My adoptive mother disappeared in the national forest. My husband, a park ranger, took only a few seconds to start searching in the completely opposite direction. When I realized his mistake, I stumbled through the brush, rushing to the front of the search party to point them the right way. But he just shoved me aside. “Are you the ranger, or am I? My gut is never wrong!” It wasn’t until he returned from that wrong path, carrying another woman on his back, that I understood. As his old flame, Mina, threw herself into his arms, sobbing with relief, the truth hit me. He deliberately chose the wrong direction just to save her mother. My mother was found a day later, not far from the correct trail. Her leg had been shattered by a bear trap. She had bled to death. Seeing her cold, lifeless body on the hospital gurney, my vision turned red. I lunged at my husband, screaming, tearing at him, demanding to know why he hadn’t saved her. Mina, seeing her hero under attack, snatched a scalpel from a nearby tray and plunged it through my carotid artery. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment my husband chose the wrong path. 1 “The tracks disappear here! This way, men! Follow me!” The familiar words echoed in my head, jolting me back to consciousness. My eyes snapped open to see Alex waving his arm, about to lead the search party down the wrong trail. It was happening all over again. In my last life, Alex had insisted my mother was lost on the other side of the mountain. I had screamed myself hoarse, telling them it was the wrong way. I had scrambled to the front of the line, trying to get him to just look again at the signs. He had simply pushed me away. “Are you the park ranger, or am I, Lily? I know these woods like the back of my hand. My instincts are never wrong!” he’d yelled. “Mom is missing, and you’re just making a scene! We’re losing precious time, and if anything happens to her, that’s on you! Besides, she’s my mother too. You think I wouldn’t try to save her?” Oh, you would. You absolutely would choose not to. I had trusted his judgment completely, letting him lead everyone down that fateful fork in the trail. And he did find someone. Just not my mother. The woman he carried on his shoulders was the mother of his first love, Mina. Meanwhile, my own mother was just off the main trail, her legs crushed in a steel trap, waiting alone for a rescue that came too late. A local found her a day later, but she had already bled out. This time, I would not let my mother die again. Done trying to reason with Alex, I spun around and ran back to the command post to find the Chief Ranger. “The other path at the fork! That was my mother’s last known route!” Alex saw me talking to the Captain and stormed back, grabbing my arm. “Sorry, Captain. My wife doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” He tightened his grip. “I already checked that other trail. It’s well-traveled, a safe route. There’s no way anyone could get lost there.” He pulled me aside, his voice a low hiss. “Don’t cause any more trouble! Leave this to the professionals. Just wait here quietly!” I ignored him, wrenching my arm free and turning back to the Captain. Alex’s patience snapped. He slapped me across the face, the force sending me stumbling to the ground. “Lily! I told you to stop this nonsense!” he roared. “How could anyone go missing on a path people use every day?” The slap left my ears ringing, but I didn’t care. I crawled on my hands and knees to the Captain’s feet. “Please,” I begged, “please, save my mother!” Alex moved to drag me away, but the Captain held up a hand, stopping him. “Hold on,” the Captain said, his eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me you unilaterally dismissed the possibility of her being on the other trail, Ranger?” Alex froze, a flicker of panic in his eyes. A ranger knows the forest, but no one can be 100% certain where a missing person might be. Standard procedure was to dispatch teams to every possible route from a fork. By insisting on taking the entire team down one path, Alex had blatantly violated protocol. He scrambled for an excuse. “No, it’s not like that. The other path leads to a much more remote area. The chances of her being lost there without being found are much higher…” His voice trailed off, his confidence evaporating under the Captain’s cold stare. The Captain shot him a look of utter disdain before giving the order. “Split into two teams. Find her, now.” The Captain had intended for Alex to lead the team searching for our mother, but Alex deliberately broke away from his assigned group and sprinted toward the other trail. Watching his eager silhouette disappear down the wrong path, my last ounce of hope for him withered and died. 2 About ten minutes later, the Captain’s voice crackled over the radio. “We’ve got her! Her leg is caught in a bear trap, it’s shattered. Is the ambulance here yet?” “Negative!” someone replied. Panic seized me. I snatched the radio from the Captain’s belt. “I can provide first aid! I’m a doctor! What’s the location? I’m coming now!” I ran, my feet flying over the uneven ground, a single prayer chanting in my mind. Don’t die, Mom. Please, just hold on. I’m almost there. You have to hold on! When I finally reached her, she had already lost too much blood and slipped into unconsciousness. She was lying on a stretcher, cold and pale, just like the last time I saw her. A sob escaped my lips, and I collapsed over her body, weeping. The Captain pulled me back. “Quick! Back to the command post! We have oxygen tanks there!” Right. She needed oxygen, a blood transfusion. She wasn’t dead yet. I wiped my tears, nodded, and scrambled to my feet, following the team back. But when we arrived, the command post was filled with cheers. Alex stood there, covered in mud, with a woman on his back. I recognized her instantly: Mina’s mother. Unlike last time, with the search party split, her rescue had been rougher. There were several bloody gashes on her thigh, and she too was unconscious. I could only scoff. What a performance. A few scratches and she faints? I tried to ignore it, but Alex believed her act. He had commandeered the entire medical kit for her. What about my mother? “Wait!” I yelled, running over. “Give me one of those oxygen tanks!” I tried to wrestle one away from him. Alex’s face was a mask of grim determination. He shoved me back with his body, sending me sprawling to the ground. “Mina’s mother needs oxygen! A life is on the line, Lily! When are you going to stop this selfish act?” He completely ignored my mother, bleeding and broken nearby, to lavish attention and resources on a woman with a few superficial wounds. Was he really so blind he couldn’t see who was in mortal danger? With no other choice, I grabbed a sturdy branch from the ground, tore a strip from my white sundress, and began to fashion a crude splint to stabilize my mother’s fractured leg. 3 Even unconscious, my mother’s muscles trembled in agony. It was a small mercy she was out; the pain of setting a shattered bone like this would have made her pass out all over again. But she still needed oxygen. I gently pried open her mouth, clearing the dirt and blood from her airway. Then, kneeling beside her, I laced my fingers together and began chest compressions. Thank God we found her in time. We were still within the fifteen-minute golden window for resuscitation. After two long minutes of pumping, my arms aching, my mother finally stirred. “Lily? Where’s… Alex?” Seeing her eyes flutter open, I burst into tears of joy. She tried to lift her hand to wipe them away. “My child… why are you crying… I’m all right now…” “I’m not crying, Mom,” I choked out. “I’m just so happy!” Suddenly, a triumphant shout came from Alex. “That’s wonderful! You’re awake! I didn’t let Mina down!” I turned to see him helping Mina’s mother, who was now breathing from an oxygen mask. He was animatedly telling her how he’d defied everyone to come and save her. A chill spread through my heart. The woman who had raised us from childhood was still clinging to life, and he had the nerve to brag to another woman’s mother about how he had fulfilled his “promise.” My mother’s flicker of consciousness faded, and her eyes rolled back as she passed out again. “Mom!” I screamed, scrambling over to the medical station. “The oxygen tank… where’s the oxygen?!” As I frantically searched, Alex finally decided to pay me some attention. He grabbed my arm, yanking me back. “What do you think you’re doing?!” I spun around and slapped him, hard. “I’m asking you where the FUCK the oxygen is!” Everyone froze, stunned into silence. Just then, a hand tangled itself in my hair, yanking my head back so hard I nearly fell. 4 Mina stood over me, her eyes filled with tears as she looked at her mother’s minor injuries. “Alex, what happened? Why is my mom hurt? I told you exactly where her signal was lost!” Alex just glanced silently in my direction, and Mina immediately understood. “It was you!” she shrieked, her voice venomous. “It was you, wasn’t it?! You’re the reason my mom got hurt!” She lunged, trying to claw at me. Her sharp nails dug into my scalp as she pulled my hair. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? My mother has hypoglycemia! If anything happens to her, I’ll kill you!” I wasn’t about to take it. I twisted my body, grabbing her wrist and applying pressure to the joint until her grip loosened. With a heave, I threw her to the muddy ground. “Your mom has a few scratches and low blood sugar? My mother has a compound fracture and is bleeding to death!” I spat. “What, is your mother’s life more valuable than mine? Alex dragged the entire medical team over here just to treat a few goddamn cuts on her leg. You really think she’s in danger?” My voice dropped to a low growl. “I’m telling you right now, if anything happens to my mother, you will pay.” Seeing Mina kneeling in the dirt, Alex’s heart clearly broke. He shoved me back forcefully. “Lily! You’re completely out of control! Now you’re physically attacking people?” He bent down to help Mina to her feet. I watched them, my voice cold as ice as I asked the question that had haunted me for years. “Alex, whose husband are you, anyway?” Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Mina let out a piercing cry. “Just because he’s your husband, he’s supposed to bend the rules and save your mother first? Is that it? I gave Alex her exact coordinates! Of course he had to save my mom first! Was he supposed to go searching for someone when he didn’t even know where she was or if she was even alive?” Her shriek drew everyone’s attention. So, whoever speaks first is right? I was about to argue back when Alex pulled me away, his voice a low warning. “You’ve already made one mistake today. Just admit you were wrong and stop causing more trouble!” “Alex?!” He actually thought this was my fault? It was because he misled the rescue team to save Mina’s mother that my own mother missed her window for survival in my past life. If I hadn’t insisted on searching the other trail this time, she would have died alone in the woods, just like before. And now he was blaming me. “Do you even have a conscience?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386334”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 At my firefighter brother’s funeral, an influencer my fiancée invited shoved a mic in my face. “You adopted ten orphans,” he accused, “just to steal their benefits and buy houses?” He then turned to my fallen comrade’s son. “He’s the one who killed your dad! He sells kids abroad for their organs!” Before I could deny it, my fiancée Ava grabbed the mic. Claiming to be a truth-seeking journalist, she played a doctored audio from the fire scene. It made it sound like I had sent my team to their deaths intentionally. The crowd erupted. As families rushed me, I shielded the child in my arms but was pushed off the stage, breaking my neck. A month later, an explosion at the same chemical plant blew a surviving body camera into view of a news crew, finally exposing the buried truth. … “Ms. Shen, we found a micro-recorder!” a young intern shouted, handing the device to Ava. Her brow furrowed. As she read the badge number engraved on the side, she flinched. Behind her, the influencer, Ryan, gasped dramatically. “Isn’t that Captain Luke’s number? Could this be… the evidence he tried to destroy?” The live feed went dead silent. The viewer count on the stream skyrocketed. “Investigate him now! That scumbag Luke has to be dirty!” “There’s the missing proof! Get the police on this!” “I always said he had a villain’s face! Knew he was no good!” Even the intern spat on the ground in disgust. “Luke is a disgrace to the uniform.” Someone tugged his sleeve. “Dude, shut up,” they whispered. “He’s Ms. Shen’s fiancé, remember?” “They were together for ten years, about to get married. Goes to show, you never really know someone.” From my hospital bed, paralyzed from the neck down, I stared at the television, a shattered protest gurgling in my throat. No… not me. I did nothing wrong. Watching Ava’s false-sincere expression, a black wave of hatred threatened to swallow me whole. I wanted to scream, but the fractured vertebrae had not only stolen my mobility, they had shredded my vocal cords. All of this was a gift from the woman I trusted most in the world. Ava’s eyes welled with tears as she bowed deeply to the camera. “I’m calling the police immediately,” she pledged. “Rest assured, everyone, I will get justice for all the victims. On behalf of Luke, I once again offer my deepest apologies to their families.” The livestream’s comment section flooded with sympathy for the woman so cruelly deceived by her own fiancé. “That monster hid his true face for a decade! Poor Ava!” “It should be Luke on his knees begging for forgiveness!” “The thought of him in that uniform makes me sick! He dishonored it!” Ryan wrapped a protective arm around Ava, tenderly wiping a tear from her eye. “Ava, this isn’t your fault. You’re a hero to this city for being brave enough to expose your own.” He looked at her with adoration. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here with you, always.” They clasped hands, looking for all the world like a pair of star-crossed lovers who had weathered a terrible storm. Even the reporters on site were moved. “Ms. Shen, Ryan is the man you truly deserve!” one of them called out. The chat was already spammed with their ship name, #Ryva. Praise for Ryan poured in. “Thank god for this streamer exposing the truth! Who knows how many more people that monster would have killed!” My hands clenched the bedsheets so tightly that my nails broke the skin. Just last month, I had proposed to Ava. She had thrown herself into my arms, laughing, and promised me forever. Now, the decorated firefighting hero was a public pariah, and she was holding the hand of the man who had orchestrated my downfall. I squeezed my eyes shut. A commotion erupted at my door. Ryan, his livestreaming crew, and a mob of angry citizens stormed into my room. The glare of a camera light blinded me, hot and accusatory, like an interrogation lamp. “Captain Luke,” Ryan began, his voice dripping with venom, “I hear your parents were firefighters too. Do they know they raised a worthless piece of filth?” My breath caught in my chest. His tone grew even more vicious. “Or is it because of their legacy as fallen heroes that you felt you could get away with anything?” I trembled with a rage I couldn’t express. My parents had died ten years ago in the city’s worst industrial fire, their bodies incinerated, their bones melted into the blaze. Ryan then dragged my fallen comrade’s son forward. “Kid, tell the nice people. Did he force your mommy to sign papers so you’d never see her again?” The boy, terrified by the crowd and the lights, burst into tears. His mother clutched him, her sobs wracking her body. “Captain Luke told me a single mother couldn’t raise a child properly! He said if I just signed the agreement, I wouldn’t have to worry about my son anymore! I had just lost my husband… he tricked me into nearly losing my son too!” She threw a piece of paper onto my bed. Ryan snatched it and held it up for the camera. “See? Here’s the proof! The contract for selling this child!” The livestream chat exploded. “That animal! He deserves to rot!” “The kid is so small! How could he do that? Someone beat the hell out of that bastard!” The enraged mob surged forward. They dragged me from the bed, tearing open my healing wounds. Someone grabbed the scalding hot water from my bedside table and poured it over my hands. The pain was so intense my skin seemed to shrink from my bones, and an involuntary scream tore from my throat. The little boy tried to run to my side, to protect me, but his mother held him back. A sharp pain, worse than the burns, pierced my heart. It was she who had knelt and begged me to take her son, saying she was too young to be tied down by a child. I clamped my jaw shut, refusing to reveal that truth in front of the boy. Just then, Ava pushed her way into the room. I noticed for the first time that the engagement ring was gone from her finger. Of course it was. How else could this mob have gotten past hospital security without her help? “Luke,” she said, her voice as cold as a morgue slab, “God is watching. The body camera has been sent to the police. You can’t escape this.” I stared at her, my eyes burning. “What did Ryan offer you, Ava? What was worth doing this to me?” I remembered her in high school, storming the principal’s office to defend a bullied roommate, her voice ringing with conviction. “I, Ava Shen, will always stand for the truth! You want to twist the facts? Not on my watch!” I had been captivated. I learned her dream was to be a journalist. I followed her, enrolling in the police academy next to her university. I fought fires, and she reported the truth. She was a born idealist, and I was prepared to spend my life protecting that idealism. I never imagined I would be the first piece of “truth” she threw away. Her face hardened. “Don’t be ridiculous! Ryan was trying to promote a hero. It was you who was exposed by his investigation! Did you want him to lie for you? He has integrity, unlike you. The only thing left for you to do is confess.” “Confess? He claims I framed my teammate. Where’s his proof?” I fumbled for the nurse’s call button, trying to get security to clear the room. Ryan blocked the door. “Proof? The children you ‘adopted’ are all overseas right now. That’s the proof!” My eyes shot to Ava. She knew. She knew I had used my own money to send them to a summer science program abroad. But her gaze never met mine. A bitter sting filled my nose. My heart, for Ava, turned to ice. Ryan scoffed. “Captain Luke, you’re public enemy number one. I have a duty to let everyone witness your true colors before the police get here.” A dry, rasping laugh escaped my lips. “Good. I’d like to file a report myself. For the public assault of a city official. Let’s see what the police have to say about that.” The crowd went quiet. “…He’s right, he’s still a Fire Captain.” “So what! He deserves it!” “We didn’t cause these injuries! He was like this when we got here!” I stared at their lying faces, thinking of all the times I’d stared death in the face to save people just like them, and my heart grew colder. Ryan suddenly smiled, a cruel, knowing look in his eyes. “No need to pull rank, Captain. You only have your position because of your parents, don’t you?” He lowered his voice, but it was still perfectly clear for the livestream. “But your parents weren’t heroes! They were the ones who caused the massive explosion ten years ago! They didn’t die! They took the money and fled the country to live in luxury!” He leaned in closer. “Your whole family is a criminal enterprise. They’re your connection to the wealthy buyers, aren’t they?!” A roar filled my ears. The blood in my veins turned to ice. “You’re lying—” With a surge of adrenaline-fueled strength, I kicked out, sending him flying across the room. The next second, Ava slapped me so hard my head slammed against the steel bed frame. Stars exploded behind my eyes, and blood streamed down my face. “How dare you lay a hand on him!” she screamed, cradling Ryan in her arms. Ryan clutched his stomach, his voice a pathetic whimper. “Ava, it’s true. An old firefighter told me everything. Captain Luke killed his teammate, he sells children’s organs… he learned it all from his parents. The whole family is rotten to the core.” The rage was so intense my vision started to black out. I remembered my parents’ backs as they ran into that inferno without a moment’s hesitation, and it felt like a piece of my own flesh was being torn away. “Slander…” I choked out. The livestream comments went insane: “A whole family of criminals!” “The apple doesn’t fall far from the poisonous tree! The parents are crooks, the son is a monster!” “No wonder he’s so cold-blooded, it’s in his DNA!” “He doesn’t deserve to be called the son of a hero! And they don’t deserve to be called heroes!” Staring at the venomous words scrolling across the screen, I coughed, and a spray of black blood erupted from my mouth before I passed out. When I woke, I was drowning in the glare of spotlights. I was tied to a chair, an inmate at my own inquisition. Before me was a massive banquet hall, hung with huge red banners: PUBLIC TRIAL OF THE TRAITOR LUKE, WHO BETRAYED HIS COUNTRY AND COMRADES! Below, a sea of hateful eyes stared up at me. I tried to shrink back in terror. Ryan yanked my hair, forcing my head down. “Today, the families of every victim your family has destroyed are here!” he bellowed. “Since the authorities won’t act, I, Ryan, will deliver justice! Today is the day of judgment for the sinner, Luke! His family is steeped in evil! His parents were not heroes, but criminals who stole millions and ran!” The massive screen behind me lit up. It was a video of my parents, walking hand-in-hand on a beach. They were older, their faces lined, but it was them. It was unmistakably my mom and dad. “No. Impossible.” I shook my head, trembling uncontrollably. Ryan kept yanking my hair, forcing me to bow again and again to the jeering crowd. A glass flew from the audience, shattering against my forehead. Warm blood streamed into my eyes. “Avenge the fallen firefighters!” “A family of traitors! They all deserve to die!” Ryan smiled and took Ava’s hand. “I told you, Captain. You can’t win against me.” Ava looked at me with something like pity. “Luke, just kneel and confess. Otherwise, these families… they’re really going to kill you.” I started to laugh, and the laughter turned into tears. Without her, Ryan would never have dared. The old Ava would have cried if I so much as scraped my knee on a call. This Ava seemed to be hoping I’d die sooner rather than later. “Ava,” I rasped, “you will regret this.” She flinched, then bit her lip. “This has nothing to do with Ryan. I just… I can’t watch you continue down this dark path.” Her phone rang. After a brief call, her expression grew even colder. “Luke, the Fire Department brass is on their way with the decoded body camera. It’s over.” Ryan lost his patience. He waved a hand to men planted in the crowd. They surged onto the stage. “This one’s for the teammate you murdered!” one of them yelled, burying his fist in my stomach. The air rushed out of my lungs, and I spat up a mouthful of blood. Someone else poured a pitcher of ice-cold alcohol over my head. The searing pain in my countless wounds was blinding. “Stop… this is a crime…” An older woman rushed the stage and punched me square in the face. “You killed my son! You’re not fit to be a firefighter! Give me back my son!” More people swarmed me. “My brother died because of your parents!” “My husband had just gotten married! He never even had a chance to have children!” They kicked and punched, clawing at me, beating me with whatever they could find. Soon, I was a mess of blood and bruised flesh. One of my ears went deaf from a blow, and someone ground a broken piece of glass into my palm. Blood and tears mingled on my face. The livestream chat scrolled at a dizzying speed, a chorus of cheers. “Yeah! Beat him to death!” “He deserves it! This is what happens to traitors!” “The streamer is a hero! Taking out the trash!” “Make his parents come back and face the music too!” My consciousness began to fade in a haze of pain and humiliation. I bit my lip until it bled, fighting to stay upright. Just then, the doors to the banquet hall were kicked open. A team of uniformed police officers stormed in, followed by the city’s Fire Chief, his face a mask of frantic worry. When his eyes landed on me, they turned red with fury. He held up my body camera and roared, his voice cracking with emotion. “All of you, STOP! You’re destroying a true hero!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386333”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

They called me the luckiest woman in the city. An orphan, I had found a broken man in the gutters, and with a little begging here, a little borrowing there, I had somehow nursed Julian Devereux, the heir to the Devereux fortune, back to life. In return, he had lifted me from obscurity and was about to make me his wife. Everyone said he spoiled me, let me run wild with his affection. When I idly mentioned I liked pearls, a collection once belonging to British royalty appeared at my door. When I gazed at a single rose, the next morning, the entire estate was carpeted in the rare Louis XIV varietal. He was the untouchable Lord Devereux, master of his family’s empire. And then, at the zenith of my fairy tale, the day he was to make me his, I met Vivienne Pembroke. And she had my face. … Vivienne tilted my chin up with a manicured finger, her eyes a canvas of undisguised contempt. “You do have a pretty face, I’ll give you that.” Whispers erupted around us. “That’s Vivienne Pembroke… she looks exactly like her…” “Be quiet. Do you know who she is? The Pembroke heiress. She could snap her fingers and half the Capital would tremble. As for her origins…” No matter how Julian tried to hide it, the fact that I was an orphan could never be erased. They just didn’t dare say it aloud. Not after what happened to the last person who did. At a gala, when Julian first brought me into his world, a society matron had sneered about my parentage. Julian had merely glanced at her, his expression placid. The next day, that woman was found on the city’s busiest street, broken and begging, her mind gone. No one had breathed a word against me since. In the next instant, the glowing cherry of Vivienne’s cigarette was pressed against my cheek. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. I cried out in pain and shoved her away. She stumbled backward, falling gracefully into Julian Devereux’s arms. The burn on my face was agony, but a sharper pain lanced through my heart at the look in Julian’s eyes as he held her—a tempest of emotions I had never seen before. “Julian, my face,” Vivienne whimpered. “It hurts so much…” But Julian’s gaze was fixed on the cigarette still in her hand. He gently took it from her fingers. “Your lungs are delicate, Vivi. You must be more careful.” He had completely ignored me. Vivienne looked over his shoulder at me. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to this… young lady?” Only then did Julian seem to notice the weeping burn on my face. He looked away, his voice low. “This is Celine. She’s… my sister.” The ancient jade signet ring on my finger slipped from my grasp, hitting the marble floor and splitting in two. He had placed it there only last night when he’d asked me to be his wife. I looked around the grand ballroom. The crimson banners celebrating our union, the loving portrait of us at the entrance, even the interwoven gold embroidery on our formal attire—everything screamed engagement. So how had I, the fiancée, suddenly become the sister? The jade had broken cleanly, but my heart was tearing apart, a ragged, shredding agony. “Julian…” I stepped forward, wanting to demand an explanation, but he was already turning, shielding Vivienne as he led her away. The whispers swelled into a roar. “I thought this was their engagement party.” “The next lady of the Devereux estate? I wouldn’t be so sure now.” I looked to Julian, the man who couldn’t bear to hear a single bad word spoken about me. He didn’t even glance my way. His entire world was focused on Vivienne. I was invisible. In a haze of pain and medication, I felt a cool sensation on my cheek. I opened my eyes to see Julian carefully applying a salve to the burn. I threw my arms around his waist, clinging to him. “Why did you call me your sister tonight?” He didn’t answer, his voice a low rumble. “I have to go to the Capital City.” The Pembrokes… they were from the Capital. The events of the night—the canceled engagement, his sudden departure, the strange new obsession in his eyes when he looked at Vivienne—crashed over me in a suffocating wave. My heart hammered against my ribs, a painful, frantic rhythm. I couldn’t breathe. “Is it because of her? Because of Vivienne?” Julian’s gaze snapped to mine, cold and hard. “Celine. Be careful what you say.” It was the first time he had ever looked at me with anything but warmth. My voice trembled. “Then tell me why! Why are you going to the Capital? Why did you call me your sister? Why did you cancel our engagement? Why!” He looked away, unable to meet my eyes. “Take Miss Celine to the family chapel,” he commanded the guards at the door. “She will kneel there until she has calmed down.” I stared at him. The man before me was a stranger. Not the Julian who had promised to grant my every wish, to answer my every question. I knelt in the cold chapel, before the stone tombs of his ancestors. Staring at the eternal flame, I whispered a desperate prayer. “Spirits of this house, I will accept a lifetime of hardship and poverty in my next ten lives, if you will only grant me this one with Julian. Let us be together, always.” A soft, mocking laugh echoed from the doorway. Vivienne stood there, wreathed in shadow. “The Devereux ancestors,” she purred, “do you really think they’ll ever accept you?” “A woman like you, Miss Pembroke,” I retorted, my voice shaking, “has no shame, interfering in our relationship?” She laughed again, a low, throaty sound. “Interfering?” She blew a plume of smoke in my direction. “You, who appeared with my face while I was away at university and attached yourself to my childhood sweetheart. You call me the intruder?” With a flick of her wrist, she touched the lit end of her cigarette to an ancient tapestry. It smoldered for a second before catching fire. I tried to scramble away, but she grabbed my arm, her grip like steel. “You think I’m the one who came between you?” she hissed, her face illuminated by the growing flames. The fire spread with terrifying speed, smoke billowing around us. She didn’t seem to feel the heat at all. “Then let’s see who he chooses.” The fire alarms blared. Servants rushed to the chapel doors, but Vivienne pressed the sharp point of a hairpin to her own throat. “Tell Julian Devereux he has to choose between me and Celine, right now! Or we both burn!” I had inhaled too much smoke. My lungs burned, my vision swam. I collapsed to the floor. Through the distorted haze of heat and smoke, I saw Julian burst into the chapel. He swept Vivienne into his arms and ran. He was in such a hurry that he didn’t see me on the floor. His foot came down hard on my outstretched hand, crushing it as he fled. The searing pain jolted me back from the brink of unconsciousness. As the darkness closed in, his promise from the day he brought me to his home echoed in my ears. “Celine, you saved my life. I can only repay it with my own.” “I will give you a lifetime of honor, of wealth, of safety.” But here I was, broken and burning, my life hanging by a thread, abandoned by my savior. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. I waited. Day turned to night, and back to day. I sat as still as a statue, a forgotten idol waiting for a worshipper who would never come. Julian never came. Perhaps the fire had burned away his love, I thought. My heart felt like a hollow chamber of ash, no longer capable of pain. Then, he was there. He gently tried to give me a sip of water. It tasted strange, bitter. I turned my head away, but he gripped my jaw, forcing my mouth open and pouring the liquid down my throat. A fire erupted in my larynx, a pain so intense I thrashed wildly. Julian’s grip only tightened. I tried to cough, to scream, but no sound came out. I was silent. My throat felt as though it had been scoured with acid. A single tear escaped and traced a path through the soot on my cheek. I looked up at Julian. His own eyes were red, rimmed with tears. He gathered me in his arms, his voice a broken whisper. “Celine, it’s okay. From now on, I’ll be your voice. I’ll speak for you…” I bit down on his arm, hard. Blood welled up, but he didn’t flinch, letting me inflict the pain. His tears were hot on my skin, a stark contrast to the chemical fire in my throat. The twin agonies made my head swim. Through the haze, I heard him whisper again. “I’m so sorry…” “Someone has to take the blame for the chapel, Celine… Vivienne can’t… she’s too fragile. And you… you’re too stubborn. You would never have confessed for her.” “This was the only way… I’m so sorry…” When I next awoke, the room was empty. It was all a nightmare. The door opened, and the Devereux matriarch swept in. She placed a document on my bedside table. “When Julian favored you, I allowed your foolishness. But Vivienne is back now. They were meant to be. Everything is finally back on its proper course. It is time for you to leave.” With a trembling hand, I wrote on a notepad: Is this what Julian wants? “Julian’s wishes are no longer relevant.” A thousand protests rose within me—to fight, to scream, to beg. But I touched my throat, the silent, ruined flesh, and signed my name. I wrote one last thing. I have only one condition. I never want to see Julian Devereux again. The matriarch said a car would take me to the airport in the morning. But just as dawn broke, Julian’s men came for me instead. Before the charred ruins of the family chapel, Julian stood with Vivienne shielded behind him. The family elders were gathered, their faces grim. “The ancestral tablets of eighteen generations, the family registry, all of it, gone!” one of them roared. “And you still protect this woman?” Julian’s shoulders relaxed when he saw me. He pulled me before the elders. “Vivienne didn’t do it,” he announced, his voice ringing with false conviction. “Celine burned the chapel.” I wanted to scream, No! But only a strangled gasp escaped my throat. I gestured frantically, trying to explain, but no one looked at me. After a long, tense silence, the eldest patriarch sighed. “Then let the family law be served. Forty-nine lashes. Not one less.” The Devereux “family law” was a brutal tradition. One lash could break a man. I grabbed Julian’s hand, my eyes pleading with him to speak, to stop this. He pulled his hand away, refusing to look at me. “Administer the punishment,” he said softly. As the first whip fell, my mind flashed back to the day I met him. He was fleeing his enemies, bleeding and near death in the ruins of an old church. I found him. He told me he’d give me a million dollars to save him. I told him he was a liar, but I saved him anyway. Later, when he was safe in his magnificent home, he had laughed. “A million dollars is for common people, Celine.” He had offered me the entire Devereux empire. His heart. His whole world. That was to be my reward. At the tenth lash, I thought I heard his voice from the night he proposed. “From this day forward, you are the lady of this house.” “If anyone ever tries to hurt you, they will have to go through my dead body first.” A mouthful of blood escaped my lips, spattering the mended jade ring on his hand. The brilliant green was stained with crimson. A broken gem, even one set in gold, is still just a broken thing. When the forty-ninth lash fell, I was barely breathing, a bloody ruin on the stone floor. In his study, Julian’s heart gave a violent lurch. A terrible, suffocating unease washed over him. He couldn’t name the feeling, but then a frantic shout erupted from outside. “Miss Celine has no heartbeat!” Julian shot to his feet. The world tilted, the room spinning around him. The only words that cut through the chaos were: “No heartbeat!” What did that mean? A hot rush filled his throat, and he doubled over, vomiting blood. The sharp pain cleared his head for a moment. He had to get to her. He threw open the door and came face to face with his grandmother. The matriarch’s smile was glacial. “And where do you think you’re going?” “I have to see Celine…” he mumbled. “See her? Who is she to you?” Her hand cracked across his face. “Remember this! The daughter-in-law of this family, the wife of Lord Devereux, your intended, is Vivienne Pembroke! Not some gutter orphan you picked up off the street!” Julian froze as if struck by lightning. He turned. Behind him, Vivienne stood, her expression unreadable. “Are you going to abandon me for her, too?” she asked quietly. A wave of crushing despair washed over him. He collapsed into a chair, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. It had all been a lie from the start.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386332”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my private photos were leaked by my own husband, a decorated General, I quietly filed my discharge papers and applied for an overseas aid mission, telling no one. The next time I saw Fred Cole was ten years later, at a reunion for our old unit. Most of my friends were married with kids. Only Fred and I, divorced, remained single. “Aria,” a friend whispered, nudging me, “he’s definitely still waiting for you. He hasn’t dated anyone in a decade, never remarried.” Just then, Fred walked in. Clad in his immaculate dress uniform, he commanded the room’s attention. Ten years had passed, but he was still strikingly handsome, the sharp edges of his youth softened into a calm, authoritative presence. Knowing our history, our friends had deliberately seated us together. He watched me for a long time, a thousand unspoken words in his eyes, but all that came out was a quiet greeting. “Aria. It’s been a long time.” “Yes, it has,” I replied coolly, my face a mask, betraying none of the turmoil his presence stirred. I remembered the night before my commendation ceremony, when the internet had exploded with my intimate photos. Overnight, my reputation was in ruins, my medal of honor rescinded. And the man who had released them was my husband, Fred Cole. … I had run to his office, desperate for an explanation. But as I reached for the door, I overheard a conversation that stopped my world. “General, isn’t this a bit too harsh? Captain Evans has bled for this division, nearly died for it. After this, she might not even be allowed to wear the uniform again.” Fred’s voice was as cold as ice. “Maria needs this commendation. For her future in the military, sacrificing Aria once is a worthy trade.” I pressed myself against the wall, a chill seeping into my bones. “Brilliant strategy, sir,” his aide’s voice oozed with sycophancy. “Three simple steps to bring the legendary ‘Hawkeye’ of our Special Forces to heel.” “First, upon her transfer to the Falcon unit, you assigned her that impossible extraction mission, the one doomed to fail.” “Second, you personally led the rescue, earning her undying gratitude and turning her into the sharpest weapon in your arsenal.” “And finally, you coaxed her into taking those risqué photos, the perfect leverage to use at the most critical moment.” Fred chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth, full of cold control. “More interesting than breaking a wild stallion, wouldn’t you say?” The aide hesitated. “But why marry her, sir? Did the act become a little too real?” Fred toyed with his sidearm, a soft, dismissive sound in his throat, as if it had all been a necessary burden. “Three years ago, Maria had just gotten her helicopter pilot’s license. During a night training exercise, she lost control and collided with a military vehicle carrying Aria and her mother. The three-month-old fetus she was carrying, and her mother… they didn’t make it.” “Maria was terrified. It wasn’t her fault,” Fred’s voice remained unnervingly calm. “The other vehicle failed to yield in time.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, my nails digging into my palm until they drew blood. After my mother died, I had been consumed by grief. Fred had held my hand and sworn to me, “Aria, I promise I will find out what happened. I will get justice for you and your mother.” A month later, he had returned, looking weary. “The dashcam data was corrupted. Unrecoverable.” He had pulled me into his arms. “Don’t be afraid. I’m your family now. I’ll protect you with my life. Marry me, Aria.” I looked down at the wedding ring on my finger. This marriage, this so-called happiness, was built on the blood of my mother and my unborn child. “I married her to bury the incident for good,” Fred’s voice shattered my last illusion. “Maria needs a clean slate, and I will personally pave the way for her, every step.” I stumbled back, my combat boots silent on the polished floor. I didn’t stop until I was outside the command building, where I doubled over, my stomach churning violently. I retched until only sour bile came up, then wiped my mouth and pulled out my phone, dialing a number buried deep in my contacts. It was answered on the first ring. “Do you still need that bone marrow match for your sister?” My voice trembled in the night air. “I’ll do it.” “On one condition.” “I want Fred Cole and Maria, their careers, their reputations, utterly destroyed.” A low voice on the other end replied, “Done.” After hanging up, I immediately called my lawyer to draft the divorce papers. I had just finished reviewing them when Fred walked in. “You’re back. Why didn’t you tell me?” He reached for my shoulder. “The guard said you looked pale.” I sidestepped his touch. He probably assumed I was still reeling from the photo leak. He swept me up and set me down on the sofa. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a convincing imitation of concern. “I kept those photos in an encrypted drive. I never thought a hacker could get through. But I promise, I’ll handle this.” I looked into his eyes, clear and sincere, and saw not a flicker of guilt. How many lies had he told me over the years? I pushed him away wearily. “I’m tired. I’m going to take a shower.” The next morning, Fred was already gone. I opened the military forum. The top post was still about my photos. But the one right below it was about Maria. “#BREAKING# Lieutenant Colonel Maria Caught in Late-Night Tryst with Political Officer!” The post included a grainy video of a car rocking violently. After ten minutes, a woman in a disheveled uniform, her face hidden by a mask, got out. But I recognized her immediately. It was Maria. No wonder Fred had disappeared so early. He was probably off doing damage control for his precious Maria. I scoffed, printed the divorce papers, and slipped them into a thick stack of documents on his desk awaiting his signature. I knew his habit. He never double-checked paperwork, just flicked the corner and signed. Then, I started to pack. Opening a storage locker, I froze. For every gift Fred had ever given me, Maria had a matching one. Even my wedding ring had a counterpart on Maria’s finger. Hers and Fred’s looked more like a set than ours did. I ripped the ring from my finger and threw it into the locker, slamming the door shut. “Captain Evans!” A guard knocked urgently on my door. “General Cole is holding an emergency press conference!” On the live feed, Fred stood at a podium in front of the military crest, Maria standing just behind him, her eyes red-rimmed. “Regarding the recent rumors of misconduct within the ranks, the Disciplinary Committee has confirmed the incident did, in fact, occur.” A wave of murmurs went through the press corps. I clenched the hem of my fatigues. Why would he admit it? My eyes darted to Maria. As she lowered her head, I caught the ghost of a triumphant smirk. A chill ran down my spine. “However, the individual involved was not Lieutenant Colonel Maria,” Fred’s voice was firm. “Last night, she was with me in the command center, planning a joint-forces exercise.” The reporters surged forward, microphones outstretched. “Then who was it, General?” Fred’s gaze seemed to pierce through the camera, landing directly on me. “It was my wife,” he said, each word a hammer blow, “Captain Aria Evans.” I stared at the screen, my nails digging so deep into my palms that beads of blood soaked through the fabric of my uniform. On the screen, Maria stepped forward at the perfect moment, her voice thick with emotion but firm. “Although Captain Evans’s actions have caused me to be unjustly accused, I believe she must have had her reasons. As her comrade, we should give her a chance to reform.” She turned to Fred, her voice breaking. “But… General Cole, you have been wronged. Thank you for clearing my name.” In front of the entire world, she saluted him, then fell into his arms. The flashbulbs went off like a volley of gunfire. Several high-ranking officers in the front row began to applaud. A reporter shoved a microphone in Fred’s face. “You’re the youngest General in the division, sir. Why would Captain Evans be involved with someone else?” “Will you be filing for divorce?” “How will the military compensate Lieutenant Colonel Maria?” Fred’s expression was one of profound pain. “No matter what happens, I will not abandon my marriage. As her husband, I will always be Aria’s support.” He looked down at Maria, still in his arms. “As for compensation—after careful consideration, command of the ‘Thunder’ Special Operations unit, formerly under Captain Aria Evans, will be transferred to Lieutenant Colonel Maria, effective immediately.” The words had barely registered before I was running to the bathroom, vomiting violently into the toilet. It was disgusting. He was stabbing me in the back while publicly declaring himself my “support.” My eyes burning, I opened the military forum again. My inbox was flooded with hate mail. “Disgrace to the army!” “You call yourself Special Forces? Get out!” “Divorce him already! Maria and the General are the perfect match!” Fred knew exactly how devastating a disciplinary action was to a soldier’s career. And he hadn’t hesitated to throw me to the wolves. Why? I opened the internal grievance system, but as I started to type, a message popped up: “ACCESS DENIED.” A secure line from the Chief of Staff patched through. “Captain Evans, all your system access has been temporarily suspended by direct order of the Joint Chiefs.” He paused. “General Cole asked me to inform you that if you make any unauthorized statements, you will be prosecuted for leaking military secrets.” The comms unit slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. “Fred Cole,” I whispered to the empty room, “you are a master.” Fred came home late, reeking of alcohol. I was sitting on the sofa in the dark. He walked past me without a word. “Don’t you have anything to explain to me?” He stopped, rubbing his temples. “It was an emergency. There was no time to consult you. Maria was innocent. She was set up.” “And me?” I stared at him. “I deserved to be the scapegoat? General, did you give any thought to my rank, my honor?” He avoided my gaze, fiddling with the cuff of his uniform. “Officially, Maria was also on the shortlist for the commendation. Your disciplinary action was already logged. The military had to protect one of you. Unofficially, she’s my foster sister. You’re her sister-in-law. Were you going to stand by and watch her career be destroyed? It was just one disciplinary mark.” Every word was an icicle, piercing the last of my illusions. In his eyes, officially or unofficially, I was worth less than a single hair on Maria’s head. “Look,” he said, his tone softening slightly, “I have leave in a few days. I’ll take you away, we’ll clear our heads.” He reached for my face, but I flinched away. His expression darkened. “Aria, I’m already at my wits’ end trying to bury your photo scandal. Can’t you see the bigger picture for once?” He turned and strode into his study, slamming the door behind him. I stood there, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. A little longer. Just until he signs the papers. Then I would make him pay for everything he owed me, a thousand times over. I wiped the tears from my eyes, heated a glass of milk, and brought it to him in the study, my customary peace offering. His expression softened, and he pulled me into his lap. “Just be good. As long as you follow orders, I will always have your back.” His hand slid under my shirt, his palm hot against my skin. Fighting back a wave of nausea, I pushed the stack of documents in front of him. “You should work first. Then you can come to bed.” He chuckled, squeezing my arm, and started signing, one document after another. He didn’t even notice when he signed his name on the divorce agreement I had slipped into the middle of the stack. For the next few days, I stayed in my quarters, waiting for the divorce to be finalized. But Maria wasn’t done with me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386331”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 At the gala celebrating her return, I was publicly exposed as the fake heiress. The real one, Clarissa, glanced at the limited-edition bracelet on my wrist—a gift from my brother—and sneered. “Oh, so this is the little playmate Mom and Dad found for my brother? What, is she warming his bed now too?” The blood drained from my face. It was true. I was the one switched at birth. But at twelve, I had awakened a power. The power of Utterance. I said Mom and Dad’s company would go public, and the Sterling family became the wealthiest in the city. I said my brother, Julian, would become an A-list star, and now he was a household name. So how is it that the moment their long-lost daughter returns, I’m reduced to some shameless creature warming her brother’s bed?! So I spoke, my voice soft but clear. “From this day forward, the Sterling family’s fortune will plummet. Misfortune will cling to them like a shadow, and nothing they do will ever succeed.” … Every eye in the room was fixed on me. “She’s been playing the heiress for so long she actually believes it. Pathetic.” “No wonder she’s sleeping her way up. She’s terrified of getting kicked out.” I remembered the promise I’d made to my parents—to get along with Clarissa, to help her integrate into high society. I forced a smile. “We both share the Sterling name. From now on, we’re family.” Clarissa burst out laughing as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world, her body shaking with mirth. Then, just as quickly, her smile vanished, replaced by pure contempt. “Family? Who the hell do you think you are to call me family?” “Let me tell you something. If it weren’t for Mom and Dad’s pity, gutter trash like you would never have stepped foot in this house. Did you really think the Sterling mansion was some kind of charity shelter?” “All these years, you’ve been eating our food, spending our money. You’re going to pay back every single penny. Don’t even think about shorting me!” A cold laugh escaped my lips, my gaze imperious. “I cost the Sterlings? Ask Mom and Dad if they dare to say that to my face.” The Sterling family owed their entire status to me—to my power of Utterance. I said that plot of land downtown would skyrocket in value, and Grandpa invested his entire fortune, turning it into billions overnight. I said that overseas partnership had potential, and Dad decisively signed the deal, becoming the richest man in the city. I said Mom had a tumor growing inside her. A check-up confirmed it, and they caught it early, snatching her back from the jaws of death. I said the new script offered to Julian would be a blockbuster. He took the role against his fans’ wishes, and the film earned him the Best Actor award, launching him into superstardom. Grandpa cherished me, calling me the true jewel of the Sterling family. The last servant who whispered about my identity was fed to the sharks in international waters. Mom and Dad paraded me at every banquet; Julian walked me down every red carpet. Everyone knew I was the Sterling heiress. Clarissa stared at me as if I were insane. “Who do you think you are, spouting such nonsense!” A sharp crack echoed as her hand connected with my cheek. A searing pain shot through me. “Looks like you’ve gotten so used to being the master, you’ve forgotten how to be the dog!” she hissed. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you today.” “As it happens, my shoes are dirty. Lick them clean, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear a word you just said.” All eyes were on me, hungry for my humiliation. I slapped her right back. The crisp sound reverberated through the vast hall. A collective gasp went through the crowd. Clarissa clutched her face, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Seraphina, you psycho! How dare you hit me!” I looked at her, my voice cold as ice. “If your mouth is filthy, you should wash it.” “Consider that slap a welcome gift.” Her face flushed a deep red, the imprint of my hand stark against her skin. “Today, I’ll show you who the real Sterling heiress is!” she shrieked. “A parasite who does nothing but suck our family dry dares to be so arrogant in front of her master!” With a flick of her eyes, several burly bodyguards grabbed me, pinning my arms. Clarissa snatched a steak knife from a nearby table and waved it menacingly in front of my face. “Let’s see how you’re going to climb into my brother’s bed without this pretty face!” The moment the cold steel touched my skin, the ballroom doors were kicked open. A commanding voice cut through the tension. “Stop this right now!” My brother, Julian, strode into the room. Clarissa immediately dropped the act and threw herself into his arms. “Julian, you’re finally here,” she sobbed. “Sera hit me in front of everyone and said she’s the real Sterling heiress.” Julian’s gaze swept over the scene, and the bodyguards holding me instantly let go. “Sera, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Seeing that Julian wasn’t scolding me but was worried instead, Clarissa’s face twisted with anger. “Brother, your taste is really something else. A girl like this is fine to play with for a while, but are you seriously planning to keep her in the family?” “Or do you also think she’s the real heiress?” Julian frowned, looking uncomfortable. “Clarissa, this is supposed to be a happy occasion. Let’s not ruin it.” But she wasn’t having it. Her voice grew louder, more aggressive. “Am I wrong? She’s a parasite who only survives because of our family’s charity!” “I heard she only got into her university because of the Sterling family’s connections. What is she if not a gold digger?” The guests started murmuring. “So she’s not just an adopted daughter, but a leech too. How shameless!” “She uses the Sterling name to build herself up and then claims the family owes everything to her.” “Now that the real heiress is back, she’s nothing more than a bed warmer.” I clenched my fists, my eyes locked on Julian. But he just kept frowning, his voice low. “That’s enough. Stop making a scene.” Clarissa, however, was relentless. She grabbed my wrist and held it high for everyone to see. “This bracelet is the new limited edition, isn’t it? What right does a bed warmer have to wear something like this?” She turned to Julian. “Brother, a five-million-dollar bracelet… you really are generous. But now that I’m back, she’s not taking a single thing from this family with her!” With that, she tried to rip the bracelet off my wrist. It was a perfect fit and wouldn’t budge. The metal dug painfully into my skin, but she refused to let go. Julian finally stepped in. “That’s enough, Clarissa! If you want one, I’ll buy you another.” She jutted out her chin, her eyes challenging me. “I want the one on her wrist!” “It won’t come off? Someone, get me a cleaver! If the bracelet won’t come off, then neither will her hand!” My voice, when I finally spoke, was like ice. “Clarissa.” She gave me a playful, mocking look. “What is it, Seraphina? What are you going to do? What can you do?” Before the words were even out of her mouth, I kicked her squarely in the knee. With a thud, she collapsed to the floor, groaning in pain. Julian rushed to her side, his face etched with concern. “Are you hurt anywhere?” Then, he turned to me, his expression furious. “Sera, you’ve gone too far today. Apologize to Clarissa. Now!” I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “Apologize? She publicly called me a whore, your plaything, and threatened to chop off my hand, and you want me to apologize?” Julian’s face was grim. “Clarissa’s young, she’s just running her mouth. Do you really have to stoop to her level?” “If you don’t apologize today, don’t blame me for turning my back on you!” He glared at me, seething. Clarissa hid behind him, wearing the smug, triumphant look of the true heiress. “How can a fake compare to the real thing? She should learn her place.” “Exactly. Julian tried to be nice, but she resorted to violence. They’ve clearly spoiled her rotten.” “Someone needs to teach her a lesson before she gets completely out of control!” The guests’ whispers reached my ears, but Julian acted as if he heard nothing. “I’ll say it one more time. Apologize!” I looked at the man before me, a complete stranger. Meeting his furious gaze, I asked, “And if I don’t?” Clarissa jumped in before he could answer. “If you don’t apologize, we’re kicking you out of this house today! Let’s see where a stray dog like you will go!” Julian nodded in silent agreement. “The Sterling family has protected you for years. Instead of being grateful, you attack Clarissa! Your arrogance is unbelievable!” he spat. “And don’t give me that nonsense about how you’re the reason for our family’s success. We let it slide because you were a kid, but did you really start believing your own ridiculous fantasy about having some magic power? What a joke.” The coldness that washed over me was absolute. All those years, everything I had done for them, they had simply taken for granted. Clarissa howled with laughter. “What ‘power of Utterance’? Have you been watching too much TV? You’ve got to be delusional! The Sterling family is a massive enterprise. You really think we’d go bankrupt without you?!” Just then, the ballroom doors opened again. Mom and Dad, Jasmine and Richard, had returned from their meeting. Dad spoke first, his voice low and displeased. “What is the three of you doing? Making a spectacle of yourselves in front of our guests?” Clarissa latched onto his arm, whining like a child. “Dad, don’t be mad. It was all Seraphina. She was saying the family can’t survive without her, and it just made me so angry. Besides, she’s an outsider. I’m your real daughter.” Mom, Jasmine, pulled Clarissa into her arms, her eyes scanning her from head to toe, frantic with worry, as if terrified she’d suffered the slightest harm. Though her words were meant for the crowd, her eyes shot a look at me, a flicker of blame she couldn’t quite hide. “Sera, how could you say such things in front of everyone?” Clarissa pouted. “I just wanted my sister’s bracelet, and she started yelling at me.” Her voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes. “Mom, she’s just the adopted daughter. Why does she get to wear such an expensive bracelet?” Mom hugged her tighter, cooing softly. “And your brother… giving something so valuable to an outsider. He has no sense.” I stared at my mother, stunned. The word “outsider,” coming from her lips, was a final, brutal shredding of the last piece of dignity I had left in front of all these people. I felt the blood rush to my head, then recede just as quickly, leaving only a bone-deep chill. Clarissa shot me a triumphant, gloating look. I looked back at Mom, all hope extinguished. “When you were sick, I saved your life. You told me then that I was your real daughter. What about now?” Every time I used my power, it left me physically drained. The time I saved Mom was the worst; I was bedridden for three whole months. Her hand swung through the air, and my cheek stung with a fresh wave of pain. “Clarissa is the rightful heiress of this family, my only daughter! You were nothing but her substitute,” she hissed. “And you saved me? The only people I have to thank are my doctors! Stop trying to take credit for everything!” Dad’s brow furrowed. “Give the bracelet to Clarissa. It’s what you owe her.” The words caught in my throat. “Dad, what about the contract I told you to sign, the one that made the family fortune? Have you forgotten that?” Richard’s face darkened. “That was my foresight and strategic planning. What does it have to do with you? You think you can make this family the richest in the city with just a few words? You’re dreaming!” Julian scoffed, looking down his nose at me. “I won the Best Actor award because I have a good eye for scripts. It had nothing to do with you.” I was a plague. The entire Sterling family was recoiling from me. But without my power, how could they have ever reached these heights? The gossiping guests grew bolder. “To say the Sterling family relies on her is absurd. She really thinks she’s someone special!” “She’s probably got a few screws loose. They should kick her out before she causes more trouble!” Clarissa’s voice dripped with victory. “The ‘power of Utterance’? Someone’s been watching too many cartoons! Anyway, I’m back now. Let’s just kick her out today and be done with it!” Julian nodded. “I only have one sister, and I won’t have just any stray claiming to be family.” Mom ordered me to kneel and apologize to my “sister.” Dad’s voice boomed. “Butler, throw Seraphina out immediately. Strip her of everything that belongs to the Sterling family. She leaves with nothing. I want to see what becomes of an ungrateful wretch like her without our protection.” I laughed, a laugh born of pure rage. As the Sterlings stared in shock, I uttered the words for the very first time as a curse. “From this day forward, the Sterling family’s fortune will plummet. Misfortune will cling to them like a shadow, and nothing they do will ever succeed.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386330”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My childhood best friend always thought I was stupid. He spent three years trying to teach me how to swim and failed. Yet, he managed to teach his cute little junior from school in just three days. In the pool, the girl wrapped herself around him like she had no bones. “My leg cramped, Gavin. I have to hold onto you. Mia won’t be mad, will she?” I stared at them coldly for a moment. And then, I suddenly woke up. Later, when Gavin saw me at the natatorium, clinging like a koala to a coach with pale skin, broad shoulders, a snatched waist, and a six-pack, he ground his teeth so hard I thought they’d crack. “Mia! Get down from there right now!” I leaned into the massive, muscular chest of my protective new coach and feigned shyness. “You know what? You really do learn faster this way.” 1 I stood by the poolside. Gavin was helping his junior, Lily, practice kicking. They were facing each other, holding hands. It didn’t look like a swimming lesson. It looked like a scene from The Bachelor. “Mia, do you see this? She’s only been learning for three days and look at those splashes. I taught you for three years and you’re still doing the doggy paddle.” Gavin had taught me for three years, true. But every session ended with him mocking my posture or starting a splash fight until we both gave up. He never treated me with the patience he was showing her. Suddenly, a squeal echoed from the water. Lily yelped and threw her arms around Gavin’s neck. “Gavin! My thigh hurts…” Without a word, Gavin scooped her up in a bridal carry. He shot a provocative look my way. He was betting on my jealousy. After fifteen years of friendship, he was used to me pining after him. He thought he had me figured out. The girl shrank into his arms, looking at me with wide, innocent doe eyes. “My leg cramped. I had to have him hold me. Mia isn’t mad, is she?” Gavin raised an eyebrow at me, casual and arrogant. I stared at them. I felt something heavy in my chest sink to the bottom. And shatter. I turned around and walked away without looking back. 2 If this one can’t teach me, I’ll find one who can. Stop looking for problems within yourself and start blaming others. That’s my new motto. If Gavin could teach Lily instantly, then clearly, I just needed the right motivation. I needed a hot coach who could princess-carry me in the water, encourage me, and keep me entertained. I marched straight to the aquatic center my uncle owned. I slammed my list of non-negotiables on his desk. “I want pale skin. Broad shoulders, narrow waist. Abs are mandatory. Pecs are mandatory. Biceps are mandatory. He has to be over six feet tall, single-digit body fat, long legs, good proportions. No uggos, no old guys. He needs a nice voice and gentle eyes.” My uncle’s face twisted up like a pretzel. “Mia, honey, are you hiring a coach or looking for a boyfriend?” “I don’t care! If you can’t find a coach like that, I’ll never learn to swim!” “You child… who picks a swim coach based on their abs?” Just then, a splash echoed through the glass. A man stood up in the lap pool. Water droplets rolled down his porcelain skin, over broad shoulders, a tapered waist, and abs that looked carved from marble. His chest was distractingly defined. He swept his wet hair back with one hand, revealing a face so handsome it felt like an attack. I grabbed my uncle’s arm, shaking him. “Him! That one! I want him!” Uncle Ray slapped my hand away. “He doesn’t take students. Stop drooling. That’s Chase. He’s a pro athlete. He just trains here during his off-season.” I pouted, disappointed. The man tilted his head, towel-drying his hair. Water dripped from his sharp jawline. His gaze, half-amused, drifted over and collided with mine. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked my uncle. “Oh, Mia is my niece. She hasn’t learned to swim in three years and insists she needs a hot guy to teach her. It’s ridiculous. Blaming the coach’s face for her lack of skills…” “Three years and still can’t swim?” Chase raised an eyebrow. He looked at me, the amusement in his eyes deepening. “Uncle Ray, put her on my schedule. I’ll teach her.” 3 I didn’t expect Chase to be so easygoing. He was a literal National Level swimmer, yet he was willing to teach a potato like me. “No competitions coming up. I’m bored,” he said, leaning down toward me. His handsome face was suddenly inches from mine. I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Is it true? Three years and you still can’t swim?” His voice was deep, magnetic. I nodded awkwardly. Chase smirked. “Then it really must be the coach’s fault.” Professional athletes really are built different. Before we even got in the water, he had to go over the theory. Chase was shirtless, a towel draped casually over his shoulders. Because I was significantly shorter, he had to lean in constantly. The distance was… intimate. High nose bridge, thick lashes, a bobbing Adam’s apple dampened by humidity… I quickly looked down. Full chest, deep-cut abs, the V-line disappearing into his trunks… Jesus. This was too much for a teenage girl to handle. “Got it?” Chase waved a hand in front of my face. “If you don’t understand any of the points I just made, just ask.” Points? What points? I was too busy connecting the dots on his abs. “Um… your physique is too distracting. I think I got dizzy. Can you explain it again?” I thought he’d be like Gavin—impatient, calling me stupid or unfocused. Instead, he paused, then let out a low chuckle. His eyes curved into crescents, utterly bewitching. “Sorry. That was inconsiderate of me.” He went into the locker room, threw on a T-shirt, came back out, and explained everything again, slowly and carefully. 4 Theory met practice. It was time to get wet. I’ve been terrified of water since I was a kid. The moment it goes past my chest, I panic. Chase seemed to sense it. He got in first and held out a hand. “Don’t be scared. Come on. I’ll catch you.” I plucked up the courage to step down, but my foot slipped on the tile. I pitched forward, losing my balance. The water rushed over my head. Panic set in. My hands flailed wildly, grabbing onto… well, something I probably shouldn’t have grabbed. Chase stabilized me, holding me up by the arms. My face exploded with heat. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I slipped and panicked and—” His expression was calm, though the tips of his ears were a suspicious shade of pink. “When you’re drowning, anything is a lifeline, right?” I was mortified. “You aren’t mad?” He smiled faintly, his tone gentle. “Next time, I’ll hold you tighter. I promise I won’t let you slip.” When I got out of the pool, my phone was vibrating off the bench. It was a wall of texts from Gavin. You jealous? If you don’t reply, I know you’re actually mad. Okay, fine. I dropped the junior off. Where are you? I’ll come find you. Are you seriously mad? It’s such a small thing, don’t be dramatic. I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt and let out a long breath. I locked the screen. Out of sight, out of mind. “Boyfriend?” Chase’s voice came from the water. He was leaning against the pool edge, arms resting on the deck, water glistening on his muscles. “No,” I denied. “He’s…” I used to think of Gavin as my boyfriend-in-waiting. We grew up together. He was good-looking, and girls always flocked to him, but he treated me differently. He teased me, sure, but he always coaxed me back. I thought he was just dense. But seeing how gentle he was with Lily proved he wasn’t clueless. He just didn’t want to be that way with me. I forced a bitter smile. “He’s my former swimming coach. The one who couldn’t teach me in three years.” Chase nodded thoughtfully. “His loss. No wonder he’s the ‘former’ coach.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386329”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day Julian Hayes brought me back from that underground auction, he stood over me, cold and imperious. “I only bought you because I needed a new plaything. Don’t flatter yourself thinking I still have feelings for you.” I knew he hated me. He hated me for breaking our engagement years ago when he was at his lowest, stripped of his inheritance and dignity. So, even when he showered me with expensive gifts and affection later, I never forgot my place: just a toy. Toys don’t get to have babies. So when I found out I was pregnant, I kept it a secret. The day he left to pick up his “first love” from the airport, I didn’t make a scene. I quietly packed my bags and vanished. I thought he wouldn’t care. But later, I heard the rumors. That night, Julian tore the city apart, like a madman, looking for the woman he claimed he despised. 1 I was bored, scrolling through TikTok on the couch. The moment I opened the app, Julian’s face filled the screen. He’d been at a major business summit the past few days, and footage of him was everywhere. With his sharp jawline, tailored suit, and commanding presence, the comment section was flooded with thirsty fans calling him “Daddy” and “Husband.” But the internet detectives were quick. In one interview clip, someone zoomed in on his neck. There was a very distinct, very red bite mark just above his collar. The “Daddy” comments instantly turned into heartbroken wails. Who is the lucky girl eating that good?! She really went for the jugular. That mark hasn’t faded in days. Someone was hungry. Reading the comments, my face burned. I couldn’t help but remember the night before he left for the summit. He held me like a child, but his energy was relentless, almost desperate. He said he needed to “stock up” for the days he’d be gone. I was exhausted, crying, begging him to stop, but he just kept whispering things in my ear, not slowing down. In a fit of frustration, I bit down hard on his neck. Pain didn’t stop him. It only seemed to fuel him. That night, I genuinely thought I might not survive him. The next morning, Julian stood in front of the mirror, tracing the bruise with his fingertips. He stared at it for a long time. I thought he was annoyed. “I’m sorry,” I said, walking up behind him. “I can cover it with concealer.” “No need,” he replied instinctively. “Leave it. I like it.” Then he seemed to remember who he was talking to. He paused, his expression cooling. “Don’t overthink it. I just mean… it saves me a lot of unnecessary trouble. Works as a deterrent.” My heart sank a little. So, it was just a shield against unwanted advances. For a second, I thought he actually liked the mark I left on him. 2 I shook off the memory and looked back at the phone. In the video, a bold reporter asked the question everyone was dying to know: “Mr. Hayes, are you married?” Usually, Julian ignored personal questions. But this time, he smiled. “Not yet. But… it should be soon.” The reporter gasped. “Wow, congratulations! Can you tell us about your fiancée? What is she like?” Julian looked directly into the camera. “If the proposal goes well, I’ll introduce her to everyone.” My heart skipped a beat. Who was he proposing to? Me? Just then, I heard the maids gossiping in the hallway. “Did you hear? Miss Liang is coming back to the States soon.” The spark of hope in my chest was instantly extinguished. Right. How could it be me? I was the woman who kicked him when he was down. Miss Liang—Elena Liang—was the heiress who extended a hand to pull him out of the mud when everyone else turned their backs. Any sane man would know who to choose. 3 My father and Julian’s father were college roommates. Because we were born on the same day in the same hospital, they jokingly promised we’d get married one day. Years later, the Hayes family empire grew massive in New York. My dad, eager to climb the social ladder, wanted to make that joke a reality. Before I met Julian for the first time, my dad drilled it into me: “Be charming. Make him like you.” I was a bratty kid. “No way. Kissing up to people is for losers.” Then I saw Julian walking toward me. He was pale, delicate, and devastatingly beautiful, like a little prince from a storybook. I changed my mind immediately. Guess I’m a loser then. I ran up to him, eyes sparkling. “Hi! I’m Nina. What’s your name?” Julian looked at me warily and didn’t speak. “My dad said we’re engaged,” I announced. “That means you’re my future husband. And since your last name is Hayes, I’m gonna call you Hubby Hayes!” “Hubby Hayes! Hubby Hayes!” I chanted, jumping around him. Julian froze, a pink flush spreading across his porcelain cheeks. Adults started looking over, amused by the loud little girl and the mortified boy. “Stop yelling!” he whispered, covering my mouth. “I’ll… I’ll tell you. I’m Julian.” He dropped his hand. I grinned. “Hubby Julian, you have a pretty name!” He turned beet red. “You… you’re impossible!” He stormed off. I chased right after him. “Hubby Julian! Wait for me!” … I pestered him for years, all the way until our families officially announced the engagement. But the girl who chased him, who swore she’d marry him… she was also the one who walked into his house after his father died and the vultures stripped his family of their assets. I walked in and broke the engagement. For Julian, who was already drowning, it was the final blow. I’ll never forget that day. When he saw me, his eyes lit up with a fragile hope. And when I said “It’s over,” I watched the light die, replaced by a shattered, hollow despair. After that, he came to my house. He stood outside my gate for hours, in the rain, in the wind. Just wanting to see me. My dad asked, “Do you want to see him?” I swallowed the agonizing lump in my throat. “No.” Dad smiled, satisfied. “That’s my smart girl.” Eventually, Dad got tired of Julian’s persistence. He sent security to drive him away, using the cruelest, most humiliating insults imaginable. It worked. After that day, Julian Hayes vanished from my life. … I thought our paths would never cross again. But karma is real. My dad made bad investments and racked up millions in debt. He jumped off a bridge. My uncle took me in, pretending to care, only to sell me to an underground trafficking ring to pay off his own debts. That’s where Julian found me. He bought me. When he brought me back to his penthouse, he looked down at me with ice in his eyes. “I was in the market for a pet. Don’t think this means I forgive you, or that I still care.” I knew he hated me. So I played the part. The obedient pet. But I heard stories. I heard that Julian, who had just reclaimed his empire and was still fighting for stability, made enemies with the powerful Jiang family just to secure my bid at that auction. I heard that my uncle’s ruin—and the prison sentence that followed—was entirely Julian’s doing. These things… they made me hope. They made me fantasize that maybe, just maybe, he still loved me. … I shook my head, forcing the thoughts away. Stop it, Nina. If he loved anyone, it was Elena Liang. The Liang Corp heiress who saved him when I abandoned him. 4 “What are you thinking about?” A deep voice rumbled above me. I looked up to find Julian staring down at me. “Thinking about you,” I answered instinctively. Julian raised an eyebrow. He sat next to me on the sofa and pinched my cheek. “Seducing me?” He smirked. “A few days away and your techniques have improved.” My face heated up. He always did this. When I first moved in, I walked out of the bathroom in full-length flannel pajamas. He stared at me darkly and asked, “Who are you trying to tempt dressed like that?” Another time, I dissolved a Vitamin C tablet for him. He sneered, “Drugging me? I knew you had ulterior motives.” I learned to just shut up. Explaining never worked. 5 Julian was back, which meant my nights belonged to him. He kept me up until the early hours of the morning. My body was exhausted, and my mind was bitter. Men really can separate sex and love, I thought. He’s planning to propose to another woman, but he’s still using me like this. Scumbag. “Focus,” he growled, gripping my chin. “You have the nerve to zone out right now? Nina, you’re getting bold.” “I haven’t even punished you for watching thirst traps earlier.” Turns out, he saw my phone screen. Earlier, to hide the video of him, I refreshed my feed, and the first thing that popped up was a shirtless guy dancing. “It was the algorithm! I’m innocent!” I cried, clinging to his neck. He ignored my pleas and carried me to the floor-to-ceiling mirror. He sat me on his lap, facing the glass. One arm wrapped around my waist, the other forcing my chin up so I had to look at our reflection. He bit my earlobe. “Watch closely. Watch how I own you.” … Afterward, I slept like the dead. I didn’t feel him slip a ring onto my left ring finger while I slept. He examined my hand, whispering to himself, “A little loose. I’ll get it resized tomorrow.” He took the ring back, then pinched my cheek, muttering through gritted teeth, “Nina, if you dare say no when I propose, you’re dead.” He told himself this was punishment. Since I abandoned him so ruthlessly, he would trap me in a marriage, bind me to him for life. Yes. It was just revenge. Definitely not because he couldn’t live without me. Julian lowered his eyes, repeating the lie to himself.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386328”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was the “fake” heiress, living a life that wasn’t mine. The Vanderbilts’ biological child was actually a son. Years later, the “real” son, Julian, was brought back into the fold, and I was demoted from the cherished daughter to the charity case. But the real heir harbored dark, twisted feelings for me. In my past life, right before my engagement to another man, Julian drugged me and imprisoned me in his private villa. To possess me completely, he didn’t hesitate to fabricate scandals that ruined my reputation, leaving me with nowhere else to turn. I waited until he was distracted by a commercial marriage meant to save the failing Vanderbilt empire, and I drowned myself in the villa’s bathtub. When I opened my eyes, I was ten years old again. Back to the time before the real heir had twisted into a psychopath. 1 “Riley, that’s the children’s home your father sponsored in your name. Do you want to go down and take a look?” “If not, we can just go home and open your birthday presents…” “Mom! I want to go see it!” Mrs. Vanderbilt paused, clearly surprised that her usually spoiled little princess was being so sensible today. “It’s a birthday gift from Dad, after all. If I go look, Dad will be happy too!” I looked at Mrs. Vanderbilt’s youthful face and tried my best to mimic the innocence of a ten-year-old. At this point in time, I hadn’t been discarded by the family yet. I hadn’t suffered the torture. The person who ruined my entire previous life was currently ten years old, just like me, living inside that brick building Mrs. Vanderbilt had just pointed out. After we got out of the car, the director came out to greet us personally. I spotted him immediately. Julian stood awkwardly in the courtyard, clutching a piece of candy, looking at us with curiosity. He wasn’t yet the gloomy, volatile, cruel man from my past life. Even at ten, he looked exactly like Mr. Vanderbilt—a spitting image of him in miniature form. I broke free from Mrs. Vanderbilt’s hand, hiked up my princess dress, and ran toward Julian. Under the confused gazes of the adults, I grabbed his hand. “Mom! He looks just like Dad! I want him to be my brother!” 2 Julian was brought back to the Vanderbilt estate. I didn’t miss the suspicion in Mrs. Vanderbilt’s eyes. She would arrange a DNA test very soon. After all, a random orphan looking exactly like her husband screamed “illegitimate child.” In my past life, an eighteen-year-old Julian was discovered by my father’s assistant working at a construction site. In that timeline, he had been adopted by a wealthy couple who ran a business. But no one knew that was the beginning of his descent into madness. The wealthy husband was a pervert with violent tendencies; he had long ago beaten his wife into infertility. Julian’s arrival just gave him a new punching bag. Later, when Julian was thirteen, the man noticed how handsome his adopted son was becoming and got twisted ideas. He tried to assault Julian while the wife was out. In the struggle, Julian stabbed the man to death. He didn’t spare the wife when she returned, either. In a fit of rage and trauma, he dismembered them both. Because he was under fourteen and the circumstances were complex, he was sent to juvenile detention for three years. When he got out, he had no education and no home. He drifted for two more years before the Vanderbilts found him. He told me all of this while he kept me prisoner in my past life. He said he hated me. He hated that I stole the life that should have been his. … Back in the present, when Father heard I brought a boy back from the orphanage, he didn’t care much. If adopting a playmate made his daughter happy, fine. But when Mr. Vanderbilt saw Julian’s face, he exchanged a look with his wife. The suspicion took root instantly. Money buys efficiency. The DNA results came back the next day. Julian was biologically related to both Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt. I, however, was not. Unlike the public scandal of my past life, this time, the Vanderbilts hid the fact that I wasn’t their blood. They simply announced to the public that Julian was their long-lost son. I was hailed as a “little lucky star” who had serendipitously found her brother. 3 Julian was in a daze from the moment I dragged him home to the moment he was officially acknowledged. A ten-year-old boy, suddenly told he had wealthy biological parents and a sister. The guarded look on his exquisite little face slowly melted into a beautiful smile. He would sweetly call me “Sister,” hold my hand in the garden, catch butterflies for me, and comb my hair. “Riley, I’m so happy right now.” He became brighter and sunnier, while I grew increasingly silent. Julian’s name at the orphanage was Xiao Yang. Mr. Vanderbilt renamed him exactly as he had in the past life: Julian. In this life, every time the Vanderbilts called his name, my scalp tingled with phantom fear. Years later, they would cooperate with their son to drug me. My last memory before the imprisonment was Mrs. Vanderbilt’s sobbing voice: “Julian, she’s a child we raised for over ten years, you…” “Mother, you said you wanted to compensate me. I only want her.” I woke up from the nightmare again, gasping for air. It’s a society of laws. I couldn’t just eliminate Julian. As long as he was alive, someone would eventually realize he was the Vanderbilt heir. If his return was inevitable, then I had to be the one to find him early. I had to stop him from developing that anti-social personality. I made other preparations, too. I started wearing grey and black clothes. In middle school, I put on thick, oversized glasses. The Vanderbilts doted on their regained son, gradually ignoring my existence. So, I hid my beauty as I grew up. I became withdrawn and silent, making myself transparent. 4 During the summer before high school, I used a summer camp as an excuse to find my biological mother. Julian and I weren’t switched at birth in the traditional sense. My birth mother was a D-list actress who had been tricked into becoming a mistress by a scumbag. She got pregnant by accident. When she gave birth to me, her agent lied and told her it was a stillbirth, then casually abandoned me in the hospital nursery. Coincidentally, human traffickers disguised as cleaners stole the Vanderbilt’s baby boy (Julian) and tossed his ID tag onto me. Also coincidentally, Mrs. Vanderbilt had gone into premature labor and was transferred there without family around. No one paid attention to whether she had birthed a boy or a girl in the chaos. That’s how I ended up as the Vanderbilt heiress. It was also why they didn’t kick me out immediately—it wasn’t my fault. In my past life, before I could find my birth mother, I heard she committed suicide due to depression. All her assets were donated to charity. She was a good woman. She was the only person who could help me escape the Vanderbilts. I was terrified history would repeat itself. I was also terrified that Julian, like me, might suddenly awaken memories of the past. 5 Finding my birth mother wasn’t hard. She was now a C-list celebrity named Monica Sterling. Using my identity as the Vanderbilt daughter, I managed to meet her. I told her everything about the mix-up and dragged her to get a DNA test. … Monica held me and cried for hours. She said she often dreamed of a little girl crying for help, which was why she had been so devoted to charity—praying for her “deceased” daughter. Thankfully, in this life, we found each other. “Mom, this is money I’ve saved over the years. There’s about two million in the account.” Monica wiped her tears, surprised, and pushed the card back. “Riley, what is this?” “Mom, this isn’t Vanderbilt money. “I’ve been teaching myself finance. I’ve been working as an anonymous investment consultant for some small companies. I earned this. “I want to open a company in your name.” In my past life, before finding Julian, the Vanderbilts had groomed me as their heir. I had top-tier tutors teaching me business management alongside my regular schooling. When Julian returned in that timeline, I was eighteen and already known as an investment prodigy. In this life, I used the contacts in my memory to reach out to potential clients anonymously. After a few successful tips, they dropped their guard and paid high consulting fees. Everything was done via email, so no one knew I was just a fifteen-year-old kid. But anonymous consulting had a ceiling, and people were starting to investigate me. I needed a trustworthy adult to be my proxy. Reborn with knowledge of the future, it would be a waste not to do business. Monica trusted me completely. During the holiday, under my guidance, we established the company. Using my memories, I reconnected with a fraction of my old network. For now, it was enough. Soon, high school started. I said goodbye to my mother and returned to the Vanderbilt estate. It wasn’t time to show my hand yet. Even with my interference, the Vanderbilts were powerful. In this city, crushing me and Monica would be as easy as crushing an ant. I needed money, power, and time to grow.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386327”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my sugar daddy went bankrupt, he wanted to end it all. I pretended not to notice. “Babe, your birthday is next month. I saw this watch that would look perfect on you. It’s a shame it’s five million dollars. I don’t have enough money.” My sugar daddy’s eyes went red with emotion. “I can’t believe you remembered.” So, he went out to haul bricks, deliver takeout, and sell off his properties until he finally scraped together five million. I didn’t even look at the money. I spent it all immediately. Then I pouted, “That new bag that just dropped is so cute too. I really want it…” He completely gave up on dying. Now, the moment he opens his eyes every morning, all he thinks about is making money. 1 In my third year as Dominic’s trophy girlfriend, he seemed to go bankrupt. While Dominic was still away on a business trip, the house staff started clearing out one by one. Mrs. Higgins, the housekeeper I was somewhat close with, tried to give me a heads-up before she left. “Miss Meng, pack up whatever valuables you can and run while there’s still something to grab.” Did she think I didn’t want to run? But after three years of being pampered by Dominic, I was spoiled rotten. Sure, I was a “canary in a gilded cage,” but Dominic was sweet, generous, and surprisingly easygoing. I hadn’t suffered a day in three years; it was pure luxury. If I left him, where was I going to find another sucker willing to spend money on me and cater to my every whim? Maybe the rumors were false? I decided to hold out a little longer. 2 The day the bankruptcy news was confirmed, Dominic came back. His suit was wrinkled, and the dark circles under his eyes told me he hadn’t slept in days. He sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa. In his hand was a small fruit knife, glinting in the dim light. His expression was flat, his eyes dead. He twirled the knife in his fingers, aiming it toward his wrist. Everyone else had left. The house was dark. It took me a while to fumble for the light switch. Hearing the noise, Dominic turned his head, stunned. “Cece… you’re still here?” I pretended I didn’t understand what was happening, acting blind to the knife in his hand. I threw myself at him with my usual exaggerated affection. “Babe! You’re finally back! I missed you so much!” Habitually, my hand slid into his pocket. Empty. Nothing there. It seemed he really was broke. Dominic used to bring me expensive gifts after every trip. Realizing what I was looking for, a flash of desolate sadness crossed his eyes. “Cece, I’m sorry, I…” I cut him off, sitting in his lap with a look of regret, playing with his fingers. “Babe, your birthday is next month. I saw this Patek Philippe that fits you perfectly. But it’s five million dollars. I don’t have enough.” Interrupted, Dominic forgot his suicide speech. Once he processed my words, his eyes reddened. “My birthday… you remembered?” I gave him a coquettish look. “How could I forget your birthday?” He looked incredibly moved. His hands were trembling. “It’s just five million. I’ll transfer it to you right now…” Then he remembered. He was broke. I stared at him with wide, expectant eyes. Dominic wiped his eyes, his voice dropping to a whisper. “There’s a slight issue with liquidity. I’ll transfer it in a couple of days.” “Forget it. I’m going to handle this now.” He stood up, trying to leave. I pushed him back down. “Since you were gone, all the staff left for some reason. There’s no one to cook.” Dominic’s face looked terrible. He clenched his fists, then relaxed them. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.” He took off his jacket and headed to the kitchen. “I’ll make dinner right now.” There were still ingredients in the fridge. Dominic put on an apron and got to work. I hadn’t seen him in two weeks. He looked thinner, but his body was still top-tier—broad chest, tight ass. After eating so well with Dominic, how could I ever settle for another man? Sob. I was trapped. 3 Dominic learned to cook while studying abroad. It wasn’t gourmet, but it wasn’t bad. Luckily, I wasn’t just hungry for food. The real feast was later. After eating, Dominic tried to leave again. I dragged him straight to the bedroom. “Babe, you’re acting so weird since you got back. Did something happen?” Dominic’s eyes flickered. His resistance weakened. “No, I just want to sort out the funds quickly.” I traced circles on his chest, my voice dripping with grievance. “Work again? Don’t you miss me after being gone so long?” My leg hooked around his waist. His Adam’s apple bobbed. I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I kissed him. I needed to get my fill first. Halfway through, Dominic hugged me tightly, choking back a sob, looking fragile. “Cece, you’re so good to me.” I quickly covered his mouth. Okay, stop talking. You’re making me feel guilty. 4 When I woke up, Dominic was gone. Probably out looking for work. I took my time getting ready. Breakfast was already made and sitting on the table. After eating, I was a bit stuffed, so I walked around the garden. My best friend texted me a string of exclamation marks. “I feel like I’m hallucinating. Why does my delivery guy look exactly like your man?” Attached was a blurry, abstract paparazzi-style photo. I clicked it open and zoomed in. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. He’s 6’2″, but she managed to make him look 4’11”. Despite the terrible angle, I recognized Dominic instantly. He used to be a CEO. How did he fall this far? I asked around in my circle. Turns out someone was deliberately sabotaging him. His resume was being thrown in the trash everywhere he applied. Damn it. My heart actually hurt for him. Truth be told, I had assets. Dominic had been generous over the years, and since I only love money, I’d converted all his gifts into cold, hard cash. Worst case scenario, we swap roles. I’ll keep him. It’s too cruel to watch him like this. When Dominic came back, I stopped him. “Babe, maybe we should go live in my hometown for a while.” Visibly relieved, he nodded. “Okay.” With his agreement, I started packing. Clothes, shoes—all essentials. This bag is worth $20k, this one $50k. They’re basically money. Gotta take them. The jewelry Dominic bought me at auctions? Expensive. Packing that. I filled several huge suitcases. Looking at the pile of luggage, I realized Dominic was being too quiet. I went to find him. He was sitting on the sofa, motionless. Something felt off. “Why aren’t you packing?” He finally reacted. “I don’t have much. Just some toiletries.” He casually threw a few things into a backpack. That night, Dominic went to sleep early. He hugged the blanket, his brow relaxed, sleeping peacefully. It made my heart soft. If only I hadn’t seen the drafted text on his phone: I liquidated everything under my name. It’s exactly five million. Cece, take the money and live a good life. And the bottle of sleeping pills hidden in the back of his nightstand. 5 The next day, Dominic slept in, which was rare. When he got up, he seemed energetic. He put on a suit, looking like he was going on a long trip. “Cece, I transferred the five million to your account.” “I have to go on a business trip. I might be gone for a month. Go back to your hometown first. I’ll find you there.” As he was putting on his shoes, I pretended to just see the notification. I didn’t even blink. I spent it all immediately. Dominic, who saw everything, froze in place. I put down my phone, looking innocent. “Babe, what’s wrong? You look pale.” “Are you going on a trip? Oh, look! That new limited-edition bag is so pretty too. I really want it…” You want to die behind my back? Earn me another hundred million first. The alarm I had set beforehand went off. Dominic forced a smile and answered it. “The trip is canceled? Okay, I understand.” I saw the despair beneath his blank expression. According to my character setting, I should be comforting him right now. Being the understanding girlfriend. But I’ve gone dark side. I ignored his pain and shoved my phone screen in his face. “Babe, look! Should I get this pattern or that one? They’re both so cute. I can’t choose.” Before the bankruptcy, Dominic wouldn’t have even looked up. He would’ve just said, “Buy both.” Now, he secretly pinched his thigh to stay conscious. “The blue one.” I pouted. “But the pink one is cute too.” He quickly pivoted. “Then buy the pink one.” I looked down, twiddling my fingers. “But the blue one is also nice. What do I do, Babe? I love them both.” It took him a long time to squeeze the words out of his throat. “Then buy both.” After saying it, he fled toward the door. “I can’t talk right now. I’m going to be late for work. Bye.” His back looked aged and weary. For a moment, I wondered if his desire to strangle me outweighed his desire to kill himself. After Dominic left, I looked at my packed bags and started unpacking. Guess we aren’t going to my hometown anytime soon.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386326”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I saved my ex-boyfriend’s daughter in a car accident, but I lost my own life in the process. When he was sorting through my belongings, he accidentally found my diary. In the diary, he loved me deeply. He remembered every old scar on my body. To make up for my childhood regrets, he stood in the freezing cold on Christmas Day, fighting a high fever, just to build me a snowman. In the diary, we never broke up. We got married. Our life was stable, sweet, and full of love. It was a story that didn’t exist in his memory. It was a love buried deep, one he never knew existed. 1 Ethan’s daughter was saved in the crash. The person who saved her, however, didn’t make it. His wife held their daughter tightly, her face a mask of terror and relief. Ethan, however, was staring at the woman surrounded by the crowd. She was thin—too thin. Her hair was plastered messily across her face, obscuring her features. Someone in the crowd whispered, “That car was speeding like crazy. If that woman hadn’t rushed out and pushed the little girl away, she would have been…” His wife covered their daughter’s eyes, shielding her from the bloody scene. Ethan felt a strange, nagging familiarity. It took him a long moment before a hazy memory surfaced. This woman looked like his ex-girlfriend. Her name was… Chloe. The ambulance arrived quickly, taking both the woman and his daughter. His daughter, Lily, was lucky. Aside from a few scrapes, she was physically fine, though traumatized, refusing to leave her mother’s arms. The woman was indeed Chloe. The police told him she didn’t seem to have any family. No one came to identify the body. In her phone contacts, under “Emergency Contact,” there was only his number. Ethan was surprised. In his memory, they had only dated for two weeks, five years ago. Chloe had grown cold toward him quickly and eventually initiated a very rational, mutual breakup. They hadn’t been deep in love, so he hadn’t dwelt on it. But that was five years ago. He couldn’t believe Chloe still had his number. 2 Regardless of their past, Chloe had died saving his daughter. He was grateful. Upon learning she had no other kin, he volunteered to handle her funeral arrangements. A few days later, her landlord contacted him to clear out her apartment. He agreed. Surprisingly, Chloe’s apartment wasn’t far from his own, yet he had never run into her. She lived alone. The place was small but decorated with a warm touch. Life is unpredictable. He never imagined that seeing her again after all these years would be under such tragic circumstances. Chloe lived simply. There wasn’t much to pack. Halfway through clearing a drawer, he found a large stash of medication. He frowned and looked up the name on one of the bottles. Erlotinib. A targeted therapy drug used for cancer treatment. Chloe was sick? Underneath the pile of pill bottles, he found a thick, leather-bound notebook. He opened it. It was her diary. As an outsider, he knew he shouldn’t pry into the privacy of the deceased. But looking at the array of medicine bottles, the police officer’s words echoed in his ears: She has no family… only your number. Suddenly, he desperately wanted to know how she had lived these past few years. 3 Ethan went to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, returned to the desk, and opened the diary. The entries were sporadic at first. He gathered that her childhood and adolescence had been rough. Chloe once had a happy family, but her father died in a factory accident when she was five—without compensation. Her mother fell into a deep depression and passed away early. She worked her way through college and stumbled into adulthood. Despite it all, she was optimistic. The tone wasn’t negative. The entries stopped for a long time, likely due to work. When they resumed, his name appeared. July 6, 2018 – Rainy I must be exhausted lately. I fell asleep waiting at the bus stop. I woke up shivering. There was a guy standing in front of me, holding an umbrella. I realized it was pouring rain—a total downpour. No wonder it was so cold. The guy saw I was awake but didn’t speak. I jumped up, confused, thinking I’d hogged the bench too long. Only then did I realize the rain was coming in sideways. The shelter didn’t stop anything. I realized belatedly that he was blocking the rain for me. Sure enough, the back of his shirt and pants were soaked through. It was dark fabric, so it wasn’t obvious at first. I thanked him profusely. He just shook his head and said, “You look tired.” Then, something embarrassing happened. My period started early. I stained the bench and my jeans. I wanted to die of shame. Luckily, his bus arrived. Before he got on, he took off his long coat and handed it to me. “This is long enough. It should cover it.” I tried to refuse, of course. He just smiled. “You can return it if we ever meet again.” Then he got on the bus. Writing this now, my heart is pounding. Chloe, look. He really didn’t recognize you. July 10, 2018 – Sunny My new neighbor is him. We bumped into each other at the elevator while taking out the trash. He clearly recognized me this time. He froze for two seconds, then smiled. My spine stiffened. I blurted out, “I… I washed your coat. I’ll bring it over.” So awkward. He smiled and said, “Okay.” He told me his name is Ethan. In my heart, I replied: I know. I know your name is Ethan. July 11, 2018 I regret returning the coat. Now what excuse do I have to talk to him? July 15, 2018 – Sunny It’s the weekend. I “accidentally” bumped into Ethan walking his dog when I went to take out the trash (I totally timed it). He sniffed the air and said, “Did you cook? It smells amazing.” I nodded, eyeing the takeout bag in his hand. “I made too much. Do you want to try some?” He looked hopeful but asked politely, “Is it convenient?” I nodded. “Super convenient.” He paused, then smiled. Chloe, you are so much braver than you were seven years ago. July 19, 2018 – Rainy Today is my birthday. No friends in this city, colleagues are just acquaintances. I was going to spend it alone. I ordered a small cake. When I opened the door to get the delivery, Ethan was coming out. He saw the cake and asked if it was my birthday. I nodded. He paused and asked if I was celebrating alone. I nodded again. Then… the elevator arrived, and he went down to dump his trash. Sigh. I was about to light the candle when the doorbell rang. Ethan was standing there with bags of groceries, smiling. “You treated me last time. Let me cook for you this time.” I was in a daze until he put on my apron. The food was delicious. Especially the beer duck. He put the candles on the cake and wished me a happy birthday so gently. Ethan, I was really happy today. Thank you. 4 Buried memories slowly sharpened in Ethan’s mind. He had always thought the bus stop was their first meeting. But according to Chloe, she knew him long before that. Yet he had no memory of it. The mystery grew, urging him to turn the page. August 1, 2018 – Sunny My feelings are complicated. Ethan is now my boyfriend. We were grocery shopping when he suddenly asked, “What are we? Just food buddies?” I laughed and said, “I guess so.” Then he asked if I wanted to be with him. I said, “Be with you to do what?” He looked at me, exasperated. “To date. To be a couple.” I froze. It felt like winning the lottery. When I didn’t answer, he stopped walking and looked at me. I thought about it, and I said yes. He seemed relieved. August 5, 2018 – Sunny I gave him a bento box for lunch again. He said I’m too good to him, that it makes him feel guilty. Compared to what he did for me, this is nothing. He doesn’t understand. He is the only person in the world qualified to accept my kindness. August 12, 2018 I’m sick. The flu, I think. Took the day off. I feel terrible. Ethan is on a business trip. I didn’t tell him; I didn’t want to distract him. On the phone, he asked why my voice was raspy. I said I slept poorly. He asked, “Why are you coughing?” I lied, “Choked on water.” He just said “Oh” and went silent. The next morning, he was at my door. He flew back. He made me porridge and soup. He propped me up with pillows because he remembered my back hurts when I sit too long. Being sick made me weak. I started crying into the soup. He panicked, rubbing my back, asking if my old waist injury was flaring up. He said, “I brought patches and painkillers. I was going to take you to a specialist when I got back.” I only mentioned my back pain once. He remembered. I cried harder. “You’re so good to me.” He laughed. “This counts as good?” No. It’s so much more than that. Being with him… at first, I just wanted to repay him. I was happy just to do that. But now, I’m the one getting greedy for happiness. August 27, 2018 – Cloudy Company sent me out of state to sign a contract. Six hours driving. I told Ethan I’d stay the night. But the landlord texted: Power outage in our complex. Won’t be fixed until 2 AM. Ethan… he’s actually terrified of the dark. And ghosts. I finished the contract and drove back like a maniac. Got there at 9 PM. I used my key. The apartment was pitch black. I thought he was asleep. I walked in and bumped right into a wall of muscle. He grabbed my arm, voice shaking. “Chloe?” I said yes. He exhaled a long breath. His hands were ice cold. “Trying to scare me?” he asked. I denied it. He hugged me tight, punishing me, and pulled me to the bed. I felt something in his hand. A small fabric pouch. I asked what it was. He said it was a protective charm his mom got him. He’d been squeezing it so hard it was damp with sweat. I laughed at him. He pouted and said he felt like the room was full of people. I suddenly remembered. Ethan is afraid of the dark, yet he once stood in the freezing dark of winter to keep a stranger safe for hours. He has always been a good man. In the dark, Ethan became very… active. I kind of hope the power never comes back on.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386325”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel