I was diagnosed with a terminal illness and died, only to be resurrected by a system. The catch? I had to become the evil stepmother of a future villain in a novel. The rule? Don’t break character. I looked down at the five-year-old munchkin at my feet, snatched his milk, and replaced it with a glass of bitter melon juice. From that day on, I made his life hell. He wasn’t allowed to be picky with his food. If he wanted a pet, he had to clean up its poop. Years later, when he was applying for college, I even secretly changed his application choices. I thought I was creating a monster. I thought when he became successful, he’d come for my head. Instead, he stood in front of the media, cameras flashing, and said: “The person I’m most grateful for is my mom. Her love guided me through my childhood and showed me the right path in life.” Wait a minute… did I do something wrong? 1 After dying from my illness, the System told me I could keep living if I transmigrated into a book as the villain’s wicked stepmother. The only condition: I had to maintain the “evil stepmother” persona. No OOC (Out Of Character) allowed. This was a male-centric urban novel. The five-year-old kid in front of me, Julian, was destined to become the Big Bad who would destroy the protagonist’s life. And the main reason for his twisted psyche? Me. His wicked stepmother. I thought about it for a second. I didn’t have much experience being evil. So I simplified it: Just don’t let him be comfortable. I looked at the little boy sitting quietly at the table, drinking his milk. I snatched the glass from his hand and handed it to the nanny. “Change this to bitter melon juice. The more bitter, the better.” The kid looked confused for a second, a milk mustache still on his upper lip. He glared at me angrily but didn’t dare to speak. When I arrived in this body, she had already been married into the Vance family for six months. According to the plot, once I realized Julian’s father, Arthur Vance, was rarely home, I tore off my mask of kindness. I started tormenting and framing little Julian. At first, he fought back. But a kid is no match for an adult. Whenever he tattled, I’d twist the truth and punish him harder. After months of psychological abuse, he learned to suffer in silence. Now, my job was to keep that momentum going. Maybe add a little personal flair. Julian had probably never tasted bitter melon juice before. His face scrunched up like a wrinkled sheet, and he instinctively stuck out his tongue. My heart melted a little—he was kinda cute. But I kept my voice cold. “Drink it all!” Making a kid eat bitter melon is basically torture. This definitely counts as abuse, right? I’m nailing this evil stepmom gig. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. 2 After breakfast, the nanny was getting Julian ready for school. I frowned when I saw him dressed in cheap, slightly worn-out clothes. “Why is he dressed like that?” “Didn’t you say we shouldn’t encourage vanity in children? You said keeping a low profile is better.” Wow, the original owner of this body was insidious. She wanted to crush his self-esteem by making him look poor. But she miscalculated. Kindergarteners don’t understand wealth. They understand fitting in. What they fear most is being ostracized. I immediately ordered the nanny to change Julian into a little tuxedo. Complete with a cute bowtie. Then I told the driver to bring out the most expensive, flashy car in the garage. I was going to make sure he was the most extra kid at that preschool. Let them hate the rich! Let the envy flow! Maybe because this was different from my usual cruelty, Julian looked uneasy. Before leaving, he pursed his lips and whispered, “Why are you doing this?” I squatted down and let out a villainous cackle. “Because I’m bad!” Julian took a step back in fear. I took the opportunity to lunge forward and plant a big kiss on his chubby cheek. He covered his face in horror. I threatened him, “Say goodbye to Mommy, or I’ll come pick you up from school personally this afternoon.” After six months of torment, he probably hated my guts. Kissing him and making him call me “Mommy” was definitely crossing his boundaries. But he had to submit. Watching him run out the door with his mouth shut tight, I felt like the queen of mean. 3 After Julian left for school, I wandered around the villa, bored out of my mind. In the original story, Arthur was a workaholic who traveled constantly. He’d often be gone for weeks at a time. I was basically a trophy wife hired to babysit Julian. He wired me $500,000 a month for living expenses. He probably thought the money would motivate me to be nice to the kid. Instead, it just fueled the original owner’s greed. I sighed and asked the System, “How long do I have to keep this up?” The System replied that I had a crucial scene where I secretly changed Julian’s college application, forcing him to go abroad and face even darker trauma. So, I had to stay in character until Julian graduated high school. Rough calculation: at least thirteen years. Living as a rich wife was a sweet deal, but playing the villain 24/7 was exhausting. I decided to go on a shopping spree to comfort myself. 4 At dusk, the driver pulled up to the kindergarten right on time. Julian hadn’t said goodbye to me that morning. I said I’d pick him up, and I meant it. I had to establish my authority. Let him know the terror of his stepmother. This private kindergarten looked like a literal castle. Soon, the teacher led a gaggle of tiny humans out the door. They waddled toward their parents. I sat in the car for a bit. I planned to wait until Julian was panicking that no one came for him, then pop out and scare him. But as soon as the teacher left, a group of kids surrounded Julian. I could faintly hear them chanting something about “Mommy… pick up.” Julian looked down, silent. The kids started clapping and jumping around him. Me: ??? Wait, were they bullying him? As a qualified evil stepmother, I immediately jumped out to ruin their fun. “Hey! You little brats! Why aren’t you going home? Did your parents abandon you? Huh? Did they?” I grabbed Julian, pulling him out of the circle, and glared at the kids. Exactly. I was going to offend all his friends. Isolate him further. “Who are you? Are you the Liar’s sister?” one kid asked. Being called “sister” was flattering, not gonna lie. But I snapped back, “What liar? Who’s a liar? Didn’t your teacher teach you manners? I’m Julian’s mother! Julian doesn’t like you, so don’t play with him anymore!” “Julian’s mom? His mom is the nanny! I saw her! She doesn’t look like you! He lied and said she wasn’t his mom. He’s a vain liar! We don’t want to play with him!” What kind of messy drama was this? “I am Julian’s mother!” I raised a fist threateningly. The brats giggled and ran away. Julian, who had been standing behind me, tugged on my shirt. He looked up at me with big, watery eyes. “Thank you for coming to get me today.” Wait… something feels wrong. Why is he thanking me? 5 My power move must have worked. When we got home, Julian was exceptionally obedient. He followed me around like a puppy. At dinner, he even peeled shrimp for me. He carefully placed a peeled shrimp in my bowl. Seeing I didn’t move, he added, “I washed my hands.” I picked up my chopsticks. Delicious. “Good job. Peel me a few more as a reward.” Julian pursed his lips and started peeling shrimp seriously. Eventually, I was too full, and he ate the leftovers. After dinner, I was stuffed. Time for some exercise. And for an evil stepmother, what better exercise than tormenting a child? I dragged eighteen shopping bags into the living room. I beckoned to Julian, who was playing with a puzzle. “Come here. Try on these clothes.” Julian’s clothes were usually custom-ordered and delivered. He probably never tried things on for fun. At first, he was excited. He even showed a little toothy smile. Until later. He choked out, “Please… I can’t try any more…” “But we still have the bumblebee, the penguin, the duck, and the monster costumes!” Julian went silent. He stood there in a green dinosaur onesie, looking at me with tear-filled eyes. Me: … Fine. Plan B. 6 At bedtime, I decided to inflict one final torture. I forced him to stay in my room. After he changed into his pajamas, I handed him a storybook. “Read me a story. Put Mommy to sleep.” Julian froze, as if he couldn’t comprehend how an adult could be so shameless. But he took the book. “Once upon a… a… there was a q… queen sitting by the… open… win… window…” Me: … I forgot he was five. He couldn’t read much. But this gave me an idea. Most kids love playing and hate studying. A truly evil plan formed in my mind. Julian was still stumbling through the story. He knew he was struggling. Seeing me stare at him, his face turned red, and his voice got quieter. “I… I… can I read it tomorrow?” I let out my signature villain laugh and snatched the book. “Lie down. Mommy will tell you a story. Tonight’s story is called Snow White and Her Seven Stepmothers.” Maximum horror. I don’t know if Julian fell asleep, but I definitely bored myself to sleep. In my haze, I felt something soft brush against my cheek. A small voice whispered, “Mommy.” 7 The next morning, after Julian went to school, I launched my “Tiger Mom” project. Math, English, piano, coding—I signed him up for everything. I hired the strictest tutors. I assigned the heaviest workload. I thought Julian would be devastated when he came home. Instead, he adapted perfectly. Especially with reading. He was trying so hard. A few days later, as I walked past the study, he poked his head out and read loudly: “Once upon a time, a queen sat by an open window, sewing!” He looked at me, face full of expectation. To encourage this (and my evil plan), I decided to let him read me a bedtime story every night as a “reward.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387016”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I landed back in the States after three years abroad, my childhood sweetheart was now a billionaire CEO, dating my doppelgänger. His mom hit me up immediately: “Ten million dollars. Get back with my son.” I politely declined. “Mrs. Sterling, you know the rules. A proper ‘the one that got away’ stays away. I’m supposed to be dead to him.” “One hundred million. Are you in or out?” “Say less. Satisfaction guaranteed.” 1 The day I touched down at JFK, my phone lit up with a call from a number saved as “Sugar Mama.” I smirked and answered. “Hi, Mrs. Sterling.” Yep. My ex-boyfriend’s mom is my primary investor. She’s the angel who funded my “study abroad” escape plan. “Chloe, I’ll give you ten million dollars. Get back with Liam.” “Mrs. Sterling, come on. Liam and I broke up three years ago. Plus, have you seen inflation? Even pork prices are up.” “…Thirty million. Drive that little girlfriend of his away.” “Mrs. Sterling, you know the drill. As a qualified ‘white moonlight’—his first love—I’m supposed to be a ghost. How could I meddle in their relationship?” She knew my style. Silence on the other end for a few seconds, then she gritted her teeth. “One hundred million. Do we have a deal?” Damn. Sugar Mama doesn’t play. I agreed instantly. “No problem. Consider it done.” She hung up immediately, like speaking to me was physically painful. Two minutes later, a notification popped up. Deposit received: $30,000,000. Gotta love a repeat customer. Pre-payment is standard procedure. I stared at the long string of zeros in my bank app, grinning like an idiot. On the airport TV screens, a news ticker flashed: [Billionaire CEO Liam Sterling drops $50 million on Malibu mansion for actress Seraphina Rose.] I looked up and saw that familiar face. Three years later, Liam had leveled up. The boyish softness was gone, replaced by a cold, sharp edge. He looked like a man who could ruin your life with a signature. Next to him was Seraphina Rose. A gorgeous actress who looked about 50% like me. I chuckled. Liam, you cliché. Playing the “replacement” trope? 2 Three years ago, my parents died in a car crash. My family’s company went bankrupt. I was eighteen, orphaned, and kicked to the curb by vultures posing as relatives. In the pouring rain, Liam pulled me into his arms. “Chloe, don’t be scared. I’ll protect you.” I held onto him, soaking up his warmth. Back then, he was just a kid. He had nothing but a sincere heart. He offered it to me on a silver platter. But in the real world? A sincere heart is worthless. So when his mom found me, slapped a ten-million-dollar check on the table, and told me to leave, I didn’t hesitate. The day I left, Liam called me a hundred times. He begged. “Chloe, don’t go. I’ll take care of you, okay? Please, don’t leave me!” It was the first time I heard the big-brother figure of my childhood cry. I comforted him gently, told him to be a good boy, and then blocked his number. 3 I sent my resume to the jewelry design firm owned by Sterling Corp, rented an apartment nearby, and started doing my homework on the last three years. Holy crap. For the first two years, Liam grinded. He went from the overlooked heir to the iron-fisted CEO in record time. My childhood friend became a tyrant, completely sidelining his own mother in the company. As for meeting Seraphina? Pure soap opera drama. A year ago, Seraphina was a nobody. Her shady agent tricked her into attending a “networking” party to sell her off to some old pervert. Liam, playing the white knight, saved her. Since then, the stoic CEO has been obsessed. He takes her to galas, feeds her resources, and spoils her rotten. They haven’t officially announced it, but everyone knows. “CEO and the Starlet?” I scrolled through fanfiction written by netizens. “Damn, the writing isn’t bad.” The lore was basically public knowledge. Seraphina’s backstory: Orphanage kid, mid-tier college, hustled from extra to leading lady. Very inspirational. Liam’s devotion: Buying her diamonds, dresses, mansions. Getting her roles. The conflict: Mama Sterling hates Seraphina. Liam fights his mom for her. Now I understood why Sugar Mama called me the second I landed. Back then, Liam just defied her to date me—a bankrupt orphan. She threw money at me to make me disappear. Now, he’s sidelining her for his new toy? She probably wants to murder Seraphina. 4 I settled in with my new Samoyed puppy from the pet store. I rubbed his fluffy head. “Money! Money! Who’s a good boy?” His name is Money. Manifestation, people. My phone rang. “Ms. White? Your application has been approved. When can you start?” “Tomorrow works.” I hung up and kissed the dog. “Lucky boy! The money is literally coming!” The next morning, I put on my “corporate baddie” outfit and walked into Sterling Tower. “Whoa! Are you Chloe?” A girl with a ponytail bounced over. “I’m Jess! I’m obsessed with your designs! Especially the ‘Rose Poetry’ collection! I can’t believe we’re coworkers!” I smiled. “Thanks. That’s my favorite too.” After all, the inspiration for ‘Rose Poetry’ was Liam. Jess was super bubbly, filling me in on office gossip. Two days later, Jess sprinted to my desk. “Did you hear? The Big Boss is coming for an inspection this morning!” “Which boss?” “Liam Sterling! And rumor has it he’s bringing his girlfriend.” Liam and Seraphina? I immediately grabbed my makeup bag and headed to the restroom. I thought I’d need time to get close to him. Who knew he’d deliver himself to my doorstep? Ex-girlfriend reunion rules: You must look better than them. 5 The floor was buzzing until the elevator dinged. Liam walked out holding Seraphina’s hand, fingers interlaced. Jess nudged me. “Hey, zone back in! Manager wants the design team in the conference room.” I walked in. Liam sat at the head of the table, looking sharp in a suit that probably cost more than my car. When we walked in, he glanced at the door. Our eyes met. I wondered how he’d react. He just looked away, indifferent. Like I was a stranger. A pang of bitterness hit my chest. I ignored it and sat down. The manager was bowing and scraping. “Mr. Sterling, Ms. Rose, the design team is here.” Liam looked at Seraphina. “You pick.” Seraphina smiled at us. “Sorry to bother everyone. Liam insisted on designing our one-year anniversary gift personally.” Barf. “I smell the stench of love,” Jess whispered. “By the way… is it just me, or do you and his girlfriend look kinda alike?” Before I could answer, Seraphina spoke up. “I heard Chloe just joined the team. Can I meet her?” I stood up, smiling. “Hi. Chloe White.” Seraphina looked surprised. “I love your work! I didn’t realize we had similar taste and similar faces!” 6 Provocation? Definitely. She wasn’t as innocent as the fanfics claimed. Whatever. I’m not a saint either. “Yeah,” I said, tucking hair behind my ear. I looked straight at Liam. “I’m surprised too. Three years later, Mr. Sterling’s taste hasn’t changed a bit.” I smiled sweetly. “Swapped the person, kept the model.” Seraphina’s face fell. Liam couldn’t sit still anymore. He stared at me with cold, dead eyes. “I’m not like some people. Flipping a switch, heartless and cruel.” The colleagues exchanged glances. The tea was piping hot. “Chloe, you’re funny.” Seraphina stepped between us, blocking Liam’s view. She forced a smile. “So, it’s decided! Liam’s anniversary gift for me… I’ll leave it in your hands!” She emphasized “anniversary gift” like she was marking territory. Sorry, girl. I’m immune. “You’re welcome. Remember to pay the 30% deposit upfront.” Strictly business. Even the boss’s girlfriend follows protocol. The room went silent. The bald manager looked like he wanted to laser-eye me into oblivion. Liam stood up, radiating menace. He sneered. “Don’t worry. You’ll get what’s yours.” He stormed out. The manager sighed. “Chloe White, what did you see in Mr. Sterling’s exit?” Me: “Tall, dark, and handsome?” “Wrong! Rage!” The manager face-palmed. “A great career path right in front of you, and you torched it!” Colleagues looked at me with pity or glee. Jess looked worried. “Chloe… being blunt is cool, but in corporate, you gotta play the game.” “Me?” I pointed at myself. “Oh, I’m playing the game. Hard.” My phone buzzed on the table. Unknown number. I picked up. A stranger’s voice. “Ms. White? This is Mr. Sterling’s assistant. He has a message for you.” “Wow,” I said. “Bosses are so arrogant these days. Can’t even speak for themselves?” Silence. Two seconds later, a familiar, gritty voice came through the speaker. “Chloe. If you want the deposit, unblock my number.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387015”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The night my seven-year Blood Pact with Lysander hit its climax, my body was wracked with the Curse. It felt like my veins were filled with razor blades. I waited for him. He was late. When he finally showed up at midnight, he wasn’t alone. He was cradling an unconscious woman in his arms. Curled in a ball of agony on the bed, I choked out his name. He ignored me completely, carrying her straight to his room and shouting for the old butler. “Check her! Now! Make sure she’s okay!” I heard the butler, bless his soul, try to plead my case. Lysander cut him off, impatient. “I’m not in the mood to feed from her right now! She can tough it out. It won’t kill her.” My last hope shattered. To survive the Curse without my master’s bite, I had to bleed myself. I gritted my teeth and sliced my own arms open. The sheets turned crimson. The metallic tang of blood filled the room. Even with his vampire senses, Lysander didn’t come. He smelled it, and he didn’t care. After hours of convulsions, the Curse finally subsided. Lying in a pool of my own blood, consciousness fading, I sent a telepathic message with the last of my strength. “I accept. Within three days, I will break my bond with him. And I will bond with you.” 1. I woke up bandaged. The overwhelming stench of blood was gone, replaced by the faint scent of tobacco. The butler had cleaned me up. Dizzy, I dragged myself out of bed, throwing on a jacket to hide the bandages. I wanted to thank him. I ran straight into Lysander in the hallway. He looked me over, saw I was standing, and his face went blank. “Prepare breakfast.” My head spun when I nodded. I grabbed the wall for support. He was already walking away. Habit took over. I prepared a bowl of animal blood and brought it to his room. The woman from last night was in his bed. I looked away and approached him. Lysander glanced at the bowl, scowled, and slapped it out of my hand. Blood splattered onto my jacket. “What is this? Get it out of here!” he hissed. The noise woke the woman. Lysander’s demeanor flipped instantly. He hovered over her, asking softly if she was okay. She smiled sheepishly. Her stomach growled. “I’m hungry.” Lysander pinched her cheek affectionately, then glared at me. “Go make real food. Now.” I realized my mistake. She wasn’t a vampire. She was human, like me. I backed out of the room and heard them talking. “Is she human too?” The woman, Lucy, sounded curious. “No,” Lysander said dismissively. “Just my blood thrall.” “Because of the Pact, I can only feed from her. So don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” The Blood Pact lasts five years. I had stayed two years past my expiration date. Because I wanted to. But to him, I was just a walking juice box. It was all in my head. Numbly, I took off my blood-stained jacket, peeled off the sticky gauze, and started cooking human food. Footsteps approached. Lysander entered the kitchen, drawn by the smell. “Why does it smell so strong?” Then he saw the angry slashes on my arms. He grabbed my wrist, staring at the wounds. “Did… did you do this to yourself last night?” When the Curse hits, the master has to drink from the thrall to break it. If not, the thrall has to cut themselves seven times to release the pressure. The lucky ones survive the pain. The unlucky ones go into shock and die. I was lucky. Like he said, I toughed it out. Didn’t die. The only thing that died was my hope. I pulled my hand back. “It’s fine.” My indifference pissed him off. His eyes went cold. “You blame me for not saving you.” “I wouldn’t dare, Master.” He turned off the faucet, stopping me from washing vegetables. “Don’t get the wounds wet. Stop working.” Another order. I ignored him and picked up a knife. He scoffed. “Suit yourself.” He walked away, then paused. “Next time, I’ll help you.” I didn’t answer. There wouldn’t be a next time. 2. The castle was dim, lit only by candles. Standard vampire decor. I was checking the blackout curtains when Lucy walked in. She clearly hated the darkness. “Can we go outside? Get some sun?” she asked Lysander. Lysander looked at her with pure affection. “Sure.” Years ago, I asked the same thing. He lectured me about how vampires can’t be in the sun and how I needed to learn the rules to survive in his world. As a thrall, you learn to read the room. I never asked again. Turns out, it wasn’t against the rules. It just depended on who was asking. Lucy grabbed Lysander’s arm and beamed at me. “Do you want to come too?” I froze. “I’ll stay here and prep dinner.” Her smile dropped. Lysander saw her disappointment and turned to me. “Come with us. Pack the food.” I looked up. In the candlelight, he finally noticed how pale I was from blood loss. His voice softened. “You’re injured. No feeding for a while. Just get me animal blood.” Lucy grabbed my hand enthusiastically. “Come on! You must miss the sun!” Her warmth was shocking. I flinched, accidentally tilting the candle. Hot wax dripped onto my hand. Lysander moved like lightning, pulling her hand away from the dripping wax. My skin burned. I watched him check her hand for damage, then silently switched the candle to my other hand. “I’ll go pack.” I rinsed the burn under cold water. Then I walked over to the calendar on the wall and circled the date. Three circles meant the Pact was fully matured. I would have one chance to break it. I packed the picnic basket and opened the heavy front doors. Sunlight flooded in. After a thousand days in the dark, my instinct was to flinch. Lysander, wearing a heavy cloak, let Lucy drag him out into the brightness. I followed them, stepping into the sun. The warmth hit my skin, and for some reason, I wanted to cry. I looked for Lysander, but my eyes landed on Lucy. She was tiptoeing, reaching for his hood. “Can I see your fangs?” She was glowing, healthy, hair shining in the light. Lysander held her waist and let her pull back his hood. He smiled, his pupils narrowing into slits, and bared his fangs. He wasn’t afraid of hurting her. Because he had me. I was the safety valve. I stepped back into the shadows of the trees, hiding my brittle hair and scarred hands. 3. The sun began to set. My shift at the station was starting soon. I stepped out to leave. Lysander looked surprised that I was still there. Before he could speak, Lucy asked, “I should head back too. Will you walk me?” Lysander nodded, then looked at me. “I’ll walk you too.” Travel between the vampire and human worlds happened via the Boundary Train. My second job was working the night shift at the station. Lysander had never offered to walk me before. “No need. Just take Miss Lucy,” I said, tired. He sensed my mood and stepped closer. “I’m walking you.” Lucy sensed the tension. She hooked her arm through his. “If it’s on the way, let’s go together. I hear you’ve known Lysander a long time. I’d love to hear some stories.” She was marking her territory. Lysander patted her hand, clearly enjoying it. I didn’t recognize this man. I stopped arguing and bowed like a good servant. “Thank you, Master. Miss.” I straightened up and locked eyes with Lysander. His gaze was dark. At the station, I went to the staff room. Lysander grabbed my arm. “Wait for me. I’ll take you back when I’m done.” Done? Was he coming back tonight? I didn’t ask. Lucy was staring at his hand on my arm. My pager beeped. My coworker needed me. I nodded and pulled away. They boarded the train to the human world and vanished. My shift was quiet. I watched the clock tick. The crowd of vampire commuters thinned out. The last train arrived. Lysander wasn’t on it. I went back to the staff room, put my head on the desk, and fell asleep. I was done waiting for someone who wasn’t coming. 4. I woke up in my own bed at the castle. Lysander was sitting beside me. The room smelled sweet. There was a slice of cake on the nightstand. “For you,” he said. In the dim light, I met his eyes, then looked away. “Thanks.” He frowned. “I had an emergency last night. I didn’t mean to leave you there. Lucy…” “It’s fine,” I cut him off. He’d ditched me a hundred times. What was one more? I was dizzy from hunger, so I reached for the cake. Lysander, annoyed that I interrupted him, kept talking. “She said women like sweet stuff. What else do you humans like?” My hand froze. The cake was a leftover from his date with Lucy. Of course. I pulled my hand back and lay down, closing my eyes. “Ask Lucy.” “You…” He glared at me. Ding. His phone buzzed. His expression softened instantly, and he bolted out of the room without another word. I got up and circled the second date on the calendar. I gave the cake to the old butler as thanks for patching me up. After a quick meal and changing my bandages, I headed to the station early. My coworker, Sarah, was surprised to see me. She told me she saw Lysander earlier. “Some pretty human girl wandered into the station alone. Place was crawling with vamps. She almost got eaten.” “Your master swooped in just in time. They were hugging. What’s the deal with them?” My chest ached. “I don’t know.” I handed Sarah some cookies I baked and asked about the breaking of the Pact. That was why I came early. Sarah had broken a Pact before. She looked at the bandages on my arms and didn’t ask questions. She just squeezed my shoulder and told me everything she knew. That night, I quit my job at the station. I walked back to the castle in the pitch black. The front door was unlocked. Inside, clothes were scattered on the floor. Heavy breathing echoed from Lysander’s room. The door was wide open. Lysander’s eyes were blood-red. His fangs were buried deep in Lucy’s neck. She wasn’t fighting him; she was clinging to him, moaning. I dropped my bag. Lysander’s head snapped up. He looked at me with wild, feral eyes. With a roar, he grabbed a heavy glass vase and hurled it at me. It smashed into my shoulder, shattering on the floor. “Get out!” I realized what was happening. The Turning. He drains her dry, marks her, then feeds her his blood. She becomes a vampire. Standing in the debris, shoulder throbbing, I looked at the man I had served for seven years. I picked up the Pact Chain he had discarded on the floor and walked out.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387014”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When my biological father, James Sterling, finally found me, I was on my knees begging on the street. It was the dead of winter. While the imposter, Chloe Sterling, was bundled up in a thick designer puffer jacket, I was in rags, my skin mottled purple from the biting cold. In my past life, I never wanted to fight her. Yet, she killed my dog, stole my parents’ love, and seized the inheritance that should have been mine. In the end, I was brutalized to death, all thanks to her orchestration. Now, my real dad held me tight, swearing to make everything up to me. I stared coldly at Chloe, who was holding my biological mother’s hand not far away, and smirked. Where should I start dissecting this snake? Chapter 1 My father carefully placed me into the passenger seat and cranked up the heat. Chloe, seeing me take her usual spot, pursed her lips and glared at me before turning to bury her face in my mother’s coat. “Mom… it’s hot…” I looked at my mother, putting on a desperate, pathetic expression of yearning for maternal affection. My birth mother’s heart twitched with guilt, but she still looked down to comfort Chloe. “Honey, maybe turn the heat down a bit?” I sneered internally. Look at this. This is my mother. For me, she has only guilt. All her love belongs to Chloe. “Luna has been freezing. She can’t get cold again,” my father frowned, disagreeing. He glanced at me, limp in the seat, barely breathing, and panicked. He touched my forehead. “Burning up! We need to get to the hospital, now!” At the hospital, they ran a full checkup. When the nurse came to draw blood, I rolled up my sleeve, exposing my arm. My skin, tanned dark from exposure, was a tapestry of scars. Burns, whip marks, old wounds layered under fresh ones. Not a single patch of unblemished skin. All gifts from my adoptive parents. They forced me to beg. If I didn’t bring back enough money, I got beaten. They even talked about selling my organs. I had to beg on my knees, sobbing that I could fetch a good bride price later, before they let it go. Zero dignity. And I shouldn’t have suffered any of this. It was my adoptive parents who secretly switched me and Chloe at birth, swapping our lives. Seeing my arm, Chloe screamed and buried her head in Mom’s chest. “Mommy! A ghost! Ahhh!” I flinched violently. The needle slipped, and blood gushed out. “Enough!” My father glared at Chloe with genuine anger. “Luna, I will find the best doctors in the world. You will heal.” I lowered my head. In my past life, I didn’t want to worry them. I always wore long sleeves and pants, even in summer. They just thought I was weird. This time, I’ll make sure their hearts bleed for me. The results came back: severe malnutrition, anemia, widespread skin infections, chronic pneumonia. My father clenched the report, trembling with rage. After calming down, he hugged me tight. “Luna, don’t worry. Those animals who hurt you… I won’t let a single one go!” I didn’t look at Chloe, but I knew she was sweating bullets. After all, those “animals” were her biological parents. If her real parents went to jail, her little act would be over. I stayed silent for a long moment, then spoke with a mix of hesitation and concern. “Father, Mom and Dad… I mean, Uncle and Auntie raised me for eighteen years. If you go after them, it might hurt your reputation. It’s a family scandal… I don’t want to make things difficult for you. You bringing me home is already enough for me. Let the past go.” Every word was calculated, distant yet forbearing. A hot tear landed on my cheek. My father patted my head, moved. “Luna, you are so sensible.” On the way back, my father arranged everything: a nanny, a driver, even a personal nutritionist and therapist. In the rearview mirror, I saw Chloe’s face twisted in jealousy. These were perks even she, the pampered princess, never had. This was the treatment for the real Sterling heiress. I smirked. If I’m right, the drama starts tonight. Chapter 2 We arrived at the Sterling mansion. My little brother, Max, came bounding out. He gave huge bear hugs to Mom, Dad, and Chloe, completely ignoring me. Mom looked at me awkwardly. I smiled. No surprise there. In my past life, Chloe painted me as a hypocritical villain, telling Max I was there to steal our parents’ love. A ten-year-old kid naturally hated me. Worse, the day I brought my dog, Dodo, home in my last life, Chloe framed Dodo for biting Max. Dad was furious. He slammed Dodo to death right in front of me and slapped me when I cried. My puppy was four months old. Even if he bit someone, it wouldn’t even break the skin. How could he hurt Max? “Max, this is your real big sister,” Mom said gently, pulling Max’s hand. Max clung to Chloe, eyes wide and glaring. “What smelly sister? I don’t want her! I only have one sister!” Chloe squeezed out some tears right on cue. “Mom, Dad… now that Luna is back, will you kick me out? Sob… I only have you guys… please don’t send me away. I’ll be good. I won’t fight with Luna for anything.” Mom, soft-hearted as always, hugged Chloe and wiped her tears. “Of course not! Mommy loves you most. How could I send you away?” Dad stood there, smoking, deep in thought. Chloe was clever. Playing the victim perfectly, making my return look like I was wrecking their happy family. I squeezed out two tears of my own and stepped forward, grabbing Chloe and Mom’s hands. “Forget Mom, even I couldn’t bear for you to leave, sister. Besides, your biological parents haven’t been found yet. Why not wait until then? I’m new here and don’t know how to be a good daughter. I still need you to teach me, sister.” Seeing me so cautious and obedient, Dad looked pained again. “Chloe can stay for now. I’ll have someone investigate her background.” He didn’t say she could stay forever, but he didn’t kick her out. Compared to my last life where he promised we’d be a “happy family of five,” this was a huge improvement. I winked at Chloe. Step one of killing a snake: Marinate it in fear. This is just the beginning, Chloe. I’m going to personally drag you into the hell I crawled out of. Back in my room, I finished the bird’s nest soup and supplements the nutritionist prepared. I put on silk pajamas and lay in the soft bed, plotting. It was time to bring Dodo back. Thinking of his death made my stomach cramp. Chloe told Dad that he loved citrus scents, so I sprayed Dodo with Jo Malone Lime Basil & Mandarin. Turns out, Dad was allergic to citrus. He sneezed constantly, never got close to Dodo, and scolded me, banning the dog from the house. The next day, Chloe brought Dodo inside, pinched Max until he screamed, and blamed the dog. Dodo died. I was kicked out, crying in the rain with his cold body all night. Chloe walked up to me with an umbrella, smiling. “Sister, I heard the dog meat place on the west side is great. Dodo was so well-fed, he must taste delicious, right?” I snapped. I strangled her. Just as I was about to finish her off, Dad showed up and knocked me out. When I woke up, I was deaf in my right ear from the blow. Someone filmed my attack on Chloe and posted it online. The internet called me a psychopath, a monster, and told me to die. I closed my eyes, pushing the memories away. Dad had already transferred me to a new school. Tomorrow, the battlefield shifts to the classroom. Chapter 3 In the morning, the nanny brought me several outfits. All of them were garish clashes of red and green, purple and orange. I glanced at her coolly. So, she’s Chloe’s dog too. In my last life, I was too timid to refuse. I wore these clown outfits to school, embarrassing my parents and getting mocked by classmates. This time, I was prepared. I pulled out a black, understated suit I bought myself. High ponytail, pearl clip. Classy. Low-key. The nanny looked honest, but I saw the ambition in her dull eyes. Last time, she pretended to be my ally, teaching me all the wrong things while feeding info to Chloe. Chloe used her to turn me into a “vulgar redneck.” Seeing her face made my blood boil, but I kept my cool. I smiled, eyes curving into crescents. “Auntie, grab me a bag of dried crab snacks. I’ll eat them after breakfast.” The nanny nodded and left. In the dining room, the family was already eating. Chloe was wearing a pink Chanel-style jacket, a white pleated skirt, and a pearl necklace. She was laughing while feeding Max sweet soup. I raised an eyebrow. Dressing like that for school? She’s really trying hard to sell the “rich princess” image. Too bad Dad hates flashy, frivolous styles. He prefers my vibe. Sure enough, Dad’s expression softened when he saw me. Chloe, seeing me, immediately piped up with fake concern. “Sister, in the Sterling family, we wait for everyone before eating. You’re late, the food is cold.” The nanny told me breakfast was at 7:30. It was 7:20. I clutched my chest, feigning weakness. “Thanks for reminding me, sister. But my health is poor, and the doctor said I need eight hours of sleep. I got back late yesterday… I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.” Mom and Dad immediately waved it off, eyes full of pity. I poured the crab snacks the nanny brought onto a plate. Suddenly, a pair of chubby hands snatched them. Max shoved the snacks into his mouth, crunching loudly, staring at me with triumphant, beady eyes. What a brat. Fighting over food. Dad frowned, about to scold him, but Mom laughed it off. Halfway through the meal, Max suddenly turned pale. He clutched his stomach and slid off the chair. “Max! Max, what’s wrong?! Don’t scare Mommy!” Mom was hysterical. Dad stayed calm, grabbed the car keys, and rushed Max to the hospital. Max was sent to the ER. Outside, Dad comforted a sobbing Mom. Chloe spoke up, voice trembling. “It was the crabs! Luna, how could you be so cruel? Poisoning a child! Max might not like you, but he’s your brother! Aren’t you afraid of breaking Mom and Dad’s hearts?” She turned to me, eyes wide with disbelief and tears. Her accusation lit a fuse in Mom. She lunged at me. Slap! My face burned and swelled instantly. Her eyes were cold, like I was her enemy, not her daughter. Dad stood aside, watching coldly. My heart ached dully. If you never saw me as a daughter, why bring me back? In my last life, I only realized the truth as I was dying. I was just a pawn. Businessmen value profit over parting. Their “family love” is just a mask. They wanted a perfect doll. Between the broken me and the exquisite Chloe, the choice was obvious. Last time, I craved love and acceptance, and I lost everything. This time, I only want revenge, money, and power. I looked at Dad, eyes misty, voice trembling. “I didn’t do it.” “I didn’t hurt him. I wanted to eat those snacks myself. He snatched them.” Chapter 4 Dad looked conflicted. The doctor walked out, sighing. “Who is the family?” Dad raised his hand. “How is my son? Poisoning?” “Poisoning? No. Kids have sensitive stomachs; he just choked on the dry crab. He’s fine now. But—you can’t mix tangerines and white radishes! Don’t you parents have common sense? That causes goiters!” “We didn’t give him that!” Dad protested. “Impossible. We asked the kid, he’s been eating it for a while. You people are so careless!” Dad’s face darkened. Max was watched by the nanny, and the nutritionist wouldn’t make that mistake. The only suspect… was the sweet soup Chloe made for him. Dad realized it too. He glared at Chloe, whose face was draining of color. “Father, I didn’t…” Mom stood there, torn between worry, guilt, and grief. Ignoring the drama, I walked into the ward. Max was lying there, rosy-cheeked, eyes tight shut. I sat down and poked his face. “Get up, Max. Stop faking.” His lashes fluttered, but he didn’t open his eyes. I continued, “Max, you ate those crab snacks on purpose, didn’t you? Looks like you were bullying me, but really, you knew Chloe’s soup was bad news. She’s too good at acting, so you had to cause a scene to expose her, right?” Max’s eyes popped open. He sat up like a spring. “How did you know?!” I pinched his nose. “Because I’m your real sister. Why didn’t you just tell Mom and Dad?” He pouted. “Real sister, so what? If it wasn’t an accident, she’d hurt me worse…” “Is it because when you told on her before, no one believed you, and they blamed you for not loving your sister?” Max went silent. I knew I hit the mark. I sighed and hugged him. “Max, remember this. I came back not to hurt you, but to protect you and kick that snake out. You can always trust me.” Chloe’s crying echoed from the hallway. After a long silence, Max spoke, and I felt my shoulder get wet. “I’m sorry.” Parents eventually figured it out. Chloe, in the name of love, had been feeding Max a toxic combo to make him sickly so he couldn’t compete for the inheritance. Dad was disappointed. He cut off one of her credit cards. Moving her from Dad’s heart wasn’t going to be easy. The next day, I went to school with Chloe. Dad transferred me to Class A at B City Foreign Language School—Chloe’s class. In my last life, Chloe promised to take care of me but sabotaged me at every turn. First day intros? She asked what talents I had. I turned red and said “nothing,” becoming the laughingstock for three years. I didn’t know English. In an all-English class, the teacher asked me questions, and Chloe translated them wrong on purpose, making the teacher hate me. They framed me for stealing, slapped me… I remember it all. I lowered my eyes to hide the hate. Chloe, you’re in for a surprise. Chapter 5 To save face, Dad told the school I was a daughter raised by my grandparents in the countryside, kept out of the public eye. When the teacher introduced me, I started my self-introduction in flawless, Oxford-accented English. In my last life, to please my parents, I spent countless nights practicing English. To them, it was worthless. Luckily, no effort is ever truly wasted. Chloe interrupted, feigning innocence. “Luna, what talents do you have? Tell us so we can play together!” I smiled at her. “Chloe, you’re so silly. We’re family. Don’t you know what I can do?” Chloe’s face stiffened. I ignored her and addressed the class confidently. “I’ve loved piano since I was small. I’m proficient in Go, calligraphy, and painting. Ballet, Latin dance, swimming, skiing—I can do them all. You’re all welcome to come over and see.” In my last life, people said I was timid, nothing like a Sterling. So I learned everything. Whatever Chloe could do, I learned. Whatever she couldn’t, I learned too. But Dad just called me a cheap imitation. Well, now I’ll use everything you despised to slap you in the face. Chloe leaned back, eyes full of suspicion. And… anticipation. Calculating the date, Dad should be planning my “Welcome Home” banquet soon. Good. Time to strike back. Even though I knew the high school curriculum by heart, I didn’t slack off. I studied hard while watching Chloe like a hawk. Chloe was chatting with her bestie, Jessica Liu. “Chloe, where did this sister come from?” “Luna… her status is special. She just came home recently.” Chloe hesitated, acting like she needed courage to speak, tears welling up. What a move. “Special status.” In rich families, that means illegitimate. A bastard child brought home means she’s dangerous enough to threaten the legitimate heir. She was implying I was the homewrecker’s daughter. Jessica, a hothead with a big mouth, exploded. Rumors spread like wildfire. Everywhere I went, I heard insults. “A bastard competing with the real princess? Does she deserve it?” “Born from a mistress, born cheap.” Then came the bullying. They called me names. Asked my price for a night. They tore my homework, wrote curses on the walls. They stalked me, investigated me… even tried to assault me. It was a carnival of cruelty. That day, Chloe led a group of girls dressed like punks to block me in the bathroom. They laughed, grabbing my arms. Long nails dug into my skin, drawing blood. Chloe, looking arrogant, kicked me in the stomach with her metal-tipped heels. I doubled over in pain, looking up with fake confusion. “Sister, how did I offend you? Why are you doing this?” Chloe’s exquisite face twisted. “Don’t think just because Dad spoils you, I can’t touch you. Blood related? So what? I am the only Miss Sterling! Listen, bitch, you are my dog. I own you.” She signaled, and the girls ripped my clothes. Chloe stood over me, taking photos with her phone. “This is just a warning. Next time, it won’t be this simple.” She slapped me, then stomped on me with her heels before storming out. I curled up, coughing, but a smile crept onto my lips. Sister, thanks for the “gift.” What should I get you in return?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387013”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I’ve been a ghost for ten years. A streamer found the photo I cherished most and launched a viral campaign across the internet: “#FindLiam.” When I saw him again, he was about to get married. I wanted to disappear so badly… But once I really did vanish, he ended up living a life of solitude until the bitter end. When he died, he was still clutching that half-burnt photo. 1 I died the night the psychiatric hospital caught fire. Because the building was a labyrinth, a lot of patients couldn’t make it out. We died in the flames. Since then, I’ve been haunting the hospital. At first, I had some company. Other ghosts stuck here. Later, they all faded away. I was the only one left guarding the ruins. I couldn’t stray far from the grounds, so I spent my days sitting by the window, killing time. I watched the sunset more times than I could count. Way more than forty-four times. Ten years passed like this. The hospital turned into a ruin. Weeds grew tall, thorns wrapped around the broken walls, and wild roses bloomed over the wreckage. The locals said the place was haunted. They told kids there was a female ghost who ate children, warning them to stay away or she’d snatch them. Total BS! I’ve never eaten anyone! And I definitely wouldn’t kidnap a kid! … One day, a girl showed up talking to her phone. “Hey guys, it’s your girl Chloe here. We’re at the legendary Whispering Hill Asylum. It’s been abandoned for a decade after a massive fire killed twenty-seven people. Rumor has it the youngest victim was only eighteen. The director went to jail for it. Tonight, we’re gonna see if the ghosts are real.” I leaned on her shoulder, peering at her phone. I realized what she was doing. She was livestreaming! Locals did this sometimes to make money. She shivered dramatically. “Even after ten years, you can see how intense the fire was. The walls are still black…” She walked and talked until she reached my old room. After scanning the pitch-black room, her eyes landed on a corner of the wall. Chloe crouched down and pulled a blackened tin box out of a hole in the plaster. I was stomping my feet next to her. 2 “That’s mine!” “It’s mine!” “Don’t touch it!” But she couldn’t hear me. She even opened the box. “Ah!” My secret was exposed just like that. She was the worst! She picked up the photo inside, which had been burned in half. She held it to the camera: “Look, guys! The girl in this photo is so pretty. She looks super young. I wonder if she was even eighteen.” I huffed angrily. “Don’t think calling me pretty will make me forgive you! And I was eighteen! I was an adult!” I even had a boyfriend! The comments floated across the screen: Is she the eighteen-year-old victim? Don’t touch the dead’s belongings, especially if they died young. That’s bad luck! So sad. Dying that young. I heard that hospital was run like a prison. That’s why so many didn’t escape. Wait, there’s a shoulder next to her in the photo. Black shirt. Looks like a guy. Maybe the person she liked? Psychos have crushes? Imagine being liked by a crazy person. Creepy. Seeing the comments made me sad. I wasn’t a psycho. I just… I had autism. My dad said if I stuck to the treatment, I’d get better and I could date. I could like people. I wasn’t crazy. Chloe frowned at her phone. “If you can’t speak human, get out of my stream. Calling people ‘crazy’—you look in the mirror lately? You’re the weirdos.” I decided Chloe might not be that bad. She flipped the photo over. Two words were written on the back. “Liam Ford.” Liam was my first love. Because I refused to go to school, he became my home tutor starting my junior year. He was nineteen then. My dad said he was brilliant. We went to the same high school. He was the city’s top scholar, an Ivy League student, skipped grades, and secured a spot in a top tech grad program by his junior year of college. “Let him tutor you, okay?” 3 I didn’t speak. Whether I agreed or not, he was going to be my tutor. My dad had hired many tutors before Liam. But during class, I liked to do other things—drawing or woodcarving, lost in my own world. Those tutors always quit. When Liam first arrived, I ignored him too. I assumed he’d badmouth me behind my back. Give me weird nicknames. People thought I was stupid because I didn’t talk or tattle. That’s what they all did. But he just kept lecturing in my ear, not caring if I listened. Actually, I understood most of it. After class, he pulled out some worksheets. “These cover today’s lesson. Do them if you have time. I’ll go over them tomorrow.” I didn’t do them. Not interested. I doodled all over his test paper. He said, “That’s a pretty nice frog.” It was clearly a monster! How could it be a frog?! So annoying. “Did I say something wrong?” I ignored him. He lowered his eyes and started teaching. Liam had long eyelashes. When he blinked, they looked like butterfly wings. Liam was always calm. He didn’t seem to care if I ignored him. “Did you understand this question? If not, tell me, and I’ll explain it again.” He tapped the desk with his fingertip. I ignored him. “Since you understood, let’s move to the next one.” When I didn’t understand, I’d turn my head and look at him, and he’d explain it again. I thought it was fun, so I deliberately looked at him again after he finished explaining. After five times, Liam was still chill. Weird. Didn’t he ever get mad? A month later, I spoke my first sentence to him. 4 “What is a little monster?” Why did my classmates call me that? Liam paused, then asked, “Who said that?” I didn’t tell him. “Did someone call you that?” I nodded. Then he drew a picture for me. He asked, “What is this?” “A snake eating an elephant.” Liam smiled faintly. “But most people think it’s a hat.” How silly. He said, “People always reject views that are different from their own. They think you’re different from them, so they’re prejudiced. The prejudice is the monster, not you.” “But I am different from normal people.” “You’re just… very unique. Everyone is different. It’s no big deal.” No one had ever told me these things. He asked, “Want to know the story behind this drawing?” I nodded. “Finish this worksheet, and I’ll tell you.” Fine. Liam brought me The Little Prince. I felt like I was as unique as the Little Prince. Liam was even more unique. The Little Prince lived on a planet where he could see the sunset forty-four times a day. “Liam, I want to see the sunset forty-four times a day too.” “If you get into Stanford, I’ll take you to see it.” I hesitated. I didn’t like school, and I didn’t like the people out there. But if Liam was there, maybe the outside world wouldn’t be so hateful. 5 After I got into Stanford, Liam took me there. In the school auditorium, I saw forty-four sunsets. Liam coded the program and projected it with models. He said he wouldn’t be tutoring me anymore. “Why?” “You graduated.” “Liam, I like you.” High school was over, but my like wasn’t. “You’re still young. You haven’t seen the outside world.” I understood. Liam didn’t like little monsters either. “Liam, I’m not stupid. If you don’t like me, just say it. Don’t invalidate my feelings.” I rarely spoke such long sentences. Just because I didn’t like talking didn’t mean I didn’t have my own thoughts. Liam froze. I knew a lot of people liked Liam. I could read that look in their eyes. But Liam didn’t understand my like. He didn’t know that he was the only one I let into my world. If he didn’t want to come in, then fine. I stopped talking to Liam. No matter what he said, I wouldn’t listen. If I wanted to, I could block out all external sounds and live only in my own world. When I was little, I couldn’t understand what others said, and I couldn’t come out of my world. I didn’t understand why my mom cried over me. When she left, I didn’t feel anything special. 6 Later, after long-term therapy, I learned how to step out of my world. Although I still didn’t understand complex emotions most of the time. But I knew tears meant sadness. And my mom didn’t abandon me because she didn’t want me. After meeting Liam, I learned what “like” meant. Liking meant wanting to share my world with him, wanting to be with him, doing nothing and still being happy. When I told Liam my weird thoughts, he would think seriously before responding. Even if it wasn’t the answer I wanted, I liked Liam’s answers. After Liam rejected me, when he dropped me off at my door, he asked, “Are you never going to talk to me again?” He didn’t like me anyway, so why care what I thought? But I nodded honestly. “Can’t we still be friends?” “But I like you. You don’t like me. I’ll be sad.” “If you like someone else, if you’re with someone else, I’ll be sad too.” “So, I can’t be friends with you.” Liam was silent. Just as I was about to leave, Liam grabbed my wrist. He said, “I don’t want you to be sad.” So Liam and I got together. He was the same as before, texting me every day, calling me, telling stories, taking me out to play. We rode the Ferris wheel and watched dolphins. When I was scared, he held my hand. But my dad found out and forbade me from seeing him. My dad said he was poor and dating me to scam our family’s money. I didn’t know how to explain, I just kept repeating: “No, no, no…” Liam wasn’t that kind of person. “He likes me, and I like him.” My dad said, “Do you know what like is? How could a normal person like him actually like you! He just sees you’re easy to trick! I never should have hired him as your tutor!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387012”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

It had been two months since I broke up with Julian after our cold war, and he still hadn’t sent me a single text. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was ready to cave and apologize first. But that very day, I suddenly received a confession from the school’s poorest student, Hudson. I was about to reject him when a wall of text—like a livestream chat—flashed before my eyes: “LMAO, the side chick actually thinks Hudson likes her.” “He just lost a bet with the female lead. He’s forced to confess.” “Poor male lead. Just realized his crush is pushing him away, and now he has to get rejected by this shallow, gold-digging prom queen.” “Must be heartbroken!” “It’s okay, it’s okay! Once he gets reclaimed by the billionaire Harper family in New York, worth billions, our female lead will come running back!” …Wait, what? The Harper family from New York? The super rich one? Hold up! Pause the makeup session. I want this broke boy! 1 I am a gold digger. But I’m good at hiding it. Usually, I treat all my classmates equally and with kindness. Except when it comes to dating. My bottom line is non-negotiable— He has to be rich. And, of course, hot. Julian was the closest thing to my ideal in my eighteen years of life. His family is loaded, old money. Rumor has it they’re second only to the Harper family in New York. Of course, a family like the Harpers is out of my league. Julian was arrogant, cold, and high-maintenance. I chased him for months before he finally agreed to be my boyfriend. But once we were together, he constantly complained that I wasn’t clingy or caring enough. He’d threaten to break up over anything. “Let’s just end it. You only chased me for my money anyway.” “I saw you talking to the basketball captain. Interested in him now?” “Don’t let that used McLaren fool you; it’s worthless.” “Block his number right now, or I’m done!” This happened all the time. By now, he’d practically monitored every good-looking guy in my contacts. Two months ago, Julian picked another fight. The reason? I was twenty minutes late to his birthday party. “This shows you don’t value me!” “You weren’t late to the school assembly! Am I less important to you than the principal?” “Let’s break up. We need to cool off!” Same old routine. Are they even comparable? I’m not a trust fund baby like him. I can’t just offend the principal whenever I feel like it. I was getting tired of it anyway, so I just went along with it. “Fine. Break up then.” “Don’t contact me.” 2 That day, Julian’s face went pale. He glared at me for a long time before smashing a bottle of wine worth thousands on the floor. And true to his word, he never contacted me again. Two months passed. I calmed down. Let’s face it, Julian was the ceiling of what I could reach. Who doesn’t love money? My family is average. My parents favor my younger brother and give him everything good. I want out. But I’m not smart enough. Even studying my butt off only gets me into the top 80 of my grade. My biggest asset is this face… So what if I use my looks to get ahead and satisfy my ambition? What’s wrong with that? Thinking like this made me feel better instantly. School was just letting out. Julian had been playing basketball every afternoon lately. I packed my bag and headed to the courts. I planned to intercept him, apologize, act cute, and smooth things over. But just as I reached the gym entrance, someone unexpected called my name— Hudson. 3 Hudson. Our school’s famous genius. Always number one in the grade. He’s 6’2″, super hot, and once narrowly beat Julian for the title of School Hottie— One of those votes came from me. No ulterior motive. Hudson is just exactly my type. My Libra nature demanded fairness, so I gave him a vote. But aside from that, I had almost zero interaction with him. He kept to himself, barely speaking to anyone. Rumors said someone saw his mom scavenging for vegetable scraps at the market. Others said his dad died young, and his grandma was sick, costing tens of thousands a year in medical bills. Basically, Hudson’s family was struggling. He applied for financial aid every year and worked part-time at a boba shop and a convenience store. In the cafeteria, he only bought the two cheapest veggie dishes. Even the girls wouldn’t be full on that, let alone a growing boy. Once, feeling generous, I took fifty bucks from my allowance and secretly slipped it into his pencil case. Anonymous. Now, at the gym entrance. When Hudson called my name, I frowned— Did he find out about the fifty bucks? In those cliché novels, these poor but proud scholars usually have massive egos. He probably thinks I was trying to humiliate him. Is he here to pick a fight? Before I could come up with a defense, his next words stunned me. “Sophia.” “I like you.” “Will you be my girlfriend?” 4 I was dumbfounded. The gym entrance was crowded. I looked back toward the basketball courts. Julian had walked out without me noticing. He must have just finished playing; sweat was dripping from his forehead. A few of his friends were around him, all looking at us with interest. They were talking loudly, not bothering to lower their voices. “Hey, isn’t that Sophia, Julian’s ex?” “Ex? Watch your mouth, bro. Ex-girlfriend!” “Haha, right! Ex. Gotta say, Sophia’s got backbone this time. Two months! Usually, she’d be crawling back by now.” “Did she find a rebound?” “Oof, Hudson. The scholarship kid.” “Julian, you think she’ll say yes?” Hearing them, I felt awkward. I instinctively looked at Julian. I wanted to give him a look, tell him not to misunderstand. But he never even looked my way. He just bounced the ball, looking bored. Like he was watching something completely irrelevant to him, he smirked mockingly. “Hm?” “Why would I care? Hudson’s a top student. If he likes Sophia, she’s punching up.” My heart sank. Julian really didn’t like me much, did he? He only accepted me because I chased him so hard. Agreeing to break up must have been a relief for him. That’s fine. Not trying to get back together saves me some dignity. 5 Even though I wasn’t planning on getting back with Julian, I wasn’t going to say yes to Hudson either. We’d spoken maybe twenty sentences in three years of high school. Starting a relationship out of nowhere seemed irresponsible to both of us. Just as I was about to reject him, a wall of text floated before my eyes— “Here it comes! The drama! The male lead confesses to the side character!” “Haha, look at her face. Does she really think Hudson likes her?” “It’s just a dare he lost to the female lead. Forced confession.” “Sigh, poor guy. Just realized his crush doesn’t like him and is pushing him to someone else. Now he has to get rejected by this shallow girl.” “Must hurt!” “Don’t worry! Once he gets reclaimed by the billionaire Harper family in New York, worth billions, our female lead will come running back!” …What? The Harper family? New York billionaires? My heart rate spiked. I knew some gossip about the Harpers. Rumor had it Mrs. Harper was frail and only had one child. But due to a business rivalry, that son was kidnapped at four or five. Lost. Never found. Over a decade later, despite expanding their empire, the Harpers never stopped looking. The text kept scrolling. “Almost there! Three months until Hudson gets found!” “The Harper family is abroad right now. Once they meet the kidnapper in London and get the info, they’ll fly back immediately…” “Our boy won’t have to suffer anymore!” Three months. Okay. For someone who loves money as much as I do, how could I let a golden ticket slip away? I crinkled my eyes into a perfect smile. “Sure.” “I accept, Hudson.” I was so shocked by the floating text that I didn’t notice Julian behind me. I didn’t see his face go pale or his fingers tremble. 6 “What? She said yes?” “No way! Isn’t she a gold digger?!!!” “She only dated Julian for his money. Total snob.” “In the plot, she’s supposed to regret it only after Hudson becomes rich!” “Exactly!” “Besides, what about our Wendy?” Wendy. Hudson’s childhood friend. The “female lead” the chat was talking about. They said Wendy made a bet with Hudson to make him confess to me because she liked Julian (the “second male lead”) and wanted to kill any chance of Julian and me getting back together. In the original story, I rejected Hudson, and Julian didn’t take me back. Instead, this “pure” childhood friend went to comfort Hudson immediately. Hudson didn’t have feelings for me, but being rejected publicly is awkward. Wendy, the mastermind, played the innocent flower. She kept Hudson on a hook while spreading rumors that I was a shallow girl who looked down on poor people’s feelings. But secretly, she chased Julian. Until Hudson was found by his rich family. Then she finally “accepted” his feelings. Happy ending for everyone. 7 I had to admit, this girl was good. If she hadn’t dragged me into this stupid bet and spread rumors about me, we might have been friends. But not anymore. I wasn’t going to be nice to someone who wished me ill. I glanced at the corner. Wendy looked shocked that I said yes. She froze for a second, then looked delighted as she turned to Julian. Rumor had it I pestered Julian into dating me, and he was sick of it. Now that he was finally free, he must be happy, right? But as I stepped forward and took Hudson’s hand, the crowd gasped— Julian slammed the basketball onto the ground. Face blank, he pushed through the crowd and stormed out without a word. His friends chased after him, apologizing to the people he shoved. “Sorry, sorry, urgent business.” “No, he’s not mad! Julian’s in a great mood!” “Why the scary face? Maybe he didn’t play enough… hehehe…” “Don’t ask, we gotta go! Bye!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387011”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After bombing my SATs, I changed my number, deleted my socials, and ghosted everyone I knew. Eight years later, at our high school reunion, the class president leaned in and whispered a secret: “Finn Sterling had a crush on you.” I spent days digging through boxes until I found my old phone and logged into the messaging account I had abandoned years ago. And there it was. A message sitting quietly in my inbox, unread for eight years: “Which college are you going to? Can I come with you?” But now? Finn Sterling is a world-famous superstar. 1 The sun was brutal today. I felt dizzy from the heat, and if you looked closely, you could probably see steam rising from the pavement. Traffic was a nightmare. To avoid being late, I bailed out of the cab and sprinted the rest of the way to the airport. Thirty minutes until Finn Sterling’s flight landed. He was the big shot our company spent a fortune to sign—a red-hot A-list celebrity. He was also my high school classmate. Two days ago, at the reunion, I laughed off the class president’s secret. “Finn Sterling? Having a crush on me? Yeah, right! That wouldn’t even happen in a fanfic. He’s Finn Sterling. If every one of his fangirls just spit once, I’d drown.” Anyone could like me, but not Finn. We were never on the same wavelength. High school Finn probably couldn’t stand me. 2 Finn Sterling was number one in everything. He dominated the trending topics, had zero scandals, and was the golden boy for every major brand. But he was an anomaly in the entertainment industry—focused solely on acting, never doing commercials. So when he suddenly agreed to collaborate with our company, it sent shockwaves through the industry. Countless massive corporations were lined up ahead of us, but he chose us. My boss was so excited he called emergency meetings all night. Somehow, the task of picking him up from the airport fell on me. The boss patted my shoulder earnestly. “Sarah, you have to take good care of Finn. Whatever he says, goes. Make him feel the warmth of home while he works with us.” I thumped my chest and promised, “Don’t worry, boss. I’ll do my best.” I said it with confidence, but inside, I was freaking out. In my memory, we weren’t close in high school. We barely interacted. But I was terrified of him because he looked scary as hell. Finn didn’t talk much. He always slouched in the back row, chin resting on his hand, dark eyes, high nose bridge, looking at people with indifference. That was high school Finn. 3 Stepping into the airport, I checked the time. Just made it. But what I didn’t expect was the crowd. It was packed. Fans everywhere. Before I could even process it, someone started screaming. “Finn’s here! My god! My god!” “Ah! It’s really him! He’s so handsome!” “He looked at me! He looked at me!” I sighed. The charisma of a top star was no joke. Finn was popular even in high school. Even though he always had a face like someone owed him money, that face was blessed by the gods. People couldn’t help but look at him. I was drawn to him too. But every time I looked, he’d avoid my gaze and frown slightly. After a few times, I stopped looking. I figured I should know my place. In high school, I was the class academic rep, but I was the type who only knew how to study hard. Since childhood, the phrase I heard most was: “Sarah, you have to work hard. You have to work harder than everyone else. We don’t have connections. Only by studying hard can you compete for a future with those who were born at the finish line.” So my childhood was dull. I didn’t know if I was happy, I was just used to it. Like this was how I was supposed to be. My classmates called me a nerd behind my back. So at the time, I thought someone like Finn must hate a student like me the most. Lost in my memories, the screaming around me suddenly stopped. A shadow fell over me. I looked up. The handsome man in front of me merged with the face in my memory. Unlike the brashness of his youth, he was now composed and elegant. Security and staff surrounded him. Finn looked relaxed. He extended a hand to me, his cool voice hitting my ears: “Hello, I’m Finn Sterling.” I reached out dumbly. He didn’t remember me. Makes sense. I was basically invisible in high school. But the moment our hands touched, Finn chuckled softly. His large hand enveloped mine. Finn rarely smiled on screen, so the fans around us went crazy again—screaming, shutters clicking like machine guns. Despite the noise, I heard him clearly. He said, “Sarah, long time no see.” His lazy tone made my heart tingle. Maybe it was the heat, but my face was burning. I wiped the sweat from my face and whispered, “Long time no see, Finn. I’m the pickup personnel from Zenith Group.” 4 We left the airport, but the luxury car the company sent was stuck in traffic. The sun was blinding. Suddenly, Finn took a step forward, his shadow shielding me from the glare. I looked up at him. His expression hadn’t changed much. I had to admit, he’d changed a lot. The guy who used to be so arrogant was now so steady. When we finally arrived at the company, Lily and her team were already waiting in the conference room. Lily, the hottest actress of the moment. Seeing Finn, Lily immediately stood up and greeted him familiarly. She’d worked with Finn on three dramas, all as leads. Even though they weren’t romance dramas, plenty of people online shipped them. This time, they were collaborating on our company’s perfume commercial. Seeing them talking together, I had to admit, they looked good. With everyone present, the boss called a meeting. After some pleasantries, Finn suddenly spoke up. “Mr. Sullivan, my assistant is on leave for a while. I was hoping your company could arrange a staff member to fill in temporarily.” Finn was a VIP. A small request like this had to be granted. The boss scanned the room and met my eyes. I suddenly had a bad feeling. No, boss, please no! I’m scared, don’t pick me! I frantically winked and shook my head at him. But he acted like he didn’t see it and pointed right at me. “How about Sarah? I heard you were in the same high school. You should be familiar with each other.” Familiar my ass. We barely spoke. Bad memories of high school flashed through my mind. I slammed the table in panic, my voice loud and firm: “I’m not worthy!” Finn looked up at me, danger in his eyes. “Reason.” Realizing everyone was staring, I stammered an excuse. “I feel like someone of Mr. Sterling’s status deserves a more excellent assistant. My abilities aren’t up to par.” I sat down nervously. The room was silent. Everyone looked at Finn. Finn leaned back in his chair, tapping his long fingers on the table, his tone indifferent. “Mr. Sullivan, I’m a nostalgic person. I like working with old classmates. If your company can’t even show this much sincerity, there’s no need to continue our cooperation.” He was talking to my boss, but his eyes were fixed on me. I squirmed in my seat. At this point, the boss didn’t care if I lived or died. He beamed at Finn. “Of course, of course. It’s Sarah’s blessing to be Mr. Sterling’s assistant. Don’t worry, Sarah is just modest. She’s very capable. She’ll do her best to make Mr. Sterling feel the warmth of home here.” Meeting adjourned. Finn stayed in his seat. I tried to sneak out with the crowd, but as I passed him, he grabbed my wrist. Finn said quietly, “We were in the same class. Do you have to avoid me like the plague? Sarah, you hid from me in high school, but we’re not in high school anymore. Tell me why.” I took a step back. People were watching. One photo and I’d be trending. But Finn wasn’t letting me go. He leaned in closer, his voice seductive. “Hm? Old classmate?” I looked down, avoiding his eyes. My face was probably redder than a monkey’s butt. Seeing me cower, Finn tutted in displeasure. His hand slid from my shoulder to the back of my neck. The cold touch of his watch sent shivers down my spine. I struggled uncomfortably and looked up at him. Finn’s face was terrifyingly dark. I heard him grit his teeth. “Your boss said you have to do your best to make me feel the warmth of home. Sarah, nothing less will do.” 5 I’ve always bowed to life’s pressures. After flunking the SATs, I went to a mediocre college. Getting into Zenith Group was dumb luck. To keep my job, I gave Finn a sweet smile. “Of course, Finn. I’ll do my absolute best to make you feel at home. It’s an honor to be your assistant.” I looked him sincerely in the eyes. We were very close. Finn suddenly looked away uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, it’s not like it has to be you, but since we’re old classmates, it’s better to be familiar.” I nodded outwardly, but inside I was screaming. Familiar? We barely spoke! He frowned every time we made eye contact! I didn’t know him at all! But since I was his personal assistant now, I had to learn his preferences and habits. I stayed late to organize the info. By the time I finished, it was dark. I shut down my computer and got up to leave. In the hallway, a familiar figure caught my eye. Finn. In the dim light, he was leaning against the wall, a cigarette in his mouth. The metal lighter in his hand glinted cold. He occasionally checked his phone, the screen’s faint light casting shadows on his face. I called out, “Finn?” He turned, instinctively snuffing out the cigarette. “Off work?” I nodded. “Why are you still here?” Finn explained awkwardly, “Oh, your company is huge. Lost track of time touring.” Lame excuse. Only an idiot would believe that. But I didn’t dare call him out. “Yeah, it is pretty big.” Silence. I looked calm, but I was practically shredding my bag strap. Awkward. What to say? Finally, Finn spoke. “Heading home? I’ll drive you.” I waved my hands, refusing a bit too loudly. “No need! No, really. I’ll just grab a cab. Don’t want to trouble you.” Finn looked at me and chuckled softly. He pinched the back of my neck and guided me forward. “Old classmates. No trouble. Don’t overthink it. I drove, it’s on the way.” 6 Just like that, I was in Finn’s car. My first time in a luxury ride. But before I could even tell him my address, Finn started the car and drove straight towards my place like he already knew where it was. He actually found it! He parked right downstairs. I was about to ask how he knew where I lived, but Finn spoke first. “Sarah.” “Yeah?” Finn didn’t look at me. His gaze was fixed ahead, hands on the steering wheel like he was bracing himself. “Do you still use that QQ account?” I was confused. “Which QQ account?” (Note: In this localized version, QQ refers to an old messaging app popular back then, like how Americans used AIM or Kik). “The one in the yearbook.” Finn turned to look at me. If you looked closely, there was nervousness hidden in his dark eyes. I shook my head. “Nope. After the scores came out, I changed everything.” Finn seemed to let out a long breath. He muttered, “So you just stopped using it. You didn’t intentionally…” “Huh?” I was confused. “What?” Finn looked at me, unable to hide the smile in his eyes. “Sarah, I wanted to take it slow with you, but I changed my mind. We’re adults. Being coy is ridiculous.” I was even more confused. “Finn, what are you talking about?” Finn leaned back in his seat, relaxed. “Go home and log into your old account. You’ll understand.” 7 Finn was being cryptic. As soon as I got home, I tore the place apart looking for my old high school phone. I couldn’t remember the username or password, or even the phone number tied to it. An hour. It took a full hour to find the old phone. It was in a small box, covered in dust. Inside the box, besides the phone, were my high school certificates. Seeing these things again made me sigh. I was actually a great student in high school. I worked harder than anyone. While others played, I studied. I was always first in exams. My parents were proud. But the SATs… I choked. Everyone expected me to ace it, but I bombed. I wasn’t surprised though. I knew it the moment I walked out of the exam room. I knew how bad my mental state was. I was too nervous. Everyone’s expectations were crushing me. Everyone told me to do well, or I’d be letting them down. My hands shook uncontrollably during the test. I hyperventilated. I kept checking the clock, terrified I’d run out of time. I left huge chunks of the test blank. I didn’t dare tell anyone. My parents had high hopes. When the results came out, they signed me up for a prep school to retake the year without even asking me. They looked at me with disappointment. “Do you know how much we sacrificed for your education? Sarah, you’ve disappointed us so much. Do you know how much face we lost?” That’s when I realized my grades were the only thing about me they cared to show off. Everyone assumed I’d retake the year. But that summer, I quietly packed my bags, changed my number, cut off everyone from high school, and had my first real fight with my family. I went to an average college, but I was happy. It was the first time I chose my own life. Do I regret it? Not at all! I’d do it again. I was a teenager. I deserved to be happy. Grades weren’t everything. I missed out on a lot, and I didn’t want to do it over.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387010”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 For three hours, I stood at a bus stop in a torrential downpour, waiting for Hugh. He never showed. Just as I was about to give up and call a car, I saw the message he’d sent five minutes earlier: Something came up. Can’t make it. A second later, his assistant posted a photo to her Instagram story. The familiar dashboard of his car. The caption read: *Thanks for the ride home, boss! ~* The old me would have blown up his phone, calling and texting, demanding an explanation. But now? I just tapped the screen and liked her post. Later, when I packed my bags and left without a word, he would fall apart, searching for me like a madman. He would beg, “I can change. Just don’t leave me.” … A once-in-a-decade storm hit the city. After work, my colleagues left one by one, until I was the only one left, finishing up a report. A text from Hugh lit up my screen. [The rain’s pretty bad. I’ll come get you.] I knew it was an olive branch. Last weekend was our wedding anniversary. I’d booked our favorite restaurant, but he never arrived. I waited until they were closing, and only then did I see the post from his assistant, Jenna. A photo of Hugh, his chiseled profile sharp in the dim restaurant lighting. The caption: *Happiest birthday ever. Thanks for the treat, boss! ~* When he finally came home, I showed him the picture. He just impatiently pushed my hand away. “She’s a young girl, all alone in the city on her birthday. What’s wrong with me, as her boss, showing a little concern? Stop making a scene! We can celebrate our anniversary any other year, can’t we?” He was right. We could celebrate it any other year. But couldn’t she do the same for her birthday? We hadn’t spoken since. Today was the tenth day. In the past, I would have been the one scheming for a way to make up. A message like this from him would have sent me over the moon. Now, I felt nothing. I simply replied, [Okay.] We had agreed on six. The curb in front of my office was a no-parking zone, so I walked to the bus stop down the street to wait. By nine, the rain was coming down in sheets. Even huddled under the awning, the storm had soaked the cuffs of my pants. And still, no Hugh. I pulled out my phone to call an Uber and saw the notification. A new post from someone I had on ‘close friends.’ It was Jenna. The picture of his dashboard. That limited-edition model—there were only two in the entire city, and one of them was his. Hanging from the rearview mirror was the good luck charm I’d gotten from a little chapel upstate last year. He’d scoffed when I put it there. “This thing is hideous. It clashes with my car’s interior.” I had to beg him just to let it stay. Remembering that, a sudden sense of release washed over me. I liked the post. He wasn’t coming. The rideshare app showed over a hundred people in the queue ahead of me. I glanced down at my damp clothes and turned toward the bike share rack instead. Hugh wasn’t home when I got there. I took a scalding hot shower and chugged a packet of cold medicine, but as I drifted off to sleep, I could already feel a dizzying fever setting in. I was woken sometime later by the sound of the front door opening. Hugh was home. He must have been surprised to find me asleep already. He walked to the side of the bed and just stood there. I could feel his gaze on me, but I felt too sick to move, so I didn’t. After a moment, his footsteps retreated, followed by the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. The low hum was like a lullaby, and I drifted back into a heavy sleep. When my alarm went off the next morning, my head was spinning. I fumbled for my phone, unable to turn it off immediately. Hugh let out an irritated “tsk,” and the sound finally jolted me awake. I was burning up. My head throbbed, but I had to lead a major meeting today. I dragged my aching body out of bed and got ready for work. When I got to the office, a coworker saw my flushed face and rushed over, pressing a hand to my forehead before fetching me some fever reducers and a cooling patch. A text from Hugh came through. [Are you mad at me?] I didn’t understand. [Then why didn’t you make me breakfast?] Ever since we got married, I’d made his breakfast every single morning, even during our cold wars. Not that he ever ate it. This morning, in my feverish haze, I had forgotten. But his tone, so matter-of-fact, like he was ordering a servant around, made my brow furrow. I typed back a simple reply. [Forgot. Get something on your way.] I was buried in work for the rest of the day and didn’t look at my phone again. Just before closing time, another message appeared. [I’ll pick you up.] I didn’t argue. I agreed. But after waiting downstairs for half an hour, his car was nowhere in sight. My phone rang. It was Hugh. “Are you downstairs?” I scanned the street. “I’m right by the entrance. I don’t see you.” He let out a heavy sigh on the other end. I knew that sound. It was the sound he made when he was losing his patience with me, his jaw tight as he tried to rein in his frustration. He was probably trying to make up for last night, so he reined in his temper and asked, his voice strained, “Did they change the main entrance?” A suspicion began to form in my mind. “Are you at the Sterling Building?” His voice rose, laced with indignation. “Of course I am! You think I don’t know where you work?” He didn’t. Our company had moved to a new office two blocks away from the Sterling Building last year. I had sent him the new address. He’d never even read it. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ll get home on my own. It’s all one-way streets around there, it’ll be a nightmare for you to get over here.” He was silent for a moment, then hung up. When I walked through the door, Hugh was already sitting on the sofa. It was a rare sight. Usually, I was the one who got home first, the one who cooked dinner and waited for him. More often than not, the food would go cold, and he still wouldn’t be home. When he finally walked in, I would complain, and he would just look at me with cold eyes. “Do you think my whole world revolves around you? Can’t you just eat by yourself?” “But the food is cold…” “If it’s cold, throw it out. Are you really going to start a fight over something so small?” So I learned to stop saying anything. I’d pack his portion away in a warmer, eat my own dinner alone, and then sit in the living room and wait. Tonight, however, he actually got up as I walked in. He followed me as I took off my coat, explaining, “Sandra, I’ve just been so busy, my head’s a mess. I didn’t mean to go to the wrong place.” “It’s fine,” I said, shrugging off my jacket. He studied my face, then added, “And about yesterday… it was late, and the storm was terrible. Jenna lives so far away… and when we got there, her power was out, so I just helped her fix the breaker.” I nodded, my voice neutral. “Okay.” “Are you angry?” I looked up at him, genuinely confused. “No.” That seemed to be the confirmation he needed. His careful expression hardened into accusation. “Yes, you are. I explained everything, and you’re still acting like this. You didn’t even make breakfast, and now you’re giving me the cold shoulder!” It dawned on me then. The old me would have had a complete meltdown over the last two days. Scenes like this had played out countless times over our four-year marriage. And every single time, he would stand back and watch me, silent, as if I were some unhinged actress in a bad play. Looking back, I must have looked pathetic. No wonder he never wanted to come home. But right now, I truly felt no anger. I was just exhausted from working a full day while sick. “If that’s all, I’m going to take a bath.” He stepped closer. “I’ll join you.” “No, thanks. I have a cold. I don’t feel well.” I pulled my arm from his grasp and went straight into the bathroom. A moment later, I heard the front door slam shut. He was gone again. And so, another cold war began. Before, these silences would have sent me into a panic. I’d be a nervous wreck, constantly looking for an excuse to break the tension, like “accidentally” sending him a message and then quickly deleting it. He rarely responded. He never asked what the deleted message said. If I called, he wouldn’t answer. My work would suffer as I obsessed over how to fix things, counting the minutes until I could go home. But now? I felt a profound sense of relief. Being sick, all I wanted was a good night’s sleep, but Hugh’s late-night returns always woke me up. Now, he was sleeping in the guest room, and I could sleep through the night. I stopped cooking dinner for him. He wouldn’t eat it anyway. The project I was leading was entering its most critical phase. I started grabbing breakfast on the go and eating dinner at the office before staying a little later to work. It saved me so much time. I threw myself completely into my work, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. Ever since we got married, my entire world had revolved around Hugh. I’d text him constantly, asking what he was doing, telling him I missed him, that I loved him. He rarely replied, but I never stopped. I hardly ever worked late, always rushing home to cook. But he was always busy—either with work or with friends. I could count on one hand the number of times a month he was home for dinner. Now that he was no longer the center of my universe, my life felt lighter. My work improved dramatically. When the project finally wrapped up successfully, I let out a huge sigh of relief. I opened up my social media for the first time in weeks, only then remembering I had unfollowed Jenna. Curiosity got the better of me. Sure enough, while Hugh and I were in our “cold war,” he had been by her side. They went camping at the beach. She’d gone to a party with him and his closest friends. He looked so happy. The old me would have been on the phone immediately, screaming at him. He would offer a half-hearted explanation, then grow irritated with my “melodrama,” and the fight would end with him storming out of the house. But now, looking at these photos, so clearly meant to provoke me, I felt absolutely nothing. I even had the presence of mind to go through and like every single one. Because of the project’s success, the company was offering me a promotion. The new position was in B City. I had been hesitant, but now, my mind was made up. Leaving the office that evening, I was surprised to see Hugh waiting outside. “I had a meeting nearby,” he said by way of explanation. I opened the passenger door, and there was Jenna. Her smile was sickly sweet. “Sandra! Long time no see. I was just having dinner with Hugh, and he’s giving me a ride home. You don’t mind, do you?” I smiled back. “Not at all.” I closed the passenger door and opened the one behind it, sliding into the back seat. Hugh got in and looked back, confused. He hesitated, then explained, “Jenna gets carsick. It’s better for her in the front.” I just nodded. He glanced at me again, then turned back to the wheel, a frown creasing his forehead. He must have been baffled. I rarely rode in his car, but whenever I did, I was always in the passenger seat. I had once declared it “the wife seat.” He’d rolled his eyes, calling me dramatic. “It’s just a seat,” he’d said. “What’s the difference?” I just wanted to be next to him. That was the only difference. Jenna chattered away in the front, talking about people and projects at his company. I didn’t know any of them and couldn’t get a word in, so I just closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. I must have drifted off, because I was startled when Jenna turned around to ask me, “Sandra, how come you didn’t come to Dave’s birthday party the other night?” Dave’s birthday? I opened my eyes. No one had invited me. “I didn’t know he was having one,” I said softly. Jenna feigned surprise. “Really? But you know how close he and Hugh are.” I just smiled and said nothing. Dave and Hugh were like brothers. Last month, when Hugh got back from an international trip, he hadn’t come home. He’d gone straight from the airport to go stargazing with Jenna in the mountains. When I’d called Dave, frantic, he’d covered for his friend. He didn’t know I’d already seen Jenna’s post. That fight had ended with me in tears and Hugh checking into a hotel for three days. After Jenna spoke, Hugh glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his expression guilty. I ignored him and closed my eyes again. The takeout I ordered arrived at the same time we did. I changed my clothes and sat down to eat. Hugh came out of the bathroom and asked, “Where’s mine?” I looked up, surprised. “I thought you already ate.” His face froze for a second. He sat down across from me, looking like he wanted to say something. The old me would have immediately asked what was wrong. Now, I just wanted to enjoy my food in peace. Finally, he spoke. “About Dave’s birthday… we were still fighting, so I…” I cut him off. “It’s a small thing. It’s in the past. Let’s just drop it.” A flicker of shock crossed his face. He had said those exact words to me more than once. Most recently, at dinner with Dave, when I’d asked Dave why he’d lied to me. Dave had looked at Hugh, then back at me with a smirk. “Sandra, I was just trying to keep the peace, you know?” When I tried to press the issue, Hugh had snapped, “It was weeks ago. Are you ever going to let it go?” After dinner, Hugh showed no signs of leaving. I took the opportunity to pull the divorce papers my lawyer had drawn up from my bag. He glanced at the heading and let out a bitter, angry laugh. “What is this? Threatening divorce again?” He threw the papers on the floor at my feet. I picked them up and held them out to him again. “I’m serious.” “Do you get some kind of sick pleasure out of all this drama?” I didn’t say another word. Anything more would just lead to another screaming match. He slammed the door on his way out. I didn’t care where he went or what he did. I calmly placed the papers on his desk in the study and went back to browsing real estate listings for B City. Hugh didn’t come home that night. I was glad to have the place to myself. The next day, he was there to pick me up after work again. I didn’t refuse. It was a luxury I hadn’t been afforded in years; no point in being difficult about it now. I opened the back door and got in. A strange expression crossed Hugh’s face. “Sandra, why are you sitting… back there?” I looked at him, confused. “It’s just a seat. What’s the difference?” “Just… come sit up front.” I shrugged and moved to the passenger seat. Something hard was digging into my hip. I pulled it out. It was a tube of lipstick. Hugh immediately started stammering. “That must be Jenna’s. She’s so careless, always leaving things behind…” His voice trailed off as he saw the look on my face. I held it out to him. “Then make sure you give it back to her. That brand is expensive.” “I swear, I didn’t know it was there… There’s nothing going on between us…” I cut him off. “Hugh. It doesn’t matter.” “What?” “I said, it doesn’t matter. Whether there’s something going on with you and Jenna… I don’t really care anymore.” The color drained from his face. I turned to look out the window, ending the conversation. From that day on, Hugh started picking me up every day. He stopped going out with his friends. And every day, I would leave a fresh, signed copy of the divorce agreement on the coffee table in the living room. He acted like he didn’t see it, and I didn’t press him. It was inevitable. If I seemed too eager, he would just accuse me of playing games, of trying to manipulate him. One day, as soon as I got in the car, Hugh said, “We got Dave’s nephew into that school. He wants to take us to dinner to say thank you.” Dave’s nephew had been trying to get into a prestigious international kindergarten. I happened to know the director, so Dave had asked me for a favor. If he hadn’t mentioned it, I would have completely forgotten. At the restaurant, Dave handed me a glass of wine. “Sandra, you’re a lifesaver. My sister has been stressing about this for months.” I smiled and accepted the glass, though I didn’t drink. “It was no big deal.” Before our appetizers arrived, a familiar face appeared. “I thought I recognized your voices!” Jenna said, walking over to our table. “Hugh! Dave! Fancy seeing you here.” Then, as if she’d only just noticed me, her smile tightened. “Oh. Sandra’s here too.” She turned back to Hugh, her voice taking on a whiny, girlish tone. “My friend bailed on me. Can I join you guys? Please?” Hugh glanced at me, hesitating. I smiled brightly. “Of course. The more the merrier.” Dave shot me a surprised look. “Hugh, can you peel a crab for me?” Jenna asked, pouting. Then she looked at me. “I bet Hugh does this for you all the time, right, Sandra? Whenever we eat crab, he always says I’m too clumsy, so he just does it for me.” She smiled sweetly. Anyone watching would have thought they were the couple. I had asked Hugh to do that for me once, after seeing another woman’s boyfriend do it for her. He’d just scoffed. “You’re not a child. You have hands.” “But it’s what other husbands do,” I’d argued. “Am I your servant? Can’t you do it yourself?” The table next to us had looked over, and I’d shrunk in my seat, my face burning with shame. I never asked again. I had no idea he was doing it for Jenna. As she was about to say more, Hugh cut her off sharply. He turned to me, his voice low. “She doesn’t really know how… I just help her out sometimes…” I didn’t look up from my plate. “Oh,” I said, picking at my food. “Well, you should help her then.” My response clearly wasn’t the one he wanted. His face darkened. In the end, he didn’t peel a crab for anyone. “Hugh…” Jenna whined. “There’s plenty of other food,” he snapped. “Eat something else.” That weekend, I took the train to B City to look at apartments. I left early, while Hugh was still asleep. I was standing outside a potential building when he called. “Where are you?” I didn’t answer his question directly. “What’s up?” He seemed fixated on the answer. “I asked where you are.” I lied without thinking. “I’m at the office. Working overtime. Why?” His voice was tight, like he was gritting his teeth. “I’m standing right outside your office building. I just asked the guard. No one is working today.” I simply went silent. He didn’t hang up.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387009”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Three years after Adrian Shelton left me at the altar, I saw him again across a poker table in Monaco. He sat opposite me, his expression unreadable, his eyes drifting down to the meager pile of chips in front of me. “How much did you lose?” he asked, his voice smooth. “Put it on my tab.” I offered him a polite smile and slid my husband’s exclusive black card onto the felt. “No, thank you. My husband doesn’t like me spending other men’s money. He gets jealous.” The color drained from his face. He let out a soft sigh. “Seraphina, it’s been years. Are you still holding a grudge?” His tone was laced with a weary condescension. “That’s such a childish lie. Who’s going to believe you?” I just smiled, saying nothing. My husband, the King of Monaco’s casinos, kept me so thoroughly occupied at night that I barely had the energy to hold a grudge. … 1 Adrian clearly didn’t believe a word I said. He was about to retort when a glamorous woman slinked up to the table. “Adrian, darling, there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She slid into the chair beside him, her arm linking possessively with his. “Who’s this?” she asked, her eyes raking over me with undisguised hostility, as if I were a cheap trinket she’d found at a flea market. “You look familiar,” she mused. “Weren’t you that girl from the Lind family? Tsk, look how far you’ve fallen.” Adrian pulled his gaze from me, his voice dismissive. “An old friend. Seraphina Lind.” “An old friend?” the woman echoed, her hand flying to her mouth in mock surprise. “Oh—I remember now. You’re the one who got jilted at the wedding…” She feigned a slip of the tongue, her apology dripping with insincerity. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I just have no filter, you know? Not like you, Sera. So poised, even after your family went bankrupt, still pretending to be a lady of leisure. You won’t hold it against me, will you? After all,” she purred, “I’m the one who’s Mrs. Shelton now.” It was a blatant provocation. My expression remained cool. I had no interest in their little performance. I gathered my few remaining chips, ready to find another table. “Wait.” Adrian’s hand shot out, pressing down on mine, covering my chips. His eyes were cold. “Seraphina, what do you think you’re doing? Did I say you could leave?” I met his gaze evenly. “Mr. Shelton, I’m moving to another table. Let go.” The “lie” about the black card had clearly gotten under his skin. He let out a cold, humorless laugh. “What’s the matter? Your ‘husband’ didn’t give you enough to play with? Or is it that he doesn’t exist at all?” He leaned forward, his voice a low challenge. “Since your husband is so wealthy, why don’t we play a few hands?” The woman, whose name I now remembered was Isabella, chimed in, her voice sharp. “Yes, Sera. Adrian has been talking about you for years, saying how sorry he is.” She snuggled against him. “Just think of it as giving us a chance to make it up to you.” Her tone shifted, becoming oily and suggestive. “Or are you just a liar? Tell me, which gentleman’s club is your ‘husband’ the main attraction at?” I had no desire to get dragged into this. “I’m not interested.” Isabella deliberately raised her voice, drawing the attention of the surrounding tables. “Everyone, come and see! This woman is a sore loser, pretending to be some rich man’s wife!” Heads turned. Whispers started to ripple through the room. “Isn’t that Adrian Shelton? The CEO of Shelton Industries?” “And that must be his new flame, Isabella.” “Who’s the other woman? Daring to cross Mr. Shelton?” “Never seen her before. Probably some social climber.” “Look at what she’s wearing. How did she even get in here?” The murmurs pricked at my ears. Isabella, seeing she had an audience, grew bolder. “Are you looking down on my Adrian, Miss Lind? We’re offering you a way out, and you’re too proud to take it. Or is it that you stole that black card?” Adrian’s face was a thundercloud. He was convinced I was putting on a show, trying to spite him. He stood up, towering over me. “Seraphina, let’s make a bet.” “You win,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “and I’ll believe you. I’ll believe the card is real.” “You lose,” he continued, “and you’ll admit the card is fake. You’ll apologize.” He paused, his eyes glittering with a cruel light. “And you’ll admit that you’re still in love with me.” “Admit that for the last three years, you’ve been waiting for me to come back.” “Admit that you never got over me.” Every word was a poisoned dart, designed to humiliate me. Isabella fanned the flames. “Adrian, she’d never dare. She’s a fraud. Look at her clothes—do they even cost a hundred dollars?” Adrian waved her off impatiently, his eyes locked on me. “Do you dare? Or is your ‘husband’ just a figment of your imagination? If you don’t have the guts, then get on your knees and apologize, and I’ll pretend this never happened. My patience is wearing thin, Seraphina.” I watched their tag-team performance. They were so certain. So sure I was the same girl from three years ago, the girl they could manipulate and discard at will. A slow smile spread across my face. I nodded. “Alright,” I said. “You name the game. I’m just worried you’ll lose everything you have.” Adrian scoffed. “You? Against me?” 2 We moved to the VIP room. Adrian and Isabella were clearly regulars. The manager bowed and scraped as he ushered them in. “Mr. Shelton, Miss Vance. The usual?” Adrian waved a dismissive hand and gestured toward me. “Miss Lind here would like to play a few hands tonight.” The manager’s gaze fell on me, a flicker of contempt in his eyes. “Is this young lady a member of our casino? She doesn’t exactly look the part for the VIP section.” “Stop wasting my time,” Adrian snapped. “Put it on my account.” The manager immediately fell silent. Isabella draped herself over Adrian’s lap, a clear display of ownership. They were a team, united against me. “What shall we play, Sera?” she cooed. “You decide.” Before I could speak, Adrian “decided” for me. “Let’s play poker.” Isabella clapped her hands. “Oh, perfect! I remember you used to be terrified of poker, Sera. You always said the rules were too complicated.” She looked at Adrian, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Darling, aren’t you being a little mean?” Her words said one thing, but her eyes danced with malicious glee. Adrian knew I never touched the game. This was deliberate. He wanted to watch me squirm. “Do you dare, Seraphina?” “I have no objection,” I said, my voice flat. The dealer began to shuffle. Adrian and Isabella exchanged a triumphant look. They were sure I was finished. After I lost the first two hands, Isabella started her victory lap. “Adrian, darling, do you remember three years ago?” she murmured, tracing a finger over his chest. “You were so handsome that day, just walking out with me. Leaving her standing there all alone on the stage… tsk, tsk.” Her words were a needle, piercing through my carefully constructed walls. Three years ago. The wedding day. I was in my gown, the hall filled with guests. I thought I was the happiest woman in the world. Then Isabella burst in, clutching her stomach. “Adrian, I’m pregnant with your child!” she’d sobbed, falling to her knees. “You can’t marry her!” The room erupted. Adrian’s parents’ faces turned to stone. I looked at him, waiting for an explanation. Waiting for him to tell everyone it was a mistake. But after the initial shock, he let go of my hand. He took Isabella’s. And in front of everyone, he announced, “The wedding is off. Isabella is carrying my child. I have to do right by her.” I became the laughingstock of the city. Standing alone on the altar, watching them walk away together. The officiant awkwardly announced the ceremony was over. The guests stared at me with a mixture of pity, scorn, and contempt. “The Linds have been thoroughly disgraced.” “I heard he had someone on the side. Seraphina acted like he was a prize.” “Well, look at her now. The groom ran off.” Their stares were a physical weight, threatening to crush me. My father, watching from the front row, collapsed on the spot. “Call.” A cold voice snapped me back to the present. I pushed a stack of chips forward, my face a mask. Adrian frowned. “You’ve changed. You used to cry if you lost this much. Now you’ve lost almost everything, and you’re so calm.” Isabella giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Don’t scare her, darling. She’s not the Lind heiress anymore. She’s poor. She can’t afford to lose.” She pulled a wad of cash from her purse and tossed it on the table in front of me. The bills landed with a soft thud. “Take it. A little something from me. Don’t say we bullied you. Go on, is it not enough? Adrian said he’d make sure you had a good time tonight.” 3 Her tone was one of pitying disdain. “Or is it that your ‘husband’s’ black card has been declined? Do you need me to lend you some money? The interest rate is very low.” My pile of chips dwindled. Adrian and Isabella worked in perfect sync. She’d check her cards, and he’d raise the bet. The dealer’s technique was also suspect; he always seemed to give me a useless card at the most critical moments. Isabella kept glancing at the dealer. His fingers tapped a silent rhythm beneath the table. They were using signals, cheating. They thought I wouldn’t notice. Too bad for them. The first thing my husband taught me in these past three years was how to spot every single cheat in a casino. But I didn’t call them out. I was waiting. Isabella, drunk on her success, began to show off the massive diamond on her finger. “Isn’t it beautiful, Sera? Adrian gave it to me last month. Five carats.” She held her hand out, the ring so close it almost touched my face. “He said I’m the love of his life. He said marrying you was just a business arrangement. He said you could never compare to even a single one of my fingers.” Adrian, watching my “distress,” feigned concern. “Seraphina, just admit it. You don’t have a husband. Why keep up the act? If you concede, I’ll cover all your losses tonight.” He even reached out, as if to touch my face. “Sera, be good. I know you still hate me. But this act will only make me lose more respect for you. Your father is dead, the Lind fortune is gone. What are you trying to prove?” He put on a show of deep sincerity, but there wasn’t a shred of guilt in his eyes. It was as if my father’s death, my family’s ruin, had nothing to do with him. “It was my fault back then, but I was forced into it,” he sighed. “You know what my parents are like. I couldn’t fight them. If you want to blame someone, blame your father for not being strong enough to save his own company. Just come back to me, and I can give you a good life again.” His hypocrisy was nauseating. I let out a cold laugh. “I could never compare to you, Mr. Shelton. Abandoning your fiancée and then swallowing her family’s last hope of survival.” Adrian’s face changed instantly. Isabella went pale. It was the one part of his past he never wanted brought to light. After the wedding fiasco, my family’s company had its credit lines cut overnight. My father, his hair turning white, went with me to beg the Sheltons for help. After all, our families had been allies for generations. We had a marriage contract. My father knelt outside their gate for a day and a night. But Adrian’s parents not only refused to help, citing my “shameful” behavior, they actively worked against us, pulling their own investments and encouraging others to do the same. “The Linds deserved to go bankrupt for raising such a shameless daughter!” “Adrian was wise to call off the wedding!” Overnight, we lost everything. My father couldn’t take the blow. He jumped from the roof of his office building. The ground was stained red with his blood. And Adrian, the man I had loved for ten years, was nowhere to be seen. He was in Europe with Isabella, waiting for their child to be born. They had absorbed my family’s assets. He had built his new life on the bones of my family. Back in the present, I pushed my last few chips into the center of the table. “My only regret is that I was blind.” “All in.” “My father’s regret was saving a snake.” “Adrian Shelton, does the money you bought with my father’s life help you sleep at night?” 4 The barb hit its mark. Adrian’s eyes turned venomous. The mask of civility was gone, his face a mask of rage. He signaled to the dealer. “Deal!” he snarled. “I want to see what you have left to fight me with! I’m going to make you crawl out of here tonight!” As expected, I lost the final hand. Adrian revealed his pocket aces. The dealer swept away my last chips. I had nothing left. Isabella shot to her feet, her voice shrill with triumph. “You lost! Seraphina, you lost! Admit you were lying! Apologize to us! Admit that black card is fake! Admit you don’t have a husband!” She cackled, pointing a finger at me. “Apologize! On your knees! You bitch, you thought you could compete with me for Adrian? You’re not worthy!” Adrian also stood, his superior air restored. He adjusted his cuffs and said, his voice smooth as silk, “As I said, I’ll cover your losses. But you have to admit you have no husband, and that card is a fake.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. “And that you still love me. Stop pretending, Seraphina. I know how hard these past three years have been for you. Come back to me. I’ll take care of you. Isabella is just a toy. You’re the one I want.” His eyes were full of a possessive, arrogant confidence. “Tell me,” he murmured, “have you been selling your body to survive?” The onlookers whispered among themselves. “So she was faking it.” “No money and she dares to come to the VIP room. Shameless.” “I thought she’d landed some big fish, but she’s just Shelton’s ex.” “Look, she’s lost everything.” “Hurry up!” Isabella shrieked. “Or we’re calling security! Throw this liar out! Women like her should be thrown out on the street! Security! Where the hell is security!” Seeing my lack of reaction, she lunged, her hands reaching for my hair. “You shameless bitch, you’re still smiling? I’ll tear that smile off your face!” Adrian didn’t move to stop her. He watched, a look of cruel amusement on his face, clearly enjoying the spectacle of my humiliation. Under their expectant gazes, I slowly stood up. I looked at them, and a real smile touched my lips. The smile seemed to unnerve them. They thought I’d finally snapped. “What are you smiling at?” Isabella spat. “Have you gone mad? Lost your mind from losing?” I was just waiting. Biding my time. My husband was due for his nightly inspection of the casino floor. And he hated it when people were late. Bang! The doors to the VIP room were thrown open. The casino manager stood there, bowing, his forehead beaded with sweat. “Sir…” A cold, magnetic voice came from behind him. “Get out of the way.” The manager scrambled aside as if he’d been electrocuted. A tall figure stepped into the room, blocking the light. His presence was a physical force, instantly silencing the room. The color drained from Adrian and Isabella’s faces. “Who… who are you?” Adrian stammered. The man didn’t even look at him. He took my cold hand in his, pulling me behind him. His palm was warm and steady. His icy gaze swept over Adrian and Isabella. “Who is bullying my wife?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387008”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I have a brother and a sister. For eighteen years, my parents had the master bedroom, my siblings shared the second room, and I slept on the balcony. So when my parents finally decided to upgrade to a four-bedroom house, I cried tears of pure joy. After the housewarming party, we chose our rooms. My parents took the master suite. My brother, Ross, picked the room next to theirs. My sister, Mia, smiling, moved into the northern bedroom. Excited, I headed toward the last room—but Mia stopped me. “Alex, wrong way. Your room’s over there.” She pointed to the balcony, where my familiar wooden bed waited. It hit me then: the problem was never the house size, but my place in their hearts. As I stood frozen, the others gathered in the last room—now a game room. Mia squealed with delight. Ross admired his sneaker shelf. My mom showed my dad his new ergonomic chair. “I finally don’t have to work at the dining table,” he said, touched. “Thanks, Mom! We love you!” they chorused. I watched them—a perfect, happy family—through the doorway. Tears streamed down my face. Even after ten years on the balcony, in this new house, there was still no room for me. An hour later, the novelty of their new shared space wore off, and they trickled out of the room. They finally noticed me, still standing in the same spot, my eyes red and swollen from crying. Mia, oblivious as ever, came over and poked my arm. “What’s wrong, Alex? Did the new house break your brain or something?” Ross let out a short laugh, but it died in his throat when he met my gaze. He walked over, trying to sound magnanimous. “Look, if you really don’t want the balcony, I guess we could switch.” Before I could even speak, my parents shot him down in unison. “Absolutely not! You’re studying for your grad school exams. You need proper rest.” A bitter wave washed over me. So they knew. They knew sleeping on the balcony meant you couldn’t rest properly. “But I have my college entrance exams coming up,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I thought that might spark a flicker of guilt, but their expressions remained unchanged. “You’ve done it for ten years, you’re used to it,” my mother said. “Your brother isn’t.” My father’s stern gaze was laced with reprimand. “He’s a light sleeper, Alex. You know that!” My mother chimed in, her tone scolding. “Honestly, this boy. Always has to compare everything. You’re being so immature!” The tears I’d just managed to stop started flowing again, hot and unstoppable. Immature? How much more mature could I possibly be? There were three kids, and I wasn’t even the oldest, yet I was the only one who ever did chores. Even during my middle school finals, studying until midnight, I still had to find time to wash the dinner dishes, do the laundry, and mop the floors. With Ross’s offer vetoed, all eyes turned to Mia. She shrieked instantly. “You even think about making me sleep on the balcony, and I’ll make sure none of you get a wink of sleep, ever!” My mother stroked her hair with a look of helpless adoration. “Don’t you worry, my little princess. We’d make anyone sleep out there before you.” “That’s more like it,” Mia said, smugly. “I’ll let you off the hook for now. No need to call Grandma and Grandpa to complain.” I stood my ground, refusing to move my things to the balcony. The silence in the hallway was thick with tension. The urge to just turn around and walk out, to leave it all behind, pulsed through me, but I forced it down. Eight years of living as a guest in my aunt’s house had given me a desperate, bottomless craving for a real home. Even if this family didn’t cherish me the way I’d imagined, at least it was my home. At least I wasn’t a beggar living under someone else’s roof. Swallowing my hurt and resentment, I tried one last time, my voice trembling. “But what about the last room? Can’t I just stay there for a little while…?” “No!” This time, all four of them said it at once. The last, fragile flicker of hope for their affection died in my chest. With a furious roar, I swept my arm across the dining table, sending the carefully constructed pyramid of soda cans crashing to the floor. “If that’s how it is,” I choked out, my eyes burning, “then there’s no reason for me to be in this house at all.” I grabbed my worn-out duffel bag and stormed out without a backward glance. Just as I reached the elevator, a hand clamped down on the back of my collar. “Stop right there! Where do you think you’re going?!” my father yelled, his face purple with rage. “None of your business!” I shot back, my voice cold. It was the first time in my life I had ever spoken back to him, the first time I had ever defied him so openly. He froze for a second, stunned. Then, the sound of the slap was deafening. I stumbled backward, the force of it sending me crashing to the floor. The contents of my duffel bag spilled out around me. “Over a single room? You’d abandon your own parents over a room? Is it really worth it?!” he roared. I looked up at his furious face and screamed back, my voice even louder than his. “Yes! It is!” In the past, no matter how wronged I felt, I would have only offered a quiet, timid defense. I was weighed down by the shame of being the outsider, the latecomer to the family. I thought being obedient and invisible would earn their acceptance. But now I saw it clearly. All it ever got me was more pain. There was no point in trying to fit into a space where I would never belong. My mother rushed out after him. “What is wrong with this child? Do you only get happy when you’re making your parents miserable?” Her anger escalated until she was pointing a shaking finger at me. “Fine! You want a room so badly? You can have the master bedroom! Your father and I will sleep on the balcony! Are you happy now?!” She spun around as if to start packing, but Ross and Mia grabbed her arms. “Mom, you and Dad are the elders. We can’t have you sleeping on the balcony,” Ross said, then shot a resentful look at me. “Seriously, this was supposed to be a happy day, and it’s completely ruined by one selfish person.” Mia’s glare was pure poison. “Just keep it up, Alex. Maybe Mom and Dad will send you away again!” A violent tremor shot through my entire body. The hellish memories of my life at my aunt’s house before I was eight flooded back, replaying in horrifying detail. When I was four, I accidentally broke my cousin’s doll. My uncle’s face darkened, and he shoved me out the door. I spent the entire night curled up in the corner of the stairwell, sobbing until the sun came up. When I was eight, my cousin was playing with matches and burned half the apartment down, but she blamed it on me. My aunt and uncle tied me up and beat me with a leather belt until I was half-dead. That was the year my parents finally took me back. I thought the nightmare was over. I never imagined I would still be the one who didn’t belong. I couldn’t take it anymore. “You don’t have to send me! I’m leaving myself!” I tore myself from my father’s grasp, my face streaked with tears, and slammed the down button for the elevator. I ran out of the building, out of the complex, just ran. It was ten o’clock at night. All I had was a cheap phone that could only make calls. Not a single change of clothes. I stared at the thousands of warm, glowing windows in the distance, then collapsed onto the curb, sobbing uncontrollably, letting out all the years of bottled-up misery. “Alex? Is that you?” A familiar voice cut through my grief. I looked up. It was my classmate, Leo. Standing beside him were his parents, a kind-faced middle-aged couple. I’d been so excited about the new house that I’d told practically everyone I knew, so of course, he knew. “I thought you guys were moving in today,” he started, confused. “What are you doing out here so late…?” His mother cut him off. “Leo, didn’t you say you had some tough homework problems you needed Alex’s help with? This is perfect. Why don’t you invite him over?” Then she turned to me, her voice gentle. “Alex, our place is just around the corner. Would you mind coming over to help Leo out for a bit?” Leo, who knew bits and pieces about my family situation, caught on immediately. “Please, Alex? You’ve gotta help me,” he begged. Thinking of my cold family and my empty pockets, I numbly accepted their kindness and went home with them. Later that night, Mrs. Dallas sent a text to my parents for me, explaining that I’d be staying with them for the month leading up to the final exams. I overheard her on the phone with my mother. I heard my mother’s shrill voice rattling on about how immature and shameless I was, how I shouldn’t be imposing on another family just to “tutor.” She never once mentioned the balcony. She never once asked me to come home. For the next month, I became part of the Dallas family. Leo and I ate together, slept in his room, and went to school together. We studied late into the night, quizzing each other. I silently etched their kindness into my heart and swore I would ace my exams. I had to build a future for myself, a bright one that didn’t depend on anyone else’s approval. The month flew by, and the exams were over. In all that time, my parents had made a few half-hearted calls to Mrs. Dallas, offering to transfer money for my expenses, which she refused. When she did, they never tried to send it to me directly. They never called me once. But I saw them. Whenever I used my phone to look up study materials, their social media posts would pop up. Ross posted: Mom’s been making me a different kind of gourmet soup every day to keep my strength up for GRE prep. Best mom in the world. Mia posted: Dad promised me the new-gen console no matter what my final grades are! Love my family! Best parents ever! My parents were the first to like and comment: Our little family of four, always together. I also saw on my mother’s page that she had dismantled the wooden bed on the balcony and replaced it with two tiers of flower shelves. Her caption was heartfelt: Finally cleared out that eyesore. Now it’s just birdsong, fragrant flowers, and my two wonderful children. My life is finally perfect. So that was it. The days without me were their happiest. I finally understood that from the moment I was born, I was destined to be the extra piece that never fit. A sharp pain lanced through my chest, but it vanished as quickly as it came. The exam results were out. “Alex, did you see it? You’re number one! You’re the top scorer in the entire state!” Leo yelled, grabbing me in a hug and spinning me around. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I said, grinning. “Eighth in the city.” Leo’s parents walked over, smiling warmly. “It’s all thanks to you tutoring him this past month. With his old grades, he would’ve been lucky to get into any state college.” Leo stuck his tongue out sheepishly, then turned to me with genuine gratitude. “Seriously, man. Thanks.” “By the way,” Mr. Dallas said, “we’re planning Leo’s graduation party at The Grand Regency Hotel. If you don’t mind, we’d love for you to celebrate with us, as our guest of honor.” I immediately tried to refuse. I’d already imposed on them for a month; I couldn’t possibly crash their party. But Leo got angry. “You said yesterday you thought of me as a brother, and now you won’t even celebrate with me? Fine! I’m not talking to you anymore!” He pouted, turning his back on me. I was cornered. I had to give in. “Okay, okay, Leo, don’t be mad. I’ll be there.” “You know,” I added wistfully, “I’ve never had a party like that.” Leo’s face was a mask of disbelief. “What are you talking about? You were first in the city in middle school…” He trailed off, suddenly realizing. The three of them looked at me for a long moment. Their eyes held no surprise, no pity. Only a deep, aching sympathy that warmed me to my core. The emotions I had suppressed for so long surged up again. Strangers could see my pain, could care for me, could feel for me. But my own flesh and blood saw me as a burden, something to be ignored and mistreated. It was clear then. Blood isn’t what makes a family. I knew, with absolute certainty, that some people weren’t worth holding on to. On the day of the party, wearing a new shirt and slacks Mrs. Dallas had bought me, I went with them to The Grand Regency. During a trip to the restroom, I took a wrong turn and ended up in a different ballroom. I was about to leave when four familiar figures caught my eye, and I froze. There, on the main stage in the center of the room, were my father, my mother, Ross, and Mia, huddled together, beaming. “This son of mine has been brilliant since he was a boy,” my father announced, slinging an arm around Ross’s shoulders and holding up his grad school acceptance letter for all to see. “He’s bringing honor to the Clarke name!” “And our Mia is incredibly talented too!” my mother added. “Even if her grades weren’t the best, she’s a genius at dance. Just yesterday, she won a national junior dance award!” She finished by planting a proud kiss on Mia’s forehead. “You will always be your mother’s greatest pride, sweetie.” The room erupted in applause. Guests swarmed them, congratulating my parents on their good fortune, praising Ross and Mia for being so accomplished. The atmosphere was electric; everyone was radiant with joy. And then there was me, a lonely shadow in the doorway, completely out of place. I panicked, desperate to escape, but just as I turned to leave, a voice called out. “Alex? What are you doing here?” It was Ross. He was standing right in front of me, and behind him were Mia, and my parents. It had been over a month, and the look in their eyes wasn’t happiness or surprise. It was pure, undiluted disgust. As if I wasn’t their son, but the filthiest, most repulsive thing in the world.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387007”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel