I was on FaceTime with my brother late at night. Suddenly, he said he had to take care of something and left his phone on the desk. I went to grab a glass of water. When I came back, I noticed the video call was still connected and was just about to hang up. Suddenly, a deep, magnetic voice came through the speaker, carrying a hint of breathless exhaustion. “Stop kissing.” ?!? That voice… It was Ethan Wilder. The guy I’d been secretly crushing on for three whole months. Then, I heard Ethan’s voice get even closer. “I said, stop kissing.” My brother let out a low chuckle. “Can’t help it. It’s been too long.” My brother… and Ethan Wilder? Alright then. That night, with tears in my eyes, I changed Ethan’s contact name in my phone to “Future Brother-in-Law.” You can’t exactly sabotage your own brother’s romance. 1 When my brother had first FaceTimed me, I was staring blankly at the three new photos Ethan had just posted on his Instagram. “What are you doing? You look totally spaced out,” my brother, Austin, said, loudly crunching on an apple on his end. “Nothing,” I said listlessly. “I just feel like some people are born to live up in the clouds.” “Spring fever hitting you early?” “Screw off.” We chatted aimlessly for about half an hour. He mentioned he had to go down and grab a DoorDash delivery and tossed his phone onto his desk. The camera was pointing straight up at the ceiling. I was just about to hit the red ‘end call’ button when I heard his dorm room door open. Then, footsteps. Next, a deep, husky voice drifted into my ears, carrying a helpless, amused tone: “Alright, stop kissing.” My entire body went rigid. I knew that voice far too well; it was my crush, Ethan Wilder. The video feed stuttered for a second before focusing on Ethan’s shirtless upper half. Water droplets were sliding down the sharp, defined lines of his abs. I stared at the screen, my finger hovering over the end call button, but I physically couldn’t press it. He was towel-drying his hair. A stray drop of water rolled past his Adam’s apple. He suddenly raised his eyes and looked directly toward the camera. I held my breath. “Austin,” “Your camera is still on.” The air froze for three agonizing seconds. Austin’s panicked face suddenly filled the screen, his eyes wide with horror: “Holy shit! Chloe, you’re still there?!” Austin frantically fumbled with the phone. The image blurred wildly before finally going pitch black. Call Ended. I sat paralyzed on my bed, my phone slipping from my hand. Only one word echoed in my brain: Ruined. My phone screen lit up again. It was a text from Austin: [Bad connection just now. Let’s talk another day.] I stared at the message, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, having absolutely no idea what to reply. Finally, I just sent back an “OK” hand emoji. 2 “Chloe, are you alright?” my roommate, Sarah, poked her head over from her desk. “I’m going through a breakup,” I mumbled, burying my face in my knees. “It ended before it even started.” “What’s going on?” my other roommate, Madison, pulled off her headphones. I shook my head, unable to speak. My mind was playing that snippet on an infinite loop: Ethan’s deep voice, Austin’s panicked expression, and that familiar, long-fingered hand. Suddenly, everything made perfect sense. Why Ethan had given me such a subtle, weird look the very first time we met. Why Austin always claimed his roommate was an “insanely busy guy” and never let me visit his dorm. Why Austin always looked like he was biting his tongue whenever I brought up Ethan’s name. Three days. I lay in bed for three whole days. Other than going to class, I just stared at the ceiling in a daze. I deleted every single photo of Ethan from my phone’s camera roll, only to sneakily recover them all from my iCloud trash later. 3 The very first time I saw Ethan was on Austin’s Twitch stream. He was wearing a gaming headset, his side profile facing the camera. His fingers were flying across the mechanical keyboard, his character racking up kill streaks on the screen. “This is my roommate, Ethan,” Austin introduced him, casually leaning back in his chair. “Student Body President and Varsity Basketball Captain. Handsome, right?” Ethan turned his head and gave the camera a brief, polite nod. In that exact second, I clutched my iPad and literally rolled across my bed. “Who are you getting so hyped over?” my best friend, Lily, peeked over from her side of the room. I turned the screen toward her. “Damn,” Lily squinted. “That’s your brother’s friend? Is he single?” “I don’t know.” “Well, what are you waiting for? Get his Snapchat!” I retreated to my bunk and opened my text thread with Austin. I typed and deleted, deleted and typed. Finally, I sent: [Hey Austin, about your roommate…] Austin instantly replied with Ethan’s contact card. After I added him, my chat history for the first three months was entirely composed of academic questions I had frantically brainstormed just to have an excuse to talk to him. “Hey Ethan, how do you solve this coding problem?” “Hey Ethan, do you know how to use this statistical software?” He always replied with incredible patience. Looking back now, he was probably only doing it out of courtesy to my brother. 4 One weekend, I used the excuse of delivering a batch of our mom’s famous homemade lasagna to Austin’s apartment, secretly planning to gather some firsthand intel. Ethan opened the door. He was wearing a loose grey t-shirt, his hair slightly damp. He was even better-looking in person than on video. “Is Austin here?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes looking straight ahead. “He’s in the shower. Come on in,” Ethan said, stepping aside. Hearing the water running in the bathroom, I sat anxiously on the sofa and placed the container on the table: “This is for… you guys.” “Thanks.” Ethan smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Damn it. Why was my brother so lucky? “Do you two… get along well?” I couldn’t help but ask. Ethan paused. “Hmm?” “Austin can be careless. Don’t let it bother you.” “If he ever bullies you, tell me.” Just then, Austin walked out, drying his hair with a towel. “What are you doing here?” “Dropping off Mom’s lasagna.” “I won’t interrupt you two anymore. I’m leaving,” I said, flashing them both a quick “I totally get it” look before bolting. I had to. For my brother’s happiness. My secret crush was buried alive by an unexpected, accidental revelation before it ever saw the light of day. But that was okay. At least all that handsome goodness was staying in the family. I sniffled. From that day on, I switched from “Crush Mode” to “Fiercely Protective Sister-in-Law Mode.” 5 The weather was crisp and clear on the day of the university’s Fall Festival. As Student Body President, Ethan arrived at the event plaza early. Austin had something else to take care of, so he asked me to go down and help out first. Alumni forums, academic showcases, club fairs… I diligently played the role of tour guide, explaining layouts and handing out water bottles. Suddenly, an incredibly gorgeous girl—probably the queen bee of some sorority—walked right up to Ethan with a dazzling smile, her phone out with her Snapchat QR code ready. I moved fast, wedging myself right between them. “I am so sorry, but Ethan is incredibly busy right now! If you have any specific student union questions, you can shoot an email to the public affairs inbox!” The girl froze, looked at me, then looked at Ethan’s expressionless face. Her face turned a mix of red and white before she awkwardly walked away. I breathed a sigh of relief. When I turned around, I found him looking down at me. “You…” He opened his mouth, then stopped. “What is it, Ethan?” I blinked, the picture of innocent naivety. “I was just helping you out! In a setting like this, it’s not convenient to go around adding random people, right?” I said with hidden meaning. I thought to myself: My brother might have a big heart, but I’m going to make sure to weed out all these wandering flowers trying to get near his ‘wife.’ Ethan gave me a long, deep look. He didn’t say anything else, just gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head and turned to walk forward. Late that afternoon, Austin finally showed up and found us backstage at the auditorium. The moment he arrived, he threw his arm around Ethan’s shoulders, giving him a hard pat. “My bad, man. Got held up over there. My sister wasn’t annoying you, was she?” Ethan swayed slightly from the slap and gave him a cool glance: “No.” “Awesome!” Austin laughed boisterously. I watched them standing there, arms slung over each other’s shoulders. One was pure, golden-retriever sunshine, the other was cool and reserved. Honestly… they really did look good together. That little pang of sourness bubbled up in my heart again. I quickly forced it down and flashed a bright smile: “Of course I wasn’t! Austin, are you hungry? Let’s go eat! I know this new Bar & Grill just off-campus, the food is amazing!” 6 Austin loved insanely spicy food, while Ethan seemed to prefer milder flavors. I grabbed the menu and ordered a massive plate of atomic buffalo wings for Austin, but I specifically pushed the mild garlic parmesan wings and a grilled chicken salad toward Ethan. “Ethan, you should try this salad. It’s really good and not greasy at all.” Austin reached his fork out to grab a mild wing. I kicked him hard under the table, glaring at him and mouthing the words: “Give. Him. Some. Food!” Austin looked utterly confused, but he still grabbed a piece of grilled chicken and dropped it onto Ethan’s plate: “Here man, eat up.” Ethan stared at the chicken that had suddenly appeared on his plate. He paused, then looked up, his gaze shifting back and forth between me and Austin. “Thanks.” I breathed a sigh of relief, mentally giving myself a pat on the back. During dinner, Austin talked about the funny things happening in his engineering projects. Ethan occasionally added a word or two, and the atmosphere seemed pretty good. I ate my fries while secretly observing them. Ethan didn’t talk much, but he was incredibly focused when Austin was speaking. When Austin got excited and started gesturing wildly, Ethan just tilted his head slightly, a very faint, fond smile playing on his lips. See? What perfect harmony. The fire in my heart to “protect my brother’s romance” burned even brighter. I even started plotting. Should I find a moment to subtly tell Austin to be a bit more attentive and public about his affection? Ethan was so amazing; there were definitely a ton of people eyeing him. After dinner, it was completely dark. The festival’s evening gala was about to start in the main auditorium. We followed the massive crowd, shoulder to shoulder. A guy was walking backward while talking on his phone, and it looked like he was about to crash right into Ethan, who was looking down at a text. “Watch out!” I didn’t even think. I stepped sideways, placing myself right in front of him. The guy collided hard with my shoulder. The impact sent me stumbling backward. The pain of hitting the ground I expected never came. A firm hand caught me squarely by the lower back. A crisp, clean scent instantly enveloped me. It was the distinct, refreshing smell of Ethan—like sunshine and cold spring water. My spine went rigid. In that moment, my heartbeat completely lost control, hammering frantically against my ribs. “You okay?” His voice sounded from right above me, his breath brushing past my hair. “I-I-I’m fine!” I bounced away like I’d been electrocuted. My face felt like it was on fire, and I didn’t dare look up at him. “Watch where you’re going,” Ethan said to the guy who was apologizing profusely. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an undeniable, chilling authority. The guy hurried away. Ethan’s gaze returned to me. He paused. “You don’t need to block for me next time.” “I-I was afraid he’d hit you…” I argued weakly in a small voice, my heart still racing. He didn’t say anything, just gave me another look. Under the sweeping event lights, his expression was unreadable. Austin walked over and threw an arm around me: “Look at you, Chloe! Already knowing how to protect your buddy Ethan! I raised you well!” I let out a few dry, awkward laughs, used the excuse of needing the restroom, and practically fled the scene. I splashed freezing water on my face to bring down the heat. Looking at my flushed cheeks and panicked eyes in the mirror, I squeezed my eyes shut fiercely. Chloe Miller, get a grip. That is your ‘Sister-in-Law.’ Just now was an accident. Your job is to protect them, not to swoon. The gala was amazing—bands, comedy sketches, alumni interviews… but I couldn’t focus on any of it. Ethan was sitting diagonally in front of me, two seats away. In the dim light, I could only see his sharp profile and his long eyelashes whenever the stage lights swept past him. He was wearing a grey button-down shirt. Under the occasional flash of light, the fabric had a soft, pearl-like sheen. I suddenly remembered Austin had a shirt in almost the exact same color… My brain uncontrollably replayed the moment he caught me earlier. The temperature of his palm, pressing against my waist through the fabric, was terrifyingly vivid. I pinched my own thigh hard. Stop thinking about it. During the second half of the event, there was an interactive segment. The host suddenly called out Ethan, who was sitting in the front row, to come up on stage and share his experience as an outstanding student leader. The spotlight hit him. He stood tall and straight, his features clean and striking. A wave of suppressed gasps and whispers instantly rippled through the audience. He took the microphone. His voice, amplified by the speakers, sounded even more grounded and magnetic than usual. His logic was sharp, every word impactful. The crowd erupted in thunderous applause. The excitement from the girls in the room could have lifted the roof. I looked at the radiant guy on stage, feeling both proud and incredibly sour. Look at how amazing my “Sister-in-Law” is. My brother seriously… how did he get so lucky? 7 I kept myself busy with this mindset for a whole week. On the weekend, my mom asked me to come home for dinner. When I opened the front door, I was stunned. Ethan Wilder was sitting right there in my living room. My brain scrambled. They were already at the “meet the parents” stage?! During dinner, I intentionally left the seat next to Austin empty and squeezed myself onto the far end of the dining table. “Chloe, why are you sitting all the way over there?” my mom asked, looking at me weirdly, since I usually loved sticking close to my brother. “There’s better ventilation here,” I said with a straight face. For the entire meal, I acted like a dedicated fan club president for their ship: “Austin, this garlic shrimp is amazing. You should try it.” “Austin, don’t just eat by yourself. Put some food on Ethan’s plate.” “Austin, Ethan seems to like this soup. Serve him another bowl.” Austin finally noticed something was wrong. He kicked me under the table: “Chloe Miller, did you take the wrong medication today?” Ethan set down his fork, his gaze lingering on my face for a moment: “I’m going to use the restroom.” After he left the table, Austin leaned in and lowered his voice: “What is your problem? Why are you sucking up to Ethan so hard?” “Austin,” I looked at him seriously. “I will support you guys. Forever.” Austin looked completely bewildered. I was so frustrated by his cluelessness. This guy. Why wasn’t he putting more effort into his own partner? With a “Sister-in-Law” as amazing as Ethan, my brother really hit the jackpot. 8 That night, my mom warmly insisted Ethan stay over. I lay in bed, tossing and turning. Finally, I accepted my fate and got up, wanting to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. As I passed the guest room, a faint sliver of light peeked out from under the door. He wasn’t asleep yet? Driven by some ghostly impulse, I leaned close, wanting to hear what was going on inside. Just as I pressed my ear against the wood— Click. The door opened. Caught completely off guard, I lunged forward. What welcomed me wasn’t the cold, hard floor, but a warm, slightly damp, solid chest. The fresh scent of body wash instantly enveloped me. I froze, slowly tilting my head up. Ethan stood in the doorway. His hair was half-wet, falling messily over his forehead, water still dripping from the ends. He only had a towel wrapped around his waist; his upper body was completely bare. Water droplets slid down his defined collarbones, tracing the tight muscles of his chest and his sculpted, washboard abs, before disappearing into the edge of the towel. The hallway light cast a soft glow over him. The fluid lines of his muscles held a silent, incredibly impactful aesthetic power. My brain completely crashed. My eyes went wide, and I forgot how to breathe. He seemed surprised for a second too. Then, in those usually calm, unreadable eyes, a hint of a teasing, knowing amusement appeared. “Chloe,” he spoke, his voice slightly low and husky from the steam. “What are you… doing out here?” “I-I-I-I…” my tongue was tied. My eyes had nowhere to look, darting around frantically, but inevitably snapping back to his body, only to bounce away again as if I’d been burned. “I came to return your phone! You… you left your phone on the living room sofa! I brought it to you!” 9 Right! The phone! I was actually holding his phone in my hand! Like I was holding a burning coal, I quickly shoved the phone into his hand, which was hanging loosely by his side. Our fingertips brushed. The cool water droplets on his skin rubbed onto me, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my fingertips. “I’m leaving! Goodnight!” I tried to run. “Wait.” He stopped me. My back stiffened. “You’re not even going to turn around?” The amusement in his voice was even more obvious now. “Were you planning to watch me change?” “!!!” With lightning speed, I whipped around, facing away from him, and clamped my hands tightly over my eyes. “I didn’t see anything! I’m leaving!” I had barely taken a single step when the sound of flip-flops shuffling down the hall reached my ears, followed by Austin’s voice: “Ethan! Have you seen my AirPods? Did I accidentally pack them in your bag—” My soul left my body! In the dead of night, wearing my pajamas, standing outside the door of a half-naked Ethan Wilder—even jumping into the Mississippi River wouldn’t wash me clean of this scene! If Austin saw me, what if he misunderstood?! What if it affected their relationship?! Just as Austin’s footsteps were about to round the corner, a warm, strong hand suddenly grabbed my wrist and yanked me backward! The world spun. I was pulled into the guest room, and the door clicked shut gently behind me. The next second, his arm wrapped around me, guiding me toward the desk. Then, without a word of explanation, he pressed me into the narrow gap between the desk and the wall. The space was too small. I was practically engulfed in his embrace. His chest was pressed against my back. Through my thin pajama shirt, I could feel his body temperature—slightly higher than mine—and the steady, powerful beating of his heart. The clean scent of his body wash, mixed with his own unique, refreshing aura, aggressively hijacked all my senses. He leaned one hand against the wall by my ear, while his other hand gently ruffled the top of my head. “Shh.” His lowered voice sounded right next to my ear, his breath brushing against my skin, sending a wave of tiny, electric shivers down my spine. I was as stiff as a board. My heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, feeling like it was going to burst out of my chest. My cheeks were definitely burning right now. I must be flushed red enough to stop traffic. Outside the door, Austin’s footsteps stopped. He knocked on the door: “Ethan? You asleep?” 10 “Just finished a shower. What’s up?” Ethan’s voice returned to its usual steady calm. “I can’t find my AirPods. Did they get mixed up in your bag again?” “…Give me a second.” He replied, then lowered his head to whisper in my ear again. “Don’t make a sound.” I bit my lower lip hard and nodded. Only then did he release me slightly, turning to rummage through his bag on the floor. I curled up in the shadows, keeping my breathing as shallow as possible. Soon, he found the AirPods, walked over to the door, opened it just a crack, and handed them out. “Thanks, man!” Austin’s voice faded down the hall. The door shut and locked again. The soft click was exceptionally loud in the silent room. My tightly wound nerves instantly snapped. My legs went weak, and I almost collapsed onto the floor. Ethan turned around, leaned against the edge of the desk, and leisurely watched my traumatized, panic-stricken state. “Scared?” I shook my head, then nodded, my voice still a bit floaty: “Did Austin… did he see? He won’t misunderstand, will he?” “Misunderstand what?” He raised an eyebrow. “Misunderstand me… and you…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Even though I liked him, he was my “Sister-in-Law” now. Ethan looked at me for a few seconds, then suddenly chuckled. It sounded a bit helpless, and a little something else. “Relax, he didn’t see.” “That’s good, that’s good.” I patted my chest to calm myself down. Only then did the realization hit me: we were currently in an incredibly intimate posture and space. He was shirtless, I was in my pajamas, it was late at night, in a closed room… Heat rushed to my face again. I frantically tried to squeeze my way out from between him and the wall. “T-then I won’t disturb your rest anymore. I’m going to head back…” “What’s the rush?” He didn’t step aside. Instead, he leaned in closer, his gaze locking onto my flickering, evasive eyes. “Chloe, you’ve been acting very strange tonight.” “No I haven’t!” I denied it immediately, but my voice lacked any real conviction. “Starting from dinner,” he stated, his finger unconsciously twirling a loose strand of my hair around and around. It tickled. “Giving me food, serving me soup, asking me all sorts of questions…” “That was me… playing the good host! Plus, you’re a guest right now, and you’re my brother’s… his…” I stumbled over the words. “Your brother’s what?” He pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “His best friend!” I said decisively. Ethan didn’t say anything. He just looked at me, his gaze deep and penetrating. Just as I was about to crack under the pressure, ready to confess that I had overheard their video call and filled in the blanks with my own imagination, he suddenly changed the subject. “If you like someone, how do you think… you should pursue them?” 11 My head snapped up, my eyes crashing into his. The teasing and scrutiny from a moment ago were gone, replaced by a trace of… rare hesitation and… shyness? Why was he asking me this? Was he… asking for advice on how to pursue my brother? The empty space in my chest started leaking cold air again. It felt cold and painful. But I, Chloe Miller, am a professional when it comes to being a supportive wing-woman! I forced what I hoped was a dazzling smile, even leaning a little closer to him. Lowering my voice, I put on the air of a tactical mastermind: “Well, it depends on the person. Different people require different approaches.” I paused, observing his expression. He was listening intently. “Uh, I’d say… being direct is best!” “How direct?” He followed up, his voice softening. In this small, quiet space, it sounded exceptionally clear, carrying a hint of coaxing persuasion. “Clean and decisive. Just go for it!” I made a fist, giving him a “trust me” look. “Be specific.” “Like… create opportunities. Physical contact. Make eye contact, spark that chemistry. And then… find the right moment, and just go in for a kiss!” The more I spoke, the quieter my voice got, and the hotter my face burned. Here I was, coaching my crush on how to forcefully kiss my own brother? What kind of twisted reality was this?! Ethan fell silent, his expression difficult to describe. “What if… the other person resists?” “Then you have to use your natural advantages to your benefit!” Frustrated by his lack of confidence, I instinctively reached up and ruffled his slightly damp hair. “Like you, Ethan. Being this handsome is your biggest advantage! Give a little smile, act a little cute—who could possibly resist that?” The moment the words left my mouth, both he and I froze. I finally realized what I had just done, my hand stiffening in his hair. He slowly raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “Really… would that work?” he asked, his voice dropping incredibly low, his eyes locked onto mine. Under that intense gaze, I felt flustered. Plus, it wasn’t like I had any actual combat experience with this question either. I braced myself, nodded emphatically, and cheered him on: “Of course it will! You have to be confident! You’re Ethan Wilder!” He looked at me, and suddenly, he started to laugh softly. The laughter rumbled from deep within his throat, vibrating in his chest. It was musical and… inexplicably seductive. “Okay.” His gaze dropped to my lips, lingering for a split second before moving away. “I’ll remember that.” “Thanks, Chloe.” I awkwardly looked away and took a deep breath. Everything for my brother’s happiness. 12 The next day, I bumped into them in the dining hall. Ethan was holding a tray. Austin was walking right behind him, casually picking a carrot off Ethan’s plate. Ethan didn’t stop him; he just shook his head slightly. That level of familiar intimacy stung my eyes. “Chloe?” Ethan saw me first. I forced a smile and walked over to them. “Hey, Brother-in-Law!” The air froze. Austin dropped his fork onto the floor. “What did you just call me?” Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Brother-in-law!” I threw caution to the wind and patted my chest. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed! If Austin ever bullies you in the future, I’ll help you beat him up!” Austin looked like he wanted to say something, but Ethan just laughed. “Chloe,” his voice dropped very low. “I think you’ve misunderstood something.” “No misunderstanding! No misunderstanding at all!” I backed up rapidly. “I get it! True love transcends gender!” With that, I turned and bolted like a deserter. I couldn’t sleep the entire night. At 4:00 AM, I sent Austin a text: “So, are you a top or a bottom?” Austin replied instantly: “???” “Someone like Ethan has to be a top, right?” I sent another text. The chat interface showed “Typing…” for three solid minutes. Finally, a voice memo came through. I tapped it, and Austin’s teeth-grinding voice blasted out: “Chloe Miller, what kind of garbage is floating around in that head of yours?!” Then, he called me directly: “Chloe Miller! What the hell are you doing?!” “I’m trying to help you!” I felt incredibly wronged. “I’m literally heartbroken, and I’m still trying to help you, and you’re yelling at me!” “Heartbroken from what? When did you even get a boyfriend?” “It was a crush!” I yelled back, frustrated tears spilling down my cheeks. “It’s gone now. I already gave Ethan up for you, and you’re still yelling at me…” He froze. His expression went from furious to stunned, and finally settled on incredibly bizarre. “You had a crush on Ethan?” “Past tense!” I wiped my face. “He’s my brother-in-law now. I’ll keep my distance, don’t worry.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426728”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 My roommate brought back a peculiar potted plant that didn’t bloom, claiming it could grant wishes. I paid it no mind, until my graduate school admission was stolen by her, and my health took a sharp turn for the worse. On my deathbed, I saw the flower finally blossom; its core was a perfect, twisted image of my face. Vicky, my roommate, stroked its petals, her smile gentle. “Thank you, Ivy. You granted my deepest desire.” I opened my eyes and found myself back on the day she carried the plant into our dorm room. “Ivy,” she asked, “should we raise it together?” I smiled and nodded. “Yes, we’ll nurture it carefully, together.” The next day, I clipped a few branches and mailed them back to her parents’ house, under her name. “Ivy, look! This is the treasure I brought back from my hometown!” Vicky’s voice vibrated with the excitement of someone presenting a precious gift, as she thumped a dusty terracotta pot onto my desk. Dust billowed, making me cough and cover my nose. Inside the pot was a strange-looking plant. It had no flowers, only a few thick, dark green leaves with ominous, dark red edges, like congealed blood. The entire plant radiated a chilling aura. I stared at it, and the suffocating sensation of my previous deathbed seized my heart. This was the plant. It was called a ‘Flesh-Wish,’ feeding on the life force of the person closest to it to grant the wishes of its caretaker. In my last life, Vicky had used it to drain everything from me. My grades, my honors, my health, and finally, my life itself. She got her wish, usurping my spot in the master’s program, snatching the national scholarship that should have been mine, and stepping over my corpse onto a bright, paved highway to success. I, meanwhile, at the age of twenty-one, had my life force utterly depleted, withering away like a faded flower on a hospital bed, silently fading. Before I died, I saw the ‘Flesh-Wish’ on the hospital windowsill finally bloom. Its blood-red petals layered upon each other, and in the center, the flower’s core was a face identical to mine, twisted in agony. Vicky sat by my bed, gently stroking that tortured face, whispering to my already voiceless body: “Ivy, don’t blame me. It’s not my fault you were better than me at everything.” “You should share a little bit of what you have, shouldn’t you?” Before my death in the previous life, I was filled with nothing but burning hatred. “Ivy? What are you staring at?” Vicky nudged me, grinning. “I’m telling you, this flower is magical! It can grant wishes!” “If we raise it together, your wishes can come true too.” Our other two roommates, Liz and Sarah, hid in the distance, their faces etched with revulsion. “Vicky, this flower looks really creepy. You should probably just throw it away,” Sarah whispered. Vicky’s face instantly darkened. “Creepy? What’s creepy about it?” “Ivy didn’t say it was creepy, so why are you making a fuss?” Sarah choked on her words, daring not to speak again. Liz just frowned, remaining silent. Our dorm was always like this: Vicky came from the wealthiest family and was accustomed to giving orders. The other two and I came from ordinary backgrounds, relying on scholarships to get by. In my previous life, I had chosen silence because I didn’t want to cause trouble, and because I understood Vicky’s personality—the more I opposed her, the more she’d dig in her heels. But my silence led to her increasingly brazen actions and my tragic death. This time, I wouldn’t be silent. No, not only would I not be silent, I would… embrace it with enthusiasm. I looked up, a brilliant smile spreading across my face. I reached out and gently touched one of the thick, fleshy leaves. It was cold and slick, like touching dead flesh. “It’s not scary at all. I think it looks so unique, really adorable.” I looked at Vicky, my eyes sincere. “Vicky, you said it can grant wishes? Is that true?” My reaction made Vicky freeze. She probably expected me to react like Liz and Sarah, urging her to throw the monstrosity away. “Of, of course it’s true!” she stammered, recovering, her voice barely concealing her triumph. “Everyone back in my hometown says so.” “That’s wonderful!” I feigned immense interest. “Then we absolutely must take good care of it. Vicky, I’ll take over the watering and fertilizing. I promise to make it grow big and strong!” Vicky’s smile froze. She eyed me suspiciously, as if trying to find a flaw in my expression. I let her scrutinize me, my gaze clear and open. After a long moment, she smiled again, though her eyes remained cold. “Alright, if our academic superstar Ivy says so, then I’ll leave it to you.” She happily shoved the flowerpot onto my desk. “Just leave it here. You love reading, don’t you? Let it keep you company and absorb some of your scholarly aura.” She had said the exact same thing in my previous life. Because the ‘Flesh-Wish’ feeds on the person closest to it. I smiled, accepting it with feigned gratitude. “Okay.” Watching her back as she walked away, a look of profound relief on her face, the smile on my lips slowly turned icy. Vicky, this time, I will help you nurture this flower very, very well. So well that you, and everyone you care about, will become its finest nourishment. 2 The next morning, while Vicky and the others were still asleep, I quietly set my plan in motion. I was a biology major, with a decent understanding of botany. In my previous life, tormented to the brink of death by this ‘Flesh-Wish,’ I had frantically scoured countless ancient texts, searching for a way to break its hold. Though I couldn’t save myself, I learned everything there was to know about this evil plant. The ‘Flesh-Wish’ was incredibly resilient, capable of asexual reproduction through grafting and cuttings. Each offshoot would establish a peculiar connection with the mother plant. They would simultaneously draw life force from their surroundings, but ultimately, all that energy would converge on the original provider – the wish-maker. At the same time, the offshoots would send energy demands back to the mother plant, which was Vicky. One ‘Flesh-Wish’ feeding on one me was enough to grant her wishes. But what if there were three, four, or even more ‘Flesh-Wish’ plants? I took out the sterile scalpel I had prepared earlier and carefully cut two of the healthiest branches from the base of the ‘Flesh-Wish’ stem. Dark red, viscous sap oozed from the cuts, emitting a metallic, rusty smell. I wrapped one of the branches in a damp paper towel and placed it in a small delivery box. The recipient was Vicky’s parents, living in their rural hometown. I had noted down their address when I helped her compile documents for a poverty assistance application last semester. For the sender, I neatly wrote her name: Vicky Chen. I even included a handwritten card, mimicking her seemingly innocent and carefree tone: “Dad, Mom, this is a treasure said to bring good luck and health.” “I planted one at school, and I’m sending you a branch specially.” “Wishing you good health and a long life!” After completing all this, I sealed the box and, as if nothing had happened, went to the cafeteria for breakfast, mailing the package on my way. The other branch was placed in a sealed bag and hidden deep inside my backpack. It had a more important purpose. When I returned to the dorm, Vicky was already awake. She sat at my desk, gazing with infatuation at the ‘Flesh-Wish’ plant. “Ivy, I just watered it. I feel like it’s grown a tiny bit,” she said excitedly. I smiled and walked over. “Really? It must really like our dorm environment then.” I glanced over, feigning indifference. Sure enough, where I had cut off two branches, two barely visible, tiny buds had already emerged. One wouldn’t notice them without looking closely. Its regenerative abilities were even stronger than I had imagined. Vicky stood up, satisfied, and clapped her hands. “Alright, I’m off to my date.” “Ivy, my precious baby is in your hands, okay?” “Don’t worry,” I waved at her. The person she was referring to as her date was Liam, the captain of the university’s basketball team. A handsome, charismatic figure from a wealthy family, with countless admirers on campus. He was also the only person who had stood up for me in my previous life, after Vicky had stolen my master’s program spot. Unfortunately, in that life, I was utterly exhausted, physically and mentally, by Vicky and the ‘Flesh-Wish,’ and had no energy to spare for anything else. In the end, Liam, because of me, became a target of Vicky’s resentment. After graduation, his business ventures repeatedly failed, leading to a miserable fate. In this life, Vicky was still relentlessly pursuing him. 3 That afternoon, we had a general education class, attended by our entire department. The lecture hall was packed. I deliberately chose the last row, where Liam and his roommates usually sat. Liam and his friends soon arrived, taking seats in the row next to me. “Hey, Ivy.” Liam greeted me directly, his tall frame radiating cheerfulness, a bright smile revealing his white teeth. I returned his smile as a greeting. Vicky saw this exchange and immediately squeezed through the rows, plopping down beside Liam and intimately linking her arm through his. “Liam, why are you sitting here?” “I thought you weren’t coming today.” Liam subtly withdrew his arm, his tone distant. “I always sit here.” Vicky’s face fell slightly, but she quickly recovered her smile and began chattering, trying to find a topic of conversation. After class, I called out to Liam. “Could you do me a favor and give this to Vicky?” I handed Liam a jade bracelet, exquisitely crafted. Within its pale green surface, a faint, dark red hue pulsed—the tiny ‘Flesh-Wish’ cutting I had hidden inside. “Why don’t you give it to her yourself?” Liam asked. “If I give it to her myself, Vicky will feel obligated to return the favor later. She helped me a lot recently, and I just want to thank her quietly. So, let’s say it’s from you.” Vicky, you like Liam so much. Let me give you a little push. “Alright,” Liam agreed. Days passed. The master’s program admission list was about to be officially announced. This was the first turning point of my destiny in my previous life. During that time, I inexplicably began to suffer from insomnia, headaches, and mental fog, yet hospital tests showed nothing wrong. Vicky, however, was radiant, brimming with joy every day. Ultimately, my name was replaced by hers. But in this life, I ate well, slept soundly, and felt an unprecedented surge of energy. It was Vicky, instead, who began to look unwell. She had heavy dark circles under her eyes, constantly dozed off in class, and her temper grew increasingly volatile. “Ivy! Can you stop flipping pages so loudly?! It’s driving me crazy!” she suddenly yelled at me. I was sitting at my desk, reviewing. Her outburst made me look at her, bewildered. Our other two roommates also cast surprised glances. “Vicky, Ivy’s turning pages very quietly,” Liz whispered. “I just think it’s loud! Is that a crime?” Vicky retorted unreasonably. Liz flinched, not daring to speak further. I closed my book and looked at her. “Vicky, have you not been getting enough rest lately? You look terrible.” “Mind your own business!” she glared at me fiercely, then rolled onto her bed and pulled the covers over her head. I ignored her. I knew. The ‘Flesh-Wish’ backlash had begun. The bigger her wish, the greater the ‘cost’ she had to pay. Admission to a master’s program, for someone with her grades, was undoubtedly a monumental wish. One mother plant, two offshoots – a threefold drain on her life force – was already starting to take its toll. That night, Vicky received a call from her mother. She hid on the balcony, speaking in a hushed tone, but I still caught snippets. “What? It’s worse again? How could this be… Weren’t you taking your medicine…” “Mom, don’t panic. I… I’ll come home tomorrow…” After she hung up, she walked back in, looking utterly distraught, her eyes red-rimmed. “Vicky, what’s wrong?” I asked, feigning concern. She glanced at me, hesitated, then shook her head. “Nothing.” In my previous life, her parents’ health, while not perfect, was never this severe. It seemed my ‘gift’ had reached them.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426727”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 At Victoria’s promotion banquet, in front of a room of corporate elites, she raised the limit on my linked credit card from $3,000 to $5,000. “Consider the extra two grand your pocket money for staying home with our kid,” she said, her voice full of CEO condescension. I declined, saying I had my own money, but her face darkened instantly. “Don’t I work hard for you and our daughter? Spend it. Max it out—I’ll make more,” she snapped. Her sycophants chimed in, praising her as a “true alpha” and joking about marrying her to be a kept man. That phrase stung, but seeing her excited face, I stayed silent. Days later, I accidentally charged $30 to the card. She dragged me into her company, shoved me in front of her staff, and shouted, “I gave you $5,000 and you blew it in a day?” “Get on your knees, kiss the floor five times, and swear you’ll never waste my money again—or I’ll divorce you.” Amid the crowd’s contempt, I tore off my jacket. “Fine. Let’s divorce. I’ll take full custody of our daughter.” Victoria laughed mockingly. “Everything on you is bought with my money. You’re broke—you can’t fight me for custody.” I met her eyes with a cold sneer. She was wrong. I didn’t have $200. I had $200 million. That morning, I had been slow-cooking a beef stew at home when Victoria violently yanked me out of the kitchen and dragged me to her office. Without warning, she kicked me squarely in the kneecap. Caught off guard, I crashed down onto one knee. Her perfectly manicured acrylic nails dug viciously into my forehead, jabbing me with every word. “Look at this materialistic, parasitic excuse for a man. I just opened that five-grand line of credit yesterday, and it’s already drained.” “My parents were right about you. You are a gold digger. You only married me for my bank account.” A dark wave of anger churned in my gut. But remembering that she was the mother of my little girl, I swallowed the fire burning in my throat. “What are you talking about, Victoria? I only spent thirty bucks today, and even that was an accident.” I patted my aching knee and tried to stand up. Suddenly, a heavy blow slammed into the back of my leg. A sickening crunch echoed through the room. My knee buckled involuntarily as blinding, agonizing pain crushed the air out of my lungs. I looked up. It was Blake, Victoria’s male secretary. He had sneaked up behind me and smashed a heavy wooden broom handle directly into my joint. He stood over me, puffing out his chest with sheer arrogance. “Did the boss give you permission to stand up? You don’t move until she says so.” “A freeloader like you belongs on his knees. You’re starting to forget your place in the food chain.” The dull, throbbing agony radiating from my shattered knee left me drenched in a cold sweat. But I was not a punching bag. “Who the hell do you think you are, barking at me?” I spat out. “What happens between my wife and me is none of your damn business.” The moment the words left my mouth, a brutal slap tore across my right cheek. The skin felt like it was ripping apart. “Who the hell do you think you are, talking to my employee like that?” Victoria screamed. “Blake is a hundred times the man you are. At least every dollar he spends is earned through his own hard work.” “If you want to live off my dime, you better show some gratitude. You think a kept man gets to eat his meals standing up?” “If you don’t kiss the floor five times right now and say ‘I am sorry my queen’ five hundred times, you are not walking out of here.” The metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth. I pressed my tongue hard against my loose back teeth, swallowing the hot liquid pooling in my throat. “I told you, I didn’t spend that five grand. I only used thirty dollars.” Her fury exploded. She grabbed me by the collar, shaking me violently. “The bank sent the notification directly to my phone. The limit is maxed out. If it wasn’t you, who was it?” “So now you’re not just a leech, you’re a liar too?” “My mother and sister were absolutely right. Poverty breeds deceit. You are nothing but a con artist trying to drain my accounts.” A suffocating wave of humiliation washed over me. I stiffened my neck, refusing to bow my head to her madness. “I said I didn’t spend it. And frankly, I have my own money. Victoria, the truth is, while I’ve been at home…” A chorus of roaring laughter erupted from the crowd, violently cutting off my confession. “He says he has his own money. What kind of cash does a house-husband who never sees the sun actually make?” “Did you hoard some loose quarters from the grocery change? If Victoria wasn’t out here crushing it in the corporate world, you’d be starving on the streets.” “Look at that grease stain on his shirt. I don’t know what the boss ever saw in him. Just looking at him makes me want to throw up.” “She just liked his face. He looks like a gentleman, but underneath, he’s just pure trash.” Victoria frowned, listening to the mocking whispers. Her face twisted into a mask of total disgust. “Are you done throwing this tantrum? Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough? Since you refuse to admit it, I will show you exactly what you did.” She threw her phone onto the marble floor. “Look at it yourself. Look at the itemized bill.” A coworker standing nearby eagerly snatched up the phone and gasped. “Oh my god. Three hotel room bookings in a single day. Five boxes of premium condoms. And three grand dropped on luxury lingerie.” “Just how thirsty are you? Hooking up three times a day?” “What a degenerate. If Victoria divorces him, I’d gladly take his place. I eat less and spend less.” Victoria ignored the chatter, her eyes locked onto mine like twin glaciers. “You are cheating on me behind my back, and I am only asking you to kneel and apologize. I’d say I am being incredibly generous.” “If you keep acting up, we are done.” There was no point in arguing anymore. I was completely utterly baffled by that bank statement. Trembling from the agonizing pain in my knee, I forced myself up. I intended to wait until she came home to properly explain things. But the second I got my footing, Blake lunged. He grabbed the back of my neck and slammed my face brutally into the freezing tile floor. “Where do you think you’re going? You piss off our boss and think you can just walk away? Fine, you don’t want to kiss the floor. Crawl between her legs.” He said he wanted me to crawl under Victoria’s legs, but Blake deliberately spread his own legs wide, standing right in front of my face. I would rather die than be humiliated like this. Ignoring the screaming pain radiating through my entire body, I thrashed wildly, managing to break his grip. Before anyone could react, I threw a desperate, bone-crushing punch straight into Blake’s jaw. “Back the hell off. My family’s business is not for you to decide.” Blake crashed to the floor, five red finger marks instantly swelling on his cheek. Victoria shrieked. She threw herself onto the floor beside him, her hands gently and tenderly tracing the red marks on his face. The absolute heartbreak and pity overflowing in her eyes felt like a barrage of silver needles piercing my flesh. I knew that look. I had seen that exact look before. Years ago, when I accidentally burned my hand cooking her dinner, she had wrapped me in that exact same gaze. She had blamed herself, crying and promising, “I will work so hard. I’ll make enough money to hire a private chef so you never have to burn yourself again.” But I hadn’t seen that desperate, loving look directed at me in years. Lately, even when she came home to a hot meal, her face was twisted in disgust. “Chicken stew again? It smells disgusting.” “Why can’t you do anything right? You are completely useless.” My heart violently twisted in my chest. My breathing turned shallow and ragged. Because in that moment, I knew the truth. My wife had already given her heart to someone else. 2 An overwhelming tide of grief threatened to drown me completely. I wandered home like a ghost. My parents had just arrived to drop off Lily. Seeing my bruised and battered state, the color completely drained from their faces. “Jason, what happened to you? Please don’t scare us like this.” I didn’t want the two old folks to worry, so I brushed it off, muttering something about feeling a little sick. My mother’s heart ached for me. She silently started gathering up the massive pile of dirty laundry in the corner, stuffing it into a large canvas bag. “Take a break from the chores for a few days. I’ll take these home and wash them for you. If something is wrong, you have to tell your mother, okay?” The moment those words left her lips, the front door screeched open. Victoria marched in, trailing a crew of internet vloggers holding massive cameras. They walked right into the living room and immediately spotted my mother holding the stuffed laundry bag. Victoria’s expression instantly turned into a venomous snarl. “No wonder you burn through money so fast. You’ve been secretly funneling it to your pathetic parents.” “What did you two old thieves steal from my house this time? Trying to pawn off my things to fund your deadbeat younger son?” After spitting that poison, she turned gracefully toward the cameras, wearing a polite, elegant smile. “I originally wanted to give you guys a house tour, but it seems you’ve walked into a bit of a circus.” “You guessed right. My husband sits at home eating my food, spending my money, and secretly steals my belongings to subsidize his loser brother.” “To be completely honest, my husband can blow through five grand in a single day. I might make a decent living, but I can’t sustain a parasite like this.” Hearing those venomous words, my mother’s face went completely white. Trembling, she reached out and gently tugged at Victoria’s sleeve. “Victoria, please, listen to me. These aren’t…” Victoria viciously swatted my mother’s hand away, screaming right in her face. “Aren’t what? Aren’t things you stole from me?” “Spill it. How much cash did he secretly hand over to you this time? Is it hidden in here?” Right in front of the flashing cameras, Victoria lunged forward and actually began clawing at my mother’s blouse. It was the dead of summer. My mother was wearing a simple, conservative floral button-down. With one violent yank, Victoria tore the fabric open, exposing my mother’s camisole and half her shoulder. My deeply traditional mother froze, tears instantly welling up in her red eyes. But Victoria was relentless. “Did you stuff it in your bra? Or is it in your socks?” “The money I bleed for is not going to fund that useless brother-in-law of mine.” My mother stumbled backward under the assault, desperately trying to defend herself. “My younger son got a city hall job. He is not a loser.” “I swear to God we have never taken a single penny from you. We have our own retirement money.” Victoria let out a shrieking, demonic laugh. “What money? How much corn can you grow on your tiny plot of land? How much does that sell for?” “So what if he works for the city? He makes pennies. He can’t even afford a wife.” “Take off your pants. Let me see if you hid my cash in your underwear.” Watching Victoria cross every conceivable line, actually reaching down to forcefully rip off my mother’s trousers, the veins in my temples pulsed with blinding rage. “Enough. Get your hands off her. I said enough.” I lunged forward, grabbed Victoria by the wrist, and hurled her onto the floor. Victoria sat there stunned for a few seconds before morphing into an absolute banshee, launching herself at me. “You dare hit me? Who the hell do you think you are to lay a hand on me?” “You defend this old hag today, who knows what you’ll do tomorrow.” “You still haven’t explained how you blew five grand on hotel rooms, and now you are slipping cash to these leeches. I am absolutely done with this marriage.” She clawed desperately at my face. I stumbled back, trying to block her wild scratches. “Shut your mouth, you monster.” A fierce, authoritative voice ripped through the room. My mother, her hair totally disheveled, her blouse still ripped open, stood there with furious, bloodshot eyes. She screamed directly at Victoria. “You wanted to see what was in the bag so badly? I’ll show you.” She flipped the heavy canvas bag upside down. A mountain of dirty shirts, soiled pants, and stained socks rained down onto the hardwood floor. “Is doing your family’s dirty laundry a crime now?” Staring at the massive pile of unwashed clothes, a brief flicker of guilt flashed across Victoria’s eyes. But she masked it instantly, reverting back to her tyrannical self. “Even if you didn’t steal today, what about last time? What about the time before that?” “Every single one of you is just a blood-sucking tick trying to drain me dry.” “Your son is a useless piece of garbage who cheats on me. The apple clearly doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’re just a bunch of broke, pathetic rats.” Watching my elderly parents hang their heads under this relentless barrage of abuse, something inside me completely snapped. I closed the distance between us and delivered a resounding, full-force slap across Victoria’s cheek. “Divorce. We are getting a divorce. I am not spending another second in this living hell.” Victoria’s head snapped to the side. Tears welled up in her eyes. She glared at me, playing the ultimate victim. “Jason, I feed you. I house you. I gave you a child. You cheat on me, and now you demand a divorce?” “I don’t agree to it. I will never agree to it.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426726”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In my previous life, my boyfriend Bobby ripped my priceless Water Affinity right out of my soul and handed it over to his precious golden girl, Lyla. They dumped me in the wasteland like a piece of trash, leaving me to bake into a mummified corpse under the scorching desert sun. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day my powers awakened. A mechanical, icy voice echoed in my mind. [Please select your ability conduit: A. Equivalent Exchange. B. Lifespan Consumption.] Looking at the two hypocrites standing in front of me, I swallowed down a tidal wave of pure hatred and made my choice without a single heartbeat of hesitation. “I choose B.” You wanted my powers so badly, Lyla? Take them. Let’s see how well you play the untouchable beauty when you are wearing the face of a shriveled old crone. 1 My skin had cracked and blistered against the boiling desert sands. In the final moments before my consciousness faded, completely drained of moisture, the last thing burned into my vision was the nauseating sight of Bobby and Lyla standing over me. I hated them. God, I hated them. In my past life, when the Scorched Earth apocalypse hit, I awakened the ultra-rare Water Affinity. The system gave me two choices for my power source: Equivalent Exchange or Lifespan Consumption. Terrified of dying young, I chose the former. Every single day, I carefully extracted moisture from dirt and dead wood, trading physical matter to provide our survival camp with their only source of drinking water. I honestly thought my absolute devotion and caution would earn Bobby’s loyalty and protection. I was dead wrong. In his eyes, I would never hold a candle to Lyla, his childhood sweetheart. To ensure Lyla lived like a queen in the wasteland, he used his incredibly rare Siphon ability to forcibly rip my Water Affinity right out of my chest and graft it onto her. I was reduced to a crippled mortal. They tossed me into a dusty corner, and during a violent raid for supplies, I was left behind to die of dehydration under the merciless sun. “Serena! Serena, wake up!” My eyes snapped open. Blinding sunlight and a suffocating wave of heat instantly swallowed me. Hovering above me was Bobby’s familiar, detestable face. He was shaking my shoulders in an absolute panic. I was reborn. The cold, mechanical voice chimed in my head once more. [System Alert: Host mental state stabilized. Water Affinity awakened.] [Please select your ability conduit: A. Equivalent Exchange. B. Lifespan Consumption.] I was back. I was actually back. Back to the exact moment my powers manifested. My heart slammed against my ribs in a chaotic mix of wild ecstasy and homicidal rage. “Babe, are you okay? You awakened the Water Affinity!” Bobby’s voice trembled with poorly suppressed excitement. Standing right behind him, Lyla watched me with a highly calculated look, a frail, innocent smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It was exactly the same. Exactly like my past life. You love my powers that much? Perfect. In this life, I am going to give you a gift. A little surprise bought and paid for with human life. I lowered my eyelashes, burying the lethal intent exploding in my pupils. When I looked up again, I grabbed my head with both hands. My body began to violently convulse. I drained all the blood from my face. “It hurts. It hurts so much,” I gasped out, my voice ragged. “There is something inside my body. It’s tearing me apart. I can’t control it.” My acting was absolutely flawless. Anyone watching would assume this was severe biological rejection, a common side effect for newly awakened mutants. Bobby immediately pulled me into a tight, dramatic embrace, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Don’t panic. This is normal for a new awakening. Your body is just too frail. I’ve got you.” He glanced up at Lyla. His eyes were swimming with toxic, sacrificial love, while Lyla perfectly mirrored his gaze with a look of deep, theatrical concern. I knew the script. The circus act was about to begin. While leaning weakly against Bobby’s chest, I gave the system my final answer. “I choose option B. Lifespan Consumption.” The moment the choice locked in, I could have sworn I heard a demon laughing in the back of my mind. You wanted my power so desperately, Lyla? Let’s see how much you enjoy it when your youth rots away from the inside out. 2 I played the agony to the absolute limit. I slumped heavily against Bobby, hyperventilating as if I were about to pass out entirely. The rest of the survival squad crowded around us. Their cracked, bleeding lips and desperate eyes screamed of their thirst. But seeing my body violently rejecting the new power, their desperation morphed into anxiety and thinly veiled frustration. “Bobby, what are we supposed to do? Serena is in no shape to produce water!” one of the scavengers yelled, his voice cracking. “Yeah, we are dying of thirst out here!” Lyla stepped forward right on cue. She bit her lower lip, her voice sickeningly gentle. “Bobby, don’t force her. Look how much pain she is in. Awakening a power is a life-or-death gamble. With a constitution as weak as hers, forcing her to use it will literally kill her.” Bobby looked at Lyla with an aching tenderness. Then, a look of profound, heroic resolve washed over his face. “Everyone, calm down! I have a solution.” He took a deep breath. “Serena, my gift is Siphoning. Using it drains me heavily, but for you, and for this team, it is a risk I have to take. I will temporarily transfer your power into Lyla. Her physical stats are much higher than yours. She can produce the water we need, and once you fully recover, I will return the power to you. How does that sound?” Temporarily. What a beautiful lie. Return it. What a joke. In my past life, I was absolutely blinded by his deep, emotional performance. I actually thought he was putting his life on the line to save mine. I sneered internally, but on the outside, I forced out a weak, deeply moved smile. Tears pooled perfectly in my eyes. “Bobby. If you do this for me, won’t it damage your body? I can handle the pain, really.” “Don’t be silly. I’d do anything for you,” Bobby interrupted, his tone practically bleeding devotion. He didn’t give me a chance to argue. He slammed one hand onto my shoulder and the other onto Lyla’s. A massive, invisible force ripped through my core. I could physically feel the aquatic energy connected to my very soul being brutally hijacked, dragged out of my veins, and forced into Lyla’s body. Bobby’s face went chalk white. Beads of cold sweat erupted across his forehead. He swayed on his feet. That was the price of the Siphon. He was burning his own lifespan to make the transfer. Serves him right. When the final thread of energy severed from me, Lyla’s eyes snapped open, glowing with a brilliant, euphoric light. She eagerly raised her hand, palm facing the sky. “Water! I can feel the water!” A second later, a crystal-clear stream materialized out of thin air, spiraling elegantly above her palm before cascading down into the cracked, barren dirt. It hit the hot soil with a loud sizzle. “It’s water! Actual water!” “Lyla is incredible! We are saved!” The entire camp exploded into sheer delirium. Everyone rushed Lyla, forming a tight circle around her, gazing up at her with a feverish, cult-like worship. As for me? I was shoved aside so violently I crashed into the dirt. Bobby, the man who had just promised to protect me with his life, stood proudly by Lyla’s side, basking in her glory. I sat in the dust, wiping the dirt off my cheek. I hope you love the gift, you two. Lyla became the undisputed god of the camp. Everyone treated her like royalty, orbiting her like she was the center of the universe. “Lyla, I am so parched. Can I have just a sip?” “Lyla, my blades are covered in mutant blood. Can I get a rinse?” “Lyla, the heat is brutal today. Everyone is exhausted. Do you think you could… maybe give us a little rain to cool off?” She agreed to absolutely everything. She was completely addicted to the intoxicating rush of causing a crowd to cheer with a simple flick of her wrist. Spring water, hovering liquid spheres, even absurdly wasteful artificial rain showers. She squandered the stolen power with zero hesitation, pushing her status to absolute deity levels. She even conjured enough pure water to take a full bath. In the wasteland, bathing was an extravagance reserved for emperors. Basking in the jealous, awe-struck stares of the other women, her vanity fed on the attention like a parasite. I was entirely forgotten. The only time anyone remembered I existed was during ration distribution, when they would toss me the moldy, hardened scraps like a stray dog. I didn’t care. I just sat in the shadows, coldly watching Lyla summon water again and again. With every single drop that materialized, I could almost see the silver threads weaving into her hair. Karma didn’t keep me waiting long. Just three days later, after a massive water conjuring, Lyla instinctively pulled out her prized pocket mirror to admire her own reflection. A bloodcurdling, ear-piercing scream shattered the silence of the camp. 3 The scavengers rushed over in a panic. Lyla was pointing a trembling finger at her own face. The mirror slipped from her grip and shattered on the rocks. “My eyes. What is happening to my eyes?” Her voice was a hysterical, terrified quiver. The people closest to her leaned in. They gasped. The skin around the corners of her eyes, which had been flawless and tight that morning, was now etched with deep, unmistakable crow’s feet. “You’re probably just exhausted, Lyla. You’ve been working way too hard for us lately,” one of the men offered, his voice lacking conviction. Lyla snatched up a broken shard of the mirror, her panic skyrocketing by the second. It wasn’t just the wrinkles. Her vibrant, glowing hair looked completely fried. It was dull, brittle, and lifeless. A dark, terrifying premonition twisted in her gut. But the sheer addiction to the camp’s worship pushed the fear down. To secure her crown and prove to everyone that she was perfectly fine, she decided to pull a massive stunt. “Everyone, watch this!” Lyla climbed onto the roof of an abandoned transport truck. She took a deep breath, pushing the hijacked power to its absolute limit. “I am going to bring a true oasis down upon us!” Dark clouds aggressively materialized overhead. A torrential downpour crashed into the desert camp. Men and women danced in the mud, screaming her name, chanting for their goddess. Lyla stood perfectly in the center of the deluge, soaking in the god-like worship with a deeply satisfied smirk. What she couldn’t feel was the massive, terrifying volume of life force being violently sucked out of her marrow to fuel the storm. The rain stopped. When the clouds parted and the blinding desert sun illuminated Lyla’s face, the cheering died instantly. A graveyard silence fell over the camp. Absolute horror was painted on every single face in the crowd. Lyla’s previously youthful, delicate face was literally sagging before their eyes. Her cheeks were hollow and drooping. Deep, heavy laugh lines carved into her face like ravines. And the most terrifying part of all: thick strands of her hair had turned a stark, sickly gray under the sunlight. She no longer looked like a vibrant twenty-year-old. She looked like a haggard, exhausted woman pushing forty. Lyla sensed the dead silence. Her hands shot up, frantically feeling her own face. “My face. Oh my god, what is wrong with my face?!” Overnight, the wasteland goddess mutated into a monster. No one dared to flatter her anymore. The entire squad avoided her like the plague, casting fearful, paranoid glances her way. “Look at her. I swear she aged another year just walking over here.” “That power is cursed. Do you think she’s trading her actual life for the water?” “Shut up! Keep your voice down, or she’ll cut off our supply!” The whispers acted like toxic needles, driving themselves deep into Lyla’s fragile psyche. She locked herself in her tent. She shattered every reflective surface she could find. She spent her days entirely consumed by the suffocating terror of her own rapid decay. Finally, she completely snapped. “Bobby! Get your ass in here right now!” a hysterical, demonic shriek erupted from the tent. Bobby rushed inside, only to find a woman who looked like a deranged asylum patient. She lunged at him, grabbing him by the collar with claw-like fingers. “What the hell is happening to me? What kind of demonic curse did you put inside my body? It is eating my life! It is eating me alive!” Lyla sobbed, her voice raw and jagged. Bobby was equally horrified. Staring at Lyla’s sagging, aged face, a spike of pure ice drove straight up his spine. He wasn’t an idiot. Remembering how violently Serena had convulsed during her awakening, and seeing Lyla’s rapid decay, the truth slammed into him like a freight train. Serena’s Water Affinity demanded lifespan as payment. “I. I had no idea it would do this.” Bobby’s voice shook violently. He tried to peel her off him, but she clung to him like a rabid dog. “You didn’t know?!” Lyla viciously slapped him across the face. “You jammed this death sentence into my soul. And now you tell me you didn’t know?!” She hammered her fists against his chest like a maniac. “Give it back to her! Right now! Do it right now! Give this fucking curse back to that bitch! I don’t want it! I refuse to get old! I don’t want to die!” Her paralyzing fear of aging entirely obliterated her lust for power. Right now, her only goal in life was to throw this ticking time bomb back into the hands of its original owner. Under Lyla’s violent demands, and driven by his own rising terror, Bobby caved. He stumbled out of the tent and marched straight over to where I was sitting in the dirt, idly drawing circles with a dried twig. “Serena.” I looked up slowly, meeting his eyes with absolute deadpan silence. “It seems this ability is better suited for you,” he panted, out of breath. “Lyla’s body can’t handle the strain. I am returning it to you.” 4 His tone was incredibly arrogant, laced with a sickening sense of pity. “This is your destiny, Serena. Do your part and serve the camp until your time is up.” Lyla practically crawled out of the tent, her bloodshot eyes locked onto me like a predator. The rest of the camp gathered around, their faces plastered with cruel, expectant sneers. Bobby didn’t waste another second. He clamped one hand onto my wrist, grabbed Lyla’s trembling hand with the other, and forced his vile ability to activate. “Siphon!” A massive, familiar surge of energy rushed back into my body like a flock of birds returning to the nest. My veins burned with life. I could feel every inch of my skin, every single cell, practically singing in ecstasy. The moment the transfer finished, Bobby swayed violently. His face turned the color of ash. He looked completely hollowed out. But he ignored his own condition. Just like everyone else, his eyes were glued to me. “Do it! Use the power!” Lyla shrieked. She was vibrating with anticipation, desperate to see my skin wrinkle and my hair turn white. “You have the power now, right? Make some water for us!” “Yeah, come on! We’re thirsty!” someone in the crowd mocked. They were all waiting for it. Waiting for me to age. Waiting for my youth to evaporate. Waiting for me to suffer a fate far worse than Lyla’s. In that exact split second, the cold, mechanical voice chimed clearly in the center of my mind. [System Alert: Conduit mode reset.] [Please select your ability conduit: A. Equivalent Exchange. B. Lifespan Consumption.] “Why aren’t you doing it? Are you scared?” Lyla’s shrill voice cut through the air. Seeing my face remain perfectly youthful after receiving the power, a sliver of deep panic began to gnaw at her. “Serena, stop playing games. Produce the water right now!” Bobby barked. He assumed I was just stalling, trying to run away from my inevitable death sentence. Scared? I smiled. In the silence of my mind, I gave the system my final command. “I choose A. Equivalent Exchange.” In a fraction of a second, the fundamental nature of the energy coursing through my veins completely transformed. The violent, life-devouring parasite vanished, replaced by a pure, gentle, elemental force that seamlessly fused with my soul. Under the suspicious, hostile glares of the entire camp, I casually stood up and walked over to a pile of dried, rotted wood we used for firewood. “What the hell is she doing?” “Stop acting crazy!” Lyla and Bobby stared at me unblinkingly. They couldn’t compute why I wasn’t screaming in pain like they expected. I slowly raised my hand and pressed my palm flat against the dead timber. The next second, a miracle occurred. A surge of crystal-clear water, moving as if it had a mind of its own, erupted from the exact spot where my skin touched the dry wood. It cascaded to the ground, instantly forming a pristine, bubbling spring in the dirt. My complexion was glowing. My energy was practically radiating. There was absolutely zero sign of aging. Dead silence. Time literally froze in the camp. Every single expression completely solidified. The cruelty, the mockery, the gleeful anticipation of my suffering. It all shattered, instantly replaced by unfathomable shock and raw, unadulterated horror. “No. That’s impossible.” Lyla was the first to break. She let out a guttural shriek. “How is this happening?! Why aren’t you getting old?! Why?!” She couldn’t process what she was seeing. The exact same ability. On her, it was a lethal, parasitic curse. But in my hands, it was effortless. It was totally harmless. Bobby looked like he had been struck by lightning. He staggered backward, his face totally devoid of blood. He stared at me, then stared at the endless stream of pure water pouring onto the sand. A terrifying realization detonated inside his skull. The power didn’t work the way they thought it did. The rest of the scavengers didn’t even dare to breathe. They stared blankly at me, watching the endless flow of water, looking back up at my flawless, radiant face. The contempt in their eyes vanished entirely, instantly replaced by sheer awe and bone-deep terror. They finally realized the catastrophic magnitude of their mistake. They had treated the true god like a sacrificial lamb. And they had worshipped a pathetic, thieving clown as their savior. I pulled my hand back. The water stopped instantly. Looking at their horrified, trembling faces, a vicious, deeply satisfying thrill of vengeance washed over me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426725”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I just landed a billion-dollar deal for the company. My wife, the CEO, was overjoyed and promised to reward me with a house. She excitedly showed me a luxury villa she’d built for me in The Sims, complete with a digital ocean view. “Move in here for now,” she said, promising to build the real thing once profits doubled. Later, I stumbled upon a post by her male assistant—a photo of a $30 million beachfront estate, captioned: “A gift from my boss. Real love means exclusive pampering.” Suddenly, it all made sense. Money wasn’t the issue; I just wasn’t worth it to her. Without a word, I quietly liked the post. Within minutes, the comments exploded. My wife called, frantic, claiming the estate was just a “corporate incentive” to motivate the team. She begged me to undo the like, dismiss the rumors, and even promised we could try for a baby this year. But I’d had enough of her empty promises. “Save the excuses,” I told her. “I want a divorce.” 1 The moment the words left my mouth, Victoria’s tone shifted from panicked to bitterly annoyed. “I am literally just trying to incentivize my employees. Half of this company belongs to you, so I’m doing this for our future!” She let out a harsh breath. “If you don’t want to appreciate my hard work, fine. But don’t you dare joke about divorce. Marriage is not a game, Earl. Consider this your first and last warning.” “I gave you the chance to fix this mess, and you refused. So don’t blame me when I stop protecting your reputation.” She hung up on me, the line clicking dead in my ear. Standing in the long queue at the City Hall courthouse, I let out a long, heavy sigh. She didn’t get it. I was just so unbelievably tired. This time, the word ‘divorce’ was not a threat. It was a promise. The line was moving agonizingly slow. Clutching my ticket number, I mindlessly scrolled through my phone. Underneath Oliver’s Instagram post, the comment thread was turning into a warzone. Most of it was my own project team, furiously defending me. “Stealing another man’s wife? Raised with great morals, I see. Teach me how to be a professional sugar baby, will you?” “Preach. Working overtime means nothing compared to having a sweet mouth. Zero actual skills but skyrocketing up the corporate ladder. Wish I figured out the cheat code sooner.” The passive-aggressive shade was endless. No wonder Victoria couldn’t hold back and called to threaten me into doing damage control. Her precious boy toy was getting ripped to shreds online. But my team was only spitting facts. Aside from his pretty face and boyish charm, Oliver was utterly useless. Yet, Victoria had personally tossed out resumes from Harvard and Yale graduates, breaking every company protocol to hire a kid who barely scraped through a community college. When the rumors first started flying and the office morale tanked, I had gone to her, genuinely asking for her reasoning. She had looked at me with deep disappointment. “Earl, I thought of all people, you would understand me. Instead, you’re being an elitist snob just like the rest of the board. Have you forgotten our core values? We built this firm to give everyone an equal shot, especially young people who just need a chance to prove themselves.” Like a fool, I believed her. I actually felt deeply ashamed of my own prejudice. I immediately told HR to stop filtering by degrees and start hiring based on raw talent and drive. A week later, HR hired a decent applicant from a lesser-known state school. Victoria dragged the HR director into her office and screamed at him for three hours straight. “Do we look like a charity? Since when do we let community college trash walk through our front doors? If you can’t handle a simple hiring process, pack your desk and get the hell out.” That was when I learned that her so-called ‘equal opportunity’ applied exclusively to Oliver. My phone buzzed. A message from my lead developer popped up on the screen. “Don’t be sad, Chief. We’re tearing him apart for you.” Looking at the flood of goofy, supportive memes in our group chat, the tight knot in my chest loosened a fraction. I was just typing out a message, telling them to ease up before they got in trouble, when a company-wide email notification dropped from Victoria. “Any employee caught slacking off on social media during business hours will have their monthly salary halved and all performance bonuses revoked. A second offense will result in immediate termination.” Attached was a penalty list. I scrolled through it and barked out a dry, humorless laugh. Every single employee who had liked or left positive comments on Oliver’s post was completely ignored. The only people fined were my team members. Instantly, my phone blew up. The group chat descended into pure chaos. “She is taking this way too far! This isn’t about enforcing rules, she is straight-up targeting the Chief!” “Chief, are you thinking about starting your own firm? Or jumping ship?” “Wherever you go, we follow!” Seeing their righteous anger, a wave of guilt washed over me. After seven years of marriage, Victoria knew me inside and out. She knew my biggest weakness was my fierce loyalty to my people. So, whenever I stepped out of line, whenever I didn’t bow down to her whims, she made my team’s lives a living hell. I had swallowed my pride and endured it time and time again. But today, the well of my patience had completely run dry. I dialed a number I had ignored for months. The voice on the other end answered on the second ring, practically vibrating with excitement. “Earl! Tell me you’ve finally seen the light and you’re coming to join us. We have an executive suite waiting for you!” “I have one condition,” I said quietly. “Name it. One, ten, a hundred conditions, whatever you want. The board will approve it.” “I’m bringing my entire team with me.” The man gasped in pure delight. “Are you kidding me? I’ll have the contracts drafted in ten minutes. I’ll double whatever they’re making right now. No, triple it!” My department had always been the top-earning division in our industry. Yet, because of my turbulent relationship with my wife, they were constantly denied promotions, used as leverage to keep me on a tight leash. Not anymore. By the time I finished securing their futures, my number was called. I walked up to the glass window and slid the divorce application forward. It had been seven years. Victoria had probably forgotten entirely. Back when we were desperately in love and dirt poor, we had signed a mutual separation clause. We promised each other an easy out, vowing that if we ever turned toxic, we would let the other go without a legal bloodbath. We both cried that night, swearing we would never need to use that piece of paper. Yet here I was, cashing it in. The clerk looked at the forms, then at me. “Sir, I still need confirmation from your spouse that the marriage is irretrievably broken before I can process the fast-track paperwork.” Sighing, I called Victoria. She forwarded it straight to voicemail. Again and again. Ten minutes ticked by. The people behind me were starting to grumble. Even the clerk was giving me a weary, impatient look. Having no other choice, I pulled up Oliver’s Instagram. Unsurprisingly, he had just posted a live story. Victoria was in his kitchen, wearing an apron over her designer dress, smiling brightly as she cooked him lunch. I swiped to the next slide, showing the clerk the massive pile of luxury watches, limited-edition sneakers, and the thirty-million-dollar real estate deed Victoria had gifted him. The annoyance in the clerk’s eyes instantly melted into deep, uncomfortable pity. She stopped asking questions. “The paperwork will be processed. You can come back tomorrow to pick up your finalized divorce certificate.” “Thank you.” I let out a breath I felt like I had been holding for years and walked out into the crisp afternoon air. Just as I reached my car, Victoria finally called back. 2 “Are you starting to panic now?” her voice dripped with arrogant condescension. “I tried to talk sense into you, but you wouldn’t listen. I am absolutely furious right now, so whatever pathetic apology you have prepared, save it. I have to work late tonight, so I won’t be coming home. Take the night to seriously reflect on your behavior.” Before she could hang up, I clearly heard Oliver’s voice whining in the background. “Victoria, which suit should I wear for my birthday dinner tonight?” The line abruptly cut off. Today wasn’t my birthday. It wasn’t hers either. It was Oliver’s. Working late? Just another garbage excuse to throw her boy toy a lavish party. Victoria grew up in a severely abusive household. Birthdays were a source of deep psychological trauma for her. To protect her peace, I had never celebrated my own birthday in seven years, just to avoid triggering her memories. But for Oliver, she was willing to break all her own rules. I guess love really was a miracle cure. Pushing the bitter taste down, I drove straight to a high-end steakhouse to meet my team and the reps from the new company. Once the massive compensation packages were signed and sealed, the tension broke. My guys surrounded me, patting my back, offering a mix of sympathy and relief. “Chief, listen to us. A wife whose heart belongs in someone else’s pocket is dead weight. You’re dodging a bullet.” I offered a quiet, self-deprecating smile. My mind briefly drifted to the first time I met Victoria. She was wearing a faded cotton dress, standing awkwardly in a crowded room, so painfully shy she couldn’t even maintain eye contact. Now, she lied with the ease of breathing, carving me hollow without a second thought. But hadn’t I created this monster? In the beginning, I loved her so fiercely that no matter how terribly she messed up, a single tear from her was enough to make me forgive her. She learned quickly that I had no boundaries. So she started pushing them. When she made a mistake, she offered a half-hearted apology. If I didn’t instantly cave, she would sabotage my work until I submitted. It escalated over the years until she crossed lines I never thought possible. I handed her the knife, over and over, hoping each time would be the last. I was such an idiot. Shaking my head, I raised my glass. “Drinks are on me tonight. We don’t stop until the bar runs dry!” The table erupted in cheers. We drank, laughed, and trashed the corporate world until the sun began to peek over the horizon. Exhausted, smelling like a brewery, I unlocked the front door of my house, expecting the cold emptiness of an empty home. Instead, I found Victoria sitting stiffly on the living room sofa. She had been waiting all night. As soon as the smell of liquor hit her, her face contorted in deep disgust. She backed away instantly. “I told you I despise the smell of alcohol! Why did you drink so much? Do my words mean absolutely nothing to you?” Hearing her shriek, I couldn’t help but laugh. Because she casually mentioned she hated the smell of alcohol, I had been completely sober for seven years. But what was the reality? Just last month, Oliver had sent me a video, intentionally trying to provoke me. He was completely wasted, slurring his words, looking up at the camera with puppy-dog eyes. “I’m sorry, Victoria. I know you hate drunks. I’ll never do it again.” And Victoria? She had cradled his flushed face in her hands, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness. “Silly boy. Drink as much as you want. I don’t hate alcohol, I just hate having to clean up after sloppy men.” Then, right on camera, Oliver gagged, and she literally caught his vomit with her bare hands. “But for you? I’d do anything.” The memory made my stomach churn. I slapped her hand away as she reached for my coat. “Didn’t you say you weren’t coming home?” Victoria glared at me, tossing a thick blanket at my chest. “I was worried about you being alone and depressed! And look at you, out partying without even giving me a call. And to think I went out of my way to pack up your favorite dishes from the restaurant.” In the past, I lived in constant fear for her safety. Even in the middle of a screaming match, if she didn’t text me back within an hour, I would be calling hospitals. This time, I hadn’t checked in on her for twenty-four hours. The silence probably spooked her enough to bring her home. I glanced at the takeout containers on the counter. Prime rib, lobster bisque. My favorites. I didn’t touch them. A slap to the face, followed by a piece of candy. It was her classic manipulation tactic. I wasn’t biting anymore. Victoria, completely oblivious to my deadened eyes, assumed her little peace offering had worked its magic like it always did. Her expression softened into a magnanimous mask. “Alright, arguing is exhausting. Let’s compromise.” “I’ll forgive you for framing Oliver and making him feel bullied today. But in exchange, you need to hand your current account over to him.” “His sales numbers have been dropping, and he needs a win. If you hadn’t been constantly suppressing his potential, he wouldn’t be struggling right now. Behave, do this favor for me, and I’ll lift the penalties on your team tomorrow morning.” Everything suddenly made sense. The early return. The favorite food. The blanket. It was all for Oliver. Her devotion to that boy was honestly staggering. To secure him a win, she was willing to put her pride aside and play house with me in the middle of a cold war. I let out a dry chuckle. “Sure.” The corner of Victoria’s lips curled up in a victorious smirk. She wasn’t surprised by my surrender. This play had run a hundred times before. “Next time, think before you act. If you hadn’t been so petty and liked his post, inciting your team to cyberbully him, we wouldn’t have had this fight in the first place.” “But whatever, it’s in the past. Go to the office and handle the handover paperwork.” I reached into my pocket, pulled out my heavy silver Director’s badge, and tossed it onto the coffee table with a clatter. “Why stop at just one account? Give him my title, too.” 3 Victoria froze, her smile slipping. “What is that supposed to mean?” “He’s so incredibly talented, right? He deserves the corner office.” Her face darkened, frustration practically radiating off her. “I am trying to have a civilized conversation with you, and you’re throwing another childish tantrum?” If I refused to give up the account, I was a jealous bully targeting her assistant. If I gave him my entire career, I was throwing a tantrum. There was no winning with this woman. And I was done playing the game. Seeing me standing there in silence, Victoria rubbed her temples, looking supremely inconvenienced. “Is this about that stupid house? Fine, I’ll buy you a real one tomorrow, okay?” “I swear to God, you are a grown man. Holding a grudge over something so trivial is pathetic.” Even now, she genuinely believed I was throwing away our marriage over a piece of real estate. “Don’t bother,” I said softly. “Save your money. Oliver is going to need it.” Victoria’s eyes flashed with absolute fury. She grabbed a throw pillow and hurled it at my face. “I have told you a thousand times! Oliver and I have a strictly professional mentor-mentee relationship. Why is your mind so filthy?” Everyone else in the building called him the intern or the assistant. She was the only one who purred his first name like a lover. It was insulting that she still thought I was blind. “You know exactly what you two are doing.” Her face flushed a mottled red, and she began to scream. “If that’s how you really feel, then give me my gaming account back! I stayed up for three nights straight building that digital villa, placing every brick. You don’t deserve to look at it!” She lunged at me, trying to snatch my phone from my pocket. I easily stepped aside, unlocked my screen, and showed her the automated text message. Your account deletion request has been processed successfully. “You think I care about a fake house in a video game?” “The account is permanently deleted. The game is off my phone. Are we clear?” Victoria stared at the screen, genuinely wounded. Her hands flew up, wildly slapping at my chest and shoulders. “You are a heartless bastard!” Screaming a few more curses, she grabbed her purse and stormed out, slamming the front door so hard the walls shook. In the old days, I would have chased her down the street. I could never let her be alone in the dark when she was upset. Tonight, I locked the deadbolt, took a hot shower, crashed into bed, and slept like the dead. When I woke up the next morning, my phone was blowing up again. This time, the punishment didn’t fall on my team. It landed squarely on me. An office-wide memo had been sent out. “Since a certain someone feels they are unfit to hold the position of Director, I am officially granting their request for demotion.” Anyone who had dared to speak up for me previously had already been heavily fined. Today, the entire company was dead silent. I didn’t care. I got dressed, met my team in the lobby, and walked straight into the HR department to hand over twenty resignation letters. The HR Director looked like she was about to have a heart attack. Her hands shook violently as she dialed Victoria. “Ms. Sinclair, the entire prime division… they’re resigning…” Through the speaker, the first voice we heard wasn’t Victoria’s. It was Oliver’s smooth, arrogant drawl. “Victoria, if it’s an emergency, you can go back to the office. I can watch the movie alone.” “Absolutely not,” Victoria replied, her voice sickeningly sweet. “You’ve been so stressed lately, and I promised you a break. I never break my promises to you.” Then, the phone shifted, and her voice turned into a venomous hiss. “Are you completely incompetent? You’re bothering me over some petty resignations? What exactly am I paying you for?” “But… Ms. Sinclair, it’s—” “But nothing! My signature stamp is in the top drawer of my desk. Stamp whatever they gave you and stop ruining my day!” The line went dead. The HR Director’s eyes filled with panicked tears. Having no authorization to stop us, she numbly processed our severances. By the time we packed our boxes, the office gossip mill had spun the story into a new shape: we hadn’t quit, Victoria had fired us. One of Oliver’s loyal lapdogs leaned against a cubicle, smirking as I carried my box past him. He raised his voice so the whole floor could hear. “Talent doesn’t mean jack if you can’t keep the CEO happy.” “Who cares who was here first? In the game of love, the one who isn’t loved is just an embarrassment!” They were laughing, loudly insulting me to my face. My guys dropped their boxes, rolling up their sleeves, ready to turn the office into a boxing ring. I held up a hand, stopping them. I looked right at the lapdog and offered him a bright, genuine smile. “You’re absolutely right. I sincerely hope your significant others all find their true soulmates.” Leaving them choking on their own malice, I walked out of the building with my team. I took a detour to City Hall. Sitting in the passenger seat of my developer’s car, I stared down at the crisp, legally binding divorce certificate in my hand. I started laughing. “I’m in a great mood today. Pick the most expensive restaurant in the city. It’s on me.” The guys cheered in the backseat, immediately arguing violently over whether we should get dry-aged steaks or a king crab banquet. I leaned against the window, quietly scrolling through my phone, letting their bickering wash over me. Suddenly, the car went dead silent. Someone tugged sharply on my sleeve. “Chief. Look over there.” I looked up, following his pointing finger out the window.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426724”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

A decade ago, a blazing inferno swallowed everything. Kevin’s adopted sister, Seraphina, was lost in the flames trying to save me. After that, no matter how I pleaded or cried, I never saw a flicker of love in his eyes. Until one day, I stumbled upon a thick stack of love letters hidden away—each word overflowing with profound affection. The truth was laid bare. I finally understood the reason for his coldness. Just as I prepared to seek him out and apologize, news reached me: he’d been kidnapped. Bullets rained down around the scene. Without a second thought, I threw myself in front of him. Crimson stained my vision. For the first time, his perpetually indifferent face fractured. I raised a blood-soaked hand, trembling as I wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m sorry, Kevin. I was your burden. I destroyed your happiness.” “Loving you was my mistake.” Before consciousness faded, I heard his tormented scream. An endless bitterness seeped away with my life. This time, we were finally even. If there’s a next life, I wish only for you to find your heart’s desire. 1 The acrid smoke stung my eyes, blurring my vision with tears. Seraphina’s frantic cries echoed in my ears. It was a nightmare, yet I was on the verge of joyful tears. I had returned to the day of the fire. “Seraphina! Where are you?” Kevin’s voice was laced with desperate urgency. In my past life, his concern for her would have driven me to insane jealousy. But now, it was a sound of immense relief. I waved frantically, then, with a surge of adrenaline, shoved Seraphina into his arms just before a massive beam crashed down. His eyes widened in stunned disbelief as I leaped from the third floor. Even if it meant death, even as every nerve ending shrieked in agony, I embraced it. I woke up in a sterile hospital room. Kevin stood over me, his expression etched with profound disappointment. “Ivy. You’ve gone too far this time.” “Just because I didn’t accept your confession, you set Seraphina’s room on fire?” “If I hadn’t gotten there in time, both of you would have…” “I’m sorry.” My immediate, unwavering apology cut him off mid-sentence. His lips parted, then closed, unable to utter another word of accusation. Everyone knew Ivy Kingston, the spoiled heiress, never bowed her head. Not even after her parents’ death, not with Kevin, the rising star of the business world, constantly watching over her. I met his dark eyes, my voice steady. “I started the fire.” “And about my confession before… I was being foolish. Just pretend it never happened.” The fire had nothing to do with me in my previous life, but he hadn’t believed a single word I said then either. His heart was already set. Any struggle would be futile. Kevin rubbed his temples, his expression a complex mix of confusion and something I couldn’t quite decipher. “As long as you understand your mistake.” “And the confession…” “Mr. Pendleton, Miss Seraphina is awake and asking for you.” He shot up from his chair, rushing out of the room without a backward glance. In my last life, I had confessed my love to him just before the fire, pressing the jade pendant my mother had left me into his hand. He had panicked, his face a mask of repulsion. “I only see you as a sister. This… this disgusting infatuation ends now.” He fled, and my obsession deepened. But now, all that stubborn devotion, all the love and hate from a lifetime ago, had dissipated. I calmly peeled an orange, listening to the chaos from the room next door. “This water is too hot! Get her a cooler one!” “Is she really not burned? Check her again!” “Don’t cry, big brother’s here.” My glass sat empty on the bedside table, fresh blood seeping through the bandages on my arm. I popped an orange segment into my mouth. It was sour, bitter, but I knew I had to get used to it. Because the unloved only invite scorn when they show their pain. Kevin returned while the nurse was changing my dressings. I didn’t fuss or demand his attention as I used to, just let her do her work in silence. He took two steps forward, reaching out as if to steady my arm and inspect my injuries, but I subtly pulled away. “Kevin, I’m fine now. Go be with Seraphina.” He sighed, a weary sound. “Ivy, you’re both my sisters.” “I care for you both equally. Please don’t make things difficult for her, okay?” He thought I was still jealous, still fighting for his attention like a child. But this time, I was serious. I opened my palm, my expression earnest. “Can you please give me back the pendant I gave you?” “It was my mother’s last memento. It’s meant for my husband.” 2 The pendant dropped into my palm, stirring echoes of the past. My parents were always busy, rarely home. I was a frail, ill-tempered girl in my youth, completely friendless. Then my father brought Kevin home. The lonely, stubborn girl I was finally had a patient, gentle older brother. If I refused my medicine, he would coax me patiently, rewarding me with a piece of candy afterwards. If I threw a tantrum, he would gently stroke my hair and reason with me. The darkest nights were filled with his comforting voice. The dread of school vanished with him by my side. He even chose to save me over Seraphina in the face of death. That innate kindness, that inherent goodness, had led me to believe he loved me. But after Seraphina died, his smile vanished. He was alive, but his soul and all his love had been consumed by that fire. And I, too, had been reduced to ashes alongside him. Kevin held the pendant’s chain, his expression slightly uncomfortable. “Why don’t I hold onto it for you? You don’t have a special someone right now anyway.” “I do.” I looked at him, uttering a lie I barely believed myself. “Kevin, I only see you as family. From now on, you’ll only ever be my family.” The chain slipped through his fingers, and his face inexplicably darkened. But I knew it was all a facade. He was only acting out of duty and gratitude. After a long silence, Kevin nodded. “Perhaps that’s for the best.” “There’s one more thing. I’d like Seraphina to move in with us to recover.” “Can you let her have the master bedroom? She’s afraid of the dark.” The image of him leaving a nightlight on for me, staying by my side through the night, flashed vividly in my mind. Yet, in front of Seraphina, he seemed to forget all of it. I lowered my gaze. “Of course. I’ll move to the house on the west side of town.” “Miss Kingston, are you saying you don’t welcome me?” Seraphina walked in, her pale face artfully arranged in a look of fragile vulnerability. Kevin soothingly patted her shoulder. “She’s always been a bit spoiled, don’t mind her.” “You’re still recovering. I don’t feel comfortable with you not being close to me.” My hand instinctively clutched the bedsheet, then weakly released it. Never mind. I’ll just move out the moment I’m discharged. That way, I won’t bother them. Seeing me remain silent, Seraphina started to pout. “Big brother, I want to eat the pumpkin pancakes from the bakery downstairs.” Kevin nodded, his expression doting. “Alright, I’ll go get them for you now.” He turned to me. “Do you want anything?” I shook my head. “No, thank you.” Kevin glanced back at me, but said nothing more as he left. Once he was gone, the pitiful expression on Seraphina’s face twisted into one of pure disgust. “Ivy, you have absolutely no shame.” “Becoming my sister-in-law? Dream on.” I looked at her, my gaze momentarily distant. “I won’t bother him anymore.” “Who would believe that?” Seraphina sneered, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Tell me, if something were to happen to me, do you think my brother would still let you cling to him?” Footsteps sounded outside the door. Seraphina immediately swept a vase off the table. Glass shards scattered across the floor. She then deliberately fell to her knees amongst them. Crimson blood mingled with the broken glass, making the scene appear even more horrifying. Kevin burst into the room, his face contorted with rage. He slapped me hard across the face. “Ivy, I actually thought you had changed.” “You know she has an old leg injury. Why would you force her to this?” My cheek stung, but my heart felt a chilling emptiness. The last time he struck me was in my past life, after Seraphina died in the fire. I should have realized it long ago. I was just too foolish. Seraphina’s tears flowed freely, making her look utterly heartbroken. “It’s my fault, brother. I said something wrong, and Miss Kingston punished me.” Kevin scooped her into his arms, then cast a cold, furious look at me. “Ivy, you truly lack a proper upbringing. It’s time someone taught you a lesson.” The dull ache in my heart suddenly sharpened, becoming an unbearable pain. I stared, pale-faced, at his retreating back as he carried Seraphina away. I lowered my gaze, noticing the bag Kevin had dropped in his haste. Among the pile of pumpkin pancakes were two red bean buns, my favorite. I picked one up and put it in my mouth. It was already cold. Mixed with my tears, it held no sweetness at all. 3 Kevin was true to his word. The moment I was discharged from the hospital, he ordered me to kneel in the garden. The uneven flagstones dug painfully into my knees. I suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu. When I was a child and my father punished me with kneeling, Kevin would always stand defiantly in front of me, taking the punishment himself. He’d say that a girl’s knees were more delicate, prone to lasting injury. Back then, I believed he genuinely cared for me. Now, I understood. He was simply thinking of Seraphina. Seraphina, with her old leg injury. A long shadow fell over me, blocking the sunlight. Kevin stood there, his gaze complex, but his voice sharp with command. “Do you understand what you did wrong?” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “I was jealous of your feelings for Seraphina. I couldn’t stand her.” “You…” A flicker of panic crossed Kevin’s face, and he seemed about to speak. The nearby bushes rustled faintly. Seraphina, her eyes red, emerged from behind them and threw her arms around him. “Big brother, is what she said true?” I watched the struggle of love and pain on Kevin’s face. He pressed his lips into a tight line, then after a long moment, gently pushed her away. “Seraphina, let’s not talk about this right now, okay?” His tone was so incredibly gentle, as if he were handling a priceless treasure. Yet, when he spoke to me, his voice was always sharp and cutting. This was the difference between love and indifference. “Mr. Pendleton, the police have sent over the hospital surveillance footage.” “This time… Miss Kingston is innocent.” A flash of alarm crossed Seraphina’s face and vanished just as quickly. Kevin instinctively moved to shield her, then lowered his head to watch the video. His palm trembled slightly. He belatedly reached out to touch my face, but I calmly moved away. He retracted his hand, clenching it into a fist, his voice laced with apology. “Ivy, I apologize on Seraphina’s behalf. She’s just too dependent on me.” “Please, considering she has no parents…” He trailed off, seemingly remembering that I, too, was an orphan. I understood, really. He promised to spend every birthday with me but broke it because Seraphina wanted his homemade porridge. He promised to attend my graduation but left me staring at an empty seat the entire night because he was at Seraphina’s ceremony. He was allergic to pollen, so I removed every flower from our garden, planting only trees. Yet, he personally cultivated acres of rose gardens for Seraphina. That’s how favoritism works. In my last life, I clung to it fiercely, but it only brought us endless torment. Lost in thought for a moment, I spoke, my voice hoarse. “She’s just insecure. Her feelings for you are more than just dependence.” “She’s in love with you.” They loved each other, but the pressures of society held them back. So, I would be the one to push him. Kevin’s gaze darted away, filled with evasion. “I only see her as a sister.” Hearing his weak denial, I offered a self-deprecating smile. Compared to his fury and disappointment when I confessed, his reaction now was so raw, so genuine. I was about to say more, but he cut me off. “Don’t ever say such things again. It’s unfair to Seraphina.” Seraphina’s tears flowed freely. “Fine, then don’t ever come looking for me again!” She turned and ran off without a backward glance. Kevin rushed to follow her, but halfway, he seemed to remember something. “Ivy, this was my fault. I’ll make it up to you.” “Just name it, and I’ll agree.” Watching his retreating back, I let out a weak, bitter smile. The thing I wanted most, I would never get. So, I’d just have to find a little sweetness for my future. I typed a few words into my phone. “I want red bean buns.” In the evening, Kevin drove me to “Liu’s Pumpkin Pancake Shop.” The moment we stepped out of the car, a rich, sweet aroma wafted towards us. The owner’s cheerful voice boomed. “Fresh pumpkin pancakes! Buy eight, get two red bean buns free!” My steps faltered. I didn’t even react when Kevin pressed a bag of pastries into my hand. He waved his hand in front of my face. “What’s wrong?” I snapped out of my daze, offering a self-deprecating smile. “Nothing.” Just feeling incredibly foolish. Knowing the ending, having made my choice. Yet, every time a shard of glass caught the light, I still imagined it was candy. Swallowing it, I’d bleed. Kevin tore open the bag and offered me one. This time, the red bean bun was piping hot, and it wasn’t a freebie. But in my mouth, it still didn’t taste like what I truly wanted. After a long silence, I spoke. “There’s something else. I want to study abroad in Europe.” Kevin’s hands, gripping the steering wheel, whitened at the knuckles. He instinctively refused. “No!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426723”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In the checkout line at the grocery store, the girl standing in front of me suddenly let out a sharp gasp. She violently sidestepped, ducking behind me like a frightened animal. Her voice was trembling uncontrollably. “You go first.” I gave her a weird look but stepped up and paid for my groceries. The second my transaction went through, a crowd of store employees swarmed me. Confetti popped. They were grinning from ear to ear, loudly announcing that I was the store’s one millionth customer. I had just won a ten million dollar cash prize. The sheer shock paralyzed my brain for a solid minute. When I finally snapped out of it, my first thought was to find that girl and thank her. But as I turned around, my feet glued themselves to the floor. She was leaning heavily against a display shelf, gasping for air. Her face was chalk-white, and her expression was completely consumed by the overwhelming relief of someone who had just barely escaped death. 1 There wasn’t a single trace of regret on that girl’s face. Not a drop of jealousy over missing out on ten million dollars. I knew that exact expression. I was intimately familiar with it. Years ago, I was riding my bicycle without paying attention and got dragged under the wheels of a massive semi-truck. The bike was crushed into twisted metal. The heavy tires screeched to a halt just inches away from my skull. When I crawled out from under that undercarriage and collapsed onto the asphalt, I looked exactly like the girl standing in front of me right now. It was the look of surviving a disaster. Gasping for oxygen. Total physical collapse. But that reaction only makes sense when you’ve just stared death in the face. Why was this girl reacting like that in the middle of a grocery store? I opened my mouth, wanting to ask her if she was okay. She didn’t give me the chance. She turned on her heel and walked rapidly toward the exit. Right as she reached the automatic sliding doors, she stopped and glanced back at me. Our eyes met. A violent shudder ripped through my chest. Because looking back at me, her eyes were completely filled with pity. 2 That look left a deep, crawling sense of unease in my gut. But the moment ten million dollars officially hit my bank account, all that paranoia completely evaporated. Sitting alone in my cramped rental apartment, I stared at the absurdly long string of zeros on my banking app. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. A house. A luxury car. Traveling the globe. A million different dreams were exploding in my head. My phone buzzed. It was a text message from an unknown number. “Do not open the door for your food delivery.” “Freak,” I muttered under my breath. I furrowed my brows, deleted the obvious prank text, and went back to daydreaming about my new wealth. By the time I finally snapped out of my fantasy, it was late into the night. My stomach growled. I opened up DoorDash. Instead of scrolling through my usual cheap fast food options, I went straight to the most expensive steakhouse in the city. Half an hour later, a heavy knock echoed through the apartment. “Delivery for Jessica.” I pushed myself off the couch, ready to grab my food. But for some inexplicable reason, that bizarre text message flashed in my mind. Those ten words felt like iron nails pinning my feet to the floorboards. Normally, I would have just ignored it. But I was sitting on ten million dollars now. Being a little paranoid couldn’t hurt. I raised my voice and called out toward the door. “Just leave it on the mat!” “Sure thing. Enjoy your meal.” I heard the heavy paper bag hit the floor. The delivery guy’s heavy footsteps slowly echoed down the hall, fading away. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and walked over to unlock the deadbolt. Right as my fingers brushed the cold metal handle, I noticed something terrifying. The light creeping through the crack under my door was still on. My apartment complex had recently installed motion-sensor lights in the hallways to save power. If someone was in the hall, the light stayed on. If it was empty, it turned off in thirty seconds. The delivery guy had walked away minutes ago. Why was the light still on? I held my breath. I pressed my ear flat against the cold wood of the door. A second later, a freezing chill shot straight up from my heels to the top of my skull. I heard a soft, rhythmic breathing sound coming from the other side of the wood. The delivery guy hadn’t left. He was standing right outside my door. 3 I bit down hard on my lip, pulled out my phone, and silently texted 911. Every second felt like an agonizing hour. Twenty minutes later, I finally looked through the peephole and saw two uniformed police officers. Only then did I unlock the door. The lead officer looked at me with deep skepticism. “Ma’am, we checked the entire hallway and the stairwells. There is no one here.” “Are you absolutely certain someone was trying to harm you?” I didn’t even bother putting on my shoes. I led the cops straight down to the building’s security office. But when I demanded to pull the security footage for my floor, the night guard just clicked his tongue. “Sorry, miss. The camera on your floor specifically shorted out this afternoon.” My heart completely dropped. This wasn’t a random creep. This was premeditated. Someone was actively hunting me. Since there was no footage, the cops just told me to lock my doors and call them if anything else happened. Back in my apartment, I buried myself under the thick duvet on my bed. If I hadn’t received that warning text, if I had just opened the door like a normal night, I didn’t even want to imagine what would have happened to me. Suddenly, a realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. The person behind that unknown number knew there was a killer outside my door. And since they warned me, they clearly weren’t the enemy. If I could just get a hold of them, maybe I could figure out who was trying to kill me. My fingers trembled as I dialed the unknown number. The phone rang. And rang. Every single dial tone made my heart stutter. I was terrified they would hang up. I was terrified they just wouldn’t answer. On the fifteenth second, the ringing clicked off. “Congratulations. You’re still alive.” The words completely paralyzed me. But what shocked me even more was the voice on the other end. I knew that voice. I had heard it today. It was the girl from the grocery store. The one who pushed me forward in line. I didn’t care about anything else anymore. I gripped the phone and unleashed every question burning in my mind. “Who the hell are you? How did you know someone was going to kill me?” There was a long, heavy silence on the line. Then, her voice came back, trembling violently. “Because that is exactly how I died in my last life.” 4 The neon lights of the 24-hour gaming lounge were blinding. The sound of keyboards clacking and teenagers yelling at video games was usually annoying, but tonight, it made me feel incredibly safe. I sat in a private booth, staring at the girl sitting across from me. My mind was completely reeling. Her name was Sophie. After the phone call, we decided to meet somewhere public and highly secure. The gaming lounge had dozens of cameras and was packed with people. The very first thing Sophie told me completely shattered my reality. She was a reincarnator. In her previous life, Sophie had kept her place in line. She was the one who won the ten million dollars. The night she won the money, she did exactly what I did. She ordered an outrageously expensive meal to celebrate. But the moment she opened her door to grab the food, a man shoved his way inside and plunged a hunting knife straight into her heart. The killer was dressed entirely in black, wearing a heavy mask and a pulled-down baseball cap. Before her eyes finally closed for good, she never got to see his face. When she woke up back in the grocery store, the sheer, paralyzing terror of her own murder made her step back. She willingly gave up the ten million dollars just to survive. But the guilt of passing the death sentence onto me ate at her. She memorized my phone number at the checkout counter and sent me that warning text. Listening to her story, a massive wave of gratitude washed over me. If she hadn’t been a good person, I would be bleeding out on my apartment floor right now. I reached across the table and grabbed her hands. “Thank you. You literally saved my life.” “I’ll split the money with you. Half of it is yours. It was supposed to be yours anyway.” Sophie’s face instantly contorted in pure terror. “I think the killer is explicitly hunting the winner of the money.” “He failed tonight. Next time, he is going to be far more prepared and far more lethal.” “And I can’t protect you anymore. I have no idea when or how he’s going to strike next.” I furrowed my brows, forcing my brain to work. “Think back to your last life. Did you notice absolutely anything about the killer before you died?” Sophie shook her head slowly. “The moment the knife went into my chest, my vision went blurry.” “The pain was so blinding I couldn’t even formulate a thought before I died.” “Black clothes, black hat, black mask. That’s all I saw.” She fell silent. Then, her eyes suddenly went wide. “Wait. I remember something. I smelled him!” She frantically rubbed her temples, trying to drag the memory out. “It was a really specific smell. I know I’ve smelled it before, I just can’t pinpoint what it was!” I told her not to panic and to just keep thinking. My own brain was spinning in overdrive. “Here is what I don’t understand. How did the killer track us down so fast?” Sophie pulled up her phone. She opened a news app. “I know what you’re thinking.” “The grocery store filmed the entire millionth customer celebration for a PR stunt.” “The video went completely viral on TikTok and Twitter. My face was plastered all over the internet. So I couldn’t tell if the killer was a total stranger who tracked me down, or someone I actually knew.” I stared at the viral video playing on her screen, then slowly shook my head. “But my situation is different.” “When I went to the store today, I didn’t have makeup on. I hadn’t washed my hair. I was wearing a massive hoodie, a baseball cap pulled down low, and a surgical mask because I’ve been getting over a cold.” “Unless someone knew me intimately, they would never be able to recognize me from this video.” “And based on the break-in, the person trying to kill me is the exact same person who killed you.” “That leaves exactly two possibilities.” “One. The killer was physically in the grocery store, followed us home, and memorized our addresses.” “Two. The killer is someone we both personally know.” Sophie bit her lip. She held up two fingers. “I think it has to be the second option.” “I am a deeply paranoid person. I watch way too much true crime. When I won that money, I was terrified of being followed.” “I took three different Ubers. I walked through two separate shopping malls. I took the most convoluted, insane route back to my apartment.” “The odds of someone tailing me through all of that without me noticing are virtually zero.” I nodded. We both pulled out our phones, opened our contacts, and started cross-referencing names. When I saw a very specific profile picture pop up in Sophie’s mutuals, my right eyelid twitched violently. It was my absolute best friend in the world. Fiona. Right at that exact second, a text from Fiona popped up on my screen. “Babe, I’m running a terrible fever. I feel awful.” “Can you come over and keep me company?” 5 The video of me winning ten million dollars was sitting at the number one spot on the trending page. If Fiona had seen it, she would have recognized me instantly, mask or no mask. Knowing her personality, the second she realized it was me, she would have called me screaming with excitement. But she didn’t. I stared at her text message. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard, but I couldn’t bring myself to reply. Still, it was just a theory. Fiona and I were as close as sisters. I refused to believe she would ever try to murder me. Taking a deep breath, Sophie and I kept scrolling. The second suspect was Gary. My landlord. He managed the building Sophie and I both lived in. He had come over to fix my radiator once when I was wearing that exact same oversized hoodie. The third suspect was Luke. The maintenance guy who delivered the heavy five-gallon water jugs to our apartments. Just like Gary, he could have recognized me in the video. Both of these men fit the profile perfectly. They knew what we looked like, they knew where we lived, and they had access to our buildings. But when I pictured their faces, my suspicion completely wavered. Gary was a sweet old man who was always smiling. When I was tight on cash and needed an extension on rent, he always agreed without a second thought. Luke was a shy, hardworking guy who blushed every time I said thank you. Last week he carried a heavy massage chair all the way up three flights of stairs for me, and he refused to take a single dollar for a tip. I just couldn’t picture either of them plunging a knife into someone’s chest. We had our suspect list, but how the hell were we supposed to prove anything? While I was racking my brain, Sophie suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream. She kicked her legs violently against the underside of the table, shoving her chair backward. Her head slammed hard against the wall of the booth, but she didn’t even seem to feel it. I jumped out of my seat in a panic. Sophie’s eyes were wide open, locked onto me with absolute terror. She lunged forward, gripping my hands so tightly her nails dug into my skin. “I just reincarnated again!” “In five minutes, the power in this lounge is going to cut out. The door to this booth is going to swing open, and the killer is going to chop your head clean off!” “It was so warm. The smell of iron. Blood was everywhere!” Sophie clutched her own throat. Sweat poured down her forehead. “It hurt so much!” “He walked over and slashed my throat. I couldn’t even scream.” She took a few ragged breaths, then leaned in close. Her eyes were practically glowing with manic adrenaline. “But before I died, I managed to hit the power button on my phone.” “The screen lit up. And in the glow, I finally saw the killer’s face!” 6 I swallowed hard. My voice was a terrified whisper. “Who was it?” Sophie stared right into my eyes and slowly spoke the name. “Fiona.” My brain completely flatlined. My knees went weak, and I had to grab the edge of the table just to stay standing. For a split second, I desperately wanted to accuse Sophie of lying to me. But the brutal reality was that Sophie had absolutely zero motive to lie. Then, a chilling memory hit me. Because we were two women living alone in a big city, Fiona and I had installed a location-tracking app on our phones for safety. If she could see exactly where I was, why the hell did she just text me asking where I was? My hands were shaking so violently I almost dropped my phone. I opened the location app I hadn’t checked in months. The next second, my heart completely stopped. On the digital map, the red dot representing Fiona’s phone was almost perfectly overlapping with my green dot. Fiona was right outside the lounge. I snapped my head up, locking eyes with Sophie. We grabbed our bags and sprinted out of the building. Bursting through the front doors, we threw ourselves into the back of a taxi idling on the curb. “The Grand Plaza Hotel. Step on it!” The Grand Plaza was a luxury five-star hotel with incredibly strict security. It was the safest place I could think of right now. The locks clicked into place. The engine purred. Watching the neon sign of the gaming lounge shrink in the rearview mirror, I closed my eyes and let out a massive, shaky exhale. The next second, the engine roared. The car violently swerved off the main road and down a pitch-black alleyway. The driver looked in the rearview mirror. He smiled, exposing a row of yellowing teeth. “Where are you rushing off to so late at night, Jessica?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426722”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The city streets blurred past the passenger window. My brain was still stuck on an endless loop, replaying the word “Positive” printed on the clinic’s lab results. My wife suddenly broke the silence. Her voice was cold enough to freeze water. “There is something you need to know.” The smile died on my face. I watched her pull a folded document from her designer bag and toss it onto my lap. It was a DNA report. Under the section labeled “Father”, a name was stamped in bold ink. Garrison. My own brother-in-law. “That night you were burning up with a fever and passed out in the back seat.” She traced the leather of the steering wheel with one manicured fingernail. “He and I were right here in the front.” All the blood rushed straight to my head. I opened my mouth, but my throat felt like it had been filled with wet concrete. No sound came out. Valerie rested a hand over her slightly swollen stomach. Her eyes were completely dead. “If you can’t handle it, I’ll get rid of it. But don’t ever expect me to carry a child for you again.” She tossed the choice into my lap like we were discussing what to have for dinner. “To keep it or not. You call the shots.” The silence inside the SUV was suffocating. After a long time, I forced my mouth open. “Why? Why would you do this to me?” Black spots danced in my vision. It felt like invisible hands were wrapped around my throat, choking the air out of my lungs. Seeing the tears spilling down my face, Valerie pulled the car over. She reached out and wiped my cheek. “My older sister died without leaving a single kid behind. Garrison has no one left in this world to lean on. Giving him a child was the only thing I could do.” “If I terminate this pregnancy, I’m never going through the process again.” “If we keep it, I’ll make sure the kid calls you dad.” “It is entirely up to you.” Every word out of her mouth backed me further into a corner. I didn’t even have the strength to clench my fists. Just a few hours ago, she was wrapped in my arms, excitedly talking about our future family of three. As the director of the city’s top medical research foundation, she had been crying tears of joy. “We’re finally having a baby. I’m putting all my executive bonuses into a trust fund. I’m going to personally make sure he gets into an Ivy League school.” But a few hours later, she casually informed me the baby wasn’t mine. I raised a trembling fist in blind rage, but my hand dropped back down. “Valerie, you are completely out of your mind.” She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even raise her voice. “Let’s go home. I’ll make dinner.” Her tone was light. She reached over and gently clicked my seatbelt into place, acting like the conversation we just had never happened. I recoiled from her touch like I had been burned. Her face began to blur through my tears. The last time she had a miscarriage, I blamed myself entirely. The guilt dragged me into a severe, crippling depression. The local therapists couldn’t figure out how to help me, so Valerie used all her corporate connections to bring in a specialist from overseas. For countless days and nights, she dealt with my emotional breakdowns, bringing all her lab paperwork home just to keep an eye on me. Thinking back to how deeply we used to love each other, I couldn’t hold back my desperate question. “But you promised me. You promised you would try for another baby with me. Did none of that mean anything?” My intense reaction completely drained whatever patience she had left. “I am not holding a gun to your head and forcing you to raise this kid.” “You are forcing me.” My voice came out cracked and ruined. Valerie froze. Right at that moment, a motorcycle courier pulled up alongside our SUV and knocked on the glass. “Director. Garrison hurt his leg badly at the work site. You need to drive him to the emergency room right now.” All the color drained from Valerie’s face. She shoved me hard, pushing me toward the passenger door. “Walk home. You clearly need to cool off anyway.” She didn’t even leave me a parting glance. She hit the gas, and the heavy SUV roared down the street, leaving me behind. I hit the pavement hard. I struggled in the dirt for a long time before I could finally drag myself to my feet. I don’t know how long it took, but I stumbled my way back to our apartment. I walked straight to the expensive landline phone we rarely used. I picked up the receiver and dialed a number I had memorized long ago. “Hello. This is Rowan. I want to formally accept the volunteer teaching position in Alaska.” “Rowan. Thank God. That’s fantastic news.” After a brief moment of excitement, the voice on the other end hesitated. “But you need to be absolutely sure. Joining this project means relocating to the deep frontier. You’ll be stationed there permanently. It will be nearly impossible to visit your family. What about your wife…” I didn’t let him finish. “My mind is made up.” “Alright then. We’ll send a transport truck to pick you up in three days.” I hung up the phone and started packing my bags. We had been married for eight years. Every piece of furniture, every picture frame in this house was something we picked out together. She wanted to give all her corporate bonuses to Garrison. I hadn’t argued. I worked grueling freelance jobs just to pay our daily bills. Now, the home I had poured my entire soul into was popping like a cheap soap bubble. The front door clicked open. Valerie walked in. She saw me throwing clothes into a duffel bag and rolled her eyes, assuming I was throwing a tantrum. “You play these childish games every single time. If you don’t want the baby, just say it.” “Garrison was bleeding from a severe injury, and he still begged me to get an abortion so I wouldn’t upset you.” “He’s been through enough on his own. Can’t you learn to be a little less selfish?” A hollow, miserable laugh ripped out of my throat. “You think these past few years have been easy for me?” “That is enough.” Her patience was completely gone. “He lost his wife. He has nothing. No matter how much you complain, you still have me. You’ve been living a comfortable, easy life all these years just coasting on my status as a director.” I froze. A wave of pure absurdity washed over me. Ever since Valerie’s sister died in the line of duty, Valerie took it upon herself to act as Garrison’s surrogate wife. She catered to his every single demand. When a piece of falling debris cracked my skull open, she wasn’t there. When I was trapped in the mountains for three days during a brutal snowstorm on a charity run, she wasn’t there. Even on the day my father died of cancer, she wasn’t there. But every time Garrison had a minor cold or a scraped knee, she dropped everything and rushed to his side. And after all that, she had the nerve to say I was coasting on an easy life. My eyes burned. I laughed, mocking my own stupidity. “You’re a highly respected director, and you’re sleeping with your dead sister’s husband. Where is all that morality and dignity you love to preach about?” Right on cue, Garrison limped into the room. “Rowan, how could you say something like that? I’ve always treated you like my own little brother.” The man’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “Blame me. It’s my fault. I was just too selfish. I wanted to leave a piece of my family behind. If you hate the idea of this baby so much, I’ll tell Valerie to go to the clinic right now.” He put on a pathetic display, turning around and limping toward the door, dramatically shouting about finding a doctor. Valerie clicked her tongue in annoyance and shoved me away in pure disgust. She turned to chase after him. The push sent me stumbling back. My head, still fragile from the old debris injury, slammed violently into the sharp corner of the coffee table. I grabbed her sleeve in agonizing pain. “Valerie. My head. It hurts so bad.” She violently yanked her arm out of my grip. “Sit here and think about what you’ve done. If his leg gets worse because of this, I’m holding you responsible.” The door slammed shut behind her, rattling the frames on the wall. It was only after she left that I felt the warm, thick liquid sliding down the back of my neck. Dizziness washed over me in sickening waves. I practically crawled across the floor to the landline and dialed the local emergency clinic. “I’m bleeding. My head. Please come help me.” I didn’t expect the voice on the other end of the line to be Valerie’s. She growled at me in pure irritation. “You are sitting safely at home. What danger could you possibly be in? Do not tie up the emergency medical lines for your petty tantrums ever again. Don’t call this number.” When I finally opened my eyes again, my head was wrapped in thick, tight gauze. A young nurse stood by the bed. She quietly told me that if they had found me a few minutes later, I would have bled to death. I reached up and touched the bandages. The pain in my chest was worse than the wound. Valerie. You almost murdered me with your own hands. Before I could even wipe the tears from my eyes, a neighbor from our apartment complex rushed into the room, looking terrified. “Rowan. The subsidized apartment the foundation promised your mother. Valerie just revoked the lease.” “You need to come quick. Your mom collapsed. It’s her heart.” It felt like lightning struck my spine. I didn’t even care about my head. I ripped the IV out and stumbled out of the clinic, practically dragging myself to the apartment block. When I arrived, Valerie was standing by the door, ordering a crew of movers to throw my mother’s belongings out onto the street. My mother had passed out from the shock, her frail body crumpled on the concrete. “What the hell are you doing?” I ran over like a madman and pulled my mother into my arms, glaring up at Valerie with pure hatred. There wasn’t a single shred of guilt in her eyes. Only deep, biting disgust. “Your mother has been walking around the complex spreading rumors that my baby belongs to Garrison. She is ruining our reputation.” I fired back with a bitter sneer. “Is it not the truth?” “You.” Valerie choked on her words. “My sister died a hero. Garrison is the widower of a hero. The foundation’s housing benefits absolutely must prioritize him.” “As for your mother, she can go back to her old slum. It makes no difference.” My mother seemed to hear those brutal words. She weakly twitched in my arms. When we got married, Valerie had knelt down in front of my mother, promising to treat her like her own flesh and blood. She personally promised to move my mother out of her rotting, leaky shack and put her in a safe, warm apartment. I never expected her promises to rot this quickly. Fighting through the blinding pain in my skull, I staggered to my feet and stood in front of her. “If anything happens to my mother, we are getting a divorce.” My words visibly knocked the wind out of her. She looked at my bloodstained clothes, then down at my unconscious mother. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t find her voice. Garrison picked the perfect moment to break the silence. He let out a pathetic, shaky sob. “Director. Just give the apartment to the old woman. I can sleep in an alley for all I care. You two can’t destroy your marriage over a guy like me.” His little speech instantly painted me as the hysterical villain. Valerie looked at me. Her eyes were full of absolute disappointment. “How can you throw the word divorce around so casually? You’re just saying that to torture him.” “Get over here and apologize to him right now.” I couldn’t hear her screaming anymore. I could only focus on my mother’s face, which was turning a terrifying shade of gray. I looked at the foundation’s private SUV parked nearby. It was my only hope. “I have nothing to apologize for. Valerie, order your driver to take my mom to the hospital. Now.” The second the words left my mouth, Garrison suddenly grabbed his thigh and let out a loud groan of agony. He twisted his face into a mask of pure suffering. “I was wrong. I’m sorry, Rowan. A worthless bachelor like me doesn’t deserve a child anyway.” Seeing his twisted, pained expression, Valerie didn’t hesitate. She grabbed his arm and practically carried him into the SUV. I chased after them, violently grabbing the car door handle, but she slapped my hand away with brutal force. My fresh stitches tore open. A wave of black dizziness hit me. The neighbors, completely confused by the drama, backed away from me like I carried a plague. Not a single person was willing to give us a ride. I had to drag my mother out to the main road, begging passing cars until a stranger finally pulled over. I carried her through the hospital doors, sprinting down the hallway, only to be blocked outside the intensive care wing. “I’m sorry, sir. We have absolutely zero beds left. We can’t admit her.” “Why not?” “Director Valerie has a VIP suite permanently reserved. This is her mother-in-law. Why can’t she use it?” I lost control of my facial expressions entirely. The nurse took a step back, her voice shaking. “The Director just checked her brother-in-law into that exact room ten minutes ago. The slot is completely occupied.” I turned my head stiffly and looked through the glass of the VIP suite. Garrison was lounging on the premium hospital bed, casually eating slices of fresh apple. Valerie was hovering nervously by his side, handing him a glass of water, acting exactly like a devoted wife. I shoved the door open, shattering their perfect domestic scene. “Valerie. My mom…” “Why are you stalking us?” Valerie cut me off, her eyes blazing with fury. “His leg flared up because of the vile things you said. If we were a second later, he could have lost the leg entirely.” Right at that moment, Garrison speared a piece of apple with a toothpick and chewed it slowly, looking completely relaxed. He didn’t look like a man fighting for his life. Valerie shoved me out of the suite and locked the door from the inside. My entire body was violently shaking. I had to find a way to transfer my mother to a private hospital. But when I checked my pockets, I realized I couldn’t even afford a taxi ride across town. I spotted Valerie’s assistant in the hallway. I grabbed her arm like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline. “Valerie’s executive bonus for this month. Please, let me get an advance on it. I swear on my life I will pay her back.” The assistant wouldn’t meet my eyes. She stammered out a reply. “The Director spent the entire bonus on imported supplements for Garrison. There’s nothing left in the account.” My grip went totally slack. My eyes were bloodshot and wild. I watched my mother struggling for every single breath. Every second that ticked by felt like a knife dragging across my heart. In a sheer panic, my hand brushed against the heavy jade pendant around my neck. It was the wedding gift Valerie brought back from an expedition years ago. Even when I was starving and living off stale bread, I never thought about pawning it. Now, I didn’t care. I ripped the necklace off and shoved it into the hands of the attending doctor. “This is a genuine antique. It’s incredibly valuable. Please, use this as collateral. Do something.” The doctor, who clearly knew a bit about jewelry, glanced at it and pushed it back into my chest. “Somebody ripped you off, buddy. This is a cheap piece of glass from a tourist trap. It’s basically a toy.” In a split second, the blood froze in my veins. The assistant couldn’t bear to watch anymore. She quietly explained the truth. “The Director did bring back a priceless jade piece from that trip. But she gave it to Garrison as soon as she landed. Yours… she bought yours at a gift shop down the street.” The fake jade slipped through my fingers and smashed against the tile floor, shattering into two pathetic pieces. Every ounce of strength drained from my body. Right there, sitting in the freezing, sterile hospital stairwell, my mother took her last breath. I bit down on my own lip so hard it bled. The sound of my own shattered sobbing echoed through the concrete walls. That night, after making the final arrangements for my mother’s body, I picked up my duffel bag and climbed into the transport truck heading for Alaska. At the exact same time, Valerie finished tucking Garrison into bed. She stepped out of the VIP suite and handed a stack of cash to her assistant. “Take this to my husband. Buy his mother some decent vitamins on the way.” “Tell him I’ll personally take him to get his head checked at the clinic tomorrow.” The assistant didn’t take the money. She kept her hands by her sides and spoke in a trembling whisper. “His mother passed away tonight.” “What?” Valerie’s heart plummeted into her stomach. She sprinted down the hallway and bolted out of the hospital doors. As she recklessly sped her SUV back toward our apartment, a dark green transport truck passed her going the opposite direction. She didn’t even glance at it. She just wanted to get home. She had no idea I was already on my way to the frozen frontier, and I was never coming back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426721”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I remarried Alexander, but this time, I wasn’t the paranoid wreck I used to be. I stopped checking his collars or his phone, and I no longer cared if there were other women. Our relationship felt like it did at the beginning, as if the years of bitterness had been a bad dream. The truth is, I’d been battling ghosts since our first year. The first time, I found lace panties in his car. I stormed into his office, forgetting the stove was on—our first house burned down. The second time, my PI sent photos of him with another woman. The elevator I was in stalled, trapping me for hours. The third time, I crashed a wedding to catch him, and a chandelier fell, leaving me bloodied. So this time, even when Alexander didn’t come home all night, I didn’t ask. Until he crashed his car. They pulled him from the wreck with a naked woman. Numbly, I packed his bag, my hands moving over things that smelled like someone else. In the hospital, Alexander jumped up, shielding the woman. “You’ve finally got what you wanted, Sophia? Take it out on me—leave her alone!” A tired smile spread across my face. I didn’t need to see her face. I recognized the bracelet on her wrist—the one I gave my best friend, Ava, last month. Years of tension snapped, replaced by hollow relief. “Alexander,” I said, my voice steady. “Let’s get a divorce.” … He let out a short, incredulous laugh, as if I’d just told the funniest joke in the world. “A divorce? So you can come crawling back to me in a few months, half-dead and begging to get back together?” I shook my head, the smile never leaving my lips. “There won’t be a next time.” The familiar words, but a different answer. It was a distorted echo of a conversation that had already destroyed me once. It had been just a year into our first marriage when the cracks started to show. I found clues of his infidelity everywhere, hidden in the corners of our life. Little things, like a pair of lacy underwear that wasn’t mine. Big things, like an invitation to a wedding he was attending that I knew nothing about. But it was as if fate itself was playing a cruel joke on me. No matter how much I acted like a madwoman, scrutinizing every woman who got close to him, I could never figure out who she was. Instead, every time I got close to the truth, a freak accident would throw me off course, leaving me broken and bleeding. The last time, with the chandelier, it wasn’t just my body that was shattered. The impact tore through my abdomen. When I woke up in the hospital, there was a hollow ache deep inside me. Our baby, the one who never had a chance to see the world, was gone. Back then, I had been just like this. Numb. I’d asked Alexander for a divorce then, too. But he had fallen to his knees, begging, swearing he was only at that wedding for business. His brand-new tuxedo and the unfamiliar wedding band on his finger told a different story. In a daze, I’d snatched a fruit knife from the bedside table. I held it to my own throat, my hands shaking, and told him to let me go. He must have loved me then, because in the end, terrified, he agreed. I thought leaving him would be the cure. But I withered. The depression was a physical weight, pressing down on me day after day until I could barely breathe. My own parents were afraid to get too close, scared of saying the wrong thing. The only one who broke through was Ava. My Ava, who I’d grown up with, who felt more like a sister than a friend. She was the one who threw herself in front of me, her own hands grabbing the blade I was holding to my wrist. We clung to each other, our blood mixing, our tears indistinguishable. But I knew she couldn’t save me. She had her own life, a boyfriend she was crazy about. I couldn’t drag her down into my darkness. Maybe it’s better this way. The thought pinned me to the spot as the truck barreled towards me. I just stood there, waiting. Then, out of nowhere, Alexander was there, shoving me out of the way, his body taking the brunt of the impact. In that split second, I realized two things: I didn’t want to die. And God help me, I still loved him. He lay in a pool of his own blood, his eyes losing focus, but his arms were wrapped around me so tightly it felt like he would never let go, not even in death. While he was fighting for his life in the ICU, I knelt by his bed and prayed. Just let him live. I won’t ask for anything else. I don’t care about anything else. I thought that if I just stopped looking, stopped questioning, our fractured love and our broken marriage could heal. We could go back to the way we were. But then the police officer handed me a bag of his personal effects from the crash. Inside, nestled among the contents of his wallet, was a box of condoms and a pair of familiar lacy panties. That fragile hope shattered into a million pieces. My stunned silence must have irritated Alexander. He shielded the woman on the bed even more fiercely. “What are you planning now, Sophia? Whatever happened, it’s not her fault—” As he spoke, their intertwined hands were like a dagger twisting in my gut. It was the final straw. The carefully constructed wall of my composure crumbled. Tears streamed down my face as I heard my own hoarse voice. “Ava,” I whispered. “You once told me you wished me a lifetime of happiness. Now… I’m giving that wish back to you.” I paused, their frozen, shocked figures blurring through my tears. “I’m out. I’ll let you two be happy together.” Before the words had even fully left my mouth, a sharp slap cracked across my face. My head snapped to the side, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. Alexander’s voice trembled with a rage I knew all too well. “What the hell are you talking about, Sophia? What does Ava have to do with any of this?” Ava… The way he said her name. So familiar. So intimate. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I should have known. I should have seen it all along, but I had been so determined to lie to myself. The two of them, who used to bicker like cats and dogs, had somehow grown closer. “If you ever hurt Sophia, I swear I’ll never forgive you!” she used to say. “I’ll love her for the rest of my life. I’ll give her a home. You won’t be the one to take her from me!” he’d shoot back. Somehow, over time, that bickering had turned into a secret language, an unspoken understanding. I remembered a trip we all took. He’d ordered a table full of her favorite spicy dishes, completely forgetting they set my mouth on fire. I remembered spending weeks picking out the perfect birthday gift for her. The day after I gave her the bracelet, I saw her wrapping a scarf she’d knitted herself around Alexander’s neck. When I’d questioned them, they’d both laughed it off. “This is just what people who care about you do—they learn to get along!” What a pathetic lie. And like a fool, I believed it. Now, I pressed a hand to my throbbing cheek, fighting back a fresh wave of tears as I met Alexander’s dark, unreadable eyes. “Whether it’s true or not, it doesn’t matter anymore. We should have ended this a long time ago.” As if my words were a physical blow, the woman on the bed finally broke. Ava stumbled out from under the sheets, her face a mess of tear-streaked mascara. “Sophia, I… I don’t know what came over me,” she sobbed, scrambling off the bed and grabbing at my clothes. “I was wrong, I’m so sorry! Please, forgive me! You can hit me, scream at me, anything…” Her frantic fingers clutched at my shirt, and her hand brushed against the faint, raised line on my abdomen—the scar from the miscarriage. A jolt of revulsion shot through me. I instinctively pushed her away. The next thing I knew, a powerful force kicked me from behind. I stumbled backward, crashing into an IV stand. One of its cold metal hooks dug deep into my back. A searing pain ripped through me, and I felt a warm wetness spreading through the fabric of my white blouse. A familiar, terrifying cramp seized my belly. Alexander’s lips were a thin, hard line, but he didn’t hesitate to scoop a crying Ava into his arms. The cramping intensified, a sickening echo of the past. The fear of losing another child, a fear I thought I had buried, clawed its way up my throat. My hands trembling, I fumbled in my purse and pulled out the folded-up pregnancy report. I held it out to him. “I’m pregnant,” I gasped, the pain making it hard to breathe. “Call a doctor… please…” For a split second, he took a step toward me. But then Ava whimpered in his arms, a small, fragile sound. His expression hardened, his eyes filling with a cold annoyance. “Stop with the drama, Sophia,” he spat. “After the miscarriage, the doctors said it would be nearly impossible for you to get pregnant again!” He looked down at me, his face a mask of contempt. “Maybe this will teach you a lesson. Don’t you ever lay a hand on Ava again.” He swatted my hand away. The white paper fluttered to the floor, landing in a growing pool of my own blood. My heart didn’t just break. It plummeted into a black, bottomless abyss. Alexander turned his back on me, carried Ava out of the room, and slammed the door shut. I heard the distinct click of the lock. He left me there, bleeding on the cold tile. He ignored my last, desperate plea for help. And in the moment I felt the last flicker of life inside me go out, I think a part of my own soul died with it. When I woke up again, the doctor was looking at me with an expression of pity and regret. “Ms. Albright,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry. We couldn’t save the baby.” A void opened up inside me. I didn’t realize I was crying until the tears blurred my vision. My hands shook as I dialed my father’s number. “Dad,” I choked out. “It’s Alex and Ava. They’re together. I want a divorce.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded like it had aged twenty years in a single second. “Okay, honey. Don’t you worry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll find someone else to help with your mother’s care. Don’t you dare sacrifice yourself for this family.” His gentleness, his unwavering support, was the final undoing. I collapsed into the phone, sobbing uncontrollably. My father came and took me from the hospital. We buried the ashes, the tiny, fragmented remains of my child. I ignored the flood of texts from Alexander and Ava, both filled with pathetic excuses and explanations. The betrayals had hollowed me out. I was exhausted, body and soul. All I wanted was for it to be over. I walked into Alexander’s office building, the divorce papers clutched in my hand, ready to end it all. But as I reached for the door to his office, the voices from inside froze me to the spot. Through the crack in the door, I saw Ava, her eyes swimming with tears. “Yes, I love you! But watching you send people to hurt Sophia, time and time again, just to protect me… you even caused her miscarriage! I can’t do this anymore! It was wrong, and we have to stop!” Her words hit me like a physical blow. My ears started to ring. Send people to hurt Sophia? My mind went blank. Ava’s voice cracked as she continued, tears streaming down her face. “My parents abandoned me, but Sophia took me in. She shared everything she had with me. How can I stand by and watch her suffer like this?” For a fleeting, insane moment, I prayed Alexander would deny it. But the truth, the one I had refused to see, came from his own lips. He cornered Ava against the wall, his voice a low, frustrated growl. “You can’t stand to see her suffer? Do you think I can stand to see you suffer? That time I had someone… mess with her… all I could think about was the scar you got on your hand trying to pull her away from that falling light fixture!” His words dragged me back into the nightmare of my past. While I was lying in a hospital bed, physically and emotionally shattered after losing our first child, they were living a lie. Ava, supposedly sick with a high fever from the shock. Alexander, supposedly forced to stay at that wedding for appearances. In reality, they had put on the perfectly tailored wedding clothes they’d prepared and celebrated their union, surrounded by the blessings of oblivious guests. In that instant, every sleepless night I’d spent blaming myself, telling myself I was too sensitive, too paranoid… it all became a sick, twisted joke. Alexander’s voice inside the office softened, filled with a twisted sort of passion, each word a new cut on my heart. “What do you want me to do? I love you, Ava, I love you too! If you’re afraid she’ll find out, we just have to be more careful. We’ll stop her before she can. We’ve been doing it for years, haven’t we?” Ava’s resolve crumbled. With a sob, she threw herself into his arms. They held each other in a desperate, frantic embrace, as if trying to merge into one being. My face was a mask of ice. I pushed the door open. They sprang apart, guilt and panic flashing across their faces. “Sophia!” Ava stammered, her face white as a sheet. “I… I just tripped. Alex was just helping me up. Please, don’t be angry. I was just about to quit my job.” She looked at me with those wide, pleading eyes, the same eyes that had once looked at me with so much love and trust. I remembered bringing her to Alexander’s company, telling him to look after her, making her his personal assistant so she wouldn’t be alone. She had hugged me so tightly that day, her eyes shining. “Sophia! We’re going to be best friends forever! Don’t worry, I’ll keep a close eye on your husband for you!” I shifted my gaze to Alexander. I could see the rigid control in his jaw, the forced calm in his eyes. “What happened last time… I was impulsive,” he said, his voice low and placating. “You can punish me however you want. And I’ve already arranged for a better medical team for your mother.” He was trying to smooth it all over, as if these monumental betrayals were just minor bumps in the road. “Okay? I promise, there won’t be any other women. We can go back to how things were. Please?” I couldn’t understand it. How could they stand there and lie to my face, so calmly, after everything they’d done? To protect their sordid affair, they had systematically destroyed my life. The home filled with our memories, reduced to ash. Me, trapped in an elevator, gasping for air. Me, bleeding out on a ballroom floor, my baby gone… They had called it all a series of unfortunate accidents. And now, they expected me to believe their lies again, to let them continue their sick game while I played the fool. A wave of nausea washed over me as Alexander reached out to touch my face. The revulsion was so strong, so visceral, I couldn’t stop myself. I flinched back, slapping his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” His face darkened, the mask of contrition falling away to reveal pure, cold anger. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m dirty?” I took another step back, my stomach churning. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “What do you think? You arranged ‘accidents’ to hurt me, to stop me from finding out about you and Ava. And you expect me to just play dumb? Alexander, Ava… you both make me sick.” The words hung in the air. The office plunged into a dead silence. Ava’s face was chalk-white. She started to sob, moving as if to fall to her knees and beg. As she stumbled, she knocked over a picture frame on the desk—an ultrasound photo of our first child. Glass shattered across the floor. Instinctively, Alexander pulled Ava into his arms, shielding her from the flying shards. I lunged for the frame, but it was too late. I fell to my knees, my hands landing in the pile of broken glass. But I didn’t care about the pain. My eyes were fixed on the photo. There, marring the image of our unborn child, was the faint, greasy imprint of a hand. An intimate touch that wasn’t mine. My sanity finally, irrevocably, shattered. I clutched the broken frame to my chest, heedless of the glass cutting into my skin. A raw, guttural sob tore from my throat as I glared at them. “Are you that depraved? I won’t let you get away with this! I’ll tell everyone what you are! I’ll make sure the whole world knows how disgusting you both are!” The flicker of guilt in Alexander’s eyes vanished, replaced by pure fury. “You wouldn’t dare.” But the weight of it all, the betrayals, the loss, the lies—it was too much. I was choking on my own rage. “Why wouldn’t I? I’ll do it right now—” I pulled out my phone, opening the camera and pointing it at them, huddled together in their guilt. But before I could press the button, he lunged forward and knocked the phone from my hand. The next second, he was on his own phone, his voice cold and hard as steel. “Leak every intimate photo we have of Sophia. I want the whole world to see what kind of slut she is.” I stared at him, my mind reeling. It was like seeing the man I had shared my bed with for the first time. Ava looked on, a flicker of horror in her eyes, but she said nothing. She just lowered her head, a silent accomplice. A moment later, my phone, lying on the floor, began to buzz uncontrollably. It was my father. I scrambled to pick it up, my hands bleeding. “I… I must be cursed,” he wailed, his voice cracking with despair. “I’ve been a professor for decades, and this is what I raised? A disgrace! I’d rather be dead!” Then, a sudden, sickening thud on the other end of the line. The phone went silent, replaced by a murmur of panicked voices. “Professor Albright, the one everyone respects, his own daughter’s scandal gave him a heart attack!” “What a tragedy for the family…” “Someone give him space! Oh god, I think he’s…” A notification popped up on my phone’s shattered screen. It was from my mother’s hospital. [We regret to inform you that your mother suffered a stress-induced acute episode. Resuscitation was unsuccessful.] All those nights. All those moments of intimacy with Alexander. They had just become the blades that delivered the final, fatal wounds. The screen lit up with a torrent of hateful messages from strangers, but I couldn’t see them. I was hollowed out, a ghost in my own body, as I sank to the floor. The last two people who mattered in my world were gone. I cried until I had no tears left, my throat raw. I looked up and met Alexander’s cold, triumphant gaze. “What’s wrong?” he sneered. “Still want to cause a scene? I can make it all go away. Just promise you’ll behave.” A single, hot tear fell onto the back of my hand. “It’s too late, Alexander,” I whispered. I pushed myself to my feet, my body trembling with a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. He frowned, still keeping Ava tucked securely behind him. “It’s just a few online comments. A little lesson to teach you not to cross me. Why are you being so dramatic?” I turned my back on him and looked at the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city. I didn’t even spare him a final glance. My voice was a bare whisper. “Mom, Dad… my baby… I’m coming to be with you.” The next second, I threw the broken picture frame with all my might. It crashed against the window, spiderwebbing the thick glass. And as it shattered, I ignored the desperate, horrified screams behind me. I took one last step forward and plunged into the open air.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426720”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I was eight months pregnant when the car crash happened. The accident didn’t just rob me of my child; it was caused by a luxury car whose driver showed not a shred of remorse. Instead, she twisted the narrative, claiming I’d thrown myself in front of her vehicle to extort money. I was in the middle of a D&C procedure when she stormed in, dragged me off the operating table, and had me taken directly to a courtroom. There, she stood in the plaintiff’s box, her words dripping with venom. “If you can’t afford a baby, you shouldn’t be having one. So young and already a grifter.” She preened, adding, “Do you have any idea what this car is worth? Millions! My husband is a top-tier lawyer with a nine-figure net worth. You’ll be bankrupt by the time we’re done with you!” I stood in the defendant’s box, the physical agony and public humiliation churning inside me. Black spots danced in my vision, and I felt myself about to collapse. Just then, the courtroom doors swung open. The arrogant woman instantly transformed, melting into the arms of the man who had just walked in. He addressed the judge without a second glance in my direction. “Your Honor, my wife would never intentionally hit someone. This is clearly an attempt at insurance fraud, and it must be punished severely.” When I saw the back of that man, the blood in my veins turned to ice. That man in the impeccably tailored suit, the very picture of a polished, elite lawyer, was none other than my husband, Vincent. The same husband who had told me he was being sent away on a mandatory work assignment for six months. … At his touch, the woman pointed a dramatic finger past his shoulder, her voice thick with self-pity. “It was her! She got blood all over the new car you bought me. It’s bad luck!” Vincent followed her finger. His gaze landed on me, and the anger in his eyes flickered into shock. But only for a moment. Three seconds later, his expression became a cold, unfamiliar mask. “I am Ms. Monroe’s legal counsel,” he stated flatly. “You will direct your comments to me.” The man I had shared a bed with for five years spoke to me like a stranger. Every question I wanted to scream died in my throat, choking me. Just a few weeks ago, he’d called to say his firm was transferring him to the next city over for a project, with double the pay. He became impossible to reach, my calls unanswered, my texts ignored. I had navigated my pregnancy alone—lugging myself to appointments, running up and down the stairs of the clinic five, six times for a single check-up, my swollen belly leading the way. And all that time, he was here, with another woman, building another life. The thought sent a fresh wave of pain through my healing wounds, and I instinctively hunched over. Only then did Vincent’s gaze fall to my now-flat stomach. “The baby…” he started, his voice a low murmur. Isabelle cut him off sharply. “A woman like that doesn’t deserve to have children anyway. They’d just grow up to be trash like her.” She tightened her grip on his arm. “But this car is worth a fortune, honey. She has to pay!” I dug my nails into my palms, my heart hammering against my ribs. Vincent had told me his family was bankrupt, that they had lost everything paying off debts. He’d asked me to be patient, to live modestly for a while. So I did. I pinched every penny, comparison shopping for something as simple as a green onion. The anxiety of providing for our coming child had become so overwhelming I needed medication just to function. Now, standing here, my pathetic scrimping seemed like a clown’s act compared to her multi-million-dollar car. “Darling, I want her to pay for the repairs. And I want an apology,” Isabelle cooed, swaying on his arm. I stood frozen, my heart in my throat. Vincent looked troubled, as if he wanted to object, but at her insistent pout, he let out a weary, indulgent smile. He turned his gaze to me, and it was filled with a clear warning. “Just apologize to my wife.” The words hit me like a physical blow. A chilling cold spread through my limbs. I had lost our child, our child, and he was telling me to apologize to the woman who killed it. At the judge’s impatient prompting, I moved like a wooden doll and bowed. “Ms. Monroe… I’m sorry.” She ignored me completely, linking her arm through Vincent’s. “You couldn’t afford the repair costs in a hundred lifetimes. We’ll settle for three hundred thousand. Let’s call it a lesson.” The number was staggering. My heart, which I thought couldn’t get any colder, turned to a solid block of ice. Vincent looked at her with adoration, not sparing me another glance. He seemed to have forgotten the time I sold my own family heirlooms to scrape together money for my mother’s medical bills, and even then, I couldn’t come up with a sum like that. I walked out of the courthouse alone, clutching the court order. A Maybach sped past, jolting me back to the cruel reality. A text from Vincent buzzed on my phone. “Wait for me at home. We’ll talk. Don’t let her find out about you.” A silent tear traced a path down my cheek. Eight months of pregnancy, five years of marriage I had poured my soul into—all of it had just become a sick joke. When I stepped into my apartment building, I was met with chaos. Movers were carelessly tossing my belongings out into the hallway. I lunged forward, desperate to stop them. “What are you doing? Stop it!” Just then, Vincent emerged from our apartment, looking calm and composed in his sharp suit. “You need to move out for a while,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion. “It’s for your own good.” I started to tremble, my voice a raw whisper. “Five years. You lied to me for five years. Isn’t that enough? Are you trying to drive me to the edge? Do you even have a heart?” Vincent closed his eyes and sighed, a picture of weary patience. “Can you please not make a scene?” “My relationship with Isabelle was arranged by our families. I kept you a secret to protect you. You can understand that, can’t you?” he continued, his voice infuriatingly reasonable. “And this entire building… I bought it for Isabelle. Now that she’s seen you, you can’t stay here. She’d find you eventually.” My vision blurred with tears, but his words became painfully clear. Every single one was a stab to the heart. The home that held five years of my life, of our memories, had never been mine at all. As he turned to leave, he tossed a set of keys at my feet. “My assistant will take you. You’ll stay in the suburbs for now. Don’t be difficult.” I watched his retreating back and, with a final surge of despair, picked up the keys and hurled them uselessly after him. I never imagined the man I had loved and supported could become so monstrous. Vincent’s assistant drove me to a magnificent villa. The moment I stepped inside, he locked the door behind me. The first thing I saw was a massive framed photograph hanging on the wall. A smiling family of three. Vincent and Isabelle, holding a little boy who looked to be about three years old. He didn’t care about the baby in my belly because he already had a son. Then I saw the date printed on the corner of the photo. My heart plummeted. That was the day my father died of a sudden heart attack. I had been crouched in a hospital corridor, calling Vincent over and over, my voice raw with grief. He had sounded so tired, so distant. “I’m sorry, honey. The boss sent me on another business trip. I won’t be back for a week.” He had rushed off the phone without a single word of comfort. While I was drowning in the worst grief of my life, he was here, taking a family portrait with them. I lost control. I ripped the photo from the wall and smashed it on the floor, then collapsed among the shards, sobbing without a sound. When the tears finally ran dry, I took out my phone and contacted a lawyer. “I need you to draw up divorce papers.” I stared at my hands, numbly noticing the blood seeping from the cuts, the wounds on my body still fresh and unhealed. On instinct, I dialed Vincent’s number. The first time, he rejected the call. The second time, it went straight to voicemail. The pain, both physical and emotional, became too much, and I passed out. I was jolted awake by two or three large men bursting into the room. They grabbed me, forcing me into a car that sped through the night. It took me back to the hospital. They threw me onto a bed in a private room and tied my hands and feet to the railings. My eyes widened in terror as I saw one of them approach with a thick needle. “What are you doing?” I screamed, struggling against my restraints. Then, a face contorted with rage appeared in my line of sight. It was Vincent. “I warned you not to show your face to Isabelle,” he hissed. “You just had to test me.” “She knows about you now. She tried to kill herself. She slit her wrists,” he snarled, his voice trembling. “I know you have a rare blood type. The same as hers. You’re going to save her.” He spun around and barked at a terrified-looking doctor. “Do it now! My wife is waiting!” Through the haze of pain, I could see how pale he was, his lips shaking as he spoke. I had never seen him so frantic. I had no time to fight back. The thick needle plunged into my arm, and a searing pain shot through my entire body. The world started to spin as the blood drained from me, and I blacked out. I don’t know how much time passed, but I woke to a violent, cramping pain in my lower abdomen. “What… what’s happening to me?” I whispered, looking down to see the sheets beneath me soaked in blood. A terrible premonition seized me. I begged the doctor for an answer until he finally, reluctantly, spoke. “After Ms. Monroe found out you were pregnant with her husband’s child… she became very agitated. She insisted… she demanded we remove your uterus. Mr. Donovan signed the consent forms.” The world tilted on its axis. They killed my baby. That wasn’t enough. Now they had stolen my right to ever be a mother. A choked sob escaped me, followed by a mouthful of blood. Just then, my phone began to vibrate violently. It was flooded with notifications. “If you’re that desperate for a man, try a steel wool sponge, not someone else’s husband.” “Homewreckers are so shameless these days. She even tried to use a baby to trap him!” … The words “mistress,” “slut,” “homewrecker” swam before my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. I was Vincent’s wife. We were legally married. How could I be the one branded with this shame? Fighting through the pain, I posted a photo of our marriage certificate online, along with a clear timeline of our relationship. But the response was not what I expected. Someone zoomed in on the photo. “That seal is a fake! This bitch will stop at nothing!” My jaw dropped. I magnified the image myself, my heart pounding. It was true. It looked… off. A moment later, Isabelle posted a photo of her own marriage certificate online, with a close-up of the crisp, official seal. At the same time, my phone rang. It was Vincent. “That certificate she has… is that one real?” I demanded, the words tumbling out. I remembered the day we went to the courthouse. My mother was on her deathbed, and her last wish was to see us married. He had held my hand, looked into my eyes, and sworn to protect me for the rest of his life. Now, his voice was cold, clinical. “I had to give her a proper status. I couldn’t let her be with me without a legal title.” “It’s different with you,” he continued, as if explaining something simple to a child. “You would stay with me no matter what. Let’s not get hung up on the details right now.” I could hear the sound of things crashing in the background. “Isabelle is very unstable at the moment. You need to apologize to her. Post a public statement. Admit that you were the other woman.” I was so stunned I could barely breathe. “I was the one who was lied to for five years! Why in God’s name would I apologize?” A cold laugh echoed down the line. “Because your mother is still breathing thanks to my money and my medical connections. You think about that,” he said, and hung up. I collapsed onto the bed, limp and powerless. My mother’s illness was a relentless beast, each hospital stay costing tens of thousands. Vincent had covered it all. No matter how busy he was, he always found time to visit her. “Elise,” he would say, “don’t stress. We’ll get your mom through this. She’s my mom too.” And now, he was using my only remaining family, my mother’s very life, as a weapon against me. I checked myself out of the hospital, my body still a wreck, and started looking for a job. But my face was all over the news. People recognized me. They threw garbage at me, rotten vegetables. “Who would hire a morally corrupt homewrecker like you? Get lost!” “God knows what kind of diseases she’s carrying!” I was a pariah. The news eventually reached my mother. She called me, her voice barely a whisper. “Elise… don’t… don’t beg him… for my sake…” The shrill, flat-lining beep of a monitor sliced through the phone. “Mom, don’t worry about me!” I choked back a sob. “I have to go!” In the end, I went to him. Seeing that I had surrendered, a satisfied smile touched Vincent’s lips. He handed me a prepared speech. “After you go live and admit to being the other woman, I’ll compensate you.” Before I could process his words, a horde of reporters swarmed me, their cameras flashing like a firing squad. “This is a public execution!” I gasped, horrified. Vincent leaned in, his voice a soft, cruel whisper in my ear. “You don’t have to do the broadcast. You can just go tell your mother to her face. Tell her you’re a mistress. She hates them more than anyone, doesn’t she?” My heart seized. He knew. He knew my mother’s health had collapsed the day she found out my father was having an affair. Telling her this would be a death sentence. She was all I had left. I couldn’t lose her. I swallowed the blood that had risen in my throat and, in front of all the cameras, I knelt before Isabelle. “I’m sorry, Ms. Monroe,” I said, my voice hollow. “I tried to destroy your family. I tried to use my child to trap your husband. I am shameless.” “I… am… sorry.” I bowed my head to the floor, again and again, like a dog stripped of all dignity, until blood blurred my vision. When it was over, I looked up, first at Isabelle’s triumphant smirk, then at Vincent. “Was that apology… good enough for you?” I saw his chest heave, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He cleared his throat and tossed a bank card at my feet. “Three million. That should be enough. Go save your mother.” I snatched the card and ran. I ran all the way to the hospital. When I saw my mother lying pale and still in her bed, I began to shake uncontrollably. I thrust the card at the doctor. “Please,” I begged, “you have to save her!” A few minutes later, he returned, a grim look on his face. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ve tried several times. This card has been frozen.” My mind went blank. My eyes fell to the gold bracelet on my wrist. “This! This has to be worth something! It’s solid gold!” The doctor gave it a cursory glance, his expression softening with pity. “Ma’am… I think you’ve been scammed. This is just gold-plated steel.” The bracelet slipped from my numb fingers and hit the floor with a hollow clink. Vincent had given it to me right after I found out I was pregnant. I had begged him for it. Even when I was publicly humiliating myself, I hadn’t considered selling it. It turned out that in his eyes, both me and our child were worthless. The heart monitor beside my mother’s bed let out a long, piercing scream. Her eyes closed. A sound of pure agony ripped from my throat. I walked out onto the rooftop, holding her ashes. My phone buzzed with a message from Vincent. [Sorry, I’m at the hospital with Isabelle. She’s on an IV. I’ll come see Mom as soon as she’s asleep. Tell her not to worry.] [I bought a new house for you. Just tell me what you want.] [Isabelle said she’s willing to turn a blind eye. I’ll make more time for you from now on.] I didn’t reply. The cold wind on the hospital roof whipped my hair across my face as I walked toward the edge. “Vincent,” I whispered to the wind, “there is no ‘us’ anymore.” And with a small, sad smile, I stepped off the ledge. At that exact moment, in a room floors below, Vincent glanced idly out the window. His eyes widened, his pupils contracting in horror.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426719”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel