To make me miscarry, my 7-year-old son Leo Brown deliberately made me step on a toy car and fall. When I woke up, Leo’s grandmother Amelia Brown scolded me for bringing bad luck, while my husband Matthew Brown looked at me coldly. He said, “How could you be so careless? Now, we’ve lost our child. Who can you blame?” Leo hid behind Matthew without a trace of guilt. He said, “Grandma said as long as the baby in your belly dies, Dad will marry Ms. Price, and the daughter in Ms. Price’s belly will be my sister.” I completely lost all hope, left behind a divorce agreement and a document severing the mother-son relationship, and left. I no longer want such a husband and son. ***** I just woke up, and Amelia’s scolding was ringing in my ears. She said, “Do you really think being pregnant makes you a queen? You do nothing at home all day. You deserve to fall.” I instinctively touched my belly. My once swollen belly had become flat. My tears fell silently. Amelia was still blaming me, saying I slipped because I argued with her. She said, “Chloe, you’re just someone who brings us bad luck.” Chloe Morgan is my name. Matthew arrived late. He unhappily stopped the still nagging Amelia and said, “Enough. Since it already happened, stop talking about it.” I looked into his cold eyes and asked, “Do you also think it’s my fault?” Leo stood behind Matthew, holding his favorite toy car. I clearly remember that I accidentally stepped on Leo’s toy car while arguing with Amelia, which caused me to fall. The intense pain made me pass out instantly. The baby I had carried for five difficult months turned into a pool of blood and left me. But the person who caused my miscarriage was still behind Matthew, secretly making faces at me. Leo said, “Grandma said as long as your baby dies, Dad will marry Ms. Price, and the daughter in Ms. Price’s belly will be my sister.” I couldn’t believe these were the words my own son said to me. I was shaking with anger, pointing at Leo and asking Matthew, “Matthew, did you hear that? It was your son on purpose.” Matthew directly scolded me, “How could you be so careless? Now, our child is gone. And you blame it on my son? He’s just a kid! How could he intentionally harm you?” His accusations left me completely disappointed. I thought Matthew would care about me a little. Turns out, I was overthinking. At that moment, Matthew’s phone rang. It was a special ringtone he had set for someone. He answered the phone. Immediately, a soft female voice came through. “Matthew, my stomach feels a bit uncomfortable. Could you come and check on me?” This is the person he can’t forget, Mia Price. Matthew didn’t hesitate at all and left me, who had just miscarried, behind. Leo was also worried about Mia, so he went along. Immediately, Amelia left angrily as well. I suddenly felt so pathetic. My husband and son could both abandon me for another woman. I closed my eyes wearily, with only one thought in my mind. I want a divorce. Not long after, I saw Mia’s social media post. The photo showed a man’s hands peeling shrimp. His fingers were long and well-defined. I instantly recognized these as Matthew’s hands. I’ve been married to him for 7 years, but he never did these things for me. Matthew is a genius pianist, and he has always valued his hands greatly. Our only trip was our honeymoon after we got married. At that time, we brought two heavy suitcases. Since I had done my nails, it was inconvenient for me to carry them. Matthew coldly said, “Chloe, my hands are for playing the piano, not for carrying luggage.” In the end, I had to carry the suitcases alone the whole time. My nails split in the middle, and it was very painful. But Matthew didn’t feel sorry for me at all; instead, he blamed me for being too vain and insisting on getting my nails done. But now, his hands can peel shrimp for Mia. Turns out, it’s not that his hands are too noble, but that I’m not worthy enough for him to do these things. I numbly flipped to the next picture. In the photo, Mia was feeding Leo a piece of carrot with a fork. The caption read: [He’s such a good kid, not picky at all.] Leo is actually very picky. To balance his nutrition, I specifically added carrots to the meatballs to make it easier for him to eat. But he threw a tantrum and scattered the meatballs all over the floor. When Matthew came back from overtime, he clung to Matthew’s leg, crying, “Mom’s mean. I don’t like carrots, but she made me eat them.” Amelia also criticized me for forcing Leo to eat something he doesn’t like. I couldn’t argue back, and Matthew didn’t say a word, giving me the cold shoulder for a week. But now, Leo willingly eats the carrots fed by Mia. He truly is Matthew’s son; they even like the same woman. I closed my phone in disappointment, feeling utterly cold inside. I don’t want a husband and son like this anymore.

The day I was discharged, no one came to pick me up. My lower abdomen still hurts. While hailing a cab at the hospital entrance, I got splashed with dirty water by a passing car. As soon as I got home, I saw a harmonious scene. Matthew was holding Mia, looking at her tenderly. Leo sat on the other side of Mia, curiously touching her slightly rounded belly. He asked, “Ms. Price, don’t babies kick inside their mom’s belly? Why didn’t she kick me?” Mia pinched Leo’s cheek and said with a smile, “She’s still tiny and can’t kick yet. Leo, just wait a little longer.” The three of them looked like a happy family, while I, standing at the door, felt completely out of place. Seeing me return, Leo said disdainfully, “Did you come back from the dump? Why are you so dirty and smelly?” He exaggeratedly pinched his nose, while Mia covered her mouth, giggling. Matthew frowned and asked, “How did you end up like this?” I clenched my fingers tightly until my nails dug deep into my flesh, and the pain brought me back to my senses. I looked at the man I had loved for nearly 10 years, with no emotion left in my eyes. I said, “Matthew, let’s get a divorce.” As if he thought he misheard, Matthew asked me, “What did you say?” I firmly repeated, “I said, let’s get a divorce. I’ll make way for Mia so she and the baby won’t suffer anymore.” A hint of mockery flashed in Matthew’s eyes. He sneered and said, “Chloe, since when did you learn these cheap tricks? Let me tell you, they don’t work on me.” At this moment, Mia stood up, then walked over to me and grabbed my hand. She gently persuaded me, “Chloe, don’t misunderstand. I never thought of breaking you two apart. I have no relatives or friends in New York, and Matthew is the only one I know, so I asked him for help. If you don’t like it, I won’t ask him anymore.” I gently pulled my hand back, but Mia suddenly fell backward, as if I had pushed her. Matthew immediately became furious. He supported Mia and yelled at me, “Chloe, Mia is pregnant. How could you push her?” Leo also ran up to me and punched me hard. He said, “Bad mommy, you can’t bully Ms. Price. Just because you lost your baby doesn’t mean you can bully Ms. Price.” A 7-year-old child used all his strength to hit me. My already aching stomach hurt even more from his punches. But this pain was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. I pushed Leo away and sneered, “Don’t worry. No one will ever hurt your beloved woman again.” After saying that, I went straight upstairs. Matthew and Leo only had Mia in their eyes and hearts, completely ignoring me. In the 7 years of marriage, I almost only bought things for Matthew and Leo. There are very few things in this house that belong to me. I can pack all of them into a 28-inch suitcase. I threw the signed divorce agreement and the letter severing mother-son ties on the bed. Then, I took off the plain ring from my left ring finger and placed it on that pile of papers. This plain ring is the only piece of jewelry Matthew bought me in our 7 years of marriage. It was something he casually bought at the counter just to get through the wedding when we first got married. But even such a simple ring, I cherished it for 7 years. The moment I took off the ring, the last bit of attachment I had for Matthew was completely gone. At this moment, my phone received a message. It was Amelia who sent a photo in the family group chat of four hands playing the piano together. On the black and white piano keys, the two pairs of hands both had couple rings on their left ring fingers. This was a photo of Matthew and Mia at a concert while I was hospitalized. After posting the photo, Amelia even praised: [Look at Matthew and Mia. They are just perfect for each other!] Matthew’s other family members also joined in the teasing. I watched coldly, then sent a thumbs-up emoji in the group chat. In an instant, the lively group chat fell silent. Amelia even deleted all the previous messages she had sent. I didn’t want to deal with them anymore, so I left the group chat. When I came downstairs with my luggage, Matthew was staring at me coldly. He said, “My mom just posted a photo. Did you really need to leave the group chat?” Mia’s eyes were red too, pretending to look pitiful. She said, “Chloe, Matthew and I have always been piano partners. This time, I’m just a special guest for him. Don’t be mad.” I let out a cold snort and walked out resolutely. I said coldly, “Matthew, remember to sign the divorce papers.” At that moment, a “thud” sounded at my feet. I looked down and saw a cracked ruby pendant. I turned around and saw Leo’s eyes cold and full of disgust. I could hardly imagine this was the look my own child gave me. Leo said, “It’s best if you, this bad woman, leave and never come back. I don’t want your trash anymore.” I gave a bitter smile, looking at the ruby pendant on the ground. Back then, I had a difficult labor giving birth to Leo. As a result, Leo often fell ill as a child. To bless him with safety and health, I went to the church locals said was most favored by the divine and went through great effort to buy this ruby pendant. But now, Leo treats it like trash and throws it away. I nodded and said, “Alright, I don’t like you anymore either.” A son like this doesn’t deserve my love.

Actually, I should never have expected anything from this marriage. I always knew Matthew didn’t love me. My parents passed away early, and it was Matthew’s grandfather, Lincoln Brown, who supported me, helping me finish college and become a teacher. The first time I went to the Brown Villa, I fell in love with Matthew. Lincoln didn’t care about family background, thought I was dependable, and often teased me and Matthew, saying he wanted me to marry Matthew. But I always heard about Matthew and Mia’s passionate love story. They dated from high school to college. Both were skilled at piano and widely recognized as the perfect couple. However, after Matthew’s father passed away unexpectedly, Lincoln’s health quickly declined. Matthew needed to take over the family business, while Mia insisted on going abroad for her music dreams. And just like that, they broke up. Because of this, I, who often visited and cared for Lincoln, had the chance to get closer to Matthew. Lincoln’s dying wish was to see Matthew get married. Matthew was forced to marry me. Later, we had Leo. I don’t understand music, so Matthew always found me vulgar. As a result, even Leo looked down on me for not understanding art. Later, Mia went through a failed marriage abroad and then returned to New York alone. The legendary perfect couple reunited for a collaboration after many years. Matthew’s love for her reignited. Leo is very much like him. The woman he likes, Leo likes too. Leo mentioned Mia more than once in front of me, saying she was elegant and beautiful, unlike me—crude and ignorant. Hearing my son say that, I was heartbroken. But gradually, I got used to it and became numb to Matthew and Leo’s preference for Mia. I finally realized that my marriage to Matthew was a mistake from the start. We might as well cut ties. After leaving the Brown Villa, I lived in the school’s faculty dormitory. Matthew didn’t come looking for me, probably thinking I was still sulking. I took out the Volunteer Teaching application form that the school had given to all teachers earlier. Before, because I was pregnant with my second child, I had no intention of joining Volunteer Teaching. But now, I resolutely submitted my application to Principal Owen Adams to participate in Volunteer Teaching in the mountains. I came from the mountains, so I want to help the kids there step out of the mountains too. Owen looked at me with concern. Seeing my determination, he eventually approved my application. The day I left, the kids in my class were very reluctant to see me go. Actually, apart from an unhappy marriage, I was very happy at school. Owen highly valued my abilities, and my students admired me greatly. Before, I trapped myself in an unhappy family. The next day, I messaged Matthew to meet me at the Courthouse to handle the divorce paperwork. But I waited until evening, and he never showed up. It was only then that I saw his performance with Mia had made the news again. Everyone was praising them as the perfect duo. Even Leo showed an admiring look toward Mia during the interview. He said, “Ms. Price is really beautiful. She and Dad are a perfect match.” So, I said goodbye to my colleagues and students, then boarded the bus heading to the mountains. After a few days of bumpy travel, I arrived in the mountains for Volunteer Teaching. The children here are poor but very simple and sincere. To welcome us teachers, they even specially prepared roasted potatoes. The conditions in the mountains are tough. After just a few days, I was bitten by insects and experienced vomiting and diarrhea due to not adapting well to the environment. However, with the help of the students and local villagers, I gradually got used to life in the mountains. But on my fifth day in the mountains, an earthquake struck the area. I shielded the students as they fled and sought shelter, but my path was blocked by falling slabs, leaving me trapped in the rubble. At this moment, Mia had just finished playing a piece and was gracefully taking a bow on stage. Matthew in the audience led the applause, his eyes full of admiration. After Mia stepped off the stage, she took Matthew’s arm, and they faced the interview together. Mid-interview, Matthew’s phone kept vibrating. The phone showed it was Chloe calling. Mia frowned slightly but then softly said, “Matthew, why don’t you take the call? She might have something urgent.” Matthew hung up the phone in disgust. He said, “She just wants to make peace. What could she possibly want?” It wasn’t until the tenth ring that he impatiently answered. A stranger’s voice came from the other end. “Hello, are you Ms. Morgan’s husband, Mr. Brown? A 6.1 magnitude earthquake struck Humboldt County, and the area where Ms. Morgan is located was hit the hardest.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “398329”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G #Wife #powerful #Gritty #Divorce

Married for five years, I, Joyce Felton, showed signs of a threatened miscarriage, while my husband, Jude Rivers, made headlines for taking wedding photos with his secretary, Summer Fields. I lay in the hospital bed, took a screenshot, and posted on Instagram with the caption: [You two look perfect together, wishing you happiness.] The next second, Jude called. “Joyce, what nonsense are you posting again?! Do you know that because of what you said, Summer is now crying her eyes out? How did you become so vicious?” On the other end of the line came Summer’s pitiful sobbing. My silence completely enraged Jude. He said, “Joyce, if you do something like this again, we’ll get a divorce!” In the past, whenever I heard the word “divorce,” I would always break down in tears and apologize. But this time, I simply replied softly, “Alright.” ***** I walked in carrying a bunch of medication for pregnancy support, only to meet Jude’s cold and gloomy gaze. “Where did you go?” he asked. Before I could speak, he casually glanced at the bag of medicine, a look of realization flashing in his eyes. He sneered and said, “Summer guessed right. You went to the hospital again to get your classmate to write a fake medical record, trying to fake illness to get my attention?” He rubbed his tired temples, sighed, and said helplessly, “Joyce, have you had enough? Hurry up and delete that Instagram post, got it? Stop threatening me with divorce all the time. Don’t think I won’t go through with it!” “Haven’t I explained it to you? That wedding photoshoot was just part of Summer’s variety show segment, for the sake of the show!” He sat steadily on the sofa the entire time. Believing I was faking illness, he didn’t even bother to help me, even though I struggled so much to push the door while clutching my stomach. The taxi ride home drained all my energy. Right now, I just want to follow the doctor’s advice and rest well. Faced with his questioning and accusations, I didn’t break down and explain like I used to. I simply gave him a calm glance, then took out my phone and decisively deleted that post. Then, I showed him my phone. “I deleted it.” Jude obviously didn’t expect me to cooperate like this, and his expression turned a bit complicated. He was somewhat surprised and also dissatisfied. I had no interest in guessing his emotions and turned to grab the medicine, ready to head back to my room. He suddenly smashed the cup on the table and yelled at me, “Joyce, who are you putting on this act for?! Do I have to expose that this medicine is fake?!” He rushed forward, grabbed the medicine bag, rummaged through it for a while, and froze when he saw the unfamiliar doctor’s name on the diagnosis. He murmured, “How could this be? Why isn’t it your classmate?” Leaning against the wall, anger rose in my heart as I lowered my gaze with a cold smile. “Mr. Rivers, did you forget? My classmate was dismissed a year ago because of your secretary.” A year ago, I went to my university classmate who studied medicine because of rectal bleeding and abdominal pain. She said it might be an intestinal obstruction and suggested I get hospitalized early for treatment, possibly requiring surgery if it’s serious. I honestly told Jude, hoping he could take care of me for a few days. Summer smiled and said, “Ms. Felton, I know you mind me often taking up Mr. Rivers’ time, but you can’t fake being sick just to get attention. My grandmother is a doctor, so I know a bit about medicine. You look perfectly healthy, how could you be ill?” Jude, who was originally worried about my health, immediately looked upset upon hearing that. He knew I had a good relationship with that medical student and sneered as he tore up my medical records. He said, “I’d like to see just how serious your illness can be.” Following Summer’s suggestion, he locked me at home and forbade me from going to the hospital. He had the housekeeper prepare medicine personally mixed by Summer every day. However, on the third day of taking that medicine, I had a high fever, fell unconscious, and vomited blood. If the housekeeper hadn’t secretly taken me to the emergency room under pressure, I might have died. But Jude, who rushed over, not only didn’t feel sorry for me but instead comforted the tearful and apologizing Summer. Summer said, “I’m sorry, Ms. Felton, it’s all my fault for being too hasty and giving the wrong prescription.” Jude scolded me, “Are you stupid? Didn’t you check the effects before taking the medicine?” My classmate couldn’t stand it anymore and pointed at Jude, yelling, “Are you crazy? You let your wife take any random prescription? Do you just want her to die early so you can marry your lover?” Because of this sentence, Jude believed that I conspired with my classmate to set up a trap, intending to ruin Summer’s reputation. Jude is a nationally renowned professor and a close friend of the hospital director. The outcome was that my originally treatable intestine was removed due to necrosis, and my doctor friend was also dismissed. After this incident, I completely gave up on Jude.

Jude seemed to recall this incident as well, and the furious expression on his face gradually calmed down. He cleared his throat lightly and placed the medicine on the table. Then, as if changing the subject, he smiled, picked up a bag of cold breakfast from the dining table, and said, “I happened to pass by the restaurant we used to frequent on my way back. Isn’t this your favorite?” I looked at him coldly, but I couldn’t help laughing inside. He had just finished a half-month-long research conference. Meanwhile, Summer’s Instagram was full of pictures of Jude taking her to top-notch restaurants. But when it came to me, he only bought me cheap snacks. Am I someone so cheap that I can be brushed off like this? The dull pain in my lower abdomen persisted, and I really couldn’t be bothered to argue with him anymore. I said, “Jude, 20-year-old Joyce was willing to eat this with you because she liked you. “But now, I’m 30, and I don’t like you anymore.” After saying that, I turned to leave. Jude wanted to say something but was interrupted by a sudden message. He ignored me and turned to the balcony to handle his business. I locked the bedroom door, wrapped my chilly body in the blanket, trying to absorb some warmth. The next second, I fell into a dream filled with memories. Jude and I once shared a long period of love and affection. I was a pampered rich girl, and he was a sponsored poor student. But he was smart and ambitious. We met during a hiking event organized by the school. That day, halfway through the hike, a sudden downpour came, and I almost slipped off a cliff, but he grabbed me just in time. At that time, he was tall, with a strong build from working part-time at an auto repair shop for a long time. He was amused by my tearful expression, his deep eyes full of laughter. He said, as long as he’s here, nothing will happen to me. He kept his word; during the rest of the hike that day, he stayed by my side, protecting me. He even helped me scare away the snake I feared most. After that day, we started interacting more and more. On my 20th birthday, he took me to a fancy restaurant with the money he had saved for a long time. Back then, he wasn’t familiar with table manners, yet with a flushed face, he pulled a diamond necklace out of his suit pocket. He promised me, “Joyce, I will do my best to give you a good life!” Later, he really did it. On the day he became a professor, he proposed to me. But in the fourth year of our marriage, Summer appeared. All the beauty withered away. Suddenly, a loud bang, and the bedroom door was violently kicked open.

I was trapped in a nightmare, terrified, and the next second, Jude yanked my hair hard and dragged me off the bed. I clutched my lower abdomen in fear, but still, the hard floor struck it with sharp pain. This child was unexpected, but because of him, there was a glimmer of hope in my bleak life. I trembled as I said, “My baby! Jude, my stomach hurts!” He stared at me coldly, his tone icy. “It’s all because of the post you made! Now Summer is being cursed on trending searches. Issue a statement immediately, saying we divorced long ago and you’re the ex-wife.” I clutched my lower abdomen and let out a bitter laugh. “Jude, don’t go too far. I can make the post, but only after we officially finalize the divorce.” Jude angrily smashed the couple’s ceramic mug on the dressing table. He pointed at my nose and yelled, “Joyce, don’t be ungrateful!” Ceramic shards cut my instep, and blood gushed out, quickly staining the floor red. Due to blood loss, I felt dizzy, and the only thought in my mind was that the baby must be okay! I grabbed Jude’s shirt corner and pleaded, “Please, my stomach hurts so much, take me to the hospital quickly!” Jude sneered and shook off my hand, saying coldly, “Stop acting. Do you think using the baby to threaten me still works? I’m tired of this trick long ago.” I closed my eyes and gave a bitter smile. Yes, ever since Summer appeared, I’ve been trapped in the darkest time of my life. At that time, Jude was almost constantly revolving around her. To save my marriage, I had to fake a pregnancy to trick Jude into coming home. At first, he believed it a few times. Later, Summer smiled and revealed a medical report, exposing the fact that I wasn’t pregnant at all. But after Jude left me in anger, I actually got pregnant. However, this time, when he saw my pregnancy report, he no longer cared. ***** Excessive blood loss caused the dizziness to intensify. I gritted my teeth and struggled to get up, but Jude, who just came back with the medicine, pressed me down. With a grim face, he sprinkled all the hemostatic powder on the wound. The intense pain made me scream, and cold sweat instantly soaked my entire back. He casually tossed the empty bottle aside and coldly warned, “Don’t play tricks. Until you explain clearly, you’re not going anywhere.” I wanted to explain, but the injury on my foot not only didn’t ease but also caused chills all over, and the sinking feeling in my lower abdomen grew stronger. Terrified, I grabbed the medicine bottle to check and found it wasn’t for stopping bleeding at all. “This isn’t a hemostatic medicine!” I threw the bottle away with trembling hands. Jude’s face turned pale instantly. Realizing things were out of control, he quickly stepped forward to help me out the door. His Maybach was parked at the doorstep. That car had only ever been used to drive Summer to and from work. Usually, I could only drive the old Ford. Jude once said that since I often needed to go to the hospital for check-ups, it wasn’t suitable to drive such an expensive car. Summer’s health was fragile, and driving that old car wasn’t good for her. This time, he hesitated for a moment but ultimately didn’t say anything to belittle me. When he opened the passenger door for me, I instinctively sat in the back seat. There was only one reason. The passenger seat was blatantly decorated with a cartoon sticker saying “Mr. Rivers’ Precious Seat.” Jude coughed awkwardly. “Summer is just a kid.” I held my lower abdomen and nodded calmly. “Mm, I understand. Go ahead and drive.” Jude pressed his lips together, seemingly displeased with my reaction. He drove towards the hospital, glancing at my expression countless times through the rearview mirror along the way. I kept my eyes closed the whole time, enduring the pain. The car got onto the highway, but Jude suddenly received a video call from Summer.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “398328”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G #Wife #BabyChildren #BillionaireRomance #Divorce

The day I, Violet Locke, had a miscarriage, I unexpectedly received a video call from Andrew Chase from five years ago. In the video, Andrew from five years ago, with a trembling and excited voice, proposed to me, asking if I would marry him. After marrying him, he would skip our anniversary for his first love, Tessa Stevens, during her period. He would leave me, passed out from appendicitis pain, on the highway for Tessa’s minor cold. He even forced me to go bungee jumping to vent for Tessa, causing my miscarriage. So I shook my head, my tone indifferent. “I don’t want to.” ***** “Violet, using menstrual blood to fake a miscarriage? You’re disgusting.” On the other end of the line, Andrew mocked coldly, “I suggest you drop those petty schemes for attention. Tessa is pure-hearted. If you dare pull this again, we’ll get a divorce.” He finished speaking and hung up harshly. I opened my mouth but couldn’t say a word. A sharp pain struck my lower abdomen. I instinctively reached out, but touching my flat stomach, I couldn’t stop the sting in my nose. Three hours ago, there was a living little life here. Because I refused to give the design I worked on for half a month to Tessa for the competition, Andrew ignored my cries and struggles and forced me, who has severe acrophobia, to go bungee jumping just to vent for Tessa. After being rescued by the staff, my lower abdomen started to hurt, and blood had already soaked through my skirt. But Andrew didn’t even glance at me, carrying the fainted Tessa and walking away. He killed my child with his own hands and completely destroyed my love for him. After reviewing the final clause of the divorce agreement, I sent it to the lawyer. Just as I was about to get up, my previously black screen phone lit up again—it was a video call from Andrew. With the intention of discussing divorce matters, I answered the call. A five-years-younger Andrew appeared on the video screen, with a proposal flower wall behind him. His eyes were red, and he choked up as he asked me, “Violet, today marks our 1825th day together. Will you marry me?” Looking at my still-living parents in the video background, I felt a wave of dizziness and almost clenched my teeth in hatred. Andrew deliberately targeted my pain. To provoke me, he actually dug out the recordings from that time. I said coldly, “Andrew, this joke isn’t funny.” Andrew’s face turned pale instantly, and he said lines that weren’t in the recording. “What joke? Violet, didn’t you promise me that if I got the company on track at 25, you’d marry me?” As he spoke, he revealed the white rose-shaped tattoo on his wrist. The sarcasm I was about to say got stuck in my throat. A strange thought popped into my mind. This might really be the 25-year-old Andrew who still loves me. Because in the second year after our marriage, Andrew removed this tattoo and replaced it with a French phrase: “To my one and only in this life, Tessa.” ***** Five years ago, Andrew loved me madly. He was a poor student sponsored by our family, hardworking and ambitious. When he pursued me, he didn’t know I was a rich girl. After meeting each other’s parents, he knelt before my mom and dad, thanking them for letting their daughter marry him and promising to make me the happiest woman after marriage. This proposal was also because, during my studies abroad, I was surrounded by many peers from wealthy families. Andrew was insanely jealous. Right after closing a million-dollar deal at the company, he couldn’t wait to propose to me over video. At that time, I was abroad, crying in front of the camera as I said yes. However, six months later, I graduated and returned home for the wedding. A year later, Tessa appeared as a new designer at the onboarding presentation of Andrew’s subsidiary. Two years later, he argued with me for the 160th time because of her. Three years later, he bought her a villa in the city center. Four years later, Tessa accused me of giving her infertility drugs. Andrew didn’t believe my explanation and, to retaliate, took a multimillion-dollar order from Locke Group. Locke Group went completely bankrupt, and my parents eventually jumped to their deaths. Five years later, Andrew used money to elevate Tessa to become the hottest top designer in the country and personally backed her, accusing my portfolio of being a complete copy of Tessa’s. Since then, I was blacklisted in the design industry. And today, I lost my only child. ***** Andrew’s love is the most delicious poison I’ve ever tasted in my life. Now my soul is already riddled with scars. If I had another chance, I wouldn’t want Andrew anymore. “Don’t stay silent, I’m really scared. Wait for me, I’ll book a flight to find you right now.” 25-year-old Andrew was frantic. I just looked at him and smiled faintly. I said, “Andrew, can you ask me one more time?” Andrew burst into tears of joy. “Violet, today marks our 1825th day together. Will you marry me?” In his expectant gaze, I raised the iPad towards the camera, showing hundreds of intimate photos of him at 30 with Tessa. Then, I shook my head, my tone indifferent. “I don’t want to.” “25-year-old Andrew, I am 30-year-old Violet. You may not want to believe it, but the truth is, I am planning to divorce 30-year-old you.” “Because you didn’t keep the vows you made at our wedding. You let me down for another woman.” Hearing this, the light in 25-year-old Andrew’s eyes gradually faded.

A few seconds later, 25-year-old Andrew tightened his face and shook his head. “I don’t believe it, you’re lying to me.” I let out a soft laugh. If it were the 25-year-old me, I probably wouldn’t believe it either. “You will believe it,” I said calmly. At this moment, 30-year-old Andrew pushed the door open and walked in. He glanced around suspiciously. “Who are you talking to?” I looked away, my tone indifferent. “I’m handing over work to a colleague.” Since Andrew accused me of plagiarizing Tessa’s design, I was fired by the company. He coughed awkwardly and handed over the cake he was holding, his tone softening unconsciously. “This is from Tessa. She said girls feel better during their period if they eat something sweet.” I neither moved nor accepted it. A low murmur came through the earphones, “How could he forget? Sweet food only makes Violet’s period pain worse.” Andrew in front of me had already opened the cake box, revealing a taro mousse cake filled with mango chunks. He shoved the fork into my hand and urged, “Hurry up and eat. Tessa was so worried about you that she didn’t even eat properly today.” I held the fork, expressionless, and spoke at the same time as the voice in the earphones, “I’m allergic to mangoes and hate taro the most.” Andrew froze, looking a bit flustered and angry. He scowled. “Whatever, you’re already a 30-year-old woman and still this picky.” At that moment, Tessa called, and his expression instantly softened with affection. “Be good, wait for me.” After saying that, he turned and left without looking back. An hour later, I saw the photo Tessa posted on Instagram. At the racetrack, she held the championship trophy, sitting in Andrew’s arms, smiling freely. Her caption read: [He said, both he and the championship trophy belong to me.] I gave it a like. A muffled voice came through the headphones. “Violet, why aren’t you angry?” I didn’t answer, picked up the cake on the table, and threw it straight into the trash. But I still had an allergic reaction. Late at night, my whole body started itching. The allergy medicine at home was gone, so I had to take a cab to the hospital, only to run into Andrew. He frowned and asked me, “Why didn’t you reply to my messages?” I unlocked my phone and realized he had sent over a dozen messages after I liked the post, explaining that Tessa only made that post because she lost a game. What a lousy lie. I couldn’t be bothered to expose him, so I casually brushed it off, “I fell asleep and didn’t see it.” He stared at the redness on my cheek, seemingly worried. “Didn’t you skip the cake? How did you get an allergic reaction?” The doctor behind me explained, “Being in the same air as the allergen can also cause a reaction.” Andrew instinctively rubbed his fingers, seeming like he wanted to say something, but then Tessa’s soft call came from the ward behind, “Andrew?” Andrew immediately left me and went inside. I scoffed at myself, grabbed the medicine, and turned to leave. Downstairs, I ran into a heavy rainstorm and couldn’t get a cab. Andrew pulled up beside me in his car. Tessa was sitting in the passenger seat, wearing the jacket I bought for Andrew as his 24th birthday gift. In my earphones came a gritted voice, “He’s a jerk!” I found it noisy and casually turned down the volume. Tessa leaned out, looking surprised. “Violet? Why didn’t you let Andrew drive you to the hospital? I just have a slight cough, and he insisted on coming with me for a checkup.” She pouted playfully and looked at Andrew. “I already told you I’m fine.” Andrew gently pinched her nose. “You’re about to join the international designer competition; you can’t afford to have any health issues.” Then he glanced at me and said curtly, “Stop being dramatic. Get in the car.” It’s late at night and hard to get a cab, so I nodded, opened the car door, and got into the back seat, only to find a pair of black lace panties. “Ah! How did this get here?” Tessa’s face turned red as she grabbed it, then pinched Andrew’s waist hard and whispered, “Didn’t you say you put it away?” She blamed him with her words, but her eyes fixed on me, full of provocation and pride. Andrew seemed flustered for a moment when he saw the panties, then took them and casually tossed them into the glove compartment. Tessa then remembered to explain to me, “Violet, don’t overthink it. I had an urgent interview tonight and was in such a rush changing that I accidentally left it behind.” I nodded calmly. “Mm, I understand.” Andrew didn’t expect me to accept such a flawed excuse so calmly. With my usual temper, I would have already had a big fight with him. He carefully added, “Tessa did have an interview today.” “No need to explain. I understand,” I interrupted, signaling him to relax. Andrew got angry. After dropping me off downstairs, he drove away with Tessa at full speed. On my way upstairs, the silent headphones suddenly spoke again, “I’ve never liked Tessa, so why does that jerk treat her like a treasure?” I chuckled, “Because you said Tessa is clean and pure, unlike me and my parents, full of rich people’s arrogance.” In the headphones, 25-year-old Andrew stayed silent for a long time before finally cursing fiercely, “That’s all bullshit.” If my parents were greedy merchants, Andrew wouldn’t have been able to marry me in the first place. It’s all just an excuse he made for his betrayal. “So, give up proposing to me,” I said softly. “Are you wondering why 30-year-old Andrew dares to bully me like this? Because Locke Group went bankrupt, and my parents were driven to death by him.” I slowly unfolded the abortion surgery form and continued, “I’m not on my period today; I had a miscarriage because he forced me to go bungee jumping.”

Andrew went offline in the headset, like a deserter. I thought everything would end there, but to my surprise, I woke up the next day to find myself trending. The trending topic was “Andrew will always only love Violet.” All my friends came to congratulate me, saying Andrew had finally changed his mind and I could be at ease. But my heart sank to the bottom. Because 25-year-old Andrew came online. He laughed smugly through the headphones, “Honey, did you see the trending topic I booked?” “You think this can change everything?” I responded coldly, “You’ll see the consequences soon.” Within ten minutes, that trending topic was forcibly removed. Replacing it was a brand-new entry, “Andrew and Tessa are true love.” Meanwhile, my phone was almost blown up by Andrew’s calls. It wasn’t until I held the divorce papers and arrived downstairs at his company that I finally pressed the answer button. On the other end of the line, he started yelling furiously, “Violet! Don’t you think playing these tricks is disgusting? You know Tessa is in the prime of her career, yet you smear her? How could there be such a filthy, shameless woman like you! Let me tell you, if you keep this nonsense up, let’s just get a divorce!” This is the sentence I was waiting for. Afraid he might change his mind, I quickly said, “Alright, I’m downstairs at your company. Let’s get a divorce.” ***** I waited for him in the café downstairs. What I got instead was his sudden, furious outburst. “Violet, you’re truly despicable!” He stormed in, in front of all the customers, and kicked me hard in the stomach. As I was in so much pain I nearly passed out, he grabbed my hair and yanked me up. He played Tessa’s newly sent voice message right by my ear. “Andrew, Max was stolen by Violet. There’s so much blood and dog fur on the ground. I’m so scared. Max was a keepsake from my grandma. I’m willing to apologize to Violet. Please, I beg you, ask her to return Max to me, okay?” A metallic taste filled my throat as I weakly explained, “I didn’t steal her dog.” What I got in return was an even angrier slap from Andrew. He pointed at me and roared, “Tessa is so kind, would she lie? You’ve done everything to bully and hurt her, and now you’re pretending to want a divorce from me? A gold-digger like you, would you really leave me?” My cheek swelled up badly from the slap. A guest wanted to step in and stop him, but Andrew picked up a cup of scalding coffee and poured it over my head. As I screamed in pain, he told the others, “She’s a mistress, not only seducing me but also stealing my lover’s dog.” His confident tone drew the sympathy of others in the café. “So she’s a shameless mistress. Serves her right!” “Slut! Beat her to death! Better strip her clothes off and throw her out!” ***** In the headphones, Andrew went crazy, shouting shakily, “Impossible, it shouldn’t be like this. Violet, run!” I turned in pain, trying to escape, but was firmly pinned down by the bodyguards he brought. He said, “You’re not leaving until you tell me where Tessa’s dog is.” After he finished speaking, I was roughly shoved into the car by the bodyguards. The vehicle eventually stopped at the cemetery. Andrew grabbed my hair, forcing me to kneel on the ground. Not far away, an excavator was parked beside my parents’ tombstone. My eyes were red. “I didn’t steal the dog!” Tessa appeared in a white dress, tears in her eyes. Her eyes gleamed with excitement, but she pretended to look pitiful. “Violet, please tell me where Max is, okay?” She cried so hard she almost fainted in Andrew’s arms, but the corners of her mouth curved in triumph. She knew I couldn’t possibly give an answer. Andrew’s eyes darkened as he snarled, “This is the price for hurting Tessa. Start digging!” “No!” I struggled desperately, screaming at Andrew, “I really don’t know where her dog went, it wasn’t me.” “Still not talking?” Andrew’s face turned completely dark as he stared at my hands, saying word by word, “Since it was these filthy hands of yours, then let’s ruin them.” A chill instantly ran through my entire body. If my hands are ruined, I’ll never be able to hold a paintbrush again. My hands were pinned by the security guards as Andrew raised the knife at me with a vicious expression. In the headphones, 25-year-old Andrew completely broke down. “Violet, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have proposed to you.” As soon as he finished speaking, everything around instantly changed dramatically. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the Locke Manor.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “398327”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G #Wife #regret #Baby #LoveHate

My name is Isabel Rogers. My best friend Freya Gordon yelled at a pregnant woman in the front row on the train for snoring, shouting, “You sleep like a pig. Even your husband would find you disgusting!” “I am Isabel Rogers, a student at New York University. You’ll never get in your whole life!” In my previous life, when I went home during the holidays, I ran into Freya. She said she wanted to see the view outside and swapped seats with me. The pregnant woman in front of her was snoring loudly, so she used my identity to deliberately humiliate her, which led to an argument and caused her to miscarry accidentally. Freya sneered on the side, “It’s better that your child is gone, saves them from suffering with someone as poor as you!” Later, the pregnant woman’s husband came to the school to confront me. “You’re the bitch who caused my wife to miscarry. I’ll kill you!” In the end, he killed me with a knife. Only then did I realize that Freya had impersonated me and planned all this to take my spot for a fully funded study abroad opportunity. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Freya wanted to switch seats with me. Before being killed, I saw Freya looking at me with pity and saying, “Isabel, your death is worth it. After all, with you gone, I can get your fully funded study abroad spot. In your next life, don’t be this stupid again.” I watched myself bleed to death. I never thought that my best friend of over twenty years would frame me, all for a chance to study abroad. When I opened my eyes again, I was surprised to find myself back on the day Freya wanted to switch seats with me. I glanced at my watch; in half an hour, that pregnant woman would have a miscarriage. “Isabel, I want to see the view outside. It doesn’t matter where you sit. How about we switch?” Freya walked over, smiling at me. In my previous life, I really didn’t care where I sat, so I agreed to switch seats with her. I sat in her seat and started sleeping. To sleep well, I even took two melatonin pills and didn’t wake up until the final stop. But I never expected her to argue with the pregnant woman in my name. “You sleep like a pig. Even your husband would feel disgusted seeing you!” “I am Isabel Rogers, a student at New York University. You could never get in your whole life!” Freya complained about the loud snoring of the pregnant woman in front, Melody Reeds, and kept provoking her with words. Melody woke up, looking exhausted and annoyed, and snapped back, “Who are you to boss me around? I’m not snoring on purpose. Do you really have to be so petty?” Freya let out a cold laugh and raised her voice. “This is a public place! Please be mindful and give your baby some proper prenatal education, so they don’t end up as uncivilized as you.” “Besides, I am Isabel Rogers, a student at New York University. If you disrupt my rest and affect my studies, can you afford to compensate me?” Freya repeated my name again, deliberately emphasizing it to leave a stronger impression on Melody. Melody, already in a bad mood due to her pregnancy, was infuriated by Freya. She stood up and pointed at Freya, yelling, “So what if you got into a good university? Does that give you the right to bully people?” “Isabel, right? I’ll remember you! I’ll make you pay for this!” But Freya became even more outrageous, kicking Melody directly in the stomach. Seeing Melody bleeding, Freya calmly took out two bills from her bag, threw them on the ground, and sneered, “It’s better if this child dies, saves them from suffering with someone as poor as you.” After saying that, she picked up her luggage and got off the train early. After Melody’s miscarriage, she was heartbroken and had her husband come to my school to confront me. Completely unaware, I was stabbed several times by him on the spot and bled to death. In the end, Freya used my public-funded study abroad spot and successfully changed her fate. Since I am fortunate to be reborn, I will never let her manipulate me like before.

I gave her a deep look. “No, Freya, my eyes feel strained from reading. I just want to look outside to ease the fatigue.” After speaking, I even rubbed my temples. Freya wanted to say something, but seeing me close my eyes and lean back in the chair, she finally sighed and returned to her seat. Seeing her sit down, I let out a long sigh of relief. This time I didn’t switch seats with her. She won’t cause any more trouble, right? I kept my eyes fixed on Melody in front. All the way to the final stop, Melody only got up twice to use the restroom, and nothing unusual happened. I glanced with satisfaction at the paper I had been writing all the way, then saved it. It seems this time I finally changed my fate. After arriving at the station, I got up, grabbed my luggage, and stepped off the train. After a wonderful holiday at home, I pulled my suitcase and got ready to return to school. Freya cheerfully followed me back to school again. Unlike the previous life, this time she had a different hairstyle. I suddenly had a bad feeling. I couldn’t help but ask, “Freya, why did you cut your hair?” She shrugged. “I like it. The static in winter is too much, so I cut it for a fresher look.” As soon as the words fell, a furious roar suddenly came from the school gate, “Who is Isabel? Get out here!” The husband of the pregnant woman on the train, Peter Reeds, was shouting curses at the school gate, his fierce gaze scanning the girls passing by. “Why are you looking for Isabel? We just started school, she hasn’t returned yet.” A few bold classmates came out to watch. Peter shouted with red-rimmed eyes, “She deliberately provoked my wife! Caused her to miscarry! I want her life in return!” “That was our IVF baby! We were always so careful when traveling, but then we ran into that bitch on the train!” “She hit my wife! My wife held back and didn’t fight back, but when we got to the final stop, we found she was bleeding heavily!” As he spoke, he suddenly sat on the ground, wiping his tears in sorrow. “Isabel is the goddess of our school, how could she do such a thing?” Some classmates around looked at Peter in disbelief. Freya said, “Isabel, look at all those people over there. Let’s go check it out too.” I was about to leave, but she firmly dragged me toward Peter. Her voice was so loud that it instantly grabbed everyone’s attention. Peter spotted us in the crowd at once, and my heart sank suddenly. He was coming straight for me. But this time, I didn’t switch seats with Freya. Why did he still come looking for me? “Are you Isabel?” Peter glared at Freya aggressively. “No, not me! She’s Isabel!” Freya quickly waved her hands in fear and pushed me in front of Peter. Peter looked me up and down, then slowly reached into his pocket. I knew he had a sharp knife in his pocket. In my previous life, I died by his knife.

So, I lunged forward and firmly grabbed his hand. I said, “I am Isabel! You claim I caused your wife to miscarry, but shouldn’t you provide some evidence?” “As long as you can provide evidence, I’ll go to the police station and turn myself in immediately!” Saying that, I glanced at him. He sneered, “Evidence? You think I came unprepared?” Saying that, Peter took out his phone and played a video. His wife Melody was video calling Peter while she ran to the bathroom to vomit due to morning sickness. Suddenly, a burst of cursing came from outside, “Are you stalling because the baby died in your belly?” When she opened the door, the people outside started yelling at Melody for staying in the bathroom too long and delaying others. Peter got furious upon hearing that and immediately started screen recording, asking Melody to point the phone camera at the woman yelling at her. I glanced at the beginning and pointed at Freya, saying, “The person in this video isn’t me, it’s Freya!” “My hair is short, she’s the one with long hair.” Freya said, “Isabel, you did something wrong, and now you want me to take the blame?” She quickly pulled off her hat, her neat short hair fluttering in the wind. Peter said, “I don’t think you’re a good person, trying to frame others. Think carefully about all the awful things she’s done before!” He glanced at Freya’s hair, then at me, and continued playing the video. But the woman in the video was wrapped tightly, her face almost indistinguishable, and her voice was faint and unclear, only barely recognizable as a long-haired woman. “Who do you think you are? How dare you curse my child?” Melody’s hand froze on her belly as she pointed at Freya, trembling with anger. “I’m a student at New York University, Isabel Rogers! You should feel lucky to even talk to me.” Freya smugly shoved her hands into her pockets, her gaze full of provocation. Melody noted the name, stopped arguing with her, and turned to head to her seat. Freya, seeing Melody ignore her, angrily slapped her directly. A deep bloody mark appeared on Melody’s face. Melody was about to fight back when Freya kicked her in the stomach, causing cold sweat to break out on her forehead from the pain. “You still dare to say it wasn’t you? Same hairstyle, same glasses!” Peter stared intently at the screen, then looked at me, his eyes bloodshot. Freya shot me a disdainful glance. “Isabel, you’re usually selfish and mean, complaining to me at home about the pregnant woman in front being annoying and snoring too loudly. I never thought you’d actually beat her to the point of miscarriage!” “Stop being stubborn! Pay what you owe and apologize!” Freya gave me a disgusted look. Peter said, “I don’t want money, I want your life!” His eyes were bloodshot as he pulled a knife from his pocket and lunged at me. I recalled the video on my phone and raised Freya’s hand high. I quickly said, “It wasn’t me who caused your wife to miscarry, it was her! I have evidence! The person in the video wore a ring when they slashed your wife’s face.” “Freya is wearing the exact same ring as in the video, and I never wear any jewelry!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “398326”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #BestFriends #Contemporary #Journey #ruthless #Revenge

I have a good friend, Elena Cooper, who insists on being against marriage. However, when she accompanied me to undergo IVF, she snatched the sperm I had chosen. Seeing this, I knew she had been reborn too. In my past life, I wanted to have a mixed-race baby, so I went for IVF. At that time, Elena mocked me, saying I was raising a child for a foreigner and called me an idiot. But half a month later, I was taken abroad. It turned out the sperm I chose belonged to Andrew Miller, a foreign prince with eight nationalities mixed. Andrew not only wanted to marry me but also promised our child would inherit the royal family. Later, my child and I were highly valued by the royal family, and the jewelry I wore was so much it almost bent my waist. Meanwhile, Elena, due to excessively promoting feminism, angered her partners, got fired by the company, and was blacklisted in the entire industry. When we were hosting a first birthday party for my son, Elena spent all her savings on a ticket to come find me. But when I went to greet her, she actually dropped my son to his death and splashed concentrated sulfuric acid on me. She cursed, “Why are you so lucky? You don’t deserve it, you bitch!” When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I asked Elena to accompany me for IVF. ***** Elena said, “I really want to have a mixed-race baby, so I want this mixed-race sperm.” She always claimed to be against marriage and said having kids was a waste of life. But now, she pushed me away, not letting me get close to the iPad displaying the sperm information. Seeing Elena’s excited expression, I knew she had been reborn too. Seeing me staring at the iPad in her hand without speaking, Elena rolled her eyes impatiently. She said, “It’s just a mixed-race sperm. There are other sperm here too. As a good friend, why are you so petty?” “You don’t even know the information about this sperm donor. I’m helping you eliminate risks.” If Elena could control her smile, her words might be a bit more believable. But her eyes were full of excitement, unable to hide her smile. I shook my head, then suddenly, as if I had figured it out, said, “Elena, I think you’re right. Having kids is a waste of life. So, I’m not planning to have any.” Hearing my words, Elena looked at me in confusion. “Really? But didn’t you insist on having a child before because you knew who the owner of this sperm was?” Elena thought I wanted to have a child because I knew the identity of the sperm donor, but she didn’t know I was just trying to complete the task my mom assigned me. I had no idea that sperm belonged to Andrew. As if discovering a secret, Elena’s eyes widened, and her cheeks turned red with excitement. Hearing me say I wouldn’t proceed with the IVF, the staff looked a bit shocked. She reminded me, “Ms. Sanchez, you already paid a $30,000 deposit when booking your slot. If you want to book again, it’ll cost $100,000. Are you sure you don’t want to go through with it?” I quickly shook my head and firmly said, “I’m sure.” Hearing me say that, Elena immediately told the staff to bring the contract quickly. As for the part about explaining IVF precautions and risk notifications, she skipped it entirely. Elena said, “I’m just having a child. I have a feeling the father of my child will be someone important. As long as I give birth to him, I’ll have endless wealth for a lifetime.” I couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. Of course, I knew why she was so confident. That’s because in my previous life, after choosing this sperm, Andrew found me half a month later and took me back to his country for a grand wedding, while her life kept getting worse. Elena attributed the difference between her and my experiences to a matter of opportunity. So in this life, the first thing she did was snatch the sperm I was going to choose and become a princess. Soon, Elena signed the contract. As soon as she walked out of the lab, she sent her resignation to the company. I looked at her in surprise. Elena, however, sneered and said, “I have a feeling that it won’t be long before I reach the peak of my life.” “You don’t plan to have kids and only have a low-paying job, so just wait to be someone who works hard their whole life.” After saying that, she turned and left without hesitation, then took a cab to a luxury mall. Watching Elena’s smug back, I couldn’t help but laugh. In my heart, I said, “Elena, do you want to be a princess? Then I wish you well. When you learn the truth, I hope you can still laugh like you did today.”

After Elena resigned, all her work was assigned to me by our boss. While I was busy, my colleagues suddenly exclaimed. A girl said, “Elena, you’re so different today.” I looked up and saw Elena walking into the office with designer bags in both hands. She proudly raised her head, touched her belly, and said, “This is nothing. My son is about to inherit a country.” Everyone immediately thought Elena had gone crazy. After all, previously in the company, no matter who was dating or getting married, Elena would always mock them. She thought those people were crazy and said having kids was not as worthwhile as investing in oneself. But in just a few days, Elena suddenly announced she was pregnant. However, when colleagues heard that Elena had already sold her house, they kindly advised her. A woman said, “How could someone with status donate sperm? Elena, don’t be fooled.” Elena immediately rolled her eyes. She said, “Do you think I’m as dumb as Athena? How could I possibly not know who the father is and still go for IVF?” “If I had her brains, I would have been ashamed enough to kill myself.” Then, Elena took a stack of invitations out of her bag and tossed them onto my desk. She said, “In five days, my husband will come to pick me up. Come to this location, and I’ll show you the world.” After saying that, she turned and left with an arrogant expression. Everyone was already busy with work, and her commotion made them all very upset. A female colleague said, “Athena, isn’t Elena your good friend? Has she gone crazy? How could she imagine a wealthy husband?” “Besides, how much money could someone who donates sperm have? Where does her strong sense of superiority come from?” Another female colleague chimed in, “She even sold her house and bought a bunch of luxury clothes and bags. How will she raise her child later? When I was preparing for pregnancy before, she even scolded me.” Elena’s behavior annoyed everyone, and they all urged me to cut ties with someone so irrational. But not long after, Elena shared a high-end hotel’s location in the company group chat. She also sent a message: [This Saturday, my husband will host a banquet here. Make sure to come. This is one of your rare chances to experience high society.] Everyone didn’t expect that Elena had truly become distinguished and was living a superior life. That high-end hotel is famously expensive in the entire city. Even a bottle of mineral water there can sell for thousands of dollars. Elena’s Instagram is full of photos showing off her wealth, and she even tagged me in every single one. In the photos, she’s wearing custom-made luxury jewelry, smiling smugly. A trace of gloom flashed in my eyes, and I let out a cold snort. I said to myself, “Go ahead and laugh. It won’t be long before you can’t.” That Saturday, my coworkers dragged me to the hotel. A female colleague said, “I don’t believe Elena could be so lucky to pick a billionaire’s sperm. She was so arrogant slandering you before. We have to go and see.” As soon as we arrived at the hotel entrance, we saw a photo of Elena with a foreign man. When she saw me, Elena smugly clung to the man’s arm and walked toward me. She said, “Isn’t this my broke little friend? I thought you wouldn’t come.” “After all, you don’t have my eye for spotting wealth, so you couldn’t pick the right sperm for IVF. You must be really jealous of me, right?” Elena’s eyes are indeed “sharp,” so sharp that she didn’t even notice the man beside her had no love in his gaze for her. So, I smiled faintly and said, “No, I’m really happy for you.”

Elena formally introduced her husband to us, the foreign prince Andrew. She said, “My husband said as soon as my child is born, he’ll make him the heir. You still have time to win my favor.” “Otherwise, with just one word from me, your company will go bankrupt. Athena, by then, you’ll be out of a job too.” Everyone could clearly sense that something was wrong. However, Elena was still immersed in her dream. Colleague Sophie Hall pulled me aside while Elena was showing off to the other colleagues. She said, “What prince would donate sperm? Besides, their hierarchy is so strict, how could they let a prince marry a foreign woman and have their child inherit the throne?” However, Andrew was indeed very generous to Elena. Elena just threw a tantrum, feeling that her jewelry was too light. In just half an hour, a haute couture designer personally arrived on-site to design and create jewelry for her. Seeing everyone’s envious looks, Elena became even more smug. In my past life, Andrew treated me the same way. I just had a little morning sickness, but he got so nervous and called the world’s top doctors with a single phone call. But, like Sophie, I was very confused inside. Andrew and I had never met before. How could he treat me so well just because I was carrying his child? Even the entire royal family treated me like a treasure? I’m just an ordinary person. Besides carrying Andrew’s child, there’s nothing about me that deserves their special attention. So, I kept paying attention secretly and finally discovered that secret. Unfortunately, Elena is now lost in the sweet trap of sudden wealth and has no mind to think further. A kind colleague advised her to be careful, but she scolded that colleague. She said, “You’re just jealous of me. I’m beautiful, independent, and smart. What’s wrong with my husband falling in love with me at first sight?” Andrew also made a heartfelt confession to Elena in front of all of us in broken English. He gently stroked Elena’s belly, but his eyes revealed a hint of madness that only I noticed. Seeing me staring at Andrew, Elena got angry instantly. She rushed over, pushed me down, and angrily threw her shoe at my face, hitting my forehead. Elena scolded, “Athena, how shameless can you be? Why are you staring at my husband?” Just as she was about to keep hitting me, Andrew sternly restrained her. He said, “You’re pregnant, you can’t mess around. If the baby is gone, I’ll kill you.” Everyone could see that, in Andrew’s eyes, the baby was clearly more important than Elena. But Elena truly has something wrong with her mind. She said, “See how much my husband loves me. He even said he’d kill me if we lost our child. He values our fruit of love so much.” When she mentioned “fruit of love,” Andrew’s eyes clearly revealed strong disgust. While Elena was being held by Andrew, my colleagues quickly helped me up. They originally wanted to scold Elena, but since she really seemed to be becoming a princess, they didn’t dare. In the end, I waved my hand and said, “Let’s not bother with her.” I silently added in my heart, “Because nine months later, she will live in great pain.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “398325”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #King #BestFriends #royal #Rebirth #Baby

I, Rebecca Greene, let my sister Emily Greene go to my haute couture dress shop to pick a wedding dress. Before leaving, she was stopped by the intern Stella Fuller, who demanded three million dollars for the dress. Helpless, she had to mention my name. “I’m the boss’s younger sister, I don’t need to pay for the dress.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Our boss doesn’t even have a sister!” “Looks like you can’t afford it, huh?” With that, she directly blocked Emily, looking impatient. “I’ll give you one last chance: either pay up immediately, or I’ll tear your dress right now and make you walk out naked!” Emily was stunned and hurriedly called me. When I rushed to the store in a panic, I heard Mila Brown, the store manager who had worked with me for years, respectfully standing behind Stella and warning Emily, “I suggest you be smart. The woman in front of you is our boss’s wife!” “Cross her, and you won’t end well!” Before the words finished, Stella stepped on Emily’s face and looked down, saying, “You actually dared to impersonate me? You’ve got some nerve!” My hand froze on the doorknob. Then, I immediately cut off the access to my husband Vincent Simpson’s supplementary card and dialed his number. I angrily said, “Have I been too good to you? Or have I given you too much money, letting you afford to keep a woman outside?” ***** When I received Emily’s call, I was about to drive back to the dress shop. I asked in confusion, “What did you say? That new intern Stella Fuller claimed she’s the wife of the shop owner?” I smiled and shook my head. “Didn’t you tell her you’re my sister?” The next second, a crisp slap sound came through the phone, followed by Emily’s scream. I realized something was wrong and immediately shouted her name into the phone. But what responded to me was Stella’s ranting. “This shop belongs to my husband!” “Wouldn’t I know if my husband had a sister?” Mila’s voice followed closely, laced with a mocking tone. “Let me tell you the truth.” “Today, you’ve messed with the wrong person.” “This shop belongs to Mr. Simpson, and the woman in front of you is his wife!” “If you want to skip the bill, at least come up with a decent excuse!” Their arrogant conversation made me feel a bit uneasy. On our wedding anniversary a week ago, Vincent, who never gets involved in my dress shop business, suddenly begged me for a favor. He said, “A neighbor’s daughter from my hometown just graduated from college and can’t find a job. “Her mom reached out to me the other day asking for help. Remembering our old ties, I agreed right away. “Honey, can she work at your shop?” As if afraid I might refuse, he hurriedly raised four fingers and swore to me. He said, “I promise, this girl is really smart and hardworking. “You’ll definitely be satisfied!” I didn’t think much and agreed. I sent Stella’s information to my most trusted Mila. At that moment, Emily’s call was suddenly cut off, and the last thing I heard was Stella’s angry yelling. Thinking of this, I quickly asked the driver to drive while pulling up the store’s surveillance footage. The image gradually became clear. At this moment, Emily was being violently pinned to the ground by Stella, slapped one after another. Emily hit while saying, “You wore clothes from our store without paying, this is theft!” “Women like you who only know how to steal deserve a beating!” Emily struggled desperately but still couldn’t resist Stella’s brute force. What made me even angrier was that Mila, who had been with me for three years, had now become Stella’s accomplice. She crouched beside Emily, flipping through the ledger nonstop. She said, “I just roughly calculated the accounts from the past three months. “This b*tch took over a dozen dresses from our store, worth a total of millions of dollars.” Hearing this, Stella’s anger instantly exploded. She grabbed Emily by the neck. “You say you’re my husband’s sister? “What sister? “What’s your relationship? Before I came to the store, how much more did you take from here?” The scene made me tremble with anger. Seeing Emily’s swollen cheeks, my heart ached, and I could barely breathe. At the same time, I called Vincent. I want to ask him why the so-called sensible sister he mentioned has now turned into a shrew and even dares to impersonate me. The call was quickly answered. Vincent’s tone was cheerful. “Honey, shouldn’t you be working on your design sketches at this time?” “How do you have time to call me?” “Miss me?” I took a deep breath and said coldly, “Vincent, tell me, what exactly is your relationship with Stella?” “Why is she claiming to be your wife?” The other side suddenly went silent, so quiet that I could only hear his heavy breathing and the sound of static. This silence completely ignited my anger. I spoke bluntly, “Vincent, answer me!” “Have I been too lenient with you? Giving you the time and money to keep another woman outside?” Vincent chuckled lightly. “Rebecca, after all these years of marriage, do you still not trust me?” “Alright, I don’t have time to joke with you now. I have a meeting to attend.” After saying that, he hung up the phone. When I called back, it was already unreachable.

At this moment, anger consumed all my reason. Without any hesitation, I immediately dialed the secretary’s number. “Cancel Vincent’s vice president position and have him pack up and leave immediately.” “And also, freeze his secondary card access immediately.” I’ve always loved designing dresses, but I can’t manage both the company and the dress shop at the same time. Thankfully, with Vincent’s help, I had the energy to focus on what I love. To thank him, I promoted him to vice president of the company despite opposition from other managers. I even gave him a supplementary credit card under my name, letting him use it freely. The beautiful memories of the past make me wonder if my actions just now were too impulsive. “Ms. Greene, we’ve arrived,” the driver’s voice pulled me back from my thoughts. I quickly pushed open the car door and rushed into the store. The few people inside were all stunned. Stella glared at me impatiently. “Who gave you permission to barge in like this?” “Don’t you even know how to knock?” I ignored her and walked straight toward Emily, who was curled up on the ground. She suddenly grabbed my hand, tears streaming down. “Rebecca, you’re finally here!” “What on earth is going on? Who exactly is Stella?” Her voice was weak, but Stella still heard it. She looked at me with more fierceness in her eyes. “You’re this bitch’s sister?” Mila was even more surprised. “Ms. Greene, I didn’t expect her to be your sister.” As she spoke, there was a hint of disdain. “I know you have talent in design, but you can’t just bring your family to take clothes from our store for free, can you?” I let out a cold snort, pretended to help Emily up, pointed at her injuries, and spoke coldly, “Did you do this?” Mila’s expression flickered, she swallowed and forced herself to stay calm, saying, “You should be glad I didn’t call the police to arrest her!” “Do you know how many haute couture dresses she stole from the store under your name?” “And she even dared to claim she’s Mr. Simpson’s sister!” At this point, she openly spat on the ground beside Emily. She cursed, “You’re shameless!” “Know your place, how dare you lie in front of the real Mrs. Simpson!” After being flattered like this, Stella’s expression grew even more arrogant. She first gave me a disdainful once-over, then fixed her gaze straight on my handbag. She demanded sharply, “Where did you get this bag?” I followed her gaze downward. “Do I need to explain to you?” “And also, who told you this store belongs to Vincent?” This dress shop was founded after I earned my first paycheck. I poured my heart and soul into this place. Suddenly, I realized the problem. “Is it because Vincent is the legal owner of this shop that you think it belongs to him?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “If that’s the case, then I need to clarify something. “This shop is…” “Answer me!” Stella suddenly interrupted me, “Where did this bag come from?” Her whole face turned red with anger. “Speak up! “Rebecca! Answer me!” Facing her questioning, I stood up straight. “This bag was a gift from my husband.” Stella angrily said, “You’re lying!” As she spoke, she grabbed my hair. “This bag is stolen by you!” “You thief!” “No wonder your sister dared to steal from my store! Turns out your whole family are thieves!” “Today, I’ll beat you two bitches to death!”

I worried about Emily getting hurt again, so I didn’t fight back fiercely, letting the nails scrape my cheek, leaving a few burning scratches. Seeing me injured, Emily ignored her own pain and fought back directly. I also seized the opportunity and slapped Stella hard a few times. Stella couldn’t take on the two of us. So she desperately shouted at Mila, “Are you blind?” “Didn’t you see them ganging up to bully me?” “Hurry up and help me!” Mila’s expression froze when her name was suddenly called, especially when she met my sharp gaze, her movements visibly hesitated. I said coldly, “Mila, you idiot!” “Did you forget who gave you Stella’s information?” “And also, since you started working here, have you seen any other leaders besides me?” Hearing this, Mila instantly became nervous. After hearing my words, Stella gradually stopped her actions. She gasped and said, “Stop talking nonsense!” “This store belongs to my husband, Vincent.” “If it weren’t for this, I wouldn’t have worked in a place like this!” But Mila said tremblingly, “However, back then, your information was given to me by Rebecca.” Since I started this dress shop, many people have rushed to apply because of the good benefits, including daughters of several business partners. But I turned them all down as unsuitable. The reason is simple, none of them submitted the required documents to me. So when Vincent sent Stella’s information, I agreed right away. The atmosphere in the shop suddenly became tense because of Mila’s words. She stepped back helplessly, with a hint of fear in her eyes. Meanwhile, Stella widened her eyes, breathing heavily. “What did you say?” “I understand!” She paused, suddenly let out a cold laugh, and shoved me hard into the clothing rack behind me while I was distracted. She stepped closer to me. “Speak! Are you seducing my husband behind my back?” “You bitch! So you’re the mistress!” Mila seemed to have an epiphany and blurted out, “So that’s it!” Stella snatched my bag and slammed it hard on the ground, but she still wasn’t satisfied. She even stepped on the bag. “This bag was supposed to be my birthday gift from Vincent!” “How did it end up being yours?” “You must have seduced him to make him give the gift to you!” “A homewrecker and a thief, you two really are sisters!” With Mila’s interference, I still had to protect Emily behind me, making it even harder to act. But Stella seemed to have caught on to this, constantly pulling my hair. I could even hear the sound of my scalp tearing. Suddenly, the door was flung open. A steady and authoritative voice rang out, “Stop it, all of you!” “Where is the caller Rebecca?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “398324”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G #regret #Divorce #Contemporary #MillionaireMillionairess

I was born with a shadow. It wasn’t mine; it belonged to my twin sister, who died shortly after birth. To appease it, my parents forced me from a young age to wear dresses I hated and speak in a soft, delicate voice. To make it happy, the night before my most important piano competition, they locked my door and made me listen to terrifying stories in the dark all night. To fulfill its wishes, on my eighteenth birthday, they destroyed all my college acceptance letters and sent me to a strict boarding dance academy. Until I married my psychologist, Dr. Alistair Vance. He gently told me I would get better. That day, he held my latest brain scan, the love in his eyes almost melting me. He softly caressed the large shadow on the film and smiled at me. “Sweetie, your brain is nourishing it beautifully. It will soon fully occupy this body.” “Then, you can peacefully join your sister.” Dr. Alistair Vance’s voice was soft, but every word felt like a poison-tipped needle, piercing deep into my heart. Those eyes, which I once adored, were now filled with a sickening expectation. My stomach churned violently. “You’re joking, right?” I finally managed to squeeze out a question, needing to confirm it again. Alistair didn’t answer directly. Instead, he carefully tucked the CT scan back into the manila envelope. Then, he walked over to me, crouched down, and looked me directly in the eye. “This is not a joke.” “This is our shared anticipation, your parents’ wish for over twenty years, and a testament to my love.” An icy dread shot up from my feet to the crown of my head. Alistair reached out, intending to touch my cheek. I flinched back sharply, avoiding his touch. His hand froze mid-air, the smile vanishing from his face. “Sweetie, don’t be scared.” “This process won’t be painful at all. Afterward, you’ll go to a place without pain, to be reunited with your sister.” He spoke so casually, so matter-of-factly, as if he were discussing something trivial that happened every day. All his years of meticulous care for me. It was all a lie. “No…” My legs felt like jelly, numb and weak. But I couldn’t show it now. Because here, in front of him, I was no match. I lowered my head, feigning submission. “I… I’m just a little scared.” Hearing the slight softening in my tone, Alistair’s voice immediately turned gentle. He sat beside me and pulled me into his arms. “Don’t be afraid, I’m here with you.” He picked up a glass of warm milk from the bedside table and held it to my lips. “It’s getting late. Drink some milk and get some rest.” Looking at the white liquid near his lips, I felt a wave of nausea. But I could only obey. “Okay.” A sickeningly sweet, cloying warmth slid down my throat, and Alistair smiled, satisfied. He took the empty glass from my hand and left a goodnight kiss on my forehead. “Alright, go to sleep now.” “Goodnight.” The moment he left, I bolted straight to the bathroom, knelt before the toilet, and forced myself to throw up. Only when my stomach was completely empty did I collapse, exhausted, onto the cold tile floor. I looked at myself in the mirror, pale-faced, hair disheveled. Suddenly, a chilling thought crept into my mind. I had lost. I had been utterly defeated from the moment I was born. But I absolutely refused to accept this fate.

The next day, when I woke up, Alistair had already made breakfast. Everything seemed normal. If it hadn’t been for yesterday’s revelation, I almost would have believed it was just a nightmare. “Come eat.” I suppressed the urge to run, sitting down stiffly. “This afternoon, we’re going to your parents’ house. They said they miss you.” My heart sank. But… “Okay.” I softly agreed, trying to keep my voice sounding normal. Alistair’s face lit up with a delighted expression. “Wonderful, they’ll be so happy to hear the news.” I looked up, feigning confusion, and asked Alistair, “What news?” “Why, that your condition has had a breakthrough, of course.” “They’ve invested so much; it’s time they saw a return.” His words instantly took me back to the past. I suddenly remembered my days at the dance academy. Waking up before dawn every day, being forcibly bent by the instructors, crying myself to sleep every night. Tears and sweat—that was my entire three years of memory. I had questioned them countless times, asking why they treated me that way. They simply replied with the vague phrase, “It’s all for your own good.” Now I understood. They simply wanted to train a body worthy of their precious daughter. I took a deep breath, suppressing the hatred that surged in my heart. “After breakfast, I want to go for a walk. I’ve been feeling a bit cooped up lately.” “Great! I’ll come with you.” I quickly waved my hand, refusing Alistair. “I want to be alone, just in the apartment complex garden.” Alistair looked at me, saying nothing. I lowered my head, not daring to meet his gaze, my heart pounding. Finally, he spoke. “Alright, but come back soon. We’re leaving at noon.” A tight knot in my chest loosened a little. After breakfast, I changed and prepared to leave. As I reached the entryway, I instinctively reached for my phone and keys. “Looking for these?” Alistair’s voice came from behind me. I turned, meeting his gaze as he held my phone. “I charged it for you last night after you fell asleep.” I took the phone he handed me; the screen was still on. For some reason, I felt a subtle unease. “Where are my keys?” “I put them away.” He said to me casually, “Our home has smart locks, so you don’t need keys.” “But…” Before I could finish, Alistair cut me off. “Enough!” His voice held a hint of impatience. “Go on, don’t keep me waiting too long.” With that, he turned and walked to the living room, picking up a psychology textbook. I tentatively pressed the handle of the fingerprint lock. “Password incorrect.” Alistair had changed the password and deleted my fingerprint. He was now engrossed in his book, seemingly oblivious to my movements. I walked over to him, forcing a smile. “Alistair, the password’s wrong.” He looked up, a contrite expression on his face. “I’m sorry, Sweetie, I changed the password yesterday and forgot to tell you.” As he spoke, he took out his phone and tapped a few times. “There, try again.” With a mix of hope and skepticism, I typed in my original birthday password. “Verification successful.” The door opened. Standing in the doorway, I couldn’t take a single step. I could feel Alistair’s gaze burning into my back. He was just using this method to tell me. He could lock me in, or let me out, whenever he pleased. Everything was under his control. “Why aren’t you going?” I turned around; he had put down his book and was watching me. “I suddenly… don’t want to go out.” I closed the door and watched him walk closer, step by step. “Then stay home with me.” Alistair opened his arms. I hesitated for a moment, then submissively leaned into his embrace. My plan had failed. What was I going to do? Soon, he would take me back to that so-called home. I had no way to save myself. But out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something. On the coffee table behind Alistair, lay a fruit knife… Its blade reflected a cold gleam in the light.

The knife stood upright in the fruit bowl, as if pointing the way for me. A terrifying idea instantly sparked in my mind. Clinging to Alistair’s arm, my body trembled involuntarily. My voice broke, sounding fragile and helpless. “I’m still a little scared, Alistair.” Alistair’s body stiffened for a moment, then he gently patted my back. “It’s okay, Sweetie. Soon, you’ll be free.” I continued my act. “But I don’t want to leave you, or Mom and Dad.” A flicker of emotion crossed Alistair’s face. He cupped my cheek. “We’ll always remember you, Sweetie.” I suddenly pushed him away and lunged towards the coffee table. Grabbing the knife. “Sweetie, what are you doing!” Alistair’s voice immediately turned anxious. I gripped the fruit knife tightly, pointing the tip at my own neck. “Get away!” My voice was hoarse from screaming. Alistair looked at me, his face initially fearful, but a moment later, he sneered. “Did you think I wouldn’t be prepared?” He pulled a small remote control from his pocket and pressed a button. In an instant, my limbs felt weak, and the fruit knife clattered to the floor. My body became limp and powerless. “What… what did you do to me?” Alistair slowly walked towards me, looking at me with utter contempt. “A small precautionary measure.” Alistair adjusted his collar, his impeccable facade snapping back into place. “It’s getting late, we should leave.” He picked me up from the floor. I tried to resist, but I couldn’t move, only allowing him to manipulate me. I could only watch as he picked me up and tossed me into the passenger seat like a sack of trash.

The air in the car was so oppressive it was suffocating. Alistair turned on the stereo, and my favorite song began to play. “Don’t be so tense, Sweetie.” Alistair said gently as he drove, “We’re just going home.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at him or answer. The car slowly left the city and drove onto a road leading to the suburbs. I knew we were almost there. The car finally stopped in front of a secluded villa. It looked exactly as I remembered it—a house that felt more like a tomb. Alistair cut the engine and turned to look at me. “We’re home.” He unbuckled my seatbelt, then got out and walked around to open my door. “Do you need me to carry you?” I ignored him and propped myself up, standing by the car door. My legs still felt a bit wobbly, but I forced myself to stand steady, not letting him see my weakness. Alistair nodded, thoroughly satisfied. “You’re recovering much faster than I expected.” The door opened, and my mother, Brenda, emerged. She was dressed in a modest, tasteful dress, her hair meticulously styled. “You’re back.” Her voice was soft. “Mom,” Alistair greeted her warmly. I looked at her, but no words came out of my mouth. “Come in quickly, your father is waiting for you inside.” In the living room, my father, Richard, sat rigidly on the sofa. He was a quiet man; the number of times I’d spoken to him growing up could be counted on one hand. He looked up, glanced at me, then quickly looked down again. “Sit,” Father finally spoke, gesturing to the sofa opposite him. Alistair helped me sit, then sat beside me, tightly gripping my hand. “Dad, Mom,” Alistair broke the silence. “The time is right.” He took the manila envelope from his bag, pulled out the CT scan, and handed it over. “Look.” Father and Mother leaned in, carefully taking the scan, their eyes glistening with a sickening, triumphant joy. Their fingers lingered over the large shadow, a possessive, sickening tenderness in their touch. “This is wonderful… truly wonderful…” “After more than twenty years, we’ve finally reached this day.” I looked at these three people, supposedly my closest family, and a torrent of uncontrollable hatred and despair erupted from the depths of my being. “You’re all so happy, but did it ever occur to you that I might not want this?” Their smiles froze on their faces. Alistair’s grip tightened, crushing my hand almost to the point of breaking. “Elara!” I yanked my hand away and stood up. “Why should I die for someone who never even lived?” I coldly stared at these people who so readily professed their “love” for me. Father suddenly stood up, pointing at me, trembling with rage. “How dare you! How can you say such a thing? Everything you have was given to you by her! Now it’s time for you to repay her!” Alistair lunged forward, grabbing my arm. “It seems my ‘therapy’ hasn’t quite taken hold yet.” He turned to my parents. “Dad, Mom, please go back to your room. I need to speak with her alone.” Father snorted, then pulled my still-hesitant mother, turning and walking upstairs. Only Alistair and I remained in the living room. The gentleness on his face was gone, replaced by icy control. “It seems I’ve been too lenient with you.” He dragged me towards the basement door. “It’s time I reminded you what happens when you don’t obey.”

This was the place of my greatest childhood fears. Alistair effortlessly dragged me inside, then slammed the door shut with a bang. “Alistair! Let me out!” I frantically pounded on the heavy iron door, tears streaming down my face. His voice came from outside the door, cold and distant. “Reflect on your actions in there.” “Call me when you’ve come to your senses.” Then, the sound of his footsteps faded away. I slid down the door, leaning against it in despair. When I was little, if I ever showed the slightest doubt about their commands, they would lock me in here. I’d be trapped for days on end. Sometimes, they’d even play terrifying sounds: The growls of monsters, women’s screams, the clanking of chains… Even after all these years, I remembered every detail clearly. I hugged my knees, trying to stop my body from trembling. Don’t be scared. Alistair said that every moment of happiness and peace I felt was nourishing *it*. So, conversely, could my fear and pain also affect *it*? I began to recall past events. The night before the piano competition, they locked me in my room, forcing me to listen to horror stories all night. The next day, with dark circles under my eyes, I participated in the competition in a daze, and my performance was abysmal. And Alistair—he used tenderness and love as a disguise, soothing my wounds, making me drop my guard. Thinking of this, my stomach churned. I slowly stood up and began to grope in the dark. Relying on memory, I walked in one direction. I remembered there was a small window high up here. After some searching, my hand brushed against a rough wooden box. This was it! I climbed onto the box and pushed the window. I pushed with all my might. With a shattering crash. I immediately scrambled out, hands and feet. Outside was the villa’s backyard, overgrown with weeds. Ignoring the cuts on my palms from the broken glass, I got up from the ground and ran. Bursting through the backyard fence, I ran onto the desolate road. Behind me, the villa lights came on. They had found me. But my legs suddenly buckled beneath me, out of my control

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299270”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #惊悚Thriller #重生Reborn #玄幻Fantasy

My best friend always said that checking your partner’s phone was a basic requirement in any serious relationship. So, one evening, I decided to conduct a surprise inspection of my boyfriend’s phone. He seemed completely calm, handing it over without a moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t until I tapped on that pinned group chat, “Brothers United,” and used his account to send a message: “Hey guys, guess which girl I’m with right now.” Three seconds later, the screen exploded with replies: [????] [Holy hell! Serena’s back?] [Serena’s back?! Seriously?! Where is she?!] Serena. I’d never heard that name in Leo’s life before. A chilling premonition crept over me. I snapped my head up. Leo, who had been lounging on the sofa, had somehow straightened his back. His gaze was fixed, unblinkingly, on the phone in my hand. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but no sound came out. The phone vibrated frantically in my grip, new messages popping up one after another, buzzing relentlessly. I don’t know how long passed, but then he suddenly sprang up, practically lunging across the sofa. “Give it back!” His voice was hoarse, laced with an urgency and panic I’d never heard from him. Instinctively, I hid the phone behind my back, stood up, and took a step back. “Who is Serena?” I heard my own voice ask, dry and raspy. I looked at him, the man I had loved for two years, the man I thought I knew so well, the one I’d given my complete trust to. Yet, in that moment, he felt like a complete stranger. “Leo,” I repeated, my voice trembling uncontrollably, “Serena, who exactly is she?” “Just… just an old friend,” he finally managed to say. “Honestly, sweetheart, you have to believe me.” His voice softened. “It’s all in the past. I… I just didn’t want to bring it up, afraid you’d overthink things. I promise you, there’s absolutely nothing between us anymore.” He tried to approach me again, his tone urgent and earnest: “Don’t you know who’s truly in my heart? These past two years, haven’t you felt how I’ve treated you? Are you really going to completely dismiss everything we have just because of a thoughtless joke from my buddies?” It was true. For the past two years, he had been exceptionally good to me. Thoughtful, understanding, he remembered all our anniversaries, would buy me my favorite late-night snacks, and stayed constantly by my side when I was sick. Those warm, sweet memories flooded in, clashing fiercely with the icy suspicion, threatening to tear me apart. My hesitation seemed to register with him. He seized the opportunity, stepped forward, and gently pulled me into his embrace, his arms tightening around me, his chin resting on my head, his voice muffled: “I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have kept things about her from you. But I just thought there was no need to let past issues affect our present. I was wrong, please don’t be angry, okay? I’ll tell you everything from now on, hmm?” That night, he coaxed me with extreme tenderness, explaining that he and Serena had a brief, undefined relationship in college. They broke up due to personality clashes, and it ended on a sour note, which was why his friends remembered her so vividly. He said he no longer cared about her, and the only reason he hadn’t mentioned it was because he feared my jealous nature would make me upset. He sounded utterly reasonable, his eyes sincere, even a hint of being wronged for being misunderstood. I chose to believe him. Or perhaps, I chose the two years of emotional investment I had made, and the care he had shown me every day. I deleted the message from the group chat, pretending nothing had happened. He seemed to sigh in relief, treating me even better than before, more cautiously. Life, it seemed, had returned to its peaceful rhythm.

But some things, once shattered, can never truly be mended. I found myself involuntarily observing him. After he fell asleep, I would secretly pick up his phone. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself. His SnapChat, texts, and call logs were eerily clean. It wasn’t until a week later that, on a strange impulse, I tapped into his phone’s cloud drive. It required a password. My heart suddenly pounded. I knew all his common passwords, I tried them; they were wrong. A powerful intuition drove me. With trembling hands, I typed in his and Serena’s names. The screen flashed, and I was in. In that instant, my blood ran cold. Inside the cloud drive, there was a folder named “Project.” I clicked it open, revealing countless photos, and a subfolder within it, named “Her.” My hands trembled so hard I could barely hold the phone. I clicked on “Her.” There was only one photo. It was a girl’s back, wearing a white dress, standing in a field of sunflowers. Sunlight streamed down on her, making her look like something out of a painting. Even though it was just a back, I knew almost immediately: that was Serena. What chilled me to the bone even more was that back, that slightly curly long hair, the style of that dress… it was exactly what I had worn three years ago, on my first date with Leo. Shaking, I went back to the main “Project” folder and opened another subfolder. It was full of photos of *me*. Eating, sleeping, reading, laughing, angry… all kinds of moments of me. I used to think they were proof of his love, his sweet way of documenting our life together. But now, looking at these photos, a chill ran from my feet straight to the top of my head. Because in these photos, his camera angles, and the way he guided my poses… subtly, whether intentionally or not, they were replicating that back in the sunflower field. I abruptly looked up, at Leo sleeping soundly beside me. He seemed to be in a deep sleep, his features soft and relaxed. But in that warm bed, I felt like I’d been plunged into an ice bath. With trembling hands, I returned to the “Project” folder and started checking other folders. Their names were simple and clinical: [001_J], [002_L], [003_M]… like cold, numerical codes. My fingers were icy, I could barely grip the phone, and subconsciously, I clicked on the closest one, [002_L]. Inside were more photos. Many photos. Another girl, long, slightly curly hair, wearing various light-colored dresses. She was laughing, reading, drinking coffee… many candid shots. But her hairstyle, her fashion sense, the curve of her profile in some shots… faintly, there was an indescribable sense of familiarity. I backed out and clicked on [003_M]. Same thing. Another girl. Long, slightly curly hair, a fresh, clean style. The number of photos seemed fewer than in 002. So… I wasn’t the first. And I might not… be the last. Was I just the latest in his collection of similar replacements? Did he ever feel an ounce of genuine affection for me? Or was it all just a concession based on my resemblance to her? That tiny spark of attraction, if it ever existed, for “Maya” as an individual, what did it amount to in the face of his massive obsession with Serena? Probably, ridiculously insignificant. I sat on the cold floor, hugging my knees, watching the sky outside slowly lighten.

*Ding-dong* The doorbell rang like a death knell, waking a sleeping Leo. He walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Driven by a strange impulse, I crept to the door and pressed my ear against the cold wood. I heard the door open. Then, a sweet, entitled, and utterly familiar female voice that was etched into my very soul, crisp and clear. “Leo, darling, surprise! I’m back! The freeway from the airport was packed, so I had to leave super early this morning… Oh, why do you look so upset? Don’t you want me here?” My breath hitched instantly. Serena. So, *this* Serena. She really was back. And she had come straight here. Outside the door, Leo’s voice was tense: “Serena? How… how did you find this place? Why didn’t you say you were coming?” “I wanted to surprise you, silly! What, are you hiding someone in there? Is it not convenient for me to come in?” “No… you…” Leo was clearly flustered. “Oh, right,” Serena’s voice suddenly dropped, laced with cunning and a hint of provocation, “my sister… Maya, she lives here, doesn’t she?” “Sister.” The word was like a rusty key, unlocking the long-sealed, dark corners of my childhood. In the backyard, the new swing Dad bought. I hadn’t even had a chance to sit on it once before Serena, in her pretty princess dress, was already on it, with Dad pushing her from behind, her laughter ringing clear. I ran over, but Dad just brushed me off, saying, “Maya, be gentle with your sister, she’s younger.” But she was only a few days younger than me. Dad’s gaze always followed Serena, praising her as smart, beautiful, a little genius. And I was always the insignificant side character, the “senseless” child who “couldn’t hold a conversation” and “whose grades weren’t as good as my sister’s.” My crayon drawings were casually tossed aside, while any numbers Serena scribbled were cherished by Dad like precious treasures. My grievances and tears only earned me the reprimand, “You’re the older sister, you should be more sensible.” Serena’s voice pulled me back to reality: “It’s really quite funny, Leo, darling.” “You chased my shadow for so long back then, and then… how did you end up with her?” “Were you using my sister to miss me?”

The last shred of sanity in my mind shattered. I yanked open the bedroom door. Serena saw me, showing no surprise whatsoever. Instead, she looked me up and down, a perfect, taunting curve on her lips. “Oh, sister, you really are here,” she said, her tone light. “Long time no see. Why are you still…” She deliberately paused for effect, her gaze sweeping over my old, worn t-shirt and swollen eyes, “…so careless about your appearance?” Leo stood awkwardly between us, looking from me to Serena, his lips moving, but not a single word coming out. The helplessness and fury of my childhood instantly drowned me. Why? Why could I never escape her? Why was even the sole happiness I had grasped, the happiness I thought was mine, merely a byproduct of her shadow? “Who’s your sister? My mother only had me,” I said with difficulty. Serena dramatically covered her mouth, her eyes, however, crinkled with amusement: “Sister, why are you still so sensitive? You were like this as a child, always so serious, never cute at all. No wonder Dad always preferred me.” Leo finally found his voice, pleading: “Serena! Stop it!” He then turned to me, trying to take my hand: “Sweetheart, calm down, let’s go inside and talk, okay?” I violently shook him off, my eyes still locked onto Serena. “You’re not welcome here,” I said, each word slow and deliberate. Serena, however, acted as if she’d heard something amusing. Instead of leaving, she took a step forward, watching the tension between Leo and me with keen interest, her gaze finally settling on Leo’s frantic, bewildered face. “Leo, darling,” she tilted her head, her voice innocent yet utterly cruel, “You seem really scared of my sister getting angry, huh? What, do you actually… like her now?” “No way? Have you forgotten what you used to tell me? You said you loved how lively and smart I was, and couldn’t stand her quiet personality, so stubborn and boring, like a block of wood…” Leo sharply gasped, sucking in a cold breath, and cut her off angrily: “Serena! What the hell are you talking about!” My body swayed, almost imperceptibly. Stubborn and boring. Like a block of wood. I looked at Leo; he looked at Serena, his eyes filled with shock, an attempt to silence her, but absolutely no… denial. Serena watched his desperate expression, her smile growing more triumphant and brazen, as if everything was going exactly as she planned. In that moment, standing at the doorway of the apartment I’d lived in for two years, facing my boyfriend and my half-sister, I felt like a complete and utter joke. I said nothing more. I just turned around, walked back into the bedroom, grabbed my suitcase, not even fully zipped, and silently, directly, headed for the front door. “Sweetheart!” “Sister?” Two voices rang out simultaneously, one frantic, the other feigning surprise with playful mockery. I didn’t look back, nor did I stop. I pushed past Leo, who was blocking the doorway, deliberately bumped into Serena, who was still watching the show, and dragging my suitcase, stepped into the elevator. The elevator doors slowly closed, shutting out Leo’s panicked shouts and Serena’s triumphant smirk. The mirrored elevator wall reflected my pale, numb face. How ridiculous, Maya. All these years I’d fought to escape, and it turns out, it had never truly left me.

Dragging my suitcase, I walked aimlessly down the street like a lost soul. My phone vibrated frantically in my pocket, Leo’s name flashing on the screen. I hung up, then blocked him. The world was so big, and I suddenly had no idea where to go. Go back to my parents’ house? That place held even more memories of Serena and my father’s favoritism. I couldn’t do it. Go to my best friend Chloe’s? How could I explain this utterly absurd situation to her? Tell her that the man I loved for two years treated me as a stand-in for the person I hated most? In the end, I just found a quick hotel that looked reasonably clean and checked in. Once I closed the door, shutting out all external noise, I finally allowed myself to collapse, leaning against the door, slowly sliding down to the cold floor. Tears finally welled up, late but unstoppable. Not loud sobs, but silent, desperate streams, soaking my shirt. The next few days passed in a daze. My phone was off, cutting me off from the outside world. I just slept, stared blankly, and mechanically ate a little to sustain myself. Until one morning, I rushed to the bathroom and dry heaved for ages, but nothing came up. This happened for several consecutive days. A terrifying thought suddenly pierced my mind. I stared at the two clear red lines slowly appearing, and all the strength instantly drained from me, and I slid down the wall to the floor. Pregnant. Just as I decided to leave Leo for good, just as my life had been shattered into a million pieces, this baby arrived. What a… cruel irony.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299269”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #惊悚Thriller #重生Reborn #玄幻Fantasy

In front of my desk, a group of guys dispersed, leaving me standing alone. My desk was carved with insulting words like “cheap” and “slut.” My notebooks lay scattered on the floor, dirty and trampled. It was in that exact moment, I, the heroine of this novel who was forced into a relationship with him, suddenly regained my memories. The next second, Julian arrived, just as he always did, like a god. He reached out to me, his eyes unsettlingly deep. “Don’t be scared. I believe you’re innocent.” But I remembered everything. It was him who spread the rumors, all to isolate me, to make me utterly dependent on him, to belong only to him. Under his calculations, I not only broke ties with my parents but was also tricked into dropping out of school, ultimately becoming his golden cage pet. I snapped back to reality, his familiar hand already reaching out. Looking at his gentle smile, I felt a wave of nausea. This time, I violently slapped his hand away and spoke in a cold voice. “Of course, I’m innocent. The police will clear everything up.”

Julian’s hand froze in mid-air, the gentle mask on his face cracking for the first time. A hint of darkness flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a look of worry. “Alice, making a big deal out of this kind of thing will only ruin your reputation.” “Let me handle it, okay?” I bent down to pick up the notebooks from the floor, brushed off the shoe prints, and looked up to meet his gaze directly. “Didn’t you already destroy my reputation?” “Everything you guys did to me, I’m going to tell the police. None of you will get away with it.” My eyes swept over the faces of the guys who had been there earlier. Hearing me say that, their arrogant expressions finally softened a bit. In reality, I hadn’t called the police. Because in the original story, Julian’s specialty was using public opinion to apply pressure. Every time I was close to grasping a sliver of hope, he’d cut off all outside help under the guise of “protecting” me. Since I couldn’t stop him, I’d use the most just method to punish him. A month ago, on my way home, I was dragged into a dark alley by a drunk, an attempted assault. Julian appeared, rescued me, and took me home. But somehow, photos of last night’s incident were taken and spread throughout the school, reaching almost everyone. In the photos, my expression was maliciously distorted, my shoulder exposed. The boys leered, pointing and whispering, calling me “trash” and “slut.” I was isolated, labeled a slut. Every time, it was Julian who stepped in to save me. Until I awakened my memories and discovered it was all Julian’s carefully laid trap. He hired the drunk, and he spread the photos. All to make me cower under his wing, belonging only to him. Later, I was bullied into dropping out, confined by him in a mansion, and cut off from my parents. My father, consumed by rage and grief, suffered a fatal heart attack, and my mother never recovered from the devastation. The mansion’s curtains remained drawn day after day. I was trapped in that luxurious cage, living the same monotonous life. Until I accidentally stumbled into a secret room. The walls were plastered with photos of me from childhood to adulthood, dense and overwhelming. In the center was an old newspaper, featuring a blurry photo of a little girl’s back. Julian entered without me noticing, wrapping his arms tightly around me from behind, his voice twisted and trembling. “Do you remember, Alice?” “I was eight that year, and I fell into the icy lake in the park. The water was so cold, I thought I was going to die.” “It was you, such a tiny person, crying and yelling for adults, desperately pulling me out with a tree branch…” “You were the only light in my dark life.” His arms tightened around me, a fervent declaration, his breath hot against my neck. “Only I truly love you. My life belongs to you, and you’ll never escape me.” I felt cold all over, as if plunged into an ice abyss. My innocent act of kindness as a child had led to a nightmare that haunted half my life. My father dead from anger, my mother gravely ill… The source of all this tragedy was me, and the devil I had saved years ago. The ultimate outcome was me spending the rest of my life in the suffocating cage he had woven.

I snapped out of it. The guys, seeing Julian so calm, seemed to gain confidence. They exchanged glances, letting out even more piercing jeers. “Call the cops? Alice, who are you trying to scare?” “Yeah, what are the cops going to do? Tell everyone you deserved it for being a slut?” “We all saw the photos. Why are you still acting all high and mighty?” They relied on their numbers, convinced I wouldn’t dare, and couldn’t fight back. Just then, Mr. Harrison, our homeroom teacher, rushed over after hearing the commotion. Seeing my messy desk and scattered notebooks, his brow furrowed deeply. “What’s going on? What’s all this noise about?!” The guys immediately quieted down a bit, but still wore smug, unconcerned smiles. Julian instantly stepped forward, speaking before I could. “Mr. Harrison, it’s just a misunderstanding.” “Just some kids messing around. I’ll handle it, okay?” I took a deep breath, not looking at Julian, and faced Mr. Harrison directly, speaking clearly and firmly. “Teacher, this isn’t a joke. This is blatant slander, defamation, and bullying.” I pointed at the carvings on the desk, at the soiled notebooks on the floor, and finally at those boys. “Julian’s so-called ‘handling’ is just hoping I’ll silently endure this injustice.” I turned back to the surprised Mr. Harrison, enunciating each word, my tone resolute. “Mr. Harrison, I demand to call the police.” “These slanders and defamations have severely damaged my reputation and personal dignity.” “I need the law to clear my name.” Mr. Harrison was clearly stunned, seemingly unprepared for my assertiveness. Schools usually preferred to handle these matters internally. Julian’s face subtly darkened. “Alice, don’t be impulsive. Do you know the consequences of calling the police? Those photos…” “Of course, I know the consequences.” I cut him off, unwavering. “The consequence is that those who spread rumors and defame others will face legal punishment.” “As for those manipulated photos, it’ll be perfect for the police to trace their origin!” I deliberately emphasized “origin,” and saw Julian’s pupils contract almost imperceptibly. Finally, with my strong insistence and clear articulation, Mr. Harrison agreed to my request to call the police. Soon, the wail of a police siren echoed at the school gate. The moment the uniformed officers walked into the classroom. I saw the faces of those previously arrogant boys finally turning pale, their eyes filled with panic. They instinctively looked towards Julian. And Julian, standing at the edge of the crowd, his gentle worry already gone. It was replaced by an intensely cold scrutiny and a flicker of astonishment and gloom that I had completely broken free from his control. The arrival of the police instantly froze the atmosphere in the classroom. After understanding the basic situation, two officers took all of us to the police station. As Julian passed by me, he whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. “Alice, don’t blow this up beyond repair.”

The process of giving my statement was long and suffocating. Just as I expected, the boys quickly synchronized their stories. They just said it was a joke that went too far. The classroom surveillance camera was “conveniently” broken, with no evidence to prove they had bullied me. Julian’s statement was far more sophisticated. He played the role of an anxious, well-meaning classmate trying to defuse the conflict. “Officer, I believe Alice is innocent.” “But if this gets blown out of proportion, she’ll be the only one hurt.” He subtly implied that my insistence on calling the police was a “stubborn” act, disregarding my own reputation. Julian saving me was an undeniable fact, creating a perfect loop with his supposed good intentions. Then, the police followed protocol and notified parents and the school. Within fifteen minutes, Julian’s family lawyer rushed in, followed by our school’s vice-principal. The lawyer skillfully negotiated with the officers. The final outcome was cold and stark: insufficient evidence. Those boys, after a verbal warning from the police, slunk away. Julian was the last to leave. His face now held only a deep, almost tangible possessiveness. “Alice, the law can’t help you either.” He leaned in slightly, his voice laced with a chilling fanaticism. “Had enough fun? It’s time to come back to me.” I didn’t look up, just stared at my knuckles, clenched so tight they were white. The suffocating and helpless feeling from my memories returned. But the police failure was already within my expectations. I hadn’t expected to bring him down with just this one attempt. Calling the police so publicly was to alarm him, to force him to use his family’s connections. The more he intervened, the more mistakes he’d make, the more evidence he’d leave behind. I slowly lifted my head, my face devoid of the breakdown or submission he anticipated. Instead, I managed a faint smile. “Julian, the game has just begun.” A flicker of surprise and bewilderment crossed his eyes. Just then, I turned my head and saw my parents arriving at the police station, rushing towards us. The police must have told them everything that happened. Mom rushed over and hugged me tightly, her voice choked with sobs. “Alice!” “What happened? Why didn’t you tell Mom if you were upset?” Dad’s gaze swept over my messy school uniform and my swollen wrists, his face darkening further. He turned to the police officer beside him, his tone firm. “Officer, my daughter went through such a terrible thing at school. The school must give us an explanation!” “Dad, Mom.” I gently interrupted Dad’s questioning. “Let’s go home first. There won’t be any results for now.” Dad paused, seemingly surprised that I would proactively ask to leave. He looked at my pale face. Finally, he nodded heavily. “Okay, let’s go home first.” “But this isn’t over.” The three of us, under the complex gazes of Julian and the others, left the police station.

Back home, the moment the door closed, the tight string in my mind finally snapped. My legs gave out, and I almost collapsed, but Mom firmly caught me. Her warm embrace carried a comforting scent. The thought of how the story unfolded before I awakened my memories sent shivers of fear down my spine. I couldn’t hold back anymore; the pent-up grievances and fears erupted. “Mom… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” I cried heartbrokenly, my words incoherent, my body trembling uncontrollably. Mom hugged me tight, her voice also choked with sobs. “My silly girl, it’s Dad and Mom who didn’t protect you well enough, making you suffer so much…” Dad silently offered me warm water, his eyes filled with heartache and unfocused rage. His voice was hoarse with anger. “I’ll go to school tomorrow and demand an explanation! We don’t need this school. I will not let my daughter endure this kind of treatment again!” Mom tried to remain calm, wiping away my tears, then patting Dad. “Robert, don’t scare our child.” “Alice, it’s okay now. Mom and Dad are here.” They surrounded me, without a hint of disdain or doubt. Only complete trust and unreserved heartache. In that moment, memory and reality formed a cruel contrast. Julian’s chilling voice seemed to still echo in my ears. “Alice, your parents think you’ve shamed the family.” “They don’t want you anymore. Only I want you.” “Because of you, your family is ruined. Where else can you go but to rely on me?” Those words had repeatedly tortured my already shattered nerves at the time. Yet now, Dad was trembling with anger, but his concern was that he might scare me, might upset me. How could they think I was a disgrace? They only feared they hadn’t protected me enough. Julian had systematically removed all my support, intending to turn me into a helpless, clinging vine, utterly dependent on him. My parents insisted I rest at home for a few days, not going back to school for now. They carefully guarded my emotions, and the warmth of home almost made me succumb. But I knew Julian wouldn’t give up so easily. Sure enough, on the third night, my phone screen lit up with a text message from an unknown number. “Want to know the whole truth? Tomorrow night at eight, meet me under the old oak tree in the alley.” “Come alone.” My heart lurched. Julian couldn’t wait. It was almost identical to my memories. Only the time was earlier, and the method had changed from a subtle note to a direct text message. In the original story, driven by a desperate longing for the truth, I foolishly went to the meeting. What awaited me wasn’t the truth, but another carefully orchestrated “accident” and “rescue.” Then, under his repeated “benevolent” protection, I completely fell for him, destined for ruin. This time… I took a deep breath, my fingertips rapidly tapping on the screen. “Okay.” I knew another meticulously planned trap awaited me under that old oak tree. But this meeting, I had to take.

The next evening, I arrived at the tree early. Footsteps approached from behind the tree, uneven and dragging. Three thugs emerged from the alley. They saw me, exchanged a lewd glance, and swaggered up to surround me. I took a step back, my spine hitting the rough tree trunk. The corner of my eye sharply scanned the deeper shadow at the other end of the alley. It was Julian. One of the thugs reached out to grab my arm. I sharply slapped his hand away. My voice was laced with deliberately amplified terror and trembling. “What do you want? Get away from me!” “Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” Another thug spat, pressing closer. I pretended to struggle, pushing and shoving, letting out terrified whimpers. Sure enough, just as one thug’s hand was about to grab my collar. “Stop.” Julian stepped out of the shadows. He lunged forward in a few strides, pushing away the thug closest to me. He yanked me behind him, shielding me with his body. Julian had clearly trained; his movements were clean and precise, making the thugs stumble back. The thugs muttered curses, helped each other up, and fled. I coldly observed the performance tailored just for me. In my memories, I would have been trembling in fear at this moment. Clinging to him like a lifeline, falling even deeper into his dependency. But now, it only made me sick to my stomach. In the darkness, only his footsteps approaching me remained, along with his chillingly gentle voice. “Alice, are you okay?” “Don’t be scared. I’m here.” I looked at him with scorn. “Julian, putting on this little show, is it amusing?” He seemed not to have expected me to call him out so directly. The tenderness on his face gradually faded. He didn’t immediately refute, nor did he admit it. He just quietly watched me. After several seconds, he let out a very soft laugh. His voice was filled with a curious amusement at being seen through. “My Alice, you’ve really changed. You’re not like you used to be…” He reached out and, without resistance, pinched my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “But what if you know? What does it change?” He admitted it openly, his tone even carrying a hint of boastfulness. “That drunk, I paid him. Those photos, I took them, and I spread them.” “The bullying you suffered at school, I orchestrated all of it.” “They don’t understand you. They don’t want to believe you.” “Only I truly love you. Only I can clear all obstacles for you.” “See, tonight is no different.” He chuckled, his gaze sweeping over the spot where the thugs had disappeared. “Without me, what would you do?” He waited for my breakdown, my fear, my ultimate submission. This was the climax of his script. However, I merely looked at him, my eyes devoid of any of the emotions he desired. “Are you done talking?” Julian’s smile froze on his face. I slowly raised my phone, which had been in my jacket pocket, and waved it in front of him. The screen displayed the recording interface. “Julian, save those words for the police.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299268”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #惊悚Thriller #重生Reborn #玄幻Fantasy

The year I turned eight, my mom broke my arm, and my father rushed me to the hospital. Desperate, I reached for help, dialing the phone number Mom had drilled into my memory, the one she’d ordered me to keep etched in my heart. Less than half an hour later, a convoy of over a dozen sleek black SUVs descended upon us, lining up in an intimidating procession. The man leading them brutally beat my father, crippling him, then forced him to reveal Mom’s whereabouts. They rescued Mom from a hidden cellar in a remote, secluded cabin. Mom gazed at my father’s broken form, her face utterly devoid of sympathy, before she threw herself into the man’s arms. Everyone was about to leave. I stumbled forward, my small legs barely carrying me. “Mommy, a hug…” Mom whirled around, her hand flashing out, delivering a stinging slap across my face. “Don’t call me Mommy! You make me sick just looking at you. Get out of my sight, and don’t ever, *ever* come back!” My cheek burned, a searing pain, but the ache in my chest was worse. Hadn’t Mom promised she’d love me if I just did what she said?

The fiery sting on my face lingered as I stood rooted to the spot, clutching my cheek. Mom had explicitly told me that if I just remembered that number and did everything she asked, she would love me dearly. But now, the look in her eyes was colder than any of my father’s violent outbursts, chilling me to the bone. The man in charge merely cast a fleeting, cold glance my way. Then he reached out, drawing Mom closer by her shoulder. “Easy now, darling. Don’t stress yourself. Let’s go.” Mom leaned into his embrace, her shoulders still trembling slightly. Just then, the door of a stretched luxury sedan parked nearby swung open, and a little boy in a crisp white suit hopped out. His hair was perfectly combed, and he ran straight to Mom. “Mommy, are you okay? Daddy and I came to get you! Did anyone hurt you?” Mom looked down at the boy, her eyes instantly welling up. She knelt down, pulled him into a tight embrace, her voice thick with emotion. “Mommy’s fine, my precious. It’s all thanks to you and Daddy for rescuing me.” Her hand gently stroked the boy’s back, a tender gesture, as if cradling the most priceless treasure. That was a tenderness I had never, not even once, received. I stood watching, a sharp, twisting ache seizing my heart, mingled with an indescribable envy. My body seemed to move on its own accord. I awkwardly shuffled a few steps closer, wanting to be nearer to Mom. But before I could reach her, the little boy suddenly looked up. He shoved me back forcefully. “Get away from my mom!” “Don’t you dare touch her with your filthy hands! Go away!” I already had injuries, and the push sent me sprawling onto the ground. Mom stood up as well, her gaze now filled with even more intense revulsion. She instinctively pulled the little boy behind her and spoke to the man. “Please, take my darling to the car and sanitize him. She’s just… unclean.” The man nodded. They turned to walk towards the luxury car. Panic surged through me. I forgot the pain, forgot the fear, and ran after them, yelling. “Mommy! Mommy, don’t leave!” My voice was raw with tears, but Mom didn’t even turn her head. The man seemed annoyed by my cries. He paused, giving a subtle nod to two burly men in dark suits nearby. Soon, a large cargo van pulled up. The back doors swung open, revealing a pitch-black interior reeking of damp earth and something acrid. Inside, a metal cage held a massive Doberman, its name Brutus. The moment it saw me, it snarled, baring its razor-sharp teeth, and let out a ferocious, guttural bark. Fear froze me to the spot. I even forgot how to cry. The little boy’s face was flushed with triumphant glee. “Mommy, look! I specially asked Daddy to bring Brutus! He’s here to protect you!” “If this little monster dared to bully you just now, Brutus would’ve definitely taken a bite out of her!” Julian Thorne, the man, said nothing. He just gestured for his men to open the cage door, then reached out and grabbed my arm. His grip was merciless, sending a fresh wave of agony through my already wounded flesh. I struggled, trying to pull away, but his hold was unbreakable. “No! Let go! Mommy, help me!” I screamed, but he acted as if he hadn’t heard, forcefully shoving me into the metal cage. I fell onto the cold, hard floor of the cage, the pain bringing fresh tears to my eyes. The little boy leaned over the edge of the van, tilting his head as he curiously asked the man. “Daddy, is this little monster coming home with us too?” The man didn’t answer. He simply motioned for the men to put Brutus back into the cargo area. The van doors slammed shut, plunging me into absolute darkness. The foul stench grew even stronger. Brutus seemed displeased that I was occupying his space, circling the cage and barking at me incessantly. If not for the metal bars, I was certain he would have torn me to shreds. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I curled into a ball, my knees pressed against my chest, and muffled my sobs.

The cargo van swayed gently with the truck’s movement. I huddled in the corner of the cage, hugging my knees. The wound on my arm throbbed relentlessly, and my stomach growled a hollow protest. My tears had long since dried, leaving my eyes gritty and aching. After what felt like an eternity, the truck suddenly stopped. The truck driver, a flicker of pity in his eyes, held out a sandwich and a bottle of water. He seemed hesitant. “Kid, you must be starving, right? Here, take this…” Before he could finish, a chilling voice cut in from outside. “Who told you to interfere?” I squinted towards the light. Julian Thorne stood by the van, his face utterly devoid of emotion, his eyes like chips of ice. He snatched the sandwich and water from the driver’s hand. Without a glance at me, he tossed them directly to Brutus. I watched Brutus wolf down the food, the hunger in my own stomach clawing at me even harder. I licked my cracked lips. There was a water bowl for Brutus inside the cage, but the stench was sickening, threatening to make me gag. Yet, I forced myself to drink, choking it down, ignoring the awful taste. At least it offered a moment’s relief from the thirst. Julian’s gaze swept over me, raw disgust etched on his features. He said nothing more, simply tilting his head towards the driver, who quickly closed the van doors. The cargo area plunged back into darkness. After what seemed like another endless journey, the truck finally stopped. When the doors opened, I saw an enormous house, grander than any castle I’d ever seen in movies. Fountains sparkled, manicured gardens stretched out, and liveried staff stood in perfectly aligned rows by the entrance. Julian and Mom walked ahead, Mom cradling the little boy in her arms. I later learned his name was Lucas Thorne. Lucas beamed, his face alight with joy. Mom occasionally bent down to whisper to him, her expression soft and tender. I was yanked from the metal cage, my arm throbbing painfully from the grip. Julian didn’t even look at me. He simply addressed a staff member. “Take her away. Find somewhere to confine her. I don’t want her making an unsightly mess of the place.” I had no room. My assigned space was a damp, perpetually dim corner in the basement. Every morning before dawn, I had to rise and work – scrubbing floors, doing laundry, tidying the garden. If I missed a single spot, the staff would scold me, and sometimes Mom would even see. But she never helped. She would either walk away as if I were invisible, or she’d scowl and snap at me to vanish, as if my mere presence polluted her sight. Whatever toy Lucas wanted, Julian would immediately have someone buy it. Once, I walked past the living room and saw Mom sitting on the sofa, Lucas nestled in her arms, while Julian sat beside them, reading a story from a book. That was a happiness I could never even dream of in this lifetime, a happiness I would never possess. Back in the remote area where we used to live, storybooks were a luxury no one had. But a neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, used to tell her daughter bedtime stories every night. I always wished Mom would tell me a story, just once. My body began to move forward again, seemingly against my will. I wanted to get a little closer, to hear Mom’s voice just a little longer. Mom seemed to sense something. She suddenly looked up. The moment her gaze fell on me, her smiling face instantly changed, as if she’d just seen something utterly repulsive. All the tenderness was replaced by fierce revulsion. “How dare you come here? Who let you in?!” Her reaction startled me, and I froze, my fingers nervously twisting the hem of my worn shirt. Mom rushed over, reaching out and shoving me. I slammed against the wall, biting back a cry of pain. Lucas ran over too, kicking my shin hard. Tears instantly welled up. “Stay away from my mom!” Lucas yelled, kicking me several more times. Mom just stood there watching, making no move to stop him. Instead, she frowned and said. “Lucas, don’t touch her. You might get dirty. Mommy will take you to wash your hands later.” I crouched on the ground, clutching my throbbing shin, tears dripping onto the floor.

In the days that followed, I was treated like discarded trash, left in the darkest corner. The staff, seeing Julian’s and Mom’s attitude towards me, became even more cruel. They ordered me around at will, constantly yelling and hitting me. Lucas found new entertainment. “Little monster, come here! From today on, you’re my pony!” I didn’t dare to move. He came forward, grabbed a handful of my hair, and dragged me into the garden, forcing my head down. “On all fours! Hurry!” I gritted my teeth and crawled on the ground. The coarse gravel bit into my knees, a searing pain. Lucas climbed onto my back, clutching my hair and yelling, “Giddy up!” I could only endure the pain and crawl forward. If I slowed down even a little, the small riding crop in his hand would lash fiercely across my back. Sometimes, when he wasn’t satisfied, he would make the staff bring Brutus over. “Brutus, chase her! Make her run faster!” Brutus’s barks echoed behind me, and my heart hammered against my ribs, threatening to burst. I crawled with all my might, my knees scraped raw and bleeding, but I dared not slow down. What pained me most was Mom. She sat under a sun umbrella in the garden, sipping her afternoon tea, her eyes fixed on me as Lucas rode me around. A faint, chilling smile even played on her lips. “Lucas, be careful not to fall.” Her gaze never once lingered on me, not even when the riding crop tore the fabric on my back. In her eyes, I seemed to be nothing more than a beast of burden, a toy to be ridden and abused. Here, I went hungry every single day. Lucas didn’t like carrots. Every meal, he would dump the carrots from his plate into the flower beds. So, when no one was around, I would sneak into the flower beds and pick up the dirt-covered carrots. The gritty, earthy taste coated my tongue, but at least it filled my stomach a little. Today, I was so incredibly hungry that I chewed a couple of bites before realizing something was wrong. It wasn’t a carrot. “What are you doing?!” Mom rushed over, her eyes falling on the trampled flowers in the flower bed. “My flowers! How dare you eat my flowers?!” Lucas heard her voice and ran over. When he saw the carrots on the ground and the ruined flowers, his eyes flickered with panic. He was afraid Mom would discover he had been picky and wasteful, throwing his food here. “Mommy, she tried to steal my carrots and deliberately ruined your flowers!” Mom’s already furious emotions escalated, spiraling into a furious rage. She lunged forward, grabbing my arm and shaking me violently. “You ungrateful wretch! It’s a miracle I haven’t let you starve to death, and now you dare to steal Lucas’s food and destroy my flowers! I shouldn’t have let you live!” “Enough, darling. Don’t get yourself worked up.” Julian Thorne had appeared nearby at some point. He walked over, put an arm around Mom’s shoulder, and gently patted her back to calm her. His eyes, however, fixed on me with a fierce glare. Once Mom’s emotions had somewhat settled, he slowly walked to me, knelt down, and his fingers clamped around my jaw, forcing my head up to look at him. “I’m warning you, don’t ever make her angry again, and don’t ever bother Lucas. In this house, not even a single flower is yours to touch.” “Dare to transgress again, and I’ll show you something far worse than being chased by Brutus.” I looked into the cold malice in his eyes. Terror seized me, my body trembling uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but I was too terrified to even whimper. The pain in my jaw intensified until he finally released me. I collapsed onto the ground, weak and limp, watching as Mom was led away by Julian. Lucas even turned back and stuck his tongue out at me. Mom knew perfectly well that Lucas was much stronger than me, and I was always the one being bullied. Yet, she would rather believe Lucas’s lies than spare me even a glance.

Soon, Lucas’s birthday arrived. I was ordered to wear a ridiculous bear mascot costume and stand in a corner, playing a cheerful character for the guests’ amusement. I couldn’t endure it any longer. I secretly took off the costume head to catch my breath. But the moment my face was revealed, I met Lucas’s eyes. He was walking by with a small slice of cake. Seeing me, he immediately shrieked. “Daddy! Mommy! The little monster is trying to steal my birthday cake!” Mom rushed through the crowd, grabbed my arm, and dragged me to the center of the banquet hall. Hundreds of eyes bore into me, filled with open disdain, morbid curiosity, and thinly veiled glee. “My allowing you to live here is a monumental act of charity! And now you dare to steal at Lucas’s birthday party?!” Mom’s voice trembled with rage. She raised her hand, ready to strike me. “I didn’t…” I weakly protested, my head spinning, barely able to stand. “Still talking back?!” Julian walked over. He gazed down at me with an air of cold, calculated superiority. Instead of hitting me, he reached out and took a slice of birthday cake from a passing waiter’s tray. It was the cake I’d only dared to look at from afar, not even allowing myself to fully inhale its sweet scent. Then, his hand slammed down, grinding the slice of cake into my face with deliberate, brutal cruelty. A ripple of low chuckles spread through the guests. Some even pulled out their phones to take pictures. Lucas clapped his hands, cheering. “Daddy’s so cool! That’s how you punish her!” “Get out! Get out of here right now! Don’t you dare contaminate everyone’s sight any longer!” Mom pointed to the door, her voice shrill. I dared not stay, afraid they would hit me again. I scrambled away, half-crawling, half-stumbling towards the grand staircase. But Lucas wasn’t satisfied. He chased after me, kicking my back and legs as he ran. “Little monster, don’t run! You still haven’t apologized to me!” I was only focused on running forward and didn’t notice the steps beneath my feet. He kicked my knee, and my body swerved. I plummeted down the stairs, Lucas losing his balance and falling after me. My vision went black. Before I lost consciousness, I heard Mom’s gut-wrenching shriek. Unfortunately, it wasn’t for me. Then, I completely lost awareness. When I next opened my eyes, I was lying in a hospital bed, my entire body aching. Mom sat by the bed, clutching Lucas’s hand, her eyes red and swollen from crying. The doctor stood nearby, his face grave. “Mr. Thorne, Mrs. Thorne, young Master Thorne’s condition isn’t good. He needs an emergency blood transfusion, but his blood type is incredibly rare, and our hospital’s blood bank doesn’t have a match. Neither of your blood types match either…” Julian stood nearby, his face terrifyingly grim. A nurse approached my bed, carrying my medical chart, and spoke softly to the doctor. “Doctor, when we drew blood from this little girl earlier, we found her blood type is the same as Young Master Thorne’s.” Julian spun around, his gaze snapping to me, as if he couldn’t believe it. He strode quickly to my bedside, staring at my face, then at the chart in the nurse’s hand. His voice trembled slightly. “What did you say? Her blood type is the same as Lucas’s?” The nurse nodded. Julian immediately turned to the doctor. “Quick! Have the doctors run more detailed tests! Confirm if it’s a perfect match!” The doctors immediately got busy. Julian stood rooted to the spot, muttering to himself. “Impossible… Lucas’s blood type is so rare, even mine doesn’t match. How could hers…?” Then, he followed the doctor to the lab. Only Mom and I were left in the room. Mom didn’t even glance at me, merely holding Lucas’s hand tightly. About half an hour later, Julian walked back in, looking utterly shell-shocked, his steps unsteady. Mom saw him and immediately stood up, asking anxiously. “Well? Is it not a match? I knew this monster would be useless! If anything happens to Lucas, I swear I won’t let her off the hook!” Julian suddenly cut her off, his voice hoarse. “Stop, Eleanor.” He looked at Mom, then at me, pausing for a few seconds before speaking with great difficulty. “She’s not a monster… She’s our biological daughter.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299267”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #惊悚Thriller #重生Reborn #玄幻Fantasy