Category: English

My husband Elias is the heir to the Shadowclaw pack Alpha. In the eighth year of our marriage, a group of Rogues ambushed the pack. Elias and I both died in their attack. When I woke again, we had returned to when we had just started dating. In my previous life, we were married for eight years. Our life should have been blissful, but he adamantly refused to have children. Later, I accidentally learned that he still couldn’t forget his first love, Serena. I was his fated mate. When he first met me, he broke up with Serena and swore on our wedding day that he would only love me for the rest of his life. But I never expected that after marriage, he still loved Serena. After being reborn, I decided to set us both free. We severed our mate bond and never saw each other again, becoming strangers. Eight years later, he had already become the Shadowclaw pack Alpha and announced at an inter-pack banquet that he and Serena would soon marry. Seeing me still attending the banquet alone, he mocked me. “Aisling, I know I’m charming, and you’ve loved me so deeply in both lifetimes that you can’t help yourself, but you don’t have to cling to me forever.” I pretended not to hear and took my son’s hand beside me. Elias’s face instantly turned bloodless, his eyes bloodshot as he demanded: “Didn’t you say you’d only love me for life? How could you have a child with someone else?!”

Eight years later at the joint pack banquet, Elias and I met again. After treating several patients in succession, I was dizzy with exhaustion. Without freshening up, I went straight to the banquet venue. In the crowd, Elias and Serena stood at the center with their fingers intertwined, receiving adoration from various werewolves. “Alpha Elias, you’re truly remarkable! Under your leadership these past years, Shadowclaw pack went from nearly being absorbed to firmly holding the northern territory. You’re a legend among us werewolves!” “Of course! I heard the Alphas from several surrounding packs are lining up to form alliances with him but can’t even get appointments. The meeting gifts alone are in the hundreds of thousands, worth years of our tributes.” “Alpha Elias, I have some resources. For old times’ sake, help me out?” Someone asked with a laugh: “Alpha Elias, seeing how sweet you and Serena are, are you getting married soon?” Serena’s cheeks flushed as she looked up at Elias tenderly. Elias squeezed her hand, his smile confident: “That’s right, February 25th.” Everyone offered congratulations. A werewolf suddenly asked: “Alpha Elias, you and Aisling were so passionate back in the day. Are you still in contact? I remember when you played guitar and sang love songs for Aisling in front of everyone!” Hearing my name, Elias’s smile froze for a moment, his lips pressed tight. But Serena gripped his hand tighter, her voice gentle and gracious: “Elias and I are about to get married. What do you think—has he moved on or not?” Everyone laughed and continued flattering them. But I remembered that the “love songs” the old acquaintance mentioned were what Elias had stayed up countless nights training to prepare when he confessed to me. In my previous life, at my 19th birthday party, I discovered Elias was my mate. And then I completely fell for him. He once cupped my face, his eyes blazing: “Aisling, I’ll marry you, mark you, make you the Luna of Shadowclaw pack!” I believed him and devoted myself wholeheartedly to him. Unfortunately, in my previous life, he deceived me. I walked into the banquet hall with a composed expression. Sharp-eyed old acquaintances immediately noticed me. “Aisling! You’re finally here—you’re late!” “Hey, for such a formal occasion, why didn’t you change into a proper dress? You just came in a casual shirt? Can’t afford one?” “Have you been living so poorly all these years? Do you need me to introduce you to a job?” Several people who saw my simple clothing couldn’t help but mock me. From the moment I appeared, Elias’s gaze locked onto me. I nodded slightly at him as a greeting. He froze, and those wolf eyes that once mesmerized me showed indiscernible emotions. “Aisling, after all these years, you’re still the same as before—no ambition.” Serena gently took Elias’s arm, looked me over, and said softly: “Elias, she hasn’t had it easy, but we shouldn’t keep rubbing salt in her wounds. After all, we’re old friends.” She changed her tone, “But wearing this to a banquet… is a bit casual. A woman over thirty should know to dress decently. I have a spare dress in my car. I’ll give it to you to wear so you’ll at least look presentable.” Her words drew a few low laughs.

Indeed, at that moment I contrasted sharply with them. Serena wore a haute couture gown, exquisite makeup, and a gentle smile. Elias was in a sharp suit, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, hair perfectly groomed, every gesture radiating elite sophistication. And I had just finished an all-nighter treating injured werewolves after a Rogue attack. My face was exhausted, wearing a wrinkled cotton shirt and pants, travel-worn. “Thank you, but no need.” I politely declined and went straight to the buffet area. Treating patients earlier had consumed too much energy. I was now hungry enough to eat an entire cow. Just as I was focused on eating, Elias suddenly walked over and placed a check beside my hand. Two hundred thousand. “This money—for old times’ sake, to help you out. You don’t need to pay it back. Go buy some nice clothes, find a decent job, treat yourself well.” “Aisling, let the past be the past. Don’t keep dwelling on memories.” “If back then… forget it, there’s no point talking about it now.” “What matters is, don’t give up on yourself just because I left, okay? You being like this makes things very difficult for me.” I set down my knife and fork and looked up at him in confusion. I suddenly found it laughable. What sin had I committed in my previous life to make him so decisive yet “merciful” in abandoning me after rebirth? In my previous life, we went from young and passionate to experiencing Shadowclaw pack’s rise and fall together. Shadowclaw pack was still a weak pack at the time. Elias was still the Alpha heir, constantly working to become Alpha, while I wanted to become a doctor and was always studying medicine. At that time, a highly skilled old doctor from another pack appreciated me and wanted to take me as a student. But because I loved him, I gave up the opportunity to advance my medical career and took on the pack’s logistics and medical affairs early on, using my meager strength to support our territory and his reputation within the pack. Time and again when he was injured in Rogue attacks and became dispirited, I shouldered all the treatment and recovery, coaxing and encouraging him with gentle words. I thought he understood my love. But when he was seriously injured once and urgently needed a rare herb for healing, and I showed difficulty because I couldn’t gather enough resources for equivalent exchange, he smashed all the medical equipment on the spot. He yelled at me with red eyes: “Aisling! It’s all your fault! If I hadn’t broken up with Serena, her family’s resources would definitely have brought me great help. I would have already become Alpha! How could I not even obtain one herb!” “Being with you was my biggest regret!” Later, he became dispirited for a long time. His father almost gave up on him and chose another son as the Alpha heir. And I was stabbed to pieces by his words of “regret,” unable to sleep night after night. But I didn’t give up. I wanted to salvage things. I hugged him and begged in a low voice: “Elias, let’s have a child, okay?” But he pushed me away hard, his eyes full of disgust: “I hate you! Having a child with you would make me sick! I will never have a child with you in this lifetime!” Those words were like ice picks piercing through me. The day those Rogues attacked the pack, when their poisoned blade pierced my chest, I actually felt a sense of relief. Now that we’ve both been reborn and tacitly chose to sever our mate bond and become strangers—that’s fine. I pushed the check back, my tone flat: “No need. I don’t need charity from strangers, thank you.”

Elias frowned, looking displeased. “Aisling, what do you mean? I’m a stranger?” I nodded: “What I wear is my freedom, and I can buy it myself. My job is also very respectable, not shameful. And I haven’t failed to move on. Donate this money to werewolves who need it.” His fingers holding the check turned slightly white, but he stood there without moving. Serena quickly walked over. Seeing the check, a flash of understanding crossed her eyes. Her face still wore a proper smile, but her tone had hardened: “Aisling, if you don’t want money, surely you’d accept a real job? I know a medical clinic at a fringe pack that’s short-handed. Five thousand a month. Not much, but you’d learn a skill and could eventually open your own clinic. I’ll give you the contact information for the person in charge. How about it?” I didn’t even raise my eyelids and continued eating. “Thank you, but I’m very satisfied with my current job and don’t plan to change.” Werewolves watching the excitement chimed in: “Aisling, stop being stubborn. They’re being kind to help you—don’t be ungrateful.” “Exactly. Living like this, can’t even afford nice clothes, coming to a banquet—isn’t it to make connections? The olive branch is right in front of you, and you’re still acting proud?” Serena’s face was plastered with a fake smile: “Everyone, don’t say that. Maybe Aisling really does like her current job.” She turned to me, “Aisling, we’re doing this for old times’ sake. Don’t be stubborn for the sake of pride.” I really couldn’t understand where this sense of superiority in forcing money and jobs on people came from. If we were being serious, all these people combined probably weren’t as wealthy as me. “Really no need, thank you.” Serena’s smile remained unchanged, but the contempt in her eyes was undisguised. Elias’s knuckles turned white gripping the check, and he began sneering: “You’re really pathetic! Given an opportunity and you don’t know how to take it—no wonder you’re poor!” This was like a signal. Several ill-intentioned werewolves gathered around. A portly werewolf walked up to me swaying with a wine glass. His eyes looked me up and down lecherously: “Aisling, seeing you so pitiful makes me feel bad. How about this—you let me touch your chest, and I’ll give you a thousand. Too little? I’ll add more.” Other werewolves laughed, and no one stopped him. I frowned. This banquet was truly foul. If I weren’t still waiting for someone, I would have left long ago. I was about to call a server when Elias suddenly grabbed the man’s wrist. His presence dropped dramatically, displaying his Alpha authority, his face terrifyingly dark. “What do you think this banquet is? If you want to throw your weight around, go somewhere else! She’s not someone you can touch!”

The man winced in pain but didn’t dare make a sound. Serena grabbed Elias: “Elias! What are you doing!” Elias’s eyes were ice cold: “I’m helping out, can’t you see? If you’re going to act crazy, I suggest getting your head checked!” He then threw the man’s hand aside. The man didn’t dare provoke Elias and could only glare at me viciously. I was somewhat surprised and glanced at Elias. He would actually help me? Serena could barely maintain her gentle expression and stiffly changed the subject: “I heard the Alpha King and his family are also upstairs. We’re lucky today—we might get to see them.” The werewolves got excited. “The Alpha King? That Caius who became Alpha King before thirty? I heard he married quite early, and the Luna Queen is so well protected she’s never appeared publicly!” “More than that! The Luna Queen seems to be a medical expert with quite exceptional medical skills!” “We might see them in person today? What a treat!” As the words fell, a group of Beta guards escorting a little boy about five or six years old walked into the hall. The crowd instantly erupted. “With this escort, it must be the Alpha King’s son! He’s so handsome!” The lecherous werewolf from earlier sidled up to me again, lowering his voice with foul breath: “Aisling, if it weren’t for Serena and Alpha Elias, how would someone like you ever be qualified to see such important people? If it were me, I’d have thanked them long ago. Just accept the arrangement obediently. Not only can you get that five-thousand-dollar job, but maybe…” His gaze swept over me lecherously, “You could also receive my affection.” I glanced at him coldly, preparing to call the guards. At that moment, the little boy being surrounded scanned the entire venue, and his gaze suddenly fixed on me. His previously expressionless little face instantly bloomed with a huge smile. He broke free from the guards and ran toward me. Under everyone’s astonished gaze, he plunged into my arms. “Mommy! I finally found you—”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379123”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My mother was a witch who once saved the life of the Alpha of SilverFang Pack. After my mother passed away, Alpha Anderson found me and my sister. He told us we could each marry one of his sons. In my past life, Violet chose the Alpha’s heir, Caleb Anderson. But in the end, she was driven out of the Pack. Reborn to the day Violet and I chose our husbands, I discovered I could hear people’s thoughts. I heard Violet think: “This time, I must steal the good husband first.” Then she hurriedly dragged away the gentle husband I married in my previous life. And Caleb, who beat her every day in the past life, was left to me. I smiled. Did she really think the man I married before had good character? I was reborn to the day Violet and I were brought back to SilverFang Pack. In the Pack’s banquet hall, all important members gathered for a welcome ceremony held for us sisters. Alpha Anderson stood on the elevated platform, his two sons standing on either side. One was Caleb Anderson, Alpha Anderson’s eldest son, cold by nature. He had already been chosen as the Alpha’s heir. The other was Lucas Anderson, Alpha Anderson’s second son, gentle by nature. A perfectly measured smile hung on his face. [This time, I must steal the good husband first.] A female voice transmitted into my ears. It was Violet’s voice. I gripped my skirt tightly. Not only had I been reborn, but I could also hear people’s thoughts. And judging from these two sentences from Violet, she had also been reborn. Otherwise she couldn’t possibly say such things. Alpha Anderson’s voice echoed in the hall: “…Violet, Lily, you may freely choose one of my sons to become your mate.” Violet immediately stepped forward. “Lucas looks gentle and kind. May I… may I choose him?” After speaking, she secretly cast me a smug glance. [This life, you can take the beatings for me.] Her thoughts were crystal clear. Alpha Anderson nodded and looked at me. “Lily, since Violet has already chosen Lucas, then you will marry Caleb.” I stepped forward with a smile. “Yes, Alpha. I quite admire Caleb as well.” I turned and stood beside him. Caleb glanced down at me with no emotion whatsoever. Then he looked away, as if I were merely air. [What a beautiful little treasure.] Lucas’s voice came through. I whipped my head around and saw Lucas gently supporting Violet. A chill ran through my body, and I instinctively grabbed Caleb’s hand hanging at his side. His hand was large with prominent knuckles, and warmth transmitted through his skin, unexpectedly hot. He glanced sideways at me but didn’t pull his hand back. Although this man looked quite intimidating, I felt that staying with him was better than staying with that hypocritical psycho Lucas. In my past life, Violet had married Caleb. As the Alpha’s heir, Caleb was very capable and busy with Pack affairs all day long. I heard he was very cold toward his Mate… Violet sought him out repeatedly, but each time she was driven out of his room with injuries. As for Lucas, although his status in the Pack was inferior to Caleb’s, it was still enough to let me live comfortably in the Pack. He accompanied me every day, taking care of me attentively, spoiling me to the bone. Everyone in the Pack knew we had a good relationship. And later, Caleb suddenly died from poisoning. Alpha Anderson suspected Violet did it and drove her out of the Pack. Lucas then inherited the Alpha position. My status in the Pack instantly skyrocketed. Violet was jealous of me. When I went out, she drove into me, and we died together. But she didn’t know that Lucas wasn’t what he appeared to be… Lucas had always lived in his brother’s shadow. On the surface he pretended to be obedient and polite to everyone, but in reality he was a control freak and domestic abuser. He was just very clever—he never hit my face, so outsiders couldn’t tell at all. Every time he beat me savagely, he would then kneel down to apply medicine and beg my forgiveness. I closed my eyes. The pain from my previous life was still so real and clear. I shook my head, telling myself it was all in the past. This life, I must change my originally tragic fate. I want to control my own destiny, to be independent and not rely on anyone.

Violet and I held our wedding ceremonies together. In my past life, we also held them at this same time. Back then, Caleb didn’t come to the ceremony, but Lucas arrived early in the morning. Everyone said he was the more considerate husband. But in this life, Caleb didn’t miss the ceremony. Although he just stood to the side with a cold expression, I breathed a sigh of relief. After all, in the past life when Caleb didn’t attend the ceremony, Violet suffered much gossip and strange looks. But Violet looked somewhat frantic with rage. During the ceremony she kept glaring at me with resentful eyes, thinking: [Laugh all you want. I’ll see if you can still laugh after getting beaten later.] It wasn’t until the end of the ceremony that Violet impatiently said to Lucas: “I love you, Lucas.” Then she kissed his lips. After the kiss, she stared at me with a showing-off look. I knew she wanted to see me embarrassed. But I wasn’t stupid. I wouldn’t act like she did in the past life and leave the scene in anger. That made all the Pack members and Alpha Anderson present unhappy. I remember everyone said Violet wasn’t steady enough and didn’t deserve to be the Pack’s future Luna. So much so that after marriage, Caleb never gave her a kind look, making her suffer terribly in the Pack. I smiled graciously and didn’t rush to show affection in front of Caleb. Instead, I said to the members attending the ceremony: “Thank you all for your hard work throughout this day. I extend my regards to everyone and hope you enjoy the ball that follows.” As soon as I spoke, the murmuring below ceased. Alpha Anderson, seated in the place of honor, looked at me with newfound respect. SilverFang Pack was the most powerful Pack on the continent, deeply concerned with face and reputation. So as the mate of the Alpha’s heir, one must show proper bearing—not just compete for a man’s favor, but also care for the feelings of Pack members. Violet also saw Alpha Anderson’s gaze, and a flash of annoyance crossed her eyes. [How disgusting. I’ll definitely make you embarrass yourself later!] I felt that being able to hear thoughts was really a good thing. Having such a convenient ability made everything so much easier. When it was time for the opening dance, I calmly lifted my skirt and walked toward the center of the dance floor. Violet stared at me intently, counting in her mind [One, two, three.] The next second, I directly sidestepped and reached out to grasp Caleb’s hand. And Violet, who had been rushing toward me with wine, fell hard to the ground, the wine soaking her entire body. “Are you okay?” Lucas hurried to help her up. But in his mind he was criticizing: [What an idiot!] Everyone was looking this way. Alpha Anderson’s face was full of anger. “As the mate of the Alpha’s son, how can you be so careless?” “I’m… I’m sorry, Alpha Anderson. I didn’t mean to.” Violet quickly apologized, but her eyes showed unwillingness. If I were her, in this life I wouldn’t make trouble again—I’d just live peacefully. But she didn’t want me to have it easy, so naturally I wouldn’t suffer in silence either.

Because Violet made a fool of herself, the ceremony ended hastily. Alpha Anderson didn’t give her a kind look from beginning to end. But when looking at me, his eyes were full of approval. Alpha Anderson even instructed Caleb: “You must treat her well.” Because of the Alpha’s instruction, Caleb’s attitude toward me indeed became much warmer. That evening, Caleb actually returned to our bedroom. He opened the door, his face showing fatigue from handling affairs. In my past life, I heard from others in the Pack that Caleb didn’t return on the wedding night. Violet spent her wedding night alone in an empty room and was never marked by Caleb, becoming a laughingstock for everyone. She went to complain to Alpha Anderson but got scolded instead, told she was incompetent and couldn’t gain her own Mate’s attention. I hurried over. “Caleb, you must be tired today.” He only nodded and didn’t speak to me. I wasn’t angry. While Caleb was showering, I made the bed for him and prepared calming tea. Then I tidied up the sofa myself, preparing to sleep there alone. When Caleb came out and saw this scene, a trace of surprise flashed in his eyes. I quickly said: “You sleep on the bed, I’ll sleep on the sofa.” “Lily, are you playing hard to get?” He narrowed his eyes slightly, staring at me. Having just bathed, his chest was slightly exposed with water droplets clinging to it. I had to admit, his physique was truly striking. Worthy of being the Alpha’s chosen heir. I quickly looked away. “No, we didn’t have feelings for each other before. Sleeping together would be awkward for both of us.” “If possible, I’d like to cooperate with you.” “What do you mean?” “I know you don’t have feelings for me. I just want to live peacefully in the Pack—I don’t expect love. So we can maintain our independent lives privately and only maintain appearances publicly. If you find your destined Mate, I can step aside for her.” Hearing my words, he suddenly smiled. “You’re very smart.” “I was thinking the same thing. I can agree to this.” I only learned some herbal knowledge from my mother. I didn’t have the ability or confidence to control the heart of a future Alpha. After all, in the Pack, the members’ attitude toward me largely depended on the Alpha’s attitude toward me. I didn’t want to end up like Violet in the past life, ostracized by everyone. That wouldn’t benefit me at all. And clearly in the past life, there was intense conflict between him and Violet. I didn’t want to provoke him and repeat that mistake. So I chose to coexist peacefully with him. This life, I only wanted to control my own destiny and stand on my own two feet!

To maintain our public image of a harmonious relationship, I posted a photo of us together on social media. When it was time to sleep, he really did sleep in the big bed, leaving me alone on the sofa. He really didn’t know how to be considerate. Well, I should be content. The next morning, I was woken by the sound of Caleb’s morning workout. Early in the morning he was listening to music while doing high-intensity training. Sweat had already soaked his black tank top, outlining his clearly defined abs and bulging arm muscles. His movements were fluid and full of explosive power, each punch and kick accompanied by the sound of cutting through air. He had so much more strength than Lucas’s thin frame. “Stop staring. I’m not interested in you.” He suddenly spoke, ending his training. “Get dressed. Come with me for breakfast.” His subtext was clear: appear together, put on a show for everyone. Actually, I felt he was quite reasonable. Why did he have such conflict with Violet in the past life? After getting ready, I went out with Caleb. As soon as we left, I saw Violet and Lucas walking toward us hand in hand. Violet wore an overly revealing dress, with marks all over her collarbone and shoulders. She deliberately leaned close to show me. Her face was full of pride as she looked me up and down. Seeing that I wore a long-sleeved dress that completely covered my arms and legs, she thought to herself, then smiled smugly. [Wrapped up so tightly, she must have been beaten and is deliberately hiding the wounds.] “Lily, how was last night? You didn’t…” she deliberately inquired. I noticed that Luna Anderson was approaching from the other end of the corridor at that moment. This stern and serious noblewoman most detested improper dress and discussing private matters in public. But I had no intention of warning her. I just smiled. “Violet, according to Pack hierarchy, you should give the Alpha heir’s wife proper respect, not casually inquire about my private affairs.” Her face immediately darkened, and she bit her teeth in defiance. “Caleb never made such demands. What right do you have to demand this of me?” Then she looked at Caleb. “Caleb, say something.” I could feel the powerful, cold pressure from Caleb beside me spreading bit by bit. Lucas cursed in his mind: [Damn idiot, see if I don’t deal with you tonight!] Then he tugged Violet’s hand, signaling her to stop talking. But she remained completely unaware of how serious the situation was. Until Caleb spoke.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379124”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I saved amnesiac Holt Thornton and worked myself to the bone for three years to support him. But after he recovered his memories, he called me a gold-digger who seduced him for money. He let his lover force liquor down my throat, personally signed the papers, and bulldozed the home where we’d survived together. After that fiasco, I had a gastric hemorrhage and lost two-thirds of my stomach. I left with nothing and fled far away. Later, when he learned the truth, he knelt before me with red-rimmed eyes, telling me over and over that he loved me, begging me to come back. I only calmly threw him a medical diagnosis. It said I was dying. Sage’s POV San Diego nights were always dazzlingly glamorous, enough to make your head spin. I stood in the most inconspicuous corner of the ballroom, like an out-of-place intruder. I wore a black evening gown that Holt Thornton had casually told his assistant to buy an hour ago. The size was one size too big, the neckline somewhat loose. But I could only hunch my shoulders slightly, trying hard to minimize my presence. Under the crystal chandelier not far away, Holt was surrounded by a group of business executives. His impeccably tailored cold gray custom suit made his already superior physique look even more striking. He stood with one hand in his pocket, fingers holding a wine glass, occasionally lowering his head to listen to the woman beside him speak, his lips curling into an extremely faint arc. The woman standing next to him was the only daughter of the Davis Corporation, Melanie Davis. She wore the latest custom starlight dress of the season, and the diamond necklace around her neck refracted light that stung my eyes. A perfect match of talent and beauty, made for each other. This was the phrase I’d heard most tonight. “Holt, you’ve had a bit too much to drink tonight.” Melanie’s voice was soft and delicate as she naturally reached out to straighten Holt’s tie. Holt didn’t dodge. He even lowered his head, allowing Melanie’s movements. In that instant, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, even breathing pulled at raw flesh with pain. I unconsciously took a step forward. My high heels clicked on the polished marble floor, making a light sound. The people around stopped their conversations, their gazes falling on me. Melanie turned her head, and when she saw me, a flash of unconcealed contempt crossed her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a gentle smile. “And this is…” Melanie looked at Holt with feigned confusion. The smile on Holt’s face instantly faded. He looked up at me, his eyes cold as ice, as if looking at a thoughtless subordinate. “An assistant.” His thin lips parted, uttering those words. “An assistant.” The word shattered three years of our bond into pieces. I froze in place, my blood turning cold inch by inch. I was his assistant. Yes, ever since he recovered his memory and became the high and mighty head of the Thornton family again, I’d become his invisible household assistant. “Oh, just an assistant.” Melanie smiled meaningfully, picking up a glass of red wine and walking toward me. “You worked hard taking care of Holt tonight. This drink is for you.” She held out the wine glass. I bit my lower lip, about to reach for it. “Oh my!” Melanie suddenly cried out, her wrist tilting, spilling the entire glass of red wine on my ill-fitting black dress. The liquid ran down my chest, utterly humiliating. A few drops also splattered on Melanie’s dress. “Why are you so careless?” Melanie frowned, her tone full of grievance. “This is the dress Holt specially had flown in from Paris for me.” I jerked my head up. “I didn’t touch you at all!” “Enough.” An icy voice crashed down from above, carrying undeniable authority. Holt strode over, pulling Melanie behind him, his brow furrowed as he stared at me. “Holt, I think her nail scratched the back of my hand. It hurts a little.” Melanie nestled behind him, murmuring softly. Holt looked down, seeing an extremely faint red mark on Melanie’s pale hand, and the temperature around him instantly dropped to freezing. He raised his head, looking at me like I was a vicious criminal. “Apologize.” He commanded. “I didn’t push her, and I didn’t scratch her. She spilled the wine on me herself!” I clenched my dress tightly. “Sage, I told you to apologize.” Holt’s voice lowered a few degrees, dripping with impatience. “Don’t embarrass me in a place like this. Where are your manners?” Embarrassing. Manners. These words carved into my heart like knives. I looked at this cold, handsome man before me. He’d forgotten. Three years ago, when he’d injured his brain, penniless and starving, collapsed at my rental apartment door, it was this “ill-mannered” woman who fed him the last spoonful of hot soup. Now, he stood high above, and I’d become the embarrassing stain. I gave a bitter laugh, closed my eyes, and forced back the tears. “I’m sorry, Miss Davis.” With that, I turned and walked out of the ballroom step by step under everyone’s mocking gazes. Without looking back.

Sage’s POV In late autumn San Diego, a torrential rain poured down. I had no umbrella and no car. Holt’s drivers were all outside the ballroom waiting to pick him up with Melanie. I could only brave the rain, walking mechanically forward. The rain hammered my body, bone-chillingly cold, yet it couldn’t match the coldness in my heart. My heel twisted in a puddle, and a sharp pain shot through my ankle. I stumbled and fell heavily onto the muddy sidewalk. My palms scraped raw, mixing with rainwater, the pain drilling to the bone. I lay on the ground, suddenly lacking the strength to get up. It was also a rainy day. Three years ago, on that thunderstorm night, the roof of our little attic leaked, water flooding the floor. It was the second month after I’d brought Holt home. He couldn’t remember anything, only knew his name was Evan. That night, I also twisted my ankle while going downstairs to buy instant noodles, falling into the mud and crying. This man who didn’t even own a decent set of clothes, not even holding an umbrella, rushed downstairs like crazy, pulled me from the muddy water, and held me tightly in his arms. “Don’t be afraid, Sage. Evan’s here. Evan will carry you home.” He carried me on his broad back, rainwater dripping from his strong jawline. He walked very steadily. That day he said. “Sage, whenever it rains from now on, I’ll never let you walk a single step. I’ll be your legs.” Later, to buy me a box of imported medicine for my foot injury, he washed dishes at a restaurant for three days until his hands were raw and swollen. I cried from heartache, but he just smiled and kissed my eyes. “As long as Sage doesn’t hurt, I can endure anything.” The warmth of that memory was scorching, making reality that much colder. I don’t know how long I sat in the rain, until a black sedan sped past me. The wheels ran through a puddle, splashing me with dirty water. By the dim streetlight, I made out the license plate. It was Holt’s car. Through the half-lowered window, Melanie leaned on his shoulder as he turned his head to listen to her speak, his profile showing a gentleness he’d never given me. He didn’t even glance toward the roadside. Naturally, he didn’t see me lying there. I suddenly laughed, tears mixing with rainwater streaming down. Dead. My Evan had died the day he recovered his memory, in that shabby attic. The one alive now was the high and mighty CEO of Thornton Corporation, Holt Thornton. When I limped back to the villa, it was already two in the morning. This mansion covering several thousand square feet on the hillside felt as empty as a gorgeous tomb. I didn’t even turn on the lights, fumbling my way to the bathroom in the dark, rinsing my numb, frozen body with hot water. Water flowed over my collarbone. Below it was a very deep scar. It was left when Evan saved me, taking a thug’s knife meant for me. Back then he held me, blood flowing endlessly, yet still comforted me. “Sage, I’ll keep this scar, so even if you try to run away, you’ll remember me when you see it.” Now, the scar remained, but the person had changed. After showering, I curled up on the large bed, forcing myself to close my eyes. I don’t know how much time passed before the bedroom door was violently pushed open. A man reeking of alcohol and faintly of perfume walked in. Holt yanked off his tie and pressed down on me directly. He didn’t turn on the light, his movements rough without a trace of tenderness. “It hurts…” I frowned, reaching up to push him away. But Holt grabbed my wrists, pinning them firmly above my head. His warm breath sprayed against my neck as he spoke with icy cruelty. “Why did you make a scene at the banquet tonight? Isn’t the money I usually give you enough?” My heart stopped beating. In the darkness, I opened my eyes wide. “Holt, you think I did it for money?” Holt gave a cold laugh, lowering his head to bite my collarbone, right where that scar was. “What else? When you kept an amnesiac me all those years ago, wasn’t it because you saw that million-dollar watch on me, calculating that my identity must be wealthy or noble?” A roaring sound filled my head. I felt something in my brain completely explode.

Sage’s POV I never imagined that in Holt’s heart, my saving him three years ago was a calculated investment. “That watch… you had a high fever and got sick. I sold it to pay your hospital bill.” My voice trembled. “The buyer said it was a fake watch and only gave me two hundred dollars. That day, I donated four hundred milliliters of blood to scrape together your medical expenses.” In the darkness, Holt’s movements suddenly stopped. But his voice quickly grew even colder. “Enough. Stop bringing up those old things to emphasize your contributions. These three years, the material compensation I’ve given you could buy you a hundred of those dumps.” Old things. Those three years of struggling through life and death together, in his eyes, had become dismissible old things. He had no foreplay, possessing me almost like a punishment. I bit down hard on the pillow, not letting out a single whimper. I stared at the ceiling with open eyes. In this sexual encounter, there was only release, no love. After it was over, Holt got up and went to the bathroom. The sound of running water started. I lay on the bed, my whole body aching. On the nightstand, Holt’s phone suddenly lit up. It was a message. The screen wasn’t locked, and the message popped up directly. Melanie: “Holt, I’ve already had people release tonight’s media statement. Your mother loves the buzz about our engagement. Get some rest early.” Immediately following was a design sketch. It was a draft of custom wedding rings from a top-tier brand. I stared at the glaring word “engagement,” my stomach churning, and suddenly leaned over the edge of the bed retching. Holt walked out from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, frowning at me. “What now?” His tone carried undisguised impatience. “If you’re not feeling well, go find the housekeeper to get you medicine. Don’t play pitiful in front of me.” I raised my head. I pointed at the lit phone screen. “You’re getting engaged?” Holt followed my finger, his expression darkening imperceptibly. But he quickly regained his cold demeanor. He walked over to pick up his phone, saying flatly. “Just a business marriage. It’s just a publicity stunt for the two families’ cooperation, to reassure shareholders. You don’t understand these things, so don’t ask.” “I don’t understand?” I laughed. “Holt Thornton, I don’t understand. I don’t understand why, if you’re marrying her, you still keep me locked in this cage. Why did you watch her humiliate me tonight?” “Sage!” Holt’s eyes turned completely cold. “Don’t forget your position. I let you live in this villa, gave you a life of luxury. You should know your place. Don’t compare yourself to Melanie. You can’t compare.” You can’t compare. Yes, what could I compare with? She was a wealthy heiress; I was just a poor woman struggling in the mud at the bottom. “Fine.” I suddenly calmed down, looking into Holt’s eyes. “I understand.” I stopped arguing, stopped making a fuss. He didn’t say anything more, turning to go to the adjacent guest bedroom. The next morning, Holt left early for the office. I’d just started toward the kitchen to pour some water when I heard the butler respectfully open the door. “Madam, you’re here.” Holt’s mother Mrs Thornton walked in wearing haute couture, escorted by two bodyguards. Seeing me in my thin nightgown, her eyes filled with extreme disgust. She walked straight to the sofa and sat down, coldly surveying me. “Sit. I’m here today to inform you.” Mrs Thornton threw a document on the coffee table. I didn’t sit, only stared at the document. “Tomorrow, Holt will officially announce his engagement to the Davis family’s daughter. I don’t want a stain like you existing in the Thornton family’s territory.” Her tone was condescending, like dismissing a beggar. If it were before, I would have firmly told her: I’m with him not for money, and unless he personally tells me to leave, I won’t go. But now, I just stood there quietly. Mrs Thornton sneered. “Don’t expect Holt to protect you either. You really think he still cares about you? He just doesn’t want to dirty his hands getting rid of you. Take a look at this agreement.”

Sage’s POV I stepped forward and opened the agreement. Every word on it crushed what little dignity I had left. “The old city district in the south has already been acquired by Thornton Corporation. Demolition starts tomorrow.” Mrs Thornton toyed with the ring on her finger, her tone casual yet cutting with every word. “That dump you lived in for three years is on the first batch demolition list.” I jerked my head up. “That house… is our last memory.” That thirty-square-meter old house. It had the shelf Evan had nailed up for me with his own hands, the secondhand sofa we’d saved up to buy, and on the wall was the height chart Evan had drawn bit by bit with a pencil for both of us. That was my only home left in this world. “Memory?” She looked like she’d heard the biggest joke. “You used that filthy pigsty to hold my Thornton heir hostage for three years of his youth. You think that’s a memory? I think it’s the Thornton family’s greatest shame!” Mrs Thornton’s eyes suddenly turned vicious. “Sign this voluntary departure statement, take this fifty million, and disappear from Holt’s world forever. That ruin I can decide to leave standing.” “If you still won’t leave…” She stood up, looking down at me from above. “Not only that house, but you won’t survive in this city at all.” I stared hard at the document on the coffee table. My fingers trembled violently. My last shred of resistance was crumbling. I didn’t want to take this money, but even more, I couldn’t let the last traces of “Evan’s” existence be crushed by bulldozers. “Fine.” After a long while, I heard my hoarse voice speak. “I’ll sign. But I don’t want the money. Please don’t demolish the house.” Mrs Thornton was clearly stunned for a moment, then pushed the agreement in front of me, her face full of mockery. “At least you know what’s good for you.” After shakily signing “Sage” on the document, she left with her people in a grand procession. The villa returned to deathly silence. I looked at the calendar. Today was Wednesday. Tomorrow, Holt would announce his engagement. I took a deep breath, changed into clean clothes, grabbed my bag, and left. I wanted to see Holt one last time. Not to beg him to stay, just to say a complete goodbye. I took a cab to Thornton Corporation. The towering skyscraper reached into the clouds. This was Holt’s kingdom now. I walked to the front desk and said softly. “I’d like to see Mr. Thornton.” The receptionist looked me up and down. “Do you have an appointment?” She asked coldly. “No… could you please make a call for me? Just say it’s Sage…” “I’m sorry, too many women come every day pretending to look for Mr. Thornton.” The receptionist cut me off without mercy. “No appointment, no entry. Security, please escort this woman out.” I was forcefully pushed out by security. Just as I was being pushed through the revolving door, a group of bodyguards in suits cleared the way, and Holt walked out of the private elevator. Beside him were not only executives but also Melanie. “Holt, shall we go try on wedding dresses this Friday?” Melanie held his arm, her face radiant with smiles. Holt nodded slightly. Though his expression was indifferent, he didn’t refuse. He looked up and inadvertently caught sight of me being shoved outside the glass doors by security. Our eyes met. I hoped he would stop. But Holt’s brow instantly furrowed. He said something in a low voice to his special assistant Jeff, then escorted Melanie through the VIP passage on the other side and directly got in the car. Not even a second’s pause. Jeff hurried out and stopped me as I tried to move forward. “Miss Sage.” The assistant’s tone was businesslike and cold. “Mr. Thornton says don’t run around everywhere embarrassing yourself. He has an important business dinner tonight and asks you to go home first.” Embarrassing. This was Holt’s only evaluation of me now. I watched that sedan drive away, and finally cried. I didn’t go home. I went to the old city district in the south.

Sage’s POV The old district was cordoned off with warning tape. I bypassed the tape and climbed up that familiar, dilapidated building. I reached the familiar door number and had just taken out my key to unlock it. The enormous roar of excavators sounded outside the building. I ran to the window in terror and looked down. Several large excavators were leveling this area. “Wait! There’s someone inside!” I shouted down at them. But the machinery was too loud. No one could hear me. Half of this building’s load-bearing walls had already been knocked down, and the entire structure was shaking violently. Glass shattered, dust filled the air. These people weren’t starting tomorrow at all. They’d come early today to clear the site! Mrs Thornton had lied to me. Even though I’d signed, she’d never planned to preserve this “Thornton family disgrace.” “Don’t demolish it! Don’t demolish it!” I ran downstairs like mad, rushing in front of the excavator and spreading my arms to block it. The lead worker was startled, quickly stopped the machine, got out, and cursed. “Crazy woman, you want to die? Thornton Corporation bought this land ages ago. It has to be leveled today!” “This is my home!” I screamed. “What home? You don’t even have a property deed. Get lost!” The workers came up to drag me away. I clung desperately to a pillar and took out my phone. At a time like this, the only person I could call for help was the owner of this land. I dialed Holt’s number. Once, he hung up. Twice, he hung up. On the third try, the call finally connected. Only it wasn’t Holt’s voice on the other end. “Hello?” Melanie’s coquettish voice came through the receiver, with a hint of lazy displeasure at being disturbed. “Holt’s in the shower. Miss Sage, be tactful and don’t call at a time like this to spoil the mood.” My brain buzzed, going completely blank. He was at the office this afternoon, and at seven in the evening they were showering. What kind of shower, it was obvious. Overwhelming despair flooded over me like a tide. I clutched my phone tightly. “Melanie, give the phone to Holt, please… help me give him the phone! Thornton Corporation is demolishing the south district houses, and my things are inside!” “Oh, the south district house.” Melanie laughed lightly on the other end. “That was his mother’s idea. But Holt also signed the approval just now. After all, trash from that kind of slum really doesn’t deserve to exist.” Trash. The shelf Evan made with his own hands, the height chart Evan drew. The time we spent keeping each other warm was trash. “He knew…” I murmured, tears quietly streaming down. “He actually knew everything…” The call was mercilessly disconnected. The workers lost patience, yanked me aside, and roughly pushed me to the ground. “Stop wasting time. Start work!” With a tremendous crash, the small attic that held all my love and hope from three years collapsed under the excavator’s swing. In the dust cloud, I lay on the ground. For a moment, I felt my heart had also shattered with this building into fragments, buried in the rubble. I had nothing left. When I left that ruins, the sky had turned completely dark. I walked home in a daze, dragging my feet. My phone vibrated. It was a text from the assistant: “Miss Sage, Mr. Thornton is at Nightshade Club in VIP room 888. He wants you to change clothes and come immediately.” I looked at the words on the screen without saying anything. I didn’t change clothes. I just wore those clothes covered in dirt and dust, put on flat shoes, and took a cab to “Nightshade.”

Sage’s POV The moment I pushed open the private room door. The noise inside came to an abrupt halt. Everyone’s eyes fell on me. Holt sat on the black leather sofa in the center. The lighting in the room was dim and ambiguous. His shirt collar was slightly open, sleeves rolled to his forearms, fingertips holding a half-burned cigarette. Melanie nestled obediently at his side, holding a glass of fruit wine. Seeing me, Holt’s brow visibly furrowed. “What the hell happened to you?” His tone was full of disgust, without a trace of concern. I stood in the doorway looking at him. After a long while, I asked in a hoarse voice. “You signed to have the house in the south district demolished. Is that right?” The people in the room exchanged glances, the atmosphere instantly freezing. Holt stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, looking at me coldly. “That dump should have been torn down ages ago. Didn’t Mom give you compensation? Don’t be so greedy.” “Dump…” I laughed. It looked worse than crying. “That was your favorite place to be! In winter when the wind came through, you’d hold me in your arms all night; in summer with no air conditioning, you’d fan me all night long!” My voice grew louder and louder, my emotions teetering on the edge of collapse. “Holt Thornton, that was our home! How could you… how could you destroy it like garbage!” “Shut up!” Holt’s face turned iron-gray as he stood up abruptly. The men around didn’t dare breathe. “Holt, don’t be angry.” Melanie stood up at just the right moment, grabbing Holt’s arm, then turned to look at me, her eyes full of malicious provocation. “Miss Sage, the past is the past. Holt is going to be the Thornton family head now. How can he keep such an unseemly past?” She poured a full glass of liquor. It was high-proof vodka mixed with red wine. “Since you’re here, have a drink.” Melanie held the glass in front of me. “I heard Miss Sage has a bad stomach, but everyone here is someone of status. Miss Sage should at least give us this much face, right?” Everyone was watching me. I had severe gastric ulcers. Three years ago, to treat Holt, I worked three jobs a day, often eating only one piece of bread all day, and ruined my stomach. During one gastric hemorrhage episode, Evan knelt outside the emergency room crying and slapping himself, swearing he’d never let me touch alcohol again. I turned to look at Holt. “Do you want me to drink too?” If he just said one word, don’t drink. I would forgive him for destroying the house today. But Holt only coldly averted his gaze, sat back down on the sofa, and picked up a glass of wine to swirl it. “Melanie poured you a drink. That’s doing you a favor. Drink it and get lost. Don’t kill everyone’s mood here.” The last steel wire hanging over the cliff snapped. I looked at this familiar yet strange face. Fine. Just fine. I reached out and took that glass of liquor. A flash of triumph crossed Melanie’s eyes. I tilted my head back and downed that glass of harsh liquid without even furrowing my brow. The alcohol cut through my esophagus like a blade, landing in my already fragile stomach. Instantly igniting a raging fire. Bang. I slammed the empty glass heavily on the coffee table. A sharp, twisting pain tore through my stomach, as if something inside was ripping me apart. Large beads of cold sweat broke out on my forehead. But I clenched my teeth and didn’t cry out. I looked deeply at Holt one last time. Without waiting for anyone to speak, I clutched my stomach, bent over, turned, and walked out of the private room. The moment I turned around, Holt’s fingers holding the cigarette trembled uncontrollably. But I didn’t care anymore.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379125”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Our third anniversary. I waited all night. But my husband was with his lover, protecting her baby. He forced me, pregnant, to apologize to his mistress and called me cruel. They forced me to down seven glasses of liquor. Before I passed out from vomiting blood, I told him. “The child in my belly was killed by your own hands. Are you satisfied now?” He knelt and begged for forgiveness like a madman. But he didn’t know that I had already taken the check his mother gave me and flown to a world without him. This time, I would make sure he regretted it for the rest of his life. Natalie’s POV The clock hand slowly slid past midnight. I sat at the empty dining table, staring at the completely melted ice cream cake in front of me. Today was our third wedding anniversary. It was also the day Ethan promised that no matter how busy he was, he would rush home to be with me. But he broke his promise. Outside the window, thunder and lightning raged. Lightning split the pitch-black sky, illuminating the villa’s pale walls in a blinding flash. I took out my phone. The screen was completely empty. Not a single message. Not one missed call. I took a deep breath and dialed the number I knew by heart. The phone rang for a long time before someone answered. “Hello.” The man’s voice carried a trace of fatigue and impatience. “Ethan, when are you coming home? I’m still waiting for you.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but my fingers nervously twisted the corner of my clothes. There was two seconds of silence on the other end. Then, a delicate female voice suddenly came through, tinged with a suppressed sob. “Ethan… I’m scared…” My heart sank suddenly, as if plunging into a bottomless ice cellar. Vivian. It was Vivian again. “Natalie,” Ethan’s tone instantly turned cold, carrying an unquestionable commanding tone. “Something happened with Vivian. She’s been afraid of thunder since childhood, and today she’s very emotionally unstable. I’m not coming home tonight. Go to bed early.” “But today is our-” “Natalie!” He raised his voice and cut me off. “Vivian can’t be left alone right now. Can’t you be understanding? It’s just an anniversary. We’ll have plenty of time to make it up later. Stop being so unreasonable!” Unreasonable? I forced a bitter smile, my eyes burning. In three years of marriage, whenever Vivian made one phone call, even if it was the middle of the night, even if Ethan had a high fever, he would push me away without hesitation and rush to that woman. “Ethan, I’m only going to ask you one thing.” I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting blood. “If you don’t go out today, will you actually die?” “What are you going crazy about?” Ethan was clearly angry. “Vivian has severe depression. If she does something foolish, can you take responsibility? Natalie, when did you become so vicious!” The call was mercilessly disconnected. I stared blankly at the darkened screen, and tears finally broke through like a dam. Vicious? I just wanted my own husband to stay home on our third anniversary and eat a piece of cake with me. And that made me vicious? I stood up and walked to the dining room trash can. I took the cake I’d spent all afternoon making by hand, the one that had burned my hand when I unmolded it, and threw it in, plate and all. Cream splattered everywhere, just like my three year marriage, falling apart into something unrecognizable. At two in the morning, the rain fell even harder. My head felt like it was splitting, and my stomach churned with waves of pain. I already had a stomach condition. Today, waiting for Ethan, I hadn’t had a drop of water since noon. I fumbled to get my stomach medicine from the drawer, only to find the bottle had long been empty. Pain. Piercing pain. I curled up on the sofa, cold sweat soaking through my thin nightgown. I wanted to call Ethan, but thinking of his earlier word “vicious,” my fingertips froze. With trembling hands, I called my assistant Jake. Half an hour later, Jake arrived with an umbrella and took me, nearly unconscious from pain, to the hospital. By the time I was hooked up to an IV, dawn had already broken. The emergency room corridor was cold and deserted, with only the pungent smell of disinfectant making me want to vomit. I leaned against the hospital bed, watching the IV drip down drop by drop, my eyes vacant. “Miss Davis, you really can’t keep putting off this stomach condition. You need to eat on time. Where’s your family? Why are you here alone?” When the nurse came to change my medication, she couldn’t help but ask. “He’s… busy.” I lowered my eyes. Just then, urgent footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor. I instinctively looked up, but the moment I saw who it was, my blood instantly froze. Ethan. He wore the same trench coat he’d had on when he left last night. In his arms, he carefully cradled a woman. The woman buried her face deep in his chest, wearing his suit jacket draped over her. “Doctor! Where’s the doctor? She slit her wrists!” Ethan’s voice carried unprecedented panic and loss of control. This was an Ethan I had never seen. Even when we got married and he read his vows, he had only looked indifferent. But now, for Vivian, even his voice was trembling. The two rushed past my hospital room. Ethan’s gaze was locked on the person in his arms. He didn’t even glance sideways. I stared at that retreating figure, feeling the stabbing pain in my stomach spread to my heart. It hurt so much that even breathing became a luxury.

Natalie’s POV Vivian was successfully resuscitated. Actually, the wound wasn’t deep. The doctor said it only broke the surface skin and didn’t even need stitches, just bandaging. But Ethan acted as if it were a matter of life and death. He insisted on arranging the highest-level VIP room for her and stayed by her side every moment. I pulled out the IV needle and, supporting my weak body, shuffled step by step to the VIP room entrance. The door was ajar. The voices inside clearly hammered into my ears. “Ethan, I’m sorry… I’ve caused you trouble again.” Vivian leaned against the headboard, her eyes red and rimmed with tears that fell like broken pearls. “I was just so scared. The sound of thunder made me feel like the whole world had abandoned me. I know yesterday was your anniversary with Natalie. I shouldn’t have bothered you. You should go back. Natalie must be angry with me…” The more she spoke, the more aggrieved she became, clutching the blanket, her thin shoulders shaking. Ethan sat by the bed and gently reached up to wipe away her tears, his movements so tender they could drip water. “Don’t overthink it.” He softened his voice, his tone full of indulgence and heartache. “Whether she’s angry or not doesn’t matter. Your health is what’s most important. Don’t ever do something this foolish again, understand?” “But Natalie…” “Don’t worry about her.” Ethan frowned, a flash of disgust in his eyes. “If she doesn’t even have this much tolerance, she doesn’t deserve to sit in the position of Mrs. Shaw.” I stood outside the door, feeling as if all the blood had been drained from my body in an instant. Doesn’t deserve. So in my husband’s heart, I didn’t even have the right to be angry. If I didn’t accommodate Vivian, I lacked tolerance and didn’t deserve my position. I took a deep breath and suddenly pushed open the ajar door. “Bang!” The two people in the room simultaneously turned their heads. Vivian shrank into Ethan’s arms like a startled deer, her voice trembling as she called out. “Natalie…” Ethan’s face instantly darkened. He immediately used his body to shield Vivian, as if protecting a rare treasure, and looked at me coldly. “What are you doing here?” His gaze landed on my face but didn’t linger for half a second, only filled with questioning. “Who told you to find this place?” “This is a hospital. Why can’t I be here?” I pulled at my dry, cracked lips and smiled. “Ethan, I’m your wife. Can’t I come visit your ‘little sister’?” I deliberately emphasized the words “little sister.” Ethan’s brow furrowed even tighter. He stood up, strode over to me, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me toward the door. “Natalie, stop being disgusting! Vivian just suffered a shock and can’t handle your attitude. Get out of here right now!” His grip was extremely strong. Already weak, I stumbled when he yanked me, and my knee slammed hard into the door frame. Piercing pain. But I didn’t cry out. I just stared at the man in front of me. “Ethan, I had acute gastric bleeding last night. I was alone in the emergency room on an IV all night.” My voice was very soft. “When you were holding her and shouting for help, did you ever think that your wife was also dying from pain?” Ethan froze for a moment. His gaze unconsciously fell on the back of my hand. There was indeed a bruise there, left from when I’d pulled out the IV needle. A flash of panic crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by irritation. “You’re standing right here, aren’t you?” His face was cold, his voice stiff. “A stomachache. Just take some medicine. Did you have to come here at this moment to play the victim in front of Vivian? Natalie, you weren’t this petty before.” Petty? Playing the victim? I suddenly felt the absurdity of it all. I burst out laughing, laughing until tears came out. “Yes, I’m petty. I’m playing the victim. Vivian barely scratches her skin and it’s life or death, but my gastric bleeding is my own fault, right?” I forcefully shook off Ethan’s hand and took a step back. “Ethan, you disgust me.” With that, I turned and walked away, my spine straight. But only I knew that my heart had shattered into powder at this moment. Ethan instinctively took a step forward, as if wanting to grab me. “Ethan…” Vivian on the bed suddenly clutched her chest and let out a pained moan. “My chest hurts so much…” Ethan immediately stopped and rushed back to the bed. “Doctor! Get a doctor here immediately!” In the corridor, I listened to the anxious shouts behind me, and tears silently fell from the corners of my eyes. This round, I lost again. And I lost completely.

Natalie’s POV Three days later, the Shaw family estate held a banquet. I didn’t want to go, but Ethan’s grandfather, Samuel Shaw, personally called me. I was only able to marry into the Shaw family because he insisted, despite everyone’s opposition. In this family, Samuel was the only person who genuinely cared about me. I put on slightly heavier makeup to cover the haggardness from days of insomnia and stomach pain. As soon as I walked into the living room, the originally lively atmosphere instantly turned cold. Everyone’s gaze fell behind me. I turned around. Ethan had his arm around Vivian’s shoulder and was slowly walking in. Vivian wore a pure white haute couture gown, like a fragile porcelain doll, frail and boneless as she leaned against the man. That dress was a globally limited edition from a certain luxury brand. I’d seen it once in a magazine and casually mentioned it looked nice. At the time, Ethan promised it would be my third anniversary gift. Now, that dress was on Vivian. How ironic. “Natalie, don’t misunderstand.” Seeing me, Vivian immediately pulled away from Ethan as if electrocuted, nervously clutching her dress. “Mr. Shaw said the banquet would be lively. Ethan was afraid I’d be bored alone in the hospital, so he brought me to get some fresh air.” How thoughtful. I watched her clumsy performance coldly and said word by word: “Since when are outsiders allowed at Shaw family banquets?” As soon as I spoke, the surroundings fell silent enough to hear a pin drop. Ethan’s expression instantly sank to rock bottom. He pulled Vivian back to his side, his gaze cutting at me like a knife. “Natalie, watch your words. Vivian is my lifesaver. In this family, she is not an outsider.” Lifesaver. That damned lifesaver again. Years ago, when Ethan was kidnapped, Vivian took a knife for him. Because of that one knife, Ethan worshipped Vivian like a deity, giving her the stars if not the moon. I took a deep breath. Just as I was about to speak, Samuel came down from upstairs with his cane. “What’s all this noise!” Samuel’s authoritative voice echoed through the hall. He walked downstairs, glared fiercely at Ethan, then waved at me. “Natalie, come help me to the dining room.” Suppressing my bitterness, I walked over and supported Samuel. During the meal, the atmosphere was bizarrely tense. Vivian sat next to Ethan like a person who couldn’t take care of herself. She wanted soup, Ethan personally ladled it for her. She looked at the shrimp in the distance, Ethan put on gloves to peel them for her. All his gentleness, all his patience, went entirely to her. And I, the legitimate Mrs. Shaw, was ignored by everyone. “Ethan, I want to eat that salmon.” Vivian pointed at the poached salmon in front of me. Samuel had specifically ordered the kitchen to make it for me. Without even glancing at me, Ethan stood up and placed it in front of Vivian. “Eat more. You’re too thin.” My grip on my chopsticks tightened sharply. “Enough!” Samuel finally couldn’t take it anymore and slammed his chopsticks on the table. “Ethan, do you even see your wife anymore?!” Ethan paused, his tone flat but rebellious. “Vivian’s body is weak. She needs nutrition. Natalie is healthy. She can eat anything.” Can eat anything. My stomach began to ache faintly again. After the banquet ended, Samuel called Ethan to the study. I walked alone to the back garden for air. The night breeze was cool, blowing against my face and clearing my head somewhat. “Natalie.” A ghostly voice sounded behind me. I turned around to see Vivian holding a glass of red wine, slowly walking toward me. Where was the frail, helpless appearance from the dining table? Now her eyes were full of provocation and triumph. “Can I help you?” I looked at her coldly. “Nothing much. Just wanted to thank you.” Vivian walked up to me and looked down at her white dress. “This dress is so beautiful. Ethan said only I deserve to wear it. What do you think, Natalie?” I smiled instead of getting angry. “Someone else’s hand-me-down trash that you treat like treasure. I have nothing to say.” Vivian’s face instantly twisted. “Natalie, what are you so smug about?” She lowered her voice. “You think occupying the position of Mrs. Shaw means anything? Ethan doesn’t love you at all! He won’t even touch you!” “Whether he touches me or not is none of your business. As long as I don’t divorce, you’ll forever be a mistress who can’t show her face in public.” I didn’t back down. “Is that so?” Vivian suddenly smiled strangely. The next second, she violently splashed the red wine in her hand onto her own dress, then grabbed my hand and shoved it hard against herself. Vivian screamed and rolled down the steps. I stood frozen, not yet understanding what had happened, when a dark figure charged over like an enraged leopard. “Vivian!” Ethan shoved me aside, the force so great it threw me directly into the nearby rose bushes. Sharp thorns pierced my palm, and blood immediately gushed out. But Ethan couldn’t see it at all. He picked up Vivian, who lay on the ground crying, then looked up at me with eyes that wanted to kill me. “Natalie, if anything happens to the child in Vivian’s belly, I’ll make you pay with your life!” Like a thunderbolt from clear skies. I sat collapsed in the thorny rose bushes, letting blood drip down, yet feeling no pain at all. Child. Vivian was pregnant. So this was what he meant when he said he wouldn’t even touch me.

Natalie’s POV I don’t know how I made it back to the villa. The wound in my palm from the rose thorns was deep enough to see flesh, dried blood crusted on my pale skin, a shocking sight. But I sat on the sofa, paying no attention. In my mind, I kept replaying Ethan’s furious and cruel eyes when he picked up Vivian, and those words: “If anything happens to the child in Vivian’s belly, I’ll make you pay with your life.” He wanted me to pay with my life. For Vivian’s child. These three years, to cure his stomach condition, I enrolled in cooking classes. To have common topics with him, I stayed up late reading boring business reports. To please his family, I endured countless grievances. I thought even a stone could be warmed. But it turned out the stone was only cold to me. Suddenly, a sharp wave of nausea surged up from my stomach. I rushed into the bathroom and violently vomited over the toilet. I hadn’t eaten anything in the evening. What came up was all acid, and by the end, there were even faint traces of blood. I leaned weakly against the cold tiles, my hand trembling as it touched my lower abdomen. A few days ago, feeling unwell, I had taken a pregnancy test. Two lines. I had planned to tell Ethan this good news on our third anniversary. I thought that with a child, the ice between us might finally melt. But now it seemed everything was a complete joke. Ding. My phone suddenly received a message. I opened the screen. It was a photo from Vivian. In the photo, Ethan was asleep lying against the hospital bed, his hand tightly holding Vivian’s, their fingers interlocked. Beside it was an ultrasound report. Though I couldn’t see the specific data, those two words were particularly glaring: Early pregnancy. Then a voice message came through. I opened it with trembling hands. “Natalie, the doctor says the baby is very healthy. Ethan said once he settles things with you, he’ll give me and the baby a proper home. You’ve occupied him for three years. It’s time to be sensible and give up your position. After all, the person who isn’t loved is the real third party.” The person who isn’t loved is the real third party. These words were like a rusty dull knife, repeatedly pulling and cutting at my heart, so painful I could barely breathe. I opened my contacts, looked at the name “Ethan,” and called. After three rings, it was answered. “Are you ever going to stop?” The man’s voice on the other end suppressed anger, even deliberately lowered to avoid waking the person beside him. “Vivian just fell asleep. What game are you playing now?” I took a deep breath. “Ethan, is it true she’s pregnant?” There was an eerie silence for a few seconds on the other end. “Yes.” Ethan’s voice no longer hid anything, carrying a kind of reckless indifference. “Since you already know, there’s no need for me to hide it. This child was an accident, but since it exists, I have to be responsible.” “Responsible?” I laughed. “You’re being responsible to her. What about me? I’m your wife. You cheated during our marriage and got someone else pregnant. Don’t you feel even a bit sorry for me?” “Natalie, don’t use that victim tone with me!” Ethan completely lost his patience. “If my grandfather hadn’t threatened to die, do you think I would have married you? These three years, you’ve held the title of Mrs. Shaw and enjoyed wealth and privilege most people never experience. What more do you want? I haven’t even settled with you for pushing Vivian tonight. You’d better behave!” “What if I said I didn’t push her at all?” My voice trembled. “Enough! I saw it with my own eyes. Can that be fake? You’re hopeless!” The call was once again mercilessly disconnected. I closed my eyes. Tears silently slid from the corners, shattering into a puddle on the cold tiles. I thought I would be hysterical, thought I would break down crying. But when this moment truly arrived, I found my heart was completely hollow. All my expectations, all my love, crumbled at his words “hopeless.” Early the next morning, I went to the hospital. But not to the VIP ward. I went to the obstetrics department. On the way out this morning, my mind was in a daze. I fell down the stairs and miscarried on the spot. I cried my heart out. I’m sorry, baby. Mommy can’t bring you into this world to suffer. Your father has already given all his love to someone else. Rather than have you born unwanted, it’s better you never appeared at all. From now on, Ethan and I are finished.

Natalie’s POV After the miscarriage, I left the hospital and went straight back to the villa. This house I’d lived in for three years was filled everywhere with traces of my careful arrangement. The plants I’d personally grown on the balcony, the throw pillows I’d chosen for the sofa, even the matching couple’s mugs on the coffee table. I thought this was home. It was actually just a gilded cage. I walked into the bedroom and pulled out the suitcase from the bottom of the closet. I didn’t take any of the designer bags or expensive jewelry Ethan bought me. Only the few old clothes I’d brought when I came, and some necessities. When I reached the nightstand, I saw that velvet box. Inside was the wedding ring. A diamond the size of a quail’s egg, dazzling and brilliant. When we got married, Ethan had his assistant randomly pick out the ring. He said he was too busy and didn’t have time to try it on. I removed the ring and placed it in the box, gently closing it. Everything was over. I sat at the desk and took out a document I’d drafted long ago from the drawer. Divorce Agreement. Without a moment’s hesitation, I signed “Natalie Davis” in the wife’s signature column. I had not a shred of reluctance. I asked for nothing and left with nothing. As long as I could escape this man, I found even a single penny dirty. After neatly placing the divorce agreement and wedding ring in the most visible spot on the dining table, I dragged my suitcase to the entryway. Just then, the door suddenly beeped open. Ethan walked in, travel-worn. He still carried the smell of hospital disinfectant, exhaustion written all over his face. Seeing me standing in the entryway holding a suitcase, his brow instantly knotted into a tight frown. “What are you making a fuss about now?” Ethan looked at me coldly, his tone full of impatience. “Vivian’s been in the hospital these past few days preserving her pregnancy. I don’t have time to come back and perform this running-away-from-home act with you.” He stopped in front of me, his gaze sweeping over the cheap old suitcase in my hand, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes. “What? Upset I didn’t spend time with you, so you’re using this trick to force me to give in?” He loosened his tie and casually tossed his suit jacket on the sofa. “Natalie, can’t you be more mature? Vivian is pregnant and her body is very weak. I was there taking care of her, not playing around. Can’t you be understanding and stop causing trouble at times like this?” Understanding. Causing trouble. Looking at this man I’d loved for seven years and been married to for three, I only felt he was terrifyingly unfamiliar. I suddenly felt like laughing, and I actually did laugh. “What are you laughing at?” Ethan was extremely irritated. “Nothing.” I shook my head, looking at him like a complete stranger. “Ethan, I’m not making a fuss, and I’m not performing. I’m really leaving.” “Leaving?” Ethan seemed to hear the world’s biggest joke. He stepped closer, looking down at me from above. “Natalie, without me, you don’t even have the capital to survive in this city! The moment you walk out that door, tomorrow you’ll come crawling back like a dog begging me to let you return!” I looked at him without arguing, just quietly looking. “Say whatever you want.” I gripped the suitcase handle tightly. “I’ve left everything behind. The divorce agreement is on the dining table. I’ve already signed it. Whenever you have time, we’ll go process it. If you’re not available, you can have your lawyer contact me.” Ethan froze. He instinctively turned to look at the dining table. There was indeed a document there, with that familiar velvet box on top. “Fine. Very good.” Ethan laughed in anger, pointing at the door. “Natalie, you brought this on yourself. Step out that door, and don’t ever expect me to look at you again.” “That suits me perfectly.” Without any hesitation, without even looking at him again, I walked past him, pushed open the door, and left without looking back. Bang! The security door slammed shut behind me with a heavy thud. Inside the villa, silence fell like death. I stood outside the door and took a deep breath. I didn’t look back. Because I truly didn’t love him anymore.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379126”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

A New York tycoon named Holden Lancaster sponsored two poor students. One was the pure and innocent Charlotte Shaw. The other was me—beautiful on the outside, but supposedly brainless. The difference was that the former was someone he begged on his knees to sponsor. The latter was me, who shamelessly begged him for help. Years later, I became Holden Lancaster’s secret lover. And Charlotte returned from studying abroad. At nine PM, while Holden and I were having sex and he was about to change positions. I caught a faint whiff of gardenia perfume on the back of his neck. At that moment, my scalp tingled. I realized almost instantly— Charlotte was back. She had once stepped on my finger bones with her dance shoes in the studio. Cheerfully cut up my practice clothes with scissors in the changing room. And cursed me out as a shameless seductress in front of everyone. The scent drifting from her body was this same disgusting fragrance. Holden bit my ear, his eyes full of desire. I instantly lost all interest. I pushed him away. “I don’t want to do this anymore.” Holden indulged me, lighting a post-sex cigarette and laughing. “Tsk, which one of us is supposed to be the sugar daddy here?” That scent still lingered on him. I opened my mouth, about to ask about it. His phone rang. A weak female voice came through the receiver. “Holden, I drank too much and my stomach hurts. Can you come pick me up?” “If it’s not convenient, never mind…” Holden’s expression changed instantly. He hung up the phone and brushed me off without leaving a trace. “Something urgent came up at the company. Go to sleep early.” Watching his panicked, retreating figure, I lay in the darkness with my eyes open. Suddenly I remembered a few things. When I first received his sponsorship, rumors that I was being kept spread throughout the entire school. I anxiously explained to everyone, but Holden took a phone call and told me: Forget it. The year I graduated, I received a spot to study abroad. Charlotte wanted to go too. Holden looked at me affectionately and said: Eve, stay by my side. In my third year with Holden, I got pregnant. An overseas call came in. Holden said with difficulty: Get rid of it. Now isn’t the right time. And now, I’d slept in the same bed with him for over a thousand nights. But I still couldn’t compete with one phone call from Charlotte. Half an hour later, Holden’s close friend posted on social media. A photo with a location tag. Caption: [True love conquers all! Congratulations to Holden for finally winning over his one true love!] In the picture, Charlotte nestled in Holden’s arms as he kissed her forehead. The usually wild and reckless man’s eyes held no trace of frivolity, only tenderness. Just a kiss. I clenched my fists, letting my nails dig into my flesh. Telling myself not to care. In all of New York, seven whole years of support—what was one kiss? Just as I was about to put down my phone. A notification popped up on Instagram: Charlotte followed you.

She wanted me to search for clues on her Instagram. So I obliged. I discovered— On Christmas Eve, my birthday, he didn’t come home not because he couldn’t, but because he was abroad making apple pie with Charlotte. When I had a fever of 104 degrees and a concerned neighbor called an ambulance, he boarded a red-eye flight because Charlotte had a nightmare. Six months ago, when I passed out on set from period cramps, he was making chocolate in Charlotte’s apartment. I scrolled down bit by bit. My finger swiped rapidly across the screen. Calm, as if I were an outsider to whom this had nothing to do. Until I saw one particular photo. My heart suddenly plummeted with pain. Japan, in a snowstorm. They were in snowy Hokkaido, soaking in hot springs and sipping fine wine. Holden reached under Charlotte’s arms, lifted her up, and carefully tossed her into the thick snow. He was laughing so happily. I had never seen such an unrestrained smile on Holden’s face. Charlotte’s caption: [Even this rigid iceberg melts for me.] The date in the bottom right corner of the picture was glaring. That day, I lay alone in a cold operating room, having my child removed. After the abortion, I felt completely hollow inside. I asked him when he’d be back from his business trip. He only replied with one word: Busy. A rumble of thunder. Raindrops violently struck the window, pulling me from my memories. The rain was pouring down. He wouldn’t be coming back tonight. I turned off my phone to go to sleep. Charlotte’s message popped up at just the right moment: “Eve, Holden’s drunk. Can you come pick him up?” In the end, I still went. When I arrived at the private room, they were playing Truth or Dare. Holden’s buddies chimed in one after another. “Holden, you waited for Charlotte for so long, and finally got what you wanted.” “What about Eve… how do you plan to handle that?” Holden’s expression darkened. “What? You got your eye on her?” “I wouldn’t dare!” The man sneered. “Holden’s woman—who would dare touch her?” “Seven years ago you got with her to practice your bedroom skills. Our Charlotte is really blessed now.” “But after sleeping with her for so many years, you must have learned some techniques, right?” I looked at them coldly, my heart colder than being thrown into an ice cellar. Holden’s words were like a dull knife, viciously cutting into my heart. “Want to know? You could try her yourself.” Amid the laughter, Charlotte’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Oh my… don’t you people have any shame? Eve isn’t that kind of person!” “If she hadn’t given me her study abroad spot, maybe right now she’d be returning home with both academic and career success.” “How is she not?” Someone picked up the thread. “Holden, what do you say?” The private room fell silent. Holden smirked. “She came to my door herself. I did have a pretty good time.”

Holden wasn’t wrong. Between us, I really did deliver myself to his door. During my sophomore year, the entire Arts Academy was buzzing that New York’s Mr. Lancaster was pursuing Charlotte. Tens of thousands of fireworks, declarations of love at lavish parties, luxury handbags arriving until her hands went soft. His methods of courtship were always spectacular. No woman could refuse. Except for Charlotte, the proud poor student. She threw the card on the ground and stomped on it hard, her face full of shame and anger. “I may be poor, but I have my pride.” “I’d rather you kill me than accept your dirty money!” After she left, Holden wasn’t annoyed. He just raised an eyebrow slightly, the expression on his face obvious. Woman, you’ve successfully caught my attention. That day, I received news of my parents’ death in a car accident. After returning to my hometown for the funeral, working three part-time jobs in rotation, starving and famished— I picked up that card that had been crushed under dance shoes. “Mr. Lancaster, isn’t sponsoring anyone the same?” “Why don’t you sponsor me instead?” Holden’s eyes swept over my face, my chest, my slender waist. He quickly had someone draft a sponsorship agreement. He would support my continued education, and I needed to obey all his commands. From that day on, Charlotte always looked at me with subtle contempt. She coldly watched me get into Holden’s luxury car, watched as Holden transferred to me all the treatment he’d given her. The next day, rumors that I was being kept spread throughout the school. She made a big show of telling the entire Arts Academy that I was a shameless slut with no parents to teach me manners. I kept my head down and said nothing. Counting down the days until I could leave. Even Holden had probably forgotten. The seven-year agreement—today was only seven days from the deadline. When the party broke up, it had just passed 2 AM. Holden opened the private room door, saw me, and a smile spread across his lips. His tall body drunkenly lunged at me, pulling me into his embrace. “So obedient today? You knew to come pick me up.” Those lips that had kissed Charlotte moved close to my ear, about to kiss me. I subtly dodged. “The rain was too heavy. I was afraid you couldn’t find your way home.” In the car, he watched Charlotte’s retreating figure and said casually. “Charlotte’s back in the country. She doesn’t want to see anyone else around me.” “Eve, you should find yourself a boyfriend when you have time.” I nodded. “Okay.” His smile froze slightly. He turned sharply to look at me. “With me as your standard, don’t find some worthless man and embarrass me.” “How about I introduce you to someone?” Holden’s face showed several shades of anger. “My buddy, the second young master of the Brown family—a ladies’ man who loves women with flexible waists in bed.” “Or the third young master Smith—a bit mediocre, and he has a fiancée in name only, but for a man, that’s normal.” “If you’re with them, at least I can rest easy…” I calmly interrupted him. “Holden, my parents named me Eve.” “They hoped I would always be happy and joyful, not that I should use my body to please men.” I looked out the window, my voice not loud but very clear. “So—” “From now on, I only want to please myself.”

That night, Holden was startled by the look in my eyes. He could only pretend not to care and change the subject. He lay beside me and quickly fell asleep, breathing evenly. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I found that card from the inner compartment of my wallet. In all my years as a dance performer, I had never slacked off for a single day. Dancing during my period, doing wire work, rock climbing—whatever was dirty or exhausting, I took it. Because I understood. Only money was my greatest source of confidence. Seven years, seventy million dollars. I wanted to return it to him with interest. Currently only one final payment remained. The next day when I arrived on set, I saw Charlotte. She wore high heels, a screenwriter’s work badge around her neck, and intimately grabbed my wrist. Feigning surprise. “Eve? I never expected to see you here.” I pulled my hand back, smiling without warmth. “What bad luck—we just saw each other last night.” “Thanks to you, my old friend, keeping him entertained. Holden slept very well last night.” At those words, Charlotte’s smile froze on her face, jealousy rapidly spreading from her eyes. Sure enough, Charlotte added a kissing scene before filming started. The director looked troubled. “Miss Shaw, Mr. Lancaster specifically instructed that Eve has three no’s.” “No kissing scenes, no bed scenes, no intimate scenes.” “This… we can’t really go against his wishes.” Charlotte smiled slightly. She seemingly casually made a phone call, and after chatting for just a few sentences, the director received instructions. “Let’s start filming. Everything follows Miss Shaw’s wishes.” Meeting my gaze, her smile carried provocation. “This is what makes a good actress professional, Eve. Don’t you agree?” I spoke: “I have no objections.” My co-star was still young, his face flushing red with embarrassment. Before filming, I said expressionlessly to comfort him: “Excuse me.” The next second, under the photography lights, I stood on my tiptoes, wrapped my arms around the young man’s neck. And kissed him, light as a dragonfly touching water. The scene was beautiful. Holden witnessed this with his own eyes. “Bang!” The photography equipment was kicked over. He forgot he’d come to pick Charlotte up from work, forgot what he’d said last night, and strode forward amid everyone’s terrified gazes. He forcefully dragged me to the car. The sound of the car locks clicking was accompanied by the sound of my sundress being torn open. “What? Already found your next meal ticket?” “You kissed him? What’s your next step together?” “Did he touch you? Does he know where you’re most sensitive? Has he been… here?” “Slap—” Unable to bear it any longer, I slapped him across the face. Holden was stunned by the blow. I pulled up my zipper and looked calmly into his eyes. “The kissing scene was Charlotte’s idea. The director got your approval too.” “And yesterday, you told me to find someone else.” “You knew, you acquiesced, you allowed it, and now you’re having a fit with me?” His lips moved, wanting to explain something. But I laughed. “Holden, I have no obligation to remain chaste for you.”

The cold war began. For an entire week, I didn’t appear before Holden. Instead, his romantic affairs with Charlotte made entertainment headlines multiple times. [First Love Returns, Mr. Lancaster Furious for His Beauty!] He allowed her to use the Lancaster Group’s reputation to establish herself in the screenwriting industry. He indulged her bidding wars at auctions, sent her roses throughout the city, cooked for her with his own hands. Holden showed his affection openly, afraid no one would know. I watched coldly, packing up all my belongings in the apartment. Then I called a courier service and had the card, along with the sponsorship agreement I’d signed seven years ago, delivered by a delivery driver. Dragging my suitcase, I found myself somewhat laughable. After all these busy, rushing years in New York, I had nothing left behind. Seventy million dollars, my seven years of youth. I returned it all to him. Before leaving, I walked into a shopping mall in a daze and stopped at a jewelry shop. A pink diamond sparkled with a hazy glow under the display lights, like a rose wrapped in moonlight. The string of zeros on the price tag killed my impulse. Just as I was about to leave, I ran into Holden and Charlotte. Charlotte also had her eye on it at first glance. The sales clerk immediately fawned over them. “Mr. Lancaster has such good taste! This pink diamond is the only one in all of New York, extremely rare!” Holden’s hand wrapped around Charlotte’s waist, his lips curving upward. But his eyes looked straight at me. “What worthless trinket? My fiancée likes it—that’s its honor.” Fiancée? My heart trembled. I stopped in my tracks. In the past, when things got intense, I’d curl up in Holden’s arms crying like a walnut over Korean dramas. Back then I felt a bit giddy. “If someone proposed to me with a unique ring in the world, I’d definitely say yes.” The man had kissed my fingertips carelessly and laughed. “That’s all it takes?” In the end, that pink diamond was placed on Charlotte’s slender finger. She held Holden’s arm, smiling graciously. “Eve, I’ve always considered you a friend all these years.” “Now that Holden and I have found happiness, you need to work hard too!” I smiled woodenly. “Congratulations on your wedding. I wish you and Mr. Lancaster a happy marriage.” Just a few steps out of the shop, someone grabbed my wrist and pressed me against the mall’s fire escape. He leaned in abruptly, his burning kiss falling on my collarbone. “What did you mean by that just now?” I tried to pull my hand away but couldn’t. The anger I’d suppressed for so long ignited in my heart. I kicked hard at his groin. “Exactly what I said.” “Can’t Mr. Lancaster understand plain English?” His expression instantly turned cold, his teeth clenched. “Eve, think carefully.” “Take this step, and we’re completely done.” I made a sound of acknowledgment, walked steadily, and never looked back. The moment I boarded the plane. I blocked all of Holden’s contact information. Then I snapped my SIM card in half and threw it in the trash. At the same time, at a wild party in some high-end venue, Holden sat alone in a corner. He poured drink after drink into his stomach, his eyes quickly turning bloodshot. Charlotte stood up amid everyone’s encouragement, her face flushed. “Holden, I have something I want to say to you.” Just then, a security guard knocked on the door and respectfully presented a package. “Mr. Lancaster, this is something Miss Eve sent you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379127”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I’ve been married twice. Before marrying Ethan Grant, I explained to him: “The first marriage was to help my childhood friend Xavier Cole fight for his inheritance.” “The second marriage was to help my good friend Mason Steele avoid an arranged marriage.” “If you mind—” He grabbed my hand, his eyes red-rimmed as he interrupted: “I don‘t mind. But from now on, you can only have eyes for me!” After we married, he was tender and considerate toward me. I thought I’d finally married the right person. But the day I returned from a business trip, I heard him talking familiarly with my two ex-husbands in the living room: “She‘s an old pro at divorcing—she’s done it twice already.” “Just give her the divorce papers on April Fool’s Day!” “Then come back later and tell her it was just an April Fool’s joke—problem solved.” “Vivian‘s wedding is next week. We made a promise back in senior year—for her bachelorette party, all of us have to be single!” I stood outside the door, my hands trembling. When Ethan brought me the divorce agreement, I signed it without hesitation. Later, when Ethan wanted to remarry me, I was already six months pregnant: “You thought the divorce was just an April Fool’s joke? I was serious!”

I sat in the coffee shop across from our apartment complex for an hour. I waited until they‘d dispersed before finally heading home. When Ethan saw me return, he set down his phone and came over to take my luggage: “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back? I could have picked you up.” He took the suitcase with one hand and wrapped his other arm around my waist. Tender and considerate, exactly like always. “Have you eaten?” “Yes.” He nodded, then seemed to remember something: “Oh right, there‘s something I need to discuss with you.” I set down what I was carrying and turned to look at him. He sighed and pushed a document toward me: “The company’s run into some trouble lately. We need to separate our assets. The lawyer suggested we file for divorce first—just as a formality.” I looked down—divorce papers. In such a short time, he‘d already prepared everything. “Once things blow over, we’ll remarry.” He gripped my hand, his tone sincere. “It‘ll only be a few months.” I fell silent for a moment. “I know this is sudden,” he squeezed my palm, then suddenly lowered his voice with a hint of indignation, “but Xavier and Mason called today and kept needling me. They said when you helped them, you didn’t hesitate, but with me it‘s somehow a problem.” “They even said that after divorcing twice, a woman wouldn’t dare divorce a third time. They said you definitely wouldn‘t be able to handle it.” “I’ve already thought it through—tomorrow happens to be April Fool‘s Day. We’ll choose that day to file, then wave the certificate in their faces and scare the hell out of them. Let‘s see if they ever dare look down on you again.” “After all, it’s April Fool‘s Day—anything can be passed off as a joke. Once the company situation settles down, we can legitimately get our certificate back. No one will say anything.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with both grievance and anticipation: “You won’t let them look down on me, will you?” I looked into his eyes for a long time. These flawless, devoted eyes had just been toasting with those two men, saying “she won‘t make a fuss.” “I won’t.” I gave him what he wanted. He visibly relaxed, though he quickly disguised it as surprised delight: “Then you should rest first. Tomorrow‘s the first of the month. After we sign the papers, we’ll go—” I took the pen, flipped to the last page, and signed my name cleanly. “Call them,” I said with a smile as I set down the pen. “Tell them to stop nagging.” Ethan froze, apparently not expecting me to agree so readily. He smiled, put away the papers, then leaned in to kiss me. “You‘re the best wife.” I let him kiss me, my heart as calm as stagnant water. He took the agreement to his study to make a call. His voice wasn’t loud, but through the door, I could still hear. “She signed.” Xavier‘s voice came faintly through the phone: “See? I told you—Sophia’s the easiest to handle.” “Alright, you guys keep Vivian steady on your end. I‘ll head over once I’m done here.” I sat in the room for a long time. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Mason: Haven‘t seen you in a while. Want to get together? I stared at that message for a long time. Before, I would have replied “sure.” I would have carefully considered what to wear, how to do my makeup. I would have thought about how to preserve Ethan’s dignity in front of them, to let them know I‘d married well. To make sure they wouldn’t hold grudges against Ethan. After all, one side was my childhood companions, the other was my beloved husband—both were people I valued deeply… I didn‘t want them to remain adversaries for life. But now, I couldn’t even be bothered to reply. I simply turned my phone face-down on the coffee table and stood up to collect the laundry from the balcony. As I passed the study, Ethan was still on the phone. His voice was very low, but carried a kind of relaxed ease I‘d never heard before. That ease sounded like he no longer needed to pretend or perform. I suddenly realized that in all our time together, he’d never spoken to me like that. The wind on the balcony was strong. I took the clothes off the hangers one by one, folded them, and placed them in the basket. As I finished with the last piece, my phone lit up again. This time it was Xavier: Heard you‘re getting divorced again? Ethan’s such a jerk. He doesn‘t deserve you. Don’t be sad. Your grandfather‘s eightieth birthday banquet is in a few days. Mason and I will attend together. Let’s have a proper reunion! I laughed dryly. How nice of him to say. As if he weren‘t the one strategizing in the living room earlier. I pressed the power button and shoved my phone in my pocket. I suddenly wanted to know what kind of person Vivian Lane was. To be worth the three of them scheming so elaborately to keep a promise. To be worth them treating me so casually as a tool to achieve their goal. But then I thought—there was no point. It didn’t matter anymore. I picked up the laundry basket and turned to go back inside. My steps didn‘t pause as I passed the study. Warm yellow light spilled through the crack in the door. This lamp, this home, this man— Starting tomorrow, they’d have nothing to do with me.

I‘d just set down the laundry basket when the doorbell rang. I went to answer it, but Ethan got there first. The person standing outside had flushed cheeks, clearly having drunk quite a bit. She smiled when she saw Ethan: “I knew you’d still be awake.” Ethan instinctively glanced back at me, then lowered his voice: “Why are you here?” She didn‘t answer, swaying unsteadily as she walked inside. Not until she saw me standing in the living room did she pause. “Oh, you’re here too.” Xavier caught her from behind and explained to me: “Sophia, she‘s had too much to drink. We were taking her home, but she insisted on coming here.” Mason stood in the doorway, his expression somewhat uncomfortable as he glanced at me. Then his gaze swept to Ethan, his tone turning sharp: “Ethan, your wife is home. Don’t you know how to avoid suspicion?” Ethan froze for a moment, then frowned and shot back: “You got her this drunk and brought her to my place, and you want me to avoid suspicion?” “I got her drunk? It‘s because you posted that ’newly single‘ status!” Mason let out a cold laugh and stepped aside. “Fine, you’re so noble, so proper. I‘ve delivered the person who got drunk over you. Do what you want.” The two men stood on either side of the door. The air seemed frozen. Xavier, caught in the middle, coughed awkwardly: “Alright, alright, stop fighting. Vivian just came by since it was on the way—” I stood in the center of the living room, watching this performance from start to finish. They were too coordinated. If I hadn‘t personally heard them toasting together, I might have believed their mutual hostility was real. All along, I’d thought the bond between Xavier, Mason, and me was unbreakable. At my most loyal, I‘d even married both of them. My parents died early, and my grandfather was always busy. Those two filled my entire childhood and adolescence. Xavier was there whenever I had troubles in school. Mason even took a knife for me from a kidnapper. To me, they were closer than family. But when did our ironclad triangle become like this? Probably starting in high school, the year Vivian Lane appeared. A new circle formed outside our group. I gradually became the neglected remnant. Only when they needed my help would they remember me… I withdrew my gaze, no longer looking at them. Some cracks weren’t formed today. I just chose to see them today. “Your timing is perfect. There‘s something I’d like you to witness in person.” I walked to the coffee table and picked up the divorce agreement: “Two copies, I‘ve already signed both. Since everyone’s here, might as well look them over clearly.” Ethan‘s expression shifted slightly, but he quickly caught on. By bringing up the divorce in front of Xavier and Mason on my own initiative, I was proving to them what I was willing to do for him. His eyes showed a hint of pride. “Sophia,” he walked over, his tone soothing, “we can discuss this privately. There’s no need—” “Since she‘s already brought it out,” Vivian suddenly spoke up, “can I ask—when are you moving out?” The living room fell silent for a moment. Ethan frowned. Vivian didn’t look at him, only at me, her expression innocent: “After all, this house is in my name. You can‘t keep living here forever, right?” I froze. The house was in her name? I instinctively looked at Ethan. He avoided my gaze, his throat bobbing, but he didn’t contradict her. In that instant, countless images surged through my mind. The day we moved in, he held my hand and said “this is our home.” When buying the house, he said “I‘ll handle the paperwork, you don’t need to worry.” I happily took charge of choosing curtains, sofas, and the dining table… Every piece of furniture here—I‘d made trip after trip to the home goods store to pick them out. Everything was arranged according to his preferences… I’d never cared whose name was on the deed. But I never imagined that our marital home would be in another woman‘s name! I looked down at the agreement in my hands and laughed. “I’ll leave now.”

“Sophia…” Ethan took a step forward. “Tomorrow at nine, City Hall.” I didn‘t turn around, pulling my suitcase to the door—changing shoes, opening the door, all in one smooth motion. The hallway lights brightened then dimmed. While waiting for the elevator, I could still hear voices from inside: “Not bad! She was even more cooperative than when I asked her to get married!” Laughter mixed with voices exploded dully behind the door. I stood by the elevator, listening to this unfamiliar story. The reflection in the mirror looked calmer than I’d imagined. Not until I got in the taxi did my phone vibrate. A message from Ethan: About the house, I‘ll explain… Be good. Find a place to stay for now. I’ll pick you up in a few days. I stared at the screen for a few seconds, then flipped my phone face-down on my lap. Outside the car window, streetlights retreated one by one. Pick me up in a few days? As if I‘d just gone out to buy groceries and would be back soon. I leaned against the seat and closed my eyes. No need, Ethan. You don’t need to pick me up. The next morning at nine, outside City Hall. When I arrived, Ethan was already waiting. He was leaning against his car door. When he saw me get out, he stubbed out his cigarette and walked over. “Where did you stay last night?” he asked. “My grandfather‘s place.” He nodded. His gaze lingered on my face for a moment, then he suddenly reached out as if to touch my hair. I tilted my head away. His hand hung in midair for a second before he pulled it back. “Sophia,” he lowered his voice, his tone carrying a certain confident gentleness, “you saved face for me in front of Xavier and Mason. I appreciate that.” “As for the house…” he paused, “Vivian needed property in the city to get residency. I figured it was just putting her name on it. You married down anyway, so I thought you wouldn’t care about these things. That‘s why I didn’t tell you.” I looked into his eyes without speaking. Wouldn‘t care? He gave my marital home to another woman. And brushed it off with “you’re wealthy, you won‘t care”? He didn’t think I wouldn‘t care. He simply didn’t care whether I cared or not. “Anyway, you do have the right to live there!” “After the divorce, stay somewhere else for a while,” he continued arranging, “Once I‘ve handled things on my end, I’ll bring you back.” I almost laughed out loud. Even now, he still thought all of this was me playing along with his act. “Let‘s go,” I didn’t respond to his words, turning toward City Hall. “Let‘s handle the paperwork.” His footsteps quickly followed. The process went faster than expected. Signing, fingerprints, submitting photos. The clerk finally pressed down the steel stamp with a soft click. The divorce certificate in my hand was thin, a small booklet similar to the marriage certificate, just a different color. Ethan glanced at his phone, his brow furrowing. “I need to take a call,” he told me. “Wait here for me. I’ll give you a ride back in a bit.” He walked a few steps away and answered the phone. His voice was very low, but two words still drifted over: “Vivian…” I stood there, quietly watching his back. After hanging up, he quickly returned, looking somewhat urgent: “Something came up. Head back on your own. I‘ll contact you later.” After he walked out the main entrance, I slowly turned and headed toward the marriage registration window at the other end.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379128”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I went to the school to conduct an investigation and stopped by the cafeteria for lunch. I saw a male student who had only gotten free soup, so I casually got him a lunch. Someone nearby whispered, “Isn’t that our school’s top student? How dare that girl talk to him?” Before I could think much of it, a female teacher had already rushed over and slapped me across the face. “What class are you in? You little slut! How dare you seduce my son!” The male student panicked, grabbing her arm and shouting, “Mom! It’s not what you think!” The female teacher shook him off and grabbed my wrist. “Come on! We’re going to see the principal!” I had no choice but to explain. “You’ve misunderstood. I’m a staff member from the State Department of Education.” She scoffed. “State Department of Education? At your age, you dare to lie? Let’s go!” But I just have a baby face! When I was dragged into principal Zachary Thorne’s office, she was still yelling. “Mr. Thorne! My son is our top student! How dare she seduce him! a student like this must be expelled!” He turned to me, his tone stern. “What class are you in? Give me your parent’s phone number. You’re expelled!” I smiled. “I dare to give it to you, but I’m afraid you won’t dare to call!”

Zachary Thorne was caught off guard by my response and froze for a moment. That teacher named Rebecca Foster jumped up beside him. “Mr. Thorne, look at her attitude! This shameless thing should be severely punished!” I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my reddened wrist where she’d grabbed me. “Stop talking and make the call.” Zachary Thorne rose to the challenge and picked up the desk phone. “What’s the number?” I rattled off a string of digits. He dialed, pressed the speakerphone, and said arrogantly. “Hello, I’m Mr. Zachary Thorne from Ivy Ridge High School. Are you this student’s parent? Your child has been seducing male students at school. Please come immediately!” There was a two-second silence on the other end. Then a voice came through, clearly confused. “What? What are you saying? Who?” Zachary Thorne repeated. “Your daughter has been seducing male students at school! Please come to the school immediately to handle this!” Silence again on the other end. I almost couldn’t hold back my laughter. If Mr. Thorne knew who was on the other end, he’d probably wet his pants already. Too bad he didn’t know. He was still standing there arrogantly, waiting for my “parent” to come and apologize to him. “Mr. Thorne,” the voice on the other end became strange, “are you certain you’re talking about my daughter?” “Of course I’m certain!” Zachary Thorne was getting impatient. “Are you coming or not?” The other side said, “I’ll be right there. Mr. Thorne, until I arrive, no one is to lay a finger on her.” The phone hung up. Mr. Thorne held the receiver and snorted. “Pretty arrogant.” Rebecca Foster came over. “What happened? What was their attitude?” “Said they’ll be right here,” Zachary Thorne put down the receiver. “Told me not to touch her.”

Rebecca Foster’s eyes rolled, and she suddenly became excited. “Mr. Thorne, I have an idea! Let’s call a school-wide assembly and make this little vixen apologize in front of everyone! Make an example of her so all those girls with improper thoughts can see!” Zachary Thorne hesitated. “Is that really necessary?” “Why wouldn’t it be?” Rebecca Foster’s voice was shrill. “My son ranked first in the entire city exam. He’s our school’s star student! If we don’t deal with this kind of vixen, anyone will be able to seduce him in the future!” Zachary Thorne nodded and was about to speak when Rebecca Foster reached out to grab my hair. I seized her wrist in one motion and twisted hard. She cried out in pain, her face going pale. “I can walk on my own.” I released her hand and looked at her calmly. Rebecca Foster clutched her wrist. I stared her down until she retreated half a step, swallowing back the curses that had been on her lips. She hadn’t expected me to fight back, much less expected my strength. In the hallway, she walked ahead of me, constantly turning back to glare, her mouth far from clean. “Shameless thing, little vixen, born cheap!” I stopped walking. She stopped too, watching me warily. “Watch your mouth.” My voice wasn’t loud, but she was scared enough to retreat half a step, her lips trembling twice, ultimately not daring to curse again. Zachary Thorne urged from behind. “Hurry up, hurry up, everyone’s waiting at the field.” On the field, over two thousand students were already lined up by class. A sea of people, all whispering among themselves. Rebecca Foster pushed me onto the stage, using vicious force, trying to make me stumble, but I stood firmly without even swaying. Disappointment flashed across her face. Zachary Thorne walked to the microphone and cleared his throat. “Today, we’re holding an emergency school-wide assembly!” The field fell quiet. “This girl!” He pointed at my nose. “Seduced our school’s top student, Ethan Carter, in the cafeteria!” The crowd below instantly erupted, students whispering to each other. Rebecca Foster snatched the microphone. “Ethan Carter is my son, ranked first in the entire city! He’s our school’s pride! He’s Ivy League material!” She turned to me, her finger nearly poking my face. “There have been several little vixens like this before. They just want to ruin my son! Ruin the school’s hope! What are they? Do they even deserve to talk to my son?” Zachary Thorne took the microphone, his tone softening, putting on a magnanimous appearance. “If you apologize publicly and write a guarantee letter, and if your attitude is good, I can consider not expelling you.” Looking at his hypocritical face, I couldn’t help but laugh. “You haven’t even figured out who I am, and you dare demand an apology?” Rebecca Foster exploded. “Who are you? Who could you be? You’re just a shameless little slut!” She got angrier and rushed forward to slap me. I dodged sideways. Her slap missed, her center of gravity unstable, she staggered two steps and nearly tumbled headfirst off the stage. Laughter erupted from below. Rebecca Foster’s face turned crimson.

“What are you laughing at!” She yelled at the crowd below, then suddenly turned to me, her eyes full of madness. She pulled out a red marker from her pocket and unscrewed the cap. “You think you’re so tough? You think you can dodge?” She advanced toward me with the marker raised. “I’m going to write ‘vixen’ on your face! I’ll make it so you can never wash it off! Let the whole school see what kind of person you are!” The laughter below stopped abruptly. People gasped, some shouted that this was too much. Just as Rebecca Foster’s marker was about to touch my cheek, I kicked her to the ground. Rebecca Foster screamed in pain, her face going pale. With my other hand, I pulled out my work ID from my pocket and held it in front of her eyes. “See it clearly now?” She squinted and leaned closer to look, her eyes suddenly widening. The work ID clearly read: State Department of Education Deputy Director Lydia Monroe. Her lips trembled, her face instantly turning deathly pale. I let go. Her legs gave out and she collapsed on the ground. I turned to face the over two thousand students below, holding my work ID high, my voice clear. “I am the Deputy Director of the State Department of Education, Lydia Monroe.” Complete silence fell over the field. Zachary Thorne was stunned for three seconds, then he laughed out loud. “You think we’re three-year-olds?” Rebecca Foster instantly got her energy back. “Right! Right! That work ID must be fake!” Zachary Thorne sneered, looking me up and down. “State Department of Education Deputy Director? How old are you? You look like a teenager. What kind of leader are you pretending to be?” Rebecca Foster leaned close to my work ID, shaking her head. “The counterfeiting technology these days is really amazing. It looks quite authentic! If I hadn’t seen the real thing, I might have been fooled by you!” Zachary Thorne shouted to the crowd below. “Check which class this Lydia Monroe is in!” The dean of students pulled out a roster and flipped through it, then looked up. “Mr. Thorne, I’ve checked. There’s no such person.” Rebecca Foster pointed at my nose, her voice shrill. “I know now! You’re a little slut who snuck in from outside the school!” She got more and more worked up, her voice getting louder. “You must be from that poor high school nearby! You snuck into our school to seduce boys! I’ve seen plenty of social scum like you!” The students below began to stir. Some whispered to each other, some craned their necks to look at me, and some frowned. But Rebecca Foster didn’t care about any of that. She got more and more excited. “Look at her, dressed all proper, but she’s actually just a delinquent! Forging work credentials, sneaking into a top high school, specifically targeting good students!” She turned and shouted at the crowd. “Security! Where did all the security go? Restrain this little slut!” The security chief ran onto the stage with two guards. The three stood beside me but didn’t make a move. Probably because they’d seen me kick Rebecca Foster earlier and weren’t confident. Rebecca Foster leaned close to Zachary Thorne’s ear, deliberately raising her voice several levels. “Mr. Thorne, this kind of social scum, forging credentials, sneaking into school, seducing our top student! Call the police! We must call the police! Send her to juvie!” Zachary Thorne nodded, pointing at me with an air of righteousness. “Who are you really? If you don’t tell the truth, I’m calling the police right now!”

I looked at him calmly, enunciating each word. “I told you, I’m the Deputy Director of the State Department of Education.” Rebecca Foster scoffed. “Still lying? You’re a teenage girl—how could you possibly be a deputy director? Look at yourself. Do you look like an adult?” Zachary Thorne joined in with a cold laugh, looking me up and down. “Right! Which deputy director comes to a school alone? Without even a driver? Without any staff? Who are you trying to fool?” Rebecca Foster continued. “Call the police! We must call the police! This kind of little slut is a cancer on society. She should go to juvie for proper education!” Zachary Thorne pulled out his phone and dialed 911 in front of over two thousand people. “Hello, 911? I’m Mr. Zachary Thorne from Ivy Ridge High School. We’ve caught someone forging State Department of Education credentials, sneaking into school to seduce boys, seriously disrupting the educational order. Yes, please dispatch officers immediately!” He hung up, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked at me triumphantly. Rebecca Foster put her hands on her hips, arrogant. “Just wait. When the police arrive, you’ll be crying! Forging state official credentials—that’s enough to keep you busy!” She turned to the crowd below, shouting at the over two thousand students. “Everyone look! This is what happens when you seduce top students! If anyone else has such improper thoughts in the future, this is your example!” I stood on stage, a smile playing at my lips, saying nothing. Rebecca Foster saw me smiling and got even angrier, rushing up to me. “You’re still smiling? Let’s see if you can still smile when you’re at the police station!” Zachary Thorne also came over, his voice threatening. “Forging state official credentials—that’s at least two or three years in prison. Little girl, your life is over.” I looked at him sarcastically. “Oh, I’m so scared!” But Rebecca Foster thought I was actually scared, her voice even shriller. “What? Scared now? Too late! You were so arrogant earlier, weren’t you? Now you know to be afraid?” I nodded. “Fine, then let’s wait.” Sirens sounded in the distance. Rebecca Foster jumped with excitement, pointing at the school gate and shouting at me. “Hear that! The police are here! You’re done!” Zachary Thorne straightened his tie, stood up straight, ready to greet the police. A black sedan and three police patrol cars drove through the school gate. Rebecca Foster pointed at the gate, shouting at me. “See that! They’re all here to arrest you!” I crossed my arms over my chest, the smile never leaving my face. The person who stepped out of the black sedan was State Department of Education Director Nathan Brooks. His face was dark as iron, radiating a low pressure, followed by city police station officers and a team of police. Rebecca Foster pointed at me, shouting at the officers. “Officers! It’s her! It’s this little slut from outside the school! She forged State Department of Education credentials and snuck into our school to seduce my son! Arrest her quickly!” Director Brooks didn’t look at her. He walked straight onto the stage. He walked up to me and looked me over to confirm I was unharmed before speaking. “Ms. Monroe is our State Department of Education’s Deputy Director! Who’s been giving her trouble?!” Complete silence fell over the field. Rebecca Foster’s finger, pointing at me, froze in mid-air. “You said she’s what?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379129”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

“Sasha, just sign it.” A termination notice was pushed in front of me by a greasy hand. I didn’t move. My gaze traveled past my boss, Richard Wade, and landed on the sofa across from me. The new intern, Lily Clarke, was burying her face deep into Ethan Miller’s chest, her shoulders shaking violently as she sobbed like she was about to pass out. “Ethan, this is all my fault… I shouldn’t have touched that contract. Now I’ve ruined Sasha. How can I ever make it up to her…” Ethan Miller, my boyfriend of five years. At this moment, he was patting Lily’s back with a tenderness I’d never seen before. Then he raised his head. The look he gave me instantly turned to ice, filled with condescending reproach. “Sasha, stop making a scene. Lily didn’t mean it. She’s only twenty-two, fresh out of college and doesn’t know anything yet. You’ve been in this position for five years. What’s wrong with taking some responsibility for her?” Richard was tapping the table impatiently. “The company has invested so much in you over the years. Now that there’s been a ten-million-dollar mistake, having you resign voluntarily is already saving you face. Don’t be ungrateful.” “Her father is Mr. Clarke from Skyhigh Group. Our company’s second-round funding depends on him.” Ethan lowered his voice to a volume only the three of us could hear. “You’re just taking the fall. It’s not like you’re losing anything. Don’t ruin Lily’s bright future.” I looked at this absurd scene unfolding before me and suddenly laughed. Laughed until tears nearly came. The images from my past life cut through my mind like rusted blades.

The same words, the same scene. Back then, I had cried and screamed like a madwoman, swearing the contract wasn’t lost by me, that it was Lily who had taken it upon herself to make copies and then it disappeared. I begged Richard to check the security footage. The cameras were “conveniently” broken. I grabbed Ethan’s hand and begged him to believe me. He yanked his hand away and publicly accused me of shirking responsibility and having poor character in front of the entire company. Together they forced me to take the fall for that ten-million-dollar disaster. Then Richard used his connections to blacklist me across the entire industry. Buried under massive debt with nowhere to turn, I jumped from the rooftop of a twenty-eight-story building on a rainy night. The dull thud of my body hitting the concrete, the excruciating pain of shattered bones—I still remember it all clearly. And them? They rode the “angel round” investment that Lily secured by selling out our company’s bottom-line pricing to competitors, stepped over my corpse to a glorious IPO, and became an industry legend. Ethan even became the golden son-in-law of Skyhigh Group. Now, heaven had brought me back to this very moment of signing. “Sasha…” Lily peeked out from Ethan’s embrace, looking at me with tearful eyes. But deep in those eyes flashed an extremely subtle provocation. “Will you forgive me?” I withdrew my smile. My gaze turned cold, as if I were looking at three corpses. “Sure.” I picked up the Montblanc pen from the table and removed the cap. Ethan froze for a moment, apparently not expecting me to be so agreeable today. A hint of relief flashed in his eyes. “Sasha, I knew you were reasonable. Don’t worry, once this blows over, I’ll…” Two swift strokes. I signed “Sasha Clarke” on the termination notice with sharp, forceful strokes that nearly tore through the paper. Lily’s crying stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened in shock. I threw the signed notice in Richard’s face. The sharp edge of the paper left a red mark on his fat cheek. “What are you doing!” Richard clutched his face and roared. Ignoring him, I unzipped my Hermès bag, pulled out another document I’d prepared, and slammed it on the table. “Read it carefully. This is my resignation letter.” I braced my hands on the table, looking down at these three scheming people, enunciating each word. “You don’t need to fire me. I quit. And I’ll take this fall.” With that, I turned toward the conference room door. “Sasha! What kind of attitude is this!” Richard bellowed furiously behind me. “Do you still want your separation certificate and industry references? Believe me, I can make sure you never work in this field again!” I gripped the door handle, not looking back, coldly tossing out. “Save it for your own epitaph.”

Pushing open the conference room door, I collided face-first with a solid chest. A faint scent of oud mixed with tobacco instantly invaded my nostrils. I stepped back half a step and looked up. The man wore an impeccably tailored black custom suit, tall and straight with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. One hand was tucked in his pocket, the other playing with a pure black Zippo lighter. His features were sharp and striking, his jawline cutting like a blade, and a pair of dark eyes were watching me with an ambiguous smile. Jackson Cross. The youngest capital shark in the elite circles, head of Daybreak Capital. Also the top-tier investor Richard had been groveling to like a dog lately, trying to court. And the client on the other side of that “lost” ten-million-dollar contract. “Miss Clarke, quite the temper.” Jackson’s thin lips parted slightly. He’d obviously been standing outside the door listening to everything. I looked directly into his eyes without any trace of retreat. “Mr. Cross, have you enjoyed the show? If not, there are still three clowns performing inside.” Jackson raised an eyebrow. The lighter spun once around his fingertips and snapped shut. “Do you know that the mess you just took the fall for involves my project?” He stepped closer, his imposing height forcing me to tilt my head back slightly. “I know.” I met his gaze without flinching, my eyes sharp and aggressive. “So let me warn you now, Mr. Cross—this company is rotten to the core. Your money won’t even make a splash here.” Jackson laughed softly, his chest vibrating. He leaned down close to my ear, warm breath brushing my earlobe. “Oh? What about investing in you?” “Guaranteed profit.” I answered without hesitation. He straightened up, gave me a long look, then drew a gold-embossed black business card from his inner suit pocket, holding it between his slender fingers and extending it toward me. “I’ll be watching.” I took the card, my fingertips deliberately brushing across the back of his hand. His eyes darkened, but I had already turned away, walking toward the office area in my four-inch heels without looking back. Behind me, the conference room door opened. Richard’s obsequious voice came through. “Oh, Mr. Cross! You came personally! Please, come in, come in…” I sneered and returned to my private office. According to labor law, I had three days for the transition. In my past life, I spent those three days with swollen eyes from crying, begging everyone I could find to prove my innocence, pathetic as a homeless dog. This life, these three days would be enough for me to strip this company to the bone.

I locked my office door and opened my computer, logging into a private cloud drive with triple encryption. Inside was everything I’d fought for with my life over five years—all core client information, contact details, personal preferences, and the underlying logic and profit margins of every project. I picked up my phone and dialed the first number. “Mr. Lewis, it’s me, Sasha.” A hearty laugh came from the other end. “Sasha! What’s up? Did that Phase Two project pan out?” “Mr. Lewis, I’ve left my old company.” My tone was calm. “What?!” Mr. Lewis was shocked. “Has Richard lost his mind? You’re his cash cow!” “Difference of vision, that’s all. I’m going out on my own. The company’s already registered—it’s called Stellar Tech.” I got to the point. “That project you’re working on, the previous proposal actually had a critical flaw. I’ve redone the entire framework. It’ll boost your product performance by twenty percent, and I’ll give you two more profit points. What do you say…” “Sasha, listen to me.” Mr. Lewis interrupted, his tone serious. “In business, I’ve never cared about company names. I care about people—and I trust you, Sasha Clarke! If you’re going independent, I’m absolutely on board! I’ll have my people stop the contract immediately and transfer it directly to your new company!” “Thank you, Mr. Lewis.” Hanging up, I didn’t pause before dialing the next number. “Mr. Johnson, your wife’s birthday is coming up, right? I remember she loves that brand’s limited edition haute couture. I had a friend in Paris secure one. I’ll have it sent to your home tomorrow. And while I’m there, shall we discuss working with my new company?” “Mr. Collins, I have a new solution for that technical problem you’ve been stuck on…” All morning, I didn’t even drink water. My phone grew hot from continuous use. The client trust I’d built over five years through countless all-nighters, countless drinking sessions that left me with stomach bleeding—it couldn’t be easily destroyed by some intern who got in through connections, a scumbag boyfriend who only knew how to make empty promises, and a bloated, stupid boss. By noon, eighty percent of the company’s core clients—the ones generating the revenue—had all verbally agreed to transfer their contracts to my new company. First step of pulling the rug out from under them: complete. At two PM, I pushed open the door to the tech department.

The tech department was chaotic, keyboard clicks thundering. Tech Director Sam Johnson was sporting massive dark circles, cursing at his screen. “What kind of garbage code is this?! Does that new girl Lily have rocks in her head? Creating a deadlock in a simple loop! I stayed up all night rescuing the servers!” Seeing me enter, Sam quickly stubbed out his cigarette. “Sasha, what brings you here? I heard Richard gave you trouble this morning?” I walked to the meeting room and knocked on the glass door. “Everyone, stop what you’re doing. Meeting room, now.” A dozen core team members exchanged glances, then set down their keyboards and filed in. I closed the door and pulled down the blinds, blocking outside view. “I’m leaving.” Straight to the point, no preamble. The meeting room exploded. “Sasha, what happened?!” Sam jumped up in agitation. “Is this about that ten-million-dollar contract? I heard it was that little snake Lily who lost it. Why should you take the fall!” “Exactly! Is Richard blind? We only recognize you as our project director!” “Sasha, what are we supposed to do without you? Who’s going to shield us from those idiotic client demands?” Watching these pure tech geeks, warmth flooded my heart. In my past life, Sam was the only one who brought flowers to my grave and got fired for publicly cursing out Richard at the company. I raised my hand, signaling them to quiet down. “I’m not here to listen to complaints or to whine.” I pulled out a stack of printed documents from my bag and pushed them to the center of the table. “This is the equity distribution plan for my new company. It’s called Stellar Tech. I hold fifty-one percent. Of the remaining forty-nine percent, I’m allocating thirty percent as an option pool for the founding technical team.” I looked Sam in the eye. “Sam, you’ll be Technical Director with ten percent equity. Everyone else gets shares based on level and contribution.” The air seemed to freeze. Everyone’s eyes widened. Even their breathing grew quiet. For employees, empty promises were commonplace, but real equity incentives—especially such a large percentage of actual shares—was an absolutely irresistible temptation. Sam swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly. “Sasha… are you serious?” “When have I ever joked about money?” I braced my hands on the table, my gaze sweeping across each young face, my voice steady and seductive. “Follow me. I can’t promise you’ll be driving Ferraris tomorrow. But I promise that every line of code you write won’t be wasted. Your talent will receive maximum respect and direct monetization.” “No more suffering under incompetent management, no more all-nighters cleaning up stupid decisions, no more watching the face of an intern who can’t even write ‘Hello World.’” “We work for ourselves.” Silence. Ten full seconds of silence. Suddenly, Sam slammed his hand on the table so hard the water in the cups splashed out. “Damn it! I’ve been sick of serving that idiot Richard anyway! Sasha, I’m with you!” “Count me in! I’m writing my resignation right now!” “Me too! Whoever wants to stay at this dump can have it!” The entire tech team—fifteen core members—every single one chose to follow me. Looking at their excited faces, a cold smile curved my lips. Richard, Ethan, did you think getting rid of me would let you rest easy with your little white lotus? You have no idea that a storm capable of crushing you to dust has already formed.

The three-day transition period flew by. I didn’t hand over any substantive client information, leaving only superficial documents of no consequence. On the afternoon of the third day, I walked out of the building where I’d worked for five years, carrying a cardboard box. The sunlight was a bit blinding. I took a deep breath of freedom. “Sasha!” Urgent footsteps sounded behind me. Ethan rushed out and grabbed my arm. I shook off his hand in disgust, looking at him coldly. Today he wore a well-tailored suit, his hair meticulously styled, but his face showed a kind of condescending, pained expression. “Do you have to make this so ugly?” Ethan frowned, his tone full of reproach. “You haven’t shown your face these three days, and the transition documents are a mess. Mr. Wade is very angry.” “Whether he’s angry or not is none of my business.” I jostled the box in my hands. Ethan took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, and put on an affectionate face. “Sasha, I know you feel wronged. But you have to understand my position. Lily has a powerful background. We can’t afford to offend her. What can you do out there alone? This industry is only so big. Without Mr. Wade’s reference letter, you can’t even find a decent job.” He paused, stepped forward, and tried to take my hand again. “Stop being stubborn. Go back and apologize to Mr. Wade. Humble yourself. I’ll give you the director position and work as your deputy. We’ll start fresh, okay?” Looking at this face that once captivated me, I only felt my stomach churning with nausea. “Ethan Miller, do you know what you look like right now?” I stepped back, creating distance. “What?” “A dog that wants to eat shit but also finds it disgusting.” Ethan’s face instantly turned ashen. “Sasha! Watch your language! I’m trying to help you!” “Help me?” I laughed coldly, my eyes like knives. “Helping me by throwing me under the bus without hesitation to protect your little mistress when things went wrong? Helping me by watching me get buried under ten million in debt and blacklisted across the industry?” “What are you talking about! What industry blacklist!” Ethan’s eyes shifted, clearly guilty. “Drop that disgusting act of deep affection.” I moved closer to him, lowering my voice. “From the moment I signed that paper, we were completely done. You’d better pray you never fall into my hands, because if you do, I’ll make you wish you were dead.” With that, I stopped looking at his face that changed colors like a palette and turned toward the curb. A black Maybach glided silently to a stop in front of me. The rear window slowly descended, revealing Jackson Cross’s chiseled profile. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, adding a touch of refined menace to his appearance. He glanced at Ethan frozen in place, then his gaze landed on me, a playful smile curling his lips. “Miss Clarke, get in. Let’s discuss your ‘guaranteed profit.’” I opened the door and got in without hesitation. The car pulled away smoothly. In the rearview mirror, Ethan’s face was twisted beyond recognition.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379130”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

A bottle of water costs $15, and a sandwich is $40. People say we’re dead for sure. Little do they know, I’m a hardened “broke girl,” and this game falls right into my wheelhouse. I will be the only “broke” survivor to walk out of this hell. My 99 attempts to fight back couldn’t stop me from being sucked into this game world. The system’s electronic voice sounded: [Welcome, 100 players, to the Broke Survival Game!] [Initial funds: $50. Objective: Survive in the game area for 7 days.] [The winner gets a $1 million prize!] [Overspending, death, or leaving the game area will result in elimination—you will be burdened with a $1 million debt!] The voice paused, carrying a hint of cunning: [Now, do any cowards want to quit?] “Quit? Are you kidding me?” A punk with dyed blond hair and a lip ring sneered. “Seven days? I can survive just drinking tap water!” A chubby guy next to him in a cheap t-shirt wiped his sweat. “Yeah, exactly! $50 is plenty for hot dogs and pretzels if we budget right!” “Risk it all, turn a bicycle into a sports car!” “Only an idiot would quit!” The crowd buzzed with blind excitement. Not a single one of the 100 players quit. System voice: [Game rules activated. Players may no longer quit. 100 players have been deployed—Welcome to the Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) Labyrinth. Good luck staying alive!] With a flash of white light, I found myself in a massive, modern airport. It was huge, stretching out endlessly. Crowds of people bustled back and forth. It was impossible to tell who was a player and who was an NPC. My game account quietly showed my initial $50. Three metrics appeared on my interface: Hunger, Thirst, and Energy. All three were currently full. I saw a 24-hour convenience store across the way and walked over to check the prices. Just as I reached the refrigerators, a tearful exclamation exploded. “Shit!” It was the chubby guy from earlier. He was staring intensely at the cooler. “$15 for a bottle of water?! Is this a robbery?!” I walked over, my eyes scanning the shelves, and my heart sank. A cupcake was $50, a sandwich $40, a bagel $10, and even the cheapest bag of soda crackers was $18! A daily budget of $7.14? That wouldn’t even buy half a bottle of water. The chubby guy looked at me, his face written with despair. “Sister 66, we’re screwed! This money is only enough for three bottles of water! People are going to die in a week!” I sighed. “The system isn’t running a charity. I knew it wouldn’t be this simple.” Other players flooded into the convenience store, their faces reflecting the same shock and panic. The chubby guy pulled me aside. “Sister, I’m Player 44, Davis. Let’s form an alliance. It’s good to have a partner in the game. If someone bullies you, I can fight them.” He threw a few boxing jabs, looking reasonably agile. Before I fully understood the game’s rules, I didn’t want to ally with anyone, so I politely declined. I left the convenience store alone. First things first: find water. Free water. Outside the restrooms, I found a drinking water fountain. I found two discarded empty water bottles nearby, washed them thoroughly, and filled them to the brim. Water sorted. Cost: $0. Next, I needed to secure a massive amount of calories. I spotted a Starbucks. On the condiment bar, packets of white sugar, creamer, and raw sugar were neatly stacked. Sugar is a crucial energy source. The packets could be used in emergencies to prevent hypoglycemia. I walked over expressionless, my movements as natural and smooth as picking up something at home. Over a dozen sugar packets and a few creamers instantly slid into my pockets. The whole process took less than two seconds. Then, I calmly walked out of the Starbucks. Finding a secluded corner, I tore open two sugar packets and poured them into my mouth. The intense sweetness exploded, bringing a false sense of satisfaction. Calories sorted. Cost: $0. The airport’s AC was blasting like an icebox. Maybe the system did this on purpose; the colder it was, the faster you burned calories. My thin clothes couldn’t block the chill. I had to keep moving to stay warm. I found an airline blanket in a trash bin, discarded by a passenger getting off a flight. As time passed, my hunger grew stronger. At 8 PM, I wandered into a bakery. In the glass display, unsold baguettes and cheese breads gave off an enticing wheat aroma. My stomach let out a loud rumble. Relying on my acute “broke” intuition, I guessed the bread should be on sale by now. Sliced toast, originally $30, was now $15. But it wasn’t enough. Right before closing, the discount would be even lower, maybe even free. Every dollar saved was a chance to survive. I sat on a chair across from the bakery, resting with my eyes half-closed. Suddenly, an anonymous player broadcasted in the game’s global chat: [Hurry to the bakery in Zone A on L3! The bread here is half price!] “Half-price bread!” “Zone A! Hurry!” “Don’t grab it! It’s mine!” Twenty or thirty figures surged from all directions, frantically rushing the bakery. The small entrance instantly became a mob. In the chaos, I saw people waving cash, and others reaching directly for the bread on the shelves. The clerk shouted in panic, “Line up! Line up!” but it was completely useless. In just a few minutes, all the discounted bread on the shelves, including the toast I had my eye on, was swept clean! Those who managed to buy something looked relieved, as if they had survived a disaster. Those who didn’t beat their chests in frustration, their eyes full of despair. The air was filled with curses, complaints, and desperate sighs from other players. My Hunger level had already dropped by 70%. I took a deep breath, suppressing my stomach cramps, and shifted my gaze from the chaotic crowd up to the giant flight information display high above. Red flight statuses were continuously scrolling. It was time to show my real skills! In this airport, players could move anywhere. Even without a ticket, we could go to the departure gates. I quickly scanned the massive screen and precisely locked onto a few bold, red delayed flights. Only flights delayed for over 6 hours were my targets. Dragging my weakening legs, I walked toward one of the gates. A small crowd had already gathered there, the air thick with anxiety and sweat. Gate 102 had been delayed for 8 hours. Stranded passengers surrounded the gate agent. The agent was a young woman, her face flushed red, as the passengers’ spit practically flew into her face. “Is your airline completely useless?!” “My child is crying from hunger! Are you going to do anything?!” “Compensation! We demand compensation! Give us our money right now!” The scene was pure chaos. The agent’s voice drowned in the noise, and she looked like she was about to cry. This was the chance! I forcefully pushed my way to the center of the crowd. Not to break up the fight, but to stand directly in front of the gate agent. “Quiet!” I roared with all my might. The sudden outburst stunned the crowd into silence. I pointed at the mother holding a crying child, then addressed all the passengers, raising my voice to be as inflammatory as possible: “Look! Look how much the baby is crying! If we tear the roof down yelling here, is the plane going to fly? The airline made a huge mistake, and they must be held accountable! But what do we need most right now? Food! A place to rest! We need to save our energy to fight them to the end!” I turned to the overwhelmed agent, speaking rapidly: “Everyone is highly emotional. The priority is to calm the passengers down. Issue meal vouchers and hotel vouchers immediately! Let everyone eat and settle down first. Otherwise, if this blows up, can you take the responsibility?” “I’ve been telling them that meal vouchers and hotel vouchers can be issued, but they don’t want them,” the agent said, sounding wronged. “Everyone needs to line up and get them according to their boarding passes.” “You’re still talking about procedures at a time like this?” I interrupted her, pointing to the mom with the baby. “Look how tired this mother is. Can she really stand in line for your meal vouchers after holding a child for 8 hours?” I turned to the mom. “Ma’am, give me your boarding pass! I’ll get it for you.” I held out my hand with undeniable authority. The mom, grasping at straws, immediately shoved her boarding pass into my hand. Once someone took the lead, the effect was instant. Several other passengers—those with elderly family members, kids, or just looking extremely exhausted—started shoving their passes into my hands too. “Help me get one too!” “And mine!” In an instant, I was clutching over a dozen boarding passes. I turned to the agent, thrust the passes at her, and lowered my voice. “Hurry up. Let’s solve the most urgent ones first. Better than ending up on the news, right? Give me two extra meal vouchers, and I’ll help you pacify these people with kids. It gives everyone an out.” The agent looked at me gratefully and typed furiously on her computer. She pulled out a stack of meal vouchers, counted out the ones matching my passes, then quickly grabbed two more, shoving them all into my hands together with a thankful look in her eyes. Done! My heart hammered, but my face remained calm. “Ma’am, here you go! Take the baby and go eat!” “Sir, here’s yours!” I quickly distributed the corresponding vouchers and boarding passes back with practiced efficiency. Finally, I pinched the two extra vouchers, stuffed them into my innermost pocket, and shouted to the crowd: “Everyone go get your vouchers, eat, and rest! Save your strength! We’ll settle the score with them later!” While the crowd’s attention shifted to claiming their vouchers, I slipped away like an eel, disappearing into the bustling terminal concourse. To survive this game, you had to be better at finding loopholes than the average person. Just outside the lounge, I ran into Davis again. He smiled good-naturedly. “Sister, I saw what you did. You were negotiating like a mob boss in a movie. Are you sure you won’t ally with us? We might need each other’s help later on.” In just one day, he had gathered four other players around him. I still declined his invitation. After stuffing myself with a burger combo using the voucher, my Hunger level temporarily filled back up, but exhaustion washed over me like a tide. My Energy level had fallen below 50%. It was now 11 PM. The airport foot traffic had noticeably thinned out, most stores were closing, and the lights dimmed. An indescribable, eerie atmosphere began to settle in. The seats in the terminal all had armrests to prevent people from lying down. A young player, likely unable to hold on any longer, wrapped himself in a thin jacket and curled up on the floor, trying to sleep. Barely two minutes passed before a bright flashlight beamed directly onto his face. “Get up! No lying down here!” the security guard’s voice was robotic and devoid of emotion. The young player ignored the NPC, rolled over, and kept sleeping. Suddenly, a squad of guards armed with batons rushed out from a corner. Without a word, they forcefully hauled him up and threw him out the main doors of the airport. The global chat broadcasted: [Player 13 eliminated for leaving the game area. Debt: $1 million.] Right after, players in other zones were eliminated in the exact same way. The system was forcing our hand, using exhaustion and the cold to squeeze out the players’ last drop of sanity. By this time, my Energy level was critically low. To avoid elimination, I pulled the ragged blanket over myself and fell asleep sitting up in a terminal chair. The sun rising the next day informed us that only one day of the game had passed. My Energy barely crawled back to 75%, but my Hunger had dropped back down to 50%. With one meal voucher left, I wasn’t too panicked. I drank some cold water, ate two sugar packets, and headed toward the departure hall to hunt. Suddenly, a player sprinted past me, snatching a hot dog right out of a child’s hand. He brushed past me, nearly knocking me over. The child burst into tears. Security rushed over, surrounded the player, and tossed him into a police cruiser outside the airport. System broadcast: [Player 25 snatched NPC food, thrown out of the airport by security. Eliminated. Debt: $1 million.] I realized something: whatever you do in this airport, do not alert security. The airport was strange today. Not a single flight was delayed. I guessed the system had patched the loophole I exploited. All day, I wandered the hall like a normal passenger, popping into every duty-free and specialty store that offered free samples. Of course, I only ate and never bought anything. I watched the clerks’ faces while sampling, and as soon as I noticed them glaring at my freeloading, I’d quickly slip away. I managed to scrap by until the evening. I used my last voucher for dinner, topping up my Hunger again. My Energy dropped even lower today. This time, I chose not to make do with a terminal seat. I slipped into a dim side corridor. At the end of it was a golden real estate spot I’d discovered during the day: an abandoned equipment room with a cracked-open door. It was full of junk, but once the door closed, it was a private sanctuary. I had just stepped inside, before I even had time to shut the door properly, when—Bang!—a loud crash echoed as someone kicked the door wide open. A tall white guy stormed in, followed by two young punks. Scared, I shrank further back into the room. “Get out, this place is ours!” the tall guy yelled at me. I recognized him. Yesterday at the bakery, he was the one fighting the hardest. He had even snatched bread straight from the hands of two other players. Knowing I couldn’t mess with him, I decided to surrender my prime real estate. Just as I reached the door, the tall guy suddenly pulled out a switchblade and pressed it against my neck. “Hand over the rest of your cash and any food you have! Right fucking now! Or I’ll slice you open.” The madness and cruelty in their eyes told me they would absolutely do it! My brain raced. Fight back? I had zero chance of winning. Hand over the money? That meant being eliminated and bearing a $1 million debt. What do I do? What do I do? I swallowed hard. “Bro, let’s talk this out. You know robbery will get you eliminated by the system.” “Cut the crap! Hurry up, I’m out of patience.” The blade pressed deeper into my neck. I gave up resisting and decisively transferred my $50 balance to him. I could only earn a million if I stayed alive in the game. The tall guy got the money and shoved me out the door. As they closed the door, I heard a smug voice from inside: “Direct robbery works perfectly. Good thing he told us robbing wouldn’t get us eliminated. Now we don’t have to worry about running out of cash.” Who was “he”? Robbing NPCs was forbidden, but robbing—even killing—players was allowed. Who knew the rules this thoroughly? It was only day two, and I had lost my only $50. No money, no food. Was I just supposed to wait for death? Not long after, another anonymous broadcast echoed across the global chat: [The soda crackers at the Zone B 24-hour convenience store on the departure level are on sale.] The equipment room door opened. The tall guy and his lackeys walked out. I quickly hid to the side and tailed them toward the convenience store. The three of them used all their stolen money to buy soda crackers. Following the electronic chime of a successful transaction, the system broadcasted: [Players 5, 49, and 61 eliminated due to overspending. Debt: $1 million.] The tall guy wailed, “This is money I stole! How does that count as overspending?!” Before he could finish, he vanished into thin air like a beam of light. His two sidekicks disappeared like lightning strikes right after him. Dozens of bags of soda crackers and four or five bags of bread clattered onto the floor. I rushed over, stripped off my jacket, and wrapped the crackers and bread tightly inside. I guessed right. The system said from the start that overspending meant elimination, but everyone only had $50. How could anyone overspend? There was only one way: if you robbed another player’s money and spent more than $50, it counted as overspending. But when the tall guy robbed bread from players at the bakery, he wasn’t eliminated. That meant stealing food didn’t trigger the penalty. It was highly predictable that in the coming days, more people who figured this out would start brawling over food. So, the food had to be hidden perfectly. With this stash, I could absolutely survive until the end. I found five spots I deemed safe and scattered the crackers, intending to unlock one location each day to get through the final five days. By the time I finished, my Energy level was critically low again, hitting the red warning zone. I sat back down in the terminal chairs and fell asleep. Day three. A fit of violent, lung-tearing coughing erupted nearby, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. It was Player 47, Emily, a girl who looked very frail to begin with. She was curled up on a cold metal bench, her body shaking violently. Her face was flushed from coughing, bordering on purple. Her boyfriend, Brad, also a player, looked at her in disgust. “What’s wrong with you? A fever? Don’t tell me you can’t make it to day seven!” Emily’s voice was hoarse and weak, thick with phlegm. “I just… I feel so cold, so sick. Brad, can you hold me, please?” “No way. What if you infect me?” Brad refused. A piercing siren rang out across the entire terminal without warning. Heavy, synchronized footsteps approached from a distant corridor. Hazmat-suited quarantine personnel easily hoisted Emily up. “Let me go! I can’t be eliminated!” Emily screamed in terror, yelling at her boyfriend: “Brad, help me! Help me!” But Brad didn’t even look at her; he turned and bolted. The hazmat team ignored Emily’s cries. Under the horrified gazes of the other players, they threw her onto a stretcher cart and quickly disappeared down the corridor. A few seconds later, the system broadcast: [Player 47 severely endangered public health and safety. She has been forcibly removed from the game area for quarantine. Eliminated! Debt: $1 million!] [Player 87 severely endangered public health and safety. He has been forcibly removed from the game area for quarantine. Eliminated! Debt: $1 million!] Players looked at each other, their eyes brimming with suspicion. “87 ate food from the trash yesterday and had severe diarrhea today.” “You can’t catch a cold, and you can’t get diarrhea either.” Who would be next? Just the sound of a cough, even someone clearing their throat, was enough to make hearts pound. I had learned another rule: you cannot get sick. Even a minor cold or an upset stomach would get you dragged out of the game area. I survived the day relying on my scavenged bread and crackers. The airport was even colder today, literal freezing temperatures. I found a foil emergency space blanket in a trash can, discarded by a hiker. Wrapping it around myself kept me much warmer than that tiny, ragged airline blanket. By day four, more and more people were being eliminated. Waking up early, I decided to go grab my bread and crackers for the day. Avoiding the crowds, I headed to the first stash spot: a gap between a massive planter and the wall behind a remote restroom. Approaching it, I crouched down and reached into the familiar crevice. Empty! There was absolutely nothing inside. My heart plummeted. Unwilling to give up, I felt around carefully again. Not even a shred of the wrapper was left. Panicking, I sprinted to the next location. Nothing. Still nothing. All four locations where I hid the crackers had been robbed. Dozens of life-saving bags of soda crackers and bread had vanished overnight without a trace. My guaranteed victory had been completely overturned in an instant. To accurately locate every spot and silently clear them out in a single night—this wasn’t something an ordinary player could do. Who was it? Who had been watching me this whole time? My mood hit absolute rock bottom. I shamelessly went back to hunting for free samples, but the number of players doing the same had surged. The vendors were on high alert and had hidden all their sample trays. Even the Starbucks condiment bar was barren. The baristas had removed all the sugar packets. Trash cans became a battlefield. Many players still risked diarrhea to dig for scraps. By the time I checked them, not even a crumb was left. I dragged myself to 10 PM. All my stats were flashing red warnings. I walked toward a row of luxury boutiques. A player nearby whispered, “That girl’s probably getting eliminated soon. What’s she doing near the luxury stores?” In a trash can near the boutiques, I found several discarded designer bags and boxes. Travelers often threw away the packaging before departing to dodge customs taxes. I carefully stuffed the boxes into the most pristine Hermès paper bag, carrying it as I headed down to the departures level. During my earlier scouting, I noticed a high-end steakhouse there. Now, I was going to leverage it for a free resting spot and some complimentary appetizers. Pushing open the heavy glass doors, the warmth and aroma of roasted meat rushed over me. A server with a sweet smile jogged over to greet me. “Welcome! A table for how many, miss?” “Two.” I casually placed the eye-catching luxury shopping bag on the chair next to me, my voice carrying a trace of barely noticeable hoarseness. “Find me a quiet booth. I’m waiting for someone.” The server’s eyes swept over the bag, and her smile deepened. “Right away, miss. Right this way, please!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “405515”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day Everett Sterling’s plane crashed into the ocean, I nearly went mad, plunging into the waves to end my own life and follow him. It wasn’t until I was rescued that I realized it was all just a cruel, malicious April Fool’s joke. Right before I lost consciousness, I heard his little canary say in that sickeningly sweet, mocking tone: “Everett, your wife really loves you to death. If she knew you were just testing her, she’d probably go crazy, right?” He chuckled, his voice devoid of any warmth: “Crazy? After Serena had the baby, she’s been as docile as a caged rabbit. As long as you guys keep your mouths shut, this is the last time I’ll test her loyalty.” The crowd burst into laughter, everyone promising to keep the secret. Laying on the stretcher, I couldn’t shed a single tear anymore. Everett didn’t know, but that was also the last opportunity I would ever give him. From then on, my love for him dropped to zero. Chapter 1 When I woke up, I was in a private hospital in Manhattan. A peeled apple sat on the nightstand. In the past, whenever I was sick, Everett never showed up. He would only have his assistant send over a pile of flashy, expensive supplements. Seeing my calm expression, he picked up a slice of apple and held it to my lips. “Happy to see I’m not dead?” I turned my head away, avoiding the apple. I caught a glimpse of a faint purple hickey just below his collar. My voice was as calm as a pool of dead water. “Everett, let’s get a divorce.” His hand paused. Then, he simply popped the apple slice into his own mouth, chewing it loudly. A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. He made a phone call right in front of me. Soon, his assistant brought Leo in. I hadn’t seen him in a few months. Five-year-old Leo had grown a bit taller. However, the look in his eyes when he saw me was still full of distance and disgust. Shortly after Leo was born, he was taken to the Sterling estate in Long Island to be raised by his grandfather. I only got to see him during holidays. I knew exactly why Everett brought the child to the hospital. In the past, whenever he partied too hard outside and I gave him the silent treatment, he would use our son as a shield. I had lost count of how many times he had used this exact same trick. But this time, this trump card was no longer my weakness. Looking at Leo, who had gained some weight, I didn’t smile. Leo frowned in displeasure. He was simply a miniature version of Everett, even speaking with the exact same tone: “Serena, you’re still so boring and strict. Daddy, I don’t want to stay here. I want to go back and have Mommy Lila play Legos with me…” Mommy Lila? No wonder he refused to call me Mom. He had already acknowledged someone else as his mother long ago. Everett’s gaze instantly turned sharp. Leo obediently shut his mouth, but voluntarily buried himself in my arms, muttering: “Daddy yelled at me!” Usually, I would hold him tightly, but this time, I pushed him away. “Go complain to your Mommy Lila.” Those two identical faces froze at the same time. I stared straight into Everett’s eyes, speaking word by word: “Everett, I’m serious about the divorce. I’m not joking.” A flash of anger crossed his eyes, quickly morphing into mockery. “Serena, playing hard to get is only fun up to a point. If you really piss me off, you’ll never see your son again for the rest of your life.” So he thought I was just taking a step back to gain an advantage. I remembered last year, when he got into a scandal with a starlet that ended up with her in the ER. I asked for a divorce. He locked me in our penthouse for six months and refused to let me see Leo. I gave in back then. But it was also that time I realized I couldn’t bring myself to love him anymore. “Everett, I’m moving out as soon as I’m discharged.” I looked right at him, my gaze unwavering. Realizing I wasn’t throwing a tantrum, his face turned serious. “You want a divorce? We’ll see if you actually have what it takes.” After he led Leo away, I picked up my phone and sent a message to an unknown number: “I’ve thought about it. I’ll leave as soon as the National Dance Championship is over next week.” Chapter 2 After being discharged, I returned to the Sterling estate, packed a few things, and headed to the dance studio. Since I had decided to leave, I didn’t want any more entanglements with Everett. However, as soon as I walked in, my colleagues’ looks were complex and subtle. A colleague I was usually close to pulled me into a corner and asked worriedly: “Serena, how did you offend ‘Mrs. Sterling’? Not only did she steal your competition spot, but she also made the boss fire you.” Mrs. Sterling? Following her gaze, I looked toward the center of the stage. Lila Rose was wearing a haute couture dance outfit, exuding the aura of someone entirely spoiled. I almost forgot, she had always paraded around outside calling herself “Mrs. Sterling.” At that moment, she was arrogantly soaking in everyone’s envy, until she spotted me in the shadows. “Serena, I’m so sorry. The boss felt my style was better suited for the championship, so the only spot went to me.” Before, she used to hide her claws around me. Now, she dared to walk all over me. “Lila, what exactly is your style? A stripper’s style? Do you dare tell everyone your real identity?” She used to be a cam girl famous for pushing boundaries, and only got into this high-end studio because of Everett’s connections. Lila’s face flushed bright red, and tears quickly welled up in her eyes. Just then, an arm wrapped around her waist. Everett appeared in front of me, his gaze overwhelmingly oppressive. “And what exactly do you think your identity is?” I opened my mouth, but a wave of bitterness rose in my throat. His mother died saving me. Nine years of marriage, even giving him a child, couldn’t offset the weight of that life. When he was drunk, he would grab me by the throat and roar: “Serena, you married into the Sterling family to atone for your sins, not to play the rich wife! Don’t forget your place!” Seeing me zone out, Everett leaned in close and lowered his voice: “Serena, if you want to keep this job, crawl back to the estate like a good girl.” I finally understood. He was the “boss” Lila mentioned. He gave the spot to Lila and forced the studio to fire me, all to make me bow my head, admit my mistake, and take back the word ‘divorce’. Seeing I remained unmoved, he sneered: “Gotten tough now, huh? Want to escape my control? Then I’ll break your wings and see how you try to fly.” He made a phone call. Less than five minutes later, my best friend texted me: “Serena, I think I pissed someone off. I just got promoted, and my boss called me in and said he has to let me go…” I pressed my lips tightly together and began packing my belongings. As I left, I heard Lila mocking me from behind: “Serena, in the end, don’t you still have to rely on a man? I thought you had a spine.” My hand trembled on the handle of my suitcase. I turned around and fired back: “Did you forget? Legally, I’m not divorced yet. He is still my husband…” Suddenly, Everett grabbed my wrist. “Serena, who gave you the nerve to bully Lila in public? Did you treat my warnings like garbage?” My heart felt like it was pricked by a needle. Married for so many years, he never publicly announced my identity. The outside world only knew he was married, but he was never short of beautiful women by his side. Since I couldn’t participate in the competition anymore, I didn’t need to wait a week. Thinking of this, I actually felt relieved. Before returning to the estate, I went to a law firm. After printing out the divorce papers, I texted that number: “Not waiting a week. I’m leaving in two days.” Chapter 3 Back at the estate, I sat on the living room sofa, dazed. It was rare for Everett to come home this early. He stood in the entryway, looking at me against the light. In that moment, I seemed to see my past self. Sitting in the living room every day after work, waiting until late at night just for a husband to return. I used to greet him with a smile and considerately help him take off his coat. “Honey, are you tired today? I learned a new massage technique…” All these years, aside from dancing, I spent the rest of my time revolving around him. Day after day, cycle after cycle, yet it never earned me a single kind look. Looking back now, I felt I was an absolute fool. Seeing I didn’t react, Everett frowned: “What are you thinking about? Running away?” I found it a bit funny. “If I wanted to run away, what would you do?” He walked toward me, roughly pushing me onto the sofa, cleverly shifting the topic: “If you don’t like Leo, we’ll just have a daughter. Daughters are obedient. She can keep you company later, and you’ll have an easier time in this house.” When I married into the Sterling family, the staff saw he didn’t care for me, and because of my mild temper, they never respected me, dumping all the heavy chores on me. Those years, I loved him deeply and never complained. He saw it all but always stood by coldly. My thoughts snapped back as he tore off my nightgown. His kisses landed on my body, fierce and overbearing, carrying an obvious sense of punishment. No matter what he did, I was like a piece of wood, completely unresponsive. It turns out that when you no longer love someone, your body genuinely puts up defenses. Everett found it boring and got off me. “Serena, I know your body. You shouldn’t be reacting like this.” He pinched my chin, staring at me intently: “Tell me, do you have a man on the outside?” Everett loved to play around, but he was incredibly possessive and a germaphobe. A security guard at the studio once looked at me a second too long; he was fired that day and Everett found an excuse to throw him in jail. I bit my lip tight, laughing out loud in humiliation: “Yes, just like the ocean you died in, I’ve been filthy for a long time. Are you going to arrest all those men too?” Everett narrowed his eyes, his voice raspy: “Is that so?” Suddenly, he scooped me up into his arms and walked toward the bathroom. He actually doubted me! “Since you’re dirty, let’s wash you clean.” He threw me into the bathtub, aimed the showerhead at my face, and turned on the freezing water. Goosebumps covered my body. Stimulated by the cold water, my PTSD was instantly triggered. My mind flashed back to when I was thirteen, the scene of my parents’ plane crashing into the ocean surface. I trembled uncontrollably, curling up in the corner. But Everett thought I was faking it. “Serena, don’t forget the purpose of you marrying into this family. You are here to atone!” That phrase again. This was almost our only mode of interaction. Out of ten sentences, nine were laced with malice. Chapter 4 Seeing my eyes lose focus to the point where I was about to bash my head against the wall, Everett finally panicked and carried me back to bed. “What’s wrong with you? Where does it hurt…” “Everett, you’ve tortured me enough all these years. Let’s let each other go!” I used every ounce of strength I had to throw the divorce papers at his face. He stared at the signature line and sneered: “In such a rush to divorce, the guy on the outside can’t wait?” I closed my eyes and stopped talking. He slammed the door and left. After tomorrow, I could escape this nightmare forever. The next day, Everett texted me: “If you want my signature, come to the Hilton, VIP Room 708. I had the maids prepare your clothes.” It was a modified cheongsam that made my waist look incredibly slender. When I pushed open the door, a group of rich heirs were jeering and looking at me. Lila sat next to Everett, her smile blinding. “Serena, Mr. Thorne wants to see a dance. I sprained my ankle, so I have to trouble you.” The gazes of these men landed on me like they wanted to eat me alive. This was Everett’s goal—to make his legal wife entertain his mistress and business partners. “Serena, didn’t you want a divorce?” Everett leaned into my ear, his breath hot against my neck, but making me feel like I was plunging into an ice cave. “As long as you dance until he’s satisfied, I’ll sign.” He pushed me right in front of Mr. Thorne. The man wrapped his arm around my waist, his eyes blurry with lust: “They say dancers have the softest waists. I see it today. Don’t worry, I promised Sterling I’d just feel around, I won’t actually do anything to you. As long as I enjoy myself, Sterling gets the contracts for the second half of the year.” I looked at Everett in disbelief. Everyone in our circle knew Thorne was a creep with a fetish for dancers’ waists, and someone had even been sent to the hospital with a broken rib because of him. I struggled to run, but Everett yanked me back. “Serena, don’t be such a prude. It’s just a touch, you won’t lose a piece of flesh. This is your bargaining chip for the divorce.” So, this was the price of divorce. The moment the door closed, I plunged into despair. An aphrodisiac incense burned in the room, making my consciousness blur. I grabbed a wine bottle from the table and swung it at Thorne, but he caught my wrist. The bottle smashed against my forehead. I fell to the floor, blood blurring my vision. I wanted to bite my tongue and end it, but the silhouettes of my parents appeared before me. “Serena, you have to keep living.” Like seeing a beam of light in the dark, I bit down hard on Thorne’s fingers. While he screamed, I yanked the door open and ran out. Passing another slightly open door down the hall, I saw Everett. He had Lila pinned against the wall, kissing her. “Everett, shouldn’t you really go check on Serena? I’m worried Thorne might…” “What is there to worry about? I warned Thorne, he won’t go too far. I just want to use this to punish her. She’s been too disobedient lately.” Just as I was about to push the door open, Thorne’s bodyguards caught up and dragged me back. My heart died completely. Right before losing consciousness entirely, I slammed my head forcefully into the corner of the wall. Mom, Dad, Serena is coming to find you. An hour later, Everett pushed open the door to Room 708. He thought he would see me crying and begging for forgiveness. But all he saw was shattered glass and a pool of bright red blood on the floor. A cleaner was whispering nearby: “That girl earlier was so tragic. Her clothes were torn to shreds. She refused to submit and just smashed her head against the wall and died…” Chapter 5 Everett didn’t believe I was dead. He rushed to Thorne’s private estate. Thorne was having his forehead treated by a private doctor. Seeing Everett, Thorne looked a little scared: “I swear I didn’t do anything! She hit the wall herself! You can’t pin this on me.” Everett’s face was terrifyingly dark: “Say that to me one more time!” Thorne waved his hand impatiently: “Worst comes to worst, I’ll sign another year’s contract! Consider it compensation for your wife’s life! I even had her body sent back to the Sterling estate. I’ve done more than enough.” Everett completely lost control and beat Thorne mercilessly. “Who told you to touch her! I’ll kill you!” He beat Thorne into the ICU. Soon after, Thorne was reported for multiple sexual assault charges and went straight to prison after being discharged. In the days that followed, Everett kept running away from the reality of my death. Eventually, Mr. Sterling Sr. stepped in to handle the funeral. My name became a taboo in the Sterling household. On the day of the burial, Everett got blackout drunk. When he got home, Leo hugged his leg: “Daddy, I don’t want Serena to die. Can you bring her back?” The word “die” triggered Everett. He picked Leo up with one hand, his voice hoarse: “Who told you she’s dead? She’s not dead!” “And why didn’t you ever call her Mom?!” Leo burst into tears and was eventually taken away by the maids. On the seventh day after my death, Everett hid in our bedroom, crumpling the divorce papers in his hand. He stared blankly at the wedding photo on the wall. In the photo, I was wearing the cheapest wedding dress, yet smiling brightly. And he was as cold as ice. He only married me for revenge. Even though I wholeheartedly played the role of a wife, he couldn’t forget that his mother drowned trying to save me. In a daze, he thought he saw me walking toward him. He greedily hugged the silhouette: “Serena, is it you? You came back?” He inhaled the scent on her body. It wasn’t my usual gardenia, but a strong, pungent perfume. He snapped awake. The person in his arms was Lila. “Everett, let me be your wife, okay? Whatever she could do, I can do too.” She pressed closely against him. “Get out!” He pushed her away in a rage. Lila gritted her teeth, her eyes full of resentment. She touched her stomach and sneered: “I’m pregnant. It’s yours.” Everett looked quietly at her stomach, a cruel curve forming on his lips: “Are you sure?” He forced Lila to the hospital. An hour later, the paternity test was slapped onto her face. “The kid isn’t mine. During your ovulation window last time, I got a vasectomy. Did you forget?” Lila froze, then laughed like a maniac: “Everyone says you’re a playboy, but it turns out you’re a hopeless romantic. Too bad Serena will never know. She’s dead! Hahaha!” That same day, Lila was blacklisted from the entire industry and sued for fraud. Everett’s life became a blurry mess. Waking up thirsty in the middle of the night, he would subconsciously call out: “Serena, get me a glass of water.” Touching the cold empty space beside him in bed, he’d feel a suffocating pain. Until one day, outside the study, he heard his parents arguing. Chapter 6 “Old man, that corpse was obviously a fake. Everett is ruining his life over that woman. Shouldn’t we tell him the truth? Besides, what happened with Serena’s parents’ plane crash… Everett’s mother went to save her because of our families’ friendship. It was an accident! He’s blamed her all these years…” “Shut up! Let it be! I never liked Serena anyway. Married and still dancing outside all day, disgraceful. As long as Leo is still with us, that’s all that matters!” The Sterlings and my family used to be close. Everett and I were childhood sweethearts. When I was thirteen, my parents’ private jet crashed into the ocean. I witnessed everything and developed severe PTSD. On the anniversary of their death, I had an episode and jumped into the ocean. Mrs. Sterling thought it was Everett who jumped, so she dove in to save him without thinking. I was saved, but she drowned. Fourteen-year-old Everett came home from school to see me crying while holding his mother’s body. He decided I killed his only support system. From then on, he developed avoidant personality disorder, constantly seeking a sense of security by tormenting me and testing my love. Over our nine-year marriage, he played around with models and actresses, even flirting right in front of me. Only when he saw me suffering but unable to leave could he feel needed. On April Fool’s Day, he even faked a news report of his plane crashing into the ocean. He knew perfectly well the ocean was a shadow I could never overcome. He watched me run madly into the water while he and his awful friends laughed and took bets on the shore. The moment he learned the truth, Everett smashed his fist into the wall. “What… what have I been doing all these years?” He rushed to the cemetery, only to find a familiar figure standing in front of the tombstone. Chapter 7 My best friend held daisies, smiling at the headstone: “Serena, this is all I could do. You have to be fiercely happy for the rest of your life.” Everett rushed forward and grabbed her: “Where is Serena?! Tell me!” My best friend was startled, then furiously shook him off: “You bastard! Serena was killed by you, what else do you want?!” But under Everett’s relentless interrogation, she finally revealed the truth. The day I hit the wall and passed out, I met the man who had been helping me in secret—Grant Harrison. He was my sponsor when I danced, and the one I kept in contact with. Sensing my dangerous situation, he bribed the doctors and the funeral home in advance to fake my death. I was now living under a new name in California. He owned a top-tier dance theater there. A year later, I won the National Dance Championship in Los Angeles. On the podium, Grant walked toward me with a bouquet. He got down on one knee and pulled out a blue diamond ring. The crowd went wild. “Serena, if that marriage brought you pain, let me be your safe harbor for the next stop.” Just as I was about to nod, a man rushed the stage and swatted the ring away. “Serena! You can’t marry him!” Everett looked at me with bloodshot eyes: “You are my wife, how can you marry someone else?” I looked at him coldly: “Sir, you have the wrong person. I don’t know you.” “I’m sorry, I misunderstood you. But I love you. Decades of feelings shouldn’t end like this.” Grant tactfully stepped aside and dismissed the crowd. I figured there was no need to pretend anymore and said coldly: “Forgiveness? Everett, I told you the truth countless times, but you never believed me.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “405516”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel