Category: English

The day I gave birth, I watched from my hospital bed as my best friend secretly swapped our daughters. I pretended not to know. I brought her daughter home and raised her with all the love in my heart. Eighteen years later, the daughter I raised was accepted into a top university. My own daughter, however, had been relentlessly abused by my best friend, leaving her disabled. At the university acceptance party, my best friend arrived with my disabled daughter and a paternity test. “There was a mix-up at the hospital all those years ago,” she announced. “It’s time to switch them back.” I smiled, a secret hidden in my eyes. “Of course.” 1 “Aria, my mom brought a bunch of fresh eggs from the countryside. I brought some for you and Chloe.” My best friend, Hannah, knocked on my door, just as she always did. Ever since I’d started raising her daughter, she’d found endless excuses to visit. Sometimes it was to “discuss parenting tips.” Sometimes it was so “the girls can play together and keep each other company.” She’d even shown up in the middle of the night, claiming she’d had a nightmare that something had happened to Chloe and she had to check. It got to the point where my husband, Mark, would complain that she clocked in at our house more often than she did at her own job. To make her visits even more convenient, Hannah had rented an apartment in our complex. “Best friends should live close,” she’d said, “so we can always be there for each other.” But I knew the real reason. She wanted to keep a constant watch on her daughter, Chloe. I never called her out on it. I just opened the door as usual. She stood there in a chic, elegant dress, holding a basket of eggs. Behind her, cowering, was a small, sallow-skinned girl with a bruised face and a haunted look in her eyes. That was my daughter. Hannah had named her Ash. As soon as she stepped inside, Hannah set down the eggs and made a beeline for Chloe. “Chloe, sweetheart, your birthday is tomorrow! What do you want for a present? Auntie Hannah will buy you anything!” Hannah and I had been friends for years, our bond supposedly unbreakable. The moment Chloe was born, she had insisted on being her godmother. Now, she stroked Chloe’s hair, her affection pouring out of her. Chloe smiled sweetly. “Anything from you would be perfect, Auntie Hannah!” Hannah’s smile widened. “See? Chloe is so smart and sweet. Not like that stupid, useless child of mine.” She shot a venomous glare at my daughter, still hovering by the door. Then she marched over, grabbed her by the ear, and dragged her inside. “Get in here! Are you a watchdog, standing there like an idiot?” “I don’t know who you take after, you worthless little thing. Just looking at you makes me sick!” Then, right in front of me, Hannah slapped my daughter so hard she stumbled and fell to the floor. 2 My daughter’s head hit the corner of the coffee table. A gash opened on her forehead, and blood started to stream down her face. Chloe gasped, startled. But my daughter didn’t cry. She didn’t make a sound. She just scrambled to her feet, wiped the blood from her forehead as if it were a daily routine, and, wincing in pain, whispered to Hannah, “I’m sorry, Mommy. I was wrong.” Apologizing after being hit was a ritual she had repeated countless times. It had happened in my house more times than I could count. Mark rushed to get the first-aid kit. As he dabbed at the cut, he shot Hannah an angry look. “Hannah, how can you be so cruel to your own child?” “Because she was born worthless,” Hannah said, shrugging. “She’s a pathetic sight. Not even half as lovely as Chloe. I’m doing her a favor by not killing her.” Without another glance at my daughter, she turned back to Chloe, her face wreathed in smiles. “Chloe, my love, I ordered you your favorite princess cake. I’ll bring it over tomorrow for your birthday!” “Thank you, Auntie Hannah,” Chloe replied politely, accustomed to this blatant favoritism. Then, my daughter gathered her courage and spoke in a small, timid voice. “Mommy, tomorrow is my birthday too. Can… can I have a new pair of shoes?” I looked down and saw that my daughter was wearing a pair of dirty, worn-out sandals, the soles completely worn through. They were the sandals Chloe had thrown away last year. Hannah had picked them out of the trash, declaring that Ash deserved nothing more than Chloe’s cast-offs. She had worn them for a full year. Even now, in the dead of winter, with her feet covered in chilblains, she was still wearing those flimsy sandals. “A little brat like you deserves to wear trash! A birthday? You think you’re worthy of a birthday?” With that, Hannah launched into another vicious assault. The sound of her curses and my daughter’s cries filled the room. I watched, my face a cold, blank mask. Mark tried to intervene. Even Chloe pleaded with her to stop. Perhaps not wanting to frighten Chloe further, Hannah finally stopped, dragging my daughter out of the house. The next day was Chloe’s birthday. Hannah arrived bright and early, laden with gifts and a cake. There was no one behind her. Mark looked confused. “Where’s Ash? It’s her birthday too. Why isn’t she here?” Hannah waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, her? I broke her leg yesterday when we got home.” “She’s still unconscious.” 3 Hannah’s tone was light, casual, a triumphant little smile playing on her lips. As if breaking my daughter’s leg was something to be proud of. Ignoring Mark’s horrified stare, she pushed her way inside and presented the gifts and cake to Chloe. “Chloe, my darling, it’s your special day. Auntie Hannah won’t let anything unpleasant spoil it!” As Chloe took a gift, her sleeve rode up, revealing a small cut on the back of her hand. Hannah’s face instantly hardened. She turned on me, her voice sharp. “Aria, what is this? How did Chloe get hurt?” “Children get bumps and bruises all the time,” I said, my voice flat. “Your daughter is covered in them.” Hannah’s face flushed with anger. “How dare you compare that little wretch to Chloe? Chloe is…” She caught herself, realizing she’d gone too far. Taking a deep breath, she forced a calmer tone. “What I mean is, Chloe has been pampered since birth. She’s far more precious than that… other one. You need to be more careful with her.” Mark snorted. “You’ve got some nerve. If you hadn’t been beating your daughter in our living room yesterday, getting blood everywhere, Chloe wouldn’t have tried to clean it up and hurt herself.” Hannah looked at Chloe for confirmation. “Is that true, Chloe?” Chloe nodded. “I wanted to help Mommy and Daddy.” Hannah’s voice softened with pity. “Sometimes you’re too good, sweetheart. Let your parents do the hard work.” “Your only job in this house is to be happy, you understand?” Then, she busied herself with the birthday preparations, cooking and decorating with a whirlwind of energy. After the meal, she turned to Chloe, her eyes shining. “Tell Auntie Hannah, what is your birthday wish? I’ll make it come true.” Chloe didn’t hesitate. “I want to get into Oxford!” Hannah beamed, stroking Chloe’s head. “Well, I can’t help you with that. But you’re so smart, I know you’ll get in. And when you do, Auntie Hannah will have a surprise for you that you’ll never forget.” Looking into Hannah’s eyes, filled with such love, a faint, secret smile touched my lips. A surprise she’ll never forget? My dear, dear friend. I have one for you, too. 4 Every year, on Chloe’s birthday, Hannah was more enthusiastic than either Mark or I. As for my own daughter, after her leg was broken, I never saw her again. Whenever Mark asked, Hannah would just say with a sneer, “Don’t mention that unlucky brat. It just makes me angry.” Because of Hannah’s deliberate avoidance, it wasn’t until Chloe was accepted into Oxford that I saw my daughter again. At the celebration party I threw for Chloe, Hannah walked in, my daughter limping beside her. She pulled out a paternity test and, in front of all our friends and family, handed it to me. “Aria, Ash has been having some health problems lately. I took her to the doctor and found out… she’s not my daughter.” “There was a mix-up at the hospital. Ash is your daughter. Chloe is mine.” “We’ve been separated for so long. It’s time for me to be reunited with my real daughter. We need to switch them back.” As she spoke, she squeezed out a few tears, her gaze fixed on Chloe with a mixture of love and guilt. She played the part of the long-suffering victim perfectly. A shocked murmur went through the room. “They worked so hard to raise such a successful, intelligent daughter, and now they just have to give her away?” “Everyone knows how much Aria has done for Chloe. The only reason she got into Oxford is because of Aria’s tutoring. You can’t just erase eighteen years of love and effort!” “Who could possibly bear to do that?” On one hand, a smart, well-behaved, successful university student. On the other, a disheveled, emaciated, disabled girl. Anyone would choose the former. But amidst the whispers, I smiled, a strange, knowing smile. “Of course.” “If there was a mistake, then it should be corrected.” My words stunned the room into silence. Hannah’s eyes widened in disbelief, shocked that I had agreed so readily. Even Mark stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Aria, are you crazy?” “You’re just going to take her word for it, based on a piece of paper that could be fake, and give Chloe to her?” My mother-in-law chimed in, her voice frantic. “Aria, this is a huge decision. You can’t just agree without looking into it properly!” I looked at them, my voice calm and clear. “Chloe is her daughter.” “I saw them switch the babies myself.” A collective gasp went through the room. Mark was practically jumping out of his skin. “That’s impossible! You were so weak after giving birth, you almost died! You always said that baby was more precious than your own life. How could you just stand by and watch her be abused?” “You have to be lying!” I met his gaze. “When she was born, I saw a butterfly-shaped birthmark on her waist. If you don’t believe me, go and see for yourself if Ash is our daughter.” My mother-in-law was the first to move, lifting the girl’s shirt. When Mark saw the butterfly birthmark on his daughter’s waist, his face crumpled. He strode over to me and slapped me hard across the face. “Aria, are you even human?” “If you knew the truth all this time, why didn’t you say anything? Why did you let our daughter suffer at the hands of that woman for all these years?” He was shaking with rage, his eyes burning with a murderous fury. The other relatives joined in, their voices a chorus of condemnation. “Is she out of her mind? That’s her own flesh and blood! How could she watch her own daughter be treated like that and do nothing?” “She’s a cold-hearted monster! She knew, and she just watched as the girl’s leg was broken, as she lived a life of misery!” “Mark, divorce her! A woman like that doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve to be a part of this family!” The accusations rained down on me. Everyone looked at me with contempt and disgust. Even my daughter, the timid, broken Ash, looked at me with tears in her eyes and screamed, “I hate you!” Then she turned, ran to the window, and jumped. A sickening thud echoed from below, and the room fell silent in horror. Tears streamed down my face. It was finally over.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391471”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Years after we parted ways, we crossed paths again. I was holding my son’s hand; he was arm-in-arm with his new girlfriend. When someone mentioned his ex, he scoffed. “I paid for her entire college education. Once she graduated, she dumped me because I was too poor and married someone else.” Someone joked, “I bet your ex is drowning in regret right now.” His eyes flashed, locking onto mine. “Does Mrs. Vance think she regrets it?” I choked down the bitterness in my throat. “No regret…” He let out a cold laugh. “Well, I regret it.” “I regret ever taking that stray cat home.” 1 When I was eighteen, Liam took me in when I had nowhere to go. He worked to put me through college, loving me with everything he had. We agreed to get married right after graduation. But after graduation, I left him, citing his lack of money, and married someone else. Five years later, he appeared at a high-end charity auction, a beautiful girlfriend on his arm, throwing money around without a second thought. “Three million.” “Three point five.” “Four million.” Liam seemed intent on outbidding Arthur Vance. Every time Arthur raised the bid, Liam immediately countered. The entire room of elite guests settled in to watch the show. Unfazed, Liam casually raised his paddle again. “Five million.” A collective gasp echoed through the room. Arthur hesitated for a moment, contemplating another bid. I reached out and gently rested my hand on his arm, stopping him. “It’s fine, Arthur. Let it go.” Arthur tilted his head slightly, whispering, “You don’t want it?” I shook my head. “Five million going once. Five million going twice. Sold!” “The antique gold and kingfisher feather hairpin goes to Mr. Sterling for five million dollars. Congratulations.” The room buzzed with gossip about the CEO of Sterling Enterprises spending a fortune to impress his date. Back when we were together and struggling to get by, he had bought me a simple wooden hairpin. It cost fifty dollars. It felt too expensive. He worked so hard for his money back then. I cried, begging him to return it. He just ruffled my hair, unfazed. “I’ll buy you much more expensive ones in the future. My Scarlett deserves something worth at least five million.” Today, he really did spend five million on a hairpin. It just wasn’t for me anymore. After the auction, Liam was surrounded by people. Some were networking; others were asking for photos with his girlfriend. His girlfriend was famous—Chloe, a rising starlet currently trending everywhere. I was holding little Leo’s hand, walking out beside Arthur, when we collided head-on with Liam. He was wearing a bespoke suit, radiating an intimidating, aristocratic aura. His expression was cold and detached—a look I had never seen on him before. The woman clinging to his arm was smiling brightly, looking absolutely radiant. “Thank you for yielding the floor today, Arthur.” Liam stopped and greeted Arthur, but his eyes were fixed entirely on me. In the past, whenever he looked at me, his eyes were always full of a unique, gentle adoration. Now, his gaze was freezing and completely alien. The moment our eyes met, my heart seized. I gripped Leo’s little hand tighter. “Don’t mention it, Liam. The highest bidder wins, simple as that.” Arthur smiled warmly, offering a polite handshake. “This is my wife, Scarlett, and my son, Leo.” Liam’s eyes flickered. His gaze drifted down to where my hand held Leo’s. He froze for a fraction of a second before a dark, unreadable smirk curved his lips. “You’re a lucky man, Arthur.” Arthur returned a modest smile. “I can’t compare to you. Chloe is even more stunning in person than on screen.” Chloe blushed, offering a happy, contented smile, and tightened her grip on Liam’s arm. Arthur joked lightly, “Spending five million dollars just to make a beautiful woman smile—that’s a story people will be talking about for a while.” The surrounding crowd echoed his sentiments, admiring the picture-perfect couple. But then, the assistant standing next to Liam suddenly let out an inappropriate, mocking laugh. “That’s nothing. You should have seen how our boss treated his ex-girlfriend. He practically ripped his own heart out to give it to her.” I almost didn’t recognize him. It had been years. He used to be a punk kid with dyed red hair who hung around Liam. Now, Chris was wearing a sharp suit, his hair cut into a clean, professional style. His eyes swept over me, carrying blatant, undisguised mockery. “It’s just a shame that some people are completely blind.” The crowd immediately started whispering among themselves. “I didn’t know Mr. Sterling had an ex.” Liam shook his head, his expression indifferent. He let out a light chuckle. “It’s not worth mentioning.” His cold eyes carried a faint, derisive sneer. “I paid her way through four years of college. Once she graduated, she decided I was too poor and married someone else.” Chloe, sensing the tension, playfully chimed in. “Chris, why didn’t you ever tell me about this? A girl who could make Liam act like such a hopeless romantic must be incredibly beautiful, right?” Chris scoffed. His mocking gaze locked onto me, his tone dripping with cruel amusement. “You know what’s funny? Mrs. Vance here actually looks a lot like my former sister-in-law.” He emphasized the word ‘former’ heavily, his expression dripping with absolute contempt. “If she knew how successful Liam is today, do you think her guts are green with regret?” I lowered my eyes, desperately avoiding his stare, but Chris only pressed harder. “I heard Scarlett is Arthur’s second wife. They say being a stepmom is a tough job, but Scarlett seems to be handling it pretty comfortably.” Suddenly, everyone was looking at me. The whispers grew louder, filled with veiled speculation and judgment. The humiliation washed over me like a suffocating wave. I ducked my head as low as I could. Just as my embarrassment peaked, little Leo violently ripped his hand from mine, charged straight at Chris, and bit down hard on his arm. Chris hissed in pain, his face contorting, but he couldn’t exactly hit a child in public. Arthur quickly stepped forward and pulled Leo back. “My apologies. My son can be a bit unruly.” He picked Leo up, his demeanor remaining polite but noticeably colder. “I don’t believe I have any prior grievances with you, Mr. Sterling. What exactly is your assistant trying to achieve by publicly humiliating my wife?” Liam frowned slightly, reaching up to loosen his tie. His gaze shifted back to me. “My apologies. Perhaps Mrs. Vance just looks a little too much like my ex.” He turned to Chris. “Chris, apologize to Mrs. Vance.” Chris shoved his hands into his pockets, barely lifting his eyelids. “My bad, Mrs. Vance. I hope you—don’t take offense.” His voice was lazy and insincere. It wasn’t an apology; it was a taunt. “You know how it is for guys like us who grew up on the streets. We’re just uneducated trash with no manners.” Chris’s words pierced my heart like a needle, leaving a dull, aching pain. Five years ago, when we broke up, I had screamed at Liam: “Liam, you’re nothing but a broke, uneducated thug! You are completely beneath me!” Now, he had transformed into an industry titan. He was highly successful, with a beautiful woman by his side. It felt like a resounding slap across my face. My hands, hidden beneath my sleeves, were clenched so tightly they were trembling. Just as the humiliation became unbearable, Leo ran back over and grabbed my hand. “Mommy, bathroom.” “Okay, Mommy will take you.” I grabbed Leo’s hand and practically fled the scene. 2 I leaned against the tiled wall outside the restrooms, letting out a shaky breath. My entire body was trembling slightly. Liam. Liam… Even now, I couldn’t believe this sudden, unexpected reunion was real. Then, footsteps echoed from the end of the hall. When I looked up, that sharply defined face, backlit by the hallway lights, was stepping closer and closer. It felt like something slammed violently into my chest, making it impossible to breathe. I didn’t dare look at him. My only instinct was to run. I spun around in a panic, trying to leave. “Scarlett.” His deep voice resonated behind me. My trembling fingers twisted tightly together. “What are you running from?” He stepped in front of me, casting a tall shadow over me. He had taken off his suit jacket, leaving only a black dress shirt. The collar was unbuttoned, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. Familiar scent. Unfamiliar eyes. “Liam… it’s… it’s been a long time…” I tried desperately to suppress my panic, but the words stumbled out in a broken, trembling whisper. He stared at me, a violent storm seemingly raging in the depths of his eyes. After a long silence, his Adam’s apple bobbed twice. “Don’t you think you owe me an explanation for what happened?” His thin lips were pressed tightly together, his jaw clenched hard. Meeting his dark, unfathomable gaze sent waves of panic and sour pain crashing through me. I had seen him in so many different states, but this—this familiar yet terrifyingly foreign version of him—felt like an illusion layered over the Liam I remembered. I stayed silent for a long time, only managing to force out two words: “I’m sorry…” He stared at me, suddenly letting out a harsh scoff. “Hah. Five years, and all I get is ‘I’m sorry.’” He suddenly stepped closer. I scrambled backward in panic until my spine hit the cold wall. “Scarlett, I have a lot of money now.” His voice was icy, his expression steeped in profound loneliness. He trapped me in the corner. I could hear his heavy, uneven breathing right next to my ear. I pressed myself tightly against the wall, keeping my head down, too terrified to meet his eyes. “Liam, I… I’m married…” His breathing grew heavier. He suddenly reached out, gripping my chin and tilting my head up, staring intensely into my face. “Do you regret it, Scarlett?” I was forced to look into his eyes. The corners of his eyes were rimmed with red, his gaze burning hot and cold at the same time. I clenched my fists, desperately suppressing the agonizing ache in my chest. “No regret…” He suddenly laughed softly. His hand slid from my chin down to my neck, tightening just enough to restrict my breathing. “Scarlett, you really are… something else…” His bloodshot eyes glared at me, his icy stare piercing my heart like a blade. “But I regret it.” “I regret ever taking that stray cat home.” —— The “stray cat” he was talking about was me. Ten years ago, I was curled up on a hard plastic chair in a hospital hallway, shivering from the freezing cold. He sat down next to me, covered in fresh cuts and bruises. When I caught a glimpse of the tattoos on his arm, I was terrified and secretly scooted a few inches away. He shot me a bold, sideways glance. “Scared of me?” I hugged my knees tightly, not daring to look at him or answer. “I’m a pretty handsome guy, am I really that scary?” I snuck a quick peek at him. His face was bruised and swollen, and a slightly crooked bandage was wrapped around his head. He looked absolutely nothing like ‘handsome.’ I frowned and shook my head. He looked confused. “What does shaking your head mean? Not handsome enough, or not scary?” I didn’t answer. Instead, he stood up and stood directly in front of me, looking me up and down. “Whose kid are you? What are you doing in a hospital all by yourself?” “Did you get into a fight with your parents and run away?” I still didn’t respond. He frowned, looking at me with genuine curiosity. “Are you mute?” He pulled out his phone and started dialing. “Kid, I’ll have the cops take you home in a second.” Seeing him about to call the police, I panicked. I grabbed his shirt and begged, “Please, don’t…” “Oh, so you can talk,” he teased. “Where do you live?” he asked again. “I… I don’t have a home…” I whispered. “Aren’t you afraid of freezing to death sleeping here in the middle of winter?” “None… none of your business…” I was pretty scared of him. He looked exactly like the kind of violent thug you shouldn’t mess with. “Tch, fine. I don’t want to get involved anyway.” He shot me a look and turned to walk away. Just as my racing heart began to settle, he suddenly spun around and marched right back. Without a word, he grabbed my backpack and jerked his chin at me. “You can either go to the police station, or you can come home with me. Pick one.” I was terrified by his sudden aggression and frantically tried to grab my backpack back. But he was tall. He just lifted his arm straight up in the air, and even when I jumped, I couldn’t reach it. “Give… give it back to me…” I was so desperate I was on the verge of tears. “Do I really look that much like a bad guy?” He frowned, looking at me in utter disbelief. I stared at his bruised face, biting my lip hard, too scared to speak. “My good looks are just temporarily sealed away right now. Once these heal, I’ll be handsome again.” He shot me a disdainful look. “Besides, kid, look at yourself. What do you even have? My taste isn’t that bad.” “Either come with me, or I’m taking you to the cops. Pick one.” I was so anxious I didn’t know what to say. Seeing me stay silent, he drawled lazily, “I’m counting to three. If you don’t speak, I’m calling the cops.” “Three, two…” “No, no police station…” In my panic, I grabbed the hem of his jacket. He couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He grabbed my wrist, holding my hand with one hand and carrying my backpack in the other, and walked out the door. At the entrance, a guy with dyed red hair saw Liam holding onto someone and looked absolutely shocked. “Wait, bro… you went to get checked out and came back with a cute girl?” His eyes darted around slyly. He nudged Liam, grinning mischievously. “Where’d you find her? She looks super young. Is this your type?” Liam shot him a lethal glare and snapped impatiently, “Found her.” Years later, curled up in his arms, I asked him why he decided to take me home that day. He said that back then, I was blinking at everything with big, wet, terrified eyes, defensive against the whole world, just like a stray kitten. I looked so pathetic it inexplicably triggered his protective instincts. Later on, he always joked that he had literally picked his future wife up off the street. 3 That night, my heart was in my throat the entire time I followed him upstairs. It was a rundown, ancient apartment complex. The motion-sensor light in the stairwell was incredibly dim, shutting off just a few seconds after it flickered on. When the stairwell plunged into darkness, my foot missed a step. Just as I was about to fall, he quickly grabbed my shoulder to steady me. But my heart was hammering faster and faster. I regretted it. Why was I following a strange man to his apartment? My brain started flashing through every true crime documentary I had ever seen about missing teenage girls. When we reached his door, I stood completely frozen, refusing to go inside. He threw me an annoyed glare. “What, you like squatting in doorways?” He stepped over the threshold, tossed my backpack onto the sofa, and then flopped down right next to it. He grabbed a black puffer jacket, threw it over himself, and closed his eyes. He casually added: “Forgot to tell you, this building is haunted. Weird noises start echoing through the walls around midnight.” Standing in the doorway, I looked back at the pitch-black stairwell and was absolutely terrified. I stood there, paralyzed with fear, not knowing what to do. A draft blew through the hallway, making me shiver violently. The guy in the living room let out a sudden, annoyed huff. “Either go sleep in the bedroom, or shut the front door.” With that, he pulled the puffer jacket completely over his head. The night was far too quiet. So quiet I could only hear the wind and my own heartbeat. I glanced at the guy on the sofa. He seemed to be asleep. It was too cold and I was too exhausted. I tiptoed into the bedroom. Compared to the hard plastic chairs at the hospital, the bed felt like heaven. I fell asleep almost instantly. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief, grabbed my backpack, and practically sprinted out the door. His apartment was very close to my high school. It wasn’t until I arrived at school and saw the zipper of my backpack open that I realized my English textbook was missing. After frantically retracing my steps and finding nothing, I narrowed the prime suspect down to that sofa from yesterday. But he looked so intimidating. I didn’t dare go back and ask him. We were from completely different worlds anyway. I figured our paths would never cross again. Until a few days later, when someone stood at the back door of my classroom and called my name. I turned around. It was a guy wearing a black puffer jacket, hands shoved deep in his pockets, leaning lazily against the doorframe. He was tall, with sharp, narrow eyes, thin lips, and a lazy, slightly feral aura about him. I thought I misheard. I didn’t know him. I glanced at him once and turned back around. “Hey, Liam! What brings you down here?” a guy from my class asked as he walked by. Liam answered impatiently, “Looking for someone.” “Scarlett, senior class four.” He called out again. The voice sounded familiar, but the face didn’t. “Scarlett! Liam is looking for you!” a guy yelled at the top of his lungs. The entire class turned to look at me. Under the scrutinizing stares of thirty students, I slowly shuffled over to him. “H-hi… did… did you need something?” He let out a cold scoff, dropped a book directly onto the top of my head, and turned to leave. I confusedly pulled the book down. It was my missing English textbook. It was him. It really was him… His battered, swollen face from that night was completely unrecognizable from how he looked now. He truly did have a very handsome face. A group of classmates immediately swarmed me, burning with curiosity. “Hey Scarlett, how do you know Liam Sterling?!” He was Liam Sterling??? Even though I had only recently transferred to this school, I knew that name. He was the secret (and not-so-secret) crush of half the girls in the school. The notorious bad boy from the science track upstairs who fought like he had a death wish. But thinking back on it, he didn’t seem quite as evil as the rumors claimed. 4 That afternoon, my mom unexpectedly showed up to pick me up from school. My mom didn’t like me. In fact, she resented me. She was incredibly beautiful and had spent most of her life relying on men to support her. I had always been her dead weight. Her new husband, Richard, was very wealthy. He looked refined and cultured. And he didn’t seem to hate me. He smiled at me and bought me pretty clothes. I thought my days of wandering aimlessly with her were finally over. But then I noticed my stepdad finding excuses to casually touch me. Until one day, while I was taking a shower, he used a key to unlock the bathroom door. That night, I fled the house in sheer terror. With nowhere to go, I hid in the hospital corridors. That was the night I met Liam. “Mom, is Richard still away on his business trip?” I asked cautiously, testing the waters. “He just got back today. That’s why he asked me to pick you up so we could all have a nice family dinner.” “I’m not going. Let me out of the car.” Sheer terror instantly paralyzed my body. “What are you throwing a tantrum for? Your stepdad had a little too much to drink that night and accidentally opened the wrong door. It’s not a big deal.” My mom glared at me impatiently, pointing a warning finger at me. “Scarlett, I finally managed to land a rich man. Do not ruin this for me. Pissing off Richard won’t do either of us any good.” That night, Richard bought me more expensive clothes, and at the dinner table, he calmly explained away the “misunderstanding.” But I was still terrified. The bed in that massive mansion was incredibly soft, but I didn’t dare fall asleep. At 2 AM, I heard the lock on my bedroom door click open. Richard stood silently behind me, reaching for the hem of my pajamas. He told me to put on the new clothes he bought me so he could see how they looked. I had a total breakdown. I called the police and showed them the hidden camera footage from my bedroom. Yes, I had secretly installed a camera just so my mom would finally believe I wasn’t lying. I handed the footage to the police, but the officers said the video “didn’t prove anything concrete.” My mom stood next to them, laughing nervously, dismissing it as a family squabble caused by a rebellious teenager acting out. Richard was a highly influential local businessman. In the end, the police actually apologized to him before leaving respectfully. My mom slapped me hard across the face. She called me cheap. She accused me of trying to seduce her husband. She said I ruined her life. She told me to get out. She said she no longer had a daughter. I didn’t understand what I had done wrong. If she hated me so much, why did she even give birth to me? With nowhere to go, I aimlessly wandered the dark streets. In a narrow alleyway behind my high school, several stray cats were huddled together inside a battered cardboard box. Someone was crouching down, tearing open a cheap sausage and breaking it into pieces to feed them. The person caught sight of me out of the corner of his eye. When we made eye contact, I was a little surprised. It was Liam. “Liam…” He fed the last piece of sausage to the kittens and gave them a gentle pat on the head. “What?” He stood up and walked over to me. I stayed crouched on the ground, not daring to look up at him. “Hello? Scarlett.” When I didn’t answer, he gently nudged the toe of my sneaker with his shoe. “Can… can I come home with you?” I whispered, slowly lifting my head to look at him. The moment our eyes met, he froze slightly. “What, is my place a designated safehouse now? Or a hotel? The kind you sleep at once and then run away from?” He glared at me, clearly displeased. “Weren’t you fighting tooth and nail not to go the other night?” “I… I don’t think you’re a bad person…” I explained softly. He couldn’t help but let out a cynical laugh. Maybe it was because he was willing to feed cheap sausages to stray cats that I felt like, despite his intimidating exterior, he was actually kind-hearted. “My… my mom doesn’t want me anymore. Can… can you take me in for a little while?” “Hah. Why the hell should I take you in?” he fired back. “I can take care of you! I can cook, wash your clothes, clean your apartment! And… and I don’t eat very much…” I looked up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would show some mercy. I was terrified to live on the streets alone, and I had almost no money. I genuinely didn’t know how I was going to survive. He gritted his teeth, looking incredibly irritated, before turning around and walking away. Just as my head dropped in bitter disappointment, he stopped, frowned, looked back over his shoulder, and snapped impatiently, “Well? Are you coming or not?” But when he saw the burnt, rock-hard pancakes I tried to make for him, he grabbed one, used it to smash a walnut open, and looked like he seriously regretted his life choices. “Scarlett, this is what you call knowing how to cook?” “Are you trying to murder your… trying to kill me?! This is what you call taking care of me?!” He yelled at me, looking furious. “I… I’ll learn. I promise I’ll learn fast.” I explained in a tiny voice. He let out a heavy huff, turned around, walked into the kitchen, and boiled two bowls of ramen for us. 5 Even though he constantly complained about me, he eventually bought a folding cot and put it in his bedroom. He even hung a curtain between our two beds. For the first time in weeks, I didn’t have to stay awake paralyzed by fear. The sound of his steady breathing coming from the other side of the curtain inexplicably made me feel incredibly safe. I spent most of my time in the bedroom doing practice exams to prep for the SATs. He spent most of his time in the living room, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, playing video games on his computer. There seemed to be a very clear, impenetrable boundary line between us. But as time went on, the tension between us began to ease. He looked mean, and he constantly threatened to kick me out, but he was always the one aggressively cooking enough food for both of us. I reminded him that smoking was bad for his health. He brushed it off with a careless, “When it’s your time, it’s your time.” I pulled out my phone and read webMD articles to him out loud: “Long-term smoking leads to cardiovascular damage, throat cancer, and lung cancer.” He ignored me, blowing smoke rings at the ceiling. “It also leads to low sperm count, sperm abnormalities, and severe infertility…” He cursed loudly under his breath and aggressively crushed his cigarette into the ashtray. One night, right before we went to sleep, a sharp scream echoed from the apartment above us. I was so startled I clutched my blanket tight. I suddenly remembered Liam telling me this building was haunted and that weird noises happened at midnight. Terrified and shaking, I called out, “Liam… are you asleep?” “What do you want?” he answered, his voice thick with sleep. “Did… did you hear that weird noise upstairs? Is this place actually haunted?” I was petrified. “I…” He gritted his teeth, rolled over aggressively, and didn’t answer me. The noises from upstairs continued intermittently. It wasn’t until my face was burning hot that I finally realized what the sound actually was. Blushing furiously, I pulled the blanket over my head, but I couldn’t fall asleep. Once the noises upstairs finally stopped, Liam got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He went back and forth three times. I started getting worried. “Liam, are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital?” He ground his teeth together. “No.” “You really need to stop smoking. It’s destroying your immune system,” I advised him earnestly. He snapped back fiercely, “Scarlett, if you don’t go to sleep right now, I’m throwing you out the window.” He yelled at me again, but I knew he wouldn’t actually throw me out. That night, for whatever reason, we both suffered from a mutual, unspoken bout of insomnia. Through that thin curtain, we talked for hours. I asked him why he lived alone. He said his parents divorced when he was little, and two years ago, his dad was killed by a drunk truck driver. Now it was just him. He asked me why I was crying that day in the alley, and why I had a handprint on my face. I told him my mom married a new guy, they both hated me, and she threw me out. I didn’t dare tell him about my stepdad. I was young, and I felt like being assaulted was dirty and shameful. He said, “If they don’t want you, I’ll take you. You’re easy to take care of anyway, and you barely eat anything.” I asked him, “Liam, are you going to college?” I knew his grades were terrible. Even if he tried, he’d only get into a community college at best. He said he wasn’t cut out for school. Once he graduated high school, he was going to start working, save up money, and marry a good wife. I stayed quiet for a long time before saying, “Liam, I want to go to a college out of state.” I hated this city. I was terrified I might run into Richard again one day. He stayed silent for a very long time before finally grunting, “Good. Then nobody will be here to annoy me anymore.” I thought that maybe our story would just quietly end after high school graduation. He was like a beam of light that shone on me for a brief moment, but I couldn’t hold onto him. I was just a stray cat, destined to wander the world alone. 6 But stories rarely go the way you expect. I never predicted the ending, and I certainly never imagined that one day, he would be pinning me against a wall with bloodshot eyes, demanding to know if I regretted leaving him. I choked back my agony and told him no, but he told me he regretted it. He stared at me like he wanted to rip me apart and devour me whole. Until little Leo started furiously kicking and punching his legs, screaming, “Bad man! Let go of my mommy!” His grip loosened immediately. He stared at me, completely stunned, and whispered, “Scarlett. This isn’t over.” I didn’t have time to overthink what his “not over” meant until three days later, when a massive shipment of Arthur’s company goods was unexpectedly detained at the port. Customs flagged the entire shipment for “suspected smuggling” and ordered a full-scale inspection. Arthur was bleeding thousands of dollars a day in penalty fees, the delivery deadline was looming, and the port authority refused to release the cargo. I went to Liam’s corporate headquarters. It was the tallest skyscraper in the city. The massive letters “Sterling Enterprises” gleamed blindingly in the sun. His secretary told me politely but firmly that Mr. Sterling was busy and had no time for visitors. “That’s fine. I’ll wait until he isn’t busy.” I waited in the reception lobby for five agonizing hours. Eventually, his girlfriend Chloe walked straight into his office, and a few minutes later, walked out with her arm linked happily through his. I swallowed my humiliation, lowered my pride, and approached him. “Mr. Sterling. Do you have a moment now?” He slowly, casually checked his luxury watch and let out a mocking laugh. “It’s only been five hours. Have you ever tried waiting for someone for five years, Scarlett?” I forced down my crushing embarrassment, my tone incredibly submissive. “Mr. Sterling, what happened back then was entirely my fault. Arthur had nothing to do with it. Please, let his company’s shipment go.” He shook his head, a cruel, mocking smile spreading across his face. “Nothing to do with it? You are Mrs. Vance. He is your husband. You think he has nothing to do with it?” “Liam, what do you want? I’ll do whatever it takes,” I asked, fighting to keep my composure. He looked at me, a dark, unreadable smirk playing on his lips. “What if I want you to divorce him?” His eyes burned into me, as if trying to see straight through to my soul. When I stood there frozen in silence, he let out a harsh scoff and turned to walk away. “Mr. Sterling.” I panicked and stepped in front of him to block his path. “I can divorce him…” Arthur and I had never actually had a real marriage anyway. He had helped me survive the darkest period of my life. I refused to let my past destroy his company. His eyes flickered. He looked at me, his gaze swirling with emotions I couldn’t decipher. “Do you still remember 52 King’s Hill Road, Scarlett? Be there tonight. Wait for me.” 52 King’s Hill Road. That was the address of the apartment he bought to be our future home. Walking down that familiar street again made my chest ache with a suffocating pain. The passcode to the smart lock was still my birthday. I pushed the door open. The tiny 900-square-foot apartment, which had just been bare concrete and exposed wires five years ago, had been transformed into a warm, beautiful home. Standing in the center of the room, every conversation we had in this exact spot played through my head like a movie. “Liam, I love minimalist Scandinavian design.” “Let’s fill the balcony with potted flowers.” “I want a massive bookshelf right here.” “Let’s make this a photo wall.” “How about a rocking chair over here?” He had held me in his arms, agreeing to every single thing, promising to buy me an even bigger house in the future. Now, standing in this apartment, the home I had dreamed of was completely real. The bookshelf, the fresh flowers, the rocking chair, the beautiful renovations. On the photo wall behind the sofa hung picture after picture of us together, from age 18 to 22. Running my fingers over the photos, my control shattered. I broke down and sobbed uncontrollably. The memories of those years crashed over me like a tidal wave.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391489”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I was seven, my dad brought home a little girl and told me to treat her like my own flesh-and-blood sister. Later, I found out she was the daughter of his deceased first love. From that day on, my dad’s eyes rarely landed on me. My new sister, Chloe, had poor health, so my dad spent most of his time at the hospital with her. He was there so much that he couldn’t even make it back in time to see my mom before she died. He apologized to me: “If you’re angry, take it out on me. Don’t blame your sister; she’s fragile.” Normally, I would have thrown a massive fit and turned the house upside down. But this time, I just looked calmly at the two of them. “As long as Chloe is okay.” 1 My mom’s funeral was over. My dad cried so hard he was a mess; it took several people to pull him up from the ground. Long after we got home, he sat staring blankly at a small box. It was the first gift he had ever given my mom, and she couldn’t bear to throw the box away. Seeing me walk in, he hastily stood up and stumbled toward me, almost falling. “Did your mom leave any last words for me?” I glanced at Chloe, who was standing timidly behind him, and shook my head. “Mom was in a lot of pain when she passed. She couldn’t say anything.” Noticing my gaze, my dad subtly shifted his footing, moving to shield Chloe. Even so, he was still anxious. He added, “Daddy is so sorry. This is all my fault. If you’re angry, take it out on me, but don’t blame your sister. She’s not well.” He still had faint scratch marks on his arm from where I had hit him. I had a well-known reputation in the neighborhood for being a rebellious, unfilial daughter who would lash out at her own father at the drop of a hat. My dad, on the other hand, was universally known as a good man—gentle, considerate, someone who never even raised his voice. The looks everyone gave me seemed to say: Go ahead, throw a tantrum. Just like always, grab whatever is handy and throw it at them. But this time, I just felt exhausted. I finally understood why my mom, right before she left, told me not to throw tantrums anymore. She said it was too tiring. She had been tired for over a decade and didn’t want me to end up like her. She wanted me to get out, to leave this place, to leave this family. “As long as Chloe is okay,” I said softly. My dad’s eyes widened in disbelief. I hugged my mom’s portrait, turned around, walked into my room, and shut the door. Over the past few years, to pay for Chloe’s medical treatments, our family’s savings had been drained. We sold the house. We sold the car. Right now, we were living in a rental apartment paid for by my uncle. Chloe’s illness was almost cured, but my mom had died because we couldn’t afford timely treatment for her. That afternoon, I went out and dyed my glaring red hair back to black. I pinned back my heavy bangs. I wandered the streets for a while, not knowing where to go, and eventually ended up back at the cemetery. I wanted my mom to see me. She always liked it best when I looked neat and well-behaved. When I got back, my dad was cooking, and Chloe was helping him. I didn’t know what they were talking about, but both of their faces were glowing with smiles. Chloe had even posted on social media: [I have the best dad in the whole world.] The picture attached was of a beautiful new dress. I casually liked the post. It was deleted shortly after. Chloe looked at me, her small face turning pale. My dad rushed over to explain, “She… she hasn’t been able to wear dresses because she was sick. She just wanted to commemorate it. Don’t be angry.” “It’s a nice dress.” They exchanged a confused look, not understanding my reaction. I sat down at the dining table. “What’s for dinner?” Chloe quickly brought the dishes over, looking surprised. “You dyed your hair back, Serena?” My dad finally noticed. “What made you decide to dye it black?” I shrugged. “The school doesn’t allow students to have red hair.” Before, I always did the exact opposite of what Chloe did. If she wore white, I wore black. She was sweet and obedient, so I was rebellious and loud. I wanted to be completely different from the “good kid.” I thought that maybe, just maybe, if I acted out, my dad would finally look at me, scold me, or yell at me. After all, before Chloe arrived, he poured all his energy into raising me and gave me everything he could. But he never did. He never scolded me for it. In truth, he probably never even noticed my changes. His eyes only ever followed Chloe. So, I started bullying her. I dumped ash into her cup; I purposely spilled soup on her pristine white clothes. And it worked. My dad finally got angry and hit me for the first time. My mom got into a massive fight with him over it. Chloe was so scared she had a relapse, and my dad took her away from home for over six months. In the end, my uncle had to intervene as a peacemaker, dragging my mom along to apologize before my dad finally returned. That night, I got up to get a glass of water and found my dad still awake. He was sitting on the sofa, sewing a tear in Chloe’s school uniform. “Serena? Up for water?” “Yeah.” He held the uniform, looking a bit awkward. “Daddy will mend yours as soon as I finish Chloe’s.” “I already mended mine.” His eyes widened, and he stared at me, unmoving. In the past, I would have thrown my clothes right at his head and demanded he fix them. If they weren’t torn, I would intentionally rip them. Whatever Chloe had, I demanded to have too. I thought that by throwing a fit, I was claiming what was mine. Now, I couldn’t care less. After finishing my water, I went back to my room to study. I promised my mom I would get into a good college. 2 I had fallen so far behind in my classes over the past few years that the teachers had basically given up on me. Fortunately, when I called my homeroom teacher earlier to ask for the homework assignments, she took pity on me out of respect for my late mother. She kindly told me what they were and suggested I buy some foundational workbooks to start from the absolute basics. The next day at school, my classmates and teachers were shocked by my new appearance. My homeroom teacher nodded approvingly. “See how energetic you look now? You used to look like a little delinquent. What was so great about that?” I stood up and bowed deeply to the teachers. “I apologize for the trouble I caused everyone before. I was immature. I will study hard from now on.” If my mom hadn’t gone to the school countless times to plead with the teachers and administrators, I probably would have been expelled a long time ago. I did all those things to get my dad’s attention, but the only person who suffered the consequences was my mom. He never showed up to school once. Many students assumed I was from a single-parent household. A teacher even did a home visit specifically to try and help me. When she discovered that I was the sister of the model student, Chloe, she could only sigh helplessly. “How can two girls raised in the same house be so different?” My dad quickly pulled Chloe forward to pour water for the teacher, acting incredibly subservient and fawning. “Our Chloe has weak health. We really rely on the teachers to take good care of her at school.” My mom and I just stood to the side in silence. Before she died, my mom left me a little bit of money. It was the college fund she had managed to scrape together for me over the years. I signed up for online courses and studied like my life depended on it for a month. Finally, my test scores were no longer completely embarrassing. Chloe’s birthday arrived. It was her 18th, and my dad insisted on throwing a proper celebration. However, since we couldn’t afford a restaurant, he cooked the meal himself and told Chloe to invite her friends over. My mom’s portrait was still hanging in the house. It hadn’t even been seven days since her funeral. The kitchen was filled with ingredients my dad had bought. They were all Chloe’s favorites. “Chloe can’t eat spicy food,” he said when he saw me chopping Thai chilies. I ignored him and kept chopping. He suddenly marched over, grabbed my wrist, and snatched the knife away. “I told you, Chloe can’t eat spicy food! She just recovered. What are you trying to do?!” He yelled for a bit, but apparently, that wasn’t enough. He switched to a preachy, earnest tone. “Today is your sister’s 18th birthday. Can we please just not fight? Can we let her have a happy birthday? Just consider it a favor to your dad.” What about my 18th birthday? I spent my 18th birthday in the hospital with my mom. He didn’t even say “Happy Birthday.” He only remembered the next day when he saw the empty cake box in the hospital room, and quickly bought a cheap trinket from a stall outside the hospital to make up for it. “Serena!” Chloe gasped. “Your hand!” Only then did I feel the burning sting in my palm. Blood was running down my fingertips and dripping onto the floor. The knife had sliced a long, thin gash across my palm. It wasn’t deep, but it bled profusely. My dad jumped in shock and hastily threw the knife onto the cutting board. “Serena, Daddy didn’t mean to.” His voice trembled as he carefully searched my face. “Daddy will take you to the hospital to get it bandaged right now.” I pushed his hand away. “Today is Chloe’s birthday.” He froze. “I can go by myself. It’s not that serious.” With that, I grabbed my phone and ID and walked out of the apartment. I didn’t see my dad standing by the door, watching my back for a long time, murmuring, “Has Serena… changed?” 3 I didn’t go to the hospital. I just found a pharmacy and bandaged it myself. Then I went to the bookstore, bought a stack of practice exams, and started working. Out of ten questions, I got seven wrong. In a fit of frustration, I slammed my injured hand on the table. The sharp pain almost made me jump up and scream. “Even if you mutilate yourself, you still won’t know the answers. That’s an IQ problem.” I turned my head and saw Liam sitting behind me. He smirked, his smile infuriatingly arrogant. “Well, this is rare. Never thought I’d see you in a place like this.” He was the school’s top student. I used to think he wasn’t that big of a deal. But a few days ago, the teacher proudly announced that he had scored a perfect 100 on the math exam again. While I scored a 30. Thinking about that, I couldn’t stop the look of pure admiration from flooding my eyes. “Hehehe, we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other here from now on.” He shrank back. “Whoever you are, get out of Serena’s body.” I wasn’t angry at all. I shamelessly slid over to his side. “Explain this to me, please?” He glanced at it casually. “It’s B.” “Why?” “Because it has to be B.” Me: “…” For an entire afternoon, I forgot about my injured hand and annoyed the resident genius in the library to the point of a near heart attack. It wasn’t until the sky started getting dark that I packed my things to head home. Liam’s face was dark. As we stepped out of the library, he muttered bitterly, “I hope to God I never meet anyone as dense as you for the rest of my life.” “Hehehe.” He took another few steps back in horror. “What? Don’t even think about it.” My eyes instantly welled with tears. “You know my mom just passed away. Her biggest dying wish was…” “Okay, okay, fine!” He threw his hands up in surrender. “If you’re not afraid of being insulted and berated, then I have nothing to be afraid of either.” “Thank you, thank you!” I grabbed his hand excitedly. “If my mom knows about this in heaven, she’ll definitely come thank you personally.” “Just tell her thanks for me. The personal visit really isn’t necessary.” My bus arrived. I ran over and sincerely thanked him one more time. That afternoon, I endured more insults than I had in my entire life. Liam was brilliant, handsome, and from a good family, but he had almost zero girls chasing him because his mouth was absolutely toxic. However, amidst the barrage of insults, I managed to complete an entire practice exam for the first time in my life. I never knew solving math problems could feel so rewarding. By the time I got home, Chloe’s birthday party was already over. As soon as I walked in, my dad hurried over, put a finger to his lips in a “shh” gesture, and pointed to Chloe’s room. That’s when I heard muffled crying coming from inside. “She invited a friend, but they didn’t show up. She’s really upset right now, so don’t provoke her.” I pushed past him and went into my own room. A little while later, my dad knocked and came in. “How’s the hand? What did the doctor say?” He pulled a delicate gift box from behind his back. “Daddy bought this specially for you.” It was definitely a hair clip. I had already received countless identical ones. Every time he lost his temper at me because of Chloe, he would buy something to placate me. It was never anything expensive, nothing compared to Chloe’s gifts, but he always wrapped it himself beautifully, making it seem like he deeply cherished and valued this daughter of his. But I had always been so pathetic. Every time I received one, my resentment toward him would vanish. I would sit happily in the corner, telling myself that he definitely loved me, and that he only treated Chloe so well because she was sick. “Thanks.” I took the gift, tossed it casually onto my desk, and went back to my practice exams. He stood beside me, watching for a long time, before finally sighing and leaving. When I came out of the shower, Chloe was standing by my desk, wearing her new dress. She didn’t notice me come in. She was engrossed in examining my test paper, her hands trembling slightly. “Who told you to come in here?” She turned around, a beat too slow, her eyes red. That’s when I saw that she was holding the test paper I had snatched from Liam. “Wh-where did you get this?” A teenage girl’s crush is always so obvious. Actually, I had noticed her infatuation with Liam long before she did. “Do you think I stole it?” I slowly walked up to her and took the paper back. There was no name on it, yet she recognized it instantly. She really liked him, huh? “Serena,” she quickly changed the subject, realizing she had lost her composure. “I brought you some cake. I saved a piece just for you.” She held the cake out carefully, looking at me. “Thanks, but Liam and I grabbed dinner while we were out. I’m stuffed.” Her smile almost shattered, but she tried desperately to maintain it. “O-oh, really? Then… I’ll just put it in the fridge for now.” Watching her practically flee the room, I felt a fleeting sense of vindication, but the thrill of revenge disappeared almost as quickly as it came. For the past few years, Chloe had tried every possible way to suck up to me and my mom. No matter how much I bullied her, she would just wipe her tears away in secret and go right back to following me around, sweetly calling me “big sister.” But no matter how hard she tried, it couldn’t cover up the fact that because of her, our family had fallen apart. The next day, as soon as I got to class, Liam brazenly walked over and snatched my backpack. “Let me check if you slacked off last night.” Then, as he reviewed my incorrect answers, he proceeded to call me a pig. I glanced up and saw Chloe watching Liam, looking quite pitiful. Just like that, she felt wronged? Maybe I should act even more intimate with Liam. That would definitely cause her more pain. But somehow, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. In the end, I just quietly sat down at my desk. “How did you get this question wrong? Do you actually have no brain, or are you just doing this to piss me off?” I rested my head on the desk and answered honestly, “I actually have no brain.” Liam froze, coughed twice, and surprisingly, started explaining the problem to me. With Liam’s help, my grades improved relatively quickly. By the time the first mock exams were over, I was no longer dead last in the class. The teacher even gave me a certificate of commendation and asked me to bring my dad in so she could present it to me in front of him. I hadn’t received an academic award since I started my rebellious phase. “My dad doesn’t have time.” The teacher looked disappointed. But when I got home, I found my dad had cooked a massive feast, saying he wanted to celebrate my progress. Seeing Chloe standing next to him, I instantly knew what was going on. “Serena, Dad made all of this especially for you.” I glanced at the table full of bland, mild dishes. Made for me? “Let’s eat.” I ate the tasteless food and went to my room. I heard Chloe mutter softly, “Why does Serena seem unhappy?” My dad replied, “Your sister has always had a bad temper. She’s moody. Just ignore her.” Just as I was about to fall asleep, my dad knocked and came in. He praised my progress again and promised to make me nutritious meals every day. “If you have something to say, just say it.” He didn’t get angry that I interrupted his empty promises. He thought for a dozen seconds before saying, “I remember your mom left behind two gold bracelets, right?” 4 My heart instantly leaped into my throat. I stared at him warily. “Chloe’s surgery was successful, but she still needs to take medication for a while. So Dad was thinking…” “Don’t even think about it.” To pay for Chloe’s medical bills, we had sold everything of value in the house. Those two gold bracelets, left by my grandmother, were the only things my mom managed to keep—and only because she fought with him so fiercely she almost jumped off a building. They were the only memento I had left of my mother, aside from a pile of old hand-me-down clothes and shoes. “Don’t worry, once Chloe is better, Dad will definitely return them to you.” I stood up, trying my hardest to control my fury. “How will you return them? Those were left to me by my mother! Could you possibly buy the exact same ones back?” “No, no, no,” he waved his hands frantically. “Dad will buy you an even better pair.” “Get out.” I pointed to the door. “Do you have any conscience at all?! For the past few years, for the sake of Chloe, what kind of life did my mom and I live?! Now she’s dead, and you’re still eyeing her things? Are you even human?!” His face instantly turned cold, but a few seconds later, he was back to playing the good guy. “It’s true that Dad wronged you both these past few years. But Chloe is the sister you grew up with. Are you really going to stand by and watch her die?” “What does it matter to me if she lives or dies?!” I screamed at him, my voice cracking. “It’d be better if she did die!” SMACK!!! I lost my balance and crashed to the floor. The left side of my face went numb instantly, and my ears rang. It took a long time for the dizziness to fade, followed by a burning, searing pain in my cheek. “Is that how a daughter should act?! I only came to discuss this with you because I have such a good temper.” He pushed past me, ready to search the room. But even after tearing my room apart, he couldn’t find the two bracelets. “Where are they?” “I sold them.” “Where’s the money?” I gave him a cold smile. “I spent it all.” “You…” He raised his hand to hit me again, but Chloe suddenly rushed in and grabbed him. “Dad, I still have medicine left. Don’t hit Serena.” I didn’t know how much sincerity was in her plea, and I didn’t care. Richard Sterling pointed a trembling finger at me. “Get out of my house.” I slowly stood up, shoved my few items of clothing into my backpack, and grabbed my ID. “Did you actually think I wanted to stay in this house?” If my mom’s memory wasn’t tied to this place, I wouldn’t have wanted to look at them for another second. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and strode toward the door. Richard yelled after me, “If you walk out that door today, don’t ever think about coming back!” “Don’t worry,” I said without breaking my stride. “I won’t be coming back.” 5 I went to my uncle’s house and begged him to help me rent a place. I told him I could pay for it, but I was afraid of getting scammed since I didn’t know how renting worked. My money was my lifeblood right now. I couldn’t afford to lose a single cent. My uncle was furious. “That old bastard. Your mom just died, and he treats you like this.” He wanted me to live with him, but his house was just too far from my high school. He had to ask a friend and eventually rented a small, ground-floor room in an alleyway, very close to the school. My uncle took one look at the conditions and tried to pull me away. “How can you live here? You even have to go outside to use the bathroom.” I practically had to beg him to let me stay. He finally compromised but insisted on paying the rent himself. “Don’t worry about the money. Just promise me that when you become successful, you’ll come back and visit your uncle more often.” From now on, my uncle was my only family. He was also holding onto the few mementos my mom left behind; otherwise, Richard would have ransacked them long ago to buy medicine for Chloe. My eyes welled with tears. I bowed deeply to him. “I promise I will study hard.” I settled into my new place. To my surprise, the first uninvited guest to my little shack was Chloe. She carried a massive bag filled with daily necessities—exactly the things I needed. She set the things on the floor. “Serena, see if there’s anything else you need. I’ll bring it over tomorrow.” I looked her in the eye, wanting nothing more than to laugh. “You finally managed to kick me and my mom out. Are you proud of yourself?” She froze, then lowered her head. “I’m sorry.” I hated it when she acted like this. She was the vile intruder, yet she acted like we were the ones bullying her. “Serena, whether you believe it or not, I never wanted to take anything away from you. I just… I just wanted to…” She didn’t finish her sentence. “I’m sorry.” She suddenly bowed a full ninety degrees to me. “I am truly sorry.” With that, she scurried away like a gust of wind. True to her word, she brought another large bag of things the next day. This time, she just left it at the door and hurried off without coming in. Since she was giving it away, I wasn’t going to refuse. I was incredibly short on money. Saving even a penny was a win. After a period of grueling effort, my grades finally managed to reach the lower-middle of the pack. The teacher said that if I performed exceptionally well on the actual college entrance exams, I might be able to scrape into a low-tier university. I knew that was a very polite way of putting it. But my funds definitely wouldn’t cover repeating a year of high school. After school one afternoon, Richard suddenly appeared at the school gates. It wasn’t unusual. In the past, he often came to pick up Chloe and would check on me in passing. “Serena.” As I walked past him, he suddenly called out to me. “Where have you been living these past few days?” He jogged over to me. “How are you eating? You haven’t been home for days. Dad is worried.” “What do you want this time?” I looked myself up and down. “Want me to sell my blood or sell myself to pay for your precious daughter’s medical bills?” Richard shook his head vigorously. “How… how could you think of Dad like that?” “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the past few years?” He seemed to recall something, and his face drained of color. “Your boundless love and selflessness were fueled by my mother’s flesh and blood. Now that she’s dead, you’re targeting me?” More and more students were gathering around, but I had absolutely no intention of saving his face. “If you’re so devoted, if you loved Chloe’s mom so much, why did you marry my mom? Why did you even have me?” My questions forced him to take a few steps back. His body trembled as if under an unbearable weight. “I get it now.” I relished his pathetic state, laughing sarcastically. “Because you needed someone to carry on your family name, and you needed someone to serve your parents.” Richard shook his head frantically. “No, Serena, when I married your mom, I truly had feelings for her. Dad loves you. You have to believe me. It’s just… I owe Chloe too much. You’ll understand in the future.” “Heh, I don’t want to understand. Whatever your reasons, they don’t change the damage you caused to my mother and me.” I tried to walk away, but Richard chased after me. “Hop on.” Liam appeared out of nowhere, patting the back seat of his bicycle. “What are you waiting for?” I glanced at Richard behind me and quickly jumped on. Unusually, Liam was silent the whole way. He didn’t insult me, nor did he interrupt as I secretly shed a few tears. “You live here?” “Yeah.” He took a look around. “Not bad. Fits the ‘starving student’ aesthetic.” There it was. He could never go too long without being obnoxious. As he was leaving, he pulled a thick stack of practice exams from his bag and tossed them into my arms. “Study hard. Don’t waste such a perfect environment.” With that, he rode off. A sudden warmth bloomed in my chest, and my nose stung. Aside from my own father, everyone else was doing their best to help me. I don’t know what suddenly got into Richard, but he started coming to my school every day. He brought me restorative soups and home-cooked meals. Sometimes, he would even track down my teachers to ask about my progress. But every time they finished talking, the teachers would look at me with eyes full of deep pity. My literature grades had always been good, and my literature teacher had always put in a good word for me with the other staff. During evening study hall, she called me into her office. Richard was there too. But when the teacher asked me several questions in a row, he looked incredibly embarrassed. “She is your daughter! How can you, as a father, not know the answer to a single question?” She angrily popped open the lunchbox he brought. “Even I know Serena is allergic to celery!” Richard hastily closed the lunchbox. When he looked at me, his expression was pained. “Have a good talk with your dad. He said you blocked his number.” In the past, my literature teacher always played the peacemaker, advising me not to hold grudges against my only living parent. This time, she just shook her head and walked out of the office. “Can you stop interrupting my studies?” I cut straight to the chase. “Your attempts to make amends are worthless to me, and they’re just causing me trouble. If you think the damage of all these years can be erased with a few meals and some fake concern, then I really have nothing to say.” He stared intently into my eyes and mumbled, “You look more and more like your mother.” “Don’t bring up my mom.” For a while, I couldn’t figure out why he had suddenly changed his tune. Today, I finally understood. “I heard my uncle kicked you out. So you’re trying to drag me back, hoping he’ll start paying for you guys again, right?” The day after I left, my uncle went to their landlord and refused to renew the lease, forcing Richard and Chloe to move out immediately. The two of them were now squeezed into a tiny, cheap room in a remote part of the city, far away from the school. Because of this, Chloe had been late to class frequently over the past few days. Just looking at his haggard face and his stained suit jacket was enough to tell me how miserable they had been. “Is that really what you think of me?” His eyes turned red, and his voice choked up. “I didn’t realize how much you hated me. That day I went into your room… you didn’t take a single thing I bought for you. That’s when I finally realized what I did wrong all these years. Serena, you are the only blood relative I have left in this world.” As he spoke, he covered his face and began to weep. It was the first time I had ever seen him cry. In the past, all he had to do was offer a seemingly sincere “I’m sorry,” and I would eagerly script an entire fantasy of a loving father-daughter relationship in my head. But when disappointment piles up high enough, you stop believing in anything. “Just leave. Your daughter’s name is Chloe. From now on, I have absolutely nothing to do with you. If you truly feel sorry for me, then leave me alone. Never let me see your face again.” I turned and walked away, leaving Richard’s sobs behind me. My literature teacher was standing by the door. She just patted my shoulder. “Go study.” After that day, Richard never came looking for me again. But every week, a sum of money would appear in my bank account. Chloe became isolated.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391507”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was in the middle of a shower when I saw it—a face, blurred and distorted, pressed against the bathroom window. That was the third time. When I told my mother, she didn’t even look up from her phone. She told me I was being dramatic, that my imagination was getting the best of me. “For heaven’s sake, Jade,” she’d said, her voice sharp with annoyance. “We’re on the eighth floor. Unless Spider-Man is stalking you, there is nobody out there.” The next night, I was back in the shower. The steam was thick, the air heavy with the scent of my eucalyptus body wash. I saw it again. I didn’t wait. I didn’t scream. I just lunged for my towel, threw on my robe, and bolted for my bedroom, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Then, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from the neighbor. “Hey Jade, why’d you stop your shower so early?” 1 Every hair on my arms stood on end. I let out a strangled cry and threw the phone across the room as if it had burned me. How did he know? How could he possibly know I’d stopped? Unless that face against the glass… was his. But it didn’t make sense. We lived on the eighth floor of a sleek, modern high-rise. Outside my bathroom window was nothing but a sheer drop and a concrete ledge no wider than a credit card. Our apartments shared a wall, sure. But what kind of lunatic would risk a ten-story fall just to catch a glimpse of a girl in the shower? It was suicide. Then, a memory flickered in the back of my mind. A few weeks ago, that neighbor—Gary—had knocked on our door. He’d asked to borrow a bottle of body wash. There’s a 24-hour CVS right downstairs. You can get anything delivered via DoorDash in twenty minutes. Why knock on a stranger’s door for soap? The logic didn’t track. And then there was the way he’d looked at me—his eyes lingering just a second too long on my collarbone. I couldn’t breathe. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely pick up the phone, but I forced myself to dial 911. Ten minutes later, the muffled wail of sirens cut through the night. I ran to the door and threw it open. A team of officers spilled out of the elevator, but they didn’t stop at my unit. They surged past me, their boots thundering on the carpet as they kicked in Gary’s door. A man and a woman in uniform stopped in front of me. The woman flashed her badge. “Are you the one who called?” I nodded, my voice stuck in my throat. “Gary Henderson is dead,” she said, her eyes searching mine. “We’re going to need you to come with us for questioning.” My world tilted. Gary—the man who had just texted me—was dead? 2 “You mentioned a text message in your 911 call. When exactly did you receive it?” I tried to pull myself together, though the adrenaline was leaving me cold and hollow. I handed my phone to the female officer—Detective Miller. “10:39 PM,” she noted, her expression unreadable. “And what were you doing then?” I squeezed my hands together. My palms were slick with sweat. “I… I was going to shower. Then I saw the face. It was blurry, just a shape against the frosted glass.” I was rambling, the words tumbling out of me in a frantic rush. “I got scared. I decided to wait for my parents to get home. I went back to my room, and that’s when the text came. I knew something was wrong, so I called you guys. You have the record of the call, right?” Miller didn’t answer. She just kept writing in her notebook, occasionally glancing at me with a look that felt like a surgical probe. “Can you show us where you saw the face?” “Yeah. Yes.” I led them inside. I had turned on every single light in the apartment; the place was glowing like a sterile operating room. I stopped at the threshold of the bathroom. I couldn’t bring myself to step inside. I was terrified that if I looked at the window, that blurred, featureless face would be there again, watching. Miller and her partner stepped in, sliding the glass shower door back. “This window?” I nodded. She took a few photos of the glass. “Did you open the window to look out when you saw it?” “I… I didn’t dare.” “Did the face stay there, or did it vanish immediately?” “I don’t know.” The male officer, a younger guy with a buzz cut, let out a short, dismissive huff. “The steam gets thick in these small bathrooms,” he said, not even trying to hide his skepticism. “The glass is frosted. It was probably just a shadow, kid. Girls your age… you watch too many true crime docs.” “It wasn’t a shadow,” I whispered. My voice felt small, insignificant. Was I crazy? No. I knew what I saw. The third time—tonight—I could have sworn I saw the corner of a mouth twitch. Miller shot her partner a look. “Knock it off, Ward.” “I’m just saying,” Ward muttered. “Remember that call last week? The girl who thought she was being followed, and it turned out they were just going to the same Starbucks?” “Shut up,” Miller snapped. She reached out and unlatched the window. A draft of cold, night air rushed in. Outside, the world was a black abyss. Empty. She leaned out, looking down at the sheer drop. Then she shook her head. “Right here,” she muttered. 3 “Right here.” What did that mean? She walked back toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder. It wasn’t exactly comforting. “I need to see some ID.” Her voice snapped me back to reality. “Right. Okay.” I went to my room and pulled my driver’s license from my purse. She looked it over. “Born in 2008. You just turned eighteen?” I nodded. “Yesterday. It was my birthday.” Miller’s gaze flickered to the small, half-eaten chocolate cake sitting on my desk. I swallowed hard, trying to find my courage. “How… how did he die?” She looked at me again, her eyes sharper now, like she was trying to see through my skin. “He fell. We haven’t ruled out foul play.” I nodded slowly, the room feeling like it was shrinking. “Where are your parents?” “They went out after dinner. My dad was meeting some friends for drinks, and my mom went to her weekly poker night.” “How did you have Gary’s number? Were you two close?” I shook my head vigorously. “No. He told me his niece was starting high school soon and asked if he could have my old SAT prep books when I graduated. He gave me his number for that. That’s it.” “Had he texted you before tonight?” I shook my head again, my fingers twisting the hem of my robe. Suddenly, the sharp click-clack of heels echoed from the hallway. The sound grew louder, more frantic. “You!” A woman lunged into the room, her hand raised to strike. I flinched, pulling away, but Miller was faster. She caught the woman’s wrist in a grip of iron. The woman hissed in pain. “Let go of me! That little brat! That little slut killed my husband! I want her head on a plate!” 4 I froze. Killed? Me? My legs turned to jelly. I stumbled back, and Miller caught me before I could hit the floor. Officer Ward stepped between me and the woman. “Ma’am, you need to calm down. We are still investigating.” The woman collapsed onto the floor, wailing. It was Linda, Gary’s wife. Why would she think I did it? I watched her, paralyzed by her raw, hysterical grief. The commotion had drawn the rest of the neighbors. People were hovering in the hallway—faces I recognized from the elevator, people who usually just gave me a polite nod. “Gary was such a good guy,” someone whispered. “He helped me fix my laptop last month. Didn’t even charge me.” “So tragic,” another added. “Poor Linda, left all alone with a kid.” Linda looked up, her eyes bloodshot and filled with venom. “It was her! She did it! I know she did!” The eyes of the neighbors shifted. They began to look at me differently. Not as the quiet girl from 8B, but as something else. “That’s the Miller girl’s daughter, right? Jade?” a woman whispered. “She’s only eighteen.” “Like mother, like daughter,” Linda shrieked, her voice cracking. “Her mother is a tramp, and she’s no better! They did something to him!” Miller’s voice cut through the noise like a blade. “Ma’am, watch your mouth. Unless you have evidence, you are bordering on defamation.” Linda went quiet, but the damage was done. The neighbors’ whispers grew into a dull roar. “Actually, I remember seeing them by the mailboxes,” a man said, leaning in. “She was wearing these tiny denim shorts, and Gary was right behind her, looking… well, you know. Maybe they had a thing?” “But she’s so young…” “Eighteen isn’t that young. Girls these days know exactly what they’re doing.” 5 The weight of their words felt like stones being piled on my chest. I hadn’t done anything, but I was being buried alive under their assumptions. Miller stepped forward, her presence commanding the room. “Until we find a suspect, everyone in this building is a person of interest. Do you all want to come down to the station for a statement?” The hallway cleared out in seconds. The elevator doors opened again, and my parents finally appeared. I broke down, sobbing as I threw myself into my mother’s arms. I tried to tell her everything—the face, the text, the police. But my mother just hissed at me under her breath. “I told you to stop with this nonsense, Jade! I told you there was no face! If you hadn’t called the police, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” “But Mom, the text message—” She slapped me. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room. My head snapped to the side, my lip stinging. “Don’t you dare speak of it,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and fear. “You want the whole world thinking you’re that kind of girl? You’ll never be able to show your face in this town again.” My eyes burned with unshed tears. “Are you Jade’s mother?” Miller asked, her voice cold. My mother straightened up, her face instantly morphing into a mask of polite concern. “Yes, I am. I’m so sorry, she’s just… she’s been under a lot of stress with finals.” “She was exercising her rights,” Miller said. “She did nothing wrong. And you shouldn’t have hit her.” My mother, usually the fiercest woman in any room, suddenly looked small. Cowed. My father stood behind her, his face flushed red from the whiskey. He hadn’t said a single word. The police took their initial notes and left. But three days later, they were back. They didn’t come to check on me. They came with a warrant. “Jade Miller, we’re taking you in for questioning regarding the death of Gary Henderson.” I felt the blood drain from my face. My parents stared, their mouths agape. “Let’s go.” 6 The interrogation room was cold. It smelled of stale coffee and industrial cleaner. I sat there, picking at the skin around my cuticles, unable to stop my legs from shaking. Two detectives walked in. One was Miller. For a second, I felt a spark of hope. She’d been kind to me before. But her face was a mask of stone. She sat down, looked me in the eye, and said the words that ruined my life. “Why did you kill him, Jade?” My heart stopped. Literally stopped for a beat. “You’re eighteen. You have your whole life ahead of you. Whatever happened, whatever he did to you—if you’d just gone to college, you could have left this all behind. Why did you throw it away?” She didn’t sound angry. She sounded disappointed. As if I were a child who had broken a vase, rather than a woman accused of murder. “I didn’t…” I shook my head, my voice trembling. “We found hair at the scene. Inside Gary’s apartment,” Miller said, leaning forward. “DNA doesn’t lie, Jade. It’s a match.” The room started to spin. I had never stepped foot inside Gary’s apartment. Never. “And,” she continued, “we found something else on his phone. Multiple photos of you.” She paused, as if the next word was too heavy to say. “Nude photos.” A wave of nausea hit me so hard I thought I might throw up. I felt exposed. Naked. Like I was standing in the middle of a crowded street with no skin to protect me. “What?” I choked out. “And why,” Miller added, her voice dropping to a whisper, “did you lie to us about the messages?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391525”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My entire family was slaughtered on the night of my 21st birthday. Two escaped convicts broke into our home and brutally tortured and murdered them right in front of my eyes. I barely survived, but I was left permanently paralyzed. I lost my entire family, lost my full-ride scholarship for grad school, and spent the next twelve years confined to a wheelchair, accompanied only by a catheter bag. I lived a miserable, agonizing existence for twelve years with only one goal: to find the killers and get revenge. But those two monsters vanished into thin air, leaving no trace behind. I thought I would die in agony, carrying this massive regret to my grave. But when I opened my eyes again, I was reborn. I was reborn exactly five minutes before the killers knocked on our door. 1 I will never, ever forget the day I turned 21. October 28th, 7:00 PM. A massive thunderstorm was raging outside. But inside our apartment, everything was warm and cozy. Under the soft yellow light, my whole family was gathered to celebrate my birthday, wishing me a smooth and happy year ahead. In the living room, my dad was putting the candles on my birthday cake. My mom was in the kitchen, cooking the very last dish for my birthday dinner. My pregnant sister was sitting next to me, handing me a brand-new iPad. She said it was my present. I was holding the shiny new iPad, trying to figure out how to set it up, when I suddenly heard a knock on the door. My sister asked casually, “Who is it?” “Food delivery. Someone ordered a birthday cake for you.” My sister looked at the cake already on the table and teased me. “Ooh, look at our little sister moving up in the world! Someone besides Dad ordered a cake for you.” “Who’s the sweet guy?” “Spill it. Do you have a secret boyfriend you aren’t telling us about?” I shook my head, denying it. I told her I was still a student and definitely didn’t have a boyfriend. But deep down, I couldn’t help but feel a little excited. A lot of people knew it was my birthday today, but could the cake really be from the guy I was thinking about? I happily got up to open the door. But I never expected that opening that door would become the inescapable nightmare of the rest of my life. The people standing outside weren’t delivery drivers. They were two vicious, bloodthirsty killers. The moment I opened the door, a heavy hammer smashed directly into my head. To stop me from running, the second guy swung a hatchet right into my lower spine. My dad grabbed a fruit knife and charged at them, but his throat was slashed by a much longer blade. Blood sprayed everywhere. My sister screamed and ran over to pull us away, but one of the killers grabbed her by the hair, laughing maniacally, and dragged her away. My mom ran out of the kitchen with a meat cleaver, trying to protect us, but the other killer buried his hatchet halfway into her skull. The overwhelming grief and the dizzying effect of massive blood loss swallowed me whole. I blacked out. It wasn’t until the next day, when a neighbor saw blood seeping out from under our door and called the police, that the massacre was finally discovered. My parents died on the spot. And my sister… she suffered unimaginable agony before she died. Her eight-month-old baby was cut right out of her stomach while she was still alive. I miraculously survived. But the price was permanent paralysis and the loss of everyone I ever loved. 3 The memories brought me excruciating pain. God knows how much I regretted opening that door during those twelve agonizing years I survived. Even though I knew that even if I hadn’t opened the door, they would have found a way to break in. But that thought trapped me like a demon, torturing me every single day. Making me wish I was dead. Thank god, I was reborn. I was reborn exactly five minutes before it all happened. Standing in the living room, I couldn’t stop shivering violently. “Chloe, this iPad is for you. Happy birthday, sweetie.” “I can’t believe my little sister is so smart, getting a full-ride to grad school! We have two huge things to celebrate today!” My sister’s gentle voice made my heart ache. This was the voice I dreamed of hearing every single night for the past twelve years. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I threw my arms around her and hugged her tight. “Sis, I missed you so much.” My sister was startled. “We just saw each other yesterday. What’s there to miss?” My dad, who had just finished putting the candles on the cake, chuckled at the scene. “Chloe, you’re turning 21 today, why are you still acting like such a baby?” My heart gave a violent throb. To them, it had only been a day. But to me, it had been a long, grueling twelve years. I desperately swallowed the overwhelming emotions surging inside me, forced myself to calm down, picked up my phone, and immediately dialed 911. “Hello? 601 Maple Street, Apartment 5B. There are two escaped convicts armed with deadly weapons standing right outside our door. Please get here as fast as you can.” The dispatcher said they would send officers immediately. But because the storm outside was so severe, it would take them at least fifteen minutes to arrive. Until then, they told us absolutely do not open the door and to do whatever we needed to protect ourselves. When I hung up, my dad and sister were staring at me in shock. I didn’t have time to explain everything. I just said, “I just saw on the news that two convicts broke out of the state penitentiary, and they’re roaming our neighborhood. So no matter who knocks on the door, we cannot open it.” Hearing this, my sister looked at me hesitantly. But my dad immediately grabbed his heavy baseball bat from by the front door. “Don’t worry. They’re just a couple of thugs. Even if they really show up, your old man can easily take them down.” My dad’s unconditional trust moved me to tears. But the men outside that door were absolute monsters who killed without blinking an eye. Given a second chance at life, I absolutely could not let my family fall into danger again. I immediately deadbolted the front door. Then, my dad and I worked together to push the heavy TV console to barricade the door. Just as we were about to wedge the console against the door, I suddenly realized something was terribly wrong. We were making so much noise in the living room… why hadn’t my mom come out of the kitchen? And… since a few minutes ago. Other than the hum of the exhaust fan, there was no sound of cooking coming from the kitchen. I stopped what I was doing and looked toward the kitchen. And I saw a scene that made my blood run cold. A man with a mouth full of rotting yellow teeth was holding a long knife to my mom’s throat, forcing her to walk out of the kitchen. So there were actually three of them. And one of them had been hiding inside our apartment the entire time. No wonder these escaped convicts accurately targeted our specific apartment in my previous life. Someone had been giving them intel from the inside. Seeing us staring at him, the man offered a wicked, yellow-toothed grin. “Didn’t expect you to find me. This is no fun.” With that, he sliced the knife across my mom’s throat. Bright red blood sprayed across the floor. My dad’s eyes turned bloodshot. He raised his baseball bat and charged at the man to fight him to the death. But just as he got close… Bang! A bullet pierced straight through my dad’s forehead. He collapsed heavily onto the floor. He actually had a gun. Before my sister and I could even react, the next second, a hatchet smashed through the front door. The other two killers broke in. I grabbed my sister’s hand, desperately trying to pull her toward the bedroom to hide. But the killers’ blades were faster than us. The man with the yellow teeth drove a knife straight through my sister’s pregnant belly. The next second, he ripped out her placenta and her intestines. I grabbed a fruit knife, screaming like a madwoman, charging at him to protect my sister. Thud— The heavy iron hammer smashed into my head again. Police sirens wailed outside, but I was dead again. My mom, my dad, and my sister were dead too. 4 Our whole family lived in an old, run-down apartment complex. My parents ran a small breakfast cart selling steamed buns to raise me and my sister. They were incredibly hardworking and never complained. They woke up before 3:00 AM every single day to knead dough and steam buns. They were kind and generous. Whenever they saw a lonely elderly person or a disabled homeless person, they would give them free breakfast. They always said that once my sister and I had steady jobs and were married, they would finally retire. They planned to sell this cramped old apartment and move back to their rural hometown to live out their days. My sister and I had been secretly planning that once I got my grad school acceptance letter and she had her baby… We were going to take our parents on a trip to the ocean. They had worked themselves to the bone their entire lives and had never even left this city. My grad school acceptance was basically a done deal. The official letter would be arriving very soon. My sister and I had saved up almost enough money for the trip. But why… why, even though I was reborn… We still couldn’t escape our violent deaths? Consumed by endless bitterness and regret, I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I was back in the living room. 5 The phantom pain from the heavy hammer smashing into my skull still lingered in my body. I couldn’t help but hug myself, gasping for air in pure terror. My sister was standing next to me, looking worried. “Chloe, what’s wrong?” “Are you feeling sick?” I followed her voice and looked at her, then at the brand-new iPad in her hands. Then at my dad, who was sitting nearby, putting candles on the cake. Then I ran to the kitchen and saw my mom standing perfectly fine, stir-frying vegetables. I immediately grabbed my phone and checked the time. July 28th, 7:00 PM. I finally realized I had been reborn again. I clenched my fists tightly, forcing myself to calm down. I had to figure out how to break this loop. There was a killer with a gun hiding somewhere inside our apartment. And in five minutes, two more killers armed with deadly weapons would break in. The only way to break this cycle was to take out the killer hiding inside our apartment first. My mom, my dad, my sister, and me. Four against one. We should have a very good chance. So the most important thing right now was to find him. Without alerting him and tipping him off. This time, I didn’t call 911. Instead, I used the text-to-911 service. After sending the text, I typed another message into my notes app. [Nobody make a sound. There is an escaped convict armed with a weapon hiding inside our apartment right now. We are going to find him.] My sister still looked a little hesitant. But seeing my dead-serious expression, she cooperatively kept her mouth shut. Just like the first time, my dad immediately grabbed his baseball bat from the front door and stood next to me. To avoid alerting the killer, we didn’t disturb my mom in the kitchen just yet. My dad and I, now armed with a heavy meat cleaver, quietly walked toward the balcony. The apartment complex we lived in was very old. The balconies weren’t enclosed with glass. And we lived on the second floor. It would be incredibly easy for someone outside to climb up the exterior wall and onto our balcony. This killer very likely broke in through the balcony. The balcony connected to a small bathroom and a guest bedroom. I carefully opened the bathroom door. It was completely empty. My dad pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. There were no signs anyone had been in there, either. He wasn’t in either of those places. So where was he hiding? “Pfft!” In the dead-silent apartment, someone suddenly let out a suppressed laugh. My entire body shuddered. I spun around and saw the man with the rotting yellow teeth pushing open the door to the small storage closet right next to the bathroom. So that’s where he was hiding. “Were you looking for me? Congratulations, you found me.” Pure instinct took over. I raised the meat cleaver and swung it at him. But his long knife was faster. He sliced it straight across my throat. My dad tried to save me, but the gun in the man’s hand fired, putting a bullet right between my dad’s eyes. I died again. I heard the sound of the front door being smashed open with a hatchet. And then the desperate, agonizing screams of my mom and sister. Fate seemed to be telling me that no matter how hard I struggled, we could not escape our destined deaths. But I refused to believe it. If God let me live this moment over and over again… There had to be a way.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391543”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the live broadcast of the hit parenting reality show. Every single person there was taking cheap shots at my mom. I blurted out, “Ma’am, my mommy and daddy taught me to be polite when I go out.” “Are you not polite because you don’t have a mommy?” My mom panicked and immediately clamped her hand over my mouth. “Kids say the darndest things! Kids say the darndest things!” The live chat exploded: [Just goes to show, trashy moms raise trashy kids.] But later, I carried my mom through all the show’s games purely on skill. I completely dominated the evil twin boys. And when every single toddler on the show started following me around and calling me “Boss”… The internet changed its tune: [Okay, maybe I was a little too loud earlier…] 1 After I died, I woke up inside a novel. I had transmigrated into the body of the four-year-old daughter of a scandalous, heavily blacklisted actress. My biological dad was literally the richest man in the country. My mom was drop-dead gorgeous. The day I crossed over, I hid in my massive bedroom and laughed to myself for an entire afternoon. With this kind of generational wealth, I couldn’t even imagine what kind of “hardships” I could possibly suffer in this lifetime. The only downside was my mom’s terrible public reputation. The second she popped her head out in public, she got obliterated by the internet. But my mom was a glutton for punishment. Even knowing how bad her reputation was, she still stubbornly and diligently took on jobs. One day, I came home from kindergarten with a miserable look on my face. She scooped me up, showering my face with kisses. “Baby, Mommy accepted an offer for a new show! Do you want to go play with Mommy?” Hearing the words “go play,” my eyes literally sparkled. God knows how agonizingly helpless it feels for a twenty-something soul to be forced to attend kindergarten. Getting my enthusiastic approval, my mom and her agent signed the contract at lightning speed. When my dad found out, he called an emergency family meeting. He started by having a deep, earnest conversation with my mom, gently asking if she really had to take this specific job. My mom slapped the contract on the table. “If I back out now, the penalty is five million.” The air in the massive living room fell dead silent for three seconds. My dad leaned back into the plush sofa, a teasing smirk playing in his eyes. “Evelyn, I’m not bankrupt yet.” Ultimately, I wasn’t fully present for the conclusion of this family meeting. My mom handed me off to the nanny. I sat in my ridiculously extravagant playroom, rolling my eyes so hard I saw my own brain. The filthy transactions of adults! 2 My dad walked into my room with lipstick smeared all over his face. He looked down at his four-year-old child and began his solemn lecture: “Chloe, you’re a big girl now.” “Daddy’s brave little girl can definitely take good care of Mommy, right?” Seeing that I remained completely unmoved, my dad pulled out his ultimate weapon. “If you make sure Mommy has a great time on the show, you can take a whole week off from kindergarten when you get back.” My eyes lit up instantly. God knows I had exhausted every trick in the book trying to skip kindergarten. Evelyn was a softie. As long as I cried hard enough and looked pathetic, she’d cave and let me stay home. But if Julian—my dad—was the one doing the drop-off? He would just give a cold scoff, roll up the sleeves of his bespoke suit, expertly toss me into the classroom, and walk away without a second glance. “Make it two weeks,” I countered. He frowned slightly. He seemed to be wondering why he was negotiating with a toddler. “Forget it. I’ll just pay the five million penalty.” I desperately grabbed onto his suit jacket. “Deal!” 3 The second week after signing the contract, the production crew arrived unannounced. My mom and I had secretly moved into one of our other properties a week prior. Before the cameras even started rolling, my mom’s agent had already greased the palms of the building’s management. The doorbell rang early in the morning. I answered it. Standing right next to the director was the agent lady. I flashed them a massive, brilliant smile. The camera crew immediately shoved their lenses into my face. One of them, probably the field director, asked me in a sickly-sweet voice, “You must be Chloe! Where’s your mommy?” I lifted my chubby little face and told her, “Mommy is sleeping. You can’t bother her.” Then I pushed the heavy door open, inviting them inside. Once the crew was in. They asked the agent if they could shoot some b-roll around the house. Hearing this, I specifically ran over, grabbed the director’s hand, and dragged her toward my mom’s bedroom door. With a deadly serious expression, I declared, “You can’t go in this room!” The director gave a signal, and the cameraman immediately swooped in. On camera, my squishy, dumpling-like face looked incredibly stern. “Mommy works very hard taking care of me! Mommy needs to rest!” As for why I specifically went out of my way to say this… Because I knew the truth. This variety show was a live-streamed event. Which meant that right now, behind those lenses, there were thousands of haters waiting to tear my mom to shreds for any minor mistake. In the original novel, this exact show was the catalyst. My mom inexplicably became the sacrificial lamb used to make another guest look good. The other actress on the show blew up in popularity because she and her son painted a picture of absolute, harmonious perfection. My mom, on the other hand, was cyberbullied so mercilessly that she was forced to retire from the industry. This time, I absolutely refused to let that happen. Only by experiencing it firsthand did I realize… Just how incredible of a mother she truly was. 4 So, on camera, I scurried around the various rooms, looking incredibly busy. While dragging my own little suitcase out to pack, I also took all the luggage my dad had secretly prepared for my mom and laboriously dragged it, piece by piece, into her massive suitcase. The live chat: [Evelyn knew she was going on a show, and she’s still not awake at this hour?] [That’s totally normal. I thought everyone knew Evelyn acts like a diva.] [Her daughter is so cute though! Let Auntie give you a kiss!] [She’s so young, how could she possibly know how to do all this? It’s just a people-pleasing personality.] [Didn’t she marry into a billionaire family?] Just as I was finishing up, my mom stumbled out of the bedroom, rubbing her sleepy eyes. She immediately scooped up my busy, hardworking self. She started furiously kissing my chubby cheeks. “How is my baby so cute?” “Mommy’s little sweetheart.” It wasn’t until she suddenly noticed the room full of strangers and cameras… That her face instantly turned beet red. She quickly hid her face behind me. I sighed heavily. Moms! 5 By the time we arrived at the filming location. The other families were already there. My mom and I each dragged a suitcase. Seeing us walk in, the other guests gave the cameras a lukewarm, polite greeting. In the original novel, my mom had tried to drag me over to join their conversation. And was met with thinly veiled mockery. So this time, I grabbed my mom’s hand. I pointed to a chair off to the side. “Tired. I want to sit.” My sweet, milky voice instantly cleared my mom’s brain of any other thoughts. She abandoned the suitcases and effortlessly hoisted me into the chair. Then, she pulled a cheese stick out of her pocket. I munched on the cheese stick while observing the dynamics of the other guests. But before I could even finish it. One of the twin boys from another family spotted my snack. He charged at me like a little torpedo. He smacked his lips. “What are you eating?!” I waved the cheese stick in front of his face. Then, I took a massive bite. Chew, chew… He raised his little hands, trying to follow the movement of the cheese stick, but grabbed nothing but air. Filled with tragic grief, he burst into wails. “Mommy! I want to eat too!” God knows, I only wanted to mess with the kid a little. Unfortunately, I was just pretending to be a kid. He was an actual kid. Seeing him cry, my mom panicked and quickly dug another cheese stick out of her pocket. She had packed extras this morning, terrified I might get fussy in a new environment. But giving him that cheese stick… Made things spiral completely out of control. First, he waved the cheese stick triumphantly at his twin brother. The other twin immediately lunged at him to steal it. In less than three seconds, the two of them were violently wrestling on the floor. The twins’ mother, a famous pop singer named Taylor, rushed over to pull them apart. But their combat skills were surprisingly high, and neither was willing to surrender. When she found out the brawl was caused by a single cheese stick… Taylor’s face turned black. She marched straight toward us. Looking at my mom with outright hostility, she demanded, “Did you give Dylan that cheese stick?” My mom wasn’t very familiar with Taylor. After all, she had been laying low for a long time. Since having me, she only took on minor jobs every year. Plus, the sheer volume of her haters meant that anyone who got close to her risked getting dragged down too, so she naturally didn’t have many friends left in the industry. And right now, the cameras were entirely focused on the brawling twins. Almost no one was paying attention to our corner. Taylor sneered at my mom. “Evelyn, did you do that on purpose?” “I know you’re desperate for a comeback.” “But resorting to cheap stunts to steal screen time?” My mom immediately shielded me behind her, desperately trying to explain that she hadn’t meant any harm. But Taylor wasn’t listening to a word she said. “Hmph. Keep your dirty tricks to yourself. We all know exactly how you slept your way to the top.” How my mom got to the top? No one knows better than me! Obviously, it was because my dad used every manipulative trick in the book to coax and con my mom into marrying him! Seeing this woman acting so aggressively. And even trying to throw mud at my mom, I peeked out from behind her legs. In a sweet, childish voice that was surprisingly loud, I asked, “Ma’am, are you calling my mommy bad names?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391561”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My wife was rarely home, preferring to be out and about with her “male best friend.” My daughter and I barely saw her a few times a year. Then, a few days ago, my wife and her male best friend were in a car accident while on a road trip. The doctor called, saying they needed two hundred thousand dollars for surgery, or she’d lose both her hands. Hearing the news, the corners of my mouth curled into a smile wider than an M16, but I forced myself to suppress it. With feigned sorrow, I told the doctor: “Doctor, when you use the saw, please remember the anesthetic. She’s afraid of pain.” … My wife, Lillian, was an artist. In pursuit of her so-called inspiration, she abandoned our daughter and our home, spending her days on road trips with her male best friend. The last time my daughter and I saw her was six months ago. After getting the doctor’s call, I quickly picked up our daughter, Tina, from kindergarten. Limping, I made my way to my mother-in-law’s house, stating directly that Lillian had been in a car accident and needed two hundred thousand dollars for life-saving surgery. But my mother-in-law didn’t even glance at me. She was busy playing cards with her neighbors, wetting her finger to separate her hand. “Call the Ace!” Then she squinted at me. “Who are you trying to fool? If my daughter was in trouble, why didn’t I get a call? Humph! I bet you, you useless cripple, are just trying to swindle my money!” “Forget two hundred thousand, I wouldn’t give you twenty dollars!” “Get out!” My mother-in-law glared at me contemptuously, utterly unconvinced. Her card partners chimed in, their voices dripping with sarcasm. “Tsk, tsk, a grown man bringing his child to trick his mother-in-law out of money? Aren’t you ashamed?” “What a pity, a brilliant girl like Lillian marrying a cripple…” Those words struck a nerve with my mother-in-law. She slammed her hand down on the table, stood up abruptly, and glared at me, spitting venom. “Arthur! You good-for-nothing cripple, get out of my house!” This scared Tina, who shrunk behind me, timidly saying, “Daddy, Tina’s scared…” I knelt to comfort my daughter, then told my mother-in-law, “I’m sorry, Mom, I might have received a scam call. You know, I care about Lillian too much…” “Get out!” My mother-in-law cursed. In her eyes, with my injured leg, I was never worthy of her daughter. She disliked Tina too, by extension. I took Tina home and settled her in, then slowly made my way to the hospital. Walking into the ward, seeing my wife, Lillian, and her male best friend, both covered in blood, lying on separate beds, my lips fought a battle to remain straight. Under the watchful eyes of the doctors and nurses, I collapsed beside her bed, grasping her hand, feigning utter despair. “Oh, the tragedy!” “You’ve been on so many trips with your male best friend without incident, why a car accident this time…?” “Doctor, can both her hands be saved? Is the surgery risky?” The doctor shook his head. “You arrived too late; the optimal time for treatment has passed. Her hands cannot be saved; now we can only save her life. Please sign the consent form and pay a portion of the surgical fee first!” I struggled to suppress my grin, putting on a distressed expression. “I don’t have any money. All the family’s money is managed by my wife. I tried to borrow from my mother-in-law, but she said it was a scam…” With that, I called my mother-in-law right in front of the doctor. “Mom, I’ve confirmed at the hospital, it’s not a scam call. Lillian really was in a car accident…” “Grand Slam!” My mother-in-law’s voice blared from the phone. “You useless cripple! Still trying to trick me out of money, are you? No chance!” I put it on speaker, and the doctors and nurses heard every word clearly. The doctor couldn’t help but say, “Hello, ma’am, I am your daughter’s surgeon. Your son-in-law is telling the truth…” “Get lost, no one is going to trick me!” My mother-in-law wouldn’t listen, cursing before hanging up. I put my phone away and said to the doctor, “Please save her first, I promise I will pay the money.” “What about this person?” The doctor pointed to the male best friend in the next bed. “He’s also seriously injured. We haven’t been able to contact his family yet. If you know them, please reach out.” “He’s my wife’s male best friend, really just her lover. I don’t know him, and I certainly don’t know his family.” I sighed helplessly. The doctors and nurses exchanged pitying glances. In a flash, Lillian was wheeled into surgery. I took out my phone, opened my messaging app, and sent a photo of Lillian being wheeled into the operating room to my father-in-law, with a message: “Dad, Lillian was in a car accident. The doctors say she might lose both her hands.” After sending the message, I turned off my phone and waited quietly. About an hour later, my father-in-law arrived. The first thing he asked was about Lillian’s condition. I shook my head, sighing, “The doctors said I arrived too late, both her hands couldn’t be saved…” “Why didn’t you come sooner!” My father-in-law exploded in rage, grabbing my collar and yelling, “You useless man! If anything happens to Lillian, I’ll never forgive you!” I calmly replied, “Dad, you can’t blame me. Lillian took all the money from when I sold my company. I had no money for the fees. I went to Mom for money, but she didn’t believe me, insisting it was a scam.” Just then, the operating room doors opened, and Lillian was wheeled out. My father-in-law rushed forward, his face turning ashen when he saw both of her sleeves hanging limply, empty inside. “What happened to my daughter…? Doctor! Where are her hands?” “My daughter is an artist, she can’t live without her hands, please, you must find a way…” The doctor merely shook his head, saying nothing. Just then, my mother-in-law, arriving late, rushed in. “Lillian, how is she…?” “Where are her hands? Doctor… where are my daughter’s hands?” Seeing her daughter without arms, my mother-in-law, like a madwoman, grabbed the doctor’s hand, shouting and making a scene. I understood their feelings at this moment. Ever since I sold my company and became a stay-at-home dad, Lillian had been their sole financial security. Her paintings were bestsellers, and she was quite famous, the pride and joy of my in-laws. Now that Lillian had lost both her arms, she couldn’t provide for them, becoming a burden instead. How could they not be emotional? “Please calm down. Lillian just finished surgery and needs rest,” I advised. My mother-in-law whirled around, glaring at me with malice. “Lillian is in this state all because she married you, you useless cripple!” My father-in-law chimed in, “You deliberately delayed, causing Lillian to lose her hands. I’m calling the police on you!” “Mom, you can’t just say things like that. When I got the hospital’s call, I immediately went to you.” I calmly pulled out my phone and played three recordings: “Call the Ace…” “Grand Slam!” “I am your daughter’s surgeon…” My father-in-law’s face immediately changed. He turned and glared at my mother-in-law. “You useless cripple, you set me up!” My mother-in-law was furious, grabbing my clothes, ready to hit me. “Mom, you can’t speak against your conscience.” I pushed her away, held up two fingers, and said innocently, “I came to you twice. The first time you said it was a scam. The second time, I personally came to the hospital to confirm, and the doctor even spoke to you, but you still didn’t believe it. Can you blame me?” Two female nurses nearby couldn’t help but interject: “I heard it all. She cared more about her card game than her own daughter’s life.” “That’s absolutely outrageous. What right does she have to blame her son-in-law…?” “To have a mother like that, it’s truly a tragedy!” My mother-in-law, flushed with anger, pointed at them and yelled, “Say one more word, and I’ll rip your mouths off!” “Mom… I’m in so much pain…” Lillian’s weak voice suddenly broke through; she was awake. “My poor daughter…” My mother-in-law held Lillian’s hand, wiping a tear, then pointed at me and began to curse. “It’s all your fault, you useless cripple! You couldn’t provide for her, so my daughter had to drive around to support the family, and that’s why she got into an accident!” I retorted, “You can’t say that. The twenty million dollars I got from selling my company was all in Lillian’s hands; it was more than enough.” “Twenty million, is that a lot? Don’t you understand what it means to live beyond your means?” My mother-in-law scoffed, “My daughter is constantly improving, her reputation growing. A mere twenty million? She could earn that by painting a few more pictures. And you? What do you do besides leech off her?” I said, “When she became a disciple of Master Chen, I arranged it. The five million dollar apprenticeship fee was also paid by me.” “Enough!” Lillian interrupted anxiously. “The accident… How is Adam?” “Who is Adam?” My mother-in-law asked, confused. I quickly explained, “That’s the male best friend she’s always with, her lover. Adam has been with her all these years. The reason for this accident was that Adam made… inappropriate gestures towards her while driving.” “What ‘always with her’? What are you talking about?!” My mother-in-law trembled with rage. I said, “The security cameras captured it, the traffic police told me.” “It’s too loud!” Lillian tried to sit up. “I need to see Adam…” It was then she realized her hands were gone. Lillian froze, then let out a heart-wrenching scream. “My hands… Where are my hands?!” She thrashed her legs like a madwoman, screaming and shouting. My mother-in-law tried to comfort her, but was kicked twice, her face turning red and swollen on one side. “You’re the one who ruined me!” Lillian’s eyes were bloodshot, glaring at me with venom. “It’s him!” My mother-in-law also cursed, “This useless cripple did it on purpose!” I shook my head. “I rushed here as soon as I got the call, but I couldn’t pay for the surgery. I went to Mom to borrow money, but she insisted it was a scam. See, the recording’s right here.” I played the recording from before. “Call the Ace…” “Grand Slam!” “I am your daughter’s surgeon…” Hearing the recording, Lillian’s eyes widened in fury, glaring at her mother with gritted teeth. So consumed by playing cards, she didn’t care about her daughter’s life—it was utterly heartless! If not for her addiction to cards, she wouldn’t have lost her hands! “Oh, my dearest daughter, how could Mom ever harm you…?” Seeing the situation turning, my mother-in-law immediately tried to justify herself. “You gave me the money back then, telling me to keep it from him, that’s why I didn’t give it to him. You can’t blame me entirely!” “This useless cripple didn’t explain the situation clearly either; it’s all his fault!” My mother-in-law dumped the blame squarely on me. “Shut up!” My father-in-law lost his temper, slapping my mother-in-law’s face. He yelled, “Always playing cards and gambling, hurting yourself and others! Our daughter was ruined because of you!” My mother-in-law, slapped, sat on the floor, wailing.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391579”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The car crash that killed my parents happened while I was on the operating table, undergoing an abortion. It was our second child, mine and Jace Frost’. At my parents’ funeral, I called Jace again and again. Until his childhood sweetheart, Nora Vance, answered, her tone sharp with impatience: “Jace is washing strawberries for me. What do you want?” Clutching the urn with my parents’ ashes, my expression was distant. “Nothing. Just tell Jace, after you’ve finished your strawberries, that I agree to the divorce.” 1 I cremated my parents’ bodies alone. Along with the second child I had deliberately ended, the one I shared with my husband, Jace Frost. All my loved ones in this world were confined together in that small incinerator. Reduced to a handful of ashes. But it didn’t matter anymore. I was dying too. My parents had been kind people their entire lives; many relatives and friends attended their funeral. The only one conspicuously absent was Jace. My parents’ dearest friend, Uncle Ben, mentioned Jace’s name and shook his head with resentment, his eyes full of pity when he looked at me. They all said very similar things: “The Peterson couple, kind their whole lives, ended up supporting an ungrateful viper like Jace Frost!” Dressed in black mourning clothes, clutching the urn, I walked along the path to the burial site. The sky was overcast. My lower abdomen still throbbed faintly; I slowly touched it. It had once nurtured two unborn children. What a pity… Never mind. Their father didn’t love me, so he wouldn’t have loved them either. The half of my wrist exposed from the sleeve of my mourning gown was thin and withered. I remembered the doctor saying I had three months left to live. In these three months, I would take my parents’ and baby’s ashes to see the world one last time. Without Jace. I took out my phone and dialed the number I knew by heart. Again and again, no answer. Not until the 13th attempt did it finally connect. But it was Nora who spoke, her voice petulant and demanding: “Big sis, it’s four in the morning in Los Angeles!” In the past, I would have hysterically cursed her. But now, my heart was calm, devoid of emotion. I simply said, “I need to speak to Jace about something.” Nora scoffed, utterly impatient. “Jace is washing strawberries for me. What do you want?” Before I could answer, she sneered again, “Don’t you think you’re being too possessive? We just finished a big meeting, and Jace and I are both exhausted. Just tell me directly whatever you want.” I was silent for a moment, my gaze falling on the urn in my arms. My expression was detached as I replied, “Nothing. After you’ve finished your strawberries, tell Jace I agree to the divorce.” Without waiting for her reaction, I hung up. I had loved Jace for ten years, binding him to me through marriage for five. But I still couldn’t warm his heart. Now, I chose to let go. The next time I heard from Jace was the following day. I was sorting through my parents’ belongings. Jace’s voice on the phone was filled with disgust: “Liv Peterson, what are you stirring up now?! I’ve told you countless times, taking Nora abroad this time was just for business cooperation!” “You deliberately made Nora cry again last night, saying you want to divorce me because of her. Nora was heartbroken all night. Do you find that amusing?” Nora was clearly the apple of Jace’s eye. He chose to believe even such a clumsy lie. In the past, I might have felt wronged and tried to explain. But now, he could believe whatever he wanted. I carefully wiped my parents’ photos, softly replying: “Alright. So when are you coming back to the country? We can go to the courthouse for the divorce.” His voice stopped then. A moment of silence. I thought he was considering the property division, so I reassured him: “Don’t worry, I don’t want a single penny from you. I’ll leave with nothing.” Anyway, I wouldn’t live much longer. Jace’s money? I didn’t want it; it felt dirty. Jace, however, gritted his teeth, his voice venomous: “Liv Peterson, I’m not divorcing you! You can forget about it!” With that, he hung up directly. I was speechless. He had left with a harsh threat before going abroad: “Liv Peterson, your family forced Nora away back then. You ruined her chance at happiness.” “If you keep acting up like this, we’ll get a divorce!” He had made that threat because Nora had shattered the urn containing my first child’s ashes. I had slapped her. Jace, who arrived when he heard the commotion, showed only disgust when he saw the ashes on the floor. Nora, crying, explained: “Jace, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, I was just scared…” Jace, hearing this, slapped me on Nora’s behalf. His voice filled with revulsion: “They’re already dead. Why keep the ashes in the house? It’s bad luck!” It was then that my heart finally died. He truly didn’t love me, to the point of utterly despising even the child I carried for him. So, on the third day of his trip abroad, I aborted the second child. It was a beautiful, sunny day. My parents had just attended my cousin’s wedding. They didn’t know I was pregnant yet, but they were so happy. They had just received an investment, and with that money, their bankrupt factory could reopen. Just as I was about to call them, I received a recording from an unknown number. The recording contained only Jace’s voice. He said: “…Nora’s brother’s leukemia is a ticking time bomb. Luckily, Liv is still useful. I’ll have another child with her. The baby’s cord blood can save him…” I was thunderstruck. I had always known Jace didn’t love me. But I never imagined he would manipulate me to such an extent! So I gave up. In that moment, the last shred of my love for Jace vanished. I went directly to the hospital for an abortion. But I never expected that my parents would be rear-ended by a dump truck. And perish. Jace returned home on the third day. At that time, I had just returned from the hospital with my medication. A bag full of painkillers. The doctor who prescribed them had a solemn expression and asked me, “Ms. Peterson, where are your family members? Painkillers will only worsen your condition—” I curved my lips, a faint smile forcing its way onto my gaunt, hollow cheeks. “I know. But my family is all gone. I don’t want to live anymore.” The doctor’s words froze. He looked at me with pity. I wore the oversized coat my mother bought me, but it still couldn’t hide the cold that chilled me to the bone. I was truly sick; my physical condition was too poor. I tightened my coat and opened the villa door, only to see Jace sitting on the sofa. When he saw me, he stood up and walked over. But I recoiled a step, as if his aristocratic aura had stung my eyes. His eyes, which had initially held a flicker of expectation, were now covered by a thick cloud of gloom. “Where have you been?” He looked down at me, his voice harsh. I blinked, ignoring the cufflink on his wrist, and said nothing. I had seen that cufflink just two weeks ago on Nora’s social media. It was her birthday gift to him, a custom design. All the gifts I had given him over the years had been discarded for various reasons. A handmade cup, given to a subordinate as an ashtray; a coat that took six months to tailor, later used as a mat for Nora’s dog; even the pregnancy test results for our first meticulously planned child, torn up carelessly… For ten years, I had tirelessly pursued Jace, caring for him, worrying about him, loving him. Now, I was tired. “Why did you go to the hospital? Why do you look so pale? Do you have a fever?” He frowned, stepping closer, reaching to check my forehead, but I dodged him. “Don’t trouble yourself, Mr. Frost. I’m fine.” I lowered my gaze, suddenly understanding Jace’s past feelings. It turned out that when you no longer loved someone, even trying to make small talk with them was exhausting. “It’s still early. We still have time to go to the courthouse.” I returned to the master bedroom, put away my medication, and then went downstairs with our marriage certificate. Only to be met with Jace’s astonished expression. I asked him, “Didn’t you want a divorce? I agree. Let’s go.” Jace’s face instantly turned ashen. As if struck in a raw nerve, he pointed at my nose and roared, “Liv Peterson, what do you mean by this?!” “Why are all you Petersons so selfish? Your parents, seeing my potential, forced me to marry you just because your family supported me for a few years!” “And then used their power to force Nora to study abroad at a young age!” “Now that I’ve made a name for myself, your family is still insatiable, wanting to divorce me to get a share of my earnings so you can run off with your lover?!” He finished his outburst, like an enraged lion, his face contorted in a snarl. Yet, I couldn’t help but want to laugh. And I did. The tremors in my abdomen exacerbated the ache in my muscles, and tears streamed down my face as I laughed uncontrollably. So, my parents, these good people who spent years on charity. Sponsoring Jace Frost, a brilliant student whose parents had died, was that wrong? My secret decade-long love for Jace, begging my parents to secretly give Jace’s startup a project, was that wrong? My mother, believing Nora’s artistic talent was better suited for a prestigious foreign art school, sponsoring her studies abroad—was that wrong too? “…Hahahaha, yes, I was wrong…” My chest ached from laughing, my mouth filled with the taste of blood. “My whole life, I’ve been utterly, disastrously wrong…” Jace seemed startled by my hysteria. He stared at me coldly, grinding his teeth as he spoke: “Tell me, was this another one of your parents’ snobbish ideas? “Tell them to come speak to me themselves!” I closed my eyes, letting tears stream down my face. Remembering my parents’ bloody bodies after the car crash, only regret remained in my chest. Just then, there was a knock at the door. It was our next-door neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Davies. They were close friends with my parents but had settled abroad. They had rushed back after hearing the news of my parents’ passing. Mrs. Davies’ eyes were red and swollen from crying. She trembled as she hugged me: “I’m so sorry, Liv. We’re too late…” Mr. Davies wiped his tears, choking out: “The Petersons never did a bad thing in their lives. How could they just be gone like that?!” The grief and regret in their voices seemed genuine. Seconds later, Jace’s incredulous voice rang out: “Who did you say passed away?” I looked at Jace with red eyes and a cold sneer. “You hate my parents so much, shouldn’t you be happy they’re gone?” Jace, however, opened his mouth, speechless for a moment. Mrs. Davies hadn’t recognized Jace. As if remembering something, she asked me, “You didn’t end up with that young man your family sponsored, did you? Oh, back when your factory was struggling and cash flow was tight, your dad specifically borrowed thirty thousand dollars from me to pay for that boy’s tuition. He said the boy was very talented and would surely achieve great things in the future…” CRASH! It was the sound of Jace bumping into furniture. His face was pale, as if he couldn’t believe it. But I just tugged at the corner of my mouth, telling Mrs. Davies, “Let’s not talk about that, Mrs. Davies. I’ll take you to see my parents.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391597”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

At 2:00 AM, my ex-boyfriend called and said he wanted to get back together. With red, tear-filled eyes, I agreed. But on the other end of the line, the room erupted into thunderous, mocking laughter. “I told you guys. This woman, Chloe, is so pathetic that all I have to do is crook my finger, and she’ll come crawling right back to me.” I didn’t get angry. I just asked him if what he said a second ago still counted. “Ethan, as long as you come back, you can do whatever you want to me…” Dead silence fell over the other end of the line. “Chloe! I’m Liam! What the hell are you talking about? Who the fuck is Ethan?!” 1 In the middle of the night, I was running a fever. Through my hazy, dizzy state, I heard my phone ring. I answered it. There was a lot of background noise and rowdy shouting. After a long moment, a man’s magnetic voice finally reached my ear. “Chloe, I miss you.” That familiar voice instantly brought tears to my eyes. For the past few months, I had only been able to fall asleep with the help of sleeping pills. Hearing his voice again, I couldn’t help but choke on a sob. “I miss you too.” Soon, the voice on the other end spoke again. “Chloe, let’s stop fighting. Let’s get back together.” His voice was like aged, rich red wine, instantly intoxicating me. My feverish body broke out in a sweat, soaking through my pajamas. My long fingernails dug into the edge of my phone case. Barely able to suppress my crying, I eagerly nodded and agreed. But immediately after, the other end of the line erupted in roaring laughter. “Liam is the absolute man! Two words and he gets his ex-girlfriend kneeling and begging like a dog!” “Does anyone actually fall for the ‘2 AM let’s get back together’ routine? Liam, where did you find this freak? When you guys were together, she served you like you were royalty. It’s been three months since you dumped her, and she’s still obsessed with you.” “That’s just the irresistible charm of our guy Liam. When they were dating, he’d tell her to get lost, and she’d roll over like an obedient puppy.” “One time Liam was out on a date with another girl, and with one phone call, Chloe literally drove over to deliver him condoms.” “How can someone be that pathetic?” “Like I said, Liam’s charm is unmatched. I’ll take the penalty drink for this round.” The phone line was filled with their unbridled, cruel mockery. Finally, Liam’s voice sounded again: “I told you all. Chloe is completely pathetic. All I have to do is crook my finger, and she’ll come crawling right back, begging for attention.” Liam’s voice was still deep and magnetic, but now it was laced with smug arrogance. Then, he addressed me: “Chloe, we’re playing Truth or Dare. Thanks for taking the penalty for me.” His tone was completely dismissive. He was ready to hang up. But I didn’t want to miss this incredibly rare opportunity. I hurriedly asked: “Did you mean what you said just now?” The other end froze. Even the background music seemed to lower in volume. “Chloe, are you mentally ill? Did you honestly think I called you at 2 AM because I actually wanted to get back together?” Liam cursed at me. I ignored it, insisting: “You said it, and I agreed.” Saying that, I couldn’t hold back my cries anymore. My voice filled with desperation as I lowered myself to the absolute dust: “Ethan… as long as you come back, you can do whatever you want to me…” No response. For a long, long time, it was dead silent. And then, came Liam’s furious, explosive roar: “Chloe! You better explain yourself right now! Who the fuck is Ethan?!” 2 Ethan. That name accompanied me through my entire youth. In a daze, I was transported back to the summer I was sixteen, the first time I ever saw him. Those were the darkest days of my life. My grandmother, the only person I had left in the world, had passed away. I became an unleashed, rabid dog, completely letting myself rot in the mud. After getting caught in yet another violent fight, my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Davis, gave me an ultimatum. If my parents didn’t show up, she was going to report me to the school board and have me expelled. I didn’t care. I leaned lazily against the wall and said dismissively, “My dad’s in Canada, my mom’s in Mexico. Neither of them can be reached. How about I summon my dead grandma’s ghost for you instead?” “Chloe!” Mrs. Davis was so furious with my attitude that she grabbed my arm, fully intending to drag me to the office to process my expulsion. That was exactly when Ethan appeared. He rushed into the hallway and stood protectively in front of me. His very first words were: “I apologize for being late. I am Chloe’s older brother.” Brother? I froze. Mrs. Davis froze too. Mrs. Davis froze because the man standing in front of her radiated a clean, sharp, and intimidating aura. Standing next to my frizzy, dyed hair and heavy, cheap makeup, we looked like we belonged in entirely different universes. I froze because I never knew my parents had a secret love child who was this old. So, I was immediately hostile toward him. “Bullshit! I don’t have a damn brother!” I started screaming and charged at him to push him away. But Ethan, who looked lean and intellectual, effortlessly restrained me with just one hand. At the same time, he calmly and politely apologized to Mrs. Davis. He promised her that from now on, he would keep me on a very tight leash. Thanks to his earnest pleading, Mrs. Davis decided to give me one last chance. Ethan physically dragged me all the way home. On the way, he shoved me into a hair salon. He had them chop off my messy, dyed hair and scrub off my heavy makeup. The mirror revealed my natural, original face. He stared at me for a moment, then smiled and ruffled my hair: “This looks so much better for a student.” I didn’t dodge. Taking advantage of the proximity, I lunged and bit down hard on the webbing of his hand. I didn’t succeed. Instead, he pinched my chin. “Tsk, such a fierce little girl?” “Get lost! I’m calling the cops! You’re a kidnapper!” I yelled at him, my words muffled. Even though Ethan was incredibly handsome, it didn’t stop me from hating him. Especially when he smiled—it was so bright it physically stung my eyes. I cursed, kicked, and fought. Ethan didn’t get angry. He let me throw my tantrum until I finally ran out of energy. Only then did he slowly explain: “I’m not a kidnapper. Your parents entrusted me to take care of you.” “Bullshit! They don’t give a damn about me! If they did, why didn’t they even show up when Grandma died?!” I tried to act like I didn’t care, but as I screamed at him, my voice broke. I glared at him with red, tear-filled eyes. My cheeks felt itchy, and then wet… Ethan fell silent. He let go of my chin. After a long pause, he promised me: “Once you get into college, they’ll come back.” I thought about it for a second, then replied: “In their dreams.” 3 Whether I agreed or not didn’t matter. Ethan aggressively moved into my apartment. I tried calling the cops on him once, but Ethan somehow produced a legally binding guardianship document, physically signed by my parents. It left me completely speechless. I gave up. I decided to treat him like he was invisible. It was a two-bedroom apartment. I had one room, and Grandma used to have the other. Now he lived in Grandma’s room. He actually started preparing three meals a day and taking over all the household chores. A free maid? Why not. Once I rationalized it, I accepted his presence without any guilt. But one thing was incredibly annoying. He demanded I come home immediately after school every day. No matter which shady internet cafe I hid in, he would always track me down and drag me out. As soon as I got home, he checked my homework. When I said I didn’t understand it, he actually sat right next to me and tutored me. Whatever I didn’t know, he knew how to teach. “Ethan, tell me the truth…” After being dragged home from an arcade yet again, I couldn’t help but ask: “Are you part of some secret reality show where you get a million dollars if you get me into college? Or is this the cure to a terminal illness you have?” Ethan flicked me hard on the forehead. “Going to college is for your own future.” “What’s the point of college?” I rubbed my forehead and complained: “It’s not like I actually want them to come back…” “Do you really not want them to come back?” Ethan cut me off. He looked at me, his tone dead serious: “Don’t you want to prove to them that even when you’re entirely on your own, you can still become something amazing?” My fingers curled inward. My heart swelled in my chest. He had a tiny tear mole at the corner of his eye. I looked into his eyes, and it felt like they held an entire galaxy. They were so, so bright… 4 Midterm exams. I went from being the second-worst student in my grade to the top fifty. When the grades were posted, no one could believe it. I was ecstatic. All I could think about was how I was going to tell Ethan the good news that night. I planned to lie to him, tell him I was still second-to-last, and use it to extort a massive plate of his homemade BBQ ribs to comfort me. Ethan’s BBQ ribs were genuinely incredible. I was happily plotting my deception, but before the school day even ended, Mrs. Davis called me into the office… She suspected me of cheating and threatened to void my scores. That night, I went straight to a club. 5 Ethan was the one who bailed me out of the police precinct. According to the officers… They raided the club and rounded up a bunch of underage drinkers. I was the most obvious one—wearing a high school uniform, completely wasted, grinding on the dance floor with a bunch of shady guys, having the time of my life. Ethan’s face was completely black. I saw him speaking quietly with the officers, then signing a document before walking over to lead me out of the precinct. Honestly, I hadn’t drank that much. Plus, standing in the freezing, drafty hallway of the police station had sobered me up considerably. The entire ride home, Ethan didn’t say a single word to me. Seeing his stone-cold face ignited my own temper. I stubbornly marched toward my bedroom door, but he stopped me: “Hold it! Do you not have anything to say for yourself?” That single command triggered every rebellious bone in my body. “I don’t need you to manage me! You aren’t my dad, and you aren’t my mom! Do you really think a piece of paper gives you the right to control my life?!” Ethan strode toward me. Even though he was lean, when his face went cold, his aura was absolutely terrifying. He stopped right in front of me. He was a full head taller than me. Looking down at me, his face was like ice, and his voice was harsher than it had ever been: “Do you have any idea how disappointed your parents would be if they saw you like this?!” Hearing that, I violently hurled my backpack at him and screamed hysterically: “How disappointed could they possibly be?! The grass on their graves is probably taller than me by now! They don’t know shit!” I watched Ethan’s icy facade shatter into a million pieces. The atmosphere stagnated for a long, agonizing moment before his low voice finally broke the silence: “Since when did you know?” I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug into my palms. The adrenaline and alcohol surged back to my head, making my entire body burn. Biting my lip, I stared directly into his eyes and enunciated every single word: “Don’t treat me like a child. I understand everything. I know my parents are dead! You hid it from me, Grandma hid it from me… I know a lot of things. I know they were undercover cops. And I know you’re a cop too!” 6 My head was spinning. The memories of the past flooded my brain like a tidal wave, making my already throbbing head feel like it was going to split open. Through the phone, Liam was still demanding an answer. I snapped back to reality and replied purely on instinct: “Where are you? I want… I want to see you right now.” I missed him so much. I truly, desperately wanted to see him right now. The other end went silent. I could hear the mocking, teasing voices in the background. Some said I was shameless, others said I was playing hard to get, and some laughed, asking if Liam was getting anxious. Finally, Liam texted me an address. I didn’t even bother getting dressed up. I rushed out the door. When I arrived at the bar, Liam’s group hadn’t left. Seeing my pale, sickly face, Liam, who was sitting in the center of the booth, froze for a second. “Chloe, it’s only been a few months. Do you… look like you’re about to drop dead?” I didn’t care. I ignored the sneering, judgmental stares of everyone in the room and walked straight up to him. But as my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and I got a clear look at Liam’s face, a surge of indescribable fury exploded in my chest. “Where is your tear mole?” I reached out, grabbed his chin, and frantically inspected his face. It had only been a few months. Liam’s face was different. The corner of his eye, the bridge of his nose… but most importantly, the tear mole at the corner of his eye—the exact same mole Ethan had—was gone. He didn’t look like Ethan anymore! Annoyed by my grabbing, Liam shoved me away roughly, his tone impatient: “That mole was ugly as hell. I’ve been wanting to get it lasered off for a long time. I look way better now.” He touched his own face, smiling confidently. But I suddenly lunged at him like a maniac, tearing at his clothes. “Who gave you permission to remove it?! You don’t look anything like him anymore!” I had searched so hard and finally found an existence so similar to him, and now Liam had ruined it! I projected all my rage onto the man in front of me. I stood up to leave, but my arm was grabbed violently. “What the hell do you mean? Like who? This ‘Ethan’ guy? Chloe! You better explain right now, who the fuck is Ethan?!” Liam finally remembered his earlier question, his voice sharp with interrogation. Someone tried to break it up. “Liam, calm down. Chloe is definitely just playing mind games…” “Yeah, this guy definitely doesn’t even exist.” Hearing this, Liam’s expression relaxed slightly. The way he looked at me grew even more contemptuous. He said: “If you want to get back together, show some sincerity. Don’t just make up some random name, using a nonexistent ghost to try and play me…” Liam didn’t get to finish his sentence. I slapped him across the face as hard as I physically could. With one hundred percent of my strength. “Who are you calling nonexistent?! Ethan isn’t dead! HE ISN’T!” “Chloe, have you lost your fucking mind?! Are you crazy?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391614”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I was seven, my older brother was too busy chasing a scholarship girl to watch me, which resulted in me being kidnapped. By the time I finally escaped and made it back home years later, that same scholarship girl had essentially taken my place, living as the fake heiress of our family. Wearing an outrageously expensive princess dress, she pinched her nose and looked at me with undisguised disgust. “She smells terrible. Do you think she has some kind of infectious disease?” And just like that, the way my parents looked at me shifted. My brother’s face was filled with outright revulsion. “Why did you have to come back and ruin our perfect lives?” That was the moment I realized the fake heiress was also my brother’s fiancée! In the end, I was tortured to death by her, while my parents and brother watched, completely indifferent to my suffering. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to being a five-year-old. This was the exact year my parents’ corporate rivals targeted my brother, intending to kidnap him to force my parents into surrendering a massive contract. This time, I chose to be selectively blind. My useless brother and my heavily biased parents can all go straight to hell! 1 “Little girl, go tell your mom and dad to drop the current project, or they’ll never see your brother again.” A middle-aged man wearing a baseball cap and a surgical mask growled at me viciously. His hand was clamped tightly around my brother’s arm. At this time, my brother was just a little kid—not tall, not strong, and not yet the malicious monster he would become. The look he gave me wasn’t filled with hatred, but with pure terror and desperate pleading. A large, dark wet spot was spreading across the front of his Spider-Man jeans. My brother had peed himself. I feigned an expression of utter horror, nodding my head frantically like a woodpecker. Satisfied, the kidnapper scooped my brother up and swaggered away, tossing him into a black Honda. He didn’t even bother to cover or remove the license plate. What kind of amateur kidnapper was this? “Wow, that smells so good! What is that?” I sniffed the air, following the sweet scent until I found myself in front of a small convenience store. The colorful cotton candy looked absolutely delicious. By the time I happily waddled home clutching my cotton candy, my parents had already returned. Seeing me alone, they looked confused. “Where’s your brother?” I took a small lick of my cotton candy, answering in my sweetest, most innocent toddler voice: “I don’t know~ The cotton candy is so yummy! Do Mommy and Daddy want a bite?” My parents searched the house for a while, then combed the neighborhood multiple times. Finding absolutely no trace of my brother, panic finally set in, and they called 911. But in an era before security cameras were on every corner, finding human traffickers was like finding a needle in a haystack. The police officer looked puzzled: “This doesn’t make sense. Your gated community has excellent security. How could kidnappers even get in? I just spoke with the guards, and they didn’t see anyone suspicious entering or leaving.” My mother collapsed onto the floor, wailing uncontrollably. My father was yanking his own hair out, consumed by grief. I sat on the edge of the planter box, swinging my little legs, watching them unblinkingly with my wide, innocent eyes. They looked so heartbroken, so devastated. So why, in my past life, when they watched me being tortured to death right in front of them, were they so utterly indifferent? Right. My brother’s life mattered to them. Mine didn’t. Since that’s how it is, then none of you deserve to have a good life. 2 By that afternoon, missing person flyers with my brother’s face were plastered across every street and alley, and the story was broadcast on the local news, offering a $30,000 reward. In this era, $30,000 was a massive sum of money. Initially, I had wondered if the kidnappers would reach out to negotiate privately. But the moment those flyers went up, I knew my brother was never coming back. A private ransom exchange was now completely off the table. With countless major and minor cases occurring every day, my brother’s kidnapping case was eventually moved to the cold case files. In my past life, because I remembered the license plate number and told the police, they easily tracked down and rescued my brother. His repayment for my saving his life was negligently allowing me to be kidnapped when I was seven. After all, we were biological siblings; the same blood ran in our veins. Returning the favor is only fair, right? … As I grew, I gradually revealed my intelligence and business acumen, occasionally suggesting highly profitable investment ideas. Slowly, these successes pulled my parents out of the abyss of losing their son. My father happily ruffled my hair: “Mia really is our lucky charm. She’s helped Mom and Dad make so much money.” I giggled sweetly: “I saw on TV that rich people live in huge houses with giant swimming pools in the front! It looks so cool!” “Mom, Dad, let’s move to a big house too! If we live next to other rich people, maybe we can share ideas and make even more money!” “I heard people say that your social circle is the most important thing!” My words struck a chord. My parents exchanged a look. The money we were making now was more than enough to buy a luxury villa. But deep down, they were still holding onto the hope that my brother might be found. What if he came back and they had moved? So, I had to completely sever that hope and erase every last trace of my brother from their lives. My father nodded decisively: “Alright, we’ll listen to Mia. Your social circle is everything.” The very next day, my parents started house hunting. They eventually spent a fortune on a massive estate in the city center, surrounded by neighbors who were either old money or political heavyweights. With my adorable looks and sweet talking, I easily won over the neighbors. Carrying plates of my mother’s homemade cookies, I visited several of the surrounding households and quickly built a rapport with them. Because of these connections, my parents secured several major contracts. Even though they intentionally bid low to the point of breaking even, the crucial relationships were established. I took the opportunity to speak up: “Mom, Dad, you guys are always so busy with work, and it gets so quiet and lonely at home when I’m by myself. Why don’t we adopt a brother so he can play with me?” Why a brother? Because I needed to completely obliterate my biological brother’s position in my parents’ hearts. If he miraculously managed to find his way back, my deeply misogynistic parents would immediately hand all my hard-earned accomplishments over to him. Acting as his stepping stone? Not a chance in hell. At this point, my parents doted on me completely and agreed without hesitation. 3 You can’t choose your biological parents, so if they’re garbage, you’re stuck with them. But I could choose an adopted brother. Naturally, I was going to pick one that suited my exact needs. I have a severe allergy to stupidity, so anyone dim-witted was immediately disqualified. Ugly ones were out too; it ruins the appetite. The most important criteria were a good personality and a genuinely kind heart. I absolutely refused to deal with a second ungrateful, backstabbing brother. After scouring every orphanage in the city, I finally found a boy who met all my requirements. What really sealed the deal was the faint glint of fierce determination hidden deep in his eyes. In my past life, I dealt with monsters and demons of all kinds. A kid with that kind of edge would be hard to control if I met him as an adult, but grooming him from a young age? That sounded incredibly rewarding. “My brother got lost. Do you want to be my brother?” I pulled a piece of premium milk candy from my pocket and placed it in his slender hand, my voice soft and sweet: “I have so many toys and snacks, and I can share half of everything with you. Do you want to come home with me?” No little boy could resist a kid as cute as me, and he was no exception. He carefully took the candy from my hand, making sure his fingers didn’t brush against mine, seemingly terrified he might get my hands dirty. I, however, proactively grabbed his hand and happily paraded him in front of my parents. “Mom, Dad, I really like this brother.” My parents were pleased with his appearance. After asking him a few questions and finding him to be exceptionally well-mannered and polite, they agreed to the adoption. … I gave him a new name: Julian. Julian Vance. Because his eyes were as beautiful as a starry night. He moved into the bedroom directly across from mine. The layout was identical to my room. It was the room my parents had been saving for my biological brother, but now, it belonged to Julian. At the dinner table, he sat in the seat to my father’s right—the seat that used to belong to my brother. Gradually, he truly replaced my brother’s presence entirely. My parents started taking him everywhere out of habit. Even in private conversations, they casually referred to him as “our son.” At first, Julian was a bit timid, but under my influence, he grew outgoing and fiercely confident. However, my initial display of adorable vulnerability must have left a permanent imprint on him. Because of it, he truly treated me like a fragile little sister who needed constant protection. Every night, he read me fairy tales until I fell asleep. He would quietly transfer the vegetables I hated from my plate onto his and eat them without a word. If I accidentally bumped into a table and bruised myself, he looked like he wished he could absorb the pain for me. 4 In the blink of an eye, we were in high school. Surrounded by love and support, Julian had blossomed into a brilliant, radiant young man. The moment he stepped onto campus, he caused an absolute sensation. Even though he was older, we were in the same grade and the same class. It was both my parents’ wish and his own insistence, so he could protect me more closely. Simultaneously, an old acquaintance made her appearance: Chloe Jenkins. The very same fake heiress who had personally orchestrated my torture and death in my past life. She looked delicate and fragile. Every smile, every frown radiated a pitiful, “damsel in distress” aura. Her large, watery eyes were specifically engineered to elicit sympathy. “Julian, look at three o’clock. Do you think that girl is pretty?” Julian followed my gaze and saw Chloe, standing there in a plain white sundress, her long black hair blowing in the wind. He looked confused but answered seriously, “I don’t know. Maybe she’s the type other guys like?” More than just what guys like, I thought. She was the exact type my biological brother would be obsessed with. He was so obsessed he watched his own sister suffer a fate worse than death just to please her. I licked my lips and asked, “Do you like that type?” A flash of absolute disgust crossed his eyes, though his face remained perfectly composed and polite. “I don’t.” I chuckled. “Then what type do you like?” He looked down at me, raising an eyebrow. “I like girls who are arrogant, demanding, bossy, and totally unreasonable.” Me: ? … Chloe was in our class. She didn’t test in; she was an access student. The designated “scholarship case.” Every year, our elite prep school admitted a few scholarship students to maintain the illusion of an egalitarian, merit-based tradition. In reality, these scholarship kids were usually bullied relentlessly, considering everyone else was either a corporate heir or old money. In my past life, because my biological brother acted as her aggressive, violent bodyguard, she basically ruled the school. But this time, my brother wasn’t here. I couldn’t wait to see how she planned to survive. The first period was dedicated to self-introductions. Everyone confidently walked up to the podium, completely unfazed. We were all used to large crowds and high-pressure situations, so a simple classroom introduction was nothing. When it was Chloe’s turn, her face flushed crimson. She acted painfully shy, twisting her hands together, refusing to walk up. “I… I’m too embarrassed.” The teacher smiled kindly. “It’s okay! We’re all meeting for the first time, don’t be nervous. Class, let’s give her a warm round of applause!” The class applauded politely. Seeing I didn’t clap, Julian kept his hands resting on his desk as well. But after three rounds of applause, the class was visibly annoyed. Chloe still hadn’t moved. She bit her lip, her face turning even redder, and tears began to well up in her eyes. What an absolutely pathetic display.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391632”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel