I deleted my family vlog channel. My best friend Amy Wilson came to confront me: “Are you crazy? Do you know how much that channel is worth?!” I blocked her and started a new life alone with my children. In my previous life, I had made a career out of sharing our family life. A pair of adorable twins attracted millions of followers. Amy exposed that my children were born through surrogacy, even though I lived in New York where it’s legal. Internet users called me a hypocrite and even attacked my children offline. I posted photos of myself pregnant and medical records, but they accused me of faking them. My children died in a car accident due to the extreme behavior of some internet users. Unable to bear the cyberbullying, I jumped from my apartment. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I posted the first video of the twins. “All done! The babies did so well!” I hugged the twins and saved the newly recorded video for editing. Suddenly, I shuddered. Looking at the familiar surroundings and the lively babies in my arms, I realized I had been reborn to the day I posted the first video of the twins. After calming down, I immediately withdrew the video I had just posted. Then I searched for Amy’s social media accounts. Information related to Amy quickly popped up. The first result wasn’t her account, but an official video about the ethical concerns of surrogacy. Her comment was the top one: [I’ll take the lead in resolutely opposing surrogacy.] Amy had attracted quite a few followers due to her frequent interactions with me, and was now considered a minor influencer. I clicked on her account. Her latest video had just been posted. With a dark background and somber music: — What should you do if your best friend does something unethical? Followers were asking what had happened, but she didn’t reply. Instead, she liked a comment speculating that it had something to do with me. [As we all know, Amy’s best friend is a famous vlogger. This vlogger’s recent videos have low engagement. Could she be up to something behind the scenes?] The ambiguous words and comments guiding public opinion were exactly the same as what I had experienced in my previous life. My account’s follower engagement dropped sharply, and brand partnerships were suspended. In my previous life, I had quickly pivoted to editing the twins’ daily life videos, rapidly becoming an annual top vlogger with millions of followers. But at the same time, I fell into a whirlpool of public opinion. Followers no longer commented “Cute babies, auntie loves you” or “So adorable, I want to steal them.” Only attacks remained: [Looking at your old videos, I thought you were a good mother. I never expected you to be such a person in private. Disgusting!] Searching for keywords, I found Amy’s apology video. She looked dejected with red-rimmed eyes, choking up as she began: “First, I want to apologize to my followers who like me. I’m sorry.” “I’ve been wallowing in regret lately, even falling into depression. I don’t deserve your love.” “Thankfully, my team has been by my side, showing me various educational videos. Now, I’ve decided to stand up and expose the filth behind the beautiful videos.” “My best friend Lily Harrison, due to health issues, couldn’t get pregnant. A year ago, she spent $200,000 on surrogacy for a pair of twins.” Amy posted various pieces of evidence, including chat logs between “me” and the surrogacy agency, payment records, and the entire process of “me” visiting the surrogate mother while pretending to be pregnant myself. I was furious. To prove that the children were born to me, I also published photos from throughout my pregnancy, as well as prenatal check-up records. But it was useless. Internet users found traces of photoshopping in my photos and wrote long posts analyzing from various angles how I didn’t have time to have children. If I wasn’t certain that the children came from my own womb, I would have doubted whether I had really used a surrogate. Internet users began to cyberbully me: [You prepared these photos long ago, didn’t you? Too bad that everything leaves traces. Photoshop can’t hide the truth.] [Boycott surrogacy.] [LOL, you asked for it.] [Everyone, let’s report her account. We can’t allow this kind of vlogger to continue deceiving people.] Even Amy’s company issued a statement saying they had notarized the evidence and handed it over to the police. Justice might be late, but it would never be absent. My husband Jack also chose this moment to file for divorce, saying he couldn’t accept what I had done and had been living in regret since the children were born. This undoubtedly nailed me to the pillar of shame. I couldn’t defend myself. My videos were reported by countless internet users, and former brand partners demanded compensation for the negative publicity online. The children were even expelled from kindergarten to avoid harassment from overzealous internet users. They died in a car accident while fleeing. My psychological defenses completely collapsed, and I jumped from my apartment. When I opened my eyes again, I had unexpectedly returned to where it all began. The children hadn’t been exposed yet, and my account hadn’t reached the influence it had in my previous life. There was still a chance to change everything.

I searched online for all information related to Amy and finally found her alternate account. She liked to share her daily life but never showed her face. If I hadn’t seen the personalized wine glass I gave her in a video, I would never have imagined this was her account. A romance influencer selling a sweet love story. Every video was a carefully scripted scene, promoting her daily life with her boyfriend. The boyfriend never appeared on camera. All the videos were just Amy’s one-sided narration, accompanied by chat screenshots and altered voice recordings. The lifestyle she revealed in the videos was exceptionally luxurious, and the filming locations were completely unfamiliar. Just as I was starting to doubt whether I had found the wrong account, I suddenly discovered a fleeting figure in one video. I paused countless times and saw that in the corner, half of a hand was exposed, wearing a top-tier diamond-encrusted men’s watch. Jack, my husband, had the same watch! It turned out that they had been involved long before I knew anything about it. No wonder he was so quick to file for divorce after I got into trouble, coordinating with Amy’s company’s statement. No wonder Amy could so easily take over my million-follower account after my death. But thinking about the children’s tragic deaths, I had no energy to care about Jack’s infidelity. I started to think. Jack was my legal husband, living under the same roof. He indeed had the opportunity to tamper with my photos and pregnancy records. I immediately gathered the photos taken during my pregnancy and the prenatal check-up records and went to the notary office to have them notarized. Ensuring that all the materials provided were verified as valid. Then I rushed home before Jack, pretending nothing had happened. To be on the safe side, I decided to post videos as usual. After much consideration, I finally came up with a new angle: a full-time housewife pranking her husband who rarely comes home. I called Jack to confirm when he’d be home, then set up traps according to online tutorials and pointed a camera at the front door. The moment Jack opened the door, dirty mop water mixed with various kitchen garbage poured down from above. “Lily Harrison, what are you—” “Surprise!” I ran to the living room laughing, hinting at the camera that was filming. He had to swallow his anger. I ran in front of the camera: “Husband’s first day coming home late, prank successful!” But my gaze unconsciously followed Jack. Seeing him carefully wiping his men’s watch, my mood inevitably sank. This should be safe now, right? To prevent accidents, I didn’t immediately post the video. Instead, I used a burner account to comment under Amy’s videos: [Sister, have you been feeling down lately? Don’t worry, no matter what happens, we’re here for you!] [Feel free to speak up, we fans will definitely help you get justice!!] She quickly replied: [Thank you, baby. I encountered some unpleasant things in life, but it’s been handled.] Sure enough, she was laying the groundwork for her future false exposé. I kept using burner accounts to express concern for her, encouraging her to speak out about the bad things. Other fans also chimed in, pushing the video to another peak of popularity. This time, I won’t post daily videos of the twins. I want to see how she’ll wrap this up. I quickly finished editing the prank video and logged into the backend of my account to post it. Just as I finished writing the caption, a notification suddenly popped up on my phone. I clicked to take a look and immediately turned pale.

Amy had updated. She specifically shared my concerned comment and simultaneously posted a video. She also added in the comments: [I originally wanted to deal with the negative emotions myself, but the love from my fan babies gave me courage. I decided to be brave and stand up against misconduct. Otherwise, when the truth comes out in the future, I, as someone who knew, would become an accomplice. My fan babies would be disappointed in me, which is the last thing I want to see.] I unconsciously swallowed, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. I clicked on her video. Unlike the real-name exposé in my previous life, she didn’t name names or present evidence. Instead, she started by telling a story, recounting the entire process of “me” being unable to conceive and desperately seeking a surrogate mother. Meanwhile, my main account, which I hadn’t updated, also posted a video. The content was the daily life of the twin babies that I had deleted. What’s going on? I looked at the content on the account in horror, unable to understand. This video had clearly been deleted, and my account had always been managed by myself. Even Jack didn’t know the password. Who posted the twins’ content? Have I been reborn once, only to be unable to change anything, forced to watch myself be cyberbullied and repeat the tragic ending of my previous life? Soon, Amy’s exposé hit the trending topics. Surrogacy was a hot topic recently, and internet users were disgusted by it. They left comments under the video: [Can someone decode this? Who is she talking about?] [I hate surrogacy the most!] [Who else could it be? Someone who could make Amy so conflicted must be a close friend. Think about who has twins, and that’s who it is.] A string of replies all contributed to uncovering the truth. Amy quickly replied to the latest comment: [Baby, you guessed right. The person is a very good friend of mine. I care about her a lot, and I don’t want to see her like this, nor do I want her to be cyberbullied. So… please don’t ask anymore.] She didn’t name names, but she gave internet users a direction to speculate. Various clues eventually converged on me. The comment section of the twins’ video completely collapsed. The door of the study was opened. Jack walked in angrily with a tablet, which was playing Amy’s latest exposé video: “What are you and Amy up to?!” “I didn’t agree when you said you wanted to run a video account before. Later, I only let you play around because the data wasn’t bad.” “What’s going on now? Is the traffic not good, so you’re using your own children for hype?” “Do you know how much criticism the babies will face outside because of what you two are doing? And how much money will my company lose because of you?” He threw the tablet in front of me and opened WeChat, sending me a file package: “Here are the clarification materials my assistant prepared. Post them immediately to eliminate the negative impact as soon as possible.” Having been through this once, I understood Jack’s intention. All the photos in the file package he prepared had been photoshopped. Sure enough, Jack’s company account posted a statement. Jack admitted that we hadn’t had children for a long time after getting married, and between the lines, he was saying that he felt ashamed for listening to my manipulation to use methods to have the two children. He didn’t directly say it was surrogacy. But this kind of ambiguous description, at this timing, would only make internet users think in one direction. Amy even commented under his post: [Since Jack has spoken up, I won’t hide it anymore.] Then on her own account, she posted all the prepared evidence. Their back-and-forth coordination completely nailed me. Fans who had spoken up for me deleted their comments one after another. The online public opinion once again formed the one-sided situation of my previous life. Some internet users even dug up my burner account and found the comments I had left urging Amy to tell the truth. [Damn, seemingly concerned but actually warning her? What were you planning to do? If Amy dared to reveal anything, you’d use your husband’s family’s power to suppress her?] [But you didn’t expect it, did you? Our Amy has evidence against you, and your husband doesn’t approve of you either, so he won’t help you!] I didn’t use the file package Jack gave me to clarify. Instead, I planned to publish my own notarized evidence. But when I finished editing the content and was about to post it, my account was banned. I contacted customer service in the backend and tried every way to call the platform’s executives. The only response I got was: “We’re very sorry, Ms. Harrison, but due to the massive negative impact you’ve caused, according to network security regulations, the platform has the right to ban your account.” I asked when it could be unbanned. The answer I got was that it would never be possible! I wasn’t convinced and kept calling until an executive finally told me impatiently: “Ms. Harrison, if you want to unban the account, why don’t you ask your family?” I couldn’t help but laugh. In my previous life, Amy had easily taken over my account and used it to secure multiple brand deals, helping Jack’s company get through the financial crisis. They did this because they wanted to make money using my account while getting rid of me at the same time. I stared at the account backend on the screen, unconsciously moving the mouse to [Delete Account] and clicked. Without this account, let’s see what you plan to do next.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295262”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #校园School #惊悚Thriller #重生Reborn

In the seventh year of our marriage, I discovered two letters my husband had written to his first love. One was a love letter, the other a will. “In our next life, you’ll be my wife,” he wrote. “I’m leaving you my estate. Even after I’m gone, I won’t let anyone mistreat you.” I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh as I bought a plane ticket. That morning, I ironed my husband’s shirt one last time and saw him off at the door. In the entryway, he hesitated, waiting for my usual goodbye kiss that never came. “Anna, don’t be upset. The lipstick stain from last night was just a misunderstanding,” Christopher said, his voice tinged with frustration. “I was just giving a friend a ride home. Don’t overthink it.” I didn’t cry or make a scene. “Oh, I don’t mind,” I replied coolly. Because I had already found someone new and was preparing for my second marriage. But he panicked. After sending Christopher Evans off, he lingered at the door, waiting for something. My tone was indifferent. “You’ve got your briefcase and watch. What else do you need?” Christopher’s jaw tightened, his brows furrowed as he maintained a dignified silence. Seven years of marriage, and before that, I had pursued him for three years. A decade of love, and I knew every little movement and gesture of Christopher’s body. He was waiting for a goodbye kiss. Because I hadn’t leaned in to kiss him and say “I love you” as usual, he felt something was off. “Anna Lee, are you still angry? The lipstick stain was a misunderstanding.” “That girl wasn’t feeling well, so I gave her a ride home. It was an accident.” “I’ve been explaining all night, the evidence is clear. Can’t you be a bit more rational?” His tone was calm, but every word carried a hint of reproach. Christopher was a lawyer, always logical in his speech, never leaving any loopholes. Even our prenuptial agreement was written meticulously. It didn’t shortchange me, nor did it show favoritism. Last night, because of that cologne-scented suit jacket, I had cried and yelled. It was the same jacket I had carefully ironed that morning, without leaving a single crease. To learn that technique, my fingers were covered in burn marks, wrinkled and unsightly. But that evening, his jacket carried someone else’s perfume and kiss. The color and scent of the lipstick were familiar to me – his first love’s favorite. When we first started dating, Christopher would buy perfumes and cosmetics for me. I was touched, thinking this would be for life. Although the color and scent were subtle, I didn’t like them at all. But it was his gesture of affection, wasn’t it? I suggested changing to a different kind, but year after year, Christopher kept sending the same ones, regardless of whether I liked them or not. Later, I found out that he was actually buying them for his first love. Giving them to her was genuine; giving them to me was just an afterthought. “I believe you, okay?” I said, glancing at my bare finger. I had taken off my ring the night before, leaving a red mark on my ring finger. Would Christopher notice? If he had shown even a hint of wanting me to stay, I might have softened and forgiven him one more time. But Christopher quickly glanced past my hand, ready to leave for work. “Oh, and I want to eat fish tonight,” he said casually, assigning me a task as if I were more of a housekeeper than a wife. Watching his tall figure disappear into the elevator, I felt my heart sink a little more.

I found the love letter and the will on the bookshelf. They were brazenly tucked into a romance novel, as if he didn’t care if they were discovered. Christopher never allowed me into his study. I had always been obedient, never entering in all these years of marriage. But that day, Christopher had left a document behind and made an exception by giving me the study’s password. “The password is 716523,” he said. I was taken aback. The first three digits were Christopher’s birthday, but the last three weren’t mine. The voice on the phone was urging, “The court is about to start, hurry up.” In my haste to grab the document, I knocked over a book. Christopher never read romance novels, but when I opened the pink cover, I saw his first love’s name inside. “To Claire Wilson, with love.” “You are my lifelong treasure.” This sentence was in Christopher’s neat, flowing handwriting. His handwriting was beautiful. Many times, I had wanted him to write me a letter, but Christopher always refused, saying he didn’t like handwritten letters, that they were too much trouble. Inside the book, Christopher’s handwritten letters to his first love fell out. One was a love letter, the other a will. The love letter was a full 19 pages long, the writing getting smaller and smaller until he added a final note: “The paper is short, but my love is long.” The will was written cautiously, meticulously. Christopher had a hereditary disease and feared he might suddenly pass away. In the will, there was also a list of assets, with the majority left to his first love. Christopher had even bought life insurance, naming his first love as the beneficiary. “Claire, even if I leave this world before you, I will protect you for the rest of your life.” The contract was written formally and properly, but every word showed his bias towards his first love. That night, when Christopher reached out to remove my shoulder strap, I pushed his hand away, feeling slightly nauseated. “Anna? I want you,” he called out passionately, his fingertips tracing my collarbone. Usually, I would shyly let him do as he pleased. “It’s my fertile period now. You said you didn’t want children yet,” I replied calmly, stating a fact. On our first day of marriage, he had set three rules with me, one being no children yet. But to his family, Christopher used my physical unsuitability as an excuse. Completely avoiding his own reasons. Every time my in-laws saw me, they wore disapproving expressions. I had been taking fertility drugs they sent for a year after year. My menstrual cycle had become irregular from all the medication. When I saw a doctor, she warned, “If this continues, it will be very difficult for you to have children.” I went home and told Christopher, and a flash of joy crossed his eyes. “My parents are just concerned about me. Please bear with it for my sake, darling.” “My career is on the rise. We’ll have children when things stabilize.” Christopher coaxed me for a few days, and I softened, willingly continuing to drink the bitter medicine. Now, hearing my refusal, Christopher’s face cooled, and he turned over to sleep without another word. “I won’t initiate anything for the rest of this month,” he said. I lay awake all night. Although it was a double bed, my back had been cold for years. He knew I was prone to cold, but all year round, Christopher kept his distance. Except when he needed me. I opened my phone and booked a one-way ticket back to my hometown. I sent a message to my mother, “Mom, I’m preparing for a second marriage. Can you help me find someone?” She immediately agreed. “My good daughter, you’ve finally decided to leave that ungrateful man!” “Wait, your mother has a wide circle of acquaintances.”

Before I met him, I knew he had a first love. When they got engaged, his parents interfered, and his first love threw a tantrum, refusing Christopher’s proposal. But the hotel and the officiant had already been arranged. Christopher, too proud to back down, turned to me instead. “Anna Lee, would you like to give us a try?” he asked. His gaze was determined, and he didn’t even kneel. He just looked down at me. Because Christopher knew I wouldn’t refuse his request. After all, I had pursued him for three years. That day, I gave up my overseas assignment and directly put on the veil, registering for a flash marriage. Everyone around me said that after three years, I had finally succeeded. I was also secretly delighted that I could marry him. Christopher was handsome and from a well-off family. Within a few years of our marriage, his law firm had branches all over the city. When we went out, people called me Mrs. Evans. That day, I waited for him in the parking lot, ecstatic with a positive pregnancy test. His career was stable now, and a child would be the icing on the cake. The car was parked in its spot, windows tightly closed. I sweetly tapped on the window, pressing my face close. “Mr. Evans, you’re going to be a daddy!” But Christopher hurriedly rolled down the window, and a familiar scent wafted out from the car. Faint, but enough to make my eyes burn red. In the passenger seat, his first love also had teary eyes, her lipstick smeared messily. “I’m so sorry, sister-in-law. I forced a kiss on Christopher,” she said. “I just had a bad breakup and lost control of my emotions.” “You won’t mind, right?” With her back to Christopher, Claire Wilson spoke in a gentle tone, but the corners of her mouth curled up, her eyes curved in a smile as she made a mocking gesture towards me. I threw the pregnancy test directly at her face, shaking with anger from head to toe. “Get out!” “Is this how your parents taught you to be a homewrecker?” But Christopher raised his hand and slapped me. My ear rang, and my right earlobe hurt badly. The earring he had given me fell off, along with a bit of flesh. I clutched my face in panic, collapsing to the ground. A dull pain spread through my lower abdomen, like waves crashing over me. He looked at my bloodshot face in shock but still spoke righteously, “You’ve gone too far, Anna Lee. You know very well that Claire comes from a single-parent family.” “I hate it most when people rub salt in others’ wounds. How did you become so vicious?” My stomach hurt badly, and I curled up, begging Christopher to take me to the hospital. “I’m pregnant, hurry up, honey.” The word “honey” stopped Christopher, but the first love in the passenger seat let out a whimper. “Ow, it hurts.” His attention was immediately drawn to his first love. She also clutched her forehead, where there was only a bruise the size of a fingernail. “Chris, my head really hurts. But you should take your wife first, isn’t she pregnant?” Claire said, her eyes full of tears and grievance, constantly sniffling. Christopher hurriedly caught her tears and instinctively started the car. “Anna Lee, this is intentional harm. If anything happens to Claire, I will sue you.” The lawyer with a 100% win rate, my husband, was now threatening to sue me because of his first love. “Honey, I’m pregnant,” I said again. Christopher frowned, “Being pregnant is not an excuse for being impolite.” “You’re not that fragile. Stop pretending, have some self-respect.” The car drove away. I ended up losing the baby. But Christopher stayed with me for a month, attending to me day and night, feeding me nutritious meals, coaxing me through treatment, and even helping me bathe. This proud man was willing to put aside his dignity. Everyone advised me, saying men make mistakes sometimes, and I should forgive him. I softened my heart again. He wrote a promise, guaranteeing he wouldn’t let me hurt even a finger. “Anna, in this life, I only recognize you as my wife.” “Claire Wilson is just an ordinary friend to me.”

When the news of Christopher getting into a fight reached me, I was throwing out the last of the garbage. All the photos of Christopher and me, gone. Along with our couple outfits and handmade preserved flowers. Things I used to cherish so much now seemed like fragile, useless trash. The couple outfits I bought for Christopher, he never wanted to wear, thinking it beneath his dignity. But in the closet, there was always a pair of watches, the men’s one for him, and I had seen his first love wearing the women’s one. “Come quick, Christopher is fighting with someone in the parking lot!” “His forehead is bleeding, and his fingers are injured too!” As a lawyer with a reputation to uphold, he rarely got into conflicts with others. Even when cut off in traffic, he would silently note down the license plate and report it, never dirtying his own hands. Always calm and restrained, even when I had a car accident, he could deal with it without changing his expression. Initially, I fell in love with his cool rationality, but now, I only hated his calmness. Because he would lose control for other women, but remained overly rational with me. I tilted my head to hold the phone, unhurriedly cutting the lucky bamboo. This was a plant I had nurtured for seven years, praying for his well-being. Now, I was breaking it piece by piece, stuffing it into the trash can. “Who was Christopher fighting for?” I asked, cutting straight to the point.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295261”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #校园School #惊悚Thriller

At the company gala, my fiancée clung to her first love—the so-called “golden boy” of her past—and smugly demanded I step aside. “Starting today, all your client accounts will be transferred to him,” she announced with a condescending smile. “And as for you, there’s an opening in the janitorial department. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” The room fell silent. All eyes were on me, waiting for the inevitable—me groveling, begging her to reconsider, swallowing my pride for her sake. But what they didn’t realize was this: without me, those clients would vanish overnight, and the company? It would crumble within weeks. I let out a cold, detached laugh and turned on my heel, walking away without a word. By the end of the night, I’d already signed with her biggest rival—the one person she hated the most. You see, I’m not satisfied with just watching her company fail. I’m here to destroy everything she thought she could take from me. For five years, Chloe Hill and I had built something together—both a company and what I thought was a relationship. She always said, “Once the company is stable, we’ll get married.” I believed her. So I worked like a madman, day and night, entertaining clients, closing deals, and doing everything in my power to build the life she wanted. The life we wanted. And it worked. The company grew steadily, year after year. With our largest shipment yet arriving soon, I was already planning how to propose. Tonight was supposed to be the company’s celebration party. Chloe had smiled at me that morning, tying my tie with her usual grace. “Don’t forget to come back early for the party,” she said, her voice soft and full of warmth. I promised I would. But when the shipment arrived late, I had no choice but to go handle it myself. This was the biggest deal our company had ever secured, and I couldn’t afford even the smallest mistake. For two weeks, I’d barely left the office, sleeping on the couch, eating cheap takeout, and working myself to the bone to make sure this deal went smoothly. By the time I finished, it was nearly 10 PM. Exhausted but eager to see Chloe, I drove straight to the hotel where the celebration was being held. But as I approached the door to the private room, laughter and voices drifted out, freezing me in my tracks. “You mean Daniel Brooks?” Chloe’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, followed by a laugh that made my stomach turn. “Marry him? Are you serious? What a joke.” My hand hovered over the doorknob, my entire body going cold. “He’s just a pathetic loser who works himself to death for me,” she sneered. “I only keep him around to do the grunt work.” Her words hit me like a sledgehammer. “All he does is drink and schmooze with clients. No romance, no charm. He’s nothing like my baby—someone who actually knows how to treat me.” A man’s voice broke in, low and suggestive. “Come here, babe. Let hubby take care of you.” Then came the unmistakable sound of kissing. My mind went blank. That voice—it was Jacob Scott, the new assistant Chloe had recently hired. She’d told me he was an old college friend and insisted he’d be a great addition to the team. I’d trusted her. Jacob had been nothing but polite to me, always staying late at the office, bringing her coffee, and helping with her workload. I’d even praised him for his diligence. But now, it was all clear. He wasn’t staying late to work—he was staying late to be with her. These two had been sneaking around right under my nose. “You’re the only one I trust with the clients,” Chloe purred, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “Now that the company is big enough, there’s no need to keep him around anymore.” Jacob hesitated. “What if he takes the clients with him?” Chloe laughed dismissively. “This is my company. He’s just an employee. If he tries to leave, I’ll make sure he never works in this industry again. What does he think, that the company can’t survive without him?” The sound of glasses clinking and laughter filled the room. “Ms. Hill and Jacob are such a great match,” someone chimed in, their voice full of fake enthusiasm. “Daniel’s just some desperate loser—he should be grateful to step aside.” Another voice added, “Honestly, Jacob’s the real deal. That guy? He’s just a placeholder.” Jacob chuckled, and I heard him say, “This seat was always mine. Just like Chloe has always been mine.” Chloe giggled, her voice dripping with flirtation. “Oh, stop. You know I’ve always been yours. Even back in college…” Her words trailed off into playful laughter, and my blood boiled. I stood frozen, my mind replaying the last six months. Chloe had been “traveling for business” more often than ever, always coming home smelling of a different perfume. On the nights she stayed in, she was distant, always claiming she was tired. And the times she was affectionate? Now I wondered how much of that was just her scrubbing away the scent of another man. Every tender word, every night spent together—it all felt like a knife twisting in my chest. I wasn’t Chloe’s boyfriend. I was her workhorse, her stepping stone, her fool. Inside, Chloe’s voice turned sweet again, but it wasn’t for me. “Jacob, you’re the only one who knows how to treat me right.” My stomach churned. So she could act playful and vulnerable—just not for me. For me, she’d always played the strong, independent businesswoman. Five years. Five years of my life wasted on a woman who saw me as nothing more than a means to an end. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. For a moment, I thought about walking away, but something inside me snapped. I wouldn’t let her get away with this. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door. The laughter stopped immediately.

Chloe was wearing a backless gown tonight, and Jacob’s hand was resting on her bare back, sliding up and down. The two of them stood so close, their faces practically touching, exuding a level of intimacy that made me want to vomit. When Chloe saw me, her expression flickered with annoyance, but she quickly regained her composure, slipping back into her usual air of superiority. “Oh, you’re here? Why didn’t you call to let me know?” she asked, pushing Jacob aside and smoothing her dress with feigned elegance. “Sorry,” I replied coldly, my eyes fixed on the red marks on her neck. “I was in a rush and forgot.” She glanced at me with thinly veiled contempt. “Why are you so late? Seriously, you spent all night dealing with one shipment? What’s wrong with you lately?” I let out a bitter laugh and replied with an icy tone, “Yeah, good thing I didn’t come back later—otherwise, I might’ve caught you two in a hotel room.” Chloe’s face froze, her expression darkening in an instant. “What are you implying?” she snapped. “Jacob and I are just friends. Don’t you dare make baseless accusations!” “Just friends?” I said, my gaze dropping to her swollen lips. “Then what, exactly, is his hand doing? Just being friendly?” Her voice rose sharply, clearly rattled. “Daniel, don’t push your luck! We’re not even married. Who I spend time with is none of your business!” “Funny,” I said, my voice low and cutting. “I thought we were building a life together. Guess I was wrong.” At this point, Jacob decided to insert himself into the conversation, stepping forward like some kind of knight in shining armor. “Daniel,” he said, puffing out his chest, “are you seriously questioning Chloe’s character right now? As her boyfriend, shouldn’t you trust her?” Looking at the two of them, smiling and backing each other up, I felt a wave of nausea rise in my chest. I clenched my jaw and said coldly, “Oh, so you do remember she’s my girlfriend, huh?” Chloe tilted her head, her expression smug. “If you’re so unhappy with me, then it’s perfect timing. I have an announcement to make.” She paused for dramatic effect, her voice dripping with mockery. “Starting today, Jacob will be taking over your responsibilities.” The room fell silent. Everyone’s eyes darted between us, waiting to see my reaction. “And you?” she continued, her tone casual but cruel. “You’ll handle the small accounts from now on. Unless, of course, you feel that’s beneath you. If so, the janitorial team could always use an extra hand.” I stared at her, my expression unreadable. The audacity of this woman. She had no idea how much I’d sacrificed to build her company. Every major client, every deal, every connection—I’d earned them through endless nights of drinking, networking, and suffering through grueling hangovers. I’d worked myself to the brink of collapse just to make this business successful. And now, she thought she could replace me with this clown? Did she really think any of those clients cared about her? Chloe raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying herself. “What, nothing to say? Feeling a little betrayed, maybe?” I watched as Jacob leaned down, planting smug little kisses on Chloe’s lips in front of the entire room. The other employees whispered among themselves, eager to see how I would react. Chloe probably thought I’d beg her to reconsider, that I’d grovel for my job and her affection. She thought she’d won. But what she didn’t realize was that without me, Hill Group would collapse like a house of cards. I shook my head and let out a dry laugh. If they wanted to play dirty, I’d show them how the game was really played. Reaching into my pocket, I felt the engagement ring box I’d been carrying for weeks. With a bitter smile, I tightened my grip on it and turned on my heel, walking away without a word. As I left, Chloe called out after me, her voice dripping with mockery. “What, leaving already? Don’t you want to talk about your new role?” I didn’t even look back. The moment I got into my car, I floored the gas pedal and headed straight to the office. There was no time to waste. Sitting at my desk, I opened my laptop and began contacting our clients. My fingers trembled with rage as I typed, my mind racing with plans to dismantle everything Chloe thought she had under control. I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down, gulping down a bitter cup of coffee. Five years. Five years of loyalty, sacrifice, and love—and for what? At least now I knew the truth.

I spent the night at the office. Yesterday had been a whirlwind—I closed several major deals and contacted a long list of clients. By the time I was done, it was already past midnight. I stopped by my apartment to pack a few things before heading back to the office. That place wasn’t home anymore, and sleeping at my desk felt like the better option. “Daniel!” I was jolted awake by someone shaking me roughly. Groggy, I opened my eyes to find Chloe’s perfectly made-up face staring down at me. Her makeup was flawless, but the hickey on her neck was impossible to miss, even under the thick layer of concealer she’d used to try and hide it. Her movements were so aggressive that a few early-arriving coworkers were already sneaking glances in our direction. She slammed a crumpled piece of paper onto my desk, her face twisted with anger, though she forced a saccharine smile a second later. “Daniel, what is this?” she asked, her voice unnervingly sweet. “You moved out in the middle of the night? And now you’re handing me a resignation letter without even saying a word? What’s going on with you?” I glanced at the wrinkled resignation letter on the desk and let out a bitter laugh. “You’re asking me? Weren’t you the one who told me to leave?” Her expression wavered for a moment, but she quickly plastered on a fake look of concern. “I was just upset yesterday,” she said, softening her tone. “You shouldn’t have accused me of being inappropriate with someone else. Let’s talk about this calmly, okay?” She reached out to touch my face, the same tender gesture that used to melt my heart. But now, it only made my stomach churn. I turned my head away, dodging her hand. “Chloe, you can drop the act,” I said coldly. “After the little show you put on last night, don’t bother pretending to be innocent.” I shoved her hand aside. “We’re done.” Her face turned bright red, anger and humiliation flashing across her expression. “What nonsense are you spewing?” she hissed. Just then, the elevator doors opened. Jacob strolled out, followed by a few clients. Ah, so that’s why Chloe was suddenly putting on this performance. She wasn’t here to patch things up—she was here to squeeze every last bit of value out of me before I walked out the door for good. “Well, speak of the devil,” I said with a cold laugh, eyeing Jacob. “Chloe was just telling me how disappointed she is with your… performance.” The room fell into a heavy silence. Coworkers whispered among themselves, while the clients behind Jacob raised their eyebrows in interest. Jacob’s face turned crimson, but he forced a smile, trying to maintain his composure. “Mr. Brooks, please don’t joke like that… Ms. Hill and I have nothing but a professional relationship.” He was dressed to impress, wearing a tailored suit and enough hair gel to make his head shine under the fluorescent lights. He looked like he belonged in a cheap cologne ad, not in a boardroom. “Professional?” I smirked. “Didn’t sound so professional last night when you were bragging about your relationship at the party.” The office erupted into murmurs. “Everyone shut up!” Chloe snapped, her voice cutting through the chaos. She turned back to me, her face livid. “Daniel, I came here to talk things through, and you’re making a scene! I’m trying to be reasonable, but you’re being impossible!” “Reasonable?” I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “Did you forget the things you said while you were draped all over Jacob last night? Should I remind you?” Jacob’s face went pale as he motioned for his assistant to guide the clients into a nearby conference room. “Daniel, Chloe is still your girlfriend,” Jacob said, his tone stiff. “You shouldn’t humiliate her like this.” Looking at the two of them standing side by side, their united front only made me feel colder inside. Chloe’s face twisted with rage as she pointed a finger at me. “You ungrateful bastard! I’m trying to help you, and this is how you repay me? Do you even have a shred of decency left?” Her voice was shrill, her eyes filled with nothing but disgust. The warmth she used to fake so well was completely gone. I let out a humorless laugh. “Careful, Jacob,” I said, locking eyes with him. “The same woman who’s throwing me aside today will do the same to you tomorrow. You’re just a placeholder, a temporary distraction.” “Daniel, you’re asking for it!” Chloe shrieked, her voice echoing through the office. She raised her hand to slap me, but I dodged in time. Her nails caught the side of my face, leaving a few shallow scratches. The sting was sharp, but I didn’t flinch. Missing her target only made her angrier. She lunged at me again, completely abandoning the polished image she’d always tried to maintain in front of others. Jacob quickly grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her to stop her from clawing at me again. “Chloe, calm down. Don’t let him get under your skin.” I brushed off my suit and stood, smirking at the two of them. “If I’m worthless, what does that make the two of you?” “Get out, Daniel!” Chloe screamed, her voice cracking. “You’re nothing but a parasite! Do you hear me? I’ll ruin you! I’ll make sure you never work again!” I adjusted my tie and straightened my jacket, taking my time before replying. “Chloe,” I said, my voice calm but cutting, “you really think your little company would’ve made it this far without me? Without the clients I brought in?” Her face turned an even deeper shade of red, her whole body trembling with rage. “You think I need you?” she spat. “Take a few clients if you want—I don’t care. Hill Group will be fine without you!” “Is that so?” I said with a cold smile. “We’ll see about that.” “You touch even one of my clients, and I’ll make sure you regret it!” I laughed, shaking my head. Chloe really thought she was untouchable. I turned and walked toward the elevator, ignoring her shrill screams behind me. “You’ll come crawling back, Daniel! You’ll beg me to take you back!” Without looking back, I raised a middle finger as the elevator doors slid shut. The sunlight outside was blinding, but I didn’t mind. Pulling out my phone, I scrolled to a familiar name in my contacts. It was time to call Mila Morgan. If Chloe wanted a war, I was more than ready to give her one.

At the coffee shop, Mila sat across from me, her every movement polished and deliberate. She held her coffee cup with the kind of grace that made it seem like an accessory, not a necessity. Her sharp, assessing gaze flicked to me every so often, as though she were measuring my worth. She’d been trying to recruit me for years. But I’d always turned her down—because of Chloe. “It’s a rare treat to finally get you here,” Mila said with a soft laugh, her tone carrying a hint of playfulness. “I thought you’d spend the rest of your life burning yourself out for Chloe.” I stirred the coffee in front of me, watching the ripples swirl as I answered flatly, “She kicked me out. The details are messy, and frankly, I don’t want to waste my energy explaining. Ask around—you’ll figure it out soon enough.” Mila’s company wasn’t just big—it was the biggest player in the industry locally. Everyone knew her family had money and connections, and if she wanted something, she usually got it. The fact that she’d reached out to me for this meeting was already making waves in our professional circles. “So,” she said casually, setting her cup down, “I take it you’re bringing Chloe’s clients with you in this… transition?” I smirked. “You’re sharp, Ms. Morgan. Yes, I’ve got over 80% of her major accounts in my pocket.” Mila chuckled at that, leaning back in her chair as though savoring my words. “Well, I imagine Chloe’s losing her mind right about now.” “She’s about a month away from crawling back to me,” I said with quiet confidence, lifting my coffee cup. “But by then, it’ll be too late. I’m not just taking her clients—I’m going to make sure she’s finished in this industry.” Mila’s eyes gleamed with interest at my boldness, a flicker of admiration crossing her expression. She rested her chin in her hand, studying me with a newfound curiosity. “You’re more decisive than I expected.” “I’ll make it worth your while,” she said, extending her hand with a polished smile. “I’ll give you a general manager position and triple your current salary. I like your style.” I shook her hand briefly but didn’t let her finish. “There’s one more thing I need from you.” Her perfectly shaped brow arched slightly. “Oh?” “When the time comes,” I said firmly, “I want you to help me expose Chloe and Jacob’s little ‘arrangement.’ Once the scandal hits, you can swoop in and buy her company for pennies on the dollar.” Mila’s lips curved into a slow smile. The idea clearly appealed to her. “Interesting,” she murmured, tapping a manicured finger against her chin. “You’re giving me a perfect opportunity to crush a competitor. But…” Her gaze turned thoughtful, almost mischievous. “How do you know I won’t do the same to you someday?” I met her eyes directly, my tone steady and unflinching. “Because I trust you.” The sunlight streaming through the window caught the angles of her face, highlighting her sharp features and the faintly satisfied look in her eyes. “Fair enough,” she said after a pause, raising her coffee cup toward me. “To a fruitful partnership.” I clinked my cup against hers, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. If Chloe only knew what her betrayal had set in motion, I wondered if she’d still be lying in Jacob’s bed right now—or if she’d already be regretting every choice she’d made.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295260”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #校园School

By the third year of the government’s “Back-to-the-Land” program, Chloe Hill finally received her transfer papers to return to the city. One for her, and one for her fiancé. Her parents were overjoyed, already making plans for their wedding as soon as she returned home. What they didn’t know, however, was that Austin Ford—the man who had given up a secure government job to follow her to this remote rural town—no longer looked at her the way he used to. Once, she had been his entire world. But not anymore. The moment Chloe walked in and saw him tangled in bed with another woman, her heart shattered. That night, she made up her mind. She packed her bags and left without a word, boarding the first train back to the city. Months later, Jason Wells, a coworker and friend from the city, offered to drive her home after a long day. When they pulled up to her parents’ house, Jason noticed a man standing under the tree out front, his shoulders slouched, his face pale in the soft glow of the porch light. “He’s been waiting for hours,” Jason said, curious. “Do you know him?” Chloe glanced out the window, her gaze brushing over Austin’s tired figure before quickly looking away. “Just a neighbor,” she said flatly. Her tone was calm, emotionless. And with that, she walked into the house without a second glance.

“Chloe, the paperwork’s been sent in! You and Austin can finally come back to the city. It’s been three years since you left, and your dad and I miss you so much. Once you’re home, we’ll start planning your wedding!” Zoey’s voice brimmed with excitement and hope, but Chloe felt a suffocating weight settle in her chest. She didn’t know how to explain it to her mother—how to tell her that she and Austin weren’t the same anymore. Austin, the man who had once given up a secure job at Lumina to follow her to this remote rural town, no longer had room for Chloe in his heart.The thought of Natalie brought a shadow over Chloe’s face. Her breath hitched as bitterness crept in. Perhaps Zoey sensed her hesitation, as the silence on the phone stretched on too long. “Chloe…” Zoey’s tone softened, hesitant. “Your dad hasn’t been doing well. He’s been in the hospital for months now, but I didn’t want to worry you. He just wants to see you again…” Chloe’s grip on the receiver tightened, her heart sinking. “What’s wrong with Dad?” Zoey’s voice dropped, her words heavy. “The same old kidney issues. He’s stable, but…” She trailed off, her worry evident. “Look, there’s a train from Emberwood to Lumina next week. I’ve already bought you a ticket. You need to come home, Chloe.” She paused, her voice growing firm. “You have to come back.” The unease in Chloe’s heart grew. For the moment, she pushed aside the tangled mess of her relationship with Austin and nodded quickly, even though Zoey couldn’t see. “I’ll be there next week. I promise.” When the call ended, Chloe sat in a daze. The suddenness of it all had thrown her off balance. But maybe, just maybe, this was the opportunity she needed to finally resolve everything she’d been avoiding for so long. Her gaze fell on the framed photo on her bedside table. Her throat tightened as a wave of bitterness washed over her. Who would’ve thought that just three months ago, she and Austin had been planning their wedding? At the time, there hadn’t even been rumors of the transfers back to the city. She and Austin had spent three years in Emberwood and had all but given up on returning. They’d decided to settle down in this small town and build their lives here. The wedding preparations were modest. They’d applied for a small, run-down government apartment at the edge of the town—a cramped, twenty-square-foot unit with a shared kitchen in the hallway. When they moved in, Austin had held her hand, his usually stoic expression betraying a rare glimmer of emotion. His eyes were slightly red as he whispered, “I’m sorry it’s not much.” Chloe had smiled then, her heart full of love. She didn’t feel the slightest bit wronged. Back then, all she needed was him—and the bright future they would build together. She had even written a letter to her parents, eager to share the good news. But before she could send it, everything fell apart. That day, she had just finished putting up the red paper decorations for the wedding when Austin walked through the door—with another woman. “This is Natalie,” he said, his tone casual. “She’s new to our team, just moved here from the city like us.” Natalie was young, barely out of her teens, with wide, curious eyes that sparkled as she took in the room. “She’s not used to the group dorms,” Austin continued. “I thought it’d be better for her to stay here for a while.” Chloe froze. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” Austin added, glancing at Natalie with a faint smile. “You two can share the bedroom. She’s a city girl, just as delicate as you were back then.” His words stung, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why. Chloe said nothing, quietly giving up half the bedroom to Natalie. She couldn’t argue—Austin had always been kindhearted, the type to help anyone in need. But that night, as Natalie chattered on about Austin, asking Chloe question after question, a seed of doubt took root. Chloe wasn’t blind. She could see the way Natalie looked at Austin, the spark of admiration in her eyes. To push away the unease, Chloe told Natalie their story. She and Austin had grown up together, childhood sweethearts in a close-knit neighborhood. Their parents had been best friends, and Mrs. Ford had often joked about Chloe becoming her daughter-in-law. When Chloe’s father passed away, Austin had been offered a secure factory job at Lumina—something any man in their town would dream of. But when Chloe was assigned to the rural relocation program, Austin gave it all up without hesitation to follow her to Emberwood. “Three years,” Chloe had said, her voice soft. “That’s how long we’ve been here together. We’ve been through so much, but we’ve made it work.” Natalie had listened intently, her eyes sparkling. “Austin’s amazing,” she’d said at last, her voice full of admiration. “You’re so lucky, Chloe. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.” Chloe had smiled, relieved by the blessing. For a moment, the knot in her stomach loosened. But it didn’t last. In the days that followed, Chloe began to notice the growing closeness between Austin and Natalie. It was subtle at first—shared smiles, lingering conversations—but it soon became impossible to ignore.

Chloe stared at the framed photo in her hand and let out a quiet sigh. The two transfer papers sitting on the table—the ones that would finally allow them to leave this rural town and return to the city—felt heavier than they should. She wondered if Austin would even want to go back with her. If he said yes, if he was willing to leave this place and return home with her, then maybe she could forget everything that had happened. Forget Natalie, forget the doubts, and pretend none of it had ever existed. Maybe, without Natalie around, all those inappropriate feelings of his would fade away. But then she thought of her mother, Zoey, and the worried tone in her voice when she mentioned her father’s illness. A flicker of worry crossed Chloe’s face, quickly replaced by resolve. If Austin didn’t want to go back, then it was time to end this. She would cut him out of her heart, once and for all. From that moment forward, they’d go their separate ways. Just as she was trying to think of how to bring it up, the sound of footsteps came from the door. Chloe looked up and saw Austin walking in—with Natalie right beside him. The two were walking close, their heads tilted toward each other as they laughed about something, their shoulders almost touching. Chloe’s gaze dropped to what they were carrying. Her expression darkened as she stood up abruptly. “Austin,” she said coldly, her voice sharp. “Why did you take my dad’s camera?” The laughter between the two immediately stopped. Austin and Natalie both froze, finally noticing Chloe standing in the room. Natalie fidgeted nervously, tugging at the hem of her jacket. She was quick to explain, her voice soft and pitiful. “It’s my fault. I just bought some new clothes and wanted Austin to take a few pictures for me.” She held out the camera with both hands, her eyes wide and apologetic. “I was going to ask you first, Chloe, but Austin said you wouldn’t mind and that it was okay if I used it.” Chloe’s jaw tightened. Here we go again. Another one of Natalie’s sweet, innocent excuses that somehow always painted Chloe as the unreasonable one. This wasn’t the first time. Over the past three months, Chloe had seen this play out far too often—a small favor, a little misunderstanding, and Austin stepping in to defend Natalie no matter what. Her patience, already worn thin, snapped. She held out her hand, her tone icy. “Next time, don’t touch my things.” At her words, Austin’s expression darkened. His sharp features set into a frown, his brows furrowed in displeasure. “Chloe, what’s with that attitude?” he said, his voice low and laced with irritation. “Natalie’s new here. She’s still adjusting to life out in the middle of nowhere. I just wanted to cheer her up with a few photos—what’s the big deal?” His tone was full of reproach, as if Chloe were the one in the wrong. Chloe’s face hardened. It felt like a heavy weight had settled in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Without another word, she stepped forward and snatched the camera out of his hand. Her eyes locked onto his, her voice cutting. “I said, don’t touch my things. That goes for you too, Austin.” Austin blinked, visibly startled. For a moment, he stared at her, confusion flickering across his face. “Chloe?” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. Since when had there ever been a ”yours” and ”mine” between them? They had grown up together, shared everything. She had always been his and he had always been hers. But before he could say anything more, Chloe’s expression shifted. Her face paled as her fingers rapidly scrolled through the photos on the camera. “Where are they?” she whispered, her voice trembling. Natalie tilted her head, her tone light and innocent. “Where is what?” Chloe’s fingers moved faster, her panic mounting with every moment. The photos she had taken of her parents—her father’s smile, her mother’s warm embrace—were gone. In their place were dozens of pictures of Natalie, posing in her new clothes, beaming in every shot. Chloe’s grip on the camera tightened as she turned to Natalie, her hands shaking with fury. “The old photos,” she demanded. “The ones I took of my parents. Where are they?” Natalie blinked, feigning confusion, before her lips parted in mock surprise. “Oh, those? The memory card was full, so I deleted them to make space. I didn’t know they were important…” Her voice trailed off, her tone laced with false regret. But behind her wide, apologetic eyes, Chloe caught a flicker of something else—a flash of smug satisfaction. “Enough!” Austin snapped, stepping between them. He placed himself protectively in front of Natalie, his voice low and firm. “She didn’t mean to, Chloe. It was an accident. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You’re scaring her!” Scaring her? Chloe’s hands trembled as anger and heartbreak surged through her. She stared at Austin, the man who had once been her whole world, now standing in front of another woman, shielding her. He knew what those photos meant to her. He knew how much she had clung to them during the hardest times of her life. When she had left home in a hurry, her parents had bought the camera just to take a few family pictures before she left. Her father had placed it in her hands before she boarded the train. “Whenever you miss us,” he had said, his voice thick with emotion, “just look at these.” Those photos had been her anchor during her years in Emberwood, a reminder of the family waiting for her back home. And now, they were gone. Chloe looked at Austin, her eyes brimming with tears. His expression was cold, his body language defensive—as if she were the intruder in her own life. “An accident,” he had said. The disappointment hit her like a tidal wave, drowning out every lingering hope she had held onto. Her voice trembled as she spoke, each word heavy with pain. “This man,” she thought bitterly, “isn’t worth saving.”

At some point, Chloe realized her face was wet. Tears had blurred her vision, streaming down unchecked. Austin froze for a moment, stunned. This was the first time he had seen Chloe look so utterly heartbroken, so defeated. For a brief second, something squeezed at his chest, and his voice softened instinctively. “I’ll take the camera to the photo shop later,” he said hesitantly, loosening the arm that had been wrapped protectively around Natalie’s shoulders. “Maybe they can recover the pictures.” He reached out toward Chloe, as if to steady her. “This was my mistake. I should’ve told Natalie those photos were important to you,” he added. Chloe wanted to laugh—wanted to scoff. A mistake? Forgetting to explain? That was the excuse he was going with? Natalie knew. She knew. Chloe had caught her watching once, when she sat on her bed holding her father’s old camera, flipping through the pictures of her parents. She had even told Natalie the story—about the family portraits taken just before she left, and how much they meant to her. This wasn’t a mistake. Natalie had done it on purpose. And now, nestled against Austin, Natalie’s expression radiated smug satisfaction. Her eyes practically sparkled with triumph as if to say: Go on, tell him the truth. Let’s see who he believes. The answer was painfully obvious. Chloe forced her eyes shut, forcing the bitterness down. When she opened them again, her voice was calm, emotionless. “Austin, I need to talk to you. Alone.” Her tone betrayed none of the anger or hurt from moments before, as if she had already locked those feelings away. Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind her. Austin frowned, tugging his sleeve free from Natalie’s grip. He hesitated for a moment before following her. Behind him, Natalie’s wide-eyed, innocent expression melted into a sly smirk. She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe with a quiet, derisive snort. Austin’s heart was already hers. What did she have to fear from a washed-up, tear-streaked woman like Chloe? The room was silent, heavy with unspoken words. Chloe was the first to break it. “My mom called today,” she said quietly. “She managed to pull some strings and get two transfer papers for the city.” Austin froze, his breath catching. For a moment, his face lit up with a mixture of disbelief and joy. “Two papers?” he repeated. “After three years… we’re finally going back?” He let out a breath of relief, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing. “I can’t believe it. We finally have a chance.” Chloe watched him, her chest tightening as memories of their time together flooded her mind. The struggles, the compromises, the dreams they had built together in this place. For a brief moment, she felt the sting of nostalgia, but it was quickly replaced by the cold reality of the present. “My mom hoped we’d go back together,” she continued, her voice steady. “She was already talking about planning our wedding in Lumina.” Austin’s smile faltered. Something about her tone—calm, detached—made him uneasy. “But I’ve been thinking,” Chloe said, looking him straight in the eye. “There’s no point anymore.” The smile vanished completely. His brows furrowed, and his expression grew tense. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded, his voice low. “I’ve already told you, I only see Natalie as a little sister.” Chloe let out a sharp laugh, one that was more bitter than amused. “A sister?” she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve heard that excuse so many times over the past three months, Austin. I could recite it in my sleep.” She shook her head, her tone cutting. “You’re not related. She’s not your sister. She’s just an excuse.” Austin opened his mouth to argue, but Chloe didn’t give him the chance. “When you followed me here three years ago, you gave up everything,” she said, her words deliberate. “This transfer paper… consider it repayment for everything you’ve done for me. I won’t use it to force you into anything. I won’t hold it over your head or guilt you into marrying me.” Her gaze hardened, though her voice remained calm. “Your heart isn’t with me anymore, Austin. Let’s end this here. Let’s make a clean break.” Austin’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening. “Chloe, stop it,” he snapped, his voice rising. “You’re overthinking everything again. The wedding is at the end of the month, just like we planned. Once we’re married, all this nonsense will stop.” With that, he turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Chloe stood there, staring at the closed door. She let out a long, shaky breath, her lips curling into a bitter smile. She didn’t even have the energy to argue anymore. Austin always thought marriage was the solution to every problem, as if tying the knot would magically make everything right. But Chloe refused to marry a man whose heart didn’t fully belong to her. No matter what, this wedding wasn’t going to happen. She was going to leave. She did some quick calculations in her head. The wedding was in eight days. Conveniently, the train to Lumina was scheduled to leave in exactly seven. Thank God she hadn’t told Austin about the train. If he knew, who knows what he might do to stop her? Chloe closed her eyes briefly. The plan was simple. She’d leave the day before the wedding. This chapter of her life, this place, this relationship—it would finally come to an end. Outside the room, someone had overheard every word. Natalie stood behind the wooden post, her heart racing in her chest. Two transfer papers. Her family had pulled every string they could and had barely managed to secure one—and even that had gone to her useless younger brother. If she could get her hands on one of those papers… Natalie’s mind raced. She’d grown up in the city, where life was tough but bearable. They weren’t rich, but at least they had food on the table and a solid roof over their heads. But here? In this godforsaken backwater town? She was sick of the cramped dorms, the bland food, the endless tedium. She couldn’t stand another day of it. At least Austin had made things bearable. He treated her well, made her feel comfortable. But what about the future? If he really married Chloe, where would that leave her? Natalie clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Austin wasn’t just any man. He was good-looking, well-educated, and came from a decent family. Back in Lumina, men like him were hard to come by—even for someone like her, who had grown up in the city. Her gaze darkened as she thought about the transfer papers Chloe had mentioned. She wanted both. The city and the man.

After that fight, Chloe and Austin fell into an icy silence, barely speaking to one another. But despite the tension, Austin still seemed determined to go through with the wedding. Every day, he brought home something new for the ceremony—a pair of wedding candles, a set of red satin decorations, or a box of invitations. Chloe, however, remained indifferent. She didn’t care about any of it. Her time was spent tying up loose ends at the coffee farm, making sure everything was in order before she left. Since she had made up her mind to leave, she wasn’t about to leave behind a mess for someone else to deal with. What Chloe didn’t expect was for trouble to find her so soon. One afternoon, Austin showed up at the coffee farm with Natalie in tow. Chloe barely had time to process what was happening. Natalie’s clothes were rumpled, her hair disheveled, and her eyes red and swollen from crying. She clung to Austin like a helpless child, burying herself in his chest. Chloe frowned instinctively. “What’s going on?” Before she could get another word out, the sound of a slap rang through the air. “Smack!” The force of the blow turned her head to the side, and she tasted the metallic tang of blood on her lip. “Chloe, how could you do something so disgusting?” Austin’s voice was cold as he jabbed a finger in her face. His eyes burned with anger, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I can’t believe I ever trusted you. You’re so blinded by jealousy that you’d stoop this low—sending Natalie to collect from those thugs? If I hadn’t gotten there in time, who knows what might’ve happened to her!” His words hit harder than the slap itself. Chloe slowly turned her head back to face him, her cheek stinging, but her expression was eerily calm. “You think I did this?” she asked, her voice cold and steady. “Don’t accuse me without proof, Austin.” Austin’s anger didn’t waver. He glared at her like she was a stranger, someone he no longer recognized. “Proof? What else do you want? Natalie wouldn’t make something like this up!” Natalie, still crying, tugged gently on Austin’s arm as if to calm him down. Her voice trembled as she spoke, each word carefully chosen. “This… this is all my fault,” she sobbed, her tone pitiful. “I shouldn’t have gotten so close to Austin. I ruined your relationship, Chloe. I’m sorry. Please, just let me go. I’ll leave, okay? Just don’t hate me anymore…” Her words were like gasoline on a fire. The onlookers, who had gathered to watch the drama unfold, began murmuring among themselves. “I can’t believe Chloe would do something like that.” “Natalie’s a little naive, sure, but she doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment.” “See? This is why they say jealousy makes women cruel.” Natalie’s lips curled ever so slightly into a satisfied smirk as she clung tighter to Austin. Her eyes met Chloe’s for a brief moment, full of mockery and triumph. Chloe’s expression hardened. Without warning, she stepped forward and yanked Natalie out of Austin’s arms, nearly sending her sprawling to the ground. Natalie let out a startled yelp, but Chloe didn’t flinch. Years of hard work on the coffee farm had toughened her up. She wasn’t the delicate, pampered girl she used to be, and dealing with someone like Natalie was hardly a challenge. “Chloe!” Austin shouted, rushing forward. But the sharp look Chloe shot him stopped him in his tracks. “You think I did this to her?” Chloe said, her voice sharp and cutting. “Fine. Let’s get to the bottom of it.” This was the first time Austin had seen this side of her—cold, resolute, and filled with a quiet fury that bordered on hatred. Chloe turned to Natalie, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “You said I sent you to collect money from those men. When? Where? Show me the proof. Bring out a witness—anyone who can back up your story.” The crowd went silent. In a small town like this, people knew Chloe was the one who handled the coffee farm’s finances. When it came to collecting debts, she was careful. Knowing some debtors could be dangerous, she always sent two strong men to handle it. She never sent anyone like Natalie. The murmurs began again, but this time, they were different. People glanced at Natalie with suspicion, their whispers growing louder. Natalie’s face paled, panic flickering in her eyes. If Chloe proved she was lying, it would ruin her. She’d already made enough enemies in this town with her entitled attitude and lazy work ethic. The only reason anyone tolerated her was because of Chloe and Austin. If the truth came out, her life here would become unbearable. Desperate, Natalie turned to Austin, her eyes wide and pleading. “Austin!” she cried, clinging to his arm. “You were there! You heard her tell me to go! You have to back me up!” Austin froze, his face conflicted. He looked down at Natalie, who was trembling and crying at his feet. Her words echoed in his mind, her desperation tugging at his heart. “Austin, please,” she whispered. “If you don’t help me, I’ll have nothing left. People will think I lied. How am I supposed to live with that?” Chloe stood a few feet away, her eyes locked on his. Her gaze was cold, filled with quiet defiance. She wasn’t begging him to take her side. She wasn’t pleading for his trust. She just stared at him, waiting to see what he would do. The room felt suffocatingly quiet as the weight of the moment pressed down on him. Finally, Austin looked away from Chloe’s unyielding gaze. He knelt down and gently helped Natalie to her feet. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I heard her. Chloe told you to do it.” The words left his mouth like a death sentence. The crowd gasped in unison. This was Austin—Chloe’s childhood sweetheart, the man who had followed her to this small town and stood by her side for years. If he was saying it, how could it not be true? The murmurs turned into outright condemnation. “So it’s true. Chloe really did send her.” “Unbelievable. No wonder even her fiancé is siding with Natalie.” “What kind of person does that?”

After Austin sided with Natalie and lied to protect her, Chloe stood frozen in place like a lifeless statue. She stared at Austin, her expression caught somewhere between a smile and tears, twisted with disbelief. She had thought that perhaps Austin had simply fallen out of love with her, that his heart had shifted toward someone else. That, she could have accepted, painful as it might have been. But this? Watching him abandon his principles, watching him lie and tarnish her name for Natalie’s sake—this was something she hadn’t anticipated. In that moment, Chloe’s heart turned cold. She had once hoped that even if they couldn’t be together as husband and wife, they could at least part as friends, cherishing the memories they had shared. But now, it was clear that to Austin, her love and loyalty were worth nothing. As Natalie clung to Austin’s arm, her smirk practically dripping with triumph, Chloe felt no anger, no bitterness. Everything she had once felt for these two people vanished the moment Austin spoke those damning words against her. Chloe’s gaze landed on Natalie, calm and detached. If you want him so badly, take him. I don’t keep trash. The murmurs of the coffee farm workers surrounded her, full of judgment and scorn. Without hesitation, Chloe unpinned her supervisor badge, handed it to the next manager in line, and turned to leave. Her decisiveness caught everyone off guard, including Austin. “Chloe!” he called after her, his voice desperate. But Chloe didn’t look back. A man like that was no longer worth her time. When she returned home, Chloe began packing up her belongings. This little house had been her pride and joy, a place she had poured her energy and love into, brick by brick. She thought about the icy winters she had endured, pasting the windows shut with homemade glue to keep out the cold drafts. She thought of the time she patched the roof with scavenged tiles, balancing precariously on a borrowed ladder. Every corner of this house was a reflection of her effort and hope for the future she and Austin were supposed to share. But now, the small vanity she had saved up for was cluttered with Natalie’s belongings. The sweater she had spent weeks knitting for Austin had been ruined by Natalie, who had offered a half-hearted apology about accidentally “washing it wrong.” There were too many little moments like this, each one a tiny dagger to Chloe’s heart. And every time she had tried to bring it up, Austin had dismissed her, calling her petty and jealous. It was as if, the moment Natalie showed up, every sacrifice Chloe had made for this home became invisible to him. She glanced around the room. The red wedding decorations she had once hung with such hope and joy now felt like cruel mockery. Chloe grabbed a bucket and headed outside to the well. When Austin came home that evening, the first thing he saw was a pile of red paper strewn across the muddy ground. The wedding decorations had been ripped down, their bright colors dulled by dirt and water. Natalie wasn’t with him for some reason, but he didn’t seem to care. Standing in the small yard, he let out a frustrated sigh. “Do you always have to make such a big deal out of everything?” he said, his tone sharp. “She’s just a young girl. Can’t you show a little grace?” Chloe didn’t even flinch. She had heard this lecture too many times before. The first time he had said those words, they had stung so badly she had to fight back tears. But she had learned quickly that crying only made things worse—especially when Natalie was around to see it. Instead, she had started sneaking off to the woods near the coffee farm, letting herself cry where no one could see. That had been her first clue that this house, this so-called “home,” was no longer hers. A place that couldn’t offer you comfort wasn’t a home—it was just a building. Now, his words barely registered. She continued tearing down the decorations, her expression blank. Seeing her indifference, Austin finally snapped. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her mid-motion. “Have you had enough?” he said coldly, his grip tightening. Chloe met his gaze, her voice calm but cutting. “If you don’t want me to tear them down, fine. Save them for when you marry Natalie. No point letting them go to waste.” Austin’s jaw tightened, his irritation clear. “I’ve told you a thousand times,” he said through gritted teeth. “The only person I’m marrying is you. No one else.” Chloe pulled her wrist free, her eyes full of disdain. “Marrying you is supposed to be some kind of honor?” she shot back. “Don’t flatter yourself, Austin. You think I’d be grateful for that? You’re delusional.” She dropped the bucket she was holding, the water splashing onto Austin’s shoes and pants, and turned to head back inside. Before she could make it to the door, Austin’s voice stopped her. “Apologize to Natalie,” he said firmly. Chloe froze, her hand on the doorframe. “She’s younger than you, and she didn’t know any better. Just apologize in front of everyone, and this whole thing will blow over.” Chloe turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as she walked toward him. Without warning, she slapped him hard across the face. “Austin,” she said, her voice trembling with fury, “you are the most disgusting, spineless man I have ever met.” Austin’s face darkened, his eyes stormy as he clenched his fists. “I’m just trying to fix this,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “If you don’t clear your name, how do you expect your application to move forward? You think the city will let someone with a reputation like yours back in?” Chloe’s blood ran cold. “My application?” she said softly. “You didn’t think about my application when you helped Natalie accuse me. You didn’t care what would happen to me then.” Austin’s expression flickered with guilt for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Just do what I’m saying,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Once the application goes through, we can leave this place behind. We’ll go back to Lumina and start fresh. No more Natalie. Just us.” Chloe stared at him, the words she had once longed to hear finally spoken aloud. But it was too late. She felt nothing but exhaustion and disgust. “No,” she said firmly, her voice steady. “We’re done here.”

Even though Chloe felt disgusted by Austin’s demand for her to apologize, she couldn’t deny that the issue weighed heavily on her mind. If her application to return to the city wasn’t approved, all her efforts would be for nothing. After much deliberation, she decided to seek out Emily, the deputy mayor of Emberwood. Emily, a woman in her forties with a reputation for fairness, had always been someone Chloe could trust. When Chloe poured her heart out, Emily didn’t need much explanation to piece together what had happened. She listened quietly, her expression growing heavier with each word. Finally, Emily shook her head, her tone both sympathetic and firm. “I warned you, Chloe. It’s fine to help others when you can, but bringing someone like that into your home? That’s a whole different story.” With a long sigh, Emily’s gaze softened. “Poor girl. You’ve been through so much.” Chloe had held back her tears when Natalie accused her. She had refused to cry when Austin betrayed her. But now, hearing those simple words of understanding, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She broke down in Emily’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Emily patted her back gently and waited until Chloe had calmed down before bringing her a basin of warm water to wash her face. “About Natalie,” Emily said with a sigh, “I can’t undo the damage, and I can’t clear your name. But let’s be honest—the real problem here isn’t you. It’s those men she was sent to deal with. At worst, you could be blamed for poor management, but that’s hardly a crime.” She paused, tapping her fingers thoughtfully. “If only your Austin had been honest…” Emily trailed off, her lips tightening. Clearly, she was thinking about not just Austin’s lies but his audacity in asking Chloe to apologize to Natalie. “Never mind,” Emily said with a decisive nod. “I’ll speak to the mayor myself. We’ve all seen the kind of person you’ve been these past three years, Chloe. Trust me—I’ll vouch for you. You’ll get your approval to return home.” Emily’s confidence brought tears to Chloe’s eyes again, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. After thanking Emily profusely, Chloe returned home and began packing her belongings. She had already submitted her application and was now just waiting for the signed approval to leave Emberwood. As she packed, her thoughts drifted to her parents. She hadn’t seen them in years, and the thought of finally going home brought a bittersweet ache to her chest. But as she sorted through her things, Chloe realized there wasn’t much left of her own. She searched the house high and low, but it seemed most of her clothes had disappeared. They had always lived frugally, stretching every dollar to its limit. Yet just the other day, Natalie had paraded around in a brand-new dress made of expensive fabric shipped in from the city. That single dress had cost more than Austin’s entire month’s salary. Chloe was still stewing over this when the door suddenly creaked open. Austin walked in, holding a bright red wedding dress in his hands. He placed it on the table in front of her. “The custom dress is ready,” he said. “Try it on and see if it fits.” Chloe barely spared it a glance, her expression cold and indifferent. Austin frowned at her lack of reaction but chose not to press the issue. “We’re getting married the day after tomorrow,” he reminded her. “Make sure it fits. If it doesn’t, I’ll get it altered.” Of everything Austin said, Chloe only focused on one part: the day after tomorrow. That meant tomorrow was the day the train would arrive to take her to Lumina. Her escape was closer than she had realized. The next morning, Chloe woke before dawn, packed her bags, and headed straight for the train station. She joined the line of people waiting to board, her suitcase in hand. The approval for her city application was still pending, but it would be mailed directly to Lumina for her to finalize. The process was a bit of a hassle, but at least it meant she could leave Emberwood behind for good. As the line inched forward, an inexplicable sense of unease began to creep over her. By the time she reached the ticket booth, that unease had grown into full-blown panic. She frantically searched through her bag, but no matter how many times she checked, the train ticket she had carefully tucked away the night before was nowhere to be found. The ticket agent gave her an impatient look. “Can I buy another one now?” Chloe asked, her voice trembling. “Sorry, tickets for this train are sold out,” the agent replied curtly. Heart pounding, Chloe grabbed her bag and bolted back toward home. She had to make it back in time to find the ticket. Missing this train wasn’t an option—there wouldn’t be another one for a month. Out of breath, Chloe shoved the door open, only to freeze in her tracks. Standing in the living room was Natalie, wearing her red wedding dress. Natalie flinched at the sight of her, clearly caught off guard. “Chloe, I didn’t mean to—” she stammered, her cheeks flushing. “Austin asked me to try it on. He thought we were about the same size, and he wanted to make sure it fit…” Natalie kept rambling, but Chloe wasn’t listening. She pushed past her and began tearing through the house, searching for her ticket. Austin appeared in the doorway, watching her with a calm, almost detached expression. “You won’t find it,” he said flatly. Chloe froze, her hands trembling. Her entire body felt like it had been submerged in ice. “What… what do you mean?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I ripped it up,” Austin said, his tone matter-of-fact. For a moment, Chloe couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe. Then she turned to face him, her pale face contorted with disbelief. “You’re lying,” she said, her voice hoarse. “You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying!” “I told you,” Austin said firmly, his gaze steady. “We’re getting married. Whatever you need to do, it can wait until after the wedding.” Chloe’s lips quivered as she stared at him, her hands clutching at his arms in desperation. “Austin, give it back,” she begged. “Please, just give it back!” But Austin didn’t respond. Before Chloe could say anything else, the door burst open, and Emily rushed in, her face pale with urgency. “Chloe!” she cried, nearly out of breath. “Why haven’t you left yet? Your family sent a telegram—your father’s gravely ill. They say he doesn’t have much time left!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295259”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #校园School

I started an online relationship with my boss. Meeting up in person? Yeah, that’s never gonna happen. She has no idea that the person she’s been flirting with online is one of her employees… Lately, my boss has been in a terrible mood. Everyone in the office has noticed, and the tension is palpable. Even the usual slackers have been on their best behavior, barely daring to check their phones. She’s been working overtime like a machine, and of course, no one dares to leave before her. So, we’ve all been stuck at the office until 11 or 12 at night. I’ve got dark circles under my eyes, and my skin is starting to break out. But here’s the kicker: I’m probably the only one in the company who knows why she’s so irritable. It’s because my boss just got dumped. And, well… the person who “dumped” her is me. She just doesn’t know it yet. It all started with my two-year online relationship. We met on a forum—she had posted a thread titled, ”Why Can’t I Find a Partner?” Curious, I clicked in. Her post read: ”Female, 5’9”, 99 pounds, 25 years old, Ivy League graduate in Management Science and Engineering. Currently a VP at a Fortune 500 company, earning a seven-figure salary. I own a house, a car, and I’m gorgeous. Still single. What am I doing wrong?” The comments were ruthless. “Obvious bait post. Move along.” “Seriously? A 25-year-old VP? Either it’s daddy’s company or it’s daddy’s company.” “Come on, at least make your lies believable.” Amused, I left a comment: ”Maybe it’s your looks. Why not post a picture?” I didn’t think much of it and logged off. A few hours later, she sent me a private message. “Hi, can I send you the photo privately?” I was confused but intrigued. “Sure,” I replied, figuring this could be entertaining. A moment later, a photo popped up. I nearly spat my coffee all over my desk. 5’9”? Yeah, maybe in her dreams. She looked closer to 5’2”. The photo was a poorly angled mirror selfie. She had her face partially covered, wore thick black-framed glasses, and looked like a walking advertisement for outdated fashion choices. But… her features were undeniably stunning. The lips, the nose, the eyes—they all screamed ”hidden beauty.” She just didn’t know how to present herself. And for some reason, she looked oddly familiar. Thinking, ”Who knew there were gorgeous women out there so oblivious to their own potential?” I decided to help. Out of the goodness of my heart, of course. I zoomed in and out of the photo a few times before typing out a long response: ”You need to work on your style. Change the glasses—go for rimless or contacts. Don’t take photos from that angle; tilt your phone slightly so the charging port faces you. Swap the skirt for something shorter—maybe black. And for the love of God, invest in better lighting.” She replied with a simple, ”Thank you so much!” I didn’t think much of it and moved on. The next day, she sent me an updated “homework submission,” following all my advice. Then she did it again the day after that. And the day after that. By the fifth day, I was starting to get annoyed. That’s when she asked if she could pay me for my “consultation services” and requested my personal messaging info. I thought, ”Why not? Money’s money,” and gave her my private account. A moment later, a familiar profile picture popped up with a friend request. It was my boss. I froze. My finger slipped, and before I could stop myself, I hit “accept.” Panic set in immediately. I switched my settings to “chat only” and prayed she wouldn’t figure out who I was. A message popped up: ”Thank you so much for all your advice. Here’s a small token of my appreciation.” Then she sent me $5,000 with the note, ”Gift—no strings attached.” I stared at the screen in silence. I double-checked her profile picture and the online photos she’d sent me. Yep. No doubt about it. My gorgeous online crush was, in fact, my boss. “Well, damn,” I thought, accepting the money. ”At least she doesn’t know it’s me.” From that point on, I kept helping her improve her style. She caught on fast, and soon, she was radiating confidence. But just as I was preparing to quietly fade out of her life, she threw me a curveball. She confessed her feelings. It started with a long, emotional message—a “love letter,” if you will. I skimmed past all the fluff until I got to the last line: “I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a long time… I like you.” I froze. “Thanks,” I replied after a long pause. “What?” she asked. “I appreciate it!” I typed back. “No, I’m serious. I really like you.” “And I really appreciate it! Thanks!” She was silent for a moment before messaging again: ”Can I at least have a chance to pursue you?” I didn’t reply. That night, I couldn’t sleep. The next morning, she started sending me good morning messages. Then good afternoon messages. Then good night messages. She kept me updated on her day like we were already dating: ”I’m heading to work,” ”I just got to the office,” ”I’m about to start a meeting.” Her persistence was… unique, to say the least. I half-heartedly responded here and there, and somehow, that only encouraged her more. A month later, things took an unexpected turn. I was scrolling through social media, admiring photos of models, when I accidentally shared one with her instead of my buddy. “God, she’s gorgeous. I’d totally lick the screen,” I wrote, followed by, ”Here’s the video.” She replied almost instantly. “???”

By the time I saw the message, it was already too late to unsend it. Sure, appreciating beauty is human nature, but for some reason, I felt a pang of guilt. Then, she suddenly sent a message: “Is this your type?” Attached was a video. It looked freshly recorded at a gym. Not the overly sculpted type of body, but smooth, pale skin with a beautifully defined V-line disappearing just below her workout shorts. As for up top… Let’s just say, it was pink. The person in the video seemed a little shy—by the end of the clip, her face was flushed bright red. I was hooked. “Got more? Send me another!” I replied instantly. She hesitated but eventually sent a few more videos, each one more dazzling than the last. I admit, I was completely seduced by her beauty. Who would’ve thought that my boss, who always carried herself with such restraint and composure, could be… so… well, like this in private? How do I describe it? It was strangely thrilling. Just as I was thoroughly enjoying myself, another message popped up. “If you agree to be my boyfriend, I’ll send you videos like this every day. As many as you want.” People spend their lives chasing four things: money, power, fame, and beauty. The first three don’t mean much to me, but the last one? That’s my kryptonite. “Well… I guess I could consider it,” I replied. After all, it was just an online relationship, right? Of course, I set some ground rules: no public announcements, no changing profile pictures, no video calls, and absolutely no meeting in real life. She wasn’t thrilled about the conditions but eventually agreed. And that’s how it started. We dated online for two years. As she got better at styling herself and presenting her beauty, I was more than happy to reap the benefits. Her photos and videos became increasingly breathtaking, with her pulling off every look I suggested. I thought this arrangement could last forever—until one day, she asked to meet in person. “Didn’t we agree from the start that there’d be no meeting up? This is strictly an online thing,” I reminded her. She sounded hurt. “I know, I’m sorry… but I really want to see you.” I knew exactly why she was pushing this. A couple of days earlier, I’d gone to a college reunion. Afterward, one of my old classmates confessed her feelings for me. I turned her down politely, but she didn’t take it well and started sending me a bunch of gross, cringy messages. Fed up, I screenshotted everything, posted it on my social media, and dragged her through the mud before blocking her. Since I was in a relationship (well, “online”), my boss must’ve seen the post. I figured she wanted to “meet up” to stake her claim publicly. But I had my reasons for not meeting her. There was no way I was going to agree. After dodging her attempts for a week, I finally got fed up and broke up with her. She freaked out. Completely deflated, like a balloon with the air punched out of it. My phone lit up with her calls for the nth time. I sighed, flipped it face-down on the table, and ignored it. That’s when Kenneth, my direct supervisor, called me over. “Mason, take this proposal to Aurora.” Kenneth’s crush on Aurora was the worst-kept secret in the entire office. Normally, he’d jump at any excuse to see her, but lately, she’d been in a terrible mood. The last time he tried comforting her, she snapped at him so hard he practically fled the room. I winced. “Kenneth, isn’t this a bit above my pay grade? Shouldn’t you be the one to—” “Just do it, man. Don’t make me repeat myself.” …Fine. Even though I’d basically seen all of Aurora online, meeting her in person was still nerve-wracking. Especially at work, where she was known for being strict, sharp-tongued, and downright intimidating. I hesitated, and then picked up my phone. Since breaking up with her, she’d been bombarding me with apologies. I hadn’t responded—not because I didn’t care, but because I needed to cool things down. I quickly typed out a message: “We don’t have to break up, but can you please just behave? I really don’t like it when people break promises.” Her reply came instantly: “Baby, you’re finally talking to me! I’m so sorry! I’ll never do it again, I promise!” She even added a crying puppy emoji. I sighed, steeling myself before knocking on her office door. There was a moment of silence before I heard her clear her throat and say, “Come in.” Her red nose caught my attention the moment I stepped in. Had she been crying? She noticed my gaze and awkwardly tapped her desk. “Dropping off the proposal? Leave it here and head back.” Her tone was noticeably softer than usual—if this were any other day, she’d have snapped at me for going over Kenneth’s head. Still, the proposal wasn’t up to her standards and got sent back for revisions. Naturally, Kenneth dumped it back on me. That Friday, everyone else left early, excited for the weekend. Aurora had left on time for once, and the office quickly emptied, leaving just me and the receptionist. I stayed behind to work on the proposal, promising the receptionist I’d lock up when I was done. It was well past 10 PM when I heard the sound of the door unlocking. My heart jumped. Who could it be at this hour? Images from horror movies flashed through my mind. I gulped, telling myself ghosts didn’t exist, but I still froze, holding my breath. Then, a familiar figure stepped into view. It was Aurora. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have a home to go to?” she asked, clearly surprised. I bit back a retort—Whose fault do you think this is? “The proposal’s due soon, and I didn’t want to risk it being incomplete tomorrow. Figured I’d stay late and finish it.” Her expression softened. “Oh, that one. Let me help you out. It’ll go faster if I explain what I want directly.” I froze. My computer was logged into my personal account—the one I used to message her. She walked over. “Pull it up for me. I’ll take a look.” Panic set in. My mind raced as I stalled for time. “Wait a second!” I blurted.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295258”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #校园School

I Just Returned to my hometown, and a Male Classmate I Haven’t Seen in Years Confessed to Me—With His Wife Right Behind Him ### The moment I stepped off the plane, a college classmate I barely knew threw her arms around me. “Dorothy! I’ve missed you so much!” she exclaimed dramatically. Before I could even process what was happening, another woman stormed over and slapped me. Hard. Several times. “You home-wrecking tramp!” she snarled, her voice dripping with venom. Then, she turned to the man standing nearby and demanded, “Brandon, this is the ‘overtime’ you were talking about?” I was lying on the ground, stunned. My cheek throbbed, but something even stranger happened—flashes of text appeared in front of my eyes, like a scene out of a glitchy video game: “Wow, those slaps were iconic! Queen energy!” “The ‘perfect ex’ is giving major manipulative vibes!” “Uh-oh, the second female lead is about to wake up!” That’s when it hit me. I wasn’t me. I was the tragic second female lead in a romance novel. Apparently, I was the so-called “first love” of the male lead, the one everyone loved to hate. Well, no thanks. I immediately pulled out my phone and dialed 911, my voice trembling with faux panic. “Officer, please help me! I’m being assaulted!” The male and female leads froze, staring at me in disbelief. The woman gawked. “Wait, what? This is just… a relationship dispute.” The man stammered, “How did this escalate to… a criminal case?”

When the police arrived, they took one look at the bright red handprint on my face and immediately escorted both Brandon and Lydia to the station. After gathering all the details, the officers concluded that my injuries didn’t meet the threshold for serious harm. Their verdict? Either Lydia paid me compensation privately, or she’d face five days in detention. Brandon turned to me with a pained expression. “Dorothy, are you okay? Does it hurt?” As he reached out to touch my face, I slapped his hand away, irritated. Lydia, his wife, was livid. “But she’s a homewrecker! Am I not allowed to slap the woman trying to steal my husband?” And then, like clockwork, those strange floating words appeared again: “This ‘perfect ex’ really isn’t easy to deal with.” “She’s the one ruining someone’s marriage, and now she has the audacity to call the cops?” “Girl, just divorce him and let this trashy couple be together!” I frowned and said coldly, “I don’t want her money. Go ahead and detain her.” Without waiting for their reaction, I walked out of the station, leaving the chaos behind. I thought that would be the last time I’d ever have to deal with those two. But that same evening, I was added to a group chat. To my annoyance, Brandon was in it—along with a few of his old college buddies. Brandon immediately started apologizing profusely, flooding the chat with messages about how much he cared for me. His friends chimed in like a chorus, egging me on to forgive him. “Come on, Dorothy, give Brandon a break! Everyone knows how much he loves you.” “Yeah, he’s been into you since college—he’s waited for you all these years!” “Now that you’re back, maybe it’s time to give him a chance?” Their words made me suspicious. I opened my chat history with Brandon, trying to make sense of it all. Back in college, I was part of the student council, so I had everyone’s contact info—but I barely remembered talking to him. When I scrolled through our message history, memories came rushing back. Brandon was that guy. The one who had arranged a giant heart made of rose petals outside my dorm building. At the time, I’d been completely caught off guard. My only thought was to get back to my room before anyone noticed, but his friends had blocked my way and dragged me into the middle of the petal heart. Surrounded by a crowd of classmates chanting, “Say yes! Say yes!” Brandon had confessed his feelings to me in front of everyone. I felt so cornered. Looking at this guy I barely knew, I politely declined. “I’m sorry, it’s not you. It’s me—I’m just not ready for a relationship right now.” After that, I muted his messages and never thought about him again. Now, scrolling through our years of one-sided chats, I realized he never stopped texting me. And the message he sent most often? “I’ll wait for you. When you’re ready to date, we’ll be together.” Back in college, I had turned Brandon down politely because of all the classmates watching. I never imagined he’d interpret that as me asking him to wait for me. For a moment, I genuinely couldn’t comprehend how some men’s minds work. If subtlety didn’t get through to him, it was time to be blunt. I typed a message into the group chat: “I don’t like Brandon. Please stop bothering me about him.” Then, without waiting for a response, I left the group. But soon, I realized it wasn’t about how I phrased my rejection—whether polite or direct. Some people will always twist your words into the version they want to hear. The next day, I went to my father’s company. The reason I had returned to the country was because of my father’s declining health. As his only child, I needed to step in and take over the family business. I hadn’t expected to run into Brandon outside the office as he was leaving for the day. The moment I spotted him, I quickened my pace, silently praying he wouldn’t notice me. Of course, things didn’t go my way. “Dorothy!” he called out, his voice overly cheerful. “Do you work here too?” I let out a small sigh of relief—at least he didn’t seem to know this was my father’s company. “No,” I replied quickly, “I’m just passing by.” He gave me a long look, then smiled. “I’m the director here.” I had no idea why he thought I’d care, but I nodded politely, hoping to end the conversation. No one had asked, but sure, Brandon, go ahead and brag. Sensing the awkwardness, he quickly turned to the little boy holding his hand. “Xavier, say hello to Miss Dorothy.” Then, as if this situation couldn’t get any worse, he added, “This is the Dorothy I told you about. Isn’t she beautiful?” That’s when it hit me—he had a kid. I turned to leave, unwilling to be part of this absurd scene any longer. But as I walked away, the boy suddenly wrapped himself around my leg and declared, “Miss Dorothy is beautiful! Way prettier than Mommy!” I froze, glaring at Brandon. It was obvious he’d taught his son to say that. And then, those strange floating words appeared again: “Like father, like son! This family really is something else.” “Laugh now, kid. Just wait till your mom kicks you and your dad out—you’ll be crying then.” “Can’t wait to see both father and son groveling when the tables turn.” I peeled the boy off me and looked Brandon straight in the eye. “You have a family now. Stop trying to involve me in your life.” I continued firmly, “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t like you. If you keep bothering me, I won’t hesitate to call the police.” Brandon seemed stunned by my words. He didn’t say anything, just took his son and walked away. Since Brandon worked at my father’s company, I knew I’d run into him again eventually. I had prepared myself for that. But over the next few days, Brandon didn’t appear. Instead, his wife, Lydia, came looking for me. 3 I was sitting in a coffee shop near the office, working on my laptop, when Lydia suddenly appeared and plopped down across from me. Her eyes were red and puffy, and before I could react, she started crying. Loudly. “Dorothy, why can’t you just leave my family alone?” she sobbed, her voice trembling. Her dramatic outburst immediately drew the attention of the people around us. She didn’t seem to care about the stares, though. Instead, she leaned closer, tears streaming down her face, and continued: “You knew my husband works here, yet you still had to come to the same company?” “And it’s not enough that you’re stealing my husband—now even my son comes home saying you’re prettier than me! He calls me an ugly mom and says he wants you to be his new mom instead!” I stared at her, completely baffled. It was so absurd I didn’t even know where to start. Still, trying to keep my cool, I decided to be sympathetic—woman to woman. “Maybe your son’s behavior says more about Brandon than it does about you,” I said calmly. “Honestly, you should think about divorcing him. Brandon isn’t worth it, and staying with someone like him will only set a bad example for your son. If you’re not careful, he’ll grow up to be just like his dad.” The second I mentioned the word divorce, Lydia’s expression changed completely. Her tears stopped, and she sat up straight, glaring at me with suspicion. “You want me to divorce him, don’t you? So you can take my place? You’re unbelievable!” she spat, her voice sharp and accusatory. She shot up from her chair, her anger boiling over. “Let me tell you something, you homewrecker—people like you never get a happy ending. You think just because he calls you his ‘first love’ that he’ll still care about you once he marries you? Think again.” I couldn’t help but laugh, though it was more out of frustration than amusement. “I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t touch Brandon with a ten-foot pole.” “Besides,” I added, “I’ve only just returned to the country. I have nothing to do with him.” Lydia let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really? Then why did you even come back? You were doing just fine abroad, weren’t you? What, you couldn’t resist the urge to chase after Brandon?” At this point, I was starting to lose my patience. “Look,” I said, trying to stay calm, “I didn’t come back because of him. I didn’t even tell him I was back. Maybe he saw it because I posted something on social media…” I trailed off as I realized how that sounded. It was like I was accidentally defending myself to her—falling right into her trap. I frowned and shook my head. “Whether I stay abroad or come back is my business. It has nothing to do with him.” But Lydia didn’t care about my explanation. To her, everything I said was just proof that I was provoking her. Without warning, she grabbed the glass of water in front of her and tossed it in my face. Water dripped from my hair and onto my clothes as Lydia leaned in one last time, her voice full of venom. “Just you wait. You’ll get what’s coming to you!” She stormed off, leaving me sitting there, wiping my face with a napkin. As I dabbed at the water, those strange text bubbles appeared again: “Yes! The female lead is finally fighting back! Rip that homewrecker apart!” “But seriously, why hasn’t she divorced the male lead yet? She knows he’s hung up on his ex!” “Oh, you poor innocent soul. If she divorces him now, she’s just letting these two trash bags win.” “Exactly. She needs to gather evidence, take the house, the car, and all his money. Make him regret everything!” I sighed, wondering how I’d managed to get tangled up in this mess. 4 When my close girlfriends found out I was back in the country, they insisted on throwing me a welcome-back party. After spending extra time getting ready, I arrived at the venue only to discover that Brandon and his group of buddies were also there. The moment Brandon saw me, he hurried over like an eager puppy. He poured me a drink, handed me napkins, and hovered far too close for comfort. I instinctively stepped away and made a point of sitting at the farthest corner of the table, putting as much distance between us as possible. Sensing my discomfort, one of my friends leaned over and explained with a grin, “Oh, Dorothy, you haven’t heard, have you?” “Yue is dating one of Brandon’s friends now!” It turned out one of my girlfriends was seeing someone from Brandon’s circle of friends. Since I hadn’t seen my friends in years, I didn’t want to ruin the mood, so I kept quiet and stayed polite. But Brandon’s buddies weren’t content to sit around—they suggested playing drinking games to “liven things up.” I lost several rounds in a row and ended up downing more drinks than I could handle. Just as I was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, Brandon swooped in, grabbed my glass, and drank it for me. His friends erupted into cheers, teasing him about being such a “gentleman” and how he was clearly “protecting Dorothy like the treasure she is.” Meanwhile, I was holding back the urge to vomit—both from the alcohol and the sheer disgust I felt. Seizing the opportunity, Brandon slid into the seat next to me and even had the audacity to wrap his arm around my shoulders. “Dorothy,” he said softly, leaning closer, “you know how long I’ve loved you. I’ve been waiting for you all these years.” I immediately tried to push him away, glaring at him. “What do you mean, you’ve been waiting for me? You’re married! Do you hear yourself?” “And stop this self-delusional nonsense! Stop acting like you’ve sacrificed everything for me—it’s disgusting.” Before I could finish, I was shoved to the ground. Lydia had shown up, her phone camera flashing as she furiously filmed the scene. “I knew it! You just LOVE being a homewrecker, don’t you?” she shouted, her voice trembling with rage. Then she turned on Brandon, her fury spilling over. “And you, Brandon—what’s wrong with you? Is the food I cook at home not good enough? Does everything outside suddenly look better to you? You’re unbelievable!” Brandon instinctively reached out to help me up but quickly changed course when he saw Lydia’s escalating anger. He rushed over to calm her down, but it was too late. Lydia’s entire body was shaking. “I’m done, Brandon. I’m divorcing you!” she screamed. “And don’t think you’re getting off easy. You call yourself a ‘director’? Fine, but after the divorce, I want $10,000 a month in child support!” “Oh, and your car? Your house? They’re mine now too!” As soon as she finished her tirade, the strange floating words appeared again, filling the air like a live commentary: “YES! Finally! The female lead is divorcing him!” “Look at the trashy male lead’s shocked face—cue the ‘chasing-the-wife’ drama!” “Ha! So much for the ‘perfect ex.’ She’s about to get dumped, too!” I stood up, fists clenched, watching this chaotic scene unfold in front of me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295257”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #校园School

I never thought my journey to beauty would begin with a cross necklace carelessly thrown onto Kate Harrison’s pet dog by Adam Sullivan. As I stormed out amidst the laughter of everyone around, I heard someone say, “Adam, Celeste Carter is just your fangirl. She’ll be back in less than half an hour.” They were wrong. I had originally become Adam’s admirer only to exchange points for beauty. The system told me there were two ways to become beautiful: either win Adam’s heart or become a top student. Not willing to study hard, I chose the first option. But now I’ve come to my senses. If I have the determination to pursue Adam, why not aim for something better? Why not try for Harvard or Yale? However, just as I was about to participate in the academic competition and win a gold medal, Adam lost it. “You’re giving up on liking me because of this guy, aren’t you?” he asked, pointing at the cold-faced academic genius whose arm he had just broken. I slapped him right across the face. Now that I’ve become a great beauty, why would I want him when I could have any guy I want? On Adam’s birthday, I presented him with a carefully prepared gift. It was a cross necklace I had carved myself. I had trekked through an entire forest to cut down a branch from a violet wood tree to carve it. Being a chubby girl, the long hike nearly killed me. But for Adam, I was willing to go all out. Halfway through, I was panting like a dog, unable to go on. “Come on, host! How else will you get through this forest to cut down the violet wood branch? How will you make the cross necklace without cutting down the tree? How will you win Adam’s heart without a gift? And how will you become beautiful without winning Adam’s heart?” the system encouraged me. I thought the system made sense. So I gritted my teeth and pushed on to the top, successfully cutting down the violet wood branch. But when I had carefully set up the venue and waited for Adam and his friends to arrive, I immediately noticed the prom queen by his side. Kate Harrison, standing next to him, had carefully styled her hair and applied the most fashionable makeup, making her features even more stunning. They looked so good together. But I still wanted to give it a shot. “Happy birthday, Adam,” I said, presenting the painstakingly carved violet wood cross. “What’s this?” Adam took it casually, seemingly not caring much. “It’s a cross necklace, isn’t it? Celeste, you’re so thoughtful!” Kate praised me with a smile. “Adam, you must keep it safe. Celeste even went to the forest to cut down violet wood to carve this cross for you. Her gift is really heartfelt,” Kate added. “You went through the forest? You actually went through the forest for this crappy cross? Are you out of your mind?” Adam seemed angry when he heard Kate’s words. “I just heard that violet wood is the best material for making crosses, so…” I took a deep breath and decided to say it. “Adam, I like you.” As soon as I said those words, everyone around us exploded. “Hahaha, Adam, your little follower just confessed to you!” “Hahaha, Adam, she really likes you, she actually said it out loud!” Adam’s face darkened. “Celeste Carter, are you trying to disgust me on my birthday?” He pinched the corner of my cross, looking indescribably angry. “Have you watched too many romantic dramas? You deliberately went through the forest to find a branch, wanting to tell me how much you love me? Have you looked in the mirror? Do you think you’re worthy?” I really hadn’t expected Adam to say such things. I knew he might not like me, might reject me. But how could he, who once pulled me out of the whirlpool, joke about my appearance and push me back into the abyss? Adam almost shouted these words. “Hahaha, isn’t it embarrassing? Adam, you’re being liked by Celeste Carter, you’re not clean anymore!” His buddies burst into laughter. I could barely maintain my expression, almost crying. “Adam, how can you say that to Celeste? It’s obvious she genuinely likes you. She must have thought you had feelings for her too, to have the courage to confess in public…” Kate’s words were very suggestive. Sure enough, after hearing this, Adam became even more furious. “I like her? I have feelings for her? I’m not blind!” Adam was so angry that even the veins on his forehead were throbbing. At that moment, Kate’s Chow Chow came trotting towards the crowd. Kate picked it up and gave it a kiss. “Say hi to daddy, tell him not to be angry. It’s his birthday, he should be happy.” Daddy… Isn’t this Kate’s dog? I got it. It turns out that before I knew it, Adam had already started being a dad to Kate’s dog. “Xiuxiu, come here,” Adam said, his previously angry expression suddenly changing to a gentle one as he patted the Chow Chow’s head. So his attitude towards me was worse than towards a dog. The next second, I saw him casually put the cross necklace I had worked so hard to carve around the dog’s neck. “Here, you can play with this,” he said to the dog. “Yo, Adam, you gave your follower’s gift to the dog to play with. She must be furious!” his friends laughed. I was indeed furious. For this cross necklace, I had shed so much sweat, walked so far, and trekked through the forest. And he casually gave it to the prom queen’s dog. I was both angry and heartbroken. Although it was because of the beauty system that I had decided to pursue him, my feelings for him were genuine. This one action of his was like stepping on my face. I may not be good-looking, but I have my dignity. Since he looked down on me so much, there was no need for me to chase after him anymore. I stormed out amidst everyone’s laughter. “Adam, Celeste Carter is just your fangirl. She’ll be back in less than half an hour.” They were wrong. After this incident, I decided not to like Adam anymore. His allowing me to exist, tolerating me being close, wasn’t necessarily because he discovered my inner beauty or had feelings for me. Perhaps, he just saw me as a tool he could summon at will and dismiss just as easily. I was too stubborn, still wanting to try one more time. I had carefully prepared the birthday venue for him, prepared a birthday gift. I confessed in public on his birthday. Only to embarrass myself. Kate’s laughter came through, mixed in with the crowd, so jarring. Kate Harrison was a transfer student. Due to her pretty face, she caused quite a stir as soon as she arrived at school. She had flowing long hair, lively and delicate features, and a curvy figure. Ever since she came, Adam had become much colder towards me. Before, when I ran errands for him, he would still allow me to stay and hang out with his little group. At that time, I would still comfort myself, thinking that although Adam was cold in personality, he surely wouldn’t be someone who only cared about appearances. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have stood up for me when classmates mocked me, nor would he have specially allowed me to stay by his side. Yes, there were no other girls around him, only me. I was full of hope about winning his heart. But after the prom queen came, everything changed. I became a true errand girl. Adam wouldn’t let me stay, nor would he take me along to activities anymore. He would make me bring him an umbrella to the basketball training hall on a rainy day, but wouldn’t let me stay for dinner with his good buddies. He would make me take my well-organized class notes to him, but wouldn’t invite me to do homework together. The mockery from the surrounding classmates became even worse. “Celeste Carter, you don’t really think Adam Sullivan likes you, do you?” “Only a beauty like Kate Harrison is a match for him. Give up already.” I didn’t believe it and stubbornly continued to be nice to him. “Celeste Carter, go buy some cold medicine from the school infirmary,” I saw Adam’s message and thought he was sick. I rushed to the school infirmary and ran all the way to buy cold medicine for him, delivering it to his classroom. “Yo, Adam, your little follower is here,” his buddies teased. Adam barely lifted his eyelids and took the cold medicine from my hand. “Adam, are you sick? Are you okay?” I asked concernedly. “Hahaha, Adam, did you hear that? Your little follower is worried about you!” his friends laughed. But Adam didn’t pay any attention to me. He just poured the cold medicine into a cup, then went to get a cup of hot water. After doing all this, he walked straight out of the door and went to Kate’s classroom. “Kate, quickly drink the medicine.” I was stunned. So Adam wasn’t sick at all. He made me run errands to buy medicine, just for Kate. “Adam, how could you do this? I thought you were sick…” Kate looked at Adam, then at me. “Did Celeste buy the medicine? Thank you on Adam’s behalf!” What kind of relationship did she have with Adam? What right did she have to thank me on Adam’s behalf? “Celeste Carter, aren’t you annoying? It’s just asking you to help buy some medicine, why are you making such a fuss?” Adam looked at me impatiently. His tone and expression when talking to me were completely different from when he talked to Kate. I panicked. “System, he seems to really like Kate.” “Host, do you want to choose the other way to become beautiful?” the system asked. I couldn’t make up my mind at the moment, so I just went back to my own classroom. Passing by the window, I saw my reflection. Small eyes, flat nose, protruding mouth, and a big face. I was really ugly. So even Adam would fall for a pretty girl, right? But as long as he likes me, I would immediately become very beautiful. Yes, I was bound to the beauty system. The system told me there were two ways to become beautiful: either win Adam’s heart or become a top student. Not willing to study hard, I chose the first option. Adam was the most popular boy in our school. He was handsome, had a good figure, and came from a well-off family. Most importantly, he had never mocked me. He even stood up for me when I was ridiculed by classmates. “Is it fun to make fun of someone’s appearance?” he had said. At that time, I was pushed to the ground by a group of mean girls, my eyes stinging from pepper spray. It was Adam who pulled me up and took me to the infirmary. “Don’t be afraid, you’ve done nothing wrong,” he had said. His voice was so deep and charming. I almost immediately heard my heart pounding. So when the system appeared, I was ecstatic. The existence of the system seemed to provide a more legitimate reason for me to like Adam. Becoming beautiful for the person you love sounds very romantic. I chose the first way to become beautiful almost without hesitation. I even fantasized about how surprised Adam would be when he found out I had become a great beauty after we got together. Would he be happy? But now, I had been his fangirl for over a year. Chasing someone one-sidedly is very tiring. After being Adam’s fangirl for so long, the beauty progress bar hadn’t changed even a bit. This meant I should change my strategy. With the determination to win Adam’s heart, why not do something else? Why not try for Harvard or Yale? I immediately summoned the system. “I want to change methods, choose the second option.” “Alright, host has chosen to become beautiful through studying. If the host improves by 30 ranks in the next small test, you will gain 10 beauty points.” With a new direction and goal, I felt endless motivation in my heart. “Study hard, strive to become a top student, let’s go!” As the new week began, I became even more hardworking. I would circle the knowledge points I didn’t understand and ask the teachers after class. I also made full use of break times, hardly ever leaving the classroom. Adam and I weren’t in the same class. If I didn’t actively seek him out, we wouldn’t have any interaction at all. I don’t know if he noticed anything unusual, but one day after the morning exercises, he stopped me. “Why haven’t I seen you these past few days? Are you angry?” I didn’t respond. Adam looked at me uncomfortably, “What I said on my birthday was indeed a bit harsh, but it’s only because you went too far.” I went too far? I just publicly expressed my feelings, how was that going too far? Indeed, being confessed to by someone you don’t like or even dislike is not a pleasant thing. But I didn’t care anymore. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, Adam assigned me a task on his own. “I have a basketball game tomorrow afternoon, remember to buy water and tissues for everyone and bring them over.” He left without waiting for my answer. But there was no way I would go. I now had to focus all my energy on studying. As long as I study hard, not only can I become a top student, but I can also become beautiful. Why didn’t I realize this good thing earlier? Adam means nothing. When it was time for club activities the next afternoon, I was still sitting in my seat studying like a monk in deep meditation. “Celeste, Adam has a game today, aren’t you going to watch?” my deskmate asked softly. I shook my head, “No, and I won’t be going in the future either.” By the time I finished a set of exercises, almost everyone had left the classroom. The outdoor basketball court downstairs was bustling with noise, with cheers and applause coming from time to time. But none of this had anything to do with me anymore. The girl sitting behind me was the top student in our class, and she was also sitting in her seat doing homework. I looked at her, then at the blank questions on my exercise sheet. “Hey, top student, can you help me with this?” I thick-skinned asked for her help. The expected ridicule and sarcasm didn’t come. She just gently took my exercise sheet, looked at the questions, and started explaining softly. In her eyes, I seemed to be just an ordinary classmate, no different from anyone else in the class. When she finished explaining, I understood. It turns out that communicating with people isn’t that difficult. Not everyone likes to make fun of others’ appearances. Since that’s the case, why should I care so much? I started to enjoy studying. Just then, a message came on my phone. It was from Adam. “Where are you?” Although I wasn’t planning to go watch his game anymore, I couldn’t let them go thirsty because of me. “I’m not going. Ask someone else to buy water for you.” After sending this message, I immersed myself in knowledge again. In this small test, I indeed advanced 30 ranks as planned. “Congratulations, host has completed the goal. Beauty value +10, current beauty value 15.” Wow, only now did I realize that my original appearance was only worth 5 points. After the system’s announcement, I immediately went to the bathroom to look in the mirror. I felt… my skin wasn’t as yellow as before, and I seemed to have lost some weight. “If the host improves by 50 ranks in the next small test, you will gain another 15 beauty points.” Improving another 50 ranks would put me in the top 100! Although it’s a bit challenging, I can’t back down. So I studied even harder, even reviewing French vocabulary or knowledge points while eating and using the bathroom. “Celeste Carter has made great progress this time, everyone should learn from her,” the homeroom teacher praised me publicly for the first time in a long time. This feeling was quite wonderful. I was inwardly delighted, still replaying the teacher’s words in my mind. Unexpectedly, I ran into Adam in the stairwell. “Celeste Carter, you’ve grown bold, haven’t you? You dare to not come to the basketball game and even block me!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295256”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #校园School

My Stepmother is a famous poison widow. People say my stepmother is a notorious poison widow. I’ve heard she’s responsible for the deaths of her two ex-husbands and my father. When my dad died, she wasted no time in having him cremated. When my father’s mistress showed up with her son to claim inheritance, they were all shocked. My stepmother sat cross-legged on the sofa, counting money with a gleeful smile. “I’ve hit the jackpot! This money will last me a lifetime,” she exclaimed. I hid behind the dining table, not daring to make a sound. When relatives came to adopt me, I was still undecided. Suddenly, floating comments appeared before my eyes. [The plot’s moving so fast! The heroine’s about to be taken away by relatives to be mistreated. I can’t wait!] [These relatives are evil. After getting the money, they’ll sell the heroine to some remote village.] [That’s nothing. All the hardships she endures as a child will be compensated by the male lead’s love later. A pure, innocent flower growing in adversity, meeting her savior when she grows up. So sweet!] Me: ?? Whose story is this miserable? Can I still cling to my stepmother’s leg?

My father recently married a new wife. I hid in the shadows, watching this new stepmother with her charming smile and radiant beauty. I finally understood why my father married her. Even knowing she was rumored to have caused the deaths of two ex-husbands, he still wanted to marry her. Just for that face, it was worth it. These men all thought they were victorious in winning a beautiful wife. Unfortunately, they all ended up dead. My father died just two short months after the wedding. Some people suspected my stepmother was behind it, but they couldn’t find any evidence. They could only attribute it to superstition. They said my stepmother was too toxic, that she brought death to anyone she touched. The day my father died, several women showed up with children, demanding inheritance. My stepmother, the champion of household battles who had defeated these women, went on the offensive. “Uncle Wang, throw these filthy things out!” she ordered. Cutting off someone’s money is like killing their parents. How could these people give up so easily? My stepmother looked delicate, but her words were merciless. She brought out my father’s urn. “Oh my, he’s already been cremated. We can’t do a paternity test now, but you’re welcome to join him down there,” she said with a smile. The women burst into tears. “Are you even human? Robert’s body wasn’t even cold, and you had him cremated.” My stepmother smiled sweetly and said, “I checked. He was cold, very cold indeed.” That smile sent chills down my spine, and I quietly moved further away. In the end, those women and children were dragged away by security, crying and screaming. My stepmother lounged comfortably on the sofa, pouring herself a glass of red wine, in a great mood. “I’ve struck it rich. This money will last me a lifetime,” she said. “Too bad there’s one extra burden,” she added with a frown. I watched her smile and frown, not daring to make a sound. She seemed to view me as a burden. Would I be homeless soon? Thankfully, since my mother passed away, my uncle has been caring for me. He said yesterday he wanted to take me away. Not long after, my uncle and aunt arrived. My aunt was crying all the way here, her eyes red: “Lily, how could your parents leave so early?” “Poor Lily, a girl without parents, what will become of you?” My uncle stroked my head, saying sympathetically, “Poor child, come live with us from now on.” They looked at me with sincere concern. I glanced secretly at my stepmother, who didn’t seem keen on keeping me. Everyone says stepmothers are bad, but I didn’t feel that way. She just treated me like a stranger, just like my father did. I was leaning towards going with my uncle when I was about to speak. Suddenly, floating comments appeared in front of me. [The plot’s moving so fast! The heroine’s about to be taken away by relatives to be mistreated. I can’t wait!] [These relatives are evil. After getting the money, they’ll sell the heroine to some remote village.] [That’s nothing. All the hardships she endures as a child will be compensated by the male lead’s love later. A pure, innocent flower growing in adversity, meeting her savior when she grows up. So sweet!] [This evil stepmother doesn’t look like a good person either. She probably can’t wait to get rid of the girl.]

I couldn’t understand these words. What male lead? What innocent flower? My uncle and aunt, seeing I wasn’t responding, started to get impatient. “Lily? Your aunt is talking to you!” Are the relatives the comments mentioned my uncle and aunt? Will they sell me in the future? I started to hesitate, unable to make a decision. My uncle made the decision for me. “Alright, take Lily with you. I’ll talk to Vivian about this,” he said. My aunt started dragging me towards the door, ignoring my resistance. I started crying helplessly. My stepmother stood up impatiently and said with displeasure: “What’s this? Trying to snatch a child from my house?” I felt like I had grabbed onto a lifeline. I broke free from my aunt’s grip and ran towards my stepmother. Before I could touch her sleeve, she avoided me with disgust. I wrung my hands nervously and finally called out: “Mom… I don’t want to go with them.” This was the first time I called her mom. My stepmother’s face flashed with surprise. She was speechless for a moment: “You…” My uncle grabbed my hand and said to my stepmother: “The child is just being difficult. She’ll be fine once she comes with us.” He turned to glare at me fiercely: “Your parents are dead. I’m your closest relative now. Who else can you go with?” “Don’t bother your mom. Come with us right now.” At this moment, I started to believe those strange comments. Maybe they really would take me away and sell me. I looked up at my stepmother pleadingly. She was my last hope. My stepmother ignored the man’s words. She looked down at me: “Are you sure? If you stay, you’ll be my daughter from now on.” “You’ll have to take care of me when I’m old.” I hesitated, then nodded. My stepmother coldly looked at my uncle: “See? She doesn’t want to go with you.” My uncle laughed dryly: “You’re still young. You can have your own children later.” “This child is skinny and not very smart. She’ll only give you trouble if you keep her.” My stepmother sneered: “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. I’m her legal guardian now. No one can take her away without my permission.” Seeing my stepmother’s firm attitude and the security guards at the door, my uncle didn’t dare to force the issue. He probed: “Well, didn’t her father leave a lot of inheritance? We can help manage it for her, so she doesn’t waste it.” My stepmother nodded exaggeratedly: “Yes, it’s a lot of money.” Seeing my uncle and aunt’s eyes light up, she continued: “But it’s none of your business to manage it.” This really angered them. As my uncle was about to lunge forward, The security guards immediately sprang into action, carrying the two of them away. The floating comments appeared again: [How did the plot change? Is the evil stepmother going to raise the heroine?] [Oh no, what about my male lead? The heroine was supposed to meet him after being sold to the mountains by her aunt.] [Maybe the stepmother plans to sell the heroine herself. Let’s wait and see, everyone.]

After my uncle and aunt caused trouble at home once, Even though I was young, I realized they weren’t good people. If I couldn’t trust them, who could I trust? My stepmother? Would she sell me off like the comments suggested? After my uncle left, I tried to minimize my presence at home, not wanting my stepmother to notice me. I was afraid that one day she’d remember me and decide I ate too much, then sell me off to the mountains. But she seemed very busy, and I didn’t see her for several days. I felt relieved. One day, when I went to the kitchen to find something to eat, my stepmother’s voice suddenly rang out. “What are you looking for? Have you eaten?” I clutched my clothes nervously and said timidly, “I’ve finished eating, Ms. Vivian.” “You little brat, calling me mom when you need something, and Ms. Vivian when you don’t, huh?” She snorted coldly, seeming displeased. “I’ve been busy the past few days. How have you been eating?” How have I been eating? Just like usual, whatever was left after the servants finished eating was my food. I told her honestly. My stepmother opened the refrigerator, looked at the leftover chicken bones inside, and frowned: “So, this is what you usually eat?” I nodded. What else could I eat? I was just one of my father’s many children from outside, lucky enough to be brought back. It was only because my mother fell ill and passed away, leaving me with no one to care for me. After my father brought me back, he ignored me and rarely came home. I was completely forgotten in a corner. The servants were all shrewd. Seeing how my father treated me, they started to neglect me too. If I was lucky, I would have leftover food to eat. More often, I would go hungry for an entire day. After a long silence, my stepmother cursed in a way I didn’t understand, then called all the servants of the villa. In front of everyone, she said: “What’s their status, and what’s yours?” “As my daughter, you eat leftovers? I’d be laughed at if people knew.” “Lily, look at these servants. Who bullied you? Point them out.”

The next day, all the servants I had pointed out disappeared, replaced by a batch of young college student nannies. My stepmother said college students were cheap and worked hard. I didn’t understand. Until I saw the floor being mopped three times a day, and the dining table filled with a variety of delicious foods. I vaguely began to understand. I sat carefully at the dining table, smelling the fresh food aroma, not daring to pick up my chopsticks. My stepmother propped her head with one hand, pushing the food in front of me. “Finish all of this. You’re not allowed to leave until you do.” I swallowed. Was this really happening? I demonstrated a whirlwind eating performance for my stepmother, making her frown. “You need to eat like this from now on, or people will think I’m mistreating you as a stepmother.” I nodded while eating. After eating my fill, I saw the floating comments again. [What is this evil stepmother doing? Fattening up the girl to sell her for a better price?] [This plot is good. Let the heroine feel warmth before cruelly abandoning her. The impact will be greater this way.] [No wonder so many men like the heroine when she grows up. She’s such an obedient little dumpling from a young age.] My stepmother leaned back lazily and said: “Don’t live in that doghouse anymore. It doesn’t look fit for human habitation.” “I’ve had a room prepared for you upstairs. You’ll live upstairs with me from now on.” My stepmother’s way of speaking in bursts made me nervous. Her following words made my heart race even more. I couldn’t help but think of the floating comments that had just appeared. Was it true, as they said, that she was fattening me up to sell me off?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295255”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic

My Stepmother is a famous poison widow. People say my stepmother is a notorious poison widow. I’ve heard she’s responsible for the deaths of her two ex-husbands and my father. When my dad died, she wasted no time in having him cremated. When my father’s mistress showed up with her son to claim inheritance, they were all shocked. My stepmother sat cross-legged on the sofa, counting money with a gleeful smile. “I’ve hit the jackpot! This money will last me a lifetime,” she exclaimed. I hid behind the dining table, not daring to make a sound. When relatives came to adopt me, I was still undecided. Suddenly, floating comments appeared before my eyes. [The plot’s moving so fast! The heroine’s about to be taken away by relatives to be mistreated. I can’t wait!] [These relatives are evil. After getting the money, they’ll sell the heroine to some remote village.] [That’s nothing. All the hardships she endures as a child will be compensated by the male lead’s love later. A pure, innocent flower growing in adversity, meeting her savior when she grows up. So sweet!] Me: ?? Whose story is this miserable? Can I still cling to my stepmother’s leg?

My father recently married a new wife. I hid in the shadows, watching this new stepmother with her charming smile and radiant beauty. I finally understood why my father married her. Even knowing she was rumored to have caused the deaths of two ex-husbands, he still wanted to marry her. Just for that face, it was worth it. These men all thought they were victorious in winning a beautiful wife. Unfortunately, they all ended up dead. My father died just two short months after the wedding. Some people suspected my stepmother was behind it, but they couldn’t find any evidence. They could only attribute it to superstition. They said my stepmother was too toxic, that she brought death to anyone she touched. The day my father died, several women showed up with children, demanding inheritance. My stepmother, the champion of household battles who had defeated these women, went on the offensive. “Uncle Wang, throw these filthy things out!” she ordered. Cutting off someone’s money is like killing their parents. How could these people give up so easily? My stepmother looked delicate, but her words were merciless. She brought out my father’s urn. “Oh my, he’s already been cremated. We can’t do a paternity test now, but you’re welcome to join him down there,” she said with a smile. The women burst into tears. “Are you even human? Robert’s body wasn’t even cold, and you had him cremated.” My stepmother smiled sweetly and said, “I checked. He was cold, very cold indeed.” That smile sent chills down my spine, and I quietly moved further away. In the end, those women and children were dragged away by security, crying and screaming. My stepmother lounged comfortably on the sofa, pouring herself a glass of red wine, in a great mood. “I’ve struck it rich. This money will last me a lifetime,” she said. “Too bad there’s one extra burden,” she added with a frown. I watched her smile and frown, not daring to make a sound. She seemed to view me as a burden. Would I be homeless soon? Thankfully, since my mother passed away, my uncle has been caring for me. He said yesterday he wanted to take me away. Not long after, my uncle and aunt arrived. My aunt was crying all the way here, her eyes red: “Lily, how could your parents leave so early?” “Poor Lily, a girl without parents, what will become of you?” My uncle stroked my head, saying sympathetically, “Poor child, come live with us from now on.” They looked at me with sincere concern. I glanced secretly at my stepmother, who didn’t seem keen on keeping me. Everyone says stepmothers are bad, but I didn’t feel that way. She just treated me like a stranger, just like my father did. I was leaning towards going with my uncle when I was about to speak. Suddenly, floating comments appeared in front of me. [The plot’s moving so fast! The heroine’s about to be taken away by relatives to be mistreated. I can’t wait!] [These relatives are evil. After getting the money, they’ll sell the heroine to some remote village.] [That’s nothing. All the hardships she endures as a child will be compensated by the male lead’s love later. A pure, innocent flower growing in adversity, meeting her savior when she grows up. So sweet!] [This evil stepmother doesn’t look like a good person either. She probably can’t wait to get rid of the girl.]

I couldn’t understand these words. What male lead? What innocent flower? My uncle and aunt, seeing I wasn’t responding, started to get impatient. “Lily? Your aunt is talking to you!” Are the relatives the comments mentioned my uncle and aunt? Will they sell me in the future? I started to hesitate, unable to make a decision. My uncle made the decision for me. “Alright, take Lily with you. I’ll talk to Vivian about this,” he said. My aunt started dragging me towards the door, ignoring my resistance. I started crying helplessly. My stepmother stood up impatiently and said with displeasure: “What’s this? Trying to snatch a child from my house?” I felt like I had grabbed onto a lifeline. I broke free from my aunt’s grip and ran towards my stepmother. Before I could touch her sleeve, she avoided me with disgust. I wrung my hands nervously and finally called out: “Mom… I don’t want to go with them.” This was the first time I called her mom. My stepmother’s face flashed with surprise. She was speechless for a moment: “You…” My uncle grabbed my hand and said to my stepmother: “The child is just being difficult. She’ll be fine once she comes with us.” He turned to glare at me fiercely: “Your parents are dead. I’m your closest relative now. Who else can you go with?” “Don’t bother your mom. Come with us right now.” At this moment, I started to believe those strange comments. Maybe they really would take me away and sell me. I looked up at my stepmother pleadingly. She was my last hope. My stepmother ignored the man’s words. She looked down at me: “Are you sure? If you stay, you’ll be my daughter from now on.” “You’ll have to take care of me when I’m old.” I hesitated, then nodded. My stepmother coldly looked at my uncle: “See? She doesn’t want to go with you.” My uncle laughed dryly: “You’re still young. You can have your own children later.” “This child is skinny and not very smart. She’ll only give you trouble if you keep her.” My stepmother sneered: “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. I’m her legal guardian now. No one can take her away without my permission.” Seeing my stepmother’s firm attitude and the security guards at the door, my uncle didn’t dare to force the issue. He probed: “Well, didn’t her father leave a lot of inheritance? We can help manage it for her, so she doesn’t waste it.” My stepmother nodded exaggeratedly: “Yes, it’s a lot of money.” Seeing my uncle and aunt’s eyes light up, she continued: “But it’s none of your business to manage it.” This really angered them. As my uncle was about to lunge forward, The security guards immediately sprang into action, carrying the two of them away. The floating comments appeared again: [How did the plot change? Is the evil stepmother going to raise the heroine?] [Oh no, what about my male lead? The heroine was supposed to meet him after being sold to the mountains by her aunt.] [Maybe the stepmother plans to sell the heroine herself. Let’s wait and see, everyone.]

After my uncle and aunt caused trouble at home once, Even though I was young, I realized they weren’t good people. If I couldn’t trust them, who could I trust? My stepmother? Would she sell me off like the comments suggested? After my uncle left, I tried to minimize my presence at home, not wanting my stepmother to notice me. I was afraid that one day she’d remember me and decide I ate too much, then sell me off to the mountains. But she seemed very busy, and I didn’t see her for several days. I felt relieved. One day, when I went to the kitchen to find something to eat, my stepmother’s voice suddenly rang out. “What are you looking for? Have you eaten?” I clutched my clothes nervously and said timidly, “I’ve finished eating, Ms. Vivian.” “You little brat, calling me mom when you need something, and Ms. Vivian when you don’t, huh?” She snorted coldly, seeming displeased. “I’ve been busy the past few days. How have you been eating?” How have I been eating? Just like usual, whatever was left after the servants finished eating was my food. I told her honestly. My stepmother opened the refrigerator, looked at the leftover chicken bones inside, and frowned: “So, this is what you usually eat?” I nodded. What else could I eat? I was just one of my father’s many children from outside, lucky enough to be brought back. It was only because my mother fell ill and passed away, leaving me with no one to care for me. After my father brought me back, he ignored me and rarely came home. I was completely forgotten in a corner. The servants were all shrewd. Seeing how my father treated me, they started to neglect me too. If I was lucky, I would have leftover food to eat. More often, I would go hungry for an entire day. After a long silence, my stepmother cursed in a way I didn’t understand, then called all the servants of the villa. In front of everyone, she said: “What’s their status, and what’s yours?” “As my daughter, you eat leftovers? I’d be laughed at if people knew.” “Lily, look at these servants. Who bullied you? Point them out.”

The next day, all the servants I had pointed out disappeared, replaced by a batch of young college student nannies. My stepmother said college students were cheap and worked hard. I didn’t understand. Until I saw the floor being mopped three times a day, and the dining table filled with a variety of delicious foods. I vaguely began to understand. I sat carefully at the dining table, smelling the fresh food aroma, not daring to pick up my chopsticks. My stepmother propped her head with one hand, pushing the food in front of me. “Finish all of this. You’re not allowed to leave until you do.” I swallowed. Was this really happening? I demonstrated a whirlwind eating performance for my stepmother, making her frown. “You need to eat like this from now on, or people will think I’m mistreating you as a stepmother.” I nodded while eating. After eating my fill, I saw the floating comments again. [What is this evil stepmother doing? Fattening up the girl to sell her for a better price?] [This plot is good. Let the heroine feel warmth before cruelly abandoning her. The impact will be greater this way.] [No wonder so many men like the heroine when she grows up. She’s such an obedient little dumpling from a young age.] My stepmother leaned back lazily and said: “Don’t live in that doghouse anymore. It doesn’t look fit for human habitation.” “I’ve had a room prepared for you upstairs. You’ll live upstairs with me from now on.” My stepmother’s way of speaking in bursts made me nervous. Her following words made my heart race even more. I couldn’t help but think of the floating comments that had just appeared. Was it true, as they said, that she was fattening me up to sell me off?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295254”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic

I posted a lovey-dovey photo with my husband on Instagram. Suddenly, a comment popped up in the comment section: “Your husband is cheating on you!” The attached photo showed Milo embracing his secretary. I didn’t take it seriously. There were many attractive employees in Milo’s company, and that secretary was quite plain-looking. Milo had even mentioned how annoying she was. I believed him. But later, Milo ended up getting detained for 15 days after beating up her abusive husband. When Milo’s 15-day detention was over, I went to pick him up. His secretary Tiffany was also waiting outside the police station. She shrank back when she saw me, instinctively trying to hide. I ignored her, looking down. Milo came out of the station and rushed straight towards me without even glancing at her, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Lena, I missed you so much!” As I rested my chin on his shoulder, my gaze met Tiffany’s over Milo’s shoulder. She stared at us with reddened eyes, choking out: “Milo…” Milo’s body noticeably stiffened for a moment, but he quickly acted as if nothing had happened and pulled me towards the street. He seemed to pretend he hadn’t heard anything, focused only on me: “Let’s go home first. Do you want to eat at home or go out today?” “Milo, Milo.” Tiffany followed us, repeatedly calling Milo’s name through her tears. Just like her name had come between Milo and me for the past three years. Milo still ignored her, only gripping my hand tighter, so tight it almost hurt. Tiffany kept calling his name. Milo finally snapped, turning to yell at her: “Why are you so annoying? Why are you following me like a stalker? My wife is right here, have you no shame?” Tiffany stood there, staring at Milo with red eyes as tears streamed down her face. “I just wanted to thank you and give you this protection amulet.” She held out her palm, revealing a small amulet. “I don’t want your stupid amulet. Let me make this clear one last time – I didn’t beat that guy up for you. I just can’t stand abusive men. I would have done the same for any woman being hit. Now get lost!” Milo seemed to lose control of his emotions. After yelling, he dragged me straight into a taxi. I stared at my wrist, reddened from his tight grip, and looked down. Tiffany didn’t give up, running after our car. The driver noticed and asked us: “That woman seems to be looking for you. Should I stop?” Milo snapped irritably: “No need. Let her run if she wants!” Then he took my hand again and continued: “After dinner, let’s go for a walk by the river. We haven’t been to that island in a while. Didn’t you used to say you loved watching the night view there together?” He seemed to be earnestly discussing our plans. But he didn’t realize his eyes had glanced at the rearview mirror countless times, and his fingers were fidgeting unconsciously. This was his habit when he felt anxious and uneasy. No one knew him better than I did. I looked in the rearview mirror too. Tiffany was still persistently running after the car. She must have been running too fast, because she suddenly tripped and fell. “Stop the car!” Milo shouted. The car door flew open before we had fully stopped. Milo rushed out towards Tiffany, not even bothering to close the door. In the rearview mirror, I saw Milo help Tiffany up and wipe away her tears. Tiffany grabbed Milo’s hand and put the amulet she had brought around his wrist. Milo made no move to pull his hand away. Instead, he gazed at Tiffany with eyes full of concern. I looked away and closed the open car door. “Let’s go, driver.” My heart felt desolate. Two weeks ago, when I received that phone call, I had a feeling something was about to happen between Milo and me. I was at work when I suddenly got a call from Milo’s colleague. “Something’s happened to Milo, come quickly!” My heart sank. I immediately took time off and rushed to Milo’s company. When I arrived at the lobby, I saw Milo pinning a man to the ground, beating him. The rage and frenzy on his face was something I had never seen before. It was completely at odds with his usual gentle demeanor. The man on the ground was already bloodied and immobile from Milo’s punches. But Milo showed no signs of stopping. If this continued, something terrible would happen. I called Milo’s name from the side. But he acted as if he couldn’t hear me. As he raised his fist again, I rushed forward and grabbed his arm. “Milo, stop!” “Get lost!” He shoved me away without even looking. Caught off guard, I fell hard, bruising my palms and knees. The pain brought tears to my eyes. Just as I was about to get up, I saw Tiffany rush out from the crowd, crying. “Milo, stop!” With just one shout from her, Milo stopped. I stared at him in shock, the pain in my body suddenly magnified, stimulating my tear ducts. Tears streamed down my face. Tiffany went over and pulled Milo up, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with red-rimmed eyes. “Does it hurt?” Milo shook off her hand, seeming annoyed, but immediately responded to her. “It doesn’t hurt at all. Stop crying, you’re already ugly enough without crying making it worse.” He then “angrily” tapped the tip of Tiffany’s nose. At that moment, they looked more like a couple. While I was like a clown who had fallen to the ground. A chill of unease spread through my heart. Someone quietly reminded Milo: “Mr. Smith, your wife is here.” Milo turned and saw me, panic evident on his face. “Lena, when did you get here? How did you fall? Are you hurt?” I suddenly felt like laughing, but as I laughed, the tears flowed even harder. In the past, no matter how out of control Milo got, he would always calm down at the sound of my voice. He once whispered in my ear: “Lena, when I’m angry, I can’t hear anyone else’s voice. Only yours can calm me down.” He said: “You’re my anchor.” But now? Now, how had that person become Tiffany? A woman he had complained about to me for three years. He always said: “I’ve never seen someone so stupid, she can’t even do simple tasks.” “Not only is she ugly, she doesn’t even know how to dress herself. It’s really affecting the company’s image.” “I’ll fire her soon and hire a new assistant.” But his actions didn’t lie. Since Milo’s heart had already shifted, I didn’t want it anymore. Tiffany had been Milo’s assistant for three years. When she was first hired, Milo and I had just gotten engaged. Tiffany had a boyfriend at the time. In the first year, I often heard Milo scolding her. “She can’t even make a simple spreadsheet properly. I don’t know how she got her degree.” “I’ve reminded her many times to dress up a bit when meeting clients, to maintain the company’s image. She’s already plain-looking, and she doesn’t even bother with makeup. It’s embarrassing!” “I can’t stand this assistant anymore. I’ll have HR fire her tomorrow and find me a new one.” But Tiffany always stayed. In the second year, Milo and I officially got married. Tiffany wasn’t on the guest list for our wedding. After the wedding, while Milo was in the shower, I happened to see a text message pop up on his phone on the table: “Mr. Smith, I broke up with him today.” I frowned, not understanding why an assistant would need to report her personal relationship status to her boss. And on the day of our wedding, no less. When Milo came out of the shower, I asked him with his phone in hand: “Why is Tiffany telling you about breaking up with her boyfriend?” Milo seemed just as confused. “How would I know? This girl must have issues!” He took the phone, glanced at it, then tossed it aside in disgust. “Not only is she plain-looking, but she also picked a lousy boyfriend. He was always emotionally manipulating her, even physically abusive. She could barely focus at work.” Seeing his disgusted tone, I didn’t think much of Tiffany at the time. But things seemed to quietly change. In Tiffany’s third year at the company. One night, I posted a photo on Instagram of Milo and me holding hands while walking along the Thames. A comment immediately popped up in the comments section: “Your husband is cheating!” The attached photo showed Milo hugging Tiffany. I had seen group photos of Milo’s company employees before. Among the many pretty, stylish girls, Tiffany was the plainest one – bare-faced with a sallow complexion. Having been in love with Milo for so many years, it’s not like he hadn’t been pursued before. A university graduate, tall and handsome, with a decent job. There was no shortage of attractive women with good personalities chasing him. He never paid them any attention. After firmly rejecting them, he would hug me and post a photo on Instagram saying “My wife is the best!” to show his sincerity. Of course, I’m no slouch myself – graduated from a top university, with a job and looks to match his. So I thought there was no way he would be interested in Tiffany. Plus, Milo had explained it to me beforehand. It was during a company team building event, playing Truth or Dare. They probably lost and had to do it as a punishment. But this incident planted a small thorn in my heart. So later I went to Milo’s company. Tiffany really was just like in the photo – no makeup, dressed simply, with a sallow complexion. Sitting among a group of pretty girls, she really didn’t stand out at all. When Tiffany saw me, she shrank back, her eyes showing a timid, submissive look. When she came over to pour me tea, her hands shook so much that she spilled tea on my skirt. She turned red with fright, apologizing in a trembling voice. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Her shaking hands tried to wipe the tea off my skirt. When Milo saw this, he yelled at her. “You can’t even do this simple task right. Get out!” Milo came over and carefully asked if I had been burned. Tiffany disappeared from my sight, crying. All along, Tiffany had been the one getting scolded. She was timid, ordinary, with no charm at all – the blurriest face in the crowd. I thought Milo really did dislike Tiffany. But why, in the third year, would he lose his temper and fight for Tiffany’s sake? I went to find out what had happened. The man who was beaten was Tiffany’s boyfriend Kevin, now her ex-boyfriend. Apparently Tiffany wanted to break up with Kevin and had moved out of their shared apartment into the company dorms. Kevin didn’t agree to the breakup and came to the company. They must have disagreed while talking, and during the argument, Kevin slapped Tiffany. Milo happened to see it. Milo immediately rushed over and started beating Kevin without a word. Kevin, unhappy about this, went to the police and had Milo detained for 15 days. Before going in, Milo hugged me tightly and said he would give me a proper explanation when he got out. But where was the explanation? Was it him anxiously abandoning me to help Tiffany up when she fell? Or was it him obediently wearing the amulet she gave him? I sat alone in the car, my heart like dead ashes. When I got home, the table was still set with the welcome home meal I had prepared for him. I sat at the table, waiting until dark, watching the delicious food go from fresh to spoiled. But Milo never came. I lay down to rest. Milo came back very late. He came over and hugged me, softly calling my name: “Lena, Lena…” I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. He went to the bathroom. I happened to see the amulet clearly visible on his wrist. Milo came out of the bathroom just as his phone rang. Probably thinking I was asleep, he answered in a low voice. “What is it?” The bedroom was dark and silent. I heard the voice of Milo’s colleague and friend David. “Tiffany quit her job to avoid affecting you over that incident.” “I heard she’s been harassed by that ex-boyfriend she broke up with for you after dating him for 10 years.” “She likes you. I don’t believe you can’t see it.” “She’s done so much for you. Don’t let her down.” Milo was silent for a long time, so long I thought he had already hung up. Then I heard him say: “I know.” The other side of the bed sank. Milo had lain down too. Usually he would come over and hug me while we slept, but this time he lay with his back to me. The space between us felt like an unbridgeable chasm. It couldn’t be filled anymore. His phone screen lit up all night. The next morning, after Milo left for work, I didn’t go to the office. My stomach wasn’t feeling well, so I took a day off to go to the hospital. I happened to run into Milo’s friend David. He saw me too. “Let’s sit down and talk,” I said. David spoke frankly. “No need. I know what you want to ask about. It’s about Tiffany, right?” “Tiffany isn’t as pretty as you, not as accomplished, doesn’t come from as good a family.” “But she cooks for Milo, takes his place drinking at business dinners, and is always there to comfort him when he needs it most. That’s what men really want. You can’t give him that.” “Milo’s family background isn’t great. Marrying you was like selling himself to your family as a live-in son-in-law. He’s worried about being looked down on by your parents, treating you like a princess. Do you know how much pressure that puts on him? What man wants to live in such a suffocating environment?” “So don’t ask why. You should reflect on yourself first.” I was shocked listening to these words. It’s true my family background is better than Milo’s, but my parents liked him because he was steady and ambitious. They didn’t ask for anything material when we got married. Even our home was prepared by my parents. Later they gave Milo a lot of support and help with his work too. You could say his success today is largely due to my parents’ behind-the-scenes support. But now, he complains all of this is pressure? I remembered our wedding day, when he earnestly recited his vows, promising to never let me suffer for the rest of my life, to love only me forever and ever. If he ever betrayed me, may heaven strike him down! Now that’s become pressure too? The bitterness in my heart spread. I laughed through my tears. When I got home, Milo was on the phone. When he saw me, there was obvious panic on his face. He immediately turned and went to the balcony to continue the call. A few minutes later he came back in, looking very annoyed. “This new assistant is such a headache, calling me over every little thing.” I looked down. Actually, I had heard. He was talking about resumes and job hunting. The only one who needed to find a job now was Tiffany. I just didn’t expect Tiffany’s resume to be sent to my company. My colleague in HR kept praising her resume after seeing it. “This person’s resume is so beautifully done, it’s practically perfect!” The moment I saw the resume, I knew it was Milo’s handiwork. The color scheme and layout all showed his personal style. Back in university, it was well known that Milo made excellent resumes. When we started working, he carefully designed and formatted all my resumes for me. I once told him adoringly: “You should do resume writing as a side job this graduation season. You’d make a fortune for sure.” He laughed and pinched my cheek. “My time is precious. I only have time for your resume, no one else’s.” Now, all those “only you”s felt like a joke. I looked down, an idea forming in my mind. When I returned the resume to the HR colleague in charge of hiring, I casually mentioned: “This applicant looks pretty good.” My hint was taken. And that’s how Tiffany joined our company. She still came bare-faced, with a sallow complexion, wearing a plain white t-shirt and faded jeans. She also wore the same amulet as Milo on her wrist. When she saw me, she wasn’t surprised at all. On the contrary, she greeted me very naturally. “Hello!” I glanced at her without responding. In the break room, besides me and Tiffany, there was also Lisa who loved playing matchmaker. “Tiffany, you don’t have a boyfriend, right? Let me introduce you to someone. He comes from a good family.” Tiffany hesitated, about to refuse. But when she saw me come in, her expression suddenly changed, and so did her attitude. She smiled and agreed. “Sure, Lisa. I’d be happy to meet him.” Scalding hot water overflowed from my cup, but I didn’t notice. “Careful, it’s hot!” Though her words sounded concerned, there was a hint of challenge in her face. At dinner that night, Milo ate while absentmindedly looking at his phone. Suddenly, he slammed his phone down on the table. “Are all women so desperate to get married? All they think about is going on blind dates!” I was startled by his unusual outburst. Blind date? I thought of Tiffany and Lisa’s conversation in the break room earlier. I didn’t ask who he was talking about. Pretending not to know, I just said: “It’s normal for single men and women to go on blind dates at a suitable age, isn’t it? Why are you so angry?” Milo was taken aback, unable to respond for a moment. He just kept putting food in my bowl. “Eat more, you’ve gotten thinner lately.” At 10:30 that night, Milo got a phone call. We were sitting in the living room watching TV. When the phone lit up, I glanced at it casually. It was Tiffany! Milo nervously scratched the back of his head, cursing as he hung up. “What’s she calling for so late at night? Is she crazy?” He put his phone on silent and back in his pocket. He continued sitting next to me watching TV as if nothing had happened. But he became restless and uneasy. Sighing constantly, scratching his head repeatedly. I pretended not to notice. After about 15 minutes, he finally stood up. “I just remembered I have an email I need to deal with. You keep watching, I’ll go take care of it.” I gripped the remote control tightly. “Mm.” Our study was soundproofed, considering that whoever was working inside shouldn’t disturb the other person. So Milo never closed the door when he was in there, saying: “I’m afraid I won’t hear you if you call me.” But now, the study door was tightly shut. A few minutes later, the door suddenly burst open. Milo rushed out, hurriedly putting on his coat. “I’ve told you before, there’s nothing between me and Tiffany. Why are you doing this?!” His face showed annoyance and anger. I didn’t understand. “What did I do?” “You know very well!” With that, he stormed out the door. Since he mentioned me, I could only follow to see what was going on. I didn’t know. I hadn’t done anything, yet I was getting this anger for no reason. I followed Milo to a bar. From a distance, I saw Tiffany crouched alone by the roadside. She seemed different from usual today, wearing makeup and a white dress. In the cold wind, she looked pitiful and fragile. When she saw Milo get out of the car, she immediately stood up and ran towards him, crying. On the last step, she stumbled and fell right into Milo’s arms. Milo naturally reached out to steady her. They looked just like a loving couple on the street. Tiffany nestled in Milo’s arms, sobbing. “I shouldn’t have bothered you and Mrs. Lin so late, but he touched me and I was so scared.” Milo immediately took off his coat and draped it over Tiffany’s shoulders. “I told you, no matter what happens, you can call me anytime. Remember, anytime at all.” What sincere words! He had said the same to me before. I felt as if I had been nailed to the spot, my whole body numb. The cold wind blew at me from all directions, the chill in my heart spreading to my limbs. “Milo!” I called out to him. They both looked at me at the same time. Tiffany instinctively pushed Milo away. “Don’t misunderstand, there’s nothing between Mr. Smith and me.” “I was just so scared, I didn’t know who else to call for help. I had no choice but to call him.” “Don’t blame Mr. Smith. If you want to blame someone, blame me.” As she spoke, she cried even harder. The coat slipped off her shoulders as she sobbed, revealing her arms bruised purple. When Milo saw me arrive, there was still a hint of guilt and panic in his eyes. But when he saw the bruises on Tiffany’s arms, his gaze instantly turned cold. He reached out to help Tiffany put the coat back on, shielding her behind him. “You don’t need to apologize to her. If it weren’t for her setting you up with this scumbag, you wouldn’t have suffered this abuse.” “If anyone should apologize, it’s her apologizing to you.” I stared at Milo in utter disbelief. Suddenly understanding why he had gotten angry earlier that night. Was he upset about Tiffany going on a blind date? Or did he mistakenly think I had set Tiffany up with an abusive date? Or was he angry that Tiffany had been mistreated? Or all three? But he was wrong. None of those things had anything to do with me. The wind stung my eyes. I took a deep breath, controlling my emotions. “It wasn’t me.” “It’s not Mrs. Lin’s fault. I wanted to meet him myself.” Tiffany rushed to answer, her eyes brimming with tears. She went over and tugged on Milo’s hand, looking at him pitifully. “I heard the company was gossiping about you beating up Kevin for me, so I thought if I got married quickly, people would stop talking about you.” Milo’s face darkened. “Don’t worry about the company gossip. And you don’t need to cover for her.” “She set you up on a date without checking the guy’s character first, causing you to be abused tonight. That’s her fault.” Milo looked at me. “Lena, apologize to Tiffany.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295253”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic