Category: English

I was born with a glitch in my DNA. The moment the diagnosis came in, my father vanished, taking what little pride he had left and leaving us with a mountain of medical bills that swallowed my mother’s savings in months. To keep me alive, my mother moved us into the homes of strangers—men she didn’t love but who had the means to keep my heart beating. David was the third “uncle.” The arrangement was simple, though never spoken aloud: David wanted a legacy, and my mother needed a miracle. Within a year, her belly was swollen with my brother. Ten months later, she handed David a healthy baby boy. In exchange, he settled the initial $80,000 for my specialty treatments. When she was ready to pack our bags and move on, David stopped her. He told her that if she stayed, he would treat me like his own. He slid a credit card across the kitchen table, promising to cover every experimental trial, every vial of the expensive stuff. My mother looked at me—pale, fragile, and tethered to a nebulous future—and she nodded. They had a small ceremony a few weeks later. That night, she peeled off the modest lace dress she’d bought for the courthouse and put back on her faded, oversized flannel shirt. She pulled me into her lap, her voice a soothing hum. “Don’t be scared, Daisy,” she whispered, rocking me. “I’d do anything to keep you here. You’re my heart. You’ll always be the one I love most.” To prove it, she kept my brother, Toby, at a distance. She rarely held him when I was in the room; she rarely smiled at him if she thought I was watching. She was trying to protect me from the one thing she couldn’t fix: the feeling of being replaced. But everything shattered when Toby turned three. He found my pills on the nightstand, thinking they were those bright, sour candies he saw on TV. He swallowed a handful before my mother found him. I remember the terror in her eyes as she shoved her fingers down his throat, trying to make him gag, before she finally collapsed into a scream that tore through the house. “You monster!” she shrieked at me, her face contorted in a way I’d never seen. “I’ve given up everything for you! Isn’t it enough? Why do you have to destroy your brother too?” “I’m so tired, Daisy. I’ve been tired for years. Why… why won’t you just die already?!” David rushed in, scooped up a sobbing Toby and my shaking mother, and ran for the car. I stood by the window, watching the taillights fade into the rainy October night. I turned back to the room. I knelt on the floor and picked up the stray pills, one by one. Each one represented a day of her life she’d sold for me. Mom, I thought, swallowing the bitter tablets without water. I’m done being the weight around your neck. 1 My insides felt like they were being eaten by wildfire. I couldn’t stop the low, ragged moans escaping my throat. But even through the haze of pain, my mind drifted back to her. “At least Mom bought the expensive ones,” I whispered to the empty room. I remembered the day at the clinic. The doctor offered two options: the generic brand, which was harsh and unpredictable, or the premium version—devastatingly expensive, but with fewer side effects. My mother hadn’t even blinked. She chose the premium. She’d literally sold her body’s future to David to ensure I suffered just a little bit less. “Mom doesn’t mind,” she used to tell me, brushing the hair from my damp forehead. “I just want my girl to have a little peace.” The burning shifted into a sharp, stabbing agony. My breath came in short, jagged hitches, and tears leaked onto my pillow. I wanted her. I wanted her to hold my hand and tell me about the stars. But the thought died as soon as it formed. She was at the hospital with Toby. She was exhausted. I couldn’t be her emergency anymore. I tried to mimic her touch, patting my own back with a trembling hand, pretending it was her soothing me to sleep. Then, a cold realization hit. If she came home and found me like this, she’d scream. She’d call 911. She’d spend more money she didn’t have to “save” me again. She’d cry until her eyes turned red. I didn’t want her to be tired. I didn’t want her to pay. I didn’t want to be the reason she cried ever again. With every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed myself off the bed. I crawled, inch by agonizing inch, out the door and up the narrow stairs to the attic. I found a corner behind a stack of old holiday decorations and tucked myself away. As the darkness started to bleed into my vision, my last thought was a question: This time, will the medicine finally defeat the monster inside me? I don’t know how much time passed, but I woke up. I was back in my bedroom. Or rather, I was hovering in it. The room looked the same. My handmade stuffed bunny was sitting on the nightstand. Mom had been knitting it for weeks. If it weren’t for Toby constantly interrupting her, demanding she make him a superhero instead, she would have finished it yesterday. She’d snapped at him for it, too. “It doesn’t matter how much you cry, Toby! I’m finishing the bunny for your sister first!” she’d yelled. “And shut up! Daisy just took her meds. If you wake her, God help me!” Toby had wailed louder, and she’d dragged him out of the house. Now, I heard muffled voices coming from the hallway. “Toby is your flesh and blood too, Sarah,” David was saying, his voice thick with frustration. “Why are you so cold to him? You’re obsessed with her, but look at the reality. The doctors said she won’t even make it through the year.” “Keep your voice down!” Mom hissed. “What if she hears you? I won’t have her last months filled with your pessimism.” A moment later, the door creaked open. Mom stepped in. She looked at the bed—at the shape under the covers—and let out a long, shuddering breath. She walked over and pressed a soft kiss to the forehead of the girl lying there. I felt a pang of ghostly guilt. I’d always been so proud of how well I could “fake sleep” so she wouldn’t have to explain her tears to me. It’s okay, Mom, I thought, reaching out to touch the bunny. If you’re happy, I’m happy. But my hand passed right through the plush fabric. It was like trying to touch a shadow. The sound of keys jingling at the front door pulled my attention away. They were home. 2 Mom was carrying a white box from the local bakery—the one with the expensive strawberry shortcake. I did a little spin in the air, a giggle bubbling in my chest. “Mom! How did you know I had a craving for strawberries today? You really are the best.” Then I heard Toby’s weak, small voice. “Mommy, I’m hungry.” Mom knelt beside him, stroking his hair with a tenderness I rarely saw her show him. “I know, baby. This cake is just for you. Come here, let Mommy feed you.” She took him from David’s arms and sat him at the kitchen island, spooning bits of cream and cake into his mouth. “It’s sweet, Mommy. I like it.” Mom smiled, a genuine, glowing look that reached her eyes. “Then Mommy will buy it for you every single day.” Toby’s eyes darted around, a bit of toddler mischief returning. “Mean sister made Toby’s tummy hurt. She doesn’t get any cake.” I hovered near them, crossing my arms and making a face at him. “Nice try, Toby. Strawberries are my favorite. She bought that for me.” But then Mom leaned down and kissed Toby’s forehead. “You’re right, baby. Only for Toby. Not for the mean sister.” I froze. Was she still angry about the pills? I’d tried so hard to keep them safe. I always tightened the child-proof caps until my fingers were raw. “Mom, look!” I cried out, holding up my hands. “I tried! I really tried!” But my hands were translucent. No marks, no scars. And she couldn’t hear a word I said. Because Daisy was dead. David broke the silence. “Sarah, that cake is huge. Toby can’t finish it. I’ll go wake Daisy so she can have some too.” He took a step toward my room, but Mom’s voice stopped him cold. “She doesn’t deserve a bite.” The venom in her tone made me flinch. “If I hadn’t been fast enough to clear Toby’s throat, we’d be at a funeral right now. I’m done with her tantrums.” I threw myself into her lap, trying to wrap my arms around her. Mom, I’m right here. I’m right in front of you. You said no matter what I did, if I gave you a hug, you’d forgive me. Please. David sighed, walking to my door and knocking softly. “Daisy? You awake, honey? Toby’s okay now. Just come out and apologize, and we can move past this, okay?” Silence. Toby started fussing again. “She won’t come out. She’s being bad.” Mom’s brow furrowed. “She’s hiding because she knows she’s wrong. Does she really expect me to go in there and coddle her? I’ve spent every waking hour of the last eight years catering to her. Not once has she shown an ounce of gratitude. Honestly, David… sometimes I think about how much easier our lives would be if I’d just stopped the treatments years ago.” She looked at David, her expression terrifyingly calm. “We could have been a normal family. We could have been happy.” I clung to her, my soul shaking. “Mom, you’re just tired. You don’t mean that. Tell me you don’t mean that.” I looked for a tear, a crack in her mask. There was nothing. She looked relieved, as if a weight had already been lifted. But you told me I was your happiness, I whispered. You told me I was the only thing that made it all worth it. Was it all a lie? David rubbed her shoulders. “Go put Toby to bed. Daisy’s meds are due in ten minutes. I’ll go in and talk to her. Let’s just try to make her last few months… peaceful.” Mom didn’t answer. She just picked up Toby, gave him a quick bath, and disappeared into his room. David filled a glass of water and walked toward my door. 3 He stood outside the door for a moment, listening. He knocked again. “Daisy? Time for your pills. I’ve got your water.” Nothing. “Come on, kiddo. The doctor said you can’t miss a dose if you want to stay healthy. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” I stood next to him, trying to tug on his sleeve. “David, I’m not in there. I can’t open the door. Just go sit down.” His face darkened. “You’re being stubborn, Daisy. Your mother has sacrificed everything for you. The least you can do is show a little maturity.” I knew. I knew better than anyone. She’d married a man she didn’t like because her family needed the dowry. When I was born with the “glitch,” she was the only one who fought for me. My biological father called her a fool; he’d even tried to smother me in my crib one night to “end the misery.” Mom had chased him out of the house with a kitchen knife, her eyes bloodshot and wild. She’d worked three jobs. She’d spent every penny. And then, she’d found David. She’d traded the possibility of a “normal” child for the survival of a “broken” one. She’d had Toby just to pay for my vials. She’d nearly died on the delivery table twice, but she always went back to the hospital the next day to buy my medicine. One night, I’d told her, “Mom, it’s okay if we don’t buy the pills this month.” She hadn’t hesitated. “You have to take them, Daisy. You’re the only reason I have to wake up in the morning.” Back then, I didn’t fully understand. I just nodded and promised to be good. But now, listening to her sing a lullaby to Toby in the other room, I realized she’d found a new reason to wake up. The pain in my chest—my phantom chest—was worse than the medicine. David knocked a third time. His patience snapped. He reached for the handle. “Daisy, if you won’t talk, I’m coming in.” Suddenly, Mom marched out of Toby’s room, her face a mask of fury. She pushed past David and shoved the door open. “This is exactly what happens when you coddle her!” she yelled. “Daisy Miller, I am counting to three. If you aren’t sitting up and ready for these meds, I swear to God, I won’t even bother showing up to your funeral!” My heart skipped a beat. If she saw the empty bed, she’d know. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tight. In the weak light from the hallway, the life-sized bunny Mom had made—the one sitting propped up against the pillows—looked just like a small girl curled under the blankets. Mom saw the silhouette and her rage boiled over. “One!” “Two!” “Three!” The silhouette didn’t move. Mom let out a harsh, jagged laugh. She snatched the water glass from David’s hand and stormed toward the bed. 4 A loud thump echoed from the hallway, followed by Toby’s piercing scream. Mom spun on her heel, the water slopping over the edge of the glass as she ran back to Toby’s room. He’d tumbled out of bed. She scooped him up, hovering over him with frantic apologies. “Oh, Toby, Mommy’s so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you…” As he calmed down, he sniffled, clutching her neck. “Mommy stay with Toby tonight? No sister?” Mom sighed, a heavy, final sound. “She’s old enough to sleep on her own. It’s time she learned.” I felt the air go cold around me. Every night, after Toby fell asleep, Mom would come to my room. She’d say that hearing my steady breathing was the only thing that made her feel safe. I had been greedy enough to think that her favoritism would last until my very last breath. I started to cry, but then, a strange smile touched my lips. Someone was finally there to love her back. Toby would be the one to make her laugh now. Toby, I thought, I’m going now. You have to love her twice as much for me. Toby cheered up at her promise. Mom bopped his nose playfully. “Tomorrow is Saturday. Daddy and I are taking you to the carnival.” She raised her voice, clearly intending for “me” to hear it in the other room. “Sister is being a brat, so she doesn’t get to go.” David looked surprised. “Really? You’re leaving her behind?” Mom waited a beat, her jaw set. “Yes. I won’t let her hold Toby’s childhood hostage anymore.” Because of my health, we never went anywhere. The furthest I’d been was the hospital. Toby was three and had never even seen a carousel. David nodded. “You’re right. It’s heartbreaking, really. Toby falls and cries, and she doesn’t even peek her head out to check on him. She’s turned into a cold little thing.” Mom’s eyes hardened. “She’s just like her father. Ungrateful. Let’s sleep. We have to be at the gates early or the lines will be blocks long.” The lights went out. I curled up on the floor by the side of her bed, shivering even though I had no body to feel the cold. The next morning, Mom glanced at my door. The wind had blown it shut during the night. “We’re going to be out late,” David said, jingling the car keys. “Should we bring her? She’s light. I can carry her if she gets tired.” Mom shook her head. “No. Today is for Toby. If she’s there, we’ll just be walking on eggshells all day.” They left. But Mom, I whispered to the empty house, I’ve never been to a carnival either. Since I was a ghost, I figured it didn’t matter. I followed them. Toby was electric with joy. He saw the brightly colored horses of the grand carousel and bolted toward them. Mom chased after him, laughing. “Slow down, Toby! You’ll trip!” I watched from the sidelines as they rode the horses. Mom was glowing. It was a smile I hadn’t seen in years—one without the shadow of a hospital waiting room behind it. She looked beautiful. Without me, the wrinkles around her eyes would fade. The dark circles would disappear. She would finally be the woman she was meant to be. After the ride, David bought two huge strawberry ice cream cones. Mom started humming a song—my favorite song, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Toby licked his ice cream. “Mommy, let’s come here every day. Just us. No mean sister.” Mom’s face clouded over for a second. “Toby, don’t say that. Your sister is very sick. We have to take care of her.” Toby pouted, but Mom didn’t smile this time. He realized he’d crossed a line. “Sorry, Mommy. Nice sister.” David, who had been checking his phone, suddenly frowned. “That’s weird. The security app hasn’t sent a single notification from Daisy’s room. The door hasn’t opened once. Did she miss her morning meds too?” The color drained from Mom’s face. She stood up so fast her chair nearly tipped over. “David, we have to go. Now. If she hasn’t taken her pills, she’s in danger.” Ignoring Toby’s protests, they sprinted for the car. When they got home, Mom burst through the front door and slammed open my bedroom. “Daisy Miller! If you’re playing games with your medicine, I swear—” But the room was empty. The bed was perfectly made, the bunny sitting exactly where she’d left it. I wasn’t in the bathroom. I wasn’t in the kitchen. Then, a thunderous pounding came at the front door. “Open up! It’s the police! We found a kid in the attic of the building next door… is she yours?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391651”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The aloof, untouchable guy I had a crush on completely ignored me. Desperate, I prayed to the gods to let me have him eating out of the palm of my hand. The next morning, a string of prayer beads appeared on my nightstand. I thought it was a divine gift, so I immediately grabbed it and started playing with the beads. As a result, my crush ended up going to a men’s health clinic that very day. He said he constantly felt like someone was touching him, and it just wouldn’t go down. 1 I had been chasing Scott for three months. He was still cold and distant. Even when I stood right in front of him, he acted like I didn’t exist. I finally couldn’t take it anymore. Figuring I had nothing to lose, I prayed to the Deer God. “Oh, mighty Deer God, you are the manliest of men, the alpha of alphas, the elite of the elites! You are dashing and majestic! Your martial arts are unparalleled in this world!!! “Please, I’m begging you, use your divine power to make my crush unable to live without me! Make him obsessed with me for the rest of his life, make him submissive to me! Please!!!” After leaving that message, I turned off my phone and went to sleep. I had a vague dream about meeting someone. The next morning, a string of prayer beads appeared on my nightstand. I was absolutely certain I had never bought anything like it. Looking closely, they seemed to glow with a faint golden light. It seemed the Deer God had actually answered my prayers! This must be the magical artifact he gifted his devoted follower! Meant for me to completely control Scott! I couldn’t wait to pick up the prayer beads. I played with them for a long time before wrapping them around my wrist. I gave myself a mental pep talk. With these, I can definitely make Scott submit to me! 2 I was in a great mood today. I decided to drive my pink Cullinan. When I arrived at the lobby of Scott’s company, I walked up to the reception desk carrying a small cake. “Hi, I’m here to see Mr. Scott.” The receptionist and I were already very familiar with each other. She winked at me. “Mr. Scott didn’t come to the office today. I heard he might have gone to the hospital.” The receptionist was very pretty. Scott’s executive assistant had been pursuing her for over half a year. It probably wouldn’t be long before they made it official. I generously pulled a VIP spa card out of my designer bag. “Just mention my name when you go.” She accepted it with a beaming smile. “Thank you, Ms. Quinn!” I turned and walked a few steps. Then I suddenly remembered something and turned back. “Which hospital did he go to?” The receptionist paused. “Um… let me check.” She fiddled with her phone for a moment. Then she looked up with a very strange expression. “The Men’s Health Clinic.” My sunglasses almost fell off my face in shock. “What?!” 3 I drove as fast as I could toward the hospital. I was so anxious my head felt like it was on fire. If it were any other health issue, fine, but why that specific problem?! Scott was so handsome, and his body was incredible. If he was… What a massive waste! While waiting at a red light, I suddenly caught a glimpse of the prayer beads on my wrist. I calmed down a bit. It’s fine, maybe it’s just a minor issue? With a face and body like Scott’s… Even if he was a ‘one-minute man’, I’d still take him! 4 I had already won over his assistant, Kevin, through the receptionist, and he texted me the exact floor number. I arrived, panting heavily. I spotted Scott immediately. His brow was furrowed tightly, his face flushed bright red. He had a suit jacket draped over his lap. He sat in the waiting chair, panting heavily. He looked extremely uncomfortable. Kevin asked with concern: “Boss, are you feeling any better?” Scott’s jaw was clenched tight, but he nodded. “It’s a bit better now, the sensation isn’t as intense. “This morning…” He let out a heavy sigh. My heart skipped a beat. Oh no, maybe it really is something serious! I quickly took off the prayer beads, holding them in my hand to steady my nerves, and walked briskly over. “Are you okay?” Scott jumped when he saw me approach. “W-what are you doing here?” He seemed to realize something and shot a look back at Kevin. I quickly spoke up: “Don’t blame him, I was worried about you and forced him to tell me. “What exactly is wrong?” Scott turned his flushed face away, avoiding my eyes. He gritted his teeth and said with profound embarrassment, “It’s nothing. Just leave.” Here we go again with this attitude. He still didn’t want to talk to me. I looked at Kevin. This time, he didn’t say anything either. Feeling anxious, I started frantically rolling the prayer beads in my hand. Almost simultaneously. Scott let out a muffled groan. His hands gripped the back of the chair in front of him with a death grip. His abdomen trembled as if he were enduring some inhuman torture. I screamed, “Doctor! Someone find a doctor, hurry!” Even though I knew he was probably just unwell… For some inexplicable reason… His current state looked incredibly erotic. It made my heart flutter with a strange itch. I rolled the beads in my hand faster and faster. Scott’s reaction became even more intense. His voice was low and hoarse, completely refusing to look at me: “Leave! Get out of here!” How could I possibly leave? Seeing him like this, I had no idea what was actually wrong. I placed my hand on his shoulder. I bent down, looking directly into his eyes, coaxing him with the utmost tenderness: “Are you in a lot of pain? Don’t worry, the doctor will be here soon. “Don’t be afraid. Even if there really is a problem, I don’t care. “Scott, I like you, the person, not anything else…” Scott bit his lower lip hard, staying silent. The veins on his hands bulged, and he was trembling uncontrollably. But then, he suddenly relaxed and slumped back against the chair. Looking as if his entire world had just collapsed. “Are you… are you not in pain anymore?” I stopped rolling the beads. Terrified that something terrible had happened, I was beside myself with worry. “Scott, say something! What exactly just happened to you?!” Kevin suddenly seemed to realize something. A bizarre flush crept up his face. Then he came over, took my arm, and gently turned me around. “Ms. Quinn, we have to go in for an examination soon. It’s really not appropriate for you to stay here. “The boss hasn’t had breakfast yet. Why don’t you go downstairs and buy him a pastry or something? “I’ll stay here with him.” I looked back at Scott’s current state. I nodded. “Okay, take good care of him. “Kevin, he’s the only man I want to marry. You absolutely cannot let anything happen to him.” “I understand, I understand completely, Ms. Quinn.” Kevin offered an ambiguous smile. “The boss… it shouldn’t be anything major. “Probably just a bit too much stress lately. “We’ll know for sure once he sees the doctor. “Don’t worry, you two will have a very happy life together.” Hearing him say that… I finally felt a little relieved. “I’ll go downstairs and buy breakfast then.” 5 “Boss, Ms. Quinn went downstairs.” Scott leaned back in his chair, looking completely drained of all worldly desires. “Kevin, do you think she could tell?” “No, boss, you… you had your jacket covering it.” “Heh.” Scott let out a cold laugh. “What exactly is wrong with me? “I’m only twenty-four, could I be…” This was a matter of a man’s dignity! Kevin quickly sneaked a glance at Scott’s lap. “I really don’t know what the situation is… “But boss, I think maybe it’s time you got a girlfriend. “You’re always busy with work, and under a lot of mental stress. Without an outlet for release, naturally… naturally, various issues can arise.” Scott stared at him intently. “What about you? You don’t have a girlfriend either, right? “Why aren’t you experiencing these symptoms?” Kevin innocently raised his right hand. “I do have a girlfriend.” Scott’s face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot. Just then, the doctor called his number. He and Kevin went in together. After listening to Scott describe his symptoms. The balding male doctor pushed his glasses up his nose. “This situation… “Take off your pants, let me take a look.” Scott looked a bit embarrassed. “Um, the thing is, I couldn’t control it out there just now…” “Oh.” The doctor nodded nonchalantly. He conducted a thorough examination. “It looks very healthy, no issues at all, everything is perfectly normal. “But the situation is a bit more complicated than I thought. “You said earlier that you constantly feel like someone is touching you, right?” Scott nodded, his expression solemn. “Yes.” Kevin wanted to laugh, but didn’t dare. He turned around to study the ceiling. The doctor rested his chin on his hand and delivered his diagnosis. “Perhaps this is a psychological issue? “Why don’t you try seeing a psychiatrist?” 6 I came back upstairs with the breakfast. Scott and Kevin hadn’t come out yet. I sat in the waiting chair outside for a long time. Finally, they emerged from the consultation room. I walked up to them, holding out the pastry. “Scott, I got you some breakfast.” He usually never even looked me in the eye. But today, he took the pastry as if all the fight had drained out of him. “Thank you.” Something wasn’t right. I looked at Kevin. I mouthed the words: “What happened?” Kevin shook his head and said nothing. “Scott, what exactly is wrong with you? Say something!” I was so anxious I was ready to jump out of my skin. Even if he really couldn’t “perform” anymore, I needed to know! Scott turned his back to me. His tone was no longer as composed as usual. “Chloe, please stop liking me. “You won’t be happy with me.” This rejection was different from before! I sensed that something was very wrong. Looking at his devastated expression, was he really… impotent? I was burning with anxiety. I quickly took out the prayer beads and started rolling them again. The tall figure in front of me suddenly dropped to one knee, clutching his lower abdomen. Kevin was so shocked he almost screamed. “Boss!” I tried to follow to see what was happening. Scott reached an arm out behind him. “Don’t come any closer!” He gasped heavily: “I… my stomach hurts, I need to go to the restroom. “Kevin, help me get over there, hurry!” “Right away, boss! I’ve got you.” Kevin acted like a worried mother hen. He supported Scott, who could barely walk steadily, toward the restroom. I gritted my teeth and resolutely turned around, marching right back into the consultation room they had just left.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391669”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

During the year we were madly in love, Julian died in a tragic car accident. Everyone expected me to fall apart, but I didn’t shed a single tear, nor did I cause a scene. Two years later, I accidentally walked into the wrong private room at a club. Julian was sitting there, passionately making out with a young girl. His friends scrambled to explain things to me: “The car crash was really bad, Mia. Julian was in a coma, practically a vegetable. He only just woke up, but he has amnesia… We didn’t want you to live in constant anxiety, so we kept it a secret.” Julian gently pushed the girl away, walked up to me, and furrowed his brow. “So, I hear you’re my fiancée? Even though I have no memory of you, seeing as you’ve been so devoted to me all this time, I suppose I can fulfill the promise and marry you.” I smiled faintly and replied, “They’re messing with you. We don’t know each other.” Julian didn’t know that on the very day he “died,” I received a video. In the video, Julian was laughing and telling his friends: “The thought of only sleeping with Mia for the rest of my life after we get married? I just can’t do it. “I’m going to fake my death and play the field for a few more years. Make sure you guys comfort her, don’t let her do anything drastic.” He also didn’t know that during the two years he was playing dead… I had found someone else. 1 The friends in the room froze for a second before frantically trying to persuade me: “Mia, how can you say you don’t know him? We were the ones who kept it from you, it wasn’t Julian’s fault!” “Yeah, Mia, we did it for your own good. We didn’t want you worrying yourself sick. Now that Julian is finally awake, please, don’t throw a tantrum.” The room was filled with accusatory tones. Before I could respond, a mocking scoff cut through the noise. Julian stood up from the sofa, a cigarette pinched casually between his fingers. He spoke with a lazy, arrogant drawl: “If she says we don’t know each other, then fine. Saves me the trouble of taking responsibility.” The girl standing next to him immediately clung to his arm, looking up at him with a mix of shyness and nervous excitement: “Julian… I know you! If she’s going to be so ungrateful… I-I’ll gladly marry you, okay?” Julian didn’t answer her. He just cast a cold, indifferent glance in my direction, then wrapped his arm around the girl’s waist and leaned in to kiss her. Seeing this, his friends immediately formed a human wall, blocking my view. They tried to comfort me: “Mia, Julian has amnesia. You know he loved you more than anything before the accident.” “Yeah, Mia. You just need to show him some love and care so he can get his memory back. Stop acting like a spoiled brat.” I opened my mouth, ready to tell these ‘friends’ exactly where they could shove their advice, but a sudden, sharp pain shot through my abdomen. My face instantly drained of color. I didn’t stay a second longer. I turned around and walked straight out of the room. I left so quickly that no one inside even had time to react. Only after I was completely gone did they turn to Julian, sighing heavily: “Julian, you took it too far. Mia is genuinely hurt and jealous. Her face went completely white. What if she really dumps you over this?” Julian smirked, sitting back down on the plush sofa. “Mia is easy to manage. We haven’t seen each other in two years; there’s no way she doesn’t miss me. “Besides, I supposedly have amnesia right now. Once I’m done having my fun, I’ll just tell her my memory came back and that my actions weren’t my own. I won’t even need to apologize. I’ll just crook my finger, and she’ll come running right back.” 2 Once I was out of the room, I couldn’t hold on anymore. I crouched down on the floor. The waves of agonizing pain radiating from my stomach drained every ounce of strength I had, making it impossible to even reach the restroom. Until a shadow fell over me. A familiar, deep voice echoed above: “What’s wrong? Heartbroken? Hoping to rekindle an old flame?” I looked up. A short distance away, Arthur Sterling was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with a cool, detached gaze. He was dressed entirely in black. He had a sharp, straight nose, and his eyes were hidden in the dim lighting, making it impossible to read his expression. Under the faint light, the lines of his thin lips were sharp and elegant. In that split second, a profound sense of unjust grievance swelled in my chest. To my complete embarrassment, tears actually started falling from my eyes. Arthur panicked instantly. He dropped his arms and practically sprinted over to me. “Don’t cry. I won’t say it again. I promise.” He was in incredibly good shape, strong and solid. With one arm, he effortlessly scooped me up from the floor. The crisp scent of cedarwood filled my nose, subtly tugging at my heartstrings. I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered: “My stomach hurts…” Arthur paused for a fraction of a second. “Is it early?” I nodded. My lips accidentally brushed against his jawline as I rested my head against his broad shoulder. Arthur carried me to his car, turned the heat on high, and said: “Wait here. I’m going to buy you some supplies.” With that, he shut the door and walked away. The dim yellow streetlights cast a warm glow over his tall, retreating silhouette. Not long after, a video call popped up on my phone. It was Arthur. “They’re out of the brand you usually use. Do any of these look okay?” I was just about to pick one when a familiar, obnoxiously surprised voice echoed through his phone. Julian, with his arm wrapped tightly around his new girl’s waist, swaggered into the convenience store. He looked Arthur up and down, exclaiming: “We invited you out for drinks tonight and you bailed! Turns out you’re busy buying tampons for a girl! “Are you on a video call with her?! Let me see! Who on earth finally managed to melt our resident iceberg?!” Julian reached out, trying to snatch Arthur’s phone. I instinctively jerked my face away from the camera. But Julian never laid a finger on the phone. Arthur simply shot him a single, freezing glare, and Julian immediately pulled his hand back. “Alright, alright! If you’re going to be that protective of your new girl, at least bring her out to meet us sometime! “Oh, by the way, Arthur, I ran into Mia earlier. She walked into the wrong room and caught me kissing someone else. Scared the hell out of me! Luckily, the guys covered for me and told her I have amnesia. Once I’ve had my fun, I’ll ‘recover’ my memory. “Honestly, bro, you totally saved my life. I wasn’t ready to settle down, and that fake death idea you gave me worked like a charm!” The video feed jolted violently, and the next second, the call was abruptly disconnected. 3 Arthur returned ten minutes later. He didn’t make eye contact. He just handed me the bag of supplies, quickly got into the driver’s seat, and locked the doors. “I had someone prepare hot ginger and jujube tea at my place. Do you… want to go back and drink it?” His voice carried a hint of nervous hesitation. I couldn’t help but find it slightly amusing. Arthur Sterling was a notoriously wealthy and powerful heir in the capital’s elite circles. He was also Julian’s absolute best friend. In the past, whenever I joined Julian for dinners or events, Arthur was always there. Back then, he was incredibly cold and distant toward me. Whenever the group teased Julian and me, demanding we show some PDA, Arthur wouldn’t even glance in our direction. Sometimes, he even looked openly disdainful or disgusted. Because of that, everyone in their social circle assumed he absolutely hated me. Until… on the exact day of Julian’s ‘fatal’ car crash, I received a video. A video sent directly to me by Arthur. In the video, Julian was laughing and telling his friends: “The thought of only sleeping with Mia for the rest of my life after we get married? I just can’t do it. “I’m going to fake my death and play the field for a few more years. Make sure you guys comfort her, don’t let her do anything drastic.” What I didn’t know until tonight was that the entire ‘fake death’ scheme was actually Arthur’s idea. This man was incredibly calculating. 4 When we arrived at Arthur’s villa, before my feet even touched the pavement, he scooped me up into his arms. After I took care of things in the bathroom, Arthur laid me gently on the bed and handed me his phone to play games on. Once I finished the hot ginger tea, he naturally stripped off his shirt, lay down beside me, and began gently massaging my lower stomach. The overhead lighting cascaded down like a sheer veil, highlighting the sculpted lines of his abs. Every muscle seemed to tell a hidden story, practically begging to be explored. I thought about it, so I did it. Arthur’s eyes instantly darkened, and he caught my wandering hand. “Behave.” I ignored him. He cupped the back of my head and crushed his lips against mine. Two years was more than enough time for him to learn exactly how my body worked. When things reached a fever pitch, he gripped my hand. His voice was a ragged, hoarse whisper: “Help me—” I had discovered Arthur’s terrifying stamina the very first time I got drunk and slept with him. It wasn’t until my wrist was aching so badly it felt like it was going to fall off that he finally finished. Just as he was about to carry me to the bathroom to clean up, a phone rang from the edge of the bed. It was Arthur’s phone. I had accidentally rolled over and hit the ‘Answer’ button. “Arthur, I’m thinking of throwing a massive engagement party with Chloe, just to piss Mia off. What do you think? “When she saw I was alive, she didn’t even ask how I was doing! She just got jealous and stormed off, and she hasn’t even tried to contact me! “Clearly, two years apart gave her an ego. I need to break her down a bit. I want her to experience the agony of losing me all over again. I’m going to plan something epic, and I need you to…” Julian’s voice blared through the speaker. But he was abruptly cut off. Because I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a sharp gasp. Not because of Julian’s psychotic rambling, but because something else had suddenly woken back up. And it twitched aggressively in my hand. 5 I shot Arthur a furious, embarrassed glare. Julian’s voice continued through the phone, sounding incredibly amused: “Wow, Arthur! What the hell are you doing right now? Is there a woman with you?! Tell me, is it the same girl you were video chatting with earlier?!” After two years apart, and the fact that I only made a brief, muffled sound… Plus, Julian had been surrounded by countless women over the past two years, so he didn’t immediately recognize my voice. Arthur clearly had absolutely no intention of engaging with Julian. His dark, intense eyes were locked entirely on me, overflowing with desire. I glared at him again, wrenched myself out of his arms, and tried to scramble to the other side of the bed. But before I could even make it one step, Arthur grabbed my ankle and dragged me right back. Julian kept talking: “Bro, you HAVE to bring her out and introduce her! I need to see the saint who finally got the iron tree to bloom! And hey, now that you’re finally playing the game, you can’t turn down the girls I introduce you to anymore! “Oh, right, the engagement party. Originally I wanted you to invite Mia so she’d have to watch, but since I know you hate her…” Before Julian could finish, Arthur impatiently hung up the phone. He tossed the phone onto the mattress, scooped me up with one arm, and carried me to the bathroom. When we finally emerged, three hours had passed. Arthur looked incredibly satisfied. I shot him a death glare and collapsed onto the bed, refusing to acknowledge him. I picked up my own phone and saw a new text message. It was from one of Julian’s lackeys. Two years ago, Julian had integrated me into all of his social circles. [Mia, Julian is getting engaged to someone else in seven days! You need to come talk some sense into him! I don’t want him to regret this when he gets his memory back! This isn’t what he truly wants!] I read the message once, deleted it, and tossed my phone aside. I am not the kind of person who goes looking for drama when I have nothing better to do. What did Julian’s engagement have to do with me? Arthur reached out, trying to pull me back into his arms. I glared at him and swiftly shimmied to the far edge of the bed. I absolutely refused to endure another three or four-hour marathon! 6 The news that Julian wasn’t actually dead, and was about to get engaged, spread like wildfire. A ton of my friends reached out. Some offered sympathy, some aggressively cursed Julian out for being a scumbag, and some clearly just wanted front-row seats to the drama. My college roommate, Lily, called me, absolutely screaming about Julian. “When I heard Julian was alive, I was so incredibly happy for you! But then I hear he’s getting engaged to someone else?! That is completely fucked up! So what if he has amnesia, does that give him the right to betray you?! You’re his actual fiancée! Has no one told him that?! “Absolutely not. I am not letting my best friend get humiliated like this! I’m going to find out exactly where this engagement party is, and we are going to crash it and get justice!” I laughed. “People get divorced all the time; engagements can be broken too. My relationship with him died two years ago. Whatever he does now has absolutely nothing to do with me.” Lily remained fiercely indignant. “I just can’t stomach this… You waited for him for two years! I watched you stay single this entire time!” I choked slightly on the cookie I was eating. Who was waiting for him? It’s just that Arthur and I hadn’t made our relationship public yet. Lily spent another ten minutes trying to convince me to go confront Julian with her. When I firmly refused again, she sighed heavily. “Fine, fine. Do you want to go out tonight, then? We haven’t hung out in forever. Drinks are on me tonight!” Having nothing better to do, I agreed. Lily picked the location. She arrived before me. Looking at the massive, luxury hotel in front of me, I felt a wave of confusion. “Didn’t you say we were going to a bar? Why are we at a hotel?” Lily’s eyes darted around guiltily as she grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. “Bars are so unsafe at night! What if we get drunk and something bad happens? A high-end hotel is much safer! Plus, we can get some amazing food. It’ll be great!” She dragged me straight into the building. The moment the doors to the grand ballroom swung open, my expression turned to ice.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391688”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My roommate was a prankster. One summer, while rock climbing together, he secretly untied my safety rope to amuse my girlfriend. My girlfriend laughed heartily at the sight of me dangling in mid-air. Immediately after, I fell from a great height and fractured my spine. Seeing me speechless from the pain, my roommate sneered, “It was just a joke. I didn’t realize his physical fitness was so poor. What an embarrassment to us sports students.” After my injury, my lower body was paralyzed, my future was ruined, and I suffered from depression. I wanted to pursue criminal charges against my roommate, but my girlfriend stopped me, “You’re already paralyzed. Do you really want Noah to not graduate?” The day they publicly announced their relationship, I maneuvered my wheelchair and, in despair, jumped from the rooftop. When I reopened my eyes, I was back on the day of the rock climbing incident. 1 “Jacob, you’re so grounded, you don’t suit such stylish climbing shoes. Can I try them on?” My roommate, Noah,’s voice echoed in my ears, startling me into a cold sweat. I quickly checked my hands and feet—they moved freely; I wasn’t paralyzed. Had I been reborn? In my previous life, after suffering academic setbacks and romantic betrayal, I chose an extreme way to end my life. But unexpectedly, I was reborn, back to the day of the rock climbing trip that summer. Seeing me in a daze, Noah sounded a little impatient. “Jacob, what are you staring at? You’re not pretending to be deaf because you don’t want to lend me these shoes, are you?” My thoughts were pulled back. I nodded. “Of course.” I added, “Try them on, go ahead.” I had asked a friend abroad to buy these climbing shoes; they weren’t cheap, and I hadn’t even worn them once myself. Noah’s spirits immediately lifted. He grabbed the shoes and started putting them on. “These shoes aren’t cheap, right? Too bad you’re so unfashionable. Even the most expensive shoes look like bargain bin items on you.” He continued, “My style suits their price better.” Noah strutted in front of the mirror, posing with the shoes, making my stomach churn. If not for legal restraints, I would have long ago kicked him off the balcony. But I knew I couldn’t. And besides, if Clara found out, she wouldn’t let me get away with it. In my previous life, it was she who prevented me from pursuing criminal charges against Noah. She said Noah was her best friend and just liked to joke around. But if Noah had been the one injured, I suspect Clara would have still sided with Noah without hesitation. Regardless, I had to find a way to prevent myself from being harmed again in this life. Clara and I were top students at the Metropolis Sports Academy. After a training session, the coach approached me, wanting me to participate in the school’s special selection competition for the national team. Joining the national team was every sports student’s dream. But there was only one spot, and my performance was more consistent. So, I followed his advice and signed up for the competition. But unexpectedly, Clara’s mother unilaterally canceled my registration. “Jacob, if you’re serious about Clara, you need to plan for the future. What about the national team? Even if you join, what then? Can it buy you a car or a house? Don’t get me wrong, but how many young couples have fallen apart because of reality?” She pressed, “Besides, national team training is too demanding. If you neglect Clara, aren’t you afraid she’ll be snatched away by someone else? Love without money is just a pile of sand. I hope you can be down-to-earth and not waste your time on these things.” After hearing these words, I was a little confused. “But, Mrs. Thorne, if I join the national team, I’ll have the chance to bring glory to our country in the future. That’s also my dream.” I questioned, “Do I have to give up my dream to be with Clara? Besides, I don’t think a marriage where one party is sacrificed for the other can last.” But before I could finish, she interrupted me. “Oh, why won’t you listen, child? I’m doing this for your own good.” She continued, “Look at Noah, he’s about your age and already preparing to take over his family’s company. I don’t expect you to achieve anything grand, but at least don’t let my Clara feel embarrassed in public, alright?” In my previous life, even though I was unwilling, for Clara’s sake, I still gave up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And the one who ultimately joined the national team was Clara. Three years later, with her beautiful looks, she became a well-known female athlete in the sports world. It wasn’t until she won an international competition and excitedly embraced Noah that I discovered I had only paved the way for someone else. If not for that accident, if I hadn’t given up the national team selection, would everything have been different? Taking back what they stole seemed more impactful than mere revenge. This time, I wanted to see what kind of trouble these two would stir up without me, the naive fool. 2 While I was lost in thought, Noah had already skillfully put on my climbing shoes. He also casually slipped into my new windbreaker. Anyone who didn’t know would think these were his. Just then, Noah took a call, then turned to urge me, “Jacob, are you ready? Clara’s rushing us to come down.” I looked at his outfit, a bit displeased. “You’ve taken my new climbing shoes and windbreaker. What am I supposed to wear?” A hint of sarcasm flashed in Noah’s eyes. “Just wear the old ones you have on.” He added, “Besides, new shoes have a break-in period. I’m doing this for your own good. I’ll give them back to you once I’ve broken them in.” With that, Noah pulled me out. Downstairs, Clara embraced me, her face a shy flush. She mysteriously pulled open a corner of her backpack, whispering, “Jacob, today’s our third anniversary, and I’ve prepared a surprise for you~” I looked down, instantly blushing to my ears, as it was a black lace, sexy nightgown. In the years Clara and I had been together, she had always been rather aloof. The me of the previous life, immersed in the surprise of Clara’s change in attitude towards me, didn’t even notice that Noah, standing nearby, had already turned grim. It turned out that in the previous life, the reason he played that prank during the climb was entirely out of jealousy. He called it a joke, but in reality, it was deliberate. Clara saw me stunned and silent, and chided, “Jacob, why are you spacing out?” On this day in my previous life, I was truly happy, my mind filled with anticipation for the climbing to end quickly. Later, when we were almost at the top of the rock, Clara, probably tired, frowned and seemed unhappy. Noah, trying to cheer Clara up, actually secretly untied my safety rope. My foot slipped, and I fell. Because only a thin rope at the top was protecting me, I swung a few times in the air like a kite. I instantly broke into a cold sweat, but unexpectedly, Clara actually laughed heartily at my appearance. Immediately after, I heard the sound of the rope breaking, and I plummeted directly from mid-air. My waist, unfortunately, hit a protruding rock on the ground. The intense pain almost made me faint. Several classmates who were climbing with us rushed over to check my injuries. But Noah stood nearby, arms crossed, with a sneer. “I was just joking. I didn’t expect Jacob, a sports student, to have such poor physical fitness.” He added, “However, seeing Clara smile made it worth it.” He continued, “It’s common to get bumps and scrapes during school training. He should be fine, right?” The student organizing the climb’s face darkened, and he quickly called for an ambulance, taking me to the hospital. Seeing the doctor’s tightly furrowed brows, my heart instantly sank. The doctor said my spine was fractured, and it might be difficult for me to stand again in the future. Noah, upon learning this, was incredibly shocked. He feigned an apology, threatening to jump from the fifth floor to atone for my injury. Clara quickly pulled him back, gently comforting him and saying it was just an accident. But had she forgotten that I was the one who needed comfort after being injured? After the surgery, Clara’s mother also rushed over. Upon hearing about my injuries, her eyes immediately reddened. “Jacob, you’ve truly suffered.” She chastised, “Noah is truly something; he’s always loved pranks, with no sense of proportion. Quickly apologize to Jacob.” I endured the pain, saying coldly, “No need for an apology. Let the police handle this. Whether intentional or accidental, I hope the police can give me justice.” Unexpectedly, as soon as I finished speaking, Clara was displeased. “Jacob, Noah and I grew up together. I know his joke went a bit too far this time, but it’s not enough to send him to the police station, is it? When we get married later, we’ll be seeing each other often; how awkward would that be?” She continued, “I know you’re sad, but the doctor said that with diligent rehabilitation, there’s still a chance of recovery. You can take this opportunity to rest well. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” At this moment, Clara’s mother also interjected, “Noah’s uncle is a major client of our company. If you fall out with the King family over such a small matter, where would our family’s reputation stand afterward?” She pressed, “If you call the police, you’re slapping my face. I absolutely won’t allow such a thing to happen!” I tried to say something more, but Clara cut me off again. “Jacob, your spine is already broken anyway. Why bother ruining my family’s cooperation with the King family over this?” She continued, “Noah truly didn’t mean it. He’s like my younger brother, just a bit mischievous. I hope you can treat him like a younger brother too.” She added, “Besides, we’re all classmates, and Noah is younger than you. Can’t you forgive him this once?” After Clara spoke, I was so angry I couldn’t speak. I was only a month older than Noah; why should I bear the consequences of his prank? Yet in my previous life, I was so utterly foolish that I followed Clara’s advice. Later, when Clara accompanied me for rehabilitation, she became increasingly perfunctory. I also developed depression from sitting in a wheelchair for so long. It wasn’t until Valentine’s Day that Clara didn’t come home all night. In the early morning, I scrolled through Noah’s social media post. It was a photo of him and Clara kissing. Clara’s ring finger still bore a sparkling diamond ring. The caption: Finally upgraded from boyfriend to husband. Please guide me for the rest of our lives. After seeing it, I maneuvered my wheelchair and leaped from the rooftop. This life, no matter what, I would not let such a tragedy befall me again.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391707”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

For five years, I was deep undercover within an enemy intelligence network. When my cover was blown, I did the unthinkable to survive: I betrayed the man I loved, Arthur Vance. He managed to escape the ensuing ambush by the skin of his teeth, dragging a mangled, ruined leg behind him. When he was awarded the Medal of Honor, Arthur hobbled up to the podium on crutches. The commander asked him if he had any final requests the agency could fulfill for him. His eyes were as cold as a frozen lake. His thin, hard lips parted to say: “Bring Chloe back.” “And execute her.” Consequently, the agency raided the entire enemy compound but found no trace of me. All they found was a single VHS tape, left specifically for Arthur. 1. When Arthur received the tape, he scoffed with pure disgust. “This is just evidence of her crimes.” “She will be nailed to the pillar of shame in history.” His eyes were dark and cold, the cynical twist of his lips oozing profound mockery. His aide, pushing Arthur’s wheelchair through the park, spoke up cautiously. “General, aren’t you going to see what’s on it?” After receiving his Medal of Honor, Arthur had been promoted to General. His crippled leg had become a lifelong badge of honor. He let out another cold laugh. “Watch what?” “Watch how she sold out her country? How she wagged her tail and begged the enemy for mercy?” “I’m afraid it would dirty my eyes.” The aide choked on his words for a moment, remaining silent for a few seconds before bracing himself to speak again. “But… the envelope the tape was in specifically had your name on it.” “For Arthur Vance’s Eyes Only.” “This tape was meant for you.” Arthur paused. His narrow eyes squinted, a sharp, calculating light flashing across them. The enemy network hadn’t been completely eradicated; remnants were still out there. Perhaps there were clues hidden within the tape? “Hmph. Fine. I’ll see what kind of tricks they’re trying to pull.” “The main thing is, we still haven’t found Chloe.” “A despicable traitor like her… public outrage won’t be quelled until she’s dead.” He had to find Chloe, and then watch with his own eyes as she faced the ultimate punishment. 2. December 15, 1986, 3:10 PM. Chloe was stripped completely bare, shivering violently, her body covered in a horrifying mosaic of purple and blue bruises from the cold. A masked man in black stood nearby holding a bucket of freezing water. With a loud splash, he threw the water over Chloe’s shivering body. She jerked violently, her hanging hair freezing into icicles almost instantly. “Kill… just kill me!” She gritted her teeth, her lips purple as she growled weakly. But the masked man acted as if he hadn’t heard her, throwing bucket after bucket of freezing water over her. Until Chloe completely lost consciousness. Only then did a chilling, sinister voice ring out. “Drag her back. Don’t let her freeze to death.” A group of men then untied Chloe from the wooden post and dragged her away. The screen went black for a brief moment. Sitting in front of the screen, Arthur’s eyes were colder than the frost outside the window. “A sympathy play?” “Heh. This is just another one of their schemes.” “A traitor deserves every ounce of torture she gets.” Standing beside him, the aide pressed his lips together, his voice low. “General, should I keep playing it?” Arthur leaned back against the soft sofa, saying casually: “Play it.” “I want to see how long she can keep this act up.” 3. December 16, 1986, 3:10 PM. This time, the recording was in a dark, windowless room. Chloe was still completely exposed, her body now covered in overlapping whip marks. Her delicate, pale face had been ruined. The skin was split open, and blood continuously oozed from the deep gashes. “Are you going to talk?” It was that same sinister voice coming from off-camera. Chloe smirked, her eyes resolute, almost fearless. “Arthur has already wiped out your entire network.” “You guys are just grasshoppers at the end of autumn—you can’t jump anymore.” After saying that, she bared her teeth, letting out a series of wild, trembling laughs. “Keep hitting her.” As soon as the vicious command dropped, the whip struck Chloe’s body mercilessly again. She shuddered violently, biting down on her teeth so hard they looked like they might shatter. “We have already won!” “You… you all just… wait to die…” She refused to submit, even in the face of death, her beautiful almond eyes flashing with a sharp, ruthless light. Outside the screen, the aide was holding his breath, a look of deep pity crossing his face. “General, could Chloe have been framed…” He frowned as he spoke, his eyes no longer daring to look at Chloe’s slowly splitting flesh. Arthur shifted his gaze, giving the aide a look of pure disdain. “Just from this?” “You lack experience. You’re too naive.” “They’re trying to use my past relationship with Chloe to threaten me.” “Why would I ever feel sorry for a traitor?” 4. December 17, 1986, 3:10 PM. Chloe’s teeth were gone. Her soft pink lips parted to reveal nothing but bloody, raw gums. “Are you going to talk?” Still the same cold voice, not a trace of change from yesterday. Like a repetitive machine. Chloe’s head hung low. Blood mixed with saliva slowly dripped from her mouth. “I will never betray my country.” Her eyes were stubborn. Even without teeth, her pronunciation was incredibly clear. “Do you regret letting Arthur go?” That voice finally showed a hint of emotion. Chloe froze. The cold, hard look in her eyes finally softened into something warmer. “No. I don’t… regret it.” “He definitely hates me now. That’s okay. As long as he’s alive.” With that, she closed her eyes, two streams of clear tears rolling down her cheeks, washing away some of the blood on her face. The screen went dark again. The aide’s face was looking pale. “General, there must be more to this story.” Arthur frowned, but his sharp, falcon-like eyes remained utterly unfeeling. “She was undercover for five years before being discovered, after all.” “They wouldn’t just let her go.” “A fence-sitter like her… neither side would let her off easily.” As he spoke, a flash of contempt crossed his eyes. He leaned back against the sofa again, watching the tape. 5. December 18, 1986, 3:10 PM. Chloe was missing a hand. Blood was everywhere. Her face was as pale as a sheet of paper. “General!” The aide finally couldn’t hold back a gasp of horror. “They chopped off her hand!” His eyes turned red, and even his voice was trembling. As Arthur’s aide, he naturally knew the story of Arthur and Chloe. They grew up together, childhood sweethearts who were supposed to get married. Then, she received an urgent mission to go undercover, and vanished for five whole years. To everyone in their unit, Arthur and Chloe were the quintessential heroic, patriotic couple. He didn’t believe Arthur had absolutely no feelings left for her! On the sofa, Arthur’s hand resting on his knee tightened slightly. His knuckles turned white. A faint redness crept into the eyes staring at the screen. After a long while, he stretched his rigid body and let out a heavy breath. “It’s too fake.” “Where did they find this actress?” “Someone as terrified of dying as Chloe would have definitely given up all the agency’s secrets. Why would they chop off her hand?” “Ridiculous.” Despite his words, his gaze involuntarily drifted back to Chloe’s severed hand. The empty forearm ended abruptly. The blindingly red blood soaked through the gauze, dripping onto the floor, pooling into a mirror-like puddle. He frowned unconsciously, a dull ache throbbing somewhere deep in his chest. But quickly, the memory of her betraying him flashed in his mind, and that sliver of softness completely vanished. He exhaled, his eyes clearly conveying his thoughts: “Chloe, if you knew this was how it would end, why did you do it in the first place?” 6. December 19, 1986, 3:10 PM. Arthur finally believed that this tape was the enemy’s revenge against him. In the video, a naked man wearing a black hood climbed off Chloe. Then, another one climbed on. And it was still that same question: “Are you going to talk?” Chloe screamed in agony, biting down hard on the man’s ear. But without teeth, it caused him no pain. “Animals!” “I’m going to kill you all!” With a mouth full of blood, her screams cracked and broke. The hatred exploding in her eyes was like a raging fire, ready to burn the entire world to ash. Sitting on the sofa, Arthur violently tried to stand up, but his body tipped over, and he crashed onto the floor. “General!” The aide rushed over to help him. Arthur was shaking all over, his face even paler than Chloe’s. “It has to be fake! It’s fake!” “Chloe already surrendered! How could they still treat her like this?!” He gripped the aide’s sleeve tightly, tears pouring down his face. It felt like someone had violently seized his heart, suffocating him. He could only gasp desperately for air. The tape hadn’t stopped. Chloe’s screams continued. “Arthur! Save me!” “Save me!” “Arthur… waaah…” Her helpless cries were like a knife, slicing his heart apart piece by piece. He crawled all the way to the screen, his hands tightly shielding Chloe’s body, sobbing uncontrollably. “Chloe, where are you?! Where are you?!” “I forgive you! I forgive you! I’m coming to save you!” “Wait for me…” He pounded fiercely on the screen, hating himself for not being able to reach through it. No matter how much he screamed, those animals wouldn’t stop. Not until they had tortured Chloe half to death did they finally relent. And by then, Arthur had completely passed out in front of the screen. 7. When he woke up again, Arthur couldn’t bring himself to hate Chloe anymore. He would rather be betrayed by her a hundred times over if it meant she was alive and well. “Where is the tape?” He lay in the hospital bed, his voice hoarse as he spoke. The aide looked at him with heartbreaking pity, trying to dissuade him. “General, don’t watch it anymore.” “I think… Chloe must have perished.” “Today is already December 30th.” It had been over ten days. Chloe’s chances of survival were practically zero. Arthur’s chest clenched in pain, his eyes turning red. He tried desperately to hold back his tears, but they broke through anyway. “Show it to me.” He commanded, masochistically. “General…” The aide tried to protest again, but Arthur cut him off fiercely. “Show it to me!” “Chloe is definitely still alive!” His eyes were wide, filled with a stubborn, desperate obsession. The aide sighed and finally continued playing the tape for Arthur. 8. December 20, 1986, 3:10 PM. Covered in wounds, the light in Chloe’s eyes was completely gone. She was like a lifeless slab of meat, tied to the wooden post, entirely at their mercy. “Are you going to talk?” That voice sounded again. Chloe didn’t speak. Her shriveled, bloodstained lips moved, but in the end, no sound came out. “Suffering all this just so you don’t implicate Arthur… is it worth it?” “He escaped. He’s going to get promoted, get rich, and live a life of luxury.” “And you?” This was the classic interrogation tactic—using the soft approach when the hard approach failed. Arthur’s grip on the bedsheets tightened, his breathing stalling. In the video, Chloe’s eyes stared blankly at the ground, but the corners of her mouth twitched up into a relaxed smile. “If my cover was blown, how could Arthur possibly survive?” “It’s better that I play the villain, sever his attachments, and win him a sliver of a chance to live…” After saying that, she closed her eyes, tears mixing with blood as they rolled down her face. Lying in the bed, Arthur wept a river of tears. He raised his hand and slapped himself viciously across the face. “Arthur Vance! You bastard!” “Why were you so stupid?!” “Why didn’t you take Chloe with you?!” “The one who should be tortured is you! IT’S YOU!” Arthur sobbed until he passed out again. 9. In his dreams, Arthur returned to the time before they went undercover. On the training grounds of the military base, he was sweating profusely under the blazing sun. Under the large tree bordering the field, Chloe, her hair in two thick, shiny black braids, was fanning herself while holding a piece of watermelon, waiting for him. Whenever this happened, his comrades would always tease him. “Arthur, hurry up and get over there! Don’t make your little wife wait too long.” “Yeah, the sun is so hot, what if she gets a sunburn?” “You’d be heartbroken.” They threw comments back and forth, and Arthur felt an incredible sweetness in his heart. He could always catch the hints of envy in his comrades’ words. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and grinned at them. “Stop joking around. When you guys settle down, you’ll have someone to care for you too!” His words brought a wave of laughter. “Look at him, he’s already treating her like his wife.” “Everyone on the base knows Arthur is going to marry Chloe eventually. It’s just a matter of time…” As they ran off, Arthur quickly sprinted toward Chloe. “Were you waiting long?” “You silly girl, it’s so hot. Why did you come out here?” Arthur wiped the sweat from Chloe’s forehead with an aching heart, then snatched the fan from her hand to fan her himself. Chloe’s eyes curved into a gentle smile, handing the watermelon to Arthur. “Arthur, you must be thirsty, right? Hurry and eat this, I just took it out of the fridge.” “It’s still cold.” She offered the watermelon to Arthur like it was the most precious treasure in the world. Arthur took it, snapped it cleanly in half, and handed one half back to Chloe. “Let’s eat it together.” Chloe took her half. They shared a smile, and before even taking a bite, the sweetness had already reached their hearts. That day, under the shade of the tree by the training field, they ate watermelon, laughed, and played, happy as if they had fallen into a jar of honey. But happy days are always fleeting. And dreams, eventually, must end. In his sleep, tears unconsciously fell from Arthur’s eyes. Oh, how he wished he could live in this dream forever, and never, ever wake up.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391725”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

While helping my boyfriend transfer some files… I accidentally stumbled upon a hidden photo album. I casually clicked it open. The screen was instantly flooded with photos of a couple, catching me completely off guard. It turned out, my boyfriend had a new girlfriend. Right at that exact moment, I received a text from my best friend. [Mia, I have a huge secret to tell you!] [Liam is planning to propose to you! On your birthday!] 1 When Liam asked me to help him transfer some files… I accidentally clicked on his D drive instead of his external hard drive. Just as I was about to exit, a very unique folder caught my eye in the bottom corner. It was titled [With You]. Curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked it open. A screen completely full of couple photos instantly filled my vision. In that moment, I felt like the punchline to a massive, humiliating joke. 2 In the photos, Liam had his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as they took mirror selfies. There was also a shot of him playfully tugging on the bunny ear headband she was wearing, while she looked down shyly. It was an intimate, flirtatious dynamic that clearly belonged to them. It was actually hilarious. When he was with me, he was always gentle, polite, and restrained. But in these photos, he was clearly dominant and aggressively affectionate. My eyes were drawn, entirely against my will, to the bracelet on her wrist. What a coincidence. I have the exact same one. It was the gift Liam gave me for my birthday last year. He told me he had our names custom-engraved on it, and that it was the only one of its kind in the entire world. Looking at it now, it was an absolute joke. It turns out, they’ve been together for much longer than a year. A sharp, agonizing pain seized my heart. An indescribable agony spread from my chest through my entire body. I slowly closed my eyes, feeling like every ounce of strength had been instantly drained from me. When I opened them again, my vision was completely blurred with tears. Fighting back the violent wave of nausea rolling in my stomach… I pulled out my phone, took photos of the screen, and saved them. 3 Right at that exact moment, a message notification popped up. It was from my best friend, Chloe. [Mia, I have a huge secret to tell you!] [Liam is planning to propose to you! On your birthday!] [He’s already booked the venue and everything, and he made us swear to keep it a secret from you! It’s so romantic!] Seeing I hadn’t replied, she sent another: [Hello? You there?] [Babe, are you super surprised?! Isn’t this amazing?!] I replied: [No. It’s actually disgusting.] She asked, completely confused: [Wait, what?! What happened?!] [Liam is cheating on me.] … The very next second, Chloe was calling me. The moment I answered, she hissed through gritted teeth, “Liam is absolute trash!!!” 4 After forcing my emotions back into a locked box, I grabbed the USB drive and walked out the door. My car was in the shop for maintenance, so I took a cab to Liam’s office. When I handed him the drive, I had to put on a flawless performance and act like absolutely nothing was wrong. It was incredibly uncomfortable. Just as I turned to leave, Liam suddenly grabbed my hand, looked at me with absolute tenderness, and said, “Wifey, I’m so lucky to have you.” Right on cue, one of his coworkers walked by. He laughed and teased, “Whoa, getting a little too sweet in here for the office, aren’t we?” I subtly pulled my hand out of his grasp and forced a tight, artificial smile. “I’m meeting Chloe to go shopping. I have to run.” He nodded slightly, reached out to ruffle my hair, and smiled. “Have fun.” 5 At the coffee shop. After Chloe finished listening to my entire story… She looked like she wanted to literally tear him to shreds. “Liam is a sociopathic piece of trash.” She aggressively stabbed her cake with her fork, using it as an outlet for her rage. She looked at me and asked, “Mia, what are you going to do?” I stared blankly at the bustling street outside the window for a long time before finally speaking: “I want to prepare a ‘surprise’ for him on my birthday.” Hearing that, Chloe slammed her hand on the table excitedly. “Beautiful! I am 100% on board. Whatever you need me to do, just say the word.” I laid out my entire plan to her. She nodded vigorously the whole time. At the very end, she added one condition. “Mia, leave everything to me. Once we nuke this situation, we are going on a massive vacation.” She looked at me with eager, hopeful eyes. I knew she was just terrified I was going to fall apart. When our eyes met, a genuine smile finally reached mine. “Okay!” 6 When Liam came home that night… I was just placing the last bowl of soup on the dining table. He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms securely around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder and nuzzled me affectionately a few times. “Having a wife is the best. I get to come home to a hot, home-cooked meal every day.” When he leaned in close, a faint, unfamiliar perfume drifted into my nose. My body instantly went rigid. Feigning absolute calm, I reached down and pried his hands off my waist. I said softly, “Go wash your hands and let’s eat.” The second he turned his back… The sweet, loving smile I had plastered on my face vanished, replaced by an expression of pure, freezing ice. As soon as he sat down at the table, his phone was practically glued to his hand. He was constantly typing and replying, a smug smile playing on his lips, completely ignoring the food in front of him. I looked up, my tone heavy with implication: “Who are you chatting with? You look really happy.” His head snapped up. In that split second of eye contact, I caught the unmistakable flash of pure panic in his eyes before he forced it down. He quickly smiled and explained, “No one special. Just the guys from work goofing off in the group chat.” I played along, asking with feigned curiosity, “Let me see! I love a good joke.” The next second, he locked the screen, placed the phone face down on the table, and put on a mask of casual indifference. “It’s just guy talk, nothing you’d find interesting.” He avoided looking at me and quickly urged, “Eat up, the food is going to get cold.” The last remaining glimmer of light in my eyes quietly extinguished. The shy, genuine boy from years ago could now lie directly to my face without even blinking. In that moment, I felt absolutely nothing but overwhelming, suffocating disappointment. 7 After dinner, he proactively volunteered to do the dishes. I sat on the living room sofa, watching him in the kitchen out of the corner of my eye. He was doing the dishes with one hand while staring at his phone in the other, a massive smile plastered permanently across his face. It’s honestly hilarious. Six years of deep, genuine connection, absolutely obliterated by the thrill of something ‘new.’ After cleaning up, he presented a cake box to me like he was offering up a grand prize. “Wifey, I got you your favorite! Tiramisu.” He looked at me with eager anticipation, his tone exactly like a child desperate for praise. I’ve always loved desserts. I genuinely believed that sweet things could fix a bad mood. But right now, no amount of sugar could mask the bitter taste in my mouth. I stared blankly at the cake box, completely zoning out. Seeing my reaction, Liam gently nudged me. “Wifey, what are you thinking about?” I finally snapped back to reality and was just reaching out to take the cake. Right at that moment, Liam’s phone, which he had left sitting on the table, suddenly rang. Before I could even read the caller ID, he snatched it up with terrifying speed, as if terrified I would see it. Because he moved so frantically, he dropped the hand holding the cake. My outstretched hand grasped at empty air, and the cake plummeted directly onto the floor. But the phone just kept ringing incessantly. Liam was so desperate to decline the call that his finger slipped, and he accidentally answered it. “Liam.” A soft, gentle female voice drifted from the speaker. She sounded like she was crying. I looked up at him, perfectly capturing the raw panic flashing in his eyes. He frantically mashed the volume down button until the phone was completely silent. His expression instantly morphed into his usual, calm mask. He pointed at the phone screen and mouthed the words to me: “It’s a coworker.” Then he took the phone and practically sprinted to the balcony. 8 I watched his retreating back and actually let out a dry laugh. I didn’t follow him. I just stared blankly at the completely ruined cake splattered across the hardwood floor. It felt like a perfect metaphor for our future. About fifteen minutes later, Liam finished his call and walked back inside, just as I was scraping the ruined cake into the trash can. He looked at me apologetically. “Wifey, there was an emergency at work. I’m so sorry you didn’t get to eat your cake.” I smiled, my tone incredibly light and airy. “It’s fine. It got dirty, so I threw it away. It’s just a cake.” He stood there awkwardly, his eyes shifting nervously. I asked, playing the perfect, understanding girlfriend: “What’s wrong? Is it a serious emergency?” He said apologetically, “There’s a massive issue with one of our core projects. That coworker was literally crying on the phone about it. I have to go to the office and sort it out right now.” He quickly added, “I’ll buy you a new cake on my way back.” He used his standard, sweet, coaxing tone, his face completely composed. I smiled and teased, “Does everyone at work call you ‘Liam’ so casually?” His body went rigid, the smile freezing instantly on his face. I waved my hand dismissively. “I’m just joking! Hurry up and go, don’t let work wait.” He let out a very obvious, massive sigh of relief, threw on his jacket, and hurried out the door. After Liam left… I hailed a cab and had the driver tail his car. The driver was a chatty, friendly older guy. When I told him to follow the car in front of us, he happily agreed. He asked, curious: “Miss, is that your husband up there?” I paused for a second before answering: “My boyfriend!” He immediately sensed the dark mood and understood the situation entirely. He promised me: “Don’t worry, I won’t lose him.” 9 The car eventually pulled up in front of a bakery. The name on the sign was incredibly familiar. It was the bakery Liam had been buying cakes from for the past two years. He had barely reached the front door when a figure burst out from inside. She threw herself into his arms like a butterfly landing on a flower. The girl looked exactly like her photos—young, vibrant, and radiant. He reached out and gently ruffled her hair, his movements incredibly tender. The girl wrapped her slender arms around his neck, clearly whining and acting cute. Liam reached up and playfully pinched her nose, his face full of absolute adoration. I watched as the girl went up on her tiptoes and proactively kissed him. After six years together, saying I wasn’t heartbroken would be a lie. My nose stung, my eyes instantly turned bloodshot, and tears began to fall uncontrollably. The driver quickly offered me a box of tissues, trying awkwardly to comfort me. “Miss, please don’t be too sad. “My wife thought I was too poor and ran off with another man. “I lived off plain rice and hot water for a whole month. “But look at me now, I survived and I’m doing fine.” His words of comfort obviously didn’t fix the massive hole in my chest. But I was incredibly grateful for his kindness. I thanked him, paid the fare, and got out of the cab. 10 Liam and I started dating the summer after we graduated high school. I still vividly remember him confessing to me. He was so nervous he couldn’t even lift his head, the tips of his ears burning bright red, completely giving him away. “Mia… I like you. “Will you be my girlfriend?” When our eyes finally met, we both instinctively looked away. We were so incredibly young and inexperienced. Even though our hearts were bursting with love, we had absolutely no idea what we were doing. 11 That teenage boy’s love had been so passionate, so fierce, and so undeniably genuine. He would run across campus in a torrential downpour just to bring me an umbrella. When my stomach hurt, he would sit there and massage it for hours without a single complaint. When I woke up starving at 2 AM, he would get out of bed without a second thought and go buy me food. And back then, I would save my allowance for months just to buy him a high-end graphics card for his gaming PC. I would spend an entire month meticulously planning and preparing his birthday present. During winter and summer breaks, we would travel everywhere together. Meeting him felt like the luckiest thing that had ever happened to me. We were about to make the journey from high school uniforms to wedding attire. It had been six full years. But now, he had personally taken a sledgehammer to every single expectation I had for our future.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391741”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I woke up in the middle of a “Tragic Wife” novel—the kind where the heroine dies a slow, miserable death just so the hero can finally realize he loved her all along. Right now, I was at the part where the husband brings his pregnant “soulmate” into our home and demands I wait on her hand and foot. He’d just finished warning me not to try any “pathetic little tricks,” reminding me that his heart belonged only to her. Knowing how the plot was supposed to go, I nearly burst out laughing. Why? Because that baby isn’t even his. When I told him, he didn’t believe me. He thought I was just being a jealous, delusional bitch. He was so enraged by my “slander” that he locked me in the cellar, practically intending to starve the truth out of me. To survive, I had no choice but to seduce his best friend—the very doctor overseeing the mistress’s pregnancy. So, when the mistress tried to frame me for spiking her tea with abortifacients and my husband forced me to my knees to beg for forgiveness, his best friend stepped forward as my alibi. “Gavin, leave her alone,” he said, his voice cold and steady. “She couldn’t have done it. She was with me all night. She never even came home.” My husband’s face turned a shade of white I didn’t know was humanly possible. … Before I ended up here, I thought I had it made. I had a solid career, a fat savings account, and zero drama. After waking up in this body, all I could think was: I am screwed. I had been dropped into a “Dead Protagonist” story. The life of Riley Prescott, the woman I now inhabited, had been a relentless sequence of tragedies. Orphaned young, bullied in school, starving and cold—she was the poster child for misery. By some twist of fate, she had saved the male lead, Gavin West, when they were younger. But her bully, Melanie Hart, stole the credit. Riley, being the quintessential martyr, never said a word. She just watched as Gavin fell for her tormentor. When they eventually married—a business arrangement Gavin’s mother forced—Gavin treated it like a prison sentence. Now, he was forcing Riley to serve the woman who had made her childhood a living hell. In the original book, Riley works herself to the bone until she develops terminal cancer and dies. Only then does Gavin see Melanie’s true colors. Cue the “husband’s funeral regret” and the tear-jerking redemption arc. Readers were supposedly moved to tears, claiming Gavin “just didn’t know how to love” and was “blinded by the villainess.” To hell with that. Blinded? He was a sociopath. The second I realized where I was, I didn’t waste time trying to punch Gavin or run away. I went straight to the hospital for a full work-up. When the results came back clean, I let out the longest breath of my life. Thank God. No cancer. Not yet. But then, my phone buzzed. It was Gavin. “Riley, Melanie is at the house. Where the hell are you? Stop acting out.” I blinked, trying to ground myself. “Who? Who did you say is at the house?” “Melanie Hart,” he snapped. “Her pregnancy is high-risk, and I need you there to look after her. Don’t do anything stupid. Be the bigger person for once.” “When the baby is born, I’ll let it call you ‘mother.’ But that’s all I can give you. Melanie is the only woman I’ve ever loved.” So, here it was. The pivotal moment. The next step in the script was me becoming a literal servant until my body gave out. I wasn’t going to follow that script. “Gavin,” I said, my voice dripping with forced pity. “Don’t be a sucker. That kid isn’t yours.” In my head, I figured if he saw Melanie for who she was, we could reach a civil truce. I’d ask for a divorce, take a nice settlement, and be free. Gavin’s voice turned icy. “Is this your new game, Riley? Slander? Just wait until I get my hands on you.” … It didn’t take long. A group of his “security” team cornered me and dragged me back to the estate. He didn’t put me in a bedroom. He put me in the reinforced cellar, a literal gilded cage. Gavin looked down at me, his expression cold. “No food until I say so. Maybe a little hunger will clear your head.” I grabbed the bars, my heart hammering. “Gavin! I’m telling you the truth! Just run a DNA test. Check her phone!” Melanie’s baby belonged to some guy named Travis—a deadbeat she’d been seeing on the side. She only came to Gavin for the bank account and the social standing. Gavin just sneered. “You think I’d believe a word out of your mouth?” Damn it. I was too naive. By the end of the first day, the hunger was unbearable. I wasn’t the type who could skip a meal without getting a migraine, let alone a whole day. I decided to fake a collapse. It didn’t take long for someone to find me. The man who came to check on me was Sebastian Mercer—”Bash” to his friends. He was Gavin’s best friend, a top-tier OB-GYN, and coincidentally, Melanie’s doctor. I realized immediately that I couldn’t fool a doctor with a fake faint. As his hand reached for my wrist to check my pulse, I shifted it away. He tried again; I moved again. Finally, Bash sighed. “Riley. Stop it.” I opened one eye. Before I could speak, my stomach let out a thunderous growl. “I’m starving,” I whispered. Bash started to stand up, his face an unreadable mask of professional detachment. I reached out, grabbed his hand, and pulled it firmly against my chest. “I’m actually in a lot of pain,” I said, looking up at him through my lashes. He tried to pull his hand back, but I held on tight. Bash was one of the few characters in the book who wasn’t a total monster. He had a code. He had a conscience. Eventually, he caved. He brought me a tray of food from the kitchen, and I inhaled it like it was my last meal. When I finished, he stepped back. “You can go back to the room now.” I shook my head. I wasn’t going back into that cellar. But Gavin’s men were everywhere. I couldn’t run. I pressed a hand to my forehead. “I can’t. I’m dizzy. Blood sugar… I think I’m going down again.” Bash frowned, but before he could react, I “fainted” right into his arms. “Riley, get up,” he muttered, his breath hitching. I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face against the solid muscle of his chest. “I’m not going back down there. Help me. Or I’ll tell Gavin you were feeling me up during the exam.” “To a doctor, there is no gender, only patients,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. I leaned up and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his jaw. “How about now? Still just a patient?” … I was going to ruin Sebastian Mercer. I had to. In the original story, Bash was the one who eventually handled Riley’s funeral arrangements. He was the only one who showed her a shred of dignity in death. That meant he had a crack in his armor—a latent guilt regarding how Gavin treated me. In this world, I needed an ally. Bash’s ears turned a deep shade of crimson. “You’re my best friend’s wife. Have some self-respect.” But he didn’t pull his hand away from my waist. “Best friends shouldn’t keep secrets, right? Melanie’s pregnant. I’ll be out on the street the second that baby breathes. I won’t be ‘the wife’ for long.” Just then, the housekeeper’s voice drifted from the hallway. “Dr. Mercer? Ms. Hart says she wants the mistress to prepare her dinner.” I looked up at him, my eyes welling with practiced tears. “See? This is my life. The legal wife, serving the pregnant mistress. It’s pathetic.” Bash looked toward the door, then back at me. “You can order takeout. I’ll handle the staff.” He handed me his phone. When the food arrived, I didn’t just plate it. I went into the kitchen and added a few “special” ingredients—bitter herbs, extra salt, and some stuff I’d found in the back of the pantry that definitely wasn’t meant for human consumption. I stirred it until it was a homogenous, disgusting mess. I carried it up to Melanie’s room, playing the role of the defeated wife. Melanie was lounging in bed, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “Oh, Riley. You’re so pretty. It’s a shame, really. Even with that face, you couldn’t keep Colton interested. He loves me.” “Thank you,” I said sweetly. “I agree. I am very pretty.” Melanie’s smile faltered. She picked up a crystal vase from the nightstand and hurled it at me. I ducked with a grace I didn’t know I possessed. She threw something else. I dodged again. “You should eat,” I said, grinning. “Before it gets cold. You wouldn’t want the baby to go hungry.” Melanie touched her stomach protectively. “Give it here. And if my son doesn’t like it, I’ll have Gavin skin you alive.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing as I handed her the tray. I watched her take a big, greedy bite. It wasn’t poisonous—I wasn’t a murderer—it was just… filthy. The original Riley was too good for this world. She actually served this woman. Me? I was going to enjoy every second of the payback. When she finished, she held out the plate. As I reached for it, she let go. The porcelain shattered against the hardwood. Then, she scrambled out of bed and threw herself into Gavin’s arms as he walked through the door. “Gavin! I don’t know what I did to upset her! I just wanted to bond over dinner, and she… she smashed the dishes and threatened me!” Gavin wrapped an arm around her, his eyes burning with disgust as he looked at me. “Riley, is your life really so empty that all you can do is play these petty, jealous games?” I almost laughed. This guy was the hero? This was what readers “forgave”? “Gavin, you’re pathetic,” I said, my voice clear and sharp. “Bringing a mistress into our home? I’ve never seen a man with so little dignity.” He deserved the horns he was wearing. Gavin’s face twisted. He wasn’t used to me talking back. Before he could erupt and throw me back in the cellar, I did the only logical thing. I fainted. Again. Practice makes perfect. I even managed to fall in a way that looked elegant. Gavin froze, his instinct to reach for me warring with his loyalty to Melanie. Melanie saw it and immediately moaned, “Gavin, the baby… he kicked. Hard. I feel sick.” His attention snapped back to her. “I’ll get Bash to check on you.” I stayed still until they left. When I opened my eyes, I was staring directly into Sebastian’s gaze. He was standing there in his white lab coat, looking down at me. “I heard you collapsed. Again.” I sighed. Gavin was a lost cause, but Bash… Bash actually looked concerned. I reached out a hand to him. “Help me up. My blood sugar is crashing.” The moment he pulled me up, I tucked myself against him, letting my hands wander over the firm lines of his chest and abdomen. “You smell amazing, Doctor,” I whispered, inhaling the scent of expensive cologne and sterile soap. Bash stiffened, but he didn’t push me away. “Riley, stop. I’m not Gavin.” “I know,” I murmured, leaning in closer. “You’re much better. You’re the one taking care of me.” I squeezed his arm, letting my fingers linger. Suddenly, Gavin’s voice boomed from the doorway. “What the hell is going on in here?” Bash didn’t flinch. “I’m helping her up, Gavin. She’s hypoglycemic. She needs medical attention, not a jail cell.” Gavin bought it instantly. In his mind, Riley was too obsessed with him to ever cheat, and Bash was too “noble” to ever touch another man’s wife. I stayed slumped against Bash, sounding as pathetic as possible. “It’s my fault, Gavin. If only you’d let me eat, I wouldn’t be such a burden. Now I’m too weak to even look after Melanie.” Gavin’s expression soured. He hated being reminded of his own cruelty when it wasn’t framed as “discipline.” “Stand up, Riley,” he barked. He ignored my words, but his eyes kept darting to where Bash’s hand was resting on my waist. It was bothering him. Good. I tried to stand, but I let my knees buckle, “falling” backward. Bash caught me by reflex. One hand on my shoulder, the other sliding right under my thigh to steady me. “Oh… sorry,” I whispered. “I’m just so weak.” Gavin’s pulse was visible in his neck. He was losing his mind. He shoved Bash aside and grabbed my wrist, hauling me out of the room. “Riley! We’re leaving!” As he dragged me away, I looked back at Bash and mouthed three words: Tonight. My room. I knew Bash was hooked. Men like him—the “good” ones—can’t resist the thrill of something forbidden. He hadn’t pushed me away once. That primal reflex when he caught me? That wasn’t a doctor’s move. That was a man’s. Gavin threw me onto the sofa in the living room. “Riley, faking illness won’t get you my sympathy. You are going to take care of Melanie, and you’re going to do it with a smile.” I stared at him, genuinely puzzled. “We have a dozen maids, Gavin. Why me?” “Because you owe me,” he whispered, leaning down. “You’re the one who insisted on this marriage. You’re the reason Melanie and I were separated. You brought this on yourself.” What a load of horse-shit. The original Riley only married him because Gavin had been drugged at a party, wandered into the wrong room, and forced himself on her while she was working as a waitress. Gavin’s mother found out and forced the marriage to avoid a scandal. She threatened to cut off the funding for the orphanage Riley grew up in if she didn’t comply. Gavin knew this, but in his twisted head, he was the victim. Before I could tear into him, Melanie’s voice drifted down the stairs. “Gavin! The baby moved! Come see!” He dropped my arm and ran to her without a second thought. Bash stepped out of the bedroom, and I turned to him, my eyes red and shimmering. “Dr. Mercer… my heart hurts. Can you check it for me?” I was laying it on thick. Bash turned to leave, but I reached out and hooked my pinky around his. He could have broken the hold easily, but he stood there, frozen. “Sweetheart, it hurts,” I whispered. “I need you.” Bash’s face went pale. He looked around to make sure the coast was clear. “Riley, if you don’t love Gavin, divorce him. But don’t play with me.” I interlaced our fingers and kissed the back of his hand. “Take me for an exam. Somewhere private.” … Thanks to Bash, I actually got out of the house. I don’t know what medical jargon he used, but he convinced Gavin that I needed “specialized monitoring.” He took me to his private apartment. I spent the first hour poking around like a curious cat, eventually “discovering” that beneath his serious scrubs, he wore boxers with SpongeBob on them. He kept saying “no,” but his body was saying “yes.” By the time the sun started to go down, his interest in my “anatomy” had become very, very thorough. He explored, and I enjoyed. I’d picked a winner. The next morning, I was woken up by the shrill ringing of my phone. It was Gavin. “Riley! I thought you were finally behaving, but you’re still a monster!” Bash stirred next to me, his face groggy as he pulled my naked body against his chest. I snuggled into him, leaving a mark on his collarbone. Gavin’s voice was screaming through the speaker. “You dared to give Melanie abortifacients? I told you, I’d let you be the mother! Is your heart really that small?” Bash couldn’t help himself. He leaned over and spoke into the phone. “Gavin, she’s been with me all night. She hasn’t been anywhere near your house. She didn’t do it.” The silence on the other end was deafening. Bash hung up.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391757”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The notification hit my phone like a dopamine spike: a wire transfer of ten thousand dollars from my husband’s company finance department. My heart leaped. A bonus? Finally? After the year we’d had, this was salvation. Then the phone rang. It was the finance manager, a woman whose voice usually carried the friction of sandpaper. “That transfer was a mistake,” she barked, skipping the pleasantries. “It’s for the partner, not you. Send it back. Now.” I froze, phone pressed to my ear, confusion clouding my brain. “Excuse me?” She mistook my hesitation for resistance. Her tone sharpened. “Listen, if you don’t return it, and the actual wife finds out, you’re going to be in a world of pain.” The room seemed to tilt. My husband, Russell? The man known throughout our neighborhood as the patron saint of family values? The man who listed my bank account for his direct deposit because he ‘didn’t trust himself with money’? Every month, like clockwork, three thousand dollars hit my account. Every penny of his salary. I forced my voice to remain steady, though my hand was trembling. “Does he… does he send her ten thousand every month?” The finance manager scoffed, a sound dripping with disdain. “Yes. And honestly? As the mistress, you should be grateful for your three grand allowance. Don’t try to compete with the wife.” The air left my lungs. “How long?” I whispered. “How long has he been paying her?” “Seven years,” she snapped, her patience evaporating. “Now, wire the money back.” I felt the cut deep in my gut, severing reality from fiction. My devoted, frugal husband had been funding a second, luxurious life. And apparently, to the world, I was the other woman. “I’ll handle it,” I managed to choke out. “Thank you.” 1 The finance manager hung up, relieved, assuming I was a compliant side-piece who knew her place. I walked out into the biting November wind, heading toward the office building where Russell had worked for seven years. My body felt numb, like I’d been submerged in ice water. I replayed the last fifteen years of our marriage, hunting for the cracks, the missed clues. But there were none. No late nights. No unexplained absences. Even at 2:00 AM, he was always in our bed. This was a man who saved cardboard boxes from deliveries to resell for pennies. A man who wore his boxer briefs until the fabric disintegrated, stitching them up rather than spending five dollars on a new pack. How could that man spend ten thousand dollars a month on a mistress? It wasn’t just him. Our entire family lived in a state of carefully curated poverty. His three-thousand-dollar salary. One thousand for his mother’s medical bills. Five hundred for rent in this crumbling apartment complex. I gave him two hundred for pocket money and five hundred for gas. That left eight hundred dollars. Eight hundred dollars to feed a family of four, pay utilities, and keep our daughter in school supplies. We bought vegetables at the grocery store minutes before closing to get the discounted, bruised produce. We lived in the cheapest unit in the worst part of town. We split pennies. We survived. He quit smoking to save money. He drove Uber after work until his eyes were red-rimmed with fatigue. To our neighbors, we were the gold standard of hardworking, blue-collar struggle. It was all a lie. A performance art piece. I entered the lobby of his office building. The receptionist, a bright-eyed girl no older than twenty, smiled professionally. “Can I help you?” “I’m looking for Russell,” I said. “Russell Davis.” “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Davis?” My stomach turned. The finance woman had called him Mr. Davis. Not Russell from accounting. Mr. Davis. “Just tell him Meredith is here.” The girl’s smile didn’t falter. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but the owner is out of the office right now. Perhaps you could call his cell?” Owner. The word echoed like a gunshot. Russell didn’t work here. He owned this place. And for seven years, I had been completely blind. 2 I swallowed the scream building in my throat and glanced past the receptionist. It was a boutique operation, maybe thirty employees, sleek modern furniture. Not a Fortune 500, but definitely not the warehouse job he claimed to have. There was a small coffee shop downstairs. I bought a four-dollar lemonade and sat by the window. Normally, that four dollars would have haunted me for days. That was a dinner for my family. That was two pairs of socks for my daughter, Hallie. That was a treat she’d beg for but I’d have to deny. I took a sip. It was sour, stinging my tongue. With shaking fingers, I downloaded a business registry app and typed in Russell’s name. There it was. Russell Davis. CEO. Founder. Board Member. Registered seven years ago. Capital: $200,000. E-commerce. I remembered that year. He had come home, lifting me off the ground, spinning me around until we were both dizzy. “Babe, I got a job! Three thousand a month! We’re going to be okay!” I believed him. God, I believed him. Back then, we were both nobodies. I was stocking shelves; he was inventory management. We fell in love in the breakroom of a logistics center. When Hallie was born, his mother’s health collapsed. I quit my job to care for the baby and the invalid. I ran the house. I nursed his mother through strokes and bedsores. When my back ached so bad I couldn’t stand, Russell would massage my shoulders, whispering, “I’m sorry, Meredith. I know it’s hard. Thank you.” The irony tasted like bile. When my lemonade was half gone, a sleek black SUV pulled up to the curb. Russell stepped out. He wasn’t wearing the faded, stained sweatpants he’d left the house in this morning. He was in a tailored charcoal suit that fit him perfectly. He walked around the car and opened the passenger door. A woman stepped out. High heels. A dress that hugged curves I hadn’t possessed in a decade. Glossy black hair, porcelain skin. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. Russell took her hand, interlacing their fingers, and led her into the building. My heart didn’t break; it shattered. It felt like my chest was caving in. I had imagined this scene a thousand times in nightmares—storming in, screaming, tearing his reputation to shreds. But in reality? I just felt… empty. My phone buzzed. A text from Hallie. Mom, where are you? I’m starving. The tears finally came, hot and fast, splashing onto my cracked phone screen. My daughter. Hallie was in middle school. She didn’t buy lunch; I made it every morning. I picked her up every night at 9:30 PM after her extracurriculars because we couldn’t afford the bus fare. Her father wouldn’t spend five dollars on her lunch, but he was spending ten thousand a month on this woman. I took a deep breath, wiping my face with my rough sleeve. I opened Uber Eats and ordered ribs, fries, and a salad to be delivered to Hallie’s school. The internet was right: If you don’t spend your husband’s money, someone else will. I waited. I waited until Russell and the woman came out. I followed their SUV in a cab, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. They drove to a gated community in the suburbs—the kind of place with manicured lawns and HOA fees higher than my rent. Thirty minutes later, they emerged. But there was a third person. A boy. Maybe six years old. I watched through the tint of the taxi window as the boy ran to Russell, shouting, “Daddy!” He had a son. The boy looked exactly like him. The eyes, the chin. It was a dagger twisting in my open wound. 3 When I gave birth to Hallie, I almost died. An amniotic fluid embolism. It was chaos. Russell had been a wreck. The nurses told me later that he fell to his knees in the hallway, sobbing, begging the doctors. “Save my wife. I don’t care about the baby. Just save Meredith. I’ll sell everything. Just save her.” He wasn’t a religious man, but that night he prayed to every god he could name. When I survived, he held me for hours, weeping. “No more,” he had whispered into my hair. “One daughter is enough. I’m never putting you through that again.” Even when his father threatened to disown him for not producing a male heir, Russell flipped the table. He cut ties with his dad to protect me. “Nothing matters more than Meredith’s life,” he told his relatives. Everyone said I was lucky. Everyone said Russell was a saint. It was all a joke. He didn’t stop having kids because he loved me. He stopped because he was having his son with someone else. I followed them to a high-end steakhouse. From a distance, I watched him order—filet mignon, lobster, expensive wine. I watched him cut the meat for the boy, wiping the kid’s mouth with a tenderness that made me sick. Last month, Hallie had asked, “Dad, can I go to the hibachi place with my friends? It’s twenty dollars.” He had looked at her sternly. “If you get straight A’s this semester, maybe.” Hallie was a B-student. He knew she wouldn’t get the money. Rage, cold and sharp, replaced my sorrow. I pulled out my phone and texted Grant, my nephew. He was a lawyer, sharp as a whip. I sent him everything. The location. The photos. The company details. Grant: Aunt Meredith, stay calm. Do not confront him yet. Let me dig. We need undeniable proof. I left the restaurant and went to pick up Hallie. I didn’t have a car. I drove a rusty 2004 sedan with no heater that sounded like a lawnmower. The wind cut right through the door seals. Hallie hopped in, shivering but beaming. “Mom! Did you win the lottery? That food was amazing!” I forced a smile, looking at her innocent face in the rearview mirror. “Something like that. I won fifty bucks on a scratch-off. I saved the rest so we can go get dinner together later.” “Really?” Her eyes widened. “Can we go to that hibachi place? I want you to try it.” 4 When we got home, Russell wasn’t there yet. My mother-in-law, Barbara, was in her room, shouting. “Where have you been? I’m starving in here! Useless…” Hallie sighed. “I’m hungry too, Mom.” I went to the kitchen. I boiled water for pasta. Simple. Cheap. Russell walked in just as I was draining the noodles. He was back in his costume—the faded hoodie and stained jeans. “Dinner’s ready,” I said, my voice flat. He patted his stomach, grimacing. “I grabbed a slice of pizza while I was driving Uber. My stomach’s acting up. I’m just going to crash.” He always did this. ‘I ate a cheap hot dog, my stomach hurts.’ It was his excuse to avoid eating our meager food. I used to worry about his nutrition. Now I knew he was just full of lobster. “Take a bowl to your mom first,” I said. He smiled, that boyish, charming smile. “You’re such a good wife, Meredith.” The words felt like a slap. He went into Barbara’s room. I walked past the door a moment later and heard whispering. “You’re a big shot boss now, Russell,” Barbara hissed. “Get me a nurse. What good is she? She can’t even give you a son. Thank god I have my grandson. When are you going to put him on the family tree? I can’t face your father in the afterlife like this.” My blood froze. She knew. The old witch knew everything. I was the only one playing the fool. Later, in bed, Russell turned to me. “Babe, I found a gig for you. My friend needs a housekeeper for his parents. Cooking, cleaning. Two grand a month.” I stared at him in the dark. “A housekeeper?” “It’s easy money,” he said. The next day, he drove me to the address. It was a nice condo. As we walked in, I saw a framed photo on the mantel. It was the mistress. Kinsley. And her parents. He wanted me to clean his mistress’s parents’ house. I turned to him, my voice trembling with a mixture of rage and disbelief. “Is that what I am to you? A servant? I’m supposed to scrub their toilets?” He looked panic-stricken for a split second, then recovered. “Meredith, don’t be like that. It’s just a job…” I walked out. That night, while he slept, I unlocked his phone. My hands shook as I scrolled. The things I found… It wasn’t just infidelity. It was criminal. Grant sent me a file the next morning. This is it, Auntie. It’s over. I saw the calendar notification on Russell’s phone: Company Gala. The Grand Hotel. I made my decision. The next morning, Russell left in his rags. I followed him. I waited until the gala was in full swing. I waited until he was on stage, holding Kinsley’s hand, soaking in the applause as the “power couple” of the year. I dialed 911. Then I called the FBI tip line number Grant had given me. As the sirens wailed outside the hotel, police officers and agents marched into the ballroom. They approached the stage. “Russell Davis?” an officer asked, handcuffs glinting under the chandelier. Russell looked confused. “Yes?” “We have a warrant for your arrest regarding multiple counts of wire fraud and human trafficking schemes. You have the right to remain silent.” Russell’s face went white. He looked out into the crowd, searching for an ally, and his eyes landed on me. I was walking down the center aisle, slow and steady.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391775”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My son and I were kidnapped. The kidnappers live-streamed our ordeal online, threatening to chop my son into pieces and feed him to the dogs if the ransom wasn’t paid. Instantly, the entire internet was searching for my husband. But what they didn’t know was that at that exact moment, trending on social media, the billionaire CEO officially announcing his relationship with an award-winning actress—the picture of a happy family of three—was my husband. My son’s father. The two trending topics side-by-side were a hilariously cruel joke. Later, out of a twisted sense of pity, the kidnappers only took one of my son’s hands. Dragging his severed left arm, he crawled all the way back home, only to run straight into my husband celebrating the birthday of his ‘first love’s’ child. My husband frowned, looking down at my son’s curled-up, bleeding body with freezing, emotionless eyes. “You really are Mia’s kid. Just like your mother, all you know how to do is play the victim.” My son looked up, using his only remaining hand to tug weakly at my husband’s pant leg. “Mister… can you please lend me some money… so I can bury my mom?” 1 Twenty-three hours into our agonizing torture at the hands of the kidnappers. Arthur Sterling, the wealthiest man in the city, was currently celebrating the sixth birthday of his first love’s child. I had dialed his number eighty-eight times. Every single time, it went straight to voicemail. The kidnapper, furious and impatient, grabbed me by the hair and dragged me across the concrete floor to my son, his face contorted with rage. “Isn’t Arthur Sterling your husband?! Why the hell won’t he answer his phone?!” “Are you intentionally dialing the wrong number just to stall for time?!” He viciously yanked a handful of hair straight from my scalp. The agonizing pain twisted my face into a grimace. Tossing the bloody clump of hair onto the floor, the kidnapper sneered, spat directly in my face, and threatened: “I am giving you one last chance. If that phone doesn’t connect this time, don’t blame me for getting creative.” He pointed a finger at my son, who was pale and trembling with terror, making it horrifyingly clear what would happen next. The next victim would be my six-year-old baby. The excruciating pain made my entire body shake uncontrollably, but I didn’t dare fight back. I had to protect my child. With trembling hands, I dialed Arthur’s number for the eighty-ninth time. Ring… Ring… “Hello?” Arthur’s deep, magnetic voice finally came through the speaker. The moment I heard his voice, tears instantly flooded my eyes. A chaotic mix of overwhelming relief and paralyzing terror made me blurt out frantically: “Arthur, please, we’ve been kidnapped, you have to—” Before I could even finish the sentence, the man on the other end cut me off with obvious, dripping disgust: “Enough, Mia. I don’t care what pathetic act you’re pulling this time, but leave Leo out of it!” “If you have even a shred of conscience left, stop using your son as a prop to get my attention.” With that, he hung up without a second’s hesitation. The kidnapper’s expression darkened, his predatory gaze locking onto my son. Ignoring my own despair, I immediately redialed the number, terrified that even a second’s delay would cost my son his life. The call connected again. I sobbed, begging him: “Arthur, I’m not lying! We really were kidnapped! I’m begging you, please save our baby!” The line was dead silent for two agonizing seconds before Arthur’s freezing, bone-chilling voice echoed through the speaker: “Then I’ll just wait until you’re both dead, and I’ll come collect the bodies.” Click. Arthur turned his phone off entirely. Simultaneously, my phone received a video message from Chloe Sinclair. In the video, Arthur, wearing a bespoke suit, was holding Chloe’s son, speaking eloquently to a crowd of reporters. “Yes, that’s right. This is Chloe’s and my child.” “Due to some unfortunate misunderstandings in the past, Chloe and I were forced apart. Now, we’ve decided to get back together.” “From now on, I will be a dedicated father, taking perfect care of Chloe and Toby.” Chloe stood beside him, smiling radiantly, the picture of absolute bliss. Attached to the video was a digital wedding invitation. [Mia, you and Leo are cordially invited to attend our wedding on the 5th of next month.] [We’d also love it if Leo could be our ring bearer.] It felt like someone was physically shredding my heart into pieces. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe. Through my haze of agony, my son suddenly screamed. “Mommy!” The kidnapper, having lost all patience, hauled my son off the floor by his neck, lifting him entirely off the ground. “You little brat. Turns out you’re completely useless after all!” My son’s face rapidly turned a sickening shade of purple as his tiny hands beat uselessly against the kidnapper’s massive grip. “M-mommy…” A blinding, primal rage overpowered my terror. I screamed and lunged forward, desperate to tear my son from his grasp. Before I could even reach him, another kidnapper tackled me, pinning me to the ground and delivering several brutal punches to my face. “You stupid bitch! You still want to fight?!” As he spoke, he grabbed a thick, rusted steel rebar from the floor and forced it violently into my mouth, twisting and jamming it repeatedly. The coarse, jagged metal ripped through my gums and tongue, filling my mouth with a thick, choking foam of blood. The agony was so absolute I could only make muffled, guttural noises. It wasn’t until he had fully exhausted his rage that the kidnapper finally dropped my son back onto the concrete. He ordered his accomplice to open a live-streaming app on his phone. “Since he doesn’t believe the phone calls, we’ll just livestream a little child abuse.” “I refuse to believe Arthur Sterling is actually that cold-blooded. There’s no way he just abandons his own flesh and blood.” 2 The kidnapper’s livestream of my son being tortured hit the trending charts at the exact same moment Arthur’s public relationship announcement did. In front of the flashing cameras, Arthur affectionately placed Chloe’s son on his shoulders, smiling at the reporters: “Alright, that concludes today’s interview. Chloe and I need to go celebrate our son’s birthday now.” Chloe playfully swatted his arm, her voice dripping with affection. “Arthur is always like this. He’s always been such an incredible father.” Meanwhile, in the filthy warehouse, the kidnapper shoved my son into a burlap sack, kicking and beating him like a literal punching bag. I was tied securely to a chair, forced to watch this horrific scene unfold with my own eyes. My son’s initial, agonizing screams slowly faded into weak, pathetic whimpers, like a dying kitten. The live chat was scrolling at a frantic pace: [I can’t watch this! The kid sounds like he’s dying!] [Didn’t they say if the dad just gets on a call, they’ll let the kid go?! Where the hell is the dad?!] [Can anyone please contact the father?! Save that poor baby!] The kidnapper dragged my son out of the bloody sack, his eyes filled with malicious intent. “You little brat. Looks like your dad really can hold out. Even after all this, he still won’t show his face.” “Fine. Don’t blame me for what happens next.” He picked up the heavy steel rebar from the floor and took a step toward my son. “I’ll give you something to cry about!” My eyes widened in absolute, paralyzing horror. Dragging the heavy chair with me, I threw myself to the floor, kowtowing frantically until my forehead bled. “Please! I’m begging you, don’t hurt my baby! I’m not afraid of pain, do whatever you want to me! Just let him go, please!” My forehead slammed against the concrete over and over, quickly pooling blood on the floor. My son slowly opened his eyes, looking at me and weakly shaking his head. “No, Mommy… Leo doesn’t hurt… Leo doesn’t hurt at all.” His tiny voice pierced my chest like a jagged knife. But I couldn’t show fear. He was only six years old. His life had barely even begun. Tears and blood streamed down my face as I offered him the same gentle, reassuring smile I always did. “Leo, Mommy is a grown-up. Grown-ups don’t feel pain.” My son looked at me, his eyes full of innocent confusion, and kept shaking his head. The kidnapper lost whatever shred of patience he had left. He raised the rebar high and marched toward my son. “You little shit, I’ll shut you up!” In a split second of pure adrenaline, I lunged forward with everything I had, violently shoving my son out of the way. The heavy steel rebar came crashing down, driving straight through my body. The unimaginable trauma caused my body to convulse uncontrollably, but I fought with every ounce of my being not to scare my child. Even after the kidnapper violently wrenched the rebar free, I desperately maintained the smile on my face. I wanted to tell my child not to be afraid. I wanted to tell him how incredibly much I loved him. But as the blood filled my throat, all I could manage was: “Leo, don’t cry. Mommy doesn’t hurt.” In the final moments before death took me, a chaotic montage of memories flashed through my mind. I remembered our wedding day. Arthur’s hands were shaking so violently from nerves that it took him several tries just to slide the ring onto my finger. I remembered the day I found out I was pregnant. Arthur’s eyes were bright red as he asked me, “Am I really going to be a dad?” I remembered Leo’s fifth birthday, and the massive, extravagant party Arthur threw for him. But those memories were quickly replaced by Chloe’s endless, calculated sabotage against me and my son after her divorce. I remembered Arthur’s initial doubt, shifting to deep disappointment, and finally settling into freezing, absolute apathy. As my vision blurred, I heard my son’s voice. He was saying: “Mommy, don’t go to sleep! Leo will be good! Leo will be so good and listen to everything you say!” “Mommy, please don’t sleep!” I summoned the absolute last fragment of my fading strength, trying to lift my hand to stroke his hair. But all I felt was hot, sticky blood. I’m so sorry. Mommy failed to protect you. I’m so sorry, Leo. My consciousness plummeted into absolute, eternal darkness. My son reached out with his tiny hands, desperately trying to stem the massive flow of blood pouring from my body. But it was entirely useless. The live chat completely lost its mind, scrolling so fast it was a blur: [You goddamn monsters! Where the hell are the cops?! Someone save them!] [WHERE IS THE DAD?! How can he still not be here?!] [Does anyone know who this kid is?! Please help them, I’m literally begging!] … The kidnappers panicked. One of them turned to the other, his voice tight: “What do we do?! The bitch is dead!” The other kidnapper narrowed his eyes, his voice sending chills down the spine: “It doesn’t matter. We still have the little one. We can still get the ransom.” He violently ripped my son away from my body and shoved him directly in front of the camera lens. Revealing his tiny face, completely covered in dark, horrific bruises. “Look closely, everyone! This kid’s father is the CEO of Sterling Group, Arthur Sterling!” The frantic scrolling of the live chat froze for a fraction of a second. Then it absolutely exploded. [How is that possible?! Didn’t CEO Sterling literally just announce his relationship with that actress?!] [Yeah! They do have a kid, but isn’t his name Toby?!] [Are these kidnappers psychotic?! Who tries to extort Arthur Sterling?!] [Exactly! They must have kidnapped the wrong people!] Amidst the chaotic speculation, a user suddenly dropped a bombshell. [I’m at the press conference right now! I just saw CEO Sterling check his phone!] [Just hold on a second! CEO Sterling definitely saw the news, he’ll be here any minute!] As soon as that message appeared, a massive, bolded comment was pinned to the top of the chat, instantly grabbing the kidnappers’ attention. [CONNECT WITH ME! I AM ARTHUR STERLING!] My son didn’t know how to read many words, but he knew the name “Arthur Sterling” meant “Daddy.” His dim eyes suddenly lit up with a desperate, fragile hope. “Daddy…” 3 The connection went live, but the face on the screen wasn’t Arthur’s. The kidnapper’s expression instantly darkened. He brutally pinned my son to the concrete floor, raising a meat cleaver, fully intending to sever his left arm. The man on the screen frantically shouted: [WAIT! Don’t do anything crazy! I am CEO Sterling’s personal executive assistant!] [I’m just calling to tell you that you’ve kidnapped the wrong people! Everyone at the company knows our CEO has always maintained an impeccable personal life. He absolutely does not have a child!] [The only child he acknowledges is Ms. Sinclair’s son, Toby! Please, do not hurt an innocent child!] The kidnapper let out a harsh, cynical scoff. He pressed the cold steel of the cleaver against my son’s neck, his voice dripping with venom: “I am giving you exactly ten minutes to put Arthur Sterling on this call, or I am going to use this kid’s head for target practice!” With no other options, the assistant immediately dialed Arthur’s private number. “Hello? Who are you looking for?” A young, innocent voice answered the phone, radiating pure, untainted joy. The next second, an incredibly fond, indulgent male voice drifted through the speaker. “Toby, the paper airplanes are done! Come here, Papa Arthur will play with you.” The boy gave a happy cheer and laughed brightly. “Okay! Papa Arthur, someone is on the phone for you.” Arthur took the phone, his tone instantly shifting to deep annoyance: “What is it? Didn’t I explicitly tell you that today is Toby’s birthday and I am not to be disturbed under any circumstances?” The assistant hesitated for a second before blurting out: “Mr. Sterling, do you… do you have another son named Leo? He’s…” “ENOUGH!” Arthur furiously cut the assistant off: “I have no idea how much Mia paid you to do this, but I am warning you right now: stop using children as pawns in her pathetic, desperate games!” “As of right now, I only have one son, and his name is Toby.” “Do not ever mention those people to me again!” With that, the line went dead. His voice had echoed clearly throughout the entire warehouse broadcast, instantly extinguishing the last, fragile spark of hope in my son’s eyes. He might not fully understand what “pawns” meant, but he understood with absolute, agonizing clarity that his father had just abandoned him. My son muttered the words softly to himself, his heart turning entirely to ash as he closed his eyes. In that moment, he completely stopped fighting. The livestream was abruptly terminated by the platform for graphic violence. Humiliated and enraged, the kidnapper raised the meat cleaver, fully intending to bring it down on my son’s neck, but his accomplice stopped him. He looked down at my son’s battered, bruised face and suggested: “Look, since Arthur Sterling refuses to acknowledge him, this kid is completely useless to us anyway.” “Just chop off one of his arms and dump him at Sterling’s mansion.” “Since he clearly misses his mommy so much, let’s give him a chance to bury her.” The kidnapper sneered, shifting the heavy cleaver to hover directly over my son’s left arm. The blade came crashing down. My son’s agonizing, blood-curdling scream echoed through the massive, empty warehouse. Miles away, while helping Toby cut his birthday cake, Arthur’s heart suddenly seized with a violent, inexplicable palpitation. 4 When he woke up again, missing an arm, my son had already been dumped in front of Arthur’s sprawling, multi-million-dollar estate. In the massive courtyard, a gigantic, custom-built toy castle dominated the lawn. Arthur and Chloe were happily playing games with Toby. The continuous sound of bright, echoing laughter drifted over the walls, slowly dragging my son back to consciousness. He agonizingly forced himself to roll over. He stared blankly through the wrought-iron gates at the picture-perfect, happy family, tears welling in his eyes. Then, he remembered what the kidnapper had said. I have to bury Mommy… Yes. I have to bury Mommy. Even though he didn’t fully comprehend the horrific permanence of death, his primal instincts told him this was the most important thing in the world. Ignoring the excruciating, blinding agony radiating from his severed shoulder, he used his only remaining hand to drag his body across the rough pavement. Inch by agonizing inch, he dragged himself toward the massive front gates of the estate. The sharp gravel tore at his palm, and dirt ground itself deep into his open, bleeding wounds. Every single inch he moved was an absolute, torturous hell. This was a child who used to run to me and cry over a scraped knee. Now, he simply let out a few weak, silent sobs before gritting his teeth and continuing to drag himself forward. He stared at the imposing gates slowly drawing closer, muttering to himself like a mantra: “Leo doesn’t hurt… Leo doesn’t hurt at all… I have to bury Mommy…” When his small, bloodied hand finally grasped the cold metal of the gate, he let out a massive sigh of relief. He forced his head up and used the absolute last shred of his energy to call out: “Daddy!” Hearing the voice, Arthur instinctively whipped his head around. Seeing the tiny, curled-up body lying just outside the gates, his expression froze, a flash of genuine, instinctual heartache crossing his eyes. Just as he took a step toward the gate, Chloe immediately intercepted him. “Arthur, is that Leo? Why is he here? Didn’t Mia say they were kidnapped?” Chloe’s expression twisted into a vicious sneer, though her voice remained sickeningly gentle. “But I guess it makes sense. Mia has always been incredibly jealous of how well you treat me and Toby. It’s completely in character for her to try and ruin Toby’s birthday.” “I just feel so incredibly sorry for Leo, being used as a pawn at such a young age.” Hearing Chloe’s words, the sudden softening in Arthur’s heart instantly hardened into ice. He stared at his son from a distance, his voice dripping with freezing, absolute apathy: “What? Your mom realized I wasn’t answering the phone, so she sent you here to play the victim?!” “I am utterly humiliated to have a son like you. From now on, unless I explicitly give you permission, you are strictly forbidden from calling me ‘Daddy.’” “I am going to count to three. You better get off the ground right now, or I promise you, you will deeply regret it!” My son’s pale, bloodless lips moved. He desperately wanted to explain, but the unimaginable pain had entirely drained his strength. Seeing that the boy still refused to move, an explosive rage ignited in Arthur’s chest. He turned around, snatched a heavy, die-cast toy airplane off the grass, and hurled it violently at my son. “I told you to get up! Stop putting on this pathetic act!” The heavy metal toy crashed brutally into my son’s forehead with a sickening thud. Blood instantly began pouring from the wound, dripping into his eyes, dyeing his entire world crimson. He desperately wanted to tell his dad that he wasn’t acting. That he was in agonizing, unspeakable pain. But he literally didn’t have the strength to make a sound. Seeing his son still lying completely motionless, Arthur completely lost his mind. He aggressively shook off Chloe’s hand and marched furiously toward the gate: “Are you really going to stubbornly defy me?! Do you honestly believe I won’t—” Before he could finish the threat, his phone began ringing with a piercing, urgent tone. “Hello? Am I speaking to Mr. Arthur Sterling? We received multiple emergency reports. Your child was subjected to a live-streamed torture session by kidnappers earlier today. Your wife was killed on the scene.” “We urgently request that you come down to the station immediately to assist with our investigation.” Clatter. The phone slipped from Arthur’s hand, hitting the pavement. He finally noticed the massive, horrific amount of blood soaking his son’s clothes. His eyes instantly turned bloodshot. My son had finally gathered enough strength. He forced his head up, using his only remaining hand to weakly tug at Arthur’s pant leg: “Mister… can you please lend me some money… so I can bury my mommy?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391793”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Chloe and I sat side-by-side on the plush sofa, scrolling through our phones. Her finger suddenly froze on the screen. I leaned in to look. Oh boy. A well-known paparazzo had snapped a photo of her husband, Arthur Sterling, eating with the newly returned “white lotus,” Lily White. They were arm-in-arm, looking incredibly intimate. Lily White was the childhood crush of both Sterling brothers, and their families were close friends. Since we married into the family, she had only existed in the mouth of our sweet, naive mother-in-law. “Lily hasn’t called me, I miss her so much. “Which one of you will ask Lily when she’s coming back?” Lily this, Lily that, all day long. It gave both of us a complex. Chloe’s expression was dazed for a moment. But she quickly calmed down and asked me with a pained look: “I’m preparing to divorce. “Are you divorcing?” My interest level was at 10%. After all, I had been Chloe’s loyal follower since we were kids. She studied science, so I studied science. She went to Z University, so I tagged along to Z University. She married into the Sterling family, and I happily followed suit and married in too. But my husband hadn’t eaten with his childhood crush, so wouldn’t divorce be a bit excessive? Seeing my hesitation, she upped the ante. “Arthur’s salary card is with me; I can support you. “After we divorce, we’ll each get two male models and travel the world.” My interest level rose to 40%. Male models sounded pretty good, but just two… They might not even be as good as my husband, William Sterling. “Ten! Ten male models!” My interest level hit 80%. My eyes widened, and the word “Okay” was on the tip of my tongue, ready to blurt out at any moment. But the last shred of reason was still pulling me back. The phone’s notification chime dinged, and a conspicuous headline caught me off guard. 『New “White Lotus” Lily White Successfully Becomes the Annual Spokesperson for the Sterling Group! Signing Fee Could Reach Fifty Million!』 The accompanying picture was a photo of her cutting the ribbon with William Sterling. She was smiling beautifully, looking triumphant. And behind her, my dead husband was looking at her with deep, intense eyes. He had never looked at me with those eyes. Every time I joked with him or did something silly, he would look at me like I was an idiot and say: “Are you sick?” Thinking of this, I steeled my heart and said: “Divorce!” Chloe was overjoyed and immediately called a lawyer. She was very articulate when discussing property division matters. Hearing her say she wanted to split half of the Sterling family’s assets, my eyes went wide. How much money would that be… She was even bargaining with the lawyer on the other end of the phone, saying that handling two people’s lawsuits should get a 20% discount. That’s why Chloe is the big sister and I’m the little follower. Her brain just works better. I stared at my phone wallpaper, which was a wedding photo of me and William. I was still a bit reluctant. After all, besides giving me money, William also gave me a lot of happiness on a physical level… I spoke up weakly from the side: “Um… make sure to find male models who are good in bed.” Chloe turned to look at me, her expression instantly becoming stiff. I was still immersed in my beautiful fantasy and continued: “They must be better than William Sterling!” Chloe covered her mouth, looking like she wanted to scream, and pointed tremblingly behind me. Before I could turn my head, a familiar hand reached over. It grabbed the back of my neck and lifted me to his side like a little chicken. His voice was icy cold: “If I’m good in bed, why are you divorcing me?” 2 I turned my head mechanically and met William’s frosty face. He narrowed his eyes at Chloe, as if she had instigated me to divorce. “Sister-in-law,” he emphasized the two words heavily, “Arthur is on his way. You should think about how to explain this to him first.” Chloe was stunned and sat back down on the sofa to brainstorm. She had no time to attend to me, and she completely missed all the distress signals I was throwing at her. Where was our tacit understanding at the critical moment? Huh? I could only stare sheepishly at William’s well-defined side profile. Until he turned his head to look at me, his expression changing. The corners of his mouth curved up slightly, but his voice was still cold: “It’s enough for one couple in our family to divorce. They can divorce, but we won’t.” I always felt that William’s voice was like a magic potion, bewitching me to nod. I nodded obediently, and all thoughts about divorce and male models flew out the window. The roar of a sports car came from outside. As soon as I heard it, I knew that Arthur, the show-off who loved playing with cars, was home. With a sharp screech of brakes, he pushed the door open in less than a minute. He must have just rushed back from the movie set, still wearing his period costume, looking exhausted. He glanced at us and called out, “Brother, sister-in-law.” William put his arm around me, gave a faint “hmm,” and said, “Your wife is instigating my wife to divorce. You figure it out yourself.” Arthur rushed straight over to Chloe. He rubbed the space between his eyebrows, his tone impatient: “Chloe, what are you making a fuss about again? “Last time you threatened divorce because I filmed a kissing scene, and I haven’t taken any kissing scenes since then. “The time before last was because my assistant gave me a handmade cake, and I fired her immediately. “What are you dissatisfied with this time?” Chloe sneered and threw her phone at him. “Look for yourself.” I was enjoying the gossip when William grabbed me and dragged me away. “Let’s not get involved in other people’s family matters.” So we’re not part of the Sterling family? I muttered in my heart, but physically, I obediently followed him. Sitting in the passenger seat, I asked him softly: “Why is Lily White the spokesperson?” She had just returned to the country, hadn’t debuted for long, and had very few notable works. Even if there was a movie star in the family, it would be better to avoid suspicion and not use her. But considering the countless popular female stars in the entertainment industry, it logically shouldn’t be her turn in eight lifetimes. “Mia, don’t mess around with Chloe. “Lily is just a younger sister I grew up with. I don’t have any other intentions.” No other intentions? What about the group photo of the two of you I found in the drawer when we first got married? At that time, I trembled and showed the photo to Chloe. She didn’t speak, returned to her room, and took out another photo. It turned out that this photo was originally taken by three people together. Lily White stood in the middle, smiling purely and sweetly. William cropped out the part with his brother on the right. Arthur cropped out the part with his brother on the left. This level of shared wavelength proved they were definitely biological brothers. I stopped talking, turned up the car music, and stared out the window in a daze. 3 William seemed terrified that I would contact Chloe. He took me to the company and watched me every step of the way. He even shoved paper and a pen at me during meetings, making me sit behind him and doodle. I had to admit, he was incredibly handsome when he worked. His eyes, framed by gold-rimmed glasses, stared intently at the screen. When he heard key points, he would speak up at the exact right moment, hitting the nail on the head. He didn’t have much of an expression, but occasionally he’d look back at me, as if saying: Is it boring? It’s almost over. But this meeting really dragged on forever, so long that I almost fell asleep. I was used to it. After all, he was the kind of guy who would rush back to the office on our wedding anniversary because of a subordinate’s mistake. Leaving me dazed on the top floor of the hotel with fresh flowers and cake. I had to call Chloe over, otherwise, that massive bed would have gone to waste. It wasn’t until the secretary knocked on the door and announced that Ms. White was here. “We’ll stop here for today. We’ll continue with the details tomorrow.” Only Lily White could snap him out of his workaholic state. I followed behind him and saw Lily White for the first time. I had looked her up online before. She was 25, her resume was spotless, and she had zero negative press. Even the fact that she was the heiress to the White family was kept secret from the media. She was clearly well-protected by her family. She was dressed in a white dress, looking exactly the same as in that 18-year-old photo. I suddenly understood why these two brothers couldn’t let her go. That clean, pure aura of hers was something no man could resist. She called out sweetly: “William, I didn’t disturb you, did I?” She completely ignored me, probably assuming I was just a secretary who didn’t matter. William said: “No, you came just in time.” He turned and instructed the secretary to take me back to the lounge. He also made sure to tell her to order some of my favorite desserts and fruit teas. He looked like the picture of a caring husband. But this caring husband never actually looked me in the eye from beginning to end. The AC in the lounge was turned up a bit too high, and the chill seeped straight into my heart. I looked at the dozen missed calls from Chloe on my phone and dialed her back. This time, I was the one who asked first: “Chloe, are you still divorcing?” The phone was silent for a few seconds before a firm voice replied: “Divorce.” 4 Chloe and I met at a bar and drank until we were dizzy. “Mia, do you know what that dog Arthur said? “He said Lily just returned to the country and asked him to introduce some resources, so he went to meet her. “What about me? I was making a name for myself in the entertainment industry too, and my talent was no worse than Lily’s. “But what did I get by marrying him? Constraints on showing my face in public, and a man whose heart isn’t even with me.” I whispered: “But you got money…” Chloe was an extravagant spender. Thankfully, the Sterling family’s wealth could withstand her shopping sprees. Hearing this, her hazy eyes lit up. She grabbed my hand, her tone as firm as if taking an oath: “Yes! I have money! There are only two sons in the Sterling family. The two of us will split half of their family fortune. What kind of men won’t we be able to find then?” Speaking of this, she suddenly remembered something and asked: “You and William didn’t sign a prenuptial agreement, did you?” We actually did. Before the wedding, in front of a lawyer, William pulled out an agreement for me to sign. At the time, I was so mesmerized by his face and body that I signed it without even reading it. Chloe gasped in horror when she heard this: “Then we can only split a quarter of the fortune!” I asked her: “How much is a quarter?” She counted on her fingers: “We can hire ten top-tier male models a day, different ones every day, until the day we die.” Me: “Hell yes!” We happily decided that once the lawyers drafted the divorce agreements, we would officially file. While waiting for the paperwork, it happened to be our mothers-in-law’s birthday. We still had to keep up appearances, so we dressed up and attended the banquet arm-in-arm, leaving the two brothers staring at each other. In previous years, we would always link arms with our respective husbands, accompanying them as they networked and socialized. Tonight, they were left flying solo. At first, Chloe and I both thought the mother-in-law was trying to put us two unsatisfactory daughters-in-law in our place. As it turned out, she genuinely just loved Lily White. Word was she had always wanted a daughter, but ended up with two boys. The neighbors were always busy, so she practically raised Lily, treating her like a princess. Chloe couldn’t stand it anymore and tried to pull me away. But Lily intentionally glanced over and asked: “I haven’t properly met my two sisters-in-law yet. Won’t Auntie introduce us?” Great. Now we couldn’t leave. She greeted us sweetly and complimented Chloe on her beauty. Duh, Chloe is drop-dead gorgeous. If she were still acting, Lily wouldn’t even have a career. When it was my turn, Lily looked me up and down and praised me for looking like I had a healthy appetite. …Wasn’t it just because I gained a few pounds recently and looked a bit rounder standing next to Chloe? Did she really need to be so passive-aggressive? I endured it, but Chloe wasn’t about to coddle her. “It’s my first time meeting you, too. Your aura is so pure and refined, like a lotus flower growing out of the mud untouched. “Paired with this white dress, it really makes you look like the ultimate white lotus, doesn’t it?” Our mother-in-law didn’t catch the sarcasm and nodded approvingly. Lily’s face turned red, then green, like a color palette. She didn’t talk back; instead, she swiftly walked over and inserted herself between the two brothers to chat. What a picture of harmony. Chloe and I exchanged a look, our resolve to divorce solidifying even further. There were many of Arthur’s investors at the banquet. Lily wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip by, shyly following behind him to network. Chloe scanned the room and whispered to me: “That Director Wu over there? He wanted me for his movie, but I was so blindly in love that I turned it down. “And President Wang? He offered to start a talent agency for me. Even after I quit acting, he still emails me asking me to come back. “Damn it, she’s snatching up all the opportunities I left behind. If I knew today was going to happen, I would’ve stayed in the entertainment industry.” She was so angry she looked like she might explode. The final straw was when Lily, completely disregarding the public setting, brushed a fallen eyelash off Arthur’s face. Unable to hold back a night’s worth of anger, Chloe found her moment and stomped her stiletto heel hard onto the train of Lily’s gown. Lily let out a cry of alarm, and as she looked down, a large chunk of her dress tore right off. Although nothing inappropriate was exposed, ruining a gown at an event like this was deeply humiliating. Arthur rushed over and grabbed Chloe, raising his voice: “Chloe! What are you doing? Why are you trying to embarrass her?” William also walked over and said to me: “Can you lend her a dress?” This was the very first thing either of them had said to us all night. I smiled and said: “Sure, you bought them all anyway. You decide.” He looked at me with an unreadable expression, finally waving a hand to have a maid take Lily upstairs to change. Chloe grabbed me, and we fled the Sterling estate. We got into the red sports car Arthur had bought her and floored it to 120 mph. When we finally stopped, she said: “Forget waiting for the agreement. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391812”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel