I found a ring. The moment I slipped it on, Liam Sterling, the hottest guy on campus, fell head over heels for me, pursuing me with a furious intensity.
I was just… average. Yet, he swore I was the most beautiful girl in the world. Even his friends thought he’d lost his mind, scoffing that love was truly blind, that he’d mistaken a dull pebble for a dazzling diamond.
After six months with Liam, I gradually began to accept this bizarre reality. My defenses crumbled. I let my guard down, opened my heart, and went home with him.
But the next morning, my ring was gone. Liam, his eyes wide with panic, shoved me away. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice laced with terror.
He broke up with me, painting me as some kind of monster to his friends. “The Sarah I knew wasn’t like this,” he snarled, a visceral disgust twisting his features. “It’s sick. I actually spent half a year with that woman.”
Time rewound. The ring had flung me back six months. It turned out this magical artifact could transform me into my crush’s ideal woman. I stared at the ring, a profound unease settling in my chest. This time, I didn’t put it on. Instead, I locked it away, vowing never to touch it again.
What I hadn’t expected was that Liam had been dragged back in time with me.
1
After ditching Chloe Evans, she surprisingly didn’t go to the party that night.
“Liam didn’t even show up,” she mumbled, looking utterly crestfallen. “He’s apparently sick or something…”
I paused, then offered a few words of comfort. “Maybe next time, then.”
Chloe latched onto my arm, pouting. “Sarah, you have to come with me to the next gathering. It’s always all guys, and I’m the only girl. It’s so awkward.”
I chuckled, gently pushing her hand away. “Why don’t you ask Lucy to go with you instead?”
Chloe’s expression flickered. “She’s not going. Please, Sarah, please say you’ll come. I’m begging you!”
I knew exactly why Chloe was so desperate to drag me along. Lucy Miller was stunning, and Chloe couldn’t stand anyone stealing her thunder. I, on the other hand, was perfectly plain – a dutiful backdrop, easy to overlook.
In my previous life, I’d gone with Chloe to that very gathering. But everyone there had been utterly floored. Liam hadn’t even glanced at Chloe. Instead, his gaze had been utterly fixated on me, the unassuming sidekick.
After the party, Liam had launched into a whirlwind courtship. At first, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I figured it was just some twisted game, a prank cooked up by the campus royalty. But Liam’s relentless pursuit and genuine demeanor slowly chipped away at my skepticism.
He was undeniably good to me. No matter how much his friends warned him off, he remained steadfast. I saw the sincerity in his eyes, and little by little, he won me over. We became a couple.
But the moment I truly gave him my heart, after a night of shared intimacy, Liam transformed.
He shrieked, practically throwing me out of his apartment, swearing he’d never seen me before in his life. I felt like I’d fallen straight into hell. Back at the dorm, I realized my ring was gone. I had no choice but to return to Liam’s place to find it.
When I got back, Liam was surrounded by his friends. His face was a mask of repulsion, pure nausea etched into every line. “The Sarah I knew wasn’t like this,” he spewed, his voice raw with disgust. “It’s sick. I actually spent half a year with that woman! What the hell happened?!”
I stood frozen in the doorway, my soul feeling ripped from my body.
The next second, time rewound. I was back before Liam had ever even known me. That very ring, the one that had dropped from my finger, now sat quietly in my desk drawer.
I tore open the packaging and pulled out the instructions nestled inside the box.
This ring possesses magic. Wear it, and you will become the ideal version of your secret crush.
The explanation stated that because my “mission” to win Liam over had failed, the ring had sent me back six months. I stared at the ring, a profound unease churning within me. But I didn’t put it on again. Instead, I locked it away in my closet, vowing never to touch it.
2
A few days later, Chloe was begging me again.
Liam had organized another gathering, specifically inviting Chloe and telling her to bring her roommates.
“Sarah, please, please, just come with me!”
Annoyed, I called out from my bunk, “Liam said you could bring your roommates, right? So everyone in the dorm can go. Why don’t you ask them? Whoever wants to go out with Liam can go.”
My words instantly piqued everyone else’s interest. Sure enough, Chloe had kept this a secret from them. Now that everyone knew, they were all buzzing. In the end, everyone in the dorm agreed to go – except for me.
Lucy even came over to try and convince me. “Everyone else is going, Sarah. Why don’t you just come along? We’re in college now, it’s time to experience some of that college life!”
Lucy’s words made me hesitate. It had been almost a month since I’d come back, and I felt my feelings for Liam had settled, like still water. Maybe a calm approach would help me demythologize him.
Besides, this time, without the ring’s magical aura, and with my roommates all being gorgeous, no one would bother me. I could just go for a free meal.
Once I agreed, that day I didn’t even bother with makeup. I threw on a hoodie and jeans, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and headed out looking fresh and simple.
Liam and his friends had already arrived. It was his buddies who came to pick us up. Just as I’d hoped, I went unnoticed. No one tried to strike up a conversation. I just quietly slipped into the restaurant.
Liam was seated in a corner. His clothes were simple, but his handsome face elevated even the most casual attire, making it look like haute couture. He was undeniably good-looking, came from a wealthy family, and there wasn’t a single girl who saw him whose heart wouldn’t quicken.
Once I settled into my seat, I heard Chloe’s excited whisper. “Sarah, is Liam looking at us?”
I glanced up. My eyes met Liam’s. He was frowning, his gaze sharp and complex, as if trying to bore right through me. My stomach fluttered with an unfamiliar unease. “Yeah,” I mumbled, nodding. “He’s looking at you.”
I wasn’t much of a talker to begin with, and once the food arrived, I buried myself in my plate, tuning out all the chatter, utterly detached from the table’s social dance.
That was until Lucy nudged me, an awkward flush creeping up her neck. “Sarah…”
I looked up. Everyone at the table was staring at me. Liam’s face was dark, a rigid sneer twisting his lips.
“Sarah,” Lucy whispered, “Liam just tried to say hello…”
Liam chuckled, a hint of mockery glinting in his eyes. “Chloe, is your friend starving? How long has it been since she ate?”
A hush fell over the table. Jake Hayes, one of Liam’s friends, was the first to react, quickly jumping in to ease the tension. “What are you talking about, Liam? You just worried there wasn’t enough food, right? Waiter, let’s get a few more dishes.”
Liam didn’t respond. I wiped my mouth, then stood up, offering a bland smile to everyone. “My apologies. I skipped lunch and was ravenous. I’ll take a penalty drink. You all just enjoy yourselves, don’t mind me.”
I grabbed a soda and chugged it. But Liam’s scowl only deepened. He pressed on, his voice dripping with condescension. “Drinking soda to toast us? That’s not much commitment.”
I met Liam’s gaze, my own eyes flat and unreadable. “I’m allergic to alcohol.”
Lucy awkwardly tugged at my arm, explaining to Liam, “Sarah really is allergic. One sip and she’s out.”
After I sat back down, Liam remained stone-faced, not uttering another word throughout the rest of the meal.
I didn’t care what his problem was. After dinner, when they started talking about heading to karaoke, I announced my departure.
Chloe offered a hesitant apology. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I don’t know what got into Liam tonight. Maybe he’s just in a bad mood.”
I waved it off, saying it was fine. As I walked out, I saw Jake and Liam standing together.
“What’s your deal, man?” Jake was saying. “Did you drink too much? Why were you giving that girl such a hard time?”
Another friend chimed in, “Yeah, even if she isn’t super pretty, you could’ve just ignored her. You made the whole atmosphere super awkward.”
I happened to be walking by at that moment. The group froze, wide-eyed. Jake was the first to recover. “Sarah, you coming to karaoke with us?”
I offered him a small smile. “No thanks, you guys have fun. I’m heading back.”
Jake started walking toward me. “I can walk you back.”
Before I could reply, Liam’s cold voice cut through the air. “Let her walk herself.”
3
I looked at Liam, a spark of anger igniting within me. “Jake, you can walk me.”
Jake blinked, surprised, then followed me. “I’ll see Sarah off. You guys go ahead.”
Once we were outside, Jake’s curiosity got the better of him. “Did you two know each other before?”
“No,” I replied, shaking my head.
I flagged down a taxi, then turned to Jake. “What I said back there was just to be spiteful. You should go back. I don’t need you to walk me.”
I got into the cab, but Jake was insistent. “It’s late for a girl to be riding alone. I don’t feel good about it.”
I let out a soft laugh. “You’re quite the gentleman.”
I didn’t talk much to Jake during the ride. When we reached campus, he asked for my number.
I didn’t give it to him. Instead, I put on my best ‘too cool for school’ act. “I’m not really looking to date, so… apologies.”
Jake’s face flushed. “I wasn’t…”
“See ya.” I cut him off, making a swift exit.
I knew Jake couldn’t possibly be interested in me. He was just as handsome as Liam, how could he possibly be attracted to someone as ordinary as me? I was just trying to find an excuse to keep all of them at a distance.
But from that day on, Jake seemed to have developed an interest in me. He started contacting me frequently.
He got my number from Chloe, then started waiting for me after class. Today was no different. He held a coffee cup, asking me out for a meal just outside the classroom.
“Got some free time later? Wanna grab a bite?”
Chloe, walking out with me, saw Jake approaching me and looked genuinely surprised. “You’re asking Sarah out?”
Jake nodded.
I, too, was genuinely curious as to why Jake had taken an interest in me.
I agreed to have dinner with him. On the way, I asked him, “Do you think I’m pretty? Am I your dream girl?”
My blunt questions left Jake speechless.
Once I confirmed he wasn’t under any strange spell, I pressed on. “Probably not, right? I’m pretty plain. So why are you asking me out?”
Jake considered it. “I think your personality is… interesting.”
I offered a faint smile. “Is that so? I’m not entirely convinced.”
We continued our conversation, our closeness seemingly growing. Just then, I saw Liam.
He stood in the distance, his eyes cold, locked on us.
I met his stare, then casually reached out and took Jake’s hand.
Jake froze. At the same instant, Liam stormed over, his anger barely contained. He grabbed my arm, yanking me toward him. “Jake, she’s not who you think she is! Wake up!”
Liam’s words sent a shiver down my spine.
Jake looked utterly bewildered. “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with Sarah? Let her go, you’re hurting her!”
Jake tried to pull me back, but Liam already had a firm grip on me and started dragging me away.
My mind was a tangled mess. I tried to pull free, but his grip was unyielding.
He didn’t release me until we reached a secluded spot. Liam’s eyes, dark and stormy, glared at me. “What, Sarah? Couldn’t reel me in, so you switched targets? Are you always this fickle, always so manipulative?”
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “392705”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
1
After my divorce from Clara Reynolds, I found myself with three new card buddies. One was Professor Arthur Harrison, a true titan of legal academia. Another, General Eleanor “Ellie” Thorne, a legendary figure in the military. And the third, Victor Sterling, a renowned investment guru, known throughout the industry. Every day, we’d gather around a table, playing cards with relish.
Then one afternoon, my “precious daughter” suddenly showed up at my doorstep. I didn’t even recognize her. “Young lady,” I said, a little gruffly, “this is where us old timers play cards. You don’t really belong here.”
She eyed my sprawling penthouse with disdain, refusing to even step inside. “Dad,” she announced, her voice flat, “I’m getting married tomorrow. I came to pick you up for the wedding.”
I turned to my three card buddies. “Whose daughter is this? Getting married, she should be home preparing!”
Professor Harrison, busy with his hand, didn’t even look up. “My grandson’s old enough to drive,” he mumbled, “she’s definitely not mine.”
To my surprise, the girl bristled, puffing out her cheeks. “I’m Maya Reynolds, your daughter!”
“Young lady, you must have the wrong house,” I countered, “My daughter’s name is Lily Carter.”
“Mom changed my name.”
I scrutinized her for a long moment. This vibrant, beautiful girl, with that strangely cold expression, slowly merged with the memory of that soft, sweet little kid I’d adored – indeed, the “nuisance” I’d doted on for seven years. At the time, I was caught up in the thrill of a winning hand. In my good mood, I casually replied, “Marriage? That’s great. You’ve grown into a young woman, it’s time you settled down!”
“Come on, Charlie, hurry up! Second game’s about to start! We’re waiting on you!” my friends urged.
“Coming, coming,” I chuckled, already grabbing a card. “Here, daughter, here’s an early wedding gift.” I tossed a card to Maya Reynolds, but she angrily swatted it aside.
“All you ever do is play cards!” she snapped, her voice tight with indignation. “Your own daughter’s getting married, and I have to come begging you to come? Couldn’t you have prepared anything ahead of time?”
My own temper flared. “Are we close? Didn’t you cry and scream that you wanted David Reynolds to be your dad? What are you doing coming to me now?”
From the moment she was born, Clara Reynolds had washed her hands of parental duties, claiming she needed to recover. Even with a nanny at home, I worried Maya would feel neglected. I put my thriving career on hold to be fully present: I personally gave her first haircut, brushed her teeth, bathed her, gave her massages every single day… Before kindergarten, she was still my little daddy’s girl, sharing all her secrets with me.
But then David Reynolds came back, and everything changed. Once, I saw them – mother, daughter, and David – at a theme park, looking like a picture-perfect family. I wanted to storm over and punch David right there, but my young daughter stopped me. Her tiny, pink fists pounded against my leg. “Go away! All you ever do is stay home, doing nothing! I don’t want you as a dad, I want Uncle David to be my dad!”
The punches stung my leg, but the real pain was in my heart. So this is how ruthless human nature is. Even children know how to pick who gives them more. Between the father who gave her love and the mother who gave her wealth, she had unhesitatingly chosen the latter. In that moment, I felt there was no longer any reason to remain in that house. So, we separated, then divorced.
Over a decade later, that little ball of fluff stood before me again. She’d never been reprimanded like that. Her face flushed scarlet. “Dad, that’s ancient history! Uncle David doesn’t even care that you hit him! Why are you still holding a grudge? I’m getting married! If you don’t come, where will the Reynolds family put its face?”
I rolled my eyes. What did the Reynolds family’s reputation have to do with me, Charlie Carter? Besides, knowing David Reynolds, he’d probably prefer I never showed up. Why would he send his daughter to invite me?
“Anyway, I told you! You have to be there tomorrow!” Maya threw the words over her shoulder and walked away, confident that I would still chase after her, doting and fussing, like when she was a child. But then I reconsidered and agreed. I’d almost forgotten those grievances. Since they were coming to me, it was time to reclaim what was mine.
2
The wedding day was Valentine’s Day. I played cards with my old buddies, then headed to the reception. By the time I arrived, the dinner had already begun. I heard the groom was from out of state, the wedding was at the Reynolds’ grand estate, and they’d even hired a celebrity chef. The moment I entered, a security guard stopped me, demanding an invitation. “I didn’t receive one. I’m the bride’s father. Go ask her if she wants me here. If not, I’ll leave.”
Just as I turned to go, David Reynolds called out, “Charlie, you made it! Family doesn’t need an invitation. Next time, I’ll kick you out!” He seemed to be scolding the guard, but his lips were practically touching his ears with triumph. I ignored him – in a few days, that smile would vanish.
The Reynolds’ grand estate, now ablaze with lights and opulent decor, was unrecognizable from my memories. I walked straight to the head table and sat down. Maya quickly rushed over. “Dad, what are you doing in the main seat? That’s Uncle David’s…” Her words were cut short by a sharp look from Clara. Seeing this, I knew there was a catch: the mother and daughter, biting their tongues, were clearly plotting something against me.
David Reynolds, finding his seat taken, awkwardly introduced me to the groom’s parents. “This is Maya’s biological father. We specifically invited him today to witness the children’s happy moment. There was a little misunderstanding back then. Charlie left for over ten years. Now that he’s here today, he should stay a few extra days. Maya misses you too; don’t be mad at her anymore.”
His words were designed to nail me to a pillar of shame, proclaiming to the world that I, a grown man, had abandoned my wife and daughter for over a decade out of spite. “Maya, you and your husband should raise a toast to your father.” How ironic. My own daughter had to be told by someone else to toast me. But I no longer cared.
“You must be the groom’s father,” I said, looking at him. “It’s a privilege to become family. A truly auspicious fate.” I smirked. The groom’s father was a new money tycoon from Riverton City, Mr. Wallace. He’d tried to join our card club a while back, even offering a briefcase full of cash, but we’d always rejected him. He hadn’t met me in person. He exchanged a few polite words, then left. Ignoring the stares of the other guests, I finished my meal and retired to my room. Meanwhile, Maya, fearing her “Uncle David” might be upset about losing the head seat, fussed over him, playing the role of the devoted daughter.
3
During the banquet, I felt my phone buzzing constantly. Once in the room, I opened it to find dozens of unread messages in our card club group.
Leading the charge was Professor Harrison: “So, Charlie, my man, did you work your magic at the party?”
“There are a lot of them. Want us to come give you some moral support?” That was General Thorne.
“Your ‘dear daughter’ seems like an ungrateful wretch. Just forget about her. We’ve got more money than we can spend in a lifetime; wouldn’t it be better to adopt some grateful kids?” That was Victor Sterling, never missing a chance to flaunt his wealth.
Professor Harrison, General Thorne, Victor Sterling, and I formed the card club. Professor Harrison, the “Ace,” came from a scholarly family, dedicating himself entirely to law. Years of hard work paid off; he became famous young and has held a prestigious position as a legal luminary for decades. General Thorne, the “Queen,” was a military brat who followed in her father’s footsteps. Fearless of bloodshed or sacrifice, she embodies the glory of a soldier with her unyielding iron will. Victor Sterling, the “King,” was born into immense wealth. His father’s only wish for him was to be a carefree socialite, as long as he never started a business. But a Midas touch seemed to possess Victor, and every investment he made turned to gold. These past few years, he suddenly retired from the game. In his words, he was tired of being on the richest list and it was time to make way for younger generations.
Right after I left the Reynolds family, I felt utterly adrift, locking myself in the house day after day. Then, by chance, I discovered poker, and before I knew it, I’d made these three incredible friends. After more than a decade of friendship, they knew all about my messy past with the Reynolds family.
David Reynolds was Clara’s adoptive brother. When Clara was chasing me, he’d follow us everywhere, claiming he was scrutinizing me for Clara’s sake. In the throes of new love, I’d mocked their “deep sibling bond.” Who knew that bond was deep enough to extend to the same bed? Once I discovered their affair, Clara went full scorched earth, loudly declaring to everyone that David Reynolds was her true love. Back then, she hadn’t dared to face her true feelings, afraid that rumors would ruin David’s future. After marrying me, she realized she couldn’t control her passion, couldn’t escape her feelings, and that we had nothing in common anymore.
It sickened me. Why didn’t she realize this earlier? The child was six or seven years old before she declared she couldn’t forget her true love. The truth was simply that years ago, my parents were still alive, and the Carter and Reynolds families were equally powerful. The Reynolds family, fearing a broken partnership, even sent David abroad to cut off Clara’s hopes. Now, Clara had risen by stepping on me, with no one to restrain her. And she spoke with such self-righteousness. Cheaters truly have a twisted way of thinking.
4
Old memories haunted my dreams last night, and I woke up in a foul mood. Especially when I saw a crowd gathered in the middle of the Reynolds Estate, I just wanted to stir up some trouble for that family. In the living room, a large group of people watched as Maya and her new husband knelt before David Reynolds.
“Dad, thank you for raising me these past ten-plus years. Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”
I rolled my eyes. As if this ingrate just popped out of a rock. Several cameras were set up, broadcasting live. Professor Harrison sent me a link.
“Your daughter’s live-streaming her gratitude to her step-dad. Truly moving to hear, heartbreaking to witness.”
“Want me to report them and shut it down? That David guy is still just her secret lover, isn’t he?”
“Why use a sledgehammer to crack a nut? Just watch, the ‘other woman’ drama is about to go live.”
Meanwhile, David Reynolds was wiping away tears, looking like a proud father marrying off his own daughter, as he handed Maya and her husband a gift envelope. Seeing me, he came over, trying to pull me in.
“Charlie, you’re here! Come, sit. Let Maya and her husband kneel to you too.”
“Dad, why did you bring him?” Maya grumbled, clearly annoyed.
“Charlie, the kids are starting their own family. The young couple needs to make a start. Maya and her husband want to build a major development in Riverton City. There’s a piece of land I remember that’s yours. If you transfer that land to the kids as startup capital for Maya’s wedding, they’ll surely be grateful.” He continued, “Wouldn’t that mend the father-daughter relationship?”
His speech was so heartfelt, as if he genuinely cared about our father-daughter bond. If he weren’t eyeing my land, I’d almost applaud him. “That land already has another purpose.”
Hearing that the land was unavailable, Maya immediately interrupted me. “The Carter family is in decline. All he does is play cards all day; he probably gambled that land away ages ago. Dad, why bother with this broke old man?”
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “392721”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
Eleanor Thorne’s husband of three years, Julian, had a rabid admirer. The girl, Scarlett Quinn, was unremarkable in every way, not particularly attractive, but she pulled out all the stops to force Julian into a divorce, committing outrageous acts. She knelt in the pouring rain on the street for three days and nights just for a glimpse of him; she crashed their wedding in a bridal gown, attempting to abduct the groom; she spiked his drink, shedding her clothes and brazenly attempting to force intimacy… Her insanity had rocked all of Sterling City. Many gossips even placed bets on how long it would take Julian to finally be swayed.
Yet Eleanor had never truly worried about her. She was beautiful, wealthy, and successful. She and Julian had been childhood sweethearts for over a decade, having navigated the toughest times together. Most importantly, Julian’s own father had succumbed to temptation and had an affair, ultimately driving Julian’s mother to her death. Julian, therefore, utterly despised those who lacked all decency.
Until their wedding anniversary. Eleanor went to Julian’s office to surprise him. Instead, she found Scarlett Quinn, utterly naked, inside. Scarlett’s eyes narrowed, as she lay brazenly on the executive chair, her fingers toying with a wet fountain pen. A soft, suggestive moan escaped her lips: “Julian, gently…”
Eleanor felt as if she’d been struck by lightning.
Just then, Julian’s voice suddenly sounded from behind her. “Eleanor, why aren’t you coming into the office? I just finished a meeting.”
Julian walked over and put an arm around her. Catching sight of the scene in his office, his eyes widened, then narrowed, and he roared, “Scarlett Quinn! What are you doing!?”
Caught red-handed, Scarlett showed not a shred of shame. Instead, her movements grew even more brazen. The bodyguards, alerted by the commotion, rushed forward, about to burst in. But Julian moved faster, slamming the door shut, cutting off everyone’s view. His gaze swept the room, finally landing on Eleanor. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke, his voice strained and awkward.
“Eleanor, could you… could you go in first and help her get dressed? She is a woman, after all. We should consider her reputation…”
At his words, Eleanor froze for a second, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. This wasn’t the first time Scarlett had pulled a stunt like this. A year ago, when Julian was on a business trip abroad, Scarlett had secretly sneaked into his hotel room, stripped, and climbed into his bed. Startled awake, Julian hadn’t bothered about her lack of clothes. He’d simply called security and had her thrown into the hallway. That incident had even caused quite a stir online. But somehow, somewhere along the line, his attitude towards Scarlett seemed to have shifted…
The click of the door opening snapped Eleanor from her thoughts. Scarlett was now dressed, her eyes blazing with an obsessive adoration as she stared at Julian’s face.
“Julian, I love you. That fountain pen was a gift from me. Let it stay by your side every day, in my place…”
As her words hung in the air, the earlier image flashed through Eleanor’s mind. A wave of nausea surged in her throat. She clapped a hand over her mouth and rushed into the washroom, emptying her stomach until she felt lightheaded.
A few minutes later, Eleanor emerged, her face pale, her steps unsteady. She reached the office door, about to speak. But then she saw a sight that chilled her to the bone—
Julian picked up the fountain pen, carefully wrapped it in a handkerchief, and gently placed it into his pocket.
Eleanor stood frozen, as if plunged into an icy abyss. She knew better than anyone how much Julian had once detested Scarlett. He wouldn’t just discard the gifts Scarlett painstakingly prepared; he would even toss clothes she had touched into a fire, his face contorted in disgust. Yet now, he kept the pen Scarlett had “used”…
Seeing Julian about to turn around, Eleanor didn’t dare to think twice. She instinctively spun around and fled, rushing downstairs to hail a taxi home.
Once inside, she went straight to her study, retrieving a divorce agreement from the safe. Her fingertips lightly traced Julian’s signature, and memories from the past resurfaced, one by one.
Her father-in-law’s affair had been a massive blow to Julian back then. He couldn’t accept that his father, whom he had idolized since childhood, had secretly kept a mistress, a woman even younger than Julian himself. And he had even allowed her to torment his mother to death. Julian had spent his days holed up at home, drinking heavily, the golden boy utterly ruined, fallen from grace. It was Eleanor who had stayed by his side, steadfastly, pulling him out of the darkness, helping him secure control of Vance Corp. That’s why, when they registered their marriage, he personally drafted this agreement. Should their marriage ever dissolve, all his personal assets and half of Vance Corp.’s shares would be hers.
Julian had signed it, then personally handed it to her. “My love, if I ever betray you, then sign this divorce agreement. Don’t give me the chance to hurt you!”
He had so vehemently despised his unfaithful father back then, yet in the end, he had trodden that very same path himself. Eleanor had witnessed firsthand how Julian’s beautiful, gentle mother had been tormented by a failed marriage, turning into a hysterical, broken woman. Eleanor refused to allow herself to suffer such a fate.
After signing her name, Eleanor picked up her phone, retrieved a contact from her blocked list, and composed a text message.
[The shares are yours, but the price is double. I want half a billion dollars.]
A voice call came through almost instantly. “Miss Thorne, have you finally come to your senses? I’ll transfer the money in a month. I thought your bond was unbreakable, but it seems it was nothing special after all. Why don’t you divorce him and come to me?”
Eleanor ignored his taunts, her voice calm. “You have two weeks. After that, the offer is off the table.” With that, she hung up. Eleanor knew that given Julian’s nature, he would never easily agree to a divorce and let her go. So, she needed someone to rein him in, and his fierce rival, Leo Sterling, was the perfect candidate.
Footsteps in the living room pulled her back to the present. “Eleanor, why didn’t you call me when you came home? The front desk said you looked upset when you left. Is something wrong?”
Seeing no obvious distress in her expression, Julian visibly relaxed. He presented a gift box to her like a prized treasure. “An anniversary gift. See if you like it?”
Eleanor’s expression faltered slightly. Half a month ago, she had been traveling abroad with friends when she saw this bracelet at an auction. But the price had exceeded her budget, so she had reluctantly given up on it. She never imagined Julian would buy it for her…
“On our wedding day, I told you I would love and protect you for life. Anything you desire, I will fight with all my might to get for you.” His eyes were earnest, his voice solemn.
Yet Eleanor merely curved her lips into a faint, cynical smile. What she truly desired was a loyal partner, and Julian was not that. She raised her hand, offering him the box containing the signed divorce agreement. “I’ve prepared a gift for you too. But you have to wait seven days to open it.”
A flicker of confusion crossed Julian’s eyes, but he obediently nodded. “Alright. I’ve booked your favorite restaurant. After dinner, we can go for a stroll.” With that, he gave Eleanor no chance to refuse, pulling her into the car.
All the way, he chatted about amusing things, trying to lift her spirits. But Eleanor remained silent. Ten minutes later, Julian’s phone suddenly rang. Seeing “Scarlett Quinn” flash on the screen, Eleanor’s body stiffened imperceptibly. Hadn’t Julian blocked her number ages ago?
While she was still bewildered, Julian had already answered the phone, letting out an impatient roar. “Are you ever going to stop!? I told you, stop bothering me! Can’t you understand plain English?”
Scarlett’s trembling voice came from the other end. “Julian, someone’s following me. I’m scared. Can you come pick me up…?”
Julian paused, but his tone remained cold. “You should call the police. Telling me is useless.” With that, he ruthlessly hung up.
The shrill ringing echoed again and again in the silent car. Eleanor finally broke the silence, her voice icy. “I don’t feel like dinner anymore. You should go find Scarlett.”
Before she finished, Julian cut her off. “Don’t mind her. With her kind of reputation, who would even bother following her? And even if someone was, it serves her right for being so shameless…” Despite his words, Julian’s tightly furrowed brow and the surging speed of the car betrayed his inner unease. Eleanor was about to warn him that he was speeding.
Then, a black sedan suddenly darted out from the left intersection. Her pupils instantly constricted.
CRASH!
A deafening roar, and the world spun violently. In a daze, Eleanor felt someone pulling her from the wreckage. Julian’s voice was frantic. “Eleanor, how are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere?”
The searing pain in Eleanor’s chest made it almost impossible to breathe. “It… hurts…” Her faint voice was swallowed by the incessant ringing of Julian’s phone. This time, Scarlett’s voice was thick with desperate sobs. “Julian, I’m so scared. Please, please help me.” Before Julian could speak, a few more screams echoed from the other end, then the call disconnected.
His face instantly changed. “Eleanor, I’ve checked. You have no external injuries. The ambulance will be here soon. Wait here… I’ll be right back after I deal with this!” With that, he gently laid Eleanor on the roadside and rushed away. The intense pain blurred Eleanor’s consciousness. She couldn’t speak, could only watch helplessly as Julian got into a passing taxi. Then, her vision swam with black spots, and she completely lost consciousness.
Eleanor opened her eyes again two days later. The nurse, changing her bandages, stopped her from sitting up. “Don’t move. You have a fractured rib that nearly punctured an organ, which could have caused a major hemorrhage. You need to rest properly in the hospital for a few days.” With that, she called Julian, who was waiting anxiously outside the room.
His eyes were bloodshot, his face etched with anguish. “Eleanor, does it hurt? I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault for causing your injuries. You don’t know how worried and scared I was when the doctor said your condition was critical. Thankfully, you’re alright in the end, or I wouldn’t be able to live either…”
Eleanor’s voice was hoarse as she interrupted him. “How is Scarlett?”
At her question, Julian’s expression stiffened for a second. “She’s fine. The whole ‘being followed’ thing was fake. I was just worried about her, being a young girl. What if something really did happen…? Eleanor, don’t worry, I promise I won’t pay any attention to her ever again!”
Eleanor looked at the fresh bite marks on his neck, her heart feeling as if it were being sliced by a thousand phantom blades, each breath carrying a sting. She forced herself to pull her hand away. “I’m tired.”
After that day, Julian stayed glued to her side, never leaving. He even avoided sleeping at night, terrified she might accidentally jostle her wound. In just a few days, he had lost a significant amount of weight, looking even more haggard than a patient. Yet, Eleanor felt nothing.
One afternoon, she was taking a nap when a shrill shriek suddenly echoed from outside the room. Scarlett Quinn stood in the center of the crowd, a deep gash marring her right wrist, her left hand still tightly clutching a dagger. Her voice was piercing. “Julian Vance, you finally came to see me! For three whole days, no matter if I called or texted, you ignored me! What did I do wrong? Why are you doing this to me?!”
Blood slowly pooled at her feet. Julian’s face was ashen. “I’ve made it clear to you, Scarlett. I will never love you. Don’t ever bother me again!” With that, he turned to leave, but Scarlett’s shriek stopped him. “Julian! You can’t leave! Or I’ll die right here!”
Before anyone could react, she savagely sliced her wrist several more times. Blood gushed forth, instantly staining half of her body crimson. Julian rushed forward, his face etched with terror, covering her wound with his hands.
“Scarlett Quinn! Are you trying to die?!”
Scarlett’s entire face was utterly drained of color. But she seemed to feel no pain, her eyes fixed on him in a desperate, unwavering stare. “As long as I can be with you, even throwing my life away is worth it.”
Julian looked at her, his expression complex. His voice was strained. “I think you’ve truly gone mad…” Before he finished, he scooped up Scarlett’s limp body and strode quickly towards the operating room. Eleanor watched his receding back in silence.
That night, Julian didn’t return. He only arranged for a nurse aide. In the hallway, a nurse whispered to a colleague after completing her rounds. “Did you hear? That crazy girl, the one named Quinn, lost so much blood today. She almost didn’t make it off the operating table. Mr. Vance had to spend a fortune to get blood transferred just to save her!”
“Didn’t they say Mr. Vance hated her? Why would he go to such lengths to save her?”
“Hate her? If you ask me, it’s all an act for his wife. Who would refuse a woman throwing herself at them?”
Eleanor curved her lips in a self-deprecating smile. Yes, who would refuse a woman throwing herself at them? She was the only fool who truly believed Julian wouldn’t be swayed by Scarlett… Thankfully, she had finally seen the light.
On the day she was discharged, Eleanor completed her paperwork herself. As she stepped out of the hospital, about to hail a taxi, she saw Julian approaching. “Why didn’t you wait for me? Why did you come out on your own?”
As he spoke, he smoothly took off his jacket, intending to drape it over Eleanor’s shoulders, but she sidestepped him. His hands froze mid-air, a flicker of panic in his eyes.
“Eleanor, are you mad at me? I’m so sorry. The company has been incredibly busy these past few days, I just couldn’t find the time. But I asked the nurse aide about your condition every day. Please, forgive me, just this once?” By the end, his eyes were visibly red-rimmed, his voice tinged with a tremor.
Noticing passersby casting curious glances, Eleanor, not wanting to be an object of public scrutiny, mumbled a vague assent and got into the car first.
On the road, Julian kept trying to engage her in conversation. But Eleanor had no desire to play along, so she simply closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. After what felt like an eternity, the car slowly pulled to a stop. She opened her eyes, finding they were outside a restaurant.
“Eleanor, we missed our anniversary celebration last time. I’m making it up to you today.” Julian walked around and opened the car door for her.
The restaurant had been meticulously decorated, with flowers adorning every visible surface. The central dining table was laden with all of Eleanor’s favorite dishes. They sat opposite each other. Julian, just as he used to, served her food, spooned soup into her bowl, peeled shrimp, and deshelled crab. The atmosphere was so harmonious it was as if no rift had ever existed between them.
Until the waiter brought over a cake. Eleanor’s fingers paused. She was about to say something, but Julian stood up, cut a slice, and placed it in front of her.
“The other day, you mentioned wanting mango cake. I made this myself. Try it, tell me if it’s good?” Meeting his expectant gaze, she sighed wearily. “Julian, I didn’t say I wanted mango cake. Besides, I’m allergic to mango.”
Her words coincided with the special notification tone from Julian’s phone. He picked up his phone. With just one glance, his face changed. “Eleanor, something’s come up at the company. I need to go now. Can you take a taxi home after you finish eating?”
Eleanor said nothing, merely nodding silently. Watching him walk out of the restaurant, she stood up and hailed a taxi by the roadside. “Please follow that car ahead.”
The car finally stopped outside a tattoo parlor. Eleanor stepped out, and as she reached the second floor, she heard a furious roar. “Why aren’t you staying in the hospital? What are you doing causing trouble here?!”
Julian’s face was etched with undisguised fury, but also a worry he couldn’t hide. Yet Scarlett showed no fear. In fact, her lips curved into a smile at his appearance. “It’s my birthday today, so I got myself a present.” With that, she turned her back to him, slowly raising her hands and taking off her top.
Revealing a large, fresh tattoo on her back. Perhaps because it was newly done, her skin was still red and weeping slightly. But it was unmistakably Julian’s portrait! Julian raised his hand, lightly tracing the tattoo, his voice hoarse. “I told you, I only love Eleanor in this life. Why must you…?” He clenched the hand hanging by his side, his deep eyes churning with dark, unreadable emotions.
Scarlett, naked from the waist up, walked towards him, step by deliberate step. “From the moment you saved me, the meaning of my life has been to love you. I’ve loved you for eight whole years. You’ve consumed my entire existence. If I don’t have you, I’d rather just die!” As her words fell, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed his lips.
That fleeting kiss seemed like a key, unlocking the shackles deep within Julian’s heart. He could no longer control the surging emotions and clamped a hand on the back of Scarlett’s head, deepening the kiss.
Eleanor’s nails dug deep into her palms. Despite being prepared, seeing this scene firsthand felt like a gaping wound tearing through her heart. The pain made her eyes sting with tears. Inside the room, the sounds of their lips meeting grew bolder, unmistakably intimate. Eleanor wiped away her tears, turned, and strode away.
Back home, she meticulously packed all the gifts and jewelry Julian had given her over the years and listed them online. Perhaps because the prices were surprisingly low, orders came in quickly.
The next morning, Eleanor was still asleep when her bedroom door suddenly swung open.
“Eleanor, why did you sell our wedding rings?!”
Julian was half-kneeling by the bed, his face etched with panic. “We promised we’d never be apart. Are you angry? What did I do wrong? Tell me, I’ll fix everything, won’t I?”
Looking at the distinct bite marks beneath his collar, Eleanor longed to ask him, Don’t you know what you did wrong? But in the end, she asked nothing. She merely uttered a casual lie. “Yesterday, while tidying, I sold some jewelry I didn’t like. The wedding rings must have gotten mixed in by accident.”
Despite the glaring flaws in her explanation, Julian believed her. “Eleanor, don’t do something like that again. You don’t know how scared I was. We can never be apart…”
Was he only scared because she sold the wedding rings? What would his reaction be if he knew they were already divorced? Eleanor lowered her head, hiding the mockery in her eyes.
Perhaps sensing her low spirits, Julian canceled all his work commitments, dedicating himself entirely to staying home with her. He personally cooked for her, made her soups; he sent her a bouquet of fresh flowers every day; he purchased countless pieces of jewelry; he acquired a new lavish estate for her; he even arranged a city-wide fireworks display that captivated everyone… The top trending post every day was titled, “Guess what surprise Mr. Vance prepared for his wife today?”
Everyone envied their deep affection. But only Eleanor knew that for everything Julian prepared, Scarlett also received a duplicate. He had, in the end, become the very person he once despised…
Late the night before her departure, Eleanor got up for a drink of water and heard Julian on the balcony talking on the phone. “Mr. Vance, Miss Quinn swallowed an entire bottle of pills. She’s extremely agitated and refusing to cooperate with our emergency treatment. Please, try to talk her into it!”
Julian irritably pinched the bridge of his nose. “Put her on the phone.” The next instant, a hysterical scream tore from the other end. “Julian Vance! I want you to divorce Eleanor right now, or I swear I won’t accept treatment even if I die!” Her madness and stubbornness could be felt through the phone. But this time, Julian didn’t compromise. His voice was cold. “Scarlett Quinn, I’ve told you, I will not divorce Eleanor. Even if you threaten to die, I won’t give in. That’s my red line.” The last sentence carried an undeniable firmness.
A cynical smile touched Eleanor’s lips. He had already slept with Scarlett, yet he was still putting on an act of profound devotion, clinging to this broken marriage. A long silence followed on the other end of the line, then a soft sob.
“Then… then will you come see me? Julian, stomach pumps are so awful. I just… I just want to see you…”
After a long pause, Julian sighed wearily. “Alright. Be a good girl and wait for me at the hospital.” He hung up the phone, pulled a sticky note from the table, and scribbled a few lines.
[Eleanor, urgent company business requires me to travel for two days. Be a good girl and eat your meals. I’ll be back to take you to the beach to clear your head.]
Then he grabbed his jacket and strode away without a moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut that Eleanor emerged from the bedroom and began packing her suitcase.
After an unknown period, muffled, suggestive sounds drifted from the media room. She frowned and walked over, pushing open the door. Her body stiffened as she saw what was playing on the large screen—
Scarlett, scantily clad, was draped over Julian, her face flushed. “Julian, I miss you so much. Please, take me…” Her hand slowly reached towards him. Julian’s breath hitched, his throat working, his eyes darkening with desire. “You asked for this,” he muttered, “so no matter how intense it gets, you’ll endure it.” The next moment, he reversed their positions, pulling her beneath him. Low, guttural breaths mingled with Scarlett’s soft moans. His hands gripped her waist tightly, pressing kisses along her neck…
Eleanor’s stomach churned. She could no longer control herself and rushed to the bathroom, emptying her stomach in a fit of revulsion.
She spent the night in a numb stupor in the living room. As dawn broke, her phone received a text message. Eleanor saw the half a billion dollars transferred into her account, and the pent-up frustration in her heart immediately dissipated. She called a courier to deliver the signed stock transfer agreement to Leo Sterling’s company. Then, she picked up her suitcase and walked out.
But she never expected that as she pushed open the door, she would see a familiar figure.
Scarlett Quinn was still wearing her hospital gown, her face ghostly pale, as if she might faint at any second. Recalling the scene in the video, Eleanor felt a wave of disgust. She turned away, her face cold, intending to leave. But Scarlett suddenly reached out and blocked her path. Her voice was hoarse. “Eleanor Thorne, I’m the one who truly loves Julian, so why did he marry you? Even when I swallowed an entire bottle of pills, almost dying, he still wouldn’t agree to divorce you! Why?!” As she spoke, Scarlett’s eyes turned bloodshot, glaring at her with venomous hatred.
An inexplicable chill rose in Eleanor’s heart. She was about to say that they were already divorced, but before she could open her mouth, Scarlett clamped a towel over her mouth and nose. As consciousness faded, she heard a cold sneer.
“Since he doesn’t want a divorce, then it can only be… widowhood.”
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “392742”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
When my girlfriend, Maya, received a call mentioning her ex-boyfriend Ethan’s grandfather and father had both passed away, she worried about Ethan’s mental state and decided to go care for him.
As for her own father, Mr. Davis, still recovering in the hospital, she told me it was my chance to impress him, to win his approval as soon as possible.
Hearing her devotion to her ex-boyfriend, I found myself envying her deep affection. And so, I began the process of becoming her ex-boyfriend.
01
I was driving Maya to visit her father when her phone rang, and she answered Ethan’s call.
She wore headphones, so I couldn’t make out what Ethan was saying. But the way Maya’s hand instinctively reached to soothe an unseen distress, combined with the quick, guilt-edged flick of her eyes my way, spoke volumes. Finally, she took a deep breath, steeling herself, and declared softly, “Don’t be sad, I’m on my way to you now.”
“It’s okay, he’ll understand.”
After hanging up, she asked me to pull over. “Ethan’s in a bad place emotionally,” she explained softly. “I need to go comfort him.”
My voice was flat. “Think this through.”
A flicker of impatience crossed her face. “Ethan just lost his grandfather and father. Try to be more understanding.”
I reminded her again. “Are you sure you want to leave me here, right now?”
Her impatience sharpened. “Be sensible, get out.”
I simply smiled. “Fine.”
Her brow smoothed, and she adjusted her posture, perhaps intending to offer a reassuring word, but I stepped out of the car without another glance.
Her hand, suspended in mid-air, slowly withdrew as she sighed. “It’ll be up to you to visit Dad at the hospital. Make a good impression, try to get his approval soon.”
With that, she drove away.
I called a rideshare and went straight back to Maya’s apartment, packing all my belongings.
I had my own small apartment, only staying at hers occasionally, so my things were few. I finished packing quickly.
Mid-move, I received a call from the hospital. They said Mr. Davis’s prepaid fees had run out and I needed to settle the bill.
Mr. Davis was Maya’s father, a regular at the hospital. Since I had once paid a bill for him, it had somehow become my ongoing responsibility.
Maya was too proud not to repay me, but she always deducted a small amount and delayed the transfer for an annoyingly long time.
I directly gave them Maya’s number, stating that I was no longer associated with them and they should call her for payment.
After some thought, to be fully responsible, I still tried to call Maya to inform her. But she didn’t pick up. After multiple attempts, she blocked my number.
To ensure the message got through, I used another number to text her about the hospital bill and then informed her I was breaking up with her.
From that point on, whatever happened was no longer my concern.
02
The next morning, I arrived at the company early to resign.
Years ago, she had asked me to build this business with her, yet she intended for me to work as her assistant, without a title or proper recognition.
She’d told me everything she owned would eventually be mine, and she’d give me a generous allowance each month, so I shouldn’t worry about shares or positions. She’d also keep my official salary low to help me with tax avoidance.
Back then, I was still deeply in love with her, so I willingly abandoned a promising career path to join her startup. But her proposition still felt instinctively wrong.
At the time, I’d firmly told her: “My salary is earned income, and paying taxes is my duty. Besides, I’m young and perfectly capable; what sense does it make for me to live off your allowance?”
“Furthermore, without a proper title, my authority would be undermined. No legitimate company has its CEO’s personal assistant handling all business negotiations. How would I manage subordinates then? You’re building a real company, not some fly-by-night operation.”
Maya’s face darkened, but she eventually relented, giving me an appropriate position and salary.
She certainly had talent. Over the years, the company had expanded, from a single office to occupying three floors in the city’s most prestigious commercial district.
But this would soon no longer concern me. After breaking up, I certainly wouldn’t stay with this company.
Yet, I didn’t expect to see Ethan when I walked into Maya’s office.
Before I could even register my surprise, she immediately accosted me. “What was that yesterday? I told you to go see my dad first, didn’t I? Do you know… Luckily I sent Sam.”
I hadn’t closed the door yet. Sam, who was just passing by, heard her words, looked mortified, and hurried away.
Sam was Maya’s assistant. She frequently sent him on personal errands without paying him overtime. I’d repeatedly advised her not to be so unreasonable, and she’d only grudgingly given Sam a small raise.
I closed the door, a cold smirk on my face. “I called you to explain, but you were with Ethan then, so you blocked me.”
Ethan’s face darkened at my words. “I know I shouldn’t have disturbed Maya and Mr. Li yesterday, but Maya and I were simply being friends. Mr. Li, you can’t slander me like that.”
Maya also looked displeased. “Alex, don’t just spout nonsense. I told you yesterday I was just going to comfort Ethan. Don’t be so crude in your thoughts.”
“Comfort him so much you brought him to work with you today?”
Maya froze. “Ethan said he wanted something to do, so I brought him along. From today, he’ll take your position, and you’ll be his second-in-command.”
I was stunned. “What?”
She was indignant. “Ethan needs to gain work experience… Don’t worry, apart from the position change, all other benefits remain the same.”
Ethan stubbornly interjected, “I won’t be staying at Maya’s company long, Mr. Li. You don’t need to worry.”
I laughed. “Then who’s going to do the work?”
The responsibilities of a director and a deputy director differed significantly.
Maya’s tone wavered. “Ethan has been abroad; he’s not very familiar with the local business environment. Just help him out.”
“Never mind,” Ethan said, feigning magnanimity, “My request was a bit much. I’ll find another way.”
“Wait!” Maya grabbed Ethan’s arm, then turned to me. “Alex, be sensible. I haven’t even blamed you for yesterday’s incident yet.”
“Enough. Don’t play this game.” I smiled faintly. “I quit.”
03
News of my resignation quickly spread through the company. My team members messaged me in our group chat, expressing their concern and asking if I intended to take them with me.
I was surprised. Was Maya really that unpopular? But then again, it made perfect sense.
In the early days of the startup, things were fine. But as the company grew, Maya became less respectful of her employees, often cutting benefits. Her employees mostly received empty promises.
The more I tried to advise her, the more displeased she became, starting to lecture me with her “upper-echelon mindset.”
I didn’t want to burn all bridges, and I also wanted to take some time off before finding a new job, so I politely declined their offer. These subordinates were all highly capable, and I knew they could easily find better jobs elsewhere if they left.
A few days later, I unexpectedly received a call from a headhunter. They said Horizon Corp. was offering me twice my current salary and other generous terms to join their company.
They even mentioned that if I could bring my team, the salary could be negotiated further.
After hanging up, I was perplexed. Horizon Corp. was a national business giant. While Maya’s company had grown, it was incomparable to Horizon.
Why would they use a headhunter to poach me and my team?
I initially thought it was a scam, but the documents the headhunter sent confirmed it was indeed Horizon Corp.
I couldn’t for the life of me recall any connection I had with Horizon, but it was a rare opportunity, so I replied that I was willing to meet.
Just then, Maya asked me to come to her office.
I entered to find her with a dark expression.
“What do you want?”
“Why aren’t you cooperating with Ethan?”
“Cooperating with what? Fetching coffee, making copies, delivering files? Is that my job?”
“…He’s new, but you don’t have to be so rude. You could teach him.”
“I’m already organizing the handover documents. I’ll get them to him as soon as possible. Until then, tell him not to bother me.”
“Handover for what? You’ll still be the director once he leaves.”
“We’ve broken up. It’s not appropriate for me to stay at the company.”
“Break up? I didn’t agree!”
Maya abruptly stood up, her face livid.
“Are you serious, Alex? You’re condemning me for just one mistake?”
“It’s not just one. Have you forgotten two years ago?”
Two years ago, on the day Maya and I planned to celebrate our anniversary, Ethan suddenly called, saying he had a fever and felt terrible. Maya, despite my protests, insisted on leaving to take Ethan to the hospital.
She returned two days later, then profusely apologized, claiming she couldn’t bear the thought of Ethan being alone and uncared for in the city, with his family far away.
She promised me it would never happen again.
My feelings for her were still deep then, so I forgave her, but I also told her there would be no second chance.
Now, hearing me say this, Maya suddenly laughed. “Are you jealous? You remember something from so long ago. Alright, I promise you, after I help him this time, I won’t contact him again. And please, give me another chance. Don’t they say ‘third time’s the charm’?”
I shook my head. “You should focus on getting him up to speed with the work.”
Her face changed. “Are you serious?”
“What do you think?” I turned and left the office, hearing the sound of something shattering as I closed the door.
For me, there was no ‘third time’s the charm.’ Forgiving her once was already a lapse in judgment brought on by love.
04
I returned to my office and saw Ethan directing someone to move a cardboard box.
The person dragged their feet, clearly reluctant, and visibly relaxed when they saw me.
A cold knot formed in my stomach, and I frowned. “Such a rush?”
Ethan stood with his arms crossed. “Maya said this office is mine now, so I asked someone to pack your things.”
I shot him a look. “You could have waited for me. Is it your upbringing to mess with other people’s belongings when they’re not around?”
I took the cardboard box from the person’s hands. “You can go now.”
The person eagerly agreed and left.
Stepping into the office, I quickly searched through the box.
Ethan quickly followed. “What are you doing?”
“Checking for anything missing or damaged.”
He scoffed. “Do you think I’d take your stuff?”
Just then, at the bottom of the box, I found the pen I had been worried about.
The moment I saw it, blood rushed to my head.
That treasured fountain pen, a gift from my grandfather after he graduated high school, which I had used ever since his passing, was now carelessly tossed in the box with its cap, the nib splayed and ruined—clearly from being dropped.
It took every ounce of my self-control, deep, shaky breaths, to rein in my fury. I held up the ruined pen, its splayed nib glinting accusingly, towards Ethan. “How do you explain this?”
Ethan shrugged, utterly nonchalant. “It just slipped and fell when I was packing. You can always get a new one, can’t you?”
Hearing his dismissive tone, my patience snapped. My right hand immediately lashed out, landing a heavy punch on his face.
He was stunned, reeling. Coming to his senses, he clutched his face, his expression livid. “You hit me!”
I sneered. “And I’ll do it again!”
Just as I was about to land another blow, someone shoved me. I collided with the corner of my office desk, a sharp pain shooting through my left hand.
Maya’s face was chalk-white with fury. “It’s just a pen, is it worth hitting someone over?”
I stared intently at her. “You know what this pen means to me.”
“So what? A pen is just an object. I’ll buy you a new one. Now apologize to Ethan.”
My last shred of hope withered. “You’ve crossed a line, Maya. Don’t expect me to hold back anymore.”
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “392759”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
On the Isle of Lyra, in my third year as a Seer Sister, Duke Julian Thorne deliberately drugged me, violating my vows and my purity.
He confessed, quite boldly, that he’d been captivated by me at first sight, wishing only to spend the rest of his life with me.
Left with no choice, I abandoned my sacred path and became his Duchess of Ashworth.
Three years into our marriage, however, the Duke was found spending the night in a disreputable establishment. He seemed to believe I had no one to rely on, openly remarking, “In bed, a former nun is quite… uninspired.”
I didn’t cry, I didn’t raise a scene. The very next morning, I stood before the Grand Altar of the Oracle and quietly called out: “Aunt Bea.”
“Melody is pregnant, Gemma. My child cannot be born into the streets,” Julian Thorne said, pushing a cup of tea across the polished mahogany table toward me, his eyes gleaming with expectation. “I am a man, after all. How could I endure your constant devotion to the chapel?”
Seeing my silence, Julian launched into a tirade, blaming me for his transgressions. I offered a wry smile. He conveniently forgot how he had drugged me all those years ago. The Seer Sisters of Lyra had been prepared to exact the ultimate price for his transgression, to unleash the full wrath of the Isle. But that night, he had crept into my chambers, whispering promises: You can still pursue your sacred path, Gemma, even by my side. You will be queen in our home, and I will forever be your devoted servant.
I believed him. I willingly endured the Hundred and Eight Sacred Trials of Lyra, a penance meant for profound transgressions. When I emerged, my bones aching, my body broken, Julian himself knelt before the High Matron of the Order, begging her to spare my life.
After our marriage, Julian had lavished me with affection. On my first formal appearance at court, a young noblewoman from a powerful House attempted to drug me. I disgraced myself before the King, and the whispers turned to outright mockery. “I say, the Duchess of Ashworth is no pious former nun,” someone snickered, “she looks more like a wanton harlot!”
Julian, usually so composed, had lashed out, striking the woman across the face with a resounding smack. His eyes held a ferocity I had never seen before. “Any more slander against my Duchess, and today will be your last!”
After that, no one dared to openly criticize me.
Julian’s outburst, however, had offended King Alaric, who, in turn, placed a powerful Binding Charm upon him. From then on, Julian was forced to seek the King’s antidote monthly.
“Gemma, once Melody enters our home, you can still find solace in the chapel. And the child she bears will recognize you as its mother,” Julian promised, reaching for my hand as if nothing had changed.
But he had forgotten. The High Matron, when she saved my life, had issued a dire warning: Gemma is no ordinary Seer Sister. Should you betray her, know that the Isle of Lyra will pursue you to the ends of the earth.
In the three years since I married, I had severed all ties with the Isle of Lyra. Julian, it seemed, had also forgotten the Matron’s solemn threat.
I placed the teacup back on the table, evading his attempt to kiss me. Finally, I conceded. “Bring her back, then.”
Julian stared at the untouched tea, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. But my words, the unexpected surrender, overwhelmed him with such joy that he bounded out of the room like a giddy boy.
My maid, Elara, asked why I hadn’t drunk the tea. “Madam, His Majesty personally bestowed this Silver Dew tea. Is it not your favorite?”
Julian believed I was oblivious. In these three years of marriage, I had remained barren because he had secretly been lacing my tea with a potent contraceptive.
I tipped the cup, emptying the contents into a potted plant, and then retrieved a message discreetly delivered by my aunt’s messenger.
Gemma, in seven days, His Majesty will hold the Grand Consecration Ceremony. The realm will bow before the Altar.
At that time, you will be the new Oracle.
The next day, Julian, consumed by eagerness, brought Melody Sinclair into the manor. He even granted her the status of his equal wife, a rare and deeply insulting slight to a Duchess.
At the lavish banquet, Julian saw me enter and immediately roared, “Go back to your chambers!”
My eyes burned, fixed on the hand concealed beneath his sleeve, clasped around Melody’s. He had never spoken a harsh word to me before. But now, he feared I would disrupt his and Melody’s celebratory feast, so he had ordered his personal guard to confine me to my room since dawn.
The moment the guests saw me, whispers rippled through the hall.
“The former nun doesn’t even know, does she? The Duke only married her because she resembled Melody.”
“Three years ago, Melody was unjustly imprisoned. The Duke thought she was dead and went to the Isle of Lyra to light a soul-candle for her. Otherwise, how could this little nun have ever married the Duke?”
“Now that the Duke’s true love has returned, I’d bet he’ll discard his Duchess within two weeks!”
………………
I lifted my gaze, studying Melody’s face. Indeed, she bore an uncanny resemblance to me—perhaps an eighty percent likeness. No wonder Julian had rushed to embrace me upon our first meeting, as if he had found a lost treasure. No wonder he had wept tears of joy, declaring his instant love for me.
Recalling every moment of our past, it all seemed a cruel mockery.
Elara steadied me from behind. I couldn’t bear to look any longer, stumbling back towards the rear courtyard.
Julian, seeing me falter, instinctively surged forward. “Gemma, be careful!”
In the past, I would have undoubtedly melted into his arms, playfully feigning weakness. But now, the mere thought of his touch filled me with revulsion. I flung his hand away.
I retreated to the chapel alone, replaying every memory of my time with Julian. The frescoes on the chapel walls were painted by his own hand. The sacred texts within were copied together, page by page. Even the chapel itself was painstakingly recreated by him, a perfect replica of the meditation hall I had known on the Isle of Lyra.
“Duchess, did Julian ever tell you that the painting in this chapel… he actually painted it to resemble me?”
Melody’s voice, startlingly abrupt, sliced through the stillness. She strode in, pulling down one of the frescoes and holding it before my eyes.
The woman in the painting. She had a distinct tear-mole beneath her eye, a detail I lacked. When he had painted it, I had playfully chided him: You paint me without even looking at me? What kind of artist are you?
Julian had smiled then, his eyes soft. My heart knows your likeness, how could I not know your form?
I had fallen, lost in his honeyed words, my heart completely given. But now I understood. The one in his heart was never me.
“Gemma Sterling, do you know the Duke never loved you? Do you know how much he detests that you turned his bedchamber into a chapel?”
I stared at Melody, incredulous. When we designed it, Julian had smiled and said it was perfect.
She lifted her skirt, revealing a patchwork of angry bruises beneath. “The Duke said… one night of passion with me surpassed all his time with you these past three years…”
I couldn’t bear to listen further. I rose, gave her one last look, then walked out of the chapel.
Half an hour later, Julian burst into my chambers, his hand raised, and slapped me hard across the face!
CRACK!
My ears rang violently. My eyes wide with disbelief, I stared at Julian.
“Gemma Sterling, if you were unhappy with my marriage to Melody, you should have said so! Why agree to her entry, only to then try to take her life?”
Julian clamped his hand around my wrist, his grip so brutal that tears streamed down my face. He seemed not to notice, his eyes blazing with fury as he interrogated me.
A servant, seeing my bewilderment, quickly offered an explanation. After I left, a fire had broken out in the chapel. Melody, who had been inside praying, was injured when a burning beam collapsed, leaving a horrific scar across her face.
“Duchess, I know you resent my beauty, but I never intended to take anything that belonged to you…” Melody sobbed, her voice trembling. “Now that my face is ruined, how am I to live?”
Before I could utter a single word of explanation, Melody collapsed, feigning a faint. I was about to protest, but Julian was already gone, cradling Melody in his arms.
Soon after, he returned with his personal guard. They seized me, pinning me down. His eyes were cold, devoid of all warmth.
“You ruined the most precious thing to Melody. Now, I shall take from you what you hold most dear!”
With that, his longsword flashed, piercing my palm. I screamed, an agonizing sound, as Julian stepped forward and brutally snapped my wrist.
“Gemma Sterling, your heart is venomous, you have harmed my mistress. You are hereby stripped of your rank and demoted to a concubine!”
“Melody Sinclair, you are hereby elevated to Duchess of Ashworth!”
The searing pain in my hand coursed through my entire body. I writhed on the floor, barely able to move. My origins were humble; the King’s Mother had been against my marriage, but Julian had knelt outside the palace gates for three days and three nights to obtain the royal decree for our union. And now, he himself was degrading me to a mere concubine.
I clutched at the fabric of my gown, helplessly watching Julian walk away, his figure receding into the distance. My chest felt as though it were being gnawed by ants. Blood flowed ceaselessly from my hand. A maid attempted to staunch the flow, but I merely scoffed, shaking my head.
Julian was a warrior; he had personally broken my wrist. These hands could never again hold a quill to write. He knew full well that I cherished the sacred texts, that my life’s purpose was to copy them.
I let out a bitter laugh, pain and despair intertwining in my heart, keeping me awake through the long night.
The next morning, Julian burst into my room, kicking the door open with a furious boot.
“Reporting to the Isle of Lyra? Gemma Sterling, you promised me you would never return there!” Julian roared, flinging a letter into my face and clamping his hand around my jaw.
When I married him, I had said: If you never betray me, I will never return to the Isle of Lyra. But now Julian had betrayed me for another woman, destroying my hands. How could I dare to remain by his side?
“My Lord, my hand was ruined because of me. Will the people of the Isle of Lyra seek revenge on me?” Melody whimpered, clinging to Julian’s chest. “Melody fears not death, but she fears being separated from you again…”
Julian’s voice was softer than I had ever heard it, filled with a tenderness that twisted my gut. “Melody, I will never allow anything to happen to you again.” He looked at me, a cold sneer on his lips, his words sharp as daggers. “I have severed all contact between the Isle of Lyra and Gemma. From this day forth, Gemma will serve Melody!” His gaze hardened, “Should anyone from the Isle of Lyra dare to harm you, Melody, Gemma will not leave this manor alive!”
Melody smirked triumphantly at me, her eyes glinting with malicious challenge. She knew my hands were useless, yet she ordered me to wash all the clothes in the courtyard. That night, as I dozed off, her maid brutally kicked me in the back. “The Duchess says you’re not to sleep until all the washing is done!” I was sent sprawling into the basin of water, soaked to the bone, but she forbade me from changing my clothes. The night was cold. Within the hour, my consciousness began to fray.
In my haze, I thought I saw Julian watching me from a distance. But what landed on me was another blow from the maid’s stick.
Julian feared I would send word to the Isle of Lyra, so he stationed four of his elite guards to watch me. My back was a bloody mess, skin torn open, yet I was utterly helpless.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I finished all the washing. Melody, however, suddenly ordered her servants to drag me to the main hall. Her eyes were icy. With a single glance, the men behind me instantly pinned me to the floor.
I snapped awake, struggling, refusing to kneel. A devotee of the sacred path kneels only to the Heavens, to one’s parents, and to the Divine. Beyond that, to no one.
“My Lord, I was wrong, please, I beg you, don’t make me kneel!” Julian suddenly entered from the doorway. I grabbed at his sleeve, pleading desperately.
Julian looked at me, a flicker of something resembling reluctance in his eyes.
“My Lord, Gemma ruined my new gown. Do you think she should be punished?” Melody purred, throwing herself into his arms, tears glistening in her eyes.
In an instant, his expression hardened again, turning cold. “Destroying the Duchess’s gown certainly deserves punishment!”
With just that one sentence, the men behind me kicked my knee.
CRACK! My bone shattered instantly, and I collapsed to the floor.
Melody flung the gown onto my prone body, then placed her feet, one by one, on my outstretched hands. Her pretty face was alight with smug triumph. “Gemma, make sure you wash tonight’s clothes very, very carefully.” The sharp point of her shoe-buckle dug into the back of my hand, and blood welled up, slowly flowing down my wrist.
Julian glanced at it, then quickly covered Melody’s eyes, murmuring softly, “Dirty.”
Pain and humiliation twisted in my heart. I clutched the letter hidden beneath my clothes, weeping silently.
When I followed Julian away from the Isle of Lyra, the High Matron had warned me: “If you insist on leaving with him, Gemma, you are destined to face a trial of the heart in this life.”
At the time, my eyes saw only Julian’s professed love for me. I remembered his promise: No one will ever hurt you, unless I am dead. But in the end, it was he himself who hurt me.
But it was alright. In three days, the Grand Consecration Ceremony for the Oracle, the Ceremony of the Thousand Bows, would take place. As a Seer Sister from the Isle of Lyra, Julian would certainly be obligated to take me.
Three days from now, we would part ways, forever.
Even as I lay in bed, unable to move, Julian stubbornly forced me to drink a medicinal broth, insisting I tend to Melody’s unborn child. For days, I had tried to explain that I had not harmed her. But Julian had roared, “Only you knew the chapel’s weaknesses! If not for your arson, how could Melody have been scarred?”
He demanded I atone for Melody’s suffering, promising that once her child was safely born, he would restore my former life. I remained silent, quietly agreeing. “Very well.”
One day, when the maid was taking me to buy medicine, she advised me: “Madam, everyone can see that you spend your days in the chapel and avoid closeness with His Grace. He’s just angry with you! If you just soften your stance a little, he’ll stop tormenting you.”
I smiled, but I did not agree.
Every year at this time, the Seer Sisters of Lyra observed a period of strict abstinence, both from rich foods and worldly pleasures. For the past two years, Julian had indulged me. If I avoided his touch, he would spend his days in the chapel with me, reciting sacred texts. But this year, I had waited in the chapel until dawn and had not seen a trace of Julian.
The next day, I learned he had spent the night in a disreputable establishment. From that moment, my heart had inexplicably wrenched, as if a piece had been torn out of me.
People on the streets knew that Julian had cast me aside. Even beggars dared to accost me.
“I’ve never had a taste of a nun before. Little nun, why don’t you come with me?”
“Do you wear your plain robes in bed, too? The thought is quite… stimulating.”
Ragged hands groped at me from all sides, but I had no strength to resist. In the past, whenever I left the manor, Julian would always assign me a few personal guards. Now, those guards were all assigned to Melody’s courtyard. Men’s hands brushed against me, and I screamed in terror.
“No! Don’t touch me!”
“Who dares cause such a disturbance here?!”
The Lord Chancellor of the Capital passed by, rescuing me from the mob. Once the crowd dispersed, the ruffians had vanished. Someone was deliberately targeting me, yet trying to remain unseen.
Back at the manor, Melody’s eyes widened in shock to see me return unharmed. I knew my suspicions were correct. In the very heart of the capital, no one would dare to openly assault me. Melody was desperate for me to lose my purity, so Julian would have a pretext to get rid of me.
I carried the bitter herbal brew to her, yet I didn’t expose her malicious scheme.
Not long after, I was thrown before Melody’s bed. Julian’s longsword pointed at my throat, and he roared, his voice hoarse with fury, “Gemma Sterling, I never thought you were so vicious! Harming Melody wasn’t enough, now you would kill her unborn child?!”
He plunged his sword into my shoulder. My long gown immediately turned crimson.
“You seek death!”
Julian kicked me to the ground, his heavy boot pressing down on my chest.
“My Lord, My Lord, you must avenge our child…” Melody gasped her last words, then quickly fell unconscious.
Julian was convinced that the herbal brew I had delivered tonight had caused Melody’s miscarriage. Without hesitation, he had me thrown into the serpent pit.
The dozen venomous vipers, having been deprived of food for half a month, gazed at me with gleaming, ravenous eyes. They said that the last person thrown in there hadn’t even left bones behind.
A maid stood by the pit, weeping, begging me to explain everything. But I simply asked, my voice faint, “Julian Thorne, do you know that the Seer Sisters of Lyra possess the gift of foresight?”
He paused, a flicker of confusion in his eyes, quickly replaced by raging anger. He kicked me down.
I plunged dozens of feet. My already frail bones shattered completely, and I coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood. The serpents slowly began to coil around me. I stifled the bitterness in my heart. From above, Julian’s voice, cold and detached, gave his orders: “Watch her. Don’t let her die!”
“I want her to long for death, but never find it!”
These past few days, he had assigned many men to monitor me. Had he bothered to investigate, he would have known I had no opportunity to drug Melody. Moreover, I had known for some time that the child in her womb was stillborn. But I knew that no matter how much I explained, Julian would never believe me.
When the serpents bit me, I had no strength to evade them. The pain in my heart eclipsed that of my body. My already shattered heart was crushed once more.
Julian and I were truly over.
The next day, I was dragged out of the pit, covered in blood. There wasn’t an inch of unblemished skin on my body. I drifted into unconsciousness. In my hazy state, I heard Julian’s cold voice. “Splash her with water. I don’t believe she can fake death!”
Julian had long known that the Seer Sisters of Lyra were immune to poisons, but he had forgotten one crucial detail: I was terrified of serpents.
“His Majesty has specifically requested your presence at the Grand Consecration Ceremony. If you dare utter a single word out of place, Gemma, you will not leave this manor alive!” Julian threatened me from inside the carriage, his voice low and dangerous.
I stared at the man before me. He had once loved me, but now, for the sake of another woman, he suspected me, he loathed me. I remained silent, quietly closing my eyes.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “392775”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
I was merely a consort in the Duke’s household, but His Grace doted on his Duchess, disregarding all others. The Duchess, however, was consumed by her affection for the Duke, utterly neglecting the management of the inner court. Thus, the authority of the household slipped from her grasp, and I became the de facto mistress of the estate. Later, when the Duke first ascended to the throne as King, his loyal courtiers presented me as their choice for Queen. I, once a mere consort, became his Queen, taking my place at the heart of the royal court. And the proud Lady of the House, who had once looked down upon me, was relegated to the very position she despised: a lesser consort.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “392793”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
1
Mid-wedding, the ring bearer, my older sister, Sarah, suddenly collapsed before me, frantically bowing her head to the ground, her voice raw. “Lily, please, give Eddy back to me! I did as you said, I slept with those thirty lowlifes. Please, just let me go!”
My fiancé, Eddy Kingston, exploded. He immediately called off the wedding, then had his men drag me to ‘The Pit’ to pay for my sins.
For two agonizing months, I was forced to ‘entertain’ clients almost non-stop. My body became a canvas of bruises and cuts, a landscape of agony. My legs… they were utterly broken, twisted in ways they weren’t meant to be, a twisted testament to their cruelty. Then, finally, Eddy remembered me. But I could only lower my head, numb and distant, automatically dropping to my knees at his feet, my trembling fingers already reaching, expertly, for the buttons on his shirt…
When I stumbled out of The Pit, my body contorted in unnatural ways, Eddy Kingston was already waiting. My former rival-turned-fiancé, Leo Thorne, was right there beside him, phone held high, live-streaming, capturing every humiliating detail of my soiled, broken form.
“Tsk, Lily,” Leo sneered, “finally out? Want to spend a few more months in The Pit? Haven’t paid enough for your sins, have you?”
The familiar voice sent a tremor through my frame. I bit down hard, suppressing the metallic taste of blood that surged to my throat, then instinctively, skillfully, dropped to my knees at Eddy’s feet, my trembling fingers already reaching for the buttons on his shirt.
Those two months had etched a new reality into my bones. The room had been plastered with Eddy’s photos, his cold, cutting voice looped endlessly, day and night, while nameless faces came and went, a constant, dehumanizing carousel. Eventually, whenever Eddy’s voice pierced the air, my body would instinctively begin to shed my clothes. I’d learned. I’d adapted. This was simply how it was.
As my fingers reached the third button, Eddy slapped my hand away. He gripped my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his, a dark fury simmering in his gaze. “Lily Vance, are you out of your mind?!”
My body instinctively recoiled, the memory of past beatings for disobedience flashing through my mind. But then I pushed myself back towards him, my voice a broken whisper. “No, please, don’t hit me. I’ll obey. I’ll do whatever you want. I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have hurt anyone. I confess…”
Eddy stared, a flicker of something in his eyes before it morphed into utter disgust. “What new act is this? Playing the victim? It was just two months in The Pit! With your connections, who would dare touch you? Lily Vance, drop the act!”
Leo Thorne, still live-streaming, doubled over in cruel laughter. He maliciously patted my head, then aimed his phone back at my face. “Lily Vance, your acting skills have really improved, haven’t they? You like taking off your clothes, right? Come on, strip for the camera! Let the whole Metropolis get a good look at the little princess’s figure!”
The old Lily Vance would have shattered a wine bottle over Leo’s head. But now, I merely turned, a vacant, mechanical smile plastered on my face, and resumed unbuttoning the few remaining fasteners on my clothes, obligingly facing his camera. The proud, defiant Lily Vance had been utterly destroyed in those two months, utterly destroyed by Eddy Kingston’s own hand.
When I first entered The Pit, I’d smashed a camera that was filming me. For that, I was beaten for three agonizing days, then tossed into the back alley. My stomach gnawed with hunger, I had to fight stray dogs for scraps, for dead rats. One night, I got lucky. A client fell asleep, and I secretly grabbed his phone to call Eddy, begging him to save me. But his voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Lily, you’re being disobedient. Compared to what Sarah endured, this is just a minor punishment. You deserve all of it!”
I cried until my throat burned, but then I heard a soft, delicate sob from his end. “Eddy, maybe… just let it go. I’m fine, really. I’m already ruined anyway.” Only later did I learn that night, they stayed in a hotel. Countless intimate photos of them were printed and thrown at my face, plastered all over the walls of that cramped room, a constant, mocking reminder that Eddy Kingston never loved me.
My fingers reached the final button. Leo’s increasingly lewd laughter filled the air, and I heard him maliciously reading out comments from the live stream. A stinging slap from Eddy snapped me back to painful reality. His face was livid, his eyes dark with a furious, dangerous glint. “Lily Vance! What in God’s name are you doing?! Have you sunk to such a shameless low? Would you willingly strip naked right here, right now?!”
“Where’s your temper, Lily?! I only wanted you to learn your lesson, to humble you! You don’t need to put on this sickening act! Where’s your pride?! Where’s your courage to fight back?!”
2
I’d heard those words countless times over the past two months. They meant nothing to me anymore. Eddy, seeing my silence, angrily shoved me into the car and drove me home. When we arrived, Mom, Dad, and Sarah were already at the dinner table. They greeted Eddy warmly, ignoring me completely, as if I were invisible.
“Lily, you’re so thin,” Sarah cooed, pulling me into a tight embrace. She pressed hard on the fresh wounds scarring my back. As she leaned in close, her voice dropped, thick with venom. “Haha, weren’t those men I found for you good? Did you enjoy yourself?”
I froze, my face instantly draining of color. I instinctively pushed her away, desperate to demand why she was doing this to me. Why she framed me at the wedding! Why she continued to torment me! I was her own sister! But in the next beat, Sarah, with a theatrical stumble, collapsed onto the floor, scraping her arm and knees, the crimson of fresh blood instantly blooming against the pristine tile. “Lily,” she whimpered, her face awash in tears, her eyes wide and broken, “you still hate your sister, don’t you?”
“Enough, Lily Vance! I knew you were faking it!” Eddy shoved me away, his eyes blazing. He swept Sarah into his arms, carefully placing her on the sofa. “You play the victim in front of me, but the moment you see Sarah, you turn into a monster! If you think the punishment wasn’t enough, then go right back to The Pit! She’s been ruined because of your actions, and you still refuse to show remorse! How can you be so utterly wicked!”
Sarah’s triumphant gaze met mine, but I felt nothing, merely sinking back to my knees, an instinctive response to the furious shouts. Mom and Dad’s faces were grim, their voices cold, alien. “Lily Vance! You have utterly shamed the Vance name! Stripping on a live stream, in front of the entire city – where is the upbringing we gave you?! Who gave you the audacity to torment Sarah, time and time again?!”
I numbly raised my head, meeting Mom and Dad’s angry, disgusted gazes, my heart plummeting to a cold, desolate hell. My upbringing, my dignity, they were long gone, stripped away piece by agonizing piece by endless torment and humiliation. All I knew was that if I didn’t comply, I would be beaten, I would starve. The searing pain of my legs being broken and reset… I was utterly terrified. I still was.
“Mom, Dad, please don’t blame Lily,” Sarah said, her voice dripping with false concern. “Maybe she just can’t accept it yet. If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t have been punished. Being forced to… serve… at The Pit, it was indeed too severe a punishment.” Hearing this, Dad, his face contorted in a furious mask, stomped over to me and delivered a brutal slap, the force so great that the metallic tang of blood instantly flooded my mouth. “You disobedient wretch! You ruined your sister and you still have the gall to throw a tantrum?! You will kneel here until you apologize to your sister! Not a moment before!”
My body trembled, my face draining of color, inch by agonizing inch. The depraved tastes of The Pit’s clients, the countless times I’d been forced to kneel… those memories flooded back, overwhelming. A wave of raw despair washed over me, and I bit down hard, desperate to stifle any sound. Dad, misinterpreting my silence as defiance, crouched before me, about to speak. But my next actions cut him off. Trembling violently, tears streaming from my vacant eyes, my hands instinctively moved to my chest, unfastening the buttons Eddy had so carefully re-done.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I’m so sorry, please let me go. Don’t hit me, okay? I’ll undress faster. You can do whatever you want. I beg you…”
3
The living room fell silent, a chilling, sudden hush. Mom and Dad stared, uncomprehending, at my trembling hands. It was Eddy who snapped back to reality first. He tore off his jacket, roughly wrapping it around me, his face a thundercloud, dark enough to drip ink. “Lily Vance! What in God’s name is wrong with you?! This is your home! Why are you still acting insane?! No one here will hurt you! Can you stop faking it?! Aren’t you the one bullying Sarah?!”
But I was lost, trapped in the nightmare. I thrashed, desperate to tear off the jacket, collapsing to my knees, endlessly fumbling for the buttons, a broken, desperate plea escaping my lips. “Please, I’ll unbutton. Don’t hit me, okay? I beg you…”
The most terrifying memory flashed before me. One client, in a fit of cruel excitement, had sewn my clothes tightly onto my body, demanding I strip quickly. If I was too slow, a whip with barbs, scalding cigarette butts, or knives heated to a black char awaited me. I was perpetually starved, sleep-deprived, utterly powerless to resist. If my hands couldn’t tear the fabric, I used my teeth. By the time I was naked, my body was a canvas of fresh, bloody wounds. Even now, those scars resurface, phantom pains that never truly heal.
After exhausting myself with the struggle, Mom and Dad finally called Dr. Ethan Caldwell, the Kingston family physician. He administered a strong sedative, and only then did a fragile calm finally settle over me.
“Miss Vance’s mental state is deeply troubled,” Dr. Caldwell said, his voice grave. “She appears to have suffered profound psychological trauma. I strongly recommend she see a professional psychologist immediately.” He paused, his gaze softening with a flicker of raw concern. “Her condition is critical. She needs to be hospitalized without delay!”
Mom’s expression flickered, a momentary shadow of worry crossing her face. But then her eyes fell on Sarah, who looked on the verge of tears, and the fleeting concern vanished, replaced by her usual cold indifference.
Eddy stared at me, his gaze contemptuous. “Mental illness? Lily Vance? How can that be? She’s not the type to break down! She’s capable of orchestrating bullying against Sarah, of openly assaulting her – how could she be mentally ill?”
“Lily Vance, how long will you keep up this farce? You were a ‘server’ for a couple of months, and now you’re suddenly mentally ill? Are you saving all your defiance for feigning madness?”
“Or are you changing tactics now? Pretending to be mentally ill to gain sympathy? Do you think that incident will just disappear so easily? How will you ever repay what you owe Sarah?!”
I stared blankly at the ceiling, my eyes vacant, utterly unmoved by Eddy’s mockery. Then Sarah leaned close, a cruel glint flickering in her eyes. “Lily, what’s that on your neck?” she cooed, reaching out to tug my collar down, exposing a constellation of purplish-red marks. “You… you didn’t find yourself a boyfriend, did you? What about Eddy? You’re almost married! How could you do such a thing?”
I flinched, shrinking back, curling into a tight ball, tears silently streaming down my face. Eddy froze, his gaze locked onto my neck. After a long, agonizing moment, he finally suppressed his raging fury. He seized me, hauling me off the bed and dragging me downstairs. Only after shoving me into the car did he finally speak, his voice choked with barely suppressed rage. “Lily Vance, who is that man?! Who gave you permission to see someone else, to be with someone else?! Just because I punished you, you deliberately sought this out, didn’t you?! Do you have no heart?!”
“Tell me! Who is he?! Are you faking madness because you want to run off with him?! What do you take me for, Lily Vance?! A complete fool?!”
I couldn’t bear it any longer. I screamed, covering my ears, frantically shrinking into myself, desperate to escape Eddy’s grip. Sobbing brokenly, I pleaded hoarsely, dropping to my knees before him, frantically bowing my head to the ground. “I beg you, please let me go. It hurts so much, I’ll be good, I don’t need money, please don’t hit me, okay? I can do anything. You can record whatever you want. Just please, don’t hit me. Don’t hit me…”
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “392810”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
I died in my wife’s courtyard, forced to give my lifeblood for her childhood love. Before my last breath, my five-year-old son Ethan begged Queen Eleanor three times to save me.
First, Ethan rushed in, saying I was coughing blood. She sneered, “He’s teaching the boy to lie,” and had him removed.
Second, Ethan pounded on her door, crying I was convulsing. She scoffed, “It’s just a little blood, not his heart,” and sent him away.
Third, Ethan knelt, forehead to the ground, pleading I was unconscious. Enraged, Eleanor yanked him up, tore his clothes, and threw him out. “Your father won’t die! Disturb me again, and I’ll dump him in a pauper’s grave!”
Desperate, Ethan traded his princely amulet to a beggar for a healer. But Marcus Thorne, Eleanor’s lover, intercepted the healer, smirking, “Your father sent all healers to my kennels for my dogs. He’ll have to wait.”
1
To stop the last healer, my son had cried and pleaded before Marcus Thorne. The boy who had once refused to acknowledge Marcus’s existence now called him “Uncle Marcus” with every breath. He cast aside all his pride, willingly kneeling before the man.
“Uncle Marcus, I beg you, please let a healer tend to my father.” He spoke between agonizing thumps of his head against the ground. Blood stained the flagstones, only sweetening Marcus’s mood. He chuckled, stroking the small dog in his arms, a triumphant grin on his face.
“Look at this. Our little Lord. Even more obedient than my own dog.” He paused, a cruel glint in his eyes. “Come on, bark for me.”
My son stiffened, tears mixing with fresh blood as they hit the dirt.
“Woof.”
The servants present burst into laughter, their scornful gazes raking over my son’s small, trembling body.
“Calling himself a Lord? He’s worse than a street urchin!”
“Shh! Don’t be foolish! If the Queen hears you, do you want to lose your head?”
“What does it matter? Everyone in the capital knows the Queen only cares for Lord Marcus. Haven’t you noticed the Lord Heir is five years old and still doesn’t even have a proper name?”
Hearing the servants’ whispers, Marcus’s smugness grew. He sneered, then turned and walked away, leaving my son kneeling in despair, his body trembling uncontrollably.
I lay in my sickbed, as if sensing something, and convulsed, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
The door creaked open.
“I’m sorry, Father. Your son is useless. I couldn’t find a healer.” Ethan came to my bedside, clumsily trying to wipe the blood from my lips, his eyes frighteningly swollen. But I could no longer see clearly. Through my blurring vision, I knew: I was dying. I wouldn’t live to see my child grow up.
To spare him my dying sight, I summoned my last ounce of strength, forcing a smile, and sent him away. “Father wants some almond pastries from the bakery down the street. Will you go buy some for him, please?”
My son froze for a few seconds, as if realizing something, and shook his head violently. “No, I won’t go. I’ll stay with you, Father. Please don’t make me leave.” He gripped my hand tightly, as if he intended to shed every tear he possessed in that moment.
Swallowing the bloody foam in my mouth, I feigned anger. “Are you disobeying your father? Buy the almond pastries, and Father will eat them with you.” Seeing my feigned anger, my son no longer insisted. He quickly wiped away his tears and agreed. “Okay, I’ll go buy them right now. Father, wait for me. You must wait for me.”
As he stepped out of the room, I used my last breath to shout. “Ethan!”
Meeting his confused gaze, I explained. “Father has given you a name.”
“From now on, you shall be called Ethan. It means bright and upright.”
“Father hopes you will be righteous, healthy, and… forever joyful.”
My son turned, his expression panicked. “Father…”
My consciousness began to blur. I bit hard on my lip, a bloody smile touching my lips. “Go now. Father will wait for your return.” My son seemed relieved and ran off with hurried steps. As his figure vanished, I closed my eyes.
“Ethan, I’m sorry, Father lied to you.”
2
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself a spirit, following my son out of the Royal Palace.
“Waiter! Waiter! I want some almond pastries!” My son clutched the server’s sleeve, calling out anxiously.
Seeing my son’s disheveled face, the server irritably waved him off, shooing him away. “Go on, scram, you little street urchin! Is this any place for the likes of you?”
Other customers in the shop covered their noses, looking at him as if he were a pile of refuse. “Exactly. Look where you are. What kind of person dares to waltz in here?”
“Filthy!”
The server, hearing the customers, quickly offered a few appeasing smiles, then brutally twisted my son’s ear. “You little rascal! Get out!”
My son cried out in pain. “I’m the Royal Heir! My father is sick, and I need to buy him almond pastries!”
Everyone froze, then burst into laughter. The server put his hands on his hips and spat directly at my son’s face. “You? Ha! I spit on you!”
“Go on, take a look in a puddle. See if anything on your body resembles a noble child! If you’re the Royal Heir, then I’m your great-grandfather! Now get out, out, out!” He then forcibly ejected my son from the shop. My son wiped the grime from his face, trying to go back inside, but the server kicked him hard in the stomach. The pain made him unable to rise.
Just as despair washed over him, a hand suddenly reached out.
“Child, are you alright?” A young woman carefully brushed the dust from my son’s clothes, her voice full of concern.
“Mother…” My son instinctively called out, seeing the woman’s tall figure. Then, realizing his mistake, he mumbled a thank you.
The woman waved her hand, then pulled out a packet of almond pastries and offered them to my son. Perhaps having endured too many indignities that day, faced with a stranger’s kindness, my son’s eyes suddenly welled up. Clutching the oiled paper bag, he bowed repeatedly. “Thank you, madam.”
The woman, a little embarrassed, replied, “No need to thank me. This packet of almond pastries isn’t even mine.”
“It’s from Queen Eleanor. To celebrate the Prince Consort’s recovery, she’s been distributing food and pastries outside the city. I just happened to get one.”
“If you truly wish to thank someone, then wish Queen Eleanor and the Prince Consort a long and loving life together.”
My son stiffened, the memory of Eleanor dragging him from the main hall flashing in his mind. Then, the images he’d witnessed: Eleanor forcing Father to offer his vital essence. His eyes gradually dimmed.
“I understand. Thank you… Queen Eleanor.”
My heart felt a hundred times more painful than the moment it had been pierced. I watched my son’s desolate expression and remembered the past.
In truth, Eleanor once loved me and our son dearly. On the day of his birth, she risked both our lives to bear a child of my bloodline. When I was cornered by the Crown Prince, she fearlessly stormed into the East Palace, her eyes blazing, and brought me back to our home. She even whispered to me on her birthday that her wish was for our family to never be separated.
But all of that ended the day Marcus Thorne returned to the capital. He leveraged his childhood bond with Eleanor, repeatedly feigning helplessness and innocence to gain her sympathy. Then, he deliberately poisoned himself, framing me and our son, causing Eleanor to completely turn her back on us. From that moment on, everything changed.
On the street, the young woman nodded approvingly and asked, “By the way, where is your mother? How could she let you run off alone?”
My son froze, about to speak, when a gentle male voice sounded from behind them. “My dear.” A tall, young man, holding a boy about my son’s age, smiled and called out. “It’s getting late. We should head home.”
“Mom, let’s go home,” the boy said, clutching a candied hawthorn stick, his smile innocent and lively. The woman hummed in acknowledgment and hurried to walk between the two, one hand holding the man’s, the other the child’s, gradually receding into the distance. It wasn’t until their figures completely vanished that my son slowly withdrew his envious gaze. He looked at the almond pastries in his hand and finished the sentence he couldn’t before.
“My mother… she died.”
3
After bidding farewell to the kind stranger, my son hurried back to the Royal Palace, clutching the almond pastries. But just as he entered the gate, he collided with a casually strolling Marcus Thorne. Marcus recoiled, a look of instant disgust flashing across his defined features, and raised his hand, delivering a harsh slap to my son’s face.
“You filthy mongrel! Who gave you the right to touch me?”
My son, caught off guard, stumbled and fell. Blood quickly welled up at the corner of his mouth, and the oiled paper bag in his arms flew from his grasp. Ignoring the pain, my son scrambled to retrieve it. But Marcus wasn’t satisfied. He grabbed my son’s hair, forcing his eyes open. “Just as I thought, a bastard like your useless father, always playing the victim.”
“I’m warning you, stop putting on that pathetic act. If the Queen sees it, I won’t spare you, understand?” His eyes were cruel, as if he wished my son would simply vanish. I was driven to a frenzy of my own, frantically trying to pull his hand away, but it was all useless. Self-reproach and powerlessness choked me, yet Marcus only smiled wider, a look of triumph on his face.
He motioned for a servant to open the spilled paper bag on the ground. Seeing this, my son immediately began to struggle. “Those are for Father! You can’t touch them! Give them back!”
At the word “Father,” Marcus’s face darkened. He raised his foot and kicked my son directly in the stomach, making him cough up a mouthful of blood. “What ‘father’? From now on, I’m your father!” With that, he poured all the almond pastries onto the ground and ground them underfoot, repeatedly.
Witnessing this, my son’s eyes instantly reddened. He bit Marcus hard, thinking he could make him stop. Marcus cried out in pain and ordered the servants to lift my son. He unfastened the jade pendant from his waist, shoved it into my son’s mouth, and repeatedly stabbed at it. “You filthy mongrel, I’ll teach you to bite!”
Blood quickly stained my son’s clothes. He thrashed in agony, like a fish dying on land. “Mmmph… Father… save me…”
My heart shattered. I furiously clawed at Marcus, like a madman, wanting him to let go. Let go of my Ethan! It was no use. I then knelt on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly to Marcus. You want my lifeblood? Take it! You want the Prince Consort’s title? It’s yours! I’ll give you anything, just please, don’t hurt my child!
Marcus couldn’t hear me. He only admired the growing wounds around my son’s mouth, laughing heartily. As he basked in his triumph, a gentle female voice suddenly sounded from behind him.
“Marcus?”
Eleanor’s disbelieving voice startled everyone present. My son’s unfocused eyes suddenly brightened, his lips moving. “Mother…”
Eleanor’s expression tightened. She started to walk over, but Marcus, turning, drew her into his embrace, stopping her. “Eleanor, why did you take so long?” He subtly motioned for the servants to block my son from view, then expertly held Eleanor close. Eleanor sensed something was wrong and frowned. “What are you doing?”
Marcus’s eyes flickered, and he put on a vulnerable expression. “You weren’t here just now. The Heir, I don’t know who provoked him, but he kept insulting me, and… he even deliberately tripped me. You know, my body is just recovering from the poison. The healers said…”
Eleanor’s face darkened, and the confusion in her eyes instantly morphed into furious disappointment. “Arthur Blackwood truly knows less and less how to raise a child!”
“With a father like him, it’s no wonder the Heir is so unruly.” With that, she turned and swept out.
I stood in front of Eleanor, explaining frantically. No, it’s not like that. Ethan is very well-behaved. Marcus is lying to you! Don’t abandon my Ethan, don’t abandon him!
My son heard her words too, and, despite the pain, called out, “Mother!” But as soon as the word left his lips, a servant clapped a hand over his mouth. Eleanor paused, her back to us, wanting to turn around. “Did the Heir call for me?”
A flash of malice crossed Marcus’s eyes, then he feigned letting go of Eleanor’s hand. “Then go be with the Heir. I’m fine. Even if he did poison me and almost kept me from seeing you again, he’s still a child. I forgive him.”
“Eleanor, go to him. Don’t worry about me.”
Hearing that, Eleanor’s momentary hesitation instantly solidified into resolve. “An unpolished gem is useless. Since Arthur Blackwood can’t teach him manners, Marcus, you help me teach him well.”
“Save him from being lawless and bringing shame upon me.”
“I’ll wait for you in the annex.”
Watching her retreating back, the light in my son’s eyes gradually faded, until only a dead silence remained. Marcus smugly curled his lips, walked over to my son, and looked at him with feigned pity. “See? Your mother doesn’t even want you.”
“How pathetic.”
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “392827”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
1
At the wedding, my fiancé’s best friend, Julia, appeared in a stunning bridal gown. She usurped my place as the bride, exchanging rings with Andy Thorne, speaking vows meant for me. The sudden swap of brides left me exposed to the whispering judgment of every guest.
I tried to demand an explanation from Andy, but he simply shrugged, utterly unconcerned: “Julia was merely showing consideration for your difficult pregnancy, stepping in to spare you. Instead of being grateful and resting, you’re indulging in petty jealousy, judging a true friend with a malicious heart? When will you stop with this ridiculous jealousy? Julia and I are just friends, a bond deeper than any romantic dalliance. Even if there were anything more, it wouldn’t be your place to question it.”
Before every single guest, Andy and Julia shared a long, passionate kiss. After the ceremony, he carried her—drunken and oblivious—to our bridal suite to rest, leaving me alone, at the mercy of his groomsmen, who relentlessly plied me with drink. While I faced the terrifying prospect of miscarriage, brought on by emotional distress, Andy was celebrating his wedding night with his “best friend.”
Later, when I had a small package delivered to him—a chilling, undeniable testament to the life he’d carelessly destroyed—Andy gripped my shoulders, his eyes wild with frantic desperation. “Julia and I are done! Stop these cruel jokes, give me back our child!”
At the wedding venue, Julia glided in, adorned in the bridal gown I had personally designed, as Andy’s groomsmen erupted in cheers. I, the rightful bride, was barred at the entrance by security, forced to watch as they exchanged rings, a silent, helpless witness. For this wedding, I had tirelessly worked through my pregnancy, even lying awake all last night, trembling with anticipation. All because, after seven years of loving him, Andy Thorne was finally willing to make me his wife.
Yet today, the very rings and gown I had carefully prepared, the symbols of our union, were now adorning Julia. For a moment, I truly believed exhaustion had finally driven me to hallucinate.
“Look at Clara, she’s completely dumbfounded!”
“After chasing Andy for so long, and only getting a proposal because she was pregnant, the bride suddenly gets swapped for Julia. She’s definitely going to throw another tantrum.”
“Clara always tried to control Andy, stopping him from hanging out with us, especially forbidding him from being with Julia.”
“Now, she just looks like a pathetic clown!”
Andy’s groomsmen gossiped freely, their voices loud and utterly heedless of my presence or feelings. I knew they were doing this deliberately. They had always been Andy’s closest confidantes, especially Julia, the only woman among them. A single phone call from her, and Andy, even if he was in bed with me, would immediately stop everything and rush to meet her. This had caused countless arguments between Andy and me. But due to the strategic alliance between the Vance and Thorne families, and my genuine love for him, I always ended up apologizing first, seeking reconciliation. Andy would always “forgive” me, saying, “Clara, Julia and the guys are my best friends. You know your husband, I’m loyal to a fault. How could I ignore a call from my friends?”
Unlike other young lords, Andy valued sentiment. In the early days of our relationship, he had been endlessly attentive, showering me with affection. It had utterly captivated me, drawing me into his world. The security guard still held me back, unyielding, as on the dais, the officiant had already begun the exchange of vows between the “bride and groom.”
Andy knelt before Julia, his voice imbued with tender emotion, “Clara, will you marry me?”
A flicker of jealousy and resentment crossed Julia’s eyes. She glanced at me in the distance, then demurely accepted Andy’s proposal. The hall immediately erupted in a cacophony of whispers.
“Isn’t that Julia Davis, the youngest of the Davis family? Why is that Thorne boy calling her Clara?”
“Ah, you don’t know. Today was supposed to be the Thorne-Vance wedding, and Clara is Lady Vance’s name. But for some reason, Lady Vance never showed up!”
“Could the bride have been swapped? I heard Andy and Julia were childhood sweethearts, perfect for each other. If it weren’t for Clara suddenly appearing and clinging to Andy, they would have been together ages ago.”
“Exactly. The Thornes and Davises have been wealthy for generations. The Vances are just nouveau riche. Why would Andy choose a crude upstart over a refined childhood sweetheart?”
Julia. Always Julia. Every time she appeared, everyone seemed to believe she was a better match for Andy. Yet she always played the innocent, claiming she and Andy were “just friends.” Listening to the mounting whispers from the guests, I hardened my heart, pushed past the security guard, and burst through the doors. I stormed directly to Andy, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. “Andy Thorne, what is the meaning of this? Today is our wedding! You gave my gown and rings to Julia, and you’re declaring vows to her?!”
2
“Are you truly blind to Julia’s intentions for you? Or perhaps… you reciprocate them? You will give me an explanation today, or we are finished, right here, right now!”
Andy, who had initially reached for my hand upon seeing me, flinched back as I flung his arm away and launched into my furious interrogation. His face darkened, yet his words remained dismissive: “What do you mean? Julia was merely showing consideration for your difficult pregnancy, stepping in to spare you. Instead of being grateful and resting, you’re indulging in petty jealousy, judging a true friend with a malicious heart?”
I stared at him, utterly incredulous. “Stepping in for me?”
Since Andy and I began our relationship, this wasn’t the first time Julia had “stepped in” for me. When Andy took me to various business galas, Julia was always trailing by our side, pointedly ignoring my conversations with Andy. When others invited Andy to open the dance with his girlfriend, she would preemptively link her arm through his, sneering at me, “Clara, a country bumpkin like you, can you even dance? Scram.” Andy would frown, about to speak up for me, but then Julia would feign wounded innocence, her eyes welling up, “But I’m your best friend, are you going to abandon your friends for a pretty face?” and he would helplessly close his mouth, allowing me to be pushed aside.
Even during intimate dates between Andy and me, his groomsmen would barge in, egging Julia on to kiss Andy. “No offense, sister-in-law, but let Julia test if Andy’s lips are good for kissing!” They laughed raucously, pushing the heart-shaped cake I had personally baked towards Julia. Julia squeezed me out, settling beside Andy, playfully chiding, “Andy and I are just strictly platonic friends!” Yet, with a glance full of adoration, she fed him the cake, as if she were his lover.
I closed my eyes, battling the sharp ache in my chest, as I looked at Andy Thorne, the groom in his pristine suit—the very image I had longed for in my dreams. “Andy, today is our wedding. I don’t want to argue with you. Just make Julia give me back my gown and rings, promise that you’ll cut all ties with her, and I will pretend none of this ever happened.”
Andy scoffed, a cold sneer twisting his lips. “Clara, what is wrong with you? When will you get over this ridiculous jealousy? Julia and I are just friends, a bond deeper than any romantic dalliance. Even if there were anything more, it wouldn’t be your place to question it.”
Julia glared at me. “Clara, I was just being kind, stepping in as the bride for you! Look at you, with such a big belly, how inconvenient would it be to wear a wedding dress?” She turned, pouting sweetly to Andy. “Andy, I’ve seen enough of women like Clara—always so dramatic, constantly jealous, terrified their man will cheat. You mustn’t pity her!”
Andy looked at me thoughtfully, the disgust in his eyes deepening. The officiant, looking uncomfortable, cleared his throat. “Mr. Thorne, the vows are complete. It’s time for the groom and bride to kiss, if you please…”
“Julia, look up.” Andy shot me a provocative glance, then tilted Julia’s chin and kissed her. The crowd gasped, then Andy’s groomsmen led a boisterous round of applause.
“Congratulations, Andy, on winning your beautiful bride! Later, you must have a drink with us, your buddies!”
“Oh, look, the bride’s blushing…”
Amidst the chorus of blessings, I stood frozen, my face ghostly pale. My lips trembled, a voice that sounded alien to my own escaped me. “Andy…”
Andy finally released Julia, raising an eyebrow at me, his voice languid. “Clara, do you truly think that just because you’re carrying my child, you can walk all over me? I’ve been too lenient with you lately. Don’t forget who was begging for my attention, desperate to be with me in the first place.” The smile faded from Andy’s lips. He issued his final command. “Clara, this kiss today is a lesson for you, and a compensation for Julia. You are still my bride. When my parents arrive later, during the toasts, you will follow behind Julia and me.”
I listened numbly. Andy took my silence as acquiescence. He roughly pulled me forward, causing me to stumble, almost losing my balance. Julia looked at me with disdain. “Clara, you truly are useless. If it weren’t for your brother, Julian Vance, willing to throw money at the Thornes, Mother and Father would never have considered you as a daughter-in-law.”
Julian Vance was my brother, though not by blood. When I was nine, my parents adopted twelve-year-old Julian, the orphaned son of their close friends. When I turned twelve, my parents, like their friends, passed away. A fourteen-year-old Julian raised me, taking on the roles of both father and mother.
3
He had built an empire from nothing, becoming a new magnate in the City, yet was ridiculed as “nouveau riche” by these old-money families. To be with Andy, I had indeed begged Julian to invest a considerable fortune into the Thorne family. The Thornes, though boasting a vast and venerable estate, were in steady decline. Even if the Thornes disdained my background, they could not refuse the money practically handed to them. After I insisted on keeping Andy’s child, Julian, uncharacteristically, flew into a rage and severely beat Andy. And he had refused to see me ever since.
During the wedding preparations, I hesitated for a long time but still sent him an invitation. It too, sank without a trace.
“Father, Mother, you’re here.” A middle-aged couple, impeccably dressed in expensive attire, stepped out of their car. Andy smiled, striding confidently to greet them. “Mr. and Mrs. Thorne.” Julia followed closely behind, her smile sugary sweet. She had changed out of the bridal gown, but still wore a vibrant, striking crimson gown, as if afraid no one would notice her. Mrs. Thorne caressed Julia’s hand, her face beaming. “Julia, you look absolutely beautiful today!”
She turned to me, her smile instantly vanishing. “Clara, what is the meaning of this? You’re marrying my son, and you’re not even wearing a wedding dress?”
I tried to explain, but Julia viciously pinched me from behind. The pain made me almost stumble. Mrs. Thorne’s expression grew even more severe. “You’re just pregnant, aren’t you? Are you really so delicate? When I was pregnant with Andy, I wasn’t nearly this fragile!”
Julia echoed triumphantly, “Exactly. An upstart from nowhere, acting like some pampered princess.”
It was true, I had been pampered growing up, but it was due to my health. As a premature baby, my parents showered me with endless care. After they passed, Julian was equally devoted. If I hadn’t fallen for Andy, I would never have had to endure such hardship. I clutched my lower abdomen. The rapid succession of shocks left me feeling disoriented. Coupled with the recent pain, my stomach was now subtly aching.
Andy frowned, glancing at me. He supported me, but his voice was laced with sarcasm. “If you’re not feeling well, stay out of the way. Why try to be strong? You were so demanding just now, and yet you still need Julia to stand in for you during the toasts?” Seeing me silent, head bowed, he let out an impatient “Tsk,” clearly bored. He turned away, ignoring me.
I watched as he, arm-in-arm with Julia, toasted his parents, then went around, toasting each guest. Everyone seemed to have accepted Julia as the true bride of the ceremony. Cheers of “May Andy and Julia enjoy a hundred years of happiness!” and “May you soon be blessed with children!” rang out continuously. Andy thanked each person, never once correcting them.
Finally, the wedding concluded. Everyone had eaten and drunk their fill and were preparing to disperse. Mrs. Thorne forcefully dragged me to the door, making me stand with her to see the guests off. I stood there, feeling utterly disgraced, enduring the strange, pitying glances of the departing guests.
Then Andy approached, carrying a drunken Julia in his arms. “Mother, Clara, Julia’s had too much. Give me the car keys, I’ll take her home first.”
Mrs. Thorne looked at the mumbling Julia with tenderness, then chided him, “Home? Where would she go? Julia needs a good rest! And you needn’t bother taking her. Isn’t there a large room upstairs? Let Julia sleep there!”
I froze, then cried out, anxious, “Mother, that’s Andy and my bridal suite…”
Mrs. Thorne cut me off, displeased. “What’s wrong with the bridal suite?! It’s settled!”
I pleaded with my eyes towards Andy. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face, but ultimately, he agreed. Mrs. Thorne shot me a dismissive look, then joined Mr. Thorne downstairs to rest.
I stared blankly towards the master bedroom on the second floor. Andy had carried Julia in a while ago, but he hadn’t reappeared. My heart ached with a bitter pang. I tried to console myself, to believe in Andy. It wasn’t until my vision blurred that I realized I was weeping.
Shadows fell, and I found myself encircled by a group of men.
“Hey, Clara, why are you crying? Aren’t you happy you’re married?” The man who spoke was Marcus, the one among Andy’s groomsmen who targeted me the most. Simply because Julia disliked me, he took pleasure in tormenting me, eager to curry favor with her. Seeing that Andy was taking an unusually long time to come downstairs, Marcus’s expression soured. With a retaliatory smirk, he filled a glass to the brim and forcefully pressed it to my lips. “As your brother-in-law, I’m toasting you, sister-in-law. You can’t refuse me, can you?”
I was shaking with rage. “Don’t you know I’m pregnant?” I asked, my voice trembling.
Marcus scoffed, deliberately raising his voice. “So what if you’re pregnant? Besides, who knows whose baby that is in your belly?”
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “392844”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
Four years ago, my birth parents, in their misguided devotion to the boy they believed was their true son, cast me out of the Sterling Manor. After leaving, I moved abroad, where I painstakingly built my own empire from the ground up.
Just this year, I sold my company for a staggering sum—billions in assets—and returned to Coastal City, settling back into my adoptive parents’ old house. As I was making plans to renovate the aging property, the very ‘son’ who had replaced me, Miles Sterling, tracked me down.
“Do you honestly think I’d be here if Mom and Dad didn’t want to see you?” he scoffed, his voice laced with disdain. “You should be begging me. Without my permission, you’ll never set foot back in the Sterling family again! Now, I’m giving you a chance: come back with me.”
1
I looked at Miles Sterling, his head held high in haughty arrogance, and simply shook my head. “No, thank you. I’m doing quite well on my own,” I replied, my voice even. When it came to Miles, I honestly couldn’t be bothered to argue. As for the Sterling family, I had even less interest. Everything they had, everything they represented, held no appeal for me anymore.
“Ethan, I’m giving you an opportunity here!” Miles retorted, his tone chilling. “Otherwise, you’ll be stuck in this backwater forever, tilling the soil for the rest of your life!” He saw my lack of reaction and simply reiterated, cold as ice, “Ethan, this is your chance! Just get down on your knees and beg me, and you can come back to the Sterling family!”
I merely shook my head, my gaze unwavering. “Miles, I have no interest in the Sterling family. You can leave now.” My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. The Sterling family, in my eyes, was nothing. Yet, these people persisted in holding their heads so absurdly high.
Miles, hearing my blunt refusal, exploded. “Ethan, I’m giving you a chance! Don’t you realize that ever since you left, our family’s business has boomed? The company is practically ready to go public!” He gloated, a triumphant smirk on his face. “If it weren’t for me, how could the Sterlings have grown so big? I’m here out of pity, giving you a lifeline. Don’t be ungrateful!”
He prattled on, his words grating on my nerves. I found Miles utterly insufferable. With a decisive push, I ushered him out of my house. “Miles, I’m not interested in the Sterling family. Please, leave.”
My words undoubtedly stung him. He spun around, his face flushed. “Ethan, Mom and Dad want to see you! Come with me, now!”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I simply closed the door on him. I was long past caring about the Sterling family. So, I ignored Miles entirely.
But I hadn’t anticipated that my refusal would lead to Richard and Eleanor Sterling themselves showing up at my doorstep. Eleanor, my birth mother, wept dramatically when she saw me.
“My child, you’ve suffered so much these past years,” she sobbed, reaching for my hand. “Come home with Mom.”
I gently pulled my hand away, shaking my head. “Mrs. Sterling, have you forgotten? It was you and Mr. Sterling who threw me out of this family, all those years ago.”
My words caused both Richard and Eleanor to flinch, an awkward silence descending upon them. Richard, my birth father, glared at me, indignant. “We took you in back then, but you were so wayward, always clashing with Miles! Why else would we have sent you away?”
I listened to Richard’s self-righteous tone and shook my head. They would never, ever believe they were in the wrong. And besides, when had I ever truly clashed with Miles?
2
Years ago, when Richard and Eleanor brought me home, I truly believed I had found my birth parents, that a wonderful new life awaited me. What I found instead was darkness. The very day I arrived at Sterling Manor, Richard and Eleanor made it clear they considered me, a country boy, utterly unfit for their family. They barely fed me, often leaving me meager scraps to eat alone. They constantly compared me to Miles. I studied tirelessly, desperate for them to see my efforts, to earn their approval. But back then, Richard and Eleanor had eyes only for Miles.
Once, Miles had an accidental fall, and they somehow managed to blame me for it. Miles claimed I had pushed him down the stairs. In a fit of blinding rage, Richard brutally beat me senseless, then threw me out of Sterling Manor. For four long years, they never once inquired about my well-being, never cared if I lived or died. And now, they had the gall to show up, asking me to return to the Sterling family?
At that moment, looking at the elderly couple before me, my eyes held nothing but cold indifference. The day they beat me within an inch of my life and cast me out, the only thing left between us was a bitter, festering hatred.
“Mr. Sterling, if you weren’t willing to acknowledge me as your son then, why would you even consider bringing me back now?” I asked Richard, my voice frigid. I had no idea what their true intentions were. But knowing the Sterlings as I did, their sudden desire for my return certainly wasn’t out of simple goodwill. They might even want to harm me. The thought solidified the coldness in my gaze.
Richard looked at me. “Miles said you were struggling too much out there, so he asked us to bring you home!” he said, pointing at me. “You should learn from Miles; he’s so good. You pushed him down the stairs back then, and he still forgave you and wants you back in the Sterling family!”
“Mr. Sterling, I assure you, I’m not struggling,” I stated, my voice devoid of warmth. “And I have no need to return to the Sterling family.”
“Brother, stop pretending!” Miles burst out, tears welling in his eyes, his voice choked with sobs. “I’ve seen you so many times, working under the table, even begging on your knees for bosses to give you a job!”
Miles’s words made Richard’s face fall. Richard valued his reputation above all else, and the thought of his son begging for work was an unbearable humiliation. “Typical. A child raised in the sticks, without a shred of pride, kneeling before others!” Richard sneered, his face etched with disgust. “If you didn’t have my blood in your veins, I would have thrown you out long ago!”
I shook my head. Not only have I never knelt for anyone, but I haven’t even been in this city for years. How could Miles have seen me? He was just trying to provoke me, to disgust me.
“Miles, you claim I knelt for a job. Tell me, where did I kneel?” I demanded, my gaze sweeping over his face.
Miles’s face still feigned hurt. “Brother, stop trying to act tough! Look at how you live! This house is drafty, the walls are practically crumbling. You’d be much better off coming back to the Sterling Manor with us!” he said, gesturing at the old house. I glanced at my adoptive parents’ home. It was indeed on the verge of collapse from years of neglect. I had come here today to hire a construction crew to renovate it, only to find three people with serious issues on my doorstep instead.
3
“Ethan, come, let Mom take you home. Don’t worry, as long as you treat Miles well, we won’t make things difficult for you!” Eleanor cooed, gently pulling my hand. Her words, though, only made me want to laugh. These two were truly delusional. They’d rather cast aside their own flesh and blood for a boy who had swapped lives with their son. At this point, I was beyond exasperated with their entire family.
“Brother, come back with us! I’ll make you a branch manager!” Miles chimed in, grasping my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything! You won’t have to worry about finding work anymore!” Miles looked remarkably sincere, so much so that even Richard and Eleanor seemed touched by his apparent goodwill.
But as I looked at Miles, my brow furrowed. There was a glint of triumph in his eyes, and an almost indiscernible urgency. I said nothing. At this point, I was more curious to see what game the Sterlings were playing.
I followed them back to Sterling Manor. I was certain their sudden change of heart masked some underlying scheme. Why else would they, after all these years of never bothering to check on me—never even knowing I’d lived abroad—suddenly want me back?
The very day I returned, Richard unceremoniously tossed me into the utility room. “This room is small, but it’s still better than your dilapidated shack,” he sneered. “You’ll stay here for now. Don’t think that just because you’re back, you’ll be treated like a Sterling heir. Only when you’ve truly proven yourself will I consider accepting you.”
I looked at Richard, letting out a weary sigh. Perhaps I had incurred his wrath in a past life. Why else would he treat his own son this way? I couldn’t even begin to comprehend the twisted logic of the Sterling family. I simply lay down and fell asleep. After a day of such commotion, I was utterly exhausted.
When I woke, it was already evening, and my stomach growled with hunger. The Sterlings were at dinner. The moment I stepped out of the room, Richard slammed his hand on the table, bellowing, “Ethan, what are you doing out here? You’re ruining my appetite! Get back to your room! I’ll have someone bring you a tray later.” He looked at me, his eyes cold.
At that moment, I let out a humourless laugh. “Mr. Sterling, did you bring me back to Sterling Manor just to torment me?” I asked, my voice cutting, my gaze fixed on him.
Richard flinched, a flicker of awkwardness crossing his face. But quickly, his eyes hardened with chilling indifference. “This is to temper your spirit, to teach you that the Sterlings have rules too! Until I formally acknowledge you, you won’t sit at this table!” He looked at me, his voice sharp. “Otherwise, get out of Sterling Manor!”
I nodded slowly. “I never planned on returning to Sterling Manor in the first place! You dragged me back here!” I said, then turned, walked back into the room, grabbed my bag, and prepared to leave.
Seeing me about to walk out, Eleanor rushed forward and grabbed my arm. “Ethan, your father is just testing you! Don’t you want our family to be whole again? Hurry, be a good boy and go back to your room!” She tried to push me back inside.
I shook my head. “Mrs. Sterling, I have no interest in such ‘tests.’ And I have no interest in the Sterling family.” With that, I prepared to leave.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “392862”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
