Category: English

Holden made it clear he would never touch me. He also said that if I agreed to be his wife for three years, he would give me a nine-figure sum as compensation. I agreed. But after we were married, a drunk Holden crawled into my bed. His eyes were red, his voice trembling. “Delaney, I regret this. I like you. Just… kiss me, please?” 1. For two years, Holden and I had slept in separate rooms. Until last night. He got drunk at the company’s annual party and stumbled into my bedroom by mistake. He was a full head taller than me, his body a solid, heavy weight. I couldn’t move him. Left with no choice, I spent the night sharing a bed with him. When I woke up the next morning, Holden was back to his usual cool, composed self. He straightened his clothes, fastening every last button with meticulous care. Then, he turned to me and said, with the utmost seriousness, “Thank you. I apologize for intruding last night.” His tone was so polite he could have been a stranger. Not long after, an expensive pink sapphire necklace arrived—a gift, he said, to make amends. We were husband and wife, but he always treated me with this detached courtesy. Before our wedding, he’d been explicit: he wasn’t interested in women, nor did he have any inclination toward men. Our marriage was simply a shield, a way to appease his family’s demands for him to settle down and to fend off the endless stream of women who threw themselves at him. Our relationship had always been one of mutual, respectful distance. I just never expected that tonight, Holden would be in my bed again. I sighed. He was, after all, the man who paid my bills. I had to take care of him. I carefully slipped off his suit jacket. Underneath, he wore a high-quality gray shirt, the collar slightly open, revealing a stark white stretch of collarbone that contrasted sharply with the cool, handsome lines of his face. The whole look was pure, uncut temptation. I almost lost control, overcome by the urge to lean down and kiss him. But I couldn’t. Falling for your benefactor was the ultimate taboo. What a waste. A face like that, made for admiring, not for touching. Just then, Holden’s long eyelashes fluttered. My heart skipped a beat. I thought he was waking up and scrambled to pull away, but he only shifted in his sleep, turning onto his side. The movement caused the hem of his shirt to ride up, exposing the lean, powerful muscles of his back and the taut line of his waist. Almost unconsciously, my fingertips ghosted over his belt. I gave myself the perfect excuse: He can’t possibly sleep well with something so rigid digging into him, can he? My eyes fixed on the buckle. Then, my gaze drifted slowly downward. Even through the fabric of his trousers, I could still make out the shape of him. And… wow. He was impressive. I wondered what it would be like… My face flushed crimson. To stop the wicked thought from taking root, I tried to wake him. “Holden, wake up.” He didn’t stir. I leaned closer to his ear. “Holden?” I whispered. Still nothing. I took a deep breath. Well, if that’s how it was going to be… I was just going to have to take his pants off for him. The moment I slid them down, the sheer, obvious size of him left me breathless and a little weak in the knees. 2. My hands fumbled as I grabbed the duvet and threw it over him. Then I bolted into the bathroom, gasping for air. I was, after all, an adult woman with perfectly normal needs. But Holden didn’t love me. Making a move on him would only make him despise me. I remember, early in our marriage, I was full of a naive hope. I woke up early one day and made him a lavish breakfast. Holden sat at the table and told me, with polite earnestness, “Delaney, please remember that we are strangers bound by a marriage contract. Nothing more.” Then he peeled an egg and added, just as politely, “The breakfast is delicious. Thank you.” From that day on, I took the love I felt for him and shattered it, piece by piece, locking it away in the coldest, deepest part of my heart. … Suddenly, there was a knock on the bathroom door. Before I could even react, the door swung open. Holden pushed it in from the outside. I nearly jumped out of my skin, my phone almost clattering into the tub. I frantically tried to cover myself, letting out a sharp scream. “Ah! You—” Holden’s gaze froze on my naked body for a fraction of a second before he recoiled as if he’d been burned, stumbling back out of the room. “I’m sorry.” The door clicked shut. I scrambled to dry myself, my heart hammering against my ribs. Was Holden drunk or not? If he was drunk, it made sense that he’d assume this was his master bedroom and just walk in. But if he was sober… why would he knock, and then open the door without waiting? I couldn’t make sense of it. After getting dressed, I stepped out. Holden was standing right outside the door, his cool, composed face etched with apology. “I am truly sorry about that.” I looked down. “It’s fine.” I waited for him to leave. He didn’t. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his voice was a little rough when he spoke. “The lock on my bedroom door is broken. Could I… sleep in here tonight?” I nodded. The tension in Holden’s shoulders seemed to ease slightly. “Thank you,” he said, his voice laced with sincerity. … In bed, Holden lay flat on his back, perfectly still, his breathing even. He was asleep. I stared up at the ceiling, listening to the wind sighing outside, a bitter taste rising in my throat. One more year, and we would be divorced. … The night deepened. Drowsiness began to pull at me, and I was just about to drift off. Suddenly. A pair of scorching hot hands wrapped around my waist from behind. My eyes flew open. I went rigid, not daring to move a muscle. Holden had rolled over, his searing chest pressed against my back. His breathing was heavy and hot against my neck. Then, his hands began to move, sliding slowly upward, slipping with excruciating slowness beneath the hem of my nightgown… “Mm…” The touch sent an involuntary shiver through me, and a soft moan escaped my lips. Holden’s fingers flinched away as if they’d touched fire. He quickly retreated, putting a sharp distance between us. I stared at the white curtains in front of me and whispered, “Holden, are you awake?” His breathing was ragged. It took him a moment to get it under control before he answered, his voice stiff with politeness. “Apologies. I… I touched you by accident just now. I will compensate you.” Then, he got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom. 3. From the bathroom, the sound of the shower running couldn’t quite cover the choked, muffled groans. Holden was in there for a long time. So long that I was in my own kind of agony, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. I was his legal wife, yet he would rather take care of himself than come to me. Several times, I was overcome with the impulse to go knock on the door, to ask him why. But the words always died in my throat. He had told me, more than once, that we were just contract partners. He didn’t love me and would never… touch me. I refused to humiliate myself. … As the sky began to pale, I finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a heavy sleep. I dreamed. I was in a field of blooming spring flowers. Holden was no longer the aloof, untouchable man I knew. He swept my nightgown aside without a word, his warm lips trailing a path of fire down my body… The sensation was so real it made me tremble. I arched my back, cupping his face in my hands, pulling him into a searing embrace as we kissed deeply. … When I next opened my eyes, it was well past noon. The sunlight was blinding. I threw back the covers and was met with a sticky, unpleasant feeling all over my body. Blushing, I hurried to the closet, grabbed a lounge set, and went into the bathroom. As the warm water rained down, I closed my eyes, a wave of regret washing over me. Holden’s prenuptial agreement was clear: I was not allowed to fall in love with him. If I did, I would walk away with nothing. At the time, I thought I was a pragmatist, a woman who cared only for money. I thought it would be impossible to love him. But I was wrong. The more time I spent with him, the more I realized my mistake. Holden was from a distinguished family, devastatingly handsome, and treated me with the utmost respect. How could I not fall for a man like that? But falling for him was the one thing I couldn’t do. I sighed, a decision solidifying in my mind. It was better to rip the bandage off quickly. Tonight, I would ask Holden for a divorce. … My gaze drifted to the laundry basket in the corner. The hem of the nightgown inside was crumpled and… stained with something unspeakable. My eyes widened. Holden had been in the bathroom for so long last night… Could he have been using my nightgown to…? The image of his prim, proper, ascetic face flashed through my mind, contrasted with the thought of him, in secret, taking one of my personal items and doing… that. My cheeks burned, the heat spreading to the tips of my ears. A wave of shame washed over me, quickly followed by a deeper, more profound sadness. Holden was a normal man with normal needs. Yet, he was so faithful to our agreement that he refused to touch me. As I was lost in thought, my phone on the counter buzzed. It was a message from Holden. Delaney, I’ve left a gift on the living room table as an apology for my behavior last night. I hope you like it. He was always like this. Polite, courteous, distant. Suppressing the bitterness in my heart, I replied without even looking at the gift. Thank you, I love it. After my shower, I went out to the living room. As promised, a beautifully wrapped velvet box sat on the coffee table. Next to it was a black phone. I recognized it as Holden’s personal burner. He had two phones; his work phone never left his side, but he sometimes forgot this one. I walked over, intending to put it away for him. But as my finger brushed against the screen, it lit up, displaying the notes app. I had no intention of prying. But the words on the screen were a single, repeated line: I want to do it with her, I want to do it with her, I want to do it with her, I want to do it with her, I want to do it with her…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391347”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The year Carter and I were most in love, he died in a car crash. Everyone thought I would completely break down, but I didn’t cry or make a scene. Two years later, I bumped into him at a private VIP booth in a club. Carter had his arms around a young girl, kissing her passionately. His frat brothers immediately rushed over to explain: “Liv, the car crash was really bad. Carter was in a coma, and he just woke up with severe amnesia… We didn’t want you to live in constant anxiety, so we kept it a secret.” Carter pushed the girl away, walked up to me, and frowned. “I hear you’re my fiancée? Even though I don’t remember you, seeing how you clearly can’t let me go, I’ll honor my promise and marry you.” I gave a faint smile and replied, “They’re lying to you. We don’t know each other.” Carter didn’t know that on the exact day he faked his death, I received a video. In the video, Carter was laughing and telling his friends: “The thought of only sleeping with Liv for the rest of my life? I just can’t do it. “I’m going to fake my death and play the field for a few years. You guys make sure to comfort her, don’t let her do anything stupid.” He also didn’t know that during the two years he was ‘dead’… I had found myself another man. 1 Our mutual friends froze for a second before they all started trying to persuade me: “Liv, how can you say you don’t know Carter? We were the ones who hid it from you, it has nothing to do with him.” “Yeah, Liv, we did it for your own good. We didn’t want you worrying sick. Now that Carter is finally awake, please don’t throw a tantrum.” The booth was suddenly filled with people blaming me. Before I could even speak, a loud scoff cut through the noise. Carter stood up from the leather sofa, a cigarette between his fingers, looking lazy and incredibly smug. “If we don’t know each other, then forget it. Saves me the trouble of being responsible.” The young girl beside him immediately clung to his arm, looking up at him with a shy, nervous face. “Carter… I know you. She’s just ungrateful. I’ll marry you, okay?” Carter didn’t reply immediately. He just shot me a cold, dismissive glance, then wrapped his arm around the girl’s waist and leaned down to kiss her. Seeing this, his friends quickly stepped in to block my view. They tried to comfort me: “Liv, Carter has amnesia. You know he loved you the most.” “Exactly, Liv. You need to care for him more so he gets his memory back faster. Stop being so petty.” I opened my mouth, about to tell his ridiculous friends exactly what I thought of them, but a sudden, sharp cramp seized my stomach. My face instantly drained of color. I didn’t stick around. I turned on my heel and walked out of the booth. I left so quickly that no one inside even had time to react. Once I was completely out of sight, they sighed and turned to Carter. “Carter, you took it too far. Liv is genuinely jealous and furious. She turned pale. What if she really dumps you?” Carter sat back down on the sofa, a smirk playing on his lips. “Liv is easy to coax. It’s been two years, there’s no way she doesn’t miss me. “Besides, I’ve got amnesia right now. Once I’m done having fun, I’ll just tell her my memory is back and say none of this was my intention. I won’t even need to apologize. I’ll just snap my fingers, and she’ll come running.” 2 Once I was out of the club, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and crouched on the pavement. Wave after wave of cramps hit my stomach, leaving me without even the strength to walk to the restroom. Suddenly, a shadow fell over me. A familiar voice drifted down: “What, heartbroken? Hoping to rekindle an old flame?” I looked up to see Weston Cole leaning against the doorframe a few feet away, his arms crossed, watching me with a cool expression. He was dressed entirely in black. Under the dim streetlights, his high nose bridge cast a shadow that hid the emotion in his eyes. The light caught the sharp, elegant line of his thin lips. In that moment, an overwhelming wave of grievance washed over me. I felt entirely wronged. Tears, completely betraying my pride, started falling down my cheeks. Weston panicked instantly. He dropped his arms and hurried over to me. “Don’t cry. I won’t say it again.” He was incredibly fit and surprisingly strong. With one arm, he scooped me up from the ground. A crisp scent of cedarwood filled my senses, tugging at my heartstrings. I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered, “My stomach hurts…” Weston paused slightly. “Your period came early?” I nodded, my lips accidentally brushing against his jaw as I rested my head on his broad shoulder. Weston carried me to his car. After turning the heater on full blast, he said, “Wait in the car. I’m going to buy you some supplies.” He shut the door, turned, and walked away. The amber glow of the streetlights spilled over his tall, broad-shouldered silhouette. A few minutes later, a FaceTime call popped up on my screen. It was Wes. “They’re out of your usual brand. Do you see any here that work?” I was just about to point one out when a familiar, shocked voice rang out through the phone’s speaker. Carter, with his arm around the young girl’s waist, had strolled into the convenience store. He looked Weston up and down in absolute disbelief. “We invited you out for drinks tonight and you bailed. Turns out you’re in a pharmacy buying stuff for a woman? “Are you on FaceTime with her?! Let me see! Who is this absolute goddess that finally got our CEO Cole to thaw out?” Carter reached out, trying to snatch Weston’s phone. I immediately yanked my face out of the camera’s view. But Carter never got his hands on the phone. Weston merely shot him a single, freezing glare, and Carter instinctively pulled his hand back. “Alright, alright, keep your treasure hidden. Just remember to bring her out to meet us next time. “Oh, by the way, Wes, I ran into Liv. She walked into the wrong booth and caught me kissing another girl. Scared the hell out of me, but luckily the guys thought fast and said I had amnesia. I’ll play around a bit more, then ‘recover’ my memory later. “And seriously, Wes, you’re a lifesaver. I wasn’t done playing the field back then, and giving me the idea to fake my death was pure genius. Worked like a charm.” The camera shook violently for a second. The next moment, the call was disconnected. 3 Weston came back to the car ten minutes later. He didn’t dare look at me. He just handed me the bag of supplies, quickly got into the driver’s seat, and locked the doors. “I had someone deliver hot ginger tea to the house… are you… coming back with me?” There was a cautious, almost fragile edge to his voice. It honestly made me want to laugh. Weston Cole was one of the most prominent, untouchable billionaires in the city. He was also Carter’s absolute best friend. Back when I used to attend dinners with Carter, Weston was always there. He had always been incredibly cold to me. Especially whenever people teased Carter and me to show some PDA, Weston wouldn’t even spare us a glance. He looked purely disgusted and annoyed. To the point where everyone in their social circle genuinely believed he hated me. That was, until the day Carter ‘died’ in that car crash, and I received the video. It was Weston who had sent it to me. But I never would have guessed that the entire fake death scheme was Weston’s idea in the first place. This man was dangerously calculating. 4 The moment we arrived at Weston’s mansion, my feet barely touched the ground before he scooped me up into a bridal carry. After I finished up in the bathroom, he laid me down on his massive bed and handed me my phone to play games. Once I finished the ginger tea, he casually took off his shirt, lay down beside me, and began gently massaging my lower stomach. The soft ambient lighting draped over his defined abs like a thin veil. Every line seemed to hide a secret, making it impossible not to want to touch. So, I did. Weston’s eyes instantly darkened. He caught my wandering hand and pinned it down. “Behave.” I didn’t listen. He cupped the back of my head and crashed his lips down onto mine. Two years had been more than enough time for him to memorize every inch of me. In the heat of the moment, he intertwined his fingers with mine. “Help me,” he rasped, his voice rough with need. I already knew perfectly well how terrifying Weston’s stamina was—I found that out the first time I got drunk and slept with him two years ago. It wasn’t until my wrists were painfully sore that he finally finished. Just as he was about to carry me to the bathroom to clean up, the phone sitting on the edge of the mattress rang. It was Weston’s phone. As I shifted, I accidentally bumped the screen, hitting the ‘accept’ button. “Wes! I’m planning to throw a massive engagement party with Maddie, just to piss Liv off. What do you think? “Can you believe her? She finds out I’m alive, and instead of caring about my health, she just throws a jealous fit and hasn’t contacted me once! “Looks like she grew a spine over the last two years. I need to torture her a little, let her experience the pain of losing me all over again. I’m going to plan something huge, and I need you to…” Carter’s voice echoed loudly into the quiet room. But he cut off abruptly. Because I couldn’t stop a sharp gasp from escaping my lips. Not because of what Carter was saying, but because something against my thigh had definitely woken back up. It even twitched against my hand. 5 I glared at Weston, feeling equal parts annoyed and completely flushed. Carter’s voice returned through the speaker, sounding shocked. “Whoa! Wes, what are you doing right now? You have a woman in bed with you?! Tell me right now, is it the girl from the FaceTime call today?” It had been two years since we last spoke, and I had only let out a single, muffled sound. Plus, Carter had been surrounded by a revolving door of women lately, so he completely failed to recognize my voice. Weston clearly had zero intention of replying to him. His dark eyes were locked onto mine, burning with obvious intent. I shot him a warning glare, shoved myself out of his arms, and tried to crawl toward the far side of the massive bed. But before I could even make it one foot, Weston wrapped his hand around my ankle and dragged me right back under him. Carter kept talking: “Bro, you absolutely have to bring her out so I can see what kind of goddess finally made the iron tree bloom! And since you’re finally in the game, you can’t reject the girls I introduce to you anymore! “Oh, right, the engagement party. I was going to ask you to invite Liv for me, but since I know you’ve always hated her…” Before Carter could finish his sentence, Weston impatiently hit the end call button. He tossed the phone onto the mattress, effortlessly scooped me up with one arm, and carried me toward the bathroom. By the time we emerged, it was three hours later. Weston looked thoroughly satisfied. I glared at him, collapsing onto the pillows, completely refusing to speak to him. I grabbed my own phone and saw a new text. It was from one of Carter’s frat brothers. Two years ago, Carter had integrated me into all of his social circles. [Liv, Carter is actually getting engaged to another girl in seven days. You need to come stop him! I don’t want him doing something he’ll regret when he finally gets his memory back!] I glanced at the message, swiped left, and deleted it. I wasn’t the type of person who had nothing better to do than invite drama into my life. Who cared if Carter got engaged? Weston reached out, trying to pull me back into his chest. I shot him a death glare and quickly scooted to the very edge of the mattress. I absolutely was not going for another three-hour marathon.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391364”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Everyone said Arthur Vance was aloof and untouchable, but he chased me like a dog for ten years. Even when I was pushed into a roaring fire, he didn’t hesitate to throw away his billion-dollar empire to follow me into the flames. Given a second chance at life, I decided I wouldn’t be the wicked woman who kept him dangling anymore; I would treat him with my whole heart. Unfortunately, it seemed he had been reborn too. “Elena, did you really think you could train me like a dog again this time around? Hmm?” He cornered me, forcing me to sign the divorce papers. He said he would absolutely never want me in this life. Absolutely never. 1 When I was eleven, someone deliberately broke five of my fingers. From that moment on, I swore I would climb to the absolute top of this world. No matter what it took. By any means necessary. Later, I did a lot of terrible things. Eventually, someone took revenge and pushed me into a raging fire. As the flames swallowed me, my mind was blank. But then, a figure in white burst into my vision and held me tight. It was Arthur, my husband. The man who loved me to death, the man whose only flaw in his entire flawless life was me. As we turned to ash together, I thought: If there’s a next life, I swear to god, I will give him my whole heart. 2 “These are the divorce papers.” “Sign them.” The flickering lights made my thoughts scatter. The man standing opposite me lowered his eyes. Hiding the ice within them. “Arthur.” “Don’t do this.” I tried to grab his hand. His veins pulsed as he quickly pulled it away. It had been one hour and forty-one minutes since my rebirth. Suddenly, I felt a strange sense of relief. Arthur had finally realized I was a terrible woman who only wanted his money and toyed with his feelings. He didn’t want me anymore. 3 I sat in a bakery, looking through the thin glass. Watching two figures wandering around the academic building across the street. Arthur definitely didn’t know I was secretly watching him. Watching him explain a problem to that girl, while she practically rubbed against his shirt. Yes, in this life, Arthur finally knew who was truly kind and innocent. But resting my chin on my hand, I still texted her. “Chloe, why are you trying to seduce your brother-in-law?” 4 Chloe Miller was my sister. To be precise, she was the real heiress; I was the fake one. When I was twelve, Mrs. Miller picked me up on a night of torrential rain. Everyone thought it was a coincidence. It wasn’t. To make sure Mrs. Miller found me looking pitiful in that rainstorm, I purposely broke my own leg. I wanted wealth, I wanted power, I wanted to never taste that bone-deep humiliation ever again. And Chloe? She was found and brought back to the Miller family when she was sixteen. She was forever kind, innocent, and pure. The things I had to shatter my bones to get, she received without doing a single thing. I hated her. I hated that she never had to fall into the mud to taste real suffering. 5 I was just that kind of vicious, wicked woman. That’s why I suffered so much in my past life. Perhaps Chloe really was what everyone called her: A “girl like a deity.” And I had angered the deity. So in this life, the only person who ever loved me had abandoned me too. I curled up on the sofa, staring at the divorce papers on the coffee table. “Arthur, are you coming home tonight?” The message sat in my phone; it had been four full hours without a reply. Arthur was naturally aloof. His friends always joked he was a block of ice. But in my past life, I never felt that way. I thought he was my dog. He’d come running as soon as he caught my scent, always nuzzling me, wanting to hold my hand if it was free. Forget ignoring my texts; if I sent one word, he’d reply with ten lines of nagging concern. But now… A notification popped up. Thinking it was him, I hurriedly checked it. It wasn’t him. It was Chloe, with a text and a photo attached. “Sister, I have no intention of seducing my brother-in-law.” “I want to help manage Dad’s business, so Arthur is just introducing me to some people.” In the photo, she was smiling sweetly, standing right next to him. They looked like the perfect couple. 6 I must have called Arthur a dozen times. He didn’t answer a single one, and eventually just blocked me. Truth be told, Arthur was terrible at networking and office politics; he was just an academic. In my past life, to snatch some market share from Chloe in my dad’s company, I made him woo executives from various pharmaceutical companies. He went and did it without a single complaint. I never considered how a prestigious university professor, someone so proud, managed to bow his head and beg those people for favors. I only remembered one incident from my past life. I had secured a deal, gotten drunk, and called him to pick me up. The private room was full of prominent figures. Leaning against the sofa, watching that pale figure approach me step by step, I called out, “Here boy…” Calling him over like a dog. A highly respected medical professor, a man who never lowered his chin for anyone. To be teased and humiliated by me like that in public… the old me must have felt so smug. …Everyone thought he would storm out. But what did Arthur do? He walked right up to me. Then, with complete naturalness, he squatted down and grasped my ankle. He slipped my high heel back on. He looked up, his brow bone looking like a gentle mural. “It’s getting cold. Don’t catch a chill.” “Elena.” 7 Elena. He loved calling me that. But since our rebirth, he hadn’t used that name once. … I’m a light sleeper, so I woke up when he came home. I lay there, wondering what he’d do seeing me completely defenseless. But he did nothing. He walked right past me, not even willing to drape a blanket over me. I sat up and hurled the divorce papers at his back. The man paused, the lines of his back distractingly attractive. “Don’t rip them.” “If I have to draft a new one, you won’t be getting nearly as much.” In the pale moonlight, I sat there watching him speak so calmly. A dark cloud seemed to hide in his pupils, mixing with an obscure, icy detachment. “I won’t sign.” I stared dead at him. He seemed to expect this, nodding. “Fine. Then we’ll go to court.” “Arthur, you bastard.” I lunged at him, but he easily pinned me down. The crescent moon cast a sliver of light as he held me against the sofa. His hand gripped my neck, not gentle at all. I bit the webbing between his thumb and index finger, but he didn’t seem to feel the pain. Then, suddenly, he let go. A gentle touch brushed my cheek. “So you cry too.” He left me with that cold, cryptic sentence. Leaving me alone in the living room, I pressed my hands hard against my eyes. As if that would stop the tears from spilling over. “Don’t leave me.” I had sworn when I was ten years old. That I would never say those words again. 8 I refused to sign the divorce papers. The very next day, Arthur pulled out of every collaboration related to me. A significant portion of the Vance family’s assets was in the medical industry, and he was a top-tier scholar in the field. I admit, in my past life, I only married him because it was profitable. I knew he didn’t want me anymore. But when I learned he had transferred all those projects to work with Chloe instead, my heart still gave a sudden, dull ache. Yet, I felt this was how it should be. He saw clearly in his past life. Chloe was so pure and clean. Unlike me. I was used to using filthy methods to get what I wanted. But his withdrawal from our collaborations set off alarm bells for our peers. Instantly, I found myself isolated and helpless. … I prepared to suck up to Arthur again. “Arthur, are you at the university?” “I made some lunch, should I bring it over?” I didn’t dare hope he still had feelings for me, but I really hoped he’d remember our history and not cut me off completely. Staring at my silent phone, I felt utterly shameless. We had fought so badly yesterday, but when it came to business, I still had to beg. I decided to cook some nice dishes and deliver them personally. Then I realized a problem. I had no idea what Arthur liked to eat. He, on the other hand, probably had my likes and dislikes memorized backward and forward. After all, Professor Vance’s biggest obsession in our past life was feeding me all sorts of delicious food. I wasn’t actually that delicate, but I loved throwing tantrums in front of him. “Arthur, these noodles are too hard.” “Arthur, who are you feeding these mushy noodles to?” “Arthur, I don’t like spicy food.” “Arthur, since when do you cook so blandly?” He only got genuinely angry with me once. His ink-dark eyes stared at me, his tone cold and serious. “Elena, do you think I’ll always be on your side?” I looked down, admiring my manicure, and told him: “Then get lost.” That was my answer. And he really did get lost. It was freezing outside, and he left without a coat. He must have been furious. I probably texted him around dusk. “Arthur, I miss you.” Within fifteen minutes, the front door opened. He pulled me into a sudden, tight embrace, bringing the sharp winter chill indoors with him. His high nose bridge pressed against my neck, and I heard him say: “Yes, I will always be on your side.” …See? For the old me, training Professor Vance was easier than training a dog. … After cutting my finger for the third time, watching the unidentified bubbling mass in the pot, I finally snapped out of my memories. I realized I possessed exactly zero culinary talent. So, I ordered takeout from the Linchuan Pavilion. And transferred it into my own thermos. Anyway… he probably couldn’t tell the difference between home-cooked and restaurant food. …Probably. 9 “I’m sorry, Sister.” “I didn’t know you brought lunch for Professor Vance too.” “He’s already eating the food I made…” Chloe stood blocking my path, looking visibly flustered and helpless. “Call him brother-in-law.” I gave her a sharp smile, noticing her small hands tighten inside her cuffs. … “Arthur.” I stood in front of the man who was eating with his head down. When he ignored me, I snatched the chopsticks from his hand. I swapped his lunchbox for mine. He stared down at the new dishes for a moment. His deep, dark eyes finally focused on me. “Look.” I held up my bandaged hand to him. “To cook for you, I cut myself three times.” “It took me forever. Please eat mine?” I met his gaze, looking very calm. But it was a calm that looked like it was about to shatter. Finally, he sighed. “Elena. These dishes look exactly like the ones from Linchuan Pavilion.” “Did you steal their recipes?” “…” I pretended not to hear the mockery in his voice. I decided to just go for broke. “Arthur, just tell me if you’re going to eat it or not!” It seemed that so many times before, if I got angry, he would soften and coax me. I was so used to it, I forgot this wasn’t the him and me from our past life. But he still lowered his head and, spoonful by spoonful, finished the seafood congee I brought. He was so obedient, just like the Arthur from our past life who did whatever I told him to. When he finished, he watched me bend down to clean up the lunchbox—something I’d never done before. “Elena.” He called my name, his voice like a clear stream. “I’m allergic to seafood.” “Two lifetimes, and you still can’t remember.” I flinched violently and looked up at him. His wrist, usually pale enough to see the veins, was already breaking out in red hives. He just showed it to me. “Will you only be happy when you’ve tortured me to death?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391381”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My wife, the woman who made me swear we’d never have children, asked the police to mediate a domestic dispute. I filed for divorce the moment I walked through the door. Five years. That’s how long I’d been deployed on a joint task force at the border, living in the dust and the heat. My first day back in Boston, badge freshly clipped to my belt as a detective, and I catch a dispatch call: a domestic disturbance in the Beacon Hill district. My partner, a jaded veteran named Miller, didn’t even look up from the wheel. “It’s the St. James residence. Margot St. James. Every month, like clockwork, she gets into a screaming match with her husband over the kid. But don’t worry, it’s just theater. By the time we leave, we’ll be watching them make out.” Miller chuckled, shaking his head. “Everyone in the precinct knows the drill. The Ice Queen of Boston is a paper tiger when it comes to her man. She folds every time. It’s pathetic, really.” 1. Margot? I assumed it was a coincidence. A common enough name in these circles. After all, I had been married to Margot for ten years. Our entire marriage was built on a foundation of ironclad agreements, the strongest being that we were “child-free by choice.” She refused to be a mother. But when we walked into the drawing room of that brownstone, the air left my lungs. There was my wife. She was perched on the lap of a stranger, her fingers tangled in his hair, whispering apologies against his lips between soft, lingering kisses. I stood there, frozen. The shock wasn’t just physical; it was a complete dismantling of my reality. This was the woman who walked through life with her chin high, the woman who never apologized to anyone, least of all me. And here she was, submissive and pleading. Then, I saw the movement in the periphery. A little boy, maybe four or five years old, ran past the sofa. He had her eyes. He had her chin. It wasn’t that she didn’t want children. She just didn’t want my children. Miller nudged me hard in the ribs, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Careful, rookie. Margot St. James basically funded the new precinct gym. If you want to survive in this town, you kiss the ring. Or in this case, just nod and smile.” … I couldn’t move. My blood felt like sludge in my veins, heavy and cold. So, this was the truth. My wife wasn’t just a successful CEO; she was the heiress to the St. James empire. And in the five years I was bleeding for my country, she had built a secret life. A backup life. Margot looked up. When her eyes locked onto mine, the flush of passion drained from her face instantly, leaving her pale as a ghost. The man on the sofa reached up, wiping a smudge of lipstick from her mouth with his thumb. He turned to me, his smile practiced and predatory. “Chief Russo mentioned we were getting some new blood. You must be Officer… Roman?” He stood up, smoothing his cashmere sweater, and pulled Margot possessively into his side. “Sorry for the drama. We’re passionate people. I’m Felix. This is my wife, Margot, and our son, Leo.” My wife, Margot. Our son, Leo. The words were like shrapnel. They embedded themselves in my chest, festering immediately. I looked at him. His tone was polite, the kind of polished etiquette money buys, but his eyes were screaming victory. He knew who I was. This wasn’t an introduction; it was a taunt. Seeing the three of them—a perfect, catalogue-ready family—tore me apart. In my mind, Margot was the fierce, independent partner who matched my soul. I loved her with a desperate, quiet intensity. I remembered the night her best friend nearly died in childbirth. Margot had shaken in my arms for hours, terrified. She developed a phobia so severe she couldn’t be near pregnant women. I wanted to protect her. I promised her a life of just us. I went to the clinic. I got the vasectomy. I took that burden so she would never have to be afraid. “Look at us, Roman,” she used to say, tracing my jawline in the dark. “We’re free. No chains. Just you and me against the world.” But the woman who preached freedom, who claimed to despise the “shackles of parenthood,” had used my deployment to play house with another man. No wonder she never visited. No wonder the letters stopped. It hit me then—my sudden, extended deployment order five years ago. It wasn’t bad luck. It was her influence. She needed me gone so she could carry Felix’s child without interference. I stood there, the betrayal making it hard to breathe. “Well?” Margot’s voice was sharp now, the softness gone. “Are you going to do your job, or just stare? Is this the level of professionalism the police force offers these days?” She didn’t acknowledge me. She didn’t acknowledge us. Miller hissed in my ear. “Say something, man. Don’t piss off the donor.” “Mr… Felix,” I managed to grind out. “I heard you’ve been married a decade, Officer,” Felix said, leaning back against the mantle. “I actually asked your Captain to send you specifically. I thought, who better to give us some advice on marital longevity?” It was a setup. A game. When I didn’t answer, he twisted the knife. “Although, I am curious. Ten years and no kids? Is it a plumbing issue?” He laughed, a low, cruel sound. “I could give you some pointers. Leo here? One try. That’s all it took.” “Felix, don’t be crude with the help,” Margot chided, though her cheeks flushed pink. His words were branding irons on my pride. I clenched my fists so hard my nails cut into my palms. Felix laughed again, adjusting the cuff of his shirt. “Just trying to help the guy out.” My eyes caught the glint of metal on his wrist. I froze. That wasn’t just a watch. It was a vintage Omega, scratched on the bezel. My father’s watch. The one I gave to Margot for safekeeping before I deployed, terrified I’d lose it in the field. She gave my dead father’s watch to her lover. Something inside me snapped. The leash of discipline I’d worn for five years broke. I lunged, grabbing his wrist. “Take it off! Give me the goddamn watch!” CRASH. Pain exploded in my forehead. Glass rained down on my shoulders. Margot stood over me, a heavy crystal ashtray in her hand, her chest heaving. “Are you insane?” she screamed. Blood trickled into my eye, hot and blinding, but it hurt less than the look on her face. Felix took the opportunity to kick me hard in the stomach. I stumbled, winded, and went down. He stepped on my hand—my shooting hand—and ground his heel into the knuckles. “My wife gave me this,” Felix sneered. “Finders keepers, trash.” Margot stood there, imperious and cold. “Apologize to my husband, or I swear to God…” I spat blood onto the expensive rug. “Or what, Margot? You’ll ship me off to the border for another five years?” Her eyes widened, a flicker of panic breaking her composure. “You’re a nobody,” Felix laughed, applying more pressure to my hand. “We could bury you, and no one would even ask where the dirt came from.” He snapped his fingers. Two private security guards materialized from the hallway, dragging me toward the door. I was thrown onto the sidewalk like a bag of garbage. Miller, terrified of the fallout, had already driven off. My phone buzzed. It was Captain Russo. “You offended Ms. St. James? Are you out of your mind? Don’t bother coming in tomorrow!” I hung up, my hand shaking with rage and adrenaline. If that was the game they were playing, I was done with the rules. 2 I sat on the curb, wiping the blood from my brow, when the front door opened again. Margot walked out. She didn’t look worried; she looked annoyed, like I was a stain on her driveway she needed to scrub out. “Roman, look. Not telling you was… an oversight,” she said, crossing her arms. “An oversight?” I laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. “I haven’t even had a chance to congratulate you, Mrs. St. James. Or is it Mrs. Felix now?” Her expression hardened. “Stop being dramatic. Your mother had a second family, didn’t she? Your dad sucked it up for your sake. Why can’t you have the same grace?” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a reasonable, almost business-like tone. “Felix and I… it was an accident. But his family needs an heir. I couldn’t deny him that. Leo can call you ‘Dad’ too, if you want. He’ll take care of us when we’re old.” “So, I’m supposed to just accept this? Share you?” “Stop acting like a jealous woman, Roman. It’s unbecoming.” My crushed fingers throbbed, but the pain in my chest was worse. I tasted copper in my mouth. She knew—she knew—that my father died of a heart attack the day he found out about my mom’s affair. She was using my deepest trauma as a bargaining chip. “You were gone for months at a time,” she continued, gaining momentum. “Always talking about training, missions. You came home smelling like sweat and gun oil. What woman wants that?” She paused, delivering the final blow with surgical precision. “I told you I wanted to be ‘child-free’ because the thought of you touching me made my skin crawl. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” The silence that followed was deafening. For ten years, I lived like a monk for her. I climbed the ranks for her. I pretended to be rich when we met because she said she liked ambitious men, then found out she was the rich one, and I stayed humble. “You were disgusted by me,” I whispered. “Margot, I worshipped the ground you walked on.” “Oh, grow up,” she snapped, checking her watch—a delicate Cartier, not the stolen Omega. “Apologize to Felix. Immediately. I can get your job back with one phone call. You want to be a Captain, right? I can make that happen. In my heart, you’re still my legal husband. Felix is just… necessary. He won’t threaten your status.” My status. She thought I wanted a promotion? I wanted to give her a good life. “No,” I said. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the house. “Fine. Sulk. Come back when you’re ready to be an adult.” I limped back to our old apartment—the one I paid for. The key didn’t work. I called a locksmith. When the door finally swung open, I wish it hadn’t. My sanctuary, the 900-square-foot apartment where we’d spent our first years, was unrecognizable. It was filled with histhings. I walked into the master bedroom. My side of the closet was empty. My clothes, my uniforms, my gear—gone. Replaced by rows of garish designer suits that reeked of Felix’s cologne. The doorbell rang. It was Margot’s personal assistant, a man named Lee. He looked at me with open disdain. “We got a call from building management about a break-in,” Lee sneered. “You’ve got some nerve, breaking into private property.” “Private property?” I laughed, feeling the edge of hysteria. “The deed has my name on it, Lee.” Lee pulled out his tablet and held it up. A digital copy of the deed. Owner: Felix Henderson. “Mr. Henderson owns this unit,” Lee said, looking down his nose at me. “You’re just a squatter. Get out before I call the cops. The real cops.” The grief finally hit me then, a tidal wave of black water. But I refused to cry. Not in front of them. “Tell her,” I said, my voice shaking with suppressed rage, “that I don’t want the apartment. I don’t want the money. I want a divorce.” 3 I didn’t sleep. I sat in a 24-hour diner, drafting the divorce agreement on a napkin before taking it to a lawyer at dawn. By noon, I had the papers. I handed them to Lee and walked away. But my feet betrayed me. I found myself walking back toward the St. James mansion. I needed… I don’t know what I needed. Closure? To see it one last time? I stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the second-floor window. Through the sheer curtains, I saw them. Margot and Felix. They weren’t fighting. They were entangled. I turned to leave, stomach churning, but Felix saw me. He locked eyes with me through the glass and deliberately pulled her closer, his movements aggressive, performative. Margot let out a sound that carried through the open window. I looked down. The boy, Leo, was standing at the gate, pointing a toy gun at me. “Go away, beggar!” the kid shouted. “My daddy said you’re a beggar!” The window slid open. Felix leaned out, shirtless, looking like a king addressing a peasant. “Back for more, Officer? Ready to apologize?” Margot appeared behind him, wrapping a silk robe around herself. “Roman? Jesus, look at you. You look like a homeless person. You’re scaring my son.” Scaring her son. I had scars on my face from windburn and shrapnel, earned keeping people like them safe. To her, I was just ugly. “Did you sign the papers?” I asked, my voice flat. “What papers?” Margot frowned. Leo started crying, loud and fake. Margot’s attention snapped to the boy. “We’ll talk later. Just go.” Felix smirked. Once Margot moved away to comfort the kid, he disappeared from the window. A minute later, the front door cracked open. Felix tossed a manila envelope onto the wet pavement. “She signed it ages ago,” he laughed. “Just needed a reason to give it to you. Good riddance.” I picked up the muddy envelope. I didn’t check it. I just wanted out. I called my old commanding officer, requested a transfer back to the unit, and headed straight for Logan Airport. I thought I was free. I was wrong. I was at the gate, ticket in hand, when a heavy purse slammed into the back of my head. “Roman! You sick bastard!” I spun around. Margot was there, eyes wild, chest heaving. “Where is he?” she screamed, clawing at my jacket. “Where is my son? What did you do with Leo?” “What are you talking about?” “Don’t play dumb! The kidnapping happened an hour after you left! The security feed shows a man who looks exactly like you taking him!” Two of her bodyguards grabbed my arms. “I didn’t touch your kid,” I said, struggling. Felix came running up, panting, and threw himself at my feet. “Roman, please! Take anything! Take the money, take the house! Just give me back my boy!” Margot pulled Felix up, glaring at me with pure hatred. “You’re a monster. I never thought you’d stoop this low.” She slapped me. Hard. “I am a soldier,” I roared, the anger finally breaking through. “I have never dishonored my uniform! I didn’t take your son. If someone who looks like me took him, ask your boyfriend why he owns a wig!” Margot didn’t listen. She nodded to the guards. “Bring him.” They dragged me to a waiting SUV. They took me to a warehouse near the docks—one of the St. James shipping properties. They didn’t call the police. They tied my hands to a ceiling beam. One of the guards stepped forward with a heavy rubber hose. “Tell us where the boy is,” Margot said, her voice trembling. The first strike hit my ribs like a sledgehammer. “I don’t know!” I gasped. They beat me for what felt like hours. Ribs cracked. Skin split. I hung there, a piece of meat, barely conscious. “Ninety-nine,” the guard counted, breathless. I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. Just as the darkness was about to swallow me completely, the warehouse doors exploded inward. “FBI! DOWN! GET ON THE GROUND!” Through the haze, I saw a familiar figure. Broad shoulders. Tactical gear. Gunner. My sniper. He saw me hanging there, dripping blood, and let out a roar that shook the walls. “Margot St. James!” Gunner screamed, leveling his rifle at her. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391398”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Steve was the imposter. After the true heir’s return, he was cast out, left destitute and disgraced. It was then that he and I began our clandestine affair. I, touched by his plight, offered him considerable care and support. Who would have thought that as soon as he found his footing in Port Royale, he would sever ties with me, clinging instead to the wealthy heiress? “It’s over, Eleanor. You’re older than me, and your career is stagnant. Let’s just call it quits and part ways amicably.” I had no objections, a sigh of relief escaping my lips. After all, just yesterday, the Patton family had inquired if I would consider an alliance with their true heir. At the time, I’d been racking my brain for a graceful way to dump Steve. 1. Faced with such a convenient breakup, I certainly wouldn’t refuse. My gaze lingered for a moment on Steve’s tightly clenched jawline before shifting to the dainty girl beside him. “Thank you, Eleanor, for all these years of looking after Steve… I hope my sudden visit isn’t too much of an intrusion.” The hand holding my wine glass slowly lowered to rest beside my right thigh. The girl opposite me looked very young, with platinum blonde hair, clutching a designer cloud bag. “Not at all. A few of us ladies were just having dinner together. Feel free to join us.” I offered the polite response without a flicker of emotion. My friend beside me, however, couldn’t sit still. She leaned in and whispered, “What are you doing, Eleanor? She just stole your boyfriend, and you’re being nice to her?” I simply smiled, giving her a reassuring yet indifferent look. Then, the girl’s voice drifted over again. “Oh, that won’t be necessary. My main reason for coming was to explain to you, miss. You might not know Steve’s background, but he was originally the eldest son of the Patton family. Something happened, and he was cast out, forced to associate with… well, with descendants of nouveau riche families like yours.” “So…?” “So, Steve choosing me means he’s returning to his rightful place. I hope you don’t think he’s betrayed you, and please, don’t try to cling to him.” A strange, awkward tension filled the air. A few people almost snorted with laughter. Only after I cleared my throat did silence return. I placed my wine glass on the table and addressed the girl. “Whether he betrayed me or not, I can distinguish. Also, what’s your name?” “Me? Oh… it’s fine if you know. It’s Iris Vance.” At her reply, the scorn in my eyes deepened. So, it was the Vance family. Last month, her father had hosted a dinner, inviting my mother and me, hoping to secure the Azure City project in the Northern District. A dog begging for scraps from our family, yet so eager to strut and preen in public. “Alright, I understand. If there’s nothing else to say, then please leave.” With my dismissal, Iris snorted, picked up her bag, and strode out of the private room, her high heels clicking. Steve, dressed in a grey shirt, followed behind her. He hadn’t uttered a single word, as if still grappling with my casual acceptance of the breakup and his betrayal. I gazed at that face, a face I’d found so incredibly appealing, and offered a final, knowing smile. 2. “Eleanor, what’s going on? You’re really just going to let that slide?” My friends huddled around me, buzzing with gossip. “That’s just the younger Miss Vance, recently back from abroad. Her family hasn’t really made any headway over the years, but she certainly puts on airs.” “Eleanor, you’re just too modest. If they truly knew who you were, they wouldn’t have dared to utter a peep…” I stared at the deep red liquid shimmering in my wine glass, a faint smile playing on my lips. I shook my head nonchalantly. “You all know Steve and I were just a casual fling. If they knew too much, it would be harder for me to disengage.” So, in Steve’s eyes all these years, my friends and I were merely idle descendants of parvenus. And he, the supposed false heir of a prominent family, was scorned by the entire social circle after being repeatedly ousted from the Patton family for his jealousy of the true heir, Evan Patton. I hadn’t even known of his existence until a particular night. It was at a cocktail party, and I’d noticed him being ridiculed by those trying to curry favor. That day, he wore a custom-tailored suit that was still somewhat presentable, but his cool brown hair was drenched in spilled wine. Distinguished men and women, dressed in opulent attire, stood before him, their mocking voices drifting to the next booth: “Steve, why don’t you just become a male model? Even if your background is utterly lowly, that face of yours is passable. Maybe some wealthy older woman with specific tastes would take you on…” “Hahahaha, seriously, I think Steve appeals more to men. How about going out with some guys? Steve, if you’re desperate for cash, I can introduce you right now!” As the words fell, the slightly overweight man with glasses reached for his wine glass, poised to douse him again. “Enough.” I happened to be in a bad mood that day, finding their clamor too irritating. I turned and called out softly to their table. My gaze then drifted down to Steve’s almost perfect profile, a flicker of admiration in my eyes. “Who are you?!” the slightly chubby man asked, clearly annoyed at the interruption. I averted my gaze. Walking over, I bent down and gently took Steve’s hand, intending to lead him away. He was so thin then, like a delicate puppet devoid of a soul. “Did I say you could leave?” Many people crowded around. The Thorne family had kept an extremely low profile in Port Royale over the years. Many knew the Thornes were a deeply established noble family, yet few had ever seen the Thorne heiress. So, naturally, they didn’t recognize me. I glanced at the few people in front, sighing. “Alright, speak. What will it take for me to take him away?” “Oh, you’re an unfamiliar face, miss. Quite the act.” The young woman next to the slightly chubby man giggled. “How about this, Mr. Davies? Let her pay our tab, then we’ll let them go.” Mr. Davies wore a sinister smile. He then called over a familiar face from the bar. The middle-aged man turned to me. “Beautiful, come settle the bill here.” In the end, under the incredulous stares of everyone present, I paid five hundred and ten thousand dollars to take Steve away. From then on, we knew each other, though he only knew the fabricated identity of a nouveau riche single daughter that I’d spun for him. I knew his reputation was poor—arrogant, materialistic, and cold-blooded. After the Patton family found their true heir, he had repeatedly caused trouble for him. Yes, Steve was truly despicable, but I couldn’t deny that he was incredibly handsome, his physique perfectly to my taste. The first time I saw him, pale and fragile, his hair wet with wine, I was momentarily lost in his exquisite brokenness. So, I offered him a hundred thousand a month to be my kept man. This illicit arrangement, mutually beneficial, brought me two years of enjoyment. He was mostly compliant, and I covertly supported his career without his knowledge. However, last week, my mother informed me that the Patton family wished to arrange a marriage with me. My heart gave a sudden jolt. The proposed groom, of course, was not Steve, the imposter, but Evan Patton, the true heir. My thoughts drifted back to the private room. Facing my friends’ questions, I let out a soft sigh of relief and confessed. “I originally arranged this gathering hoping you’d help me find an excuse to break up with Steve. But it seems I don’t need to anymore.” “Oh, what a coincidence! Just as Steve and Iris got together…” “Yes.” “Eleanor, that’s great! With your kind of arrangement with Steve, if you had initiated the breakup, he would have demanded a huge severance package…” My friend was right. With Steve and my financial relationship, a breakup would undoubtedly cost me. I had already mentally prepared to give him the limited edition supercar and the riverside penthouse he’d coveted for so long. His infidelity, however, saved me a hefty sum. “But Eleanor, why did you suddenly want to break up? Wasn’t Steve exactly your type?” I pondered for a moment, deciding a small disclosure wouldn’t hurt. “Because I’m getting married.” “What?! Whose family? From Port Royale, or out of town?” I didn’t elaborate, merely stating, “You’ll all know soon enough.” 3. Despite the impending engagement to Evan Patton, the true heir, I hadn’t even met him yet. On my way to meet him, I happened upon my mother having afternoon tea on the ground floor. “How is Evan?” I asked. My mother set down her teacup and slowly looked up at me. “Don’t worry. He’s no less impressive than your previous acquaintance.” Her words sent a chill down my spine. Sure enough, my little secrets hadn’t escaped my mother’s notice. Fortunately, I had been diligent in my work all these years, so she had always pretended not to know. 4. We arranged to meet at an upscale French restaurant. At this hour, it wasn’t crowded. When I arrived precisely on time and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, my date was already seated there, gazing out, lost in thought. “Hello, Mr. Patton?” He turned. His deep-set eyes held a serene, distant quality, and his amber pupils reflected my somewhat hesitant smile. In the past two years, I had heard rumors about this true heir. They said Evan Patton was exceptionally intelligent, possessing unique insights into emerging trends, and had quickly taken over most of the Patton family’s businesses. However, he was also described as eccentric and aloof, perhaps scarred by his childhood experiences. It was strange, but he did bear a slight resemblance to Steve, though Steve’s refinement was born of lavish indulgence, while Evan’s was an almost ethereal elegance. “Yes. Miss Thorne, please have a seat.” His voice was both magnetic and clear, much like the overall impression he gave me – contradictory yet mysterious. We chatted for a long time, from adolescent anecdotes to travel experiences. It was then I learned that Evan hadn’t lived a difficult life before being recognized by the Patton family. He had always been raised in an intellectual household, with both parents as university professors at renowned institutions. At this point in the conversation, I didn’t inquire why he chose to return to the Patton family. Yet, sensing my hesitation, he abruptly changed the subject. “Miss Thorne, both our parents have agreed to this alliance, but you understand that, in essence…” “It’s an exchange and merger of interests. We probably don’t have the power to refuse.” I sat there, stunned. A sliver of sunset from the window fell near my eyes, but I didn’t look at it. I calmly replied, “And then what?” “So, my lawyer will contact yours to discuss the prenuptial agreement. And the division of assets under various circumstances after marriage, especially…” “What?” His amber eyes held a searching quality, a look I had seen many times at negotiation tables. It no longer surprised me. Sure enough, in the next second, he laid out his terms. “Miss Thorne, since we’re speaking frankly, I won’t hide it. I already know about your previous relationship with Steve.” I raised an eyebrow. If he had bothered to investigate Steve’s whereabouts over the past two years, he would have easily found out. So, I wasn’t surprised. “But that was your personal life before marriage, no right or wrong there. However, I need to secure my marriage. If either of us commits infidelity after marriage, they automatically forfeit all marital assets.” At his words, I smoothed my curled hair beside my ear, my expression now completely devoid of warmth. The day I was born into the Thorne family, I severed ties with any notion of innocence. I knew my marriage would inevitably be a tool, but I hadn’t expected everything to be laid bare. After all, leaving some room for pretense, my so-called husband and I could occasionally enjoy the illusion of intimacy. But clearly, the man before me didn’t think that way. His words even carried a hint of judgment about my private life. “Before we’re even married, you’re telling me you have no trust in me, Mr. Patton?” “Trust is too ephemeral a word. I prefer it in black and white.” My last hint of a smile vanished. “Fine. I agree.” With that, I picked up my bag, ready to leave the restaurant. There seemed no point in further small talk. But at that moment, the man spoke. “On the day of the engagement, I plan to invite my… formerly wayward brother. You don’t mind, do you, Eleanor Thorne?” He was, of course, referring to Steve. I figured the man was probably busy buttering up the Vance family at that moment. “As you wish.” My gaze returned, my voice cold. 5. The entire drive home, I was distracted. It wasn’t until I pulled into our family garage that the chill in the air brought my thoughts back. Going upstairs, I found Mother still on the sofa, engrossed in some documents. Seeing me return, she cast a fleeting glance. “The Patton family has sent over the detailed prenuptial agreement. You should take a look too.” I let out a dull sigh. “You just look at it.” Mother’s hand, holding the folder, paused. “What’s wrong? Come sit here.” I never defied Mother’s commands. After two seconds of hesitation, I walked over to sit beside her. Beneath the prenuptial agreement, there was also a collaboration proposal concerning an AI model in the information technology sector. “I’ve generally reviewed it; no issues. You go through it too.” I nodded, lowering my gaze to read. The moment I closed the folder, I couldn’t help but look despondently at the elegantly dressed woman beside me. She was actually very well-preserved, with few wrinkles at fifty, looking closer to her thirties. “Mom,” I began, “do I truly not even have a moment’s reprieve?” That post-nuptial agreement, just one clause, stipulated that my marriage to Evan Patton would be devoid of emotion, allowing for no buffer. Yet, many marriages in our circle, even without emotion, allowed for separate lives. This felt like a declaration that I was entering a cold, freedomless tomb. “Eleanor, you’ve had your fun all these years. It’s enough.” “But… never mind.” The words caught in my throat. I had wanted to ask Mother, even if I knew I had no choice, couldn’t she avoid stripping away reality so starkly and repeatedly declaring that my future would be bleak? But if I had asked, I knew I wouldn’t be understood. Mother would only find me naive and foolish. “This alliance with the Patton family is because times are changing too rapidly. Our Thorne family, though having significant influence in traditional industries, hasn’t fully entered the new sectors, and most of that in Port Royale is controlled by the Pattons.” “Eleanor, you must understand the purpose of this alliance: either to gain resources from the Patton’s information technology sector, or to leverage your identity as Mrs. Patton during the marriage to develop the Thorne family’s own segment. As for other matters, like that infidelity clause…” A flicker of disdain and coldness crossed Mother’s eyes. “It might seem like a question of your character, but who’s to say it isn’t…” “Them shooting themselves in the foot.” Mother patted my hand reassuringly, then thoughtfully rose and returned to her bedroom. On the empty floor, I stared at my toes, unable to collect myself. Mother’s words brought back Evan Patton’s moralizing demeanor. What was he so proud of? What did he mean by pretending to be a superior being to control me? Did he have no emotions? Could he guarantee he’d never slip up? Taking a deep breath, a faint competitive urge stirred within me. I stopped dwelling on what this alliance would bring me. The Thorne family was both my refuge and my honor. Now, it was my duty to do what was necessary for them.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391216”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

During the year I hit rock bottom, I agreed to my mother’s demand. I would marry a man in place of my twin sister and take care of her newly blind husband. What they didn’t know was that in this game of playing the substitute, I had fallen far too deep into my role. Later, when we met again, he was holding my sister’s hand, announcing to the media that they were going to hold a grand wedding. Everyone said they were a match made in heaven, their love stronger than gold. He twisted the wedding band on his finger, his gaze dropping to the audience. “My wife is the best woman in the world.” My sister smiled radiantly beside him. And I stood in the audience, fighting back tears, clapping for their beautiful love story. 1 “Here is one million dollars.” The elegantly dressed woman sitting on the sofa handed me a check. I stared at her for a few seconds before finally stepping forward to take it. “After today, Harrison’s vision will be fully restored. So, it’s time for both of you to return to your rightful places.” That’s right. The woman sitting on the sofa was my biological mother, Evelyn. She looked dotingly at the girl standing next to her. “Lily, you two should communicate about the minor details of your daily life. You absolutely cannot let Harrison notice anything is off.” The girl nodded obediently. “I know, Mom.” After Evelyn left, Lily dropped her innocent act. She crossed her legs and looked at me with smug satisfaction. “Mia, my dear sweet sister.” “You really should win an Oscar. If it wasn’t for you, how could Harrison have fallen so deeply in love with me?” “Regardless, for these past two years, I suppose I owe you a thank you.” I looked at the face that resembled mine by about sixty or seventy percent, and forced a slight twitch of my lips. “Yeah.” “But seriously, your acting is incredible. How about you become my permanent body double?” “As for the pay, I’ll take eighty percent, you take twenty. How’s that? Being an actress is way better than whatever else you’d be doing.” I shook my head. “The entertainment industry isn’t for me.” Yes, Lily was my twin sister. When I was three years old, our dad died in an accident. Evelyn already despised him. Less than twenty-four hours after his death, she packed her bags, took my sister, and left. I grew up in a small, rural town, living a life without parents. My grandma raised me all by herself. But two years ago, Grandma fell severely ill, and I had absolutely no money to save her. When I was at the end of my rope, my mother suddenly showed up. That was when I learned that after leaving the country, she had married her current husband. He was a very powerful man. And also her first love. She told me she could get me the best doctors and the best medical care for Grandma, plus an extra million dollars. The condition was that I had to marry a man in my sister’s place and take care of him until he recovered. Faced with my grandma’s failing life, I couldn’t care less about morals, or what was right and wrong. All I knew was that Grandma was my only family left in this world. I couldn’t lose her. I had to save her. Lily’s fiancé was Harrison Vance. In a terrible accident, he had lost his sight. The doctors said his recovery timeline was completely unpredictable. Lily never liked Harrison to begin with, and when she found out he was blind, she resisted the marriage even more. She thought he was a cripple—a rich and powerful cripple, but a cripple nonetheless. But she couldn’t break off the engagement. This was a hard-won opportunity for her stepfather’s family. With the Vance family’s connections, they could reach entirely new heights. However, right around that time, Lily was diagnosed with a brain tumor. She needed to go abroad for surgery. Her return date was uncertain, so my mother suddenly remembered she had another daughter. When we were little, Lily and I looked exactly alike. Even our mother couldn’t tell us apart. But as we grew up, we only shared a passing resemblance. Because she had gotten plastic surgery. She altered the eyes and nose that looked too much like our father’s. Because she, too, was sick of that poor man and wanted to erase every trace of him from her face. Fortunately, the power of modern makeup is incredible. Plus, before marrying Harrison, my mother put me through rigorous training to mimic Lily’s every mannerism. So, no one noticed the cracks. Sometimes, even I caught myself wondering whether I was Mia or Lily. 2 I handed a small notebook to Lily. Inside was a detailed record of everything between Harrison and me over the past two years. It included all our anniversaries, his living habits, his preferences… The one I gave her was a copy. I planned to keep the original for myself. Weren’t those two years acting as Lily the exact years I got everything I ever wanted? It was only when I handed the notebook back to her that it truly hit me: I was just a stand-in. The past two years were nothing but a beautiful dream. Lily flipped through it casually. Her expression suddenly turned fascinating, as if she’d read something incredibly entertaining. “You and Harrison actually had sex?” She looked amused. My face flushed. I had written it vaguely, but I didn’t expect her to be so blunt. “Alright, alright, my good sister, I’ll stop teasing you.” She looked a bit excited. “That’s great, actually. I’ve never tried a man like Harrison before.” “Oh, right. Just to be safe, once things are stable with him, I’m going to get a little more work done on my face. That way, you won’t have to live your life hiding in the shadows.” She was surprisingly considerate of me in that regard. But mostly, I guessed she just wanted to get her lips done. After all, our lips still looked exactly like our dad’s. I forced a smile, feeling a pang of sorrow for my father. I remember when we were little, Dad used to carry us both on his shoulders, telling us we were his little princesses… And now, his other daughter wanted to completely erase the facial features she shared with him. I nodded. “Whatever you want.” Lily looked at me for a moment, then tossed me a set of keys. “This is my apartment. You can stay there for now.” “Remember, until I have my footing with him, you must wear a mask every time you go outside.” I nodded obediently, then left their house. I held the keys, but my mind dragged me back to two years ago. When my mother found me, her demands went beyond just being Lily’s stand-in for the marriage. While Lily was recovering from surgery, I also had to fulfill her lifelong dream. To be an actress. Lily had dreamed of being a movie star since she was a kid, but she could never get into the film academies. She was about to give up, but when my mother saw me, she thought it was worth a shot. If I succeeded, when Lily returned, all the glory and fame would belong to her. If I failed, Lily wouldn’t be the one taking the heat from the public. She had absolutely nothing to lose. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Mia, is it really that hard to accept that your mother just doesn’t love you? Maybe it wasn’t that she didn’t love me; she just didn’t love my father. And by extension, she hated the daughter who looked like him and chose to stay with him. I had seen it countless times. Whenever I stood in front of her without makeup, the sheer disgust on her face was impossible to hide. It was true. I was her ultimate shame. When she left the house, I refused to go with her. To her, that meant I was forever her enemy. And Lily, who left with her, was her only true daughter. 3 Harrison had his final surgery, and today was the day the bandages were coming off. Before going into the operating room, he held my hand, looking nervous. “Honey, will you be there when I wake up?” I kissed his eyes. “Of course I will.” He hugged me, smiling brightly. “I want to see you…” Like I was possessed, I hailed a cab to the hospital. I just wanted to see him. Even though the person who promised to stay by his side was supposed to be Lily. Just let me indulge this one last time, I comforted myself. I bundled myself up tightly in a heavy coat, a hat, and a face mask. From the moment I agreed to be a stand-in, I ceased to be a good person, didn’t I? Soon, I arrived outside Harrison’s VIP room. He was the sole heir to the Vance family. With his vision being restored today, the room was packed with people. And standing right in the center of it all was Lily. “Harrison, don’t be nervous,” Lily said, holding his hand soothingly. The doctor slowly unwound the gauze. Harrison’s previously unfocused eyes blinked, then locked squarely onto Lily. “Honey, you’re so beautiful!” Even from the hallway, I could clearly hear the sheer joy in his voice. His parents started teasing him, saying he’d completely forgotten about them now that he could see his wife. The cheers and laughter from inside suddenly felt piercing to my ears. I didn’t want to stay any longer, so I turned and walked away. Sitting on a bench outside the hospital, I looked up at the lit window of Harrison’s room. There really was nothing to be sad about, right? The person Harrison loved was always meant to be Lily. When he was blind, Harrison had a terrible temper. That was right after we got our marriage license. It was my first time being in close proximity to him. He smashed everything in our bridal suite to pieces. That was when I learned that the boy who had stolen my heart at first glance years ago actually had a horrible personality. At the time, I thought to myself: Is he really blind, or is he just faking it to throw a tantrum? He constantly spoke to me with biting coldness. Judging by how viciously he insulted me, I figured his relationship with the real Lily hadn’t been that great to begin with. I never took it to heart, because the person he was cursing wasn’t actually me. Over time, because I never talked back, he got bored. He actually started treating me with a lot more respect. Later on, under my careful care, Harrison gradually grew dependent on me. He stopped lashing out with cruel words. But back then, besides taking care of him, I also had to juggle my acting career. Whenever I was filming a movie, Harrison would move into a hotel near my set. And he would stay there until we wrapped. Sometimes, his insecurities would flare up. One time, as soon as I got back to the hotel, I leaned in to wipe his eyes with a warm towel. The moment I got close, he grabbed my wrist, his voice dripping with grievance. “You smell like another man.” I was confused. It was probably just the cologne rubbing off from my male co-star during a scene. It was just a normal part of the job. I planned to give him a quick, casual excuse and brush it off. But his eyes turned red, and he lost his temper again. “Lily, do you think I’m repulsive?! Do you think I’m just a useless cripple?!” Watching him throw a hysterical fit, I felt a surge of my own grievances. Who was looking down on him? At that time, I was walking on eggshells, terrified of my identity being exposed, while exhausting myself acting on set. I was doing things I wasn’t good at, but was forced to do. The one who wanted to be an actress was the real Lily, not me! The more I thought about it, the more wronged I felt, and my quiet sobs quickly turned into loud crying. That terrified Harrison. He followed the sound of my crying, found me, and pulled me gently into his arms. He held me until I slowly calmed down, and he calmed down with me. “Lily, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. Next time I—” Before he could finish, I shut him up. By stealing his first kiss. I grabbed him by his tie, my voice still thick with tears. “Harrison Vance, I like you! Do you have any idea?!” Only I knew that in that split second, I wasn’t Lily. I was Mia. The Mia who had fallen in love with him the very first time she saw him in high school. After a long time, I let go of him. He hadn’t even processed what happened, just sitting there completely stunned. “I’m going to get you some water!” Just as I tried to stand up, he reached out blindly and yanked me back. “I didn’t catch that. Let’s try it again.” 4 I stayed in Lily’s apartment for nearly a month. During that time, I rarely went out. Lily never came to look for me either. I figured she was adapting to her life perfectly well. After all, everything had returned to its rightful owner. But a week later, Lily suddenly showed up at the apartment. “What’s wrong?” She angrily ripped off her sunglasses and mask. “Tell me the truth! Is Harrison normal?!” I hesitated. “What do you mean? Normal in what way?” “What do I mean?! Don’t play dumb! I’ve been living with him for a month!” “I am this gorgeous, and he hasn’t even touched me!” Lily’s eyes were full of disgust. “Tell me! Is he impotent?!” Where she couldn’t see, I let out a massive sigh of relief. If Lily had come here today to complain about the intimate details of their sex life, I probably would have been sick to my stomach. Maybe deep down, I couldn’t bear the thought of sharing the Harrison I had spent two years with. “I… I don’t know.” “A man who can’t perform isn’t a real man!” Lily ground her teeth. “If Mom hadn’t forbidden it, I’d make you go back and cover for me again!” I was shocked. Did Lily really just suggest bringing me in for marital… duties? “What are you looking at me for? Do you want to live like a nun?!” I shook my head like a rattle drum. I didn’t know what was going on with Harrison, but based on my personal experience, there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. After all, I still vividly remembered the time I couldn’t get out of bed for three days. “And another thing, how exactly did you act on set?” Compared to Harrison, Lily seemed much more concerned with her career. I told her the truth. She frowned, quickly losing patience. “Whatever. I have the Vance and Sterling families backing me now. Even if my acting sucks, I’ll still get the best roles!” “Being eye candy isn’t a bad gig anyway.” She seemed to have just come to vent, and once she was done, she left. But before leaving, she told me her lip fillers and alterations were done. Which meant I was free to do whatever I wanted now. “Oh, considering you did me a huge favor…” “If you ever hit a dead end, you can come work at the Sterling Corporation.” Lily grabbed her designer bag and clacked away in her heels. Go to the Sterlings? I laughed bitterly. If I could help it, I never wanted anything to do with them ever again. The very first thing I did after Lily left was pack my bags and move out of her apartment. I went back to my hometown. Fortunately, Grandma had been moved from the ICU to a regular ward. She had several private nurses taking care of her. I was relieved to know she was recovering, though it would take time before she fully woke up. I stayed in my hometown with her for a week before heading back to the city. But I didn’t return to Lily’s apartment. Since she was adapting to her identity, our business was officially concluded. I had the one million dollars. After setting aside Grandma’s future medical bills, there was still plenty left for her recovery care.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391235”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

For three years of marriage, the “Wife’s Seat” decal on the passenger side of Preston Moore’s car had been a permanent fixture. It was a brand, a claim, a lie. I found the prenatal exam results tucked in the glovebox. It wasn’t mine. When I confronted him, Preston didn’t even look up from his tablet. He was as cool as the marble countertops in our kitchen. “It’s a prop, Nora. My parents are breathing down my neck for an heir. Don’t read into it.” A few weeks later, at a high-stakes business gala, I watched him peel shrimp for his assistant, Lacey, with a tenderness he hadn’t shown me in years. He didn’t offer a word of explanation. “She’s an employee,” he’d said later, dismissing my hurt with a flick of his wrist. “I was being a good boss. If you’re that insecure, just fire her.” But the next time I saw Lacey, she wasn’t filing papers. She was standing in my hallway, her hand resting on a slight swell in her stomach, a triumphant smirk on her face. In a fit of blind, white-hot rage, I pushed her. I didn’t mean for her to fall so hard. I didn’t mean for the hospital trip to end the way it did. Preston didn’t yell. He didn’t even mention the “accident.” He stayed devoted—scary devoted. He pampered me by day and was relentless, almost feral, in bed by night. I thought he’d forgiven me. Then the kidnappings started. Seven times in a single month. Seven times I was snatched from the street, dragged into basements, and broken. My own pregnancy—a tiny, flickering life I hadn’t even told him about yet—was lost in a blur of blood and concrete floors. My parents, desperate to save me, poured their dignity and their fortune into the hands of shadows, only to die in front of me when the ransom wasn’t enough. When I finally crawled back to our estate, covered in grime and dried blood, the front door was ajar. I heard laughter from the living room. Preston’s inner circle—the elite, the untouchables—were gathered around the poker table. “I’ve got five million on the wife,” one of them chuckled, throwing a chip into the center. “Nora is obsessed with Moore. Even when she finds out the truth, she’ll crawl back. She’s addicted to him.” “I’m in for twenty million,” another countered, his voice dripping with malice. “Forgiveness? She’ll be on her knees thanking him. Preston arranges a ‘disappearance’ every seven days like clockwork, and she still looks at him like he’s her savior.” I clamped my hand over my mouth, the taste of copper filling my throat. Tears carved tracks through the filth on my face. It wasn’t bad luck. It wasn’t the city’s underbelly. It was Preston. Every bruise, every scream, every drop of my parents’ blood—it was all a tribute to Lacey. It was his way of balancing the scales for her lost child. Leaving him would take a lifetime of courage, but I only needed seven days to disappear. … I stood in the shadows of the foyer, a ghost in my own home, watching Preston lift Lacey from the sofa. He carried her upstairs with a reverence that made my skin crawl. “Preston’s too good to her,” one of his friends remarked, watching them go. “Lacey so much as coughs and he starts shaking. Look at him—she’s just a little lightheaded and he’s acting like the world is ending.” “Remember when she lost the baby?” another whispered. “Preston nearly leveled that hospital. The surgeon who performed the procedure is lucky to be walking.” When Preston came back downstairs, there were fresh red marks on his neck. The men started to tease him, but he held up a hand. “Keep it down. Lacey’s sleeping. Is the facility ready?” “Top of the line,” his associate replied. “The private care wing is finished. A hundred-million-dollar project, just like you asked.” Preston nodded, his expression hardening into something cold and crystalline. “From now on, you refer to her as Mrs. Moore. I’m moving her in permanently in a few days.” “And… what about Nora?” Preston’s voice was a whetted blade. “The moment she forced Lacey into that surgery, she signed her soul over to me. Every ounce of pain Lacey felt, I want Nora to feel a hundredfold.” I swallowed back a sob, my lungs burning. “The cycle is almost up,” the man continued. “When do we ‘rescue’ her this time? If we leave her out there too long, she might get suspicious.” Preston let out a short, mocking laugh. “Suspicious? She spends every second of those kidnappings praying I’ll walk through the door. By the time I ‘save’ her, she’ll be more in love with me than ever.” I leaned against the wall, my vision blurring. I should have known. Our estate was a fortress, guarded by the best security money could buy. Yet, every time I was taken, the guards had been elsewhere. My parents had found me so easily because Preston had left breadcrumbs for them to follow—all the way to their graves. A sharp scream from upstairs shattered the silence. Preston’s face transformed into a mask of pure panic—an emotion he had never once wasted on me. He sprinted up the stairs. I stood there, frozen, as a team of on-call doctors rushed past me. Lacey had simply had a nightmare. That was all it took to move heaven and earth in this house. After a long while, I heard Preston’s voice booming from the landing, raw with misplaced fury. “Tell the next crew to move the date up. Lacey’s trauma is too deep. Nora needs to hurt more. Now.” I stared down at my arms, at the mottled purples and yellows of my skin. This was the man who used to fret over a mosquito bite on my ankle. My agony had become his therapy, and my husband was the architect of my hell. I tried to turn, to run, but my legs gave out. I hit the floor, the grit from the street digging into my open wounds. The noise drew him. Preston appeared at the top of the stairs and froze when he saw me. In an instant, his “loving husband” mask was back on. He ran down and gathered me into his arms, his touch making my stomach turn. “Nora! God, you’re finally home! I’ve been searching everywhere. Tell me who did this to you. I swear, I’ll make them pay.” Tears fell from his eyes onto my cheek. I felt nothing but a cold, hollow vacuum in my chest. I marveled at the performance. How many years had I been blinded by this acting? I let out a broken whimper, my lips trembling. He carried me to our bedroom, but his eyes flickered nervously toward the closed door across the hall—Lacey’s room. “I… I turned that into a nursery for the baby,” he lied, his voice thick with fake emotion. “I had to lock it. I didn’t want you to see it and be reminded of what we lost.” I stiffened in his arms. Another lie. I looked at his handsome face, and all I saw were the flashes of my father’s dying eyes and the blood on the clinic floor. The nausea surged. I couldn’t stop it. I retched, a dark, bitter bile spilling onto the expensive rug. Before I blacked out, I heard his voice, stripped of all warmth, whispering to someone nearby. “Take her back out. Just make sure you don’t damage her womb.” This time, perhaps fearing he’d pushed too far, the “kidnappers” only kept me for a day. Preston held me again when I “returned,” his voice a masterpiece of heartbreak. “I’m so sorry, Nora. They intercepted the car on the way to the hospital. Who are these people? Talk to me, honey. Let me protect you.” I looked at him and felt a hysterical urge to laugh. He didn’t want to protect me. He wanted to preserve my body so he could witness the death of a thousand more of my children. “The doctor is coming,” he whispered. “Just hold on.” But the doctor never came to my room. I heard the frantic footsteps in the hallway all night. Every medical professional in the house was in Lacey’s room. I lay in my own blood, my clothes fused to my skin by dried plasma, shivering until I passed out from the pain. When I finally managed to limp downstairs the next morning, Lacey was sitting on the sofa. When she saw me, she feigned a violent shudder of fear. Preston was instantly at her side, shielding her from me. “Nora, don’t start. Lacey is staying here for a while. She’s fragile. Don’t go near her.” I didn’t say a word. I walked past them, out the front door, and drove myself to the crematorium. When I went to claim my parents’ remains, the attendant handed me a small plastic bottle filled with a clear, caustic liquid. My heart stopped. “What is this?” “A woman came by,” the attendant said, looking uncomfortable. “She said the deceased died with ‘bad energy.’ She brought a priest and a gentleman. They insisted the bones be dissolved in this solution to… clear the aura, they said.” I hit the wall, my breath hitching in my throat. The world tilted. I dialed Preston’s number with shaking fingers. The call connected, and for a second, I heard the low, rhythmic sounds of intimacy. I pushed past the disgust. “Preston… my parents’ ashes. Why? Why would you do that?” “Lacey was having nightmares about them, Nora,” he said, his voice dropping into that calm, gaslighting tone. “The medium said their spirits were restless because of the ‘accident’ with the baby. We had to neutralize the remains. It’s for the best, really. Even for them.” I hung up. I went home, walked straight up to Preston, and slapped him across the face with every ounce of strength I had left. When I turned to Lacey, Preston’s hand caught my shoulder and shoved me back. “Have you lost your mind?!” he roared. “They were two dead people, Nora! Get over it!” Lacey dropped to her knees, sobbing. “It’s my fault, Nora! Don’t be mad at Preston! Hit me if you have to!” The sight of her—the woman responsible for the erasure of my family—sent the blood rushing to my head. I reached for a heavy crystal ashtray on the side table. CRACK. Preston was faster. He grabbed the ashtray and slammed it into my forehead. “I won’t let you hurt her again!” he snarled, pulling Lacey into his chest. Blood poured down my face, blinding me. He didn’t even look back as he led her away. I sat on the floor, found the first aid kit, and stitched my own skin while my world burned. My phone vibrated. I answered, and the sound of the voice on the other end broke the dam. I sobbed until I couldn’t breathe. “Silas… I couldn’t even keep their ashes. I’m done. I don’t want him anymore.” The man on the other end was silent for a beat, his voice a low, vibrating rumble of controlled rage. “Nora. I’ve booked you a flight for tomorrow night. Get to the airport. I’m ending the Moore dynasty. It’s time for the sun to set on that house.” Suddenly, a pair of large hands wrapped around my waist. I froze. Preston stood behind me, frowning. “Who was that?” “Nobody.” “Baby, I’m sorry about earlier,” he whispered, kissing my temple. The smell of Lacey’s perfume clung to him. “You have to understand, I love you. I’ve always loved you. But Lacey lost a child because of you. I’m just trying to help you atone.” I nodded numbly. Atone. What a beautiful word for torture. He sat me down and opened his laptop, scrolling through designer catalogs. He ordered dozens of high-fashion pieces—all in Lacey’s size. Then, almost as an afterthought, he picked out two plain wool coats for me. “Lacey is delicate,” he said, not looking at me. “She needs the best to feel safe. You’re stronger than her, Nora. You don’t need the labels.” I looked away. He had forgotten that I was the one born into old money. I had spent my life in silks until I met him and lowered my standards to match his ego. He had mistaken my sacrifice for a lack of taste. A scream echoed from the garden. Preston bolted. I followed slowly, arriving to see a black viper coiled on the patio, hissing at Lacey. Preston didn’t hesitate; he lunged, snapping the snake’s neck with his bare hands. Lacey collapsed into his arms, weeping. When she saw me, she crawled to my feet, her eyes streaming. “Nora, I know you hate me for being with him, but I lost my baby too! Why would you put snake pheromones in my foundation? Why would you try to kill me?” My heart hammered against my ribs. Before I could speak, Preston’s hand blurred. The slap sent me reeling. He picked Lacey up and walked away, his eyes looking at me as if I were a piece of trash on the sidewalk. Hours later, two of Preston’s “security” men grabbed me. They dragged me to the back of the estate, to the pit where Preston kept his exotic reptiles. They threw me in. The door slammed shut, plunging me into darkness. Hiss. I clawed at the door until my fingernails tore. Snakes slithered over my boots, their cool, dry scales grazing my skin. I screamed until my throat was raw. The intercom crackled. Preston’s voice filled the small, humid room. “This is for your own good, Nora. You need to learn discipline. You can’t keep attacking Lacey. Consider this a cooling-off period.” I slumped against the wall, the darkness pressing in. Then, the audio changed. The sounds of Preston and Lacey in bed began to play over the speakers—a deliberate, psychological flaying. A heavy weight settled on my shoulder. A viper struck. When I woke up, the world was black. Not the darkness of the pit, but a flat, hollow nothingness. I reached out, tumbling from a bed onto a hard floor. I was blind. A familiar scent entered the room—sandalwood and expensive tobacco. “Nora, why won’t you just bow your head?” Preston’s voice was soft, almost pitying. “Just apologize. Lacey is so kind; she’d forgive you in a heartbeat.” I shoved his hand away when he tried to touch my face. His tone sharpened. “The venom wasn’t lethal. Your sight will return in a few days. I’ve already punished the person who put the poisonous snake in the pit.” I let out a jagged, cynical laugh. “Oh? And how did you punish her, Preston?” “She’s grounded,” he said, his voice turning defensive. “No TV, no phone, no shopping for a week. She’s learned her lesson. What more do you want, Nora? She didn’t mean for it to go that far.” He stormed out. On the day I was “released” from his private medical wing, my vision was still a milky blur. I fumbled my way through the house to find the bottle of my parents’ dissolved remains. Lacey met me at the door. With Preston gone, the mask vanished. She grabbed a handful of my hair, her face twisting into something demonic. “You’re still here? Why don’t you just go die like your parents did?” I wrenched myself away, grabbed my bag, and headed for the airport. Lacey watched me go, a cruel glint in her eyes. She pulled a small pill from her pocket and swallowed it. Within minutes, she was slumped on the floor, blood pooling beneath her. Preston returned to a bloodbath and went insane, racing her to the hospital. Lacey sobbed in his arms, “Don’t… don’t be mad at Nora… she didn’t mean to…” At the airport, I was barely out of the taxi when I was dragged into a blind alley. “Nora Whitlock, right? Someone paid us a lot of money to make sure you never walk again.” My brain felt like it was exploding. I fumbled for my phone and hit speed-dial. “Preston! Help me! Please!” “Lacey just lost her second child because of you, Nora,” Preston’s voice was like ice. “She’s in surgery. You’re really going to try the ‘damsel in distress’ act now? Go to hell.” He hung up. The men took my phone and smashed it against the brick wall. As the lead man unbuckled his belt, I closed my eyes. “Preston,” I whispered to the empty air. “You’re going to wish you had died in that pit with me.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391262”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The night before our wedding, my fiancée—a rising star Colonel in the Army—was in bed with my sister’s boyfriend. She was more than just a girlfriend; she was the woman my sister had treated like a soul-sister, the woman my parents had already welcomed into the family as a daughter. The shock of that betrayal was a jagged blade. It sent my sister, Natalie, spiraling. She crashed her car that same night and never woke up. My parents aged a decade in a single evening. I was hollowed out by grief, a ghost haunting my own life, looking for any way to join her. For months, our house was filled with nothing but the sound of muffled, broken sobbing behind closed doors. Eventually, my father made the call. We moved. We left the city, the memories, and the wreckage behind. Slowly, we stepped out from the shadow of that tragedy. I eventually found peace with Tessa, a woman whose love was a quiet harbor, and we had a beautiful daughter. Five years had passed. I honestly thought I’d never have to hear the name Maria Vincent again. Until my birthday. I walked into my office to find a box of maple-glazed pecans—the ones I used to crave—sitting on my desk. Taped to the lid was a note in a handwriting I recognized with a violent jolt of my heart: “Greg, it’s been a long time.” … My knuckles were bone-white as I gripped the box. Across the room, my senior advisor, Sarah, must have sensed the shift in the air. She hesitated before speaking. “Is it her?” I didn’t answer. I just kept my head down, focusing on the training schedules on my desk, though the words were blurring into meaningless ink. Sarah sighed. “I heard she put in for a transfer from the West Coast command. She’s back, Greg. Are you really going to keep doing this?” “Doing what?” I asked, my voice flat. “Avoiding the inevitable. You’re going to be colleagues again. And she was once your sister’s best—” “Sarah.” I cut her off, my pen digging so hard into the paper it tore. “In my sister’s life, there was no such person.” Sarah looked at me, her expression pitying. “Greg, it’s been five years. Do you still hate her that much?” “Yes.” The word was sharp, cold, and final. Sarah winced, shook her head, and quietly stepped out of the office. On my way out for the day, I ran into the Base Commander. She had been the instructor for both Natalie and Maria back at the Academy. After a brief briefing on the day’s exercises, her tone shifted, becoming uncharacteristically soft. “The orders came through today. Maria is officially back with the Eastern Command.” “Understood, Ma’am,” I said. The Commander stood silent for a few seconds. “Your sister was a soldier with a massive heart, Greg. If she were here, she wouldn’t want this bitterness to consume you.” Consumer me? Is that what people think? That the victim has to be the one to offer grace just to prove they have a ‘big heart’? I don’t understand why everyone is whispering for me to let it go. Does time somehow scrub away the blood? I’m the one standing on the moral high ground, yet I’m the one being held hostage by terms like “the bigger picture” and “comradery.” Comrade. Leader. Friend. Why is everyone speaking for her? I don’t want to understand her side, and I refuse to try. The early winter wind bit at my face as I walked to the parking lot. By the time I reached my driveway, I had carefully smoothed my expression into a mask of normalcy. Inside, my parents and Tessa were in the kitchen making dinner. My three-year-old, Zoe, was sitting on a stool, her small hands covered in flour, poking holes in a lump of dough. “Daddy!” Zoe dropped her dough and lunged for me. I scooped her up, kissing her dusty cheek. She held up her mangled creation with pride. “I made a biscuit for Auntie Nat!” My throat tightened, a sudden, familiar ache. “Good job, sweetie. It looks delicious.” When dinner was served, I filled a small plate and set it at the empty seat at the table. A neatly folded, older-style service uniform sat on the chair—it hadn’t been moved in five years. We kept it there like she was just away on a long deployment, a mission she’d be back from any minute. Zoe tugged at my sleeve. “Daddy, why does Auntie Nat only stay in the picture frame?” “Why doesn’t she come down to eat?” “When is she gonna play with me?” I looked at the photo on the wall. Natalie was frozen at twenty-four, her bars gleaming on her shoulders, her smile bright enough to break your heart. The room went silent. My parents’ hands faltered for a second before they went back to their plates. Tessa reached out under the table and squeezed my hand. I stroked Zoe’s hair, looking into her clear, innocent eyes. I couldn’t find the words. If Natalie were here, she’d be the perfect daughter, the best sister, the most amazing aunt. But there are no ifs in the cemetery. For five years, I thought I’d buried those memories along with the woman who caused them. I was wrong. It only took one box of pecans for the wound to rip wide open. The next morning, the moment I stepped into the training center, I ran straight into her. Five years hadn’t dimmed Maria. If anything, her edges were sharper. The softness of our youth was gone, replaced by a cold, striking beauty and the unmistakable, suffocating aura of a Special Ops veteran. A group of soldiers passed us, saluting me. I was so paralyzed I forgot to return the gesture. My eyes were locked on her face, and it felt like a giant hand was crushing my lungs. A dark, intrusive thought flickered in my mind: If only it had been her in that grave five years ago. If only Natalie were the one standing here today. “How have you been, Greg?” Maria spoke first. Her voice was steady, devoid of the emotion I was currently drowning in. I turned to walk away, but she grabbed my wrist. Her grip was iron. She was frowning, a hint of suppressed desperation in her eyes. “Greg, stop. I know I messed up back then, but I’m not some monster. I haven’t forgotten what your family did for me. I’ve carried that debt every single day. Can we just… let the past stay in the past?” I spun around, staring into her eyes. The hatred in me exploded, hot and stinging behind my eyelids. “You think it’s that simple? You think you just get to decide when it’s over?” Her frown deepened. “Greg, I know you’re angry. But it’s been five years—” “Time doesn’t change the facts, Maria!” She was silent for a moment. “What happened between me and Brooks… I’m sorry. To you, and to Natalie.” She looked at me with an agonizing sincerity. “The only reason I transferred back was to apologize to your faces.” That was the fuse. Five years of repressed rage caught fire. I wrenched my hand away with enough force to make her stumble. “Don’t you dare say her name!” My voice was a ragged whisper, and finally, the tears spilled over. I didn’t wait for a response. I turned and bolted. I had just made it into my office when the door slammed open. It was Riley, a close friend who’d just returned from a rotation at the border. She had been in Natalie’s unit back in the day. She grabbed my arm, seeing my red eyes. “I heard she was back. I finished my debrief early and hauled ass over here.” She searched my face. “You saw her?” I nodded. Riley started rolling up her sleeves, her eyes flashing. “That bitch really has the nerve. I’m going to go out there and break her arm. Right now.” I pulled her back, shaking my head. Riley stopped, looking at my pale face, her own eyes welling up. “Greg, if it wasn’t for your parents and Natalie, she wouldn’t have even finished the Academy. They paid for her mother’s funeral. They treated her like blood.” “And she turned around and climbed into bed with Natalie’s fiancé.” “People like that… they should be court-martialed for treason against the heart.” The pain in my chest was a dull, rhythmic throb. Riley was right. Maria Vincent deserved a reckoning that life hadn’t given her yet. Back then, Maria was Natalie’s best friend. They were inseparable. Maria came from nothing—her father died in the line of duty, and her mother was chronically ill. When her mom passed during our sophomore year, Maria didn’t even have the money for a casket. Natalie went to our parents, begging for help. My parents, being the people they are, didn’t just pay for the funeral. They became her safety net. Later, Maria worked herself to the bone to pay them back every cent, with interest. She even spent two years tutoring me in military theory to show her gratitude. We thought we had gained a family member. We thought we were looking at a woman of honor. We never imagined she would be the one to push our family into the abyss. And then there was Brooks. The man who was supposed to be my brother-in-law, the man who became the wedge between Maria and me. He was in the military band—charming, soft-spoken, exactly the kind of guy my parents loved. Back then, Maria and I were already engaged. The invitations were printed. But at every party, every dinner, I started noticing the way Brooks looked at Maria. It wasn’t right. It was a look of hungry, desperate longing. He never looked at Natalie like that. I tried to mention it to Maria a few times. She’d just laugh and ruffle my hair. “What are you imagining, Greg?” “He’s your future brother-in-law. There’s a code, remember? I’m not that kind of person.” She’d tease me, saying if Natalie knew I was being so paranoid, she’d think Maria was a bad influence. She was so convincing that I buried my instinct. But soon, they stopped hiding it well. The flirting became constant, even in front of me. Once, Brooks handed Maria his half-finished water bottle, and she drank from it without a second thought. My heart sank into my stomach. Maria and I had a blowout fight about it. “Are you really doing this? To Natalie? To me?” She stayed silent for a long time before looking up, promising me she’d keep her distance from him. For a while, she did. But the air between us turned cold. The intimacy didn’t just fade; it vanished. Three days before the wedding, I went to our new apartment to set up some decorations. I punched in the code and opened the door. The blood in my veins turned to ice. The bedroom door was wide open. On the custom red silk sheets—a gift for our wedding night—two figures were tangled together. Uniforms were scattered like debris across the floor. The box of decorations slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with a deafening metallic crash. Maria bolted upright, her face draining of all color when she saw me at the door. “Get out!” she barked, her voice a low, defensive snarl. I was shaking so hard I could barely stand. I turned and ran, stumbling down the stairs into the hallway. My phone buzzed. A text from Brooks: “Sorry, little brother. Some things just can’t be held onto.” I collapsed in the stairwell, sobbing until I couldn’t breathe. How could they? To me? To Natalie? Natalie. She had to know. I reached for my phone with trembling hands, but before I could dial, a call came in. Natalie had been in a horrific accident. The world went black. Natalie was in the ICU in a coma for seven days. The military surgeon stood beside me, his voice a low rumble of clinical grief. “Her brain activity suggests she might be conscious, Greg. But the trauma is too severe; her body simply can’t respond.” He adjusted his glasses. “Talk to her. If she has the will to live, there’s a chance she might come back.” I nodded, my throat too tight for words. “What caused the crash?” “Preliminary report says excessive speed. She lost control on a sharp curve.” Speed. Natalie was the most cautious driver I knew. Unless something had shattered her focus. Three days later, the police returned her phone. It was cracked but functional. I held it for a long time before typing in the code. It was Brooks’s birthday. There was one unread notification on her messaging app. It was from Brooks, sent the very hour I had caught them. I played the voice memo. The sound of his disgusting moans and Maria’s heavy breathing filled the quiet hospital room. I barely made it to the trash can before I was retching. Tears mixed with stomach acid as I collapsed onto the sterile tile floor. The smell of bleach was suddenly overwhelming, stinging my nose and searing my brain. So that was it. She had heard that recording. She had heard them, lost her mind, and sped home to find the truth. They killed her. I wiped my face, deleted the recording, and cleared the trash folder. I kept the secret. I didn’t tell my parents; they were already broken enough. I spent every day by her bed, talking to her. I told her stories from our childhood, gossip from the base, anything to keep the air filled with sound. But I never mentioned Maria or Brooks. A week in, her finger twitched. Before I could even call for a nurse, Brooks appeared. Through the ICU glass, I saw him standing over her bed, leaning down and whispering something. When he saw me, he had the audacity to smile. “Hey, Greg. I was just catching Natalie up. Telling her how much we’re looking forward to your wedding with Maria.” “She needs to hurry up and get better so we can all celebrate together.” The provocation was so blatant, so cruel, that I saw red. I hadn’t made a scene yet, but that didn’t mean I’d forgotten what he’d done. I didn’t even realize I was moving until I had him by the collar. I slammed him against the wall and buried my knee in his stomach. Brooks gasped, sliding down the wall. “Greg, have you lost your mind!” Maria screamed, charging into the room. I tried to speak, but the words were caught in a knot of rage. Suddenly, Brooks let out a pathetic moan. “Maria… my stomach… it hurts…” Maria glared at me with pure venom. She knelt down, her voice dripping with a tenderness she’d never shown me. “Don’t worry, baby. You’re okay. We’re going to get a doctor.” I watched them disappear around the corner, their footsteps echoing away. I stood there, alone. Brooks was fine, of course. The doctor said he was just “shaken up.” I was at my breaking point. But for the sake of my parents, I swallowed the glass and kept moving. That afternoon, after sending my exhausted parents home to rest, I walked back toward the ICU. I stopped dead at the glass. They were in there. Brooks and Maria, locked in a deep, passionate kiss. Right at the foot of my sister’s bed. I was paralyzed. Then I heard Brooks’s muffled voice. “When Natalie wakes up, I’m sure she’ll want us to be happy.” Maria held him tighter. “As soon as she’s stable, we’ll tell her the truth.” The words had barely left her mouth when the monitor let out a long, piercing shriek. Natalie’s fingers curled violently. The rhythmic mountain range of her EKG flattened into a single, terrifying horizon. “Doctor! Code Blue!” I screamed, lunging for the door. The hallway erupted. Doctors and nurses swarmed the room like white-winged birds. Everything was a blur of crashing equipment and tangled wires. The sound of the defibrillator echoed. “Clear! Two hundred joules!” “Again! Three hundred!” I charged into the room, shoving Maria and Brooks aside with a primal roar. “Get out! Get the hell out of here!” Maria’s face was ghostly. She tried to say something, but the sheer madness in my eyes drove her back. She grabbed Brooks and retreated. The door slammed shut. I collapsed in the corner, the tears finally coming—silent and devastating. The alarm kept ringing, a hammer hitting the final nail into my heart. “Nat, please,” I whispered. “Please don’t go. Don’t leave me here with them.” I got on my knees and begged whatever god was listening. But no one was listening. I watched as the woman who had spent her whole life protecting me was wheeled into the morgue. An hour later, all that was left of her was a handful of ash. … I couldn’t stay here. Being in the same command as Maria was an impossible weight. I decided to put in for leave to go home. As I waited for the elevator, the doors slid open. Maria was there. She didn’t just walk out; she practically lunged at me, her hands gripping my shoulders. Her voice was trembling, her eyes bloodshot. “Greg… why is everyone saying… why are they saying your sister is dead?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391280”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When my ex-husband, Arthur Vance, finally tracked me down, I was in the middle of picking out a cemetery plot for my late husband. The one I really wanted was too expensive, but I was terrified that buying a cheaper one would be doing him a disservice. Just as I was agonizing over the decision, Arthur asked me if I wanted to remarry him. The rejection that was on the tip of my tongue mutated into a very cautious question: “If we remarry… will my allowance still be fifty thousand a month?” Arthur looked at me, completely taken aback. After all, the woman I used to be treated money like dirt. He nodded, his eyes showing a flash of heartache I couldn’t quite understand. “Yes. As long as you play the role of an obedient, well-behaved wife.” I agreed without a second of hesitation. And I learned exactly how to be a good wife. I stopped checking his phone. I stopped demanding he remember our anniversaries. I stopped caring when he refused to set boundaries with his female “best friends.” But eventually, he screamed at me like a madman: “I just wanted you to listen to me! I didn’t want you to stop loving me!” … 1 When Arthur Vance found me, I was looking at cemetery plots for my late husband, Liam. I was even wearing a small white camellia pinned to my hair in mourning. Thinking about how Liam had drained his entire life savings to pay for my medical treatments, and how he had ultimately died saving me during the earthquake… my eyes couldn’t help but well up with tears. We were supposed to be on our honeymoon right now… Just as I was sinking into my grief, Arthur sat down directly across from me. His eyes critically scanned my outfit. The woman who once wore exclusively haute couture was now sitting in front of him wearing a stretched-out hoodie and faded, washed-out jeans. I looked so pathetic there wasn’t a single trace of my former wealthy life left. He frowned deeply. “You left me just to live like this?” I froze for a second before finally recognizing him. My ex-husband. We had been divorced for five years. Seeing me stay silent, Arthur assumed I was just overwhelmed with joy. He said flatly: “As long as you apologize and admit you were wrong, we can remarry. How about it?” I originally wanted to tell him to go to hell, but then I remembered the plot I had just been looking at cost seven figures. Even if I delivered DoorDash for the rest of my life, I might never be able to afford it. Thinking of that, I asked him carefully, “If we remarry… will my allowance still be fifty thousand a month?” Arthur stared at me in silence. Deep in his eyes, there was a flash of heartache I didn’t quite understand. He said, “As long as you’re a good, obedient girl, I’ll give you a hundred thousand. But if you act like you used to—throwing tantrums, acting crazy, and being constantly paranoid—then I’ll…” Before he could finish his threat, I immediately raised my hand in a pledge. “I understand. I will be obedient.” Arthur looked surprised. “Have you really thought this through? You used to be… you were never this easy to talk to.” I offered a helpless smile. “Like you said, Mr. Vance. That was how I used to be.” Used to be. I used to be the woman he held in the palm of his hand. I was Mrs. Vance, the envy of New York’s elite circle, and the most celebrated genius architect in the industry. Whether I relied on him or on myself, I could have lived an incredible life. But now? My reputation was completely destroyed. His childhood sweetheart had issued an industry-wide “blacklist” against me, making it impossible for me to find a decent job anywhere in the city. If I hadn’t met Liam, I probably would have just been a rotting corpse at the bottom of a cliff. Where was my former pride supposed to come from? Arthur’s expression shifted slightly. He frowned. “What did you just call me? Mr. Vance?” Looking at me sitting across from him—acting perfectly obedient, yet radiating a cold, impenetrable distance—Arthur felt like his heart had been submerged in water. It felt damp. Suffocating… Terrified he would get angry and take away my hundred thousand dollars, I quickly explained, “Did you forget? You were the one who forbade me from calling you ‘husband’.” Arthur’s face instantly went a shade paler. He remembered. He remembered that our marriage had been a secret. I was the Chief Architect at his firm. Publicly, everyone thought I was just a highly valued employee. And to make sure no one found out, he strictly forbade me from ever calling him “husband” at work. So, for years, I only ever called him “Mr. Vance.” Arthur looked annoyed. He rubbed his temples. “That was when you were at the company. We had to keep it professional. You don’t have to do that anymore.” A dense, prickling pain spread across my chest. Yeah. I don’t have to do that anymore. Because the career I was so fiercely proud of had been completely annihilated by him. I never had to play the role of his employee again. Unable to handle my silence, Arthur stood up irritably. “Come home with me.” I stood up obediently and followed him to his Cullinan. The moment I opened the door, I froze. The entire interior was customized in baby pink, and the dashboard was plastered with photo booth pictures of Arthur and Chloe. Chloe was his childhood sweetheart. She was also the spark that ignited our divorce. Noticing me staring blankly at the photos, Arthur panicked slightly and rushed to explain. “Chloe hurt her leg recently. My mom insisted she stay at our house so it’d be easier for me to drive her to and from work.” “You know how she is. She’s innocent, always has her head in the clouds, and likes this kind of childish stuff, so…” Before he could finish justifying it, I smiled and cut him off. “It’s pretty cute.” Arthur looked at my perfectly calm, unbothered face. “You don’t mind?” I shook my head, smiling. “Why would I mind? You two grew up together, you’re practically siblings.” “If something was going to happen between you two, it would have happened years ago. I never would have stood a chance.” 2 I thought saying that would make Arthur happy, but his face actually darkened by several shades. I had no idea why he was getting mad. Those were the exact words he used to say to me whenever I got jealous. Unfortunately, back then, I never believed in purely platonic friendships between men and women. So even when he said that, I still demanded he keep his distance from Chloe. He agreed to my face, but behind my back, he and Chloe were practically inseparable. Until the day I caught them at a gala. I lost my mind, screaming and hitting him. And the result? I was the one who suffered the brutal consequences. Did he forget all of that? Whatever. I didn’t care enough to manage his moods. I just looked down at my phone, calculating how long it would take me to save up enough for the cemetery plot. Arthur felt an absurd sense of unreality. He never expected that after just five years, I would completely, effortlessly accept his relationship with Chloe. But… this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Wasn’t I supposed to scream at him for crossing the line? Looking at my calm profile, Arthur comforted himself: It must be because she doesn’t want to lose me again. She’s too scared to get angry. At that moment, I remembered that a photo of Liam was still at my old apartment. I asked Arthur if we could swing by there first. Arthur refused immediately, looking deeply disgusted. “Do you honestly think my mansion has room for your garbage?” “Just call your landlord, tell them you’re breaking the lease, and have them throw it all away.” I opened my mouth, originally wanting to tell him that I wasn’t renting, that I owned the place. But on second thought, I just nodded submissively. That tiny, three-hundred-square-foot studio was the only inheritance Liam left me. There was no need for outsiders to know about it. The rest of the drive was silent. Half an hour later, I was standing in front of the house that used to be my marital home. In the front yard, the sycamore tree I had planted myself was thriving, looking lush and vibrant after five years of weathering the elements. I was a bit surprised. I distinctly remembered that on the day I left, Arthur swore he was going to rip this tree out by its roots. I didn’t expect it to still be standing here five years later. Arthur walked up beside me, looking incredibly unnatural as he offered, “I hired a Feng Shui master. He said this sycamore tree is good for my fortune, so I didn’t dig it up.” I nodded, wondering why he felt the need to explain that to me. I wasn’t narcissistic enough to think he kept the tree because he was still in love with me. Honestly, I was still waiting for him to tell me the real reason he wanted to remarry me. Very quickly, I got my answer. He wanted to remarry me… for his little childhood sweetheart. The front door opened from the inside. I saw Chloe, looking pale and fragile, being supported by a maid. She smiled brightly. “Arthur! You’re back!” I had already figured out on the drive over that she was living here, so I gave her a perfectly natural nod. “Long time no see, Chloe.” Chloe clearly didn’t expect me to be so calm. Her face wore its usual fake, saccharine smile as she greeted me affectionately, “Evelyn! It’s been so long.” “I told Arthur my birthday wish was for you two to get back together, and I can’t believe he actually went out and found you!” “It looks like Arthur really is my personal Santa Claus. He makes all my wishes come true.” If this were the old me, hearing those words would have shattered me. So the only reason I was brought back was because it was another woman’s birthday wish. But now? Not only was I not depressed, I looked at her with genuine, profound gratitude. “Thank you so much, Chloe. Mr. Vance told me you hurt your leg? Don’t worry, I will take excellent care of you.” This time, Chloe’s mask completely cracked. She stared at me in shock, forgetting to even deliver her next line. Arthur also stared at me in disbelief, trying to find some trace of sarcasm or fakeness in my eyes, only to realize I was being 100% sincere. The bizarre, suffocating feeling in his chest grew stronger. He quickly tried to explain, “Chloe is just joking with you. You’re my wife. If I want to remarry you, obviously it’s because I’ve thought about it from every angle.” I smiled and flattered him smoothly. “You are the CEO of the Vance Group. Any decision you make is obviously the result of deep, strategic thinking.” “Chloe’s wish was just a reference point. I get it. I totally understand.” I didn’t expect that even after I said that, Arthur still wouldn’t be satisfied. His face was dark as he glared at me, his eyes hiding a deep, probing confusion I didn’t understand. I looked back at him, blinking innocently. Ultimately, defeated by the clear, untroubled look in my eyes, he turned and stormed into the living room in a huff. I followed closely behind, but as I reached the doorway, Chloe blocked my path. Chloe leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Five years away, and your manipulation skills have definitely leveled up.” “Too bad that in the face of absolute favoritism, your little ‘playing hard to get’ routine isn’t going to work.” “Let me tell you the truth. Arthur only brought you back because I can’t get pregnant. He wants you to carry a baby for me, so I can officially marry into the Vance family without any pushback.” My heart skipped a beat. Have a baby? I couldn’t help but slowly rest my hand over my lower abdomen. Once upon a time, there was a baby growing there too. But tragically… it was murdered by its own father. 3 The look of absolute disgust on Arthur’s face that day was burned into my memory with crystal clarity. He had said: “A malicious, venomous woman like you has absolutely no right to bear my child.” I never imagined that five years later, he would actually want me to have a baby for him. But… I couldn’t have kids anymore either. If Arthur found out, would he throw me out on the street? Then what about the cemetery plot…? Thinking of this, I made a silent vow. I absolutely could not let Arthur find out. Just then, Chloe suddenly screamed and stumbled backward, her eyes turning red. “Evelyn, if you don’t like me, you can just say it… why did you stomp on my foot?!” The maid standing next to her immediately chimed in, pointing a self-righteous finger at me. “Madam, Miss Chloe already has an injured leg. With you stomping on her like that, she’s going to be in agony for days.” “You are truly…” Faced with these two dramatic actresses, I raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise, then immediately bowed my head and apologized. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” I was well accustomed to Chloe’s two-faced performances. In the past, I used to constantly complain to Arthur about her, calling her a manipulative snake. Unfortunately, Arthur never believed me. He said I was insane with jealousy, maliciously twisting the actions of an innocent little girl. Even though this “little girl” was exactly one month older than me. Because of that, I had no intention of trying to explain myself to Arthur. I just offered a prompt, sincere apology. A short distance away, Arthur’s face darkened. Seeing him look over, I assumed he was going to reprimand me just like he used to. I immediately took the initiative: “I know it wasn’t on purpose, but I acknowledge that I hurt Chloe.” “I accept my punishment. I will go to the attic right now.” Having said that, I turned and started walking toward the stairs. The attic had a confinement room. It was a “reflection room” Arthur specifically had built for me. Every time I “hurt” Chloe or disobeyed him, he would lock me in there to reflect on my actions. For twenty-four hours. No food. No water. In the beginning, I used to fight back and struggle. But eventually, I suffered a miscarriage while locked in that pitch-black room, and it gave me severe claustrophobia. After that, the mere threat of it reduced me to a sobbing, begging mess on my knees. Thankfully, I wasn’t afraid of the dark anymore. During that earthquake, I was trapped in a tiny, pitch-black space propped open by Liam’s body. It was completely dark, and we were covered in blood. But as his life slowly slipped away, I felt the most profound, intense love I had ever known. He pulled me out of my final psychological shadow. It was just that this time, the price had been far too high. Without realizing it, my eyes began to sting and turn red. When Arthur grabbed my wrist, this was the scene he saw—my head bowed submissively, my eyes holding absolutely zero resentment, only a trace of raw vulnerability. I looked like a fawn that had been abandoned by its mother in the wilderness. A sharp pain pierced Arthur’s heart. The inexplicable rage that had just flared up in his chest was instantly extinguished. He asked, a mix of helplessness and confusion in his voice, “When did I say I was sending you to the confinement room?” I looked up, genuinely shocked and flattered. “Huh? I really don’t have to go?” My reaction instantly stung Arthur’s eyes. He actually felt a surge of regret for how he had treated me in the past. He explained awkwardly, “When I locked you in there before, it was because you were immature. You made mistakes and were too stubborn to admit them, so I wanted to teach you a lesson.” “Now, it wasn’t on purpose, and your attitude in apologizing was excellent. There’s no need for punishment.” As he spoke, he looked over at Chloe standing nearby and smiled warmly. “Besides, Chloe is so kindhearted, how could she possibly want you punished over such a minor accident?” Chloe’s mask almost ripped right off her face. She stared at me with an unfamiliar, deeply unsettled gaze. The corners of her mouth twitched into a stiff smile as she nodded. “Yeah, Evelyn. If you go to the attic, it’ll make me look like I’m being aggressive and demanding.” I shook my head, quickly explaining, “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just so used to…” Chloe instantly switched to playing the victim. “I knew it! Evelyn still blames me. It was my fault back then, I was immature and didn’t know boundaries, and it caused a rift between you two.” “Evelyn, I’m so sorry. I formally apologize to you.” Arthur looked at me suspiciously. I knew exactly what he was thinking—he was wondering if I was trying to stir up drama again. I had just managed to dodge a punishment; there was no way I was letting Chloe trap me in another narrative. I put on my most sincere, earnest face. “How could you say that? I let go of all that a long time ago.” “Oh, by the way! Don’t you love my steamed sea bass?” “I’ll go to the farmer’s market right now, buy the freshest fish, and make it for you.” “But once you eat my fish, you’re not allowed to bring up the past anymore, okay?” My response effectively killed Chloe’s performance. She stood there awkwardly, watching me turn and run toward the front door. Before she even had a chance to speak, she watched Arthur walk right past her and chase me out the door. 4 Arthur grabbed my wrist, his brow furrowed. “I brought you back to be the lady of the house, not to be a servant.” I shook my head, looking completely unbothered. “It’s fine! I used to cook for Chloe all the time anyway.” Arthur opened his mouth, but it felt like a cork had been shoved down his throat. He couldn’t utter a single sound. He remembered a few years ago when Chloe had been pushed down the stairs. To make me “atone” for my sins, he forced me to act as Chloe’s personal maid for three months. Chloe was an incredibly picky eater, and I was never a good cook. The meals I brought her were repeatedly knocked to the floor, and I was forced to remake them from scratch. Back then, my hands were covered in burn blisters, but he never once felt an ounce of pity for me. After those three months, I firmly asked for a divorce. He blamed me for being unrepentant, and in a fit of rage, signed the papers. And that was the beginning of our five-year separation. Arthur sighed heavily. “You’re still blaming me for that, aren’t you? You’re saying this on purpose to remind me that I bullied you for Chloe’s sake.” “But honey, you were the one in the wrong back then. If I didn’t give the Miller family a proper explanation, the corporate partnership between our families would have been jeopardized…” “I’m not just your husband, I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation.” I didn’t expect that just volunteering to cook a meal would trigger another one of Arthur’s endless, self-justifying lectures. I had zero interest in hearing what he had to say. All I wanted to know was if he was going to drive me to the market, because the good one was pretty far away. When I made my request, I saw Arthur’s face turn incredibly bitter. It almost looked like… sadness. I had no idea what was wrong with him. I just rushed him, “Hurry up! If we get there late, all the fresh fish will be sold out.” Arthur got into the car with a dark expression. He drove me to the supermarket, quietly watched me buy groceries, and quietly drove me back home. Once we got back, he immediately jumped into a video conference call. Chloe sat closely by his side like a little bird, occasionally feeding him pieces of fruit. Meanwhile, I was in the kitchen prepping dinner, my mind racing: How the hell am I going to get Arthur to pay me my allowance? The cemetery sales rep had just texted me. Someone else was looking at that specific plot. I needed to pay the deposit immediately. … An hour later, the three of us were sitting at the dining table. I placed a tender piece of fish into Chloe’s bowl and asked, “Is it good?” Chloe raised an eyebrow in approval, immediately defaulting to treating me like a servant just like she used to. “The fish is decent. Tomorrow I want chicken stew with glass noodles, sea snails, and Australian lobster.” I immediately whipped out my phone, typing as I spoke: “No problem. Um… Mr. Vance, do you have time to take me grocery shopping tomorrow? If not, could you transfer some money to me?” “Otherwise, I don’t have any money to buy groceries.” Arthur stared at me in absolute shock. Then, he pulled out his phone and started transferring the money, while simultaneously telling Chloe: “Chloe, Evelyn isn’t a chef. If you want something specific, just tell Mrs. Higgins to make it.” Chloe’s face instantly turned an ugly shade of pale. She put down her chopsticks and looked like she was about to burst into tears. “I understand. I’m intruding on you two.” Saying that, she stood up to leave. “I think it’s better if I just go back to my own house. Otherwise, what happens if I say the wrong thing again?” As she turned, she suddenly fell to the floor. Her knee hit the hardwood with a loud, heavy thud. Just hearing the sound, you knew it had to hurt. Seeing this, Arthur rushed over and scooped her up into his arms. Her eyes were red as she tried to push him away. “Let me go, I don’t want you to hold me.” “Since Evelyn is back, everything I say is wrong, and everything I do makes you unhappy.” “It’s better if I just go home.” Arthur patiently coaxed her. “What are you talking about? I didn’t mean anything by it.” His gaze dropped to her knee, his voice filled with heartache. “Your knee… I’m taking you to the hospital right now.” He carried Chloe and practically sprinted toward the front door. As he reached the exit, he suddenly turned back, only to see me sitting at the table, casually eating my dinner as if nothing had happened. He swallowed whatever explanation he was about to give and said coldly, “Wait here. Don’t go anywhere.” I replied obediently, “Okay.” The exact second they left, I immediately wired an $80,000 deposit to the cemetery sales rep. Arthur didn’t come home for the next few days. I was thrilled to have the peace and quiet. One afternoon, while I was enjoying some tea, the butler suddenly led a group of people into the house. He said Mr. Vance had sent them to deliver clothes, bags, and shoes. It was the latest season’s collections from all the major luxury brands, and I could pick whatever I wanted. I selected several classic, high-value bags and some staple clothing items, already calculating how much I could sell them for on luxury resale sites in a few weeks. That night, I went to sleep early. In my dreams, I saw Liam. He was standing in a field of wildflowers, smiling and waving at me. I ran over, threw my arms around him, and said excitedly, “Liam! I made a hundred thousand dollars today! Aren’t I amazing?” He hugged me, his eyes full of tenderness. “Don’t force yourself to suffer just for me.” I shook my head. I didn’t feel like I was suffering at all. Besides, compared to everything he did for me, the little bit of acting I was doing was absolutely nothing. Suddenly, I felt something cold and wet on my skin, accompanied by heavy, low panting. It violently shredded my dream to pieces. I opened my eyes in extreme annoyance and saw Arthur pinned on top of me, passionately biting my earlobe. A wave of intense nausea surged up my throat. I completely lost control, violently shoved him off me, and sprinted to the bathroom to vomit.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391296”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Eight years after losing my daughter, my IVF treatments finally succeeded, and I was pregnant with a new life. But just one week before my due date, I was in a severe car accident, nearly killing both me and my unborn child. The driver who hit me was the exact same man who had run over and killed my daughter eight years ago. The moment I was discharged from the hospital, I went straight to the police precinct to provide a statement and press charges. But that very night, the case was dropped. At the station, I saw my husband—the man who hadn’t visited me a single time while I was fighting for my life in the ICU. Standing right beside him was a young, crying woman. “It was an accident,” the girl sobbed pitifully. “If Evelyn hadn’t gone out in the middle of the night, the crash wouldn’t have happened. My dad is innocent.” “Carter, I was separated from my dad for eight years because of her. I really don’t want to know what it feels like to lose him again. Please, you have to help me.” Carter pulled her into his arms, his eyes brimming with absolute devotion. “Shh, be good. I’m here. Nothing is going to happen to your dad.” … The words of confrontation choked in my throat. Before I could even react, Carter turned to me, his face turning ice-cold. “The charges have been dropped. I’ve already spoken to the District Attorney and signed a waiver of prosecution on your behalf. Drop it, Evelyn. Don’t pursue this anymore.” I stared into Carter’s calm, emotionless eyes. My voice was completely hoarse. “You know exactly how much I sacrificed to get pregnant with this child. You know how desperately I needed this baby. Why?” “Why are you doing this to me?” My voice was barely a whisper. Carter’s pupils trembled for a fraction of a second before hardening back into cold indifference. “We can always have another child. We can try again.” “But Chloe can’t lose her father again.” I let out a broken, hollow laugh. I lost all strength to argue. This was the eighth year since I lost my daughter. It was the ninth month of carrying my new baby. For eight long years, there wasn’t a single second where I didn’t pray to the universe to give me a second chance. I promised I would protect this tiny new life with everything I had. I swore I would never let her get hurt. But I never even got to see her face. Before I could even process what was happening, the suspect—Frank—was released from the holding cell. Walking out into the lobby, the heavy-set man gave Carter a sycophantic, greasy smile. “You’re a reasonable man, Mr. Vance. This whole thing was just a big misunderstanding. Honestly, maybe your wife is just cursed to be barren. No matter how hard she tries, she just can’t keep a kid.” “But hey, no worries! My daughter is currently carrying your seed, right? Twins, too! Now that’s what I call a real blessing.” I couldn’t even stand up straight. This man standing in front of me had destroyed my life twice. And now, he had the absolute audacity to stand here and mock me. I lost all control. I hurled the cell phone in my hand directly at his face. Frank didn’t dodge. The heavy phone smacked squarely into the bridge of his nose, and blood instantly gushed out. Almost simultaneously, Chloe let out a delicate, terrified shriek. “Why are you hitting my dad?! He was legally released! They proved he did nothing wrong! What gives you the right to attack him?!” She aggressively snatched my phone off the floor and hurled it right back at my head. I didn’t hesitate. I tilted my head to dodge it, and my eyes locked directly with Carter’s. His brow was deeply furrowed, his eyes filled with absolute disgust toward me. Seeing that the phone missed me, Chloe was visibly upset. She stomped her foot and rushed up to me, crying hysterically. “I know you’re not going to let this go! You’re still holding a grudge against my dad!” “Aren’t you just mad that my dad accidentally made you miscarry? Fine! I’ll make it up to you! Beat me until I miscarry right now! I have two babies in my belly—if I pay you back with two lives for your one, will that be enough?!” She grabbed my hand and forcefully yanked it toward her own face. I didn’t even move a muscle, but she violently threw herself backward, screaming as she crashed onto the hard floor. Before I could even blink, Carter shoved past me. He scooped Chloe up into his arms, turning back to glare at me with eyes full of pure rage. “Evelyn, do you have any idea that assault is a felony?!” “For years, my heart broke for you over losing Lily. I tolerated your manic episodes and put up with your irrational tantrums because I pitied you.” “But that doesn’t give you the right to do whatever you want!” “If anything happens to Chloe or the babies, I swear to God I will not let you get away with this.” He turned and carried her out. Frank jogged obediently behind them. Nestled in Carter’s arms, Chloe shot me a look of pure, triumphant malice over his shoulder. Meeting her gaze, I thought I should be furious. I should be screaming. Just like I had been for the past eight years. But for some reason, in this exact moment, my heart was nothing but a desolate, dead wasteland. Suddenly, I just felt incredibly tired. 2 I stumbled out of the precinct, my steps uneven and heavy. My emotional state was terrifyingly calm. I hadn’t even made it home when Carter called me. “Chloe is an emotional wreck. I need you to come here and apologize to her. Promise her you won’t pull a stunt like that ever again.” “I’ll text you the address. I’m sending a driver to pick you up.” Carter’s voice was dead serious, driving needles directly into my heart. I couldn’t stop my body from trembling. “Apologize? What exactly did I do wrong?” His tone grew impatient. “Now is not the time to argue about who is right and wrong. Chloe is young. She gets scared easily, she’s pregnant with twins, and her hormones are all over the place.” “She just wants you to admit you were wrong and give her some peace of mind. You’ve been pregnant before. You should have some empathy for how she’s feeling right now.” I let out a cold, bitter laugh. “Carter, I would rather die than apologize to the daughter of a murderer.” The line went silent for a few seconds. When he spoke again, his voice was like ice. “Evelyn, are you deliberately forcing my hand?” Immediately after, I heard Chloe’s devastating, hysterical crying in the background. “Even if Evelyn hates me, she shouldn’t insult me like that!” “I was bullied my entire childhood because my dad was in prison! It’s my deepest trauma! How could she use that against me?!” I was so furious my vision blurred. My lower abdomen, still healing from the recent miscarriage, throbbed with a dull, sickening pain. I was about to scream back when the line suddenly went dead. I instinctively looked at my screen. My phone had died. Unable to call an Uber, I had to slowly, painfully drag myself all the way back to our house. At the front door, a mountain of newly delivered packages covered the porch. They were all the baby clothes and toys I had meticulously prepared for the new life I was supposed to bring into this world. Now, they felt like a cruel, mocking joke. Shutterstock Inside, the house was filled with the remnants of my sixteen-year marriage to Carter. There was no denying that once upon a time, Carter had loved me with every fiber of his being. Even when I fell into severe clinical depression after Lily died, he never complained. He patiently drove me to every psychiatrist in the state. About two years ago, I finally started to heal and wanted to look toward the future again. Because my body had suffered from the trauma, getting pregnant naturally was nearly impossible. I went through grueling cycles of IVF hormone injections and embryo transfers to prepare my body. In the beginning, Carter supported me without a single complaint. He found the best fertility clinics and hired the top specialists. But cycle after cycle failed, and I suffered multiple mental breakdowns. It was Carter who held me, comforted me, and promised me: “No matter what happens, I will always be right here with you.” Until I finally, miraculously got pregnant. I would never forget how ecstatic I was. I cried and thanked God over and over for giving my baby back to me. But it was a high-risk pregnancy. To ensure the baby survived, I gave up my career and my entire social life, staying on bed rest, guarding this tiny life with everything I had. I was just one week away from finally seeing her. And then, the “accident” happened. I collapsed onto the living room sofa. The massive, empty house hadn’t felt like a home in a very long time. When exactly did things start going wrong? Six months ago, I slipped in the bathroom, and I started spotting. It was my first major scare. In a blind panic, I called Carter. But the person who rushed through the door to take me to the ER was his executive assistant. After a terrifying night in the hospital, the doctors managed to stabilize the pregnancy. Carter didn’t show up until dawn. He smelled faintly of a women’s perfume. He told me: “There was a massive crisis with the new project. I’m so sorry.” I believed him. Five months ago, an anomaly showed up on an anatomy scan. I had a complete breakdown and called him frantically, but he didn’t pick up. I agonized for an entire sleepless night until noon the next day. When Carter finally answered, his voice was groggy. He had clearly just woken up. “Honey, don’t worry. We hired the best doctors. They won’t let anything happen to you.” There were so many other moments. Too many to count. Tears spilled over my eyelashes, falling drop by drop onto my hands. But why, out of all the women in the world, did it have to be his daughter? Carter knew better than anyone how much agony I went through when Lily died. I tried to end my own life multiple times. It was his love that kept me anchored to this earth. And now? I hugged my knees to my chest, the physical and emotional pain tearing me apart from the inside. Before I could even process my grief, the front door was violently kicked open. Carter stood in the doorway, his face twisted in absolute fury. “Why the hell did you hang up on me?!” “Do you know Chloe almost jumped off a balcony because of what you said?! You almost killed three people today, do you understand that?!” 3 I stared coldly directly into his eyes. “And?” “Tell me exactly which part of what I said was a lie.” Carter’s eyes darkened. He let out an exasperated, furious sigh. “Why can’t you just be a little more forgiving? Have some basic human decency! Is it really that hard to just say ‘I’m sorry’? Why did you have to escalate things to this point?!” Carter was practically shouting, totally losing control of his temper. I took several deep breaths, fighting through the heavy, dragging pain in my lower pelvis. My voice came out weak but sharp. “Carter. So she really is pregnant with your children?” He went dead silent. I let out a mocking laugh. “You cheat on me while I’m pregnant, get your mistress pregnant with twins, and now you have the sheer audacity to stand in my house and demand to know why I won’t apologize to her? Carter, do you not hear how absolutely psychotic you sound?” He didn’t look away. He stared right back at me without a shred of guilt. “Yes. I admit it. Those are my kids.” “I was slipped something at a corporate dinner by a rival firm. It was a setup to ruin me. If I had lost control, my entire career would have been destroyed.” “At first, I fought it. I held onto my sanity and told myself I couldn’t betray you. I called you, I texted you, I just wanted to hear your voice to ground myself! And what did you do?” “You got annoyed. You said you needed your sleep for the baby, and you hung up on me.” “If Chloe hadn’t miraculously been there… if she hadn’t sacrificed her own purity to save me, everything I own today would be gone!” Carter’s eyes were practically glowing with self-righteous justification. “The twins were an accident. But Chloe saved my life, and I owe her. I will not abandon her.” He stopped talking. I stared at him for a second, and then I just started laughing. It was true. At that time, I was on strict bed rest. I was so terrified of losing the baby that I shut out everything else in the world. I guess I ignored his needs. I didn’t see his “pain.” Looking at Carter, I suddenly felt incredibly exhausted. Suppressing his anger, he continued: “Evelyn, it’s not that I don’t love you anymore. It’s just… after all these years, I’m just so… tired.” He crouched down, grabbing his hair in frustration. “I am so fucking tired, Evelyn.” “You lost Lily, and you’ve been depressed for eight years. I stayed by your side. I stayed devoted to you. Every time you broke down, every time you tried to kill yourself and made a massive public scene, my heart broke for you.” “But I forgot what happiness actually felt like. I was just numbly keeping you alive.” “Until I met Chloe…” When he said her name, a genuine, undeniable look of peace and happiness washed over his face. In that fraction of a second, I finally understood. There was no going back. In his mind, I was the anchor of his misery. And Chloe was his fresh, shiny new happiness. He was never going to choose me again. I looked at the face of the man who had pulled me out of the abyss so many times, and I finally let it go. If the future was only going to be darkness, then it was time to end it here. “Carter. Let’s get a divorce.” “I hope you’re happy. I really mean that.” 4 Carter rejected it without a second of hesitation. “Evelyn, we are not getting a divorce.” “All you have to do is go apologize. Once Chloe cools down, I won’t hold this against you, and I will love you just as much as I always have.” “Don’t worry. What belongs to you, I won’t give to anyone else.” He said it with such absolute certainty, and it was the most repulsive thing I had ever heard. “One wife at home, and a family on the side? Carter, how does that not make you want to vomit?” He swallowed his irritation and was about to argue when his phone started ringing frantically. It was Chloe. Through the speaker, the young girl was sobbing heavily, her voice choked with tears as she apologized: “It’s my fault, Carter. I shouldn’t have made things difficult for you, and I shouldn’t have forced Evelyn to apologize.” “Maybe our meeting was a tragedy from the very beginning. I shouldn’t have asked for so much. But I’m a traditional girl. Since my body is ruined and I can’t have a normal family, I don’t have the face to keep living.” “Carter… if there is a next life, I hope I meet you earlier. And I hope I don’t have such a shameful family background. I just want to love you, cleanly, just once.” The call abruptly disconnected. Carter looked like he was going to lose his mind. He grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the door, screaming at me as we moved. “All it took was one apology! Just one! But you had to push her to the brink of death!” “Evelyn, you better pray to God she is okay, otherwise…” I didn’t hear the rest of his threat. He shoved me into his car and sped through the city streets like a maniac. My consciousness was starting to blur. I felt a warm, thick fluid pooling beneath me, gushing out in waves. The internal injuries from the car crash hadn’t healed at all. I had forced myself out of the hospital on sheer adrenaline, desperate to seek justice. But now, my body was giving out. The pain became so blinding that it eventually turned to numbness. Carter was yelling the entire drive, but all I could see were his bloodshot, manic eyes. When we finally arrived at the hospital, he violently yanked me out of the passenger seat. He didn’t even look at me. He just dragged me down the sterile hallways. Walking faster and faster. Feeling my mind slipping away into the dark, I used the very last ounce of strength I had to beg him: “Carter… I can’t hold on… please… slow down.” “I’m really dying.” He didn’t stop. He walked even faster. I was only moving forward because his grip on my arm was dragging my dead weight. I lost count of how many times my knees gave out and hit the floor, only for Carter to violently yank me back up. Finally, we reached Chloe’s hospital room. The fluorescent lights were blinding, but my vision was completely black around the edges. Carter’s voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. “Apologize. Just apologize, and everything will be fine.” Will everything be fine? The question echoed in my decaying mind. If I apologized… would everything I lost come back? My beautiful Lily? The baby that was torn from my womb? The beautiful life I used to have? Would any of it come back? I opened my mouth, and slowly, agonizingly, I spoke. “I’m sorry.” I heard Chloe’s voice instantly lighten up. “Actually, I wasn’t trying to make things hard for you, Evelyn. I just wanted some basic respect.” “I didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t be judged. I’ve suffered so much unfair discrimination because of my dad’s past.” “So I just wanted justice.” “Since you apologized, I forgive you. It’s not a big deal.” As Chloe’s words faded, my consciousness completely collapsed. Everything that disgusted me, everything that made me sick to my stomach, everything that caused me agony… it all faded into perfect peace, turning to dust in the void. Memories flashed before my eyes like a movie reel. And it was all Carter’s face. Further back… further back… it was the three of us. Our family, holding hands, laughing in the sun. I reached out desperately, trying to grab those memories, praying I could stay in that moment forever. But in the end, there was only silence. Forget it. It ends here. All the love, all the hate. Let it all end. I closed my eyes and sank into the heavy dark. 5 “Evelyn, I just asked you to apologize! What kind of stunt are you pulling now?!” Seeing me collapse motionlessly onto the floor, Carter frowned, his eyes filled with absolute impatience. “I told you, if you just apologized, I would drop it! Chloe isn’t even mad anymore, do you really want to make her upset again?!” “Evelyn, what is the point of this? Can you stop disappointing me?!” He kept rambling, every word a bitter complaint. But my body on the floor didn’t react. He sighed heavily. From the hospital bed, Chloe immediately turned on the waterworks. “So she didn’t mean the apology at all! I should have known! She’s looked down on me from the very beginning, why would she suddenly give in? She’s just trying to frame me!” “When people hear about this, they’re going to say I bullied her until she passed out.” “Carter, just go take care of her. Don’t worry about me.” “I’ve always been completely alone anyway.” Chloe’s tears fell so perfectly, and Carter’s eyes practically melted with heartbreak. “She’s faking it! Don’t blame yourself, she is completely fine.” “I’ve dealt with her hypochondria for eight years, you think I don’t know her? Her ‘depression’ is just a pathetic excuse to run away from the fact that she failed to protect her own daughter.” “Chloe, I promise you, as long as I’m here, I will never let anyone hurt you again. Don’t be scared…” Carter pulled Chloe tightly into his chest, not sparing a single glance for my body lying near the doorway. Even though my soul had already left my body, even though my heart was completely empty, hearing those words sent a violent, agonizing tremor through my ghost. He was right. For years and years, I blamed myself. I blamed myself for failing to protect my baby girl. I blamed myself for taking that specific route home that day. I blamed myself for not throwing my body in front of the truck to save her. It was Lily’s sixth birthday. Carter hadn’t gotten off work yet, so I was taking Lily to the restaurant we had booked. Even now, every detail of that day was permanently burned into my soul. Lily was holding my hand, skipping happily down the sidewalk. “Mommy, can we go to Daddy’s office and surprise him?!” “I’ve never seen Daddy’s office! I really miss him, I want to see him right now!” I thought about it, smiled, and agreed. Because of that split-second decision, we took a detour. Less than 500 feet from Carter’s office building… A massive commercial truck, speeding out of control, barreled directly into the crosswalk. Everything happened in excruciatingly slow motion. I really did blame myself. For eight years, every time I closed my eyes, my brain replayed the scene. I constantly tortured myself, thinking: If I had just reacted a second faster… if I had just pushed her a little harder… If I hadn’t made that stupid, spontaneous decision, everything would be different. Lily was lying on the asphalt. She was covered in blood. Her eyes were open, and the very last thing she ever said to me was: “Mommy… do I still get to have my birthday?” Those words became the eternal nightmare of my life. Carter was right. I desperately wanted to escape. I couldn’t accept the brutal reality, which was why I tried to follow her to the grave so many times. But back then, he was the one who stubbornly stayed by my side! How could he use that trauma as a weapon to attack me now?! My phantom heart felt like it was being ripped apart. On the hospital bed, Carter was still gently stroking Chloe’s hair. Until a passing nurse let out a blood-curdling scream. “Oh my god, look at all this blood! We need help! Bring a gurney, NOW!” “The patient is completely unresponsive, HURRY!” The sheer panic in the nurse’s voice finally snapped Carter out of his trance. He looked down at me on the floor, a rare flicker of panic crossing his eyes. “What blood? What’s wrong with her?” He stood up and walked toward me, step by step, until he saw the massive pool of crimson spreading across the white tiles. Carter froze for a few seconds. He stumbled back, before crashing to his knees beside me. “Evelyn! Wake up! What happened to you?!” He grabbed my waist. The blood soaked instantly into his expensive shirt. Behind him, Chloe let out a terrified shriek. “Blood! I can’t look at blood! Carter, please come protect me, I’m so scared! I’m so scared!” Carter’s body violently flinched. The trauma team rushed in with a gurney. “Are you the husband?! Follow us! The patient is in critical condition, she’s crashing!” My body was hoisted onto the gurney. The doctors and nurses sprinted down the hall. Carter scrambled to his feet to follow them. But from the bed, Chloe’s crying grew louder. “It’s fine. I’ve always been the one left behind. When I was a kid, and now. People like me don’t deserve to be chosen.” “When I sacrificed my purity to save you, you did the exact same thing! You had just brutally taken my innocence, I was half-dead in that hotel bed, and the second Evelyn called and said her stomach hurt, you abandoned me in the middle of the night.” “And now… as long as Evelyn needs you, I will always be thrown away like trash.” “I’m so cheap. I never deserved your love. It’s fine, I finally see the truth. Carter… I overestimated your love for me. It ends here. Goodbye.” She struggled out of the hospital bed and ran out of the room, sobbing blindly. Carter froze in his tracks. He hesitated for exactly one second. Then, he turned his back to the trauma team and sprinted after Chloe. He completely ignored the shouting doctors. He caught up to Chloe and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I won’t leave you.” “No matter what happens, I will never leave you behind again.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391312”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel