“Two hundred times.” I was staring at Jacob’s Venmo statement. It took a full five minutes of scrolling to reach the bottom of the transaction history. Every payment was sent to the same recipient: “Babe.” “You sent her ninety-five thousand dollars,” I said, finally looking up. “You give me five hundred a month.” Jacob froze on the couch. “I…” “Don’t,” I cut him off, setting down the phone. “I’ve already printed the bank records.” The color drained from his face. I stood up and walked over to him. “I want a divorce.” 1. For three years, I thought I’d married the right man. Jacob didn’t smoke or drink, had a stable job, and was always so considerate. When our son was born in our second year of marriage, he was the one getting up in the middle of the night for diaper changes, the one who could always soothe him back to sleep. My mom always said a man like that was one in a million. I thought so, too. Until last night. Jacob had forgotten his phone at home. He was at a late meeting at the office, and I was home with our son. After I put the baby to sleep, I was scrolling on my own phone when I noticed his lighting up on the coffee table, buzzing over and over. I picked it up, thinking it might be something urgent from work. The notification on the screen read: Babe sent you $1,000. I froze. Babe? The phone was unlocked. I tapped open his Venmo. The transaction list was endless. A river of digital cash flowing from him to her. I scrolled for five solid minutes and still hadn’t hit the beginning. The recipient: “Babe.” Two hundred transactions. The earliest was dated December 15, 2023, for five hundred dollars. The most recent was yesterday. A thousand. My hand was shaking as I opened the calculator app. I added them up, one by one. The final tally: $95,000. Ninety-five. Thousand. Dollars. I sank back onto the couch, my mind a complete blank. He’d given someone he called “Babe” ninety-five thousand dollars. When we got married, I was the one who put down the $75,000 for the down payment on our house. My salary is $6,000 a month. For three years, I’d given him $500 every month for “household expenses,” while the rest of my paycheck went to the mortgage, our son’s formula and diapers, and helping out my own parents. The mortgage was $2,800 a month. I paid it. Our son’s needs cost another $1,500 a month. I paid for it. Had I ever asked him for money? Not once. He was always saying how busy he was, how many projects he had at work. And I’d always say, “It’s fine, you focus on your career. I’ve got things covered at home.” Now I knew just how busy he’d been. Busy sending money to “Babe.” Two hundred times. I set his phone down and walked to the balcony. Rain lashed against the glass, a frantic, drumming sound. I remembered last winter. My dad was in the hospital, and I had begged Jacob, literally on my knees, to lend me ten thousand dollars. “The company’s finances are really tight right now,” he’d said, his face a mask of regret. “I just can’t pull it out.” I ended up borrowing five thousand from my best friend, Sarah, and maxing out a credit card for the other five. Finances were tight. But in that very same month, he sent “Babe” twelve thousand dollars. A laugh escaped my lips, bitter and sharp. It turned into a sob, and tears started streaming down my face. No. I wiped them away fiercely. What was there to cry about? I marched back into the living room, grabbed his phone, and started taking screenshots. Every transfer. Every amount. Every date. Two hundred screenshots. Then I opened his WhatsApp. Pinned to the very top of his chats was a conversation with: Babe. I opened it. The latest message was from 11 PM last night. Babe: Hey honey, I bought that purse we saw today. Thank you so much!~ Jacob: If you like it, that’s all that matters. I’ll come see you tomorrow. Babe: Can’t wait! See you then, love you! I scrolled up. Over five hundred messages. Morning, my love. I’m craving sushi tonight. I found the perfect condo, 1,200 square feet. The down payment is $120,000. You promised you’d marry me. My finger froze on the screen. Marry her. He told her he was going to marry her. I kept scrolling until I found a photo. A picture of the two of them. Jacob had his arm wrapped around a young woman, who was beaming at the camera. They were on a beach, the sunset painting the sky behind them in strokes of orange and purple. The date on the photo was from July. That month, I was three months postpartum, still recovering at home. He told me he was going on a company retreat to Miami. It wasn’t a company retreat. I took a deep breath and continued taking screenshots. Every message, every picture. I saved them all. By the time I was done, it was two in the morning. Jacob still wasn’t home. I sent him a text: Are you coming home tonight? He replied instantly: Meeting ran super late. Just gonna crash at the office. I stared at the message and smiled. The office. I had a feeling I knew exactly where his “office” was. I opened his credit card statements. It was linked to a card I paid off for him. Thirty-eight charges from a hotel. The same one every time: the downtown Hilton. The same room number: 1806. Each charge was for $250. Thirty-eight times. That was ninety-five hundred dollars. I jotted down the address and placed the phone back on the coffee table, exactly where I’d found it. A cry came from the bedroom. Our son was awake. I went in and lifted him from his crib, patting his back gently. “It’s okay, sweetie. Mommy’s here.” I looked down at my two-year-old boy, with his father’s eyes. I once believed he would grow up in a happy, complete home. It seemed I was wrong. Jacob came home just as dawn was breaking. He pushed the door open and stopped short when he saw me on the couch. “Why are you still up?” I looked at him and smiled. “Waiting for you.” “Waiting for me for what?” he asked, kicking off his shoes and walking toward me. “Nothing, really. I just felt like we should talk.” He sat down next to me, reaching an arm out to pull me close. I shifted away. His hand hung in the air for an awkward moment before he dropped it. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” I said, standing up. “You must be tired. You should get some sleep.” He gave me a strange look before heading to the bedroom. I remained on the couch. My phone screen glowed in the dim light. I scrolled through my contacts and found Sarah’s number. “Sarah? Can you do me a huge favor?” Her voice was thick with sleep. “Laura? What time is it? What’s going on?” “I need a lawyer.” “A lawyer?” Sarah was suddenly wide awake. “What happened?” “Jacob is cheating on me,” I said, my voice as calm as if I were commenting on the weather. “What?!” she shrieked. “What did you just say?” “He’s been cheating for two years. Ninety-five thousand dollars. Two hundred Venmo transfers.” There was a stunned silence on the other end. Then, Sarah’s voice came back, firm and resolute. “Stay right there. I’m coming over.” I hung up and looked out the window. The sun was rising. The rain had stopped. And my counterattack, I thought, was about to begin. 2. Sarah arrived with breakfast. Coffee, bagels, and the lox spread I loved. “Eat something first,” she said, sitting beside me. “Then tell me everything.” I recounted the events of the previous night. The Venmo history, the WhatsApp messages, the hotel bills. By the time I finished, Sarah’s face was a thundercloud. “That absolute bastard!” she slammed her hand on the table. “He needs to walk away from this with nothing but the clothes on his back!” “He will,” I said, sipping my coffee. “But I need more evidence.” “What’s your plan?” “I’m going to hire a lawyer, get all the facts straight, and then I’m filing for divorce.” Sarah nodded, her expression grim. “I have a friend from college, a real shark who specializes in divorce cases. She’s brilliant. I’ll call her right now.” She pulled out her phone. “Ms. Carter, it’s Sarah… I have a friend who needs your help…” Ten minutes later, Sarah gave me an address. “Two o’clock this afternoon. Ms. Carter will see you at her firm.” I nodded and stood up. “I’ll go get ready.” “Want me to come with you?” “No, you’ve got work,” I said with a small smile. “I can handle this.” Sarah looked at me, then pulled me into a fierce hug. “Laura, you be strong.” I patted her back. “I am.” Jacob woke up late in the morning. He walked into the living room and saw me organizing a stack of papers. “What are you doing?” “Just sorting some things,” I said without looking up. “Oh.” He went to the kitchen for a glass of water. “I have to head into the office today. Might be another late night.” “Okay.” He paused in the doorway, studying me. “You seem… off today.” I finally met his gaze and smiled. “Do I? Probably just didn’t sleep well.” “Right.” He finished his water and set the glass down. “Well, I’m heading out.” “Wait,” I called out. He turned. “Yeah?” “Don’t forget your phone,” I said, pointing to the coffee table. “You left it here last night.” He walked over, picked it up, and glanced at the screen, a visible wave of relief washing over him. “Thanks.” I watched him walk out the door, a cold smile on my face. Thanks for what? Thanks for me not looking? Or thanks for me not saying anything? At two o’clock sharp, I was at the law firm. Ms. Carter was a woman in her late thirties, sharp, professional, and refreshingly direct. “Sarah filled me in on the basics,” she said, handing me a cup of tea. “Let’s see the evidence.” I handed her a flash drive containing all the screenshots from the night before. Ms. Carter plugged it into her laptop and meticulously reviewed each file. When she finished, she looked up. “This is a very strong start, but I recommend we get more.” “Like what?” “Hotel surveillance footage, official check-in records, and the identity of this other woman.” “How do I get any of that?” “We can subpoena the check-in records using the credit card statements. A police report would give us access to the surveillance footage. As for the woman’s identity…” Ms. Carter paused. “I can have someone look into that for you.” “How much will it cost?” “Seven thousand five hundred. That covers the private investigator and all my preliminary legal fees.” I nodded. “Okay. I can transfer it to you now.” “No rush,” Ms. Carter said, closing her laptop. “First, I have a few questions.” “Go ahead.” “One, whose name is on the house deed?” “Mine. I made the down payment of seventy-five thousand before we were married, and I’ve been the one paying the mortgage.” “Two, how old is your son?” “Two.” “Three, what’s your monthly income?” “Six thousand after taxes.” “And four,” she said, leaning forward, her gaze intense. “What do you want?” I met her eyes and said, each word deliberate and clear, “I want the house, I want my savings back, I want our son, and I want Jacob to walk away with absolutely nothing.” A slow smile spread across Ms. Carter’s face. “Ruthless. I like it.” She stood and extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you.” I shook it. “The pleasure is all mine.” As I left her office, I sent a text to Sarah: It’s done. Her reply was instant: Go get him! I stood on the sidewalk, watching the cars rush by. Three years ago, I married Jacob thinking I had found the person I would spend my life with. Three years later, I’d discovered he was nothing but a con artist. But that was okay. I was going to make him pay for it. That evening, Jacob came home while I was in the kitchen making dinner. “Home early today?” I asked. “Things were quiet, so I thought I’d come home and spend some time with you.” He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. My body went rigid, but I didn’t push him away. “You work so hard,” he murmured into my ear. I continued chopping vegetables, my hand perfectly steady. “It’s nothing.” “Oh, by the way,” he said, releasing me. “How are we doing on savings?” My heart clenched, but I kept my expression neutral. “Why do you ask?” “No reason, just wondering if we could maybe start looking at trading in the car for a new one.” A new car. Or a down payment on a condo for his “Babe”? I turned to face him, forcing a smile. “There isn’t much left. It’s all gone to the mortgage and raising our son these past few years.” “Oh.” His disappointment was obvious. “Well, never mind then.” I looked at him and felt a wave of disgust. This was the man who, three years ago, promised to take care of me for the rest of my life. Now, he was trying to figure out how to get his hands on my money to buy another woman a house. “Dinner’s ready,” I said, carrying the plates to the table. Jacob sat down and picked up his fork. I sat across from him, watching. He ate with gusto, taking a large bite of steak. “You know, nobody cooks like you.” I offered a tight smile. “Is that so?” “Of course,” he said, looking up at me. “You’re the best wife in the world.” The best wife in the world. I wondered, had he said the same thing to “Babe”? I looked down at my plate and kept eating. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ms. Carter: Investigation is underway. I’ll have a full report for you in three days. I texted back a simple “OK” and put my phone down. Three days. I just had to endure this for three more days. 3. On the evening of the third day, a file from Ms. Carter appeared in my inbox. I opened it, and the first page made my breath catch in my throat. Tiffany, 23. An intern in the marketing department at Jacob’s company. The photo showed a young, pretty woman with a sweet smile. The second page was a detailed log of her hotel stays with Jacob. Thirty-eight times. Always the Hilton, room 1806. The third page contained photos from the private investigator. The two of them holding hands while shopping. Laughing together in a restaurant. Entering and leaving the hotel. The fourth page was a copy of the bank transfers. Ninety-five thousand dollars from Jacob to Tiffany. Two hundred transactions, all listed in black and white. The fifth page was an audio file. I clicked play and heard Jacob’s voice. “Babe, I checked out that condo. The down payment is one-twenty. We can scrape it together.” Tiffany’s voice replied, “But I thought you said money was tight?” “Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.” “What about your wife…?” “She’ll never know. She’s so clueless.” Clueless. He called me clueless. I closed the file and took a long, shuddering breath. Okay. This was it. I picked up my phone and called Ms. Carter. “I received the file.” “Is it enough?” she asked. “It’s more than enough,” I said. “I’m confronting him tomorrow.” “Are you sure? You don’t want to wait?” “I’m done waiting,” I said, my gaze fixed on the dark city outside my window. “I’ve been disgusted long enough.” After the call, I walked into the living room. Jacob was watching TV, our son asleep in his arms. It was a picture of domestic bliss. A beautiful, poisonous lie. “Jacob,” I said. He turned his head. “What’s up?” “We need to talk.” “About what?” “About your ‘Babe’.” His face changed in an instant. “What… what are you talking about?” I walked over, gently lifted our sleeping son from his lap, and carried him to his bedroom, closing the door behind me. When I returned to the living room, I sat down across from him. “Your Venmo. You sent two hundred payments to someone named ‘Babe,’ totaling ninety-five thousand dollars.” Jacob shot to his feet. “You went through my phone?” “I did,” I said calmly. “I also read your WhatsApp messages. Over five hundred of them. You called her your wife. You told her you were going to marry her.” “I…” “You also went to the Hilton, room 1806, thirty-eight times. At two hundred and fifty dollars a pop.” “Laura, just let me explain…” “There’s nothing to explain.” I held up my phone and opened the photo gallery. “I have screenshots of everything. I have the printed bank statements. I hired a lawyer and a private investigator. They have pictures of you two.” I held the phone out to him. He took it, his face turning ashen as he swiped through the images. “When did you…” “Three days ago,” I said, my eyes boring into his. “The night you left your phone at home.” He collapsed back onto the couch, his head in his hands. “I’m sorry…” “Sorry?” I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “You gave her ninety-five thousand dollars while giving me five hundred a month for our family. And you’re sorry?” “I… It was a moment of weakness…” “A moment of weakness that lasted two years?” I stood over him. “Two hundred money transfers? Thirty-eight hotel bookings?” “Laura, I swear, I know I messed up. Just give me one more chance…” “A chance?” I stepped closer. “When my father was in the hospital, I begged you for ten thousand dollars, and you told me the company’s funds were tight.” I locked my eyes on his. “But that very same month, you sent her twelve thousand.” He wouldn’t look at me, his silence a confession. “I made the seventy-five-thousand-dollar down payment on this house. I pay the twenty-eight-hundred-dollar mortgage every month. I cover the fifteen hundred dollars it costs to raise our son. And on top of all that, I gave you five hundred dollars a month for ‘expenses’.” My voice was steady, but every word was a razor blade. “You took my money and you used it to keep her for two years.” Jacob looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. “I really am sorry, I know I was wrong…” “It’s too late.” I turned, picked up a document from the coffee table, and threw it in front of him. “That’s the divorce agreement. Sign it.” “Laura!” He lunged for my hand. I snatched it back. “Don’t touch me.” “I’m not signing it! I’m not getting a divorce!” “It’s not up to you.” I gestured to the papers. “The house is legally mine—I made the down payment before we were married and I’ve paid the mortgage. Our son is two; I’ll get full custody. The thirty thousand left in my savings account is from before the marriage; that’s mine, too.” “And that ninety-five thousand you gave her? That’s marital property you illegally transferred. I’m getting it back.” He stared at me, stunned. “You… you’re going to leave me with nothing?” “That’s right,” I said, looking down at him without a shred of pity. “You don’t deserve a single penny of my money.” “Laura, you can’t do this…” “I can’t?” I cut him off. “When you were sneaking around, did you ever stop to think that maybe I couldn’t handle this?” He had no answer. I grabbed my purse and walked to the door. “The agreement is on the table. You have until tomorrow to sign it. Otherwise, I’m filing.” “Laura!” I shut the door, cutting off his voice. Downstairs, I stood on the sidewalk and took a deep, gulping breath of the night air. My hands were trembling. Not from fear. From rage. And something else… relief. It was finally out. I didn’t have to pretend anymore.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387097”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Answering an emergency call got me reported for a “bad attitude,” and my department head fired me on the spot. The patient’s mother gloated, “Good. You deserve to be unemployed.” So I walked away and took a job at a private institute for triple the salary. The next day, that same mother burst into my new ER, clutching her child. “Please, I’m begging you, save my son!” Her son had a rare disease. Only three doctors in the entire city knew how to treat it. Two of them were overseas. The third one was me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m no longer a doctor at your hospital.” My old department head showed up with the hospital president. “Name your price! Anything!” I pointed at the mother. “I want her on her knees outside my mother’s ICU room until the day my mother walks out of it.” Three months later, I took half of my old department’s doctors with me. 01 It was two in the morning, and the emergency room at City General Hospital was a gaping, unhealing wound in the belly of the sleeping metropolis. The air was a thick, suffocating cocktail of antiseptic, iron-rich blood, and the sour tang of vomit. The hallways were crammed with temporary gurneys. A desperate symphony of moans, coughs, the anxious whispers of families, and the incessant, rhythmic beeping of monitors filled the space. I was wearing a white coat stained with blood and God knows what else, having been on my feet for eighteen consecutive hours. The soles of my feet felt like I was walking on shattered glass; every step was a fresh stab of pain. My eyelids were leaden weights. A relentless, pounding drumbeat throbbed at my temples. My brain felt like it was pickling in formaldehyde—dull, slow, and numb. I was in the middle of administering a nebulizer treatment to a patient having a severe asthma attack when my phone began to vibrate violently, as if possessed. The screen lit up with the caller ID: “Nanny.” Beneath it, a glaring notification: 12 Missed Calls. My heart plummeted. A cold dread seized my throat. I answered, and the nanny’s hysterical sobs exploded through the receiver. “Dr. Ross! Your mother… her heart… it stopped! The ambulance isn’t here yet!” BOOM. My mind went blank. The world fell silent, replaced by a high-pitched ringing in my ears. The nebulizer mask slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor. It took me a few seconds to find my voice, and when I did, it was a ragged, trembling mess. “Now! Start chest compressions, now! The way I showed you! Push hard! Don’t stop!” My voice was shrill with terror, completely out of control. A woman holding a child, who had been glaring at me with impatience, shot to her feet. Her name was Sharon. I remembered her. Her son had a simple fever, but she’d been raising hell in the ER for two hours. “Doctor! Have you no professional ethics? My son has been waiting with a fever for two hours, and you have time to be on a personal call?” Her voice was sharp and acidic, every word a poison-tipped dart. Tears of panic were welling in my eyes. I couldn’t spare her a glance. I screamed into the phone, “Push hard! Do you hear me? Don’t stop! Whatever you do, don’t stop!” “What is this attitude?” Sharon suddenly raised her phone, the camera pointed directly at me. “This is how City General treats its patients? I’m reporting you! I’m putting this all over the news!” My eyes were bloodshot. I was practically begging. “My mother is in cardiac arrest. Can you please, just let me finish this call?” “Everyone has emergencies!” Sharon sneered, her face a mask of spiteful righteousness. “So your mom is in a rush, but my son isn’t? If my son’s brain gets damaged from this fever, are you going to take responsibility? Why is your emergency more important than his? You’re just trying to slack off!” Her words were a poisoned blade, twisting into my most vulnerable spot. Just then, the department head, Dr. Evans, arrived, drawn by the commotion. The practiced, bureaucratic smile on his face vanished the moment he saw the video Sharon was recording. He yanked me into a nearby office, the door slamming shut behind us, muffling the chaos outside. “Lena,” he began, wringing his hands, his face a mask of deep disappointment. “Look at this. The optics are terrible. Doctor-patient relations are so tense right now. You’re making the hospital look bad.” I was shaking all over, my voice choked with sobs. “Sir, my mom… she’s in cardiac arrest, I…” “That’s enough,” Dr. Evans cut me off, his tone shifting to cold and clinical. “You’re suspended, effective immediately. Come in tomorrow to handle your termination paperwork.” I looked up, incredulous, feeling as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. “What… what did you just say?” Dr. Evans avoided my eyes, his gaze fixed on a plaque of hospital regulations on the wall. “You’re not a rookie, Lena. You know how important the patient relationship is. My hands are tied. I have to placate the family.” The office door burst open. My colleague, Dr. Cole, stormed in, his face livid. “Sir! Dr. Ross has worked three straight double shifts! Her mother is dying, and you’re going to—” “Enough!” Dr. Evans waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing a fly. “This is the hospital’s decision! It’s final!” From the doorway, Sharon poked her head in, a triumphant smirk plastered across her face. “That’s more like it. A bad attitude deserves to be punished. She deserves to be unemployed.” That smile was a physical pain in my eyes. I bit my lip so hard I could taste the metallic tang of blood. Without a word, I tore off the heavy, stained white coat—the one that carried the blood and fluids of strangers—and threw it onto Dr. Evans’s pristine desk. Then, I turned and ran. “Lena!” Dr. Cole yelled after me. But I was already in the elevator. The doors slid shut, sealing me off from the world. The stark, white light of the hospital corridor was sliced into a thin line, then vanished. In the small, silent box, I leaned against the cold metal wall, the strength draining out of me all at once. And finally, the tears came. 02 I ran into Central Medical Center like a madwoman. The red light above the ICU pulsed like an ominous eye in the bleached-white hallway. Our nanny was waiting by the doors, her eyes swollen shut. Seeing me, she broke down completely. “The doctors said… they said it’s really bad…” The heavy automatic doors slid open, and a doctor in green scrubs emerged. When I saw his face, I froze. It was Mark. My ex-boyfriend. He looked at me without a flicker of emotion. The eyes that had once held so much love for me were now filled with nothing but professional detachment. “Family? You need to sign here.” His voice was flat, devoid of any feeling. My hand trembled as I took the pen. The words on the page danced and blurred before my eyes. “How… how is she?” My voice was a broken whisper. Mark’s tone was as clinical as if he were reading a weather report. “Acute myocardial infarction. She missed the golden window for resuscitation. The prognosis is not good.” My knees buckled. I had to grab the wall to keep from collapsing. “It’s my fault… it’s all my fault… I wasn’t there in time…” A tidal wave of guilt and self-loathing crashed over me. Mark watched me, a flicker of something like scorn in his eyes. “You’re a doctor, aren’t you? How did you not know your own mother had a severe heart condition?” My face was as white as a sheet. My lips moved, but no sound came out. “Her… her check-ups were always normal. I didn’t know… I really didn’t know…” “We’ll observe her for the next 24 hours,” he said, taking the signed form and turning to leave. He took two steps, then paused and looked back. His next words were spoken softly, but they landed with the force of a physical blow. “I heard you got fired from City General.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I said nothing. A corner of his mouth lifted in a sarcastic smirk. “You always said your career was more important than our relationship. Well, look at you now. You don’t have a career anymore, either.” I closed my eyes, letting the hot tears trace cold paths down my cheeks. The bench outside the ICU was hard and cold. I pulled my thin jacket tighter around me and didn’t sleep a wink. At 5 a.m., my phone lit up. It was a text from Dr. Cole. It’s all over the department. Dr. Evans singled you out in the morning meeting. Said you were a disgrace to the ER, a gross violation of professional ethics. I stared at the words, a sharp pain lancing through my heart. Another text followed. The head nurse is telling everyone in the group chat that you got what you deserved. That you were always so aloof and never fit in, and now it’s karma. A smile that was more like a grimace stretched my lips. My “aloofness” was just my refusal to play their political games, to join the gossip circles, to suck up to Dr. Evans, to sign off on unnecessary tests for patients. In their eyes, that was being stuck-up. At 8 a.m., the sun came up. The hallway began to fill with people. A few doctors I recognized from medical conferences walked past. They saw me sitting outside the ICU, but they averted their gazes and quickened their pace, pretending I wasn’t there. I even heard one of the younger nurses whisper to her friend, “Look, that’s her. The one who got fired for offending a patient’s family. She totally brought it on herself.” The whisper was quiet, but it drilled into my ears. I didn’t even have the strength to argue. My phone chimed again. A text message. It was my landlord. Lena, rent is due this month. I opened my banking app. The account balance was a glaring, negative red number. I had forgotten. The hospital had already frozen my direct deposit. The nanny brought me a bowl of steaming porridge. “Dr. Ross, you haven’t eaten since yesterday. Please, have something…” I looked at the simple millet porridge in the thermos, exactly the way my mom always made it for me after a long night shift. The tears started again, fat, uncontrollable drops splashing into the warm porridge, vanishing without a trace. My life, it seemed, had been stirred into the same messy, indistinguishable pulp. 03 On the third morning, I was still keeping vigil outside the ICU, a soulless statue carved from grief. A well-dressed, distinguished-looking man in his fifties walked toward me. The nanny saw him and jumped to her feet. “Director Finch! What are you doing here?” I recognized him. He was Dr. Alistair Finch, the president of the prestigious Sterling Institute, and one of my mother’s old university classmates. Dr. Finch’s gaze settled on me, his deep-set eyes full of sympathy. “I heard about what happened with your mother. Lena, my dear, are you alright?” I managed to pull the corners of my mouth into a stiff smile. “Thank you for your concern, Dr. Finch.” He dispensed with the pleasantries and got straight to the point. “Lena, I want you to come work for me at The Sterling Institute. Three hundred and fifty thousand a year, your own private clinic, and you can build your own team.” I was stunned, my mind struggling to process his words. “Dr. Finch, in my current situation…” “I know you were fired,” he interrupted, his voice steady and firm. “But I’m hiring you for your skill as a physician, not for a work history that has been unjustly destroyed.” I shook my head, my voice hoarse. “Right now… I can’t even think about that…” Dr. Finch suddenly lowered his voice, and what he said next made the blood freeze in my veins. “Don’t you want to know why your mother’s heart condition suddenly became so critical?” My head snapped up. I stared at him. “What… what do you mean?” “She’s been getting her arrhythmia medication from City General for a long time, correct?” Dr. Finch’s gaze was sharp. “I’ve reviewed her chart. She had a minor arrhythmia. It should never have progressed to full cardiac arrest.” My breathing quickened. A terrible thought began to form. “But… but all her recent check-ups were normal!” Dr. Finch looked at me pointedly. “Normal check-up reports, but an abnormal reaction to her medication. Lena, the pharmaceutical procurement at City General… it’s a corrupt system.” All the color drained from my face. I remembered. My mother had been complaining recently that the hospital’s medication made her feel worse, that her heart raced more after taking it than before. At the time, I dismissed it as a side effect. I told her to give it time. How could I have been so careless? “If you want to find the truth, you need a platform, one that isn’t controlled by City General’s politics,” Dr. Finch said, his words like a key unlocking the door to vengeance in my heart. “My institute can give you that platform.” I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. The sharp pain brought me a terrifying clarity. “I accept,” I said. My voice was quiet, but each word was laced with ice. Dr. Finch nodded, satisfied. “Good. Come in tomorrow to sign the contract. I’ve already had it drawn up.” He turned to leave, then paused. “By the way,” he added. “The head of procurement at City General, a Director Jennings, just booked a twenty-thousand-dollar executive health screening package for his entire family at our institute last week.” I drew a sharp, ragged breath. Director Jennings’s salary was barely six figures. Where did he get that kind of money? In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty: what happened to my mother was no accident. It was an attack. I looked through the thick glass of the ICU window at my mother, lying motionless, a tangle of tubes keeping her alive. I made a silent vow. Whoever did this to her, I would make them pay. In blood. 04 The Sterling Institute was a gleaming thirty-two-story tower of glass and steel in the city’s most affluent district, a modern temple of medicine. There was none of the crowding, chaos, or despair of City General. Here, there was only quiet, light, and a reassuring sense of order. The head of HR showed me to my new office. “Dr. Ross, this is your private clinic. Two thousand square feet, fully equipped with the latest diagnostic technology imported from Germany.” I stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the river of traffic below. It felt like another world. Just three days ago, I was fighting with a patient’s family over a single gurney in an ER so cramped you could barely turn around. The HR manager handed me a beautifully bound contract. “Dr. Ross, your base salary is three hundred and fifty thousand, with quarterly bonuses and project-based incentives. All benefits are at the highest tier.” I signed my name, “Lena Ross.” The nib of the pen scratched against the paper. It felt unreal, like a dream too good to be true. Meanwhile, back at City General, the head nurse was showing her phone to Dr. Evans. “Sir, look. That woman, Lena Ross, went to Sterling. I heard they’re paying her three hundred and fifty grand a year,” she said, her voice dripping with envy. Dr. Evans took a sip from his thermos and sneered. “Private hospitals are all smoke and mirrors. They’ll say anything to create buzz. Who does she think she is, some kind of miracle worker? Just wait. See how long she lasts.” Across town, in a neighborhood online group, Sharon was bragging about her “victory.” “You guys, that super rude doctor I told you about? I got her fired! That’s how you deal with these people who take your money and don’t do their jobs!” The chat filled with likes and supportive comments. “You go, Sharon! Someone had to teach them a lesson!” “Exactly! We’re the customers! They’re supposed to provide a service! If they have a bad attitude, they shouldn’t be doctors!” Sharon beamed at her phone screen, then hugged her son and kissed his cheek. “See, baby? Mommy will always stand up for you.” She was so absorbed in her triumph that she didn’t notice the unnatural flush on her son’s face. Back at the Sterling Institute. Dr. Finch knocked and entered my office. “Lena, this is your team. Three assistants.” Three young people stood behind him. One of them, a young woman, saw me and gasped. “Dr. Ross!” I recognized her. It was Mia, one of my former medical students. “Mia? What are you doing here?” Mia shuffled her feet, embarrassed. “Dr. Ross, I… I was also ‘let go’ from City General…” A warmth spread through my chest. I walked over and patted her shoulder. “It’s alright. You’re with me now. We’re going to do great work here.” The other two assistants, both recent graduates, introduced themselves, their eyes shining with respect. That afternoon, my first consult request arrived. A VIP patient, the chairman of a major local corporation. He’d had a persistent high fever for three weeks, had been to every major hospital in the city, and undergone countless tests, all inconclusive. I studied the thick file of medical records, my brow furrowing. “Let me see the patient,” I said to Mia. In the hospital room, the family crowded around me, their faces etched with anxiety. A middle-aged woman with red-rimmed eyes grabbed my arm. “Doctor, please, you have to save my father! Money is no object!” I approached the bed. The patient was semi-conscious, his breathing shallow. I began a thorough physical examination. As my fingers touched his fingertips, I noticed a subtle detail that had clearly been overlooked—slight clubbing at the ends of his fingers. The name of an extremely rare but highly fatal disease flashed in my mind. I looked up, my voice firm and unwavering. “Prep for a bronchoscopy, now. And run a serum G-test and GM-test, stat!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387096”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

It was the ninth year since I’d left my small town behind. I was scrolling through a viral social media post when a comment caught my eye. The tone was smug, dripping with self-satisfaction. “My son was dating an ordinary girl back in the day. I didn’t stop them, just used a little trick to ruin her. He watched his own girlfriend fall apart and broke up with her out of disappointment. Now he’s successful and close to home. I suppose it’s what any great mother would do.” Jimmy Vance’s mother. After all these years, she was still proud of tearing us apart. The post had blown up, flooded with arguments and outrage. But I just turned off my phone, a calm emptiness inside me. It all happened so long ago. Then, I looked up and saw him. In a hospital consultation room, wearing a doctor’s white coat. Jimmy. I froze for a heartbeat. Then, with a heavy limp, I walked into the room and handed him my appointment slip. “Doctor,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m here to schedule an abortion.” 1. He recognized me instantly. Jimmy’s gaze faltered, then dropped to the paper in his hand. “Your health is fragile,” he said, his voice professional but strained. “An abortion could have serious complications. Are you sure about this?” Years had passed, but Jimmy was the same as ever—radiant, seemingly untouched by the world’s harshness. His mother had protected him well, shielding him from any real suffering. The old me would have slapped him across the face, screaming at him for the hypocrisy. I would have told him that what I’d become was all because of him and his mother. But years of torment and medication had blunted my emotions, leaving only a deep, weary numbness. I met his gaze calmly. “Yes. I’d like to schedule the procedure as soon as possible, Dr. Vance. Is that possible?” The earlier, the less damage to my body. I had debts to pay, and I needed to get back to work. Jimmy stood half in shadow, his expression unreadable. “Why? Is your husband not good to you?” I frowned, realizing his assumption. But I didn’t bother to correct him. He was nothing to me now. After this, our paths would never cross again. Seeing my silence, he said no more. After a quick examination, he scheduled the surgery for that same day. The cold needle slid into my arm, and my consciousness began to drift into a hazy fog. Just as the preparations were finishing, a young nurse hurried in and whispered something in Jimmy’s ear. He didn’t hesitate for a second. He turned and left the room. “Dr. Vance is such a good husband,” one of the nurses murmured. “His wife has a little cold and he’s already so worried.” “I know, right?” the other chimed in. “Not like the one on the table. Coming in alone for an abortion, with no one by her side. You know what that means.” My eyelids fluttered, but I couldn’t force them open. I wanted to scream, to defend myself. I wasn’t some slut. I was once the love of Jimmy’s life. It was the summer after sophomore year. I met Jimmy when he was shipped off to our sleepy little town. He was the son from his father’s affair, an outcast. No one wanted anything to do with him. But my parents, bless their bleeding hearts, felt sorry for the lonely boy and always had me bring him food. Maybe it was out of gratitude for their kindness, but Jimmy’s attitude toward me softened, becoming gentle, almost indulgent. He never said no to me. Anything I wanted, he’d move heaven and earth to get it. My friends noticed how close we were getting. “He’s the son of a mistress,” one of them whispered to me. “He’s dirty. You shouldn’t hang out with him.” But it wasn’t his fault he was born that way. My face hardened. “You can’t say that about him. Jimmy is a good person—the kindest person I’ve ever met.” I might have exaggerated a little, trying to defend his name. My friend nudged me, and I turned. Jimmy was standing there, his eyes red and glistening. Suddenly flustered, I ran off. That evening, as I was walking home from school, Jimmy followed me like he always did. But just as we left the school gates, he gently took my hand. “Ava,” he said, his voice soft. “Thank you. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, too.” My face flushed, but I didn’t pull away. I let our hands stay intertwined, the warmth slowly seeping into my skin. Jimmy and I were together. He promised he would love me forever. We would go to the same college, buy a small apartment, and get two cats. On my eighteenth birthday, Jimmy was late. Alone, I closed my eyes and made that wish. Late that night, I heard the door to the house next door open. “Jimmy, you missed my…” My words died in my throat. Standing behind him was a woman. She smiled warmly and extended a hand. “You must be Ava, right? I’m Jimmy’s mother.” She was gentle, nothing like the wicked woman people made her out to be. She gave me expensive gifts, spoke to me in honeyed tones, and brought me pretty little pastries every day. She even introduced me to her friends. We were in a private room at an upscale club. It was filled with leering, middle-aged men. A knot of fear tightened in my stomach. But Jimmy’s mother firmly pushed me down onto the sofa. “This is my son’s girlfriend, Ava,” she announced to the room. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Every eye in the room landed on me. Their slimy gazes made my skin crawl. “Ma’am, I still have homework to do. I should probably get going.” But one of the men grabbed the hem of my skirt, his hand even starting to creep higher. I shoved him, desperate, and earned a sharp slap across the face. My cheek burned instantly, a ringing sound echoing in my ears. “Don’t play innocent,” he sneered. “You only got with Jimmy for his money, right? Well, I’ve got money too. Why don’t you come with me?” He yanked me up and pulled me onto his lap. “No! Let me go!” I struggled, my eyes frantically searching for Jimmy’s mother. She just sat there, watching with cold indifference. I tried to escape, but I was no match for a grown man’s strength. They held me down, pouring glass after glass of liquor down my throat. The alcohol soaked the front of my shirt, turning the fabric translucent. My head spun. They grabbed my chin, snapping pictures of me. “The little bitch is actually pretty cute. No wonder Jimmy likes her.” Through the haze, I saw the look of disgust in his mother’s eyes. “She’s not good enough for Jimmy,” she said. “He has much better options in his future.” Then she added, “Alright, that’s enough. Stop playing around.” I didn’t understand what she meant, but I felt them arranging my body into a compromising position. The next second, the door flew open. “Ava… what are you doing?” Jimmy stood frozen in the doorway, staring at me—disheveled, sprawled against another man. I couldn’t speak. His mother helped me up. “Jimmy, don’t blame Ava,” she said sweetly. “Girls… they see a man with money and they’re tempted to take shortcuts. But don’t worry, your uncles here are decent men. They knew she was your girlfriend, so they didn’t touch her.” In a few short sentences, she had painted me as a shameless, money-grubbing whore. I choked back a sob. “No, that’s not what happened…” Jimmy didn’t say a word. He walked over to me and roughly wiped the liquor from my lips. I grabbed his hand, trembling. “Jimmy, it’s not like that. I didn’t do anything. Your mom made those men force me to drink. Please, believe me.” His face was shrouded in shadow, his expression impossible to read. “Mom,” he said, his voice tight. “Don’t bring her to places like this again.” He didn’t answer me. He just turned, put me on his back, and carried me out of the room. “Jimmy, it wasn’t what your mom said. She’s trying to break us up.” The night air was cold, making my voice tremble. He was silent for a long time. “Ava,” he finally said. “From what I’ve seen, my mom has been very good to you.” On that long walk home, he didn’t say another word. I knew. He believed her. The next morning, Jimmy didn’t wait for me. I rushed to school, desperate to explain. But when I got there, all my classmates were staring at me with strange expressions. Especially the boys. A thug with bleached-blond hair walked up to me. He hooked a finger under my bra strap and snapped it hard against my skin. “Come back again sometime,” he said with a smirk. “My buddies and I had a great time.” He threw a handful of photos on the ground. They scattered everywhere. The looks from my classmates turned from curiosity to contempt. Jimmy stood silently in the crowd, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions. Shaking, I grabbed my thermos from my desk and threw it at the thug’s head. “You’re lying! I’m calling the cops!” Blood streamed down his face. His expression turned vicious. “You little bitch,” he snarled. “You were enjoying yourself last night, weren’t you? Put your clothes on and suddenly you don’t know us?” “You’re lying!” I screamed. Just then, Jimmy stepped forward. He grabbed my arm, his grip like steel. “That’s enough!” he hissed. “Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?” I stared at him, stunned. “He’s the one bullying me! Am I supposed to just let him slander me?” Jimmy’s eyes were dark. “If you hadn’t been so careless with yourself, would they even have a chance to slander you?” I froze. Looking at him, he felt like a stranger. Like I had never known him at all. I slapped him, hard. He turned his head to the side, slowly releasing his grip on my arm. “Ava, are you going to act like a saint after playing the whore? My mom and her friends all said you were the one who came onto them. Are you telling me every single one of them is lying?” His words sealed my fate. I became the class pariah. They called me names, stuffed trash in my desk, and scrawled obscenities on my uniform. I buried myself in my studies, pouring all my energy into getting into a good college. Late at night, I would lie in bed and tell myself it would be okay. Just get to college. Just get away from here. Jimmy’s mother was still as sweet to me as ever, but seeing her filled me with dread. “Ava, why have you been ignoring Jimmy lately? He’s been so heartbroken.” I finally found the courage to look her in the eye. “Ma’am, we’ve already broken up. Please stop targeting me.” A smirk played on her lips. “Your breakup means nothing. Jimmy is still completely devoted to you. But don’t worry. I’ll make him watch you rot, piece by piece. Then, he’ll finally give up on you.” Her threats, combined with the relentless bullying from my classmates, pushed me to the edge of a breakdown. My parents noticed something was wrong and wanted to talk. But before we could, there was a knock on the door. It was Jimmy’s mother, asking to borrow some salt. My dad went to the kitchen. My mom glanced at her phone, handed me my backpack, and pushed me out the door. “You’re going to be late. Go on to school. We’ll talk tonight.” I was on edge all day. After school, I practically ran home. Our house was surrounded by a crowd of people. The unease in my chest exploded into full-blown panic. I shoved my way through the onlookers, my hands trembling. And then I saw it. My father and Jimmy’s mother, tangled together, their clothes in disarray. My dad’s face was ashen, with bright red scratches on his skin. The woman was sobbing pitifully. “How could you do this to me? This is rape! I’m calling the police!” Jimmy threw his school jacket over them, his gaze sweeping over my family with dark contempt. “I thought you were good people,” he spat. “Turns out you’re the most disgusting of all!” My father’s lips trembled. “No… I didn’t do it…” But no one believed him. Not even my mother. She just stood there, humbly apologizing to Jimmy’s mother. The neighbors pointed and whispered. I stood frozen in the crowd, and in that moment, I saw a flicker of triumph in his mother’s eyes. After they left, my mother screamed and hit my father. He kept denying it, but the evidence was overwhelming. It ended with my mother demanding a divorce. I cried, begging her on my father’s behalf. “It has to be Jimmy’s mom! She’s setting him up! Mom, don’t fall for it…” My mother slapped me across the face. “How could I have raised a daughter who can’t tell right from wrong?” The house became a war zone of endless arguments. Jimmy told everyone at school that my father had raped his mother. On top of “whore” and “slut,” I now had a new title: daughter of a rapist. Eventually, the fighting at home subsided. It was as if nothing had ever happened. On the last day of my final exams, my dad gave me a brand-new phone. “Ava,” he said, his voice heavy. “Study hard. Live a good life.” The past few months had left me numb and exhausted, but I managed a small smile. “Thanks, Dad.” I thought they had reconciled. I ignored the deep pain in his eyes. The next day, I went to the exam center. Before I could even walk in, my phone rang. It was our neighbor. “Ava, you have to come home! Your dad jumped off the building, and your mom is trying to kill herself!” My legs gave out from under me. I scrambled home, stumbling and falling. My mom had turned on all the gas stoves in the house and was about to light a match. I screamed, trying to drag her out. But it was too late. The gas exploded. Everything went black. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. My whole body ached, but I couldn’t feel my left arm at all. Our neighbor looked at me with pity in her eyes. “Ava, don’t look. Your arm… it was too badly injured. They had to amputate.” I struggled to sit up. “My parents? Where are they?” She turned away, unable to meet my eyes. But I knew. They were gone. In the end, I had nothing left.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387095”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 It was the fifth year since I’d cut all ties with my family. I saw them again at the prison gates. They were there for my sister’s first day of work as a corrections officer. I was there because I was an inmate being released. When they saw me, my parents froze, a wave of awkwardness washing over them. After a tense silence, my mother spoke first. “Luna… when we asked you to take the fall for your sister, we truly had no other choice.” “We never thought you’d actually cut us off, that you wouldn’t even call us once from inside…” I sidestepped her outstretched hand, grabbed the last of my things, and turned to leave. As I passed, my father grabbed my sleeve, his eyes red. “Luna! It’s been five years! Are you going to hold onto this forever? Is this how you treat your parents and your sister?” “Whatever you have to say, you can say it at home. It’s not like you have anywhere else to go…” What was there to say? I was no longer that desperate little girl, starved for her parents’ affection. Besides… My gaze shifted to a car parked a short distance away. I pulled my arm free. “I have somewhere to go. My family is waiting for me.” … When I pulled away, my father’s temper flared. “Luna Reed! Did five years in prison rot your brain? You won’t even acknowledge your own mother and father?!” “Still as stubborn as ever! You’re not half as likable as Stella!” His voice was so loud that a few of the officers glanced our way, the atmosphere turning thick with embarrassment. My mother quickly patted his arm, urging him to calm down. “Quiet down. You’ll make a bad impression on Stella’s colleagues.” She turned back to me, forcing a smile, her voice laced with a careful, placating tone. “Luna, you know your father’s temper. Don’t take it to heart.” “You haven’t contacted us all these years… did you really think we were going to let you go to prison?” “You’re our daughter too, silly girl. If you had just answered our calls instead of choosing prison, we would have hired the best lawyers to get you out of it.” Her eyes welled up, and she looked like a heartbroken, helpless mother. She seemed to have forgotten that I hadn’t done anything wrong in the first place. The crime was a lie they had fabricated to protect my sister, Stella. I took a step back, my voice calm and even. “Don’t trouble yourselves. The day you asked me to take the blame for Stella, we stopped being a family.” My words made my father’s face darken. “Look at her! Just look at that miserable face! How did we raise such an ungrateful child?!” He raised his hand to strike me, but the ringing of his phone cut him off. He answered it immediately. Stella’s lazy voice drifted from the speaker. “Dad, I’m done with my paperwork. Bring the car around to the West Gate. The main entrance is too far, I can’t be bothered to walk.” “Okay, okay, we’re on our way.” My mother tried to smooth things over. “You see, Luna? Stella is still so lazy…” “Come with us to pick up your sister. It’s her first day, she’s so excited.” “We’re family, there’s no grudge we can’t get over, right? Come on, come home with us…” “Enough!” I couldn’t stand another second of their family drama. I turned to leave. But she grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. I was only ninety pounds now, and the force of her pull sent me stumbling to the ground. My mother stared down at me, her lips parting as if to say something, but no words came out. Even my father was stunned by my gaunt appearance. “Were you a picky eater in there? How did you get so thin…?” A picky eater? What a joke. In their eyes, Stella, with her bipolar disorder, was a fragile porcelain doll. I, the healthy daughter, was supposed to be tough as nails. So every time Stella made a mistake, I was the one who took the punishment. Stella put a bug in the principal’s water bottle. They were afraid the punishment would trigger an episode, so I was the one publicly reprimanded in front of the whole school. Stella’s bullying almost got another student killed. I took the fall, became the ringleader, and lost every friend I had. Until the last time, when Stella committed the ultimate crime… That was the first time I refused to take the blame for her. My reward was a sharp slap from my father. The blow ruptured my eardrum. To this day, I can’t hear a thing out of that ear. Five years had passed. Stella had graduated from the police academy with flying colors. A bright future ahead of her. How nice. I looked at them coldly. “Go back with you? And then what? You really want me back as your daughter?” “If people find out Stella has a convicted felon for a sister, your precious daughter’s career might be over before it even begins.” Their faces went pale. Stella called again, her voice growing more impatient. They looked torn, but in the end, they got in the car and left. After picking her up, their familiar black sedan drove past the main gate again. As they passed, I could hear their cheerful laughter drifting out of the window. A friendly officer I knew walked over. “Our new colleague’s family seems so close,” he said. “Last time her parents were here, they treated us all to dinner and bought her new clothes, just to make sure we’d look out for her.” “By the way,” he added, “I saw you talking to them for a while. Do you know them?” I couldn’t help but smile a little. “I do.” “Once upon a time, I was their child, too.” The officer’s eyes widened. He probably couldn’t comprehend how two children from the same family could end up on opposite sides of the law—one a criminal, the other an officer. A long, long time ago, I was also cherished by that man and woman. Every day after work, my father would go out of his way to wait in line at a bakery on the other side of town. He would carefully tuck the still-warm cake inside his coat, afraid it would get cold on the way home. Every night, my mother would sit by my bed and whisper stories until I fell asleep. Her phone’s photo album was filled with pictures of me—every smile, every tear. In every photo, the three of us were huddled together, with me safely in the middle, as they told me over and over again: “Luna will always be Mommy and Daddy’s most precious baby!” Even after my sister was born, their love for me never wavered. But Stella was a handful from the start. One day she’d be hitting other kids, the next she’d be getting hit herself. My parents were constantly cleaning up her messes, but they were also worried I would feel neglected. To keep things “fair,” every time they had to focus on Stella, they would buy me a gift. Then, when Stella was seven, she jumped from a second-story window at her school without any warning. It happened on the day my parents missed picking her up because they had come to my parent-teacher conference instead. My mother, her eyes red from crying, told me, “Your sister is sick. From now on, we have to spend more time watching her. Otherwise, something terrible will happen. Luna, you’re the older sister. Can you understand?” My father’s voice was hoarse. “Luna, you’re her big sister. You need to help us take care of her.” I wanted to help them, to ease their burden. I nodded without hesitation. “I’ll take good care of my sister!” I was too young then. I didn’t know what bipolar disorder was, and I didn’t understand the weight of the words “take care of your sister.” I never imagined that those few simple words would completely shatter my life. At first, “taking care of her” just meant giving up my own toys when Stella started hitting other kids to get what she wanted, and then apologizing on her behalf. But soon, she learned to use her illness as a weapon. Whenever she wanted something, she would throw things, hit people, or, in more extreme cases, threaten to hurt herself or jump off buildings. My role shifted from apologizing for her to taking the blame for her, to taking the fall for her crimes. My life became expendable in the face of hers. My parents’ attention shifted almost entirely to Stella. Then came my birthday. I used the first paycheck from my part-time college job to buy a cake and had carefully chosen gifts for them. I lit the candles and waited. The candles burned down. Midnight came and went. My phone remained silent. I drifted off to sleep on the sofa. The sound of the door opening woke me. I forced a smile, ready to give them their gifts. But before I could speak, my father, his face etched with frustration, cut me off. “What time is it?! Your sister is in serious trouble, and you’re at home eating cake?!” He swiped his arm across the table, sending the cake crashing to the floor. Seeing the ruined cake, my mother broke down, sobbing. “What are we going to do? Stella has bipolar disorder! She’ll kill herself if she’s away from us! She’s still so young…” Suddenly, her eyes landed on me. “Luna, Mom is begging you. Please, help your sister one last time.” “What is it?” A sense of dread washed over me, my voice trembling. “Take the blame for your sister…” My mother glanced at my father. Stella peeked out from behind him, crying harder than I had ever seen her, her body shaking uncontrollably. My mind went blank. “What… what did she do?” “Stella… her homeroom teacher said a few words to her, and she… she pushed the teacher down,” my mother stammered. “And then what?” My father closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “The teacher was eight months pregnant… She and the baby… they both died.” A roar filled my ears. I swayed on my feet, struggling to find my voice. “So… what do you want me to do?” My mother gripped my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “Luna, will you take the blame for her? Please?” “We’ve already looked into it. The lightest sentence for something like this is juvenile detention. Stella’s condition is severe. She’ll die in a place like that! Her life is just beginning!” “As for college, we’ll help you file for withdrawal later. And don’t worry, we’ll spend every last penny to get you the best lawyer. We’ll get you out.” I stared at her in disbelief, my legs weak. “And what about me? I worked so hard to get into my dream university! Is my life just disposable?!” “How could you think that?” My mother looked wounded. “Your sister is sick! You’re her older sister, isn’t it your duty to take care of her? You can forget about college. We’ll support you for the rest of your life! Once this is over, it won’t affect your life at all!” I stared at her, my eyes burning, and screamed, “This is one thing I can’t help you with!” Stella burst into tears. My father rushed forward and slapped me across the face. The force of the blow knocked me to the ground. A warm, wet sensation filled my ear. I touched it. My hand came away covered in blood. Seeing my defiance, Stella’s eyes darted around, and she ran for the balcony, wailing. “My sister won’t even help me! I don’t want to live anymore! My life is over anyway!” My parents, thinking she was having an episode, panicked and rushed to grab her, swearing they would fix everything. “Stella, don’t be scared! Mommy and Daddy will take care of it! We’ll solve this!” I watched them frantically console her, and I mumbled, “So in this family, all you have to do is threaten suicide to get what you want? What if I kill myself? What would you do then?” The answer came in the form of a water glass flying at my head and my father’s impatient roar. “Your sister is sick! What are you comparing yourself to her for?! The only reason she got this illness is because we spent all our time focusing on you and neglected her!” The glass shattered against my head. Liquid and blood streamed down my face. And with that, the last shred of hope I had for them died. They locked me in my room and took my phone. Through the door, I could hear them cooing over Stella. My head was splitting open. Everything I touched was slick with blood. The blood from my head, from my ear, smeared all over my face. I pounded on the door, crying for help, but my pleas were drowned out by Stella’s hysterics. I could only watch as the light under the door went out, as silence fell, as my consciousness faded into darkness. When I woke up again, the media had already branded me a killer. The university had sent my official notice of expulsion. The day I was expelled was also Stella’s birthday. My parents said that Stella’s birthday only comes once a year and couldn’t be missed. Meanwhile, I was curled up in my room, clutching my deafened ear, as I read the news of my conviction and expulsion. I tried to defend myself. But the online comments crushed any hope I had. “She pushed a pregnant teacher and now she’s trying to frame her own sister to get out of it?” “A murderer is a murderer.” They had even paid off the victim’s family and the witnesses. Everyone told the same story, all pointing their fingers at me. In my darkest moment, I saw their post on social media, celebrating Stella’s birthday. In the photo, my father was peeling shrimp for her. Everyone was smiling. Like a ghost, I liked the post. My phone rang instantly. It was my father, shouting. “It’s Stella’s birthday! Did you have to ruin it?!” Years of pent-up grief and anger exploded. “What did I ever do wrong?” I sobbed. “Why are you doing this to me?!” The only answer I got was the sound of Stella in the background, demanding her presents as they cut the cake. “Stella’s been in a bad mood lately. It’s her birthday, so you better get her a gift, and fast. Otherwise, she won’t forgive you.” That was all they said before hanging up. A moment later, my phone was flooded with calls from unknown numbers. “Go die, you bitch!” “An animal like you deserves to pay with your life!” The news online kept updating. “Even after all this, her parents are still trying to protect her. They’ve hired multiple lawyers to try and reduce her sentence.” “That ungrateful monster doesn’t deserve such a good family.” As I finished my story, the air in the prison yard grew still. The officer’s face was a mask of disbelief. “Are there really parents like that in the world? That’s not something a family does!” I nodded, my voice devoid of emotion. “That’s why I cut ties with them. I’ve already gathered all the evidence to overturn my case. Once my name is cleared, I can go back to college and…” Splat. A piece of cake flew through the air and hit me square in the face. I wiped the cream from my eyes, my hand now sticky and messy, just like my life. My father, his eyes blazing red, rushed toward me and slapped me again, his voice a furious roar. “And here I was, feeling guilty about your birthday, thinking I’d make it up to you with a cake.” “Luna Reed! How did we raise such a monster?! Are you determined to drive your sister to her death?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387094”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day Andy Blackwood tried to force me into a divorce for that actress—again—I finally gave in. His hand, holding a cigarette, paused mid-air. A half-smile, mocking and cold, played on his lips. “What’s this? So compliant this time?” he drawled. “Realized throwing tantrums gets you nowhere? Trying a new tactic, are we?” I slid the wedding band from my finger and placed it on the table between us. My voice was steady. “No. I’m just done fighting.” 1 A long silence stretched between us before Andy stubbed out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray. Leaning back against the wall, he spoke with a lazy, calculated drawl. “You know, there’s no real rush. It’s just… Lily’s career is taking off right now. And your constant harassment is becoming a real nuisance.” I didn’t answer him. Instead, I picked up the pen and, with deliberate, steady strokes, signed my name on the divorce papers. Only then did I look up. “Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.” Andy’s posture tensed for a fraction of a second, his thoughts hidden behind that cool facade. After a moment, he pushed himself off the wall, a new, barely perceptible edge of irritation in his voice. “Good. See that it doesn’t. Otherwise… you know the consequences.” An involuntary shiver ran down my spine. The last time he’d pushed for a divorce, I’d completely shattered. In a fit of rage and despair, I’d leaked the explicit photos Lily had sent to taunt me. But Andy had turned the tables, suing me for defamation. His fans had doxxed me, forcing me into a humiliating public apology. I remembered standing in the courtroom, listening to the verdict in his favor. Andy had watched my breakdown with the detached amusement of a spectator at a show. Then, with a raised eyebrow, he’d leaned in and whispered, “Darling, are you satisfied with the outcome?” It’s strange. The memory used to suffocate me, a crushing weight of pain and humiliation. But now, thinking back on it, I felt nothing but a cold, distant irony. As I walked out of the mansion with my suitcase in hand, I glanced down at the plane ticket. It was only then that the full weight of it hit me. I was finally letting go of the love that had brought me to my knees. 2 On a massive billboard towering over the city square, Lily was the face of a luxury lipstick brand, her smile confident and dazzling. The image merged with the memory of the spiteful girl who had clawed her way into my life, flashing her victory in my face. Andy had been right about one thing: Lily’s career was skyrocketing. The scandal with the explicit photos hadn’t hurt her. If anything, it had helped. Fans praised her for her ‘brazen honesty,’ hailing her as some kind of modern, empowered icon. But the first time I discovered Andy’s affair, it wasn’t from the tabloids. It was from Lily herself, a deliberate, vicious provocation. I had raised hell, making sure the entire Blackwood clan knew about his sordid affair. In those days, the other society wives, my supposed friends, all offered the same advice. Be gracious. Forgive and forget. Turn a blind eye. But I couldn’t. The hate was a poison in my veins. I hated Andy for his betrayal, but I hated him even more for turning me into this hysterical, screaming madwoman, while he paraded his mistress around town without a care in the world. I refused to give in. I refused to let them win. Then the paparazzi caught them checking into a hotel. The story exploded. To protect Lily’s reputation and career, Andy made a calculated move: he went public with their relationship. The tabloids splashed their fairytale romance all over the headlines: ‘The Tycoon’s Heir and the Silver Screen Starlet.’ The story broke me. I stormed into Andy’s corporate office, a woman possessed. He tried to get Lily out of there before the scene got ugly, but that only fueled my rage. I snatched an ashtray and hurled it at him, splitting his forehead open. Blood streamed down his face as I screamed that he was scum, filth from the gutter. When it was all over, his face was a cold mask. “You’re right!” he finally spat out. “I am scum! I did cheat! If you can’t handle it, then divorce me!” The word hung in the air between us, stunning us both into silence. But I was the one who broke it, my voice rising to a new, wilder pitch. “Why should I divorce you?!” I shrieked, more unhinged than ever before. “Why should I make it easy for you and that little tramp?! No, Andy. You and she can live with the titles you’ve earned: adulterer and mistress. Forever.” 3 We were at a standoff after that. Andy stopped coming home altogether. The only glimpses I had of his life were through Lily’s smug Instagram posts, each one a perfectly curated new stab to my heart. Beaten down from every side, I made a desperate, last-ditch decision to burn it all to the ground. I posted our marriage certificate online, exposing their affair for the lie it was. But before the story could even gain traction, Andy struck back. He found my mother’s specialist, a renowned doctor, and paid him an exorbitant sum to cancel his trip from Europe, effectively holding her life-saving treatment hostage. Then he gave me an ultimatum: tell the world the marriage certificate was a fake, or my mother would pay the price. When I heard the news, the blood drained from my face. I was so stunned I didn’t even register the triumphant smirk on Lily’s face as she stood beside him. My voice was a ragged, broken cry. “Andy, you know her condition is critical! You know this could kill her! How could you be so cruel?” He remained unmoved, calmly lighting another cigarette. He waited until my sobs subsided and I was nothing more than a crumpled heap on the sofa. Only then did he extinguish the flame. “Darling,” he said, his voice deceptively soft. “Don’t ever expect me to go easy on you. Now, go and clear this up. Don’t ruin her.” In that moment, my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. I was drowning, a fish gasping for air on dry land, suffocating in a world of absolute despair. I couldn’t believe the man standing before me was the same one I had once loved with my entire soul. That was the day I truly decided it was over. 4 But the humiliation was far from finished. My mother couldn’t wait. I had no choice but to surrender. I went online and confessed to the world that the marriage certificate was a fake, that I was a jealous, delusional liar. To this day, the comment section of that post is a cesspool of hatred. “Damn lady, are you that desperate for a man?!” “Psycho bitch. Dare to spread rumors that my goddess is a mistress. You’ve got no shame.” “Someone slap some sense into her.” “Crowdfunding it. I’ve got five bucks.” “I’ll put in ten.” … I walked through the following days in a haze, a zombie going through the motions. I escaped into the sterile quiet of the hospital, sitting by my mother’s bedside. Perhaps she sensed my despair. Even without seeing the news, she knew something was deeply wrong. One afternoon, she took my hand and, with a heavy sigh, began to talk about the past, about Andy and me. A young love, she called it, the purest kind. In high school, Andy had been so smitten with me, yet so insecure, he’d never dared to confess. He’d just follow me home from a distance every day, my silent protector. Then came the day a group of thugs cornered me. Andy threw himself between us without a second thought. They beat him mercilessly, breaking three of his ribs, but he never let go, shielding me with his own body. After that, we fell in love. It was as natural as breathing. Back then, Andy hadn’t been a Blackwood yet. He was just the poor kid who lived with his grandmother, the ‘charity case’ who never had enough to eat. It was my mother who helped him, who treated him like a son, who even paid his tuition fees. Now, my mother’s past kindness was the weapon he was using against her. She had no idea what her daughter was enduring. I looked at her face, growing more frail each day, and thought, Just let it be. At least I still have her. At least I’m not completely alone. But fate, it seems, takes a cruel pleasure in tormenting the unfortunate. 5 When the call came from the hospital—my mother was in critical condition—I ran, frantic. But I didn’t even make it off my street. Lily’s fans were waiting for me. They’d doxxed me, found my address, and now they surrounded me, a self-righteous mob demanding justice for their idol. I couldn’t break through. Panic clawed at my throat as I tried to explain, my words lost in their jeers. No one believed me. “Pathetic. Still living in your little fantasy world, aren’t you?” “You were so tough when you were slandering our goddess. Who are you crying for now?” In the chaos, someone shoved me hard. “Shameless bitch! Apologize now!” I stumbled and fell hard onto the pavement. Someone snickered. The sharp pain in my knee was nothing compared to the crushing defeat in my soul. I gave up. Like a marionette with its strings cut, I got to my knees and began to apologize to their phone cameras, over and over again. “It was my fault. I was delusional.” “I’m so sorry. I hurt Lily. I was wrong.” “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Their crusade won, the mob finally dispersed, laughing as they walked away. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” But by the time I scrambled into a cab and raced to the hospital, it was too late. For a dizzying second, I thought I was trapped in a long nightmare. A nightmare where I would wake up and still be a little girl, safe in my mother’s arms. Before Andy. Before my life had been trampled into dust. But reality delivered its final, fatal blow. I had chosen the wrong man, and in doing so, I had missed my mother’s last moments. 6 That day, I knelt beside her bed and cried until there were no tears left, just a hollow, aching void… The nurse who had cared for my mother told me her last words. “She kept calling your name at the end,” the nurse said gently. “She said that no matter why you didn’t make it, she didn’t blame you. She just wanted you to be happy, to live a good life with your husband.” I held my mother’s cold hand, sitting numbly on the floor, unable to speak for a long, long time. The days that followed are a blur. The flight back to my hometown, the cremation, the funeral. Finally, I was sitting alone in the quiet funeral parlor. I picked up my phone and made one last call to Andy. He should at least pay his respects to the woman who had thought of him, even on her deathbed. When he answered, I realized my voice was a raw, unrecognizable croak. “My mother passed away,” I managed to say. But the voice that answered wasn’t his. It was Lily, her tone bright and carefree. “Oh, congratulations!” she chirped. “But Andy’s a little busy right now. We’re at his ultrasound appointment.” In the background, I heard Andy’s muffled voice. “Who is it?” I hung up, my hand going numb. I sat there in the silent hall all night, watching the incense burn down to ash. Then, I calmly flew back to the city. I bought a plane ticket. Liquidated my assets. And I agreed to the divorce. 7 The past was finally in the past. Sitting in the airport lounge, waiting for my flight to board, I launched my final counterattack. I was never one to go down without a fight. I packaged up the corporate intel I’d gathered and sent it straight to Andy’s biggest competitor. A moment later, a notification confirmed a very large sum of money had been deposited into my offshore account. Only then did I feel a sense of peace. Online, the storm of hate against me was still raging. On any social media platform, you could find my face photoshopped into grotesque memes. And Lily’s post, the one playing the victim, was still pinned to the top of her profile, from the day I was forced to retract my story. “LilyOfficial: The truth will always come out. You can throw all the mud you want. I’ve never been afraid of a fight!” The comments below were a chorus of sympathy. “My heart breaks for you and Andy having to deal with this psycho.” “This is what a real, strong woman looks like! The ones who use dirty tricks to ruin a girl’s reputation don’t even deserve to be called women!” “Lily is too kind. I would have sued that bitch into oblivion.” A bitter, humorless smile touched my lips. 8 Next, I bundled up every taunting message and voicemail Lily had ever sent me and forwarded them to her biggest rival in the industry. A little outsourced revenge. Just as I was about to turn off my phone for good, it rang. It was Andy. “Forgot to mention, the mandatory 30-day cooling-off period is ticking. If you’re thinking of changing your mind… it’s not out of the question. But you’ll have to do something to make me happy.” His voice was the same as always—lazy, arrogant, utterly self-assured. So certain that I could never let him go. I glanced at the boarding time on my ticket. “Got it,” I said, my voice flat. Then I hung up on him and walked onto the plane. (Andy’s POV) That was the first time Ava had ever hung up on him. Five days had passed, and Andy was still stewing. He untangled himself from Lily’s limbs, got out of bed, and pulled on a coat. He was going home to check on things. Lily wrapped her arms around him from behind, draping herself over his back. “Andy, stay a little longer,” she purred. He turned his head slightly. “Don’t say anything to Ava about the pregnancy yet.” Lily pouted. “You’re already getting a divorce. What are you so afraid of?” A flicker of irritation crossed Andy’s face. “There are still twenty-five days left. That’s not a divorce.” He pushed her away, dressed, and drove back to the house he shared with Ava. He hadn’t been back in nearly a week, and the silence was unsettling. A knot of anxiety tightened in his chest, growing worse when he saw the kitchen was pristine, completely untouched. He threw open the bedroom door and started rummaging through the closets. Finally, he found what he was looking for in the trash can. A wedding ring. The day they signed the papers, Ava had placed it on the table for him. He hadn’t taken it. Deep down, he never believed she would actually go through with it. Even if she signed, she’d come crawling back sooner or later. After all, Ava loved him. Andy picked up the ring, carefully wiping the dust from its surface. He’d bought this ring when he was nineteen, working three jobs—tutoring, construction, food delivery—for three straight months to afford it. It meant everything to him, and to her. She must have dropped it in the trash by accident. 9 Andy stood up and looked at the wedding portrait hanging on the wall. Ava was twenty-two in the photo, her smile as bright as the sun. Come to think of it, Lily was only in his life because of Ava. He could never forget the Ava who had dazzled him at eighteen, the girl who lit up his bleak world. Back then, he was poor, uncivilized, a nobody. Ava had been his entire world, his only source of warmth. Then the Blackwoods had found him. He shed the label of ‘bastard’ and was reborn as an heir, a man of power and influence. And he got the girl he’d always dreamed of. But Ava changed. She lost the carefree spirit of her youth and became just like all the other society wives—prim, proper, and painfully dull. He knew, logically, that she did it for him. She came from a simple background, and to marry him, she had to fit in, to not embarrass him. So, while he was disappointed, he still loved her. Until Lily appeared. She was so much like the old Ava, a vibrant echo of the girl he’d first fallen for. It was only natural that he’d be drawn to her. The first time he’d mentioned divorce, the words had just slipped out. He’d regretted them instantly. The other times he’d brought it up were just to scare her, to make her stop being so damn difficult. Compared to other men in his circle, he was practically a saint. He only had Lily. Ava’s histrionics were completely out of proportion. She was being ungrateful. Besides, he’d never really wanted to divorce her. As long as she behaved, showed a little more tolerance, he would eventually come back to her. He always did. Andy pulled out his phone, deciding to be the bigger person and call her. Maybe smooth things over. But the call wouldn’t connect. He’d been blocked. He frowned. That couldn’t be right. In all the years of his affair with Lily, through all their worst fights, Ava had never once blocked him. Before he could figure it out, his phone rang. It was Lily. “Andy, Ava leaked our stuff to my rival’s PR team! My socials are flooded with bots, and the narrative is starting to turn against me. What do I do, Andy? I’m so scared. How can she be so vicious? Does she really want to destroy me?” Listening to her frantic sobs, Andy’s brow furrowed in annoyance. Ava was pulling the same stupid stunts again. Hadn’t she learned her lesson? He remembered the look on her face last time—pale, defeated—as she asked him how he could be so cruel to her mother. A flicker of something stirred in his chest. He thought of her mother, the woman who had been so kind to him when he was a boy. The truth was, he had just been bluffing. Even if Ava had refused to retract the statement, he would never have let the woman die. But Ava had complied. She had been good. “I know. I’ll handle it.” He hung up, in no mood to comfort Lily. He decided he would go find Ava. If she agreed to fix this mess, he’d call off the divorce. He’d even take her on that trip she’d always wanted, the one he’d promised her for their honeymoon. He’d promised, but right after the wedding, he was too busy proving himself to his family, clawing his way to the top. By the time he finally had the freedom, their relationship was in shambles. He had gone on that trip, though. With Lily. She had found out about his promise to Ava and whined until he gave in. He remembered the look on Ava’s face when she found out. A terrible, broken thing, caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob. A strange tightness gripped his chest. He tried to call Ava’s mother, but the line was disconnected. Annoyed, he called Ava’s best friend. A moment later, his face paled. “What do you mean, she sold everything and emigrated?!” 10 “Impossible! She would never leave me!” Andy roared into the phone, but then he forced himself to calm down. Ava’s mother was still in the hospital. She would never abandon her mother. He immediately called the doctor’s office, but the man on the other end sounded confused. “Mr. Blackwood, I’m already back in the States.” Fury surged through Andy. “You’re back in the States? Who’s taking care of my mother-in-law?” The doctor’s tone was even more confused. “But the patient passed away last month, didn’t she?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387093”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 At a critical international conference, my phone blew up. It was Cole, a childhood friend I hadn’t spoken to in years. When I finally called back, his tone was sharp. “Too important now? I’m getting engaged and you can’t even come help.” My work was classified. I gave a vague excuse. He grew more arrogant. “Fine. But if you want forgiveness, send a gift—a car with four rings.” Thinking he meant money, I offered ten grand. “Ten grand?” he spat. “My fiancée is Sierra Sterling, from Silveridge’s most powerful family. Don’t push your luck.” A digital invitation arrived. I opened it—and froze. There was my wife, Sierra, wrapped around Cole in a fiery kiss. “Four rings?” I whispered, my voice low. “I’ll send two.” Wreaths have rings, too. Hearing me agree, Cole was ecstatic. “Hell yeah! I knew I could count on you, brother! And hey, I’m looking out for you. Two of the new Audi R8s will be perfect. If you’re a little tight on cash, I know a guy who gives out loans. Super reliable.” Two R8s? At over a quarter-million each? Did he think I was his personal bank? A cold smirk touched my lips. I decided to test the waters. “So, you’re marrying Miss Sterling. Does her husband approve?” There was a pause on the other end, followed by the wet sound of someone swallowing. “Stop nibbling, you little vixen,” Cole’s voice came through, thick with lust. “My buddy here says you’re already married. You care to explain that?” Sierra let out a discontented moan, her words muffled. “My only husband… is you, Cole. That loser… he’s still treasuring a fake marriage certificate like it’s gold.” Aroused beyond control, Cole tossed his phone aside and I could hear the sounds of him pulling her into a rough embrace. The line was filled with a sickening symphony of moans, curses, and cries of pleasure. Each sound was a needle, stitching a pattern of agony directly onto my heart. “Oh Cole, please… I’m going to die!” I killed the call. Reaching under my bed, I pulled out the marriage certificate and immediately dialed the City Registrar. A quick search confirmed it. The certificate was a forgery. The rage was a physical thing, a black tide rising in my chest. I summoned my assistant. “Contact the District Attorney and the Police Commissioner in Silveridge. I want a full, top-to-bottom investigation of the Sterling family. Every asset, every transaction. If you find anything illegal, I want them crushed. No mercy.” “And one more thing,” I added, my voice deathly calm. “Call a florist. Order forty funeral wreaths.” After giving my orders, I stared at the cold, beautiful face on the worthless certificate and crumpled it into a tight ball. She seemed to have forgotten a simple fact. The Sterling family only existed because I allowed it to. To think she would dare humiliate a man of my standing… I would bury her entire family for this. I notified my superiors and drove straight to the Sterling mansion. I was getting my daughter. But she was nowhere to be found. I searched every room, and when I questioned the maids, they averted their eyes and mumbled excuses. My roar of fury finally broke one of them. Trembling, she led me to the backyard, to a crude, brick doghouse. I stared, confused, until she tapped on the dog bowl. A small, shivering girl in rags crawled out. It was my daughter. In that instant, the blood in my veins turned to ice. I couldn’t process what I was seeing. “Nora!” I cried out, rushing forward to sweep her into my arms. But she flinched violently, shaking from head to toe, her voice a tiny, pleading whimper. “Don’t hit me… I won’t eat anymore… I’ll go back to my kennel, I promise…” Her words were a knife twisting in my gut. I’d only been gone for a few months. What had happened here? That vile creature, Sierra… how dare she! Once Nora had calmed down, the whole horrifying story came out. In my absence, Sierra had brought Cole into our home. They carried on day and night, and to keep her out of the way, they locked my daughter in the doghouse. Whenever I was scheduled to return, they would clean her up, dress her in nice clothes, and threaten her into silence. Her small body was a canvas of horrifying bruises. Patches of her skin were scarred with cigarette burns. Cole’s handiwork. Looking at her tiny, malnourished limbs, I felt the last of my control snap. This engagement party would be their funeral. I ordered the maid to throw every last one of Sierra’s belongings in the trash, called a realtor to put the mansion on the market, and then, with my daughter safely with me, I drove toward the party. On the way, Sierra called. “Honey, the DA’s office is at the company. Can you go down there and smooth things over?” “I’m a little busy right now,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “Stop making trouble for me.” Busy putting horns on my head? I laughed coldly and blocked her number. When I arrived at the hotel Cole had mentioned, the entrance was lined with luxury cars. I told Nora to wait in the car, locked the doors, and walked inside alone. It was just an engagement party, but it was decorated with obscene extravagance. Cole was preening near the entrance in a tailored suit, greeting guests. Behind him, a series of large displays showcased photo after photo of him and Sierra. The revealing clothes, the lewd expressions… each image was a fresh wave of disgust. My fists clenched. I wanted to tear them all to shreds. In five years of marriage, she had always played the part of the untouchable goddess. The number of times she’d even allowed me to touch her could be counted on one hand. But here, in Cole’s arms, she was like a bitch in heat, desperate to please her master. Maybe five years ago, I never should have stepped in front of that loan shark’s knife for her. I never should have paid off her family’s debts and elevated her to a status she never deserved. “Well, well, if it isn’t my old pal Liam! What are you doing just standing there? Never seen a place this fancy? Cat got your tongue?” A jeering voice broke my thoughts. It was Cole, surrounded by a posse of our old childhood friends, strutting toward me like a king. “Hey man, I didn’t see you call my guy for a loan. So, what’s the story with the cars? I’ve been bragging to everyone. Don’t make me look bad, okay?” As soon as Cole finished, a sycophant named Leo flashed a high-end knockoff Rolex on his wrist and chimed in. “Come on, Cole, you’re putting our boy genius in a tough spot. He’s just a damn tutor at some prep school. He probably took the bus here. A car? The guy couldn’t afford a single tire if he saved for the rest of his life!” The group erupted in laughter. “Hey, Liam’s a brain, right? Maybe he can write a poem for the happy couple! He can keep the couple hundred bucks he was gonna give as a gift to pay for his taxi home!” “Liam, listen. Eat all you want, but don’t you dare try to sneak food out in a plastic bag. Cole’s marrying a Sterling, the top family in Silveridge. Don’t embarrass him.” Looking at their smug, bootlicking faces, a chilling coldness settled deep within me. “Liam, they’re just joking around, don’t take it seriously,” Cole said, clapping me on the shoulder, but his eyes were gleaming with triumph. “But let me give you some brotherly advice. In this world, money is king. What’s the use of being book-smart? If it wasn’t for my engagement, you wouldn’t even be allowed through the doors of this hotel.” He leaned in closer. “Remember all those girls you used to look down on? Now you couldn’t even lick their boots. See, that’s where I’ve got you beat. I married well. Now I run this city. But hey, don’t feel too bad. When you meet my wife later, I’ll see if I can get you a job as a security guard at Sterling Corp…” I stared at him, my expression unreadable. The higher he climbed, the harder he would fall. Just then, my phone buzzed. The wreaths had arrived. I gave the order. A moment later, a bizarre procession appeared at the end of the red carpet. A team of people, dressed for a funeral, carrying enormous wreaths, began to wail and chant, throwing the entire event into chaos. Cole’s face turned the color of week-old garbage. He screamed for security to throw them out. The florist, a cheerful man, bustled over to me. “Sir! All the wreaths you ordered have been delivered. I even threw in the full package, procession and all, free of charge. Are you satisfied?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “You did a great job. My brother gets married again, you’re the first person I’m calling.” The florist looked utterly bewildered, but Cole, finally realizing who was behind it, started shaking with rage. “Liam, you son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you!” He lunged, his fist aimed at my face. I caught his wrist, used his momentum to pivot, and sent him flying over my shoulder. He landed flat on his face with a pathetic grunt. Seeing his master down, Leo the lapdog grabbed a chair and swung it at my head. I ducked, spun, and planted a foot square on his ass, sending him tumbling headfirst into a pile of funeral wreaths. Cole scrambled up, his face a twisted mask of fury. “Liam, you have a death wish! Don’t you know who the Sterlings are in this city? You could have ten lives and it wouldn’t be enough!” I just shrugged. There weren’t many people in this world who could threaten my life. Within minutes, Cole had summoned a dozen security guards. “Get him! If he dies, it’s on me!” Emboldened by his promise, they charged. I took down the first two with quick, precise strikes, then used the chaotic environment to my advantage, weaving between tables and guests. In moments, half of them were on the floor. Cole was screaming like a madman. “You idiots! Use your batons! The first person to take him down gets a hundred grand!” The money lit a fire in their eyes. They drew their batons and came at me with renewed ferocity. I misjudged a step, and a heavy blow landed on my leg. I stumbled, and they were on me, a flurry of fists and feet. They dragged me before Cole. Without a word, he drove his fist into my stomach, twice. The pain was so intense my vision swam with black spots. “Liam! You were so tough a minute ago. What happened?” he sneered, grabbing a handful of my hair and slapping my face repeatedly, a sick, ecstatic light in his eyes. Leo handed him a wine bottle. Cole didn’t hesitate. He shattered it over my head. Blood and alcohol poured down my face, blinding me. He spat on me in disgust and pulled out his phone. “Baby, where are you? Some jealous asshole crashed our party and tried to hurt me. You have to come make him pay!” Sierra’s cold voice came through the speaker almost immediately. “Who has the nerve to touch my husband? Have the guards hold him. Cripple him, kill him, I don’t care. I’m on my way.” After he hung up, the sycophants started in again. “Damn, Cole, you’ve got the great Sierra Sterling wrapped around your little finger!” “Sierra Sterling is nothing! Back when Cole was a loan shark, he’d take any woman he wanted. Now those were the days!” Cole puffed up his chest, basking in the praise. He picked up a heavy, steel serving fork from a nearby table and, with a vicious grin, stabbed it straight through the palm of my hand. The agony was blinding. A scream ripped from my throat as cold sweat drenched my body. Nora, worried that I’d been gone so long, had slipped out of the car and into the hotel. She ran in just in time to see the fork impale my hand. She let out a terrified cry and threw herself at me. “Leave my daddy alone! Stop hurting my daddy!” she sobbed, spreading her tiny arms to shield me. Cole froze, stunned by her sudden appearance, then his face hardened into a cruel mask. “You little mongrel. Who let you out of your kennel? Get back there right now before I whip you!” Seeing the terror in my daughter’s eyes, remembering the scars that littered her small body, the hate inside me detonated. I ripped the fork from my palm and, with every ounce of strength I had left, lunged at Cole, plunging the steel tines into his chest. It only went in an inch before he kicked me away. “You piece of shit! You and the mutt you spawned aren’t leaving here alive today!” After a guard crudely bandaged his wound, Cole took out his rage on me, kicking and punching until he was out of breath. He leaned down, his hot, foul breath in my ear. “You know, Liam, I have to thank you. You raised a fine wife for me.” He chuckled. “She is so, so wet.” My blood ran cold. I stared at him. “You knew.” Cole threw his head back and roared with laughter. “Of course I knew, you idiot! Why do you think I set you up with her? For the thrill of it! You were married for five years, and I was fucking her for five years. She was so used up by me, she wouldn’t even let a loser like you touch her.” A red haze descended over my vision. I flailed at him, but he easily dodged my clumsy attacks. “Why?” I choked out. “I treated you like a brother. Why would you do this to me?” There was no remorse in his eyes, only a deep, festering hatred. “Because I hate you! I hate the way you always looked at me with pity, like you were tossing me scraps! So I decided I’d take everything from you. Everything. I’ll even make your daughter my dog!” “You animal!” I struggled to my feet, but before I could move, a sharp slap sent my head spinning. “What bastard dares—” My words died in my throat when I saw her. Sierra. For a split second, I saw panic in her eyes. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “You have the nerve to ask me that? You filthy, degenerate whore!” My words erased her panic, replacing it with cold fury. She slapped me again, so hard I nearly fell. By the time I looked up, she was draped over Cole, looking down at me with utter contempt. “You want to know why?” she hissed. “Because you make my skin crawl. You disgust me.” Her revulsion was a blade, carving me up from the inside out. Nora, trembling behind me, tugged on my hand, trying to pull me away. But Sierra’s sharp eyes noticed her. She wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell? Oh, the little mongrel is here too. You didn’t really think this pathetic loser of a father could protect you, did you?” Cole laughed, sliding his hand up Sierra’s dress and squeezing her. He brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Let’s just take out the trash. Get rid of these two pieces of filth today.” He waved his hand, and the guards pinned me to the floor again. “Sierra, you will regret this!” I roared. “Regret it? I think you’re the one who’s going to have regrets,” she sneered. She ground her heel into my wounded hand and snatched a bottle of vodka from a table. She poured it directly onto the open wound. The pain was beyond anything I had ever felt. It was like being torn apart. The veins in my neck bulged as I thrashed against the hands holding me down. Nora’s screams were heart-wrenching. She tried to push Sierra’s foot off my hand, but Sierra kicked her away. Nora crawled back, sobbing, and started banging her small head on the floor at Sierra’s feet. “Mommy, please… please don’t hurt Daddy…” This only enraged Sierra further. “Who’s your mommy, you little bitch? I’ll kick your teeth in!” She raised her pointed high-heel and stomped it down on my daughter’s mouth. Blood gushed from Nora’s lips. My vision went red. I was helpless, pinned, able to do nothing but scream curses. “Are you even human?! That’s your own daughter! I never should have saved you—” Cole kicked me hard in the ribs, cutting me off. “Since you two are so keen on sharing everything, I’ll be happy to oblige. Hold that little bitch down and pour the rest of that vodka down her throat!” As Leo pried open my daughter’s mouth, I let out a desperate, primal scream. “You can’t touch her! I am a National Scholar of the Research Institute!” The room went silent for a beat, then exploded with derisive laughter. “A National Scholar? You look more like a national embarrassment! Yeah, and I’m the Archmage!” “Dude’s been reading too many fantasy novels!” “Touch her, and you are all dead men!” I bellowed, my eyes bloodshot with rage. The only answer I got was another hail of kicks and punches. “The man who can touch me hasn’t been born yet!” Cole snarled, grabbing the bottle himself and forcing it into my daughter’s mouth. The next second, the entire glass front of the hotel shattered inward as several military jeeps plowed into the lobby, followed by a dozen police cruisers, sirens screaming. The hall was instantly flooded with armed officers, surrounding everything.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387092”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The real heiress of our family returned, armed with a brand of performative poverty so extreme she was determined to make us all suffer with her. Our family had a chauffeured car to take us to school, but she refused to get in, insisting that my brother and I ride a rickety electric trike with her instead. When the trike inevitably flipped, my brother and I broke our arms shielding her from the fall. At school, she’d toss out the lavish lunches our chef prepared, only to produce stale bread and pickled vegetables from her bag, forcing us to join her in a life of “frugal simplicity.” My brother, Dan, was a dancer; he fainted from hunger in the middle of rehearsal. When we pleaded with our parents, they’d just sigh. “Sadie’s had a hard life. She’s a pitiful girl. Just try to be patient with her.” “Besides,” they’d add, “frugality is a wonderful quality.” This continued until her official welcoming gala. She replaced all the fine wine with orange soda, the gourmet hors d’oeuvres with potato chips and spicy cheese puffs, and walked on stage wearing a faded, secondhand dress. That was when our parents finally snapped. “Get that pathetic rag off you and throw it away! Who are you trying to look pitiful for?” Dan and I burst into tears of relief and hugged each other. “They finally get it…” 1 The day the real heiress, Sadie, came home, our whole family stood at the entrance to welcome her. The town car pulled up, but Sadie didn’t get out. The driver approached us, looking troubled. “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, the young miss refuses to ride in the car. She says it wastes gas and decided to walk home.” Dan and I exchanged a look of sheer horror. It was a thirty-mile walk from the city! If there were two people in the Sterling family who loved spending money, it was me and my brother, Dan. Our shared philosophy was simple: life is meant to be enjoyed, and money is the key. He bought the latest sports cars; I bought the latest designer bags. He bought top-of-the-line motorcycles; I bought couture gowns. We were blissfully, unapologetically extravagant. If a destination was more than a block away, we took a car. Our family used to look at us with disdain for it. Hearing the driver’s words, my parents were stunned for a moment. Then, my mother’s face broke into a pleased smile. “Frugality is a good thing. It’s alright, we can wait.” Our older brother, Sterling, had no such patience. He turned on his heel and went back to his office. Dan and I were about to make our own escape when our parents grabbed us. “You two stay right here. You could learn a thing or two from Sadie. Stop being so lazy all the time.” We waited. And waited. An entire day passed, and still no Sadie. Dinner had been reheated three times. Just as we were all about to starve to death, the doorbell rang. 2 The housekeeper opened the door. There stood Sadie, dressed in patched clothes and carrying a massive woven plastic sack. After walking for over ten hours, her face was flushed a dark red and beaded with sweat. Everyone rushed to greet her. My mother took the sack from her. It clinked and rattled, and she assumed it was luggage. “Sadie, dear, are these your things?” The moment she opened it, a sour, musty stench hit us like a physical blow. Sterling, our older brother, who had just returned, frowned deeply, muttered an excuse about work, and promptly left again. Dan couldn’t hold back. “What the hell is that, a bag of trash? It reeks!” Mom shot him a death glare. “Be quiet. Don’t be rude.” Dan sulked, shooting me a helpless look. Sadie, however, lifted her chin, her eyes defiant, and snatched the sack back. “These are soda cans I collected on the way. You can sell them for money. I hate waste more than anything.” She looked pointedly at all of us. “I hope everyone here can learn to be more frugal from now on.” My mother immediately gushed, “Sadie, you’re so sensible.” She then glanced at me and Dan. “Poppy, Dan, you two should learn from your sister instead of just eating and playing all day.” My father chimed in. “Frugality is excellent. Especially for you two. You need to learn its value.” He then pulled out a credit card and offered it to Sadie. “Sadie, this is a little something for your allowance.” Sadie turned her head, glanced at the card, and sneered. “I despise the stench of money. Don’t pollute me with such things.” The atmosphere turned instantly awkward. No one in the Sterling family had ever disliked money. My father awkwardly retracted the card. “Well, let’s have dinner then.” 3 At the dining table, which was laden with lavish dishes, Sadie’s face fell. She slammed her chopsticks down. “I don’t approve of such extravagance. Do you have any plain bread? I’ll have that.” I couldn’t help myself. “But there’s so much wonderful food here. Why would you eat plain bread? Wouldn’t letting all this go to waste be even more wasteful?” My parents quickly agreed. “There’s so much to eat, dear. Please, have some of this.” Sadie looked down her nose at me. “Not everyone is as shamelessly wasteful as a spoiled fake princess like you.” My eyes widened in shock. “Fake princess?” Sadie stood up, towering over me with moral superiority. “Even though you stole my parents from me, I don’t blame you. You can continue to live here. Of course, I don’t like drama and just want to focus on my studies. I hope you’ll refrain from bothering me.” I blinked and looked at Dan. He looked like he was trying to solve a complex math problem while severely constipated. Finally, he spoke up. “Sadie, this is your biological sister, Poppy. She’s a year older than you. Don’t you remember her?” My parents’ faces were also a little strained. Sadie was four when she was lost. It was strange that she wouldn’t remember her own sister. Sadie looked shocked for a second, then her expression smoothed back into one of calm indifference. “I was switched at birth. How could I possibly remember?” Dan and I just stared at each other. In the end, Sadie ate a large, dry roll and drank a bowl of cold water. The rest of the family picked at the gourmet feast, the loud slurping of her water making the whole meal incredibly awkward. We finally survived dinner. But the next morning, when it was time for school, Dan and I were in for a true shock. 4 Sadie stood in front of the chauffeured car, her brow furrowed, refusing to get in. “I will not ride in that. It’s a waste of gas and money.” My mother tried to reason with her patiently. “Sadie, honey, we’re not short on money.” Sadie just shook her head, her chin held high. “I don’t like waste. Having money isn’t a license to be extravagant. If they want to ride, let them. I’ll walk to school myself.” My parents looked stressed. “But it’s your first day. How can you walk?” My mother then turned to me and Dan. “Why don’t you two walk with Sadie to school?” “WHAT?” Dan and I yelled in unison. Mom sighed. “It’s two and a half miles… that is a bit far.” Just then, an old man on a motorized tricycle puttered past the end of our driveway. Sadie’s eyes lit up. She pointed. “We can take that! And we’ll be helping that old man earn some money.” My parents looked at Sadie with pure admiration. Dan and I looked at each other in pure misery. The three of us, all high school students, squeezed onto the tiny trike. The whole vehicle swayed precariously. Even on a perfectly flat road, it felt like we were adrift at sea, lost and helpless. Every time we went over a speed bump, it felt like a direct assault on my spine. The old man up front kept shouting, “Whoa, whoa, you’re leaning left! Everybody lean right!” And then, “Hey, hey, don’t move, don’t move!” Dan and I were so terrified we were barely breathing. How could we possibly be moving? “Now you’re too far right! Lean left, lean left… lean…” The trike flipped. Instinctively, Dan and I threw our arms around Sadie to protect her. His left arm was broken. My right arm was broken. Sadie simply stood up, dusted herself off, and turned to leave. “You two wait here. I can’t neglect my studies. I’m going to school.” And she left the two of us, with our broken arms, to cry together on the pavement. When the police arrived, the old man, trembling, finally got to his feet, tears streaming down his face. “I was just out for a little spin! This girl flagged me down, insisted that a trike was more economical and that I had to take the three of them to school. I’m almost eighty! I don’t need the six bucks!” In the end, my parents came, bought the man a new trike, and gave him a hefty sum for his troubles. 5 Breaking my arm did have one upside: I didn’t have to do any homework. Dan, who had been held back a year, was in my grade. When he found out, he was furious. “No fair! My arm is broken too! I can’t do my homework either!” Our homeroom teacher just tapped him on the head with a notebook. “You broke your left arm. I’ll be checking your work tomorrow.” Dan glared at me from his desk with a look of pure, unadulterated envy. I just gave him a smug, provocative smile back. My parents insisted that since Sadie was new and had no friends, Dan and I had to have lunch with her every day. If we didn’t, they’d cut off our allowances. This was a tragedy. A new designer bag I’d been dreaming of had just been released. Dan was eyeing a new motorcycle. So, we dutifully went to find Sadie for lunch. At noon, our housekeeper arrived with a lavish spread delivered from home. Before she could even set it all out, Sadie shot up from her seat. “I will not eat such a wasteful meal. This is pure indulgence. Mrs. Liu, please give all of this to the homeless people outside.” Dan and I were aghast. “What homeless people?” “Well, then give it to a poor family,” Sadie declared. “I brought my own lunch. I can share it with my brother and sister. There are children starving in the mountains who need this more than we do.” At her insistence, Mrs. Liu packed up the feast. Dan and I exchanged frantic looks. Me: What is she talking about? This is Silveridge Heights. How are we supposed to send this to ‘children in the mountains’? And who would accept a random meal from strangers? What is going on in her head? Dan: No idea. And when did she pack a lunch? Me: I don’t know either. Please don’t let it be… We both turned to look at Sadie. She slowly pulled three hard, crusty rolls from her backpack and placed them on the table. Then, she produced several packets of pickled vegetables. “Brother, sister, I dislike waste. From now on, we will be frugal together. Every little bit counts. I even brought pickles in case you aren’t used to just plain bread.” She then shoved the rolls and pickles into our hands. And so it went. For a month straight. One stale roll, a cup of hot water, and a packet of pickles for lunch every single day. The school didn’t have a cafeteria, and we weren’t allowed to bring in outside snacks. By the afternoon, Dan and I were often dizzy with hunger. One day, Dan went to the dance studio to practice his stretches, his arm still in a sling. He fainted mid-plié. I ran over and held his semi-conscious form, sobbing hysterically. “What kind of ‘real heiress’ is this? She doesn’t want money or love, she just wants to torture people! Dan, if you die, what am I going to do all alone?” He managed to open his eyes and pat my head with his good hand. “Poppy, don’t cry. I’m not dead yet. I’m here with you.” Just then, a sound like a thunderclap echoed through the studio. It was his stomach. And then he passed out for real.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387091”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 My grandmother’s life was hanging by a thread after a hit-and-run—a severe brain hemorrhage. I took the driver who did it to court, only to find my wife, Ava, who was supposed to be on a business trip overseas, standing right there in the hospital. “Do you have any idea how critical Leo’s evaluation as our star intern is?” she hissed, her voice sharp and cold. “His entire future can’t be destroyed over one little car accident!” “Drop the lawsuit. Now. Or I’ll freeze all your accounts and have your grandmother moved to a general ward.” The door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing her final, chilling words. “Don’t even think about coming home until you agree to drop this. And if you don’t, you can forget about being my husband, too!” Desperate for the surgery funds, I called everyone I knew, but every door slammed in my face. Then, just as I was losing all hope, a team of lawyers found me. They brought news that changed everything: the patent for the core technology my grandmother had licensed to Vance Industries had expired. And I was now the new patent holder. … After the payment for the surgery failed, I stormed into my wife’s office. “Ava, how could you? You froze my accounts for a complete stranger?” I slammed my hands on her desk. “Don’t you know Grandma needs emergency brain surgery? Does her kindness, everything she’s done for you, mean nothing?” The memory of her icy demeanor at the hospital fueled my rage. Ava looked at me as if I were some hysterical child throwing a tantrum. “Ryan, just look at yourself,” she said with a sigh. “What’s done is done. Yelling at me isn’t going to change anything.” Her tone was so dismissive, as if my grandmother were battling a common cold, not fighting for her life. I stared at the woman I had been married to for twelve years, and my heart turned to ice. “Have you forgotten how Vance Industries even got started?” I demanded, my voice shaking. “Have you forgotten how she took a knife for you during that mugging? She still has permanent nerve damage in her back because of it! And now, you’re throwing away her only chance to live, all for some intern? Ava, do you even have a soul?” When we were dating, my grandmother had used every connection she had to support Ava’s dream, paving the way for her success. The very patent that earned Vance Industries hundreds of millions in profit each year? Grandma had licensed it to her for a symbolic fee of a few million, just to see her succeed. Every single achievement of her company was built on my grandmother’s generosity and genius. And this was how Ava repaid her. At my words, Ava’s cold composure finally cracked, replaced by searing anger. She hurled her coffee mug at my feet. It shattered, sending shards of porcelain slicing into my ankle. I felt the warm trickle of blood. “What’s the point of dragging up all that ancient history?” she spat. “Right now, all you need to do is drop the lawsuit, tell everyone your grandmother fell on her own, and this will all be over.” She stepped closer, her eyes blazing. “If you keep pushing this and delay her surgery, the person who kills her won’t be the driver—it’ll be you!” I looked at this woman, so familiar yet so alien, and a desolate emptiness filled me. I remembered when we first fell in love. She’d run through a downpour just to walk me home. She’d stayed up all night by my bedside when I was sick. She had been so afraid she wasn’t good enough for my family, studying relentlessly, promising she’d have children whenever I was ready. Now, it felt like I was truly seeing her for the first time. Seeing my silence, she sneered. “Ryan, don’t use these pathetic little tricks just because you’re jealous of Leo. You’ve had the privilege of being my husband for a decade. You should be grateful.” Grateful? I didn’t argue anymore. I turned and walked away. My grandmother’s surgery was all that mattered. Leaving her office, I called a few friends I’d always been close with. Usually, they were all smiles and warmth. Today, they treated me like I had the plague. “Ryan, come on. You’re completely dependent on your wife. Going against her like this won’t do you any good.” “Just let the accident go. You don’t even have any proof. Stop being so stubborn and go apologize to her.” “Man, Ava Vance is one of the most powerful people in this city. We’d love to help, but our hands are tied.” The sun beat down, but I felt like I was trapped in a block of ice. Anger and a profound sense of betrayal churned in my gut. My phone rang. It was Ava, her voice as cold as steel. “I’m giving you one day to drop the lawsuit. If you don’t, don’t blame me for forgetting we were ever married. Leo has an academic conference to attend overseas!” Then, a softer voice chimed in from her end. “Ava… if it’ll make Ryan feel better, I don’t mind taking a little heat.” It was Leo. “I just hate to disappoint you after all the years you’ve invested in me.” Ava’s tone grew even colder. “Ryan, do you really want to make this ugly for everyone? Do you think your grandmother would want to see you destroying the career of a brilliant young man like this? Let me tell you, even if you refuse, I have my ways.” She hung up. I clenched my fists, the image of my grandmother in the ICU flashing in my mind. A wave of helplessness washed over me. All those promises we made, all those vows… they were no match for time. My phone rang again. It was the lawyer. “Mr. Evans, the patent your grandmother licensed to Vance Industries has expired. Six months ago, she legally transferred ownership to you.” Vance Industries had become a titan in its field, and Ava had long forgotten that it was my grandmother’s exclusive technology that had allowed her to crush the competition. The young, eager woman who used to follow my grandmother around the lab, diligently taking notes and sneaking me snacks, was gone. All that remained was the ruthless CEO of Vance Industries. Looking at my grandmother lying in the ICU, hooked up to a dozen machines, a deep, burning hatred for Ava ignited within me. How could she protect the very person who had nearly killed her mentor, her benefactor? I would not let Leo get away with this. I would make them both pay. The lawyer explained that my grandmother had the foresight to prepare the patent transfer documents before our wedding, making them my pre-nuptial property. Even as her husband, Ava couldn’t touch them. It was late afternoon by the time I got home. I only intended to grab some documents, but I found Ava and Leo sitting together on the living room couch. In Leo’s hand was the good luck charm my grandmother had given me for protection. Rage erupted in me. “Who told you you could touch my things? Put it down! And get the hell out of my house!” Startled, Leo scrambled behind Ava, putting on a pitiful, wounded act. “Ryan… everyone at the office is already talking about how you’re trying to have me arrested over the accident. I… I can’t even work there anymore.” He started to get up. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. Ava, I’ll just go back to the office.” Ava grabbed his arm and pulled him back down onto the couch, their bodies now closer than they were before I walked in. “Ryan, I’m giving you an out. Go to the police station today and withdraw the complaint,” she commanded. “Vance Industries has no place for a man who causes this much drama.” Her ability to twist reality was so sickening it made my stomach turn. I ignored her and went upstairs to gather my evidence. “Ava, you remember this,” I called down, my voice hard. “It’s not you leaving me. It’s me throwing you away!” She froze, her hand dropping from Leo’s shoulder. She rushed to the bottom of the stairs and grabbed my wrist. “What did you just say?” I laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “I said I have no interest in used goods.” “Say that again,” she whispered, her eyes turning red, her voice dangerously low. Leo, terrified by the sudden tension, fumbled with the charm. It slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor. My vision went red. “You did that on purpose!” Leo’s eyes welled with tears as he shook his head. “Ava, I was just scared… Ryan frightened me. I can apologize…” But Ava shielded him. “It’s just a stupid trinket. You don’t need to apologize for anything.” She knew how much that charm meant to me, how my grandmother had prayed over it for my safety. And she dismissed it like trash. I took a deep breath, forcing down the inferno in my chest. “Fine. I’ll leave. You two can have the place to yourselves.” I walked past her, pausing at the door. “And soon, the position of husband will be vacant, too. Whoever wants it can have it.” Her face contorted with fury. My taunt had hit its mark. She swung her hand and slapped me across the face, so hard I stumbled and fell. “What the hell are you talking about? Leo is a student I mentor! I see him as a younger brother! Are you trying to ruin both our reputations with these disgusting lies?” I touched my stinging cheek. The anger was gone, replaced by a hollow, dead silence. In twelve years, she had never laid a hand on me. The first time was for him. Ava ruthlessly threw my suitcase out the front door. “Don’t think you can control me, Ryan! I don’t care where you go! You have half a day left. Drop the lawsuit!” The door slammed shut. I silently picked up my luggage and headed for the law firm, where I collected the official patent transfer documents. Staring at the thick stack of papers, the product of my grandmother’s life’s work, my eyes burned. My lawyer handed me another contract. “Mr. Evans, Helios Corp is willing to offer $180 million for a five-year licensing agreement. Would you be interested in discussing it?” That night, my grandmother’s legal team and I finalized the deal with Helios Corp. As soon as the advance payment hit my account, I had my grandmother transferred to the best private hospital in the city and scheduled her surgery with the top neurosurgeon. The next day, I received an invitation from Helios Corp to attend a major industry summit. I never expected to run into Ava and Leo there. “Ryan, what are you doing here?” Leo asked, his eyes darting between me and the female CEO of Helios Corp. His tone was slick with insinuation. “I know Ava was a little harsh yesterday, but did you really have to start cheating on her this fast?” He smirked, his face a mask of contempt. “And with one of Vance Industries’ biggest rivals, no less. How pathetic.” Helios Corp was a rising star in the tech world, and Vance Industries’ most formidable competitor. It was only because of my grandmother’s patent that Vance had managed to stay one step ahead. I watched him run his mouth, my expression unreadable. Thinking he’d hit a nerve, he grew bolder. “Ava told me that if you just apologize and drop the lawsuit, she’ll forgive you. Pulling a stunt like this in public just embarrasses her. You don’t deserve to be her husband.” Before I could respond, Ava walked over, her eyes sweeping over me with disdain. “Ryan, have you made enough of a scene? We don’t air our dirty laundry in public. Must I teach you that?” She shook her head. “You’re a grown man, yet you’re less mature than an intern. You should be ashamed of yourself.” The Helios CEO frowned, about to speak, but I gave her a subtle shake of my head. “What I do,” I said, looking straight at Ava, “is none of your business.” Ava rolled her eyes, an impatient smirk playing on her lips. “You’re the husband of the CEO of Vance Industries. Of course it’s my business. Stop being so dramatic.” The one-day deadline I gave you is up,” she continued, her voice dropping to a low threat. “If you don’t drop the suit, I really will cut off your grandmother’s medical resources.” I just smiled. “Go ahead.” Ava stared, her brow furrowing. “Yesterday you were ready to tear the world apart for her, and now you’ve found a new woman you’re just going to abandon her? I knew it. You were never worried about her. You were just trying to get back at me!” Her voice rose with conviction. “Besides, do you really think Helios can beat us? Have you forgotten that Vance Industries holds the patent to your grandmother’s core technology?” She leaned in close, whispering, “Just be a good boy, Ryan, and you’ll always be my husband. And your grandmother will get the best care in the world.” The title of her husband meant nothing to me anymore. My eyes burned, and I raised my hand to strike her. Suddenly, Leo shoved his way between us, dousing me with a glass of red wine. “Ryan! You were going to hit her in front of all these people? You’re a disgrace to Ava!” I stood there, soaked and humiliated. Ava just watched, a cold observer, before pulling out a tissue to dab at the wine that had splashed onto Leo’s hand. “I’m calling the hospital right now to cut off her funding,” she said, her voice flat and final. “And remember, Ryan. You did this to her.” I ignored her, heading to the restroom to change into my spare suit. After saying my goodbyes to the Helios CEO, I left the summit. As I walked out, I could already hear people congratulating Ava, assuming she would, as always, secure the top partnership of the event. While waiting for my car, the Helios CEO couldn’t help but ask, “Mr. Evans, are you sure Ms. Vance won’t interfere with our new partnership?” She was worried I might still have a soft spot for my wife. I shook my head. “Once I make a decision, I don’t look back.” I opened the car door, taking one last look at the venue. Ava was standing near the entrance, phone to her ear, our eyes meeting across the distance. Suddenly, her face changed. She started running towards me, slamming her hand on the car door to keep me from closing it. Her phone was still on speaker. A panicked secretary’s voice spilled out. “Ms. Vance, you heard me right! Professor Miller has been transferred to a private hospital!” The secretary took a shaky breath. “And… the patent license she granted us has expired. It’s been reclaimed. We’ve been disqualified from the summit!” The words hit like a thunderclap. Ava’s face was a deathly white. She shoved the phone in my face. “Ryan, explain this. Now!” Leo ran up behind her, snatching the phone and frantically scrolling through the documents the secretary had sent. “Ryan, you can’t just take back something you gave away! Is this how your family raised you?” Ava’s eyes were bloodshot with rage. “If you sign a new contract right now, I’ll forget any of this ever happened.” She held out her tablet, displaying a new agreement. I glanced at it—the offer was still a paltry few million. It was laughable. “Sorry,” I said, my voice calm. “The patent has already been sold.” A stunned silence fell over the small crowd that had gathered. Ava’s venomous gaze shifted to the Helios CEO. “You sold it to her?” she shrieked at me. “Are you insane? Terminate the contract, Ryan! Right now!” I looked at her, the woman I once loved, and felt nothing but a cold void. “Why would I turn down $180 million just to sign with you?” “One hundred and eighty million?” Leo gasped. “She didn’t just buy the patent, did she? Ryan, what else did you sell to get that kind of money?” He eyed me up and down, the implication vile. The Helios CEO had finally had enough. She signaled for security. “Ms. Vance, control your employee. If you continue to slander me or my company, I will pursue legal action.” Her voice was like ice. “Furthermore, Professor Miller’s contract with Vance Industries had expired. Any subsequent transaction is perfectly legal and protected by law.” A dozen security guards moved to surround us. Ava shot me one last look, a complex storm of emotions in her eyes. “You’ll regret this, Ryan.” Leo opened his mouth to say more, but withered under the CEO’s glare and scurried after Ava. I offered the Helios CEO a small smile. “Thank you for that.” She smiled back, her voice all business. “Mr. Evans. I look forward to a very successful partnership.” At the end of the summit, Helios Corp, armed with my grandmother’s technology, secured the grand partnership, shattering Vance Industries’ long-held monopoly on the industry. Just then, my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Mr. Evans, your grandmother is awake.” I politely declined the Helios CEO’s invitation to the celebratory dinner and rushed to her side. Back at the summit, Ava stood frozen, her knuckles white as she gripped her phone. She had thought it was just a minor car accident, something she could easily smooth over with money and influence, as she always had. Leo was just an intern she was mentoring; she’d planned to settle privately to protect his promising career. In her world, Leo was a future asset for her company, while Ryan was just her dependent husband who should simply do as he was told. She never imagined he would not only call the police but also reclaim the patent that was the very lifeblood of her empire. She thought freezing his accounts and threatening his grandmother’s care would bring him to his knees. She had grossly underestimated his resolve. “Ryan is just angry, Ava. He’s just taking it out on you because he feels threatened by me. It’s for the good of the company,” Leo murmured, trying to take her hand with a fawning smile. Ava yanked her hand away, a flash of irritation in her eyes. Normally, she didn’t mind his affectionate gestures, but today, they repulsed her. The image of Ryan’s cold, distant eyes at the summit made her chest ache. It was Ryan who had blown this out of proportion, Ryan who had cost her the summit, yet she was the one who felt like a piece of her had been carved out. “Are we going home now, Ava?” Leo asked tentatively. Ava was silent for a moment, then bit her lip. “We’re going to the hospital.” She was clinging to a sliver of hope, telling herself this was all a bluff—the hospital transfer, the $180 million deal, all an elaborate charade orchestrated by Helios Corp. She believed that once she showed up in person, Ryan would fold, just like he always had, begging for her forgiveness. But when she arrived at the hospital, the cold reality hit her. Her grandmother was in a VIP suite with a dedicated team of nurses, her surgery already a success. Ava stood outside the room, watching through the glass as Ryan spoke softly to his grandmother, a knot tightening in her chest. “Ryan, you’re here?” Grandma’s voice was weak, but her eyes landed on Leo, and her pupils contracted. She recognized him. He was the one behind the wheel. Leo let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Professor Miller, do you have any idea what your dear grandson has done? This fancy room, these top doctors… he paid for it all by selling Vance Industries’ corporate secrets. He’ll do anything to get back at Ava, won’t he? He has no shame.” It was a line Leo had used before, and Ava had always dismissed it as youthful arrogance. But hearing it now, it sounded grating and cruel. Grandma pushed herself up, her face pale with fury as the heart monitor beside her bed began to beep erratically. “You’re lying! You hit me! And you have the nerve to stand here and spread lies?” Ava started to intervene, but a sharp CRACK echoed through the room. I had burst through the door and slapped Leo across the face. “Grandma just got out of surgery, and you dare come here to agitate her? What is wrong with you?” I grabbed him by the collar, my voice shaking with rage. “Instead of spewing your filth here, you should be thinking about what you’re going to say in court tomorrow. A judge won’t be so easily fooled by your pathetic act!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387090”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The precinct called me out of the blue. They asked if I had bought a boba tea last month and accidentally dropped it on the floor. I said yeah, that happened. Hearing me admit it, the officer on the other end said, “You’re in deep trouble. Get down here.” I thought to myself, it’s just a cup of tea. How much trouble can I be in? When I got to the station, the officer looked at me, dead serious. “Ma’am, last month, someone slipped on that tea you dropped. She fell hard. She’s been in the ICU.” I froze. The officer led me into a mediation room. There was a girl there, arm in a cast, heavy gauze wrapped around the back of her head. She was crying, her face flushed and swollen. My brain was still buffering when the officer turned on a monitor. He played the security footage from the mall. On screen, the paper bag holding my boba ripped. The drink splattered on the tile. I looked upset, stepped around it, and walked away. About ten minutes later, the girl in the cast walked by. Anyone who’s been to a mall knows you’re looking at the shop windows, not the floor. Plus, it’s indoors—you don’t expect hazards. She stepped right into the puddle. Her feet flew out from under her. She slammed the back of her head and her arm against the hard tile. The officer handed me the medical report. “Compound fracture in the right arm. Occipital bone fracture. They had to perform a craniotomy to remove bone fragments from her brain. To be blunt, you’re lucky she survived, or you’d be facing manslaughter charges right now.” I stared blankly at the girl. She was pretty, but the officer’s implication was clear: her life was ruined. She was missing a piece of her skull. She’d have a titanium plate in the back of her head forever. Hair might never grow there again. The girl was sobbing hysterically. A crushing weight of guilt and self-loathing slammed into my chest. I just dropped a cup of tea. How did I destroy a beautiful girl’s life? “The other party is asking for $150,000 in damages,” the officer said. “We are just here to mediate. If this fails, she’s taking you to court.” $150,000. I couldn’t save that much in a lifetime. My entire net worth was about $5,000. That was money I’d scraped together by eating instant noodles, saving up for a used Honda so I wouldn’t have to commute in the rain. My dream hadn’t even started, and this $150,000 mountain was already crushing me. The officer advised me to settle. He said he’d seen this before—I would lose in court. “Why is it all on me?” I whispered. “Doesn’t the mall have a duty to keep the floor clean?” “Sure,” the officer said. “But customers don’t have the right to dump liquids and walk away, either. The mall shares liability, but you are the primary cause.” “But I told the janitor!” I blurted out. The officer paused. “You notified a cleaning staff member?” “Yes!” I said. “Right after I dropped it, I went to the restroom to clean my dress. I saw the cleaning lady and told her specifically.” I remembered it vividly because it was such a bad day. The tea had splashed all over my new skirt. The officers exchanged glances. They told me to wait and called the mall management. They requested the shift logs to identify the cleaning staff on the fourth floor that day and summoned the manager. The mall representative arrived quickly. He was slick—suit, tie, greased hair. He introduced himself as Manager Ross. Standing timidly behind him was an older woman in a uniform. I recognized her immediately. She was the one I had told. The officer asked the janitor, “I need you to tell the truth. Did this young lady tell you she dropped a drink and ask you to clean it up?” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I was innocent. But just as I relaxed, Manager Ross turned to the janitor. “Think very carefully. If she told you, then the mall is 100% liable. She walks away free.” “Hey!” The officer barked. “Watch your mouth! Are you threatening a witness?” “Just telling her to be accurate,” Ross said, smoothing his tie. The officer pointed a finger at Ross’s nose. “One more word like that and I’m kicking you out.” Ross shrugged. At that moment, the janitor looked down and whispered, “No.” 2 I stared at her, dumbfounded. “How can you say no? Think about it! I saw you leaning against the sink in the women’s restroom, scrolling on your phone!” The janitor shook her head rapidly. “Really, no. She never told me anything.” My emotions collapsed. I lunged forward and grabbed her collar, screaming out of control, “Why are you lying?! I told you! I told you right to your face!” The old woman trembled, pursed her lips, and started wailing. “I didn’t hear anything!” she cried, wiping tears. Manager Ross shoved me back. “What are you doing? trying to beat her up? Officer, you saw that, right? Assault!” I was gasping for air, rage flooding my brain. I looked at this crying old woman. To the room, I looked like a monster, and she looked like a victim. But she was lying. I know I told her! The officers separated us. One cop looked at the old woman seriously. “Ma’am, think again. Did this happen?” “No!” she sobbed. “If she told me, I would have cleaned it up! I would have!” “You old liar!” I screamed. “Do you have no conscience?!” Manager Ross stepped in front of her. “Officer, we are here to cooperate, not to be threatened.” I was so angry I could vomit. There was a lump in my throat that wouldn’t go down. They were lying through their teeth, acting righteous and victimized, making me look like the crazy one. The surveillance proved I dropped the tea. That was my fault. If surveillance could prove I told the janitor immediately, I wouldn’t be liable. But who puts security cameras inside a bathroom? Manager Ross looked at the cops with a smug, indifferent face. “Officer, the burden of proof is on the accuser. If she claims she told our staff, she needs evidence. Not just her mouth.” A chill went through my body. I had no evidence. Who records themselves telling a janitor about a spill? It’s a mundane, ten-second interaction. But that ten-second interaction was about to ruin my life. The police told me not to panic and to call my family. “How can I tell them?” I mumbled. “My mom will have a heart attack.” The injured girl spoke up through her tears. “You think you’re pitiful? What about me? The day I went into the ICU, my mom had a stroke from the shock! What did my family do to deserve this?” I couldn’t argue with her. I knew she was innocent. But so was I. As an adult, you never want to tell your parents you messed up. But this mess was too big. I couldn’t carry it alone. I picked up my phone, shaking, and called my mom. Mom sounded panicked immediately. She asked if I was hurt. I didn’t know how to explain, so I just begged her to come. She arrived on her e-bike, helmet still on, holding her keys, peering anxiously into the room. “That’s my daughter,” she told the officer, pointing at me. She sat down, clutching her keys like a lifeline, and listened as the officer explained the situation. “My daughter doesn’t lie,” Mom said, her voice trembling but firm. “She has never told a lie since she was a baby.” In her desperation, Mom grabbed the officer’s arm. “She was an essential volunteer during the pandemic! She’s a good person!” Manager Ross scoffed. “So that means we’re lying? Just because you say she’s noble? Oh wow, a volunteer. Big deal.” The officer glared at Ross. “Can you shut up?” Ross put his hands up innocently. “I’m just protecting my employee. They’re trying to use ‘good deeds’ to score points. Is this about evidence or feelings? Let’s just go to court.” He grabbed the janitor to leave. My mom lunged, grabbing the janitor’s sleeve. “Ma’am, please! Tell the truth! My daughter wouldn’t lie to you!” The janitor kept crying. “I’m not lying. She didn’t tell me.” I watched them walk out. The injured girl sighed. “Thank you for trying, officers. I’ll just sue. Let the judge decide.” “Child,” my mom pleaded with the girl. “My daughter didn’t lie.” “It doesn’t matter,” the girl said hollowly. “I’m the one with the hole in my head. Right?” Mom opened her mouth, but nothing came out. We had to sign the papers and leave. Outside, Mom told me to get on the back of her e-bike. “I know you didn’t lie,” she said over her shoulder. “Don’t be scared. Mom believes you. There is justice in this world.” My nose stung. I held back tears. “Don’t be scared,” she kept saying. But as she drove, I saw her wiping her eyes. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I went to the kitchen for a beer. Through the crack in the door, I saw my parents sitting in the living room. They were holding their savings passbook, staring at it as if staring would make the numbers grow. Mom was biting her hand to muffle her sobs. She kept asking Dad what to do. Dad smoked in silence. I retreated to my room. I called every lawyer I could find. They all said the same thing: You will lose. But I wouldn’t accept death without a fight. I knew that janitor was lying. I quit my job. I started tailing her. Many times, I wanted to hold a knife to her throat and force the truth out of her. But that would only make things worse. Finally, I made a dangerous decision. One day, after she left for work, I called a locksmith. I showed him my ID, acted like I lived there, and he opened the door. 3 I didn’t care about breaking the law anymore. I wasn’t going to steal anything. I bought a voice recorder. I practically moved into her house. When she and her husband went to work, I’d sneak out to eat. When they came back, I hid under the bed, not daring to breathe. I told my parents I was working the night shift. I believed walls have ears. She would slip up eventually. The court date was approaching. I was getting desperate. But God finally threw me a bone. The night before the trial, the janitor was tossing and turning. “What’s wrong?” her husband asked. “Court is tomorrow,” she said. “If they find out I lied, will I go to jail?” “What are you afraid of?” her husband replied. “Manager Ross said it’s a civil case. No jail. Even if they find out, the mall pays, not you.” She sighed. “I’m just scared. If I hadn’t been playing on my phone… if I had just cleaned it when she told me…” My heart exploded with joy. I got it! Every word was captured on the recorder. The next morning, as soon as they left, I crawled out from under the bed and ran. I had never run so fast in my life. I had my innocence. At the courthouse, my parents were waiting frantically. I played the recording for them. Mom cried, hitting my arm for doing something so dangerous, but she was smiling. “I knew it! The judge will clear us!” We walked into court. The janitor was still on the stand, lying. “She never told me.” I felt like the protagonist in a movie. I stood up. “You are lying! I have a recording!” The janitor’s face went white. I played the tape. The courtroom filled with her confession to her husband. The opposing lawyer frowned. “Where did this recording come from?” I told the truth. I had to. “Objection,” the lawyer said coldly. “Illegal evidence. She admitted to breaking and entering and planting a bug. This violates privacy laws. The evidence must be excluded.” The judge looked at me, then nodded. “Objection sustained. Evidence is inadmissible. Bailiff, confiscate the device.” I stood there, paralyzed. “But… you all heard it! She lied!” “She could have been joking with her husband,” the lawyer said smoothly. “It’s not legal evidence.” The judge looked at the janitor. “Do you have anything to say?” The janitor, who had been pale, slowly regained her color. 4 She nodded vigorously. “I was just… talking nonsense with my husband at home. She really didn’t tell me!” “You heard the truth!” Mom screamed. “Why won’t you believe your own ears?!” “Order!” the judge banged his gavel. “This court does not encourage illegal acts.” The injured girl looked at me. She said nothing. My world collapsed. They said the burden of proof was on me. I brought proof. They threw it away. “Does the defendant have anything else to add?” the judge asked. I couldn’t speak. That tape was everything. “Judgment,” the judge announced. I lost. The court rejected the girl’s full claim but ordered the mall to pay 30% ($60,000) and me to pay 70% ($140,000). Because I broke into the janitor’s house, I was also sentenced to 5 days of administrative detention. “Injustice!” Mom muttered. “This is an injustice!” “You can appeal within 30 days if you find new, legal evidence,” the judge said mechanically. “You heard she lied!” Mom screamed, losing it. “You’re ruining an innocent girl! You’re not human!” “Order! Or I will hold you in contempt!” Mom ran to the plaintiff’s bench, grabbing the injured girl. “You heard it, right? My daughter is innocent!” “It doesn’t matter,” the girl said. “I just need someone to pay for my surgery.” Mom pointed at Manager Ross. “Even if I sell my organs, I can’t raise $140,000! It’s your fault!” Manager Ross stood up, buttoning his jacket. “The court has spoken. We respect the law. We won’t appeal.” “Don’t you go!” Dad grabbed Ross, veins popping in his neck. “You made her lie!” “Let go,” Ross sneered. “Or I’ll sue you for assault too.” Mom was trembling. “My daughter is innocent…” “Oh, the volunteer,” Ross mocked. “Such a good person. How did she lose?” That broke her. “You bully my daughter… I’m not afraid of jail! My daughter is innocent! I’ll prove it with my life!” She screamed and slammed her head full force into the counsel table. BANG. Blood sprayed across the floor. I lunged for her, but I was too slow. The court erupted into chaos. Manager Ross actually laughed. “What is this, a soap opera?” The bailiffs called an ambulance. They saved her life, but she had a severe concussion and needed to be hospitalized. Sitting outside her room, I felt a darkness I had never known before.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387089”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My boyfriend, Hank, and I waited two years to get the factory’s housing allocation quota. A cozy 800-square-foot two-bedroom apartment with a balcony. Perfect for our upcoming wedding. The day before we were set to register our marriage, I had ten bucks in my pocket. I was planning to buy Hank a nice Dacron shirt for our wedding photos tomorrow. But as I walked past the factory school gate, I heard a few female workers whispering: “Did you hear? Judy got an apartment this time.” “For real? Those quotas are like gold dust. Everyone’s been eyeing them.” “I know, right? Heard Hank gave it to her. Judy’s been walking around with her nose in the air for days.” My heart sank. This wedding… might not be happening. 1 Judy was Hank’s apprentice. From the day she joined the factory, she’d been following him around like a lost puppy, “Master” this, “Master” that. Anyone with eyes could see what she was after. Ideally, Hank had always kept things professional with her. He shouldn’t be causing a scandal like this right before our wedding. I quickened my pace towards the workshop. From a distance, I saw Hank standing by his lathe. Judy had her head down, talking to him, shoulders shaking like she was crying. Before I reached them, Judy looked up and saw me. She forced an awkward smile. “Hey, Sarah.” Hank walked over and took my hand. “Sarah, what are you doing here? I thought you took the day off?” I stared at him and asked bluntly: “I heard Judy got the housing allocation.” “We waited over two years for the factory to release one quota. She’s been here six months. Why did she get it?” Hank quickly covered my mouth. “Keep it down. It’s not good if people hear.” “Judy’s quota… is ours.” I forced a smile. “Quotas aren’t just handed out. Even by seniority, it’s not her turn.” “Don’t worry about that. I made it happen.” Hank lowered his voice. “Judy’s family is in a tough spot. Her brother needs to get married ASAP, and the fiancée’s family doesn’t want an older sister hanging around. So they kicked her out.” “She’s just a girl, she can’t be homeless. I’m just helping her out.” I laughed in disbelief, stepping forward and forcing him back a half step. “Helping her out?” “You used my quota to help her. Did you ask me?” Hank’s face flushed red, his voice rising. “What’s yours or mine?!” “The factory gave that apartment to me. I can give it to whoever I want!” “Besides, we just registered the marriage for show. It’s not like I’m actually gonna live with her!” “Once her brother gets married, I’ll divorce her immediately…” Divorce? A nameless fire burned in my chest. My eyes widened, trembling with rage. “You’re talking about divorce? So you not only gave her the apartment, you married her?” “No wonder. I said that apartment wouldn’t change hands easily.” Seeing I was truly angry, Hank softened his tone. “Don’t be mad. Once the apartment stuff is sorted, I’ll divorce her and marry you properly.” “Then I’ll give you a grand wedding, okay?” “Not okay.” I took a deep breath, my voice cold. “Hank, a marriage certificate isn’t a joke. That makes you legally husband and wife. If you married her, what am I?” “You’re my girlfriend.” He said it so matter-of-factly, even a bit impatiently. “Why are you so hung up on this?” “Sarah, you’re usually so reasonable. Why are you being so stubborn about this?” “It’s just a piece of paper. Can you eat it?” I sneered. He really wasted his high school education. “You can’t eat it, but it can send you to jail.” “Do you think a sham marriage is a small thing?” “If the factory investigates, you’ll lose your senior technician title, maybe even get fired!” Hank scoffed. “Investigate what?” “We just tell everyone we broke up.” “Give it a year or two, Judy and I get divorced, then you and I register again. Problem solved.” His nonchalance made me sick to my stomach. “Hank, where do you get the nerve to think I’d still marry you?” “And where do you get the confidence to think I won’t expose this crap?” Hank pouted. “We’ve been together for years. Who in the factory doesn’t know we’re a thing?” “Besides me, who else would marry you?” “And if you expose this, my reputation is ruined, but do you think yours will be clean?” “A woman dumped by a man… people will talk behind your back wherever you go.” 2 Looking at the man in front of me, I suddenly felt cold all over. I almost spent my life with him. He looked down on women, mocked marriage, and was using my reputation to threaten me. Blood rushed to my head. I raised my hand and slapped him. Smack! Hank held his face, eyes wide with disbelief. “You dare hit me?” “Damn right I dare.” I looked at him coldly. “Hank, from today on, we are done.” “Sarah!” He roared. “Don’t you regret this!” I gave him a look of disdain and turned to leave. Suddenly, Judy popped out from behind him, blocking my path. Her eyes were red, tears falling like broken pearls. Her voice was as quiet as a mosquito, meant only for us. “Sarah, don’t blame Master.” She leaned closer. “Master still has you in his heart. He just pities a country girl like me.” “Look at you. Born in the city, educated, have a job, and a good man like Master willing to marry you. What’s one apartment quota?” “Besides, the factory will have more allocations. Maybe you’ll get one next time.” “But I’m different. If I don’t have this apartment, my dad will force me to marry the cripple in the east village…” I stepped sideways, putting some distance between us before raising my voice. “Judy, are you addicted to playing the victim?” Workers around us looked over. “Last winter, your mom took all your money, and you were crying at the factory gate at midnight. I was the one who took you home.” “My mom got up in the middle of the night to cook you noodles. I saw you shivering and gave you my new sweater. Did you forget all that?” Judy’s face went pale. I ignored her act. I wasn’t the one with a guilty conscience. I wanted everyone to know that Judy was the one who wronged me. “You acted all pitiful to gain my sympathy.” “I was even worried you’d get fired for being slow, so I asked Hank to mentor you personally. What did you say then?” I mimicked Judy’s voice: “Sarah~ You’re so good. I’ll definitely repay you someday.” Laughter erupted around us. Judy’s eyes filled with tears. I smirked. “Looking at it now, you really know how to repay people.” “Everyone take note. Helping Judy comes with a price. Look at me—boyfriend stolen, apartment snatched.” Hank frowned and stepped forward, shielding Judy. “Why bring up those petty past events?” “Who hasn’t helped someone before?” “Sarah, you’re being so petty. It’s beneath you.” I kicked him in the shin. “You two team up to bully me, and you have the nerve to call me petty?” Someone chimed in from the side. It was Lisa from the next group. “Just a few days ago, Judy was telling people that since Sarah is an only child and her family is well-off, helping her is expected.” Another female worker added: “Exactly. Last time you said your mom was marrying you off, Sarah went to the factory manager to plead your case so you could stay. And you turn around and do this?” Judy couldn’t lift her head, swaying like she might faint. Hank’s face was livid. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. He pointed at me coldly. “Sarah, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Just to embarrass her?” “I’m embarrassing her? Weren’t you two the ones who disgusted me first?” “If your Judy is so easily embarrassed, maybe stop doing embarrassing things.” With that, I ignored them and pushed through the crowd. 3 As soon as I reached the workshop door, Lisa chased after me. She grabbed my arm, looked around sneakily, and whispered: “Sarah, be careful.” “Just now, Judy was telling people you bully her because you’re a city girl.” “She said Master lost feelings for you ages ago and was just waiting to break up.” “What else did she say?” “She said… you’re fat and mean, not good enough for her good Master.” Lisa pouted. “Unlike her, who can do laundry and cook for Master.” “It makes me so mad!” “You’re a Model Worker! Women hold up half the sky, what’s so special about doing laundry and cooking!” “When she first came, she followed Hank around all day, calling him ‘Master’ so sweetly. Who couldn’t see what she was up to?” “A few days ago, Hank even took her brother to buy a bike.” Lisa held up two fingers. “Heard it cost two hundred bucks. Judy’s family is broke, how could they afford that?” Hank came from a regular family. For our wedding, he only offered $166 as a dowry. Yet he casually gave away a $200 bike. My anger peaked, then faded into a cold clarity. “I know. Thanks, Lisa.” 4 Back home. My mom was busy making dumplings. Seeing my face, she rushed over. “What’s wrong? Why the long face?” She craned her neck to look behind me. “Where’s Hank? Why didn’t he come back with you?” I didn’t speak. “Did the apartment thing fall through?” Her voice tightened. “Shouldn’t be. We waited the longest. Plus, didn’t your factory say key personnel get priority this year?” It was priority for key personnel. But last year, I helped Hank fix two machines. Now he was a grade above me. So the housing quota fell to him. “He gave the quota to Judy.” I sank into the sofa, speaking weakly. “They registered a marriage. Said it’s fake, just until Judy’s family situation stabilizes, then they’ll divorce.” Mom gasped. “What kind of nonsense is that? Are they crazy?” Just then, a bicycle bell rang outside the courtyard gate. I peeked out. It was Judy. She had changed out of her work clothes into a brand-new floral shirt. Holding a mesh bag with a few apples. Peeking around the gate. Seeing me, she gave a timid smile. “Sarah, I know I wronged you and Auntie about the apartment.” “These fruits are…” She planned to trade my apartment for a few rotten apples? My anger flared instantly. I jumped off the sofa and shoved her towards the exit. “Take your rotten apples and get out!” Startled by my shout, her tears fell instantly. “Sarah, I know you’re mad, but I really had no choice.” “I didn’t want to be dragged back home or sold for a dowry.” She sobbed, shoulders shaking. “My family thinks I got an apartment and married in the city, so they won’t come looking for me for a while.” “Master and I just borrowed the quota. Once my brother gets a wife and things settle down, I’ll divorce him immediately…” I didn’t buy a single tear. My eyes were fixed on her new shirt. Light blue with a white belt. Last month, an old classmate sent me one just like it. I was busy helping Hank fix machines, so I asked him to pick it up. He said he lost it on the way. Turns out it was lost onto Judy’s body. I curled my lip in a mocking smile. “You really like ‘borrowing’ things, don’t you?” “Borrowing a quota requires wearing a new shirt? Borrowing a quota requires Hank buying your brother a bike?” Judy’s face went white. She bit her lip and glanced inside. “Is Auntie home? I want to explain to Auntie…” “No need to explain!” Mom walked out, her face pale. “Our family doesn’t need your rotten apples! If you want to apologize sincerely, give the quota back to my daughter and get out of the factory.” Judy stepped back in fear, crying harder. “Auntie, please don’t be like this… I really…” Mom was breathing heavily, her finger shaking as she pointed at Judy. “Really what? Really shameless?” “My Sarah and Hank have been together for five years. She gave up a chance to go to the provincial capital for him.” “And you, here for six months, steal her man and dare to show up at my door!” Judy suddenly squatted on the ground, hugging her knees and wailing. “I didn’t mean to… I just wanted to live…” “I’m just a country girl, bullied at the factory. Only Master would help me…” 5 Before I could scold her, Hank came running. Frowning, he threw his precious bike aside and rushed to help her up. “What’s wrong? Who bullied you?” The tenderness in his voice felt like needles in my heart. Mom’s face went cold. She looked at me instinctively, patting my hand. Judy threw herself into Hank’s arms, crying harder. “Master, I just wanted to see Auntie, but Sarah and Auntie scolded me…” “Did I do something wrong? Maybe I shouldn’t take the quota. I’ll just go back to my village…” “Nonsense!” Hank stroked her hair and glared at me. “Sarah, what is wrong with you and your mom? Is it easy for a young girl like her? Do you have to drive her to death?” Mom was trembling with rage, pointing at Hank, speechless. I supported her, watching Hank hold Judy, coaxing her softly. “Don’t cry. I’m here. No one can bully you.” He took out a handkerchief and gently wiped Judy’s tears. Once she stopped crying, Hank glanced at Mom perfunctorily. “Auntie okay? Need to go to the hospital?” “Save your fake kindness!” Mom pointed at the door. “Take her and get out! Don’t ever come back!” Hank frowned, didn’t speak, helped Judy up, and said softly, “I’ll take you back.” He pushed his bike. Judy leaned against him. As they left, she looked back at me. There was a hint of triumph in her eyes. I watched their backs. Then looked at Mom’s pale face. Whatever feelings I had for Hank snapped right there. I helped Mom inside. She grabbed my hand. “Sarah, you can’t have a man like that. We don’t need that apartment. Mom will save up for you. We’ll live on our own capability.” I nodded. “Mom, don’t worry. Your daughter isn’t a pushover.” “I have to let them know who deserves that quota.” Mom looked at me and suddenly smiled, wrinkles gathering at the corners of her eyes. “Good. My daughter has grown up, has a mind of her own. Do whatever you want to do. No one bullies us.” “If your factory doesn’t listen to reason, I’ll… I’ll hang myself at their gate!” I quickly comforted her. “Mom, relax. Our Factory Manager hates underhanded tricks the most.” “Just rest at home and wait for my good news.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387088”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel