Under my mother’s strict discipline, I was successfully admitted to Harvel University. On the day the results were announced, everyone praised my mother’s educational methods, believing she would enjoy a happy life. A reporter came to interview her, and she shared her educational experiences without any humility. She said, “Only through strict discipline can a child achieve success.” The whole city was celebrating for me. However, I left a farewell letter and stood on the rooftop. I thought, “Mom, you wanted me to go to Harvel University, and I got accepted. Please let me go.” My mother held a doctorate, and my father had a master’s degree from a prestigious university. After I was born, I could speak at seven months and walk at eight months. Everyone praised me as a naturally smart child, saying that with proper nurturing, I would surely get into Harvel University. My mother thought the same. She even used Harvel as my name, naming me Harvel Walsh. She was very dedicated to this goal. By the time I was three, I still couldn’t write well. I went to kindergarten during the day and came home at night to recite past presidential speeches. While my peers played freely in the yard, I envied them, always peering longingly through the window. When my mother noticed, she had the curtains drawn, cutting off my desire to see the outside world completely. She would hit my palms with a stick, her face full of disdain. “These kids are already losing at the starting line and will achieve nothing great in the future. You cannot be led astray by them.” Relatives advised my mother to have another child, saying such good genes shouldn’t be wasted. But my mother firmly refused. “All my time and energy must be devoted to Harvel. She is meant to go to Harvel University; she cannot be distracted.” Then she turned to me and said, “I’ve sacrificed so much and pinned all my hopes on you. You must succeed in your application.” When I started elementary school, my mother’s methods became even stricter. I had to complete extra exercises she assigned until midnight, barely getting enough sleep. I often fell asleep over my work. My mother would stand behind me and wake me with a thin stick. “All you do is sleep. You’re not allowed to sleep until these exercises are finished.” In pain, I would tear up but dared not resist. Over time, my mental state deteriorated. Relatives couldn’t bear to watch anymore and said my mother was stifling my natural talent and would drive me crazy sooner or later. My mother was furious, accusing them of being jealous of her genius daughter. Relatives told my father, who worked far away, but he was powerless to intervene. He could only advise relatives to mind their own business. Later, the relatives stopped visiting, saying our family was crazy and anyone who got involved would be unlucky. But my mother was very satisfied with the situation. Every day, she stood behind me with a stick, watching me do my exercises. “Now that no one dares to disturb you, let’s see how you can slack off.” The stack of exercise books beside my desk kept growing higher. I felt exhausted. After graduating from elementary school, I entered the best junior high school in the city. In this new environment, no one knew me. Because of that, I made my first friend. Her name was Melinda Acosta, and she was my deskmate. Melinda was cheerful and struck up a conversation with me right away, sharing her favorite snacks. I was thrilled and reluctant to eat the snacks she gave me, keeping them hidden in my backpack. After school, I eagerly gave the snacks to my mother and told her about my first friend. But my mother turned around and threw the snacks into the trash, scolding me for being distracted by trivial things. I lowered my head and dared not speak further. She then asked about the girl’s grades. I answered honestly, “She’s at the bottom of the class.” My mother’s expression darkened, and she said nothing more. The next day, Melinda refused to play with me and even asked the teacher for a seat change. I was confused and went to ask her. Melinda shoved me hard and shouted, “Your mom called my house and said that a poor student like me doesn’t deserve to be friends with you and will only drag you down!” The whole class looked over, whispering among themselves. “What’s so great about good grades that you look down on others?” “Is her mom crazy? What’s wrong with having poor grades? How can she insult others?” I was so upset that tears streamed down my face as I walked away silently. Returning to my seat, I found that the desk and chair next to me were gone. The homeroom teacher awkwardly told me, “Your mother insisted that you sit alone, saying that other students would affect your studies.” I kept my head down and said I understood. From that day on, no one dared to come near me, afraid of being warned by my mother for talking to me. I ate alone every day, attended classes alone, and went home alone. Every night, I did exercises until late into the night. In every exam, I was at the top of the grade. My mother proudly proclaimed it everywhere. She said her daughter was indeed born to go to Harvel University. I bitterly thought, “Is this talent?” I touched the thick calluses on my hands. They were the marks left by countless exercises. Later, I entered the top high school in the province with the highest score in the city. I broke the record for the highest score ever and was awarded ten thousand dollars. My mother gleefully collected the money. Many of her colleagues came to ask her for advice on how to raise such an outstanding child. My mother called each one to share her experience. “I think it’s still about talent. Both my husband and I graduated from prestigious universities, so how could our child be any worse? “If there’s no talent, then it’s all about effort. My Harvel does ten worksheets a day without fail. “No talent and no effort? Then use punishment. Discipline produces devoted children and talented ones.” She posted a video on her Twitter account. The title was [Strict Mothers Are Good Mothers] In the video, when I got a question wrong, she hit my back with a stick. The post was shared by her colleagues and unexpectedly made the front page of a small but prominent newspaper’s website. The headline was: [Will Children Raised by Strict Mothers Become Successful or Rebel?] My mother firmly commented: [Of course they will become successful. Harvel has never defied me.] But soon, my actions completely embarrassed her.

At the top high school in the province, I was surrounded by classmates who were both intelligent and hardworking. I found it increasingly difficult to keep up with my studies. In the first monthly exam, my grades plummeted—I fell to 30th place in the year. My mother couldn’t accept this. She stormed into the school and caused a huge scene. She insisted there must have been a mistake in the grading process and demanded a recheck. “Harvel has been a top student all her life. How could she possibly rank so low? You must have taken bribes and deliberately marked her down!” The teachers were frustrated but helpless. I felt incredibly embarrassed and tried to tug at my mother’s sleeve, hoping she would leave. But she slapped me hard across the face, her expression twisted with rage. “Harvel, you’d better pray they really made a mistake, or you’ll be in big trouble!” I clutched my face and retreated to a corner. The teachers tried to persuade her, saying that no matter what, she shouldn’t lay hands on a child. But my mother wouldn’t listen. She was adamant about the recheck. Unable to stop her, the teachers had to call in the principal. The principal asked the teachers to pull out my exam papers and regrade them right in front of her. The results were the same. My mother’s face turned dark. Without a word, she dragged me home roughly, without even asking for leave. Back home, in that study with the sealed-off windows, I endured a beating worse than ever before. “Harvel, is this how you repay me? You think I can’t control you anymore? If you keep scoring this low, how do you expect to get into Harvel University?” I curled up in the corner, shutting my eyes against the pain. All the wounds were on my back; when I returned to school, no one would see them. I had become infamous at school. Everyone was talking about how my mother had made a scene. But I had grown numb to it. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. The teachers were concerned and subtly asked if I needed help. I shook my head and forced a smile. I knew no one could help me. For the first time, I skipped class and wandered to the pond behind the school. The pond was filled with thick lotus leaves, and the blooming lotuses were beautiful and mesmerizing. I stood there, lost in thought, and a dangerous idea flashed through my mind. I thought, “If I jump in, no one will find me. It would be a way to end all this suffering.” I didn’t even want my mother to have my body. I pressed my lips together and moved closer to the railing. “Woof… woof…” I had one foot over the railing when I suddenly heard a faint bark from the bushes nearby. I stopped and slowly pulled my leg back. I thought, “I should take a look. One last look.” I never had a childhood—only endless practice papers day and night. When I was seven, I dared to ask my mother if we could get a cat or a dog. But she coldly refused. To her, anything that could tempt me was a devil luring me to stray from my path. It wasn’t that I particularly liked cats or dogs—I just wanted to feel the presence of something alive. I just wanted to feel that I was still alive. I walked in the direction of the sound. As I got closer, I saw a boy crouching in the bushes. He was focused on feeding a small dog with a piece of sausage. I recognized him. He was Spencer Benton. He was the second-highest scorer in the recent monthly exams. His photo was on the school’s honor roll. Noticing my presence, he looked up and offered me the remaining half of the sausage with a gentle smile. “Do you want to feed it?” I pressed my lips together, silently took the sausage, and fed it to the little dog. The puppy ate eagerly, occasionally licking my fingers with its tongue. The sensation was strange and new. I was surprised by the feeling and found myself smiling for the first time in a long while. After feeding it the rest of the sausage, I was still reluctant to let go of the moment. “You’ve had your fill for today. No more being greedy.” Spencer gently stroked the puppy’s fur. His voice was soft and soothing. I was a bit surprised and asked quietly, “Do good students skip classes too?” Spencer chuckled and glanced at me. “Didn’t you skip class too?” I bit my lip and instinctively lowered my head. It was then that I noticed the faint white scars on the inside of his wrist. “You…” I instantly understood why he was wearing long sleeves in the summer. I looked at him in shock. Spencer seemed to notice my gaze. He tugged at his sleeve, hiding his exposed wrist. He continued stroking the dog, his eyes downcast. “Her name is Bonbon. Isn’t she cute?” “Bonbon was born to a stray dog here on campus. Her mom was beaten to death. She’s all alone, so I come by every day to feed her.” While he spoke, I sat down beside him. No one had ever shared anything personal with me before, so I listened with keen interest. Then, suddenly, Spencer fell silent. I looked at him in confusion. “To be honest, I saw you thinking about ending your life earlier, so I purposely made Bonbon bark. I bet you’d have something to hold on to.” He lifted his eyes, a faint, pained smile on his pale face. “And I was right. You came back on your own.” “Because we’re the same.” I froze, stunned. Maybe it was because it was the first time I had met someone in the same situation. We found so much in common. He told me about his family. He had a twin brother who was a genius. His brother had won numerous national awards and had already been admitted to a prestigious university. As his twin, Spencer had grown up constantly being compared to him. Without his brother’s high intelligence, Spencer had to work a hundred times harder to make up for it. But he could never quite measure up. I looked at him earnestly. “But you’re already very good.” Spencer gave a bitter smile. “If only they thought like you.” By “they,” he meant his parents. I fell silent, feeling unqualified to comfort him. Spencer didn’t seem to mind. He picked up Bonbon and placed her in her little nest. Before leaving, he extended an invitation. “Do you want to come by tomorrow to feed Bonbon together?” I nodded eagerly, feeling a secret surge of joy. I felt that this place had become a secret paradise, just for the two of us. On my way back to class, my steps felt lighter, and it seemed like even the breeze smelled sweet. But as soon as I reached the classroom, my smile froze. My mother was standing right outside the door, staring at me with cold, unforgiving eyes.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397317”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Student #school #Ancient #Death

A single father had been raising his daughter alone for years, secretly solving his personal needs in such a way. ***** In the middle of the night, I got up to use the bathroom, only to find my father’s room still lit. Through the crack in the door, I saw my father, David Rhodes, setting up his phone by the bed, holding a tissue in his left hand while his right hand was under the blanket. The screen was playing porn. The headphones didn’t seem to work well, as faint, blush-inducing sounds leaked out. David’s breathing quickened, and he muttered curses under his breath until he finally collapsed onto the bed. I covered my mouth in shock, tiptoeing back to my room. It was hard to imagine that my usually dignified and gentle father would use such foul language while doing something like this. My face turned red involuntarily, the blush spreading all the way to my ears. I, Falon Rhodes, was nineteen that year. Though I had never had a boyfriend, I had always been curious about sex. But I never expected to stumble upon this scene. I grew up in a broken home. My parents split when I was three, and the judge gave David full custody. Since then, he had been both mother and father to me. I was incredibly grateful for all he had done, but I was also quite selfish. Growing up with just one parent probably left me starved for affection. I had always feared that another woman in our home would steal David’s love. That was why I had strongly resisted the idea of him remarrying. David worried that a stepmother might be mean to me and stayed single for over a decade. I used to think everyone had needs. I figured if David blew off some steam now and then, given his lack of a partner, it was no big deal. But reality was far from what I’d imagined. David was acting like a horny teenager. Almost every night since I’d been back, he’d been going at it. I watched his energy drain away day by day. His listlessness worried me sick about his health. But as his daughter, I had no idea how to broach the subject, let alone suggest he cool it. A knock at my door snapped me out of my thoughts. I opened it to find David standing there, impeccably dressed, and the picture of sophistication. He’d clearly made an effort with his appearance. A far cry from the hot mess I’d glimpsed that night, lost in the throes of passion. “Don’t forget we’re having dinner at Raegan’s tonight,” David reminded me, straightening his already perfect tie. I nodded obediently. Raegan was our next-door neighbor, another single dad with a daughter my age, Milley. We’d basically grown up together. Raegan took great care of himself. Pushing forty, he didn’t have a wrinkle in sight, giving him the appearance of a man in his late twenties. He always dressed impeccably, wearing gold-rimmed glasses that lent him an air of scholarly refinement. Being neighbors and both single-parent families, we’d grown close over the years, often looking out for each other. As I walked in, I saw Raegan, David, and Milley huddled on the couch, poring over photos from our recent trip together. Not wanting to miss out, I squeezed in to join them. As soon as I got close to Raegan, he lifted me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me. That day, I was wearing something loose, giving Raegan the perfect view. I, on the other hand, wrapped my arms around his neck like I did when I was a child, pressing my chest against him. I could clearly feel Raegan tense up, his breathing becoming a bit unsteady. I had always been this close with Raegan, so I didn’t find anything unusual about it. Meanwhile, David and Milley were the same, with David’s arm around Milley’s shoulders. When they talked, they were so close they could feel each other’s breath.

Late at night, those sultry, teasing sounds started up again, accompanied by David’s muffled groans. He probably thought I’d be fast asleep by now like I used to be before college. However, my sleep schedule had changed since I started school. Now, these noises were keeping me wide awake. I was worried about David’s health. Could he really handle this? I knew I couldn’t just sit back and let this continue. I had to put a stop to it somehow. Barging in would only make things awkward, so I came up with a plan to indirectly interrupt them. I pretended to head to the bathroom, deliberately making my footsteps heavier than usual. This way, he’d know I was awake. Hopefully, the fear of getting caught would make him behave. When I came back from the bathroom, I didn’t hear any strange noises, and I finally managed to sleep. But when I woke up in the middle of the night needing to use the bathroom, I found a pair of women’s underwear in the trash can. Judging by the style, they likely belonged to a woman around my age. There was a sticky, foul-smelling fluid on them, and from what I learned in biology class, I knew exactly what that meant. The underwear wasn’t new, and it definitely wasn’t mine. A bold thought popped into my head. “Has my father started stealing from others? If this continues, could he become a rapist? If he gets caught, it could mean at least ten years in prison.” I didn’t dare to think any further. To prevent things from spiraling out of control, I decided to talk to David after coming out of the restroom. “Dad…” I called out. He turned his back to me with a warm smile. “What’s wrong?” I suddenly felt a lump in my throat. The words were right there, but I couldn’t say them. I was scared that if I told him, exposing the truth would be a huge blow, ruining his image in my eyes and possibly pushing him to do something drastic. After thinking it over, I decided to keep it to myself for now. I quickly changed the subject. “No, I just wanted to say, I miss you.” David chuckled, “I miss you too.” Even though I’d chickened out of spilling my guts to David, the whole mess was eating away at me constantly, robbing me of peace. Desperate for answers, I turned to the internet, searching for ways to curb sexual urges. The suggestions were all over the place. Some recommended intense exercise as a distraction. Others suggested becoming a monk, embracing vegetarianism and Buddhist teachings. One even proposed castration as the ultimate solution. Obviously, these weren’t practical. There was no way David would take up my advice. I shut off my phone, massaging my temples in frustration. Then, a thought struck me. Milley also had a single dad. Maybe I could ask her to take on this? In Milley’s room, I held her hand nervously. “Milley, I need to tell you something,” I said, “but first, you have to promise to keep it secret. Don’t tell anyone, not even Raegan.” After all, this was about David’s privacy. I didn’t want it getting out. Milley pointed at herself and promised, “Please, it’s like you don’t even know me. My lips are sealed. Just tell me.” “I found out my dad was…masturbating.” I lowered my head and blushed in embarrassment. I thought Milley would be very surprised, but she was surprisingly calm. “So what? Studies show most grown men do it.” “What about your dad? Has he ever…?” I blinked curiously. Milley nodded calmly. “Yeah, but it’s kinda awkward. If you see it, just pretend you didn’t.” I shook my head. “No, my dad’s different from Raegan. He doesn’t do it once in a while, he does it every day, and…” Seeing me hesitate, Milley frowned. “And what? Spit it out already.” “And he seems to be stealing other people’s underwear to… to do this. If anyone finds out, how will we ever face anyone in this town?” I said, feeling helpless and desperate. Milley’s expression was a bit odd, a flicker of something in her eyes. “What am I supposed to do? I want to talk to Dad, try to get him to change, but I’m so afraid he’ll just fly off the handle,” I sighed. Milley pursed her lips, thinking and saying, “Actually, I do have an idea, but I don’t think you’ll like it.” My eyes lit up. “What is it? Tell me!” “Maybe your dad should remarry, find a stepmom. That way, he’ll… you know, have someone, and he won’t be doing this sort of thing all the time,” Milley suggested tentatively. I rejected it without a second thought. “No way. What if he stops caring about me after getting a new wife? And what if the stepmom is mean to me?” I would never let anyone come between me and David, let alone some woman taking him away. “Well, there’s another option,” Milley chirped, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I could become your stepmom.” I stared at her, dumbfounded. “Is this really the time for jokes? I’m about to lose it.” But Milley’s expression remained serious. “I’m not kidding. If I were your stepmom, considering how close we are, I’d never mistreat you. Plus, your dad and I could look after you together. Wouldn’t that be awesome?” I pondered her words. If Milley had been genuinely interested in becoming my stepmom, we probably wouldn’t have had any issues. But… My frown deepened. “You little rascal! I consider you my best friend, and now you want to be my mom? That’s a terrible deal for me.” Milley smirked. “If you think it’s a bad deal, you could always become my stepmom. My dad’s still single, isn’t he?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397310”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Lies #Erotic #Family #Sex #Steamy

To ensure my son could excel in the high school entrance exam, I relocated to a communal apartment directly across from his school. This place, inhabited solely by parents accompanying their children, became my new abode. Each day, our routine revolved around the mundane task of cooking, with little else to occupy our time. As lonely middle-aged men and women cohabited for extended periods, it was inevitable that sparks would fly. Through the introduction of a female neighbor, I found myself entangled with a man, partaking in what they termed an “exchange meeting.” I, Julia Smith, was the mother of Max Smith, a fifteen-year-old boy. To bolster Max’s performance in the critical high school entrance exam, during his final semester, I moved to an apartment building near his school, dedicating myself to preparing his meals daily. The love of a parent was unparalleled. Almost everyone in this building was a parent, just like me. Each of us tended to our children’s needs. Beyond cooking, our days were empty, filled with idle chatter in small groups. Our regular visits to each other’s homes became a cherished ritual. With the gentle passage of time, however, something unforeseen began to weave itself into the very fabric of our existence. It was by chance that I discovered the secret within these walls. On a Monday night, as I rose to use the communal bathroom, I paused before stepping out. My attention was captured by the rapid, passionate cries emanating from the next room. It was Hannah Swift’s voice, followed by a man’s heavy breathing. I stood there, momentarily stunned. My eyes darted as I bit my lip with a mix of envy and longing. My husband, who was consumed by work, had been absent since my move. Thus, I lived a sexless life for a long time. The prolonged abstinence weighed heavily on me. The sounds from the adjacent room agitated the fire of lust within me. I lingered in the shadows, listening. My hands instinctively caressed my body. In the wake of Hannah’s piercing scream, an eerie stillness settled over the next door. I reluctantly withdrew my hand and sighed before I made my way to the bathroom. Upon my return, I loitered outside Hannah’s door. The light within remained on, suggesting her husband would stay the night. Back in my room, I lay in bed, haunted by the echoes of Hannah’s fervent cries. Her husband seemed quite potent. Sleep eluded me that night. At some ungodly hour of the early morning, sleep finally claimed me, and I drifted into a dream. In my dream, I found myself having wild sex with a man whose features remained tantalizingly obscured. Awakening the next day to damp sheets, I smiled bitterly at my physical reaction. I murmured, “What’s wrong with me?” It had been years since such dreams had visited me, yet the stimulation from Hannah’s sex with her husband had turned me on. I rubbed my temples and got up to clean the sheets. Then, I prepared breakfast for Max. Max was enrolled at a boarding school, making his daily return to this building solely for meals. He dashed back across the street to his studies as soon as his plate was cleared. I yelled, “Take it easy.” Max hastily drank his milk. He hastily wiped his mouth and snatched up a sandwich, rushing out with a hurried farewell. “Mom, it’s getting late. Morning reading’s about to start, so I’ve got to go!” I watched his retreating figure. My heart ached for the rigors of his studies. “Julia, you look tired. Didn’t sleep well?” Hannah inquired. She lingered at the threshold as her voice reached out to me. I shot her a resentful glance. “How dare you even ask that? If not for you, do you think I would’ve slept a wink?” Hannah was stunned. “What did I do?” I pulled her inside, whispering my complaint, “I know your husband is here. Could you two keep it down? You’ve had your lust fill, but I’m still horny! You bad!” Hannah laughed with a knowing glint in her eye. She leaned in close, whispering something enigmatic into my ear. Instantly, my eyes widened in shock. Hannah said, “My husband’s away on business. Last night, the man who had sex with me wasn’t my husband.” I replied, “What did you say? Not your husband? Then you…” I looked at Hannah in shock. Hannah regarded me with a look of scorn. “Why are you shocked? You’re new here. There’s much you don’t know. “In this building, we’re all dedicated parents, but as you said, loneliness breeds desires. When you’re alone for too long, it’s only natural to yearn for the companionship of a man, isn’t it? “You can’t deny it. I’m a woman, just like you. I understand your feeling. “So, we find solace in one another, in private, helping each other to fulfill those physical needs. “Naturally, these walls contain our world. Beyond them, we’re strangers.” Her declaration left me gaping, words failing me as shock rippled through my being. Wasn’t this a betrayal wrapped in the guise of fairness? This thought popped into my mind. Hannah said, “Are you still horny? If you’re interested, I could introduce you to a sturdy man. How about Jacob Blake? He’s the one who was with me last night. He’s quite good. Shall I arrange a meeting for you?” She blinked at me with a mischievous smile. “No. Thanks.” I awkwardly waved her off. “Why so shy? Your son still has one semester left before the graduation. You’ll be here for several months. Do you plan to live like a nun all this time?” Hannah pouted as she sincerely lectured me. Despite the allure, I couldn’t quite embrace this notion just yet. With a gentle resolve, I finally declined her offer. Sensing my hesitation, Hannah didn’t press further. “Alright, take your time. Just let me know when you’re ready.” After seeing Hannah off, I returned to my room and sat down, downing two glasses of water. Her voice reverberated in my mind. Each syllable sent waves of desire through the depths of my heart. Once more, sleep eluded me as Hannah indulged in wild sex and moaned in the next door. Unable to bear it any longer, I found a cucumber, washed it, and used it to assuage my lust.

The following day, Hannah came to me. Her cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue. “Julia, I apologize for last night. Jacob was just so good, and I couldn’t help but scream.” She covered her mouth, giggling as she stepped into my room. I shot her a stern look, feigning nonchalance. “Is Jacob really that good?” Hannah grinned. Her voice was laced with mischief. “Are you curious? I offered to introduce you yesterday. Why so coy? I’ll invite Jacob over for dinner tonight. You should seize the moment.” “That’s not what I meant!” I protested as my face flushed. I frantically waved my hands. Hannah snorted and spun on her heels, dropping her teasing remark, “Get ready. I’ll go talk to Jacob.” I watched her retreating figure and anchored in a moment of bewilderment. A sudden flutter of anticipation surged within me. But I swiftly shook my head. “Julia Smith,” I whispered to myself, “snap out of it. You can’t cheat on your husband.” Perhaps driven by an eagerness to make love, I found myself in the kitchen that afternoon, honestly pouring my heart into creating a feast. I even called Max, fabricating an excuse for him to dine at school. Seated at the table, I gazed at the door. A whirlwind of emotions, including nervousness, self-reproach, guilt, and a flicker of excitement, coursed through me. The knock on the door jolted me from my reverie. After a moment’s hesitation, I rose to greet my guests. Hannah stood at the threshold, accompanied by a middle-aged man who exuded an air of elegance. “Julia, this is Jacob Blake.” Hannah winked at me. “Good evening. I’m Jacob Blake, living downstairs. It’s an honor to meet you.” Jacob bowed slightly, extending his hand. A blush crept across my cheeks as I nervously accepted his handshake. “Hello, I’m Julia Smith. Please, come in.” As our hands touched, I stepped aside, welcoming them into my home. Seated before the dinner table, I felt a pang of guilt facing Jacob and Hannah. Moreover, I couldn’t help but notice that Jacob stared at me, adding to my unease. My heart raced. No longer in the bloom of youth, nearing forty, I was all too familiar with the unspoken language of his gaze. Jacob had aged like fine wine. Despite being middle-aged, he still looked dashing. He even radiated a captivating charm. Perhaps his allure was indeed from the wisdom and the rich experiences that time alone could confer. In stark contrast, my husband, with his somewhat unkempt and greasy demeanor, stood as a figure entirely at odds with Jacob’s polished aura. The weight of Jacob’s gaze made me uneasy, so I settled into my chair, choosing silence as my shield. Thankfully, Hannah’s vibrant presence served to thaw the ice. Little by little, my tension eased, allowing me to engage in conversation with Jacob. We sipped wine and discussed our families. Jacob, I learned, had moved to this building the previous year to support his daughter’s education. Like Max, Jacob’s daughter was in her final year of junior high, preparing for the high school entrance exam. “Oh, I’m tipsy. I can’t take any more. I need to rest. Jacob, take good care of Julia.” Hannah suddenly clutched her head, stood up unsteadily, and stumbled towards the door. My eyes widened, and I instinctively stood up and rushed to assist her. “What are you doing? I’ve set the stage for you. Don’t waste my efforts,” Hannah whispered. Her voice was devoid of any trace of intoxication. “You…” I was shocked. With a roll of her eyes, Hannah nudged me back into the room and shut the door with a definitive click, leaving Jacob and me in a sudden hush. The air between us crackled with an undeniable sexual tension. “Julia, I’m a fitness coach. Your posture suggests a spinal issue. If you’re willing, I can help correct it.” Jacob adjusted his glasses and fixed his piercing gaze on me. The wine had colored my cheeks. Under his intense stare, my cheeks burned even redder. “Is this too much trouble for you?” I whispered, biting my lip. “Not at all. I enjoy helping others,” Jacob replied, rising to his feet. As he approached, my breath quickened. “Let me help you relax first, then I’ll correct your posture.” Jacob took my hand, leading me to the bedroom. I followed him stiffly, allowing him to guide me onto the bed. “Don’t be nervous. We’ll start with your hands.” Jacob held my hands, tracing circles in the air. The action itself was innocent, yet with his body atop mine, his rugged chest rhythmically brushed against mine. Such an exhilarating experience sent shivers down my spine. “Now, let’s move on to your legs,” Jacob murmured. His hands glided down to grasp my legs, gently lifting and massaging them. I lay there, eyes half-closed. My eyelashes fluttered with each touch. “Ah!” My eyes snapped wide as a stifled moan slipped past my lips. His hand had ventured deep into my warm pussy.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397307”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #NewAdult #Hot #Desire #Sex #Steamy #Taboo

In my previous life, my husband, Felix Hastings, was snatched away by my best friend, Rachel Worthington, who was the only daughter of the richest man, Kenneth Worthington. They mocked me, insulted me, and even pushed me down the stairs to my death. Given a chance to relive my life, I set my sights on Kenneth, who was wealthy and handsome. He had few offspring, only one adopted daughter. It was on his account that Rachel had been so unscrupulous in murder. Surprisingly, I was born with a high chance of getting pregnant. Soon, I seduced him and had four babies. In this life, I wanted you to beg me and call me “Mom”. … In a daze, I staggered towards the room on the second floor of the villa. Kenneth, wearing silver-rimmed glasses and wrapped in a bathrobe, was initially taken aback when I suddenly barged in. His surprise quickly gave way to a cold expression. I bumped into him, feigning innocence and mumbling softly. At that moment, I had not yet experienced the damage of the fertility injection, and my appearance was as charming and attractive as a fairy. My soft hair was entangled between Kenneth’s fingers, and he caught a whiff of a light fragrance, which turned him on. His expression darkened instantly. Every detail about me, including the length of my straps, the curve of my neckline, the placement of my skirt’s slits, and even the tone of my voice in every sentence, was meticulously planned. I knew that by missing this opportunity, I would never get close to Kenneth again. He swallowed, and his gaze was burning hot. Suddenly, he pulled me into a tight embrace, and I could feel the warmth of his body and the rapid beat of his heart. He whispered in my ear, “Do you realize what you are doing?” ​At that moment, I distinctly felt his eagerness and eagerness.​ I knew my plan worked. Early the next morning, a scream woke me up. “Abigail! What are you doing? This is my father!” Rachel stood at the door, while everyone who had attended her birthday party the day before gathered there with mixed expressions. Staring at her innocently, I wrapped myself in the quilt tightly and interrupted Kenneth, who was about to speak. “I was drunk yesterday. We just chatted under the quilt. Nothing happened.” I understood that a wealthy man who was well-known in the business world would not want to be laughed at by others. Moreover, Rachel was not the only witness. Her expression changed from shock to anger. She clenched her teeth, staring at me with doubt and resentment. “Do you regard me as a fool?” With that, she was about to rush over to hit me. But she was stopped by Kenneth. “That’s enough! Didn’t you hear what she just said? “It was just an accident!” Rachel was stunned and was eager to retort. I leaned close to her ear and whispered, “You’d better buy my story. Otherwise, if your father is really interested in me, you will have to call me Mom.” Her eyes widened in amazement. After a moment of hesitation, she glared at me fiercely, pivoted around, and forced a smile at the guests at the door. “Don’t misunderstand. They just chatted all night.” The guests glanced at each other, laughed embarrassedly, and left. Rachel shot me a menacing look, identical to the one she had given me when she pushed me down the stairs in my previous life. I was born in a place called Belle Village. All the girls there were naturally beautiful and attractive. As a result, I was abducted three or four times during my childhood. Finally, I escaped to an orphanage and met Rachel. When I was a child, while other kids were pale and thin, I was healthy and attractive. The orphanage was not some paradise on earth, and the competition among the children was intense. Among them, only Rachel took care of me. Although many people wanted to adopt me, each attempt ended in failure. Not long after, Rachel was taken away and adopted by Gu Kenneth, who was known as a business tycoon. I was truly happy for her and genuinely believed she was the most important person in my life. Therefore, in my previous life, I was dumbfounded when Rachel touched her belly and told me that she was pregnant with Felix’s child. They mocked and insulted me for being infertile. Moreover, when I threatened to use legal means to divorce Felix and claim all the assets, Rachel pushed me down the stairs, resulting in my death. I woke up to find myself back in a time before anything had happened. It was so painful to discover that the two people I trusted most had betrayed me and that I never got to say before my death in my previous life, “It’s not my problem. The one who can’t have a child is Felix!”

Our family had a natural fertility trait, but I kept it a secret for Felix’s sake. Rachel, you relied on Kenneth, who was the richest man, to be so unscrupulous in murder. Since you liked my infertile husband so much, I would give the scumbag to you. I thought Kenneth was an ideal husband. He had good looks, wealth, and you as his only adopted daughter. When I gave birth to his own biological child, he would no longer care about you. In this life, I would make you beg me and call me “Mom”. When we got dressed and went downstairs, Rachel sat on the sofa furiously. “Dad, Abigail, there is no outsider. Do you have any sense of shame?” Shame? How ridiculous! That word should have never crossed Rachel’s mind when she slept with Felix in my previous life. Even so, I resisted the urge to curse. Covering my face, I cried softly, pretending to be pitiful. “I have no idea what happened. I just drank the glass of wine you handed me yesterday, and then everything became like this.” Rachel panicked “What! Do you mean I hurt you?” I explained, feeling hurt, “Of course not. You’re my best friend. How could I doubt you? But the people around you don’t seem trustworthy. Could they be acting behind your back?” Rachel flew into a rage. The upper class in Avalonville had always been hostile to her. She had put in a lot of effort to invite every guest to her birthday party yesterday. “You bitch, if you like my father, just admit it. Don’t talk nonsense.” Kenneth interrupted her, “She was indeed unconscious yesterday. “I taught you myself and know what kind of person you are. It’s also because I tend to spoil you too much. “You’ve actually made some undesirable friends. I’ve suspended your black card. You’re not allowed to socialize with them for now. Stay home and reflect on your mistakes.” “Dad.” “That’s it.” Rachel ran out in frustration. At that moment, only Kenneth and I were left. I said, “Mr. Worthington, yesterday was just an accident. I only intended to attend Rachel’s birthday party. I didn’t expect it to end up like this.” I choked up again. “But I hope you can forget the accident.” Kenneth was caught off guard. He had encountered women who tried to seduce him before, but I was indeed unconscious last night and tried to struggle several times. ​He remembered that Rachel had been the culprit in the accident.​ A hint of guilt surged within him. “I can give you any compensation you want.” I shook my head and smiled bitterly, “You are a victim, too. “To be honest, I’m already married, but I can’t get over this. I feel sorry for my husband and want to divorce him. “But we established the company together. If he learns of the reason for my divorce, all my hard work will be destroyed.” Kenneth patted my head hesitantly. “I understand. Don’t worry. What’s yours will be yours.” I gazed at him seriously with some admiration, my eyes wide. “Thank you, Mr. Worthington. You are so nice.” Kenneth felt that I was different from all the women he had met before. He had caused me to fall into such a state, yet I still thanked him. He walked me to the door and asked the driver to take me home. I exited the villa when something suddenly occurred to me. After turning around, I bumped into his arms, just like last night. He subconsciously hugged my waist. I took two steps back to create some distance and handed him my business card carefully.

“Mr. Worthington, I hope we can get to know each other again. “We’ll meet again in the business world.” Sitting in the car, I noticed Kenneth’s reluctant gaze, but I didn’t look back. Since he had promised me that he would handle my divorce, I didn’t have to worry about the division of property. I made a phone call and had all my stuff removed from the house. Additionally, I warned Felix, my ex-husband, that I had evidence of his affair with Rachel and instructed him to stay out of my sight. I thought that he cheated on me because we didn’t have children after several years of marriage. After being reborn, I found out that he and Rachel had been in constant contact. They actually played with me. Since you were so ruthless, don’t blame me for making life difficult for you. I stroked my belly gently. I could sense that I had succeeded yesterday and that new life was already growing strong in my belly, just waiting for the right moment. In the following month, although I gave Kenneth my business card, he did not reach me on his own initiative. Yet, I was not in a hurry. With Rachel around, how could she allow Kenneth to contact me? However, I was very confident that I could capture his heart. The memory of that night would be embedded in his mind like a stubborn nail, impossible to erase. Now, I was still the boss of the company. Coincidentally, this planning project was in cooperation with Kenneth’s company, and we had been communicating online before. ​When we next met, I was exactly a month and a half into my pregnancy.​ I revised several plans and chose the most perfect version. I leaned back in my office chair and sighed, feeling fortunate to have returned at the perfect moment. Now, in the prime of my life, I was not forced to quit my job for pregnancy preparation or to care for Felix’s mother all day, avoiding becoming anxious, pale, and thin or gaining excessive weight. On the day of the contract negotiation, I was dressed in a light blue business suit and carried a thick stack of documents in my hands. In the meeting room, Kenneth sat in the center with a stern look. However, at the sight of me, he was slightly startled. I smiled politely, as if I didn’t know him, and handed the document to him. He took the document, and his fingertips accidentally touched my hand. I felt the warmth of his fingertips, and my heart skipped a beat. Our eyes met, and the atmosphere was subtle. I was in charge of this project, while my ex-husband merely played a figurehead role, making occasional sounds but contributing nothing substantial. This situation highlighted my professionalism even more. In the negotiation, I did not give in. After several rounds of confrontation, we reached a consensus. Everyone exchanged pleasantries cheerfully. Just as I was about to see them off, Rachel pulled me aside and said angrily, “I spotted you flirting with my father behind my back. Do you still want to be my stepmother?” I replied calmly, “How could that be? I’ve been concentrating on my work. Given your time to worry about me, you might as well address your own relationship problems. I’ve divorced Felix, but why hasn’t he married you yet?” Her face suddenly darkened, and she stammered, “How did you know? No, I mean, what nonsense are you talking about?” “But you are right about one thing,” I smiled. “I really want to hear you call me Mom. “I’m pregnant!” I paused deliberately and then mouthed, “Your father’s child.” In a fit of rage, Rachel momentarily lost control and rushed towards me, wildly beating me and swearing at me. She pushed me to the floor, and the pain came instantly. Everyone was shocked. Kenneth hurriedly stepped forward to pull her away and asked, “What’s going on?” I raised my head, tears welling up in my eyes, and sobbed, “I don’t know! I thought Rachel just wanted to catch up with me, but she suddenly hit me!” Upon hearing this, Rachel immediately retorted, “That’s not true! My father can only have me as his daughter. He can’t have another child. How dare you claim that you are pregnant!” Before she could finish her words, Kenneth slapped her hard in the face, interrupting her speech. She covered her face, as if she realized what she had said. “You actually hit me for her?” Kenneth gritted his teeth, his face livid. “That’s enough. Shut up. In fact, Abigail and I have been in a relationship since she divorced.” Suddenly, someone exclaimed, “She’s bleeding!” I glanced down and saw that my lower body was already covered in blood.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397301”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Pregnancy #AccidentalPregnancy #Revenge #Friends

After I got pregnant, my boyfriend took me to a place in the mountains to rest. He promised that he would marry me in four months. But when my belly started to show, he went ahead and married someone else. I confronted him through my tears, demanding to know why. With a slight furrow in his brow, he replied, “Lillian, you should understand. The wife of the White Group heir has to be a high-society socialite “Be reasonable. My heart is with you. What more do you want?” I trembled uncontrollably. He made me a mistress, turned our baby into an illegitimate child, and then blamed me for being ungrateful.

When Cliff Harrod loved me the most, I suddenly found myself time-traveling to the seventh year of our marriage. At that point, he had already been unfaithful, keeping a mistress, and was in the process of divorcing me.

Three months after the breakup, my girlfriend, Nicole Adams, got engaged to her new boyfriend, Quinn Turner. She had pursued me so passionately, saying countless times a day that she loved me, urging me to come back, and asking me why I didn’t like her. However, in the end, she fell in love with someone else. After our seven-year relationship, we severed ties. I finally gave up on her completely.

My fiancé Logan Perez’s high school sweetheart, the one he had loved long before me, was now gravely ill. She was an orphan, and her greatest wish before she died was to have a “legitimate” family. So, Logan, who was supposed to marry me, secretly married her instead. And just like that, I went from being his fiancée to a third wheel in someone else’s marriage.

On the day I married Jasper Hawthorne, my younger sister, Fiona Winslow, died. After her death, Jasper, who had twice rejected her love, suddenly realized he had been in love with her all along. He turned all his anger on me, calling me the one who drove her to her death, saying I deserved nothing but misery for the rest of my life. Even my mother hated me. She screamed at me again and again, “Elara, why wasn’t it you who died?” But later, when I was really dying, they begged me to hold on and live.

My marriage to Elliott Wellington was a godsend for me but not for him. On our wedding night, he left me and went somewhere else. Later, I found out that the woman was none other than his ex-girlfriend, Patricia Adams. In the fourth year of our marriage, I finally made up my mind and asked for a divorce, but he pushed me against the door and roared like a madman, “Scarlett, I’m not the trash you throw away after playing with me!” This year marked the fourth year of my marriage to Elliott. In the past, I would definitely jog behind him or be at his beck and call. However, now, I found life increasingly hopeless and boring. After four years of marriage, I had been making an effort to play the role of a considerate wife in public. Elliott had been doing the same. He was seen as a rare ideal husband by my parents, an exemplary spouse by the media, and a caring president of a wealthy family by others. In short, in the eyes of outsiders, he was perfect. Therefore, after knowing that I had an argument with him, they habitually blamed me instead of him. To others, Elliott was such an exceptional husband that he was one in a million. But there was a reason they thought highly of him. I would have done the same thing six years ago. After all, that was when I fell in love with him. As a junior in college, I saw Elliott for the first time and was struck by how incredibly handsome he was. Since then, I always paid attention to him, arranging encounters while making him believe they were accidental. “Elliott, what a coincidence! Are you going to the library, too? “Elliott, you are coming to this cafeteria today, too!” … Finally, after a series of chance encounters, I exchanged contact information with Elliott. Then, I became one of the insignificant faces among his Instagram followers. How could an excellent person like him remember my appearance and name? But I didn’t give up. I sent him good morning and good night messages daily and occasionally shared interesting things that happened to me. However, Elliott was very aloof. He responded only selectively, and at times, I wouldn’t hear from him for several days. At that time, I thought I was too annoying and felt bad for a while. Until that day, I saw him kissing a girl under a tree. I later found out that she was the one that other girls on the campus confession wall envied for being with Elliott. But I was like a clown, sending him nonsense messages every day. He must find me annoying. Yesterday, instead of informing me directly, he told his secretary, Victor Hastings, that he was going to have dinner outside. I cooked a lot of delicious food and waited until dark before receiving a call from Victor. I had been married to Elliott for four years. During that time, I had nearly exhausted all my affection for him. Where he was and what he was doing now were completely unknown to me. I rarely inquired about his affairs and was unaware of most of them. If it hadn’t been for that message, I wouldn’t have even discovered that he went to his childhood sweetheart’s house on our wedding night. ​It was the same girl from college, Patricia Adams.​ However, he explained, “The company has a document that needs to be processed urgently.” At 1:30 in the morning, while lying on my bed in my bedroom, I could faintly hear the sound of raindrops falling outside. It was my first night as Elliott’s wife after our wedding. Yet, he was with another woman at that moment. I couldn’t calm down because he left with just one phone call. Feeling upset, I picked up my phone to scroll through Instagram, only to receive a text message from a number ending in “0814”. [Elliott is doing well here with me. Thank you.] These hurtful words stung my eyes and gave me a headache. But when Elliott came back the next day, I pretended to be ignorant, as if I had never received that message. “Aren’t you curious about where I went last night?” he asked while skillfully cutting the steak on his plate. Slightly startled, I smiled, “Didn’t you mention you went to the company to process a document?” He raised his eyebrows and said nothing more. I was unsure whether it was a test or a suspicion of me. I always felt that he had some secrets behind marrying me.

Lying on the soft, big bed, I recalled the four years of marriage. Despite having no feelings for me, Elliott was a good husband. After marrying him, I enjoyed a luxurious life, thanks to his position as president. I played cards and went shopping every day. My life was pretty comfortable. But I gradually lost my patience with this boring life and even attempted to escape because Elliott’s beloved wasn’t me. The bedroom door was pushed open, and a tall figure instantly loomed over the quilt. I knew Elliott was back. ​The clock ticked once and struck midnight.​ He came back early tonight. I felt the mattress dip behind me as a warm body pressed against my back. “I know you’re not asleep yet.” Elliott’s breath brushed my neck. I didn’t pivot around and said calmly, “I’m not in the mood today.” He still turned a deaf ear to my words, as domineering as ever. After we had sex, I listened to the raindrops falling outside. I pondered for a moment and said seriously, “Elliott, let’s get a divorce.” I wasn’t sure if Elliott heard me that night, but he didn’t return for the next two nights. It was normal for him not to come back home, so I didn’t dwell on it. I made an appointment with a friend to go shopping in a newly opened mall. While wandering around, we walked past Elliott’s company. It was a thirty-story building that housed many industries. As the owner of the building, Elliott had lived a high-profile “celebrity” life since his childhood. “Don’t you want to go upstairs and take a look?” I pulled my friend, feeling embarrassed. “No. Let’s continue shopping. There’s a great café up ahead.” To my surprise, I turned around and saw a very familiar figure at the front desk of the lobby on the first floor. My friend also saw her and drew me hurriedly. “Isn’t that your husband’s first love? Why is she here?” Having already decided to divorce, I was unwilling to get involved too much in Elliott’s affairs. I was about to grab my friend and leave this place. “What a coincidence!” A sweet voice sounded behind us. “Mrs. Wellington.” I sensed Patricia’s hatred from the form of address. If something hadn’t happened in her family that forced her to break up with Elliott, I wouldn’t have married him and become Mrs. Wellington. So, I could really turn a blind eye to her rude tone. “Yeah, what a coincidence,” I replied out of politeness. Patricia sized me up with burning eyes. “Would you like to go in for a cup of coffee?” She was referring to the coffee bar in the company’s lobby. I didn’t frequent it often and had only had a drink there once. However, she acted as though she were the building’s hostess, inviting me, the true hostess. My friend couldn’t help but retort, “Ms. Adams, there’s no need for coffee. After all, Mrs. Wellington and I are going to the café in front. Enjoy the free coffee in the lobby on the first floor yourself!” Before I could say anything, my friend pulled me away. “Don’t you want to know what happened between Elliott and me over the years?” Patricia’s voice kept echoing in my mind, and I was very curious about their past. “Don’t overthink. She is shameless.” In the café, my friend held my hand and comforted me. I shook my head. “I am fine. I’m just interested in what she said.” “You have to trust Elliott. The hardest part of a relationship is building mutual trust.” I had always believed in Elliott, but all I received in return were the duties of a husband and wife. As for everything else, I felt nothing. I suspected Elliott might have given Patricia some instructions, as she had the audacity to provoke me today. If he hadn’t doted on her so much, how would she have dared to confront me? After figuring it out, I became more determined to get a divorce.

I rarely saw Elliott these days. Either he returned after I had fallen asleep or left before I woke up. But I had long been accustomed to this kind of life. After getting up in the morning, I habitually made my own breakfast, browsed my phone, and laughed heartlessly. I had received plenty of provocative messages in the past few days. [Elliott will never fall in love with you.] [Elliott belongs to me alone!] And so on. I immediately knew it was Patricia trying to upset me, but she didn’t realize I had lost interest in such matters. My phone rang in the afternoon, and I answered Elliott’s call. “Let’s go to the steakhouse at Cedar Avenue tonight!” His voice on the other end of the phone was deep and magnetic. I hadn’t heard it for a long time, and I was distracted for a while. “Me and you?” I paused and asked again, “Just the two of us?” He seemed surprised by my questions and couldn’t help laughing. “Yes, I have already made a reservation.” I beamed with joy and agreed immediately, “Okay!” We could talk about divorce tonight. I was not sure if Elliott could predict the future or if it was because of something else. He stood me up. I waited in the steakhouse for half an hour, but he didn’t show up, so I took my bag and went home. Two hours later, he called me hurriedly. “I’m so sorry. I had an overseas video meeting. Are you home?” I held the phone and hesitated in silence for a while before replying, “Yeah.” In my opinion, divorce was a very serious matter and should be discussed face to face. Elliott should be back tonight. As I expected, there was a noise outside the villa at around eleven o’clock in the evening. Upstairs, I took out the divorce agreement I had prepared in advance. Elliott took off his coat while explaining inexplicably, “I’m sorry something delayed me tonight. Did you wait long?” He rarely cared about these before. “Have you had dinner yet? If not, let’s eat something together.” I felt mixed emotions, tugged at the corner of my clothes, and said, “Elliott, let’s get a divorce!” He seemed not to have heard clearly and asked, “What? “What did you say?” I replied calmly, “I said we should get divorced. You can be with your childhood sweetheart, and we should move on from each other.” It seemed that Elliott hadn’t heard me that night. He grew furious. His eyes widened instantly as he clenched his fists and growled, “Do you dare to repeat it?” I said fearlessly, “I said…” Elliott’s aggressive kiss prevented me from finishing my words. I punched his back hard until he let go of me just before I almost suffocated. I noticed his bloodshot eyes and a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth, which was from where my lip had been scratched. He wiped his lips as if removing something very filthy, then stared at me coldly and said, “Scarlett, I’m not the trash you throw away after playing with me!” Before I could say anything, the door was slammed shut. I brought up this matter in such a casual way, as simple as going to the supermarket to buy groceries. But Elliott’s reaction dissatisfied me very much! ​A divorce would allow him to be with his childhood sweetheart, would it not? If it had been someone else, they would have readily agreed to such a good thing. I believed people like Elliott should be more cunning. Despite the idea that it would be better if fewer people knew about this, I could no longer hide my excitement. I told my friend in advance. “What did you say? Do you want a divorce? “Are you going to abandon such an ideal husband? Give him to me.” I didn’t bother to explain to her how I spent the past few years. Even if I did, she certainly wouldn’t buy my story because, in her eyes, Elliott was simply perfect. “My marriage is not as good as you think,” I replied while holding the phone. My friend calmed down and advised, “But Scarlett, your marriage may not be as bad as you think! I regard Elliott as a reliable person.” I understand why she always spoke well of Elliott. During my junior year, I cried my heart out in depression because he had a girlfriend. When my friend invited me to go out and have fun, I either declined or appeared very gloomy once there. Later, I felt better. It wasn’t until my senior year that I got together with Elliott. She was the first one with whom I shared the news. I believed she genuinely wanted me to be happy after witnessing our relationship evolve into marriage over the years. Furthermore, he had taken good care of me and done nothing wrong. But it wasn’t a reason for me to compromise, right?

Several days passed. Elliott still didn’t come back, and I had no idea where he spent the night. It should be Patricia’s place. After all, she had recently sent me so many inappropriate messages to provoke me that I couldn’t even block them. She was the only one who had so much free time to upset me. Today was the day Elliott and I had scheduled for our monthly visit to his parents. In the past, we would go together, but this time, I had to go alone. After getting ready and dressed, I carried my latest bag and drove my own supercar to the Wellington Manor. It was in a serious and classic style, and there were several arches in the garden behind the gate. I walked through the front yard and saw Elliott’s grandmother, Laura Wellington, sitting in the center. “Laura, why did you come out today?” I approached her with a smile. She often gave me gifts and treated me like her own granddaughter. “Scarlett, you are here! Where’s Elliott?” “He is busy at work, so he asked me to come by myself.” I lied without hesitation. Laura hit her cane on the ground angrily. “He doesn’t care about you! How inconsiderate!” Elliott’s parents also criticized him. And so did I. Moreover, I even exaggerate the situation, hoping to destroy the good man image that Elliott had created completely. Suddenly, a deep male voice came from the door. “I do care about Scarlett!” It was Elliott?! I pivoted around and saw him. How could he say such shameless things? Wasn’t he afraid that I would record it and send it to his childhood sweetheart? I deliberately turned my eyes from him. “Elliott, you must take good care of Scarlett! After all, you chose her as your wife!” Elliott glanced over and said, “I know, Grandma. You all have seen whether I take good care of her or not!” To be honest, I couldn’t help but admire his eloquence. He kept telling his family how well he treated me, setting it up so that if we divorced in the future, the blame would undoubtedly fall on me. He was going to get me into trouble. I hurriedly grabbed Laura’s hand and complained aggrievedly, “Laura, you have to scold him for me. We had a quarrel these days, and I didn’t even know where he was!” She was very anxious. “What was going on?” “That’s not true, Grandma. We love each other. Scarlett was just joking!” He pulled me away from Laura with a fake smile. Then, he whispered in my ear, “You’d better not tell them these things. Otherwise, there will be consequences.” I rolled my eyes at him. His threat didn’t scare me. After dinner, we left the Wellington Manor. I didn’t plan to ride in the same car with Elliott. “I have something else to do. See you later!” I intended to go to the bar and have some fun with my friends. After being mostly homebound for four years of marriage, I was eager to enjoy my single life in advance. “Aren’t you going home?” Elliott watched me get into my red supercar. Home? It wasn’t home at all. Instead of replying, I started the engine directly. In an instant, a dark figure suddenly rushed into my front passenger seat. “What are you doing?” I glared at Elliott. He sized me up. “I am looking at my wife.” I was so upset by his words. “We are getting divorced. I won’t be your wife soon.” “Since we aren’t divorced, you are still my wife.” My plan was ruined by Elliott, so I had to drive back to the villa. The wind blew through the dark night, making the hair on his forehead even more disheveled. He appeared more attractive than before. As a student, he was immature and introverted, but now he exuded maturity and steadiness. Without Patricia, maybe I could really continue to live a happy life with him. “What are you thinking? The light turned green.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397298”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Marriage #Dominant #Divorce #Hurt #Betrayal