Every night during FaceTime calls with my long-distance boyfriend, I noticed traces of another woman in his apartment. A pair of pink thongs on the sofa, a used condom on the hardwood floor… But every single time, someone had an excuse ready for him. His sister, Victoria, said, “Oh, I left those panties there. Don’t overthink it, sweetie.” His best friend, Tyler, said, “That condom was mine. Ethan threw a party last week, and I brought my girl over.” On Ethan’s birthday, I decided to fly back to Los Angeles without telling him, wanting to give him a surprise. Instead, I walked straight into his backyard wedding. A massive floral arch read: “Congratulations to Ethan and Chloe. Together Forever.” And there was Ethan, standing on the stage, passionately kissing another girl. I bit my lip so hard it bled. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to our mutual SnapChat group: “Who is Chloe? I just received her wedding invitation today.” The group went dead silent. A moment later, my best friend, Serena, broke the silence: “Chloe is my friend. I helped her mail the invitations, and I accidentally put in the wrong address. Sorry, Natalie.” My heart froze. It turned out that for the past three years, it wasn’t just my boyfriend who betrayed me. It was every single one of them.

The moment I pushed open the doors, pink roses flooded my vision, and blue dolphin balloons floated in the air. It was exactly the wedding I had fantasized about a thousand times. The bride was surrounded by a crowd. The gorgeous mermaid bridal gown she wore was a carbon copy of the design draft I had kept on my computer for three years. A design draft I had only ever shown to Serena. A wave of dizziness hit me as the sheer absurdity of the situation rushed to my head. Just then, a lady at the reception desk stopped me. “Hi, honey, are you a guest of the bride or the groom?” Everyone turned to look. The moment they saw my face, a collective gasp echoed through the room. The bride looked at Ethan, confused. “Who is she?” “Just a colleague from the New York branch. It was a last-minute invite, so she didn’t get a formal card,” Ethan replied smoothly. His voice was calm, as if he hadn’t just told me how much he missed me on FaceTime last night. Serena squeezed through the crowd, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me out. She whispered harshly, “All the family and friends are here, Natalie. Don’t do anything crazy. We can talk about this tomorrow.” I stared at her in silence. Serena dragged me into the emergency exit stairwell before letting go. “Chloe spent three months planning this wedding. She lost almost ten pounds from the stress. We just want today to be perfect for her.” Her very first words were about her pity for Chloe. “What about me?” my voice cracked as I stared into her eyes. “I’ve spent three years in New York, working day and night, too afraid to even take a sick day. I saved every single hour of my paid time off just to fly back and see him.” Tears fell uncontrollably. I remembered how she would always see me off at the airport, hugging me and promising, “Don’t worry, Natalie. I’ll keep an eye on Ethan for you. No basic bitch is going to steal my bestie’s man.” It turned out I was the only fool who took that promise seriously. “Natalie, Chloe is different from you.” “How is she different?” “You’re strong. You can survive without Ethan. But Chloe has a congenital heart condition. Ethan has been the only one taking care of her.” “And when she graduated, Ethan was the one who asked the Chairman to transfer you to New York. He did it because he didn’t want you to find out about her and make things difficult.” It felt like a lightning bolt struck my brain. I froze. When I first got the transfer notice, I wanted to decline it. I had just bought a house in LA and wanted to bring my sick mother over to get better medical treatment. But Ethan practically begged me. He said, “Natalie, my promotion to the Board of Directors depends entirely on this New York project. You’re the only one I trust to handle it.” “Just three months, I promise. I’ll bring you back, and then we’ll get married.” So I agreed. But three months turned into another three, and the distance between Los Angeles and New York never shrunk. My throat burned with dry pain. “So, the transfer requests I sent to return to LA over the last three years…” Before I could finish, Serena’s eyes filled with pity. “Ethan blocked every single one of them.” I stumbled back a step. I missed my mother’s kidney transplant surgery. I missed the moments she needed me most in her hospital bed. I even missed… her last breath. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Ethan. [Go home first. I’ll explain everything to you tonight.] I stared at the words, my fingers gripping the phone until my knuckles turned white. Then, I turned around and walked right back into the ballroom.

But this time, the family was prepared. Before I could even reach the ballroom doors, Ethan’s sister, Victoria, caught up to me in her high heels. “Natalie, I know you’re hurting, but Ethan has sacrificed a lot for you over the years, too. Don’t make a scene today.” Just last month, she was teasing us about when we would get married, promising a massive wedding gift. Beside her, Ethan’s best friend, Tyler, blocked the door. “Natalie… look, Ethan is a total jerk for this, but all the guests are watching. Do you really want to ruin his entire life?” Last month, when his mother was sick and he was short on cash, I lent him ten thousand dollars. He had literally cried, telling me that if Ethan ever treated me wrong, he would be the first to stand up for me. Now, more and more people blocked my path. Former friends, subordinates I had promoted, colleagues I used to grab lunch with… I tried to push through them, screaming and crying like a wounded animal. “Enough!” A sharp voice cut through the chaos, and the crowd parted. Ethan stood three paces away, looking dashing as ever in his tailored suit. Meanwhile, my hair was a mess, my collar torn, and my dress covered in dirty footprints from the scuffle. He stared at me in silence for a few seconds. His throat bobbed, and his voice sounded raw. “Natalie, you can ruin me however you want later. But Chloe has a weak heart. She can’t handle stress. Please, I’m begging you, don’t do this in front of her.” It was the first time I had ever seen Ethan bow his head. Once, when a client tried to humiliate him by forcing him to drink a table full of hard liquor, he drank until his stomach bled rather than apologize. But now, for another woman, he was begging me. The pain in my chest was suffocating. With tears streaming down my face, I choked out the words: “Ethan, you are a disgusting piece of trash!” I grabbed his collar and slapped him across the face three times. The sharp cracks echoed down the hallway. Ethan’s face was whipped to the side, swelling instantly. He wiped a trace of blood from his lip. “Are you done? If not, you can keep going.” His tone was almost indulgent, like he was comforting a throwing-a-tantrum child. Looking at his confident face and the calm, enabling crowd behind him, those three slaps suddenly felt like they hit nothing. They were absolutely sure I still loved him. They were sure I wouldn’t actually ruin him, and that once I threw my tantrum, I would quietly leave. My heart grew colder by the second. I let go of his collar and stepped back. A flash of surprise crossed Ethan’s eyes, his brow furrowing. “Natalie…” “Ethan, these five years, I’ll just pretend I…” Before I could finish, the ballroom doors swung open, and a soft, fragile voice called out, “What… what’s going on here?” Chloe stood at the doorway, looking like a fragile porcelain doll. The coldness in Ethan’s eyes melted instantly, his voice softening. “Why did you come out? It’s cold out here. You shouldn’t catch a chill.” Seeing the bruises on his face, Chloe gasped, covering her mouth. “What happened? Ethan, who did this to you?” Ethan quickly turned his face away. “Nothing, I just bumped into something. I’ll have the makeup artist touch it up.” Chloe clenched her fists, her eyes darkening for a split second before she suddenly grabbed my arm. “Natalie, right? Since you’re here, why don’t you come in and have a drink with us?” She dragged me into the ballroom before I could resist. At that moment, the giant projector screen was playing a slideshow of their love story. On March 21st, when I worked three consecutive all-nighters just to fly back for our anniversary and ended up hospitalized from exhaustion… They were watching the sunrise on a beach, kissing in the warm morning light. On June 7th, when a massive storm hit New York and my flight faced such severe turbulence that I wrote Ethan a final love letter in terror… They were stargazing on a mountain peak, making vows under a shooting star. On August 19th, on Valentine’s Day, when I was eating instant ramen and spending my last dollar to buy him an apology gift because I couldn’t be there… Ethan was holding 999 roses, proposing to Chloe surrounded by cheering friends and family. Each picture felt like a burning dagger, slicing my heart to pieces. I bit my lip so hard I could taste copper, refusing to let them see me cry. “Natalie, now you know what it looks like when Ethan actually loves someone,” Chloe whispered. I looked at her in shock. A sinister, smug smile played on her lips. The next second, the ballroom speakers suddenly blasted a loud, embarrassing moan. On the giant screen, my face appeared—flushed, looking at the camera, doing something private while calling out Ethan’s name.

My brain short-circuited. I whipped my head to look at Ethan. He rushed onto the stage, grabbed a chair, and smashed the screen to pieces. That video was taken on his birthday last year. He had begged me to record it for him. He had sworn on his life that no one else would ever see it. Yet here it was, broadcasted in front of hundreds of guests. Chloe burst into tears, stumbling back a few steps right next to the microphone. She pointed at me, her shaking voice echoing through the speakers: “So you’re the one… you’re the mistress who’s been sending him explicit videos to seduce him!” Every eye in the room turned on me like daggers. “I didn’t… mmph!” A hand suddenly clamped tightly over my mouth from behind, dragging me backward. Serena stepped up to the stage, bowing and apologizing to Chloe in front of everyone: “I am so sorry, Chloe. I had no idea Natalie would be this psychotic. I can’t believe she would play this kind of video at your wedding.” “As her friend, I apologize for her disgusting behavior and her cheap attempt to ruin your special day.” With that, she gave Chloe a deep bow. That bow sealed my fate as the malicious mistress. The whispers and curses of the guests flooded my ears like a tidal wave. “So she’s just a homewrecker making a scene. How disgusting.” “How shameless do you have to be to play that trash at a wedding?” “Chloe has a heart condition! What if she has a heart attack? This woman is pure evil!” I don’t know who started it, but someone threw a plate of leftover food at me. Someone else kicked me in the legs during the chaos… I was practically dragged out of the venue. Serena ran out after me. She sighed, pulling some tissues from her bag to wipe the stains off my dress. “Natalie, it is what it is. Stop being so stubborn.” “Chloe isn’t just anyone. Her family is the reason Ethan is getting on the board. You made a scene today, and with one phone call, the her family can make sure you never get a job in LA again.” “Everything I just did was for your own good.” “For my own good?” my voice was hoarse and broken. “You guys lied to me for three years, framed me as a mistress in public, and you call that ‘for my own good’?” Serena looked away, unable to meet my eyes. I shook Tyler’s hand off me, hailed a taxi, and got in. When I arrived at my hotel, a crowd was already gathered near the entrance, pointing and whispering. My face had been printed and pasted all over the hotel doors, alongside massive words painted in dripping red paint: [HOMEWRECKER GO TO HELL] Within an hour, someone had uploaded the wedding video to TikTok. My real name, job, and address were leaked online. The comment section was filled with venom. My boss sent me a WhatsApp message: [Natalie, due to the recent public controversy regarding your personal life, the company has decided to suspend you pending further investigation.] I clenched my teeth, apologized to the hotel staff, and grabbed a rag to scrub the paint off the door. The paint was stubborn, refusing to come off. I scrubbed until my fingernails cracked and bled against the metal doorframe. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. After a long time, exhausted from crying, I slumped against the wall and drifted into a restless sleep. My dreams were chaotic. Countless faces flashed by, finally stopping on the wedding stage. Ethan was looking down at me as I was dragged out, his eyes completely indifferent. I gasped, waking up from the nightmare. I stared at the lock screen photo of Ethan and me for a long time. Then, I stood up and opened my laptop. Why? Why should my five years of devotion be reduced to the word “homewrecker”? Why should the liars live happily ever after while I was pinned to a pillar of shame, cursed by the world? I did nothing wrong. I wasn’t going to take the blame. I compiled all my chat logs, flight tickets, and bank transfers with Ethan over the past five years and posted them online. Then, I booked the earliest flight back to New York, wanting to leave this cursed city. But just as I packed my bags and got into a Uber, a voice whispered from the shadows like a demon: “Natalie, why can’t you just learn to be good?”

I froze, the hairs on my arms standing up. Ethan slid into the seat next to me, his fingers gently brushing my cheek. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I really am. But baby, you shouldn’t have made that post.” I violently slapped his hand away. Tears fell onto my hands. He flinched slightly, opening his mouth to speak, but ultimately said nothing. The car didn’t go to the airport. It drove straight to the hospital. “Chloe saw your post and had a panic attack. She’s in the ICU now. You have to give her family an explanation today.” He dragged me out of the car, and I stumbled as he forced me into the VIP wing of the hospital. The private room was packed. Victoria, Tyler, Serena, and several members of Chloe’s wealthy family… The moment they saw me, their eyes turned into daggers. Ethan threw me onto the floor right in front of Chloe’s bed. “Apologize.” Chloe lay on the bed, her face pale, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Natalie, I have no grudge against you. Ruining my wedding wasn’t enough? Now you’re lying online saying Ethan cheated on you? What do you want from us?!” I stared at her, and suddenly, I laughed. “Do you honestly believe I was the one who seduced him?” “I was with Ethan for five years. We were long-distance for three. I don’t believe for a second you didn’t notice any clues.” The room fell dead silent. Victoria’s face paled, and she quickly stepped in. “Natalie, shut your mouth! Chloe is sick, don’t trigger her…” “Victoria,” Chloe interrupted, her voice weak but firm. “I want to speak with Natalie alone.” She forced a weak smile. “I’m sure she’s a reasonable person.” Ethan frowned, throwing me a warning glance before they all filed out. The moment the door clicked shut, the fragile look on Chloe’s face vanished completely. “Five years… of course I knew he had someone else. I’m not stupid.” “But so what? If I, Chloe, want something, I get it.” “I just didn’t expect Ethan to be so greedy. He wanted my family’s money, but he couldn’t let go of you either. He dragged it out for three years because he was too much of a coward to break up with you.” “I got tired of waiting.” She looked at me, her eyes icy and malicious. “So, I sent your mother a copy of our wedding invitation and the video of us. I told her that her precious daughter was a shameless mistress begging my fiancé for attention.” Her words felt like a bomb exploding in my head. I shook violently, staring at her in sheer disbelief. “What did you say?” Chloe’s smile grew wider and more twisted. “I wanted your mother to confront you herself, to teach her cheap daughter a lesson.” “Who knew she was so fragile? Before you could even book a flight back… her heart just gave out. She died right there.” “But you’re really stupid, aren’t you? Ethan told you she died of kidney failure, and you actually believed him. You didn’t even check the medical records.” “So, I had to push you a little harder.” “I was the one who leaked that video at the wedding. I was the one who leaked your personal info online.” She pointed at her hospital gown. “And right now, I’m faking this panic attack just to torture you. This is the price you pay for taking five years of Ethan’s life.” Every word she spoke felt like a rusty nail driven straight into my heart. Losing my mind, I lunged forward and wrapped my hands tightly around her neck. “You killed my mother! You monster!” Chloe choked, her face turning purple, but she was still laughing. She reached out, violently knocking a heavy glass vase off the nightstand. Shattering glass echoed through the room, and the door was kicked open instantly. “Chloe!” Ethan’s eyes widened in horror. He rushed in and kicked me hard in the chest. I flew backward like a broken doll, slamming heavily into the wall. “Natalie! Are you insane?!” Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed me by my hair, dragging me off the floor. “Get on your knees and apologize to Chloe!” With the last ounce of my strength, I pushed him away. I stumbled back until my spine hit the windowsill. We were on the 23rd floor. The window was slightly cracked, and the howling wind blew my tangled hair across my face. Ethan froze, stepping forward cautiously. “Stay back!” I screamed, leaning half of my body out of the open window. Just then… “Mr. Miller! We have a problem!” Ethan’s assistant burst into the room, panting and terrified. “The… the conversation in this room just now… it was live-streamed to your Snapchat account!” At the same time, heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway. Two police officers walked into the room, their badges shining under the fluorescent lights. “We received a report of harassment, blackmail, and wrongful death. Which one of you is Chloe?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443274”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On our tenth anniversary, I received a notification that David had died in a plane crash. The Jonathan family blamed me for his death, calling me a curse. That very night, they kicked me out of the house. To survive, I dragged my pregnant body through the wind and rain, working odd jobs and selling crafts at flea markets just to make ends meet. There were countless times I wanted to give up on life, until my best friend, Chloe, sent me a message. “Is this your husband?” I tapped on the photo. David’s face was slightly blurry. My mind went completely blank, and I frantically hit the FaceTime button. “Angle the camera closer! Please!” The moment the screen cleared, I froze, unable to utter a single word. David was wearing a tailored suit, down on one knee, holding a diamond ring that sparkled painfully bright. The woman in front of him had a flushed face, too shy to speak. The crowd around them was cheering. “Marry him! Marry him!” “Vivian, you have no idea how long David has been waiting for this day!” The woman was Vivian, David’s first love who was supposed to be living across the ocean. The attic in our house—a place his family never allowed me to enter—was filled with her photos. I glanced at my Snapchat chat history with David. Over the past two weeks, I had sent him more than 1,800 messages. All my breakdowns, my helplessness, my longing. None of them had ever received a reply. It turned out the man I had been mourning day and night was busy building a perfect family for another woman in a different city. Since that was the case, I would let him go.

Boom— Thunder rumbled, and a torrential downpour began outside. “Hey, Alice, are you still there?” Chloe’s voice came through the phone. I asked for the address, my hands shaking as I hung up. The Uber sped through the rain, and cold water dripped down my collar as I got out. On the way there, I had prayed a thousand times that this was just a sick joke. But then I arrived at the private restaurant and looked through the glass. Inside, Vivian accepted the proposal, and an ecstatic David pulled her into a tight embrace. The crowd erupted in cheers as confetti rained down on the happy couple. “You gotta kiss her!” someone shouted. “Stop teasing me,” Vivian blushed, burying her face in David’s chest. David smiled gently, protectively shielding her behind his back. “Vivian is shy. If you guys scare her off, I won’t let you off easy.” A few friends nearby continued to joke. “David, this move was brilliant. You got rid of that old hag and brought home the beauty!” “Aren’t you afraid that crazy wife of yours will find out and make a scene?” “Let her. David has been nice enough to her. Flying back and forth between countries all the time was exhausting anyway!” An old hag? I reached up and touched my pale, hollow cheeks. For the past ten years, I had given up my career to dedicate myself entirely to taking care of David. At only twenty-eight, I looked like I was forty. Meanwhile, the woman in David’s arms had flawless, glowing skin. She looked like an eighteen-year-old girl. It seemed she had been well-protected all these years. David casually pinched Vivian’s earlobe and spoke in a dismissive tone. “She’ll find out sooner or later. I only did this to avoid unnecessary drama.” “If she wants to make a scene, let her. If she wants to quietly remain Mrs. Jonathan, she has to accept Vivian.” The restaurant’s heater was blasting warm air, blowing over my drenched body. But I couldn’t stop shivering. My chest felt as if it were being violently crushed. The pain was so intense that I collapsed onto the cold ground. When the proposal ended, David dismissed the guests and led Vivian toward the penthouse suite. Numbly, I followed them up. Before they even reached the room, David seemed unable to control himself any longer. He pressed Vivian against the wall, kissing her passionately. His voice was deep and breathless. “You look so beautiful tonight.” “I’ve been holding back the urge to kiss you for so long.” The sound of their heavy breathing filled the hallway. Vivian’s jacket slipped to the floor. She giggled softly. “You made too much noise last night. Danny asked me this morning if we were fighting.” Clatter— My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor. The motion-sensor lights in the hallway immediately flared to life. Only then did they realize someone was standing at the end of the corridor. “Oh my gosh… Let’s go inside, this is so embarrassing!” Vivian whined, pushing David toward the door. David gave me a cold, detached look and dialed a number on his phone. “Come up and clear out this intruder. Vivian is getting uncomfortable.” Then, he leaned back down to kiss Vivian’s lips, smiling playfully. “Since when are you so shy? You weren’t like this last night.” “Your face is as red as an apple.” The keycard beeped, the door clicked open, and the moment it shut, the hallway fell back into silence. A few burly security guards dragged me out like trash and threw me onto the wet pavement outside. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I curled into a ball and sobbed hysterically. Ten years. I had loved David with every fiber of my being for ten whole years. I still remembered our wedding night. David had drunk a lot of alcohol, his eyes incredibly red. He had knelt before me, holding my hands tightly, and sworn an oath. “Alice, now that I’ve married you, you’re the only one for me for the rest of my life.” He had held me and talked for hours. I had been so tired back then, and because I missed responding to a few of his words, he had actually pouted. “Do you not love me anymore?” I had laughed all night because of that one childish question. That night, we held each other and talked until dawn. It was so beautiful it felt like a dream. But in our fifth year of marriage, David received a letter from abroad. He began going on irregular business trips, sometimes disappearing for months. It was during one of those trips that I miscarried our first child. The doctor said the miscarriage had severely damaged my body, making it hard for me to conceive again. I cried hysterically on the phone, questioning David. But he, far away in another country, remained silent for a long time before saying coldly, “I’m busy with work. We don’t need to rush the baby thing.” I told him I would wait. Finally, another five years passed. When I unexpectedly got pregnant again, I was so excited. I wanted to wait until he returned from his trip on our anniversary to give him a surprise. Instead, I received news of his plane crash. Thinking back to Vivian’s words now, I cried until I choked. His busy work was all a lie. He just didn’t want to have a child with me. My lower abdomen began to throb painfully, and my heart felt as if it were being torn open. I completely blacked out.

When I woke up again, I was in a hospital. The pungent smell of disinfectant filled my nose. My messy hair was splayed across my face. The ward was crowded, with four beds crammed together. Every other patient had family members accompanying them. I was the only one left alone, looking like a beggar. I never could have imagined that I, a graduate from an Ivy League university, would end up this pathetic. For David, I had rejected prestigious job offers arranged by my mentor. I had thrown everything away just to run to him. Even when I heard he had died in a crash, my first instinct had been to follow him to the grave. Because I loved him. Looking at my pale reflection in the small mirror on the wall, tears streamed down my face. A kind nurse, pitied my state, brought me a cup of warm water. “Ma’am, your fetal heart rate is highly unstable. You are in serious danger of miscarrying. Should I call your family for you?” Family? Other than David, whose name was on our marriage certificate, I had no one else. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up. The video of David and Vivian’s engagement was going viral on YouTube. The news headlines were everywhere: “Heir to the Jonathan Group Survived the Crash, Returning to Marry His True Love.” In the video, David had his arm around Vivian, smiling as he accepted congratulations from the media. I gripped the bedsheets so hard my knuckles turned white. The nurse took my phone, intending to call my pinned contact. In a panic, I snatched it back, my voice trembling. “No… no need. I want to be discharged.” I fled the hospital, dragging my frail, broken body out into the street. I was terrified of anyone seeing how pathetic I had become. I ran aimlessly until I bumped into a solid chest. A familiar, cold scent of expensive cologne filled my senses. I snapped my head up. David was holding a little boy with his left hand and Vivian with his right. My ears began to ring. He patted Vivian’s head and murmured something to her. The woman gave me a disdainful glare before leading the child over to a nearby bench. Like a marionette, I was dragged by David into an empty hallway. “I assume you know everything by now. I won’t beat around the bush.” He looked at my sickly, pale face, a flash of something dark and unreadable crossing his eyes. “I have already announced to the public that Vivian is my wife,” he said, suddenly pulling me into his arms with what looked like genuine pain. “Just stay quietly by my side. Whatever you want, I will give it to you.” His hand was gently stroking my back, and the tenderness in his eyes didn’t look fake. But the words coming out of his mouth were ice-cold. In that instant, an overwhelming exhaustion washed over me. I looked up to meet his gaze and laughed. “So that was your excuse? Faking your death on a business trip?” “David, what have I been to you for the past ten years?” “Just a clown you could discard and play with whenever you wanted?” I tried to choke back my sobs, but the tears spilled over anyway. My cold tears fell onto David’s palm, making him freeze for a second. “No,” he said, suddenly gripping the back of my neck, showering my face with frantic, desperate kisses. “I just couldn’t let Vivian go. I lied to you because I didn’t want to hurt you.” Feeling my body trembling, he frowned and grabbed my cold hands. “Why are you so cold? Are you sick?” “I’ll take you to see a doctor.” He tried to pull me along. Just then, Vivian’s whimpering voice echoed from behind us. “David! Danny’s fever is getting worse! Why are you still over there?” David’s footsteps halted abruptly. A look of guilt crossed his face as he called his secretary over. “I’m sorry, Alice. I’ll have John take you.” I watched his retreating back, suddenly realizing that I didn’t even know when it had started—but David left me with the view of his back far more often than his face. I thought of every lonely midnight, of the nights I couldn’t sleep because of severe morning sickness. At this moment, all my sanity crumbled. I covered my ears, crouched down, and screamed at the top of my lungs. “David! What am I to you?! A substitute for Vivian? Your plaything?!” “Do I look like an idiot to you?!” My tears flowed freely, but no matter how hard I cried, David did not stop. He merely turned around, pinching the bridge of his nose with an impatient sigh. “Stop throwing a tantrum, Alice. You know I prefer you when you’re quiet and obedient.” “I’ll come see you after I’m done.” His hurried footsteps faded away. The secretary gave me a sympathetic look, trying to help me up to go to a ward. I brushed her hand away and walked out of the hospital on my own. Along the way, people pointed at me and whispered. “That’s the mistress. She tried to seduce Mr. Jonathan. Poor Mrs. Jonathan was crying so hard earlier…” “How shameless.” I felt like a criminal paraded through the streets. Accusations and slander rained down on me, triggering dark memories I had buried long ago.

Years ago, my mother had been driven to jump from a building because of my father’s infidelity. No one wanted to adopt me. It was David who had appeared like an angel, pulling me out of the darkness. He told me he would protect me forever, and I believed him. When his family forced him to break up with Vivian, I stayed by his side year after year. I had always believed we were each other’s salvation. Eventually, David fell in love with me. I thought he was my savior, but now, he was the one dragging me back into the dark. I ran back to the Jonathan estate like a madwoman. Ignoring everyone who tried to stop me, I tore up our marriage certificate and smashed our bedroom to pieces. Shards of glass cut into the soles of my feet, but I just kept crying like a lunatic who couldn’t find an answer. I didn’t understand. How could someone who loved me so much change so completely? Walking barefoot and numb along the sidewalk, I looked up at a giant digital billboard broadcasting a live interview. David and Vivian were holding hands, their son running circles around them happily. The host handed the microphone to Vivian. “Mrs. Jonathan, we heard that you two were each other’s first loves.” “After going through so much, you’ve finally ended up together. Mr. Jonathan must love you very much.” Vivian blushed, looking at David. David gave her a doting smile, gently took the microphone, and spoke. “My wife is a bit shy, so let me answer that.” He looked deeply into Vivian’s eyes and said clearly, “My wife is precious to me. I love her with all my heart.” The crowd below cheered. But my eyes were fixed on the mermaid-shaped necklace around Vivian’s neck. I remembered the years when I was plagued by nightmares of my past. David had stayed awake with me night after night. Later, because he hated seeing me suffer, he spent a fortune bidding at an auction for three days and nights just to win that mermaid necklace for me. Back then, he had held me close and whispered gently, “I want you to be like a mermaid—free and unbound.” “Don’t let the past lock you in. Just be yourself.” But that necklace had gone missing a year ago, and no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find it. It turned out he had given it to Vivian. I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall. Wiping them away, I listened to the wind howling in my ears as I dialed David’s number. “David, congratulations on your wedding.” “We are already divorced. I’m keeping the house and the car.” “Plus, half of your assets.” When the Jonathan family kicked me out, they had already finalized the paperwork under the pre-signed draft David’s mother had forced upon me. David probably didn’t even know yet. The interview had just ended, and the background was noisy. David didn’t hear me clearly. “What did you say?” “I’m busy right now. We’ll talk when I get back.” The corners of my mouth curled up into a soft, firm smile. “No need. It’s nothing important.” Without waiting for his reply, I hung up and called my lawyer to draft the asset division agreement. Before I could lock my phone, a notification popped up—a Snapchat video from Vivian’s public story. A child’s innocent voice could be heard in the background. “Daddy, it’s your turn to read me a bedtime story tonight.” “Alright, but tomorrow night you have to give Mommy back to me. You can’t keep hogging her.” “I need my wife, too.” The happy laughter of the three of them echoed from the speaker. I laughed until tears came out, then sent David a message. [This is the asset division agreement. If you have no objections, sign it.] Ten minutes later, David called me back. He sounded like he was driving. “What is this nonsense? We aren’t divorced, why are we dividing assets?” “Are you still throwing a tantrum?” “I promise you, I’ll come home early tonight to be with you.” I let out a soft laugh. “David, go back and be with them.” “I stopped begging for your company a long time ago.” I hung up and booked a one-way flight for that afternoon.

On the way to the airport, the Uber collided with a large truck. The vehicles were smoking, and the scene was absolute chaos. I lay on the cold asphalt, feeling the warm blood slowly pooling beneath me. Through my fading vision, the wail of sirens echoed in the distance. I was lifted onto a stretcher, and the ambulance sped away. The paramedic put an oxygen mask over my face. “The patient is pregnant and showing signs of a severe miscarriage! Call her emergency contact immediately!” They grabbed my phone and found the contact labeled “Husband.” But no matter how many times they dialed, only the cold, automated voicemail answered. The paramedic was sweating profusely. After countless attempts, the call was finally picked up. “Hello? Alice?” It was Vivian’s voice. The paramedic hadn’t expected a woman to answer. Quickly, he explained my life-threatening condition. A soft chuckle came from the other end. “I’m sorry, but my husband is in the shower right now. He doesn’t have time for strangers.” In the background, the sound of running water stopped. “If you go to her tonight, don’t bother coming back,” Vivian’s voice was playful but firm. Then, David’s voice came through, stabbing directly into my heart. “She’s not important compared to you.” “My wife is angry, why would I care about anyone else?” The call went dead. The paramedic looked at me with a complicated, sorrowful expression. I closed my eyes, and the last shred of lingering attachment in my heart vanished. “Do the surgery,” I whispered. “Save me. Terminate the pregnancy. I’ll sign the papers myself.” The surgery was completed quickly. I booked another flight for the next day. That night, David sent me several apology texts. [I had work last night. I’ll make time to be with you today.] [I rented out your favorite amusement park to make it up to you.] I didn’t reply to a single one. The next day, right before boarding, David sent me a video. In the video, he was standing inside the empty amusement park we used to visit. “I’ll have the driver pick you up soon. Wait for me.” “I set up a surprise for you here. You’re going to love it.” I watched the video expressionlessly, then blocked his number. I threw my SIM card into a trash can and boarded the plane.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443273”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I was the biological daughter they finally brought home, but I suffered from a severe, life-threatening peanut allergy. On my very first day back, my father set a brutal house rule: everything we wanted—from clothes to food—had to be decided by drawing cards. Only drawing the Ace of Hearts would get you what you asked for. For two years, I never drew it once. Meanwhile, Olivia, the adopted daughter, got the Ace of Hearts every single time. On the night of my worst allergic attack, my throat swelled shut. I knelt on the floor, begging them for my EpiPen. My father merely tossed the deck of cards at my face. “You know the rules. Draw the Ace of Hearts, and you get the medicine.” To survive, I hid an extra Ace of Hearts in my sleeve. But my brothers caught me. They crushed my fingers under their boots, kicked my EpiPen away, and locked me in the sub-zero basement freezer. They had no idea that was the last time I would ever beg them for help. My throat felt like it was clogged with burning, crushed glass. My airway was swelling and closing up at a terrifying speed. Clutching my neck in agony, I fell to my knees on the polished marble floor, gasping desperately for air. But nothing came. The lack of oxygen turned my face a dark, suffocating purple, the veins on my forehead bulging violently. “Medicine… please… give me…” With the last of my strength, I reached out and grabbed the hem of my father, Arthur’s, expensive suit pants. Today was my twentieth birthday. It was also Olivia’s. Just ten minutes ago, Olivia had hand-fed me a piece of her “specialty” birthday cake. I have a severe, lethal allergy to peanuts. Even a single crumb of peanut dust could trigger anaphylactic shock. And my entire family knew this. Arthur looked down at me from his towering height. There was no pity in his eyes, only deep, cold disgust. He slowly pulled a gold-rimmed deck of cards from his pocket and fanned them out across the coffee table with a sharp slide. “You know the rules of this house, Tori.” “If you want something, you rely on your luck.” “Draw the Ace of Hearts, and the EpiPen is yours. If not, you’ll just have to tough it out.” I was the biological daughter of the Sterling family, lost and raised in the slums for eighteen years. When they finally brought me back two years ago, I thought I finally had a family. But on my very first day, Arthur established this ridiculous rule. He said the Sterling family didn’t raise useless leeches. He said luck was a form of strength. My clothes, my allowance, even my three daily meals—everything had to be decided by drawing a card. I accepted it, weeping silently, hoping to please them. But for two whole years, no matter how I drew, that Ace of Hearts seemed to actively evade me. I never held it once. Meanwhile, Olivia—the girl who had stolen my life for eighteen years—somehow drew the Ace of Hearts with perfect, suspicious precision every single time. She won the master bedroom that belonged to me. She won my parents’ affection. She even won the right to go to the hospital when I was sick, leaving me to suffer in my room. “Come on, Tori. Draw your card.” Olivia, wearing a custom-made designer gown, clung affectionately to our eldest brother, Julian’s, arm. She blinked her innocent, doe-like eyes, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “If you don’t draw it, you’ll have to lie on the floor all night again, just like last time.” The air in my lungs was almost completely gone. My vision began to blur, and the only sound in my ears was my own violent, wheezing gasp. I knew that if I didn’t get that epinephrine shot right now, I would die on this floor. And this time, I wanted to live. My hand trembling violently, I reached toward the cards on the table. The moment my fingertips brushed the back of the deck, I used every ounce of my remaining strength to slide a card from my sleeve into my palm. It was a discarded card I had picked up by the road a few days ago. The Ace of Hearts. I flipped it over. The bright red heart, the sharp letter A. “It’s… the Ace of Hearts…” I gasped out the words, my eyes clinging to the emergency medicine box on the table. All I had to do was grab that pen, stab it into my thigh, and I would live. I reached out, my fingers inches away from the box. Smack! A large, heavy hand slammed down, grabbing my wrist so hard I heard my bones creak.

It was Julian. He let out a cold sneer and, with his other hand, flipped a card from the deck on the table. It was another Ace of Hearts. “Tori! You dare cheat in this house?!” Julian roared, throwing my hand back violently. I crashed hard onto the floor, the back of my head slamming against the sharp edge of the coffee table. A dizzying pain exploded in my skull. “You would resort to such disgusting, cheap tricks just to get your way?” Julian looked down at me, his gaze filled with utter revulsion, as if looking at a piece of trash. “Olivia said you were rotten to the core, and I didn’t believe her.” “Now I see. Growing up in the slums only taught you how to steal and cheat!” My second brother, Ethan, pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and let out a scoff. He was the youngest chief of surgery in the city’s top hospital. Yet, as he looked at my suffocating, purple face, he showed absolutely no medical compassion. There was only mockery in his eyes. “Alright, cut the act.” “Clinically speaking, severe peanut allergies can trigger shock, but your face is clearly purple because you’re holding your breath.” “To get attention, you’re actually faking an allergic reaction? How pathetic.” I looked at Ethan in absolute despair. I wasn’t faking. My windpipe was almost completely swollen shut. Every attempt to breathe felt like swallowing razor blades. I shook my head frantically, tears streaming down my face. “Save… save me…” I crawled toward Ethan, trying to grasp the tip of his leather shoe. My third brother, Jax, stepped forward and brutally kicked my hand away. He was a professional race car driver, known for his explosive, violent temper. “Get your filthy hands off Ethan!” Jax snarled, his face twisted in disgust. “Since you have dirty hands and love to cheat, you need to be taught a lesson.” Without warning, he lifted his heavy combat boot and stomped directly onto my right hand. Crack. The sickening sound of bones snapping echoed clearly in the quiet living room. “Ahhh—!” I opened my mouth to scream, but my swollen throat could only produce a pathetic, airless hiss. The pain of crushed fingers shot straight to my heart. My entire body convulsed, cold sweat instantly soaking through my thin shirt. “Can’t even take a little pain? And you call yourself a Sterling?” Jax ground his boot down harder, laughing coldly. Then, he turned to the coffee table, picked up the box containing my EpiPen, and tossed it into the trash can. To make sure I had no hope left, he grabbed a cup of hot black coffee from the table and poured it directly into the trash, soaking the medicine. My last hope of survival was completely destroyed by my own brothers. Olivia shrank back into our mother, Eleanor’s, arms, covering her mouth in mock terror. “Jax, stop. Tori looked like she was really hurting…” “Oh, Olivia. You are far too sweet and naive.” Eleanor patted Olivia’s back comfortingly. When she looked at me, her eyes turned ice-cold. “Today is your and Olivia’s birthday. You just had to ruin it and cause a scene, didn’t you? You always want to make everyone miserable.” “Arthur, lock her in the basement freezer. Let her cool her head and think about what she did!” Arthur nodded coldly. “An ungrateful brat needs to learn her lesson. Lock her up for the night. Let’s see if she dares to play tricks again.” Laughing and chatting, they escorted Olivia toward the dining room. There was a six-tier designer cake waiting for her, surrounded by a mountain of luxury gifts. Meanwhile, I was dragged away like a dead dog by the family bodyguards. And thrown into the dark, sub-zero basement freezer.

The heavy metal door slammed shut with a resounding thud, cutting off all light and sound from the outside world. The temperature inside was negative ten degrees. The biting, freezing air instantly pierced through my thin clothes, making me shiver violently. But the cold wasn’t the real killer. It was the lack of oxygen. My allergic reaction was reaching its final, fatal stage. My vision went completely pitch-black. My brain spun from the lack of oxygen. I curled up on the freezing floor, gasping like a fish out of water, my mouth wide open, unable to pull in a single breath. Why? I asked myself a thousand times in the dark. I was their biological daughter. I was the one who had been kidnapped and suffered for eighteen years in poverty. Why did they give all their love to an adopted impostor? Was it because I didn’t know how to act cute? Was it because I lacked Olivia’s elegant, high-society manners? For two years in this house, I had lived worse than a dog. Whenever Olivia casually said she “liked my bedroom,” I was kicked out and sent to the drafty attic. Whenever Olivia claimed my poor grades “embarrassed the family,” I was forced to drop out of college and do chores around the house. Even this cursed card-drawing game was suggested by Olivia “by accident.” And every time, she drew the Ace of Hearts. I used to think I just had bad luck. I thought I didn’t deserve happiness. But tonight, as death gripped my throat, the truth finally flashed through my fading mind. There was no such thing as luck. How could anyone draw the Ace of Hearts perfectly, every single day, for two straight years from a full deck? It was a setup. A blatant, slow-motion murder disguised as a game. My consciousness was slipping. My heartbeat grew faint, and my limbs lost all sensation. Just when I thought I was going to die in this cold, dark tomb, a warm, kindly face flashed in my mind. My grandfather, James Vance. “Chloe, if those Sterlings ever make you unhappy, come to New York. My home will always be your shield.” James Vance was the head of the Vance Group, one of the most powerful conglomerates in New York. Two years ago, when I was found, James had tried to take me in. But Arthur, obsessed with his public image, refused to let me go. Back then, I naively believed my biological parents would eventually love me. I was wrong. Dead wrong. I couldn’t die here. I refused to die in this filthy, dark corner! I hadn’t exposed Olivia’s lies yet. I hadn’t made these blind monsters pay for what they did to me! A sudden, fierce will to live erupted from the depths of my soul. I bit my tongue hard. The sharp pain brought a brief moment of clarity. Groping around in the dark with my unbroken left hand, I grabbed a heavy, frozen leg of ham from the shelf. Using every ounce of strength left in my body, I smashed it against the small glass ventilation window in the corner.

Bang! Bang! Shatter! The sound of breaking glass sliced through the dark. Fresh, freezing night air rushed into the room through the broken window. I dragged myself over and pressed my face against the jagged frame, inhaling greedy, desperate gulps of air. The cold air stung my swollen lungs like needles, but I could breathe. I was alive. Using my elbows, I squeezed my bruised body through the small window frame and crawled out. Outside was the dark backyard of the estate. The night was silent, save for the wind rustling the leaves. Dragging my broken right hand, I limped out of the Sterling estate. The night wind was freezing, but the fire of hatred in my chest burned hot. I didn’t go to the hospital. I knew that the moment I checked into a local clinic, the Sterlings would find me. They would drag me back and find slower, crueler ways to torture me. I had to run. I had to escape this hell completely. Ignoring the agonizing pain in my hand and my weakened body, I walked all the way to the city’s grand suspension bridge. The water below was deep, dark, and wild. I took off my worn-out canvas sneakers and placed them neatly by the guardrail. Then, I tore a piece of fabric from my shirt and pressed it hard against the open wound of my broken hand. The dark red blood dripped onto the concrete, staining the floor and the metal railing. Finally, I snagged the bloody piece of cloth on the wire mesh of the barrier. Without looking back, I walked away into the dark. From this day on, Victoria Sterling was dead. She died on the cold night of her twentieth birthday. I walked to a public payphone on a deserted street corner and dialed a number I had memorized but never dared to call. “Hello? Who is this?” James Vance’s voice came through the receiver—old, but commanding and powerful. Hearing his voice, my mask of strength crumbled, and tears flooded my eyes. “Grandpa James…” “It’s me… Tori…” “Save me…” The line went silent for a second, followed by a sharp, furious gasp from James. “Tori?! Where are you?! Don’t be scared, sweetheart. I’m sending my men right now!” Thirty minutes later, three black Mercedes-Maybachs pulled silently into the dim alleyway where I was hiding. A dozen suited bodyguards immediately surrounded me. When the head butler saw me covered in blood, pale and shivering, his eyes turned red with anger. “Miss Victoria, look what they did to you…” “Mr. Vance is waiting at our private medical facility. Let’s get you home.” Sitting in the spacious, heated leather seat of the car, I watched the city lights fade away. A cold, dark smile crept onto my lips. The Sterlings. Olivia. Everything you owe me, I will collect. With interest.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443272”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Ethan had a custom-built car. It was heavily modified with a highly complex dashboard, completely different from a regular car. I had no idea how to drive it. He treated this car like his ultimate treasure. In our six years together, he was willing to give me anything—except this car. He wouldn’t even let me touch it. I wasn’t even supposed to stare at it for too long. Once, unable to resist my curiosity, I secretly took the car keys. That was the first time he ever raised his voice at me. Afterward, he spent hours alone in the garage. That night, he didn’t hold me to sleep, which was completely unlike him. Today, he called me to pick him up from a bar. He was slurring his words, completely wasted, yet he kept muttering under his breath, “Don’t touch my car…” I rushed to the bar and helped him out. He was too drunk to even stand straight. Helpless, I had to order a private driver through a designated-driver app. Before long, a woman ran up to us, panting. “Hi, did you request a private driver?” I nodded. She slid into the driver’s seat. Familiarly, she started Ethan’s custom car without a moment of hesitation. “You seem very familiar with this car,” I remarked. “Yeah,” she replied, nodding. “My ex-husband had the exact same one.” I remained silent. Ethan, who had been fast asleep with his head on my shoulder, suddenly opened his eyes.

In the rearview mirror, Ethan was staring at her. My heart sank. “Really?” “What a coincidence.” Ethan’s breathing turned heavy. After a moment, he closed his eyes again. He silently shifted his head off my shoulder and rested it against the car seat. It was dead silent for the rest of the ride. But I knew he wasn’t asleep. Taking advantage of the dim light as we drove through a tunnel, he glanced at the woman twice. His gaze was complicated and unreadable. “Were you married?” I suddenly asked. I was asking the woman, but Ethan spoke up first. “No.” “They didn’t make it to the altar,” Ethan said, his voice cold. “She ran away.” “In the end, she didn’t get the life she wanted anyway.” “I bet she regrets it now. Too bad for her, I’m engaged.” These words didn’t sound like they were meant for me. The next second, the car suddenly lost control. It spun twice and slammed hard into a streetlamp. My head whipped forward and crashed against the front seat. A sharp pain flared up, and my vision went blurry. “Ethan… it hurts…” No response. When I finally regained some consciousness, I heard Ethan shouting at the woman outside the car. “How can you still be so reckless?!” She was terrified, sobbing uncontrollably. “The car… I’ll pay you back…” “Can you even afford it?!” Ethan roared. The woman flinched. “We… we built this car together… I bought the parts. I know exactly how to rebuild it…” “Chloe!” Ethan cut her off, his voice cracking. “Would it kill you to just show me some weakness for once?!” “You deserve to end up like this!” Through the cracked window, I watched Ethan. He was holding Chloe’s shoulders, frantically checking her for injuries. In an instant, I felt cold from head to toe. I tried to speak, but my throat felt blocked by something heavy. I couldn’t swallow, and I couldn’t breathe. The rest of the ride home was a blur of numbness. The car jolted over bumps. I forced myself to sit up straight, flinching away when Ethan tried to put his arm around me. Finally, we reached the garage. The smart camera scanned Chloe’s face as she stepped out, and the garage door unlocked automatically. “Welcome home, Master,” a mechanical female voice chirped. Chloe froze. I froze, too. My mind went completely blank. I turned to look at Ethan, but he quickly avoided my eyes. Chloe pulled up her PayPal QR code. I took a deep breath, trying my best to maintain my dignity. Beep. Her Snapchat profile popped up as a linked contact. It was the exact same account Ethan always stared at in a daze. It was the account he didn’t have added, yet had forced his assistant to memorize, searching for her on hiring apps. “Ethan, did you invest in this designated-driver app?” I asked. Ethan blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Just a small investment for fun. Why?” I ignored him, sent the payment, and walked straight upstairs. Over the years, he had invested in so many platforms. Trendy apps, startups, all kinds of industries. But there was one constant. They all had an employee. Named Chloe Bennet. “Valerie, can you make me a cup of almond milk?” Seeing that I was ignoring him, Ethan shamelessly followed me. “You didn’t have dinner because you came to pick me up, right? How about I make you some pasta?” For a few seconds, I stayed silent. The words hovered on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them down. I wanted to say, Let’s call off the engagement. Let’s act as if these six years never happened. Let’s pretend my feelings were just wasted. But when I thought of the hard times we had shared, of the everyday life we built together, I felt like suffocating. I could only hide in the kitchen under the excuse of making almond milk. The pot of water began to steam. My eyes grew wet and blurry. Ethan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his long legs, casually playing with our engagement ring in his hand. “Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?” he asked. Next month was supposed to be our wedding. “Ethan, I don’t want to marry you anymore.” The kitchen fell dead silent. The smile faded from his face. He raised an eyebrow, looking at me as if he hadn’t understood. I repeated myself. “We are not getting married.” “The engagement is off.”

Ethan didn’t say anything to that. That night, I slept on the very edge of the bed, my back turned to him. Suddenly, a large hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me tightly into his chest. His grip was suffocating. “Stop being mad. Just go to sleep.” I stared blankly at the photo on the nightstand. It was taken during our poorest year. Ethan had borrowed an old camera just to take it. The gear was outdated, the background was a dingy, cheap room, but the cubic zirconia ring on my ring finger sparkled brightly. It was the record of his first proposal to me. Memories and photos had been yellowed by time. The cheap ring band had scratched through countless memories, but he didn’t seem to care anymore. He used to be the quickest to notice my mood changes. Now, he couldn’t even tell if I was genuinely heartbroken or just throwing a tantrum. “Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice was barely a whisper. “Why didn’t you just confess that the person you stalk every day is the ex you almost married?” “What am I to you, Ethan?” Ethan’s breathing hitched. He grabbed his phone and tossed it into my lap. “It’s been over between her and me for a long time. There is no way we are getting back together.” “If you don’t believe me, check it yourself. There’s no need to keep clinging to this.” I took a deep breath. My nose stung, and I barely forced back the tears. “Never mind.” Ethan sat up. When he was drunk, he talked too much. He became stubborn and unfiltered. “I don’t get it. What is there to cry about?” “Did I deprive you of money? Or love? Valerie, I swear on my life, I have never wronged you. You’re just overthinking things.” He paused, his alcohol-scented breath brushing against my face. “Can’t we both just take a step back?” “I really don’t have the time to constantly guess what’s on your mind. Just be good, okay?” I pulled the blanket over my head and closed my eyes. “Stop talking.” He paused for a second. Then he started again. “Valerie, I think you—” “I said stop talking!” The bedroom fell so quiet that only the sound of our breathing remained. His, and mine. “Shut up,” I whispered through clenched teeth. “Can you not hear me? Shut your mouth.” We ended the night on a terrible note. Our cold war lasted for nearly two weeks. During that time, he sent me a few text messages, trying to throw me a bone so I would drop it. I didn’t reply. When we finally met again, it was Ethan’s birthday party. He had drunk so much that his chronic stomach ulcer flared up. His friend called me to pick him up. “Don’t touch me!” “Let go!” A crowd of people couldn’t hold Ethan down. He usually didn’t turn red when he drank, but right now, a dull flush spread from his neck to his ears. Empty liquor bottles littered the floor around his feet. He was completely, utterly wasted. “Look who’s here! Stop acting like a damn fool!” Carter said, pushing Ethan toward me. Looking at the drunk man, I frowned. A surge of annoyance rose from the bottom of my heart. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. “We’re going home.” The man who was acting wild a second ago instantly quieted down. Ethan gently squeezed my hand. “Babe, you go back first.” “I’m fine.” His stomach issue was a remnant from his early days of heavy business drinking. When it got bad, the pain would keep him in bed for days. I used to have to hold him and massage his stomach for hours just to make him feel better. “You know your own body!” I tugged at him. “Let’s go home!” He didn’t budge. “Then I’ll wait for you,” I said. “It’s late,” Ethan glanced at his watch. “Your period is coming up in a couple of days, right? Don’t stay up late. You’ll get cramps.” “Go home and take some painkillers first just in case.” “Go on. I’ll have the driver take you home.” It felt like he really didn’t want me to enter his social circle. Carter pulled me out of the VIP room. “Chloe was here earlier. He’s in a bad mood.” “Between you guys…” Before he could finish, I heard a faint crying sound. Walking down the hallway, I saw Chloe standing by the restroom. Her face was covered in tears. She instinctively turned her head away, quickly wiping her eyes. “Miss Moore,” she said, her voice muffled. “If you hadn’t interfered, Ethan wouldn’t hate me this much, would he?” Only then did I notice she was clutching a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. On it, the words 【I Owe You One Favor】 were written. “He wrote this for me himself,” Chloe smiled bitterly. “But he won’t honor it now.” “If I had made up my mind sooner back then, if I hadn’t run away right before the wedding in March, maybe things would be different.” “If you knew that I once had a child with Ethan, would you still marry him?”

The color drained from my face. My heart pounded like a heavy drum, each beat sending a jolt of pain through my nerves. “Too bad the baby didn’t survive,” Chloe whispered, tracing the paper. “He hates me. He even hates the memory of that baby. He didn’t even show up to the funeral.” She looked up at me. “Are you twenty-six this year?” I pressed my lips together. “No wonder Ethan was so desperate to marry you this year.” Chloe pulled a photo out of her bag. It was a wedding photo. On the back, there was a date. This was me at twenty-six. She shoved the photo into my hand. “Miss Moore, has anyone ever told you that you look exactly like I did when I was younger?” “Want to see?” In that split second, I felt nothing but pain. An overwhelming, suffocating pain. It took all my strength just to raise the photo. I saw the radiant woman in the picture, and on her ring finger was the exact same engagement ring I wore. Tears poured out of my eyes, splashing loudly onto the floor. I felt a string snap in my head. Without another thought, I began to tear the photo to pieces. I held it under the running tap, ripping it over and over until it became a mushy pile of white pulp. I locked myself inside a toilet stall. My engagement ring slipped down the drain with the rushing water. Outside the door, Ethan’s voice echoed. “Money! I have so much money now!” He was drunk, sounding like he was laughing and crying at the same time. “Why couldn’t I have had it sooner…” “If I had been successful back then, would things have been different? Chloe, I don’t blame you… You just made the best choice you could at the time… It’s just that it hurts. My heart hurts so much…” “We can’t go back.” “Chloe, please come to my wedding.” “…” I walked out of the stall. I saw Ethan leaning heavily on Chloe, his body almost completely draped over hers. “Ethan.” Maybe he didn’t hear me. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to look back. He simply walked away, holding onto Chloe, disappearing from my sight. A sharp, sudden cramp flared up in my lower abdomen. I looked down. Red was blooming on my white pants. At that moment, I thought, Ethan guessed right. My period really did come early. Only this time, it hurt more than ever before. Eventually, the cleaning lady found me. She was too terrified to speak clearly, stuttering into her phone as she called 911: “Blood! There’s so much blood!” The streetlights flashed outside the ambulance window. My consciousness drifted in and out. In the haze, a voice seemed to ask, Was it worth it? The two years we spent running from debt collectors, moving from place to place with no real home—was it worth it? Starving and freezing with him, working multiple part-time jobs until my health was ruined—was it worth it? Helping him find clients, getting tricked at a business dinner and almost getting assaulted—was it worth it? Pain flooded every single pore of my body. My blood was hot. My tears were hot. Even the April breeze was warm. Yet my teeth chattered, and my body shook. It felt as if I had been stripped naked and thrown into the dead of winter, my flesh turning blue, my mind going numb. “It’s so cold…” “Ethan, warm me up…” I mumbled instinctively. My mind drifted back to that cold winter night when we huddled together in a drafty, tiny rented room, shivering. Ethan would always pull my freezing feet and press them against his warm stomach. “Sss—it’s freezing! Stop moving.” “Keep squirming and see if I don’t throw you out into the snow!” I would just laugh, spoiled by his affection, and slide my cold hands down the back of his neck. “I want to freeze you!” “Ethan, you have to keep me warm for the rest of my life!” “Of course I will,” he had grumbled, making a face. But where was he now? I believed him for six years. Ethan, you liar.

“You need to keep your emotions in check. Many early-stage pregnancies are lost due to severe emotional stress,” the doctor advised. “We’ve stabilized things for now. Stay in the hospital for two days for observation. If everything is fine, you can be discharged.” I stared blankly at the ceiling. I remembered a long time ago, a doctor told me I would probably never get pregnant. My body was too broken. My menstrual cramps were so severe they could cause me to faint. All of it was from staying up late and drinking heavily with clients back in the day to help Ethan’s business. After that, Ethan never took me near baby stores again, and he never brought up the topic of children. We both thought we would never have one. Yet, it chose to appear at a time like this. “Do we need to notify your family?” the doctor asked. I gently shook my head. Beside me, my phone buzzed constantly. It was Ethan calling. Annoyed, I turned it off completely. I spent the next two days in peaceful, quiet solitude. When it was time to sign the discharge papers, I finally turned my phone back on. A flood of messages and missed calls popped up. Where are you? Call me back. Or at least text me. The restaurant staff said you were taken to the hospital? Is it serious? Which hospital are you in? I’ll come see you as soon as I get back from my business trip. With his current position in the company, he didn’t need to go on business trips anymore. I casually checked his IP address on social media. He was in Boston. And Chloe’s Twitter account had just posted a new update. 【First time driving interstate. 30 hours round trip to Boston. So nervous.】 I guess he just couldn’t let her go, so he secretly followed her. “No need,” I replied to his text. “I’m going back to pack my things. I’ll be moving out soon.” The next morning, I loaded my suitcases into the trunk and sat in the Porsche Ethan had gifted me. He bought it for me when his first major project got funded. I had treasured it so much that I barely drove it over the years. I never expected that starting it up again would be for the purpose of leaving him. Vroom— The movement pulled at my lower abdomen, and I instinctively let go of the gas pedal. I decided to hire a private driver. To my surprise, ten minutes later, it was Chloe who opened the driver’s door. “Please fasten your seatbelt.” My first instinct was to cancel the ride. But it was early morning, and getting another driver would take too long. I simply turned my head away, closed my eyes, and rested against the seat, pretending to sleep. “Don’t want to live the life of a rich wife anymore?” Chloe laughed. “How ungrateful. If you were in my shoes, driving long distances without sleep and having to take another job right after, do you think you could survive?” She talked to herself the entire way. I didn’t utter a single word. “Ethan bought me a villa, and he gave me a black card. He said he wanted to make sure I’d be taken care of for the rest of my life…” The car speed slowly began to drop. “But he told me to never contact him again.” “Why? I lost my baby, I lost my home, and now I don’t even have a single shred of hope left…” I turned to look at her, but before I could react, the car suddenly accelerated and crashed straight into the guardrail. BANG— I don’t know how much time passed. I opened my eyes in a daze, seeing the gray sky and Ethan’s panicked face hovering over me. The Porsche was sturdier than Chloe had anticipated. “She grabbed the steering wheel, and the car hit the guardrail,” Chloe sobbed, sitting on the ground. “I was so scared, Ethan… I almost died…” I wanted to laugh. Her acting was so terrible, her excuse so ridiculous. If this were a novel, readers would scream at how cliché it was. But Ethan believed her. He couldn’t bear to see Chloe cry. A single tear from her was enough to make him lose his mind. It made him completely ignore my condition just to shake my arm, accusing and pointing fingers at me. “I already agreed to send her away! Valerie, how can you be so vicious? Do you really have to drive her to suicide?” “Are you insane?!” I remained silent for a long time. Then, I looked up, smiled, and swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my throat. “Yeah.” “I left my hometown to follow you, endured endless hardships, believed you over and over, and wasted six years of my youth on you.” “If I weren’t insane, how could I have done all those things?” I didn’t want anything anymore. Just let me leave. Give me my freedom.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443271”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

We had been married for five years, and my husband, Carter, had never once forgotten any of my preferences or allergies. Everyone envied me. They said I had hit the jackpot with him. Until I found a hidden, passcode-protected file on his laptop. It was titled: [Her Instruction Manual]. I clicked it open. There were 256 entries in total. “Entry No. 3: On the first day of her period, her lower back aches. Put a heating pad on her bedside table and leave some Advil. Don’t ask if she’s in pain—just do it.” “Entry No. 47: When you get into an argument, don’t try to reason with her right away. Wait exactly 20 minutes, then text her a cute cat meme. She’ll use that as an excuse to break the silence.” “Entry No. 189: Never buy her designer bags for her birthday. Write her a handwritten letter instead. She’s a sucker for that sentimental stuff.” Every single bullet point was terrifyingly accurate. I scrolled all the way back to the very first page. Created: Seven years ago. We hadn’t even met yet back then. With trembling fingers, I clicked on the file properties to see the author’s name. Author: [Maya Song]. His ex-wife. Just as I shut the laptop, Carter walked into the bedroom, carrying a mug of hot tea and a freshly microwaved heating pad. “It’s the first day of your cycle, right? You look a bit pale.” His smile was incredibly gentle, warm, and attentive. But looking at his face, for the very first time, I felt like a machine operating strictly according to a piece of software. “No. 47 says exactly how to handle me when we fight.” I looked at him, my voice barely a whisper. “But does any entry in there tell you what to do when I find out about this list?”

The hand holding the mug didn’t even shake. That was the most sickening part of his reaction. Carter calmly set the mug and the heating pad on the nightstand. His movements were identical to those on the first day of my period for the past five years—placed gently, with the mug handle facing to the right, making it easy for me to grab with my right hand. “Which entry?” he asked quietly. I turned my phone screen toward him. The screen was stuck on that very page: 256 entries. Author: [Maya Song]. He stared at it for three seconds. “That’s something from a very long time ago.” “Seven years ago,” I said. “We’ve only known each other for six.” “I know the timeline.” He sat on the edge of the bed, keeping an arm’s length of distance between us. “Maya… she was very observant. She used to write down random notes. When we got divorced, she wiped her shared notes, but I forgot to delete this specific folder from my local drive.” He had used it for five years, yet claimed he “forgot to delete it.” What a pathetic excuse. “So, for the past five years, you’ve been living with me by following a cheat sheet she wrote?” “It’s not a cheat sheet.” He frowned slightly. “I observe what you like on my own, too.” “No. 189,” I challenged. He didn’t reply. “On my birthday last year, you wrote me a handwritten letter,” I said, my voice cracking. “I cried for half an hour because of how touched I was.” “I wrote that letter myself.” “But the “idea” to write it wasn’t yours.” I pushed the mug two inches away from me. He stared at those two inches of distance. His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t say a word. Suddenly, I wanted to know what the very last entry was. I scrolled down to the bottom. “Entry No. 256: If she stays silent for more than five minutes, do not press her. Give her space. But afterward, you must initiate the apology, even if you feel you did nothing wrong.” Looking at those words, I silently started a timer in my head. One minute. Three minutes. Carter didn’t leave, nor did he speak. Right at the four-minute mark, he stood up. “You should get some rest. I’ll be in the study.” “Entry No. 256, right?” I called out to his retreating back. He stopped at the doorway, his back to me, his shoulders tensed in a rigid, straight line. “Vivian.” He rarely called me by my full name. “What do you want me to say?” I didn’t know. But I knew I didn’t want to hear another pre-programmed response pulled straight out of someone else’s manual. He walked out. He left the study door open. I unlocked my phone, took screenshots of the entire document, and emailed them to myself. Then I opened my contacts list and scrolled to the “Emergency Contact” section. Carter’s name was still at the very top. My thumb hovered over it for three seconds. I didn’t change it. But when I closed the app, I opened Safari instead and typed in a search: [How to file for an uncontested divorce.]

The next morning, he got up at 6:30 AM. I knew because I had barely slept all night. Faint sounds drifted from the kitchen—the sizzle of butter in a pan, the low hum of the espresso machine. At exactly 7:00 AM, he knocked on the bedroom door. “Breakfast is ready.” I sat down at the dining table, and he slid a plate in front of me. A sunny-side-up egg. The yolk was perfectly runny, the edges crispy and golden. “Entry No. 11: She only eats sunny-side-up eggs with runny yolks. Never serve them hard-boiled or over-easy; she hates dry yolks.” I poked the yolk with my fork, watching the golden liquid run across the white. “I have to head into the office today,” he said, holding his coffee mug as he sat across from me. “I might be home late tonight.” “Okay.” “There’s beef stew in the fridge. You just need to microwave it for lunch.” “Sounds good.” As he walked to the entryway to put on his shoes, I spoke up. “Carter.” He turned around. “Yeah?” “Where is Maya now?” His movement paused for a fraction of a second as he tied his shoelaces. “I don’t know. We haven’t spoken since the divorce.” I nodded and didn’t press further. Once he left, I went into the study and opened his desktop computer. I knew the passcode; it was our wedding anniversary. I searched “Maya Song” in his file manager. No results. Then I searched just “Maya.” A folder popped up. It was titled: [Old Archives – Sorted]. I opened it. It wasn’t documents inside. It was screenshots of text messages. The dates ranged from eight years ago to six years ago. It was his chat history with Maya. I scrolled through a dozen images and stopped at one. In that screenshot, Maya had sent a message: [If you meet someone else in the future, when you do something nice for her, don’t constantly ask yourself why. Just trust your gut. If you have to look up a guide to remember what she likes, it means you don’t actually care about her enough.] The next message was Carter’s reply: [I used a guide for you, too.] Maya replied: [And that’s exactly why we got divorced.] I stared at those words for a long time. So, I wasn’t the first one. Before closing the folder, I noticed a calendar reminder flashing in the bottom right corner of the screen. I clicked on it. “October 17th: Vivian’s birthday. Is the letter ready?” Today was October 5th. He was already preparing for it. For lunch, I didn’t heat up the beef stew. I went out and grabbed pasta at a diner down the street. At 3:00 PM, I booked a consultation with a family law firm. “What legal services do you require?” the receptionist asked. “Divorce.” “Understood. Could you give us a brief overview of your situation?” I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What was I supposed to say? “My husband treats me beautifully—so beautifully that he acts like a computer running code written by his ex-wife?” “I just want to know… if one party files for divorce and the other party refuses to sign, what is the legal process?” After hanging up, my phone screen lit up with a text from Carter. [Did you heat up the stew? It’s chilly today, make sure to wear a jacket if you go out.] I stared at the message. Without those 256 entries, I would have found this sweet and caring. But now, I just wondered: “Which entry number is this?”

He returned at 8:00 PM. He was holding a bag from the bakery down the street—the one I frequented. “I was passing by and grabbed this,” he said, placing the bag on the table. “Hazelnut mousse cake. You said you wanted it last week.” “Entry No. 82: She always talks about dieting, but when she’s stressed, she craves sweets. Don’t tell her to restrain herself. Just buy it for her.” I didn’t touch the bag. He changed into his loungewear and came back out. Seeing the cake still sitting untouched on the table, he didn’t say anything. He sat on the opposite end of the sofa and turned on the TV. Two throw pillows sat between us, marking the distance. In the past, I would have naturally curled up next to him, resting my feet on his lap. Today, those two pillows felt like a concrete wall. “Carter.” “Yeah?” “Do you think you actually know me?” He set the remote down and turned to face me. “What do you mean by that?” “Literally. Aside from that folder on your computer, do you actually know me?” He was silent for a few seconds. “I think I do.” “Tell me one thing. One thing that isn’t written in that document.” He looked at me, his brow furrowing slightly. “You… you always flip your pillow over before you sleep because you like the cool side.” “Entry No. 19.” I knew it was No. 19 because I had read through every single one of them until 4:00 AM the night before. But I didn’t call him out. “You always taste the soup before you add salt when you’re cooking,” he added. “Entry No. 44.” “You hate answering phone calls in an Uber because you find it too noisy.” “Entry No. 103.” Every single one was correct. Every single one was written by Maya. I let out a soft, hollow laugh. “What else?” He seemed to sense that something was deeply wrong. His voice softened. “Vivian, I know that file makes you uncomfortable. But it was just a reference. A lot of things…” “A reference,” I repeated, cutting him off. He stopped. “The first time you wrote me a handwritten letter, you got ink on your hand and left a smudge on the corner of the paper.” “I kept that letter in my nightstand drawer.” “I thought it was proof of how adorable and clumsy you were when you tried hard for me.” His lips pressed into a tight line. “But now, I don’t know if you wrote that letter because you actually wanted to, or because you opened your notes, saw No. 189, and decided it was time to check it off your list.” “Vivian.” “Is there a difference?” he asked. “Yes,” I said. I stood up and picked up the hazelnut mousse from the table. I couldn’t stand seeing it there anymore, looking like a completed task on his daily checklist. I walked into the kitchen and put it in the fridge. As I shut the fridge door, I noticed a sticky note on the side. “10/6: Vivian’s annual physical results are ready. Remind her to pick them up.” Tomorrow. I stared at the note. Then I peeled it off, folded it twice, and tossed it into the trash can. The next morning, I went to the clinic and picked up my results myself. Everything was normal. But I didn’t tell him. At 2:00 PM, I called the law firm back. “I’d like to schedule an in-person consultation to draft the separation agreement.” While the receptionist was confirming the time, a text popped up from an unknown number. [Hi Vivian, this is Maya Song. I think we need to talk.]

We met at a quiet coffee shop. On a weekday afternoon, the place was mostly empty. Maya arrived wearing a beige trench coat, her hair tied back in a loose, effortless knot. She looked sharp, elegant, and much calmer than I had anticipated. She sat down and spoke first. “I’m sorry for texting you from an unknown number. He doesn’t know I’m here.” I nodded. She slid her phone across the table. On the screen was a text message Carter had sent her three days ago. [Maya, she found the manual. Can you please help me explain it to her?] I stared at the screen. He didn’t even try to explain it to me himself. He went to “her” for help. Maya took her phone back. “I didn’t reply to him. I came here on my own accord.” “That folder,” she said, looking straight at me. “I did write it back then.” I waited for her to continue. “When I was with Carter, I always felt like he was emotionally tone-deaf. He cared, but he had no idea how to show it. So I got into the habit of writing down my preferences for him.” “But later, I realized…” She paused, taking a sip of her coffee. “The fact that he needed a manual to remember how to love me meant he was never actually using his heart to feel me.” “So, I filed for divorce.” “But he kept the folder,” I said. “Yes.” “And then he used it on me.” She didn’t dodge my gaze. “I didn’t come here today to make excuses for him. I came to tell you something else.” “Out of those 256 entries, some of them weren’t written by me.” My fingers tightened around my coffee cup. “What do you mean?” “No. 189, the handwritten letter,” she said. “My original note was about buying books, not letters. He changed that one himself.” I froze. “No. 47 as well,” she continued. “I originally wrote that he should wait half an hour and send an apology text. Not a cat meme. He changed that.” “And No. 3. Back then, I wrote about buying heat patches for my back. Not a heating pad and pain meds.” She looked at me gently. “I only wrote about a hundred entries. Now there are 256. The extra ones are things he added later.” “They are about you.” I looked down at my coffee. The foam had dissolved, leaving behind irregular white patches. So, he hadn’t followed her script entirely. He had edited it. He changed the parameters and added new rules. But somehow, that made me feel even worse. Because it proved he was fully aware of the folder’s existence. He had opened it, compared me to it, and adjusted it. He calibrated it line by line to make it fit me perfectly. Like upgrading a piece of software. He hadn’t “forgotten to delete it.” He was actively using it. Seeing me sink into silence, Maya stood up. “I’ve said what I came to say. What you do next is entirely up to you.” She stopped at the door and looked back one last time. “He cares about you, but the way he goes about it is deeply flawed.” “A person who needs an instruction manual to love… well, the thicker the manual gets, the bigger the underlying issue is.” I didn’t reply. I sat in that coffee shop until the sun went down. At 6:30 PM, Carter called. “Are you home yet? What do you want for dinner?” I stared at the caller ID. His contact name was still saved as [Husband]. I hit decline. Then I opened my contacts and changed my emergency contact from Carter to my mom. I opened my Notes app and created a new note. Title: [My Instruction Manual]. For the first entry, I typed five words: “No one else writes this.” I saved it and closed the app. Then I opened the email my lawyer had sent me three days ago: [Draft Separation Agreement Template]. I filled out the first page. My phone buzzed again with a text from Carter. [Why did you decline? Bad reception? I’ll call you again.] I didn’t reply. I took the handwritten letter he had given me for my birthday last year and placed it inside a plain manila envelope. Using a pencil, I wrote one word on the seal: [Return]. He didn’t know yet. He probably thought I was just throwing a tantrum. He probably thought that in a couple of days, if he sent a cat meme and bought me another slice of cake, everything would go right back to the pre-programmed track of Entry No. 47. But I was no longer a character in his manual.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443270”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I’m a strict vegetarian, but my best friend, Chloe, is a hardcore carnivore. Brandon and I had been in a ten-year relationship. Just before our wedding, he said he wanted to take me out for a private celebration. It wasn’t until we arrived at the restaurant that I realized he had booked an all-meat steakhouse feast. There wasn’t a single green leaf in sight. Sitting with us in the private booth was Chloe, who had just returned from studying abroad. Brandon was standing, busy carving steaks and putting them on her plate, while she devoured them with pure satisfaction. “I’ve missed this so much since I left the country,” she said, her mouth full. Looking at the man who was supposed to be my fiancé, fussing over Chloe and piling her plate with meat, I raised my fork. I had no idea where to even start. Halfway through the dinner, Brandon finally remembered that I couldn’t eat meat. With a casual flick of his wrist, he pushed a small plate of greasy, cold onion rings—a complimentary side dish the waiter had just brought out—in front of me. His voice was completely flat, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “Chloe just got back. Don’t ruin her mood.” “Just make do with this tonight. Next time, I’ll take you to a fully vegan place.” Chloe wiped the corner of her mouth and chimed in. “I honestly don’t get what’s so great about eating grass anyway. Brandon is the only one who has the patience to put up with your pickiness.” Looking at the table, there wasn’t a single dish ordered for me. So, this was what he called “putting up with me.” The two people in front of me were sharing food from the same plates, laughing and whispering with an intimacy that left no room for anyone else. I was completely, invisibly shut out. During that entire dinner, I stared at those cold, greasy onion rings. They sat under the dim restaurant lights, glistening with a nauseating sheen. Compared to the expensive steaks on the table, they looked cheap and pathetic. Maybe to them, I was just like this complimentary side dish—something cheap, tasteless, and easily discarded. I slowly put my fork down. Suddenly, everything became clear. People with different tastes can never truly share a table.

When Chloe went to the restroom, the heavy wooden door shut. The very next second, Brandon’s words rained down on me, heavy with anger and blame. His face was a mask of frustration, and he made no effort to hide his irritation. “Who are you throwing a tantrum for? It’s just a dinner! Is it really that hard for you to just sit here and be nice?” “Chloe flew thousands of miles back just for our wedding. She’s finally home, and she just wanted some good comfort food.” “You and I eat together every single day. Haven’t you had enough of me? Do you really have to ruin this one meal for her?” A sharp, stabbing pain twisted in my stomach. I had been running around all day finalizing our wedding venue, and I hadn’t even had a sip of water. My stomach was burning. “Then what am I supposed to eat?” I couldn’t stop the lump from rising in my throat. “I’ve been working on our wedding details all day too. I haven’t eaten a single bite.” “Even if you wanted to treat her to her favorite steak, couldn’t you have ordered just one vegetarian dish for me?” “In your eyes, do I only deserve the leftovers and free sides?” My words hit a nerve, and his face flushed with embarrassment. Just then, Chloe returned. Brandon and I were locked in a tense standoff, the air in the booth thick with hostility. She quickly stepped in to play peacemaker. “Hey, it’s just a dish.” “Let’s just order something else.” Right on cue, the waiter opened the door and brought in a plate of pasta. Chloe saw it and laughed, trying to break the tension. “Brandon, do you remember our junior year of high school?” “You said you were saving up for something, but you wouldn’t tell me what. You even asked your mom to advance your allowance for the next six months. For that half-year, you didn’t even have enough money for lunch. I had to feed you out of my own allowance. Back then, we used to share a single bowl of cheap pasta every single day.” Brandon’s expression instantly softened as the memory washed over him. “Yeah, I was so broke I only ate once a day. I almost starved. Thank god for your late-night pasta.” “Looking back, it’s hilarious. But seriously, what were you saving up for back then anyway?” Brandon thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t remember. Probably some sneakers or something. It’s not important now.” Chloe waved over the waiter. “Let’s not talk about the past. Can we get a plain vegetarian pasta for Evelyn?” The waiter pointed to the clock on the wall. “I’m so sorry, miss. Our kitchen is closed, and we’re shutting down for the night.” “No need,” Brandon spoke up, making the decision for me. “She’s not that hungry anyway. No need to add anything.” I didn’t care about what he was saying. I just sat there, frozen, my mind stuck on the timeline Chloe had just mentioned. I remembered now. During our junior year of high school, my family refused to pay for me to attend the National Merit Summer Camp. I was the top student in our entire grade. Even our counselor said it was a tragedy for me to miss it. Brandon found out. Two weeks later, he secretly paid my tuition. I had no idea where he got that much money. By the time I found out, I was already sitting on the bus heading to the camp. But I never knew… I never knew that Chloe’s money was mixed in with it. Back then, he had lost so much weight. Yet, he was always stressing about making sure I ate enough, acting like it was an emergency if I lost even half a pound. It turned out that the moments that had defined my life, the memories of Brandon’s love that I cherished the most… All had the shadow of another woman over them. Brandon was now gently guiding a slightly tipsy Chloe out of the restaurant, his hand carefully supporting her back. When Chloe’s foot slipped and she fell into his chest, he caught her. A soft, tender smile spread across his face, his eyes filled with gentle affection. I hadn’t seen that look on him in a very long time. He had loved me once, fiercely and sincerely. The only problem was, I was the only one who still remembered it. To Brandon, it was ancient history.

After dinner, I clutched my aching stomach, walking far behind the two of them as they stumbled along, leaning on each other. Chloe was swaying, unable to walk straight, her body practically draped over Brandon. The alcohol had flushed her cheeks, making her already striking features look even more vibrant and alluring. She stopped in front of the Uber, blinking playfully. “Brandon, thank you so much for tonight,” she said. Then she glanced back at me and added, “Oh, and thank you too, Evelyn.” I said nothing. Brandon held Chloe steady, bending down to carefully check the driver’s details and whispering to him to drive safely. The driver chuckled and teased, “Man, you really look out for your girlfriend.” Brandon froze. He instinctively glanced back at me, while Chloe’s eyes darted to me for a split second. The silence was deafening. But tellingly, neither of them made any move to correct him. It was as if they shared a silent, mutual agreement to let the lie stand. I lowered my head, staring at the faint bruise on the back of my hand from an IV drip I had a few days ago. The physical wound had healed, but a much sharper, deeper pain was boring into my chest. Only after Chloe’s taillights disappeared around the corner did Brandon finally remember my existence. He tossed the car keys to his assistant, Mark, his tone returning to its usual cold, indifferent pitch. “I have to go back to the office for some paperwork. Mark will drop you at the subway station, and you can take the train home.” The private, pre-arranged ride went to Chloe. But I, his actual fiancée, only got a ride to the nearest subway entrance. I suddenly wanted to laugh, but my lips wouldn’t move. I shook my head and held up my phone. “No need. I already ordered an Uber.” I hadn’t said anything aggressive, yet Brandon stared at me for a long time. His eyes were dark and heavy. “Evelyn, what are you throwing a fit about now?” I used to be terrified of that look. In the past, I would have immediately softened, apologized, and begged for peace. Now, my lips twitched, but I felt absolutely zero desire to speak to him. I wanted to ask him: Why did it have to be an all-meat steakhouse? Why did he pick up Chloe first and completely ignore me? Why didn’t he correct the driver about who his real girlfriend was? But now, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Before I could even speak, he seemed to read my mind. He frowned, a look of deep exhaustion washing over his face. His voice carried the impatient irritation of a man forced to explain himself. “She’s a girl, and it’s late. It’s not safe for her to go home alone. Letting the driver think I’m her boyfriend isn’t a big deal.” “Chloe is your friend too. Why do you have to be so petty over every little thing?” “Evelyn, stop being so immature.” He finished his speech and stood there, waiting for my usual surrender. I stared at him, my eyes wide and dry. I wanted to scream, to fight back, but I didn’t even know where to start. After a long silence, I heard myself speak. My voice was incredibly quiet. “I’m fine. An Uber is just easier. I’ve had a long day, and I just want to go home and sleep.” Looking at my pale face, he seemed to finally remember that I was his fiancée. He took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly. He reached out to grab my wrist. “Fine. I’ll have Mark take you all the way home.” “No,” I said, stepping back to avoid his touch. “My ride is here.” His hand remained frozen in mid-air. A look I didn’t care to decipher flashed in his eyes, but his voice remained stubborn. “Suit yourself.” I had already turned my back on him and climbed into the Uber. My phone buzzed. It was a confirmation notification for a reservation at a vegan restaurant I had booked weeks ago. But there was not a single text from Brandon. To him, letting Mark drive me home was already his way of bowing his head. I swiped left and deleted the notification. Rain started to patter against the car window, blurring the streetlights. People drift apart just like that. An umbrella offered after the storm is over… is an umbrella I no longer want.

The moment I got home, I opened my food delivery app. I typed in “vegan” and watched a colorful array of options pop up. I ordered everything I wanted. Only then did I allow myself to sink into the couch. There were so many options out there, and I could easily provide them for myself. I didn’t need to force myself to sit at a fancy table just to maintain appearances, starving while staring at a plate of pathetic side dishes. I finished every single bite of my food. The moment the warm water hit my stomach, I finally felt like I was alive again. Suddenly, the sound of the front door unlocking cut through the quiet. The door swung open, and a wave of barely suppressed rage walked in. “Evelyn! Why the hell aren’t you answering your phone?” It was Brandon. I unlocked my phone and scrolled down. There were dozens of texts, all demanding to know where I was. I answered instinctively. “I was eating. I didn’t see them.” Then, a soft, soothing female voice came from behind him. “Brandon, don’t be mad. Evelyn probably just didn’t hear it.” Chloe was here too. I looked down and saw she was wearing my slippers. They were the exact same style as Brandon’s, just a different color. Brandon noticed where I was looking. Without a single word of apology, his expression remained entirely defensive. “Chloe’s apartment had a power outage, and she can’t stay there. She’s staying with us tonight.” The night before our wedding, my fiancé brought another woman into the home I had spent months decorating. I frowned, my voice dropping cold. “Are there no hotels in this city?” Seeing my expression, Chloe flinched. She shrank back behind Brandon, her fingers clutching the hem of his jacket. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Brandon, Evelyn… I can just go to a hotel. Please don’t fight because of me.” Brandon’s frown deepened. He took Chloe’s hand and stepped forward, putting himself between us in a protective stance. “No. I brought you here, and you’re staying here.” His body instinctively shielded her as he glared down at me. “She’s a girl, and we are her only two friends in this city. You want her to stay in some random hotel alone?” “I thought you said Chloe was your best friend.” I didn’t look at him. My eyes were fixed on Chloe, who was hiding behind his back. Chloe had been my only friend. Memories of our past rushed back like a tidal wave. When I was being bullied in middle school, she was the one who stood in front of me, grabbing my hand and dragging me out of that dark alley. She had been shaking with fear herself, but she still hugged me and said, “I’ll always stand by you, Evelyn.” Because I had once survived a terrifying flight with severe turbulence, I developed a crippling phobia of flying. When my sales performance at work plummeted and I was about to get fired, she was the one who used her connections to help me land international clients. She volunteered to do all the traveling for me. For six months, she flew back and forth overseas while I managed things from the office. This time, to make it back for my wedding, she had worked double-time, pushing herself to the limit. She even had to use an oxygen mask on the flight back due to sheer exhaustion. When I first met her, she was Brandon’s childhood friend. But looking back… I had known her just as long as he had. In my heart, she was even more important than Brandon. The memories faded, and my gaze locked onto Chloe. But somewhere along the way, I had been relegated to a mere background character, a disposable piece of their lives. She stood side-by-side with Brandon, and the line between us was drawn crystal clear. The girl who had promised to always stand by me was gone. I pressed my lips together and remained silent. Seeing my silence, Brandon’s frustration flared into pure anger. His eyes fell on the empty food containers on the coffee table. His lips tightened into a hard line, and his brow furrowed. “This trash again. You’re always eating this garbage. Can’t you eat like a normal human being for once?” “Evelyn, you’re twenty-four, not fourteen.” “It’s not like we can’t afford real food. Do you really have to eat this rabbit food just to make yourself feel special?” “For years, I’ve had to watch you eat these disgusting, weird-looking vegetables. It honestly makes me sick.” His voice was like ice, every word a sharp blade aimed directly at me. “Brandon! What is wrong with you?” Chloe pulled at his sleeve from behind, and Brandon seemed to realize what he had just said. His lips parted, but no words came out. I stood there, completely numb, staring at the man in front of me as if he were a total stranger.

I wasn’t born a vegetarian. When I was fourteen, my stepmother moved in with her son. He was a chubby, spoiled kid who loved meat. From the moment they crossed the threshold, I lost my right to eat meat. One night, I reached for a pork chop on the table. My stepmother slapped my hand away and forced me into the basement. There, she made me eat a giant bowl of raw, rancid pork fat mixed with grease. I threw up until my stomach was empty, but she kept forcing it down my throat. Since then, the smell of grease and meat was forever linked to the damp mold of that basement, to screaming, humiliation, and terror. When I eventually passed out from malnutrition on the school track, it was Brandon who carried me to the nurse’s office. The school nurse lectured me about extreme dieting, telling me I needed a balanced diet. She thought I was starving myself to be skinny. I lay on the cot, too weak to explain. Brandon’s eyes were bright, but his words were sharp. He corrected the nurse with fierce conviction. “Ma’am, you don’t know anything about her home life. Don’t judge her.” He was the class president back then, and I was the girl whose financial aid forms never had a parent’s signature. After the embarrassed nurse left, he turned to look at me. My pale reflection was mirrored in his eyes. It was the first time I felt the sting of exposed pride. He didn’t say a word, but for the first time, I felt the urge to cry and tell someone everything. Back then, his eyes were filled with pure, aching heartbreak for me. Nothing like the raging, hateful man standing before me now. Suddenly, I realized I didn’t know him at all. What made it so hilarious was that he knew everything. He knew exactly why I couldn’t eat meat. Three years ago, when my trauma resurfaced and I had a severe eating disorder, I was seeing a therapist, taking hormone pills, and crying myself to sleep every night. He had held me tight and whispered, “I don’t care if I have to eat grass with you for the rest of our lives. It’s no big deal.” I had believed him. I was so incredibly stupid. Tears spilled over as a bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Yes! I’m not normal! So what?” “It’s not like you just met me today.” “I haven’t changed, Brandon. You did.” I stared directly into his eyes, my gaze cold and sharp. “We’re done. Let’s call off the wedding.” “From now on, you never have to force yourself to eat ‘disgusting’ food ever again.” As those words left my mouth, a massive weight lifted from my chest. I grabbed my phone and my car keys, turning toward the door. Chloe grabbed my arm, her voice frantic. “Evelyn, it’s pouring outside! Where are you going to go?” She turned to Brandon, shaking his arm. “Brandon, say something! Don’t just let her leave like this!” He didn’t move. He stood there in heavy, stubborn silence. I shook Chloe’s hand off my arm and walked out. Just as I stepped into the hallway, Brandon’s voice cut through the air behind me. “She has such a temper. You can’t even say a word to her anymore.” “Let her go! She doesn’t even have a family. Let’s see where she thinks she can go!” I let out a cold laugh. The pain in my heart was numb now. My body shook, but my steps only grew steadier. The people closest to you always know exactly where to plunge the knife. The day I handed him the blade, I should have known he would eventually drive it into my heart.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443269”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I thought my online boyfriend and my college professor were the two biggest disasters in my life. One argued with me online almost every day. The other loved making me suffer in class. Until the day I was kicked out of the lab. That night, someone followed me through a dark street,I dialed my online boyfriend’s number. The very next second. My professor’s phone rang. Only then did I realize— That’s when I realized I’d been dating my professor for the past six months. Three minutes ago, I had just broken up with my online boyfriend. Now, Julian Sterling walked down from the lecture stage, his face incredibly dark. He ordered all of us to stand up and clear our desks. He seemed to be looking for something. Then, he confiscated my Nintendo Switch and took my seatmate, Chloe, out of the room with him. We all held our breath as we watched Chloe being led away. Once they left, the classroom collectively exhaled. Whispers immediately broke out among the students. “What happened to Chloe?” “She’s probably going to get ripped to shreds by Professor Sterling.” “Someone better prep some tissues for her. She’s going to cry a river.” Everyone had good reason to think so. The Sterling family was filthy rich. Julian could have easily gone home to inherit a billion-dollar empire, yet he chose to pursue academia. He used to advise Ph.D. students at a top-tier research institute abroad. Rumor had it that because the academic atmosphere at our department had been declining lately, the Dean had personally begged him to come back and teach undergrads. Handsome, brilliant, and with a killer physique—that was our first impression of him. For a while, Julian was the ultimate fantasy for every girl on campus. Students had to show up early just to fight for a seat in his lectures. But on his second day of teaching, he gave us a brutal reality check. Show up late? Automatic absence. No phones allowed in class. And the worst part: his final grading system was downright sadistic. To put it in perspective, we used to be able to pull an easy B+ in this class with our eyes closed. Now, he graded on a strict curve where only the top 10% could get an A, while the bottom 30% automatically received an F. When it came to grading research papers, he was ruthless. He was like a cold, emotionless academic executioner. Anyone summoned to his office might walk in with a smile, but they would definitely leave in tears. If there was even a tiny logical loophole in your paper, his only response was a cold: “Rewrite it.” He was the ultimate GPA assassin of the entire department. Under such immense academic pressure, I ended up getting an online boyfriend. Our relationship started with a random matchmaking queue in a game. One night, after being tortured by Julian’s paper draft until 2 AM, I completely snapped. I opened Steam and joined a random survival game. The system matched me with a teammate who didn’t say a single word but played with terrifying precision. Meanwhile, I was running around like a headless chicken. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and turned on his mic. “Your positioning is completely chaotic. Honestly, it’s worse than an undergraduate’s final thesis.” That sentence instantly triggered my PTSD. I aggressively typed back: *Who asked you? I like playing this way.* He replied coldly: *Suit yourself.* When the game ended, my stats were indeed a total disaster. But to grind my rank, I had to swallow my pride and send him a friend request. Fortunately, he didn’t hold a grudge. After playing together a few times, I realized this guy was a genuine gaming god. It was that rare feeling of finding a soulmate without ever having met in person. We didn’t need to know each other’s names or what we looked like. We were chasing a connection of the minds. Naturally, we transitioned into an online relationship. Even though we never met, we had a tacit agreement that we were exclusive. He was actually really sweet, though his most adorable trait was his occasional pettiness. For example, if I replied to his messages too slowly, or forgot to text him goodnight, he’d get sulky. Sometimes, if I snapped back at him, he would get genuinely angry. And strangely, every single time he got angry, Julian would call on me in class the next day. It was the weirdest thing. Once or twice was fine, but who could survive this happening every single time? So, I broke up with him. If I didn’t, I was literally going to fail my finals. Oh my god, who would dare to keep dating under these conditions? There had to be some kind of curse on us. We were clearly not meant to be. And now, poor Chloe was summoned to Julian’s office just because of the Switch he had bought for me. He was the one who gave me that console and insisted I carry it with me. Yesterday, I had lent it to Chloe. Dating him was truly a hazard to myself and everyone around me.

After a while, Chloe walked out of the office. She wasn’t crying. She didn’t even look upset. In fact, there was a faint, smug smile on her face. Julian’s teaching assistant, Marcus, walked out behind her. Marcus was just like Julian—cold, unapproachable, and practically a grim reaper in a suit. Marcus cleared his throat and made a solemn announcement: “The paper deadline has been extended by one week. Also, Professor Sterling is treating the entire class to dinner after lectures today.” He paused, then added, “Additionally, Chloe has officially been appointed as the Professor’s new teaching assistant.” The entire room went dead silent. Chloe had just transferred to our major this semester, and she was already Julian’s TA? I had been practically living in the library just to get a shot at that position. But who dared to say a word? A cold, arrogant man like Julian was openly showing favoritism to Chloe. More than jealousy, everyone felt pure envy. Students immediately crowded around Chloe, showering her with compliments. “Chloe, you’re amazing! How did you manage to tame a cold man like Professor Sterling?” “Thanks to you, we survived the deadline! And we get a free gourmet dinner!” … Chloe stood there elegantly, smiling shyly as she chatted with them. I had no interest in joining the hype. I quietly opened my Snapchat. It was completely empty. My online boyfriend hadn’t tried to win me back. We were officially over. Wanting some fresh air, I started to walk out, but Chloe pushed through the crowd and walked straight up to me. “Avery,” she called out politely. “Yes?” She hesitated, looking a bit sheepish. “I just wanted to ask… that Switch you lent me, did your boyfriend give it to you?” “Yeah.” “My online boyfriend.” Chloe pressed further, “Do you know what he looks like?” “No. If I did, it wouldn’t be an online relationship, would it?” “Did the console cause any trouble with the professor?” I asked cautiously. “No, Professor Sterling didn’t say much.” Chloe smiled, then added, “I really like the Switch. Do you think you could sell it to me?” I did like the console, but I didn’t care about the money. Indifferently, I said, “No need. If you like it, you can have it.” We were broken up anyway. Keeping it would only annoy me. “But… your boyfriend gave it to you.” “We broke up.” “Why?” I whispered, “We weren’t a good match.” Chloe looked thoughtful. “I see. Tell me more about him.” Realizing that sounded a bit intrusive, she quickly tried to soften her expression. “Men are all pretty much the same, I guess,” she mumbled, then lowered her voice significantly. “To be honest, Avery… Professor Sterling and I are dating now.” “I know you’ve taken a lot of his classes. I just wanted to ask… is he always this cold?” Holding my coffee, I smiled. “You’re beautiful, Chloe. I’m sure you know exactly how to handle men.” “I’ll head out first.”

Julian treated us to dinner at the most expensive restaurant in the city. It was obvious he was doing this so we would look after his new TA. Chloe sat right next to him. Julian looked at her with a remarkably soft, almost doting expression. I never expected such a ruthless man to be such a fool for love. After dinner, the weather turned bad, and a torrential downpour started. Students with umbrellas shared with those without, and everyone gradually left. I had forgotten my umbrella, so I was stuck waiting at the entrance for the rain to stop. “I can give you a ride.” I looked up at the sound of the voice. Marcus gave me a gentle look, holding his umbrella halfway over me. “Professor Sterling left with Chloe. My car is parked over there.” “Thank you, Marcus.” Once we got into the car, Marcus glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Avery, do you have a boyfriend?” “Just broke up.” Marcus wasn’t usually a talkative guy. Why was he being so warm and conversational today? “Chloe just transferred to our department. Try to help her out more.” Ah. So that was why… “Sure. She’s Professor Sterling’s girlfriend, after all. I get it.” “Avery, that’s not what I meant.” Marcus sighed. “On the contrary, there is an open spot in the main research lab. I was hoping it would be you.” What was Marcus trying to hint at? With my grades, of course it should be me. “Yeah, I’ll do my best.” Chloe and I were in the same research group, working on a core NSF-funded project led by Julian. We were each responsible for 50% of the project. She handled the first half; I handled the second. Once completed, the report had to be submitted to Julian personally. Chloe insisted on taking over the submission. Usually, turning in data to Julian was no different from stepping into a minefield. So we always passed the task around like hot potatoes. Since she was Julian’s girlfriend, I was glad to catch a break. But after she turned it in, Chloe came back looking extremely pale. She walked toward me, looking deeply troubled. I got a bad feeling in my gut. Could it be that even his girlfriend wasn’t safe from his temper? “Chloe, are you okay?” I stood up from my chair, asking out of concern. “Avery, I need to ask you a huge favor. Please, say yes.” Chloe begged, looking incredibly pitiful, as if she had been deeply wronged. “What’s wrong?” “I made a stupid, basic mistake in the first half of the report.” “I really didn’t know the data statistics had to be based on this year’s latest standards. I thought last year’s would be fine.” “I was so scared of his reaction… so I told Professor Sterling that you were the one responsible for that section.” I stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “And?” Chloe grabbed my arm, trying to pull me close. “Professor Sterling wants you in his office right now.” “Please help me out, Avery. I’ll buy you dinner next time!” Maya nudged my elbow from behind, giving me a warning look. I sighed and nodded helplessly. “Thank you so much, Avery!” Chloe’s face instantly lit up. Maya gave me a sympathetic look of solidarity. “She’s the Professor’s new TA. We can’t afford to mess with her. Good luck, Avery!” She clenched her fist in an encouraging gesture.

Bracing myself for the worst, I walked into the office with a sense of impending doom. Julian’s private office. The grey-toned decor gave off a suffocating, clinical vibe. Julian himself was practically radiating a murderous aura. Hearing me enter, he didn’t even bother to look up. “You took your sweet time. Are you physically incapable of walking faster?” I chanted in my mind: *He’s yelling at Chloe, he’s yelling at Chloe.* “How long have you been in my research group?” Julian asked, his voice dripping with impatience. “Two years,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “Two years? And this is the kind of garbage data you compile?” Julian threw the report right at my feet. I bent down to pick it up, locking eyes with his cold, ruthless gaze. His sharp eyes felt like they could rip me to shreds. “Two years in my lab and you still make such amateur mistakes? Do you think there’s any point in continuing your research stipend next month?” Terrified, I blurted out, “Yes, yes, it’s my fault.” Marcus knocked and walked in, carrying a stack of files. He glanced at me, frowning slightly. “The latter half of this report is actually excellent, but the beginning is a complete disaster. If you don’t want to do the work, you can leave the project,” Julian continued to hammer down on me. “Avery has been in the group for two years, and she’s always been the most meticulous. This doesn’t make sense. I heard she worked on this report with Chloe?” Marcus tried to speak up for me. Julian shot him a freezing glare. In that brief distraction, my eyes fell on the fountain pen Julian was holding. That pen looked incredibly familiar. It was almost identical to the one I had gifted my online boyfriend. I had handpicked it at a vintage store, and the owner had assured me it was a one-of-a-kind piece. On some weird instinct, I blurted out, “Is that pen nice to write with?” Julian’s already icy expression hardened even further. “Mind your own business.” “You’re pulling an all-nighter in the lab tonight. You don’t leave until the data is fully corrected.” Julian’s word was law. If I didn’t finish, I definitely wouldn’t be going home. Chloe was nowhere to be found in the lab all afternoon. Since I couldn’t reach her, I had to completely redo her half of the report myself. Collecting data, searching through literature… I worked through the entire evening. Soon, all the other lab members left. I was the only one left in the lab, illuminated by the glow of my computer screen. Alone, keeping company with the dark night. I took a massive gulp of my mint-infused cold brew to shock my brain awake. Once finished, I took the updated report back to Julian’s office. He had a mountain of his own research to do, so he hadn’t left his office all evening either. Julian suddenly looked up, his brow furrowing. “What is that smell on you?” “Mint cold brew. I was too tired, so I used it to wake up.” “I hate that smell.” He stopped, his eyes narrowing. “It smells like…” He seemed to struggle to find the words. Without thinking, I finished his sentence: “Like burnt tires.” I suddenly remembered my online boyfriend using that exact description with me. That’s why it was on the tip of my tongue. Julian looked momentarily dazed, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. He stared at me intensely, his eyes locked onto mine. “Who did you hear that from?” “I heard it from…” Before I could answer, Chloe pushed the door open and walked in. “Julian, you must be exhausted. I bought you some…” Seeing me there, Chloe froze. She was carrying several designer shopping bags. So that was where she had been all afternoon. “Oh, Avery, you’re still here.” *Yeah, thanks to you.* Julian casually flipped through my report. “I don’t expect to see such amateur mistakes again.” “It’s late. You can go home.” As I turned to leave, I heard Chloe ask Julian in a sweet voice, “What were you guys just talking about?” I didn’t care to look back at her expression.

At lunch the next day, Maya quietly slipped into the seat next to me. She looked around suspiciously, then whispered, “Avery, everyone is gossiping. They’re saying you stayed late in the lab last night to try and seduce Professor Sterling.” I nearly choked, spitting out my food. “Who said that?!” “Everyone is talking about it. But don’t worry, I know you wouldn’t do that.” Only Chloe and I had been in the office last night. What reason would she have to spread such a rumor? I chose not to let the baseless gossip distract me and went back to work. Later that afternoon, when I went to hand in some new data, I overheard Chloe and Julian talking inside his office. “Professor Sterling, you’ve heard the rumors going around the department,” Chloe was saying. “I think removing Avery from the research group is actually for her own protection.” Julian replied, “She’s been in the group for two years. It’s not appropriate to just kick her out.” “But her academic performance is pretty average anyway. Most of the work we did together on the project was actually done by me,” Chloe lied smoothly. “Removing her won’t hurt the project, and it’ll stop the negative rumors about her.” Hearing this, I quietly walked back to my lab bench and started packing my things. Sure enough, a few minutes later, an automated email popped up in my inbox. *System Notification: You have been removed from the NSF Research Project roster.* “Avery, can you organize this file for me?” Sylna, another lab member who didn’t know I’d been kicked out yet, handed me some papers. I quietly finished my tasks for the day. Suddenly being forced to leave made me feel a heavy pang of sadness. By the time I finished packing up all my personal belongings, it was already 8 PM. With my backpack loaded with my things, I walked alone through a dimly lit, quiet street just off campus. Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. They were getting closer. I could even hear heavy, ragged breathing. Instinctively, I quickened my pace, my heart hammering against my ribs. I pulled out my phone and went to my contacts. The first contact was the phone number my online boyfriend had given me. He had told me: *If you’re ever in danger, call this number. I’ll show up instantly.* With no other choice, I dialed the number.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443268”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I went with my boyfriend, Ethan Brooks, to watch the World Cup final. But when we reached the ticket check, the system showed no ticket purchase record under my name. Ethan smacked his forehead. “I accidentally filled in your best friend Lily Carter’s information when I bought the tickets.” “Perfect timing, since Argentina is her favorite team today, so I’ll go pick her up, and we can’t let first-row VIP tickets go to waste!” I froze and watched helplessly as my boyfriend led my best friend inside without even sparing me a glance. And I was left alone, standing outside in the cold, listening to the excitement inside. Half a month later, during our honeymoon trip, I was stopped outside the airport again. Ethan once again looked full of regret. “Nora, I filled in Lily’s information for the entire itinerary again.” “Why don’t we just go with the mistake and let me take her abroad for a trip?” “She’s not like you, since you’ve been to so many places!” As soon as he finished speaking, Lily appeared at the airport entrance. “Nora,” she said naturally as she handed her luggage to Ethan. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him for you during this trip.” “And I’ll teach him how to be a good husband while I’m at it.” In the seven years I had been with Ethan, he had filled in my best friend’s information instead of mine countless times. Every time, he apologized and said he would make it up to me next time, then turned around and left with my best friend. I thought I was being sensitive and suspicious, and I always told myself, what could possibly be going on between them? But this time, as I watched their backs while they walked away together, I didn’t want to lie to myself anymore.

Ethan did not notice my darkened expression at all. He was busy checking the documents Lily needed to bring. “Good, you brought all your documents.” “You’re much better than Nora, since she’s always careless and I always have to pack her bags for her.” As he complained about me, he put their documents together. “Nora is so lucky, since no matter where she goes, someone takes care of her.” “Unlike me, I’ve only ever had myself to rely on since I was little.” Lily’s tone was sour. I stayed silent and quietly listened from the side. After all, every time they met, the two of them would take out my flaws and discuss them. And Ethan had long since cared for her more than he cared for me. “Nora, we’re leaving! Don’t miss me too much!” “Aren’t you going to wish us a safe trip?” Lily’s voice was cheerful. When I did not answer, Ethan finally noticed my cold expression. “Nora, don’t be immature and ruin everyone’s mood, and I’ll make it up to you properly when I get back.” “Besides, we’ve been to Hawaii once before, so it won’t mean much for you to go again.” Five years ago, Ethan confessed his feelings to me in Hawaii. This time, I had wanted to find that original beauty again, but the person beside him had already changed. Returning to the same place was just me trying to chase something that was already gone. I laughed at myself. “I wish you both a safe trip.” I turned and walked out of the airport, then took a cab home. When I got home, the traces of yesterday’s wedding were still there. Confetti all over the floor, red roses, the wedding dress spread across the couch… It was not until the wedding that I found out Ethan had custom-ordered two identical wedding dresses. Lily wore the other one to my wedding. I threw a tantrum and refused to go onstage. “Nora, you and Lily grew up together, and you usually buy matching clothes all the time, so why can’t your wedding dresses be the same?” “Didn’t you two even say when you were kids that you wanted to hold your weddings together?” Ethan frowned. “Maybe Nora forgot a long time ago.” “If you don’t like it, I’ll take it off right now.” After Lily said that, she took off the wedding dress right in front of both of us. Ethan immediately took off his own jacket and wrapped it around her. “Can we hold the wedding now?” He asked me, his tone carrying anger. I swallowed the grievance in my heart, but I still nodded. I made an appointment with a housekeeping company to come pack my luggage. I had them throw the wedding dress away directly. I did not want anything that did not belong to me alone. People included. I called the city hall staff, wanting to cancel the marriage license appointment. We had originally planned to officially register the marriage after the honeymoon. Now there was no need at all. “I’m sorry, Ms. Hayes, but we couldn’t find your appointment information.” “However, the Mr. Ethan Brooks you mentioned has already made an appointment to register a marriage with Ms. Lily Carter.” Ethan had deliberately filled in the wrong information again. Although Lily and I were born on the same day and our ID numbers differed by only one digit, if the name and ID did not match, the system would not recognize it at all. I wanted to see how long Ethan would keep pretending to be stupid.

After I got up the next day, I came across a post. “Does anyone know this couple? I found their camera in Hawaii.” I tapped it open, and it was a photo of Ethan and Lily together. The two of them stood side by side by the ocean. There were also many solo photos they had taken of each other, and every moment looked beautiful. “These two are way too perfect together!” “He’s handsome, she’s gorgeous, they’re a match made in heaven!” The comments section was full of praise. I casually forwarded it to Ethan. His call came quickly. “Nora, don’t listen to the nonsense in the comments section, we only took a photo together.” Lily laughed and cut in from the side. “But the public has sharp eyes, and we really do look good together.” She snatched the phone. “Nora, relax, I’d never be interested in him.” “But he already promised me he’d quit smoking, and I don’t know how you used to stand kissing him with that smoke smell on him.” “Ew… just thinking about it is disgusting.” I replied coldly. “The important thing is to bring the camera back, since that was a gift from Grandma to my mom.” I opened the file folder on the table and took out the materials I had previously prepared for my study abroad application. Because of Ethan’s proposal, I had given it up. Now, I was going to start my life over. A few days later, it was Ethan’s mother’s birthday. I arrived at his mother’s house early, put down the gift, and was about to leave. I did not expect to still run into Ethan, who had just returned from the honeymoon. He slipped a crudely made shell bracelet onto my wrist. “What do you think? Do you like it?” “I picked these up one by one from the beach under the blazing sun, so they’re especially meaningful as a keepsake.” Lily was sitting cross-legged on the couch playing on her phone, and she came over too. “To drill holes in these stupid shells, I even stabbed my hand.” “Ethan was afraid you’d think he hadn’t taken good care of me, so he specially gave me a bracelet as an apology.” She spread both hands in front of me. The wound was smaller than a needle prick. The bracelet was bright and eye-catching, but I only found it blinding. The gifts Ethan gave me were always little handmade things. A dress he made by hand, a ceramic spoon… Every single one showed a careless kind of ugliness. But Lily often received expensive gifts from him. Once, I questioned him with red eyes. “Do you like Lily?” “Who would like her? She’s so silly. I only give her gifts on your behalf, and if you hadn’t said Lily was your best friend since childhood, I wouldn’t even bother trying to please her.” He held my hand, his eyes full of sincerity. “The things I give you can’t be bought with money, and sincerity is priceless.” I let out a scoff. I was laughing at my old lovesick self. “Nora, here’s your camera.” Lily took the camera out of her bag and threw it straight at me. The distance was too far, and I did not catch it. The camera fell to the floor and shattered into pieces. “Why didn’t you catch it?” Lily complained at me. “If it’s broken, then it’s broken, since that old antique was hard to use anyway.” Before I could say anything, Ethan pushed me straight into the kitchen. “The housekeeper took the day off, so I’ll have to trouble my wife to cook today.” He handed me a list. “These are all dishes Lily likes, and she’s worked hard taking care of me these past two days, so we need to reward her properly.” Not wanting to ruin Ethan’s mother’s birthday, I quickly made a whole table of food. Lily sat beside Ethan. She chatted and laughed with Ethan’s family. There was no longer any seat for me at the dining table. Ethan tugged my hand. “Honey, there are too many guests today, and we can’t fit everyone, so go eat in the kitchen.” When Lily heard that, she made a show of standing up. “How can that be? Only servants eat in the kitchen, so let Nora sit here.” Ethan pressed down on her leg. “You’re the guest, so just sit here with peace of mind.” “Nora isn’t that fussy, and she can eat in the kitchen.”

I carried a big bowl of food back to the kitchen. I opened the trash can and poured it in. I also threw the shell bracelet in with it. As soon as I turned around, Lily smeared a huge piece of cake across my face. “Why did you suddenly turn around, Nora?” She casually picked up a dirty rag nearby and tried to wipe my face. “Enough!” I shouted and knocked her hand away, then fumbled around to find the faucet. Ethan rushed over after hearing the commotion. Lily spoke first. “I just wanted to bring Nora some cake, but she turned her head and bumped into the cake, so it’s all my fault.” Ethan roughly pulled me over. “Apologize to Lily.” “I didn’t do anything wrong!” My gaze swept back and forth between the two of them. One was the friend who had grown up with me, and one was the person I had once loved most. But neither of them remembered I was allergic to cream. I shook off his hand and strode toward the door. Two minutes later, I got a call and hurried back to Ethan. “Take me to the hospital, my mom suddenly fainted.” Maybe it was panic, or maybe it was the allergic reaction, but I could not breathe properly, and the hand gripping his was trembling. Ethan’s mother lived in the suburbs. It was already very late, and there was no way to get a cab. Ethan’s face was calm. “Apologize to Lily first, and then I’ll take you to the hospital.” I looked at Lily, who was sitting among the crowd and constantly wiping away tears. I was clearly the one who had been wronged. With the situation urgent, I walked up to her. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay, Nora, but when you yelled at me just now, it made me feel uncomfortable…” I completely ignored what she said and pulled Ethan out the door. Inside the car, the atmosphere was terrifyingly quiet. “Honey, you and Lily have been best friends for over twenty years, and I don’t want to see you two fight, so I wanted to help you, and that’s why I asked you to lower your head first…” “Focus on driving.” I interrupted him and turned my head to the other side. A few minutes later, Lily called. “Ethan…” Lily sobbed on the other end of the phone, “I really didn’t want to bother you, but I don’t have any other friends.” “I’m scared to drive home by myself, since the road is so dark and quiet, just like the scene in that horror movie we just watched, and I’m so scared…” Ethan slammed on the brakes, and my head hit the windshield. He got out of the car, opened the passenger door, and dragged me out. “Go to the hospital yourself.” “Lily is very timid, so I have to send her home safely first.” “My mom is still waiting for me at the hospital…” I was beyond anxious. But Ethan had already driven far away, and the car lights disappeared like fireflies. This godforsaken place did not even have a signal. There was only the faint light coming from my phone. The thick darkness made my scalp tingle. Ethan had long forgotten that I was the one afraid of the dark. Once, he would install automatic night-lights in every corner of our home and prepare lots of candles in advance. He had made sure there was always light in my world. But now, that light had long since shone on someone else. I ran desperately toward the main road. Half an hour later, I finally found a car that could take me. After I reached the hospital, the doctor told me, “The patient has had a sudden cerebral hemorrhage, and the condition is very serious, but we are doing everything we can to save her.” In the next second, I lost consciousness. When I woke again, the sky was just beginning to lighten. The doctor told me that my acute shock had been caused by the allergy. “If we had found you a few minutes later, your life would have been in danger.” Luckily, Mom’s surgery was also very successful. Otherwise, I would have blamed myself for the rest of my life for not making it to her side when she needed me most.

Early the next morning, Ethan and Lily pushed open the door to my hospital room. Ethan was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, and when he came close to me, a heavy scent of perfume drifted from him. They had been together all night. “Nora, today is the day we get our marriage license.” “Ethan,” my voice trembled slightly, “my mom is still unconscious.” But Lily said, “Nora, don’t throw a tantrum, since getting the license is more important, and the date was already set, so you can’t delay it.” My emotions were on the edge of losing control. “Are you two addicted to acting?” “Ethan, you filled in Lily’s information for the appointment again this time, didn’t you? How many more times do you want to play this trick?” Ethan’s brows furrowed deeper and deeper. He opened the appointment page and froze in place. Lily tilted her head at us and smiled. “Nora, I changed the appointment information, and I just wanted to give you a surprise, so please don’t be mad at me and Ethan.” “Besides, we can just change it back when we get there.” Ethan had never let me touch his phone. But Lily could log into his account whenever she wanted. His so-called respect for privacy was nothing more than giving favoritism to someone else and leaving suspicion for me. Ethan also let out a breath of relief and rubbed the top of Lily’s head. “You little troublemaker, how could we possibly be mad at you?” Ethan took my hand. “Let’s go, Nora, you’re about to officially become my wife.” “Ethan, I want to break up with you.” I said each word slowly and clearly. After my words fell, Ethan froze. “Just because Lily changed the appointment information?” “Nora Hayes!” He gripped my wrist so hard it hurt, “Can you stop being so willful, since we’ve already had the wedding?” “Where are you going to leave my family’s reputation?” “Wherever,” I replied. Ethan was so furious that he carried me over his shoulder and went to city hall. Lily followed behind us too. Ethan’s relatives and friends had arrived a long time ago. They had even set up a small area and hired a photographer. But then they saw the big screen display: Please have Mr. Ethan Brooks and Ms. Lily Carter come to Window 2 to complete the marriage registration. Everyone looked at one another. Then they began whispering. “What’s going on? The person he had the wedding with and the person he’s getting the license with aren’t the same?” “The Brooks family wants to marry two daughters-in-law? On the wedding day, there were two brides in wedding dresses too, so isn’t this bigamy?” “A few days before the wedding, I even saw Ethan go to the OB-GYN with Lily.” Ethan hurriedly explained, “Everyone, please don’t misunderstand, the appointment information was filled in wrong, and the only wife I’ve had from beginning to end is Nora.” Lily also grabbed my sleeve. “My period was late, and since I saw you were busy with work, I asked Ethan to go with me to the hospital for a checkup.” I laughed. “The person getting the marriage license with Ethan today really isn’t me.” “Let me officially announce that Ethan and I have broken up, and from now on, I have nothing to do with him.” “Nora Hayes! Are you determined to make a scene?” “You’ll regret this!” He dragged me tightly and forced me to watch with my own eyes as he and Lily completed the marriage registration. “Are you satisfied now?” Ethan asked me with red eyes. “Happy wedding.” After saying that, I broke free from his hand and walked outside. But he grabbed me by the hair. Lily tried to stop Ethan. But she only barely brushed his arm, looking as if she had failed to stop him. During the struggle, I fell down the stairs. I sank into unconsciousness again. “I’m the patient’s family member, and the patient’s ID number is…” “Wrong? I didn’t remember it wrong.” That was Ethan’s voice. “Sir, the identity information you just gave corresponds to Ms. Lily Carter.” Someone answered him. “The patient has severe internal bleeding and needs a blood transfusion as soon as possible, so what is the patient’s blood type?” “Type O? No, no, Lily is type O.” “Doctor, I forgot.” Ethan’s voice was anxious. “Nora has a rare blood type, just like me, so take mine.” A familiar voice sounded by my ear.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443267”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

The Window He Couldn’t Climb Back Through I had a crush on the football star next door for three years. The first time he climbed into my room, he took my virginity. I thought my crush had finally come true. Until the next day, when I heard him bragging to his teammates with my own ears: “The one I really want to chase is the cheer captain, and Mia was just practice.” He told me to buy emergency contraception myself, then turned around and kissed another girl in public, turning me into the laughingstock of the whole school. Crying, I deleted every memory related to him, gave up on the university I had applied to for his sake, and instead applied to Cornell University, a thousand miles away. But just when I decided to disappear completely, the man who had destroyed me with his own hands climbed into my room again and again. “Didn’t you say you liked me? Then why are you running now?” I smiled and pushed him away. “Chase, this time, get out of my life.” After I came home from cheer practice and was about to change for a shower, my bedroom window was smashed. A football rolled to my feet. Startled, I quickly grabbed my clothes and covered my chest. “Who is it?” Chase poked his head out from behind my curtains, then jumped in through the window with a charming smile. “My football.” He was wearing only a pair of gray athletic shorts, sweat rolling down his pecs to his abs, his bronze skin glowing in the afternoon sun. He took a few steps toward me, covering me in one huge shadow. When he bent down to pick up the ball, the back of his hand brushed over my ankle and calf, and his hard knuckles sent a tremor through me. I froze in place, my heart pounding like a drum. Chase’s friends whistled from downstairs outside my house. He called out the window: “Coming.” As he jumped out the window, he turned back and winked at me. “Sorry I broke your window, Mia. I’ll pay for it.” I walked to the window, and through the gap in the curtains, I saw Chase and his friends laughing and talking downstairs, making my heart race wildly. Chase was my neighbor, and he was also the school’s football star. I had liked him ever since he moved here three years ago. As an introvert, I forced myself to join the school’s cheer squad just to get closer to him. And today, he had actually appeared in my room?! The little person in my head was screaming like crazy. What I did not expect was that he climbed in through my window again that night. “Jesus! You scared me!” I jumped up from my bed. He leaned down and moved close to my face. “I told you I’d pay for your window.” “Are you insane? You came over at night just to pay for my window?” “Is that not allowed?” “Fine, then. Fifty dollars.” “Are you sure you don’t want any other compensation?” Chase hooked a finger around the Pisces necklace on my neck and pulled me closer. I smelled the lemon-scented body wash on him, and droplets of water from the ends of his hair fell onto my chest, bringing a trace of coldness. Then he bit my lower lip and reached into my nightgown from behind. Like a frightened cat, I arched my back, yet I could not help responding to his touch and kisses. But he suddenly stopped, let me go, and gave me a playful smile. “Do you want me to keep going?” I opened my eyes and looked straight into his ice-blue ones. “Yes.” Maybe my movements were too clumsy, because Chase whispered in my ear: “First time?” “Yes.” He frowned. “Are you sure you want to do this?” “I’m sure.” “I’ll be gentle.” Without warning, he shoved inside me in one hard, violent thrust. I desperately held back my moans, biting Chase’s shoulder as my fingers dug into his solid back. I listened to my parents moving around downstairs, every noise magnified in the dead of night. Thwack Thwack Thwack I felt like I had been nailed to a cross. I did not know how long passed before he finally rolled over and lay beside me. “I have to go back, beautiful.” His tone was a little cold as he put on his clothes. Then he jumped out the window. I stared at the fluttering curtains, feeling as if I had lost something. Chase’s scent, his warmth, his breathing, everything felt like a dream.

The next morning, I ran into Chase while practicing cheer with my teammates. My face was bright red, and I did not dare look him in the eye. But he acted as if nothing had happened. After practice ended, I passed by the football team’s locker room. I heard Chase chatting with his teammates. “You really slept with Mia?” I felt a little embarrassed and was just about to quietly leave. Then I heard Chase say carelessly: “The one I want is Gianna, but I was afraid Gianna would think I’m too inexperienced, so I just used Mia for practice.” Chase’s words were like a muffled thunderclap from a clear sky, striking me without warning. Gianna was the cheer captain, the object of every guy’s fantasies at school. It was a hot afternoon, yet I felt cold all over. The conversation in the locker room continued: “Sounds like you two had quite a night.” “Did Mia make all those scratches on your back?” Chase said arrogantly, “Mia should be grateful that her first time was with me. There are plenty of girls chasing me.” One guy cried out: “What the fuck? You actually took Mia’s virginity?!” “As expected of our captain!” Another guy commented: “Mia is pretty, but she’s too skinny, and her chest is smaller than a guy’s. She can’t compare to Gianna.” Chase irritably threw the football at him, cutting him off. “I was just caught up in the moment, and besides, she seemed like she was having a hard time holding back too… she was the one who asked for it.” The others understood without needing more words and started teasing him one after another. “Mia usually acts like a nun, but who knew she was that slutty in private?” “The way she looks at you normally is like she wants to eat you alive.” The laughter in the locker room grew noticeably louder. I bit my lower lip hard and clenched both hands into fists. The sound of high heels came from the end of the hallway. I suddenly snapped back to myself and fled in a panic. I hid in the restroom and cried silently in front of the mirror. My self-respect was completely destroyed. If I had not heard it with my own ears, I would never have believed that the person who had been tangled with me so intimately last night was the same person. So it turned out that people could do something so intimate without love. And even at the most emotional, irrational moment, people could still lie and deceive. What I had foolishly believed was my happy ending was nothing more than a joke in someone else’s mouth. The more I cried, the more miserable I felt. Yet I did not even dare make a louder sound, and my body kept trembling. After a long while. A notification popped up on my phone. It was from Chase. [I forgot to remind you about something. I didn’t wear a condom last night. Go buy emergency contraception yourself, and make sure you remember to take it. Good girl.] I stared at the message, not knowing what to reply. He and I had done it twice last night, and I clearly knew there would be risks, but I did not dare ask anything of him. I had even felt secretly happy that he had not worn a condom, as if we could completely belong to each other and become one. I never thought all I would get in return was his mockery. In that instant, I became much more awake. I turned on the faucet and washed away my tears. After tidying myself up, I walked out of the restroom, rode my bike, and went to a pharmacy far from home. After I got home and swallowed the pill, I sat on the carpet in my bedroom in a daze. Through the window, I could see his room. I watched him listen to music in his room and run on the treadmill. To me, that had been the most charming view in the world. Now, I only felt bitterness. And he had broken into my window, then closed it with his own hands. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, lights came on one after another, then went out one after another. I did not know how long had passed when my best friend Lily called me on video. “Mia, why didn’t you come to my birthday party tonight? “Gianna showed up uninvited. While you’re not here, she’s trying to seduce Chase!” After Lily finished speaking, she turned the camera around. Gianna was wearing a miniskirt that barely covered her butt, sitting on Chase’s lap.

Just as those boys had said, she really was sexy, with her chest and hips like taut balloons. Gianna had her arms hooked around Chase’s neck and was saying something in his ear. Chase’s hand rested casually on Gianna’s thigh, and she made him burst out laughing. Even through the screen, I could feel the intense, flirtatious atmosphere. A sharp pain went through my chest. I had secretly loved Chase for three years and approached him carefully, yet I had become a sex toy for his practice. So it turned out that Gianna could get him so easily. Then the people at the party started playing a dare game. Gianna drew a dare to do fifty push-ups in the missionary position and needed to choose a male guest to cooperate. As expected, Chase immediately stood up. Everyone started cheering. Gianna blushed and obediently lay down on the couch. Chase braced himself above her and did dozens of push-ups in one go. Several times, their lips touched. On the last one, I did not know whether he had finally run out of strength or whether Chase had done it on purpose. He failed to hold himself up and fell directly on top of Gianna. The screams around them grew even louder, nearly lifting the roof off. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Amid everyone’s frantic cheering, Chase wrapped his arms around Gianna and kissed her wildly. I stared at the screen, my heart feeling as if it had been cut by a knife. On the other end of the call, Lily complained: “Mia, do you see him clearly now? This is the man you’re obsessed with.” “Don’t blame me. If I didn’t let you see it with your own eyes, you would never give up.” I gave a bitter smile. “I don’t blame you. I already knew.” I only blamed myself for being too stupid. Lily said with heartache: “I’m going to help you teach that jerk a lesson. If he doesn’t love you, he could have just rejected you. Why did he do that to you last night?!” “That was your first time! Stop loving him!” “I won’t, Lily,” I said calmly. “I’ve already decided. I’m going to Cornell University with you. But you have to help me keep it a secret for now.” After hanging up, I applied to Cornell University online. I had originally wanted to apply to the University of Alabama because I hoped I could still go to the same school as Chase in college. It had the best college football team in the country. But now, I decided to stay far away from Chase, even though I was afraid of the cold and did not really like the North.

While showering that night, I saw myself in the bathroom mirror. There were still obvious hickeys on my chest. Memories of last night flooded back to me uncontrollably. I shook my head hard, forcing myself to forget everything about last night. Then I found the roughest washcloth and scrubbed my skin over and over until my whole body turned red. I clumsily tried to wash away this most unbearable memory of my life. Sure enough, Chase did not send me any more messages. I mocked myself, wondering what I was still expecting. I fell asleep in a blur through my tears. Early the next morning, while I was still fast asleep, I suddenly felt in my dream that someone was chasing me. I woke with a start. But when I opened my eyes, what I saw was a familiar jaw and Adam’s apple. It was Chase, lying beside my bed. I glanced at the pushed-open window, realizing he had broken into my room through my window again. Seeing that I was awake, Chase stroked my face with his hand. I hurriedly turned my head away and pushed him off. “What are you doing in my room again?” Chase froze for a second, then laughed at me. “Why are you still shy?” I sat up in bed, put some distance between us, and pointed at the window. “Get out!” Not only did Chase not move, he asked me with a playful grin: “Why didn’t you text me back yesterday?” I opened my phone, and he really had sent me a message at one in the morning. “Did you take the emergency contraception?” Looking at that cold message, I said sarcastically: “Don’t worry. I took a whole box. I’m more afraid than you are of getting pregnant with your bastard.” Chase’s jaw tightened, and his expression darkened. But very quickly, he gave a playful smile again. “What? Are you mad at me? How about we do it again as my apology?” He took a condom out of his pocket. “This time I’ll remember to wear one.” Then he pulled me closer and reached into my nightgown. A tingling sensation ran through me, but I quickly came back to my senses and struggled desperately. But at five foot three, I was no match for this six-foot-three man. “Chase, what exactly do you want?” “Is playing with me and humiliating me the only joy in your life?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443266”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My three blood brothers are going to shatter my legs and trade me to the enemy Alpha for the Omega they all share as a mate. And right now — I was tied to my own bed. The taste of the farewell drink is still on my tongue — bitter, herbal, wrong. My wrists are bound. My ankles are bound. The silver in the ropes burns my skin and keeps my wolf locked deep inside me, silent, useless. Caelan stands at the foot of my bed with a silver-laced iron rod in his hand. Marek is pinning my shoulders. Sable is pinning my legs. “Raven,” Caelan says, “don’t hate us. Elara can’t be the one they take.” He swings. The rod comes down on my right leg. My bone snaps. I’m going to hear that sound for the rest of my life. Silver bites into the break. My wolf screams inside me and can’t get out. I don’t scream. I won’t give them that. “So it should be me,” I say through my teeth. Blood is filling my mouth from where I bit my tongue. Marek’s grip on my shoulders tightens until I feel something crack in the joint. He won’t look at me. His jaw is locked so hard it’s shaking. “Raven, this is for the pack.” “This is for her,” I spit. Sable’s hands tighten on my ankles. His eyes — usually the warm ones, the laughing ones, the brother who used to braid my hair before patrols — are cold as winter stone. “You’re the Iron Wolf,” he says quietly. “You’re worth more alive than dead. They might not kill you.” “Might not.” I laugh, and it sounds like something dying. The rod comes up again. I see Caelan’s hand on the grip, steady. The crack is louder this time. Sweat soaks through my shirt. My vision tunnels. I hear, very far away, Caelan drop the rod. I hear him wipe my blood off his face with his sleeve. Slow. Careful. The way our mother taught him to clean a hunting knife. He leans over me. His hand brushes my hair back from my forehead like I’m a pup again. “Sleep, little wolf,” he murmurs. “When you wake up, Elara will be home.” I dig my nails into the bed frame. I find the last scrap of breath in my body. “Caelan.” He stiffens. “Marek. Sable.” I make them hear their names. I make them hear them in my voice — the voice that called for them when I was six and lost in the north woods, the voice that howled their victory after Bonecrag’s first defeat. I smile. Blood bubbles between my teeth. “You’re going to regret this. All three of you. For the rest of your lives.” Caelan’s face does something then. Something small. Something that breaks. But he turns away. Marek lets go of my shoulders. Sable lets go of my legs. They line up behind their oldest brother like soldiers, like strangers, like three men who have already buried me in their heads. They walk out without looking back. The door closes. The lock turns. Click. And just like that, I, the Iron Wolf of Ashfall Pack, become a broken thing chained in my own bedroom, waiting to be delivered.

They put me in an iron-barred cage and roll me toward Ghostfang Ridge. Seven days. Seven days of every rut in the road splitting my legs open again. The bandages soak through by the second day. By the fourth, the cloth has fused to the wound and I can smell my own blood going wrong in the heat. The warrior driving the cage is one of Sable’s. Young. Loyal. He keeps his head down the whole ride. When my lips crack from thirst, he passes a waterskin through the bars without looking at me. “Forgive me, Commander.” He says it every time. I drink. I don’t answer. I have no hate left for him. I’m saving all of it. On the seventh night, the cage stops. I smell the border before I see it. Pine. Cold stone. Old blood in the dirt where Ashfall and Bonecrag have been killing each other for a hundred years. Ghostfang Ridge. Two Bonecrag warriors haul me out by the arms. My legs drag behind me like meat on a hook. They drop me in the dirt between the two pack lines. I lift my head. And there he is. The reason. Elara Wren. She is wrapped in a thick fur cloak that I have seen before — Caelan’s cloak, the one our mother wove for him the year he became Enforcer. Marek is already pressing a steaming waterskin into her hands. Sable is brushing snow off her hair like she’s made of glass. She is unharmed. Not a bruise. Not a scratch. Not a single hair out of place. Beyond her stands Alpha Yvarn — in full battle leathers, his new Beta at his shoulder like a shadow. He looks down at me the way a man looks at a wolf he’s been hunting for years and has finally cornered. His smile is a slow, hungry thing. “So,” he says. “The Iron Wolf. Crawling in my dirt.” His warriors laugh. My brothers don’t say a word. Caelan steps forward and bows his head — bows it — to the Alpha who slaughtered our patrols for three winters. “Alpha Yvarn. We’ve brought her. May we take Elara home?” His voice is careful. Almost begging. I have never heard my brother beg. Yvarn laughs out loud. He points his riding crop at me. “This?” he drawls. “This is the Iron Wolf of Ashfall? She can’t even crawl.” His men howl. My brothers’ faces go red with shame — and still, still, none of them speak. They just close ranks tighter around Elara, like she’s the one who needs protecting from the humiliation. And then Elara peeks out from behind Caelan’s shoulder. She looks down at my legs. At the bandages. At the blood frozen black on my trousers. There is no guilt in her face. There is something else. Her lips curve. Just slightly. Just for me. A small, perfect, secret smile. A winner’s smile. I have known Elara since she was a pup. I carried her on my back through the first snow she ever saw. I let her cry into my fur the night her parents died. I gave my brothers permission to court her, all three of them, when the bond first sparked between them. And this is what she gives me back. A smile. I press my forehead into the cold dirt and I laugh. Quiet. Bloody. Real. I am going to live until I take it off her face myself.

Yvarn flicks his wrist and his warriors release Elara. She gathers her skirts and runs to my brothers. “Caelan!” She throws herself into his chest, sobbing like a pup who’s been beaten. Caelan catches her and wraps his cloak tighter around her shoulders. His mouth presses into her hair. “You’re safe, little moon. You’re safe now. We’re going home.” Marek closes in on her other side, hands cupping her face, checking, checking, checking. “Did they touch you? Did they hurt you? Tell me, Elara —” Sable’s hand is at the small of her back, steady, possessive, the way a mate’s hand sits on his mate. Three brothers. One Omega. One mate-bond strong enough to break a sister’s legs over. Nobody looks at me. Not one of them. I lie in the dirt at the edge of their circle. The trade is done. I’m just the broken thing they left behind. My wolf is silent. My legs are screaming. And I have never seen anything in my life uglier than this — the way my brothers fuss over her while their own blood bleeds out four feet away. Yvarn watches it all. He’s enjoying himself. “Take her,” he says. Two Bonecrag warriors hook their hands under my arms and start dragging me toward their line. My legs leave two long red trails in the snow. As they pull me past my brothers, I turn my head. I use the last of my strength. “Caelan Ashwood. Marek Ashwood. Sable Ashwood.” Three names. Three blows. All three of them go still. Elara, tucked safe in their arms, looks at me over Caelan’s shoulder. Her smile widens. “You traded me,” I say, and my voice carries across the snow like a death-howl, “for an Omega who can’t fight her way out of a den.” Caelan’s hand fists in Elara’s cloak. “One day,” I tell them, “Ashfall lands will burn. Bodies will line every border. And it will be because of what you did here today.” Marek will not meet my eyes. Sable’s face has gone dead white. “Get her out of here!” Caelan roars. Not at me. At Yvarn’s warriors. “Get her out of here.” They drag me faster. The Bonecrag line closes around me. The Ashfall gates groan shut behind me. I hear them lock. My pack is gone. They bring me to Yvarn’s war tent. He is already seated when they throw me down on the rugs. The tent smells of pine smoke and oiled steel. He’s cleaning his curved silver blade, slow, the way Caelan cleaned my blood off his face. “Three winters ago,” he says, not looking up, “at Stonehollow Pass, you killed ten thousand of my warriors. You took my Beta. He was my brother.” He lifts his eyes. They are pale and flat and full of something patient. “I swore on his bones I would make you wish you’d died on that field.” He stands. He walks to me. He crouches. The silver blade comes up under my chin and he tips my face toward his. His smile is gentle. That’s the worst part. “And now, little Iron Wolf,” Alpha Yvarn murmurs, “I have you.”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260718VzFCY660wO 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni402279”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix