The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, Ethan Blackwood asked me to go on a divorce reality show with him. I knew he had lost another bet with his little secretary. They had made ninety-nine bets in total, and every single time, he deliberately threw the game, letting himself lose. He lost the house we decorated together, lost our wedding. He even lost the child we created together. Ethan let Chloe perform the abortion herself, just to satisfy her curiosity about the human body. When the seven-month-old baby was aborted, I hemorrhaged and almost died on the operating table. The man handed me the contract for the show. “Ava, I lost another bet. It’s just a reality show, humor Chloe.” “It’s also a good opportunity to boost your popularity, make it easier to get roles later.” Ethan forgot that the last time he lost to Chloe, he signed me up for ten explicit films. Afterward, he promised, “I won’t let any photos of you leak out.” But the next day, a video of me completely naked broke the internet. And I was blacklisted by the entire industry, no director would hire me anymore. Calmly taking the contract and signing it, Ethan kissed my forehead in satisfaction. “Remember to choose ‘not divorcing’ in the final question, we get off together at the end of the journey.” He didn’t know, we wouldn’t make it to the end. … After putting away the contract, the call from the funeral home came. The man, who was always looking down at his phone, heard the vague words and looked up at me. “Who died?” I hung up the phone and casually replied, “A distant relative.” He said “Oh,” looked back down at his phone, and walked straight out. Forgetting to wait for me, as always. I didn’t mind and followed him. Just as I opened the car door, someone held my hand down. Ethan pointed to the car behind, “Ava, you drive yourself to the filming location first, I still need to deliver breakfast to Chloe.” I was stunned, then quickly took my hand back. Softly said, “Okay.” Seeing that I didn’t argue with him like before. He rarely showed me a gentle smile, “Remember to eat something yourself, you’re too skinny.” My eyes fell on the breakfast spread out in the back seat of his car, all kinds, more than ten varieties. Still steaming, I guess he bought them himself early in the morning. I withdrew my gaze, remembering when my stomach problems acted up, I begged him to buy me a cup of hot soy milk. He just gave me a cold look and handed me a bottle of milk, “I don’t have time, you drink the milk first.” After speaking, he rushed out the door. He forgot I was allergic to milk, the milk at home was prepared for him. He always never came home, the milk had long expired. Coming back to my senses, the car had already sped away. When I arrived at the recording scene, everyone looked at me with strange eyes. I didn’t care, quietly waiting aside. Just other guests had already finished recording the pre-interview, Ethan hasn’t arrived yet. The director urged me to contact him, took out the phone only to find that I had long been blocked. The last time he lost the bet to Chloe, was to delete all my contact information. I silently took back the phone, smiled apologetically at the director, “Sorry, I don’t have his contact information.” The people present whispered. “Did she sign up on her own initiative, Mr. Blackwood didn’t want to accompany her to the show at all.” “She made so many explicit films behind Mr. Blackwood’s back, been with so many men, it’s good enough that Mr. Blackwood didn’t divorce her, how does she still have the face to go on the divorce show…” The director is Ethan’s good friend, knows the inside story. Hearing such words, just slightly stunned, did not stop. I waited until dark, all the guests have gone back to the hotel to rest, I still sit in the recording studio. The cold wind blew through the window rustling, covering the mouth can not help coughing. The palm contaminated with bloodshot, just wiped off, someone walked in outside the door. The man heard my coughing sound, put the jacket on me. “Sorry, I’m late, the company suddenly has urgent matters to deal with.” But I smelled the strong scent of crabapple flowers on his coat. Chloe likes to take a bath with crabapple flowers, Ethan built a ten-acre crabapple flower base for her. Flowers that should grow in spring, can also bloom in winter. Seeing the rash on his neck, I moved my gaze away without a trace. Ethan is allergic to pollen, the most serious time, once in front of me shock on the spot. I cried and made trouble, begged him not to ignore his own body for Chloe. In exchange for only his cold eyes, “Don’t be meddlesome.” Pinching the bloody paper ball in his hand, took off the clothes on his body. I hate this smell, he knows. My mother died under the crabapple tree where she and my father made their vows, that day my mother saw my father cheating. When passionate love, he gave me flowers, always carefully told the florist, no crabapple. Also once swore in front of me, never let down. Just, flowers will wither, people’s hearts change easily. The boy who once loved me met the girl he loved more. The camera crew quickly notified the backup, Ethan still looked down at the phone, revealing a spoiling smile. Everyone tacitly did not disturb. Only I like playing a one-man show, alone answering the director’s sharp questions one by one. This is not difficult for me, just acting. Just take this as the last play I perform in the world. The last link, the director handed us a note. Asked the last question, “Do you still want a divorce today?” The man suddenly looked up, put away the phone, took the note. When looking at me, I have already put the note into the box. He also followed the note thrown in. Joked to the director: “So mysterious, have to wait until the last day of recording to open?” Confidently look at me, “We won’t divorce.” After speaking, he stood up for me to drag the luggage into the hotel. Only just to the door, his phone ringtone rang. Ethan immediately hooked his lips, walked aside, picked up the phone. I struggled to move the suitcase up the steps. When he came back, I subconsciously handed him his pajamas. The man shook his head, did not pick up. Chuckled: “Bet with Chloe and lost again, she doesn’t let us sleep together these seven days.” My hand suspended in mid-air. If it was before, I would definitely have a big fight with him again. Just, I now even breathing is fast running out of strength. There is no extra energy to argue with him. Took back my hand, lay on the bed. “Then suit yourself, I’m tired, sleep first.” Ethan’s attention had long returned to the phone, did not hear clearly what I was saying. The next day, the man’s wrist, more a pink hair tie. The lipstick mark on his shirt also showed that he left overnight last night. Ethan subconsciously rubbed the hair tie on his hand, let me can’t help but think of, A few years ago when it was popular to give boyfriends hair ties, I also vulgarly put my own hair tie on Ethan’s hand. The man in front of my face, threw my carefully selected hair tie into the trash can. Undisguised dislike me childish: “You are fast running to thirty, don’t play this kind of little girl’s game.” I scrutinized the words on the hair tie, that “Chloe” word is extraordinarily dazzling. Ethan does not remember, Chloe is still a year older than me. Now he is happily accompanying Chloe to play little girl’s games. “Went to buy breakfast early in the morning, let’s eat some together.” This is the first time Ethan bought breakfast for me since marriage. Even if it’s just to cover up his excuse for leaving at night. And since Chloe appeared, bringing her breakfast became Ethan’s habit. He still handed me a glass of milk. I told him many times, he did not remember that I can not drink milk. And Chloe’s preferences, just casually mentioned, he attentively recorded in the memo. I accidentally saw, densely packed, meticulous. Picked up the xiaolongbao, but was slapped away by his palm. The back of the hand immediately pan up dark red marks. Ethan pushed the porridge to me, “This is for you.” I suddenly remembered, just saw Chloe’s moments. The girl’s tone is charming, “Really want to eat hot buns woo woo.” Thought of this, everything is clear. Can’t help but speak to remind, “Today to go out to record the program.” The man has already carried the food box to go out. Snowflakes floated outside the door, laughing at himself in self-mockery. When he went to find Chloe, always rain or shine. And when I was filming and encountered a mudslide, panicked called him. He only felt that I was hypocritical, immediately hung up the phone. Afterwards sent me disaster relief supplies, also sent to the wrong place. I almost died in that mudslide disaster, and he was accompanying Chloe to check in the amusement park. Love and not love so obvious. Partial I almost die, only see clearly. I forced the porridge into my mouth. The porridge was long cold, and that steamer of xiaolongbao was still steaming. Must be he carefully protected in his arms, so that the xiaolongbao did not cool down so fast. I know this so clearly because I also had such a snowy day, Carefully holding the xiaolongbao downstairs in the dormitory waiting for him. He loved others in the way I loved him, only appear I ridiculous and sad. It is received the director’s notice, know Ethan want to be absent four days of program recording. And I need to with another three pairs of couples, continue recording. For four consecutive days, I like an invisible person, recorded by the camera. No one is willing to talk to a notorious porn star. And every day, Chloe’s moments are very lively. Ethan accompanied her to Mohe skiing. Go to Bali for vacation. Go to Santa Claus Village to see the aurora. I was tortured by illness and unable to focus on thinking, long after the aftertaste came over. Originally the place they went, is the honeymoon route I and Ethan set very early before. Finger suspended on the screen for a long time, until the nosebleed dripping submerged the photo of the two under the aurora. I was flustered with a tissue to wipe off, but accidentally click a like. Soon, four days without contact man with a strange number, called. The man’s voice was somewhat nervous, “Ava, it’s Chloe’s birthday, I accompanied her abroad for vacation.” I wiped off the nosebleed, hoarse voice said it doesn’t matter. Ethan’s voice gentle up, “Ava, recorded variety show, I and Chloe’s one hundred betting contract also completed.” “Wait to go back, I properly accompany you to celebrate anniversary.” Finished, behind him came the girl urging voice, “Brother Ethan, want to set off fireworks!” The man immediately hung up the phone. I stared blankly at the schedule message popped up on the phone, tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of me and Ethan together. And the life of the final deadline, also left a few days. Originally and Ethan together days, fast occupied half of my life. The next day, Ethan unexpectedly did not miss the appointment, on time appeared at the shooting scene. I changed into the goose yellow dress worn when just together, but took off the ring worn for a long time. Actually the ring long ago inappropriate, is I always not willing to take off. Out of the room, Ethan looked at me for a long time lost in thought, then smiling walk over to hold my hand. “Ava, you are too thin, eat more rice.” Just like when young, he clipped the only few slices of meat in the bowl to me, gently touching my head, “Ava, eat more meat.” My heart was moved, Chloe’s untimely voice sounded behind him. “Ava sister you are somehow a female star, how wear nondescript, give brother Ethan shame.” She looked up and down at my dress, can not help but puff a sound. Ethan only pettingly nodded her forehead, looked at me. “Chloe today with us to go to the jungle adventure.” Chloe raised her chin, proudly said, “What adventure, I am now your production director!” “You better behave obediently, otherwise I will definitely let the cameraman brother shoot you ugly.” Ethan not angry but laugh, full of promise. When getting on the car, Chloe sat in the driver’s seat. Provocatively smile at me: “Sorry ah Ava sister, I carsick, aggrieved you sit in the back咯.” I did not say anything, straight sit to the back seat. Two people along the way chatting about what they saw and heard during travel, I quietly closed my eyes to rest. Only the man through the rearview mirror, frequently look towards me. Chloe saw, suddenly “ouch” a sound. Ethan slammed on the brakes, nervous way: “Chloe, what’s wrong?” Chloe covered her own stomach, “Brother Ethan my stomach hurts ah!” Ethan turned his head to look at me, “You get off, I first send Chloe to the hospital.” I looked at the snow-covered wilderness, Ethan in accordance with Chloe’s route into another road. Behind the camera crew did not keep up. “Take me back together.” Chloe was anxious way: “That how can line, how can let Ava sister for me delay shooting.” Saying, tightly frowning cry pain. Ethan almost lost reason like, drag me out of the car. “They soon keep up, you wait here first, Chloe she body weak, cold weather, can not stand.” When the car left, I almost want to stand unstable. The snow is getting bigger and bigger, I waited for three whole hours, side bloody paper ball more and more. Until I fast hypothermia fainted past, a familiar figure rushed towards me. “Ava!” On the medical car of the program group, woke up, Chloe muttering on the side, “All blame me too stupid, unexpectedly pointed the wrong way.” “Ava sister won’t blame me right.” Ethan embrace her, gently coaxed way: “No.” Beside the doctor hesitant to speak, I shook my head at her. Only rested for an hour, the director remind continue recording. This time, the camera crew directly sent us into the jungle. Chloe make noise want to be together. Snow diffuse over the ankle, I subconsciously look towards Ethan. Before when snowing, he afraid my shoes wet, always carry me go. Nowadays, he did not hesitate to carry Chloe. Walked a section of road, only to find that I fell behind. Seeing my increasingly bloodless face, mouth open and open, pale explanation, “Chloe she body uncomfortable.” I did not answer, muffled head walk forward. All the way silent, fast to the destination, Chloe make noise want to roast fire. Ethan put her carefully down, to pick up wood. Chloe glanced at the camera behind, close to in front of me. “Ava, did Brother Ethan tell you, he won’t divorce you?” “He is lying to you, his every note, written all are divorce.” “Know why?” She narrowed her eyes, eyes pride almost hide不住. Stroking her own lower abdomen, “Because I conceived his child, he want the whole world witness you divorce, then grandly marry me enter the door.” Somehow, long numb heart at this moment rapid beating up. And Chloe is still continue, “He simply don’t care about the bastard in your belly, otherwise won’t let you abort.” “Tsk tsk, you don’t know, when come out, all purple…” I violently spit out a mouthful of blood, in all people haven’t reacted over when, deadly pinch Chloe’s neck. “Slut, you return my child’s life, return my child’s life come!” Twisting, my face was ruthless pumping a slap. Then thrown out. Chloe screaming: “Brother Ethan save life, Ava sister want to beat me to death!” “Ah, my lower body bleeding, our child is not can not keep?” I rolled down the hillside. Looking up, the man condescending looking at me. Face full of haze. “Ava, Chloe and child if something happens, I will never let you go.” Saying, he picked up Chloe turn head to go. Only leave a sentence, “Let her properly reflect below, who also not allowed to pull her up!” Director hesitant way: “Ethan, weather too cold, down the mountain still have wild wolves haunt…” Haven’t waited for him to finish, Ethan coldly interrupted him, “She all dare to shot hurt people, still afraid wild wolves?” “Your people immediately evacuate, who dare save her, I just stop all investment.” Throat a rush of sweet surge up, I violently spit out a mouthful of blood come. Call stop angry man, “Ethan Blackwood.” The man footsteps paused, eventually still did not turn back. Also did not hear my last sigh, “Ethan Blackwood, happy tenth anniversary.” Snow covered my body, really good, I will never pain again… The next morning, Ethan drove alone to the end of the journey. There, will the whole network live the final result. As long as both sides get off, is choose continue to be together. When passing a funeral vehicle, Ethan heart rise uneasy come. He last night already explain assistant, go to bring people back. But morning wake up, he didn’t see my figure. Only when I leave ahead. He waited at the end for a long time, finally a car stop in front of him when, he face full of joy to meet up. But wait for him to see clearly people down the car, but stunned in place. At the same time, assistant flustered rush in, “Not good president, accident!” And the radio inside the car, suddenly insert broadcast a section farewell poem. Woman voice soft, “Dear fans friends, when you hear this paragraph, I have left this world…” Director almost trembling, pass the note inside the box to Ethan. “Ava she, every time tick all are——” “Divorce.” Assistant face flustered to extreme point, “President, we press your orders to pick up madam back, but find a night, haven’t find madam.” Ethan to these followed one after another news, slightest didn’t any reaction. He stunned in place, attentively listening to the radio inside woman voice. Fingers tightly clench become fist, scarlet eyes, a pair unbelievable look. Director and assistant also already react over. “Radio inside voice, good, seems to be madam.” Ethan immediately loud refute, “Not her, you give me shut up!” I floating in mid-air, calmly looking at him. Original he know my death news when, is such emotion. I still thought, he would be happy. Because he finally can get rid of me, marry Chloe. Ethan pinching those few notes, repeatedly confirm. He look towards director, “How can?” “She so love me, how can divorce with me?” I float to in front of him, want to confirm he this moment sad, is not true. He look indeed very sad. But he if now will for my divorce choice sad words, last night how will discard me in snowy jungle.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391095”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

An hour before my wedding, I stumbled upon an anonymous post. [Let’s talk about my sister’s ‘Repayment’ Wedding: The groom says marrying her is just paying a debt, his true love is the younger sister.] The main post was a photo: in the reflection of a hotel vanity mirror, the profile of a figure in a wedding dress bore a striking resemblance to me. The caption read: [Is there anything more thrilling than swapping the bride on the wedding day?] My fingers trembled as I zoomed in. On the vanity, clear as day, was the iris brooch I had personally chosen for my bridesmaid. Hundreds of comments had already flooded the post. In the latest reply, the original poster had attached a close-up of two hands holding. The man’s ring finger bore a familiar old scar, identical to the one my fiancé, Julian, had from a car accident. When someone pressed for details, the poster simply replied: [My sister spent ten years helping him build his company. He says this marriage is just repayment. But tonight, I will be the one looking into his eyes and saying: I do.] A knock came at the door. Sophie entered, holding the hem of her dress. She leaned in close, her voice sweet as honey in my ear. “Sis, the ceremony is about to start. Look, don’t you think my brooch is pretty?” 1 I forced a smile. “Yes, it’s beautiful.” She took my arm, giggling. “You’re the beautiful one, sis. You’re the most beautiful bride today. We should hurry, don’t want to keep the groom waiting.” I took a deep breath and pushed open the side door of the chapel. Soft music played, and the pews were filled with guests. Julian stood at the altar, his back ramrod straight. The officiant approached me, beaming. “Miss Reed, there’s a small last-minute adjustment to the program. Did you see the note?” I took the paper he handed me. In the original schedule, the bridesmaid was only supposed to hand over the rings. Now, a handwritten line had been added: “Bridesmaid’s speech (2 minutes).” The elegant script was familiar. “Who added this?” I asked. The officiant lowered his voice. “Mr. Lewis specifically requested it this morning. He said he wanted to add a more personal touch. Your sister must be a wonderful writer; he praised her draft several times.” I gripped the edge of the paper. “I don’t approve this part of the program.” “Well… it might be too late to change it now. The guests are all waiting,” the officiant said, looking troubled as he glanced towards the altar. Julian turned his head then, his eyes meeting mine. He gave me a slight nod, his lips pulling into a strained smile. I said nothing more and walked to my reserved seat in the front row. My mother pulled me down beside her, whispering, “Sophie prepared a little speech. She wants to thank you for taking care of her all these years. Such a thoughtful girl.” Just then, the music changed. The officiant’s voice boomed through the microphone. “And now, let us welcome the bride’s sister and today’s bridesmaid, Miss Sophie Reed, to offer her blessings.” Applause rippled through the room. Sophie took the microphone, her gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally landing on Julian. “Thank you, everyone. Today is my sister’s most important day. As her sister, I should be offering words of celebration.” She paused, her fingers gently stroking the microphone. “But I’ve realized, if I don’t say some things today, I might never have the chance.” A low murmur went through the guests. Julian’s body tensed. Sophie’s voice began to tremble. “For years, I’ve watched my sister and Julian on their journey together. I know how much my sister has given, and I also know… that some feelings were misplaced from the very beginning.” She lifted her eyes, staring directly at Julian. The spotlight caught the glint of tears in her eyes. Her voice was choked but clear as she spoke, word by word. “Some love is destined to cross boundaries. Even if it means being condemned by the world, you can’t pretend it doesn’t exist.” A dead silence fell over the chapel, followed by a rising tide of whispers. “What does she mean by that?” “Oh my god, is she confessing her love?” “The bride is sitting right there!” My mother gripped my hand tightly. “What is Sophie talking about!” I pulled my hand away, my eyes fixed on the stage. All the color had drained from Julian’s face. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Sophie continued, “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t control it. Julian, I…” Julian didn’t stop her. He just stared at her. The officiant hurried forward, trying to smooth things over. “The bridesmaid seems a bit emotional! We understand this deep sisterly bond! And now, let us…” I didn’t hear the rest. My gaze was locked on the hand hanging at Julian’s side. The scar—its position, its shape—was identical to the hand in the photo. My phone vibrated in my palm. I looked down. The screen was lit up with the latest reply on the anonymous post. The poster had uploaded a new picture. It was a close-up of a man’s hand, the one with the scar. In the corner of the frame, another hand was gently sliding a platinum wedding band into view. I looked back up at Julian’s hand. The wedding ring he was supposed to give me… it was the same one from the photo. 2 The ceremony ended in a hurried, awkward mess under the curious stares of the guests. My mother tried to talk to me, but I shook her off and went straight to the private lounge on the second floor. The door was unlocked. Julian was standing by the window. He turned when he heard me enter. He spoke first, his voice low and hoarse. “Victoria, about today… I’m sorry.” “When did it start?” I asked. Julian’s jaw worked. He didn’t deny it. He just said my name again. “Victoria, we’ve known each other for ten years.” “And?” “And so…” He looked up, a kind of defeated exhaustion in his eyes. “So I can’t lie to you anymore. And I can’t lie to myself.” The air conditioning was blasting. I felt a chill spread through me. “Explain.” Julian took a deep breath. “For you, it’s always been gratitude. You were with me when the company was at its lowest. Those proposals, those clients… without you, there would be no Julian Lewis today.” His fingers unconsciously rubbed the ring on his finger. “But gratitude isn’t love.” My own voice sounded unnervingly calm. “Is that your excuse for cheating on me? Love is love, not loving someone is not loving them. But what was the point of this whole spectacle at our wedding? Did you enjoy watching me be humiliated?” He didn’t answer right away. But sometimes, silence is the answer. He finally said it. “All these years, the person I’ve really wanted to marry has always been Sophie.” “When did it start?” Julian looked away. “Three years ago. When you went to Austin for that project. I got drunk, she came to take care of me… and it never stopped after that.” Three years ago. I did the math. That was when I had landed his first ten-million-dollar contract. I had pulled four all-nighters in Austin while he was on the phone telling me, “You’re working so hard, darling,” before getting into bed with my sister. What a joke. “Did you know she was going to confess her love to you at the wedding?” “It was Sophie’s idea,” Julian’s voice grew quieter. “She said… it would force you to let go. That you wouldn’t be able to handle the public opinion and you’d call off the wedding yourself.” “If you wanted to marry her, why didn’t you just tell me?” He gave a bitter smile. “I didn’t dare, Victoria. You’re too intimidating. Half the company’s shares are in your name. The core team only listens to you. If I had broken up with you, I would have lost everything.” I nodded. So that was it. Not love, but calculation. Not impulse, but a cost-benefit analysis. Julian stood up. “I can compensate you. I don’t need the shares, and the company…” “Julian,” I interrupted, holding out my hand. “Give me back the ring.” He instinctively covered his finger. “Victoria, we can still…” “Give it back.” After a few seconds of stalemate, he slowly slid the ring off and placed it in my palm. I took it, walked to the bathroom without a word, and flushed it down the toilet. As I left, I heard Julian’s voice behind me. “I don’t love you anymore. I love Sophie.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. I didn’t look back. The moment I pulled the door open, I saw Sophie leaning against the hallway wall. She was holding her phone, the screen facing me. It wasn’t a photo or a chat log. It was the editing interface of a forum’s backend. The post title read: [Let’s talk about my sister’s ‘Repayment’ Wedding] The poster’s ID: RipplingSophie. She looked up, waggled the phone at me, and a sickly sweet smile spread across her face. 3 Despite everything, I felt a strange calm. The next day, I got up and went to work as usual, ignoring the strange looks from my colleagues. All day, I worked, my mind replaying the events, trying to understand how Julian and I had come to this. That evening, I drove home, my fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly my nails dug into the leather. The living room lights were on. My mother was on the sofa. My father stood by the window, smoking. The ashtray was already filled with cigarette butts. My mother stood up when she saw me, her voice uncertain. “You’re home. Are you hungry? There’s soup in the kitchen…” “Did you all know?” They all knew. They all kept it from me. Why? To keep Sophie happy? I cut her off, my voice sharp in the quiet room. My mother’s hand froze in mid-air. “Know what?” “About Julian and Sophie. About what was going to happen at the wedding. About me being kept in the dark, like a fool.” My father stubbed out his cigarette and turned around. “Victoria, it’s not what you think.” “Then what is it?” My mother sat back down, twisting a tissue in her hands. “Sophie… she’s had a difficult life. She’s been frail since she was a child, you know about her heart condition. She’s suffered so much, and Julian… he truly cares for her…” “So? So I should just step aside?” My mother’s voice suddenly rose. “She’s your sister! Can’t you be more understanding? The doctor said she can’t handle any emotional stress! After that scene today, she had to take two pills as soon as she got home!” I laughed. “Mom, it was my wedding today. I was the one publicly humiliated. My fiancé was cheating on me with my sister. You’re worried about her taking pills? Were you ever worried about how I managed to drive myself home?” My mother opened her mouth but said nothing. My father walked over. “Victoria, Julian doesn’t love you. There’s no point in forcing it. Better to find out now than to get divorced later.” “When did you find out?” Silence. “I asked, when did you find out!” My father averted his gaze. “Last year. Sophie showed us a pregnancy test. The baby was Julian’s.” “She was pregnant?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391094”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My husband’s illness forced me to visit his workplace for the first time to request leave on his behalf. The receptionist stared at me in disbelief. “Are you serious? The man you’re describing… he owns this company.” “Our boss and his wife come and leave together every day.” “Unless… you’re not his wife…” Seconds later, my supposedly sick husband walked out of the elevator, arm-in-arm with his high school sweetheart. Our eyes met, and his smile vanished. Seeing him in designer clothes, I burst into bitter laughter. “One of your suits costs more than my yearly salary, yet you pretended to be a low-paid clerk.” “You started your business with my dowry, lied about being broke, and I worked myself to the bone to help pay off debts, even when I was ill.” “Why did you deceive me like this?” He stammered, speechless. His sweetheart answered before he could. “It’s simple. He promised to wait for me. Everything he has—company, career—is mine.” “So, he has nothing to give you.” I realized my husband had hidden not only his identity, but also a lifetime vow to another woman. Yet I was still married to Steven Condon. Could he really give me nothing? 1 Steven reached out to touch my shoulder, but I jerked away. His hand hung in the air as he sighed. “Sunny, listen. I loved the feeling of living a simple life with you, really. I never meant to keep it from you forever. I was planning to tell you the truth soon.” “Soon? Eight years! Steven, we’ve been married for eight years! Isn’t that long enough?” I asked again, my voice trembling. “Or did you think I was dumb enough to be fooled forever?” He reached for me again. “That’s not it, Sunny.” I backed away, my heels unsteady because they were worn out, but I had never been able to bring myself to replace them. My gaze fell on Genevieve Bell, who was wearing glittering heels, a cashmere coat, and carrying an Hermès bag. I had only ever dared to glance at those in the shop window. I had joked to Steven, “When you’re rich, buy me an Hermès too.” He had laughed and ruffled my hair. “I will, and I’ll buy you two, one to carry, one to wear.” It turned out he had bought one. But for someone else. I fought back the bitterness and asked him with a laugh. “That’s not it? Then what about her?” Steven glanced at Genevieve. “Genevieve is just a friend.” Genevieve’s mouth turned down immediately. “Steven!” Steven pulled her close, gave her a look, and then turned back to me. “Don’t worry, if I had something going on with Genevieve, you’d be the last to know.” “She’s just divorced and a little emotionally unstable, I’m just taking care of her.” “She loves to joke around; those words were just to tease you, don’t take them to heart.” “Sunny, trust me.” Trust. I remembered the first year of our marriage when he first “failed at business” and owed half a million. The day the creditors came to the door, he squatted in the corner with his head in his hands, apologizing to me. I held him and told him it was okay, we would pay it back together. That night, I took out the dowry card my mother had given me. It had two hundred thousand in it; all my security. I put the card in his hand and said, “Take this money, and we’ll figure out the rest together. I believe in you.” He cried in my arms for a long time, promising he would never betray my love. Apparently, not betraying me meant eight years of deception. “Trust you?” I heard myself laughing, but my face was wet. “Steven, look me in the eyes and say it again. You’re just friends?” He opened his mouth, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but no sound came out. The silence was more cruel than any answer. I knew I didn’t need to ask anything more. I took a deep breath and wiped away my tears. “Steven, let’s get a divorce.” “That’s eight words. A million dollars a word.” “Buy out our marriage, so you can be with her, it’s a bargain, right?” 2 Steven seemed genuinely panicked. “Sunny, calm down, let’s talk about this at home.” I interrupted him. “Are you talking about the old apartment with the peeling wallpaper that costs $700 a month?” I almost laughed. His expression changed, and he reached for me. “Don’t make a scene here; it’s not a good look.” “Let go,” I said through gritted teeth. He wouldn’t. “Not until you promise me you’ll come home and talk this through.” Seeing us pulling at each other, Genevieve said softly, “Sunny, if I were you, I’d be grateful. A wife’s title is what many women want. If you think Steven is giving you too little money, I can make him give you five thousand, no, eight thousand more a month. That should be enough for your expenses, right? Don’t be too extravagant.” The words hurt more than a slap in the face. I thought of the countless days I had spent pinching pennies. The toilet paper I stocked up on when it was on sale at the supermarket, the second-hand clothes I bought online, the messy haircuts I gave myself. A sense of humiliation washed over me. One hand was gripped tightly by Steven, but with the other, I gathered all my strength and slapped Genevieve’s self-righteous face. The clear sound was deafeningly loud in the lobby. Time seemed to stop. A few seconds later, Genevieve seemed to realize what had happened, covering her face, her eyes red, and screaming. “Steven! She hit me! It hurts!” Steven reacted almost instantly. He pushed me away, and I stumbled backward. My lower back hit the sharp corner of the reception desk, a burst of pain. Before I could steady myself, he reached for me again. “Sunny! Are you crazy!” He roared, grabbed my shoulders, and pushed me hard. The world spun. My head hit the corner of a marble table heavily, making a dull sound. Excruciating pain shot through the back of my head, and I reached back and touched it. It was bleeding. I leaned on the table, barely able to stand. My vision was blurred, but I could see him cradling Genevieve’s face, examining her carefully. “It hurts, Steven, it hurts…” Genevieve said softly. Steven patted her back gently, like a child. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” Then he looked up and roared at the receptionist, who was standing there stunned. “Are you blind?! Can’t you see Genevieve is hurt?! Get an ice pack! Now!” The young receptionist trembled and hurried to find an ice pack. Blood trickled down my neck into my collar, sticky and warm before turning cold. It was so cold, my whole body was cold. Steven finally turned to look at me. “Go home. I need to take Genevieve to the hospital. We’ll talk about this another day.” My vision was fading, but I tried to make my voice heard. “Steven, from today on, we’re even.” He froze. “What?” “You think eight million is too much? Fine. Your debt to me for my dowry, for my eight years of youth, for the blood I’m shedding, I’ll get it back, penny by penny, in court.” And the marital property, including the company he started with my money, the profits over the years, the house, car, and jewelry he bought her, everything, I would take back what was mine. Genevieve suddenly looked up. “You’re dreaming!” I didn’t answer, but turned and walked toward the door. Every step was a stabbing pain in the back of my head. Every step, blood flowed. But my back was straight. People can fall, but they can’t bend. As for whether it was a dream, I didn’t need to answer her; I trusted my lawyer would give me the answer. 3 It was completely dark by the time I left the law firm. I endured the headache and went home. When I walked in, I saw an open suitcase in the middle of the living room. Steven was putting shirts in it, and Genevieve was sitting on the couch. “You’re back?” Steven looked up at me, his tone as calm as if nothing had happened. “Good, I need to talk to you.” “Genevieve hasn’t been feeling well lately, and that slap today made her old injuries flare up.” “The doctor said she needs someone to take care of her. I’m going to stay there for a few days.” I laughed in spite of myself. “You don’t need to tell me; we’re in a divorce cooling-off period. You can stay wherever you want; you don’t need to report to me.” He clicked his tongue impatiently. “Sunny, don’t be like this. I know you’re upset today, but we can talk about our issues later. Genevieve needs me now.” Needs. He needed me, and I was always there. I needed him, and he was with someone else. Was that fair? No. But marriage was never about fairness; it was about willingness. I was willing for eight years. Now my heart was dead, and my love was gone. “Okay,” I said, turning and walking into the bedroom. He probably thought I would cry, make a scene, try to make him stay. But I didn’t. I opened the closet and started packing his things. I stopped when I got to the photos. In the frame was our wedding photo. He was smiling so brightly, and my eyes were full of light. “Sunny, what are you doing?” He followed me in, a hint of panic in his voice. “Aren’t you leaving?” I didn’t turn around, just kept tossing things into the suitcase. “I’m helping you pack, so you don’t have to come back.” “I said it was just a few days—” “Then don’t ever come back. Take your things and the person who needs you, and get out.” Genevieve appeared in the bedroom doorway. “Steven, are you still going with me to the cruise auction tonight? You promised to get me that necklace…” “Yes,” Steven answered immediately, without even looking at me. “I’ll do what I promised.” Hearing this, Genevieve looked at me, a smile playing on her lips. “Sunny, I doubt you’ve ever been to a high-end event like that, have you? But then again, those places have a lot of rules, and they’re not suitable for someone as… straightforward as Sunny.” Steven turned to explain to me. “Sunny, it’s not that I don’t want to take you. It’s just that those events are full of business partners, and you have to be careful about what you say and do. I’m afraid you won’t be comfortable, and if you say or do something wrong, you might offend an important client…” I interrupted him coldly. “Are you finished?” He froze. I pointed to the door. “If you’re finished, then get out, get out of my apartment!” “Sunny, this is our—” “No. This is mine. I paid the rent, I paid the utilities, I bought the furniture. What have you contributed besides living here for eight years?” He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, he said nothing. Because what I said was true. The “household expenses” he gave me for the past eight years, $5,000 a month, barely covered the rent and basic expenses. I said it wasn’t enough, and he told me to save. I saved, and he spent lavishly on another woman, calling her just a friend? His tone turned cold. “Fine, I’ll go, but don’t regret it!” “Get out!” The door slammed shut, and the room suddenly became quiet. Too quiet. I could hear the hum of the refrigerator, and the beating of my own heart. I slowly squatted down, hugging my knees. Tears fell, hitting the floor, one drop, two drops. I don’t know how long it was before my phone vibrated. I picked it up. It was a photo from an unknown number. On the hotel bed, Steven’s sleeping face, Genevieve pressed against his chest, giving the camera a victory sign. Below the photo was a line of text: “Thank you for your sacrifice.” I stared at the photo for a long time. Then I replied, “Thank you too.” For sending me evidence. The private investigator said that Steven was careful, and he couldn’t find any evidence of physical infidelity. That would make it difficult for me to file for divorce and get more property. Fortunately, now I had it.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391093”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My sister was a swan, and I was the ugly duckling. My parents were always comparing us. “Look at your sister, and then look at you.” Even the boy next door, who I’d grown up with, used to say, “Gennifer’s like a princess, and you’re like the servant who takes care of her.” I didn’t like it, so I asked him why. He sniffled and said, “Because you look… messy.” Until the day I went to that party. My parents dragged my sister over to the hosts, trying their best to sell her, praising her to the skies. I shrank into a corner, staring at the imported cookies on the table, my mouth watering. But the hosts’ young son didn’t even glance at my sister. He walked straight through the crowd and pulled me into a tight hug. “Mine,” He said. 1 Gennifer had a face that could launch a thousand ships. Almond eyes, high cheekbones, skin as white as fresh cream. Her eyelashes were long and fluttered like delicate fans. Whenever we went out, strangers would stop my mom and ask, “This child is so pretty, is she a model?” My mom would smile modestly, “Oh, no, she just takes after her father.” If I happened to chime in with a, “Mom?” The strangers would jump, then look down at my freckled face, which was usually smeared with chocolate. “Oh, is this also your daughter?” My mom’s smile would falter, “Yes.” “The younger one.” The strangers would chuckle, “Looks like the older one stole all the nutrients in the womb!” My mom would laugh along, “That’s right, the older one is a go-getter.” I took that whole thing about Gennifer stealing my nutrients in the womb to heart. For a long time, I saw her as my nemesis. Well, not that long. Maybe a couple of months. My main tactic was stealing her snacks. Like those bright red strawberries, those shiny cherries, and that stinky-but-delicious durian. My mom would always wash them, slice them, and serve them to Gennifer. A huge plate, arranged all fancy. I’d only get the scraps. When I finished my portion and was still hungry, I’d sneakily grab some from Gennifer’s plate. You can’t go to the well too often without getting wet. I got caught in the act after a few times. Gennifer started crying, all teary-eyed and pathetic. “She’s stealing my food.” She even looked good when she cried, like a porcelain doll shedding pearl tears. I stuck my neck out and yelled, “It’s her fault for stealing my nutrients in the womb!” Gennifer sobbed and retorted, “I didn’t!” I started throwing a fit, “You did, you did!” My face contorted, and my eyes crossed. Compared to Gennifer’s perfect tears, I looked like something from a horror movie. Like a wicked witch tormenting a damsel in distress. My mom snapped, grabbed a clothes hanger, and started swatting my butt. “I’ll teach you to lie!” “You’re not pretty, but you’re nasty on the inside, too!” I jumped around trying to avoid my mom’s attacks, pleading, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t hit me!” My mom put her hands on her hips, pointed at my nose, and yelled, “Your sister doesn’t owe you anything!” “If I ever see you taking her things again, I’ll break your legs!” Gennifer didn’t steal my nutrients. So why did she look like an angel and I looked…well, me? I couldn’t figure it out. Why were my parents so biased? I couldn’t figure that out either. So I asked someone else. I sat with Fred Davies on a bench in the park, each of us holding half a popsicle. “Do you have a brother?” I asked Fred. He sucked on his popsicle, making a slurping sound. “Yeah, why?” “Does your mom treat your brother better?” “Better? What do you mean?” He looked over at me. I thought for a moment, then gestured wildly, “Like…she only gives your brother the good snacks, only sends your brother to tutoring…” He frowned for a long time, then shook his head, “Nah, not really.” “But isn’t not going to tutoring a good thing?” We looked at each other, like we’d found a kindred spirit. “Totally.” My mom had signed Gennifer up for all kinds of classes: piano, dance, etiquette, you name it. Every time she went out, Gennifer had to wear a tight dress and get all dolled up, like a mannequin. Her schedule was packed solid. I was different. I was a free range kid. While Gennifer was in a studio trying to stretch, I was in the sandbox making mud pies. Tutoring sounded awful. Thinking about it that way, Gennifer was kind of pathetic. My jealousy vanished. Fred asked, “Do you have a sister?” “Yep,” I said. He just said “Oh,” and didn’t ask anything else. The only sound was us slurping our popsicles. 2 I’d regained my strange sense of inner peace. I stopped causing trouble at home, and even started looking at Gennifer with a bit of sympathy. I was still doing my own thing, and I had my friends. One day, I was having too much fun and lost track of time. By the time I noticed, the sun had already set, and the park lights were dim. One by one, my friends were picked up by their parents. Some parents were angry, some were worried, some yelled, some spoke softly. But they were all taken home. Even Fred was dragged away by his older brother, who looked just like him, only better-looking. Before he left, Fred turned around and yelled, “Go home, Sunny!” The busy playground instantly emptied, becoming eerily quiet. I realized I was the only one left. It was so quiet. I looked up at my building. It was tall, and the lights in the living room were on, a warm yellow. Why weren’t my parents looking for me? I kicked a small pebble at my feet. If Gennifer was out this late… Whatever, there was no point in thinking about it. My mom was like her personal bodyguard, always by her side, shuttling her between classes. It was only a short walk home. But I didn’t know who I was mad at, so I didn’t move. I squatted down and started drawing in the sandbox. I drew cats, castles, princesses, bows… I filled the entire sandbox. People came home from work, one after another. Still, no one came to look for me. The park became emptier, and my stomach started growling. The wind blew, and the leaves rustled. It sounded like ghosts were running through the woods. A chill ran down my spine, and my hair stood on end. I was too scared to look back, so I took off running. I burst into the lobby, jumped into the elevator, and pounded on the door. I felt like a million ghosts were chasing me. Three…two… I was about to be captured… I was about to cry. The door opened. … White light streamed from the doorway, and the ghosts vanished. I was saved. My mom opened the door, glanced at me, and frowned. “Where’ve you been running around? You’re so late.” “Dinner’s in the oven. Get it yourself.” I was still relieved, smiling foolishly. “Thanks, Mom.” I quickly took off my shoes and went to get some food. Gennifer was sitting on the couch watching cartoons. I finished my dinner in a few bites and sat down next to her. It was Detective Conan. The wealthy old man’s ruby was missing, and there were four suspects. When one of the guys came on screen, I pointed at the TV and yelled, “It’s him! He looks like a bad guy!” Gennifer rolled her eyes and ignored me. I got excited. “Wanna bet? If I win, you have to give me half your allowance.” She didn’t say anything, pretending to be all cool. I stared at her with wide eyes. She got annoyed and clicked her tongue. “What’s your reasoning?” I said, “You can tell by looking at him! He has a bad face!” “Oh,” Gennifer said casually, “He kind of looks like you.” I got angry and was about to hit her. My mom’s voice boomed, “Gennifer, it’s time to practice your piano!” Gennifer’s face immediately fell, and she got up reluctantly. I was happy and stuck my tongue out at her. I went back to watching TV. My mom yelled again, “Sunny, turn off the TV! Your sister’s practicing piano, don’t bother her!” I said “Okay,” turned off the sound, and kept watching the show silently. 3 That stupid TV station. It always cut off at the crucial moment. Who was the killer? I had to wait another week. I was very bitter. So bitter that Fred noticed. We were each on a swing, rocking back and forth. He asked, “What’s wrong with you?” I complained about the TV station. After hearing the story, Fred slapped his thigh. “I think it’s the guy with the rat face, too!” We looked at each other and high-fived. “Great minds think alike!” “Hey, did your mom yell at you last time you came home late?” “Nope,” I said. He was envious. “Your mom’s so cool. She doesn’t care about you.” I didn’t say anything, but something felt wrong. As we were talking, Gennifer came back from her lesson. She was wearing a pink dress and a shiny headband. My mom was holding her hand and walking towards us. I yelled, “Mom! Gennifer!” My mom waved her hand and yelled, “Don’t play too late.” Gennifer glanced back, then walked away with my mom. I turned around and saw Fred’s popsicle on the ground, covered in sand. “What’s wrong?” Fred stared at Gennifer, his mouth wide open and his eyes bulging. “That’s your sister?” I said, “Yep.” He looked at the direction Gennifer disappeared, then at me, then back at her. “You were adopted, weren’t you?” I freaked out. “You were adopted! Your whole family was adopted!” Fred was still muttering, “Your sister’s like a princess.” I also thought Gennifer was like a princess. But I didn’t want to hear him say it. When he saw I wasn’t listening, he leaned in. “You two don’t look like sisters at all.” “Then what do we look like?” He thought for a moment, then said seriously, “Like a princess and her servant.” Some friend! I got so angry that I pushed him hard. He wasn’t expecting it and fell into the sandbox, getting sand all over himself. “Hey! Why’d you hit me for telling the truth!” “Jerk!” I stormed off, crying. “We’re over! Don’t talk to me again!” I was so angry. When I got home, I tore up all the superhero cards that Fred had given me. Fred was such an idiot. Even if his brother was a hundred times better-looking, I never said it to his face! There were pieces of paper everywhere. My mom saw it and exploded. “Sunny! What are you doing now!” “Making a mess! Can’t you keep things clean?” I picked up the pieces while arguing, “Gennifer spilled soup last time, but you didn’t yell at her!” “She didn’t mean to!” “I didn’t mean to, either!” I got emotional and burst into tears. “Does that mean that I’m doing it on purpose?” My mom put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “You’re talking back now? Why can’t you be more like your sister? She’s so much better behaved!” “What are you crying for? Don’t be so embarrassing!” I yelled back, “That’s because you never yell at her!” My mom laughed angrily. “So it’s our fault?” She made a move to grab the clothes hanger. I got scared and ran back to my room, locking the door. She didn’t chase me. After a while, I heard the door close. My mom had taken Gennifer out again. 4 I pulled out the small mirror that I hid under my pillow. I bitterly thought that everyone loved Gennifer. Was it just because she was pretty? I wasn’t that ugly. The mirror reflected a face covered in tears and snot. It was dirty, like a bitter melon. I scared myself and quickly turned the mirror over. When I thought about Gennifer crying, it was beautiful, like an angel crying pearls. People are so different. I felt a little resentful. Why did my mom make Gennifer so pretty and then just throw me together? I felt like the world was out to get me. My parents were biased. Even my friends betrayed me and couldn’t take their eyes off Gennifer. I decided I would be a cold-blooded killer. They would all regret it! The next day at school. Fred said hi to me. I pretended not to see him and walked right past him. Fred insisted on getting in my way, waving his hand in front of my face. “Are you blind?” I said coldly, “Please stay away from me. We’re over.” He smirked. “Are you really mad?” “It was my fault. Don’t be angry.” As he said that, he took out a bottle of milk from his bag and gave it to me. There was writing all over it, I couldn’t read it. “Here, my aunt bought this. It’s imported milk, really expensive.” I was a little tempted. At home, all the good food was for Gennifer. I was about to reach out and take it. Then he pulled out a pink bottle with big strawberries on it. “This one’s for your sister.” My hand recoiled like I’d been shocked. Fred didn’t realize what he’d done. “This strawberry one is sweet, girls love it. Your sister will definitely like it.” I didn’t say anything. I sped up, went around him, and walked away without looking back. Fred yelled, “Hey! Sunny!” “Why are you running, Sunny?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391092”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was out of town when I received a text from my neighbor, Mrs. Rodriguez, claiming my husband, Arthur, had brought a glamorous woman home. I immediately rushed back. Arthur wasn’t there, so I tore through the house, overturning drawers and rummaging through closets. “You slut, where are you hiding? Get out here!” I peered under the bed, only to discover a blood-soaked female corpse. Her head had been severed, her eyes wide open, staring fixedly at me. Terror seized me, shaking me to my very core. Just then, footsteps sounded from outside the door. Arthur was home! 1 The lock clicked. A shiver shot through me, and almost instinctively, I glanced around, then darted into the wardrobe. It had louvered doors, and through the slats, I could still see the head under the bed. The woman wore heavy smoky eye makeup and exaggerated contact lenses. At first glance, her eyes were just two black voids, bulging as if they might pop out. I clamped a hand over my mouth, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would explode. I couldn’t fathom it. I came home to catch my husband cheating, and instead, I stumbled into this! Why would he kill her? Did they argue? My husband, Arthur, always had a short fuse. If a waiter was slow at a restaurant, he’d slam his hand on the table. Arguments were a regular occurrence. But even with his temper, he wouldn’t just kill someone, would he? That’s a crime! Didn’t he think about the consequences? Lost in my chaotic thoughts, Arthur stepped into the bedroom. He looked to be in high spirits, carrying a black plastic bag and humming a tune. “Oh, what a beautiful morning, oh, what a beautiful day!” Humming, he slowly knelt, placed the plastic bag by his feet, and pulled the head from under the bed. He cradled the head in his left hand, and with his right, he playfully tapped the woman’s nose. “You know something?” “You just never listen!” His tone was teasing, as if they were flirting. “Look at you, so beautiful. I truly adore you.” “I told you to just lie still on the bed, but you had to go messing with my things.” “You found my secret. What could I do? I had no choice but to let you go!” “We haven’t been together long, I really am going to miss you.” Then he leaned in, planting two passionate kisses on the woman’s crimson lips. The thick, foul smell of blood assaulted my nostrils, and I nearly gagged. I never imagined my husband could be so utterly twisted. Kissing a severed head! He wasn’t some deranged serial killer, was he? And what “secret” was he talking about? We’d been married for four years. I cleaned everything in the house. His phone password was my birthday; I could look at it anytime. I’d never found anything unusual! 2 I stared at Arthur’s blood-stained face, twisted into a grotesque, unfamiliar expression. After those violent kisses, he started humming again. “Oh, what a beautiful morning, oh, what a beautiful evening…” He tossed the head into the black plastic bag, then bent down and dragged the woman’s body out from under the bed. Only then did I see she was naked. Her figure was alluring, her waist impossibly slender. Alive, she would have been captivating. But now, a brutal gash sliced across her delicate waist, as if she’d been cut in half. A section of her intestines spilled out. Arthur reached out, slowly caressing the blood-soaked intestines, a look of profound sorrow on his face. “Such a shame, I didn’t mean to kill you so soon!” After that, he went to the kitchen and returned with a cleaver. He squatted on the floor and began to expertly dismember the body. Watching him carve away flesh and separate bone with each precise stroke, a wave of intense nausea surged through me. I was about to throw up. Everyone knows the saying about the skilled butcher, who, after nineteen years, could expertly carve an ox, his blade gliding through joints without resistance. Arthur gave me that exact impression. His movements were fluid, sickeningly smooth. I barely heard any sound of bones being chopped. He was clearly engrossed in his gruesome skill, a look of satisfied pride on his face. Soon, he had neatly separated the two legs, bones laid out, meat minced and packed into black plastic bags. He stood up, stretching his back, and then, his gaze suddenly fixed, his expression snapping to one of alarm. 3 I followed his line of sight, and my eyes widened, cold sweat trickling down my spine. My earring! I instinctively touched my earlobe. The left one was indeed empty. It must have fallen off when I was frantically searching the room earlier. Arthur’s brow furrowed. He walked over and picked up the earring. “I could’ve sworn Daisy was wearing this exact pair of pearl earrings when she left this morning?” He’d given them to me for my birthday. I loved them, and I’d carefully chosen my outfit around them before heading out. Arthur had teased me, saying most people picked jewelry to match their clothes, but I did it the other way around. He’d joked it was like baking a cake just to have frosting. He was clearly remembering that conversation, and his face grew darker. He lifted his head, scrutinizing the room, his eyes sweeping every corner. I held my breath, terrified. The next second, an idea flashed through my mind, and I fumbled for my phone in my pocket. My palms were slick with sweat, my fingers too slippery. I tapped the screen repeatedly, but couldn’t unlock it. My entire body trembled, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. Through the louvered doors, I watched Arthur pick up his phone from the nightstand and dial my number. My phone wasn’t on silent. If it rang, I was dead! In a desperate rush, a sudden thought struck me, and I pressed and held the power button on the right side of my phone, turning it off! At that very instant, a clear female voice echoed in the silent bedroom. “Beep, the subscriber you are calling is temporarily unavailable.” 4 “The subscriber you are calling is temporarily unavailable.” After several attempts, Arthur’s frown deepened. “Why is her phone off? Did the battery die?” “Never mind, I’m probably overthinking. She shouldn’t be back so soon.” “That silly girl, she probably dropped the earring before she even left.” Arthur shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. He slipped the earring into his pocket and went back to dismembering the body. About half an hour later, he had completely separated all the bones and minced meat, packing them into different large black plastic bags, which he then carried into the kitchen. I remained hidden in the wardrobe, my legs numb from crouching. The sound of running water came from the kitchen. I carefully flexed my numb ankles, then cautiously opened the wardrobe door a crack. Our apartment layout had been modified. The small room next to the kitchen was knocked through to become the dining room, and the kitchen’s sliding door also opened in that direction. There was also a cabinet partition between the dining room and the living room. This meant that if I could get out of the master bedroom without making a sound, I could reach the front door without Arthur noticing. I planned to seize this chance to escape. As for what would happen afterward, I had no idea how to deal with it, and frankly, I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. All I wanted was to get away from Arthur, this murderer. 5 After opening the wardrobe door, I stood still for a few seconds, letting my legs regain feeling. Then, on tiptoes, making sure not to make even the slightest sound, I slowly moved towards the front door. One step, two steps, three steps. The mahogany security door was right in front of me! Arthur was still engrossed in washing things in the kitchen, the sound of water constant. My fingers, white at the knuckles from gripping, had just touched the doorknob. Suddenly— “Knock, knock, knock!” The knocking exploded without warning, making me jump. “Daisy? Arthur? Are you home?” It was Mrs. Rodriguez, our neighbor, her voice booming, tinged with barely suppressed excitement. Almost immediately, the water in the kitchen stopped. My scalp prickled. I snatched my hand back from the door and frantically scanned the living room. It was an open space, nowhere to hide, except for the heavy L-shaped fabric sofa turned sideways to the door. I practically dove, curling up behind the sofa’s corner, my heart hammering like a drum. Arthur’s footsteps approached, moving past my hiding spot, towards the door. “Who is it?” he asked, his voice calm as ever. “It’s me, Mrs. Rodriguez from next door.” The voice outside was even more enthusiastic. “I just heard some noise from your place and wondered if Daisy was back?” “I just steamed some corn muffins. Daisy loves them, and they’re still warm.” “Oh, Mrs. Rodriguez.” Arthur opened the door a crack, not fully. “Daisy’s not back yet. I was just in the kitchen chopping bones for a rib soup. Would you like some?” “Really?” Mrs. Rodriguez’s tone shifted, her eyes peering through the gap in the door, as if she wanted to squeeze her whole body in. “That’s odd, I thought I saw her enter the complex this afternoon.” “Did you two have a fight?” “Arthur, you’re an honest man, but you shouldn’t be messing around behind our Daisy’s back!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391091”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

“Sign it. You’ll leave with nothing.” Thomas pushed the divorce papers across the table to me, his voice as detached as if he were closing a business deal. Beside him sat his lawyer, and next to the lawyer, his new partner, Sienna, her belly subtly rounded. Sienna looked at me with an air of condescension. “Ms. Emery, Thomas has been very generous. He’s not even asking for the house or the car back. Just sign.” I picked up the pen. Thomas’s brow furrowed. “Aren’t you going to read the terms?” “No need.” I signed my name. Then I smiled. Thomas’s face changed. 1. Thomas uttered those words at three in the afternoon. The conference room was quiet, sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the divorce agreement. I stared at my name, feeling utterly detached from it. Rachel Emery. Those two words had been mine for thirty-two years. With Thomas, for five. Five years ago, when we married, he wasn’t “Thomas Davies, CEO.” Back then, he was just a product manager who’d been let go by his company, with only three months’ severance pay in his pocket. I remember him telling me he wanted to start a business. I asked him what kind. He said enterprise SaaS systems. I told him that market was already saturated. He said it didn’t matter; he had the connections, the resources, he just needed someone who could code. At the time, I was a tech lead at a major corporation, earning over six hundred thousand a year. I told him, “I’ll do it.” He paused, then smiled. It was the most genuine smile I had ever seen from him. “Really? You’d quit your job and join me?” I said yes. That’s how we began. I resigned, he put up his severance pay, and we wrote the first line of code in our rented apartment. Back then, the company was just the two of us. Thomas was responsible for finding clients, negotiating partnerships, and securing investments. I handled all the technical development. All of it. I built the server architecture. I designed the database. I wrote the front-end and back-end. I optimized the core algorithms. The day the first version of the product launched, Thomas posted on social media. “Day 127 of our startup, and the product is finally live. Thanks to everyone who supported me.” The photo was of his own back, sitting in front of a computer. I scrolled past that post while debugging an online glitch. It was two in the morning; I’d had three coffees and my eyes were barely open. I just smiled, saying nothing. That post was just the beginning. The day we signed our first client, Thomas took them out to dinner, without inviting me. The day the first investment came through, Thomas posted, “Thank you to our investors for their trust, and to my incredible team,” with a photo of him and the investors. Team? Back then, the entire tech department was just me. I brought it up to Thomas once. “Could you mention me when you post?” Thomas was on the phone. He looked at me after I spoke. “You’re my wife. Why would I mention you? Outsiders will think I’m mixing business with pleasure.” “I’m the company’s Head of Technology.” “You’re my wife,” he emphasized. “What you do is what our company does. What’s the difference?” I said there was none. I truly believed there was no difference. The company grew from two people to twenty, then from twenty to eighty. Thomas hired sales, operations, finance, administration. But he didn’t hire tech. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried. Three people were hired, and all three left. Because he couldn’t keep them. Because only I could understand the core code, and only I could maintain the core system. Newcomers couldn’t take over, or they couldn’t do it well. Thomas said, “Well, you just keep doing it then. You’re used to it anyway.” I said okay. I did it alone for five years. Five years. Over eighteen hundred days. Over fifty thousand hours. My recorded overtime alone exceeded eight thousand hours. An average of four and a half hours of overtime every day. Weekends were almost non-existent. The only time I ever took leave was when I was hospitalized for appendicitis. On the first day of my stay, Thomas came to see me. He brought a bag of fruit and talked for three minutes. Then he asked me, “What’s the root password for the server?” I lay in the hospital bed, fresh from surgery, the anesthesia not yet fully worn off. I gave him the password. He said thank you, then left. He didn’t come the next day. Or the day after. On the fourth day, he picked me up when I was discharged. In the car, I asked him, “What happened with the server?” He said, “Nothing major, just a small bug. Fixed it.” I told him to let me see. He said, “No need, it’s already resolved.” I asked who resolved it. He said an external contractor. A thought flashed through my mind at that moment, but I couldn’t grasp it. I should have. In the company’s third year, we secured Series A funding, with a valuation of thirty million. Thomas posted on social media again. “Thank you to the team, to our investors, and to everyone who believes in me. Three years, and we’ve finally reached this point.” The photo was of him and the investors, with the sales team standing behind them. The comments section was full of congratulations. I typed three words in the comments: Congratulations. Thomas replied with an emoji. That night, when I got home, I asked him, “How are you planning to divide the equity?” He said it was already done. I asked, “How much?” He said, “You get 5%.” I stopped chopping vegetables. 5%? I wrote the entire system. Front-end, back-end, architecture, algorithms, operations. I did it alone for three years. 5%? Thomas saw my displeasure and sighed. “I know you work hard, but equity isn’t about how much work you do. The Sales Director also gets 5%, the Finance Director also gets 5%. You can’t think of yourself as special.” “I’m the only one who’s been with you since day one.” “You’re my wife. What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours. Why be so particular?” He used that line again. He always used that line. I said, “Alright.” 5% it was. At that time, the company was valued at thirty million. 5% was 1.5 million. 1.5 million for three years of my effort. An average of five hundred thousand per year. I used to earn over six hundred thousand a year at the big corporation. By this calculation, I was actually losing money. But I didn’t say anything. He was my husband. We were family. Family doesn’t keep secrets. After Series A came Series B. After Series B came Series C. The company’s valuation soared from thirty million to one hundred million, then from one hundred million to three hundred million. My share was still 5%. Thomas’s share was 42%. I didn’t ask him why mine hadn’t increased. I was afraid he’d say “You’re my wife” again. In the company’s fourth year, at the annual gala, Thomas stood on stage, impeccably dressed, radiating confidence. Over a hundred employees sat below, the spotlight on his face. “This year, our company’s revenue exceeded twenty million, and profits turned positive for the first time. All of this is thanks to everyone’s hard work.” Applause. “Thank you to the sales team, you are the company’s vanguard.” Applause. “Thank you to the operations team, you are the company’s cornerstone.” Applause. “Thank you to the finance team, you are the company’s guardians.” Applause. I sat in the audience, waiting for him to mention the tech team. He didn’t. After the gala, a new sales employee asked me, “Ms. Emery, what’s your role with Thomas?” I said, “I’m the Head of Technology.” She looked surprised. “Oh? I thought you were Thomas’s assistant.” That night, when I got home, I asked Thomas, “Why didn’t you mention me?” He was untying his tie. He paused after I spoke. “Why would I mention you? You’re my wife, everyone knows that. If I mention you, people will say I’m mixing business with pleasure.” “You don’t have to mention me as your wife, just the tech team.” “The tech team is just you. Mentioning them is the same as mentioning you, isn’t it? Still going to be called mixing business with pleasure.” I fell silent. Thomas walked over and patted my shoulder. “Honey, don’t overthink it. I remember everything you’ve done. When the company gets bigger, I’ll naturally increase your shares.” I said, “Okay.” I waited. The fifth year passed. No increase in shares. But there was a Sienna. 2. Sienna was the administrative assistant Thomas hired. I’d met her when she started; she was very pretty and spoke sweetly. I didn’t think much of it. The company had over a hundred employees, half of them women, and she wasn’t the only pretty one. But I should have. After Sienna joined, Thomas became increasingly busy. He used to be home before ten, then it became eleven, then twelve. I asked him why he was so busy. He said the company was pushing for Series D funding, and there was a lot to do. I asked if he needed my help with anything. He said no, just keep an eye on the technical stuff. I believed him. Three months after Sienna started, the administrative department had a team-building event. Thomas went. I asked him, “Since when do you attend the admin department’s team-building?” He said it wasn’t team-building, but an employee care activity, and as the boss, he should show his face. I said okay. Six months after Sienna started, it was the company’s annual gala. That year’s gala was entirely organized by Thomas; I wasn’t involved. There was a raffle, and Sienna won the grand prize. The latest iPhone model. Thomas personally handed her the phone and even posed for a photo with her. When he posted it on social media, Thomas wrote: “Grand Prize winner at the annual gala, such good luck!” The photo was of him and Sienna. Sienna was beaming. I sat in the audience, looking at that social media post, and a flicker of unease went through me. But I didn’t say anything. I had too much I wanted to say, but I was afraid he’d just think I was being paranoid again. Eight months after Sienna started, I found out. That night, Thomas came home very late, and walked straight into the bathroom. He left his phone in the living room. I didn’t mean to look. I really didn’t. But the phone lit up, and a text message popped up. Sienna: Thinking of you. Just those three words. I stared at the message for three seconds. Then I put the phone back where it was. Thomas came out of the shower, picked up his phone, and glanced at it. I asked him, “Who’s looking for you?” He said, “Company stuff.” I said, “Oh.” I couldn’t sleep that night. The next morning, after Thomas left, I opened the company’s time-tracking system. As the Head of Technology, I had backend access. I pulled up Thomas and Sienna’s time cards for the past three months. Their attendance times overlapped almost perfectly. When Thomas worked late, Sienna worked late. When Thomas worked weekends, Sienna also worked weekends. Then I pulled up the company’s access control records. The two of them often entered and exited the company together. Several records showed Sienna swiping her card to enter Thomas’s office. At eleven o’clock at night. I put down my phone and took a deep breath. I told myself it might be work-related. I told myself not to be paranoid. I told myself Thomas wasn’t that kind of person. I told myself he was my husband. We were family. Family doesn’t keep secrets. I didn’t say anything. A year after Sienna started, I found out the truth. That night, Thomas didn’t come home again, saying he had a business dinner. I opened the dashcam app on his car. The GPS showed his car parked in a complex on the west side of the city. I had been to that complex once. Last year, for a company team-building event, Sienna invited everyone to her place for dinner. It was that complex. I didn’t go to him. I drove to the complex entrance and sat for an hour. At one in the morning, Thomas’s car drove out. Sienna was in the passenger seat. They were talking about something in the car, and Sienna was laughing. I watched from a distance, without getting out. The next morning, Thomas came home. He said he’d had too much to drink at the dinner and feared drunk driving, so he slept at the office. I said, “Oh.” He asked me why I looked pale, if I hadn’t slept well. I said, “A little.” He said, “When things settle down at the company in a couple of days, let’s go on a trip. You’re too tired.” I said, “Okay.” After he left, I didn’t cry. I sat on the sofa for a long time. Then I opened my laptop and started working. Code wouldn’t betray me. Code wouldn’t lie to me. The code was mine; it belonged to me. For the next two months, I didn’t bring up the subject. Thomas continued his routine: work, business dinners, not coming home. I continued to write code, debug, and optimize systems. The company was pushing for Series D, and there truly was a lot to do. My system needed a complete overhaul. Before the new version launched, I worked overtime for over thirty consecutive days, sleeping only four or five hours a night. Thomas never once asked if I was tired. One night, at two in the morning, the server crashed, and user data was at risk of being lost. I single-handedly rushed to fix it until five in the morning, finally restoring it. That morning, Thomas came to the office and saw me asleep at my desk. He nudged me. “Server fixed?” I said, “Yes.” He said, “Good, I have an investor meeting soon. Can you prepare a report on the technical metrics for me?” I said, “Okay.” He left. He didn’t ask if I was tired. He didn’t ask if I’d had breakfast. It was as if I were a machine. Used, then used again. The Series D funding negotiations lasted three months and were finally finalized. A valuation of three hundred million, eighty million in funding. Thomas was so happy he practically danced three circles in his office. That night, uncharacteristically, he came home early and even brought a bouquet of flowers. I thought he was coming to thank me. He sat down, his expression very serious. “Honey, I have something to tell you.” I thought, Is he finally going to increase my shares? He said, “Sienna is pregnant.” I paused for three seconds. Then I smiled. “Congratulations.” Thomas hadn’t expected my reaction; he looked surprised. “Aren’t you angry?” “Should I be angry?” “I thought you would…” “Would what? Cry? Make a scene?” I stood up. “Thomas, you overestimate yourself.” He froze there. I walked into the bedroom and locked the door. That night, I slept very well. The next morning, I went to work as usual. Thomas wasn’t there; apparently, he had taken Sienna for her prenatal checkup. I sat at my desk, opened my laptop, and began to organize files. All the code I had written over these five years. All the technical documentation. All the system architecture diagrams. All the algorithm models. I looked through each one, confirming them one by one. Then I opened the National Copyright Office website. Computer software copyright registration. The applicant could be an individual or a company. I had never paid attention to this before. But now I had to. I found the date I wrote the very first line of code five years ago. March 12, 2018. The company hadn’t even been registered yet. All the code I wrote was completed before the company was incorporated. Including the core architecture, core algorithms, and core modules. Legally speaking, who owned the copyright to this code? Me. Because I completed them in my individual capacity, before I was employed. Thomas had only verbally said, “You come and help me write,” and no contract had ever been signed. At that time, I was his wife, not his employee. Writing code for him was helping, not working. The copyright for this code was always mine. I sat in the office all day. In the evening, Thomas returned. He walked into the office, saw me still at my desk, and looked a bit surprised. “You haven’t left yet?” “No, just organizing things.” “What things?” “Five years of work.” He didn’t ask further. He walked into his own office and closed the door. An hour later, he called me in. In the office, besides him, were the company’s legal counsel and Sienna. Thomas pushed a document towards me. “Rachel Emery, let’s get a divorce. Here are the papers, take a look.” I picked up the agreement. It was thick, seven or eight pages. I flipped through it, page by page. The gist was: irreconcilable differences, voluntary divorce. The house goes to the husband, the car to the husband, company equity to the husband, bank accounts to the husband. Debts are separate. The wife voluntarily relinquishes all claims to property division. Leave with nothing. Four clear words. Sienna watched me from beside Thomas, her eyes filled with condescension and triumph. “Ms. Emery, Thomas has been very generous. He’s not even asking for the house or the car back. Just sign.” I glanced at her. Her belly was showing, probably four months along. I looked back at Thomas. He sat in his executive chair, his expression distant. Five years. From having nothing to a valuation of three hundred million. I had been by his side through it all. Now he wanted me to leave with nothing. I smiled. “Alright, I’ll sign.” I picked up the pen and signed my name. Thomas looked surprised. “Aren’t you going to read the terms?” “No need.” I pushed the agreement back to him. “When are we filing for divorce?” “Tomorrow.” “Good.” I stood up, grabbed my bag, and walked out of the office. Sienna called out from behind me, “Ms. Emery, you still have things at your desk!” I didn’t turn around. “I don’t need them.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391090”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

It was my mother-in-law’s fiftieth birthday, and my husband’s assistant suddenly sent me a photo. In the picture, my mother-in-law was locked in a dog cage, her teeth pulled out, her mouth bloody. I immediately called Amelia. “Amelia Henley, what in the world are you doing?!” Amelia laughed coldly. “You have the nerve to ask? Mr. Davies just opened a new restaurant, and you let that old hag freeload there. Are your family starving?” “Let me tell you, Mr. Davies already gave me that restaurant. Trying to take advantage of me? This is what you get!” I gasped in disbelief. “Are you insane? That’s Mike Davies’ mother!” Amelia replied nonchalantly, “Mr. Davies said your mother is your mother, and his mother is his mother. He never considered your mother as family.” Mike was famously devoted to his mother. I couldn’t believe Amelia would dare treat Mike’s mother like that, but then I realized: she thought it was my mother! 1 Amelia hung up immediately after speaking. Without hesitation, I called Mike. “Mike, Mom’s been hurt by Amelia. You need to go to—” “Alright, I know what you’re going to say.” Mike cut me off, his voice cold. “I think Amelia’s taught her a good lesson.” I froze. “What did you say?” Mike sighed, sounding somewhat impatient. “Scarlett Miller, even though we’re married, your mother needs to have some basic boundaries. She can’t constantly try to freeload and take advantage of me.” I grew agitated. “You’re mistaken, she’s your—” “Enough!” Mike snapped, annoyed. “What if she is my mother-in-law? I have no obligation to tolerate her greed.” “Today she dares to freeload at the restaurant, tomorrow she’ll dare to come directly to my company to ask for money.” “Amelia teaching her a lesson, helping her remember her place, it’s for her own good.” Mike’s words instantly chilled my anxious heart. My mother, though from a rural background, had always been kind and honest, never taking advantage of anyone, and she treated Mike with boundless generosity. When Mike was struggling financially in the early days of his startup, my mother didn’t hesitate to give him her life savings. Knowing he had a sensitive stomach, my mother, no matter how busy, would make various stomach-friendly foods and send them to the city from hundreds of miles away. Yet, this simple, kind elderly woman, who treated him like her own son, was now, in Mike’s words, a greedy leech who deserved to be taught a lesson and had no boundaries. A profound sadness swept through me, and my voice softened. “Mike, I really suggest you go to the restaurant and check on your mother. After all, it wasn’t easy for her to raise you.” Mike immediately grew furious. “Scarlett Miller, are you insane? When has your mother ever raised me?” “No wonder Amelia couldn’t help but teach your mother a lesson. With a daughter like you, she deserves to be beaten!” “Today is my mother’s fiftieth birthday. I still have to prepare her banquet; I don’t have time for your messy nonsense.” “If you had any sense, you’d stay out of this and let your mother learn her lesson.” With that, Mike hung up. A few seconds later, he sent me a text message: “My mother’s birthday banquet will be held at the Marriott Hotel in an hour. Dress up and come. Don’t be as embarrassing as your mother.” I didn’t say anything more, just quietly replied: “Okay.” Since you, the son, are telling me to mind my own business. Then why should I worry? 2 An hour later, I changed and arrived at the Marriott Hotel. The entire banquet hall had been exquisitely decorated, filled with flowers, balloons, and gifts. It was clear Mike genuinely valued his mother and had put a lot of thought into her birthday celebration. Mike’s family and friends, along with all the partners of Davies Group, were present. Mike was entertaining them, occasionally checking his watch and glancing towards the entrance, seemingly awaiting his mother’s arrival. Amelia, dressed in a stylish dress, was laughing and chatting with Mike’s sister, Samantha. Seeing me enter the ballroom, they exchanged glances and walked towards me together. Amelia spoke with a sneer, “Well, well, isn’t it the dutiful daughter who encourages her mother to freeload everywhere?” “What fine things are you planning to pack up today for your greedy mother to sample?” Samantha looked at me with a disgusted expression. “Scarlett Miller, you’re married to my brother now. Can you please drop your family’s cheap habits and stop embarrassing the Davies name?” “Anyone who didn’t know would think our family was raising a bunch of beggars!” Hearing the commotion, the guests at the venue began to whisper contemptuously. “When I arrived, I heard someone was freeloading at the Cloud Perch restaurant today. I wondered how anyone could be so shameless these days, turns out it’s Scarlett Miller’s mother!” “I heard Amelia taught her a good lesson, locked her in a dog cage and pulled out her teeth!” “Such people deserve it! It’s bad enough she’s a low-class embarrassment, but she also shames the Davies family. Having her teeth pulled is getting off easy.” “Exactly, if she’s not taught a harsh lesson, what if she goes out and makes a scene again?” Hearing the guests’ taunts, Mike’s face turned grim. He walked towards me, looking down at me condescendingly. His voice was cold. “Scarlett Miller, today is my mother’s fiftieth birthday. If her mood is ruined because of your mother’s pathetic behavior, I will never forgive you, or your utterly clueless mother!” His words were incredibly harsh, and I found them simply laughable. “Mike, if you’re truly so concerned about your mother, you should go to the restaurant and see for yourself.” Mike frowned. “What would I see at the restaurant?” “Watch your mother throw a tantrum?” “Or watch her make a spectacle of herself?” “Scarlett Miller, stop bringing your mother’s misfortune to my attention!” Samantha raised her chin, sneering in agreement. “Exactly! Today is my mother’s birthday. Is your mother’s petty drama really worth my brother’s time?” “If you ask me, she should be locked in that restaurant and starved for a few days, so she knows her place.” “Lest she truly believes that just because you married into our family, your whole family gets to ride our coattails to glory.” Amelia looked at me triumphantly. “Sister Scarlett, I know you feel for your mother. Don’t worry, I just taught her a small lesson to help her remember the rules. I wouldn’t actually do anything serious to her.” Just as she finished speaking, Mr. Kim, the manager of the Cloud Perch restaurant, rushed into the banquet hall, out of breath. “Ms. Henley, it’s terrible!” “The old lady in the dog cage… she’s dead!” 3 Mr. Kim’s words caused the entire banquet hall to erupt. Amelia, utterly flustered, demanded, “What happened?!” Mr. Kim gasped, “We followed your instructions. We pulled out her teeth and locked her in the dog cage, and we left her there.” “Who knew the old lady had a heart condition? Not long after you left, she started clutching her chest, gasping for air, and she died within moments.” Hearing this, Amelia’s body went limp, and she nearly collapsed. Mike quickly steadied her, comforting her. “Amelia, don’t be afraid.” “This is all Scarlett Miller’s mother’s own poor health. It has nothing to do with you.” Samantha also reacted, immediately nodding in agreement. “Exactly, Amelia, you can’t be blamed for this. Blame that old woman herself for being in poor health and still making a scene.” “If you ask me, she deserved to die. It saves her from further embarrassing our family.” Seeing Mike and Samantha both siding with Amelia, the previously stunned guests also quickly chose their sides. “That’s right, people who love to take advantage like that are just parasites on society even when they’re alive.” “Amelia is acting on behalf of heaven; there’s nothing to be afraid of.” “Exactly, who told her to freeload first? Her heart was bad, and she still went out looking for trouble. Isn’t that just asking for death?” In an instant, everyone was comforting Amelia. It was as if she, the perpetrator, was the one who had been wronged, not the pitiful deceased. Seeing everyone on her side, a flicker of triumph crossed Amelia’s eyes. But the next moment, she timidly glanced at me and spoke weakly to Mike. “But Mr. Davies, it is, after all, Sister Scarlett’s mother who died. What if she causes trouble for me?” Mike looked at her with tenderness. “Don’t worry, with me here, no one can harm you.” Then, Mike immediately had a letter of understanding drafted and handed it to me. “Scarlett Miller, your mother was in the wrong first. Her death can only be blamed on her own bad luck, not Amelia.” “For the sake of our marriage, I will arrange a dignified funeral for your mother.” “But you must sign this letter of understanding, promising to let this matter rest and not make trouble for Amelia.” Samantha, with her arms crossed, spoke imperiously. “Scarlett Miller, your mother brought this on herself. Don’t even think about trying to extort Amelia. Be smart and sign the letter of understanding.” The two siblings commanded me imperiously, waiting for me to sign the letter of understanding. But I pushed the letter back to them, stating calmly, “If anyone is to sign, it’s you two. I have no right to.” 4 Mike thought I was refusing, and his voice immediately darkened. “Scarlett Miller, don’t be ungrateful.” “Your mother was an unemployed drifter, completely worthless in this world. The fact that I’m giving her a decent burial means your family’s ancestral graves are smoking with good fortune. Don’t push your luck.” Samantha frowned and chimed in, “Exactly. If it weren’t for my brother’s kindness, no one would even bother to bury your mother after all the disgraceful things she did.” “We’re giving you an out right now; why aren’t you taking it?” I calmly explained, “You’re mistaken. What I mean is, the person who died is your mother. This letter of understanding, only you can sign.” Samantha, hearing my words, immediately panicked. “Scarlett Miller, are you insane? How dare you say such inauspicious things and curse my mother at her birthday banquet?” Mike also flew into a rage. “Scarlett Miller, it seems I’ve spoiled you too much over the years, allowing you to be so arrogant and lacking even the most basic respect for elders.” “My mother is the most important person in my life. I will not allow anyone to disrespect her, even if you are my wife!” With that, he abruptly turned to Mr. Kim, the manager, and barked, “Go back to the restaurant immediately and throw that old hag’s body into the septic tank!” Mr. Kim glanced at me hesitantly. “Mr. Davies, this… this isn’t right, is it?” Mike roared, “She won’t sign the letter of understanding, will she? She likes to curse my mother, does she? Today I’m going to make sure she knows the consequences of disrespecting my mother!” “Go now, deal with it immediately! Any problems, I’ll take responsibility!” Seeing Mike’s outburst, Mr. Kim dared not disobey and stumbled away to carry out the order. The guests pointed at me, shaking their heads and murmuring amongst themselves. “Scarlett Miller has really touched Mr. Davies’ raw nerve this time.” “Exactly. Mr. Davies’ father passed away young. It was the elder Mrs. Davies who raised him and his sister alone. Who doesn’t know that Mr. Davies cares about her the most? Scarlett Miller must be crazy to curse the elder Mrs. Davies at her own birthday banquet!” “No wonder her mother died. With such an ungrateful daughter, what parent would live long?” The guests’ whispers were piercing, but they didn’t affect me in the slightest. I ignored everyone, looked at Mike, and said, word for word, “Mike, are you sure you want to go this far?” Mike looked down at me condescendingly, his voice cold and sharp. “Scarlett Miller, you brought all this on yourself.” “Your mother died entirely because she was shameless and greedy.” “You shouldn’t, because of this incident, repeatedly bring bad luck and curses to my mother at her birthday banquet.” “If you ask me, your mother, having an ungrateful woman like you who doesn’t understand respect for elders, deserved to die young!” No sooner had he finished speaking than my mother suddenly walked into the banquet hall, looking at Mike with confusion. “Who died?” 5 Seeing my mother standing alive and well before him, Mike froze. He stared with wide eyes, as if seeing a ghost, his gaze fixed on my mother in disbelief, unable to utter a single word for a long moment. The other guests didn’t notice Mike’s expression, instead they simply looked at my mother, their faces showing expressions of disdain and confusion. “Where did this hillbilly come from? Dressed like she picked her clothes from a dumpster.” “Today is the elder Mrs. Davies’ birthday banquet. What’s wrong with the security guards at the entrance? Why are they letting in any Tom, Dick, or Harry?” “Looking at her, she probably smelled the banquet food and wants to come in for a free meal, right?” “How unlucky, today we keep running into these low-class people.” Amelia also quickly stepped forward and snapped at my mother, “Where did this stinking beggar come from?” “Get out of here, now!” “This isn’t a place for you to beg for food!” As she spoke, she looked my mother up and down with disgusted eyes, as if she were looking at something foul. My mother was startled by her sudden hostility and looked at me somewhat helplessly. “Scarlett, what’s going on? Why are they saying such things to me?” I was about to explain, but Amelia suddenly shrieked as if she had discovered something new. “I knew why some blind hillbilly would dare to barge in! It’s another one of your poor relatives!” “Scarlett Miller, do you have any shame?” “It wasn’t enough to let your greedy mother freeload at our restaurant, and now you’re even calling your poor relatives to come and freeload at the elder Mrs. Davies’ birthday banquet?” “Are your Miller family starving?” “Dragging a bunch of poor relatives to squeeze every last penny out of the Davies family?” Her words immediately ignited the emotions of the surrounding guests: “How awful, it’s another one of Scarlett Miller’s poor relatives!” “Disgusting, like a dog, running wherever there’s food.” “Exactly, one just died, and another one comes!” “Mr. Davies, today is the elder Mrs. Davies’ birthday banquet. Letting such a cheap, poor scrounger in, isn’t that embarrassing your family? Get rid of her now!” “Exactly, how can such a person be allowed to spoil the elder Mrs. Davies’ birthday banquet?” Listening to the piercing whispers around her, my mother frowned, perplexed. “Everyone, have you made a mistake?” “I am not Scarlett’s relative; I am her mother!” 6 My mother’s words instantly silenced the previously noisy room. Amelia was the first to exclaim in disbelief, “You, what are you talking about?!” “How can you be Scarlett Miller’s mother?” My mother looked utterly bewildered. “Why can’t I be Scarlett’s mother?” “Today is my in-law’s birthday. I specifically traveled from my hometown to celebrate her birthday. My in-law and Mike both know me.” “Young lady, why would you think I’m not Scarlett’s mother?” My mother was used to country life. For so many years, other than attending my wedding in the city, she rarely came to town. Even when she came to bring Mike her homemade goods, she would travel there and back on the same day, not even stopping for a meal. So most of the people present didn’t recognize my mother. Hearing my mother’s words, everyone was stunned. Each person stared at my mother as if they’d seen a ghost, their eyes wide with suspicion. Just then, Mike snapped out of his shock. He stared intently at my mother, and after confirming she was a living person, he asked in a shaky voice, “Mom, you… you’re not dead?” My mother was taken aback by Mike’s inexplicable question. She frowned slightly, looking at Mike with confusion. “Silly child, what are you saying?” “I’m perfectly fine; why would I be dead?” “I just spent several hours on the bus to get here. Although I’m tired, I’m perfectly healthy.” Seeing my mother indeed unharmed, Samantha also froze. She looked at my mother and asked curiously, “Did you go to Cloud Perch restaurant this afternoon?” My mother looked bewildered. “Cloud Perch restaurant? No, I didn’t.” “I was on the long-distance bus to the city all afternoon. I just arrived a short while ago and came straight to the hotel by taxi.” As she spoke, she pulled out a crumpled long-distance bus ticket from her old cloth bag, showing the departure and arrival times. Seeing that my mother had indeed only just gotten off the bus, everyone present was stunned. “What’s going on? Didn’t Amelia say Scarlett Miller’s mother went to Cloud Perch restaurant to freeload this afternoon?” “Yeah, at that time, her mother hadn’t even gotten off the bus yet, how could she have gone to the restaurant?” “Did Amelia mistake someone else for her?” Mike frowned at the bus ticket in my mother’s hand, then looked at Amelia, perplexed. “Amelia, didn’t you say Scarlett’s mother went to Cloud Perch restaurant to freeload this afternoon?” “If the person who died in your restaurant isn’t her mother, then who is it?” 7 Faced with Mike’s question, Amelia’s face paled. “I, I don’t know either.” “I just saw that person kept muttering Scarlett Miller’s name, so I naturally assumed she was Scarlett Miller’s mother.” As she spoke, Amelia’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she said mournfully, “Now it seems Sister Scarlett must have been unhappy that you gave me the Cloud Perch restaurant, so she deliberately invited someone to cause trouble at the restaurant.” Hearing this, Mike’s brow immediately furrowed, his face as dark as if it could wring out water. Samantha nodded thoughtfully. “Brother, I think Amelia’s explanation makes sense.” “This must all be Scarlett Miller’s doing.” “Otherwise, she clearly knew the person who died wasn’t her mother, so why didn’t she speak up? Instead, she let us misunderstand?” “She must have a guilty conscience and didn’t dare to say anything!” I almost laughed at Samantha’s words. “I’ve been saying it all along, you just never listened.” Hearing this, Mike frowned. “What did you say?” “That the person who died in the restaurant was my mother?” “How could we possibly believe something so ridiculous?” The guests all nodded in agreement. “Exactly! How could the elder Mrs. Davies go to Cloud Perch restaurant to freeload? I think she’s just deliberately trying to annoy people!” “Most likely she’s jealous of Amelia’s competence, it’s her green-eyed monster acting up, so she came here to deliberately make a scene.” “Mr. Davies gave Amelia the Cloud Perch restaurant specifically because he admires her management abilities. What’s wrong with that?” “If not given to a talented person like Amelia, should it have been given to a housewife who only knows how to embarrass people?” Listening to the guests’ comments, Mike’s gaze at me grew even colder. “Scarlett Miller, I originally thought you were just lacking common sense. I never expected you to be so petty and malicious.” “Marrying a woman like you is truly the greatest shame of my life, Mike Davies!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391089”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

At seventeen, Blaine and I discovered we were living inside a sappy romance novel. He was the hero; I was just an extra. Blaine, furious, tore the book to shreds. “I don’t care about being that hero, and I certainly won’t fall for anyone else!” he declared to me. At twenty-two, just as the book had foretold, I was set to leave the country. Blaine ran his fingers through my hair, a promise in his voice. “When you come back, we’ll get married.” At twenty-seven, I returned. To attend Blaine’s wedding to the heroine. 1. An hour before the banquet was set to begin, I stood in the hotel lobby, lost in thought before the welcome sign. “Groom: Blaine Miller; Bride: Summer Ashton.” It felt like seventeen again. I’d pulled an unmarked book from a library shelf, only to see the cover proclaim: “Hero: Blaine Miller; Heroine: Summer Ashton.” It was like a Pandora’s Box, terrifying to open, impossible to ignore. “What’re you looking at?” Seventeen-year-old Blaine had appeared out of nowhere. He leaned over me, resting his head loosely on my shoulder. “What idiot used my name to write a novel?” He snatched the book, grumbling as he read. “What a dumb name, Summer Ashton. The person I like is clearly named Autumn Hayes!” “Autumn, where’s my Autumn…” His voice grew softer, more hesitant, as he flipped through the pages, until his face turned stark white. The book chronicled a romantic love story between Blaine, at twenty-two, and the heroine. Everything in it, except for the future, perfectly mirrored our reality. And his Autumn? Just a footnote in the background, a memory. “I don’t care about being that hero, and I certainly won’t fall for anyone else!” Blaine’s eyes burned red with anger as his hands trembled, tearing the book apart. “Autumn, don’t you believe it. That person… that’s definitely not me…” I said nothing. Seventeen-old Blaine held me close, choking back sobs and muttering defiantly, “I hate summer.” “Autumn, from now on, I’ll hate summer more than anything.” The boy’s choked cries faded under the growing din. I snapped back to reality, feeling the sunlight creeping onto my shoulder. Following the golden ray, I looked out the window, a sudden realization hitting me. It was summer. 2. “A wedding in the middle of summer? It’s sweltering.” A woman wiped her brow as she entered the hotel, complaining to her companion. “Did you check the calendar? Today isn’t a particularly auspicious day. What were the Millers thinking?” “Blaine’s just eager to get married, I guess. I heard he proposed to her five times before she finally said yes!” her companion said, proudly sharing the gossip. “The Millers have been planning this wedding for years, so once she agreed, they pulled it all together in seven days.” “Wow, Blaine must really love that Summer Ashton girl…” The woman’s exclamations drifted away with their footsteps. I couldn’t help but wonder. How much did the Blaine in the book love Summer? So much that, after knowing her for only six months, he began quietly planning every detail of their wedding. So much that, despite their mutual affection, he spent five years cautiously making his way into her world, held back by his own fear. This was a man known for his impatience, his bold and unrestrained nature. Yet, he loved her so much that he had completely forgotten… At seventeen, he’d picked up a torn piece of the shredded book. On a blank space, he childishly scrawled: “I, Blaine Miller, hereby warn every author who spins tales: First, Blaine Miller is not to be a hero; second, the only name Blaine Miller loves is Autumn Hayes; third…” “Unwavering by any will, Blaine Miller will forever, always, only love Autumn Hayes!” “Mom, what does this say?” A little girl stood before the welcome wall, pointing at a line of text. I followed her gaze, finally noticing the words: “With this grand ceremony, we invite you to witness our decision to walk hand-in-hand through life. — Blaine Miller & Summer Ashton” 3. Fifteen minutes had passed. I was still foolishly standing at the entrance, lacking the courage to take a single step. “Autumn.” A familiar voice suddenly called from behind me. I had just turned around when I was urgently pulled by the arm. “It really is you… Autumn, you’re finally back.” I was enveloped in a slender, fragrant embrace, a silent sob catching in my ear. A bitter taste filled my throat, and I managed to choke out, “…Aunt Carol.” Blaine’s mother let out a distressed sob, then quickly covered her mouth. “Yes, yes, I’m so sorry, Autumn…” After high school graduation, it was Blaine’s eighteenth birthday. He’d invited me to the Miller estate under the guise of celebrating. The moment we stepped through the door, we ran into his mother. “Mom, let me introduce you. This is your future daughter-in-law, Autumn Hayes.” Blaine’s arm was around my shoulder, his tone confident and proud. “Autumn, this is Mom, your future mother-in-law… Mmph!” I stood on my tiptoes to cover Blaine’s mouth just as Aunt Carol delivered a sharp flick to his forehead. Amidst Blaine’s yelp of pain, we both paused, then exchanged smiles. That was my first meeting with Aunt Carol. It set the tone for all our interactions thereafter — Blaine causing mischief, me trying to rein him in, and Aunt Carol cleaning up. In the end, we all laughed. On my twentieth birthday, Aunt Carol gave me the Miller family heirloom jade bracelet. She solemnly promised, “Autumn, if Blaine ever wrongs you, I’ll kick him out of the house and disown him!” Today, Aunt Carol was apologizing to me. I hugged her back, gently patting her on the back. All I could offer in return was a quiet, “Aunt Carol, it’s not your fault.” 4. Aunt Carol was the first to let go. “Autumn, this isn’t the place for catching up.” She quickly wiped her eyes, regaining her composure as a polite host. “It’s hot outside; come in and sit down.” I lowered my head, letting her take my hand, and unexpectedly found myself stepping into the banquet hall. After just two steps, Aunt Carol suddenly stopped, her voice tense. “Autumn, don’t misunderstand…” I looked up, puzzled, and instantly saw the wedding decorations. Golden wheat ears intertwined with sunflowers, set against various autumn-colored flowers, creating a romantic rustic scene. Scarecrows stood on either side, country-style bamboo baskets filled with fruits and vegetables, and a crescent moon hung above the stage… It was like a Van Gogh painting. Like stepping from summer directly into autumn. My breath hitched. “Autumn, don’t misunderstand, the wedding was arranged quickly, this setup was done by Blaine years ago, there wasn’t time to…” I gripped Aunt Carol’s hand tightly, interrupting her abruptly. “Aunt Carol, where is Blaine now?” “Autumn…” My gaze fixed on the tip of that moon on the stage, where a single, striking wheat ear blossomed. Perhaps a single grain of wheat had slipped from God’s palm, carried by the wind to this very spot? With a flicker of undeserved hope, I stubbornly asked again, “Aunt Carol, where is Blaine now?” Aunt Carol fell silent. After a long moment, she sighed. “He’s taking wedding photos with Summer… They’re in Room 1019.” I turned, and without a moment’s hesitation, ran out. In the blur of rapidly passing, noisy scenes, a strange illusion struck me. Seventeen-year-old Blaine was waiting for me. 5. But in truth, my entire story with Blaine began when I was sixteen. The first day of junior year, after class assignments were posted, I walked into the classroom early, instinctively heading for the front row. A wisp of osmanthus scent suddenly drifted into my nose, like an invisible pull. I deviated from my usual spot, choosing a window seat in the back, closer to the osmanthus tree. The classroom slowly filled with noise, but I buried my head in a book until a commotion beside me. Blaine dramatically slammed his backpack onto the desk. He wore a crisp white shirt, looking down at me, a casual eyebrow raised as he asked, “Hey, classmate, what’s your name?” His expression and tone were nonchalant, yet I sensed a hint of displeasure. Confused, I glanced at him. “Autumn Hayes.” Blaine scoffed. “I asked for your name, not your age.” “…” I lowered my head, ignoring him. My first impression of him was: this guy isn’t very bright. During introductions, I stood on stage and said, “My name is Autumn Hayes.” He leaned back in his chair, lounging in the audience, and asked, almost looking for a fight, “Which ‘Hayes’?” I looked at him again, expressionless. “Like a field of hay.” He feigned understanding, drawing out a long, “Ohhh~” I walked back to my seat, bewildered, only to see him suddenly extend his hand toward me. “Nice to meet you.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Hey, Miss Hay.” I tripped over the chair leg. And realized with a profound sense of despair: I was now desk-mates with a not-so-bright classmate. 6. Later, I learned that Blaine was the notorious troublemaker of our high school. The back-row window seat was unofficially his territory, and I had “stolen” it. When he asked for my name, his unspoken question was, “Hey, how dare you sit in my spot?” I thought it was incredibly childish. Perhaps because my parents worked abroad and I’d lived alone since freshman year, I was more mature than my peers, and quite reserved, with no friends. I wasn’t good at dealing with people like Blaine. He’d casually say to me, “Hey, Miss Hay, can I copy your homework?” He’d also, after playing basketball, walk through the crowded hallways directly to me. He’d smile and point to the untouched bottle of water in my hand, “Miss Hay, can I borrow a bottle of water? You don’t mind, right?” His demeanor and tone were laid-back, yet not presumptuous or rude. In fact, it was as if he considered himself exceptionally close to you. In my mind, I quietly categorized this trait as: bad boy charm. Until one day, I saw him reject a bottle of water offered by another girl on the sports field. His reason: “Sorry, but I never accept things from girls. Don’t want to cause any misunderstandings.” The girl was indignant. “But you took water from your desk-mate!” “That’s because I borrowed it from her,” Blaine said, tilting his head and smiling. “Besides, there’s no misunderstanding between us.” What did he mean? I froze a short distance away, experiencing a mental short circuit for the first time in my life. But the moment Blaine glanced sideways and saw me, his smile spread to the corners of his eyes. He walked toward me, step by deliberate step. “Miss Hay, are you wondering right now: Blaine seems to treat me a little specially?” He leaned slightly, hands on his knees, and peered up into my eyes. “No need to wonder.” His face glowed in the backlight as he declared, “Miss Hay, you are special.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391088”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My mom ran away pregnant twenty years ago, living under an assumed name, and gave birth to me. One day, I started dating a guy. I sent his photo to her. But my mom, looking panicked, told me to break up with him. Because his dad was my biological father. I was stunned: So, my boyfriend was actually my brother? In the end, Mom and I fled. My boyfriend and his dad went crazy. 1 “Mom, this is my boyfriend. Isn’t he handsome?” I sent my mom a photo. It was a stealth shot of my boyfriend, taken when he wasn’t looking. “Stardust and galaxies…” My phone rang. My mom. I answered, a hint of confusion in my voice. “Hey, Mom, what’s up?” Mom was silent for a long time on the other end. “Who’s the man in the picture?” “My boyfriend!” I boasted. “Handsome, right?” Mom’s voice sharpened. “I mean the one on the far side.” Mom’s tone was off. I sensed it immediately. I scrolled through my photo gallery to find the picture and realized I’d accidentally caught my boyfriend’s dad in the shot. I was surprised by Mom’s strong reaction, but I answered honestly. “That’s my boyfriend’s dad. We ran into him and sat down to chat for a bit.” Even now, I still cringe thinking about it. Blaine had come to pick me up from work for dinner, and we ran smack into his father. It was an impromptu meeting with the parents. Only then did I realize Blaine came from an exceptionally wealthy family. Because that face, his dad’s face, I’d seen it on TV. It belonged to the billionaire, Mr. Sterling Vance. “Mom, you have no idea how nervous I was. Blaine never even mentioned his dad was a billionaire.” Luckily, I hadn’t made a fool of myself. Silence continued on the other end of the line. I checked my phone; the call was still connected. “Mom, why aren’t you saying anything?” “Mom.” I called out several times before my mom finally spoke. What she said next utterly shocked me. “Autumn, you need to break up with Blaine.” I was bewildered. “Why?” Although they’d never met, I’d told Mom about Blaine more than once. Mom had always seemed quite pleased with him. Why the sudden change of heart? I poured myself a glass of water; my throat felt dry. After a long pause, Mom’s voice was melancholic. “Because he’s your father.” “Your biological father, that is.” The water I’d just sipped erupted from my mouth. I quickly set down the glass, luckily not choking. “Mom, you’ve got to be kidding me. You always said my dad’s grave had grass twenty feet high!” I was aghast. “No joke.” Mom sounded utterly resigned. “Autumn, you have to break up with him. No one in the Vance family is any good.” My mom’s voice was indignant. “Let me process this.” “Let me just process this.” I stared blankly at the succulents on the table. I never thought a cheesy novel plot would become my reality. My long-dead dad, resurrected. My handsome boyfriend, my actual brother? It wasn’t April Fools’ Day, was it? I wouldn’t give up. “Are you absolutely sure you’re not mistaken?” “No!” “So, you gave birth to Blaine?” “No.” “What?!” My voice shot up. “Mom, were you scammed?” Mom also seemed confused. “I don’t know. When I left him, he only had me.” Given that Blaine was three years older than me, and Mom, though usually a bit spacey, was undeniably beautiful… I was incredulous. “Mom, you didn’t get caught up in an affair, did you? Like those stories online where married men pretend to be single to date naive young women, only for the wife to show up later, revealing the deception?” Mom’s mind was still reeling. “Maybe. I remember hearing he was getting engaged, so I ran. Then I found out I was pregnant with you.” “Autumn, do you want to acknowledge him?” Mom asked, sounding torn. “No way. That jerk doesn’t deserve to be my father,” I retorted, disgusted. “He’s a billionaire, very rich,” Mom said seriously. “Still no. I love you the most,” I declared. To reassure her, I added, “Besides, I can earn enough to support you now.” Mom mumbled a few times, but ultimately said nothing more. 2. Having stumbled upon such a shocking secret, I suffered from insomnia for days. Blaine called me to go on dates, but I kept turning him down. I just didn’t know how to face him. A few days later, a sharp, impeccably dressed executive blocked my path. He introduced himself as Mr. Vance’s secretary. I sat in a coffee shop, stirring my drink. The secretary slid a card across the table to me. “There’s thirty million dollars on this card. Mr. Vance hopes you’ll never appear in Sterling City again.” I clenched my jaw. My goodwill toward the biological father I’d only met once plummeted to negative numbers. Even though I was planning to break up with Blaine anyway, I still felt a surge of indignation. I picked up the bank card with a sweet smile. The secretary opposite me briefly flashed a look of disdain, but quickly masked it. “Is this a voluntary gift?” “I wouldn’t want any unnecessary disputes later on.” The bank card spun once between my fingers. The secretary’s expression grew impatient, but he patiently explained. “Miss Hayes, rest assured, no one will pursue this. After all, the Vance family has vast assets; this small sum is nothing to them.” His tone was arrogant. I leaned back lazily in my chair. “The Vances are truly the wealthiest family in the country, quite generous. But I’ll still need Secretary Thorne to ask Mr. Vance to sign a voluntary gift receipt.” “After all, I’m just a common person, seeking peace of mind.” Secretary Thorne had no choice but to ask me to wait while he stepped aside to make a call. Blaine texted me: Baby, what are you doing? (Little bunny, sneaky.jpg) I didn’t reply. Soon, Secretary Thorne returned. “Mr. Vance agreed. Miss Hayes, please wait a moment longer.” Quickly, someone delivered the voluntary gift receipt, complete with Mr. Sterling Vance’s personal seal. I flicked the receipt, then stood up to leave. “Secretary Thorne, goodbye.” Secretary Thorne replied, “We hope, Miss Hayes, that you will uphold our agreement.” With thirty million dollars in hand, the smile on my face became a bit more genuine. “Of course.” “Don’t worry, I’ll break up with your eldest son the moment I get home.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391087”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1. My exceptional work had brought in millions for the company. Mr. Cruz, my boss, promised me a ten-thousand-dollar year-end bonus. But on the day the bonuses were handed out, he only gave me an envelope. Inside was his autographed photo. Just then, cheers erupted from my colleagues nearby: “Wow, my bonus is eight hundred and eighty dollars!” “Eight hundred and eighty? Mine’s eighteen hundred and eighty!” “Long live the boss, so generous!” Many people looked over at me. “Vivian, what did the boss give you? Is ten thousand in cash or gold bars?” I waved the autographed photo in my hand. My colleagues blinked in confusion, then a ripple of schadenfreude spread across their faces. I turned to Mr. Cruz. “Mr. Cruz, this isn’t a joke, is it?” He looked at me sternly. “What? Is my autographed photo not worth ten thousand dollars?” … Realizing Mr. Cruz genuinely intended to fob me off with a signed photo, my face fell. Whispers from my colleagues reached my ears. “Haha, Vivian just got played by Mr. Cruz.” “Serves her right. If she really got ten thousand, I wouldn’t be able to sleep from jealousy.” “But Vivian did work incredibly hard last year. Without her, our company wouldn’t have made so much money.” “What good is hard work? If the boss doesn’t like you, all that effort is for nothing.” I gritted my teeth, fuming, and returned to my cubicle. Staring at Mr. Cruz’s greasy autographed photo, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the trash. Just then, I heard Mr. Cruz’s emotionless voice. “Vivian, step into my office for a moment.” Holding back a surge of anger, I entered his office. He sat in his executive chair, slowly sipping tea, saying nothing, leaving me to stand there. A few minutes later, he finally said, his voice low, “The year-end bonuses were distributed, and I noticed you seemed a bit… displeased.” I didn’t bother with pleasantries. I just nodded. Of course. A ten-thousand-dollar bonus turning into an ugly photo of an old man? Anyone would be displeased. Mr. Cruz sighed. “Vivian, you still haven’t grasped my deeper meaning.” I blinked, looking at him, puzzled. Mr. Cruz continued, “You’re still young. You need to take a long-term view, not just focus on material things. Your eyes shouldn’t only be on money.” I almost laughed out loud. My eyes shouldn’t only be on money? I worked to earn money. Though I didn’t say it, my disdainful expression was not lost on Mr. Cruz. He snorted. “Vivian, you still don’t understand what I’m trying to say.” “Your primary task right now is to learn, to gain experience, to build your network.” “A ten-thousand-dollar bonus is indeed a lot. But compared to connections, it’s nothing.” “With good connections, let alone ten thousand, millions, tens of millions, are all within easy reach.” He stood up, patted my shoulder. “Vivian, do you think I give out my autographed photo to just anyone?” “This is my seal of approval, proof that I consider you one of my inner circle.” I remained silent, but quietly clenched my fists. Again with the empty promises. From the day I joined the company, Mr. Cruz always told me to work hard, saying he wouldn’t shortchange his “own people.” What followed was unpaid overtime, no holidays… a year of working day and night, only to receive a few platitudes and no tangible benefits. So, being one of his “own people” meant becoming a patsy. This time, I wouldn’t tolerate it. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “Mr. Cruz, today I received your photo. So, I’m one of your ‘own people’ now?” Mr. Cruz nodded vigorously. “Precisely.” I said, “Then, as one of your ‘own people,’ what benefits do you intend to give me? It can’t all be beneficial to you, can it?” Mr. Cruz’s face hardened. “Vivian, why do you keep bringing up benefits?” “Isn’t your leader’s trust enough?” I sneered. “If that’s the case, then perhaps you shouldn’t consider me one of your ‘own people.’” “Outsiders get bonuses worth thousands, but ‘insiders’ get nothing? Does that seem fair?” “According to your earlier promise, just give me the ten thousand dollars.” Mr. Cruz slammed his hand on the desk in anger. But I wasn’t intimidated; I stared him directly in the eyes. Mr. Cruz suddenly sneered. “Vivian, do you think I don’t want to give you a bonus?” “I’m afraid others wouldn’t agree.” I paused. “What does this have to do with anyone else?” 2. Mr. Cruz said coolly, “You’ve taken quite a few days off this year, haven’t you?” “My colleagues might not say anything, but they all have their thoughts.” “My not giving you a bonus today is to give them a clear explanation.” “You’re a senior employee. I didn’t want to say this to your face.” “But since you’re so oblivious, and even have the nerve to come asking for money, I have no choice but to be blunt.” My face flushed red, and I said exasperatedly, “I only took a week off in total, and I worked overtime afterward, so I’ve more than made up for it!” “Mr. Cruz, how many times have I worked overtime this year?” “I’m not boasting, but without me on 24-hour standby, ensuring the company’s data security, our company would have been hacked long ago.” Mr. Cruz said dismissively, “Vivian, isn’t maintaining the company’s network security part of your job description?” “You get paid to do your work. Is that a great achievement?” “You took a week off and you’re still acting self-righteous?” I said urgently, “Why did I take time off? I had to go to the hospital to take care of my mother. You know that.” “Mr. Cruz, doesn’t everyone have a sick family member?” “You should know, I’m counting on this ten thousand dollars for my mother’s medical treatment.” Mr. Cruz didn’t respond. Instead, he calmly took a sip of his tea. I suddenly understood. He dared to treat me this way because he knew my mother was ill. He was banking on me needing the money, afraid to resign, which is why he was so brazenly oppressing and humiliating me. Mr. Cruz pointed to the door. “Out. I’ll observe your performance for a while. If you do well, I might consider giving you the bonus.” More empty promises. I bit my lip and left. … After work, I went to the hospital. I had told my mother several times that once my year-end bonus came in, she could have her surgery. But now… At her bedside, I forced a smile, not wanting my mother to notice anything amiss. But my parents quickly sensed my low spirits. As I was leaving, my mother suddenly hugged me gently. “Vivian, it’s alright. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself.” I murmured a soft “Mm-hmm,” and tears streamed down my face, unstoppable. After my parents were asleep, I dialed a number. For the past six months, Starlight Systems, a Fortune 500 company, had been trying to poach me. But Mr. Cruz always said he was my mentor, that he had given me a platform to showcase my talents, and I should be grateful. I was too naive, believed these manipulative words, and never resigned from Mr. Cruz’s company. But now… once bitten, twice shy. I had seen his true colors and was no longer so naive and innocent. Starlight Systems was ecstatic to hear I was willing to switch jobs. The salary they offered was five times what Mr. Cruz paid me. The next day, I arrived at Mr. Cruz’s company on time, intending to hand over my work and fulfill my last duty. But to my surprise, my workstation was gone. In its place was a trash can. My personal belongings were haphazardly piled in a corner. My colleagues all looked at me with smug delight, as if they’d been waiting for my downfall. I stormed off to find Mr. Cruz, only to discover he was meeting with a client. Next to him, my colleague Charlotte was pitching their services. The client nodded repeatedly, saying, “Mr. Cruz, I hear you have a talented individual at your company named Vivian. She’s a leader in the industry.” “She must have contributed significantly to your company reaching this scale, right?” Mr. Cruz sneered. “Her? All reputation, no substance. Her skills are completely outdated.” Mr. Cruz pointed to Charlotte. “Actually, all our company’s data security is handled by Charlotte.” “As for Vivian, well, she just relied on her seniority to claim credit, essentially bullying new hires.” “From now on, any issues, just connect with Charlotte.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391086”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel