At my father’s funeral, my fiancé proposed to my father’s illegitimate daughter, projecting a video of their passionate affair for all to see. I became a laughingstock, a disgrace to the city’s entire elite circle. In the midst of my fury, my fiancé’s older brother, Sebastian Beaumont, appeared. He had them both removed from the grounds, then knelt before me on one knee. He proposed, promising to be my rock, to shield me from the world. I said yes. Three years after my father passed, just one week before our wedding, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and his lawyer. “Mr. Beaumont, there are other ways to acquire the Ashford assets. Is it not too risky to marry Adelaide Ashford just to reclaim her inheritance for Miss Isla? Why sacrifice yourself?” “Marriage is the only way Adelaide will let her guard down. All Isla wants is to inherit the Ashford legacy rightfully. It’s a small price to pay. For her, I’d do anything.” So, what I thought was my salvation was just an elaborate trap. The marriage I had anticipated for three years was just another tomb. If that’s what they wanted, then I would be the one to give it to them. 1 In the study, Sebastian was smiling at a stack of share transfer agreements, his expression one of pure devotion. “Mrs. Ashford is gravely ill. Isla will certainly want her to be at the wedding before she passes. Once she’s gone, the Ashford family will crumble. That’s when Adelaide will beg for my help, and that will be my moment to step in.” “Are all the agreements ready? There can be no mistakes. I need the entire Ashford Corporation in my hands. Once I’ve cleared all the obstacles, I’ll hand the company over to Isla.” The lawyer beside him looked at the mountain of paperwork, a flicker of pity in his eyes. “Isla is just the illegitimate daughter. Isn’t this too cruel to Miss Ashford? She has fallen in love with you over these three years. If she finds out you’re only marrying her to seize the family business for her half-sister, you two—” Sebastian cut him off, his voice cold. “Enough. I’ve told you, Isla is the second daughter of the Ashford family. If I hear you call her an illegitimate daughter again, you’re fired.” He continued, “Marrying Adelaide is also a form of compensation. Without the Ashford fortune, she’ll still have me. Her life won’t be difficult.” “My little brother… he’s always liked to compete with me for everything. Since Isla chose him, I’ll pave the way for them. As long as they’re happy, I don’t care what happens to me.” The lawyer sighed and nodded reluctantly. “Very well. I’ll double-check the agreements. I just hope… you don’t regret this.” “Oh, and that video you had me play at the funeral three years ago? Remember to delete it. Don’t let Miss Ashford find out.” Footsteps approached. I fled back to my room in a daze. The hot tea in my hands sloshed over my skin, but a profound chill seeped into my bones, colder than any ice. So, the video at my father’s funeral wasn’t my fiancé, Finn’s, doing at all. It was orchestrated by his brother, the man who had masqueraded as my savior. When Finn abandoned me, making me a public spectacle at my own father’s memorial, Sebastian’s arrival wasn’t to bring me happiness. It was to drive the final knife in. I remembered my mother, on her sickbed, entrusting me to him. He had beaten his chest, swearing to protect me. What a performance. All these years, he’d “helped” me manage my company, but it was all part of his scheme to hand it to Isla on a silver platter. And I, like a fool, had paraded his pathetic, feigned affection everywhere, boasting about my happiness. How utterly laughable. The front door clicked shut; the lawyer had left. Sebastian rushed to my room, cupping my face in his hands and pressing a kiss to my forehead. His eyes, hazy with drink, were filled with a manufactured concern. “Why are you just standing here in the doorway?” “It’s nothing. I was going to bring you some tea, but I spilled it.” “You should let the maids handle that. You’re already exhausted from taking care of your mother at the hospital. I’d be heartbroken if you wore yourself out.” With that, he kissed my lips. His touch was as gentle and loving as it had always been. But I couldn’t feel any warmth from him anymore. To think a person could go to such lengths for someone else. As I closed my eyes, a tear escaped and slid down my cheek. I helped him to the bed and tucked him in. He was already drunk and fell asleep quickly. I sat on the edge of the bed and quietly picked up his phone. I only had to try the password once. It unlocked immediately. It was my sister Isla’s birthday. I opened his chat with her. The screen was a dense, unending scroll of confidential company files. He had been sending them since the day my father died three years ago, without missing a single day. Every project he oversaw, he sent the files to Isla for her to “familiarize” herself. Every deal he closed, he sent her the client information to pave her way. He’d even had the company transfer contracts drafted three years ago, just waiting for my mother to die so I would hand over control to him. My hand trembled as I opened his private photo album. Every single picture was of Isla smiling. Isla attending events as the wife of the younger Mr. Beaumont. Isla celebrating a successful project with Finn. Finn looked so much like his brother; you could almost mistake him for Sebastian in the photos. There were also records of countless jewelry purchases from high-end auctions. He bought them all in his name, as her brother-in-law, and sent them to her as “gifts from an elder.” His hidden love was both subtle and ostentatious, tucked into every detail. It was a dagger twisting in my heart. I recognized some of those jewelry brands. They were the cheap promotional items the auction houses handed out as freebies. He had given them to me, calling them “presents.” I let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh and stopped scrolling. I sent a single message to the company’s board members, calling for an emergency meeting in three days to announce my official takeover as CEO. It was time for him to repay the debt he had amassed over the last three years. I didn’t sleep a wink. At dawn, I went to wash up. A notification pinged from the work group chat on my phone. Sebastian saw it and his face paled with panic. “Adelaide? Since when are you interested in company business? Your mother isn’t well. Didn’t we agree I’d manage things for you? Don’t worry about it. If you get worn out, she’ll blame me for not taking good care of you.” I took the phone from his hand, a cool smile playing on my lips. “It’s nothing. I must have accidentally turned on notifications. I’ll turn it off.” “Don’t you have a meeting for that new project today? You should get going.” He didn’t question it further, visibly relieved. He pulled me into a lingering embrace. “Thank you for being so understanding, my love. I need to push these projects forward so we can focus on the wedding.” I said nothing, just looked down and silenced my phone. “On your way to the hospital, could you pick up the catering I ordered from the hotel? You’ve gotten so thin lately.” “Of course. I’ll bring some for Mom to try.” My mother had been in the hospital for a year. He had hired a team of professional nurses, claiming he didn’t want me to overwork myself. I once thought it was a sign of his love. Now I saw it for the dereliction it was. If he truly cared, how could he have only visited twice in an entire year? All her care and treatment were delegated to others. He had truly put in a monumental effort to keep me from bothering his precious Isla. This three-year charade was about to end. I rushed to the hospital. Before I even reached my mother’s room, I heard the nurses whispering in the hallway. “The Ashfords are one of the city’s top families, right? How come Mrs. Ashford has been here for a year and still hasn’t had surgery? When I changed her drip, she looked like she was fading fast. You’d think the family would be more concerned…” “Shh, don’t ask questions you shouldn’t. The Beaumonts gave the order. Even the hospital director has to keep quiet. It looks like they don’t want to save her, just drag it out. They swapped her actual medication for a glucose drip. She’s not going to make it.” “Probably won’t last another couple of days, right? This family is ruthless. All that money and they won’t even save one of their own…” Tears streamed down my face as I burst into my mother’s room. Her once healthy complexion had turned waxen and pale in just a few days. How had I, who saw her every day, not noticed until now? The monitors beside her bed were beeping frantically. Her breathing grew faint. Even on the brink of death, she was still thinking about my wedding. She gripped my hand, her voice barely a whisper. “Adelaide… I don’t think I’ll be able to see your wedding.” “Sebastian is a good man. After I’m gone, he’ll take care of you. Could you… could you call him for me? I want to say a few words to him…” I sobbed as I pulled the blanket over her. I ran out to find a doctor. But when the doctor came, he just shook his head helplessly. He said my mother’s condition had deteriorated too much, that her body was too weak for surgery now. He told me to start preparing for her funeral. Swallowing my rage, I drove to Sebastian’s office. Before I even entered, I heard Isla’s voice from inside. “Sebastian, you’ve helped me so much these past three years. But Mrs. Ashford is still alive. If you put me in charge of this project, Adelaide will surely be angry.” Sebastian’s voice was heavy with a sorrowful, repressed tone. “You’re my sister-in-law. It’s my duty to help you. Just sign it. You need to get used to the business sooner or later. As for Mrs. Ashford… she probably doesn’t have much time left. Don’t worry about her.” A flash of triumph crossed Isla’s eyes before she replaced it with a look of concern. “Mom’s not doing well? Then I’ll go see her at the hospital today. Even though she never acknowledged me as her daughter, I still want to earn her forgiveness.” I could no longer contain the fury burning in my chest. I threw the door open. “You can keep your fake sympathy. My mother doesn’t want to see you.” Panic flickered across Sebastian’s face. He shot up and came to me. “What are you doing here? Don’t misunderstand. I was just discussing the new project with Isla, that’s all. She was just speaking casually, don’t overthink it.” Isla stood up, waving at me with a smile. “Sister, long time no see.” I didn’t spare her another glance. I turned and walked away. Sebastian chased after me, desperately trying to explain. Looking at his frantic expression, I felt a wave of derision. He had humiliated me at my father’s funeral to clear a path for Isla. Now, he had my mother’s life on his hands. He had gotten everything he wanted. Who was this act for? “Don’t worry,” I said coolly. “I’m not so petty as to meddle in the Beaumont family business. I was on my way to the hospital and just stopped by to see you. Since you’re busy, I’ll be on my way.” He let out a sigh of relief and personally escorted me downstairs. On the way to the hospital, I got a call from the doctor. He told me my mother had just passed away. I slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt on the side of the road. Anger and despair churned within me. After a long struggle, I turned the car around and went back to the Ashford estate to pack up my mother’s belongings. I had just finished filling a box when Isla suddenly appeared before me. She kicked the box over with her foot. My mother’s keepsakes scattered across the floor. Her smile was wild and triumphant. “Adelaide, after all these years, you’re still as useless as ever. You couldn’t protect your mother, you can’t protect your family’s company, and even the two men you’ve loved have paved the way for me. You’re a joke!” A fire ignited in my chest. I couldn’t hold back any longer and slapped her across the face. I hadn’t used much force, but she went tumbling down the steps dramatically. The lunchbox she was holding clattered against her, its contents spilling all over her. I stood frozen, unable to process what had happened. Suddenly, a figure rushed past me and shoved me violently to the ground. Sebastian scooped Isla into his arms, his eyes blazing with fury as he looked at me. “What are you doing? Are you insane? Isla was just trying to bring your mother some soup out of kindness! Why would you attack her? She’s your sister!” His eyes were filled with a rage that completely eclipsed any trace of the love he once pretended to have. I smiled, a cold, sharp curve of my lips, and slowly got to my feet. “My sister? Does she deserve that title?” “Why did my mother’s health decline so suddenly? What was that video at the funeral all about? Sebastian, don’t you two owe me an explanation? What right do you have to question me?” He frowned, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “Your mother was already in poor health. I arranged for her hospitalization, and I was the one who deleted the video. What is there to explain? You already know all this.” “But none of that gives you the right to attack your sister!” “Adelaide, apologize! Or I will call the hospital right now and cancel all of your mother’s remaining treatments!” His shouting drew the attention of neighbors. This was a wealthy neighborhood, a hotspot for the city’s elite. I laughed, but tears streamed down my face against my will. “Cancel her treatments? Fine. Go ahead. I don’t need your fake kindness anymore. Not now, not ever!” As I spoke, Isla’s hand crept up to his shoulder. “Sister, no matter how angry you are, you can’t joke about Mom’s health!” “I know you blame me for the scene at the funeral, and I’m sorry. But I was only here today to apologize to her. I meant no harm. Why would you be so cruel to me?” she sobbed. “Sebastian, since my sister hates me so much, maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I don’t want to make things difficult for you…” My nails dug into my palms, drawing blood. Watching them walk away, wrapped in each other’s arms, I knew. We were finished. Three years of love turned to ash in that single moment. I took out my phone and sent him a message: The wedding is off. Five hours later, he finally replied with an explanation. “Isla is my sister-in-law, and many of the company’s projects are in her hands. Hurting her in public was bad for the Ashford family’s image. Asking you to apologize was just a strategic move, an act for outsiders. Don’t read too much into it.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “581058”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My best friend was a bohemian soul, a girl who claimed to breathe only for freedom. After getting pregnant by a billionaire CEO, she insisted on running away to hide the baby. I urged her to stay. Her tone was ice-cold. “I refuse to be a man’s plaything. Give me liberty, or give me death.” But she had no idea how brutal life was for a single mother. She didn’t know that in the real world, ruthless billionaires don’t drop to their knees to grovel for a runaway lover. In our last life, I couldn’t bear to see her suffer. I talked until my throat bled, convincing her to stay. The CEO didn’t hesitate to put a ring on her finger. Yet, even draped in diamonds, she still acted like a tragic bird in a gilded cage. She threw constant tantrums. She staged elaborate suicide attempts to test his love. Eventually, she set the mansion on fire. As the flames roared, she was carried out safely. I was the collateral damage left behind to burn. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day she decided to run away. 1 “Riley, stop trying to talk me out of it. I’ve made up my mind.” “I won’t be Victor’s little canary. There’s no freedom in that house.” “I’m going to Europe. I’ll raise this baby on my own.” Standing outside the private clinic, my best friend Daphne faced me. She looked down, gently resting a hand on her perfectly flat stomach. Her eyes were distant, carrying that signature aloofness she wore like a crown. The doctor had just confirmed she was three months pregnant. The father was my boss. She could have easily used this child to secure her place in high society. Instead, her very first instinct was to run. In my past life and this one, I could never wrap my head around her logic. Was a life of absolute luxury by a billionaire’s side really that terrible? Why was she so desperate to go starve in a foreign country? She was soft, incapable of heavy lifting, and completely unequipped for the real world. Surviving alone abroad would be a nightmare. More importantly, she had no passport, no visa, and couldn’t speak a word of a foreign language. Even buying groceries would be a struggle. In my last life, I laid all these harsh truths out for her. It only fueled her stubbornness. “I’ll find a way. I know people who can get me across the border unnoticed.” “Once I’m there, I’ll wash dishes. I’ll support myself.” “You care too much about money, Riley. You’ll never understand. Even if I die in the gutters of a foreign street, I will never be his caged pet. Give me liberty, or give me death!” Back then, my head throbbed watching her play the misunderstood heroine. I begged and pleaded until she finally agreed to stay with Victor Sinclair. Victor didn’t want the mother of his child to suffer any indignity. He married her immediately. After she gave birth, he even stepped back from his empire, spending months solely focused on her and the baby. To the outside world, she was living a fairy tale. But it was never enough for her. She spent her days weeping by the window, complaining to anyone who would listen that she had no freedom. When she got bored, she started playing with death. Slashing her wrists. Swallowing pills. Threatening to jump from the balcony. She was saved every single time. Until one evening, she insisted I cook her favorite meal. While I was in the third floor prep kitchen preparing her specialized dietary plan, she set the house ablaze. The rescue team arrived and pulled her out immediately. I was trapped. A burning beam from the ceiling collapsed, crushing my skull. I blacked out. Later, as a ghost hovering in the smoke filled air, I saw Daphne sitting safely on the grass, looking utterly bored with the world. When the firefighters asked if anyone else was inside, she kept her mouth shut. She stared blankly ahead as if she had no earthly tethers left. She knew exactly where I was. One word from her, and they would have rushed up to save me. But she said nothing. She just watched the crew spray water onto the inferno, layer by layer. By the time they found me, I was nothing but ash. Now, the smell of suffocating smoke still felt raw in my throat as I blinked and stared at her face. “Riley? Why aren’t you saying anything?” Daphne waved a hand in front of my eyes, waiting for my usual panicked response. I took a deep, shaky breath, forcing the violent tremors in my hands to stop. Since she loved freedom so much, fine. This time, I wouldn’t stand in her way. I looked her dead in the eye and spoke slowly. “It’s your life. You have to make your own choices. I can’t decide for you.” “I knew you wouldn’t understand… wait, what?” Daphne choked on her words. A flash of genuine shock broke through her icy facade. The self righteous speech she had prepared died in her throat. “You aren’t going to try and stop me?” I couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh. “Why would I waste my breath? You’re an adult. If you want to leave, who am I to tie you down?” Go ahead, Daphne. I really wanted to see how a girl who hadn’t even finished high school was going to conquer the world abroad. 2 “So, when are you leaving?” I asked. Victor was due back from his business trip in three days. If she didn’t run now, she’d miss her window. She tilted her chin up, her gaze drifting to the sky. “There is no rush. I need to make some preparations.” Daphne’s idea of “preparations” was packing up every single item she owned in the mansion. Well, almost everything. She deliberately left behind a few pieces of her most intimate lingerie. A silk nightgown tucked into the corner of his study. A lace bralette draped near the dressing room door. A delicate slip left in the private gym. Places where Victor’s hands would naturally graze. It was a calculated setup, designed to make him ache with longing every time he saw them. “I’ve sorted everything. I might have left a few things behind. Victor will probably just throw them away when he sees them.” She feigned complete indifference, shrugging her shoulders. Finally, the day before Victor’s return, Daphne headed to the docks. Her grand plan to go abroad was paying a shady fixer to sneak her onto an unregistered cargo ship. When I found out, I was speechless. She stood by the pier holding a tiny, vintage leather suitcase, wearing a pristine white floral dress, waving goodbye to me as the sea breeze caught her hair. It looked like a beautifully framed shot from a romance movie. A second later, a massive, sweaty dockworker shoved his way into the frame, glaring at her. “You’re wearing that fancy crap to squeeze into a shipping container? It smells like rotting fish and piss in there. A fragile little thing like you won’t last a day.” Daphne raised her chin even higher. Her voice was crystal clear. “For the sake of my soul’s freedom, physical hardship means nothing.” The worker rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. “Sneaking out on a freighter for freedom. Chick’s got rocks in her head.” He was right. By choosing this dark, illegal route, she was condemning herself to live like a rat in the shadows. But she clearly had no concept of the brutal reality awaiting her. Just before boarding, she played her final dramatic card. “Take this black card back to Victor for me. Make sure you tell him that a free spirit can never be bought with money…” Before she could finish her monologue, I snatched the sleek metal card right out of her fingers. “The ship is leaving. Text me if you have anything else to say.” Daphne’s hand froze mid air. She stared at her empty fingers, then up at me. Her expression cracked, looking genuinely bewildered for a split second. She definitely didn’t expect me to take the card so easily. In the past, terrified she would starve, I would have begged her to keep it. She forced a stiff smile. “I guess… I really am leaving now.” She kept looking back over her shoulder as she walked up the ramp. I ignored her theatrical lingering. I turned on my heel and walked away fast, terrified she might actually change her mind and chase after me. The next day, Victor returned from his trip. I prepared his customized nutritional dinner, just like always. Casually, I mentioned that Daphne had packed up and left. Victor sliced his steak. His expression didn’t even flicker. In my previous life, once he knew about the pregnancy, he instantly dragged her to meet his parents and gave her his name. This time, hearing she had abandoned him, he didn’t lift a finger to chase her. That was Victor Sinclair. If you were his woman, he would drown you in wealth and luxury. But the moment you decided to walk away, he wouldn’t even blink. As his private nutritionist for the past five years, I knew exactly how he operated. Daphne was just too blind to see it. 3 The intimate items Daphne left behind were found by the housekeeper within two days. They went straight into the trash. The limited edition silk slip was the only exception. The housekeeper was too afraid to toss something so expensive and brought it to Victor for instructions. Victor was reviewing a stack of contracts. He didn’t even look up. “If it’s garbage, throw it out.” There was zero lingering affection. Zero heartache. Daphne’s pathetic little mind games were tossed out with yesterday’s trash. A few days later, a new face appeared at the estate. Her name was Stella. She was vibrant, radiant, and the exact opposite of Daphne. She loved to talk. Wherever Victor went, she followed, chattering away with a bright smile. And Victor, a man notoriously obsessed with absolute silence, never once looked annoyed. He never had this much patience with Daphne in my last life. I couldn’t help but root for them. That was when Daphne made her first overseas call. “Riley, how is Victor holding up? Is he going crazy looking for me?” “You have to swear you won’t tell him where I am. Promise me.” I glanced toward the living room, where Victor was chuckling at something Stella said. I decided to be honest. “You don’t need to worry. He’s busy entertaining a new woman. He doesn’t have time to look for you.” Dead silence on the other end. Then, a soft, dismissive scoff. “Heh. I’ve only been gone a week, and he’s already desperately searching for a replacement?” Before I could speak, she kept going. “Does she look like me? Is it the eyes? Or the way she smiles?” “Victor is just trying to distract himself. Give it three days. He’ll be sick of her.” I didn’t have the energy to argue. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.” Satisfied, she hung up. But three days passed, and then another three. Stella was still practically living at the mansion. Even the heavy curtains in the master suite were swapped out for a bright, sunny fabric she preferred. Every last trace of Daphne was being systematically scrubbed clean, replaced by vibrant colors. When Daphne called again, I was preparing afternoon tea for Victor and Stella. Stella’s infectious laughter echoed clearly through the phone’s receiver. Daphne paused. Her voice carried a faint, barely disguised edge of panic. “That replacement is still there?” My stomach tightened. Was Daphne going to change her mind and come back to fight for her spot? “Victor is so childish. Does he really think parading another woman around will force me back?” “I am a wild hawk. I belong to the sky. I won’t clip my own wings just to orbit a man like those pathetic girls.” Exhale. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. For a second there, I thought she had actually grown a brain. Luckily, she was still choking on her own ego. I relaxed completely. I had zero intention of telling her that Stella wasn’t a replacement at all. She was Victor’s first love. I had only just found out myself. Victor and Stella had dated in college but were forced apart because their family backgrounds didn’t match at the time. Stella was sent abroad to study by the Sinclair family. They had been separated for seven years. In the previous life, by the time Stella returned, Victor was already married to Daphne. Because of his sense of duty, he kept his distance. Stella, having fierce boundaries of her own, never crossed the line. There wasn’t a hint of infidelity. But this time, there was no Daphne in the way. I knew it was only a matter of time before they rekindled the flame. Blissfully unaware, Daphne remained convinced that Victor couldn’t breathe without her. Her tone shifted back to that annoying, airy arrogance. “Tell that poor girl not to get her hopes up.” “I don’t mean any harm. As a fellow woman, I just pity her. What’s the point of being someone’s shadow? She should leave before she gets her heart broken.” 4 I reached out to Brooke, an old friend who ran a restaurant in Europe, and asked her to keep tabs on Daphne. Daphne was an undocumented immigrant with no working papers. With her complete lack of skills, the only job she could possibly land was scrubbing dishes in an underground kitchen. The expat community is small. As long as Daphne walked into a restaurant in that district, word would reach me. Until Victor and Stella were officially locked in, I needed to make sure Daphne stayed far, far away. For the next few days, Daphne didn’t call. Instead, she was busy curating her social media feed, posting aesthetic collages of her new European life. She always idolized everything foreign, convinced the air overseas was somehow purer. Mutual friends flooded the comments with envy. [Wow! Did you move abroad for work?] [Just starting a new chapter, nothing major.] [What kind of work?] [Oh, just diving into the culinary industry.] [That’s amazing! You must be managing a high end bistro! I have to visit you!] [Stop, it’s just a little passion project.] She deflected the questions flawlessly, keeping up her humble, artsy persona. But reading those replies now, the suffocating stench of her vanity was overwhelming. Not long after, Brooke called with an update. She sounded entirely baffled. “Riley, did you really grow up in the same foster home as this girl?” “She is completely useless. She shatters plates, leaves grease on the pans, and complains about the water ruining her hands. She’s been fired from three different places in under a month.” “No one in the district wants to hire her anymore.” Exactly as expected. We did grow up in the foster system together, but she always acted like a deposed princess. She refused to lift a finger, playing the delicate flower while I fought our battles and handled the dirty work. Her entire life had been shielded from consequence. She was basically a spoiled aristocrat without the trust fund. That was why I fought so hard to stop her in our last life. I knew she couldn’t handle the grind. Without Victor’s money and my constant care, she would drown. And here she was, sinking fast. Brooke had a soft heart. She couldn’t stomach the thought of a pregnant woman sleeping on the streets, so she offered Daphne a lifeline. “I took her in as a waitress. She’s over six months pregnant. If I don’t give her a shot, she won’t survive the winter here.” Waitressing was miles better than slaving away in a dish pit, and she could actually earn tips. I didn’t object, but I gave Brooke a strict warning. “Do not tell her we know each other.” Dying and coming back to life had opened my eyes. Daphne was a parasite who only drained the people closest to her. If she knew Brooke was my friend, she would milk her dry. Meanwhile, back at the estate, Victor and Stella’s romance was brewing. But it was agonizingly slow. It had been over a month, and they were still in the hand holding phase. Neither wanted to cross the line first. If they weren’t in a rush, I was! So, on a perfectly quiet evening, I orchestrated a breathtakingly romantic candlelight dinner on the terrace. Maybe it was the expensive vintage wine. Maybe the moonlight was just right. That night, Stella pulled Victor into the master bedroom by his tie, and the door didn’t open until late the next morning. The ship had finally sailed!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “581057”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My husband is a man of great prestige, a distinguished professor of medicine. When our tour bus flipped, his first instinct was to shield the young female student sitting in the row ahead of us. I was left behind, critically injured, clinging to life. When I finally woke up, he was tending to me while correcting his favorite student’s research paper. “Don’t overthink it, Riley. I just appreciate her talent.” He didn’t even look up. “Abigail just published three international papers; she has a brilliant future ahead of her. She was the one who performed your surgery. It was flawless.” Mentioning his star pupil, his eyes—usually cold and detached—warmed with pride. He had no idea. Because just a moment ago, the System had told me: his “brilliant” student had left a fatal, rotting surgical sponge inside my abdomen. 1 The System warned me about the sponge while Ross was peeling an apple for me. “Thank god we caught it early,” the System sighed. “If you have a re-operation now, you’ll survive. It’ll just be a bit painful.” “If you don’t want to go through another surgery, you could also choose to reload your save to before the accident.” I didn’t answer immediately. I watched silently as the silver fruit knife danced between his elegant, long fingers. I wasn’t allowed to eat yet, and my cravings were driving me mad. Ross would peel apple after apple from the basket, holding them up for me to smell, endlessly patient. The hospital had assigned me a private nurse, but Ross had refused her. “Who else could tolerate your temper besides me?” He smiled, placing a piece of apple under my nose. The sweet, crisp scent drifted into my lungs. I felt a dull ache deep in my gut. I frowned. “Did the surgeon who operated on me not perform a post-op check?” For safety, that should have been standard procedure. Ross’s long, thick lashes paused. “I had that step skipped.” I blinked. “Why?” He looked at me, his eyes filled with a sudden, sharp pity. “Post-op checks prolong the anesthesia. You’re weak; the faster the surgery ends, the better.” “Besides, your surgery was performed by Abigail. She’s meticulous. She wouldn’t make a low-level mistake like that.” 2 Right. Abigail. Ross’s favorite doctoral candidate. She had immense talent and stellar grades. For the past few years, no matter what surgery Ross performed, he dragged her along. They were a fixture together, often joked about in the department as the “Power Duo.” Abigail had assisted in several major operations, and they had all gone smoothly. But I still found it laughable. “Ross, for a life-or-death major surgery, you dared to let a student handle it alone?” I knew that as the hospital’s most authoritative surgeon and a national professor, he had the power to do that, even if it bent the rules. “What if she messed up? What if I died? Did you think about that at all?” He chuckled, as if I’d said something absurd. “How could I ever let you die?” He flicked my nose gently. “Do you think I’ve spent all these years in clinical research just to watch you fade away? I want us to grow old together.” “I told you, Abigail is a one-in-a-million surgical genius. The fact remains, she didn’t disappoint me. She performed your surgery perfectly.” His tone was absolute, laced with a faint, maddening arrogance. True. That surgery had made Abigail famous overnight. She had pulled me back from the gates of hell in record time. The news had even reported on it, praising Abigail as the “Rising Star of Surgery.” Ross was hailed as the visionary mentor, and his reputation reached even higher heights. After hesitating, I gripped his hand. “Please, just perform a check yourself. Just call it a follow-up exam.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Ross stood up, and the warmth in his eyes hardened into frost. “Surgeries aren’t just something you do for fun.” He softened his tone a moment later. “Do you trust me so little? Why would I ever want you to suffer through another operation?” I stared at him. “But Abigail…” He cut me off firmly. “She is my student. I won’t allow anyone to question her skill. The surgery she performed is flawless.” I looked at him quietly. Is that right? A second later, the icy System voice chimed in my head: Detected: Host’s impending death. Do you wish to reload now? I shook my head. “Why not?” the System asked, confused. “Are you just giving up because of him?” “I’m not that stupid.” I asked coldly, “If I die, I still have a three-day window to reload, right?” “That’s correct.” I laughed softly. “Then schedule the reload for after I die.” 3 It was funny. I actually considered reloading to before the accident. The reason was simple: the day before the accident, I had found out I was three weeks pregnant. That night, Ross had been in the operating theater until dawn. I had called him, bursting with joy, but Abigail had answered. “Professor Ross is teaching me a surgery; he’s asleep in the breakroom.” I froze. “Wake him up. I have something important to tell him…” Abigail cut me off without a shred of hesitation. “He said before he went to sleep that no one is allowed to disturb him, unless it’s about my work.” Her tone was indignant. “He’s been working all day. Even if you’re his wife, shouldn’t you be a bit more considerate?” I was stunned, then let out a cold laugh. “That’s not your place to say.” Before she could react, I hung up. I’d always had trouble conceiving. But Ross loved children, always rambling on about wanting a daughter. So, this child was a miracle. When the crash happened, my first instinct was to protect my stomach. But it was too late. The baby had been torn away along with my broken flesh. Ross still didn’t know the child had ever existed. Two weeks post-op, I finally saw my stitched-up stomach. A jagged, brownish scar ran across my pale skin, sewn together with sloppy, uneven stitches. It looked like a withered branch—hideous and haunting. I looked down, my eyes stinging. Ross walked over, covering me up with a practiced, casual air, stroking my hair. “Don’t cry. To me, no one is more beautiful than you.” He teased me deliberately. “When we have our kids later, you’ll have a scar anyway. You wouldn’t skip out on having our children just to stay pretty, would you?” I pushed him away. “Abigail stitched my stomach like this. As a patient, don’t I have the right to file a complaint?” Ross’s face darkened. He knew his student’s skill. Under normal circumstances, Abigail would never stitch a wound so poorly. Unless she did it on purpose. “Great things are not accomplished by dwelling on small details,” Ross said coldly after a pause. “An occasional lapse in judgment from a genius like Abigail is… expected.” “Abigail is the most talented student I’ve taken in years. I cannot watch her potential be destroyed.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead, his tone dripping with fake warmth. “Be a good girl. Just let it go.” 4 Ross started trying to win me back. He’d bring a different kind of porridge every day, feeding me from a thermos. I’d take a few bites in front of him, and the moment he wasn’t looking, I’d dump it out in disgust. One day, he caught me in the act. He shook his head, sighing, and wiped my stained fingers. “You’ve been dumping it out for days. Still not over it?” So, he had known all along. I pulled my hand away, expressionless. “If you have time, go guide your genius student. The nurse can take care of me.” “You’re just saying things to hurt me.” Ross sighed, sounding incredibly weary. “You’re my wife. How could I let a stranger take care of you?” His voice was so tender, it felt like drowning. For a fleeting second, I felt like I was back at the beginning of our marriage. When I first joined his university as a lecturer, some of the rowdier students had tripped me, causing a severe sprain. When Ross heard, he stormed into the faculty office and beat those students to a pulp. Several ended up in the hospital, and he faced a disciplinary board. In the hospital room, Ross was bruised and swollen. I had been heartbroken, scolding him for being reckless. He just laughed, a carefree, stupid grin. “You’re my wife. Who else is going to protect you if I don’t?” … Back in the present, I whispered to him, “This is the final check-up before I’m discharged. Please, stay with me.” Ross smirked, nuzzling my cheek. “That’s more like it.” As I was being pushed into the imaging room, he held my hand tightly. But a second later, his phone rang. He answered, his voice dropping. “The lab door is locked? It’s so late. You’re in there alone?” Soft, muffled sobs drifted from the other end. He let go of my hand and strode toward the exit. “Don’t be afraid. I’m coming right over.” His shadow vanished around the corner, decisive and cold. He never once looked back. I lowered my eyes and shook my head at the nurse. “It’s fine. Continue.” This was the last chance to find the sponge. He hadn’t treasured it. I asked the System, “What is my time of death?” After a moment, the System provided a crisp answer: “Three weeks from now.” Perfect. It would be our seventh wedding anniversary. I’d have a surprise waiting for him then. 5 The day before my discharge, Abigail came to visit. She was dressed to kill, wearing a gorgeous dress that suggested Ross had been incredibly generous with her—yearly scholarships and project funding. Over the years, he’d essentially turned her into a high-fashion princess. Abigail placed a bouquet on my bedside table. “The Professor and I picked this out together. I hope you like it.” The scent hit me instantly, and I began to cough violently. The rotting sponge rubbed against my insides, making my very soul ache. She had chosen a bouquet of blooming Eustoma. And Ross knew I was allergic to Eustoma. Noticing my glare, he spoke calmly, explaining, “I warned her, but she loves Eustoma. She insisted on buying it, so I let her have her way.” “She’s just a kid who likes fancy flowers. The sentiment is what matters.” He whispered in my ear, “I’ll throw them out once she leaves.” Abigail broke into a smile, tears in her eyes. “The Professor always spoils me.” Ross sighed with fake annoyance, his gaze brimming with indulgence. “What can I do? I’m stuck with a silly student like you.” I choked on my breath, reaching out to push the vase further away. I accidentally knocked it over. Abigail’s eyes reddened; she knelt to pick up the flowers. A second later, she stumbled, her knees landing squarely on the jagged ceramic shards. Ross rushed over, scooping her up and carrying her to an empty hospital bed. He turned to look at me, his expression devoid of emotion, filled with terrifying rage. “Even if you don’t like Abigail, you don’t have to humiliate her like that.” “She’s just a student. Would it kill you to show a little restraint?” I covered my stomach, choking, and managed to whisper, “It hurts…” Ross cut me off coldly. “Stop acting. You’ve been recovered for ages.” When he said it, he seemed to realize he’d slipped up, biting his lip uncomfortably. “What I meant was… your body isn’t as weak as you think…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “581056”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my family went bankrupt, my father’s wealthy friend took me into the Sinclair estate. Because of this, the two Sinclair daughters entangled themselves in my life for eighteen long years. Their fierce pursuit and blatant favoritism toward me left everyone in our circle both shocked and envious. Yet, when I finally expressed my desire to settle down and start a family, both of them rejected me outright. The older sister, Victoria, adjusted her designer blazer and said she had to put her empire first and had no room for marriage. The younger sister, Audrey, laughed and told me she was still young and wanted to enjoy her freedom. She even added that fleeting romances should never be taken too seriously. But the very next day, at my own birthday gala, both of them got down on one knee and proposed to Noah, the son of the family chauffeur. To amuse him and prove their loyalty, they cornered me. Knowing full well I suffered from severe stomach ulcers, they forced me to down glass after glass of raw, burning whiskey. As I collapsed, coughing up blood from a ruptured ulcer, they simultaneously covered Noah’s eyes and mocked me for putting on a pathetic show. Lying on the stretcher as the paramedics rushed me away, my heart finally died. On the day I was discharged from the hospital, I pulled out my phone and called my father. “Dad, I’ll do it. I will marry the Kensington heiress.” 1. The biting autumn wind pierced my clothes the second I stepped out of the hospital doors. My body had not yet adjusted to the bitter chill. My phone buzzed. It was Victoria Sinclair. Her tone was sharp, dripping with misplaced resentment. “Arthur, where exactly are you hiding? Do you honestly think running away absolves you of your responsibilities? Get back here right now and apologize to Noah.” Audrey’s voice echoed through the speaker immediately after. “Your little fake illness stunt really upset him. His constitution is already delicate, and thanks to your theatrics, he hasn’t had an appetite in days!” I looked at my own reflection in the sliding glass doors. I was so haggard and emaciated that a strong gust of wind could have knocked me over. I had suffered from chronic stomach issues and a weak immune system since childhood. During all those years we spent growing up, the Sinclair sisters had moved mountains to care for me. I still remembered a night when my illness flared up violently. The estate elevators had lost power, and Victoria had carried me on her slender back up twenty flights of stairs just to get me to a doctor. Audrey used to sprint across the entire city in the pouring rain just to buy my favorite artisan pastries, desperate to see me smile. From then on, every single thing I ate or drank was strictly monitored and personally handled by the two of them. It was a beautiful illusion. But the moment Noah stepped into the picture, everything shattered. I remained completely silent and hung up the phone. Then, I dialed my father’s number. “Dad, I have thought it through. I am willing to marry Genevieve Kensington.” My father paused on the other end of the line. “Arthur, this is a lifelong commitment. Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?” Years ago, after my mother passed away and our family business collapsed, my father sent me to live in Boston while he stayed behind to hold the crumbling remains of the Pendelton family together. It took him eighteen years of blood and sweat to forge a connection with the old money of the Kensington dynasty, earning our family a chance to rise from the ashes. But compared to the revival of our legacy, he cared far more about my happiness. Even when Dowager Kensington took one look at me and decided I was the perfect match for her granddaughter, my father still placed the ultimate choice in my hands. Back then, I was naive enough to believe that true love was rare and precious. I foolishly wanted to choose between the two Sinclair sisters. Now, the veil had been lifted. I finally understood that I was nothing more than a convenient pastime for their idle boredom. I should have known my place and walked away long ago. I opened a travel app to book a flight to New York. A notification popped up at the top of my screen. It was a new social media post from Noah. The caption read that true love needed no words, and only useless parasites resorted to cheap tricks to climb the social ladder. He proudly flaunted two distinct, dazzling diamond engagement rings on his fingers. The background of the photo was my bedroom. The bespoke tailored suit and the limited edition luxury watch he wore were the exact birthday gifts Victoria and Audrey had custom ordered for me six months ago. I quietly blocked Noah’s account. “I am entirely serious, Dad. I want to settle down and have a child of my own as soon as possible.” During my hospitalization, the lead physician warned me that this recent hemorrhage had caused irreversible damage to my already fragile constitution. If I did not try to start a family while I was still relatively young, I might lose the chance forever. I simply had no time left to wait for people who did not love me. “Alright. I respect your decision, son.” My father seemed to understand the unspoken pain in my voice. He told me that Grandma Kensington had already consulted their family astrologer, and next Sunday was the perfect date to sign the marriage license. He promised to arrange absolutely everything the moment I flew back. Just before disconnecting, he added one final request. “Make sure you say a proper goodbye to Mr. Sinclair.” I looked up at the suffocating gray sky. The doctors advised a week of bed rest to recover from the internal bleeding. I decided to use this one remaining week to sever every tie and properly bid farewell to my past. 2. I took a cab back to the Sinclair estate. The moment I stepped through the wrought iron gates, a blast of freezing water hit me square in the chest, soaking me to the bone. “Oh my gosh, Arthur, I am so sorry. I was just watering the garden and didn’t even see you there.” Noah held the brass nozzle of the garden hose, keeping the icy spray trained on me until I was completely drenched before finally lowering his hand. I forced my stinging eyes open. My breath caught in my throat. The rare white lilies I had meticulously cultivated for years had been violently uprooted and trashed. In their place was a garish, overwhelming sea of blood red roses. A sharp gust of autumn wind swept past, and my newly recovering body instantly seized up in agony. A wave of dizziness washed over me, nearly sending me to my knees. Standing on the veranda, Victoria and Audrey merely exchanged a look and sneered in unison. Their eyes were filled with disgust, clearly assuming I was putting on another dramatic medical act the second I returned. “I honestly thought you actually had a spine, Arthur. I thought you would never show your face here again,” Victoria sneered. Audrey crossed her arms, her voice dripping with venom. “Where else could he possibly go? Even his own parents dumped him. He is just a stray.” A sharp, physical ache tore through my chest. I suddenly remembered my very first day at the Sinclair estate. A young Audrey had held my trembling hand, trying every silly trick she knew to make me smile. She had looked up at me with bright eyes and promised that I never had to be afraid, because this would be my home forever. Victoria had personally cleared out the grandest master suite in the ancestral manor just for me. Years later, when the three of us moved into this modern villa closer to the city center, Victoria memorized every single one of my preferences. She designed the primary bedroom down to the thread count of the sheets. She had boldly declared to high society that, now and forever, I was the irreplaceable master of this house. That was true, right up until the day Noah used the excuse of helping his father with errands to enter the villa. Every single day, aside from clinging to the sisters, his favorite hobby was pretending to accidentally shatter my belongings. At first, I pitied his poor background and let it slide. But his audacity grew. He crossed the line by deliberately smashing an antique cameo locket my mother had left me, right in front of my face. Pushed to my absolute limit, I stepped forward to confront him, only for Victoria to shove me back violently. She frowned at me in disappointment, claiming Noah’s life was already hard enough. She demanded to know why a spoiled, silver spoon aristocrat like me insisted on bullying a naive, sheltered younger boy. Audrey chimed in, reminding me that Noah was even younger than her, and told me to act my age and show some grace. Clutching the shattered pieces of my mother’s locket, I felt a suffocating sense of helplessness for the very first time. From that day forward, the entire dynamic shifted. I was no longer the sun their universe revolved around. The chauffeur’s son methodically chipped away at my existence, replacing me piece by piece. He became the new master of the villa, utilizing every manipulative tactic in the book to force me out. Since that was the case, I had absolutely nothing left to linger for. I just wanted to pack my belongings and vanish. I walked into the foyer, only to find my personal items unceremoniously dumped in a chaotic pile in the hallway. Victoria stood at the top of the stairs, her arm wrapped protectively around Noah’s waist, looking down at me like a peasant. “Learn your place, Arthur. You are nothing but a parasite leeching off the Sinclair family. You have absolutely no right to look down on Noah, and you certainly do not have the right to throw aristocratic temper tantrums at him.” She continued her decree, stating that I was to move into the servant’s quarters immediately. She announced that all my corporate responsibilities would be handed over to Noah, and she was demoting me to the logistics department to do grunt work until I learned some basic human decency. Audrey casually ripped the seams of the vintage teddy bear my father had given me, tossing the stuffing into the air just to make Noah giggle. “If you ever throw another childish fit and upset Noah again, I promise I won’t let you off the hook, Arthur.” The casual cruelty in their voices was a far cry from the tender devotion they used to show me. If the old Arthur had heard these words, he would have been too heartbroken to sleep for weeks. But I was leaving now. I had zero energy to bicker with them. I kept my voice completely flat. “You are absolutely right.” “I will move my things out immediately.” “And there is no need to trouble the CEO with a department transfer. I quit.” Victoria let out a cold, incredulous laugh. “You really are dead set on clinging to our family as a lazy, useless burden, aren’t you?” “Whatever. Out of respect for your father, I will let your insubordination slide this once.” “Just remember where you stand from now on.” I walked straight past Victoria without looking at her. “There is no ‘from now on’.” This place had indeed given me countless beautiful memories. But ultimately, it was never my home. 3. I thought packing would take hours. But as I sifted through the pile in the hallway, I realized there was hardly anything left. Almost all of my clothes had been meticulously selected by Victoria. She used to say that I was the most important person in the Sinclair family, so naturally, I deserved the finest things in the world. Now, those exquisite fabrics were soaked in foul, murky water, reeking of decay. I had transitioned from being the center of her universe to an irrelevant parasite. I pushed the ruined clothes aside and saw hundreds of polaroid photos scattered across the hardwood floor. Audrey used to be obsessed with taking pictures of me, insisting she needed to document every single version of my smile. Whenever we took a group photo, the two sisters would practically go to war over who got to press their shoulder against mine. Now, in every single photograph of the three of us, my face had been violently carved out with a box cutter. I couldn’t bear to look at the mutilated images any longer. I scooped everything up in my arms and shoved it all straight into the heavy duty trash bin. Victoria was walking down the stairs with Noah just as I let the lid slam shut. A flicker of genuine shock crossed her eyes. She knew I had treasured those items more than my own life. But within a second, her expression hardened into a mocking sneer. “You certainly don’t mind throwing away the Sinclair family’s money.” The old Victoria would drop millions without blinking just to buy me a moment of happiness. Now that Noah was by her side, every single thing I did was a sin. I had lost the privilege of being cherished, and I had lost the desire to defend myself. I looked at her with dead eyes. “I will repay every cent.” “The Sinclair family doesn’t care about your pocket change. Just remember your promise to never harass Noah again,” she snapped. Noah tugged at the hem of Victoria’s silk blouse, pouting his lips. “Victoria, please don’t waste your precious time on irrelevant people. I really want to go to the secret base to see the sea of stars. Let’s go now.” My body froze, and my footsteps halted. The secret base Noah mentioned was a magnificent glass observatory Victoria had built for me when I first arrived in Boston. Mr. Sinclair had been overwhelmed with corporate takeovers back then, so he entrusted my care to Victoria, who was six years my senior. She practically laid the wonders of the world at my feet. She constantly told me I was her eternal moonlight, the pure love she would cherish forever. She personally designed a breathtaking planetarium ceiling inside the observatory, creating an immortal sea of stars just for me. Under that glowing celestial canopy, she had looked at me with profound devotion. “Arthur, never forget this. This galaxy belongs entirely to you, just like my love.” She told me that all the rivers and mountains eventually surrendered to the sea, and her love would constantly flow toward me in the exact same way. We spent eighteen years slowly perfecting that glass sanctuary. From that night on, the scales of my heart had tipped irrevocably toward Victoria. Yet, every single time I was on the verge of choosing her, Audrey would throw a spectacular, destructive tantrum, forcing me to retreat to preserve the peace. As for now. They had found their thrilling red rose, and they had long forgotten the quiet, fading moonlight. But it was fine. I took a deep, shaky breath and forced my legs to move forward. I didn’t want either of them anymore anyway. 4. Just as I walked past Noah, he suddenly lashed out, grabbing my wrist with a vicious grip. His manicured fingernails dug deeply into my skin, dragging down my forearm and leaving a jagged, bleeding scratch. “Why won’t you even listen to me finish my sentence, Arthur? Are you that disgusted by me?” A sharp hiss of pain escaped my lips, and I forcefully yanked my arm away from his grip. Using my momentum, Noah threw his entire body backward, collapsing onto the marble floor. “Victoria, help me!” Panic seized Victoria’s face. She lunged forward, gathering Noah into her arms as if he were made of fragile glass. Before my brain could even process the movement, her hand cracked across my cheek. The resounding slap echoed through the grand foyer. Audrey, rushing in from the courtyard upon hearing the commotion, immediately screamed at me. “Arthur, why are you constantly trying to destroy him?” “Don’t you ever forget, if the Sinclair family hadn’t taken pity on you, an unwanted orphan, you would be rotting in an alleyway eating out of dumpsters right now! Your ingratitude is one thing, but biting the hand that feeds you is disgusting!” A high pitched ringing filled my ears. This was the first time in my entire life that anyone had ever struck me. My entire universe seemed to shatter into microscopic fragments in that single, agonizing second. Victoria stared at her trembling hand, then up at my swelling face, realizing she had crossed a line. “Are you… are you okay? I…” “I’m fine. I don’t blame you.” I slowly lifted my thumb and wiped the metallic tang of blood from the corner of my mouth. I truly didn’t blame her. I would consider that violent slap the final payment for the life she saved when we were young. From this moment on, all debts were settled. We owed each other absolutely nothing. Audrey, however, refused to let it go, stepping into my path to block the door. “Don’t you dare walk away. Apologize to him right now!” Her vicious glare was completely unrecognizable from the sweet girl who used to trail behind me, begging for my attention. I knew exactly how ruthless she could be. Back in high school, a boy had mocked me for being a bankrupt orphan. Audrey had orchestrated a brutal underground retaliation, and Victoria used her wealth to clean up the mess. The two sisters executed their plan flawlessly, forcing the boy’s entire family to flee Boston in disgrace. Back then, I never could have imagined that one day, they would turn those exact same venomous tactics on me. I glanced at the triumphant smirk hiding behind Noah’s fake tears and buried the storm of emotions raging in my chest. “I will never apologize. I did absolutely nothing wrong.” I had nothing left to fear from them. Even without their threats, I was already walking out the door. 5. Audrey was still seething with rage, ready to strike. Victoria, plagued by a sudden surge of guilt, stepped in front of her sister and significantly softened her tone. “Let it go. I lost my temper just now, please don’t take it to heart. When I come back from my business trip, I’ll bring you those rich chocolate truffles you love so much.” “But you have to promise me one thing. You must stop making things difficult for Noah.” A slap to the face, followed by a piece of chocolate. But she had completely forgotten. I had bleeding ulcers. Chocolate truffles triggered agonizing acid reflux for me. Years ago, in order to protect my digestive health, Victoria fired a dozen private chefs until she found one perfect enough. In the end, she stayed up for consecutive nights researching nutritional therapy, personally designing my entire dietary plan. Audrey used to hover over me every single day, tirelessly making sure I adhered to the regimen. And now, they had forgotten all of it. A draft of icy air swept through the open door, and a bone deep chill erupted from my chest, swallowing me whole. I shivered violently, suddenly remembering that the clothes plastered to my skin were still soaking wet from the freezing water. I could feel a heavy fever rapidly taking over my body. Just as the nausea hit me, Audrey intentionally shoved her shoulder hard into my chest as she walked past. “Stop faking it.” My weakened legs buckled, and I collapsed straight into the decorative mud pit by the doorway. Victoria turned her head, a flash of genuine conflict tearing through her eyes. But ultimately, she flanked Noah with her sister, and the three of them walked out, leaving me in the dirt. I lay there for a long time before I found the strength to drag myself out of the mud and call an ambulance. The attending doctor took one look at my catastrophic state and began shouting in pure frustration. “You were literally just discharged! How did you end up like this?” “Do you have a death wish? Because your body cannot handle this kind of abuse!” I didn’t dare utter a single excuse. I quietly obeyed his orders and stayed in the hospital under strict observation for several days. It wasn’t until my fever completely broke that the medical staff finally cleared me to leave. Having lost so much precious time, I had to accelerate my departure plans. I went to the corporate headquarters to formally process my resignation and say goodbye to the colleagues who had treated me well over the years. Only to discover that Noah had already fired every single one of them. The remaining employees actively avoided me like I was carrying a plague. I stood alone in the grand corporate lobby for half the day, only to be casually informed by a receptionist that Victoria and Noah had left town on a business trip. The three of them had flown to Nantucket, to the very beach I had loved most as a child. They were visiting the exact destinations I had always dreamed of seeing but never had the chance to go to. A bitter, self deprecating laugh escaped my lips. I dropped my resignation letter into the lobby trash can. I had been so stressed about how to explain my sudden departure, completely oblivious to the fact that absolutely no one cared if I existed. Now, I only had one task left. Say goodbye to Mr. Sinclair. Then I could leave this city without a single regret.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “581055”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When Victoria’s family lost everything, I lived in a cramped, windowless basement with her. I worked three jobs a day to help her rebuild her empire from the ground up. When she finally reached the pinnacle of success, she promised to give me a real home. Yet, in the third year of our marriage, I accidentally stumbled upon the property deed to our marital home. Under the owner’s name, I saw the name of her first love. With red, tearful eyes, she explained, “This is what I owe him.” I nodded slowly. I pulled out a photograph from our days in that suffocating basement, showing a tiny folding table completely buried under a mountain of debt collection notices, and pushed it across the table. “You paid off your debt to him with a house. So, how are you going to pay back what you owe me?” 1 I gently slid the property deed across the table toward Victoria. The words “Owner: Tristan” stung my eyes like shards of glass. Victoria’s face instantly drained of color. She instinctively reached out to snatch the paper away, but her hand froze in midair. “Joey, please listen to me…” Her voice was hoarse, her eyes rapidly turning red. It was a look I knew all too well. Whenever she felt guilty about wronging me, she would put on this innocent, fragile expression. There was a time when that look would break my heart. “Alright. I am listening,” I said, picking up my glass of warm water. My tone was unnervingly calm. She stared at me, a flicker of panic flashing through her eyes. My absolute composure seemed to terrify her. “Tristan… he hasn’t been doing well.” She struggled to get the words out. “Years ago, my parents violently opposed our relationship and forced us apart. It triggered severe depression for him. He had to drop out of college, and his entire life was nearly ruined.” “So, this house is my way of compensating him. Joey, this is what I owe him.” I nodded, signaling that I understood. “And what about what you owe me?” Victoria froze, looking at me as if I were speaking a foreign language. I didn’t spare her another glance. I pulled out my phone and brought up a photo I had kept for years. It was taken in the cramped, hundred square foot basement in Brooklyn we used to rent. The image showed a battered folding table entirely buried under a mountain of final notice bills. In the corner of the frame, you could barely make out her slumped silhouette, radiating absolute despair. “You paid off your debt to him with a house. So, how are you going to pay back what you owe me?” She looked down at the screen, and her body jerked violently. The photo clearly dragged her back to the agonizing, suffocating memories of us struggling to survive together. To help her pay off the astronomical debts her family left behind, I quit my stable corporate job. I started working three different shifts. I did freelance design during the day, drove a ride share all night, and took on odd jobs every weekend. For three solid years, I never slept more than four hours a night. Once, I caught a severe fever. To save money on a doctor’s visit, I wrapped myself in thick blankets and tried to sweat it out, nearly developing fatal pneumonia in the process. Victoria had held me and cried uncontrollably that night. She swore to the heavens that she would give me a real home and never let me suffer again. She kept her word. She rebuilt her empire and became a ruthless titan of the business world. She also gave me a home. A home with another man’s name legally bound to it. “Joey.” Victoria looked up, the guilt in her eyes practically overflowing. “I know you are the one I have wronged the most. But Tristan and I are completely over. You are the man I love, and you will be my only husband.” “I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you. Please?” She reached out, her tone bordering on begging. “Tristan already lost me. He cannot lose everything else. Think of this house as a final period marking the end of our past.” I smoothly dodged her hand. “Alright. I understand.” Seeing that I wasn’t screaming or throwing a tantrum, her posture visibly relaxed. She genuinely believed I had accepted her absurd justification. Meanwhile, beneath the table, I opened my messages and quietly texted my lawyer, instructing him to draft a divorce agreement immediately. 2 Victoria paused, hesitating before she spoke again. “Joey, can I discuss something with you?” “It’s about Tristan. He got into a dispute with his landlord and was kicked out. He can’t find a suitable place to live on such short notice.” “Do you think… he could move into our house for a little while? Just as a temporary transition.” A bitter laugh almost escaped my throat. Was she completely out of her mind? “Do you honestly think that is appropriate?” I asked coldly. “Why wouldn’t it be?” A hint of impatience immediately crept into her voice. “Joey, when did you become so petty and calculating? I already told you, he is entirely in the past. My heart belongs only to you.” “His mental state is incredibly fragile right now. He is completely alone. What is the harm in helping him out?” “You have my word. I will never betray you!” She sounded so incredibly righteous. But she had already betrayed me. The moment she decided to give our sanctuary to another man, the betrayal was absolute. “Victoria,” I said slowly, pronouncing every syllable. “Do you see me as a puppet you can manipulate however you please?” “Do you think that just because I swallowed years of suffering for you, I deserve to be trampled on like this?” She fell silent. After a long pause, she rubbed her temples and let out an exhausted sigh. “Joey, stop overthinking everything. I am simply helping a friend. My decision is final. I am going to pick him up.” Without another word, she grabbed her keys and walked out. Hearing the heavy thud of the front door closing, I closed my eyes, forcibly swallowing the acidic burn rising in my throat. Getting angry over worthless people was a waste of energy. Right then, my phone rang. It was Victoria’s father, Richard. “Joey, my boy. Come back to the old estate for a family dinner tomorrow with Victoria.” Richard had always treated me incredibly well. I couldn’t bring myself to reject him. “Of course, Dad.” After hanging up, I stared out the window at the darkening sky. My chest felt hollow and freezing. The next day, I drove back to the Kensington estate alone. When the Kensington family went bankrupt, this magnificent ancestral home had been mortgaged and auctioned off. Later, when Victoria climbed back to power, she desperately wanted to buy back the property that held all her childhood memories. But the new owner utterly refused to sell. It was me who visited the eccentric retired professor with gifts, week after week. I spent three entire months wearing him down until he finally nodded and agreed to sell it back to us at the original price. When Richard saw me walk in alone, his brow furrowed deeply. “Where is Victoria? Wrapped up in her nonsense again?” “An emergency board meeting came up. She will be here a bit later,” I lied, covering for her out of habit. Richard patted my shoulder heavily and led me to the leather sofa. He let out a long sigh. “Joey, stop covering for her. I have heard all about what she has been doing lately.” My heart skipped a beat. “Is she tangling herself up with that Tristan boy again?” Richard’s gaze sharpened into daggers. “I warned her years ago. That man is rotten to the core. I told her to stay as far away from him as possible!” I lowered my head and said nothing. Richard rubbed my back, his voice thick with validation and profound regret. “You are a good kid, and you have been wronged. Rest assured, the Kensington family acknowledges you and only you as our son-in-law. If she dares to do anything to betray you, I will be the first one to make her pay!” A sliver of warmth entered my cold heart. I forced a smile. “I am fine, Dad.” Just then, Victoria walked through the door. When she saw me, her face instantly darkened. She was clearly annoyed that I had arrived before her. “Dad, did you call Joey here just so he could complain to you?” Her very first words were dripping with hostility. Richard grabbed his porcelain teacup, looking entirely ready to smash it against the wall, but he held back. “You ungrateful brat, what kind of nonsense are you spouting? Do you really think Joey is that kind of person? If he had uttered a single bad word about you to me, I wouldn’t have even let you through the front gates today!” “Then what is this?” Victoria snapped impatiently. “If he didn’t run his mouth, how do you know about Tristan?” “Do I need him to tell me?” Richard sneered coldly. “You brought that man straight into headquarters and made him your personal assistant. You practically broadcasted your filthy little affair to the entire corporate board. Do you think I am blind?” A bitter smile crept onto my face. 3 Shortly after she left the house yesterday, she couldn’t wait to bring Tristan back and move him into the guest room. Following that, she placed him directly in her company, keeping him glued to her side. Afterward, she had offered me a sickeningly fake explanation, claiming Tristan was new to the corporate world and would adapt faster if she personally guided him. Victoria’s face shifted from pale to green. She took a deep breath, seemingly too exhausted to argue further, and bluntly announced her move. “Tristan is waiting outside. I told him to bring in an urgent document.” Without giving us a chance to react, she turned around and opened the heavy oak doors. Tristan walked in timidly behind her. He wore a crisp white button down shirt, looking the picture of pure, helpless innocence. The moment he saw Richard, he reflexively shrank behind Victoria’s back. Victoria instantly shifted into a defensive posture. “He is only here to drop off a file. Stop glaring at him like he is a criminal on trial. You are terrifying him.” I looked at Victoria as if she were a complete idiot. Tristan stood beside her, his voice trembling and soft like a frightened animal. “Victoria, this is a private family dinner. It is… inappropriate for me to be here. I should just leave.” Yet, his feet remained firmly planted to the floor. He didn’t take a single step backward. “You must be exhausted from delivering the files. Stay and eat before you go.” Ignoring any protests, Victoria forcibly pushed him down into the empty chair right beside hers. That seat was originally meant for me. The atmosphere in the dining room plummeted below freezing. Richard stared coldly at Tristan’s pathetic theatrical act, a mocking sneer curving his lips. “Mr. Tristan, we are both grown men. You can drop the victim act in my house.” Richard slammed his chopsticks onto the table, showing zero mercy. “I can see right through your pathetic little calculations.” Tristan’s face turned deathly pale. Tears instantly welled up in his eyes. “Mr. Kensington, I… I have no idea what you are talking about.” “No idea?” Richard chuckled darkly. “Years ago, when you and Victoria were dating in college, she brought you to this exact house for the first time. The second you walked through the doors, your eyes never stopped scanning the expensive decor.” “When you heard the sheer scale of our corporate assets, the raw greed and scheming in your eyes were practically written across your forehead!” Tristan’s entire body began to tremble, acting as if he were enduring unimaginable humiliation. Seeing this, Victoria slammed her hands onto the table and shot up from her chair. “Enough!” She glared viciously at her own father. “It has been years, and you are still exactly the same! You never cared about what was best for me. You just wanted absolute control over my life!” “When you violently forced us apart, you pushed Tristan into a deep depression! Do you feel even an ounce of guilt? Now that he finally has the strength to step back into the world, why do you have to stab him with such vicious, toxic words?” “Control you?” Richard was practically shaking with fury. “If I really wanted to control you, I would never have let Joey suffer alongside you in that basement when you went bankrupt! You ungrateful wretch, have you completely forgotten who dragged you out of hell?” “I haven’t forgotten!” Victoria’s eyes were bloodshot as she screamed back. “I will spend the rest of my life repaying Joey’s kindness! But that does not conflict with me making amends to Tristan!” With that, she violently grabbed the trembling Tristan by the wrist and marched toward the door without looking back. “Where the hell are you going?” Richard roared behind her. “I am not staying in this toxic house another second!” She dragged Tristan away, fueled by blind rage. From beginning to end, she did not spare me a single glance. She didn’t even consider taking me with her. “Joey, ignore her. Let her roll in the dirt!” Richard was panting heavily. He grabbed my hand. “Stay the night. Have a drink with your old man.” I shook my head slowly and stood up. “Dad, I should go back.” This was a war between Victoria and me. I could not let him completely sever ties with his own daughter because of me. Out in the driveway, Victoria’s car was still parked. She was leaning against the driver’s door, impatiently scrolling through her phone. Clearly, she was waiting for me. So, she finally remembered that she had left her husband inside. I slowly walked toward her. The glow of the streetlamps stretched my shadow out long across the pavement, making me look incredibly isolated and lonely. Hearing my footsteps, Victoria looked up. The impatience on her face only deepened. “What took you so long? Get in.” She pulled open the door and slid into the driver’s seat. I walked to the passenger side. Before my hand even touched the handle, a pained groan echoed from the back seat. 4 “Victoria… I feel so sick… I can’t breathe…” Victoria’s face instantly drained of color. She threw herself over the center console to check on him. “Tristan, what’s wrong?” “I… I think… I am having an allergic reaction to peanuts…” Tristan’s voice was broken and breathy, dripping with agonizing pain. Victoria’s head snapped toward me, her eyes blazing with absolute condemnation. “Joey! You knew Tristan was deathly allergic to peanuts! Why didn’t you warn the kitchen staff beforehand?” I stared at her, completely dumbfounded by her logic. When exactly was I ever informed of his allergies? And why on earth was it my responsibility to manage the dietary restrictions of a random interloper in my father-in-law’s kitchen? Furthermore, all the dishes were already plated and served by the time we even arrived. “I had no idea he was allergic to peanuts,” I answered in a deadpan tone. “You didn’t know?” Victoria’s voice spiked in volume. “You did this on purpose! Are you really that desperate to eliminate him?” A sharp, incredulous laugh ripped out of me. “So what if I did? What exactly do you want from me? Do you want me to write a formal apology for his throat closing up?” “I will let it slide this time!” Victoria hissed through gritted teeth. “Since he will be living under our roof from now on, you better pay close attention! I will not tolerate another incident like this!” She expected me to actively cater to him in my own home? I could hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth. Just how utterly shameless could this woman become? Before I could fire back, Tristan let out another dramatic, strangled groan from the back. The last thread of Victoria’s rationality snapped. “We have to get to the ER right now!” She fired up the engine and looked at me frantically. “Get out of the car!” I stood absolutely still, staring through the window. “You want me to walk back?” We were in the middle of an exclusive, isolated suburban estate. Public transportation did not exist here, and catching a cab at this hour was virtually impossible. Victoria punched the steering wheel in frustration. “The hospital is in the completely opposite direction of our house! I do not have the time to drop you off, Tristan’s life is on the line! Figure it out yourself. Deal with it!” With a screech of tires, she slammed on the gas, leaving me standing in a cloud of harsh exhaust fumes. I stood entirely alone on the dark, empty road. A bitter night wind swept past, cutting through my clothes and chilling me to the bone. She said it so casually. Deal with it. Yes. I had dealt with far too much over the past few years. I pulled out my phone and dialed her personal chauffeur. “Thomas, please come pick me up from the old estate.” Ten minutes later, the sleek black car pulled up. Thomas looked surprised to see me standing alone. “Mr. Joey, where is the boss? I thought you were returning together.” I pulled open the door and slid in. “An urgent matter came up at the company. She had to leave early.” Inside, I was laughing bitterly. She was busy nursing her precious first love. Not long after I got back to the silent house, my phone chimed with a notification. I tapped the screen, and my pupils violently contracted. In the photo, Victoria was fast asleep in a plush hotel bed, wearing a thick white bathrobe. Her pale skin was littered with aggressive, unmistakable red hickeys, trailing from the base of her neck all the way down to her collarbone. Beneath the photo was a highly provocative text: “Joey, Victoria isn’t coming home tonight. She said she can only truly relax when she is with me.” So, the dramatic peanut allergy emergency was nothing but a cheap excuse for them to get a hotel room. Victoria. You really outdid yourself this time. My face was a mask of absolute stone. I took screenshots of the photo and the message, bundled them together, and emailed them directly to my lawyer. Then, I forwarded the same screenshots to Victoria with a single line of text: [I guess giving him the house wasn’t enough. You had to hand over your body too, right?] Within twenty minutes of sending the message, Victoria burst through the front door, looking panicked and slightly breathless. A guilty, caught-in-the-act expression was plastered across her face. “Joey, listen to me, it is not what you think. Tristan and I…” “Shut up,” I cut her off with ice in my voice, refusing to listen to her exhausted, pathetic lies. She tried to step forward and grab my hand. “Come on, stop throwing a tantrum. Nothing happened between us.” I violently slapped her hand away in pure disgust. I turned around, walked into the study, and grabbed a massive, thick stack of old debt collection notices. “Victoria, look at these!” I pointed at the mountain of yellowing bills, my voice violently trembling with suppressed rage. “Do you remember these? When your family went bankrupt, I was the one who moved into that pitch black basement with you. I was the one who starved with you, eating one meal a day!” “To help you clear tens of millions in debt, I emptied my entire life savings. I slaved away in a cubicle all day and drove cabs all night!” “When you got blackout drunk and collapsed on the sidewalk, I was the one who carried you home on your back. When your wealthy former friends humiliated you in public, I was the one who stood in front of you and fought them off! Where the hell was your precious Tristan back then?!” “And look at you now. You climbed out of the gutter. You are the untouchable CEO again. You get your precious first love back in your arms, and suddenly I am just an obstacle in your way?” By the end, I was practically screaming. I took the heavy stack of bills and viciously hurled them directly into her face. The papers exploded into the air, raining down around us. “How exactly are you going to pay me back for this?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “581054”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Ever since my best friend confessed that she was sleeping with her married boss, I had not slept a wink. On one hand, it was a twenty year friendship that I could not bear to cut loose. On the other hand, my moral conscience was screaming at me. I absolutely despised women who destroyed other people’s families. But she was my only true friend. Torn and desperate, I called into a popular late night advice podcast. By the time the host finished breaking down my situation, a cold sweat had completely soaked through my shirt. 1 The moment my call was connected, my hands gripping the phone were clammy. My throat felt incredibly tight. “Host, I have a best friend I’ve known since elementary school. We were so close we used to share everything. When I got married, she was my maid of honor. But recently, she secretly confessed that she is the ‘other woman.’ The guy is an executive at her company. He has a wife and kids.” Saying those words out loud made my chest physically ache. I kept telling myself that this was wrong. I loathed home wreckers more than anything. But the second I thought about our two decades of history, all those tears and laughs we shared, my resolve crumbled. My voice broke into a quiet sob. “Should I just cut her out of my life? I really can’t bear to do it. She is my best friend.” The host’s voice was deep, steady, and entirely devoid of sugarcoating. He cut straight to the bone. “Let me throw a radical hypothetical at you. If she wasn’t playing the ‘other woman,’ but was instead selling her body to strangers for cash, would you still keep her around as a friend?” I didn’t even have to think about it. The words slipped right out. “Absolutely not.” The second I said it, I froze. Both actions crossed massive moral boundaries. Why was I giving her a free pass for destroying a family, just because she held the title of ‘best friend’? The host’s words hit me like a sledgehammer. He continued, his tone sharp. “Then why do you tolerate her actively ruining another woman’s home? If she committed arson or murder, would you keep her by your side just because you ‘grew up together’? We cannot choose our blood relatives, but we can choose our friends every single day of our lives. A friendship is not a blood pact. You do not owe her your own moral compass.” I fell utterly silent. Tears slipped silently down my cheeks. I tried to defend her, though I knew I was only lying to myself. “Because… we have such beautiful memories. I keep thinking, what if she realizes her mistake? If she ends the affair, can we still go back to how things were?” I was still desperately clinging to a fantasy. I wanted to believe it was just a moment of weakness, and that our twenty years of sisterhood would somehow guide her back to the light. The host shattered that illusion without mercy. “That is not a ‘mistake.’ That is a rotten core. Do not expect her loyalty to you to somehow make up for her collapsed morality. She did something disgusting, and then she bragged to you about it. That proves she doesn’t even feel an ounce of shame. Stop betting on her humanity based on your shared past.” He paused, letting the silence hang heavy before his tone turned deadly serious. “You are a married woman, so I am going to spell this out for you. You think we are debating morality right now? We are talking about your own safety. Allowing a proud homewrecker to casually stroll in and out of your life is planting a landmine in your own living room. Your husband is going to notice. Once he realizes you tolerate and even accept a woman with zero boundaries, what message does that send him? It is an invisible permission slip. He will think, ‘Wow, my wife is completely fine with infidelity. She accepts mistresses.’” Those words felt like a bucket of ice water to the face. I had never looked at it from that angle. I was so wrapped up in my own emotional attachment that I had completely ignored my own marriage. I had ignored my husband. He was right. How could I risk the sanctity of my own home just to shelter her toxic secrets? I took a deep, shaky breath, shoving my heartbreak down into the pit of my stomach. My voice finally steadied. “Okay. I know what I need to do now. Thank you so much.” 2 I ended the call, dropped my phone onto the sofa, and let the tears flow freely. I wanted to type out a long text message to give our friendship a proper burial. But as my fingers hovered over the screen, I just could not bring myself to hit send. Right then, my thumb accidentally tapped the live stream button on my screen. I had forgotten to exit the app completely. The host’s broadcast was still playing in the background. And he was speaking a truth he hadn’t wanted to say directly to my face. “To be honest with all of you listening, I only gave that caller half the truth just now.” His voice was heavy, laced with a dark warning. “There is a psychological concept called the Broken Window Theory. If you walk past a building and all the windows are pristine, no one dares to throw a rock. But if just one window is already shattered, human nature kicks in. People can’t resist the urge to pick up a stone and smash another pane. It is basic, ugly human nature.” My entire body went rigid. The phone nearly slipped from my sweaty palm. “That caller’s best friend is a broken window.” Every single syllable drilled directly into my skull. “Her husband is a flesh and blood mortal man. His temptations are unpredictable. Is he going to look at her best friend and think: ‘Well, her window is already broken anyway. Why shouldn’t I be the one to throw a stone?’ Never put human nature to the test. Telling her to keep that mistress away from her husband isn’t about upholding justice. It is about saving her own life.” In that exact fraction of a second, all my hesitation, all my nostalgic grief, completely evaporated. All that was left was a terrifying chill creeping down my spine. I always thought my indecision was a sign of a loyal heart. I never once realized that my so called ‘attachment’ was not only warping my own morals, but actively planting a lethal bomb under my own roof. I slowly picked up my phone, wiped my eyes dry, and opened her contact profile. I deleted the emotional goodbye paragraph I had drafted, and firmly tapped ‘Block.’ Outside the window, the sky bruised into a deep purple twilight. I gathered my scattered emotions and walked into the kitchen to start making dinner. I planned to sit down with my husband when he got home, tell him everything, and explain the boundary I had finally drawn. “Honey, I’m home,” Mark called out, pushing the front door open. I walked over out of pure habit to take his suit jacket. As my fingers brushed against the fabric of his pocket, they grazed a smooth, metallic tube. I pulled it out. It was a lipstick. It was not my shade. It was a very specific dusty rose tint. The exact shade Jess had worn every single day for the last five years. The tip of the lipstick was freshly smeared. My heart violently contracted, and the suit jacket nearly slipped from my trembling fingers. I forced a mask of casual curiosity onto my face. “Whose lipstick is in your pocket?” Mark’s eyes darted away for a fraction of a second before he smoothly brushed it off. “Isn’t it yours? I found it wedged in the passenger seat. It probably fell out of Jess’s purse the last time I gave her a ride. You guys are always together, you know how she is.” His tone was incredibly calm, laying out a perfectly logical excuse. Any other day, I would have bought it without a second thought. But the podcast host’s chilling warning was still echoing in my ears. The blood in my veins turned to ice. The ‘landmine’ the host had warned me about was not a future possibility. It had already detonated right under my feet. I didn’t expose him on the spot. I just turned around in silence and walked back to the kitchen, my entire back violently trembling. I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to breathe, and began piecing together every single detail I had blindly ignored. Jess had been dropping by our house constantly lately, always claiming she was ‘just in the neighborhood.’ She was always dressed flawlessly, and the way her eyes lingered on Mark always carried a strange, sticky heat. Mark had been coming home late for months. His excuses were always ‘overtime’ or ‘entertaining clients.’ His phone was permanently on silent, and he even took it into the shower with him. For my birthday last month, Jess gifted me a designer necklace. It was the exact same necklace I had seen a photo of on Mark’s phone a week prior. He had told me he was buying it for a ‘VIP client.’ There was even a time I walked into the living room and caught them whispering and laughing on the sofa. The second I entered, they snapped apart, looking like deer in headlights. All those little coincidences. My ‘deep sisterhood’ and my ‘happy marriage’ were nothing but a grotesque stage play. 3 I shoved the nausea deep down into my stomach and mechanically finished cooking the dinner spread. The doorbell suddenly rang. A massive, vibrant bouquet of purple violets obscured the doorway. Behind it was Jess’s brilliantly smiling face. Before I could even process her presence, she squeezed past the door frame and threw her arms around me. “Surprise! I bought you your absolute favorite flowers!” My entire body went stiff as a board. Every hair on my arms stood on end. Jess pulled back, a dramatic pout forming on her glossy lips. “Sophie, what is going on with you? Did you seriously block me on social media?” I opened my mouth, completely unsure of what to say, and possessing zero desire to explain myself. Jess seemed to misread my awkward silence. She laughed and affectionately ruffled my hair. “I knew it. You definitely pressed the wrong button by accident, didn’t you? Sophie, you are getting so bad with technology. My little nephew knows how to use his phone better than you do.” Her tone was sickeningly sweet, playing up her usual quirky, innocent persona. She acted as if this was just a silly little misunderstanding between two lifelong friends. I played along, giving a stiff nod and forcing a wooden smile onto my face. Seeing the dining table covered in steaming dishes, Jess’s eyes practically sparkled with fake tears. “You are the absolute best, Sophie. You cooked all my favorite dishes! Honestly, your cooking hits the spot better than my own mother’s.” It was only then that I looked down at the table and truly saw it. Every single dish laid out was either Jess’s favorite or Mark’s favorite. Not a single plate held food that I actually liked. These were the two people I loved and trusted most in the entire world, and they had joined forces to slaughter my soul. They took my unconditional love and turned it into a punchline. A bitter, corrosive taste flooded my mouth. I swallowed hard. I managed to pull up the corners of my mouth into a smile that looked more like a grimace. “As long as you guys like it. Oh, I think I forgot to bring up that bottle of red wine from the trunk of the car. Let me run down and grab it.” “I’ll go,” Mark said, putting down his chopsticks to stand up. “No!” My voice spiked sharply, carrying a shrill edge that even surprised me. I didn’t dare look at their faces. I grabbed my keys from the entryway console, along with my old backup phone. The second the door clicked shut behind me, I quickly unlocked the backup phone. Before stepping out, I had deliberately opened a voice recording app on my main phone and left it hidden on the bookshelf. I dialed my main phone from the backup device. The call auto answered silently. A second later, Jess’s voice came through the speaker. “Sophie is acting super weird today.” Mark’s voice followed, sounding irritated. “Of course she is acting weird. How many times do I have to tell you to be careful? You literally left your lipstick in my coat pocket.” “What? Do you think she figured it out? Mark, listen to me right now. Sophie is my best friend in the world. I might lose you, but I refuse to lose her!” Mark let out a cruel, mocking scoff. “Oh, so now you want to play the fiercely loyal best friend? You didn’t seem too worried about protecting Sophie when you stripped naked and crawled into my bed.” Jess gasped, sounding playful rather than offended. “Hey! I was just testing the merchandise for my bestie. What if you were bad in bed?” “You stubborn little fox.” What followed was the unmistakable, wet sound of skin on skin, and heavy kissing. Before, it was just a strong suspicion. Now, the absolute, disgusting truth was pouring directly into my ears. My knees buckled. I slid down the cold hallway wall, pressing my hand hard over my mouth to muffle my violent sobbing. My brain was flooded with a chaotic reel of memories I couldn’t stop. In college, when Mark formally asked me out, I brought my best friend along to meet him. Jess was brutally cold to him the entire night. She picked apart his clothes, mocked his career prospects, and nearly started a screaming match at the restaurant. When the night ended in disaster, Jess grabbed my hands and looked me dead in the eye. “Sophie, this guy is a loser. He is not good enough for you. Dump him!” Back then, I just thought she was being fiercely protective and a little too picky. Years later, when we got married, Jess was my maid of honor. She cried harder than I did at the reception. She hugged me tight and whispered fiercely. “You better be happy. If he ever dares to make you cry, I will personally destroy him!” But during the vow exchange, looking back now, I remembered the incredibly complex, dark look in her eyes as she stared at Mark’s profile. Even after the wedding, they supposedly hated each other. Whenever Jess came over, they bickered constantly over the smallest things. The movie choice, the seasoning in the food, a random news headline. I always played the exhausted peacemaker, secretly feeling so lucky that I had a best friend who ‘kept my husband in check’ and a husband who ‘tolerated’ my difficult friend. I wiped my face dry, saved the audio file to a secure cloud drive, and took a deep breath. This recording was going to be my golden ticket in divorce court. 4 When I walked back to the dining table, my face was a mask of perfect calm. I looked straight at Mark. “I’m done cooking from now on. I am going out tomorrow to look for a job. I’ve been out of the workforce for too long.” Mark’s brow furrowed in deep disapproval. “Why the sudden urge to work? Isn’t it nice staying at home? It’s not like I can’t afford to take care of you. The corporate world is exhausting, the office politics are toxic. I just don’t want you to suffer.” Jess’s eyes, however, lit up with fake excitement. “Are you serious? Sophie, that is amazing! Come work at my company. I have enough pull to make sure nobody messes with you, and we get to see each other every single day!” Her tone was so warm, so incredibly genuine. Her eyes sparkled with what looked like pure support. Staring at her flawless performance, my mind boggled at how a human being could be so terrifyingly deceptive. I shook my head, keeping my voice entirely flat. “No thanks. I want to rely on my own abilities and find my own path.” I refused to let my life be entangled with hers for another second. I needed to get as far away as possible from the cage she and Mark had built around me. I was taking my life back. Mark tried to shut it down again. “I make enough to support this family. Your place is right here at home.” Before I could respond, Jess shot Mark a glaring look. “Stop being so controlling! My Sophie is incredibly talented. Why should she be locked up in your house like a pet? She isn’t a canary in a cage. She deserves her own life.” Watching her aggressively defend my honor made the air leave my lungs. The harder she played the fiercely loyal best friend, the more sickening the irony became. The physical pain in my chest was blinding. I didn’t argue. I just gave a quiet nod. Only one thought echoed in my skull. Get away from them. Run as fast as you can. For the next few weeks, I operated in total secrecy. I drafted divorce papers with a lawyer and sent out my resume like a machine. Finally, my hard work paid off. I landed a solid position at a mid-sized firm. But barely a month into the job, my department manager started targeting me. No matter how flawlessly I executed a project, he found a way to tear it apart. He forced me to work ridiculous overtime hours and humiliated me in front of the team, calling me a “washed-up housewife” who couldn’t keep up with modern business and didn’t belong in a corporate building. Just as I was on the verge of breaking down and quitting, Jess magically appeared at my company. She stepped in, completely humiliated my manager, and had him fired on the spot. That was when the horrifying truth dropped. Jess had requested a lateral transfer from her corporate headquarters and was now my direct superior. In that moment, the blood froze in my veins. Absolute despair washed over me. I was running as fast as I could, but she was a shadow sewn to my feet. In the following weeks, Jess played the role of the benevolent mentor to perfection. She guided me through projects step-by-step and shielded me from office politics. But her ‘kindness’ felt like a concrete boulder crushing my chest. My coworkers began looking at me with deep resentment. In their eyes, I was just the “boss’s pet,” a useless parasite who only survived because of nepotism, and the reason the previous manager got the axe. Even Mark started treating me with open disdain. He dropped by the office one afternoon to bring me coffee. “Look at yourself. You completely lost your mind demanding all this independence. Without Jess holding your hand, you are absolutely nothing. You’d be eaten alive. Just quit and go back to the kitchen where you belong.” I stayed silent, grinding my teeth. That only fueled his ego. “You do not have the brain for a career. Look at Jess. Look at the aura she commands when she negotiates a deal. That is what a real career woman looks like. Stop making a fool of yourself, accept your reality, and go home to cook dinner.” Hearing him so blatantly compare me to his mistress made my stomach violently churn. I had reached my absolute limit. I slowly lifted my head and stared directly into his eyes. “Mark, when you and Jess are rolling around naked in bed together, does she strip off her clothes with that same ‘career woman aura’?” Time stopped. Every single coworker in the open-plan office who was pretending to work instantly froze, their jaws dropping as they stared at our cubicle. Mark’s pupils shrunk to pinpricks. It looked like he had been struck in the face with a baseball bat. The color instantly drained from his skin, leaving him looking like a corpse. He opened his mouth, but only a pathetic, breathless wheeze came out. I stood up, pushing my chair back. “I am officially resigning tomorrow. The divorce papers are already drawn up. I never want to see either of your disgusting faces for the rest of my life.” I turned on my heel to walk away. Behind me, there was a loud splash. The iced coffee in Jess’s hand had slipped from her trembling fingers and crashed onto the floor. Her face was paper white. Her glossy lips were visibly shaking. At that exact second, the heavy glass doors of the office suite were violently shoved open. A middle-aged woman with perfectly styled curls, wearing an elegant, vibrant silk dress, stormed into the room like a hurricane. “Jess! Which one of you is Jess?! Show your face right now, you shameless, husband-stealing home wrecker!!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “581053”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My father had a stroke abroad, dying. My boyfriend Liam, who was supposed to be with him, was unreachable. Dad’s last wish was to see me settled. I called Liam again and again until someone answered—cheers and toasts in the background: “To a long, happy life!” He’d married his childhood sweetheart, Anna, to fulfill her mother’s birthday wish. I begged him to come, just to stand with me once, for my father’s sake. Liam’s voice was cold, impatient. “Nina, are you faking your father’s death just to pressure me into marriage?” “Anna’s mother is sixty today. The living come first. Don’t ruin this.” I hung up, took my father’s hand. “Dad,” I whispered, choked, “I’ll do as you said. I’ll go abroad, marry Daniel.” A faint smile touched his lips. “You always said you had a boyfriend… I waited, but never saw him.” “Daniel is loyal, capable. With him, I can rest… and face your mother.” I nodded, tears falling. “I promise.” Liam was my father’s protégé, a student he had sponsored since he was a boy. We had been together for six years, a secret we kept from the world. Liam claimed that his humble, rural background would make people think he was just riding my coattails, that his achievements weren’t his own. This business trip was for a major academic conference. My father hadn’t been well and could have skipped it, but he insisted on going. He was nearing retirement, and he wanted to personally introduce Liam to the titans of their field, to open doors for his future. Before they left, Liam promised me he would take good care of my father, that he would bring him back safe and sound. But my father couldn’t be saved. The doctors said if he had been brought in sooner, his chances would have been excellent. When he collapsed, Liam, who was supposed to be sharing his room, was nowhere to be found. It was a housekeeper who finally discovered him. I went through the motions of arranging the funeral, my heart a hollow, numb cavern. At the memorial, all of my father’s colleagues and students in the country came to pay their last respects. Everyone except Liam. I overheard some of the junior researchers whispering. “Why isn’t Liam here? Wasn’t he at the conference with the professor?” “Professor Davies was so good to him. No matter how busy he is, he should be here.” “Oh, I know what happened,” one of them said, pulling out his phone. “Looks like he went home to get married. Check this out…” He showed them his social media feed. Just moments ago, Liam had posted a nine-photo collage of wedding pictures with his old flame, Anna, including a shot of their marriage certificate. I pulled out my own phone. His feed was blank. He’d blocked me. Our last chat was still open, my desperate pleas for him to come home frozen on the screen. I couldn’t lie to myself any longer. Six years of my life, and I had lost everything. It had been three days, and he hadn’t returned a single call or sent a single text. Of course not. He was finally married to the woman he’d never gotten over. Why would he spare a thought for me, the insignificant placeholder? Carrying the funeral portrait of my father into our empty home, it finally hit me. I had no one left in the world. The grief was a tidal wave, and I collapsed, sobbing. My father had made me promise to fly out to Daniel in ten days. To put his mind at ease, I had booked the ticket right there in front of him. I had a week left. This city was haunted by memories of Liam. I needed a new start. The next day, when I went to my father’s office to clear out his things, I finally saw him. Liam was beaming, handing out candy to the other researchers in the department. Everyone else, likely trying to spare my feelings, avoided mentioning my father. Liam, oblivious, just offered me a piece with a guilty smile. “What’s this, wedding candy?” I asked, my voice flat. “Sorry. I don’t eat sugar.” He followed me into my father’s office, speaking as if nothing had happened. “Why isn’t the professor in today? He could have at least told me he was leaving without me. I waited for him for two extra days!” The mention of my father was a fresh stab of pain. This man, who was responsible for his death, who had been off celebrating with Anna, dared to blame my father for leaving him behind. “Shut up, Liam,” I snapped. “How dare you even say his name? You knew he wasn’t well, and you left him alone!” “Don’t you understand? If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t have gone on that trip. He wouldn’t have collapsed with no one there to help him. He would still be alive!” Liam’s face darkened. “That’s enough! I can’t believe you’ve stooped to lying just to pressure me into marriage. Nina, you’ve become disgusting.” “Can you stop being so dramatic? Your father is a grown man. Am I obligated to be his 24/7 babysitter? It’s not like he’s never traveled alone before. What is wrong with you?” Even now, he was full of excuses. My father had treated him like a son. When his family was facing financial ruin and wanted him to drop out of school, my father had paid for his education all the way through his master’s degree. Liam used to joke that he would care for my father in his old age, like a real son. But to please Anna’s mother, he had ignored my father’s desperate calls for help. I had seen the call log on Dad’s phone. Ten missed calls to Liam, right when he collapsed. Not one was answered. “I wish I had never met you,” I whispered. Then my father wouldn’t have worked himself to the bone for him, and he wouldn’t have died with the regret of never seeing me married. Seeing the raw grief on my face, a flicker of guilt crossed Liam’s eyes. His voice softened. “Nina, I know it was wrong of me not to come back with him. But you don’t have to blow this out of proportion and use it to erase the six years we had together.” “Tell you what,” he offered. “I’ll go over to his house tonight, have a few drinks with him, and apologize in person. How about that?” Before the words were even out of his mouth, his phone rang. He glanced at me and stepped away to answer. A sweet, delicate voice drifted from the receiver. “Liam, honey, I just burned my hand cooking. It hurts so much…” Instantly, a look of panic washed over Liam’s face. “Okay, baby, turn off the stove and just wait for me in the living room. I’m on my way.” He rushed off without another word to me. The promise to apologize to my father was forgotten in an instant. When I arrived at my apartment, the one I had bought after graduation so we could be closer, I found Anna on a stepladder, taping a large, red “Double Happiness” character—a traditional wedding decoration—to the door. She saw me and a triumphant smirk played on her lips. She deliberately smoothed out the garish symbol. “You must be Nina. Liam’s told me about you. Thanks for taking care of him all these years.” “Oh,” she added, gesturing towards the curb. “By the way, I cleaned out some of your old stuff. See if there’s anything you still want.” I followed her gaze. All of my belongings were piled next to the trash cans. Our matching mugs, our toothbrushes, my clothes, the throw pillows from the sofa… “Anna, who are you talking to?” Liam poked his head out of the door, an apron tied around his waist. When he saw me, his expression shifted rapidly. He gave a weak, awkward laugh. “Anna couldn’t find a place yet, so she’s just staying here for a little while. Don’t get the wrong idea.” I couldn’t believe his audacity. He brought her into my home. “You tell me not to get the wrong idea while you’re married to her? Liam, what am I to you?” My heart felt like it was being beaten with a dull hammer, a slow, aching throb. He hesitated, glancing quickly at Anna. “It was just to make her mom happy. It was her only wish for her sixtieth birthday. I couldn’t exactly say no…” So you could crush my father’s dying wish and trample all over my heart instead? The thought plunged me into an icy sea. “Liam, have you ever considered what this makes me? A homewrecker. The other woman. How am I supposed to live with that?” Anna, who had been standing silently by, stepped forward and tugged on my sleeve, her eyes wide and pitiful. “Nina, I never wanted to compete with you for anything.” “We really only did it to make my mom happy. We’ll find a way to clear things up later.” “I’m so sorry! Please, don’t be angry with Liam.” Her face was pale, but behind the damsel-in-distress act, her eyes glinted with a possessive, triumphant light. I yanked my arm away. “Don’t bother with the theatrics. Your emotional blackmail won’t work on me.” Tears suddenly welled in her eyes. She looked down, as if deeply hurt. “Nina, are you blaming me?” “How could you say that? Weren’t you the one who used your father to emotionally blackmail Liam into dating you in the first place?” she whispered, leaning in so only I could hear. “Who are you trying to fool with this holier-than-thou act?” You can trash my feelings, but you will not slander my father. SLAP! My body moved before my mind could catch up. I slapped her across the face. Liam lunged forward, shielding Anna and shoving me back with brutal force. “Nina, what the hell are you doing?” “If you have a problem, take it up with me! Anna is innocent! She was just trying to be a good daughter.” “Liam, you’re the ungrateful one!” I screamed, my voice raw. “My father was so good to you, and you didn’t even care if he lived or died!” A crack appeared in Liam’s composure. He seemed to waver for a second. Anna, however, stepped forward to defend him. “Nina, why do you keep bringing up ancient history? Besides, your father only sponsored Liam because he saw his potential. Even without your father, Liam would have been successful.” “You knew he loved someone else, but you forced yourself on him, trying to use your father’s kindness to trap him with guilt. How is that any better?” When Liam’s family was poor, when his parents wanted him to quit school and work in a factory, my father had been the one to step in. I remember Liam on his knees, thanking my father, promising to repay his kindness for the rest of his life. “Is that how you see it, too?” I asked, staring at Liam. He turned his head away, his silence a confession. I didn’t want to waste another second on this disgusting pair. It would only make me more of a joke. But they weren’t done with me. “Nina,” Anna said, her voice syrupy sweet. “Regardless of anything else, Liam and I are married now. It’s probably not appropriate for you to keep living here…” I pointed a shaking finger at Liam, who was still looking at the ground. “Didn’t he tell you? I own this apartment. I should be calling the police on you for trespassing, and you have the nerve to try and kick me out?” “Get out,” I snarled. “Both of you, get out!” Liam glanced at Anna’s shocked face, then tried to placate me. “Nina, you don’t have to be so aggressive. Anna is just staying for a little while. She’ll move out as soon as she finds a place.” “You two are certainly good at playing the victim while you squat in my home,” I shot back. “Well, I’m not having it. Get out. Now!” His face flushed with humiliation. “Nina, does your father know you act like this? Maybe I should have a word with him tomorrow and set him straight.” “Good idea,” I said, my voice dripping with venom. “Why don’t you run headfirst into a wall right now? Maybe you’ll catch up to him in the afterlife!” He exploded. “You’re unbelievable, Nina! People who curse their own father deserve to go to hell!” Anna pretended to intervene. “Nina, don’t fight with Liam. It’s all my fault. I never should have come back…” I tried to pull my arm away from her grip, and she stumbled backward, tumbling down the short flight of steps and passing out. Liam rushed to her side, scooping her up into his arms. Before he left, he shot me a look of pure hatred. “Nina, if anything happens to Anna, I will never forgive you.” Six years of a secret love, and all I got was “I will never forgive you.” How pathetic. I went inside, and the scene that greeted me was almost unrecognizable. A giant wedding portrait of Liam and Anna hung on the wall behind the sofa. The closet was full of Anna’s clothes. The bedroom was a disaster zone, with a torn pair of black stockings and a maid’s costume hanging off the bedpost. An open box of condoms on the nightstand was half-empty. A wave of nausea washed over me. I ran outside and called a moving company that very night, telling them to throw out every single piece of furniture in the apartment. I didn’t see Liam for the next few days, but I heard plenty about him from the junior researchers. “The annual academic symposium is coming up. Liam must be really confident this year. He’s been taking his new wife on vacation all week. Look at these pictures…” I glanced at the social media post he’d blocked me from seeing. The places they were visiting… they were from the itinerary I had planned. The route was identical to the one in the detailed honeymoon guide I had spent months creating for us. That evening, Liam called me. “Nina, I can’t get ahold of the professor. He was supposed to give me that research paper he was working on. Can you get it for me?” “In your dreams, Liam. That’s my father’s work. Why would I give it to you?” I hung up before he could reply.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “581052”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1-9

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “580637”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was the real daughter of this family, and my life’s ambitions were simple: lie down, binge-watch shows, and order takeout. When my sister, the one they’d raised as their own, found out I was back, she was determined to prove her superiority. We each took over one of the family’s failing subsidiary companies at the same time. She publicly mocked me, “Some people are just born useless.” The words had barely left her mouth when a breaking news alert flashed across the TV. An old factory I owned, a forgotten piece of property, was being rezoned by the city as part of a core development project. The compulsory purchase payout: one billion dollars. 1. “Nora, just look at yourself!” My mother, Eleanor, pointed a trembling finger at my nose, her voice shaking with rage. “Can’t you learn a thing or two from Isabelle? Show some ambition!” “If you had half of Isabelle’s drive, do you think the Ashworths would need to be sucking up to the Lee family?” Standing beside her was my sister, Isabelle, the product of a lifetime of elite education. She was wearing a designer suit, her makeup flawless, radiating an aura of competence. A graduate of an Ivy League school and fluent in four languages, she was a goddess in everyone’s eyes. And then there was me, in a baggy T-shirt and shorts, about to order a bucket of spicy crawfish. My mother had dragged me out of bed for this business gala, all to pave the way for Isabelle’s networking. She stared at my T-shirt, her brow furrowed in disgust. “You’re going to wear that? You’ll be the laughingstock of the city! You’ll shame the Ashworth name!” Isabelle glided over at the perfect moment, her voice a soft, gentle murmur. In her hand, however, she held a gown she no longer wore. “Mother, don’t be angry. Nora, I’ve only worn this Dior once. You can wear it. Please, don’t embarrass the family.” Her tone was pure charity, as if she were donating to the poor. I couldn’t be bothered to respond, but my mother shoved me into a room and forced me into the ill-fitting dress anyway. At the gala, Isabelle was the center of attention, moving through the crowd with effortless grace. She could charm guests with fluent French and hold her own in conversations with business titans, a glass of champagne always perfectly poised in her hand. I, on the other hand, just wanted to find a dark corner and disappear. A greasy-looking man with a predatory smile drifted towards me, holding a drink. “You must be the other Miss Ashworth. I’ve heard so much about you. Care to join me for a drink?” I looked at him and asked, in all seriousness, “Does this drink come with a side of crawfish?” The entire room fell silent. The man’s face turned the color of raw liver. Isabelle elegantly swept in to “rescue” me, her words a masterclass in public humiliation disguised as an apology. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Davies. My sister doesn’t know any better. She grew up in the countryside, you see. She’s not used to… all this. Please, don’t hold it against her.” My father, Richard Ashworth’s, face was a thundercloud. He dragged me home, cleared his throat, and slammed two files onto the coffee table. “These are two of the group’s subsidiaries, both on the brink of bankruptcy. You’ll each take one. You have one month. Whoever can turn their company around will prove they are more qualified to…” He didn’t finish, but his meaning was crystal clear. His gaze softened as he looked at Isabelle, full of hope, then shifted to me, his voice turning to ice as he added, “I know what Isabelle is capable of. But you? What exactly do you bring to this family?” Isabelle picked up one of the files, a confident, predatory smile playing on her lips. “Father, Mother, don’t worry. I won’t let you down.” She shot me a triumphant, challenging look. I shrugged, picked up the other file without even bothering to read the company’s name, and stuffed it in my pocket. “Right. Got it.” My apathy drove them to the brink. “Nora! What is that attitude?” my mother shrieked. “Do you have any idea how much Isabelle has sacrificed for this family? She’s out there securing investments, chasing leads, working herself to the bone! And you? All you do is lie around and order takeout!” Her voice was shrill and grating. I was too tired to argue. I just turned and went back to my room. 2. The next day, I went to see my so-called company. It was a dilapidated office with a few scattered desks and a dozen employees who looked like they’d lost the will to live. The company had five hundred thousand dollars left in its accounts. I called in the accountant. “Divide this five hundred thousand among all the employees based on their years of service. Consider it a severance package and bonus.” The accountant stared at me, bewildered. “Ms. Ashworth, this is… this is all the liquid cash the company has left. If we pay this out, we’re officially bankrupt!” “Then let it go bankrupt,” I said, my tone final. That afternoon, the company was officially dissolved. I dusted off my hands and went home to continue my grand project of doing absolutely nothing. That evening, Isabelle returned, a storm of energy and ambition. Her heels clicked an aggressive rhythm against the hardwood floor. She kicked my door open and threw a financial report at my face. “Nora! You useless piece of trash! I closed a million-dollar deal today! And you? You dissolved the entire company! You are absolutely hopeless!” I slowly tore open a bag of potato chips. The crunch was satisfying. “Oh. Congrats.” “You—” She was so furious her chest heaved, the hand pointing at me trembling. “The Ashworth family has no room for a degenerate failure like you! Just you wait!” I watched her storm out, then popped another chip into my mouth. Why fight it? Lying down is so much more comfortable. The next morning, I was ripped from my sleep by a commotion. My mother, Eleanor, barged in, followed by a few of the house staff. “Throw all of this junk food out! And these sloppy clothes! Get rid of them!” I sat up, frowning. “Mom, what are you doing?” “What am I doing? I’m teaching you how to be a respectable human being!” She stood with her hands on her hips, her face a mask of disappointment. “Your sister was up until three in the morning working for this family, and you? You sleep in like a bum! Starting today, all your credit cards are cancelled. You’ll get a thousand dollars a month for living expenses. Let’s see how you manage to be a slob on that!” I watched in mild annoyance as the staff tossed my beloved snacks into trash bags. Arguing was exhausting, so I kept my mouth shut. Once they were done with their rampage, I slowly got up, got ready, and received a call from an unknown number. It was a former employee from yesterday, a man named Leo. “Ms. Ashworth, thank you! Thank you so much! My wife is sick and we desperately needed the money. What you gave us… you saved my family!” His voice was thick with tears, overflowing with gratitude. He said the former employees had pooled their money and wanted to treat me to dinner. I declined. I wasn’t looking for credit, and honestly, going out to eat sounded like a lot of work. But somehow, word of this got back to Isabelle. At dinner that night, she started in with her signature passive-aggression. “Well, well, if it isn’t our great philanthropist. I hear you used the company’s last dime to buy loyalty. You’re really something, Nora. You’d rather throw money at strangers than lift a finger to help your own family.” My father snorted. “You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. And now you’re trying to buy a reputation? If that half-million had gone to your sister, she could have turned it into a real project. In your hands, it just went down the drain.” I sipped my soup, saying nothing. My silence only egged Isabelle on. She pulled a cheap-looking cloth tote bag from her purse and tossed it in front of me. “I figured since your cards are cancelled, you probably can’t afford a new bag. I saw this at a street stall today and thought of you. Twenty bucks. You’re welcome.” The look in her eyes was one you’d give a beggar on the street. I looked at the tote bag. It had a Peppa Pig print on it. I found it strangely amusing. “Thanks, sis.” I took it without any fuss. It would be perfect for grocery shopping tomorrow. Her face turned pale with rage. She didn’t even finish her dinner before storming upstairs. My mother sighed, her heart aching for her precious daughter. “What a tragedy. Isabelle is such a wonderful girl, and she’s stuck with a sister like you.” I quietly finished my food. Funny how easily the word “sister” rolled off her tongue. They all seemed to forget that Isabelle and I shared no blood. 3. In the days that followed, Isabelle was a woman possessed. She left early, came home late, and was in a constant whirlwind of meetings and business dinners. Her company, I heard, was thriving, quickly securing second and third rounds of funding. As for me, I took my Peppa Pig tote bag to the farmer’s market every day. With my allowance slashed, I had learned the fine art of haggling with old folks over the price of potatoes. One day, while I was in a tense negotiation over a particularly fine-looking russet, a man in a sharp suit found me. It was Leo. He looked much better than the last time I’d seen him. With him was a middle-aged man. “Ms. Ashworth, let me introduce you. This is my cousin, Mr. Wallace. He’s in the construction materials business.” His cousin handed me a business card, his demeanor polite and respectful. “Ms. Ashworth, it’s an honor. Leo told me what you did. You’re a person of great integrity. I’m looking to expand my warehouse space, and I heard you happen to own an abandoned old factory. I was wondering if you might be interested in selling?” I blinked. An old factory? Then I remembered. It was a birthday gift from my grandfather when I turned eighteen. He’d held my hand and said, “Nora, you have a kind heart, not like the others. This piece of land will bring you good fortune one day.” But the place was out in the middle of nowhere. It had been deserted for years. I’d almost forgotten it existed. “That place… is it worth anything?” “Absolutely!” Mr. Wallace’s eyes lit up. “It may be remote, but the lot is huge, which is exactly what I need. I’m prepared to offer you three million dollars. What do you think?” Three million. To me, it was an astronomical sum. Leo was an honest man, and his cousin seemed trustworthy. I didn’t hesitate. On the day we signed the contract, I made sure to bring my Peppa Pig tote bag, which held my ID and birth certificate. The first thing I did after getting the money was go to the mall and buy a mountain of snacks. Then I took a cab home. When I walked into the living room with my arms full of bags, the three of them—my mother, father, and Isabelle—stared at me with suspicion. “Nora! Where did you get the money for all this?” my mother demanded. “Oh, I sold that old factory grandpa gave me,” I replied nonchalantly. “You sold it?” Isabelle shrieked. “You actually sold it? For how much?” “Three million.” “Three million?” Isabelle burst out laughing, as if it were the funniest joke she’d ever heard. “Nora, are you an idiot? That factory might be remote, but the land alone is worth at least five million! And you sold it for three? You are the definition of a squanderer!” She looked genuinely heartbroken, as if the factory had been hers. My father’s face was grim. “Reckless! Why didn’t you discuss a family matter with us first? Three million… you’ve been swindled!” I looked at their indignant faces and suddenly felt very tired of it all. “It’s sold. What’s the point of saying all this now?” I didn’t want to waste any more breath on them. I just took my snacks and headed upstairs. Behind me, I heard Isabelle’s cold, contemptuous laugh. “Useless is as useless does. You could hand her a winning lottery ticket and she’d probably use it as a napkin.” 4. A month later, it was time for the Ashworth family’s formal dinner. It was a family dinner in name, but in reality, it was a victory party for Isabelle. Her subsidiary, they said, had tripled its market value in a single month, becoming a small miracle in the industry. At the party, Isabelle wore a stunning red gown, her chin held high as she accepted fawning compliments from all our relatives. “Isabelle is just brilliant! A true Ashworth!” “Yes, not like some people who just take up space and throw away money.” All eyes darted subtly in my direction. I was in my usual uniform of a plain white T-shirt and jeans, sitting in a corner, completely engrossed in dismantling a king crab leg. It tasted good, if a little salty. Isabelle, holding a glass of champagne, glided over to me, looking down her nose. “Nora. I hear you’ve been living quite comfortably off the money from the factory sale.” I nodded. “It’s been great. I’ve achieved snack-sovereignty.” She let out a short, sharp laugh, just loud enough for the whole room to hear. “Some people are just born useless. You can give them a mountain of gold, and they’ll waste it all. You can give them an opportunity, and they’ll destroy it with their own hands.” She paused, the disdain in her eyes utterly undisguised. “A month ago, we were given the same starting line. I turned my company into a ten-million-dollar asset. You dismantled yours. And now, for a measly three million dollars, you’ve sold the most precious thing grandpa ever left you. Tell me, Nora, what is the point of you?” The room went silent. Everyone was watching me, waiting for the punchline of the joke that was my life. My mother’s face was a canvas of embarrassment and humiliation. She looked at me as if I were her mortal enemy. My father’s expression was just as dark. I slowly wiped my hands, looked up, and was about to say something. Just then, on the large screen in the center of the hall, the financial news program was interrupted by a breaking news bulletin. “We have an update on the city’s urban development strategy. The municipal government has officially decided to rezone the southern suburban district into a core development area for the construction of a new technology hub…” The newscaster’s voice was crisp and clear, echoing through the silent hall. On the screen, a massive zoning map appeared. A bright red circle was drawn emphatically in the center of the map. That spot… I narrowed my eyes. It looked familiar. The smirk hadn’t yet faded from Isabelle’s face. She followed my gaze and scoffed, “What are you looking at? You think a national project like this has anything to do with a failure like you?” The words had just left her mouth when the newscaster’s voice swelled with excitement. “According to our sources, the compensation standards for this rezoning will be the highest in the city’s history. Notably, the former Starlight Machinery plant, located at the very heart of the core zone, is projected to have a compulsory purchase payout of up to… one billion dollars!” Starlight Machinery. Wasn’t that the name of the factory I just sold? The entire banquet hall was plunged into a silence so deep it was deafening. Every single pair of eyes in the room snapped towards me. The smile on Isabelle’s face froze solid.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “580636”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Before my father died, he left me four sealed envelopes, one to be opened every three years. The first told me not to study medicine. So I enrolled in the police academy. In three years, I earned two commendations for valor. The hospital where I was meant to begin my residency was destroyed in an explosion. The second told me not to stay in the country. So I transferred to an international law enforcement agency. In three years, I took down five major drug lords. The house I owned back home was blown up by my enemies. The third told me not to marry a comrade. I hesitated. But I chose my partner, the woman I’d gone through hell and back with. In the three years after our wedding, she took three bullets for me and shielded me from a dozen knife attacks. The day she found out she was pregnant, she told me: “I’ve already scheduled the abortion. Jasper and I have a son.” Jasper… my protégé. With trembling hands, I opened the fourth envelope. It said: 【DO NOT GET DIVORCED】 1 “What did you just say?” When Jocelyn Kane uttered those words so casually, I thought I’d misheard. “Is this some kind of joke?” She tossed a stack of photos onto the table. A little boy, looking so much like her, was cradled in her arms. Ninety-nine photos, all taken from a father’s perspective. The child looked just like him. The way she gazed at the boy was so tender, so full of love. They were both smiling, a perfect picture of a happy mother and child. “Remember that year I was on assignment overseas? And Jasper took a year’s leave of absence?” Jocelyn lit a slim cigarette, her movements unhurried. “He was with me. For the birth.” I snatched the pregnancy report from the table and threw it at her face. “He was my protégé! You slept with my goddamn protégé!” Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed. “Is there a problem?” “When did it start?” “Our wedding night. A funny coincidence, really. I was drunk and mistook him for you. He was good in bed. I developed a taste for it.” She picked up the crumpled report and tossed it into the trash. “And I promised him I wouldn’t have another man’s child.” “Jocelyn!” I lunged, my movements fast and lethal. She intercepted my strike with ease. After a few exchanges, she exploited an opening, spinning behind me with fluid grace. A sharp kick buckled the back of my knee. “I’ve been more than fair to you these past three years, Shane. Don’t push it.” I stumbled forward, catching myself on the wine bar. “I’ll tell you after we’re done here.” She turned to leave. “Stay where you are!” I threw a punch. She spun back to block it, and a blade slid from her sleeve. A flicker of shock went through me as the knife sliced across my chest. A searing pain tore through my pectoral muscle. She used the opening to kick my knee again, forcing me to the ground. She wiped her hands clean. “Be careful, or you might just die by my hand.” My head hit the corner of the table. Blood dripped into my left eye as I glared at her retreating back, the sound of the slamming door echoing in the room. Now I knew why my father had warned me not to marry a comrade. It didn’t matter that she was my partner for six years. That we had faced death together, that she had saved my life more times than I could count. Betrayal is betrayal. The fourth envelope was stained with my blood. The words DO NOT GET DIVORCED were a glaring, mocking red. I knew my father was always right. But this woman… I couldn’t stay married to this woman. Shaking the blood from my hand, I staggered to my feet and dialed my divorce lawyer. 2 I was in the middle of discussing the terms with my lawyer when Jocelyn stormed in with her people. She snatched the freshly drafted agreement and tore it to shreds. “Let’s go.” She grabbed my arm, her grip like steel. I twisted out of her hold, forcing her back. “You really intend to divorce me?” “That’s right.” Jocelyn nodded, then turned her cold gaze on the lawyer. “If you dare to type another word for him, you’ll regret it.” The lawyer’s face went pale. He stood, gave a nervous bow, and practically scurried out of the room. “Jocelyn!” I roared, my frustration boiling over. She smirked. “Come on, husband.” I ignored her. I had already memorized the terms. I went to the computer, added the final clauses, and hit print. “Shane Maddox!” She gripped my hand, trying to stop me, but I shoved her away and pressed the button. “Sign it, Ms. Kane.” She snapped the pen I offered her in two. With a sweep of her arm, she sent everything on the desk crashing to the floor. “Don’t you understand? The only reason you’re alive right now is because you’re married to me!” I frowned. “If you divorce me, you won’t even know what killed you!” She said it with such furious desperation, for a second it felt like we were on a dangerous mission, like I’d just charged in without my vest to take down a target, and she was tearing into me for being so reckless with my life. I pushed her away. “Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do?” “Your wife!” A sharp blow to the back of my neck. Darkness. When I came to, I was on the bed, my clothes in disarray. Because of the pregnancy, her usual fire was missing, but there was a searing pain on my shoulder. A fresh bite mark. She stood over me. “Don’t mention divorce again. Anything else, you can have your way.” She turned and walked out. I grabbed a wine glass from the nightstand and hurled it at her back. It shattered against the doorframe. She only paused for a fraction of a second before leaving. I scrubbed furiously at the lipstick smudges on my skin, only managing to smear them into a red haze. I gritted my teeth in rage. Not long after she left, priceless, one-of-a-kind auction items began arriving at the apartment, each one worth a lifetime’s savings for most people. “Ms. Kane said that if there is anything else you desire, sir, you only need to ask.” I didn’t even glance at the treasures. I could earn my own damn fortune. These things were no comfort. I needed an outlet. My protégé, Jasper, had vanished along with Jocelyn. I drove to my private firing range. “Change the targets. I want pictures of Jocelyn Kane and Jasper White.” 3 As I was setting up the range, my instincts screamed. I snapped my head to the side. A bullet grazed my hair and slammed into the reinforced concrete wall just inches away. I stared at the deep crater in the wall and spun around. “Who’s there?” A loud laugh echoed through the space. Jasper stood there, holding an assault rifle, aiming it right at me. “Sorry, boss. Ran out of targets. Mind standing in for a bit?” Beside him, Jocelyn sat calmly in a chair, dressed in full combat gear, watching the show. “You brought him here?” This range was mine. I had only ever given Jocelyn access. This was our place. We trained here, ran drills, even had dates here. It was our secret base. “Get him out of here,” I seethed. Jocelyn just smiled at me. “Jasper’s not a great shot, and you’re fast. He won’t hit you. As his mentor, you should give him some practice.” “Jocelyn—” Before I could say more, Jasper opened fire. A spray of bullets stitched across the wall. I dove, rolled, and scrambled for cover, using every evasive maneuver I knew. When it was over, the wall was riddled with deep gouges. I looked up, breathing heavily, at Jasper, who had emptied his magazine. He clicked his tongue. “This is boring. I can’t hit him.” Jocelyn rose from her chair and walked toward him with a smile. “You know what your biggest problem is?” She stood beside him, lining up the shot, her head tilted alongside his. Panic seized me. “Jocelyn!” “Focus on this point.” Her index finger covered his as they squeezed the trigger together. Jocelyn’s marksmanship was even better than mine. Even with a target moving erratically, I had nowhere to run. A bullet screamed past my cheek and exploded against the wall behind me. Blood dripped onto the floor. Jasper’s eyes lit up. Jocelyn smiled as he reloaded, taking aim at me again. This time, every bullet was a near miss, tearing through the air, grazing my skin. My knees gave out and I sank to the ground, gasping for breath. Jocelyn watched, her arms crossed. Jasper shouted, “Stay still, boss! Or the next one might just go through your head!” I pulled the dagger strapped to my thigh. I got to my feet and strode towards him. “Boss, I said don’t move!” I ignored him. Jasper took aim. Anyone trained by Jocelyn saw a massive improvement in their skills. I dodged the first shot, picking up my pace. Jasper started to panic. A hailstorm of bullets rained down on me. A few grazed my arm, leaving deep, bleeding furrows that exposed the bone. It only made me move faster. “Either you kill me right now, or I kill you.” The moment he aimed for my heart, I vaulted over a table, launching a flying side kick that sent him and his rifle crashing to the ground. “You lose.” I pinned him by the throat, the dagger raised high. “Aah!” As Jasper screamed in terror, I felt the cold press of metal against the back of my head. The Desert Eagle. The one I gave her. “Let him go.” 4 I’ve had enemy guns pointed at me more times than I can count. But this was the first time it was one of my own. “Jocelyn, are you really going to kill me?” Her voice was ice. “Try me.” I laughed. “Alright.” I plunged the dagger into Jasper’s shoulder. BANG! The bullet tore through my chest from back to front. In ten years of service, I’d never been shot. Because she was always there, standing in front of me. Now, the only gunshot wound I had… was from her. Jasper scrambled out from under me and ran to Jocelyn’s side. I coughed up a mouthful of blood. Jocelyn pulled Jasper away, turning to speak into her comms. “Med team to the firing range.” 5 Jocelyn had spared my life. The bullet missed my heart by a fraction of an inch. It didn’t even puncture a lung. But the recovery was long. When I finally woke up, the medical staff was gone. Only Jocelyn was there, watching over me. I flinched away from her outstretched hand. “Are you angry?” She settled for tucking the blanket around me instead. “I was worried about you.” I didn’t speak. “Shane, I was wrong. Whatever you want, just ask.” “Anything?” “Anything.” “Alright.” I sat up. “First, put on this blindfold.” She obeyed, letting me tie the silk ribbon around her eyes. I took her hand and placed a pen in it. “You want me to sign something?” she asked, an eyebrow raised. “My assets?” “Afraid you’ll miss them?” She laughed. “Of course not. Whatever you want, Shane. I’ll sign it all. You can have everything.” “Good.” I guided her hand to the signature line of the divorce papers. “Let me guess, fifty billion? A hundred?” I just smiled. She signed her name without hesitation. The moment the pen lifted from the paper, she went rigid. She ripped off the blindfold. “I knew it.” She waved the papers in my face. “Don’t play these games with me!” She threw the agreement towards the trash can. “Jocelyn!” I lunged for it, but she blocked my path. “Is there nothing else you want? You’re that determined to divorce me?” “Yes! Now move!” She grabbed my face, forcing me to look at her. “Divorcing me will get you killed!” I froze. “You think I don’t know what’s in the fourth envelope?” she asked with a bitter smile. “Your father was trying to protect you. He doesn’t want you to die, and neither do I.” “I don’t need your protection!” I shoved her hard. The next second, she pulled me into a brutal kiss. “Jo—mmph!” I struggled, pushing against her. My hand caught on her shirt, and as it tore, I saw it—the ugly, puckered scar of a through-and-through bullet wound she’d taken for me, surrounded by a roadmap of countless other scars. My resolve faltered. Instead of throwing her off, I bit down hard on her lip. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth before she finally let go. We were both a mess, panting as we stared at each other. She wiped the blood from her mouth, her composure seemingly restored. My voice was cold. “Find some time. Get rid of the baby.” A medical report landed in my lap. An abortion. “Did you really think I would keep your child?” I looked at the date on the form. It was from the day of our first big fight. I froze. Then, a slow, cold smile spread across my face. “Well done, my dear wife.” Her fists clenched. She surged forward, cupping my face in her hands, her expression fierce. “Promise me. You will never mention divorce again. We are going to be husband and wife for the rest of our lives.” A frantic pounding on the door. Jocelyn, who had been about to kiss me again, froze. The annoyance in her eyes was palpable. “Get out!” “Jocelyn!” It was Jasper’s voice. He burst through the door. “Jumper… Jumper’s gone!” 6 Jocelyn couldn’t believe it. She doted on that child. He had a security detail patrolling 24/7. Who could have possibly taken him? Jasper’s red-rimmed eyes shot to me. Jocelyn’s gaze followed. “It was you. You leaked his location.” She frowned. “I did not.” “Only you knew about him! Only you knew your wife’s every move! If you have a problem, you take it up with me! Why would you hurt a child?” “Enough!” I gasped, the pain in my chest flaring. “What’s the point of throwing baseless accusations? We need to figure out how to get him back!” Jasper choked out, “The people who took him… they’re the boss’s enemies…” Jocelyn went still. I understood immediately. We both moved at the same time. But I forgot about the blade hidden in her sleeve. In an instant, she had me pinned against the balcony railing, the knife pressed to my throat. “Shane, if Jumper dies, I have no reason to live. If you won’t agree to the exchange, we die together, right here, right now.” Everyone said Jocelyn Kane was heartless, except when it came to me. But even I didn’t know that her child with Jasper was her entire world. I stopped struggling. “Fine. But we’re getting a divorce.” Her hand wavered. “Deal.” I smiled. Turns out, getting a divorce wasn’t so hard after all… 7 Ever since we signed the papers, Jasper seemed a lot less frantic. Jocelyn, however, was in a rush. The moment my signature was on the page, she had me tied up, thrown in a car, and delivered to the kidnappers. She had shielded me from their bullets and blades countless times. Now, she was handing me over to them herself. The little boy was returned to her arms. “Jumper!” Her eyes were red as she clutched him, pressing a firm kiss to his forehead. She didn’t even notice as Jasper shoved me towards our enemies. I was dragged before their leader. The woman’s upper face was hidden in shadow, but her red lips curved into a smile. “Shane Maddox. After you killed so many of my people, I never thought you’d end up in my hands.” I just smiled back. “Still not going to untie me?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “580635”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel