she’d feel?” He then smoothly shifted his gaze to Ashley, his voice softening. “Ashley, even though I’m young, I know how to protect my woman. I’ll always give you face when we’re out, unlike Ryan…” His double meaning successfully played on Ashley’s vanity and, surprisingly, her deep-seated inferiority complex. I scoffed. “You know, you’re right. I was so focused on her, I forgot to hit you too!” The next second, I grabbed his collar and slammed two hard punches into his perfect, pale face. Chad clutched his bleeding face, screaming. “Ryan Miller! How dare you hit me! I’m going to make you pay!” “You wanna keep yapping, poodle?” I raised my hand to hit him again, but Ashley grabbed my waist and shoved me with all her might. Caught off guard, I stumbled backward, crashing into the champagne tower. I fell to the ground, my hand landing on shattered glass. Ashley didn’t even spare me a glance. Instead, she shielded Chad behind her and snapped at me: “Ryan Miller! Apologize to Chad!” I looked at my bleeding palm. Gritting my teeth, I endured the pain, carefully pulling out the glass shards one by one. Two years of marriage. It felt just like these shards, piercing my very being. Chad, peeking from behind her, grinned at me triumphantly. The pain in my palm sharpened my voice, chilling it to the bone. “Ashley Davis, you’re throwing a birthday party for your side piece in my house, publicly cheating on me right to my face, and now you want me to apologize to him? Are you out of your mind? Or do you just think I, Ryan Miller, am some pushover? Don’t forget, I can give you a life of luxury, and I can just as easily make you a pauper in a heartbeat!” My words made Ashley’s eyes tremble. But Chad quickly jumped in. “Ryan, Ashley built her company from the ground up with her own hard work and incredible intellect! She achieved financial freedom on her own terms! Don’t talk like you helped her do anything!” I paused, genuinely taken aback. Incredible intellect? Talent? Financial freedom? She couldn’t even understand the simplest business proposal, and now she supposedly had an “incredible intellect”? When she first wanted to start her company, I gave her a million dollars from my own funds and then pulled several multi-million-dollar projects from my father’s company for her to work on. To avoid hurting her confidence, I even transferred the heads of several core departments from my dad’s company to hers. She was just so ridiculously self-congratulatory, thinking she was some genius. Why else would top-tier professionals in various fields choose to work for her tiny, fledgling company? She actually believed they were just impressed by her “abilities.” If I hadn’t been pulling strings behind the scenes, there’s no way she could have turned a small startup into a major company on the verge of going public in just two years. The other party guests, overhearing our exchange, started whispering. “Did that guy just say this is his house, and Chad’s the side piece? Do you think he’s telling the truth?” “I think it’s possible. Look, that guy looks about the same age as Chad’s girlfriend. I always thought Chad’s girlfriend was way too old for him. Maybe she’s been playing him all along!” “But, Chad’s girlfriend is defending him so fiercely. If it were really the original spouse catching a cheater, would the cheating woman dare to act like this?” “Grab your popcorn, folks! This is about to get interesting. Let’s see how this plays out.” Spike couldn’t stand it anymore. He bellowed, “Don’t spread rumors! This is Chad’s house! I’ve been here plenty of times. I’ve seen Chad and his girlfriend sleeping in the master bedroom with my own eyes. I’ve even met his dad – that’s the real rich guy!” A chill spread through me. The thought of them “rolling around” in my bed filled me with profound disgust. Chad fiddled with the couple’s rings on his finger and spoke again. “This is my home. Everyone here can vouch for that. I think you’re the one who needs to leave. Ashley, I don’t want to see him. Can you make him go?” Ashley nodded. “This is your house, Chad. Whatever makes you happy.” Spike grabbed my hair and started dragging me toward the door. “Old man, you need to know your place! How shameless can you be, trying to steal someone’s girlfriend in broad daylight? You’re a disgrace!” Then, he yelled to the others, “You guys wanna see what this creep looks like naked? Bet he’s got abs under that garbage, perfect way to get some payback for Chad!” My pupils contracted. I instinctively clutched my clothes over my chest. Some of the girls, fueled by the mob mentality, were already reaching out, trying to rip my clothes off. I struggled desperately, screaming at Ashley, hoping she would stop them, save me. Ashley frowned, about to lift her hand to intervene, but Chad grabbed her arm. “Ashley, don’t worry, my friends know their limits. They’re just trying to stick up for me. Besides, this way, won’t it make it easier for you to control him?” Ashley’s eyes lit up with understanding. She squeezed his chin, and together, they watched as I was torn at, stripped of my clothes. “Let go of me! This is illegal!” Spike raised his hand and slapped me. “This is us taking out the trash! Besides, you like to ‘steal’ women, right? We’ve got so many young, beautiful girls here, you should be thrilled!” As his words died out, I felt hands all over me, pulling, grabbing, tearing… Just as despair washed over me, a voice boomed from the doorway. “How’s my boy’s birthday going? Dad’s got your present!” Mr. Peterson, Chad’s father and our butler, appeared in the doorway, impeccably dressed in a black suit, holding a beautifully wrapped box, exuding an air of exaggerated wealth. He took in the scene inside and shrieked. “What in God’s name are you doing?!” Spike, quick as a flash, ran to Mr. Peterson to report. “Mr. Peterson, you were only gone for a minute, and this guy broke in and hit Chad!” Mr. Peterson followed Spike’s pointing finger and, as his eyes landed on my face, his own face went white. His lips trembled, and his eyes darted around, terrified to meet mine. The next second, Chad put on a show of noble generosity. “Dad, I’m sure Ryan didn’t mean to. He’s just upset seeing Ashley and me together. My friends just wanted to teach him a little lesson to defend me. Please, forgive him this once. Don’t fire him.” Mr. Peterson immediately understood, though his tongue still felt thick. “R-right… well, you all carry on. I’ll just go upstairs.” Fury boiled within me, my voice hoarse and icy. “Mr. Peterson, your son is acting like an idiot, and you’re not stopping him? Do you think these people can protect you for a moment, let alone forever?” As I spoke, I had subtly pulled out my phone. Mr. Peterson puffed out his chest, glaring at me, but his voice still held a hint of panic. “You little bastard! Don’t talk nonsense! You think I’m scared of you? Everyone knows my son and Ms. Davis are the real couple now! Only a man like my son deserves to be with Ms. Davis. Men like you deserve a beating. Don’t hold back, everyone! If anything happens, I’ll cover it!” I suppressed my rage, buying time. “Cover it with what? You’re just a butler. Do you really think you’re some rich tycoon?” My gaze fell on Ashley. “Ashley Davis, everyone who’s hurt me today will pay. Every single one of them. And that includes you.” Chad lunged at me, trying to hit me again. I gathered all my strength, lunged up, and rammed into him. He crashed to the ground, and Ashley’s rage flared. “Don’t hold back on him! I’ll take responsibility for anything that happens!” My hair was yanked violently, and I was thrown hard onto the ground. “Ms. Davis said it herself! We don’t have to hold back! Do whatever you want!” “Tsk, just a bastard! Dares to steal Chad’s girl! If I don’t teach you a lesson today, I don’t deserve to be Chad’s friend!” “Strip him down!” Spike jumped on top of me, pinning my stomach, making it impossible for me to move. He began furiously tearing at my clothes. Just as I felt more and more skin exposed, almost completely uncovered, the front door was kicked open. A dozen police officers swarmed in. Chad gasped, clamping a hand over his mouth. The people pinning me froze, terrified, and quickly raised their hands. A police officer shouted, “Who called this in?” From behind them, I slowly raised my hand. “I did!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392545”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

It was a festive day in early June, and my husband had finally agreed to take our fraternal twins to the newly opened amusement park to ride the Ferris wheel. But then his old flame called, needing help for sudden appendicitis. He abandoned our young children at the park in a torrential downpour, saying it was to “toughen them up.” I was on my knees outside the security office, desperately pleading for them to check the surveillance footage, while he was accompanying his ex to a spa treatment. His voice came through the phone, casual and unconcerned: “What’s so dangerous about a Ferris wheel? Boys need to learn to be strong.” Three hours later, clutching our son’s tattered teddy bear jacket, I found our daughter curled up in a corner, tightly gripping her own stuffed animal. That night, Ethan Vance set off a city-wide fireworks display to celebrate his old flame’s pregnancy. 1. I sat numbly outside the ER, the sharp smell of antiseptic stinging my nostrils. Waiting anxiously for news about my daughter, my mind replayed the horrific, fragmented images of my son. My fingers fumbled for the phone in my pocket. Seventeen missed calls, all from Ethan Vance’s secretary. The latest text read: “Mr. Vance will not be returning tonight. Please handle the arrangements yourself, Madam.” Arrangements? For what? For the mangled remains of my son? In a daze, I thought I heard Ellie’s piercing scream again. What excruciating pain must Leo have endured when he was pulled into those gears? The thought tore through me, a visceral agony. A heart-wrenching wail came from the direction of the morgue. I turned stiffly to see my mother-in-law, Mrs. Jiang, stumbling towards me, clutching a blood-stained death certificate. “Ellie… my Ellie!” she collapsed to her knees, her withered hands reaching for my empty arms. “Where’s my grandson?” My lips moved, but no sound came out. My throat was a block of ice. Hours ago, when they found what was left of Leo, the bloody, mangled pieces couldn’t even be pieced together into a recognizable human form. “Where is Ethan Vance?” Mrs. Jiang suddenly grabbed my shoulders, her voice a raw shriek. “His own son is obliterated, and he’s still with that viper?” I stared at the red light of the ER, a bitter laugh escaping me. How ironic. Right now, Ethan was surely holding Sarah Ramsey, watching the fireworks, while my son… my son was gone, not even a body left to mourn. Seeing Mrs. Jiang’s devastation, I finally steeled myself. Childhood betrothals, lifelong friendships… all of it could be discarded. My mother-in-law trembled, about to speak, when the ER doors burst open. A doctor removed his mask. “Mrs. Vance, your daughter is suffering from trauma-induced mutism. She needs to be transferred immediately.” Mrs. Jiang’s cries ceased abruptly. She stumbled and knelt, hugging my legs. “The Vance family has brought this upon you! Chloe, my dear, I should never have let Ethan marry you. That… that creature is worse than an animal…” The little girl who always clung to me, calling “Mommy” in her sweet voice, could no longer speak. I leaned back against the cold white wall, slumping like a boneless doll. I bit into the flesh of my hand, the metallic taste of blood the only thing keeping me conscious. “The family can handle the transfer procedures.” The doctor handed me a form. I reached for it, my five fingers trembling like autumn leaves in the wind. Mrs. Jiang tried to take it. “Let me…” “No need,” my voice was chillingly cold. “You stay with Ellie.” On the way to the billing office, my phone buzzed again. A text from Ethan: “Did you pick up the kids? Sarah’s shaken up. Not coming home tonight.” I stared at the glaring words, a sharp, hysterical laugh tearing from my throat. The hallway window reflected my contorted smile, the image of a madwoman. So what if I was mad? Leo was dead. Ellie couldn’t speak. And Ethan Vance was celebrating his old flame’s new baby. How utterly absurd! The billing nurse looked at me, alarmed. “Are you… alright, ma’am?” I looked down and saw my blood-stained fingertips counting out the cash, the edges of the bills soaked dark red. Just like the park ticket Leo had clutched so tightly before he died. He’d wanted to ride that Ferris wheel so badly, the ticket was soaked through with his sweat. When I returned to the room, Ellie was awake, curled up in the corner of the bed, hugging her stuffed animal. Seeing me, her lips trembled violently, but no sound emerged. Tears streamed down her face. I wrapped my arms around her small, thin body, smelling the faint metallic, rusty scent in her hair. “M… M…” Ellie managed a breathy sound, her small hands clutching my clothes desperately. “B-bro… bro…” Finally, the dam inside me broke. I buried my face in my little girl’s thin shoulder, biting my own wrist to stifle the sobs that wracked my body. The pain of my teeth sinking into flesh was nothing—Leo, torn apart by gears, must have suffered a thousand times more. Outside, fireworks suddenly bloomed, painting the hospital room in flashes of light and shadow. A news alert popped up on my phone: “Vance Heir Spends Millions on Celebration for Fiancée.” The accompanying photo showed Ethan with his arm around Sarah Ramsey on a balcony, holding champagne flutes, smiling tenderly. I gently stroked Ellie’s trembling back, humming Leo’s favorite lullaby. The glass reflected our ghostly figures, mother and daughter, like shattered souls. My phone vibrated in my pocket. Ethan’s voice, harsh and grating: “Chloe Shang, you’re so damn poisonous! You’d even lie about Mom to trick me into coming home? You can’t even look after a mute kid, and now you dare curse my child with death?” “How dangerous can a Ferris wheel be? That thing moves slower than a turtle. If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.” “Isn’t having one autistic son bad enough? Now you’re using a dead kid to threaten me? If something really happened, just tell the hospital to cremate him directly. Don’t think you can use the kids as bargaining chips to keep me.” These words fell precisely on my mother-in-law’s ears as she walked in with some food. She almost fainted, her breath catching in her throat. Her face turned ashen. She snatched the phone from my hand and roared into it. “Ethan Vance, you heartless, ungrateful bastard! Even a vicious tiger doesn’t eat its own cubs! You’re lower than an animal! That bitch Sarah Ramsey—why didn’t she just die abroad when she took the money and left? Now she comes back and gets my grandson killed! You two despicable dogs deserve to burn in the deepest level of hell!” She was shaking with rage. She turned and kicked viciously at the Vance Corporation logo on a nearby plaque in the hallway. “I’m calling a board meeting right now to have you removed! From now on, you won’t get a single cent!” With that, she slammed the phone onto the floor. It shattered into pieces. Mrs. Jiang stumbled back to me, hugging me tightly, her tears soaking my shoulder. “Chloe, my dear… it’s the Vance family that has wronged you… Don’t worry, even if it means bankrupting the family, I’ll make sure Ellie gets the best treatment. That heartless piece of trash doesn’t deserve to be a father, much less a Vance!” I looked at the new white hairs estrésaking my mother-in-law’s head. Only a few hours had passed, but the formidable businesswoman, a titan in her field for over a decade, had aged years, looking as withered as decaying wood. Years ago, my own mother, desperate to secure a powerful connection for me, had shamelessly brought up a jesting childhood engagement promise made with Mrs. Jiang. Instead of being angry, Mrs. Jiang had honored it. Then, my mother had thrown herself into the sea. I had lived with the Vances since I was ten. All these years, Mrs. Jiang had treated me like her own daughter. And Julian… he had always been good to me too. To repay her kindness, I married Ethan Vance without a second thought. I’ve diligently managed the household all these years, hoping to clear that debt of gratitude. 2. That night, white mourning drapes were hung in the Vance home. I was alone in the makeshift memorial hall. Ellie couldn’t be brought back here; she was at the old family estate. White candles flickered in the draft, and the ashes of burnt offerings drifted onto Leo’s photograph. In the photo, he looked as shy as a little girl, trying to force a stiff smile. I stared into the flames, murmuring, “Leo, in your next life… will you be Mommy’s boy again?” It wasn’t until late at night that Ethan Vance stumbled in, reeking of alcohol, with Sarah Ramsey trailing behind him. He glanced at the memorial, sneered, and kicked over the basket of offerings. “Quite the performance, Chloe. Who are you trying to impress? Besides, one useless autistic kid dies, so what? Is it really worth all this fuss?” My eyes blazed red. I roared at Ethan, “I won’t let you insult my son!” Sarah simpered, tugging at Ethan’s sleeve. “Ethan, don’t be like this… Chloe is already so heartbroken.” “Heartbroken?” He laughed coldly. “Her son is dead, and she hasn’t shed more than a few tears. You call that heartbroken?” Sarah shot me a look of feigned pity. “Chloe, my condolences… If one child is gone, you can always have another. Maybe Leo was even reincarnated in me, ah…” A scream tore through the memorial hall. I lunged, brandishing the fire tongs I’d just pulled from the brazier, and brought them down hard on her flailing hands. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air instantly. Several of her meticulously manicured nails flew off. “Chloe, are you insane?” Ethan roared, kicking me viciously in the stomach. “You think you can touch Sarah’s hands?” He grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the hardwood offering table. The sharp edge gashed my forehead, and blood instantly blurred my vision. Ethan’s contorted face was like a demon’s, finally completely separate from Julian’s shadow… Wave after wave of searing pain shot through me as the hot tongs pried off my fingernails, one by one. “Why aren’t you screaming? You gave birth to a freak, and now you have the audacity to act crazy?” Sarah clutched her hand, crying a river of tears. “Ethan, it hurts so much…” Ethan immediately kicked me aside to console Sarah. Sarah’s eyes were red from crying, looking like a frightened rabbit. Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He wrapped his arms around her slender waist and kissed her deeply. “Don’t… Chloe’s still here.” “So what if she hears? What can she do?” I bit down hard on the inside of my lip, wishing I could tear them both limb from limb. Sarah clung to Ethan’s neck, giggling. “Isn’t this a bit too… stimulating, in here?” Ethan pushed her down onto the offering table. “You still have the mind for other things? Looks like I haven’t been working hard enough…” “Ethan, I’m scared of that little freak’s eyes…” Hearing this, Ethan turned, snatched Leo’s memorial photo, and smashed it on the ground. “Damn unlucky thing, spoiling my fun.” Leo’s photo flew into the embers and caught fire, the flames instantly engulfing the mourning banner. In the thick smoke, Ethan’s curses mingled with the crackling of burning wood. My eyelids twitched. I couldn’t hold on any longer. I fainted… When I woke up, Mrs. Jiang was sitting by my bed. Her face was haggard, with dark circles under her eyes. “Chloe, you’re awake?” I opened my mouth, but my throat was too dry and cracked to make a sound. Mrs. Jiang immediately handed me a glass of warm water. “The board is in an emergency meeting. We might not have a result for three days. I didn’t expect that man to have a contingency plan even after death, requiring a unanimous vote from the board to protect Ethan.” Mrs. Jiang held my hand, her voice hoarse. “But don’t worry, the ultimate power is still in my hands. Even if…” “Mom…” I interrupted suddenly. “Where’s Ellie?” Mrs. Jiang forced a reassuring smile. “I’ve already arranged for Ellie. She’s been sent to the best child psychology treatment center abroad. The doctor is a family friend. Ethan won’t find her.” The tension coiling in my nerves finally snapped. Tears streamed down my face. Mrs. Jiang was silent for a moment. Last night’s incident was known to everyone. She had just come out of the meeting room when she received an alert from the remote surveillance. She watched the entire recording. As soon as dawn broke, she had someone draft a document. Mrs. Jiang looked at me with guilt. “These are divorce papers. Sign them. Take Ellie… and never come back.” I pushed the papers away and shook my head. I might be free, but what about my Leo and Ellie? Who would avenge them? I wouldn’t let Ethan get away with just being dismissed and kicked out of the Vance family. I stared at my bandaged hands. “Mom, I still remember what Father-in-law said to me when he was alive… The Vance family motto: ‘Vance women are widowed, never divorced.’” Mrs. Jiang looked into my dead, lifeless eyes and suddenly covered her face, sobbing. “If only Julian were still alive… If only that child had made it through that winter…” I turned to look out the window. A dandelion seed floated in, twirling, and landed on my hand. Late that night, I climbed onto the slippery deck of the pirate ship ride in the deserted amusement park. The cartoon-painted ship swayed in the wind. “Leo’s not afraid…” I whispered, cradling the small porcelain urn that held a shard of his bone ash. “Mommy’s taking you… on the pirate ship…” The wind wasn’t strong, just enough to rock the pirate ship like a gentle swing. Leo and I both loved swings. Ethan was abroad for most of the year. I knew he hated me. If I hadn’t insisted on marrying him against everyone’s advice, Sarah would be the one by his side now. That year Ethan returned from studying abroad, he didn’t seem to like me. Especially after hearing my mother had killed herself over a non-existent marriage pact, forcing me into the Vance family, his eyes were always filled with disdain. He, on the other hand, favored Sarah, whom he’d met at university. I remembered six years ago, Mrs. Jiang had originally wanted to adopt me as her daughter. For so many years, I was supposedly her daughter-in-law-to-be, but it was more like being an adopted daughter. She gave me almost everything I asked for. She doted on me, cherished me, protected me. She always said my mother was her childhood savior, and even though they eventually went their separate ways, she wished her well. The moment I saw Ethan Vance’s face, I asked Mrs. Jiang for something for the first time. That day, Ethan smashed everything he could in the house, until Mrs. Jiang slapped him. “If you don’t marry Chloe Shang, you are no son of mine.” Ethan left home in silence. But after his accounts were frozen for a few days, he relented. Does a rich boy born with a silver spoon know where to go without money? Just like now, does Ethan Vance know that what he has was never truly his? At three in the morning, #VanceHeirAbandonsKidsForTryst exploded on social media. Surveillance footage showed Ethan taking a call and suddenly leaving his children in line. Shortly after, hotel security footage showed Ethan holding Sarah Ramsey as they entered an elevator… Before dawn, Mrs. Jiang froze all of Ethan Vance’s assets. 3. “Mr. Vance, bad news! Mrs. Vance is gone!” The assistant rushed in to report. GPS showed my last known location was the hospital, then I had vanished without a trace. Ethan sneered. “Where could she go? Ellie is still recovering. Don’t bother reporting such clumsy lies in the future.” The assistant lowered his head, speaking softly, “Mr. Vance, Miss Ellie is also gone.” Hearing this, Ethan froze, his body swaying. His phone suddenly vibrated. Ethan clicked it open, his expression growing darker. Sarah looked up. “Ethan, what’s wrong?” “My mother froze all my assets.” He gritted his teeth and quickly grabbed his things. “I have to go back to the old house.” Sarah immediately clutched his sleeve. “I’ll go with you. Auntie must have misunderstood.” “Shut up!” Ethan shake off her hand, but seeing her aggrieved expression, his tone softened. “Sarah, you’re pregnant now. Don’t get agitated.” Thirty minutes later, Ethan pushed open the gates of the old Vance family estate. “Mom, why did you freeze all my accounts?” In the family shrine, Mrs. Jiang stood with her back to him, gently wiping Leo’s memorial photo. “You still have the nerve to come back?” Mrs. Jiang’s voice was ice-cold, her fingers gently caressing the photo frame. “Leo is dead, Ellie can’t speak, Chloe is gone. Are you satisfied?” A look of dawning comprehension spread across Ethan’s face. “What game is Chloe playing now? Isn’t she just trying to force me home? Did she really need you and the assistant to play along with her act?” Sarah clung to his arm, cooing in agreement. “Exactly, Auntie. Chloe always likes to make a big fuss. Maybe the children weren’t even in any real trouble?” Mrs. Jiang backhanded him across the face, her hand striking with furous. She then ordered her men to hold Sarah and slap her. “Mom! What are you doing!” Ethan frowned and ordered everyone to stand down. Mrs. Jiang pointed at his face, her voice scathing. “You killed your own son for this woman, and now you’re blaming Chloe.” “The Vance family doesn’t have a descendant like you, who kills his son and abuses his wife!” Sarah’s mind raced. She immediately fell to her knees before Mrs. Jiang, her face a mask of tearful sorrow. “Auntie, please don’t blame Ethan. It’s all my fault.” “I know Chloe hates me, but Ethan and I are truly in love… If I had been the one to marry him back then, maybe the children wouldn’t have been harmed…” Her pitiful appearance made Ethan’s heart soften. “Sarah, it was never your fault. It was me…” “Silence!” Mrs. Jiang cut him off sharply, her eyes like daggers. “Sarah Ramsey, I gave you fifty million dollars back then to get out of the country. You promised you would never appear before Ethan again for the rest of your life!” Sarah’s face paled. She shrank back into Ethan’s embrace, whimpering, “Ethan, how can Auntie say such things about me…” Ethan rubbed his temples, irritated. “Mom, Sarah is pregnant with my child now. Can you please stop targeting her?” “Chloe, how long is she going to keep up this act? Conspiring with you to stage this grand drama of a dead son. Mom, you’re going along with this nonsense too.” “If it weren’t for those two little brats insisting on going to the amusement park on Memorial Day, would I have missed Sarah’s surgery? Now someone’s dead, and it’s suddenly my fault?” Mrs. Jiang trembled with rage. She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught her wrist sharply. “Mom, are you senile? Why did Leo die?” He turned to stare at the empty memorial hall, as if questioning the child who was no longer there. “He was five years old and still afraid to go to the bathroom by himself. Isn’t that because Chloe didn’t teach him properly?” A sudden flash of lightning outside illuminated his twisted face. “I told them to wait in line for their mother. I was training their courage. Boys should be brave. But Chloe…” His teeth ground together. “She couldn’t even look after one autistic freak. Does she even deserve to be a mother?” “Ethan Vance, are you even human?” Mrs. Jiang exploded, slapping him hard across the face. The force was so great that Ethan’s head snapped to the side, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. She was shaking all over, her aged fingers almost poking him in the eye. “Leo was only five! Ellie is only five! When that storm hit, where could they possibly hide? You told them to wait? Wait to die?” Ethan wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, a cold smirk on his face. “Mom, don’t let Chloe fool you. She…” “Shut up!” Mrs. Jiang grabbed a teacup from the offering table and hurled it at him. It shattered at his feet, splashing hot water on his pants, making him jump back. “Chloe has managed this household for years, taken care of the children. Are you blind? What have you ever done besides drink and party? Who stayed up for three days and nights to care for you when you were seriously ill? Who abased herself, begging for help when your company was in trouble? Ethan Vance, has your conscience been eaten by a dog?!” Ethan’s face was livid, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked. “She did all that, wasn’t it for the Vance family money?” “Money?” “Back then, I cherished Chloe like my own daughter. If not doted on and pampered, she was still someone I raised in the palm of my hand! Why would she need to marry you for money? Ethan Vance, do you know your son is dead? When he died, you were still with that woman getting beauty treatments!” These words made Ethan’s face change drastically. The flush of anger instantly drained away, leaving him pale and deflated. “My son… is dead?” Mrs. Jiang pressed a button on the remote. A projection screen slowly descended, and the surveillance footage played clearly: The amusement park in the pouring rain. Leo standing alone under the Ferris wheel. A strangely dressed person, completely covered, silently approached him and suddenly pushed him into the moving gears! Ethan’s pupils contracted violently. His heart felt as if it were being crushed by an invisible hand. “No… impossible…” He stumbled backward, his voice trembling. “Leo… it was an accident…” “Accident? Then listen to this!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392563”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I basically bought my brother’s dirt-poor driver. He didn’t have much money, but he had a killer tight waist and a perky ass. Standing still, he looked like a professional male model; moving, he was pure energy. Only problem? He was a total show-off, always buying knock-off luxury goods, stuff he claimed was worth millions. One day, I had him tied to the headboard, giving him a piece of my mind, when my brother suddenly called: “Weren’t you gonna ‘hire’ my driver? How come you haven’t hit him up yet?” I froze. Then who the hell was this guy in front of me? 1 My brother became nouveau riche overnight thanks to his viral TikTok dances. And me, his totally dependent little sister, rode his coattails right into the New York City socialite scene. But they always made fun of me, saying my clothes were tacky, my taste in food was basic, and I wouldn’t even dare hit on male models at clubs. I got so mad, I swore I’d find someone even hotter than a male model, someone who’d blow everyone away. My brother’s advice? “Then go for my driver. Saw him at the urinal once, dude’s packing.” If my brother said he was packing, it had to be true. After all, back in our small town, all the girls called him “The Stud.” 2 To save face, I immediately rushed to my brother’s company to find his driver. As soon as I got to the parking garage, I saw a tall, handsome guy standing in front of a luxury car. In front of him was an elegant woman, crying and tugging at his arm: “Ethan Vance, it’s just adding some girl’s contact info, why are you so against it!” Ethan Vance? Isn’t that my brother’s driver? My brother told me his driver, “Ethan,” had a rough childhood—abusive alcoholic dad, and his mom even tried to make him escort to pay off her debts. Sure enough, I heard “Ethan Vance” reply coldly, “I said no. I’m not interested in that kind of thing.” “You’re trying to kill me with anger!” His mother started hitting him. I saw red. Such a great body, what a waste if it got damaged! I rushed forward, got between them, and snapped: “Ma’am, you’re out of line! “Take this hundred grand and leave my Lily Chen’s man alone!” With that, I pulled out the check I’d prepared and shoved it at his mother, then told security to escort her out. His mother was still yelling, “Who dares touch me? Do you know who the Vance family is in NYC…” I completely ignored her. After all, only incompetent people resort to empty threats. After my heroic rescue, I figured “Ethan Vance” behind me must be totally smitten. Maybe he’d even throw himself at me and confess his love right then and there? 3 Turns out, the poorer they are, the prouder they get. When I turned around, blushing, I met “Ethan Vance’s” cold, handsome face. He looked anything but grateful, his thick brows furrowed, his sharp gaze fixed on me. The moment our eyes met, a shiver ran down my spine—painful, yet exhilarating. I finally understood why club models didn’t do it for me. Their eyes were too tame, they didn’t ignite my desire to conquer. But him? He was all thorns. And I loved it. I felt like I could make him fall head over heels for me. I cleared my throat, trying to sound composed. “Ethan, right? Hi, I’m Mr. Chen’s sister.” “Ethan?” He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, the pressure was intense. My legs felt like jelly. What the hell! I’m the one who just dropped a hundred grand! I’m the sugar mommy here! I was about to toughen up, but then I glanced at his tight waist and perky ass. Instantly, I softened, my voice gentle: “Ethan, you don’t have to be strong in front of me. It’s okay to cry, really. “My brother told me all about your family situation.” He narrowed his eyes, studying me. “My family situation?” he asked, his voice icy. Still playing tough. Seeing him pretend to be strong now, thinking about him possibly crying alone at night, my heart ached. “Wasn’t your mom just forcing you to add that woman’s contact? “Instead of getting pawed by old ladies at those clubs and maybe catching something, why not be with me? I’m healthy, I can wolf down two huge steaks in one sitting. “You won’t have to drive for my brother anymore. Just… keep me company in bed. “My brother pays you, what, ten grand a month? I’ll give you five times that—fifty thousand! “If you don’t want people to know I’m keeping you, just say we’re dating. When it’s over, you can say you dumped me.” After I said all that, I was moved by my own “generosity.” I wasn’t just a sugar mommy; I was a freaking savior! But his face grew colder, and then he turned to leave. That tall back of his looked exactly like mine when I pretend to walk away after a failed haggle at the market. I knew I should wait for him to turn back first. But his beauty had addled my brain. I grit my teeth, hurried forward, and grabbed his hand. “Eighty thousand! Eighty thousand, okay? “If you walk out now and your mom comes looking for trouble again, I’m not getting involved!” That stopped him. 4 I felt like the sugar baby arrangement hadn’t even started, and this man already had my heart in a vise. Just five minutes ago, he’d turned around, his long fingers tilting my chin up, his cold eyes scrutinizing me. His gaze was like a sharp blade, so cutting, so fierce… yet it thrilled me. My heart pounded like a drum, my mouth was dry, and my whole body felt hot. I felt like if he just called me “baby” right then, I’d turn feral, pin him against the wall, and give him my life. So, this was what love felt like! But he only let me bask in it for three minutes before pulling his hand away with a smirk and a “tsk.” “Fine. “If my mom shows up and harasses me again, you deal with her.” He agreed! I immediately whipped out my phone, added him on a messaging app, and transferred the eighty thousand dollar “sponsorship” fee. His profile pic showed him in a racing suit, leaning casually against a race car, devastatingly handsome. But I could tell with one glance it was Photoshopped. That car was worth nearly a hundred million, supposedly belonging to the heir of the Vance family, one of NYC’s top dogs. My brother said his driver, Ethan, was a nice guy but very flashy, loved to act rich. Sure enough, he didn’t accept the eighty thousand immediately. He just gave it a lazy glance, as if he couldn’t care less. I had to admit, he played the part well. But I knew, with his leeching parents, he’d probably never seen so much money in his life. He must be freaking out inside. I tentatively reached out and successfully took his hand. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he looked at me with an excited glint in his eyes. “Nervous?” I said no, but I couldn’t help swallowing hard. He chuckled. “Nervous just holding hands, and you’re trying to play sugar mommy?” I got angry. “What are you talking about! Is that any way to talk to your benefactor!” 5 Pissing off your sugar mommy has serious consequences. But my little toyboy didn’t seem to get that. On the way, I put on an angry face, but he just casually scrolled through his phone, ignoring me. I silently cursed myself for paying him the full amount too quickly. If I’d only fronted him forty thousand, maybe his attitude would be better. Rookie mistake! When we got to my apartment, I planned to keep giving him the cold shoulder, to show him who was boss. But he didn’t even look at me, just took off his clothes and went into the bathroom. Listening to the water running, I felt like I was the driver, escorting the prince home for his bath. I’m the sugar mommy here! If he’s showering, he should be showering for me to watch! With that thought, I felt bold and swaggered over to the bathroom door, flinging it open. He was standing with his back to me under the showerhead, frowning at me as I barged in. “Out.” 6 It was steamy, but his Captain America butt was still faintly visible. This successfully inflated my lusty courage. “Insolent! What do you mean, ‘out’! “This is my house, and you’re the man I’m keeping!” I strutted in, hands on my hips, right in front of him. “I want to watch you shower now, inspect the goods. Can’t I do that? “I need to see if the merchandise is… up to par, right?” He looked like I’d amused him. Suddenly, he turned around magnanimously. “Sure, if you’ve got the guts to stare. Don’t get so flustered you faint.” Water droplets covered his full, sexy pecs, trickling down, past his V-taper and Adonis belt… My gaze traveled lower. My first reaction wasn’t about whether it was as big as my brother said. Instead, I blurted out, “It’s so ugly.” His previously amused expression suddenly changed, then quickly darkened. His icy tone had a hint of gritted teeth. “Lily Chen, say that again?” “You dare call your sugar mommy by her first name! “I’m saying you’re all show and no go! So ugly I don’t even want to use it!” Actually, my face was about to explode from blushing. I didn’t dare take a second look. I finished speaking and turned to run. But he grabbed me, pinned me against the wet tiles, his large hand pressing my head down… “Lily Chen, look again and then tell me!” I was forced to look very clearly. It was like standing on a mountaintop, watching a giant dragon soaring through a jungle. I suddenly understood why my ex-sister-in-law said she didn’t like big ones. Just looking at it gave me a phantom pain, like it could touch my tonsils. Pain, so much pain! 7 But I couldn’t lose my sugar mommy dignity, or how would I manage my future harem? So, I grit my teeth and insisted: “S-say what! “This thing… it’s clearly not the real deal, all talk no action! It’s been ages and it’s not even… started. Are you useless or something!” He seemed to laugh out of anger. Suddenly, he bent down, scooped up my butt, and lifted me. In my fantasies, I’d be like a tigress, wild and seductive, ready to clamp down on him in minutes. But in reality, I was like a modern-day college student: all dirty talk online, but a virgin in real life. When his handsome face got close, my brain short-circuited. My limbs went stiff, like a zombie. He bent his head, his beautiful thin lips pressing hard against mine. “Am I giving you CPR?” he frowned. “Stick your tongue out.” I immediately stuck my tongue out. He stared at me, tongue out like a lizard, his face extremely dark. He raised a hand and just… tossed me. I landed on the toilet, my butt almost getting stuck. He looked down at me, then suddenly smirked. “Need help peeing, kiddo?” Ah! He’s so handsome when he smiles! Wait, he dared to call me a kiddo! 8 I thought after getting a toyboy, I’d be carried around, called “baby,” and bubbling with happiness. But the reality was, I was covered in soap bubbles, looking like an idiot. And “Ethan” had just put on his clothes and slammed the door on his way out. Even an emperor returning unwanted goods would have eunuchs wrap them up and carry them away. But me, the sugar mommy, I almost got stuck in the toilet! My wallet hurt, my heart hurt. Full of resentment, I called my brother, ready to play the victim. My brother said, “I’m out of town doing a livestream, I dunno! But I heard from people at my company that driver Ethan’s over there bawling his eyes out.” I paused. “Why is he crying?” “Ethan said he met a girl he likes today, wanted to act cool, but messed it up and thinks he made her angry. “Oh man, that guy, he was crying a river!” Hearing that, my anger vanished. So, that’s what he was thinking. My heart felt warm and sweet. That damn man, why try to act cool with his sugar mommy? Was he afraid I’d get tired of him quickly? Sigh, whatever. As long as he’s willing to put in some effort for me, that’s enough. 9 I sent “Ethan” a text, asking where he was. He didn’t reply. I was worried he was so heartbroken he’d jumped into a river. Then I saw someone in the socialite group chat post a photo. The background looked like NYC’s most exclusive club. A bunch of rich kids were drinking and showing off. And my toyboy, Ethan, was standing right in the middle, knocking back a shot of something strong. The socialites around him were like vultures, their eyes practically glued to him. Great. Here I was worried about him, and he was out moonlighting, entertaining rich women! I hauled ass to the club. When I pushed open the door, a socialite was bending over to hand him a drink, her tone even more fawning than mine: “Mr. Vance, I was wondering if it would be convenient for me to visit your home tomorrow…” It was the same socialite who once laughed at me for not daring to grope male models! I strode forward, snatched the drink, and pulled “Ethan” behind me. “Stay away from him! He’s my man now!” Afraid I wasn’t convincing enough, I turned, wrapped my arms around his neck, stood on my tiptoes, and kissed him hard. Luckily, I’d crammed on kissing techniques on the way over. Now, my tongue was like an eel, knew exactly where to go. “Ethan” seemed very satisfied with my improved kissing skills. His arm wrapped around my waist, deepening the kiss. He took the lead, his assault powerful, kissing me until my face was flushed and I almost lost myself in it. After the kiss, I wiped a string of saliva from my lips and said to the socialite: “See? My man. V-taper, Captain America butt, and way bigger than any male model’s.” I think when I said that, my aura must have been incredibly powerful and dominan. Otherwise, why would all the rich kids in the room be stunned? The way they looked at me—shock, fear, but mostly admiration. Like a deep, heartfelt admiration. I thought, this must be it: a confident woman is the most beautiful. 10 I said my piece and dragged “Ethan” out. Before leaving, he turned back to the room and said, “Nothing happened here tonight.” I was a little touched. He was clearly there working a side gig, but to protect me, he dared to talk to clients like that. But after we left the club, I still told him earnestly: “You shouldn’t talk to them like that in the future. They’re ruthless, and their bodyguards will beat people up. “They were too scared to move just now because they were afraid of me. If I weren’t there, you’d definitely have been beaten up! “Got it?” Seeing his lazy, calm expression, I got angry and jumped up to pinch his ear. “Hey! Did you hear me! I’m talking to you!” He finally looked down at me, but his gaze landed on my lips. Suddenly, he said, “Pretty soft. Let’s kiss again.” “Wh-what?” Before I could react, he tilted my chin up with his fingers and kissed me. More intense, wilder than the kiss in the private room. He seemed addicted, his lips and tongue chasing mine, tangling with them. I don’t even know how I got home. It was only when I was pressed onto the bed that I realized, “The car we were in just now, was that a Rolls-Royce?!” He was busy unbuttoning my shirt. “Oh, just picked one up from the dealership.” “I only give you eighty grand, and you immediately go rent a car to show off! You spendthrift! “If you keep this up, I’m halving your allowance! Let’s see you try to act rich then!” I was furious. I tried to flip over and straddle him, to poke his pecs and give him a stern lesson. But he pulled off my jeans and pressed me back into the covers.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392582”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My wealthy roommate, Brittany, despised me for being from a small town, And rallied her clique to ostracize me. Loudly, she’d announce to the dorm that she was inviting everyone to her favorite pop star’s concert. When someone asked if I should come along, She’d sneer: “Look at the clothes she wears, clearly from some discount online store.” “Taking someone like that to my idol’s concert? How embarrassing!” Later, her secret crush wore the very same T-shirt I bought from that discount online store, and confessed his feelings for me at the campus singing competition. 1 “Brittany, you and Ethan are just perfect together!” It was 9PM. I hadn’t even reached the door yet, but I could already hear my roommates’ excited chatter from afar. The moment I opened the door, Brittany’s expression was as if she’d seen something unclean. She immediately hid her poster, scrambled onto her top bunk, clutched her nose, and peered over the edge of her bed, looking at me with undisguised disdain. “Cassie, you stink!” I had just finished my shift at a busy diner, so I probably did have a bit of a scent clinging to me, but I’d already changed into fresh clothes and even brought them bubble tea. “Sorry, Brittany. I’ll shower right away. Here’s the bubble tea I brought for you all.” Olivia, one of my roommates, happily took her tea, murmuring thanks. “Hmph. Such cheap bubble tea. Even a dog wouldn’t drink it.” Brittany said this with her lips curled downwards, looking utterly repulsed. My roommates, seeing her sour expression, quietly returned the bubble tea to me. “Oh, sorry, Cassie! I’m on a diet lately.” “I can’t sleep if I drink bubble tea.” I made $15 an hour from my part-time job, and each bubble tea cost $13. I’d bought three for them, not even indulging myself. I bit back my tears, forced a faint smile, set the bubble tea aside, and headed for the shower. “Her poverty stench is disgusting me. Does anyone have an air freshener?” Listening to their blatant insults, watching my belongings carelessly tossed aside, I hid in the bathroom, crying silently. It had been a year. I had tried to fit in, as my Dean of Students advised. But all I got in return was increasingly aggressive ostracism. Brittany had bought the washing machine, so I understood why she forbade me from using it. But why couldn’t I even hang my clothes on the dorm balcony? They always took half an hour or more to shower, yet they would frantically rush me if I took more than ten minutes. Every night, they’d blast their pop star videos until two or three in the morning, then complain the next day that my early morning class woke them up. … Grin and bear it, and you’ll just get sick. I decided to reject mental self-sabotage. If there was trouble, I’d just go wild. 2 The next day, they skipped all their afternoon classes to get ready for the concert that night. I returned to the dorm after my classes to find my belongings completely ransacked and scattered everywhere. “Cassie, you little thief, give me back my necklace!” Before I could even lose it, Brittany rushed at me like a madwoman. “What necklace?” I looked utterly confused. “Cassie, don’t play innocent! In this dorm, besides you, who would steal something?” Brittany’s loud voice immediately drew the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’ve never seen any necklace of yours, much less stolen it.” The three of them always went everywhere together, never including me. I had no idea she even owned such a thing. The onlookers, eager for drama, all asked what the necklace looked like, curious if anyone had seen it. “It’s a necklace endorsed by Jax, my idol! I bought it specially for tonight’s concert.” Brittany cried as she pulled out her phone, opening her photo gallery. “Brittany, without any proof, don’t keep accusing me of stealing.” I knew I was innocent, but I feared she’d twist the truth and damage my reputation for future scholarship applications. “You’re always secretly using my skincare products when we’re not around, don’t think I don’t know.” Brittany’s baseless accusation infuriated me. Her things were often scattered, and sometimes she didn’t even know if something was lost or misplaced, but whenever she couldn’t find something, she’d imply in the dorm that I had stolen it. “Seriously? Who’d want to use your skincare products? Anyone who uses them ends up with terrible breakouts, okay?” “Fine! Let’s see who ends up with a ruined face from using whose!” As Brittany started railing at me, her clique joined in, launching a full-scale assault. “Cassie, have some boundaries, okay?” “Yeah, it’s disgusting living with someone who’s always shoplifting like you.” “Oh really? Well, today I’m going to see who truly has no boundaries.” With that, I walked straight to their desks and began searching. “Brittany, is this the Fenty eyeshadow palette you accused me of stealing?” “Is this your NARS blush?” “Is this your Dior lipstick?” I placed each found item in front of Brittany, her eyes wide with disbelief. Because she knew, Olivia and Sophia weren’t much better off than me, just regular girls. “Brittany, don’t listen to her, she’s just trying to frame us.” “Yeah, Brittany. She’s just jealous that you’re friends with us and not with her.” Seeing their lies exposed, the two quickly moved to Brittany’s side, gripping her hands. “Brittany, you’re not stupid, are you? Didn’t you ever suspect anything about the makeup they usually wear?” I stood to the side, fanning the flames, thoroughly enjoying the show. “Uh, Brittany, that necklace on your phone… I think I’ve seen Cassie wear something similar.” Harper, a student from the next dorm, catching a glimpse of the photo on Brittany’s phone, suddenly blurted out. 3 “Cassie, it was you after all! A thief crying thief!” Brittany snapped back to reality, yelling that she would tell the Dean of Students. The surrounding students all urged her not to blow things out of proportion. “Cassie, if you took it, just give it back!” “Yeah! If the Dean finds out, you might get a demerit!” “I didn’t.” I stood my ground, unmoving. “You didn’t? Do you dare open your drawer right now, in front of all these students?” Brittany’s makeup was streaked from crying, a clear sign she wasn’t going to let me off easy today. I didn’t argue. I pulled the key from my bag and unlocked my drawer. Brittany roughly shoved me aside and started rummaging through it herself. “What are you doing? Those are my things.” I was about to stop her, but her clique held me back. “What’s this?” After emptying the cabinet, she finally found a necklace and dangled it in front of me. “That’s mine.” I stepped forward, trying to snatch it back, but she sidestepped, making me miss. “You say it’s yours, so tell me, where did you buy it? Do you have the order number? A receipt?” Her questions left me speechless. In reality, someone had forced it around my neck, and I had completely forgotten about it. “What, speechless now? Did I hit a nerve? Feeling guilty?” Brittany laughed triumphantly, like a victor. “Someone gave it to me. I don’t have a receipt, and I don’t have an order number.” “Hmph, then call him out! I’d like to see what kind of person would be interested in you, dressed in cheap discount store clothes.” Brittany’s challenging glare shot straight at me, making me deeply uncomfortable. “He’s busy today, not on campus.” Although a certain someone would drop everything for me, and even wanted me to publicly acknowledge our relationship, I didn’t want to drag him into this and make him witness such ugliness. “Hahahaha, Cassie, do you even hear yourself?!” The surrounding students looked at me with suspicion, tacitly assuming I was the thief, whispering and pointing. Brittany watched my humiliation, her eyes gleaming with cunning and triumph. I seized an opportune moment when she wasn’t paying attention, snatched the necklace back, and held it high, allowing the code on the back of the pendant to clearly show in the light. “This necklace, each one is unique. The code hidden in the pendant contains a vow of love. Just check it, and you’ll know if I’m lying.” “I’ve seen interviews with Jax, and I think there’s something like that.” A few students stepped forward, confirming my statement. “Hmph, I’d like to see what tricks you can pull!” Brittany opened the official website, entered her ID number, and looked up the necklace’s code. Everyone leaned in, their eyes focused on the necklace and the phone. “They really are different, wow.” Brittany’s face instantly changed. She quickly snatched back her phone. “So what if it’s different? That doesn’t mean she didn’t steal it, does it?” “My necklace has a three-digit code. Do you think I’d even care about your eight-digit junk necklace?!” The fewer digits in this necklace’s code, the purer and more exclusive the love it represented; eight-digit codes were for regular, non-limited editions. Luckily, a certain someone’s cheesy romantic lines had some effect. “Could she be… kept? Otherwise, where would a country girl like you get the money to buy something like that?” Brittany’s passive-aggressive tone made me want to punch her. “Does spreading rumors make you feel accomplished? Believe it or not, I’ll call the police right now and charge you with defamation.” “You…” Brittany’s face flushed crimson with anger, and she was speechless. “Brittany, I’m telling you. If you don’t apologize to me, pack up my things, and compensate me for my losses, this isn’t over between us.” Brittany was about to continue arguing, but Olivia pulled her aside. “Brittany, your last disciplinary action hasn’t been lifted yet. It’s not good to blow things up.” “Yeah, if we keep arguing, we’ll be late for the concert too.” Brittany, after a moment of hesitation and thought, took out her phone and transferred ten thousand dollars to me on her banking app. “Cassie, I won’t touch your things, and I won’t apologize to you. Just be smart, take the money, and shut your mouth.” I took out my phone and looked, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. I’m quite fond of money, and since I had the moral high ground, I certainly wouldn’t turn it down. “Thanks! If you have too much money you don’t know what to do with, feel free to pull a few more stunts. I’m more than happy to see them through.” That night, they returned to the dorm after the concert, constantly eyeing me with strange expressions. Brittany deliberately pushed Olivia towards me, subtly trying to get information. “Cassie! What’s your relationship with Noah?” 4 Noah is the heartthrob of the Computer Science department, and also Brittany’s secret crush. “Is something wrong?” After the afternoon’s commotion, the atmosphere in the dorm had become noticeably awkward. “Well, we saw him downstairs near the dorm earlier, and he asked if we knew you. He wanted us to bring you some late-night snacks.” Brittany sat in her chair, occasionally sneaking glances at me, clearly eager for my answer. “Oh, really? So, where are the snacks?” I casually tidied my desk, a little distracted. “Brittany said she didn’t know you, so she didn’t take them.” Olivia scratched her head, looking a bit embarrassed. I shrugged, feigning indifference. “So, what’s your relationship with him?” Olivia, under Brittany’s intimidating gaze, nervously pressed on. “Guess.” I let a slight, playful smile play on my lips. “Guess what? How could Noah even like her? A country bumpkin, utterly tasteless.” Brittany leaped from her chair, her face etched with impatience. “No need to guess. The truth is exactly what you’re imagining.” I said this, a faint smile playing on my lips, making it sound like a joke. They stared at me blankly, clearly not believing a word I said. “No, it’s not a joke!” I dropped my playful expression, turning serious. “Hmph! You say it is, then it is? If you’re so brave, video call him right now!” Seeing Brittany’s half-skeptical, half-challenging look, I almost burst out laughing. “Why should I listen to you?” Brittany’s lips pressed into a thin line, her teeth grinding audibly. “Noah is my idol, he’s my guy. I won’t allow you to fabricate a relationship with him.” Watching Brittany seethe with frustration was incredibly satisfying. “In that case, why don’t you ask him?” I paused for a moment, then pursed my lips into a smile, continuing. “Could it be… you don’t even have his number? Oh, how sad.” Brittany, hit by my words, glared at me fiercely, her hands clenched into fists, knuckles white with strain. “Though, you did say you didn’t know me when you were in front of him earlier. Otherwise, I would’ve given you his number.” A subtle, mocking smile played on my lips. Brittany finally couldn’t take it anymore. Tears welled up in her eyes, eventually spilling down her cheeks in crystal drops.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392599”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Five years ago, Summer Peterson, the younger sister of a mutual friend, fell for Daniel Stone at first sight. Everyone laughed, telling me, “She’s just a middle schooler. What does she know about love?” Daniel himself repeatedly stated he only saw her as a child. But the young girl remained undeterred, constantly encouraging herself. On the night of her eighteenth birthday, she confessed her feelings to Daniel once more. That night, Daniel smiled, a mix of helplessness and indulgence. “Kid, I guess I’m really stuck with you.” Watching Daniel, usually so reserved, speak so softly and tenderly to the girl he had practically watched grow up, I suddenly felt exhausted. I chose an ordinary day and personally handed him the divorce papers. I sat opposite Daniel, my demeanor as calm as if we were discussing a business deal. “Our son is yours. I’m giving up custody.” “You can keep living in this house. I’ll pack up tomorrow and move out.” His hands clasped together, his gaze fixed on me, heavy and unwavering. He clearly didn’t understand why I was suddenly making such a “whimsical” decision. “Claire,” his eyes held a faint, distant emotion, “if this is about Summer, I apologize. But you know I only see her as a child.” He patiently explained, still convinced I was overreacting. I remembered the night my blood sugar dropped. Daniel, having finished work, sat at his desk, constantly glancing at his phone as if waiting for a message. As I stumbled and collapsed by the sofa, he was listening to Summer on the phone, talking about her period cramps. Before, our marriage, while not passionate, was at least respectful. But at that moment, he pulled his gaze away from me, gently instructing the voice on the other end: “Have someone at home brew you some warm herbal tea.” And our son, Ethan, seeing his father’s lack of reaction, casually pushed me with his foot from where he lay sprawled on the sofa: “Mom, can you move? You’re blocking my blocks.” It turned out, in their eyes, I, who always gave without question, wasn’t even worth a single word of concern, less important than a toy. Eight years of marriage ended abruptly, with nothing more than two signatures. As I packed my bags, Daniel methodically outlined the property division. I barely listened—my lawyer would handle it more professionally. As I dragged my suitcase out the door, he called out from behind me, his eyes deep: “Claire, you still have a lot of things. No need to rush moving out.” The house was filled with my belongings, but my suitcase only held a few seasonal clothes. He probably misunderstood, thinking I intended to leave with nothing. “I’m not planning to abandon everything,” I said. “Just have the housekeeper organize my things and ship them to me later.” Marriage was, at its core, a partnership of interests. I didn’t need to prove anything by walking away empty-handed, especially since I was not at fault. Daniel opened his mouth, then closed it, saying nothing more. He followed me out. As I stepped through the main door, he suddenly reached out to stop me: “Are you going back to your parents’ place? How are you going to tell them?” I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. They won’t bother you.” In my peripheral vision, Ethan peeked out from the doorway, watching me silently. His gaze tugged at my heart—after all, he was the child I had carried for ten months, soothed countless times through sleepless nights. I wanted to say “I’m sorry” to him, to offer a few words of caution, so I put down my suitcase and turned. But then I heard him ask Daniel, “Dad, when is Summer going to take me to see the race cars?” That faint pull in my heart instantly vanished. I said nothing more, turning to leave. “I’ll have the driver take you.” “No need.” I refused curtly, not bothering to look back at the calm, indifferent father and son. I bought a train ticket to a quiet coastal town in the Pacific Northwest. Outside the window, a fine mist clung to the mountains and water, like an ink painting. Daniel’s and my marriage began as a family arrangement. In the first few years, I was content with our respectful, almost formal, relationship. I had never seen his gentle side until Summer appeared. She showed me that he could be attentive and caring, like a warm older brother. For these past five years, everyone had told me, “She’s just a young girl, don’t take it to heart.” “What does a middle schooler know about love?” “It’s normal for high schoolers to idolize someone. It’ll fade in a while.” “You’ve been married for so many years. Why are you competing with a young girl?” As if any slight dissatisfaction I showed towards Summer was irrational. So I constantly told myself, “Claire, don’t be so petty.” But Summer still, little by little, permeated Daniel’s and my life— Her handwriting began to mirror his stroke, he remembered her period cycle clearly, her name was constantly on Ethan’s lips. There were no overt boundary crossings, it was just… like this. Oh, right. The night I collapsed from low blood sugar was also the “100-Day Video Anniversary” between Summer and him. 4. After settling into the Pacific Northwest, My best friend, Harper, and I explored many places. Blue tiled roofs peeked over white walls, small bridges arched over winding streams, and moss clung to cobblestone paths. Every corner exuded a sense of boundless freedom. We never tired of it. But on the third night, Harper’s emotions erupted, and she poured herself drink after drink. Tears streaming down her face, she asked me, “You still haven’t answered why men are so obsessed with their idealized first loves.” Harper was different from me. She and Liam had been together for seven years, starting in college, a true love story that led to marriage. By all accounts, they should have been blissfully happy. But Liam had a high school ex-girlfriend, a girl he had romanticized into his “white moonlight” over those seven years. The night I filed for divorce, Harper’s marriage also shattered. That night, Liam brought his ex back home, right into their bedroom. Harper calmly waited for them to get dressed, then proposed divorce. I thought carefully about her question. Suddenly, the whole “white moonlight” concept felt like a false premise. The moon doesn’t emit light; it merely reflects the sun’s rays, fabricating its own brilliance. Adorned with stolen glory, how could it possibly remain bright, forever hanging high in one’s heart? So——”A ‘white moonlight’ is nothing more than a trite excuse for them to hide their sordid intentions.” Harper didn’t seem to need my answer. She buried her head in her knees, already sobbing uncontrollably. For a fleeting moment, I felt that marriage was utterly dreadful. When Daniel’s call came, I felt as if I were still lost in a heartbreak-induced dream. He seemed to have been drinking, his voice low and hoarse. “Claire, where are the hangover pills at home? And the stomach medicine?” I paused, then replied, “The stomach medicine is in the top shelf of the medicine cabinet in the study.” Daniel moved a few steps, and I heard rustling on the phone, faintly laced with impatience. I waited a moment, then asked, “Did you find it?” The rustling stopped. “Found the stomach medicine.” He paused. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I usually don’t pay attention, so I didn’t know where it was.” I hummed in acknowledgment, then instructed him, “Next time, if you need anything, you can ask the housekeeper. She knows everything. Don’t call me to bother me.” He was silent for a long moment, then mumbled, “Okay.” There were no hangover pills at home, only the hangover soup I always prepared in advance. In the past, when it came to Daniel and Ethan, I never let anyone else handle things. I enjoyed doing everything for them, as if that was how I found my worth. Later, I realized I was wrong. Thankfully, “Even at dusk, the sky is still full of fiery clouds.” 5. A night of heavy drinking, sometimes lucid, sometimes muddled. I was caught in a bizarre, fragmented dream. There was the 800-meter race, finished with gritted teeth. There was the joy of standing on stage, dreams realized, only to be met with a painful slap backstage. There was the park where Daniel and I walked hand-in-hand, the sunset vibrant. A jumble of good and bad, ultimately coalescing into a jarring ringtone. I jolted awake, disoriented. I fumbled for my phone on the bedside table. It was an unknown number. I pressed answer, and the voice, which had haunted me like a nightmare for five years, returned. “Claire, Ethan invited me to their school’s model race car exhibition next week. Do you have any photos of your old handicrafts? Could you send them to me? I’m worried if I make something too good, the style will be too different from what you made before.” I closed my eyes. “My old pieces are in the display cabinet at home. You can go…” “The housekeeper cleared out the house, and those things were thrown away as trash,” she added, “Ethan told her to.” My fingertips grew cold, a sense of utter helplessness washing over me. I looked at the morning light streaming through the window, my voice very faint: “Ms. Peterson, I think you’re more concerned with the future, so whether it’s the style of the work, or Daniel, or Ethan, just do as you please.” “You don’t need to specifically inform me of anything. I never stopped you from interfering in another family’s life before, and I certainly won’t now.” “As for Ethan’s name, I wish you all the best. Once you reach legal age, you can personally change it for him in your capacity as his stepmother.” “Buddy” was the nickname Summer gave Ethan; she found “Ethan” too old-fashioned. Perhaps out of resentment, I had never adopted that name. The purpose of this call was clear to both of us. I was no longer eighteen, so I wasn’t interested in playing games of veiled words. But an eighteen-year-old girl’s pride is thin, after all. Her stuttered rebuttal was cut short by me: “Is Ethan with you?” A rustling noise came from the phone, followed by faint breathing. I thought he was probably waiting for me to speak. I sighed: “Ethan, you know I’m not your mom anymore. I won’t be looking after you from now on, so you don’t need to use others to upset me.” The call probably served different purposes for each of us. But it no longer concerned me. With that, I lifted my hand and hung up. 6. I was far from as composed as I appeared; a bitter sadness swelled within me. I can’t even pinpoint when Ethan started favoring Summer. In the beginning, Daniel wasn’t willing to marry me. Our marriage, before it began, was preceded by many acts of rebellion. There was me secretly entering competitions, dreaming of overnight stardom, hoping to bring prestige to our family. There was Daniel, in a cold war with his family over his girlfriend, trying to run away time and again. There was me, kneeling before my parents, begging repeatedly. There was Daniel, after countless acts of defiance, attempting to take his own life. I finally caved under the phrase, “You’ve enjoyed every privilege, so you should create value for the family.” As for why Daniel compromised, I had no way of knowing. Actually, later, in a hazy memory, I recalled seeing another side of him. The original Daniel was an open book, a talkative, cheerful young man. It was through our repeated interactions that he slowly became quiet and reserved, masking all his emotions. Later, as if completing a necessary ritual, we got married. Three years into the marriage, Ethan was born. In the fifth year, Summer appeared. Summer was fifteen then, a bright-eyed middle schooler, cheerful and constantly chattering around Daniel. Daniel, of course, wouldn’t take a fifteen-year-old seriously, just as others told me, “What does a middle schooler know about love?” He simply used Summer as an outlet, a way to express the other side of himself that he kept hidden. So, two extremes emerged. The calm and aloof Daniel in front of me became a gentle, smiling older brother in front of that young girl. And a child’s development is always a reflection of their upbringing and learned behavior. They are adept at learning; a father’s attitude toward the mother determines the child’s attitude toward the mother. As Ethan grew, he became increasingly distant towards me. He resented my strictness and preferred to bond with Daniel and Summer. He would unhappily say, “You only know how to control me. Summer isn’t like that.” He would also innocently ask, “Mommy, how can you not even know this? Summer is so much better than you.” Children, in fact, are far smarter than we give them credit for. Ethan discovered that every time he said things like that, I would silently turn away. He started using Summer more and more to hurt me. I had told him that it was wrong. But his father hadn’t. Daniel continued to subtly tell him, “Well done!” through his actions. So, inviting Summer and destroying the handicrafts I had helped him with, It was just Ethan, in what he believed was a perfectly natural way, intentionally trying to upset me. 7. Harper said the blues in Tromsø, Norway, were beautiful. We immediately bought tickets for the next day. Hiking along the snowy mountains, as we were about to reach the summit, I received another call from Daniel. I didn’t know if he couldn’t find something again. But we had already made things clear last time. I didn’t answer; I just hung up. After reaching the summit, Harper and I were awestruck by the incredible stillness and power of the landscape. In that silence, she suddenly burst into tears. It was as if this hike was her journey of self-redemption. Strangers who had hiked alongside us offered kind words of comfort. Harper wiped her tears. “It’s nothing, I just feel like I’ve been ripped off these past few years!” “Hey, little sister, the road ahead is long. It’s never too late to find your way back.” I had intended to wipe away a tear myself, to fit the mood, but I ended up laughing at the kind accent and philosophical words of a local hiker. As we all chatted, my phone in my bag rang. I pulled it out and glanced at it. It was a video from Ethan. Daniel I could ignore, but Ethan was different. From both a legal and a blood perspective, I couldn’t completely sever ties with him. So I opened it. The moment the video started, my blood instantly froze. I stared blankly at the playing screen, utterly frozen. Harper, seeing my stillness, leaned closer. Then her face suddenly changed. She snatched my phone, frantically pressing delete.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392616”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel