Category: English

1 I hired the most popular guy on campus to be my boyfriend. When Brian took my money, he frowned and gave me a strict warning. “I just really need the cash. Don’t go catching real feelings for me.” I knew he didn’t like me. But I was so starved for affection that I just needed someone to pretend. I needed someone to act like they loved me. That was until his childhood best friend hunted me down and confronted me in front of a massive crowd. “Kitty, you can’t force love,” Sienna said, her voice dripping with fake pity. “Brian only has me in his heart.” She smirked, stepping closer. “You probably didn’t even know this, but all that money you gave him? He used it to buy me gifts.” A wave of mocking laughter echoed from the students gathered around us. Instead of crying, I started laughing too. I turned away from them and addressed the entire crowd. “I am officially taking applications for my next boyfriend. The salary is fifteen thousand dollars a month. There is only one requirement.” I paused, letting my eyes sweep over the stunned faces. “You have to be a good actor. Don’t break character and ruin the illusion for me.” The moment the words left my mouth, the entire courtyard went dead silent. Brian, who had been standing protectively in front of Sienna, instantly lost the color in his face. He stepped forward, his voice tight with panic. “Kitty, stop being so unreasonable! We both got what we wanted out of this arrangement. Sienna didn’t even say anything wrong.” He clenched his jaw, trying to regain the upper hand. “Do you really think throwing a tantrum is going to make me bow down and apologize to you? I’m not going to scold Sienna for telling the truth.” Sienna took her cue perfectly. She leaned out from behind him, her eyes turning red and her voice trembling with manufactured grievance. “Kitty, I know you come from a lot of money, but you can’t just humiliate people like this. Acting this way is only going to make Brian hate you more.” Hearing their little duet, the crowd started snickering again, this time much louder. “I knew it. There is no way Kitty doesn’t care.” “Seriously, everyone knows she’s been obsessed with him since the first day of freshman year.” “Brian has it rough. Having to put up with a spoiled heiress just to take care of Sienna.” Listening to the whispers of the crowd, the panic on Brian’s face faded, replaced by a sickening look of superiority. He looked down at me, using a tone that sounded like he was handing out charity. “Kitty, apologize to Sienna right now. If you don’t, I am completely done playing this game with you.” I let out a soft scoff. He was done playing? Perfect. I had been wanting to end this incredibly boring arrangement for weeks. Lately, Brian’s acting skills had taken a massive nosedive. The affection in his eyes was so sloppy and halfhearted that it totally ruined the fantasy. I was paying top dollar for the premium girlfriend experience, not to watch a distracted amateur slack off on the job. While Brian was busy issuing his arrogant ultimatums, my gaze was already wandering through the crowd, scouting for a replacement. Finally, my eyes landed on a guy standing near the back. He had a clean, refined aura and strikingly handsome features. I raised my hand and pointed right at him. “You’ll do.” I locked eyes with him. “You. Do you want to be my next boyfriend?” The guy blinked in surprise, pointing a long finger at his own chest. “Me?” Before he could even give me an answer, Brian’s furious voice cracked like a whip across the courtyard. “Kitty! You are crossing the line!” He took a step toward me, his fists clenched. “If you keep acting crazy like this, don’t blame me when I actually cut ties with you!” He was still using a breakup as a threat, acting as if losing him was some kind of devastating punishment. His sheer delusion almost made me laugh out loud. I genuinely wondered where he got the confidence to think I was helplessly in love with him. Was it just because of his slightly above average face? If I hadn’t wanted to experience a normal, sweet college romance, a lucrative, zero effort job like this would have never fallen into his lap. My parents had a standard corporate marriage. For as long as I could remember, they lived entirely separate lives. When I was little, I didn’t understand. I used to cry and throw tantrums, desperately wanting a warm, normal family. I vividly remembered asking my father about it one night. “Dad, why can’t you and Mom just stay home with me? You had me, doesn’t that mean you love each other?” My father had been in a rush to attend a birthday party for one of his illegitimate children, but he still paused, crouching down to look me in the eye. “Kitty, my marriage to your mother was simply a highly successful business transaction.” He patted my head. “Love is just a fragile, invisible concept. As long as you have enough money, you can buy as much of it as you want. Only power and profit are eternal. Look at me and your mother. We have plenty of other children out in the world, but none of them will ever threaten your position as the sole heir. Do you understand?” From that day on, his words became my absolute truth. Love could be bought. So, the second I got to college, I couldn’t wait to test the theory. I wanted to know what love tasted like. I decided to buy myself a flawless, picture perfect campus romance. I only picked Brian because the entire student body had crowned him the hottest guy on campus. I am a Kensington. If I want something, I only take the absolute best. It was that simple. 2 I completely ignored Brian’s existence and kept my eyes fixed on the handsome guy at the back of the crowd. “Are you hesitating?” I asked smoothly. “Do you think the pay is too low? I can throw in an apartment right off campus.” I offered him a relaxed smile. “Don’t worry, it’s a completely legal gift. No strings attached, and I won’t take it back.” I had originally bought that apartment as a gift for my boyfriend anyway. Since the position had just opened up, the perks naturally rolled over to the new hire. I gestured for him to open his phone. While he was still looking at me in a daze, I transferred fifteen thousand dollars directly into his account with a few quick taps. As the crowd erupted into shocked gasps, I lifted my chin and looked at my new boyfriend. “Don’t forget to bring me breakfast tomorrow morning, babe.” I turned my head slightly, catching Brian in my peripheral vision. “And as for you, Brian. You’re fired.” Without giving Brian’s furious, pale face another glance, I turned on my heel and walked away from the toxic drama, heading straight back to my family’s estate. The next morning, the moment I stepped into my first lecture hall, I saw a tall, lean figure waiting patiently by my seat. It was Finn. My new boyfriend. He had already set up a steaming hot breakfast on my desk, complete with a gourmet iced coffee, the straw perfectly unwrapped. When he saw me walk in, he looked up, his lips curving into a warm, genuine smile. “Good morning, Kitty. I wasn’t entirely sure what you liked, so I got a little bit of everything.” Looking at his attentive, gentle demeanor, the lingering annoyance I felt from dealing with Brian vanished into thin air. This was exactly it. This was the premium service my money was supposed to buy. This was the sweet college romance I had been looking forward to. I took my seat, my mood instantly lifting. When I spoke, my voice was noticeably softer than usual. “The deed to the apartment has already been transferred to your name. Go check it out after classes today. If there is anything you don’t like, or if you need new furniture, just text me. I’ll have my team handle it.” Finn’s eyes visibly lit up. The expression on his face grew even more tender and devoted. “Kitty, you are way too good to me. I promise I will never let you down.” Seeing how effortlessly he slipped into the role, a tiny sliver of regret crossed my mind. If I had known my money could buy such high quality, immersive affection, why did I waste so much time hung up on Brian’s useless popularity? What a waste of time and energy. From that day on, Finn and I were practically glued to each other. He was gentle, considerate, and detail oriented. He memorized all my preferences and always looked at me with deep, unwavering devotion in public. He gave me exactly the kind of love I craved. In return, I was incredibly generous. I constantly showered him with expensive gifts. Money really does elevate a person. Finn, who used to have a slightly rough, struggling college student vibe, slowly transformed. He developed an aura of quiet luxury, becoming the new elite heartthrob on campus. Everyone was obsessed with him. Meanwhile, Brian and Sienna had initially been completely convinced I was just throwing a tantrum, waiting for me to lower my head and beg him to come back. But as the days dragged on, they had to watch Finn and me walk around campus arm in arm. They had to watch Finn’s status skyrocket while Brian’s reputation crumbled. It got worse when Finn started picking me up and dropping me off in the sleek sports car Brian had been drooling over for months. The jealousy in Brian’s eyes was so intense it looked like it was going to burn a hole through his skull. He thought all of it belonged to him. The car, the luxury lifestyle, the status. He felt like he had endured the humiliation of dating me to earn those things, only to have them snatched away by some random nobody. Finally, Brian couldn’t take it anymore. He dragged Sienna along and aggressively blocked my path outside the library. “Kitty, we need to talk.” 3 Seeing the hostility radiating off him, Finn instantly stepped in front of me, shielding me from view. “What do you think you’re doing with Kitty?” Finn demanded, his voice dropping an octave. Brian sneered. “Back off. Who the hell do you think you are? This is between me and her.” I reached out and intertwined my fingers with Finn’s. I didn’t even bother looking at Brian. I just smiled and said, “Finn is my boyfriend. There is nothing you can say that he can’t hear.” I tilted my head. “Besides, Brian, you and I don’t have a relationship anymore, do we?” “Kitty, how can you be so cruel?” Sienna cried out, playing her delicate little flower routine perfectly. She looked heartbreakingly fragile. I actually took a moment to study her performance. “He is just using you for your money! He’s not like Brian…” she whimpered. “Using me for my money? I don’t mind,” I interrupted, a playful tone in my voice. “Actually, if you’re interested, I’m currently looking for a sweet little sister to dote on. The salary and perks are exactly the same.” Sienna’s sobbing stopped instantly. The tears froze on her cheeks. She stared at me, her eyes wide with absolute shock. Seeing her brain short circuit was highly entertaining, so I decided to push a little further. “I’ve always wondered what it feels like to have siblings. Are you turning down the offer?” Sienna’s lips parted. A highly calculated, complicated look flashed through her eyes. But before she could even form a sentence, Brian lost his mind. “Kitty! Stop humiliating people right to their faces!” Brian was practically shaking with rage. “Sienna and I are the same. Our bond is pure! It can’t be tainted by your filthy money! Do you think everyone in the world is as greedy and pathetic as the guy standing next to you? Do you think everyone has a price?” He looked down at the girl beside him. “Right, Sienna?” Feeling the intense weight of Brian’s gaze, Sienna’s body went completely rigid. She guiltily avoided his eyes, forcing a shaky, stubborn tone. “R-right. Brian is right! Our connection is real. We can’t be bought!” She looked back at me, her voice pleading. “Kitty, please stop holding a grudge. Just make up with him! I don’t want to be the reason you two fall apart.” I lost interest entirely. I looked away from them and leaned affectionately against Finn’s arm. “If you don’t want the job, forget it. I can’t force it. I’ll just find someone who actually knows how to play the sweet sister role.” I gave Brian a flat look. “And as for making up? Brian, I think you forgot something. From day one, this was nothing but a priced transaction. The contract is terminated. There is no ‘making up’.” I squeezed Finn’s arm. “Besides, I am extremely satisfied with Finn. He is vastly more competent at being a boyfriend than you ever were. I have absolutely no plans to replace him.” I was tired of wasting my breath on them. I raised my hand. The security detail I had waiting nearby immediately closed in. Brian and Sienna’s faces drained of color. Staring at the massive, intimidating bodyguards, all the righteous words died in their throats. They had no choice but to turn around and walk away in bitter defeat. On the ride home, Finn seemed distracted. After a long, heavy silence, he looked at me, his eyes full of puppy dog vulnerability. “Kitty… are you going to replace me one day, the same way you replaced Brian?” I answered him casually, staring out the window. “Maybe. But right now, I’m very happy with your work.” Finn went quiet for a long time. Finally, as if he had made a massive decision, he spoke up again. “Kitty, I have a few really good friends. They’re all really good looking, and they take great care of themselves. Would you be interested in meeting them?” Now that actually caught me off guard. I stared at him for a solid minute. He started to look a little nervous under my gaze, but eventually, I let out a low laugh and nodded. Finn moved fast. He booked a private dining room at an exclusive restaurant and called in his friends. Just like he promised, they were all incredibly handsome. More importantly, they knew how to read the room. They were charming, sweet, and kept me laughing the entire night. My mood was so good I ended up showering all of them with gifts. When I finally got back to the estate, I was still riding the high of the evening. I leaned back on the velvet sofa, idly planning which one of them I should take out shopping tomorrow. Right at that moment, my head butler knocked gently on the doorframe. “Miss, my apologies for the interruption. There is a young woman named Sienna at the front gate. she claims to be your sister, and she is asking to see you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444416”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I tried to win over the male lead ten times. Ten times I failed, all because of his best friend, Carter. On my eleventh attempt, the male lead and I were finally married. All I had to do was get pregnant, have a child, and my mission would be complete. Then Carter showed up again. He told the male lead that my entire relationship was a calculated scheme. The male lead immediately moved out and hired a lawyer to draft divorce papers. That very night, I hired someone to kidnap the culprit. Carter knelt before me, his hands bound tightly behind his back. Even though he was covered in bruises, his eyes were still arrogant and condescending. I sneered, using the toe of my shoe to tilt his chin up, and then pressed my foot flat against his cheek. I’ve been terrified of you for ten lifetimes. This time, it’s your turn to be afraid of me. Even while kneeling on the floor, Carter kept his back ramrod straight. His custom shirt had been whipped into shreds, hanging off his shoulders in ragged strips. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. When I tilted his chin up with my shoe, his chest heaved violently, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “What’s with that look?” I sneered, stepping on his shoulder and shoving him backward. The old wooden floorboards creaked loudly. He hit the ground hard, completely defenseless. The next second, I stepped forward and pinned his abdomen with my foot. “Who gave you permission to look at me?” He stared straight into my eyes, his face completely expressionless, but the blatant mockery in his gaze was impossible to hide. I slid my foot down an inch, stopping just in time, and watched him with cruel amusement. “Stop!” That perpetually emotionless face finally cracked. His voice was tight, carrying a hint of barely concealed panic. “Stop~” I dragged out the syllable, acting innocent, and stepped down hard. “But you didn’t tell my foot to stop.” Carter’s face went rigid. His voice trembled, and his breathing grew heavy. “Let me go. I won’t press charges.” “Let you go?” I moved my foot and watched him instinctively curl in on himself. “Can you even walk out of here like this?” “How about I help you wash up before sending you out?” His eyes were bloodshot. His bound hands struggled fiercely behind his back. Before he could move his legs, I straddled his waist, pinning him down. “You have to take your clothes off to take a bath.” I tapped his designer belt buckle with my finger. “Tell me, should we take your pants off first,” I moved my hand up to the ruined buttons on his chest, “or your shirt?” His ragged panting slowed. His eyes grew hazy, as if his brain was short-circuiting. I let my guard down. I didn’t expect him to suddenly jerk his knees upward. I lost my balance and crashed hard onto the floor. Carter used the opportunity to shuffle toward the door, trying to lean against the wall to stand up. But I was faster. I grabbed the bucket of saltwater I had prepared and splashed it all over his open wounds. He didn’t even cry out in pain. He was a tough bastard. But so what? Watching Carter crawl on the ground like a drowned rat, I grabbed him by the hair and delivered a sharp chop to the back of his neck. He lost consciousness instantly. Dealing with a guy this massive was a nightmare. Tying him to the heavy iron bed frame took half my life. After making sure all the doors and windows of the abandoned warehouse were locked, I finally felt secure enough to drive away. Now, it was time to go win back my male lead. Carter and I were two parallel lines that should never have crossed. But for ten lifetimes, every time I was on the verge of finally winning over the male lead, my momentum would plummet—all because of Carter. The first time, Carter invited the male lead out to dinner. The male lead met his “destined” female lead and dumped me. The second time, I drove the male lead to Carter’s place. On the way back, I got into a horrific car crash and died on the spot. The third time, before I even managed to establish a relationship with the male lead, I accidentally offended Carter. He had me shipped overseas to do grueling manual labor. The following attempts all failed because of him too. And no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t avoid him. Carter was the exact type of person I feared most. Old money, gorgeous looks, and incredibly ruthless. The scariest part was that he had zero weaknesses and couldn’t be threatened. Whenever the male lead was around him, he turned into a loyal lapdog. If Carter said walk a straight line, he would never dare to turn around. During my fifth attempt, the male lead took me to meet Carter. Carter looked at me like I was radioactive trash. He explicitly warned the male lead not to bring random strays into their circle. I knew he looked down on me, so I avoided him like the plague. I never went anywhere near him. I never expected that this time, after Hudson and I were already legally married, Carter would demand Hudson divorce me. And Hudson, stupid as a rock, actually believed the so-called “dossier of evidence” Carter provided. He accused me of having ulterior motives and brought in a lawyer to negotiate my exit. I admit, winning him over was my system-assigned mission, but my love for him wasn’t fake. In every single attempt, I only had eyes for him. For him, I racked my brains to orchestrate the perfect “accidental” first meeting. I worked tirelessly to mold myself into his exact ideal type. I never wore the same date outfit twice. I even did his group projects for him in college. After all that suffering, now that we were finally together, he wanted a divorce? No way. My informant told me Hudson was currently at our penthouse packing his bags. I didn’t waste a single second and drove straight home. “Hudson, what do I have to do to make you believe my feelings are real?” Opening the door and seeing Hudson walking out with his suitcase, I threw my arms around his waist, not caring about my pride. “Hazel, stop being immature.” He didn’t stroke my hair like he used to. His words were sharp, carrying a hint of warning. “You’re sentencing me to death just because of a few pieces of paper from Carter?” I buried my face in his chest. “I love you. Even if I schemed to meet you, it was only because I wanted to be with you.” “Hazel, when a relationship is built on calculation, it’s poisoned.” He mercilessly pried my fingers apart. “Also, I don’t like it when you talk about Carter that way.” Then he strode out the door. When he loved me, he was so afraid I’d be lonely that he’d stay on FaceTime with me while we slept. When he stopped loving me, he left me all alone in an empty, echoing house. It was all Carter’s fault! If it weren’t for Carter, I would have succeeded a long time ago. I checked the time on my phone. It had been three hours. Carter should be waking up right about now. Good thing I drove fast. Carter had already managed to free one of his legs. I sneered and slapped him hard across the face. “You broke my bed.” Carter really did have delicate, expensive skin. Half of his face swelled up immediately. I grabbed his leg, tied it back to the iron post, and viciously slapped the other side of his face. “Now it’s symmetrical.” He was like a brick wall, refusing to utter a single syllable. “Speak,” I demanded, squatting by the bed. “Doesn’t it hurt?” I poked his bleeding lip. He still didn’t make a sound. “That’s fine.” I didn’t care. I leaned in closer, letting my dark hair brush against his ear, cheek, and neck. “Carter, you’re going to beg me.” He squeezed his eyes shut and refused to look at me. I shrugged, pulled up a chair, and sat next to him to play games on my phone. I also placed a decorative water-drip hourglass on the nightstand. I watched a movie on my phone for two hours. My back ached, so I stood up to stretch. I glanced at the man on the bed, who was resting with his eyes closed. I smiled. Let’s see how long you can last. Another movie, another two hours. The person on the bed was getting restless. Without the movie playing out loud, the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of the hourglass became agonizingly clear in the silent warehouse. Carter’s brow furrowed, and his breathing became erratic. I glanced at him again, the corners of my lips curling up into a smirk. Half an hour later, the expected voice sounded: “Hazel, let me go.” “What did you say?” I stood by the bed. “I couldn’t hear you.” “Let me go.” His body was already contorting against the ropes, but he couldn’t see how pathetic he looked. “Let you go to do what?” I asked again. “You know what.” The veins on his forehead bulged, and the sound of his hands struggling against the restraints grew violent. “I don’t know what you mean.” I continued playing dumb. “Hazel!” His voice grew more intense. “Let me go, and we’ll pretend none of this ever happened.” “Beg me.” I felt a sick thrill of excitement. “Hazel!” His arrogant calmness was entirely gone. He looked like a mindless, cornered beast. I watched his frantic state with cold eyes. He looked exactly like the way he had looked at me during my third attempt—like I was nothing but a disgusting insect. “Please.” He finally surrendered. “What did you say?” I asked. “Please.” He closed his eyes in ultimate defeat. I knew I shouldn’t push him too far over the edge. I smiled brightly. “Alright, I promise.” Then I turned around and started walking toward the door. “Hazel!” He panicked. “Why aren’t you untying me?” “Untying what?” I looked innocent. “You promised me.” “Yeah, I promised you.” I said nonchalantly. “What exactly did I promise you?” He froze, completely unsure of what to say. I laughed. “Since I promised… “I promise I won’t look. “Help yourself.” I originally only wanted to scare Carter. I didn’t expect his mental defenses to shatter so easily. He lay on the bed like a corpse, his breathing barely perceptible. When I changed his torn clothes earlier, he didn’t even put up a fight. “Carter?” I called his name. His eyes were vacant. He didn’t seem to hear me at all. “Should I untie you?” I asked again. He still stared blankly at the ceiling, his eyes devoid of life. Oh my god, did I break his brain? I untied one of his hands. He didn’t react, so I untied the other. His legs were still bound, so I wasn’t afraid of him attacking me. But he just lay there on the bed, completely motionless. I started to panic. My first instinct was to run. As long as I was alive, I could try again. Worst case, I’d just restart the route and wipe my memory. I still had chances. I didn’t even bother locking the doors or windows. I drove away as fast as I could. When I got home, I packed my bags, bought the earliest flight out of New York, and settled down in a remote border town in Montana. For a whole month, absolutely nothing happened, except for Hudson calling me constantly to demand we finalize the divorce papers. I contacted my informant, asking if there was any major news in the city recently. My informant sent me a question mark. Before I could hint further, the informant sent another message saying the only big news was that the Vance family was pouring billions into overseas investments, and the head of the family was personally moving to Europe to oversee it. The head of the Vance family—wasn’t that Carter? It seemed he hadn’t lost his mind. I breathed a massive sigh of relief, but then my heart leaped into my throat again—he was definitely going to hunt me down to settle the score. The System urged me to speed up my progress. The progress bar had been stagnant for a month. It also delivered some devastating news: if I didn’t succeed on this attempt, my request to “return to the real world and resurrect my grandmother” would be permanently denied. I asked my informant how long Carter would be out of the country. The informant replied: a year at minimum, maybe three to five years. Without Carter in the way, I could finish Hudson’s romance route in six months tops. Once that was done, I’d negotiate with the System. By the time Carter got back to the US, I’d already be back in my original dimension. High risk, high reward. I immediately booked a flight back to New York to continue my mission. I never expected that the moment I stepped out of baggage claim, a group of men in suits would grab me. And the man who was supposedly “in Europe” was now sitting right in front of me in a private lounge. Except this time, the person kneeling on the floor… was me. His subordinates all left the room, leaving just me and Carter in the massive, dimly lit space. He toyed with a silver Zippo lighter in his hand. The flame flickered out, then flared up, then flickered out again, perfectly mimicking my erratic heart rate. Then I thought about it—he’s just a fictional character in a novel. What’s there to be afraid of? My fear vanished instantly. I raised my chin and glared up at him, a faint, mocking smirk playing on my lips. “What are you smiling at?” He stopped spinning the lighter, looking at me with a mix of confusion and a hint of dark madness. “Who gave you permission to sit?” I demanded. In an instant, his chest rose and fell rapidly, and a loud, nervous gulp echoed in his throat. “Kneel,” I commanded. The next second, Carter dropped to his knees on the rug like a programmed robot. His face flushed a deep crimson, and he was trembling like a leaf. I wasn’t completely clueless about what was happening, but I still felt like I was crossing a very dangerous, bizarre line. “Untie me,” I continued. His eyes grew icy, flashing with pain and a hint of intense reluctance. “Be good,” I said, my voice dropping to a seductive whisper. With just a few words, our positions were swapped once again. I was ecstatic. Hudson was Carter’s most loyal follower. If Carter was now obedient to me, completing Hudson’s romance route would be a piece of cake. Stroking Carter’s soft black hair as he knelt before me, I slapped him across the face twice without hesitation. “Who gave you permission to tie me up?” He suddenly acted like a wronged Golden Retriever, grabbing my hand, wanting to blow on my palm to soothe it. I immediately yanked it away. “Don’t touch me.” He knelt there, completely at a loss for what to do. His lips opened and closed for a long time before he finally whispered, “I didn’t tell them to tie you up.” “Carter.” I leaned in close. He visibly brightened, a faint, eager blush spreading across his cheeks. “I don’t like it when you talk back.” His face paled, and he lowered his head, staying perfectly silent. “I don’t like it when you’re silent, either,” I added. Hearing this, Carter’s head snapped up. Tears were actually welling in his beautiful eyes. “Don’t dislike me.” “Then you need to be good.” I gently touched his swollen cheek. “Does it hurt, Carter?” He took the opportunity to grab my hand again, but let it go the second my eyes narrowed in warning. “No.” I knew how to play the game—a slap followed by a piece of candy. “But it hurts me to see it.” “Don’t be hurt.” He struggled, unsure of what to call me. I touched his cheek again. “Call me Hazel.” He shyly lowered his head, then quickly looked back up. Like a kid who had just stolen a taste of honey, his eyes were full of undeniable, desperate joy. “Hazel.” “Good boy.” I took his hand. “What do you want for a reward?” “Can Hazel kiss me?” He squeezed his eyes shut nervously, his long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. I gave him a quick, dismissive peck on the forehead, not missing the flicker of deep disappointment in his eyes. “Hazel, don’t go.” I stood up, preparing to leave. My main mission today was to find Hudson. I had already wasted way too much time here. Carter was anxious, but I didn’t let him get up. He had to stay kneeling. “Count to one hundred and eighty, then you can get up.” Looking at his desperate, pleading eyes, I smiled. “I like it when you listen to me, Carter.” The System told me that Hudson would meet the “destined” female lead—who was working part-time as a waitress—at a charity gala tonight, playing out a classic “hero saves the beauty” trope. I had to step in and save her before he did, severing their romantic connection before it even started. Sure enough, when I arrived, the female lead was already surrounded by a group of sleazy trust-fund kids. Luckily, no one else had noticed yet. I marched over, gave the brats a harsh scolding, and then comforted the female lead. I lied and told her that her college dorm RA was doing a surprise room check, urging her to hurry back to campus. She had always been a stellar, obedient student, so she believed me completely. But she was worried about leaving her shift unattended. Right on cue, a waitress I had hired in advance appeared to take over. The female lead successfully left the gala. With that baggage handled, I scanned the room for Hudson, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. At 8:00 PM sharp, Hudson appeared. Though he wasn’t as terrifyingly powerful as Carter, he was still a highly sought-after young CEO. People lined up to hand him their business cards. I seized the opportunity and stepped right in front of him. I hadn’t seen him in a month. A wave of grievance washed over me, and my nose stung. After attempting this route so many times, my feelings for him couldn’t be explained in just a few words. When things were good between us, I had genuinely planned to give him a child before I left his world forever. The crowd tactfully dispersed, leaving Hudson and me face-to-face. “Why didn’t you come looking for me?” I pouted, throwing a tantrum like I always used to, waiting for him to coax me. “I tried calling you.” His voice was distant and cold. “Now that you’re back, let’s finalize the paperwork. The cooling-off period for the divorce is over.” “Hudson, you weren’t like this before.” I held my hand up in front of him. The wedding ring on my ring finger sparkled under the chandeliers. “Did you forget what you promised me?” Hudson had custom-made that wedding ring, inlaying it with a circle of crushed diamonds. Back then, I told him the crushed diamonds were too flashy, and that a single stone or a plain band would be fine. But Hudson had looked at me and said that setting every single diamond was like kissing my eyes. “Don’t forget to give the ring back to my lawyers.” His eyes were completely dead, as if he was discussing a mundane business transaction. “Hudson, look me in the eyes.” I grabbed the lapels of his suit. “I don’t believe you feel absolutely nothing for me anymore.” “You know me.” He gently but firmly removed my hands. “I’ve always hated deception.” “What are you two doing?” Carter’s voice suddenly rang in my ears like a death knell. Staring at the culprit who ruined my life every single time, I shook with anger. Hudson took the chance to push me away. I tried to chase after him, but Carter grabbed my arm. “Hazel, didn’t you two get divorced?” I slapped him across the face. The entire banquet hall fell dead silent. “No,” I said, enunciating every syllable. He didn’t even get mad. He just pulled me tightly into his arms. I struggled furiously but couldn’t break free. He practically carried me out of the venue. In the backseat of his Maybach, Carter held my hand, asking if it hurt. “Are you sick in the head?” I couldn’t help but curse at him. “If Hazel says I’m sick, then I’m sick.” He didn’t care at all. He brought my palm to his lips and gently blew on it. His warm breath gathered in my palm. I instinctively curled my hand into a fist, but Carter pried my fingers open one by one, refusing to let go. When we got to his penthouse, he took his shirt off and handed me a leather riding crop. “If Hazel is unhappy, you can hit me.” I lashed his back twice, but seeing the twisted mix of restraint and pleasure on his face, I was so disgusted I threw the crop across the room immediately. “Is Hazel feeling better?” he asked softly. “No,” I said. “Then what will make you feel better?” Carter asked. “Bring Hudson to me.” I blurted out. Carter lowered his head and fell dead silent. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I mocked him. “I’m going home.” “If Hazel wants to see him, I’ll bring him to you.” He put his shirt back on. Before he left, he gave me a deep, lingering look, his eyes hiding emotions I couldn’t decipher. What kind of look was that? It seemed mostly lonely, but overflowing with a kind of devastating, pathetic sadness. “Hazel, you rest here.” He gently closed the door. “I’ll go.” The next morning, just as Carter promised, Hudson appeared before me. Like a happy little bird, I sat down next to him on the sofa. “Hudson! You came to see me?” “I came for your signature,” he said coldly. “The divorce papers.” “Hudson, do you really have to talk to me like this?” My heart, which had been so full of hope, felt like it had been dumped in a bucket of ice water. “I told you, I just want to be with you.” “Do you really want to humiliate me like this?” Like a wounded animal, I slumped back into the cushions, my eyes heavy with unbearable disappointment. Right at that moment, the System’s robotic voice echoed in my head: [Correction, correction. Capture target error.] I snapped my head up, only to hear the System continue: [Capture target error. Downloading patch… Updating automatically… New mission generated: Redeem Carter.] [The mission is much easier now! Carter already loves you,] the System babbled excitedly. [All you have to do is fall in love with him.] [Hurry up and complete the mission. Your grandmother is still waiting for you to resurrect her in the real world.] The sudden mission change hit me like a ton of bricks. I had tangled with Hudson for ten agonizing lifetimes, and now you tell me to change targets?! Fury burned in my chest like a raging inferno. I looked at Hudson, who looked half-dead and completely checked out. “Hudson, let me tell you something. Plenty of guys like me. If you don’t care about me, I won’t waste my time bothering you anymore.” I jumped off the sofa. “Get out. Get as far away from me as possible.” “I was actually worried you’d be lonely! I actually wanted to have your kids! “Hudson, you don’t deserve me!” Tears betrayed me and spilled down my face. What did I do wrong to be treated like a plaything? The System had found me and told me that as long as I married Hudson and had a child with him, it would resurrect my grandmother. Ten times. Ten lifespans. Let alone a person, if you poured your heart and soul into a lifeless rock ten times, it would be impossible to just let go. What gave the System the right to easily say “change targets”? What gave them the right to erase all my past efforts, all my pain, with a simple software patch? “Sign it.” Hudson handed me the divorce papers. “You’ve already moved into Carter’s house. Sign it now so it doesn’t get in the way of you and him.” I wiped the tears from my face, took the pen, and neatly signed my name. He took the papers and walked away without looking back. “Hudson.” I couldn’t stop myself from calling out to him. “There’s no future for us anymore.” He didn’t turn around. His steps only grew faster. I stared at his retreating back, my vision blurring with tears. He turned and grabbed my hand, complaining, “Hazel, if you walk any slower, we’ll miss the fireworks.” “But Hudson, I can’t walk anymore. Will you carry me on your back?” “I can never say no to you. Hurry up and hop on. I told you those heels were bad for walking…” When my vision finally cleared, I was alone in this massive house again. There was only the heavy mahogany door. No more Hudson. Carter was incredibly happy when he walked in. His eyes sparkled, looking at me like a clear spring of water. Thinking about the new mission the System gave me, I initiated the conversation. “Carter, why are you so happy?” He pulled me onto his lap and buried his face in my chest. “Hazel, we can finally be together.” “Weren’t we already together?” I asked him. “Hazel, I’m going to treat you so well.” Afraid I wouldn’t believe him, he placed my hand over his heart. Beneath my palm, his heart was beating wildly. The man in front of me was overflowing with love. [Hurry up and tell him you love him too! Give him a little sugar, don’t let the plot stall here!] the System urged. Remembering my mission, I forced myself to nod at Carter. But that night, I had nightmares. I dreamed of Carter’s disdainful glares. I dreamed of him shipping me out of the country. I dreamed of everything he had done to me in my past lives. Not a single memory was associated with happiness; every single one was wrapped in terror and humiliation. I struggled awake from the dream, saw his terrified, anxious eyes staring down at me, and fainted from sheer panic. When I woke up again, it was noon. The sunlight stung my eyes. “Hazel, you’re awake.” Carter, who was lying next to me, pulled me into his arms. “You were having a nightmare.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444432”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Axel wanted a promotion to the headquarters, so he asked me to temporarily take over his work. When I refused, he made my life a living hell. Five consecutive months of non-stop overtime not only drained every ounce of my energy but also torpedoed my relationship. I’d had enough. During a meeting, I sent a message to my best friend: “I seriously don’t know how someone can be so fake.” After realizing I’d sent it to the wrong person, I saw his face darken. My brain short-circuited, and on a whim, I added another line. “But why can’t he just fake having me in his heart?” … I woke up in the company infirmary. The smell of antiseptic mixed with the clean, sandalwood scent of Axel’s cologne filled my nose. I snapped my eyes open and met his deep, unreadable gaze. He was sitting by the bed, his suit jacket perfectly pressed, but the eyes behind his glasses were analytical. “You’re awake?” His voice was low, devoid of emotion. The memory of those two career-suicide messages flooded back. I remembered his shocked expression and the gossipy faces of my colleagues turning to stare at me in unison. In a panic, I had tried to stand up, but a wave of hypoglycemia hit, and everything went black. I shot up, my mind racing. “Mr. Vaughan, I… I was…” I was possessed by a demon, my head was caught in a door, my brain was struck by lightning! “Was it the truth?” he interrupted, his calm tone sending a chill down my spine. The truth? The truth that I was calling him a fake, or the truth that I wanted him to have me in his heart? Both were a death sentence. Was I really going to admit that my stupid mouth was just used to trading cringey jokes with my best friend? My mouth opened, but no words came out. Finally, I buried my face in my knees and played dead. “Daisy,” he said my name, his voice quiet but overwhelmingly intense. “Is there something you want to say to me?” I jerked my head up, forcing a smile that was uglier than a grimace. “Mr. Vaughan, I just admire you so much. I got a little carried away and said some nonsense. Please don’t take it seriously!” He didn’t speak, just watched me. His gaze felt like it could pierce through my skull and see every thought. Just as I was about to faint again from the pressure, he finally spoke. “Get some rest.” With that, he stood up, straightened a non-existent wrinkle on his cuff, and left the infirmary. I let out a long breath, my body slumping back onto the bed. I survived. I thought the incident would blow over like a passing breeze. But I had severely underestimated the speed and power of office gossip. The next day, when I walked into the office with dark circles under my eyes, I was greeted by suggestive looks from every direction. “Daisy, you’ve been holding out on us!” “Yeah, you’re always so quiet. We never knew you had it in you to go after the ‘Ice King’!” “So, spill! What’s the latest? Did he say yes?” My colleagues surrounded my desk, their faces all screaming “Tell us everything!” I had no defense, so I just laughed nervously. “It’s a misunderstanding. A huge misunderstanding.” No one believed me. My best friend, Maya, sent me a message: “You’re famous. I heard you confessed your love to Axel in front of everyone, and he didn’t say no?” I was on the verge of tears. “I sent the message to the wrong person! It was meant for you.” Maya: “Then how do you explain the second message? ‘But why can’t he just fake having me in his heart?’ Daisy, has all that overtime melted your brain?” Me: “…My fingers were faster than my brain!” No one believed me, not even myself. What was even more terrifying was Axel’s behavior. He never asked me to work overtime again. Once, as the workday was ending, he even walked over to my desk and tapped it. “If you’re done, you can head home early.” The entire office immediately shot me “I-ship-it” looks. I froze, watching him walk away. This was unbearable. For a whole week, I enjoyed the divine treatment of a nine-to-five schedule with full weekends. The price was becoming the center of attention for the entire company. Everyone looked at me like I was the future boss’s wife. Even the cafeteria lady added an extra spoonful of sugar to my coffee, smiling and saying, “A little extra sweetness, Daisy. Romance takes a lot of energy.” I was going crazy. That night, I tossed and turned in bed, my mind filled with Axel’s emotionless face and my colleagues’ knowing smiles. I couldn’t just let this happen. I had to get revenge for those five months of overtime. I had to vent the frustration from my breakup. I leaped out of bed and opened up Yelp. 2 In the search bar, I viciously typed two words: “Hit man.” The page refreshed, showing a bunch of listings for “MMA Sparring Partner” and “Boxing Experience.” I randomly clicked on one. The profile picture was a delivery guy in a helmet. I got straight to the point: “Hi, I’m looking for someone to beat up my boss. Male, about 6’1″, looks pretty built.” The reply was instantaneous: “…” I added: “Money is not an issue.” A few seconds later, a long voice message came through. I played it, and an overly positive male voice filled the air. “Ma’am, everything is tracked these days. Hiring someone to assault another person is a serious crime. You’ll go to jail! It’s not worth throwing your life away over some boss.” “Take my advice, there are plenty of fish in the sea. Quit your job, start a new life! Look on the bright side!” Me: “…” What a kind-hearted delivery guy. I quietly closed the app. Violence was not the answer. But his words gave me an idea. If Axel was so afraid of a romantic scandal, then I would make the scandal a reality! He wanted that promotion to headquarters, right? At a critical time like this, the last thing he needed was a messy entanglement with a subordinate. If I played the part of the “admirer” foolishly and loudly enough for everyone to know, he would have to avoid me to protect his reputation. Then, forget giving me a hard time, he probably wouldn’t even want to be in the same room as me. I was a genius! A perfect revenge plan began to form in my mind. Step one was to make my “crush” even more public. I needed a platform. So I went to the anonymous section of the company’s internal forum and created a post. Title: “Help! How do I win over the handsome, cold director of my department?” I wrote the post with heartfelt sincerity, portraying myself as a humble employee, madly in love and willing to do anything. To add a touch of authenticity, I subtly mentioned a few of Axel’s habits that only people in our department would know, like how he only drank pour-over black coffee and tapped his knuckles on the table during meetings. The post blew up instantly. “The OP is Daisy from the planning department, right? Grabbing my popcorn!” “Whoa, is this the hero who confessed her feelings in public? I salute you!” “A guy like Mr. Vaughan is a tough nut to crack. Good luck, OP!” Watching the replies pour in, I smiled with satisfaction. Now that I had the hype, it was time for action. Netizens flocked to give me advice. The top-voted comment was: “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach! Make him a lunchbox!” Good idea. The next day, I woke up early and spent two hours in the kitchen, producing a lunchbox that looked… abstract. I tried to shape the rice into a heart, but it ended up as an unidentifiable lump. The broccoli was overcooked and yellowed. The only protein was pan-seared chicken breast, which was burnt to a crisp. I stared at my creation in silence. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts. I was afraid that if I made it too well, he might actually fall for me. My goal was to gross him out, after all. I packed the lunchbox and took it to work. During lunch, while Axel was in a meeting, I sneaked over and placed the lunchbox on his desk, complete with a sticky note adorned with a giant heart. After my covert operation, I scurried back to my seat. I waited for him to return, see the “lovingly-prepared” lunch, and then toss it in the trash with a look of disgust. However, when he came back, he just glanced at the lunchbox calmly, picked it up, and walked into his private office. The entire afternoon, there was no sign of movement. I was on pins and needles, constantly looking at his closed door. Did he eat it? No way. Even a dog would turn its nose up at that. 3 As the workday was ending, the door to Axel’s office finally opened. He walked out, holding the now-empty lunchbox. He came straight to my desk and placed the sparkling clean container on it. “Thank you,” he said, looking at me, his tone as neutral as ever. “It was good. A little salty, though.” I was completely dumbfounded. Not only did he eat it, he washed the container and even gave me feedback? This wasn’t how the script was supposed to go! He was supposed to hate foolish people. Every tiny mistake I made at work in the past was met with public humiliation and a look that screamed “idiot.” Wasn’t he supposed to be avoiding me like the plague? My colleagues started whispering again, the flames of gossip in their eyes burning brighter than ever. “Oh my god, he actually ate her lunch!” “And he washed the box! What kind of tsundere trope is this?!” “That’s it, they’re endgame! I’m shipping them so hard!” I could feel my face burning, not from embarrassment, but from rage. Axel! What are you playing at?! Step one of my plan was a spectacular failure. Undeterred, I went home and scrolled through the forum thread again. The second most popular suggestion: “Create a ‘chance’ encounter! Make him think you’re destined to be together!” Fine. A chance encounter. I found out from a colleague that Axel had a habit of jogging at night, usually around 8 PM at the riverside park near the office. The next evening at 7:50, I showed up at the park entrance, dressed in full athletic gear. I pretended to stretch while scanning the area. At 8:10, a tall figure came jogging from a distance. It was him! I immediately controlled my breathing, adopted my most graceful running form, and ran towards him. When I was about ten feet away, I “tripped” and fell gracefully towards him. According to my plan, he would instinctively dodge, and I would fall spectacularly in front of him, playing the victim and making him see me as a clumsy nuisance. But to my surprise, not only did he not dodge, he reached out and caught me firmly in his arms. My face slammed into his hard chest, nearly breaking my nose. A strong, masculine scent mixed with sweat enveloped me. “Are you okay?” His voice came from above my head, slightly breathless from the run. It sounded… kind of sexy. I pushed him away abruptly, clutching my nose and taking a few steps back. “I-I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Thor—” “Call me Axel.” He cut me off. I froze. He looked at me, his eyes shining brighter than the stars in the night sky. “We’re outside the office. No need to be so formal.” My heart skipped a beat. The plan had failed again. Not only had I failed to make him hate me, but I had also somehow gotten him to let me use his first name. I went home dejected and buried my face in the sofa cushions. Maya called. “How’s it going, my hero? What drama did you stage today?” I told her about the “chance” encounter at the park, and she laughed so hard she could barely breathe. “Daisy, oh, Daisy. Are you sure you’re trying to get revenge on him and not just reenacting a rom-com?” “First the lunchbox, now the fake fall. What’s next? You’re going to get sick in the rain so he can take you to the hospital?” Her words left me speechless. “Let me tell you, a guy like Axel is a total enigma. The more you pursue him, the more he’ll find you interesting. You’re playing with fire.” “Then what should I do?” I asked desperately. “Nothing you can do now,” Maya said, gloating. “Unless you want to march up to him and tell him it was all an act and you actually can’t stand him.” I fell silent. I didn’t have the guts. I was afraid that the moment I did, he would happily reintroduce me to the joys of five consecutive months of overtime. After hanging up, I opened the forum thread again. It had over a thousand replies, the enthusiasm of the netizens far exceeding my expectations. The latest top-voted comment proposed a new strategy, one that was getting a ton of likes. I braced myself, read it, and was left utterly speechless.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444417”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day after my divorce was finalized and the assets were divided, I got into a car accident and woke up with amnesia. Later, my ex-husband, Liam, tracked me down. He told me that if I stopped acting crazy every day, he would consider remarrying me. I froze, biting down on my ice cream spoon. After a long pause, I finally spoke: “Yeah… no thanks! I… I… I’m actually perfectly fine just keeping the money.” 1 When I woke up, the first thing I saw was my best friend, Chloe, looking incredibly distressed. She told me not to be sad. She said my health was the most important thing, and even though I was divorced, I still had to live my life. She told me the kids would be fine living with Liam, and there was no point in fighting for custody because I wouldn’t win anyway. I just stared at her. After a long time, I couldn’t help but ask, “Who is Liam?” Chloe froze, a look of utter bewilderment on her face. A moment later, she snapped out of it and ran to get the doctor. The doctor said the trauma from the car crash had given me amnesia. Chloe hurriedly asked me how old I thought I was. I thought about it for a second. “I’m eighteen! Didn’t I just graduate high school yesterday?” Chloe burst into laughter. She squatted on the floor, laughing so hard she was clutching her stomach and punching my hospital bed. “Oh my god, Maya, you are… your amnesia is fantastic! Yes, you’re eighteen. Eighteen is amazing! There’s no Liam, no kids… just you and me…” I was even more confused. 2 Chloe took me home to her apartment once the doctors confirmed my memory wasn’t coming back anytime soon. Only then did she give me a brief rundown of my current situation. I am Maya Lin. During my freshman year of college, I fell in love with a broke guy named Liam Sterling. I dated Liam for ten years, from eighteen to twenty-eight. I stayed by his side while he built his startup, eating instant ramen and struggling together. I gave birth to his children, and I took care of his elderly parents. And then, this year, he dragged me to court and divorced me. “??? What?” I was absolutely shocked. What kind of tragic soap opera was my life? After a long pause, my voice trembled as I asked, “So, what you’re saying is, I acted as this guy’s unpaid servant for ten years, and at twenty-eight, I got kicked to the curb?” Chloe nodded. “Yes. You also have two kids. A son who’s six, and a daughter who’s four. But because you were a stay-at-home mom with no personal income, and both kids said they wanted to live with their dad, full custody was awarded to Liam.” “…What??? The two kids I busted my ass to raise are just gone…” Even though I didn’t remember any of this, it sounded absolutely horrifying. I was on the verge of tears. Then Chloe laughed and patted my shoulder. “Don’t be too sad. At least you have money.” Tears welling in my eyes, I tentatively asked, “How much?” Chloe sat up straight. “Maya, listen to me. You got 20% of Liam’s marital assets. That includes a 10% equity stake in three publicly traded companies, and two massive townhouses in Manhattan. It’s valued at roughly $260 million.” “…” Silence. Deep thought. Then, I cautiously asked, “Chloe, you aren’t messing with me, right?” “If I’m lying, I’m a dog.” That day, I stared out the window at the sky in a daze. I had lost ten years of memories. I had no idea how I had lived the past decade. But Chloe said I was rich. And when I was eighteen, the thing I loved most in the world was money. So I figured this wasn’t a bad deal at all. 3 Chloe took some time off work. For a few days, she dragged me around to various offices to finalize the transfer of assets. I didn’t see this Liam guy Chloe mentioned. He had outsourced all the asset division paperwork to his lawyers. We were busy for almost a month. After that, Chloe helped me list all the properties under my name for rent. She did the math for me. The monthly rental income alone would be around $160,000. That day, I stared at the endless string of zeros in my bank account. Then I looked up at the mirror. Staring back at me was twenty-eight-year-old me, looking incredibly polished and well-groomed. I scratched my head. Not bad at all. 4 I had nothing to do all day, but Chloe had to work. So I just stayed at her apartment and played video games. When Chloe ordered lunch for delivery, she always ordered a portion for me too. She worked late. When she finally got home, she looked like a zombie, collapsing onto the sofa completely dead to the world. I put down my controller and massaged her shoulders. Must have been muscle memory, because I gave a fantastic massage. Once Chloe recovered some energy, she started venting: “Liam is a literal monster. You started working for him for free the second you graduated. His mom was in poor health, so after you got off work, you had to massage her shoulders and rub her back.” “…” As she talked, Chloe got angry, grabbed my arm, and flicked my forehead. “Maya, you were so spineless! Whenever I wasn’t around, you just let them walk all over you! That whole family bullied you because they knew you didn’t have anyone else who cared about you.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a little wronged. “But I don’t remember any of that! I only remember you.” Chloe stopped mid-rant, then laughed. “That’s true! You don’t remember, and it’s better that you don’t. As long as you remember me, that’s enough. I won’t bully you.” I believed her, because Chloe and I grew up together. We were both raised in the foster care system. When I was little, I followed Chloe everywhere. She fought for my snacks and washed my clothes. When we got older, she tutored me. She was a year older than me. When I was a senior in high school, she was a freshman in college, and she called me every single day to make sure I was studying. She wanted me to test into her university, but her scores were ridiculously high. I studied myself half to death, but I still didn’t have the grades to get into an Ivy League. The day the scores came out, I hugged Chloe and bawled my eyes out. Chloe flicked my forehead. “What are you crying for? You scored in the top five percent. That’s amazing. Why are you crying?” She patted my head. “You did great.” Later, I went to a university in Chicago, still crying about it. 5 Whenever Chloe brought it up, she was full of regret. She said she never should have let me go to Chicago. “If you hadn’t gone to Chicago, you wouldn’t have met Liam. And if you hadn’t met Liam…” I interrupted her eagerly. “Then I wouldn’t have $260 million!” Chloe put her hands on her hips. “What’s more important, the money, or the last ten years of your life?” I tried to guess the correct answer. “The money?” Chloe looked at me like I was a lost cause. “You! You are more important. If you’re miserable, all the money in the world is useless. Thank God you got amnesia. Otherwise, if you got depressed and did something stupid, what good would the money be?” “Umm… it could buy me a really nice mausoleum…” Chloe laughed out of pure exasperation. “Get out!” “…” Chloe had always been a powerhouse, and she still was. She was the General Manager of a multinational corporation, pulling in around $55,000 a month. But she was incredibly busy, sometimes traveling for work, and she was constantly worried about leaving me alone. So she started dragging me along on her business trips. Eventually, she figured that since she was bringing me everywhere anyway, she might as well not pay for it out of her own pocket. So she hired me at her company to be her executive assistant. I was thrilled! I had spent the last few months reading dozens of romance novels about billionaire CEOs falling in love with their cute assistants. On my first day, I confidently marched into the office wearing a sleek pencil skirt and blazer. I made her coffee, organized her files, and ran around doing errands. I looked like I was working incredibly hard. Eventually, she found it hilarious, told me to stop running around, and handed me a spreadsheet. “Have Ava show you how to do this. Take your time, there’s no rush.” “You got it, boss!” And just like that, I officially started working. 6 I went to work with Chloe and left with Chloe. I didn’t have much to do, so my tasks were usually finished early. Chloe, on the other hand, had a mountain of work. I would always wait for her in the breakroom. One day, she saw me sitting there watching online lectures on my phone. She suddenly realized something and asked me seriously, “Maya, do you want to go back to school?” “…I do.” Since I had amnesia, I didn’t know how to do a lot of office work. I was basically starting from zero, and every time I messed up, I felt pretty useless. When we were kids, Chloe was my role model, and she still was. I wanted to be like her—handling everything effortlessly. It was so cool. So Chloe enrolled me in classes. Every day after work, I would drive to a continuing education center. I took systematic project management courses, sprinkled with training on various enterprise software. I filled two entire notebooks before things finally started clicking. Oh, so that’s how it works. Once I finished those, Chloe signed me up for corporate accounting classes. I studied for a year, and I had a total epiphany. So that’s what all this means. Work started becoming a breeze. 7 After I had been working for a year, Chloe started having me shadow Ava on project negotiations. Ava was three years younger than me. She was a Project Manager, and her personality was amazing. She spoke very gently, and she took great care of me. One time, after a meeting, she went downstairs to buy herself a coffee and bought me an ice cream. I happily scooped up my ice cream, and Ava laughed. “Chloe told me you’re twenty-nine, but I swear I never believe it. Maya, you act like a kid! Like a really hardworking, obedient kid.” I thought about it for a second, then solemnly informed her, “I actually have two kids.” “Stop messing with me. We’ve worked together for over a year, and I’ve never even seen your husband.” “We’re divorced.” “Girl, you literally look like a teenager.” “Mhm… well, technically I’m a divorcée.” Ava was completely bewildered. She didn’t believe me, and I laughed, because honestly, I didn’t really believe it either. In my head, I had just finished high school. How could I be twenty-nine? But I had been eating well and living stress-free for two years, so I really did look young for my age. When I first got divorced, I apparently looked terrible and exhausted. But I guess millions of dollars is the best skincare routine. Right after I got out of the hospital, Chloe dragged me to all sorts of dermatologists and spas. She also said I was too weak and signed me up for MMA classes. As an eighteen-year-old in my mind, whatever Chloe said was gospel. If she said go east, I would never go west. If she said MMA, I wasn’t going to sign up for Taekwondo. We hired a private chef to make nutritious meals, and the healthier I ate, the better I looked. Since I had amnesia, I had zero emotional baggage. I had infinite money, didn’t need to work, and could eat and sleep as much as I wanted. Over those few months, even my hair got noticeably thicker. Honestly, the past year and a half had been incredible. I completely forgot the messy, miserable ten years I supposedly lived. My eighteen-year-old brain was a clean slate, soaking up new knowledge without any pressure, and Chloe was always behind me, supporting and guiding me. But I guess the universe couldn’t stand seeing me so comfortable. One day, while I was with Ava at a client’s office building, I ran into a guy. 8 Ava’s meeting that day was highly confidential, so I wasn’t allowed in. She left me in the lobby coffee shop to eat ice cream and read a book. Halfway through my book, I felt someone staring at me. I looked up and saw a man in a tailored suit, his brow tightly furrowed. He just kept staring at me. I froze. I felt like I recognized him, but I couldn’t put a name to the face. Later, when Ava came down from her meeting, I grabbed the coffee I had bought for her and walked over to meet her. As I brushed past the man, I heard him say, “Are we pretending not to know each other now?” The comment lacked any context. I gave him a weird look, ignored it, and walked out the door with the coffee. But the man followed us out. “Maya Lin, can’t even say hello when we run into each other?” I turned around, and Ava turned around with me. Ava saw the man and smiled politely. “Mr. Sterling! It’s been a while.” Liam ignored Ava completely, keeping his eyes locked on me. I looked at the guy. Mr. Sterling? Could this be… Liam? I whispered to Ava, “Is he Liam Sterling?” “Yeah! The CEO of Sterling Group. You know him?” “…Yeah, I think he’s my… ex-husband…” Ava was completely stunned. She looked at me, then at Liam, then back at me. Liam glared at me. I thought about it for a second, then held out my hand. “Hi.” Liam didn’t shake it. He looked at me, his eyes filled with contempt and mockery. “Maya, I underestimated you. I actually thought you were a good mother! In court, you fought so hard for Oliver and Lily, but the second you got your payout, you never came to see them once… Thank God the kids weren’t given to you. Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be a mother.” A sudden, inexplicable wave of grief washed over my heart. But once the sadness faded, I racked my brain and still couldn’t remember what Oliver and Lily looked like. “Maya, you better come visit this weekend. Otherwise, don’t even think about seeing Oliver and Lily for the rest of your life.” Liam walked away, leaving a deeply confused Ava and a very thoughtful me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444433”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My eighteenth attempt at a wedding with my fiancé, and once again, my adoptive sister stole everyone away. My parents called, their voices a mixture of anxiety and impatience. “Molly’s stomach is acting up again. We’re taking her to the hospital. You handle the wedding. It’s been canceled so many times, you’re an old pro at this.” My maid of honor, my best friend since childhood, just clicked her tongue. “Is your wedding really more important than Molly’s health? She was in so much pain she almost passed out, and you expect us to just ignore her? When did you become so cruel, Kara?” And my fiancé? He didn’t even bother to call. Just a text with five words: Wedding’s off. We’ll reschedule. We’ll reschedule. I repeated those words to myself over and over. He’d used those same five words to dismiss me seventeen times before. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I was so done with this. “System.” “Sever my ties with all of them.” A familiar voice replied, “As you wish. All connections between you and the other characters have been severed.” “Countdown initiated. In 72 hours, they will lose everything they possess. Including their lives.” 1 As the system’s countdown began, I picked up the microphone and walked onto the stage, a sea of violet—Molly’s favorite flower. How fitting for my wedding. “I apologize, everyone. Today’s wedding is canceled.” The guests exchanged glances, but no one seemed surprised. “I knew it,” one woman whispered. “They’ve never managed to actually go through with one. If I were Kara Fairley, I’d be too embarrassed to even show my face.” “The whole family dotes on the younger one. If I were her, I’d just let my sister have him. At least she’d get a reputation for being generous instead of being the laughingstock of the city.” “You don’t get it,” another chimed in. “This one’s not to be messed with. Every time Mr. Vance refused her, his company’s stock would tank the next day. He lost millions before he finally agreed to stay with her.” I walked away under a cloud of pitying stares, a sarcastic smile playing on my lips. This time, it was going to be more than just a stock dip. I changed out of my wedding dress and went back to the Fairley mansion to pack a few things. As I was about to leave, the front door opened, and the whole laughing, smiling group walked in, gathered around Molly. The moment they saw me, the smiles vanished. Liam Vance’s eyes flashed with anger. “Kara, if you were going to cancel the wedding, why didn’t you explain it properly? Now everyone is going to assume it was because of Molly again.” My father’s voice was a sharp command. “Kara, your handling of this was abysmal. In the past, you’ve managed the PR for these cancellations flawlessly. You’ve disappointed me. Go and release a statement immediately. Say it was because of your own selfish whim.” My best friend, Chloe, whipped out her phone. “I’ll have my agent contact the media. If Kara posts a statement now, we can still control the narrative. We’ll hire some online trolls to attack her, and no one will suspect Molly…” I didn’t respond to their accusations. I just watched the countdown timer in my mind. Two days and eighteen hours. Then, they would be finished. “Kara, are you deaf? Let me be clear. If you don’t fix this, I can’t promise you when the next wedding will be.” Liam stepped in front of me, his voice dripping with impatience. Finally, Molly spoke, her voice soft and frail. “It’s all my fault. I ruined your wedding, Kara. I’m so sorry.” “There are still other good days this month. You two shouldn’t postpone it any longer…” She broke off, coughing weakly. Liam rushed to her side, rubbing her back. “It’s not your fault, don’t even think that. Your sister will never leave me. It doesn’t matter when we get married.” “You’ve got that wrong,” I said, my voice cold. It was the first thing I had said. They all stared at me, stunned. I held up my duffel bag. “I’m leaving.” The words had barely left my mouth when a sharp crack echoed through the living room. 2 I turned my head to the side, a bitter laugh escaping me. My mother’s hand was still trembling with rage. “How dare you cause a scene?! We’ve spoiled you rotten all these years, and this is what you’ve become? So selfish and arrogant?” “And you’re leaving? Where will you go? Are you trying to make this a city-wide scandal, to make everyone think we favor Molly, that we’re cruel to you? Kara, when will you ever learn to be considerate? How could I have a daughter like you? You’re not even half the woman Molly is!” The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I licked my lips. Yes, in the past, I would have thrown a fit. Because I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why, when Molly was the one who broke our father’s priceless antique, they blamed me. I didn’t understand why, even with security footage, they refused to believe I hadn’t pushed Molly down the stairs. Even buying flowers that triggered Molly’s allergies was seen as a deliberate act of cruelty. This wasn’t the first time my mother had hit me. The last time was just two days ago. Because I refused to let Molly wear my wedding dress. And then, she fainted. My mother shoved me, then took a pair of scissors and shredded the custom-made gown I had waited six months for. For Molly, my mother and I were practically at war. So, yes, I would cause a scene. I would make everyone see the injustice. But this time, I was done fighting. I am the Chosen One in this world. All the other characters can only gain their power and luck by being connected to me. The day after I was born, the nearly bankrupt Fairley Corporation suddenly struck gold, becoming the wealthiest family in the city. My father’s stage-two liver cancer miraculously vanished. My best friend, Chloe, grew more beautiful with each passing year of our friendship, eventually achieving her dream of becoming an award-winning actress, a superstar. As for Liam… He was a street vendor, hawking counterfeit goods. Chased by police, beaten by competitors. Until he saved me when I got lost in a night market. I fell for him instantly. From that day on, he founded his own brand, and every business venture he touched turned to gold, until the Vance Corporation was listed on the stock exchange. For over twenty years, they had all cherished me. Liam, especially, treated me like the most precious thing in the world. And through me, they all got everything they ever wanted. But then, Molly was brought into our family. And everything changed. My father’s voice was cold. “Someone, take her things. She’s not taking a single thing from this house with her.” “Kara, you can leave. But this time, no one is coming to coax you back. If you walk out that door, we will hold a press conference and disown you. You will no longer be our daughter!” They threw me out without so much as a change of clothes. Liam sighed and discreetly handed me a key. “You can stay at this apartment. Kara, we’re tired. We can’t keep playing these games with you.” “I wish the person I had saved that night was Molly.” I scoffed. “You can marry her now, then.” Liam sighed again, a weary sound. “There you go again. Kara, you know I promised to marry you. I won’t go back on my word.” “Molly is a sweet, innocent girl. I won’t have you speak of her so casually, as if she’s some kind of toy. Don’t let me hear you say that again.” He turned and walked back up the steps. I threw the key on the ground and was about to leave when Molly rushed out, grabbing my sleeve. “Don’t go, sister! I shouldn’t have wished for a life that wasn’t mine! I don’t deserve it!” “Don’t go. I’m the one who should leave. I’ll leave the Fairley family right now…” I knew what she was doing. So I just stood there, letting her cling to me and put on her show. But when I didn’t push her away like I usually did, she suddenly gasped for air and collapsed at my feet. “Molly!” “Call Dr. Chen! Molly, my daughter!” They all rushed over, surrounding her. Liam’s eyes were blazing as he grabbed me by the throat. “Kara, you dare to touch Molly again? Do you really think I won’t hurt you?!” I almost laughed. It was truly absurd. I hadn’t even touched her. And yet, here I was, the attacker. “Liam, I hope you all don’t regret this.” “Someone!” my father roared, pointing at me. “Lock her in the basement! It’s time for some family discipline!” 3 The damp, dark basement. This was my second time here. The first was still fresh in my memory. It was because I found Molly sneaking into Liam’s room in the middle of the night. I caught her red-handed, right there on his bed. But she cried and claimed she was sleepwalking, a result of some past trauma. She didn’t know why she had ended up in Liam’s room. She just said it felt… safe. She hadn’t meant to do it. My parents and Liam bought her story completely. Liam even told her, gently, that if she was ever scared, she could come to him anytime. At the time, I was more in love with Liam than ever. I wouldn’t even tolerate a female assistant near him. The entire executive floor was a no-woman’s-land. So I had slapped Molly across the face. And my parents had locked me in this basement. For seven days, with only a bowl of thin porridge each day. They only let me out when I was so weak from hunger that I agreed to apologize to Molly. This time, it was clear they had more in mind than just starving me. When my father came down with a rattan cane, Liam was with him. “According to the Fairley family rules, you should receive thirty lashes. But Molly feels sorry for you. She knelt and begged me to use the cane instead. The cane is not as severe as the whip, so you will receive fifty strokes.” Crack! The cane struck my back, and a red welt immediately rose on my skin. My father hit me a dozen times. The welts turned into open wounds. Each subsequent blow was a searing, agonizing pain. I remembered them saying Molly had begged for the cane. It must have been soaked in chili water. “Apologize to your sister!” “Are you going to apologize or not?!” My father grew more enraged with each unanswered demand. After fifty strokes, my entire back and arms were a mess of lacerations. The skin was torn and bleeding, trickles of blood running down my spine and pooling on the floor. I was numb with pain. I huddled in the corner, gasping for breath. My father threw the cane down and left. “Stubborn girl!” he spat as he walked out. Liam walked over and knelt beside me. “Molly prepared this medicine and these clothes for you. Kara, Molly has always been respectful to you. As her older sister, and as her future brother-in-law, we should take care of her. Why are you so petty? Why do you always assume the worst of her?” “When you’ve thought it through, apologize. Don’t make us angry again.” He shook out the clothes Molly had “prepared” for me. And thoughtfully draped them over my back. The moment the fabric touched my open wounds, it felt like I had been plunged into a vat of salt water. I curled into a ball, shaking with pain. “So dramatic. Molly is in agony every time she has one of her episodes, and she never makes a scene like you do.” Liam clicked his tongue and stood up, then left. It took me a long moment to catch my breath. “System…” “Host, would you like me to activate your pain shield?” “No. I want to accelerate the severance.” “Understood. Acceleration initiated. At noon tomorrow, all characters will experience the full backlash.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444418”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

To make sure my daughter got a decent meal, I took a massive risk and snuck her into the company’s annual banquet. I never expected the big boss to decide to “dine with the commoners” and sit at our exact table. My daughter blinked her big, innocent eyes at the CEO. The CEO looked back at her. She turned her head, called me “Mommy,” and then stared incredibly seriously at the CEO. “This is Mommy. Why aren’t you calling her Mommy?” 1 Instantly, every single eye at the table was glued to me and the CEO. I frantically slapped my hand over her mouth, laughing awkwardly. “Kids say the darnedest things! So silly!” Penny yanked my hand away and pointed innocently at my two coworkers. “Auntie Maya and Uncle Leo call you Mommy too!” Maya and Leo were our newest interns. I noticed they were always eating sad desk salads or ordering takeout, so I invited them over for dinner a few times. The two of them had been so overwhelmed with gratitude that they tearfully started calling me “Mommy.” I scooped Penny up in my arms and bolted. “Excuse us, she needs the restroom!” Penny struggled, trying to speak, but she was no match for my panicked adrenaline. I hauled her away. “Penelope, what did you promise me before we left the house?” I stood her against the wall, making her put her hands flat against her sides. I used my most serious Mom Voice. “Only eat, no talking,” she pouted, her lower lip sticking out as she immediately tried to act cute. “I’m sorry, Mommy! But I’m so hungry.” “When we go back, absolutely no talking!” I lightly tugged on her earlobe, and she dramatically winced and nodded. I had hoped the big boss would have moved to another table by the time we got back, but he was still sitting there. Seeing me return, my coworkers immediately tried to smooth things over, telling me the food was getting cold and urging me to eat. I was eating and keeping an eye on Penny when a piece of sweet and sour rib suddenly appeared on her plate. Before I could say thank you, Penny shrieked, “You didn’t use the serving chopsticks! That’s unsanitary!” Everyone’s heads snapped over, catching sight of the CEO’s chopsticks before he even had a chance to pull them back. Then, in perfect unison, everyone slammed their heads back down, pretending they had never looked up in the first place. The CEO coughed twice, picked the rib back up, grabbed the communal serving chopsticks, and placed a fresh piece on Penny’s plate. The little girl nodded in satisfaction. Then, using her own chopsticks, she dropped a piece of beef onto Liam Sterling’s plate. “Courtesy demands reciprocity.” It was like the two of them had initiated a localized automated protocol. They just kept going back and forth, serving each other food. I was incredibly embarrassed, but I also used the distraction to eat my weight in crab legs. I was very satisfied. Halfway through the banquet, Liam had to leave for another engagement. The moment he walked away, everyone at the table exhaled a massive sigh of relief. “Chloe, I swear my food wasn’t digesting while he was sitting here,” Leo groaned, watching Liam’s retreating back. “Me neither,” Maya quickly agreed. “I was too scared to even chew.” I looked over at little Penny, who was happily munching on a shrimp, and couldn’t help but give her a thumbs-up. 2 It was very late by the time we got home. Penny had run wild all day, so she crashed the second her head hit the pillow. I took a shower, crawled into bed, and my phone lit up. I opened my texts and saw a two-word message from a specific contact: [Come over.] After double-checking that Penny was dead asleep, I went next door. Before I even had a chance to scan my fingerprint, the door swung open from the inside. A pair of strong, muscular arms pulled me in and pinned me against the wall in the entryway. He gripped my waist, gently rubbing his nose against mine, and pecked my lips playfully. “Mommy?” My face turned burning red. “Kids don’t know what they’re saying.” He let out a low chuckle, raising an eyebrow as if considering the thought. “Well, she’s not entirely wrong.” Then he suddenly scooped me into his arms. By the time I opened my eyes again, it was 8:00 AM. I panicked, frantically throwing on my clothes, terrified that Penny would wake up and freak out when she couldn’t find me. Liam leaned back against the headboard. “I already had someone go over to your place.” “Who?” I asked. He frowned. “That kid you adopted at the office.” A second later, my phone rang. Maya’s voice came through the speaker: “Chloe! Penny is still asleep. Don’t worry about your business trip, I’ll watch her!” Knowing someone was with Penny, I let out a massive sigh of relief and slowed down my frantic dressing. Liam hugged me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Since you’re awake, let’s get some exercise.” Liam was flying out for a business trip at noon. Before he left for the airport, he had someone deliver a massive order of steamed pork ribs to my apartment. It was my absolute favorite dish, and also Penny’s favorite. The clock on the wall hit 6:00 PM. I brought the ribs home and called Penny and Maya to the table for dinner. Last night was a rare exception; Liam almost never let me stay the night. We kept our relationship perfectly hidden. He was the untouchable CEO; I was an invisible assistant in the secretarial pool. He was going to be gone for three months this time. I felt an unprecedented wave of relief. On the first of every month, he wired money to my account. This time, he sent six months’ worth upfront. I took that money and took Penny to the fancy buffet she had been begging to go to. Liam had never treated me poorly, but I knew the day would eventually come when he got bored of me. When that day arrived, I would take Penny and leave San Francisco to move back to my hometown in the Midwest. It wasn’t as glamorous as SF, but the schools were decent, and more importantly, I wouldn’t have to live in constant fear of being discovered. I was incredibly thankful that Penny looked exactly like me. There wasn’t a trace of Liam in her features. But as she got older, some of her little mannerisms were becoming terrifyingly similar to his. It was starting to make me anxious. 3 Getting pregnant with Penny was a complete accident. Six years ago, I was a brand-new hire. The senior executive assistant had to travel, so I was temporarily assigned to accompany Liam to meet a client. It turned out someone had slipped something into his drink. I had just graduated. My grandmother was critically ill and needed surgery we couldn’t afford. In a moment of absolute desperation, I gritted my teeth, got into his bed, and planned to use it to blackmail him for the surgery money. But before I even had the chance to demand the hush money, the hospital called. My grandmother was failing. I dragged my exhausted body to the hospital, but I was too late. I didn’t have a dime. I couldn’t even afford to decide where she would be buried. Eventually, my relatives scraped together enough money to buy a plot in a public cemetery back in our hometown. Three days later, I went back to the office. The senior assistant had heard about my grandmother and told me to just go with the flow and try to live in the present. I forced a smile and nodded, even though I had my resignation letter drafted and ready to send. After what I did, being fired was the best-case scenario. I could have gone to jail. But what I expected didn’t happen. Instead, the company transferred me to the Austin branch “for professional development.” I was terrified, asking around to find out why I was being shipped off. The senior assistant just smiled and told me it was a good opportunity and not to worry. It wasn’t until later that I found out the person who actually drugged Liam was the head of the Austin branch. That woman threatened to jump off the building if Liam didn’t marry her. Liam immediately called her parents. To apologize and sweep it under the rug, her parents handed over a massive piece of commercial real estate to Liam’s company. “She’s been obsessed with Mr. Sterling forever,” a coworker gossiped. “She’s the daughter of a family friend. She used to work here at HQ, but they transferred her to Austin.” “Did you know about her and Mr. Sterling?” The coworker winked at me and started spilling all the colorful details… I was shocked. Did another girl go into his room after I left? “Weren’t there security cameras?” I asked, pretending to be casually curious. “Please, the princess planned it perfectly. She had the hallway cameras shut off in advance. If Mr. Sterling hadn’t played hardball, we probably would have all been invited to their wedding by now,” another older coworker chimed in knowingly. I let out a long exhale. I could finally tear up my resignation letter. “You lucked out,” someone else joked. “The Austin branch is smaller, but there’s plenty of money to be made there.” I just smiled and didn’t say anything. Not long after I got to Austin, I realized I was pregnant. My first instinct was to get an abortion. But I was so desperate for family. So desperate for a companion. After agonizing over it, I decided to keep the baby. Looking back, I was actually incredibly lucky. Just a few days after I found out I was pregnant, another coworker was transferred from HQ to Austin. They ended up taking on a lot of my workload. By the time I was transferred back to HQ, Penny was already learning how to talk. Everyone at the main office was shocked that I came back with a toddler. I fabricated a tragic story about getting engaged in Austin, but my fiancé dying in a car crash. Everyone was so sympathetic, telling me that having a child meant having a piece of him to hold onto. I forced a bitter smile and agreed. As for Liam and me… he was the one who approached me. He said we were both adults with physical needs. Since I already had a child, he knew I wouldn’t cling to him with unrealistic expectations like the younger girls. He also offered to move me into a much nicer, more secure building, and give me a generous monthly allowance. I just stared at his eyes, completely dumbfounded. “Does Ms. Vance feel the compensation is too low?” he asked. It wasn’t just “not low.” It was more than enough for Penny and me to live very comfortably. “It’s not low,” I replied, giving an honest assessment. He let out a low chuckle. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you get the short end of the stick.” 4 Liam texted me saying he wanted home-cooked food. The moment I saw the message, a wave of intense irritation washed over me. I had promised to steam fish for Penny tonight. I couldn’t just drop everything and go to his place. He usually didn’t ask to see me the day he got back from a business trip. This sudden ambush really annoyed me. Not long after I sent a text rejecting him, the doorbell rang. Penny cheered and ran to the door, chanting, “Penny’s boba! Penny’s boba!” I didn’t want her opening the door alone, so I followed her. I was absolutely stunned to see Liam standing in my entryway, looking like he had just stepped off a plane. “Mommy, we don’t have shoes for him,” Penny frowned, looking up at me. I was so caught off guard by his sudden appearance that the only thing I could do was hand him Leo’s extra pair of guest slippers. “Those are Uncle Leo’s,” Penny pouted. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy will buy Uncle Leo new ones,” I said, crouching down to hold her little hands. Suddenly, I felt an intense, burning gaze sweeping over me. I looked down and realized I had completely forgotten I was only wearing a thin silk camisole. While I was standing there panicking, the doorbell rang again. Liam smoothly opened the door and took a beige insulated bag from the delivery driver. “Penny’s boba!” Penny shrieked happily, reaching up with both hands to grab the bag from Liam. Liam kicked off his shoes—pointedly avoiding Leo’s slippers—and walked into my living room in his socks, holding the bag in one hand and putting the other in his pocket. Penny followed right behind him like an eager little puppy. He slowly and methodically pulled the boba cup out, poked the straw through the lid, and gestured for Penny to hold the cup with both hands. The little girl’s eyes were glued to the boba. She obeyed his every command. When she finally got her hands on it, she took a massive gulp and let out a very satisfied sigh. “Mommy, can I drink my boba and play on my iPad?” Her eyes screamed, Please do not say no to me. I nodded, and she bolted toward her bedroom with the boba. Once her door clicked shut, I finally had a second to deal with Liam. For once, I didn’t call him “Mr. Sterling.” I said, “Liam, why are you at my house?” He casually grabbed the second cup of boba from the bag and took a sip. “Too sweet.” Then he walked over to the entryway and dragged his carry-on suitcase inside. “I want to take a shower.” He said it so casually, like it was his own house. I did something incredibly childish and tried to physically push him out the door. Instead, I ended up trapped in his arms. “Be a good girl. Raising a kid takes a lot of money.” Liam’s tone was light, but there wasn’t a trace of a smile in his eyes. “Doesn’t it?” His words hit me like a slap to the face, waking me up immediately. Just because he had been a little accommodating lately, I had completely forgotten that I held zero leverage in this dynamic. I was getting arrogant. “Good girl. I’m going to shower,” he said, releasing me with a slow, leisurely smile. With an extra adult in the house, I grabbed some more vegetables from the fridge. I kept chopping and prepping, but my mind was a million miles away. I had changed out of the silk cami into a standard, practical cotton pajama set. Suddenly, a pair of slightly damp arms wrapped around my waist, and wet hair tickled my ear. “I’ve never seen you wear pajamas like this,” Liam whispered in my ear. 5 To keep him happy, I always made sure to wear sexy lingerie or silk nightgowns around him. This was the first time I was letting him see the domestic, everyday version of me. “Mommy!” Penny’s voice was getting closer. Liam released me like he had been electrocuted, instantly putting distance between us. “Did you finish it?” I asked. “No.” Penny always dragged out her syllables when she talked. “Mommy said I could only have a little bit, so Penny only drank a little bit.” “You’re so good.” I wiped my hands on my apron and patted her little head. “Can you go look at your picture books for a little while? Dinner will be ready soon!” Now that the sugar rush was settling down, Penny suddenly became very interested in Liam. “Mommy, who is he?” I glanced at Liam, completely freezing up. “I’m your mommy’s coworker,” Liam said, crouching down to her eye level. “Do you know what a coworker is?” “I know! Like Uncle Leo and Auntie Maya!” Penny looked incredibly proud of herself, clearly waiting for a compliment. “Not exactly the same.” Liam was about to keep talking, but I quickly cut him off. “Penny, ask the nice man to read you a storybook!” The second I said it, I realized how impulsive it was. I looked at him nervously, and sure enough, his brow was slightly furrowed. I tried to backpedal immediately. “Mr. Sterling, if it’s too much trouble…” “Let’s go,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve read to my friends’ kids before.” I let out a long sigh of relief, but a sudden wave of sadness hit me. This was the first time Penny was ever spending time with her father. 6 After dinner, Liam dragged me back to his place. Even though we had been intimate countless times, being alone with him still made me incredibly nervous. “How old is your daughter?” he asked. “Four,” I lied, shaving a year off. “Was it a C-section?” Liam asked. My hand instinctively reached toward my C-section scar, but he beat me to it. My hand ended up covering his. Our hands had intertwined a million times before. Whenever passion overwhelmed us, I would cling to him like a lifeline, his palms always radiating intense heat. He flipped his hand over and gripped mine tightly. “Did it hurt?” I forced myself to stay calm, terrified of what he was getting at. Did he somehow know? “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. But since he’s gone, I wanted to have a piece of him left in this world.” I dragged out my fabricated dead fiancé to use as a shield. Liam squeezed my hand harder. “You two must have been very much in love.” I couldn’t read the emotion in his voice, but the crushing grip on my hand made it very clear he was not happy. “I don’t like talking about the past,” I said, pulling away from his embrace. “I have to go. I can’t leave Penny home alone.” He didn’t say anything. He just leaned back against the headboard. The warm yellow light from the lamp spilled over him. I couldn’t clearly see his face, but I knew he wasn’t going to ask me to stay. The first thing I did when I got home was check on Penny. I loved staring at her face while she slept. People always say daughters look like their fathers. I was terrified of seeing Liam’s reflection in her face. Thankfully, she still had her baby fat. Forget looking like anyone specific, she just looked like a generic toddler. If you tossed her into a room full of kids, I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to spot her right away. But tonight, seeing the two of them sitting next to each other at the dinner table… those subtle micro-expressions, the identical little habits… I closed my eyes, too scared to even think about it. Women are emotional creatures. Even though I had zero feelings for Liam when this started, things were different now. I felt like I was falling for him. I even had this insane, reckless urge to just tell him the truth—that Penny was his biological daughter. But then what? Would Liam even want her? And even if he did want Penny, would he want me? I stubbed out my cigarette, hid the pack back in its secret spot, and let the smoke drift out into the night air. I opened the balcony window, and the freezing wind slapped me in the face, waking me up completely. It was time to end this. 7 Some busybody posted the photos of Liam and Penny interacting at the banquet into the company group chat. [Do you guys think Chloe’s kid might actually be Mr. Sterling’s…] They didn’t finish the sentence, but… everyone knew exactly what they were implying. [No way. Chloe is way too plain. She’s not Mr. Sterling’s type at all.] [You guys need to stop gossiping. Chloe’s fiancé died in a car crash. The baby was born after he died.] An older coworker jumped in to defend me. [You guys need to watch your mouths. Little Penny already doesn’t have a dad, and now you’re making up disgusting rumors about her mom!] [Careful what you type…] More and more coworkers started taking my side. “These people are unbelievable,” Maya was even angrier than I was. “Penny looks nothing like the CEO.” “Penny is so adorable!” Leo huffed indignantly. “Mr. Sterling is nowhere near as likable as Penny.” The second the words left Leo’s mouth, Mr. Sterling coughed twice right behind him. There was a very important client standing next to him, desperately trying not to laugh. “Our CEO is a natural-born king,” Leo said without missing a beat, not breaking eye contact with his monitor. “We wouldn’t dare ‘like’ him. We only gaze upon him in awe from a distance.” Then, he turned around with a perfectly feigned look of surprise. “Oh! Mr. Sterling! You’re here!” Liam gave him a long, dark look before striding away. “I almost died,” Leo slumped against Maya’s desk. “How does the CEO walk without making a sound?” “Maya, can you please take this file to Mr. Sterling’s office for me?” Leo begged, looking at her with puppy dog eyes. “You’re scared? I’m scared too!” Maya shoved him away. “Get off me, stop trying to use me as a shield.” Leo turned his desperate, pleading eyes to me. With no other choice, I—the woman currently at the center of the company’s biggest scandal—had to step into the line of fire. “Liam, is that really your daughter?” “Do you actually believe that?” Before I even had a chance to knock, their conversation drifted out of the partially open door. “If she is, that’s great,” the client said. “Daughters are sweet.” “I don’t like kids,” Liam’s voice was freezing cold. “Especially fragile, whiny little girls. I can’t handle them.” I stood outside the door, the blood draining from my face. So he absolutely hated kids. Then why the hell did he read Penny a storybook? Forcing myself to stay calm, I knocked on the door. “Mr. Sterling, I have a contract that needs your signature.” “Come in.” He took the contract from my hands, signed it, and handed it back. “Ms. Vance.” “Do not bring your child to the office again. “Your salary is more than generous. You do not need to bring your child to company events just to get a free meal.” He handed me the signed contract without looking at me once. “I apologize, Mr. Sterling. It won’t happen again,” I said, keeping my face perfectly neutral, apologizing instantly. “Liam, you’re being too harsh,” the client chuckled. I shot the client a grateful look and quickly escaped that suffocating room.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444434”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 After the “real” daughter of the family snatched my fiancé, I decided I was done playing by the rules. I did the one thing I could: I got him into my bed, and then I ran. He may have been a rebellious disaster, but he was unfairly handsome. So I made a choice. I kept the premium-grade souvenir of our night together. Jax Walker was furious, swearing that when he found me, he’d make my life a living hell. I spent five years in hiding, my heart pounding every time I heard his name. Until one day, I went to pick up my son from school. A huge crowd was gathered at the gate, buzzing about a fight. My eyes lit up. I eagerly pushed my way through the crowd, ready for some good, old-fashioned drama. And there they were, in the open space by the school entrance, two figures locked in a clumsy brawl. The taller one wore a black trench coat, his back as straight and unyielding as a pine tree. His movements were sharp, efficient. The shorter one was in a primary school uniform, his little legs pumping like pistons. His fists were small, but every punch was aimed at a vital spot. I rubbed my eyes, staring at the two of them—one a carbon copy of the other, just shrunk down. My world tilted on its axis. What was wrong with these two? How could a father and son who had never met before just start throwing punches? … Jax turned his head, deftly dodging my son’s fist. The corner of his eye twitched upward in a look of lazy, arrogant amusement. That face. It was the kind of face that haunted my nightmares. I took a deep breath. And another. And one more for good measure. And to think, Noah told me he was a model student. From the look of his practiced fighting stance, he seemed more like a seasoned brawler. That left hook had some serious power, the angle was vicious, and he even knew how to feint before landing a punch. A circle of parents had formed around them. Some were filming with their phones, others were cheering them on. “Whose kid is that? He’s got some moves!” “Go for the big guy! You got this, kiddo!” I covered my face, wishing the ground would swallow me whole. Noah planted his hands on his hips, his little chin jutted out. “Mister, you’re blocking my way.” Jax glanced down at him and scoffed. “You own the sidewalk, pipsqueak?” “It’s not mine, but you’re blocking the school gate. My friends can’t get out.” A laugh escaped Jax’s lips, a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “Who the hell is your mother? Raising a little tyrant like you.” I winced. The kid had inherited my temper and Jax’s in equal, disastrous measure. Everyone who knew us knew that when Jax and I met, sparks flew. And someone usually ended up bleeding. The day I found out I was the Sterling family’s switched-at-birth mistake, Jax was the first one to show up and gloat. “Well, well, Willow. Turns out you’re a fake. No wonder you have no class.” I lunged at him, sinking my teeth into his neck. He couldn’t push me off, no matter how hard he tried. I felt the coppery tang of blood seep between my teeth. He let out a muffled groan of pain, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What are you, some kind of animal?!” Only then did I release him, licking the blood from the corner of my mouth. I just never imagined he’d have the same effect on our son. Jax reached out, his fingers closing around the back of Noah’s neck. “Alright, let’s go find your parents. I have to see what kind of people are responsible for a little monster like you.” My throat tightened. It was time to run. But just then, a sharp voice cut through the air. His teacher, Ms. Davis, came storming over in her high heels, her face a mask of fury. “Excuse me, which class are you with? Are you bullying one of our students?” For a rare moment, Jax actually looked embarrassed. Before he could speak, a woman in a chic cream-colored coat emerged from the crowd. She gracefully looped her arm through Jax’s and offered Ms. Davis a practiced smile. “Hello, teacher. I am so sorry about this. Please forgive our intrusion.” “We’re investors in the school, and we were just passing by to see the campus. My fiancé isn’t always the best with children. If he’s offended your student, I apologize on his behalf.” She gave a slight bow, her posture a picture of elegance. Ms. Davis’s anger immediately deflated. “Oh, an investor. Well, even so, you can’t be getting into fights with students…” Isabelle, the real Sterling daughter, turned to Jax, her tone laced with a gentle scolding. “Jax, darling, really. Why are you arguing with a child?” I watched their linked arms, a cynical sound escaping my lips. After Isabelle was welcomed back into the family, she had made it her mission to take everything from me. “Jax is mine too, sister,” she had said. “Surely you’re not going to try and steal him from me as well?” I had trembled with rage. If she was going to accuse me of being a usurper, I might as well play the part to the hilt. That night, I got him roaring drunk, dragged him to bed, and was gone before sunrise. I tugged the brim of my hat lower. As long as no one recognized me, everything would be fine. But just then, the teacher’s voice rang out again, stopping me in my tracks. “Oh, Noah’s mom! There you are. I was just about to call you.” I froze. 2 Jax’s gaze was already sweeping in our direction. Ms. Davis walked over to me, holding Noah’s hand. “Noah and that gentleman had a little misunderstanding. I just wanted to fill you in…” I kept my back to Jax, my voice a low whisper. “I’m in a huge rush right now, something urgent came up. Can I call you back later?” Ms. Davis blinked, taking in my panicked expression, then glanced over my shoulder. “Well, but…” I mumbled a half-baked excuse, bent down, and swept Noah into my arms. He wrapped his arms around my neck, his face a picture of confusion. I turned and ducked into a nearby alley, rushing us home. As soon as I set him down, Noah looked up at me. “That man kept staring at you, Mommy. When you walked away, he watched you for a really long time.” I didn’t answer, moving to shut the door, but a hand shot out and held it open. Isabelle stood on my doorstep, a triumphant, phony smile on her face. “Sister. I knew it was you. It’s been a long time.” “Tsk, tsk. I can’t blame Jax for not recognizing you. You look nothing like the proud, arrogant Sterling heiress you used to be.” Noah peeked out from behind my leg, his little face tense as he glared at her. Isabelle noticed his gaze and looked down, her smile widening. “And whose little bastard is this?” I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck. “Are you done?” The smile on her face faltered for a second before she pulled a gold-embossed invitation from her purse. “Sister, tomorrow is my wedding to Jax. Mom and Dad said that, after all, you were their daughter for twenty years. Even if you’re not their blood, they’d still like you to be there.” She pressed the invitation into my hand and leaned in close to my ear. “By the way, I still have those drawings of yours.” My eyebrows shot up. Isabelle took a step back, her face a mask of perfect composure, but her eyes were cold and sharp. “You left in such a hurry. That manila envelope… there were about twenty of them, right? All from your high school days.” She tilted her head, her smile sickeningly sweet. “I heard you were supposed to go to art school. What a shame. It was me who convinced Mom and Dad to cut you off financially. A pity you couldn’t afford it.” “I’ve looked through those drawings a few times. They’re all rather… intimate sketches of Jax, aren’t they?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “What do you want? I’ve left the Sterling family. Can’t you just leave me alone after all these years?” She let out a delighted laugh. “Sister, you stole so many years of my life. This is just the beginning.” “If you come to the wedding on Saturday, I’ll return the drawings to you in person. If you don’t… well, then I’ll just have to display them for all the guests to see. Let everyone know just how disgusting you are.” A laugh burst out of me. “Great. Go ahead. Let the whole world see his nudes.” Isabelle froze, her face flushing a deep red. “You’re shameless!” I smiled, pulling out my phone and waggling it at her. “Oh, and if that’s not explosive enough for you, I’ve got more. From that night… you know. Want a private screening?” I had nothing, of course, but I was an expert at bluffing. Isabelle’s face turned ashen. “Willow, you’re despicable!” I tilted my head, my smile bright. “If you don’t show everyone my masterpieces, you’re a coward.” She was shaking with rage, pointing a finger at me, unable to form a word. “You were spoiled rotten by the Sterlings! Even after all these years on your own, you still haven’t learned any humility. Just you wait.” She shot me one last venomous glare, then spun on her heel and stormed off. I yelled after her, “I’ll be there tomorrow! You’re a coward if you don’t show them!” Noah poked his head out from behind the door. “Mommy, what did you draw?” I pinched his cheek. “Mommy is taking you to crash a wedding.” 3 The next day, I arrived at the old Sterling family estate as promised. Isabelle, draped in a wedding gown with a long train, found me in a corner where I was adjusting Noah’s little suit. “Sister, you came. Perfect. There’s something I need your help with.” I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her next move. She clapped her hands, and two security guards in black suits appeared behind her, grabbing my arms. “The kitchen is short-staffed today. The dishwasher called in sick. Since you’re not doing anything, you can go help out.” I frowned. “Isabelle, you invited me to your wedding just to make me wash dishes?” She looked me up and down, her gaze dripping with condescension. “It’s not hard work. Just washing some plates, mopping the floor. Surely you can handle that? You’re not the Sterling heiress who never lifted a finger anymore.” The guards started dragging me towards the kitchens. Noah rushed forward, clinging to my leg. “Don’t touch my mommy!” Isabelle gave one of the guards a look. He stepped forward, grabbed Noah by the collar, and lifted him away from me. “Isabelle!” I struggled, shouting. “Let go of my son!” “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt him,” she said, adjusting her veil, her voice light and airy. “As soon as you’re done in the kitchen, I promise you’ll get your son back in one piece.” She paused, leaning close to my ear, her voice a low hiss. “Of course, that’s only if you do a good job. Break a single plate, and you and your son will be going home naked.” The guards shoved me into the kitchen and left me in front of a mountain of greasy plates. “You can leave when you’re finished.” The door was locked from the outside. I took a deep breath, rolled up my sleeves, and started scrubbing. I washed for nearly an hour, my hands pruned and white. Suddenly, I heard a commotion from the main hall. It was followed by Isabelle’s piercing shriek. “How is that possible? It was right on my hand! That diamond ring is worth five million dollars!” “Where could it have gone?!” A cold knot of dread formed in my stomach. A terrible premonition washed over me. I peeked through the crack in the door. The next thing I heard was Isabelle’s voice, thick with insinuation. “Just now… I think there was a child who was very close to me. He even bumped into me, and now my ring is gone.” Before her words had even faded, a guard emerged, holding Noah firmly. My son was still holding half a macaroon, his cheeks puffed out. He looked utterly bewildered by the sudden attention. “I didn’t do it!” “What are you doing? Let me go!” Noah began to struggle violently. Isabelle rushed over, her face a mask of fake apology. “I’m so sorry, little one.” “But this ring is extremely valuable. I simply can’t afford to lose it. I just want to check, to see if you have it on you. If you don’t, I’ll have them let you go immediately!” As every guest in the room watched, the ring was pulled from Noah’s pocket. A collective gasp went through the hall, followed by a wave of murmurs and disgusted looks from every direction. 4 A few of the society ladies close to the Sterling family were already frowning, pointing at Noah. “You can just tell he has no breeding, running around like a wild animal at an event like this.” “Where are his parents? When a child causes this much trouble, the parents need to be held accountable.” Noah’s face slowly turned crimson. He shouted, “I didn’t! I didn’t bump into her! And I didn’t take her ring!” But his small voice was lost in the sea of judgmental whispers. I pounded on the door, my palm stinging, but it wouldn’t budge. Just then, the police and venue security arrived. The evidence was undeniable, found in front of everyone. A police officer knelt down. “Son, where are your parents? Who told you to steal?” That question was like a needle, popping the balloon of Noah’s composure. He blinked, his eyelashes suddenly wet, but he fought back the tears. “I don’t know.” Isabelle clung to her mother, who had rushed to her side, sobbing dramatically. “Mom, that ring… it was a symbol of Jax’s love for me.” “This is the son my sister raised on the outside. We were kind enough to invite them to the wedding, and this is how they repay us, with their thieving hands.” The murmuring grew louder. “Oh, it’s her… the fake heiress…” “No wonder. A bastard raises a bastard. A family of thieves!” Noah bit his lip so hard it was a wonder it didn’t bleed, refusing to let a single tear fall. At that moment, a hush fell over the entrance to the hall as the crowd parted to form a path. Jax walked in, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his expression unreadable. Isabelle dried her tears, her voice becoming formal and business-like. “Officer, there’s one more thing.” She took her phone out of her clutch, pulled up a few photos, and handed it to the police. “These are drawings my sister made. The subject matter… they are all photos she secretly took of my fiancé, which she then used to create… those kinds of drawings.” She paused, a faint blush on her cheeks, as if the topic was too embarrassing to discuss. “My fiancé is Jax Walker, the heir to the Walker Corporation. These drawings are a serious violation of his privacy, and the content is incredibly… obscene.” The officer took the phone, his brow furrowed. “Where are these drawings now?” “They were in my possession. My sister came to the wedding today to demand them back. But I believe this kind of behavior cannot be tolerated. I intend to press charges.” She turned to Jax, her voice softening. “Right, Jax?” Jax finally looked up. He walked over to the police officer, and in one smooth motion, he lifted Noah into his arms. “I’m his father.” “And as for those pictures, I was the one who was barely dressed, trying to seduce her. I begged her to draw them.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444419”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the day the San Francisco earthquake hit, Liam told me he had joined the hospital’s emergency response team and was leaving that very night. I calmly packed his suitcase for him. As he dragged it toward the front door, I stopped him and asked, “Do you think you really know me?” He looked back at me, frowning, clearly confused by the question. “Like… what’s my Myers-Briggs personality type?” I smiled faintly. “Never mind. Have a safe trip.” We had an appointment at City Hall this Thursday to get our marriage license. To make that happen, I had worked overtime for the better part of a month just so I could take a half-day off during the workweek. But after he derailed my plans time and time again, I realized our relationship had reached its absolute limit. 1 Perhaps because I hadn’t been an emotionally supportive girlfriend during this brief separation, Liam took the initiative to call me at 11:30 PM on Thursday. It sounded like he had belatedly realized today was the day we were supposed to get married. His voice was exhausted as he offered apologies. I stared at the blinking cursor on my Word document. I had been sitting there since 10:00 PM and had managed to type exactly two lines. Only other fiction writers understand the absolute agony of writer’s block. His phone call chased away a fleeting spark of inspiration in my brain. Just like every other time he broke a promise, it made me incredibly irritable. Naturally, my tone wasn’t great. “Yeah, I know. Get some sleep.” I was about to hang up when he quickly added, “The hospital will give me a few days off when I get back. We can go get the license then.” A person with good morals probably shouldn’t say something upsetting to a doctor who is risking his life to save earthquake victims. But I believed that dragging things out would only cause more pain. Since he wasn’t going to be part of my future plans, he shouldn’t be interrupting my present. My work was important to me, too. “I’m afraid that won’t work,” I rejected him coldly. “Liam, from now on, my reasons for taking time off have nothing to do with you.” “What does that mean?” He paused for a moment before asking. “It means we’re breaking up.” I sounded like I was reading a corporate memo. “We’ve had a lot of happy memories over the years, but regardless, I wish you all the best in the future.” I hung up, blocked his number, and deleted his contact. To make a clean break, I even unfriended him on Venmo. That weekend, I packed up everything that belonged to him and had it delivered to his old apartment. I changed the passcode on my front door, deleted his fingerprint access, and then unblocked his number just long enough to text him: When you get back from SF, go straight to your own apartment. Don’t come here. Then, I blocked him again. That night, Liam used a random phone number to call me. He patiently and gently apologized again. “Chloe, it was wrong of me to postpone getting our license without talking to you first. But I thought you would understand. I am a doctor first, and myself second.” “I know,” I replied, my fingers flying aggressively across my mechanical keyboard. “I genuinely praise and admire your decision to volunteer in the disaster zone. But if you think our problems are just because you postponed a piece of paper… Liam, you’re insulting my intelligence.” “If you’re going to keep acting oblivious, stop calling me. It does nothing but ruin my mood.” Before today, I was willing to speak to him politely when breaking up. But after seeing an article published by the media company I used to work for, everything about Liam suddenly made me sick. Even though it was an entertainment gossip blog, during a massive event like the San Francisco earthquake, they pivoted to disaster coverage. However, the writers were still gossip columnists at heart. Under a clickbait headline like “Race Against Time: Gorgeous Doctors Perform Joint Brain Surgery,” the article subtly tried to ship the two attractive neurosurgeons involved. The handsome doctor was Liam. The gorgeous doctor was the woman he had secretly written about ten years ago on a postcard at a tourist trap: “Unrequited love is miserable. I’m just waiting for the woman I love to break up with her boyfriend.” I don’t know what state of mind a twenty-one-year-old Liam was in when he wrote that sentence. But ever since I accidentally discovered that photo with his desperate confession written on the back, all the strange, subtle shifts in Liam’s behavior recently made perfect sense. 2 Her name was Audrey Vance. She started pre-med at Boston University in 2006 and had been working in the neurosurgery department at Mass Gen ever since graduating. She came from a family of doctors, was currently thirty-four, three years older than Liam, and had started college at sixteen. That meant she was five academic years ahead of him. Because it was so long ago, it was hard to find much information about Audrey’s college days online. I only managed to piece together that she was a standout graduate, hailed by her peers as a child prodigy. But recently, BU posted an announcement that Audrey was returning to give a guest lecture. The high-res photo attached to her bio showed a striking, radiant woman. That face perfectly aligned with the young, immature girl I had seen in Liam’s family photo albums. The conclusion was glaringly obvious: Liam and Audrey grew up together. When I first flipped through those albums, I was curious about the little girl who appeared so frequently from childhood through high school. Then, she just vanished from the photos. At the time, Liam’s tone was casual. He just said she was a neighbor, their families were close, so they took a lot of pictures. But after her family moved to Boston, they lost touch. Audrey’s guest lecture at BU was scheduled for Saturday, June 29th. On that exact day, Liam and I had planned to go to a used bookstore to hunt for some rare editions. Early that morning, before breakfast, he looked hesitant and distracted. Finally, he told me that a doctor he deeply admired was giving a lecture at a university nearby, and he really wanted to go watch. For some reason, my mind instantly flashed to the announcement I had seen about Audrey’s lecture. BU live-streamed all their guest lectures now. I sat in front of my computer for ninety minutes and watched the whole thing. The content was almost identical to every other “outstanding alumni” speech I had suffered through during my own college years. It was the standard formula: her childhood dreams, her hard work in high school, her clear career planning in college, wrapped up with some motivational chicken soup for the wide-eyed undergrads in the audience. She mentioned a few rare clinical cases she had encountered, but since she was still relatively young, her experience was mostly just observing senior surgeons. If Liam was genuinely interested in those rare cases, reading the actual medical journals published by those senior surgeons would have been far more educational. In short, there was absolutely no professional reason for Liam to waste his time listening to that lecture. But thinking about it practically, they grew up together, and judging by the photos, they were close. It was perfectly normal to want to catch up and grab a meal after not seeing someone for years. So why couldn’t he just look me in the eye and tell me he was going to see her? When Liam got home, it was already evening. Beneath his usual calm expression, I could sense a hidden, bubbling joy. He immediately offered to take over the cooking. I leaned against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed, watching this tall, incredibly fit man look effortlessly handsome while flipping a spatula. “What did you have for lunch?” I asked him. “Braised chicken,” he replied. “With a friend?” I pressed. He glanced at me quickly. “Why do you ask?” I smiled. “If a lecture was good enough to make you cancel our plans, it probably attracted other med school alumni too. I figured you might have run into an old classmate.” He turned off the stove. In the moment it took him to slide the food onto a plate, the joyful fish swimming beneath his calm surface suddenly went completely still. “Yeah, I ran into an old classmate. We caught up for a long time.” “What about you? Did you find the books you were looking for?” he deflected. “No,” I said, feigning disappointment. “I was only going to try my luck today anyway.” Liam was an incredibly smart and observant man. If he hadn’t been completely intoxicated by the joy of reuniting with the woman he had loved for a decade, he probably would have noticed something when he came home from the lecture to grab his car keys. My everyday slippers weren’t by the front door. Which strongly implied I was home. I literally listened to the front door open and close. I watched through the living room security camera as he grabbed his car keys—something he rarely did, as he hated driving. And then, I checked the dashcam app on my phone and watched him drive Audrey Vance to the airport. “Next time. I’ll take a day off and go with you next time. We’ll definitely find the books you want,” he promised. 3 Audrey’s home was in Boston, and so was her career. It was hard for two neurosurgeons living on opposite sides of the country to maintain a spark. The little flutter of excitement from their reunion slowly faded over time. But then, Audrey was coming back. I only found out by chance. My alma mater, MIT, posted an article about an upcoming symposium featuring “Outstanding Young Innovators.” Audrey’s name was on the list. The date was Monday, July 29th, at 9:00 AM. I didn’t click the article to read all the bios. Her resume was just so impressive that they used her name in the headline as clickbait. It was impossible to miss. Monday, July 29th, was also the day Liam and I were scheduled to have our wedding photo shoot. We were supposed to try on five different outfits—two for indoor shots, three for outdoor locations. As he was getting ready to leave for work that morning, he hesitated. Once we were in the elevator, just the two of us, he finally spoke. “Chloe, the hospital is running a free clinic today, and I really want to volunteer. It’s just for the morning. We can still try on the outfits in the afternoon.” The hospital Liam worked at did occasionally set up free clinics outside the main entrance, usually on Mondays, from 10 AM to 4 PM. It was late July. The humidity was suffocating, making the city feel like a giant sauna. Standing outside a heavily air-conditioned hospital in this heat to run a free clinic was absolutely miserable work. Fine. He was a saintly doctor. I told him to go. After he left, I used the excuse of booking a Groupon for a hotpot place—$100 off a $300 meal for new users—to log into his phone. In reality, I just opened his transit app to check his subway history. He tapped in at the station near our apartment. He tapped out at the MIT station. Getting to MIT required transferring from the Red Line to the Green Line. His hospital was a straight shot on the Orange Line. A moment later, I closed the app and handed his phone back. “You should stay at the clinic for the afternoon too. I suddenly got swamped with work,” I said. He didn’t question it. He just nodded. Maybe that was the exact moment the idea of marrying him started to curdle in my mind. The receptionist at the bridal studio had told me earlier that the couple booked for the afternoon slot had a sudden emergency, and asked if Liam and I could swap with them. Given how insane both of our work schedules were, getting everything done today would have been perfect. But I didn’t ask Liam’s opinion immediately. I waited. I waited to see if he had the self-control to stay away, to see if he would choose to go see Audrey. I ended up going to the bridal studio alone that afternoon. The studio was completely unsympathetic and informed me that downgrading from a couple’s shoot to a solo portrait session didn’t qualify for a partial refund. Furious, I went and ordered a massive Korean BBQ combo meant for four people and ate it by myself. I brought the leftovers home. Liam asked if I had gone out with coworkers. I told him I went alone. He paused, then asked why I didn’t invite him. “You were busy,” I replied. We had been dating for three years and living together for two. He knew that when I was mad, my default response was a cold, sarcastic attitude. He didn’t coddle me, mostly because whenever he messed up, he would take the initiative to apologize. Like that time. Like right now. I used to soften up whenever he apologized. I would comfort myself by thinking that if we were going to be married for decades, fights were inevitable. If we were committing to a life together, we needed to be forgiving. Besides, in many other aspects of our life, he was incredibly accommodating to me. Now, it just felt completely hollow. His apology was as sincere as ever. He admitted his mistake first, and then proposed a solution. “I’ll take tomorrow off. We’ll go try the outfits together,” he said. I shoved the leftover BBQ into the fridge, turned around, and stared at him expressionlessly. It felt like he suddenly didn’t know me at all. I liked my life meticulously organized. If one of my plans was disrupted without warning, I got angry and irritable. Especially when the disruption wasn’t due to an unavoidable emergency. “So, I have to take tomorrow off too?” “In your mind, your work is a career, and my work is just a hobby?” A flash of guilt crossed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ll schedule my time off around your days off.” “Don’t bother,” I replied. “Since you don’t care about it, it doesn’t matter if we take the photos or not.” Before walking into the bedroom, I looked at him with deadly seriousness. “You need to think long and hard about this marriage.” 4 Why didn’t I just break up with him right then? Why was I willing to give him another chance? Because the blueprint of my entire future was covered in his fingerprints. My original plan was to get the marriage license first, and then lay all my cards on the table about Audrey. I knew him well enough to believe that once everything was out in the open, he would sever any lingering romantic ties. Until I saw him and Audrey together in San Francisco. The night air in the suburbs was crisp and clean. Julian stood next to me, his voice so soft it felt like a breeze could blow it away. “So, why did you finally decide to end it? Do you think he intentionally went to SF to see his old crush?” I shook my head, turning to look at him with a smile. “Because the universe loves me.” “The postcard from ten years ago, the headline in the university newsletter, the article on my old company’s website… don’t you think that’s way too many coincidences?” I looked at him, my eyes bright. All the gloom from my fights with Liam had evaporated. “Plus, tonight, when I drove out here… I thought I could push past my hatred of driving. But I couldn’t. You have no idea how miserable I was the entire drive over here.” “I hate driving, period. So far, I haven’t met a single person or encountered a single situation that makes driving not feel like a chore. So you can imagine… when Liam chose to drive Audrey to the airport that day, the sheer joy he felt had to completely overpower his hatred of driving.” “So…” Julian prompted. “So, everything happens for my benefit,” I said. “The universe favors me. It was telling me not to wait until decades from now, when Liam is on his deathbed, wondering if his life would have been different if he had just been brave enough to chase the woman he truly loved.” “I know that once you’re dead, nothing matters anymore, but just the thought of him harboring that kind of regret makes me sick to my stomach.” Julian was a professional chess player I had met by chance, a world runner-up. We met in a bookstore run by an incredibly eccentric owner. Membership was ten dollars a month, and you could read any book in the store for free. The AC was always blasting, and the decor and vibe were absolutely perfect. But there was a catch: absolutely no books could be bought or borrowed. If you wanted to read, you had to stay in the store. In today’s hyper-fast world, almost no one has the patience to sit quietly in a bookstore. Combined with its hidden location, the place was virtually empty. I only found out about it because I loved hunting for rare editions. When I realized this store had a massive collection of out-of-print books, I felt like a massive idiot for spending a thousand dollars on eBay for a vintage magazine set that originally retailed for twenty bucks. When the night breeze finally felt too cold, I got ready to drive Julian back. He waved his phone at me. “It’s going to be a minute. I ordered an Uber.” “If you hate driving, calling a car is a much better option.” “I hope you don’t mind me interfering.” Talking to Julian was incredibly comfortable. He easily matched my wavelength, and everything he said was exactly what I wanted to hear. For example— The day Liam came back from San Francisco was a Saturday. He dragged his suitcase to my front door, the dim hallway lighting unable to hide his exhaustion. I thought about his apartment, which hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. Whether he cleaned it himself or hired a maid, it would take time. In a moment of weakness, I let him in. He froze in the entryway. I said, “You don’t need to take off your shoes. Just come in.” His slippers were no longer on the shoe rack. “Are you going straight to bed, or do you want to eat something first?” I asked. His tall frame stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, his suitcase making him look travel-worn. “You sentenced me to death. You owe me an explanation.” I didn’t hide anything. I told him straight out that I knew about his past crush on Audrey, and that I knew he was still obsessed with her. Honestly, I wasn’t mad that he used to have feelings for someone else. Audrey was an incredibly impressive woman. If he hadn’t tried to have his cake and eat it too, I would have just thought he had great taste in women. “I admit it,” he said after listening to me, his face blank. “I handled that poorly.” “After her lecture, I cut contact with her. Running into her in SF was a complete coincidence. We’re both at critical points in our careers. Volunteering for disaster relief looks great on a resume when it’s time for promotions. You know how this works.” “I know,” I said, completely unfazed. “I also believe you went to SF purely to help people, not to see her.” “But you know me. I believe in fate. The universe putting that article right in front of my face was its way of telling me that your connection isn’t severed, and that you and I were only ever meant to be a stepping stone.” “There is no ‘unsevered connection,’ Chloe. She’s married. Her husband is a cop. She has an adopted daughter. She’s incredibly happy.” I froze, staring at him in disbelief. “She’s married and you’re still obsessing over her? That’s completely unethical.” “So all your assumptions were just a huge misunderstanding,” Liam countered. “Hiding my meetings with her and keeping a ten-year-old postcard was wrong, and I apologize. Can we move past this?” His pleading tone softened my heart for a fraction of a second. But I am as stubborn as a mule. Once I make a decision, I rarely change it, even if it’s the wrong one. We had the most explosive fight of our entire relationship that day. The golden window for earthquake rescue is 72 hours. He hadn’t slept properly for 72 hours, had to deal with this relationship disaster, and came home to a stubborn mule like me. Anyone would have lost their temper. He said, “Chloe, we aren’t kids anymore. This isn’t college where you date if you feel like it and dump someone if you’re bored.” He continued, “You chose to marry me for purely practical reasons. You say I want my cake and eat it too? What about you? You don’t even know how to be in a relationship. You just picked a husband who checked your boxes, someone who could be useful to you. You factored in so many selfish variables when you chose me. Look at how much I’ve tolerated since we got together. Why can’t you tolerate me just this once?” It felt like he was trying to collect interest on every grievance he had ever suffered with me. I looked at him, looking as deflated as a popped balloon. I felt no pity, no heartbreak, only rage and a sense of absolute absurdity. “Oh really? Tell me, how exactly did I use you for my own gain?” He pressed his lips together and stayed silent. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Aside from my corporate day job, I was also a novelist. After we met, I constantly asked him questions about neurosurgery to write a medical workplace drama. It got published and the TV rights were sold. I pocketed nearly a million dollars from the IP rights. I had done this before. My ex-boyfriend was a corporate negotiator, and I used his professional knowledge to write a book that also sold film rights. I never hid that from Liam. “Deep down, you think I only date guys so I can mine them for research to sell books? You think you’re just a cog in my money-making machine? “That is hilarious, Liam. If I just wanted professional advice, I could pay consulting fees to dozens of elite professionals. I can write workplace dramas, get them published, and sell the film rights because I have a sharp commercial eye and raw talent. I don’t need to play emotional games just to steal some medical jargon. I’m above that. “Yes, I am practical. I chose you because you come from a good family, you have elite degrees, and you’re incredibly handsome. Why else would I choose you? Do you really think someone with my average background, average education, and average job isn’t good enough for a golden boy like you?” Spitting out every thought in my brain in one breath, I watched his face drain of color. The last shred of affection I had for him evaporated. “I’m so sorry to break it to you, but I think I’m pretty fantastic. I’m good enough for anyone.” I slammed the door and left. After driving a few miles, I suddenly realized it was my apartment. Rookie mistake. Julian found me at a Dave & Buster’s. I was aggressively playing the claw machine. When you’re in a terrible mood, the whole world seems to conspire against you. I had blown way too much money on tokens, but I couldn’t grab a single plushie. I wanted to kick the machine through the wall. Julian plucked three tokens from my basket and started operating the joystick beside me. “When you play chess, you have to calm your mind. The same goes for the claw machine.” He handed me the Lotso Bear I had been failing to win for twenty minutes. “You look like you’re having a terrible time. Do you need someone to vent to?” As an introvert, I usually processed my problems internally. I rarely vented to anyone. But that day, I followed Julian to a spot with a beautiful view of the city skyline at night. Whenever Julian spoke, if he included a philosophical point or life advice, he always used chess as a metaphor. Coincidentally, I had outlined a novel a long time ago about a male chess prodigy. I had shelved it because my own understanding of chess was pathetic. I recognized Julian because I had watched his tournament videos on YouTube while researching the book. Maybe Julian could provide the inspiration I was missing for that story. Sometimes I hate how my brain works. The more chaotic and frustrated I feel, the more aggressively rational I become. “I use the silent treatment. I refuse to communicate. I have a million toxic flaws as a girlfriend, and I admit all of them,” I said, staring at the distant moonlight, my tone stubborn. “But he tried to use my flaws to justify his betrayal. I can’t accept that.” Julian looked up at the moon. The soft silver light washed over his face, highlighting his sharp jawline perfectly. “A rose’s thorns are part of its beauty, even if they draw blood.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444435”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was the only one on the wall for seventy-two hours against a siege of hackers. I held the line until the last second, then collapsed on the server room floor. I woke up in the ICU. The first message I saw was a company-wide memo: Three days of unexcused absence. A fifty-thousand-dollar fine. My director stood at my bedside and laid it out plainly. “Rules are rules. No exceptions.” I pulled the IV from my hand and said one word. “Fine.” From that day on, no one understood the rules better than me. 1 The fluorescent lights of the ICU were a stinging white. I had to blink three times just to pry my eyes open. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic, and an IV needle was taped to the back of my left hand. A deep blue bruise was blooming on my wrist. On the bedside table, my phone screen was lit up. I turned my head, my gaze falling on the notification bar. 127 unread messages. The one at the very top was a company-wide email. Sender: Human Resources. With my free hand, I reached for the phone, my thumb swiping the screen open. “Subject: Official Notice Regarding Unexcused Absence of Alex Chen, Technology Department. This memo is to inform all personnel that, following a review, it has been confirmed that Alex Chen, Network Security Engineer, was absent from March 12th to March 14th without submitting a formal leave request as stipulated in Article 17 of the Employee Attendance Management Policy. In accordance with company regulations, the following actions will be taken: 1. A formal reprimand will be issued company-wide. 2. Mr. Chen’s quarterly performance bonus of $50,000 will be forfeited. 3. This incident will be recorded in Mr. Chen’s permanent employee file.” I scrolled to the bottom of the email. CC: All Employees. A flick of my thumb down, and the department group chat was already exploding. Someone tagged me: “Alex, you okay, man?” Someone else asked, “This has to be a mistake, right?” But most of them were silent. A heavy, telling silence I knew all too well. I stared at the ceiling, a dull ringing in my ears. March 12th, 9:47 PM. The company’s internal network monitoring system lit up like a Christmas tree from hell. I was just about to leave. My backpack was slung over one shoulder, one arm already in my jacket sleeve. The single alert on my screen multiplied, from one to ten, then ten to a hundred. Someone was hitting our core database with a distributed attack. This wasn’t a standard DDoS flood; it was a surgical strike. They knew our internal topology, slipping through a port that should have never been open. It was like they had a key to the front door. I dropped my bag on the floor, threw my jacket over the back of my chair, and sat down to fight back. I called Marcus Reed, my director. It rang six times, no answer. I called Frank, one of the lead ops guys. He said he was on the freeway, at least two hours out. It was just me, alone, staring at six monitors, plugging the holes. I’d block one vector, and they’d pivot, coming at me from another angle. Block that one, and they’d find another. The attack traffic surged from 800 megabits per second to 40 gigabits per second. I downed twelve cans of Red Bull. Then came the coffee, black, no sugar, chugged cold right from the pot. The first day passed. The second day passed. On the third day, the afternoon of March 14th, as I tried to stand up from the server room floor, my vision went black. My knees buckled first, then my forehead slammed into the sharp metal corner of a server rack. Frank told me later that when he finally pushed open the server room door, I was face down on the ground, blood matting my hair, my hand still resting on the keyboard. The attack was over. I had held the line. The data, client information, and core code for over three hundred employees—not a single byte was lost. And then I ended up in the ICU. And then I received the notice of unexcused absence. The door to my room swung open just as I was reading that email for the third time, word by agonizing word. Marcus Reed walked in. Suit, tie, hair perfectly coiffed. He carried a small bag of fruit, which he placed on the bedside table, patting an orange as if to check its firmness. “You’re awake,” he said, pulling a chair over and crossing his legs. “How are you feeling?” I didn’t answer. He waited a few seconds, sensing the tension, and cleared his throat. “You saw the memo, I take it.” I nodded. “Alex, you’ve been with us a while. You know the policies.” His tone was a well-rehearsed “my-hands-are-tied,” but the slight curve of his lips betrayed him. “Leave requests have to go through the official channels, approved by your direct supervisor. You were gone for three days with nothing in the system. When HR asked me about it, I couldn’t exactly lie, could I?” “I was in the server room,” I said, my voice hoarse. He held up a hand, a gesture to stop me. “I know you worked hard. I appreciate the effort. But effort is one thing, and policy is another. They’re two separate issues. If you had just called me, sent a text, anything to get a paper trail started, I could have approved it after the fact. But you did nothing.” He paused, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “Corporate is auditing attendance records right now. At a time like this, nobody gets a pass.” I just looked at him. His gaze was steady, his lines delivered flawlessly, as if he’d practiced in a mirror. “Rules are rules,” he said, standing and smoothing a non-existent wrinkle from his trousers. “No exceptions.” The room fell silent for a few seconds, punctuated by the steady beep… beep… beep of the heart monitor. I clenched the bedsheets, my nails digging into my palms. The last seventy-two hours flashed through my mind in a chaotic montage: the frantic cascade of data across six screens, the stomach-cramping coffee I kept pouring down my throat, the low hum of the fluorescent lights in the server room at 4 AM, the cold, sharp shock of metal against my forehead as I collapsed. I swallowed hard. And then I said one word. “Fine.” Marcus froze for a second. He had probably come prepared with a full script. If I got angry, he’d play the sympathetic but helpless manager. If I broke down, he’d offer a tissue and feigned compassion. But all I said was, “Fine.” The word was too small, too quiet. It gave him nothing to work with. He nodded, patting my shoulder. “Good. Get some rest. We need you back at the office.” The door clicked shut. His footsteps faded down the hall. I stared at the IV in the back of my hand for a long, long time. Then I picked up my phone, closed the email, and opened a new note. I typed a line: Employee Attendance Management Policy, Article 17. Then another: Find the full text. 2 The day I was discharged, the sky was a bruised gray, hanging so low it felt like it could collapse at any moment. I stood outside the office building for three seconds, took a breath, and pushed through the glass doors. The receptionist looked up, met my eyes, and then her gaze darted away as she pretended to sort a stack of packages. Walking past the marketing department, I could feel their eyes on me from the corners of their vision. The rhythmic clatter of keyboards suddenly intensified, the keys struck with a little too much force, a performance of “I’m very busy and definitely not looking at you.” I ran into Susan from accounting at the elevators. She held the door for me. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke in a low voice. “Alex, about that memo… nobody thinks it was right.” I just nodded at her. “Thanks, Susan.” I didn’t say anything else. The tech department was on the twelfth floor. The moment I walked in, a hush fell over the entire area. I understood that silence. It wasn’t concern. It was the quiet of a crowd watching a spectacle. Everyone has their own scale. They knew what I did, and they knew how I was being treated. But on the other side of that scale sat their mortgages, their car payments, and their kids’ tuition. So the scales didn’t move an inch. I got it. I sat down at my desk, booted up my computer, and said nothing. A fresh stack of work orders sat on my desk. The one on top was signed by Marcus, marked “URGENT.” I pushed the stack aside, opened the company’s internal portal, and typed into the search bar: “Company Policies.” Employee Attendance Management Policy, 94 pages. Overtime Management Regulations, 47 pages. Travel and Expense Reimbursement Policy, 62 pages. Project Management Workflow Standards, 118 pages. Information Security Management Ordinance, 83 pages. In total, thirty-seven policy documents, over two thousand pages of text. I started with the first one, reading every single word. At 3 PM, Frank came over with two cups of coffee. He set one on my desk and held the other. “Alex,” he said, pulling up an empty chair and leaning in close. “Don’t do this to yourself, man. That fifty grand… I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry.” “Frank,” I said without looking up from my screen. “When you found me in the server room, what did it look like?” He was quiet for a moment. “You were face down. Your forehead was split open on the corner of a server rack. There was blood everywhere. When I rolled you over, your hands were ice-cold.” “And who did you tell about this?” “I told Marcus,” Frank said, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the paper cup. “He said he knew, but told me to keep it quiet. Said corporate was breathing down our necks and we couldn’t afford any drama.” I nodded slowly, my eyes still fixed on the screen. Frank didn’t leave. He seemed to want to say something more but couldn’t find the words. Finally, after a few minutes, he broke. “What the hell are you reading, anyway?” “Company policy.” “Why would you read that crap?” I turned to look at him then. “I’m learning.” Frank’s mouth opened, then snapped shut. He’d known me for five years. He knew that when I said “I’m learning,” I wasn’t kidding. He walked away, taking his coffee with him. By the end of the day, I had finished the Attendance Management Policy and the Overtime Management Regulations. I had jotted down seven specific article numbers in my notes. One of them, Article 23, Section 4, was crystal clear: “In the event of a sudden emergency preventing the timely submission of a leave request, the employee’s direct supervisor may submit a retroactive request on their behalf within three working days.” In other words, during those seventy-two hours, all Marcus had to do was click a “Submit Retroactive” button for me in the system, and my absence wouldn’t have been unexcused. He didn’t click it. He chose not to. I highlighted that article in red and saved the note in a new folder. I named the folder “Study Notes.” Before shutting down my computer, I looked up one more thing. That anomaly I first noticed at 9:47 PM on March 12th, right before the whole system went into meltdown. The point of entry for the attack—a port that should never have been open. The permissions required to open that port could only be granted by an admin account at the director level or higher. I had been too busy fighting the fire to dig deeper then. Now, I had time. I copied the port number into my notes. Then I shut down my machine. On the dot. 6:00 PM. Not a second later. 3 The next morning, I clocked in at 9:00 AM sharp. Not 8:55, not 8:58. Exactly 9:00. Because the company policy stated, black on white: “Working hours are from 9:00 AM to 6:00 PM.” Marcus called on me during the morning stand-up. “Alex, did you see that urgent ticket I sent you yesterday? The client is breathing down our necks.” “I saw it,” I said. “And when can we expect delivery?” “As soon as the process is complete.” He frowned. “What process?” I opened the notes app on my phone and read aloud. “According to the Project Management Workflow Standards, Article 8, Section 2: ‘Tasks requiring inter-departmental collaboration must be initiated via a formal Collaboration Request Form, signed and approved by the heads of both departments before work can commence.’ This ticket requires server permissions from the Operations team, which qualifies as inter-departmental collaboration. We need their signature.” The conference room fell silent. My colleagues stared down at their notebooks, avoiding my eyes, avoiding Marcus’s. A muscle in Marcus’s jaw twitched. “We’ve never bothered with formal processes for small things like this.” I looked up, meeting his gaze directly. “Director, you were the one who taught me. Rules are rules.” His expression hardened into a mask. That ticket didn’t get done that day. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t do it. The process wasn’t complete. The head of Ops, Dave, was out of town on business. He wouldn’t be back to sign it for three days. I documented the delay with meticulous clarity in an email, CC’ing Marcus and the entire project team, and attached a screenshot of the relevant company policy. At 5:58 PM, I started clearing my desk. At 6:00 PM, I stood up. Marcus poked his head out of his office. “Alex, that data migration isn’t—” “Director,” I cut him off. He stopped, stunned. I pulled a printed sheet of paper from my desk drawer and handed it to him. Overtime Management Regulations, Article 5: “Employee overtime must be requested by the department head via an Overtime Request Form at least twenty-four hours in advance and approved by Human Resources. Any work performed outside of standard hours without prior approval will not be recognized by the company or compensated as overtime.” “If you need me to work late, please submit the request twenty-four hours in advance,” I said, placing the paper on his desk. “See you tomorrow.” Marcus stood in his office doorway, the muscles in his face pulled taut. He wanted to explode. But he couldn’t. He had no grounds. Because these were the very rules he had used as a weapon against me. I turned and walked out of the office. Behind me, I heard the sound of his door slamming shut. I ran into Frank in the elevator on my way out. He looked me up and down, a complicated expression on his face. “What?” I asked. “Nothing. It’s just… you’ve changed.” “How so?” He thought for a long moment before finding the word. “Terrifying.” The third day, the client called to check on the project’s progress and was informed the paperwork was still being processed. They filed a formal complaint directly with Marcus. From my desk, I heard the sound of a mug shattering against a wall in his office. I didn’t look up. My fingers typed out a new line in my notes. Information Security Management Ordinance, Article 31. Server operation logs must be retained for a period of one year. It had been eleven days since March 12th. Three hundred and fifty-four days left. Plenty of time. 4 Marcus was spearheading a major project. The Apex Solutions data platform—a $1.5 million contract, the biggest deal of the year for our company. From its inception, I had been the one to design every core technical solution for that project. Marcus didn’t understand the tech; he understood signing documents and leading meetings. At every technical review with the client, he’d sit at the head of the table in his tailored suit, give a three-minute opening speech, and then say, “And now, I’ll turn it over to our lead technical expert to walk you through the details.” That was my cue to take the microphone for the next two hours. The client thought Marcus was the technical mastermind. In reality, he couldn’t even name the tech stack I was using in my own proposal. Now, the project was at a critical acceptance phase. The client demanded that phase three be delivered by Friday, or they would invoke the penalty clause in the contract. Marcus sent me an email. The subject line had three exclamation points. “URGENT!!! Apex Project Phase Three Delivery—Must Be Completed This Week.” I replied with an email of my own. The body was just three lines long, with two attachments. “Director Reed, Regarding the Apex project phase three delivery, the following process steps have not yet been completed: 1. The ‘Database Permission Change Request’ requires your signature before it can be submitted to the Information Security department for approval. Current Status: Awaiting Signature (This has been in your approval queue for 6 working days). 2. The ‘Test Environment Deployment Plan’ requires cooperation from the Operations team. An ‘Inter-Departmental Collaboration Request’ must be submitted by you. Current Status: Not Initiated. Once these processes are complete, I will begin the technical delivery immediately.” I CC’d the entire project team and HR. Twenty minutes later, the door to Marcus’s office was yanked open. “Alex. My office. Now.” His voice was controlled, but barely. The edges were frayed. I stood up, taking my phone with me. I walked in. He shut the door behind me, turned around, and his face was flushed a deep, angry red. “What the hell are you doing?” “Awaiting your approval.” “That request has been sitting in my queue for six days! Why didn’t you just remind me?” I stood my ground. He hadn’t invited me to sit. “According to the Internal Systems Usage Policy, Article 12: ‘Approvers at all levels are expected to process requests within three working days of receipt. The system will issue an automatic reminder for any overdue items.’ The system has already reminded you twice, Director.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Alex, is this about the memo? Are you holding a grudge?” “No.” “Then what is this?” I looked him straight in the eye. “You taught me, sir. Rules are rules. I’m just following them.” His right hand gripped the edge of his desk, his knuckles turning white. The phone on his desk rang, its shrill tone cutting through the tension. He hesitated for a second, then snatched it up. It was the client. I stood two meters away, but I could clearly hear the impatient male voice on the other end. “Marcus, what’s the status on phase three? My director has asked me about it three times already.” Marcus’s face contorted, a strained smile plastered on his lips. “Mr. Davis, rest assured, we’ll have it for you in the next couple of days—” “A couple of days? That’s what you said last week.” He turned his back to me, lowering his voice, but I heard every word. When he hung up, he spun back around. “I want you to go right now and get that—” “The process isn’t complete,” I said. He stared at me, his eyes burning. I stared back. After a tense ten seconds, he violently ripped a folder from his desk, flipped to the pending approval form, scribbled his signature, and slammed it down in front of me. “Take it.” “The inter-departmental collaboration request needs your signature as well.” He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling sharply through his nose. He signed it. I picked up both sheets of paper. “I will submit these to Information Security for approval today. The standard processing time is two to three business days. I will begin execution as soon as approval is granted.” “Two to three business days?!” his voice shot up. “The client’s deadline is this Friday!” I paused at the door without turning back. “Director, I don’t set the approval timelines. Company policy does. If you have a problem with the process, I suggest you take it up with corporate.” I walked out of his office, pulling the door gently shut behind me. Back at my desk, a new message from Frank was on my screen. “Are you insane???” I didn’t reply. I opened my notes app and created a new file inside the “Study Notes” folder. The title was: “Plan for Retrieving Server Logs for Anomalous Port Opening on March 12th.” On Friday, the Apex project failed to meet its deadline. The client sent a formal notice, invoking the penalty clause for a total of twenty thousand dollars. Marcus posted a message in the department group chat: “I will be reporting the cause of this project delay truthfully and accurately to upper management.” Everyone knew he was talking to me. But he didn’t tag me. Because he couldn’t. Every step I took was by the book.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444420”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was pregnant, and I was craving strawberries. I bought two pounds of them, brought them home, washed them perfectly clean, and called my husband and mother-in-law to come have some. I went to my bedroom to change my clothes. When I came back, the plate was full of pale, white cores. The bright red, sweetest tips of the strawberries had been bitten off by my husband. The middle parts had been gnawed away by my mother-in-law. My mother-in-law, her mouth dripping with juice, pushed the plate toward me: “Emily, eat! They’re so sweet!” I stared at the pale, leftover bottoms of the strawberries. Stuck to the fruit were gross, dark green bits of garlic and spinach that had fallen out of my mother-in-law’s teeth! I grabbed the edge of the table and flipped it over. I turned, walked out the front door, and called my mom. “Mom, you were right. I’m getting the abortion.” 1 I had been talking about wanting strawberries for a week. David promised to buy them for me every single day. And every single day, he came home from work looking like a beaten dog, dragging his feet, and giving me a shameless smile: “Sorry, honey, I totally forgot!” His mother would stand off to the side, doting on her precious son. She’d hand him a cold beer, massage his shoulders, and then throw a passive-aggressive jab at me: “What’s so special about a fancy fruit anyway? You don’t have to eat it today. I’ll buy it for you tomorrow!” I was furious. I complained to David: “Your mom says she’ll buy them for me every day, and I still haven’t had a single strawberry all week!” The moment I brought up his mother, his face darkened: “Do you know how old she is? It’s hard enough for her to come all the way out here to take care of you, and you have the nerve to order her around?” His tone made my blood boil. “Then send her back home! Who asked her to take care of me?!” David’s eyes grew cold. He clenched his jaw and didn’t say another word. We had been fighting about this constantly lately. I was so sick and tired of it. As my best friend put it: “Just tolerate it. It’s his mom. If he’s the kind of guy who abandons his mother the second he gets a wife, you couldn’t rely on his character anyway.” I sat heavily on the edge of the bed. Fine. I’ll just buy the damn strawberries myself tomorrow! 2 I specifically asked to leave work half an hour early. I took a long detour to an upscale organic grocery store just to buy them. I never used to have cravings like this. It was definitely the pregnancy. Not getting to eat what I was craving was making my entire body physically uncomfortable. When I got home, my mother-in-law, Martha, was sitting on the couch with drooping eyelids, knitting baby booties. I had told her previously that no one puts babies in hand-knitted itchy wool booties anymore. She didn’t listen, so I stopped caring. Let her do what she wants. When she looked up and saw the carton of strawberries in my hand, her sarcastic attitude immediately flared up. “Oh, so you actually bought them? Wow, young people these days are so spoiled. Eating whatever they want, whenever they want. Back in my day, the men got the best cuts of the roast, and the women ate the scraps and gristle.” I couldn’t be bothered to respond. At this point, my strategy with her was just to pretend she didn’t exist. Just as I was heading to the kitchen to wash the fruit, the front door clicked open. David was home. He walked in completely empty-handed, acting like an overgrown infant, holding his arms out so his mommy could take his coat. “The project is finally over, Emily. I’ll spend lots of time with you these next couple of days.” I looked at him and let out a cold laugh. “You’re home so early. Where are my strawberries?” He slapped his forehead. “I forgot. I’ll go buy them right now.” Martha quickly grabbed his arm. “Come back here! You’re exhausted, don’t run back out. See, no one loves you as much as your mother.” After saying that, she shot a vicious, sideways glare at me. I turned into the kitchen, washed the strawberries thoroughly, and popped one into my mouth. God, it was so sweet! I looked down and realized I was still in my work clothes. I set the bowl of strawberries on the dining table. “Have a couple. I can’t eat all of these myself anyway.” I went to the bedroom, changed into my loungewear, and came back out. My strawberries were ruined. A plate full of pale, white bottoms. Not a speck of red left. David had already rolled off to his study to play video games. Martha, chewing loudly with juice staining her lips, pushed the plate toward me: “Emily, eat! They’re so sweet!” 3 I had waited a week for these strawberries! I bought them, I washed them, and I only got to eat exactly one! I didn’t even need to guess. The sweet, red tips were definitely bitten off by David, and the middle parts were gnawed on by Martha! Ever since Martha moved into our house, this was how she and David divided food. If I cooked a steak, David got the tender center cuts, and Martha happily took the fatty edges. Martha was even proud of it. She used to say that when David’s father was alive, she wasn’t even allowed to eat the fatty cuts. Now, her status had been elevated! I stared at the leftover strawberry bottoms on the plate. On several of them, I could clearly see the dark green bits of leftover spinach and garlic that had dislodged from Martha’s teeth. Wilted, dark green muck smelling of garlic, stuck to the remaining quarter-inch of fruit… and she wanted me to eat it? Eat my ass! My stomach violently churned with intense nausea! These were my strawberries! This was my house! I was shaking uncontrollably with rage. “AHHH!” I screamed, grabbed the edge of the table, and flipped it into the air! The cute, ceramic piglet plate crashed to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. It looked like it had been violently executed. I grabbed my coat, snatched my purse, and slammed the door behind me. In the fraction of a second before the door clicked shut, I heard David’s panicked voice: “What’s going on?! Emily, where are you going?!” 4 Where was I going? Yeah, where was I going? I lived in this city with no family and no close friends. I had no one to rely on. I only had David. And until recently, I actually thought I had love. What an absolute joke. I was delusional. I walked laps around our neighborhood complex for a long time, letting the cold air calm me down. A decision I had been agonizing over for weeks finally cemented itself in my mind. I dialed the one number that would never, ever reject me. The moment the call connected, I couldn’t hold back my sobs: “Mom, you were right! I’m getting the abortion!” Before I could say another word, my phone was violently snatched from my hand. I could hear my mom’s panicked voice projecting from the speaker: “Emily! Emily, what happened?! Emily!” It was David. He looked absolutely furious as he hung up the call. “Stop acting crazy! It’s such a trivial thing, is this really necessary?!” The tears I had been desperately holding back finally spilled over. I stared at him with pure stubborn defiance. “Give me my phone.” He frowned, extending his arm high into the air. I was six inches shorter than him; I couldn’t reach it. “Can you stop running to mommy and daddy over every little inconvenience? We’re married. If there’s an issue, we discuss it! You literally flipped our dining table, and I didn’t even yell at you. Can you stop throwing a tantrum? You’re making a joke out of us in front of the neighbors. Let’s go home and talk.” I jumped up furiously, trying to snatch the phone from his grip. “Give it to me! I have nothing left to say to you. Go live with your mother!” He raised his arm even higher, getting agitated: “When it comes down to it, you just despise my mom! You are so incredibly disappointing!” 5 I clawed at his arm, jumping wildly to reach the phone. He gripped my wrist tightly, trying to pin me down. That was when Martha came running out of the building. While she was still a good thirty feet away, she suddenly sprinted, dropped to her knees, and did a dramatic baseball slide right across the pavement, stopping right in front of me. Smack! She slammed her forehead onto the concrete. “Oh, my dear daughter-in-law! You’re taking my life away! Please stop jumping around, if anything happens to my grandson, how will I ever face your parents in the afterlife?!” Watching her performance, I completely froze. I knew she was a two-faced actress, playing sweet to my face and talking trash behind my back. But I never expected a theatrical display of this magnitude. David couldn’t handle it. He reached down to pull his mother up. “Mom, what are you doing?!” Then, he turned his head and glared at me with vicious eyes: “Hurry up and help my mom up!” I help her?! I’ll help you straight to hell! Martha used David’s leverage to stand up. She immediately started slapping her own face, over and over again. “I was wrong! I am a sinner! I shouldn’t have eaten your strawberries! Please don’t be mad at me, just come home with me.” David was completely broken by this. Tears were literally welling up in his eyes. “My mom is literally begging you, what more do you want?! I admit I was wrong, okay?! Tomorrow I will buy out the entire farmer’s market so you can eat all the strawberries you want!” Because of their loud, dramatic wailing, neighbors were starting to gather. Seeing that she had an audience, Martha’s acting kicked into overdrive. “I shouldn’t have eaten the strawberries. I don’t deserve to eat them! I didn’t know my daughter-in-law valued those fruits more than my life! Back in our rural village, wild berries grow everywhere in the mountains! If you love them so much, Mom will go pick them for you! Just stop fighting with us, please come home. I came here with a good heart to serve you, but if you can’t tolerate me, I’ll leave! I’ll never come back! I’m just old and useless!” The surrounding neighbors started pointing fingers at me. “Am I hearing this right? Over some fruit? Is she serious?” “Exactly. She couldn’t bear to part with a few bucks worth of fruit. That breaks an old woman’s heart!” “Parents give their absolute all to their kids, and look at how the kids treat them. Can’t even let her eat a strawberry.” “It’s so hard being old! If you don’t help, they say you’re lazy. If you do help, they say you’re a burden. Might as well just die when you get old.” I watched as the crowd threw their judgmental words at me like poison darts. Some people were even pulling out their phones to record me. I couldn’t take it anymore. I screamed at the top of my lungs: “Her! That old hag! She wanted me to eat the scraps she spat out! Strawberries covered in her garlic and spinach spit! If I handed them to you, would you eat them?!” 6 I was going insane. I was shivering with pure anger. I ground my teeth together and glared at David: “Give me back my phone. Give it to me!!!” His eyes were bloodshot. He looked at me with unadulterated hatred. I had never seen him look at me like that before. It was like I wasn’t his wife. I was the murderer who killed his entire family, and he loathed my very existence. I used every ounce of my strength to punch him in the chest: “I told you to give me my phone!” Smack! He slapped me across the face! I fell hard onto the pavement! A second later, my phone started ringing in his hand. He glanced at the screen. Then, using all of his strength, he violently hurled my phone at the concrete. The screen shattered into a million pieces. The ringtone died instantly. Silence. In the fraction of a second before the screen went black, I saw the caller ID: Mom. My mother! I reached my absolute breaking point. Shaking with fury, I used all my strength to spring up from the ground and delivered a brutal kick directly to David’s groin. He let out a horrifying howl, clutching his crotch, and dropped to his knees in agony. I scrambled to grab my shattered phone to run. But Martha grabbed me in a death grip. In the chaotic pulling and shoving, my vision blurred, and everything went completely dark. 7 When I opened my eyes, I was back in the bedroom of our apartment. Beside the bed, David was sitting with his head slumped forward, his hands gripping his hair tightly. I heard footsteps approaching, so I quickly squeezed my eyes shut. “David, you need to eat something. You’re going to break your mother’s heart.” “I don’t want to eat. Mom, shouldn’t we take her to the hospital? It’s been all night. I’m worried something’s wrong.” “Oh, please! I’ve been through this, would I harm my own grandson? She’s fine, pregnant women are just frail. Especially her, she refuses to eat this and that, so picky. You spoiled her into having these bad habits! Plain food builds a strong body. Women these days act like they’re laying a golden egg when they get pregnant. When I gave birth to you, I was still bleeding when I pulled my pants up and went to the kitchen to cook dinner.” David’s voice sounded like he was trying to suppress his panic, wavering unsteadily. “Times are different, Mom. Emily has never suffered a day in her life.” Martha’s voice suddenly dropped her usual sweet facade and became ice cold. “If she hasn’t suffered, then she needs to suffer now. What woman doesn’t suffer? When the baby comes, are you going to carry the burden of this whole house alone? Are you going to serve her every day? She actually dared to kick you! You should have beaten her to a pulp! If you don’t break her terrible habits now, you’ll be the one suffering later. Come eat with Mom! Ignore her! If she doesn’t wake up soon, I’ll take a sewing needle to her lip, I guarantee that’ll wake her up.” After a long pause, the shuffling footsteps slowly faded away. David left the room and closed the door. The room was dead silent. I slowly opened my eyes, feeling like I had just woken up from a terrifying nightmare. 8 David and I were college classmates. He chased me relentlessly for four years. I loved sleeping in, so every morning he would run to the dining hall to grab hot breakfast sandwiches and deliver them to my dorm. When I had an internship fifteen miles off-campus, he rode his bicycle through traffic just to bring me my favorite candied fruit from a street vendor. During the first heavy snow of winter, I opened my curtains to find a massive snowman outside my window, and him standing next to it, his face red from the freezing cold. I knew he came from a poor background, but if he had a dollar, he was willing to spend ninety cents on me. When I finally agreed to date him, our entire department was shocked. Everyone said his sheer willpower and persistence wore me down. The guys marveled that relentless stalking actually worked. The girls were horrified, asking if I had gone legally blind. After graduation, we dated for three years. He took care of my every need. When he proposed, the diamond ring cost him over three thousand dollars. I knew that was money he had saved by working multiple side jobs from dawn till dusk. Even though the diamond was tiny, I was moved to tears. Back then, I deeply believed in a popular saying: Don’t judge a man by how much money he has; judge him by how much of it he is willing to spend on you. I truly believed he would treat me well for the rest of my life. Who cared if he was a little broke? We could build our wealth together. 9 When I told my parents I was going to marry him, my mom fought me tooth and nail. Our relationship became incredibly strained over it. I even slammed my hand on the table and yelled at them: “I only asked for your opinion out of respect! I don’t need your permission to get a marriage license, and you can’t stop me!” My mom looked at me with eyes full of disappointment and heartbreak. She pressed her lips tightly together and didn’t speak for a long time. In the end, they couldn’t stop me. My mom yelled: “Fine! If you marry him, we won’t give you a single dime for the wedding!” I was so arrogant. I told her I didn’t care about their money anyway. But on the actual day I got married, my dad slipped a bank card into my hand. He sighed heavily. “Your mother has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. Whether you understand it or not, she is truly looking out for you. But I sincerely hope you made the right choice. Emily… you are our entire world. Do you know how hard it is for parents to watch their child willingly walk into hardship? Remember, if anything ever happens, call us immediately.” At the time, I was actually thrilled. I thought I had won the war against my parents!!! 10 After he finished his Master’s degree, I compromised and moved across the country with him to this city. The night before we left, I peeked through the crack in my parents’ door. My mom was sobbing against my dad’s chest. “It’s my fault. I raised her to be too naive.” My heart ached, but I swore to myself that I would build a beautiful life and prove that my choice was right. I’d show them. In the beginning, things were sweet. But everything changed the moment I got pregnant and Martha moved in. I always knew he grew up in a rural area. But when we got married, Martha didn’t even attend the wedding. His excuse was that she was in poor health, had never traveled, and it was too far away. I even said at the time: “Then we should go visit her! We’re getting married, I can’t just never meet my mother-in-law.” His eyes darted nervously. “You’ll meet her eventually. The living conditions out in the country are rough, I’m afraid you won’t adapt. My mom is a great person, she won’t mind.” It wasn’t until I got pregnant that my husband said: “We’re both so busy, and you really need someone to take care of you right now. Why don’t I bring my mom out here? She can cook for you. Ordering takeout every day isn’t healthy.” I thought it was a good idea. I planned to treat her like my own mother. I firmly believed I could build a good relationship with her. Reality proved I was dangerously naive. Her “cooking for me” meant that if David was home, there was fresh food. If he wasn’t, she would heat up three-day-old leftovers and serve them to me. If there were a few good cuts of meat in a dish and I grabbed one with my chopsticks, she would literally snatch it from my bowl and put it in her son’s. She constantly tried to brainwash me. She’d say pregnant women who did hard labor had easier deliveries. She’d brag about washing cloth diapers in freezing well-water in the dead of winter. She constantly talked about how tough she was, how much she suffered, and how she sacrificed her blood, sweat, and tears to raise David. Whenever she told these stories, mother and son would stare at each other, eyes brimming with tears! The most infuriating part was that after she memorized my phone passcode, she constantly snooped through my phone. I had reached my limit. I asked David multiple times to send his mother home, saying I didn’t need her taking care of me. He just glared at me coldly: “She is my mother! Blood is thicker than water! Now that I have a good life, shouldn’t she get to enjoy it? Are you disgusted by her?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444436”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel