He was my late best friend’s younger brother. I’m no saint, and I certainly didn’t have some grand maternal instinct. I took him in on a whim because he looked like a kicked puppy at the funeral, and I had the space to feed him.
I never expected that the skinny kid I dragged home would grow up to be such a wolf.
A wolf who currently has me marked as his target.
01
I posted on my Instagram Story: “Thanks for asking. Loved him once.”
He replied to my story the very next second: “? That’s not what you were saying in bed last night.”
02
Let’s back up. I was drunk.
Friends were egging Caleb on at the bar, telling him to pick his “type” out of the crowd.
He lazily peeled his eyes open, pointed a finger dead at me, and said, “Her.”
That day marked exactly one hundred days since we broke up.
03
In a blurry, drunken haze, Caleb and I ended up sleeping together.
When I woke up the next morning, I let out a scream that could wake the dead.
“What are you yelling for?” he mumbled, rolling over lazily. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”
I kicked out with my leg and shoved him right off the bed.
04
He got pissed. Grabbing my ankle, he yanked me down with him.
I rolled over and crashed right into Caleb’s chest. It was rock hard.
My face flushed hot. Above me, I heard him ask, “Haven’t felt enough yet?”
I bit the bullet and shot back, “More like you haven’t felt enough.”
I underestimated Caleb’s shamelessness. He grabbed my hand, pulled me back down, and stared at me lazily like a dozing lion.
“Wanna feel some more?”
Feel your ass!
Unable to win against him, I scrambled up, wanting to bolt out the door, but he caught my wrist.
He gave me a look. “Stay here. Don’t run around.”
He opened the door, and I heard the sounds of his friends teasing him in the hall.
“Morning, alpha. Rough night?”
“Who’s in there, man? Why won’t you let us see?”
“Screw off.” A breeze swept in, followed by the slam of the door. The noise died down.
Once it was completely quiet, I sneaked back to my own room. Maya was already awake, standing by the door. She asked, “Chloe, where did you go?”
I clutched my stomach. “The toilet in our suite broke. I had to use the one downstairs.”
“Are you… sure about that?”
It wasn’t until I reached the bathroom mirror that I realized what a mess I was. My clothes were wrinkled, my hair was a bird’s nest, and my lipstick was smeared all over my face. I looked exactly like someone who had just done something very, very bad.
Maya pulled up a chair, sat me down, and said, “Confess and you get leniency; resist and face the consequences. Did you stay out all night fooling around with that dog of an ex?”
Just kill me now.
05
On the campus shuttle, I bumped into Caleb again.
You could tell everyone was buzzing. Even Maya whispered, “Doesn’t he drive a Beemer? Why is he squeezing onto the campus shuttle with us?”
I didn’t know. I found a seat as far away from him as possible and sat down.
I pulled out my sleep mask, just wanting to nap, when he walked over, tapped my shoulder, and handed me a box of motion sickness pills.
I was stunned.
At that exact moment, Brandon, a guy I knew from my marketing class, also walked over and handed me a box of motion sickness pills. I genuinely didn’t know which one to take.
In that moment, I deeply understood the awkwardness of a female protagonist in a rom-com.
Caleb let out an incredibly low, icy scoff. He grabbed my hand, shoved his pills into my palm, and I shot Brandon an apologetic look.
Caleb blocked my line of sight to Brandon, pinched my cheek, and said, “You broke up with me to find a guy like this?”
“Chloe, you need to get your eyes checked.”
Why the personal attack?
Wait, did he just out our relationship?
After dropping that bomb, Caleb walked away, looking cool as hell, leaving me completely windblown and panicked.
Brandon handed me his pills and gave a bitter smile. “I didn’t realize you two were involved. No wonder you kept rejecting me.”
Rejecting you? When did you ever even ask me out?
He walked away looking depressed, and I became a human target. Suddenly, I was entangled with two campus heartthrobs, and there was no explaining my way out of it.
Maya snapped out of her shock and asked, “So last night… you slept with Caleb?”
I’m cooked.
I covered her mouth and offered an awkward smile to the rest of the bus. “Don’t believe the rumors, don’t spread the rumors.”
Too late. I saw someone already typing furiously on the college Confession Page.
Help. I’m going to get assassinated by his fangirls.
06
Do modern college students really have this much free time?
We hadn’t even gotten back to campus yet, and my phone was blowing up with people asking me about it.
So this is what being a celebrity feels like.
I posted on my Instagram Story: “Thanks for asking. Loved him once.”
Caleb replied instantly: “? That’s not what you were saying in bed last night.”
Lord, save me.
I could jump into the ocean and still not wash myself clean of this.
That screenshot of my Story, along with a candid photo from the bus, ended up on the campus Barstool page.
Great.
The comments were incredibly unified.
They were all calling me ugly.
Turning my grief into anger, I texted Caleb: “Square up. What exactly do you want?”
“Get back together, or keep getting hated on. You pick.”
“Lmao, you say that as if I won’t get hated on if we get back together.”
“Fair point.”
“But at least you’ll have a handsome guy keeping you company while you get hated on. It’s a win for you.”
Absolute idiot!
I blocked him!
07
The reason I didn’t delete his contact entirely…
Was because I couldn’t bear to lose our chat history.
Even though there wasn’t much of it.
Caleb preferred calling. Back then, I used to hide on my balcony and stay on the phone with him all night. Everyone knew I was dating someone, they just didn’t know it was Caleb.
They thought I was in an online relationship, or being scammed by some creep.
Caleb wasn’t a creep, but he was a player.
We broke up because of how he treated me.
Even though he constantly argued that he didn’t do anything, I didn’t believe him.
I saw it with my own eyes. That girl texted him: “Baby, hop on CoD?”
When I broke up with him, he didn’t even try to make me stay. He just asked, “Are you sure?”
“I am absolutely, one hundred percent sure.”
He never said another word to me after that.
Originally, I thought that if he just coaxed me a little, if he just explained himself, maybe I would forgive him.
But I forgot. He was Caleb.
The golden boy. Why would he ever lower his pride to coax anyone?
100 days. It took me 100 days to finally crawl out of my misery, and now he was messing with me again.
He was the worst.
08
I went to sleep as soon as I got back to the dorm.
I dreamed of Caleb again.
That toxic ex. He was holding hands with another girl, and she was yelling at me: “Ugly freak!”
“You’re the ugly freak!”
I wanted to scream back, but I couldn’t open my mouth. The sound of my ringtone woke me up.
I was drenched in sweat.
It was Caleb calling.
“What?”
“Come downstairs.”
“No.”
I was about to hang up when I heard him threaten me: “Then I’ll just yell from right here. I’ll yell until you come down.”
Who’s afraid of who?
“Yell all you want. As long as you’re not afraid of the RA screaming at you.”
I hung up.
I strained my ears. I actually heard Caleb yelling my name from the courtyard.
No way. He’s actually playing this game?
09
I threw on a jacket and went downstairs.
Seeing me, he stopped yelling. It was late, and he had already caused a minor commotion.
I grabbed his arm and dragged him into the trees near the quad, accidentally bumping into a couple making out.
He chuckled low in his throat, lightly scratching my palm with his thumb. “Dropping hints?”
I dragged him right back out.
Caleb let me pull him along, his temper surprisingly good, until we reached an empty clearing.
He glanced around. “You want to do it here? I mean, it’s not impossible.”
“Fuck off.” I let go of his hand and crossed my arms. “Spit it out.”
He dropped the smirk, handing me the paper bag he was holding. “Mango Frappuccino.”
In the past, whenever I got motion sickness, I always craved a Mango Frappuccino. He would always run out off-campus to buy me one.
Pathetic, right? A single Mango Frappuccino could make me this happy.
I didn’t take it. I looked at him. “Caleb, what exactly do you want?”
“Get back together. That’s your only option.”
“Is playing with my feelings fun?”
He stopped talking. He just looked at me. It was hard to believe that even now, I could still be moved by how incredibly handsome he was.
Hot guys are truly terrifying.
He saw right through my fake tough exterior. He smiled. “Afraid to look at me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. If you don’t have anything real to say, I’m going back upstairs.”
Caleb grabbed my wrist and shoved the bag toward me, forcing it into my hand just like he did with the pills.
I refused. We pushed and shoved. The bag dropped to the ground, ripped open, and the drink spilled everywhere.
We both froze. He crouched down, a self-deprecating smile forming on his lips.
“Is it really… completely impossible?”
10
For the first time ever, Caleb looked vulnerable in front of me.
My heart gave a sharp, painful twinge. “Get up first.”
“Promise me first.”
“…”
“Then you can stay squatting.”
He grabbed my wrist, stood up, and hugged me tightly from behind, resting his chin in the crook of my neck.
“Chloe, I’m miserable.”
My heart was pounding. My throat tightened. I tried to ignore his body heat and struggled.
“Stop acting pitiful.”
“I really am miserable.”
I couldn’t break free. He was too strong.
“Then what do you want?”
“A kiss will fix it.”
“…Fuck off.”
He reached into my jacket pocket, pulled out my phone, and said, “Or, take me off your blocked list.”
Damn it.
He unlocked my phone.
He probably didn’t expect it himself. He froze for a split second. In that tiny window, I shoved him off.
Yeah, I was pathetic. Even though we broke up, I couldn’t bear to delete his Face ID from my phone.
I snatched my phone back. “I’m going inside.”
Caleb chased after me, not saying a word, following me the whole way.
After I got upstairs, I ran to the balcony. I saw him still standing down there, staring blankly at his phone.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “411846”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
The power went out on the very first night I was alone with my arranged live-in fiancé.
In the pitch black, I kicked him. “I want to take a bath.”
After he drew the bathwater, I lazily tugged on his sleeve: “…Don’t leave. I’m afraid of the dark.”
1
I woke up and realized I was eighteen again.
My future husband-of-convenience was helping me grade my practice SATs. Staring at the page full of red Xs, he frowned deeply. “…You really think you’re going to get into Stanford like this?”
Ignoring the Stanford comment, I tilted my head, leaned in close, and asked curiously, “Mason, do you have a crush on me?”
Scratch— His pen drew a long, harsh line across the paper. Mason stared at me, a mix of shock and embarrassment tumbling in his eyes.
After a long moment, he scoffed, “And what if I do?”
Tsk. Nineteen-year-old Mason was still too young to hide his emotions properly.
I let out a soft “Oh,” buried my head back in my scratch paper, and pretended nothing had happened.
As I absentmindedly counted my wrong answers, Mason’s low, strained voice sounded next to my ear, like he had been holding it in for ages.
“Stella.”
He gritted his teeth, his eyes fierce. “…Stop messing with me.”
Hearing this, I turned to look at him, my expression unusually serious. “Mason—”
He gripped his pen tightly.
Me: “I’m hungry.”
Mason stood up abruptly, shot me an icy glare, and then—marched into the kitchen.
I couldn’t hold it in; I laughed out loud.
2
The year my dad brought him home, Mason was only fourteen.
He was scrawny, wearing a faded, oversized button-down and dirty sneakers. He stood in our living room, pressing his lips together, trying desperately to hide the awkward anxiety in his eyes.
I stood at the top of the stairs. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he was the first to look away.
Gloomy, sensitive, fiercely proud yet deeply insecure.
That was my first impression of him.
When it came to his arrival, I wasn’t exactly welcoming, but I didn’t reject him either. As long as he wasn’t my dad’s illegitimate son, everything was fine.
Mason was only a year older than me.
He should have already started college, but because of me, he held back and repeated his senior year.
After we got married, Mason became a man of few words, always busy with work, but incredible in bed. Aside from the lack of romance, you could say we had the perfect marriage.
In the tenth year of our marriage of convenience…
I accidentally discovered that he had been secretly in love with me for a very, very long time.
The day after I found out, I woke up and found myself back in the summer after my high school graduation.
So what now?
Looking at Mason carrying a slice of cake over to me—standing tall, his profile sharp and handsome—I decided I didn’t want a different husband.
I kicked off my slippers and used my toes to hook around his waist.
“I’m so tired.”
I lounged back in my chair, opening my mouth. “…Feed it to me.”
Mason’s eyes were ice cold.
We stared at each other for a long time, and he was the first to concede.
Halfway through feeding me the cake, Mason jolted, grabbing my wandering foot. His voice was fierce and cold, laced with a heavy warning.
“Stella. You better behave.”
Fine.
I shrugged and pulled my foot back.
Mason took a moment to compose himself, then with a stony face, continued feeding me the cake.
I pushed his hand away and tilted my head at him. “You eat some too.”
Mason paused. His long, strong fingers gripped the fork as he took a bite of the remaining cake. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and a tiny dab of frosting stuck to the corner of his mouth.
Looks delicious.
And I wasn’t talking about the cake.
Smiling wickedly, I looked at him with feigned curiosity. “Mason, you just used my fork… Does that count as an indirect kiss?”
Mason gripped the handle of the fork, his face full of restraint. “Stella.”
I didn’t let him finish, continuing on my own. “No, it doesn’t.”
I leaned over, licked the frosting right off the corner of his mouth, and nodded in satisfaction. “…That is an indirect kiss.”
Mason’s spine went completely rigid. A flash of intense embarrassment crossed his handsome face.
His self-control was truly impressive.
Even after all that, his eyes just got fiercer, but he didn’t react physically.
Oh, wait.
Actually, there was a reaction.
I decided to rein it in a bit, switching to verbal teasing instead of physical.
“You’re so mean, Mason.”
“You clearly liked it, didn’t you?”
Mason’s jaw clenched tightly. “…Is this how you treat me?”
“Stella.” His expression looked pained. “I am not your toy.”
Tsk. Nineteen-year-old Mason was so fun to tease.
I just couldn’t help myself.
“Of course you aren’t a toy.”
I dropped the playful smile and looked at him seriously. “You’re… my live-in fiancé, obviously.”
Perfect. That successfully pissed him off enough to make him storm out.
Watching his slightly stiff, awkward gait as he walked away, I finally felt a little better.
Honestly, I was still mad.
He loved me, yet he never told me.
Watching his retreating back, I let out a cold scoff.
Fine. Keep holding it in, then.
3
Actually, Mason didn’t need to worry. My SAT scores weren’t as low as he expected; I could absolutely get into Stanford.
Having lived through this once, I didn’t change my major either.
In my past life, he stubbornly insisted on going to Stanford with me to prove his worth to my parents.
But now, I suddenly understood.
Maybe he just purely wanted to keep me by his side?
On the third day after submitting our college applications, Mason planned to return to his hometown. After all, he had been away for five years and it was time for a visit.
Our memories overlapped.
But what was different this time was that he had a plus-one.
We crossed the country, and I shamelessly tagged along with him to a place called Oakhaven.
It was an old, rustic little town.
It didn’t have the neon lights or the glitz and glamour of the city. It just had a few narrow roads and dim streetlights.
Mason grabbed his luggage and stopped in front of an old house.
The house was old but spacious. I knew it belonged to his late grandmother.
Because his closest relatives had passed away too early, he was kicked around like a soccer ball when he was little, begging for scraps at other people’s houses. That was why he looked so ragged the first time we met.
Mason bustled around, cleaning the old house until it was spotless. I lay on a wicker chair, rocking back and forth, staring at the wooden carvings on the ceiling beams.
I, Stella Sterling, had never done a day of hard labor in my life.
But Mason was the epitome of a kid who had to grow up too fast.
The old house hadn’t been lived in for a long time, which I expected. What I didn’t expect was that the power would go out on the very first night we were alone together.
In the pitch black, I couldn’t help but kick him. “I want to take a bath.”
Mason knew my habits. I bathed every single day, and a power outage wasn’t going to stop me.
He found some candles, lit them, and silently went to heat up water for me.
After he prepared the bathwater, he turned to leave. I lazily tugged on his sleeve: “…Don’t leave. I’m afraid of the dark.”
Mason’s back, illuminated by the candle he was holding, went stiff.
It was incredibly quiet, and faintly, I could hear the sound of him grinding his teeth. “…Stella, do you have any idea what you’re saying?”
“I do.”
I slipped off my pleated skirt and casually tossed it into the wooden hamper nearby. “…I said I’m afraid of the dark.”
The sound of fabric brushing against skin echoed softly.
Mason’s breathing noticeably quickened. When he spoke again, his voice carried a heavy warning. “Stella!”
Tsk.
I hear you, I hear you. Both ears work fine.
Yelling so fiercely, yet standing there with his back to me, not daring to move an inch.
I gathered my hair up, paying him no mind.
I scooped up some water and poured it over my shoulders. Setting everything else aside, Mason was incredibly good at getting the bathwater to the perfect temperature.
But hearing the splashing water, he was probably going crazy.
Hehe.
He probably never expected me to actually go through with it.
4
I admit, I had been bullying Mason quite frequently these past few days.
He seemed to be angry every single day.
But I was used to it.
After dealing with him for so many years, Mason had never smiled at me. Whether it was before or after we got married, he always called me by my full name, “Stella Sterling.”
It was genuinely irritating.
In the backyard, Mason was sitting by the oak tree, washing clothes by hand.
The muscles in his arms were defined but not overly bulky. The soapy suds sticking to his skin inexplicably gave off a domestic, husband-material vibe. He looked healthy, his skin slightly tanned, radiating youthful energy, yet his eyes remained fierce and brooding.
The Mason from ten years in the future? I definitely couldn’t outplay him.
But the Mason right in front of me was only nineteen. Fresh, green, and radiating awkward youth. He was as stubborn as a wild mustang, and aside from bucking, he didn’t know what else to do.
If I were actually the eighteen-year-old Stella, I really wouldn’t have known how to handle him.
But I wasn’t.
Taking my time, I strolled toward the oak tree. I stopped right behind him and then shamelessly hopped onto his back.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I couldn’t help but complain in his ear: “…Mason, I really, really hate it when you call me by my full name.”
I looked distressed. “Why don’t you call me ‘Babe’? Or ‘Sweetheart’? That works too.”
Mason’s back was as rigid as a steel board. His right hand tightly gripped a wad of fabric, the veins bulging on the back of his hand.
Taking a deep breath, he stood up.
“Stella!”
Here we go again.
I ignored it, dangling off his back and swaying. Nuzzling his cheek, I kept teasing him: “…Mason, call me ‘Honey,’ please? I’ll buy you candy.”
Mason didn’t dare touch my legs; he only dared to issue verbal warnings. “Stella, don’t push it!”
Stella, stop messing with me.
Stella, you better behave.
Stella, don’t push it.
Those were the only three phrases he ever used with me, recycled over and over again.
But I always turned a deaf ear.
Hugging his neck, I was relentless. “Mason, you’re not allowed to be so mean to me! I don’t like it!”
Mason didn’t respond.
See? He was mad again.
Mason didn’t even reach back to support me; he just let me dangle there as he marched straight into the house. He pried my hands off with one hand and tossed me onto the bed.
Zero chivalry.
Dissatisfied, I rolled around on the bed twice. I hooked my finger through the strap of a flimsy piece of fabric on the edge of the bed and tossed it at his chest, my tone entirely entitled. “…Wash this too.”
Mason instinctively caught it. Looking at the fabric in his hands, his face turned a chaotic mix of red and pale green.
I looked the picture of innocence. “I can’t touch cold water, you know that.”
He held it in, and held it in again.
Finally, he turned around and obediently walked back out to the yard.
“Mason.”
I picked up a book from the nightstand and called out to him. Flipping to the page I had dog-eared last night, I didn’t forget to remind him: “…That thing in your left hand. Don’t wash it with my clothes.”
I crinkled my nose, looking incredibly serious.
“Ugh… the smell of your ‘alone time’ is way too strong. I hate it.”
“Stella!”
Mason spun around in shock, his neck flushing bright red as he looked at me in disbelief. “Do you have absolutely no shame?!”
Oh?
Is he embarrassed and angry now?
I tilted my head, looking at the bundle of light blue fabric in his left hand.
“Actually—
“I prefer you in tight briefs.”
Even though that style would probably be a bit uncomfortable for him.
But what did that have to do with me… right?
5
Mason had been ignoring me for three days.
Even though he still acted like a devoted caretaker, willingly bringing me food and water, the moment I opened my mouth, he would turn and walk away.
Standing in the yard, he looked as rigid as a small pine tree.
After having so many deep, intimate conversations with him in the future, I obviously knew that briefs were definitely uncomfortable for him.
Thinking about it, I licked my lips.
I was kind of craving him.
So I called out, “Mason.”
Mason turned and walked away.
This time, he walked straight out the front gate.
I pouted, slowly walked to the door, and took a look outside. He was nowhere to be seen.
I didn’t turn back. Instead, I headed to the yard next door.
The little girl with pigtails was doing her homework on a stool. When she looked up and saw me, her eyes instantly lit up. “Stella!”
Mason definitely wouldn’t have guessed that if he wouldn’t play with me, I could find someone else. In the few short days he refused to acknowledge me, I had built a deep friendship with the little girl next door.
Daisy was adorable, and she loved coming over to play with me.
Of course.
Only when Mason wasn’t around.
It was scorching hot lately, but Oakhaven was near the water and densely wooded, making it much cooler than the city.
Daisy was almost done with her homework. She had made plans with her friends to go catching frogs and picking wild blackberries by the creek that afternoon. Seeing that I was bored, she loyally invited me along.
Catching frogs?
Sounded fun.
I accepted the invitation and happily tagged along.
I spent the entire afternoon with the kids.
We flipped over every rock in the shallows, caught a whole bucket of tadpoles, and picked a massive basket of blackberries, having the time of our lives.
When I got home at dusk, I was met with Mason’s wrath.
He stood in the doorway, his face ashen, looking like he wanted to eat me alive.
“Stella!”
Holding two lotus flowers I had picked, I brushed past him, letting my skirt intentionally graze his calf. I carefully placed the flowers in a water basin, my tone careless. “…What?”
Mason’s expression instantly darkened even more, but his tone leveled out. “Why did you run off without saying anything? Do you know I’ve been looking for you all afternoon?”
Why didn’t I say anything?
Because you ran away! If you run, I run.
I gave a dismissive “Oh” and kept arranging my flowers.
Mason suddenly exploded.
Before I could even put the last flower in the water, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the house. Stumbling into the bedroom, I was thrown onto the bed.
Looking at Mason’s face, my eye twitched, and I didn’t hesitate to scramble toward the corner of the bed.
But Mason was faster.
He reached out, grabbed my ankle, and pulled me back.
Pinning both my wrists with one hand and pressing his knee against my legs, his voice was thick with fury. “…Stella, do you know how high and deep the mountains are out here? Do you know what happens if you get taken by human traffickers?! Do you want to be chained up in a basement and turned into an incubator?!”
I squirmed, realizing I was completely pinned and couldn’t break free.
I was going to reasonably explain, “I’m an adult, I have my own judgment,” but what actually came out of my mouth was, “None of your business.”
Mason let out an exasperated laugh, nodding continuously. “…Stella, you’re really something.”
My vision was forcefully spun around. Mason aggressively flipped me onto my stomach before I could even react.
Smack—
A sharp sting radiated from my backside straight to my brain.
One after another.
This was the first time in my life I had ever been spanked.
I never expected the person to do it would be Mason.
He was too strong; I couldn’t break free. I clamped my mouth shut, stubbornly refusing to beg for mercy.
His hand was fast and ruthless, refusing to stop.
Until finally, it hurt too much to bear, and I cried out his name: “Mason… it really hurts.”
My voice was already breaking with tears.
I didn’t actually want to cry.
But it hurt so much, I couldn’t help it.
Mason’s hand stopped. His grip loosened, and I could finally move again.
My backside was burning. With my eyes closed, I slowly reached back, my trembling fingers brushing against it. A wave of intense pain shot straight to my brain.
Tears dripped steadily onto the bedsheets.
Mason didn’t say a word. Furious and terrified, I pulled the blanket over myself, refusing to look at him. “…Get out. I don’t want to see you right now!”
My voice was muffled and completely lacked any threat.
But Mason actually left.
He walked out without saying a single word.
An overwhelming wave of grievance washed over me, and I cried even harder. Once I started sobbing out loud, I finally felt a little better.
I hadn’t eaten dinner tonight.
But I was so exhausted that, crying as I was, I didn’t even realize when I fell asleep.
6
When I woke up the next day, it was broad daylight.
I sniffed myself—a faint smell of sweat mixed with a heavy scent of medicinal ointment. I smelled terrible. Frowning in disgust, I grabbed my clothes and headed to the rustic bathroom.
Mason wasn’t there, but the bathwater was already prepared.
I didn’t refuse.
After all, in his eyes, I, Stella Sterling, would never mistreat myself for anyone’s sake.
And I couldn’t deny it; it was the truth.
The pain was still stubbornly there. I managed to finish my bath with a grimace, finally feeling much better. As I stepped out drying my hair, breakfast was already laid out on the table, but Mason was still nowhere to be seen.
I let out a cold laugh.
Tsk. Trying to play the silent, devoted house-elf?
If Mason thought he could get my forgiveness this easily, he was dead wrong.
My parents were business people; they were master calculators.
I was their flesh and blood. Did he think I’d take a loss?
While I was showering, I had thought it through. Yes, I had taken the joke too far yesterday, but Mason hitting me was crossing a line, and he had to pay for it.
Thinking about it, a surge of resentment welled up inside me.
How dare Mason spank me—and in such a humiliating spot, too!
Continuing to dry my hair, pretending I hadn’t seen the food, I marched angrily into my room and slammed the door shut.
Here was my strategy: refusing to eat his food was my declaration of war.
For the next two days, I used the bathwater he prepared and wore the clothes he washed, but I absolutely refused to eat the food he cooked, and I refused to speak to him.
This wasn’t just throwing a tantrum.
This was psychological warfare.
Dealing with someone like Mason required extreme measures.
Push him into a corner so he had nowhere to run, then give him the cold shoulder, giving him a taste of his own medicine.
It was a battle of wills.
My confidence stemmed from the fact that Mason cared about me.
Sure, my stomach would suffer a bit, but obviously, the results would be highly effective.
Mason was the first to break.
On the evening of the second day of my hunger strike, he finally appeared before me.
“Stella.”
He stood there holding a bowl of porridge, suppressing his anger. “…Are you trying to starve yourself to death?”
I turned my back to him, lying on my side on the bed, treating his words like wind passing my ears. The room fell silent, leaving only the sound of our breathing—one steady, one erratic.
After a long time, Mason’s voice broke the silence again.
“Stella.”
His voice was very soft, and I heard him say, “…You win, Stella.”
I rolled over and lay flat on my back.
I gave him a response, but not much of one.
Seeing my attitude, Mason simply gave up struggling. He asked in defeat, “Stella, what exactly do you want?”
I hid my secret delight, my expression flat. “…Will you give me whatever I want?”
After a moment of silence, Mason gave a difficult nod.
“Yes. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”
I rolled over again, leaning over the edge of the bed, my tone fierce: “Apologize to me!”
Mason: “…I’m sorry.”
I was somewhat satisfied. My shoulders instantly slumped, my voice weak. “Hurry up and feed me. I don’t even have the strength to hold the bowl.”
This was completely different from the scenario I had envisioned.
I originally wanted to string him along a bit more and negotiate terms, but I was just too hungry to maintain the aloof facade.
No choice. Food is life.
Starving for two whole days was already my absolute limit.
Mason pressed his lips together tightly, holding back his temper as he fed me. “…Didn’t you even know how to sneak into the kitchen for a snack?!”
“I would never!”
I swallowed a large mouthful of porridge, my tone aggrieved yet defiant. “Even if I starved to death, I, Stella Sterling, would never bow down for a bowl of rice!”
Thinking about the brutal beating I had endured, seeing Mason made me angry all over again. “…I’m still mad, Mason. How could you be so mean to me!”
“You were the one not listening first.”
Mason wiped my mouth for me. “And your attitude wasn’t right either.”
“Then you still shouldn’t have spanked me!” I emphasized repeatedly, my tone firm. “I am an adult. No one is allowed to treat me like that, and neither are you!”
Thinking for a moment, I added, “…Of course, if it’s a little kink while we’re sleeping together, that’s fine, but to be fair, I get to hit you back.”
“Stella!”
Mason was embarrassed and furious once again. “Shut up!”
So boring.
I was just making a joke. Mason has absolutely zero sense of humor.
Full and satisfied, Mason went to wash the dishes.
His movements were fast. By the time I finished showering and came out, he had already cleaned up. At this point, I had regained my usual calm rationality. Lying on my stomach on the bed, I called out without hesitation: “Mason!”
He walked over, his tone unhappy: “What?”
“Oh, nothing.”
I casually lifted the hem of my nightgown, bossing him around with complete entitlement. “Hurry up and apply my ointment.”
Mason snapped his eyes shut with lightning speed, veins popping on his forehead.
“Stel-la, Ster-ling!”
He gritted out my name through clenched teeth, his voice full of anger and warning.
Tsk, playing the prude.
He didn’t even know how many times he had touched me over the last two days, yet here he was acting all innocent.
But I decided not to push him any further.
After all, he was only nineteen. Getting mad all the time is bad for your health.
“Okay, okay, no ointment then.”
Adjusting my dress, I sat up straight, looking as proper as could be. “…Could my man please dry my hair for me?”
Mason finally lowered his hands.
Perhaps because the title was a bit embarrassing, he looked a little flushed with frustration.
“Stella.”
He grabbed the hairdryer and walked over to me, plugging it in while muttering, “You need to dial it back!”
I just said “Oh” and wrapped my arms around his waist.
“Stella!”
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “411845”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
A viral TikTok asked, “How much damage can a guy’s ‘first love’ actually do?”
I saw my boyfriend’s comment:
“My current girlfriend was just diagnosed with a terminal illness. All I can think is: thank God she’s just a lookalike, and not her.”
Clutching my diagnosis report, I cried until I started to laugh.
1
The first thing I did after leaving the hospital was pack my bags.
Sean noticed me packing before he noticed my bloodshot eyes. He frowned and asked, “What are you packing for?”
I looked up at him and grinned widely. “I’m packing up to go die.”
But Sean didn’t laugh. His frown only deepened.
I knew he only liked it when I offered a demure, close-lipped smile; he only liked me when I was gentle and quiet.
But now that I was dying, I only wanted to do what made me happy.
Right then, his phone rang. The room was so quiet I could hear his friend’s loud voice through the receiver:
“Sean! She’s back! Are you coming to pick her up from the airport or what?”
Sean’s grip on his phone tightened instantly. He gave a quick, soft “Yeah” and hung up.
Probably out of guilt, I could feel his displeasure vanish, replaced by a kind of apologetic affection.
“Baby…” he started, but I cut him off with a smile: “If you have something to do, go do it! Don’t worry about me.”
Sean was in such a hurry he didn’t even notice my suitcase was already fully packed. He hastily ruffled my hair, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door.
The moment he left, I rolled my suitcase straight to a salon and chopped off the long hair I’d grown out for five years.
Snip. Five years, gone in an instant.
2
Sean had barely reunited with his long-lost first love at the airport when I showed up, dragging my suitcase behind me.
Wearing sunglasses and holding a compact mirror, I looked at the woman beside him, then at myself in the mirror. I suddenly had the urge to get a DNA test.
Seeing me, Sean’s brow furrowed so deeply it could have crushed a fly. “Chloe? What are you doing here?”
See? In front of his first love, he resorted to using my actual name instead of his usual pet names.
I took off my sunglasses and walked over confidently to say hi. “What a coincidence.”
The woman was momentarily startled to see me, but she quickly recovered, offering an elegant, close-lipped smile and looking at Sean questioningly.
Sean’s annoyance eased slightly at her smile. He introduced us simply: “This is Audrey, we grew up together. And this is Chloe, my… friend.”
He said the word “friend” so quickly and quietly, it was as if adding “girl” in front of it made no difference.
A sudden look back, and there she is, in the dim, fading light… Ah.
I smiled and extended my hand. “Hi there, I’m Chloe. I’m a ghost, a phantom, someone who shouldn’t exist. And of course, I’m Sean’s ‘friend’.”
“Hello,” Audrey replied, taking my hand. Every movement and smile radiated the ease and confidence of someone who knows they are favored.
Sean looked inexplicably uncomfortable. He gently urged her, “Audrey, you still need to get over your jet lag. I’ll drive you home first. Chloe, you…”
I smiled and cut him off again: “If you have something to do, go do it! Don’t worry about me.”
This time, Sean finally noticed something was wrong. As if just realizing my short hair and the suitcase, his tone suddenly became anxious. “Why did you cut your hair? Where are you going with that suitcase?”
I laughed. “Sean, you’re so funny. Where else would I be going with a suitcase at the airport but on a trip?”
Sean’s pupils constricted. “You’re leaving me?”
“Oh look, my flight’s boarding soon.” I checked my watch and waved at them. “Audrey, I’m leaving my friend in your hands. See you around.”
With that, I turned to leave, but Sean grabbed my wrist and yelled, “Chloe, what the hell is wrong with you?!”
I flinched at his yell, turning my head. The smile was still on my lips, but tears were falling pathetically down my face. “Sean, there is something wrong with me. I’m sick.”
As I said this, my peripheral vision was entirely focused on her. She was so beautiful, so confident; even the sunlight seemed to favor her.
“Sean, let me guess. Right now, are you thinking… thank God I’m the one who’s sick, and not her?”
3
I insisted on boarding my flight; Sean insisted I couldn’t. We ended up causing such a scene at the airport that even Audrey got dragged to the airport police station for questioning.
Coming out of the station after giving our statements, I was still mourning the cost of my plane ticket. Sean tried to drag me home by the hand.
I shook him off and took two steps back. “That’s not my home.”
“Chloe, haven’t you made enough of a scene?” Sean had completely lost his patience. He said coldly, “Our engagement party is the day after tomorrow. I’ve already sent out the invitations. Who are you throwing this tantrum for?”
“Oh, so you do remember we have an engagement party the day after tomorrow.” I let out a bitter laugh, turning my gaze to Audrey. I didn’t even need to speak; the sarcasm was practically overflowing.
Hearing the words “engagement party,” Audrey also looked up at Sean, a fleeting look of loneliness crossing her face. “Sean, you’re… congratulations.”
The moment his eyes met Audrey’s, Sean’s expression looked exactly like heartbreak.
They say when the ex cries, the current girlfriend loses. Well, here I was—the ex didn’t even shed a tear, and I had still lost completely.
Whatever. I’m done playing this game.
I hailed a cab, leaving my suitcase behind, and told the driver to go.
I saw Sean subconsciously take two steps after me, his face dark. But in the end, he turned and went to drive Audrey home, leaving my suitcase abandoned on the curb.
Nobody wanted it.
I pulled my gaze away, my nose burning with the urge to cry.
“Miss, fighting with your boyfriend?”
The driver glanced in the rearview mirror and gossiped, “Men, you know, they’re bound to have wandering eyes. As long as he has you in his heart, that’s what matters. You can’t push a man too hard, it just drives him further away. You just need to coax him a little and it’ll be fine.”
I rubbed my nose. “Sir, please don’t try to talk me out of it. I’m taking a cab home to get an axe. If you talk me out of chopping him up, I’ll have to chop you up instead.”
“…”
The driver immediately shut his mouth, and the car finally fell silent.
As we reached a downtown mall, I suddenly asked him to pull over. The driver dropped me off, muttered a curse, and sped away.
I looked up, took a deep breath of the bustling city air, and decided to go on a wild shopping spree.
However, once inside the mall, I lost interest and just sat blankly on a bench. Suddenly, I snapped out of my daze, my eyes locking onto Sean’s dark ones.
Of course, he hadn’t come looking for me. He was there accompanying Audrey on a shopping trip.
Beside Audrey was an older couple. The four of them were laughing and chatting together, looking like a picture-perfect family from an advertisement.
That was something I had never had in my entire life.
Seeing me as well, Sean’s face clearly displayed a look of blame, as if to say, ‘Are you haunting me?’
But before he could speak, the older woman beside Audrey suddenly became agitated: “Sparky? Sparky?”
Tears streamed from the woman’s eyes as she practically threw herself at me, trembling. “Is it you, Sparky? Sparky, my Sparky!”
“It’s really… it’s really Sparky…” The woman’s husband also recovered from his shock, his wrinkled, red eyes brimming with emotion.
Audrey, meanwhile, was stunned. She looked at her parents, then at me, her chest suddenly heaving violently. “S-sister?”
Sean was frozen, and I stood rooted to the spot.
What kind of plot twist was this?
I took a step back to avoid Audrey’s mother. “I’m sorry, ma’am, you have the wrong person. I know Audrey and I look very much alike, but I grew up in an orphanage…”
I paused mid-sentence.
“My poor Sparky…” Audrey’s mother cried so hard she couldn’t stand. Audrey’s father barely managed to support her, his graying temples seemingly drooping with exhaustion.
“Do you remember the carnival when we were little?” Audrey wiped her tears furiously. “The carnival Mom took us to. Because we were throwing a tantrum, Mom bought us each a…”
“A little hamster in a red bamboo basket.”
“A little hamster in a red basket.”
I instinctively finished the sentence, speaking almost simultaneously with Audrey.
Audrey’s mother cried out “My Sparky,” clutching her chest tightly, practically fainting on the spot.
Memories that had been forcefully sealed away for years suddenly burst open, and my entire consciousness blurred. “I remember… I remember that carnival. Because the little hamster ran away, I let go of someone’s hand to chase it. Then someone picked me up… I think I slept for a while, and was taken to a lot of places… and then my last memory is being in the orphanage…”
My eyes glazed over, as if I were dreaming. “Are you… are you really my family?”
Audrey grabbed my hand and nodded frantically, crying so hard she couldn’t even speak. All that elegance and composure vanished in an instant.
As I slowly pulled my hand back, I realized I was already crying.
I looked at Sean, then at Audrey, and finally at Audrey’s parents. Suddenly, I broke into a wide grin. “But why did it take you until now to find me? Did you know…”
“I’m about to die.”
4
From as early as I can remember, I lived in an orphanage—a cage filled with gloom and bitterness.
Fortunately, I met a wonderful teacher in elementary school who guided me onto the right path, teaching me optimism and cheerfulness.
I liked to laugh out loud, I liked to play harmless jokes, and I liked to joke around while laughing out loud.
Until I met Sean.
It was at the freshman orientation gala. Sean was the student representative and the host, wearing a dark blue suit, standing tall and straight, his eyes bright as stars.
It’s no exaggeration to say that just standing there, he was the brightest boy, the most heart-stopping moonlight.
In that moment, I felt like my soul had been stolen by him.
Of course, I wasn’t the only freshman whose soul was stolen by Sean that night. The girls swarmed him, but off-stage, Sean was like a block of ice—a block of ice with a bad temper.
So you can imagine, when that block of ice melted only for you, it wouldn’t be surprising if you went a little crazy.
Sean rejected every girl who asked for his WeChat, walked straight toward me through the crowd, and quietly asked if we could exchange numbers.
I almost lost my mind on the spot.
Back then, I thought that encounter was because of love, because of fate, or maybe even a connection from a past life.
Now the answer was revealed: it was because of bloodlines.
Because I was biological sisters with his first love. There was no more perfect “stand-in” for her in this world than me.
Sean really was life’s favorite. If he couldn’t have the younger sister, life handed him the older one.
That day at the mall, when I publicly announced my impending death, Audrey’s mother fainted immediately, her father wept bitter tears, and Audrey slumped to her knees, unable to accept it.
Even the look Sean gave me was one I had never seen before…
Shock? Unease? Panic? Heartache?
A single word couldn’t describe that look.
“Affection that comes too late is cheaper than dirt.”
Audrey held my hand, her eyes swollen like peaches.
She had been like this for the past two days: red-eyed, clinging to me.
“Affection that comes too late is cheaper than dirt, sis,” Audrey repeated. “Don’t look back. He’s not worth it.”
I smiled. “I thought you really liked him? Weren’t you looking pretty lonely outside the airport when you heard he was getting engaged?”
“I’m sorry, sis, I’m so sorry…”
Audrey’s tears started falling again. “I know I was acting like a total bitch back then. I clearly didn’t like Sean, but because he was always chasing after me, suddenly hearing he was marrying someone else made me feel like something of mine was being stolen. I thought I’d just flirt with him a little to disgust you on purpose… I really didn’t know it was you back then!”
“I saw you and thought you looked really familiar, but I just assumed Sean had deliberately found a ‘stand-in.’ So it made sense that your features were similar to mine. I even thought to myself, Sean is really good at playing the devoted lover if he could find someone who looked so much like me. I even felt a sense of contempt and superiority deep down. I… I was wrong, I was so wrong, sis!”
Audrey cried as she tried to explain, gripping my hand tightly, terrified I would pull away again.
But I could understand what she was saying.
It’s like a spoiled kitten—sometimes they just have to knock over a water glass with childish behavior to prove their place in a human’s heart.
Because she didn’t know it was me, Audrey naturally felt entitled to enjoy being favored. She subconsciously wanted to show off her superiority as the “first love.”
But once she knew it was me, she could no longer feel a shred of superiority, only overwhelming guilt.
Human double standards have always been like this.
Bzzzt, bzzzt, bzzzt…
The phone on the table was vibrating like crazy. I clicked it open and saw it was all messages from Sean.
Sean said he had already booked the best doctor for me, that my illness could definitely be cured. He said he wouldn’t break up with me because of this, and that he would still marry me.
I watched the messages roll in one after another. Audrey watched me nervously, terrified I would soften.
I just found it fascinating. Turns out Sean had such a passionate, proactive side to him too.
In the past, I’d send him dozens of messages and he’d reply to one, and I’d carefully save every single reply, grinning like an idiot over them when I had nothing else to do.
Honestly, I hadn’t planned on telling Sean about my illness this early.
I wanted to leave quietly, die quietly, so that one day when Sean realized he could never find me again, he would stumble upon my gravestone, engraved with the joke: “Surprise! She’s already dead!”
His expression at that moment would surely be priceless.
Bzzzt, bzzzt.
The phone showed an incoming call again. I pushed the phone toward Audrey, and she simply put it on speaker:
“Hello.”
Hearing Audrey’s voice, Sean clearly paused. “Audrey, give the phone back to Chlo… give it back to your sister. I need to talk to her.”
But Audrey asked her own question: “Sean, do you like me? Do you want to be with me?”
The other end of the line fell silent.
The living first love versus the dying memory—choosing between them must be really tough for him, right?
“Stop messing around, Audrey.”
Sean’s voice was full of exasperation, not blame, as if dealing with a spoiled little girl. “This isn’t the time for this. Where’s your sister? She’s still throwing a tantrum at me. I’ll come find her in a bit.”
I suddenly leaned close to the phone and repeated, word for word: “How much damage can a guy’s ‘first love’ actually do? My current girlfriend was just diagnosed with a terminal illness. All I can think is: thank God she’s just a lookalike, and not her.”
“…”
Beep.
After a moment of silence on the other end, Sean hung up the phone.
“Scumbag!” Audrey immediately blocked his number, trembling with anger. “Why didn’t I realize he was such a bastard before!”
Because humans are the most selfish animals. Before their own interests are threatened, everyone is a “good person.”
I smiled indifferently and turned the phone off completely.
The living first love versus the dying memory. Which one to choose? He must be in quite a dilemma right now, huh?
But he doesn’t need to worry. Because no matter which one…
Neither of us will choose him.
5
Surprisingly, the ones who found me faster than Sean were Audrey’s parents.
Or rather, my biological parents.
Maybe there really is some sort of connection between blood relatives. They didn’t even ask me to take a DNA test; they recognized me as their lost daughter with just one look.
But to me, blood is just blood; it doesn’t equate to family. Family bonds can only be built on time and companionship. They are irreplaceable.
And without that bond, they were no different from strangers to me.
However, when those two people, both over fifty, knelt before me, begging me not to give up on treatment, begging me to try other options… my heart still ached.
I tried to pull them up, my tear ducts losing control.
I couldn’t get them to stand, so I could only kneel down with them, tears blurring my vision.
How was I supposed to explain to these two elderly people, who had just found their lost child, that they were about to face the pain of losing her all over again?
When my life expectancy was down to just three months, I didn’t want to waste that time in sterile hospital rooms, enduring endless, agonizing chemotherapy, just to gamble on a one-in-a-ten-thousand chance of survival.
How was I supposed to explain to myself why, looking back on my past, I realized I had wasted my entire twenty-something years?
It’ll be better after midterms… it’ll be better after graduation… it’ll be better once I find a job… it’ll be better once I get married and have kids…
My time was spent either surviving or waiting, as if my life would only become happy and fulfilling after passing some arbitrary milestone.
It wasn’t until death was at my doorstep that I suddenly realized I had never done a single thing for myself in this lifetime.
Even the love I fought so hard for was just me being a placeholder for someone else.
As the song of my life dwindled down to its final three movements, I finally gathered the courage to take the conductor’s baton for myself.
So, I wasn’t seeking death; I was seeking life.
For my last three months, I wanted to truly live for myself…
But could I?
I cried like a mess, my words jumbled and incoherent.
I originally thought my parents would firmly object, using their status as the ones who brought me into this world to forbid me from acting so recklessly.
But instead, they said “Okay.”
Even though they were crying a river of tears, even though they seemed to age ten years in the blink of an eye, they still said “Okay.”
They said, “No matter what you choose, we will always love you.”
I froze, and then, I sobbed uncontrollably.
It turns out, I actually had really wonderful parents.
It turns out, my life could have been really happy.
Once everyone had calmed down, my mom held my hand tightly and showed me photos from when I was little.
In the pictures, her younger self was holding two chubby little bundles, smiling radiantly.
She pointed at an old photo and laughed, “Look at this one, Sparky. Your dad was trying to change your diaper for the first time, but he couldn’t tell the front from the back, and you ended up smearing poop all over his face…”
As she laughed, her emotions broke down again. She cried, her mouth wide open but no sound coming out. Yet I could tell she was screaming, “My Sparky.”
How was she supposed to accept this kind of ending? She’s a mother… she’s a mother!
Having to watch her own child march toward death—how could she bear it?
My dad held my devastated mom, his cloudy eyes suppressing tears. He smiled kindly and waved me off. “Go on. Go do what you want to do. Audrey, spend more time with your sister. All these years… she’s had it hard, all alone.”
This sudden outpouring of care made me want to run away. My heart felt like a towel being wrung out, throbbing with pain.
Audrey followed closely behind me. Her hands and feet were weak, but she still managed to look up at me and smile. “Sis, where are we going?”
I took a few deep breaths to calm the throbbing pain. After thinking for a moment, I still asked the question: “If they love me so much, why didn’t they ever come looking for me?”
Audrey’s eyelashes fluttered, and she told me the story of what happened back then.
It turned out that when I got lost at the carnival, my mom immediately started looking for me and called the police. Witnesses said they saw me being carried away, and the police managed to track down the license plate of the kidnappers’ car.
However, by the time they found the car, it had been involved in a major accident out of state. The gas tank exploded. All that was left in the wreckage was the charred body of an adult in the driver’s seat… and the charred body of a toddler in the trunk, burned beyond recognition.
All the evidence pointed to me being kidnapped and then dying in the car crash. But my parents always firmly believed I was still alive.
My mom quit her job and put up missing person posters everywhere. My previously healthy dad developed all sorts of illnesses practically overnight.
If it weren’t for their younger daughter, Audrey, being there, the couple wouldn’t have survived until today.
I tried desperately to recall my past. I did remember being placed in the passenger seat. After that, I slept for a long time. Maybe because I wasn’t crying or making a fuss, the person got out of the car midway and left me alone.
Not long after, another person got into the car. Seeing me, he seemed very surprised. He carried me out of the car, put me in a small corner, and my last memory was of the back of a car driving away.
Thinking about it now, it’s very likely the kidnappers ran into a car thief. The car thief threw me out of the passenger seat, but didn’t notice there was another kidnapped child in the trunk.
In the end, the car thief got into an accident, and because of that, I escaped being trafficked and ended up in an orphanage instead.
I really did experience all the coincidences in the world.
And with a life like this, was I lucky, or unlucky?
I couldn’t figure it out, and I didn’t have the time to try.
At least for the days I had left, I wanted to be happy.
I pulled out a crumpled piece of loose-leaf paper and unfolded it. The top prominently read four big words:
“Bucket List”
Audrey looked over, and I explained, “I wrote this back when I was 18. I had just watched the movie The Bucket List and thought it was fun, so I copied the idea and wrote one too. Who knew I’d actually need to use it someday? Good thing I didn’t throw it away.”
Saying that, I pulled out a lipstick and crossed out the first three items on the paper:
Live to be 100.
Travel the whole world.
Marry the person I love most.
I put the lipstick away and smiled at Audrey. “Not bad. A good start is half the battle. I’ve already crossed three wishes off the list so fast.”
Audrey covered her mouth tightly, her thick sobs making her words come out squeaky. “Sorry… Sis, I need to go to the bathroom.”
I watched Audrey stumble away, the smile on my lips slowly fading.
Was it because I hadn’t joked around in so long that my skills were rusty? Why did my jokes only make people cry now?
“Chloe.”
I was lost in thought when I heard the voice behind me—the voice I used to long for even in my dreams.
I turned around and looked at Sean.
He was wearing a black trench coat. His tall, lean figure standing there was a sight to behold.
Seeing my bloodshot eyes, Sean reached out to take my hand, his voice gentle enough to melt ice. “Baby, let’s go to the hospital. Be a good girl.”
I pulled my hand back and stepped away. “Piss off.”
Sean stiffened but still tried to coax me. “Baby, I was wrong before. I apologize. That comment was just a joke. I didn’t know you were really… I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to curse you. I had a little to drink that day, and I don’t even know where I copy-pasted that sentence from. I didn’t mean it. Can you forgive me, baby?”
I stuck with my original statement: “Piss off.”
Sean’s face finally darkened. “Chloe, I understand you’re in a bad mood because you’re sick, but can you stop throwing childish tantrums? I heard from Mr. Davis that you’re planning to refuse treatment. Taking it out on your own body just to spite me—is that really worth it? Is that fair to Mr. Davis and your mom?”
More guilt-tripping?
I grinned. “Life is as short as a fart. As long as I’m enjoying myself, that’s all that matters.”
Sean froze, then frowned, clearly displeased with my “vulgar language.” “Chloe, can you stop acting so neurotic all the time? Look at Audrey. A refined lady like her is much more likable.”
I dropped my smile. “Sean, did you know? I actually heard the name ‘Audrey’ a long time ago.”
Sean stiffened.
“That day, you had a little to drink too. You were drunk, holding me, and kept mumbling ‘Audrey’, ‘Audrey’. But the funny part is, I actually thought you were reciting poetry. A sudden look back, and there she is, in the dim, fading light… Ah.”
I stared at him, without a trace of a smile. “When you looked back, who did you actually see? The fading light, or Audrey?”
Sean’s face turned pale. He murmured, “Chloe,” his hand hovering mid-air, trying to reach for me.
Even though he was within arm’s reach, it felt like we were separated by life and death.
“Sean, tell me the truth. Did you ever love me? Just me, pure and simple, not as a replacement for anyone else?” I looked at him pleadingly. “You don’t want me to take your lies to the grave, do you? I just want the truth.”
Sean lowered his eyes and turned his head. He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse. “You… are more suitable for marriage.”
I let out a soft “Ah.” The silence in my chest was terrifying.
It turns out that when a person is about to die, the first thing to go is the heart.
And right at that moment, Audrey came sprinting over, her eyes red, and planted a kick square in Sean’s back—
“Go fuck yourself! Stay away from my sister!”
Sean stumbled forward from the kick. When he turned around and saw it was Audrey, his face was a picture of shock. “Audrey?”
And Audrey, the “refined lady” he just praised, was shielding me with one hand and pointing right at Sean’s nose with the other, screaming at him: “You disgusting piece of trash, stop pretending to be so devoted! You want your cake and to eat it too. White rose, backup plan—you’re just playing games and you actually got addicted to it. You really think you’re some great romantic, don’t you?!”
“Audrey, stop.” I reached out to stop the enraged Audrey.
Seeing this, Sean looked slightly surprised, and even a little touched, as if he was seeing me for the first time.
But Audrey was anxious. “Sis, you can’t be soft on him! He’s just an empty shell of a scumbag! He can’t stand being lonely, but he wants to act like a devoted lover. He…”
“Audrey, don’t do that.”
I cut her off, shaking my head gently. “Don’t just use your words without using your hands.”
Audrey stared blankly. Sean looked even more incredulous.
I took out my lipstick and crossed out the fourth item on the list:
4. Beat up a jerk.
I gave Sean a radiant smile. “Sean, I will take my disgust for you to the grave.”
Then, I kicked him hard.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “411844”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
Five years ago, I stayed in Europe to study medicine just for him.
He said he would wait for me, that he wouldn’t marry anyone else in this lifetime.
Five years later, when I returned home with a treatment plan I had painstakingly researched, he was eating a rich cheese pastry fed to him by another woman.
1
Rowan Hayes had always been a quiet, aloof person. Partly because he was naturally introverted, and partly because he had suffered from a chronic illness since childhood, meaning intense emotional fluctuations were dangerous for him.
Having grown up with him, I knew this better than anyone.
So, when I saw the smile reaching his eyes as he looked at Lily Evans, a deep sense of unease settled in my chest.
I hadn’t changed my flight to come home early just to watch this scene unfold.
Rowan and Lily were sitting on a bench in the courtyard of his villa. Lily was holding a piece of cheese pastry right up to Rowan’s lips, looking eager.
Though Rowan was frowning slightly, his body language showed no sign of pulling away. In fact, a faint smile was creeping onto his lips as he watched her playful, impulsive behavior.
“Rowan.”
I called out softly. One second he was opening his mouth to take a bite, and the next, he whipped his head around, staring at me in disbelief.
His eyes overflowed with confusion, joy, shock, and a sliver of panic.
“Harper!”
Before I could even react, Rowan had crossed the distance and pulled me into a tight embrace.
He leaned down, holding me tighter and tighter. I could feel his emotions rushing toward me like a flood.
For five years, his embrace was what I had missed the most.
The joy of our reunion momentarily took over, making me briefly forget the uncomfortable scene I had just witnessed.
“Harper, it’s been five years. You’re finally back…”
“I missed you so much I thought I’d go crazy!”
Rowan’s voice was hoarse. Though his face rarely showed much emotion, the burning intensity in his eyes made me blush. He rarely got this worked up, but right now, the hands gripping my shoulders were trembling violently.
“Yeah, I’m back.”
Afraid he might lose control, I reached out and stroked the back of his hand to soothe him.
I had to admit, I loved it when Rowan showed emotion because of me. Whenever he did, his love for me spilled over without reservation.
But mild emotional fluctuations were fine; anything too intense, and I worried it would trigger his illness.
As Rowan and I gazed deeply at each other, lost in the moment, I finally noticed Lily. She had stood up from the bench and walked over to stand beside him.
I was instantly reminded of their intimate interaction just moments ago.
“Rowan, who is this?”
It was only when I asked the question that I realized the woman standing in front of me looked incredibly similar to me. So similar, in fact, that even I might have mistaken her for my own sister at first glance.
It clicked instantly.
During the five years I was gone, Rowan had found a knockoff to keep him company.
The atmosphere instantly dropped below freezing. Rowan seemed to realize that letting me see Lily wasn’t a good thing. He shot me a panicked look but still opened his mouth to explain.
“Harper, her name is Lily Evans. She’s a pre-med student at State University. A student I sponsored three years ago.”
Three years ago?
Now that he mentioned it, I had a vague memory of it. He had brought it up in passing during a FaceTime call back then.
But he never mentioned that this Lily Evans looked so much like me.
“You sponsor a student, and now she’s sponsored all the way into your house?” My tone was entirely flat, but a heavy stone was definitely lodging itself in my chest.
“It’s not like that, Harper…” Rowan was visibly panicking. He grabbed my hand to explain, “She just came to drop something off today.”
I glanced at the open box on the patio table. Several individually wrapped pastries were scattered around it.
“Yes… because my paper won an award, my professor gave them to me. Please don’t misunderstand.”
Lily kept her head down, seemingly afraid to look at me, but she still stammered out an explanation. “I’ve never had this kind of pastry before, and I figured Mr. Hayes probably hadn’t either, so I brought them over as a small thank-you gift…”
Her voice got quieter and quieter until I couldn’t hear the rest.
Rowan was the CEO of a publicly traded company. Who in their right mind would think there was an expensive pastry out there he hadn’t seen before?
“Harper, it’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Rowan lowered his eyes. Paired with his sharp, aristocratic nose, he really was handsome. Sweat was pooling in his palms as he held my hand; I could tell he was incredibly tense.
I didn’t want to put too much strain on his heart.
“Alright, I believe you.” I forced a relaxed smile. “But Rowan, you should avoid eating high-cholesterol foods like cheese pastries. Your condition has finally stabilized a bit these past few years. I don’t want you getting sick again.”
Seeing that I wasn’t angry, the tension between Rowan’s brows finally smoothed out. He turned to look at Lily. A complex emotion flashed through his eyes, but he quickly returned to normal, using the cold tone he reserved for outsiders. “It’s getting late. You can go back now.”
Lily’s head snapped up. She looked at him in disbelief, her expression slowly shifting to crushing disappointment.
“But the pastries…”
“Miss Evans, what’s your specialty at the medical university?”
Hearing my random question, both of them looked at me in confusion.
Lily pressed her lips together and whispered, “Cardiology.”
“Then you should know that patients with IPAH shouldn’t consume foods high in cholesterol, right?”
Lily stared at me blankly for a moment before something seemed to click. Looking utterly defeated, she turned back to pack up the pastries on the table, putting them in her bag one by one.
“I’m sorry… I’ll take my leave now.”
As she brushed past me, I noticed her lift a hand to wipe away tears.
Winning an award for a paper, yet not even knowing that IPAH patients can’t eat high-cholesterol foods? The academic standards at State University really seemed to be slipping.
“Rowan, since I’m back this time…”
I was just about to tell him that I had fully graduated and didn’t need to leave again. But when I looked up, I saw him staring blankly in the direction Lily had gone.
My heart sank.
I didn’t finish my sentence. I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and walked straight into the house.
When Rowan snapped out of it and realized I was already walking ahead, he recognized his slip-up. Looking guilty, he rushed forward and grabbed my suitcase.
“Harper, let me get that!”
I didn’t fight him for it. The suitcase wasn’t that heavy anyway.
We walked into the house in silence, right up until the housekeeper, Maria, greeted us at the door with a beaming smile.
She didn’t know what had just transpired outside in those few short minutes, but she could probably guess who it was about.
Because there was no way I believed Lily had only come to the Hayes estate today.
Today’s little drama was quite the “surprise” to come home to.
2
“Harper, what happened today wasn’t what you thought.”
During dinner that evening, Rowan was the first to break the silence.
“She really is just a student I sponsored. That’s all.”
Rowan looked up at me, his eyes pleading. “Please don’t be angry because of her, okay?”
“What’s with her face?” I asked. “I leave home for five years, and when I come back, I find you two acting intimately, sharing food. And it was food I explicitly warned you not to eat. Do you expect me not to be mad?”
My tone was harsh. It was then that Rowan realized I wasn’t just throwing a petty tantrum. Panic seized him, and after a long moment, he leaned over and grasped my wrist.
“Harper, I admit, I sponsored her through college because she looks so much like you. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d overthink it. But there is absolutely nothing going on between Lily and me.”
“Rowan, let me ask you something. If I hadn’t spoken up to stop you today, would you have eaten that pastry from her hand?”
I stared stubbornly into his eyes. His eyes were as dark as ink; anyone looking into them would be involuntarily drawn in. But looking at them now, I just wanted to cry.
Hearing my voice crack, Rowan’s expression finally broke. His eyes filled with heartache as he pulled me into his arms.
“I’m so sorry, Harper. I was wrong. Please don’t cry, okay…”
“You’re unbelievable, Rowan. Who do you think I went to Europe for? Who do you think I went to medical school for? Do you know how hard med school is? And what’s the first thing I see when I get back! I see you eating some cheap pastry she gave you…”
He coaxed me softly in my ear, but I was like a broken dam. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing. It was as if I wanted to pour out all the grievances of the last five years at once.
Rowan clumsily tried to kiss me, but I pushed him away. He resorted to gently wiping my tears with his thumbs.
This was the tenderness he never showed anyone else, a tenderness that belonged only to me.
I don’t know how long I cried. I cried until I was dizzy, and Rowan carried me to the bathroom to wash my face, then laid me down on the soft bed.
“Harper…”
Rowan propped himself up to kiss me. I caught the faint scent of cedarwood on him. It was intoxicating.
“Rowan…” I pushed against his chest as he leaned in. “Are you thinking about something you shouldn’t be?”
“…”
Rowan’s ears instantly turned bright red, and he turned his head away, too embarrassed to look at me.
But that put my mind at ease.
He was still the same Rowan. The Rowan who looked cold and arrogant to the world, but turned into a blushing mess whenever it came to me.
I looped my arms around his neck and kissed him gently. What I got in return was a deep kiss that was anything but hesitant.
It had been five years. We had both waited too long for this day.
After that, we didn’t bring up Lily Evans again. We settled into the Hayes estate, picking up the life we had planned five years ago.
Unfortunately, the peaceful days didn’t last long.
Not long after I started my residency at the city hospital, Rowan’s old symptoms suddenly flared up. Shortness of breath, tachycardia. He collapsed in the underground parking lot of his company.
When he was rushed to the hospital, I was in the middle of a heated debate at a medical conference with a senior professor. By the time the conference ended in the afternoon, I finally heard that an emergency patient had been brought in that morning.
However, the first person I saw wasn’t Rowan in his hospital bed, but Lily Evans, pacing anxiously outside his room.
Hearing my footsteps, she looked over joyfully, but when she realized it was me, the light in her eyes died.
I had to admit, seeing her face was still jarring. It was like looking into a blurred mirror.
But I didn’t have time to deal with her right now.
I walked past her straight into the room. Nurse Sarah was monitoring Rowan’s blood pressure.
“Dr. Brooks…”
“How is the patient? Has he regained consciousness since he was brought in this morning?” I asked.
“Not yet. But after putting him on oxygen, his blood pressure and oxygen saturation have returned to normal.”
Looking at Rowan lying in the hospital bed with an oxygen mask, my heart ached terribly.
“He’s stable for now. You can go back to your duties, Sarah. I’ll take care of him here.” I gave her a faint smile.
Sarah nodded, but before leaving, she hesitated and glanced at me.
“Is there a problem?” Was there another symptom they hadn’t told me about? “Dr. Brooks, I know it’s not my place, but that girl at the door has been standing there for a long time. Is she your sister?”
I subconsciously looked toward the door. Sure enough, Lily was still standing there.
Who exactly was keeping her from coming in? I smiled bitterly and shook my head. Sarah didn’t ask any more questions and left.
Rowan lay on the bed. Even though his vitals were stable, he just wouldn’t wake up.
It reminded me of a rainy night six years ago when Rowan had collapsed without warning just like this.
That was when I first learned about Idiopathic Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension (IPAH). There was no absolute cure for it, which was why I made the firm decision to go to Switzerland, where some of the most advanced research on the disease was happening.
“Didn’t I tell you to leave? Why are you still standing here like a pole?”
“Mr. Miller, please just let me go in and see him. I’m really worried about him…”
“Worried my ass. Who do you think you are? Get lost, go on, shoo! You’re blocking the doorway!”
“Mr. Miller…”
“Stop yelling! This is a hospital ward. Take it outside…”
Hearing the commotion, I walked over and saw Lily arguing with a man holding a bouquet and a fruit basket.
“Harper Brooks?”
The man’s shocked voice made me turn to look at him. Thick eyebrows, big eyes, dyed blonde hair, wearing a black jacket covered in straps and chains.
That flashy, avant-garde style, combined with that face…
“Chase… Chase Miller?”
“Ha! You remember! Five years and I thought you forgot about me! When did you get back? I bumped into Rowan passed out in the parking lot this morning and brought him in. Anyway, how is he? Is he awake?”
His rapid-fire questions almost transported me back to our exhausting high school days. I smiled helplessly and stepped aside to let him in.
“Go see for yourself…” I said.
“Miss Brooks, please let me in too. Just one look at Mr. Hayes, just one… I’m so worried…”
Before Chase could respond, Lily grabbed my arm. Her eyes were filled with tears as she begged, drawing the attention of passing patients and nurses.
Lily was pretty (I mean, not to be narcissistic). Even though we looked alike, she possessed a pitiful, fragile aura that I completely lacked. Crying like that, it made it look as though I was the cold-hearted villain bullying her.
“Tsk, what is wrong with you?” Chase said. “You’re not family, you’re not a friend. Why should we let you visit? Besides, aren’t you a student? Rowan pays for your tuition, and you skip a whole day of classes on his dime? Get out of here. If you hang around any longer, it’ll be dark, your dorm will be locked, and you won’t even be able to get back!”
Chase’s rapid-fire delivery and sharp tongue made me wonder if he shouldn’t have majored in debate instead of art.
Lily’s face turned beet red. Faced with his humiliation, she fought hard to keep her tears from falling.
Chase shot me a triumphant smirk.
I shook my head helplessly.
“Har… Harper…”
Rowan’s weak voice came from the hospital room. I immediately rushed back inside.
Rowan was awake. He looked around in confusion until he saw me, then realized what had happened.
“Did I have another episode?” A bitter smile touched his lips.
My heart throbbed with pain. I lowered my eyes, trying to hide the tears welling up.
“It’s okay. You’ll be fine,” I comforted him, though I was also comforting myself.
“Alright, he’s awake. You can stop worrying now. Hurry up and leave, do you have zero situational awareness?”
Chase’s voice drifted in from the hallway, followed by the sound of Lily walking away, sobbing.
“What’s going on outside?” Rowan asked.
“It’s Chase. He’s the one who brought you to the hospital,” I paused. “And Lily Evans.”
Rowan didn’t say anything else, but the fleeting look of emotion in his eyes still stung me.
It seemed this matter was far from over.
3
“How is Rowan doing? Why did he suddenly have an episode?”
Shortly after waking up, Rowan fell back asleep. Chase pulled me out into the hallway and asked quietly.
“There’s still no case of his disease being completely cured,” I sighed. “With current medical technology, we can only rely on medication to stabilize his condition… When you found him, was there anyone else with him?”
Chase hesitated, looking at me as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t.
“Lily Evans?”
He nodded.
I knew it. “Uh, but don’t overthink it. She’s been staking out his office building for a long time. She just happened to catch him today.”
“You’re really good at making excuses for your bro,” I complained, feigning anger.
Chase panicked. “Tsk, I’m definitely on your side! Didn’t you see me roast that Lily girl until she was speechless just now?”
The image of Chase arguing with our high school principal suddenly popped into my head.
I laughed. “Alright, seriously though, thank you so much for today. I owe you a dinner.”
Chase grinned, scratching his head awkwardly. “It was nothing… but since you’re offering, I won’t say no!”
I waved at him helplessly as he left.
However, just as I saw Chase off and turned to head back to the room, I saw Lily standing pitifully off to the side.
Didn’t she leave? She really pulled a fast one on me.
“Do you need something?” I asked her expressionlessly.
“Miss Brooks…” Lily’s eyes were red, like a rabbit’s. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“I…”
Like someone who had been holding back grievances for a long time and finally snapped, Lily suddenly covered her face and burst into loud sobs.
“It’s all my fault. I said things that upset Mr. Hayes. I made him sick. If it weren’t for me… if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have collapsed… It’s all my fault…”
My mind went completely blank.
“What did you say to him?” I tried my best to suppress my emotions, not wanting her to notice anything off about me.
Lily rubbed her red eyes. “I came today to say goodbye to Mr. Hayes. I wanted to go back to my hometown. My relatives found a pretty good match for me to marry, and then… he got so angry he yelled at me, and then he collapsed from the stress…”
I didn’t know what to say for a moment.
In my memory, Rowan rarely got sick because of emotional fluctuations.
“Miss Evans, you don’t need to cry.” I smiled faintly. “Rowan probably had an episode because he inhaled fumes. It was an underground parking garage, after all. There’s a lot of exhaust.
“But Miss Evans, what you said is infuriating. Rowan sponsored your education for so many years, and you want to drop out to go back and get married? Isn’t that making all his efforts a waste? You should focus on your studies and not let us down.”
Probably not expecting such a calm reaction from me, Lily looked up, staring at me in shock.
I put on a look of concern. “Is it your relatives forcing you to go back and get married? Do you need me to introduce you to a lawyer?”
Lily froze for a moment, then forced a smile. “No, no need.”
I didn’t say anything more to her and turned back into the hospital room.
Rowan was still sleeping, his breathing even.
But I felt like I was suffocating.
I had never doubted Rowan’s feelings for me.
After all, we had known each other for twenty-two years.
We were childhood sweethearts, having met when we were four.
In my memory, before he turned seventeen, Rowan didn’t like smiling at others, and he never smiled at me.
I figured back then, to him, I was probably just the daughter of his father’s friend. Even though we had been in the same classes since elementary school, we rarely actually spoke.
When Rowan was seventeen, disaster struck his family. His father was reported for financial fraud. Shareholders pulled their investments overnight, the company was shut down and investigated, and his business partners absconded with the funds. The Hayes Corporation became the target of public outrage. Added to the cash flow problems, the Hayes family went bankrupt.
At the time, Rowan’s mother had already been in the hospital for over a year due to health issues. Neither father nor son told her what happened. In the end, his father sold their house at a heavy discount just to scrape together enough money for her surgery.
But when you’re at your lowest, tragedies tend to pile on.
Rowan’s mother made it off the operating table safely, but died of sudden cardiac arrest shortly after.
It was a common surgical risk; no one was to blame for the tragedy.
But the sorrow didn’t end there. The night his mother died, another body appeared below the Hayes Corporation building. His father had jumped.
By the time my family rushed over, Rowan was standing in the morgue, staring blankly at the bodies of his parents.
My father stepped forward and held him tightly; my mother pulled me close, crying uncontrollably.
At the funeral, Rowan didn’t cry. Like always, he was just silent, watching the friends and relatives who came to pay their respects with no joy and no sorrow.
The few friends his father had when he was alive didn’t show up. Although they claimed they were tied up with business, I knew they were just afraid of getting involved in the mess.
Despite the large number of relatives, not a single one offered to take in a seventeen-year-old Rowan.
We couldn’t bear to let him go back to that shabby rented apartment.
Rowan was in a daze, like a walking corpse. He slept quietly in our guest room that night.
My father said, if they won’t raise Rowan, I will.
And just like that, Rowan stayed at our house.
He still went to school and came home like usual. His grades were always at the top of the class, and he had an ever-growing list of admirers. He was as normal as could be, but I always felt that the more normal he acted, the more he was suppressing his true emotions.
I figured our house wasn’t where Rowan truly wanted to be.
My father seemed to notice this too. One day, he suddenly placed the keys to the Hayes family villa in front of Rowan.
A flicker of emotion finally crossed his deadened face.
He nodded, said thank you, took the keys, and left our house.
I knew my father was good to Rowan mostly to repay the debt of gratitude he owed Rowan’s father for giving him his start. But now, he truly cared for the boy from the bottom of his heart.
After Rowan moved back into the Hayes house, he stopped going to school.
He locked himself inside all day. Even when I went to drop off food, I could only leave it at the door. But days passed, and the food at the door remained untouched.
I suspected he was having suicidal thoughts.
“Rowan! Rowan!”
After losing count of how many times I failed to see him, I had no choice but to bang loudly on the floor-to-ceiling windows of the balcony.
No one answered.
Finally, I smashed a hole in the glass with a rock, stuck my arm in, unlocked the door, and went inside.
Probably hearing the noise, Rowan finally came downstairs.
He was wearing dirty clothes, enveloped in a cloud of gloom. He was much thinner than the last time I saw him, and a fine stubble covered his chin.
Although it was a false alarm, I was still furious. But before I could blow up, he grabbed me and dragged me toward the bedroom.
“What are you doing! I’m going to scream!”
I struggled in terror, but Rowan was tall and strong, and he literally dragged me all the way into the bedroom.
It’s over, I thought. Rowan’s suppressed his feelings for too long, he’s finally lost his mind. However, what awaited me wasn’t the horrifying scene I had imagined, but a shallow stinging sensation on the back of my hand.
Only then did I realize that the back of my hand had been cut by the glass at some point.
Rowan carefully disinfected my wound with a cotton swab. His clumsy yet gentle demeanor was as if he were handling a fragile, precious treasure.
It was right then that I realized I had a bit of a crush on him.
Later, I talked to him a lot. I told him he could stay home alone, and he didn’t have to go to school, but he absolutely had to eat properly.
I also told him that as long as he said he was sad, I would come over and stay with him until he was ready to face the world again.
That was the first time I saw Rowan smile, and also the first time I saw him cry like a child.
Later, when the investigation into his father’s case concluded, it was proven that the rumors were malicious lies.
The rumor mongers were arrested, but Rowan’s parents were never coming back.
It was also that day I learned Rowan had IPAH. He was rushed to the ER, and I was so terrified he would go in and never come out, just like his mother.
Thankfully, he was okay.
It was also from then on that I secretly changed my college major.
It was precisely because we had been through so much together that I had absolute confidence in our relationship.
I never imagined another woman appearing by Rowan’s side, much less that he would care excessively about any woman other than me.
But these five years seemed to have changed too much.
I was beginning to doubt.
A man I was afraid to even argue with because of his health had actually been hospitalized out of anger over another woman.
4
Rowan slept until early the next morning.
I had a nurse arrange some tests for him. As long as there were no major issues, he could be discharged.
I sat on a stool watching Rowan. He stared out the window, his brows furrowed slightly, lost in thought.
“Rowan, after you fell asleep yesterday, Lily Evans came by.” Actually, she had never left.
Rowan shot me a quick glance, then asked calmly, “Did she say anything?”
“She said thank you for all your help, and that she’s going home to get married.”
“Cough, cough…” Rowan clutched his chest and started coughing.
Normally, I would rush forward to coddle him, but now, I figured a few coughs wouldn’t kill him.
After all, he’d already passed out for her.
“How is that possible…” Rowan muttered to himself.
“Why wouldn’t it be possible?”
I fired back instantly: “Do you know her that well?”
“Harper…” Rowan looked at me, his face pale. “Do you really want to talk about this right now?”
“Fine, we won’t talk about it. You’re sick, after all.”
I didn’t want to bother with him anymore. I pulled off the pulse oximeter and turned to leave.
For whatever reason, Rowan grabbed my hand.
“Ever since she left the house that time, she’s been coming to the company a lot. Every time, I’ve had my assistant turn her away. I just didn’t expect her to follow me to the parking lot yesterday, and even say she wanted to…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. I turned to look at him, and he looked back at me, lost.
“She said she wanted to get married, and you were so furious you passed out.” I couldn’t help but find it funny.
“Rowan, just admit it.
“In the three years you’ve known her, you wavered.”
I shook off his hand and ignored his calls, told the nurses outside to keep an eye on him, and went back to my office.
Before returning to the States, I never imagined that I’d come home to face Rowan’s infidelity.
Those five years of sleepless nights and relentless studying felt like a complete joke.
I moved out of the Hayes estate.
At first, he stood outside my door saying a lot of sweet things, bringing up all our memories from high school. Listening to him, apart from sadness, I just felt a heavy weight on my heart.
He knew our best memories were from back then. But the more he made me reminisce, the more lost I felt.
Later, when he realized I wasn’t just throwing a tantrum, he panicked.
He started apologizing constantly, promising he would cut all ties with Lily, that he would never let her appear in front of me again, let alone near our lives.
My parents thought that since Rowan had admitted his mistake, and since nothing physical had actually happened with Lily, I should forgive him for the sake of our twenty years of history.
But how many times had I woken up in the middle of the night, the image of Rowan smiling tenderly at Lily flashing in my mind?
His smile was no longer exclusively mine, and his heart was slowly shifting away.
I really did love him hopelessly. Being able to endure five years in a foreign country was entirely because of him. But now, I was starting to doubt.
I was doubting if it was all worth it.
“Harper, today is your birthday. Can we please just see each other?”
After many days, Rowan’s voice had grown hoarse. He knocked on the door outside, but I ignored him.
“Okay… if you ever want to see me, just call. I have something I want to tell you too…”
Rowan’s desolate voice drifted in, followed by the sound of his heavy, retreating footsteps.
I wiped away the dried tear tracks on my face, ready to pull myself together, when I received a text.
It was from Chase.
Ever since I went abroad, I hadn’t had much contact with my old high school friend. Even when I did get news, it was through Rowan telling me how Chase was doing.
That familiar chat box blinked on my screen.
“Happy Birthday, Miss Brooks!”
Followed immediately by another text.
“When are you cashing in on that dinner you owe me? I’ve already picked out a super expensive restaurant ι(`?-?′)/”
His use of emoticons was so spot-on it gave me intense déjà vu.
I replied: “Let’s do today then. Are you free?”
Chase replied instantly: “? For real?”
Me: “For real, but if you’re too slow, this lady won’t wait around.”
This time, he didn’t reply for a long time.
By the time I got another message, he had already parked his car outside my door.
Still rocking that eye-catching blonde hair and edgy, loud clothes.
Seeing me, Chase lowered his sunglasses and gave me a cocky eyebrow raise: “Get in. I’m taking you out for a good time!”
“Humph.”
I sniffled slightly, opened the door, and got in. The car smelled faintly of paint.
“I think I’m taking you out for a good time, okay?”
“Alright, alright, Miss Brooks. You’re the boss. Where to?”
Chase tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, seemingly in a great mood.
For some reason, seeing Chase like this made me feel incredibly at ease.
So much had changed in the last five years, but Chase was still the same carefree guy he had always been.
“Pfft—”
“What are you laughing at?” Chase looked at me laughing uncontrollably, completely bewildered.
“Nothing… let’s go eat.” I said excitedly. “Let’s go somewhere with a huge menu!”
“A huge menu?”
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “411843”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
I decided to go all out and hide my pregnancy to join a reality dating show.
I thought I could just openly flirt with some cute, younger guys on the show.
But I never expected a certain someone to follow me there, corner me, and look at me with red eyes: “Whose child is it?”
1
Ethan and I got together because of an arranged marriage between our families.
He was a famous, A-list actor in the entertainment industry, while I was just a D-list “flower vase” – someone with a pretty face but no acting skills, constantly plagued by scandals.
Because of my looks, many actresses in the industry were jealous of me and secretly (and sometimes not-so-secretly) boycotted me.
As a result, my reputation in the industry was never great.
Ethan and I had a secret marriage. We kept things polite and respectful after tying the knot, but an unexpected accident led to us sleeping together once.
And it was that very accident that somehow got me pregnant.
Staring at the ultrasound report in my hand, I rubbed my eyes in disbelief.
Was this guy’s aim really that good?!
My hand rested on my stomach. Even though it was only a month along, knowing there was a baby inside me triggered a strange, wonderful shift in my mindset.
I pulled out my phone, ready to share the news with Ethan, only to be bombarded by a massive wave of entertainment news notifications.
#A-List Actress Audrey Hayes Returns, A-List Actor Ethan Carter Personally Picks Her Up From the Airport#
#What a Perfect Match! Actor Ethan Carter and Actress Audrey Hayes Look So Good Together!#
I clicked on the article and saw a photo of my husband, Ethan, walking side-by-side with a young woman.
The woman was beautiful, with long hair cascading down her back and a gentle smile on her fair, delicate face.
Countless netizens were commenting on how perfectly they matched and begging them to get together!
I knew about Audrey Hayes. She and Ethan went to the same acting school, and many fans shipped them as a couple.
Seeing this photo and the comments seriously pissed me off. I remembered Ethan’s public schedule.
A business trip?
So his so-called business trip was actually going to pick up another woman?
Even though our relationship was mostly formal, that didn’t give him a free pass to betray me.
Anger flared up inside me. Suddenly, my phone rang, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Hey? Sierra, there’s a small reality dating show, do you want to do it? I know it’s not a major production, but given our current situation, we can’t really afford to be picky…”
My manager, Valerie, sounded like she was preparing for a long, arduous persuasion, afraid I’d refuse. But before she could finish, I cut in: “I’ll do it.”
“Huh?” Valerie was stunned for a second.
I repeated, “I’ll take it. A dating show sounds great, why wouldn’t I do it?”
A smile crept onto my face, but it didn’t reach my eyes.
I swiped away the tabloid news about Ethan on my screen and shoved the ultrasound report into my bag.
2
Valerie told me the dating show was scheduled to film for two weeks.
I packed a few things and flew out to the production set with her.
I heard there were going to be six cast members in total: three men and three women, and the whole thing would be live-streamed.
To build hype, the production team hadn’t released the official cast list beforehand, meaning we wouldn’t know who else was on the show until we arrived on set.
To make a good first impression, I arrived super early, thinking I’d be the first one there.
Who knew that as soon as I showed up, a camera would be pointed right at me, followed by the director’s voice: “Let’s welcome our final cast member, Sierra!”
Me: “…”
I was inwardly sweating dropping, but outwardly, I raised my hand and gave a fake, overly-sweet wave to everyone.
“Sierra’s face is literally everything! I love her!”
“Ugh, so gross. She’s just a flower vase. What does she have besides a pretty face? Why did the show invite someone like her!”
I have excellent eyesight, and I caught the live comments flying across the screen instantly.
But my expression didn’t change.
I was in the entertainment industry to build character, anyway.
I walked into the small house the production team had prepared. There were six chairs, and five were already occupied.
B-list heartthrob Liam Davis, whom I had acted with in a drama once, had that classic “golden retriever” boy-next-door look and two cute dimples when he smiled.
Sweetheart idol Chloe Miller, who debuted from a survival show, was wearing a pink dress and a messy bun, looking incredibly sweet and approachable.
Seeing these two, my expression remained neutral.
But when I saw the three people sitting behind them, my eyes widened in shock.
Top idol Noah Sterling was winking at me.
Beside him was A-list actor Ethan Carter, and A-list actress Audrey Hayes.
Wasn’t this supposed to be a small, B-tier dating show? What were these three doing here?!
The moment I looked toward Ethan, I met a pair of dark, deep eyes filled with an unreadable emotion.
Before I could examine his expression, a figure in white blocked my view.
“Since everyone is here, let’s get started.”
Audrey casually positioned herself right between Ethan and me. A gentle smile played on her lips.
“Audrey is so beautiful! Her smile just melts my heart!”
“If we’re talking about looks, I still think Sierra is a level above.”
“Sierra is just a flower vase. Please don’t compare her to our Audrey, OK?!”
I pulled my gaze away from Ethan and suppressed my shock.
I still couldn’t understand why a top-tier actor like him would come on a small show like this.
But then it hit me: Ethan was a married man, and he was on a dating show! With Audrey, no less!
Were these two trying to date in plain sight?!
My face darkened.
3
The grouping began, using a random draw.
Noah ended up next to me. I heard him lower his voice and ask, “How have things been lately?”
Although his voice wasn’t picked up by his mic, his actions were caught on camera.
“Ahhh! What is Noah doing! Why is he talking to Sierra!”
“That little bitch! I knew she was a master manipulator!”
“Noah, stay away from that woman!”
As a top idol, Noah had a massive fanbase of obsessive fangirls. The moment he approached me, the live chat exploded.
“Why are you on this show?” I whispered back.
“I saw you were doing it, so I tagged along. Sis, your husband sure knows how to play the game. Trying to get paid to date on national TV?”
Noah winked at me exaggeratedly.
I forgot to mention, my real name is Sierra Sterling, and Sierra is just my stage name.
I rolled my eyes at Noah.
That was obviously impossible.
Ethan might have come on the show to date, but the person he wanted to date definitely wasn’t me.
The draw started, and I prayed inwardly that I wouldn’t be paired with Ethan.
But they say the more you try to avoid something, the more likely it is to happen.
Liam and Chloe were paired up. Noah and Audrey were paired up. And Ethan and I… were paired together.
“WTF! How is Ethan not paired with Audrey! I refuse to accept this draw!”
“Oh my god, Ethan got paired with that flower vase Sierra? She must be thrilled to death!”
I was standing closest to the monitor and saw the comments instantly.
I already had this inexplicable anger pent up inside me, probably made worse by the pregnancy hormones.
I couldn’t hold it back and snapped directly at the camera: “What do you mean I’d be thrilled to death to be paired with Ethan? Why don’t you say he would be thrilled to death to be paired with me?”
As soon as I said that, not only the set but the entire live chat went dead silent.
But a second later, an even more intense wave of comments flooded the screen.
“Oh my god, is this woman telling a joke? Is she possessed?”
“Sierra, do you even know the meaning of the word ‘shameless’?”
“Being paired with you, Ethan is probably thinking he has the worst luck in the world. How could he possibly be thrilled?”
“…”
Just a quick glance at the screen showed a massive wave of insults directed at me.
In the past, worried about my reputation, I would act carefully on camera, swallowing a lot of grievances.
But now, after clapping back, I felt so much better.
Whatever! I don’t rely on the entertainment industry to eat anyway. I’m just here for fun. If I can’t handle it anymore, I’ll just go home and inherit the family fortune!
Besides, I’m pregnant now. Holding onto anger is terrible for pregnant women!
Once I figured that out, I stopped caring entirely.
But to my utter shock, a deep voice echoed my words: “Yes, I’m thrilled to death.”
Not only was I stunned, but even the smile on Audrey’s face stiffened.
I saw Ethan’s dark, deep eyes staring intently at me, a flicker of an unidentifiable emotion dancing within them.
What the hell is this man doing!
Before I could recover, I heard a soft, gentle whisper near my ear: “Ethan is still the same as always, stepping in to help people out of awkward situations.”
I frowned. Audrey’s overly familiar use of his first name grated on my nerves.
Who needs Ethan’s help!
4
After the draw, the directors started assigning tasks.
To help the pairs build chemistry and bond, our housing and food would depend on completing tasks.
The directors brought us to the edge of a wooded area.
The first task was to collect firewood in the woods.
The pair that collected the most firewood would get first pick of the houses. The time limit was one hour.
When the timer started, I rushed into the woods. Ethan followed behind me at a leisurely pace.
I didn’t want to talk to him, so I bent down and started gathering wood.
However, mindful of my pregnancy, I didn’t dare move too vigorously or carry too much at once.
“You go sit and rest. I’ll get it. It’s dirty out here.”
As I was focusing on gathering wood, Ethan’s voice sounded right next to my ear.
I straightened up and looked around. Liam and Chloe were working hard nearby.
Noah’s team was just Noah working alone. Audrey was sitting on a rock admiring the scenery, showing no intention of getting her hands dirty.
“Why isn’t Audrey helping? Why is she just sitting there?”
“Gathering firewood is dirty work. Why should our Audrey have to do it?”
“Didn’t our Audrey already say she wasn’t feeling well? What’s wrong with resting for a bit?”
“The other two actresses are doing it, why can’t Audrey? Just watching Noah do all the work? So high-maintenance.”
“If you’re going to participate, then participate. If you can’t, then leave.”
I glanced at the live chat. Noah’s fans and Audrey’s fans were tearing each other apart.
I glanced at Ethan and scoffed: “What? Want me to draw the fire away from Audrey?”
This man was unbelievable! I never realized he was this awful before!
Ethan: “?”
I turned around, refusing to look at him, and went back to gathering wood.
The outer edges of the woods were pretty picked over, so I gradually went deeper in.
A rustling sound came from a bush ahead, and I instantly went on high alert.
They say there are often wild animals in the woods… could it be a wolf or a bear or something?
I looked around. I was the only one in this area.
Ugh, I’m scared…
Just as I was about to turn and run, a figure burst out of the bushes.
“Sis!”
Hearing that familiar voice, I jumped, then immediately let out a sigh of relief.
I was about to speak when I saw Noah point at the microphone clipped to my shirt.
I understood and turned it off.
“Sis, here, take all of this.”
Noah walked over and shoved all the firewood he had collected into my arms.
“Huh? If you give it all to me, what are you going to do?”
He was the only one working on his team.
“I’ll be fine, sis. I can sleep anywhere. But my sister can’t rough it.”
As Noah spoke, he winked at me and blew a kiss.
His exaggerated expressions made him look incredibly campy.
Knowing that the persona he maintained for his fans was that of a cool, aloof guy, seeing him act like this in front of me was too much.
I couldn’t take it and just punched him in the arm: “Talk normally.”
Noah howled and dropped the act.
But he still insisted on giving me the firewood.
Thinking about my brother working so hard while Audrey just sat there watching, I felt a surge of resentment.
I didn’t try to give it back and accepted it.
Time was almost up, so I headed back to base camp. The massive pile of wood in my arms drew everyone’s attention.
The director gave me a close-up shot, and I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve.
“Wow, I didn’t expect Sierra to be such a hard worker! With all that wood, she’s definitely getting first place!”
“I thought Sierra was just a delicate flower vase, but it turns out… the real delicate flower is someone else.”
“Hey, the commenter above me, we already said Audrey isn’t feeling well.”
“I didn’t even mention your Audrey. Why are you getting so defensive?”
“…”
Noah also collected some wood on his way back, but not much. Audrey looked at me, then at him, her face looking a little displeased. She subconsciously asked, “Why did you only get this much?”
That complaining tone instantly set off Noah’s fans in the live chat.
“Does Audrey have no shame?! Complaining that our Noah didn’t get enough?”
“Hahaha! She did absolutely nothing, and she has the nerve to complain about our Noah? Is Audrey a bitch or what?”
The moment Audrey said it, she realized her mistake. She quickly tried to backpedal: “Noah, I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t mind what kind of house we stay in…”
I rolled my eyes as I listened from the side.
I looked around for Ethan and realized that at some point, he had also gathered a massive pile.
I had what Noah gave me, but his was all gathered by himself, and it was more than Noah and mine combined.
Unsurprisingly, our team took first place. Liam and Chloe took second, and Noah and Audrey took third.
There were three types of houses.
A nice little two-story house, a single-story ranch, and a small, rustic cabin.
Since I was first, I got to choose the best one, so I picked the two-story house. Liam and Chloe chose the ranch.
Noah and Audrey had no choice but to take the rustic cabin.
That cabin had absolutely nothing inside except a single bed.
In contrast, my two-story house had two beds.
I naturally wasn’t going to let my brother sleep in the same bed as that woman. Just as I was about to tell Noah to come over tonight, I saw Audrey walk over to Ethan, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Ethan, could you guys share a room with me tonight? I haven’t been feeling well lately, and that house is drafty. I’m afraid I’ll catch a cold.”
Audrey coughed a few times as she spoke.
My expression instantly turned icy when I heard Audrey’s words.
If Ethan dared to agree today, I’d pack him up and throw him out!
5
“Sorry, I don’t have the authority to decide.”
I was slightly surprised.
Ethan actually refused?
When I looked over at him, Ethan was already looking at me.
I heard him say: “You can ask my partner.”
Ethan actually told Audrey to ask me?
I was stunned.
Audrey’s hands, hanging by her sides, involuntarily clenched into fists. Her face went from pale to green.
The public always said she and Ethan had a great relationship, and there were even rumors they were dating.
Only Audrey knew that she and Ethan had no special relationship at all.
Those rumors were just PR stunts she orchestrated herself.
But she and Ethan went to the same acting school, and he had never publicly rejected her or embarrassed her.
Now, he was blatantly slapping her in the face.
Audrey adjusted her emotions, and I saw her walking toward me.
Before she could speak, I quickly called out to Noah: “Noah, do you want to come stay in the two-story house with us tonight?”
“Sure thing,” Noah agreed immediately.
Audrey froze in her tracks.
“Does Sierra have no shame! What is she trying to pull!”
“Wow, what a move! Is she trying to keep Audrey from staying there?”
“What’s wrong with Sierra? I think she’s great. This is a reward they earned. She can invite whoever she wants.”
“Exactly, exactly. Inviting our Noah shows she has great taste. Some people do absolutely nothing and just want a free ride.”
In the live chat, Audrey’s fans tried to attack me, but Noah’s fans completely shut them down.
“I admit I was a little harsh on Sierra earlier, but looking at it now, she has great taste and knows how to choose.”
Audrey’s manager had been monitoring the live chat the whole time. Seeing so many people attacking Audrey, he glared at her, shooting her a warning look.
The situation was set. Audrey had no choice but to sleep in the rustic cabin by herself tonight.
The next task was to obtain food. Having learned her lesson, Audrey knew she couldn’t just sit around anymore.
Otherwise, she’d get roasted even worse.
She had originally wanted to portray a delicate, untouchable, pampered persona, but she failed miserably, and her persona completely collapsed.
Now, a lot of Noah’s fans were starting to hate Audrey.
Noah was a top-tier idol at the peak of his career; he had a massive fanbase.
6
The production team was somewhat generous. The food-gathering task wasn’t too difficult, and we finished it quickly.
Maybe it was because of the pregnancy and the exercise, but I was starving.
After getting my food, I sat in a corner and started eating.
A strong wave of perfume hit me, and Audrey sat down next to me.
“Sierra,” she called my name.
I couldn’t help it; I sneezed loudly.
Audrey: “…”
“What’s up?” I moved over a bit, putting some distance between me and Audrey.
The smell was too strong; I couldn’t handle it.
Audrey glanced at the microphone clipped to my shirt.
Seeing it was turned off, she felt safe to speak: “Sierra, do you know what kind of family background Noah comes from?”
Me: “?”
“He’s the second son of the Sterling Group in New York,” Audrey said, her expression flat. “You should know the Sterling Group. Top-tier conglomerate in the city.”
“Oh.” I didn’t understand what Audrey was getting at, but I nodded cluelessly.
“Noah and Ethan. Neither of them is someone you can ever match. Be smart and stay far away from them from now on.”
Me: “…???”
I found Audrey’s words hilarious.
This girl was really something else!
“I hope you look out for yourself,” Audrey said, then stood up and walked away.
Idiot.
I rolled my eyes, ignored her, and went back to gnawing on my chicken drumstick.
Night quietly fell. Noah got one room, which meant I’d be sleeping in the same room as Ethan tonight.
The production team confiscated our phones, but they gave us one hour of phone time every day.
After washing up, I lay in bed and started googling “precautions for pregnant women.”
“What are you looking at?”
Just as I was deeply engrossed in reading, a voice suddenly sounded from above my head.
I jumped, frantically locking my phone screen.
“You scared the crap out of me! Don’t you make any noise when you walk?”
I patted my chest to calm my racing heart.
I didn’t want to tell Ethan about the pregnancy just yet.
Ethan produced a glass of milk from who knows where and handed it to me: “Drink this.”
“Where did you get this?”
Even though I ate quite a bit at dinner, I was starting to feel hungry again.
Thinking about the baby in my stomach, I took the milk.
After I finished it, Ethan handed me a tissue. “A villager gave it to us.”
I nodded and went to brush my teeth before bed.
Lying in bed, the camera in the room was covered by Ethan.
I was originally feeling sleepy, but with Ethan lying next to me, my sleepiness suddenly vanished.
My mind replayed the events of the day.
Audrey had tried to get close to Ethan multiple times, but I saw Ethan completely ignore her every time.
What was going on?
Wasn’t Audrey Ethan’s “first love”?
He literally lied about going on a business trip just to pick her up from the airport!
Could it be that because I was here, Ethan felt awkward?
That made sense.
I suddenly let out a cold chuckle.
Even if Ethan didn’t care about my feelings, he had to consider the reputation of our two families.
“What are you laughing about in the middle of the night?”
I heard Ethan’s voice suddenly cut through the darkness.
“Mind your own business.”
I rolled over, turning my back to Ethan, closed my eyes, and went to sleep.
7
Early the next morning.
I slowly woke up, and as soon as I opened my eyes, I found myself staring at a smooth, fair chin.
My eyes widened, and I let out a scream, accidentally headbutting Ethan right under his jaw.
A muffled groan followed. I sat up and saw a look of pain on Ethan’s face.
“Y-you shameless creep!”
I pointed a finger at Ethan. “You’re taking advantage of me! Who told you to hold me while sleeping!”
Ethan sat up too. I have to admit, to become a top-tier star, his looks really were undeniable.
His messy bangs fell over his brow, and his dark, deep eyes stared at me.
He rubbed his chin and said: “Are you sure I was holding you?”
I frowned slightly, thought for a moment, and then a look of sheer embarrassment spread across my face.
Earlier… it seemed I was the one pinning Ethan down.
I’ve always been a restless sleeper.
Normally, Ethan was busy, and sometimes he wasn’t home. But even when he was home, we slept in separate beds.
I scratched my head and replied: “We’re an old married couple anyway. So what if I squished you a little?”
I’ve never been one to lose an argument.
After saying that, I didn’t dare look at Ethan’s expression and quickly scrambled out of bed.
The production team had prepared breakfast.
After we finished eating, they announced the task.
Helping the villagers clean fish.
Hearing the words “clean fish,” a vivid image flashed in my mind.
Normally, I probably wouldn’t have thought much of it.
But now that I was pregnant, just thinking about that scene made me want to gag.
Ethan was the first to notice my reaction. He walked behind me and patted my back.
“What’s wrong?”
I was about to answer when I saw the director’s crew bring out the fish. The smell of raw fish hit my nostrils, cutting my words short as I doubled over, dry heaving again.
The viewers in the live chat saw this and immediately started speculating.
“What’s wrong with Sierra? That looks exactly like morning sickness.”
“Is Sierra pregnant? Why else would the smell of fish make her throw up?”
I saw Ethan narrowing his eyes at me.
My heart skipped a beat. Just as I was trying to figure out how to explain, Audrey also started dry heaving nearby.
“Ethan, ugh…”
Audrey’s reaction was clearly much more dramatic than mine, the actually pregnant person.
“Ethan, this smell is awful. I caught a chill last night, and the smell today is making my stomach turn.”
Audrey, eyes red and brimming with tears, looked at Ethan, clearly waiting for him to come over and comfort her.
But Ethan didn’t even spare her a glance.
However, Audrey’s words gave me the perfect excuse.
“I think I caught a chill last night too. My stomach is feeling really upset today.”
“I’ll ask the production team for an extra blanket tonight.” Ethan suddenly reached out and felt my forehead. “Good thing you don’t have a fever.”
I was startled by Ethan’s sudden touch.
The live chat also went silent for a moment, and then the screen was flooded with comments.
“Ahhhh! What did I just see! The Ice King just touched Sierra’s forehead!”
“Isn’t this a dating show? Touching a forehead is normal interaction, right?”
“Why didn’t Ethan touch Audrey’s forehead? Audrey said she wasn’t feeling well and he didn’t care, but he cared about Sierra.”
“Commenter above, what’s your logic? The Ice King’s current partner is Sierra. Isn’t it completely normal for him to care about his own partner? Why should he care about Audrey?”
“Aren’t the Ice King and Audrey universally acknowledged as a couple?”
“??? When did the Ice King ever say he and Audrey were a couple? Please stop trying to force them together, thanks!”
The live chat was going crazy, and it took me a moment to snap out of it.
I saw Audrey looking at me like she wanted to eat me alive.
I frowned, feeling annoyed.
Ethan is clearly my husband. What the hell does that look mean?
I let out a soft scoff, purposely putting on a delicate, whiny voice for Ethan: “Ethan, my stomach hurts so much. I don’t think I can clean fish later.”
I threw Ethan a “you-know-what-I-mean” look.
Honestly, I was a little nervous. I wasn’t sure if Ethan would reject me.
But if he actually dared to reject me, he was dead meat.
I heard Ethan give a soft “Mhm”: “I’ll do it. You rest on the side.”
I let out a “hehe” and smiled.
For Liam and Chloe’s team, Chloe also didn’t want to clean fish, and Liam told her to go rest on the side.
When it came to Noah and Audrey, right before Audrey could speak, Noah’s voice carried over:
“Audrey, the smell of this fish is making me feel sick too. You clean them.”
With that, Noah shoved a large knife into Audrey’s hands and walked over to the side, crossing his legs casually.
This move left not only Audrey dumbfounded, but the entire live chat as well.
“Hahahaha! Oh my god! Noah’s move has me dying! Audrey is frozen.”
“Is Noah being ungentlemanly? Why make Audrey clean the fish?”
“What do you mean ungentlemanly? During the first task, your Audrey wasn’t feeling well and rested on the side while our Noah gathered all the firewood himself. Now our Noah isn’t feeling well and wants to rest. Why can’t your Audrey clean the fish?”
“Audrey needs to stop being so high-maintenance.”
Audrey’s fans were definitely no match for Noah’s obsessive fanbase.
In no time, the entire live chat was spammed with “Audrey needs to stop being so high-maintenance,” making Audrey’s manager’s face turn darker than coal.
Audrey was screaming internally, but Noah clearly wasn’t going to help. If Audrey didn’t do it, they probably really wouldn’t have any lunch. She had no choice but to resign herself to her fate, pick up the knife, and start cleaning fish.
Audrey was wearing a white dress today, and in no time, it was stained with bright red blood.
I have to say, I was reveling in her misery.
I didn’t like her to begin with, so of course, I was going to enjoy this.
I looked over at Ethan. He was wearing black clothes and had thrown a leather apron over himself.
His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, displaying his muscular arms as he expertly chopped the fish without a hint of hesitation.
As I watched, I let out a light cough.
I was almost blinded by how hot this man looked.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “411842”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
It all started with something incredibly small.
After Mia finished introducing herself to the class, our homeroom teacher was looking around, trying to figure out where to seat her.
Oliver raised his hand and said, “Mr. Davis, she can sit next to me.”
A collective “Ooooh” went up from the class. Then, eyes started darting toward me, some subtle, some blatant, curious to see my reaction.
Everyone knew Oliver and I had practically grown up together. Everyone also knew that every time seats were reassigned after exams and I asked if we could sit together, he always made some excuse about preferring to sit alone and turned me down.
I looked up at Oliver. He didn’t notice my gaze; he was too busy exchanging a knowing smile with Mia as she looked out from the front of the classroom.
Watching that scene unfold, for some reason, I suddenly felt deeply, bone-tired.
01
The teacher left after Mia took her seat.
It was a passing period, so the classroom quickly grew loud again.
I could hear the whispers. I could feel the glances shifting from Mia to Oliver, and finally, inevitably, landing on me.
I kept my head down, focusing on my work, completely ignoring the stares. It wasn’t until Mia finished unpacking her bag, turned around, and smiled at me brightly that I finally looked up.
“Serena! It’s been so long,” she said, her voice warm and familiar, acting as if the ugly fallout between us two years ago had never happened.
I didn’t look at Oliver sitting next to her. I kept my eyes fixed entirely on Mia. Polite, distant, and perfectly composed, I gave her a small nod. “It has.”
Before she could react, I looked back down at my Physics homework.
My complete lack of interest in catching up was glaringly obvious. Mia, who was always excellent at reading a room, knew when to back off. She turned back around, abandoning her usual act of pretending everything was perfectly fine.
Chloe, who sat next to me, was practically vibrating out of her seat. She looked like she was dying to know what was going on, but the bell rang. Plus, the people involved were sitting right in front of us; even a whisper would be heard.
So, she passed me a note.
It read: WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!?!?!
I could practically feel her desperation through the sheer number of exclamation marks. I crumpled the note in my hand and glanced at the row in front of me.
Oliver and Mia had their heads close together. Oliver was pointing at something in the textbook for our next class, talking to her in a low voice, probably explaining where we were in the syllabus.
The angle of his profile looked so incredibly gentle.
Oliver rarely showed that kind of patience. Most of the time, he was aloof and easily annoyed with people.
I remembered a time when I missed a few days of school because of a bad fever. When I came back, he was helping me catch up on Physics. After barely explaining two concepts, he got frustrated, frowning as he said, “Serena, how can you be this slow?”
I wasn’t slow; he just didn’t have any patience.
I used to think that was just how he was—impatient with everyone.
But looking at him now, I realized he wasn’t impatient. He just wasn’t patient with me.
02
The next class was AP Calculus. As the period was winding down, Mr. Harris called my name. “Serena, could you go to my office and grab those two stacks of practice tests? Pass them out; they’re homework for tonight. We’ll go over the examples tomorrow morning.”
I nodded and stood up to leave.
Chloe immediately jumped up too. “Mr. Harris, I’ll go help Serena.”
It wasn’t until we were out in the hallway that she finally lowered her voice and asked, “Serena, what is the deal with you, Oliver, and the new transfer student?”
I paused.
I knew Chloe was just worried about me. After all, my crush on Oliver was the worst-kept secret in school.
Oliver and I lived next door to each other. In the eyes of our parents, we were childhood sweethearts. I had liked him for as long as I could remember.
Oliver was popular. He was handsome, got great grades, and had a good reputation. He also had this laid-back, effortlessly cool vibe that made him incredibly well-liked.
A teenage crush is a funny thing. No matter how hard you try to hide it or act careful, your feelings always manage to leak out through your eyes.
Everyone could see it. They teased us, shipped us, linked our names together constantly.
Oliver definitely knew, too. Sometimes, he’d even lean into the teasing, making harmless little jokes that only fueled the rumors.
It felt like this unspoken, mutual understanding. A quiet kind of intimacy.
But we never actually talked about it. Aside from focusing on getting into a good college, I honestly didn’t fully understand Oliver.
There was a time when he was so gentle with me it was confusing. But the moment I gathered the courage to ask him what it meant, he’d turn cold and smoothly change the subject, making it seem like I had just misunderstood everything.
I’m not the type to force things or chase after someone who doesn’t want me. When he pulled away, I naturally pulled back too. But the second I created distance, he’d start paying attention to me again.
Chloe once told me that Oliver just liked the attention I gave him. He liked knowing I liked him. He didn’t want to date me, but he didn’t want to lose me, either.
I never really understood that. In my world, you either like someone or you don’t. If you like them, you date them; if you don’t, you make it clear.
But I have to admit, Oliver’s hot-and-cold routine made it impossible for me to fully categorize him as ‘just a friend.’
What really gave me hope happened recently, right after our midterms. My grades were strong across the board, but my Chemistry score was a little low. We were about to choose our tracks for senior year—STEM or Humanities. My counselor had even pulled me aside to suggest I lean towards STEM, but I personally preferred Humanities because I wanted to go into international relations.
But Oliver said to me, “Serena, choose the STEM track.” His tone was casual, but it felt like a promise. “Let’s go to the same college.”
I froze at the time. My ears turned red, and I tried to play it cool as I asked, “Is that a promise?”
He just looked at me with a smile, not saying a word, and my hope was instantly reignited.
I was like a fish. Every time I felt like I was suffocating and about to give up, he’d splash a little water on me, just enough to keep me alive.
But now that Mia was back, I guess he didn’t feel like sparing me even a few drops of water anymore.
I sighed, and Chloe looked at me with concern.
I didn’t want to hide anything from her. I knew she cared. But honestly, the history between me, Mia, and Oliver wasn’t as complicated as she probably thought.
03
Mia and I went to the same middle school. She transferred into our class in the middle of 8th grade because her dad got a new job in the city.
By that time, friend groups were pretty solidified. Plus, Mia was really pretty, so it was hard for her to fit in at first.
I was generally well-liked, easy to talk to, and got good grades, so Mia gravitated towards me.
She sat diagonally behind me, separated by an aisle. One morning, I didn’t have time for breakfast, and by the time homeroom was over, my stomach was growling loudly. I asked my desk mate if she had any snacks.
Somehow, Mia heard me. She handed over her muffin, her eyes curving into a sweet smile. “I happened to buy an extra one this morning. You can have it.”
I felt a bit awkward, but later on, she’d come up to me with this completely innocent vibe, asking questions about assignments. I always patiently helped her. Eventually, whenever there was a group project or an event, I’d bring her along, and that’s how she became part of my friend group.
And that’s how she met Oliver.
Back then, Oliver and I were truly just “childhood friends.” Although we hadn’t defined anything, just like now, he wasn’t hot and cold back then.
If he skipped class to play video games, he’d bring back my favorite fries. He’d cover for me so I could sneak out to concerts.
Once, during P.E., I sprained my ankle. Our classroom was on the top floor, and he piggybacked me up and down the stairs every single day. He stayed by my side through all my physical therapy.
In those countless moments where I felt like I couldn’t handle the emotional whiplash of liking him anymore, I’d pick up one or two of those memories. Those hazy, beautiful moments became my motivation to keep going, making me believe that my obvious crush might actually lead somewhere.
The turning point in our relationship probably started when Mia transferred to our school.
Mia had moved around a lot as a kid because of her dad’s job, so she was much more socially adept and smooth than the rest of us. She was incredibly good at reading people. So, very quickly, I considered her a real friend.
At that time, I hung out with Oliver a lot, and naturally, she got to know him through me. But when the three of us were together, she rarely spoke. She usually just sat quietly and listened.
She seemed so harmless. It took me a long time to realize that whenever she and I were alone, the conversation would somehow always veer towards Oliver.
His likes, his dislikes, embarrassing stories from his childhood, what made him happy or angry… Through me, Mia learned everything there was to know about Oliver, without ever having to spend much time with him one-on-one.
She even teased me about my obvious crush on him, acting just like any other supportive best friend.
There isn’t much to say about what happened next. A new movie starring an actor Oliver liked came out. I asked him to go see it, but he said he was busy. Later, my friends dragged me to the mall. By coincidence, we ended up near the movie theater, just in time to see Oliver and Mia walking out.
Unlike the usual quiet dynamic when it was the three of us, Mia was laughing beautifully, and Oliver, looking unusually gentle, was gesturing animatedly as they talked, probably discussing the movie plot.
I had never known that the usually quiet Mia had such an energetic side.
I also never realized that the two of them were that close behind my back.
I froze. It was too late to hide. When Mia and Oliver looked up and saw me, Mia’s face stiffened. She looked briefly embarrassed, but quickly recovered, flashing her usual smile and saying hi.
Oliver, on the other hand, immediately started making excuses: “Mia likes this actor too. Since you don’t really like him, I just came with her.”
Mia. Such an intimate way to say her name.
My gaze shifted from his face to Mia standing behind him. I noted her unnatural expression, but I didn’t call her out.
Because I clearly remembered that when I first told her about Oliver’s favorite actor, she looked confused and asked me who he was and if he had been in anything famous.
There isn’t much else to the story. Even though she knew I liked Oliver, and even though she used me to get close to him and gather information, they weren’t actually dating at the time. She had the right to do whatever she wanted. I was just disgusted by her manipulation.
I’m not a pushover. After that, I naturally distanced myself. I stopped hanging out with her, and my attitude grew cold. I didn’t say anything publicly, but I actively avoided any gathering she was at. The friends who used to invite her only did so because of me. After I bailed a few times, my friends—though they didn’t know what happened—stopped inviting her too.
“She’s nice, gentle, and always says the right thing, but for some reason, she just feels… off. Like she’s not genuine.”
“Serena, weren’t you guys super close? You brought her breakfast, let her copy your homework, tutored her… why are you shutting her out now?”
I shook my head and avoided the topic.
I feel like I was raised well enough to know that no matter what, I don’t like talking behind people’s backs. It’s petty.
I never expected that one day, Oliver would be the one to confront me about her.
He looked at me with an icy, disappointed expression, asking through gritted teeth, “Serena, are you the one leading the charge to isolate Mia?”
Even though it was phrased as a question, the certainty in his tone told me he had already found me guilty.
I felt like I was being accused out of nowhere. But my temper is usually pretty even, so I patiently asked, “What makes you think that?”
He asked back, “Then why has everyone around you stopped talking to her?”
That was probably his version of being diplomatic. I don’t know what Mia said to him, but my pent-up anger exploded. I looked at Oliver and said coldly, “I don’t respect her character.”
What followed was an argument I’ve mostly forgotten. It was probably Oliver desperately trying to convince me that Mia was a great girl and that I shouldn’t be prejudiced against her.
That was the beginning of the end. Later, Mia even came to apologize to me. But her apology felt more like a thinly veiled taunt, a way to show off. I looked at the smugness hidden beneath her apologetic smile, clutched my books, shoved her lightly, and said coldly, “Get out of my way.”
I really didn’t use much force, but she stumbled backward as if she lost her balance, hitting the wall hard. Her eyes went red as she asked, “Serena, do you really hate me that much?”
Before I could answer, someone yanked me hard from behind. Caught off guard, I almost fell. I turned around to see Oliver.
He looked at me coldly, acting like a white knight defending Mia. “She sincerely apologized. What more do you want?” He paused, then added, “Besides, she didn’t do anything wrong in the first place.”
My wrist throbbed from his grip. The books I was holding scattered across the floor, bruising my foot. Mia nervously tugged at the hem of Oliver’s shirt, telling him not to fight with me because of her.
Such hypocrisy. I was young and hot-headed then. Even though angry tears welled in my eyes, I stubbornly refused to let them fall. I looked coldly at Mia and said bluntly, “Mia, you are truly disgusting.”
Then I turned to Oliver and said, “Oliver, you’re an idiot.”
I don’t know how Mia acted around Oliver in private, but I can imagine. From me, she knew Oliver inside and out. So she always knew exactly how to appeal to his tastes, possessing an uncanny, “perfectly timed” alignment with all his preferences.
Oliver took those coincidences as fate, and his feelings for her grew.
Even if he later realized that everything she knew was just information she gleaned from me, Oliver probably just chalked it up to her being jealous.
Mia, the beautiful, perfect girl in his mind.
After that, Oliver and I basically stopped talking. He and Mia grew closer, and the bond that used to be ours was replaced by hers.
He studied with her, went to museums with her, and took her to our secret spot. One day, I pushed open the door to the school roof and saw them sitting side-by-side, looking at the sky and eating ice cream.
They looked so comfortable together.
After that, we just ignored each other.
I remember for a very long time, Oliver and I didn’t exchange a single word. Until the beginning of freshman year of high school, when Mia moved back to her home state.
I forget who gave who the out. Time has a way of blurring things, and distance does too.
Oliver and I slowly went back to normal, even though the cracks were still there. We tacitly agreed never to bring up Mia, to the point where it felt deliberate.
Until today, when Mia suddenly reappeared in our world.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “411841”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
I kidnapped a trust fund kid. But this rich boy was severely depressed. Every day, he was either trying to get himself killed or actively seeking out ways to die.
To keep him from kicking the bucket on my watch, I glued my eyes to him 24/7.
Then one day, he looked at me with deep, passionate sincerity and said, “Before, I wanted to die. I really did. But now that I’ve met you, I look forward to tomorrow more than anything.”
Wait, hold up!
I’m the kidnapper here! How did I end up getting zero ransom money and losing my heart in the process?!
1
My name is Maya, and I’m a kidnapper. A broke, desperate kidnapper.
I needed money. Like, really needed it.
So, I took a massive risk and kidnapped Oliver Vance, the youngest son of the CEO of Vance Enterprises, planning to demand a $500,000 ransom.
I never expected this trust fund baby to have severe depression. Before I could even send the ransom note, this idiot tried to off himself every other day.
I was getting sick and tired of saving his life.
Finally, one day, he said, “I’m done trying to kill myself. Why don’t you just kill me instead?”
I’m a kidnapper with professional standards. I absolutely do not kill the hostage without a very good reason.
But I really, really needed the money.
I thought about it long and hard, and finally decided to grant his wish: “Then you’re going to have to pay extra!”
But as a rookie kidnapper, I just didn’t have the heart to actually gut him.
Oliver was a textbook rich kid. Clean-cut features, perfect teeth, and unfairly handsome.
In all my years, I’d never seen a guy this good-looking. As a girl who hadn’t seen much of the world, I couldn’t help but want to poke his cheek every now and then.
Oliver was usually gloomy and withdrawn, and sometimes he would just inexplicably start crying.
I felt like I was the one making him cry.
I felt guilty.
I tried my absolute best to comfort him: “Don’t be scared, I only kidnapped you for the ransom. I’m not going to kill you.”
“How much are you asking for?” His voice sounded so pure.
I held up five fingers: “$500,000.”
Hearing that, he lowered his eyes, seemingly unsatisfied with the price.
I said, “Should I offer a discount?”
He shook his head.
“Then should you try haggling?”
He said melancholically, “I really am a worthless person…”
Me: ???
He asked me back, “Do you really think I’m only worth $500,000?”
I felt like something was wrong with his brain, and said hesitantly, “Then five million?”
He sighed, seemingly feeling it was still too cheap.
After discussing the price with him, I sat nearby and started writing the thirteenth ransom note to his dad.
Why the thirteenth? Because I had already written twelve!
As I wrote, I asked Oliver, “Why hasn’t your dad sent the money yet? Does he also think my asking price is too low?”
The world of the rich—I don’t understand it, but I am deeply shocked by it.
“I don’t know. How did you write the letter? Read it to me.”
I said “Okay” and started reading: “Dear Mr. Vance, Hello. How is your health lately? I have kidnapped your youngest son, Oliver. Please wire $500,000 to the following account: 62167xxxxxxxx. Thank you! Please do not call the police, otherwise I will kill the hostage before they arrive.”
“…”
“How is it? Is there a problem?”
“It’s not aggressive enough.”
“Then how should I write it?” I handed him the pen and paper. “Why don’t you write it for me?”
Oliver reluctantly agreed: “Fine.”
I was just about to untie his ropes, but then I had a second thought: What if he runs away?
“I won’t run,” he said.
I hesitated, still too afraid to untie him.
“I really won’t run,” he added. “I swear on my honor as a student.”
Fine. Because of that sentence, I trusted him and untied the ropes.
He rubbed his sore arms, then picked up the pen and paper.
I have to say, not only was he good-looking, but his handwriting was also incredibly neat.
How could someone this perfect exist in the world?
It’s just…
The letter he wrote went like this: Hey, old man Vance, your son is in my hands right now! Wire $500,000 to the account below, and make it snappy! Don’t you dare short me a single cent! Don’t call the cops, or I’ll kill him!
“Oliver, is it really okay to write it like this?” I stared at the ransom note he wrote, lost in thought.
“It only sounds aggressive if you write it like this.”
I thought about it and felt his reasoning was sound. Just as I was about to put the letter in the envelope, he suddenly said, “Maybe we should ask for five million. I feel like I’m worth more than this.”
I shook my head firmly: “No, I only want $500,000.”
I decided to send the letter the next day. But that night, I had a dream.
I dreamed I was caught by the police, and Mr. Vance was screaming at the top of his lungs nearby: “I wired you $500,000 thirteen times! Couldn’t you just ask for it all at once, damn it! If you wanted it in installments, you should have at least said something!”
I was crying uncontrollably: “I’m sorry, I forgot to turn on my bank text alerts!”
I woke up with a start, my forehead covered in sweat, and shook Oliver awake: “Oliver, Oliver, wake up!”
He opened his sleepy eyes and asked what was wrong.
“I think I forgot to turn on my bank text alerts.”
“…”
2
Guys, the perfect Oliver is not perfect.
Ever since I tied him up and brought him to this mountain warehouse half a month ago, I never realized he was such a neat freak!
This morning, I was planning to mail the ransom note, but Oliver absolutely refused to go without taking a shower first.
I had no choice but to take him to the mountain spring to rinse off.
He dawdled and washed for over half an hour. When we finally got back, I had just tied him up when he insisted I tie his shoelaces.
“Your shoelaces are tied perfectly fine!”
“The butterfly wings are uneven. It’s bothering me.”
“…”
After adjusting his shoelaces, I went out to mail the letter and turned on my bank text alerts while I was at it.
I checked my balance. No $500,000.
But right as I walked out of the bank, I spotted two police officers not far away.
I shuddered. Were they here to catch me?!
I scurried back into the bank, peeked half my head out from behind the door, and observed.
I saw a police officer holding a photo and asking a passerby, “Have you seen this person?”
The passerby glanced at the photo and shook his head: “Never seen him.”
“If you see this person, please call the police immediately.”
The passerby’s sense of justice flared up: “What did this guy do? I’ve trained in MMA for a few years, maybe I can help you catch him.”
He even rolled up his sleeves to show off his muscles.
The police officer sternly refused: “No! This man is a ruthless, bloodthirsty kidnapper. Do not engage him directly. You must call the police!”
Hearing this, I was scared out of my wits.
What should I do? What should I do? The police are here to catch me! I’m going to jail!
I waited until the police were far away before I dared to sneak out. I was so scared I practically wet my pants. I didn’t even dare to mail the ransom note, and hurried back to the abandoned warehouse as fast as I could.
“Oliver! Oliver! What are we going to do? Waaaaah…”
As soon as I got back, I ran straight to Oliver, hugged him tightly, and cried uncontrollably.
I felt like if he wasn’t tied up, he probably would have pushed me away long ago.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“The police are here to catch me. What do we do?” I said while wiping away tears. “I saw with my own eyes the police asking people around with my photo! I’m done for! Waaaaah!”
Oliver pondered for a moment, then said, “Maybe my dad called the police.”
When he said that, I cried even louder.
“My dad called the police, so you should just kill me.”
Right! I should kill him!
I… I’ll do it! I’ll kill him right now!
I pulled a dagger out of my backpack and waved it around Oliver’s neck.
He closed his eyes, waiting for me to slit his throat.
But my hands kept shaking, shaking, shaking like a leaf. I couldn’t stop them!
Clang! I dropped the dagger. I… I couldn’t do it!
Oliver seemed very disappointed.
Just as I was crying, snot bubbles popping one after another, Oliver suddenly asked me how the police questioned the passerby.
I recounted the incident while sobbing.
Oliver’s face darkened: “Relax, the person they’re looking for isn’t you.”
“How is that possible? I’m the kidnapper!”
“Ruthless, bloodthirsty. Does that sound like you?”
“…No… it doesn’t.”
But hearing Oliver say that put my mind at ease.
I went to the mountain spring pool and splashed water on my tear-stained face.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was my little brother, Leo.
“Sister, the nurse taught me how to fold paper boats today. When are you coming back? I want to fold paper boats with you.”
“Sister will be back very soon. Leo has to be a good boy and listen to the doctor, okay?”
“Okay.”
I put my phone back in my pocket and gathered some firewood nearby, planning to boil some water for instant noodles when I got back.
But when I returned with an armful of dry wood, I caught Oliver rummaging through my backpack!
“How did you untie the ropes?!”
He didn’t even look up, pulling a wafer cookie out of my bag. “My arms were falling asleep, so I untied them to stretch. Why are you back so early? I haven’t had time to tie myself back up yet.”
No wonder the snacks in my bag kept disappearing. I had assumed I ate them and forgot.
“Since you have this skill, why didn’t you sneak away when I wasn’t looking?”
He took a bite of the wafer cookie and said, “Why do you overestimate yourself so much? I could run away even when you are looking.”
“…”
I dropped my head, feeling a deep sense of defeat.
After Oliver finished the cookie, he ripped open a bag of chips. Seemingly bored, he suddenly asked me my name.
“Maya.”
“Like ‘Maya the Maya’?”
“Like ‘Maya’ as in the illusion.”
“Oh, Little Sprout, you should wash your hands of this business early. You’re not cut out for this line of work.”
“I’m only doing this one job.” I asked the question that had been buried in my heart for a long time. “Why are you always so unhappy?”
“Because I have depression.”
I suddenly understood: “Ah? No wonder you’re always looking for death.”
He corrected my wording: “Seeking death.”
I’d heard that people with depression suffer a lot. It’s a mental illness with a very high suicide rate.
I comforted him: “I heard that once people have money, they lose their worries. You should be glad you have it all. Don’t be sad, Oliver.”
“…Thank you for your ineffective counseling.”
Since Oliver had excellent rope-untying skills, I stopped tying him up. It was all based on the honor system.
That night, I tossed and turned. Thinking of Leo saying he missed me, I wanted to sprint straight to the hospital to see him.
I guess I’ll go back and check on him tomorrow.
Thinking this, I gradually drifted off to sleep. But it felt like as soon as I fell asleep, I was woken up by an itch.
It was incredibly itchy, like claws scratching at my heart and liver.
I tossed and turned, unable to fall back asleep. Why was it so itchy?
While scratching, I picked up my phone to Google the symptoms.
Hives? Doesn’t seem like it.
Psoriasis? No.
Kidney failure?
Yes, yes, this must be it. These past few days, I’ve been so worried about Oliver running away that I’ve been guarding him 24/7. Sometimes I didn’t even have time to go to the bathroom and just held it in.
I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I instantly felt sick to my stomach, my mind going completely blank.
Oliver seemed to have been woken up by me. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you sleeping?”
“I feel prickly all over, incredibly uncomfortable. I just Googled my symptoms, and it says it’s kidney failure.” I was so anxious I was almost crying. “What do I do, Oliver? Am I going to die? I don’t want to die yet!”
“…How long has it been since you took a shower?”
“I haven’t washed since I kidnapped you! I was afraid you’d run away!”
“Go take a shower. You won’t itch after you wash.”
“Oh.”
After I showered, I felt completely refreshed, and my body wasn’t prickly anymore.
The next day, I woke up bright and early. But seeing Oliver still sleeping soundly, I didn’t dare brush my tongue when I brushed my teeth, afraid I’d gag and wake him up. I didn’t even dare chew my chips until they were soft and soggy in my mouth.
My phone rang. It was my best friend, Harper.
As soon as I answered, she politely greeted my entire ancestry: “Maya, you absolute disaster! Where the hell have you been these past few days? Do you have any idea how much Leo misses you?!”
“I haven’t… ah, recently, I’ve actually had some things to deal with. I’ll be right back at the hospital.”
I hung up the phone right after saying that, grabbed my bag, and rushed to the hospital like my tail was on fire.
When I arrived at the hospital, Harper was watching cartoons with Leo.
When Leo saw me, he threw his arms around me: “Sister, I missed you so much! Are you really back? I’m not dreaming, am I?”
I crouched down to his eye level and pinched his soft little cheek: “You’re not dreaming. Have you been listening to the doctors lately? Are you still scared of getting shots?”
“I’m not scared anymore. I’ve grown up. I’m a man now. I can protect you, sister.”
While Leo and I were having our touching sibling moment, Harper angrily dragged me out of the room and demanded to know where I had been for the past half month, abandoning my own brother.
“I went to get money.”
“What kind of money makes you disappear completely?”
“I just… lightly tested the penal code…” I lowered my voice. “I kidnapped the CEO of Vance Enterprises’ son.”
She was dumbfounded: “How could you even dare?! Holy shit! You… turn back before it’s too late.”
At that moment, Leo suddenly ran out and invited me to fold paper boats.
So the three of us sat on the hospital bed folding paper boats together.
But I was clumsy, so I had to ask Harper: “Is this how you fold this part?”
“Fold it over like this… Please, turn back before it’s too late.”
“…”
A little while later.
I asked Harper again: “How do you fold the boat’s canopy in the middle?”
“That part should be folded back, then you just pull it and it’s done… Please, turn back before it’s too late.”
“…”
After folding the paper boats, Leo watched cartoons for a bit, then got tired and fell asleep.
It was time for me to head back to the abandoned warehouse.
I said goodbye to Harper outside the hospital. Harper was in tears. I just thought she was sad to see me go, but I didn’t expect her to say: “Does this make me an accessory to a crime?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll cut ties with you right before I get caught. I won’t drag you down with me.”
She looked grave, pointing at an Audi logo, and said: “Don’t those four rings look like two pairs of silver bracelets (handcuffs)? One pair for you, one pair for me… Please, turn back before it’s too late.”
“…No, they don’t.”
After parting ways with Harper, I headed back to the warehouse.
But when I got back, I realized Oliver wasn’t there! I searched the surrounding area several times but still couldn’t find him.
He couldn’t have run away, could he?! Was he going to the police?!
Just as I was hopping mad and wiping away tears, I saw Oliver dragging a large 24-inch suitcase back from a distance!
I was both shocked and delighted: “Where did you go?! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“I went home for a bit.”
“…”
“Grabbed some clean clothes.”
“…”
I wiped away tears and said: “Then why did you come back?”
“We have a kidnapping with integrity going on here. If you don’t let me go, I won’t leave. Stop crying, you’re losing all your kidnapper street cred.”
Thank goodness Oliver came back, otherwise I would have been so anxious I would have turned myself in.
3
I felt like Oliver had the aura of a perfect househusband.
Ever since he brought that massive suitcase back from home, he went into full warehouse-makeover mode.
He cleaned the area where he slept, put up some wallpaper, used discarded wood to make a shoe rack, and even strung up a clothesline outside the warehouse.
A little later, he was patching up the broken windows and putting up curtains.
I watched his flurry of activity, completely dumbfounded. “Oliver, are you planning on living here long-term?”
“I’ll leave once you extort the $500,000.”
I felt a bit touched. “Thank you for helping me extort your dad.”
After he finished putting up the curtains, he was sweating profusely and grabbed his body wash to go take a shower at the spring.
My phone buzzed. A quick glance showed it was a text from the bank. Had the $500,000 arrived?!
My heart was racing, my hands trembling!
I held my breath, anticipating opening the text…
Damn it!
It was a notification that my Spotify premium subscription had renewed…
Just as I was looking up at the sky and sighing, wanting to cry but having no tears left, another ringtone sounded.
It wasn’t mine.
I followed the sound in confusion and finally located it in Oliver’s suitcase.
My heart leapt into my throat. When did he bring a phone?! Had he secretly called the police?!
I picked up his phone. The caller ID was a missed call from someone named “Pain Patch.”
A moment later, this “Pain Patch” sent a WeChat message: Why aren’t you answering the phone?
Immediately followed by another: I sent the medicine over. Remember to pick it up.
What medicine?
Curious, I scrolled through their chat history… Oh wow, it turns out Oliver had his phone on him this whole time!
My fault! I had no experience; I forgot to check if he had a phone!
I was so annoyed I wanted to slap myself.
His most recent contact with Pain Patch was yesterday:
“Oliver, what’s going on with you? You were already home, why did you go back?”
“I felt like it.”
“Is that guy a kidnapper? Or a kidnapper with a heart of gold? Whatever, suit yourself. By the way, you forgot your medicine. Send me your location, and I’ll mail it to you tomorrow.”
Then Oliver sent a location—the nearest Amazon Locker at the foot of the warehouse’s mountain. “Use this address. It’s close, I can make it quick.”
“Why don’t you just use your home address?”
“No, my house is too far. If she realizes I’m gone, she’ll think I went to the police. She’ll probably cry her eyes out.”
“…ojbk [doge emoji]”
Suddenly, the phone rang again. I jumped and accidentally answered the call.
On the other end, Pain Patch said: “Hey, Oliver, you finally picked up.”
I swallowed hard, not knowing what to do.
“Oliver, why aren’t you saying anything? Damn it, did something happen?! I’m calling the police right now!”
I hurriedly replied: “Ah no, nothing happened.”
“??? Are you the kidnapper with a heart of gold?”
“Hello, Mr. Pain.”
“…My last name is Zhao. You can just call me Dr. Zhao.”
I pleaded: “Dr. Pain, please don’t call the police. Oliver said he’d help me extort his dad, and I promise I won’t hurt him.”
“I won’t call the police. Put Oliver on the phone.”
“He just finished working up a sweat and went to take a shower.”
On the other end, Pain Patch coughed awkwardly. “Then I won’t interrupt. You two have fun.”
He hung up the phone after saying that.
At that moment, Oliver returned. He was holding a dripping pair of boxers and hung them on the clothesline.
I ran out clutching his phone. “Oliver, I’m sorry, I snooped through your phone. But why didn’t you tell me you had it hidden? Didn’t we agree to an honest kidnapping?”
“I just didn’t want you to misunderstand and think I was going to call the police.”
“Oh, well what if you used the GPS to run away?”
“Then why don’t we add each other on WeChat? If I run away, I’ll send you a message.”
Hmm, he truly had the qualities of a model hostage. It saved me a lot of worry as a kidnapper.
Since he had cleaned his sleeping area that day, when night fell, I shamelessly scooted closer to him.
“Oliver, you smell so good.”
It was true, a very fresh and clean scent.
“Your greasy hair smells very unique too.”
Ah, that…
I awkwardly got up and moved back to my spot.
In the dark, he suddenly grabbed my hand. “Come back. Talk to me for a bit.”
So I obediently lay back down.
“Why did you want to kidnap me?” he asked.
“I really need money.” Whenever money was mentioned, I was wide awake. “Oliver, are you your dad’s biological son? Why hasn’t he sent the money yet?”
“Him? He’s… he’s probably running around begging everyone he knows to scrape the money together.”
The Vance Enterprise is so huge, $500,000 should be pocket change! “Listen to yourself, do you even believe what you’re saying?”
“I do.”
I believe you… not!
I suddenly thought of a question and asked: “Do you think maybe the ransom note I wrote never even reached your dad?”
He was resolute: “Impossible.”
“Are you lying to me again?”
He laughed: “I’m not lying.”
“Then you said students don’t lie to students!”
“…I can’t say it.”
I was a bit angry, but I was so tired that I eventually fell asleep while fuming.
But in the middle of the night, I was woken up by the sound of sobbing.
I groggily opened my eyes. By the faint moonlight, I saw Oliver hugging his knees, crying.
I sat up facing him. I didn’t understand depression, but I could tell he was in a lot of pain.
“Oliver, Oliver.”
I called out to him, but he seemed to have lost all interest in life, not even batting an eyelid.
I didn’t know what to do, so I just sat with him silently.
In a flash of inspiration, I remembered Pain Patch.
Based on Oliver’s situation, he was probably Oliver’s doctor.
I quietly picked up Oliver’s phone, stepped outside the warehouse, and dialed Pain Patch’s number.
It connected quickly. “Finally decided to call me? What, did your kidnapper with a heart of gold untie your ropes? Speak, what’s up?”
“Hey, Dr. Pain, Oliver is crying, and I don’t know what to do. Please help him!” The more I spoke, the more I wanted to cry, and by the end, my voice was cracking.
He was clearly surprised. “It’s you. Don’t panic. Depression patients %#&%!^#. You need to &#• %^!# watch his mood %#& something might happen.”
The signal suddenly got very bad, and his voice was breaking up.
This led to a miscommunication between us—
“What, something might happen?” My heart skipped a beat. “Is Oliver going to commit suicide? I’ve heard some depression patients commit suicide.”
“Suicide?! You said %#&#%^ … he wants to commit suicide!”
“No, I mean…”
“The signal is bad, you’re saying %#& I can’t hear you clearly. You %^#&*… send me the location, I’m coming over right now!”
He hung up after saying that.
I hesitated. If he knew where we were, would he call the police to catch me?
But if something happened to Oliver, I’d really be a sinner!
So I steeled myself and sent him the location.
I went back into the warehouse. Oliver had changed positions and was still crying.
I sat down next to him and held his hand. “Oliver, don’t be scared. Pain Patch is already on his way.”
He finally lifted his eyelids to look at me, calling me with a hoarse voice: “Little Sprout…”
I didn’t dare leave his side for a second, terrified his mood would dip too low and he’d do something drastic.
I don’t know how much time passed, but Oliver finally stopped crying and fell asleep shortly after.
Not long after, I faintly heard noise outside the warehouse.
I peeked outside and saw a young man with a flashlight.
When he got closer, I finally saw his face. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and looked refined and intellectual, about the same age as me.
He was cursing under his breath: “What the hell is this dump? You can’t even drive a car up here!”
Turns out intellectual guys curse too.
He was probably Dr. Pain.
He cut straight to the chase: “Where’s Oliver?”
“Asleep.”
Afraid of waking Oliver up, he tiptoed into the warehouse. Seeing him sleeping soundly, he let out a sigh of relief.
I lowered my voice and asked him: “Doctor, is Oliver’s condition very dangerous?”
“Moderate depression, but there’s a very good chance he can overcome it.”
I’ve heard that people with depression suffer from long periods of low mood. I remembered that when I’m in a bad mood, I can’t eat, don’t want to do anything, feel annoyed and helpless—it’s agonizing.
I can’t imagine how Oliver managed to get through it.
“Why did you want to kidnap him?”
“For money.”
“What do you need so much money for? Are you very poor?”
I shook my head: “No, it’s my little brother. He’s sick and needs a kidney transplant.”
He fell silent for a moment, expressing sympathy for my situation, and then asked which hospital my brother was in.
When I told him the hospital’s name, he was a bit surprised. It turned out he worked in the psychiatric department at that very hospital. He warmly told me to contact him anytime if I ran into difficulties in the future.
I was so touched that my eyes instantly welled up with tears.
He pulled out his phone and opened his WeChat QR code: “Let’s add each other as friends. Contact me anytime if you have a problem.”
I wiped my wet eyes, opened WeChat to scan the code, and then heard a loud DING~
I jolted, quickly turned down the volume, and looked back at the sleeping Oliver.
Thank goodness I didn’t wake him up.
“My last name is Zhao,” he emphasized, afraid I would save his contact as “Pain Patch.”
But right after I added Dr. Zhao, Oliver’s ghostly voice came from behind me: “Why are you two adding each other as friends behind my back?”
“…”
Listen to what he was saying. He made it sound like we were doing something shady.
Oliver was mad that Dr. Zhao and I added each other as friends, and he ignored me all night.
The next morning, I woke up early. Pain Patch was still sleeping, but Oliver was nowhere to be seen.
My heart instantly jumped into my throat. He had a terrible night last night; did he do something drastic?
I didn’t have time to think and ran out immediately to look for him.
Thank goodness, he was just sitting on a large rock outside the warehouse.
I let out a huge sigh of relief. I walked up behind him and saw him playing on his phone…
That was my freaking phone!
I saw him open WeChat, pin “Oliver” to the top, then find “Dr. Zhao” and hit delete without hesitation.
I swear to God…
I clenched my fists.
My knuckles were turning white.
I was just about to lose it when I saw him pull out another phone—Dr. Zhao’s—and expertly delete me from it.
I gritted my teeth: “Oli-ver!”
He jumped in shock, then grabbed the phones and started running.
His legs were so long, how could I possibly catch him? Just as I was about to give up and head back, I bumped into someone.
I looked up and saw a middle-aged man, looking to be in his fifties, with an ordinary face.
Seeing this, Oliver quickly ran over and shielded me behind him.
At that moment, Dr. Zhao’s voice came from the warehouse: “Well, well. It was too dark to see clearly yesterday, but look at this! Pots, pans, the whole nine yards! You two setting up house here?!”
He stretched as he walked out, but froze when he saw the unfamiliar middle-aged man.
That was when I noticed, to my shock, that the stranger had a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder!
He immediately aimed the gun at us: “Nobody move! No cops!”
Oliver pulled me further behind him, and I was so scared I barely dared to breathe.
The man forced us into the warehouse with the gun, confiscated our phones, turned them off, and removed the SIM cards to prevent police tracking.
Dr. Zhao swallowed hard, mustered up his courage, and said: “Sir, please let us go. Don’t worry, we absolutely won’t call the police. Besides, we don’t even know you, so we couldn’t give the police any leads anyway.”
The man snorted: “Funny. The police have a city-wide APB out on me. Everyone knows who I am, and you expect me to believe you don’t?”
He was the ruthless, bloodthirsty killer?!
I wanted to cry but had no tears left. Unlucky, incredibly unlucky!
Dr. Zhao was silent for a long moment: “I’m a bit of a shut-in. I really don’t recognize you.”
“Cut the crap!” The man pointed at me, then at the ropes on the floor. “You, tie them up.”
I didn’t dare disobey. I picked up the ropes and tied Dr. Zhao and Oliver back-to-back.
Then the man picked up another rope and tied me up like a trussed turkey.
While tying me up, he felt the unmailed ransom note Oliver had helped me write in my pocket.
He stared at me in disbelief: “You’re in the business too?”
I nodded.
He put the letter away: “I was just worrying about having no money for the getaway. I’ll take this $500,000!”
Now I really wanted to cry. I had worked so hard, and now my payday was flying away.
“Give me the card.”
I stammered: “It’s in the pink backpack in the corner.”
He walked over, roughly dumped out the contents of the bag, and found the bank card. “PIN.”
I told the truth: “My birthday.”
“…How the hell am I supposed to know what day your birthday is!”
At that moment, Oliver suddenly spoke up: “There’s no money on the card. Taking it is useless.”
The man spat: “No money? Are you little punks messing with me?!”
“But I can help you call my dad and extort him.”
The man was suspicious: “You’re trying to pull a fast one, aren’t you?”
“Aren’t you trying to get money for your getaway? I’m paying for my safety. Once you get the money, you have to let us go.”
The man still didn’t believe him.
“You took our phones, so we can’t call the police. If we really wanted to call the police, we’d have to go to the station ourselves. By the time we file a report, you’ll be long gone.”
The man seemed swayed. He weighed his options and finally said: “Fine. But no phone calls. God knows what tricks you’ll play on the phone. Send a text. I’ll send it from your phone myself.”
Oliver agreed without hesitation.
After the man sent the text from Oliver’s phone, he immediately turned it off and removed the SIM card.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “411840”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
I’ve read countless romance novels about the “regretful ex crawling back,” but I never expected to become a character in one.
Except, in my story, there was no “crawling back.” Only the ashes.
Because I was truly dead.
I became a ghost, tethered to the man who took me for granted. Seven days after my death, it was as if a delayed wave of grief had finally crushed him. In the home I could never return to, he howled, wept, and shattered into pieces.
You ask how I felt?
I just stood there, blankly, meticulously savoring every inch of agony on his face.
I listened earnestly to his desperate, agonizing wails over my departure.
Beneath the sorrow and heartbreak, a massive, twisted wave of schadenfreude surged within me.
A joyful, ecstatic sense of vindication.
It was a sharp, liberating thrill. I covered my mouth and laughed.
1
After I died, I became even more certain that Holden Crawford had never truly loved me.
When the police called him to identify my body at the morgue, he thought I had teamed up with my friends to pull a sick prank.
He thought it was just my way of forcing him to give me a way to step down from our fight.
Because right before I died, we had gotten into a massive argument. I had looked at his phone and seen texts from his ex-girlfriend.
In reality, they were just discussing work. There was no explicit flirting. But a woman’s sensitivity and suspicion caused my emotions to spiral out of control.
His ex-girlfriend. His “one that got away.” His absolute muse.
He had never deleted the photos of them from his camera roll. Yet, in all the years we had been together, we didn’t have a single picture together.
The day before, he was running a 102-degree fever. I stayed awake all night by his bed, nursing him. But in his feverish delirium, the name he mumbled was hers.
These things piled up, piece by piece, until my emotions erupted like a volcano.
Finally, Holden looked at me with exhaustion and said, “Harper, stop causing a scene.”
Harper. He was always so cold and distant, calling me by my full name. But in his texts, he called his ex-girlfriend by her sweet nickname, “Ella.” Why didn’t he just call her Stella Montgomery?
Holden said I was being unreasonable.
He didn’t know that this was just the final straw on a mountain of suppressed feelings. I didn’t want the argument to escalate into something uglier, so I slammed the door and left.
2
But I never expected to be so unlucky.
After fighting with Holden, I originally planned to go to the mall to do some retail therapy and clear my head.
Instead, I ran into a psychopath.
Life is unpredictable like that. I was murdered.
The police called Holden to the morgue.
Holden frowned, answering the phone with intense impatience: “Harper, are you done? Can you stop being so childish?”
After he hung up, the police called him a second time.
“Hello, please don’t hang up. This is the Central Precinct. This is not a prank. Am I speaking to Mr. Holden Crawford? Do you know a Harper Quinn? She was murdered at the downtown mall. Please come to the precinct immediately to identify the body.”
In the suffocating, oppressive morgue.
My body was covered tightly by a white sheet. Only one arm hung out, smeared with dried, dark blood.
The detective said, “Take a look. Is the victim your girlfriend, Harper Quinn?”
He reached out to pull back the white sheet covering my head.
But Holden grabbed the detective’s wrist in a death grip.
He stared fixedly at the arm hanging out—at the tattoo of a wild rose intertwined with the letters “HC”.
Even beneath the mottled bloodstains, it was strikingly visible.
I remembered when I first got that tattoo. I excitedly held it up to show Holden.
He was furious. He thought that permanently marking his initials on my body was incredibly irresponsible.
Actually, his grandmother had just passed away around that time. He had said, in total despair, that from then on, he was an orphan, utterly alone in the world.
So I went and got that tattoo.
I just wanted to make him a little happier.
I pointed to the tattoo and solemnly promised him, “The wild rose symbolizes eternal companionship. Holden, I will always be with you.”
So you will never be an orphan, and you will never be alone.
I’ve forgotten his exact reaction, but I remember moving myself to tears.
Thinking back on it now, his anger was probably just a feeling of being burdened.
The person he wanted by his side forever… was always someone else.
3
Holden stared dead at my tattoo. He said, “There’s no need. It’s her.”
He looked so calm, just incredibly pale.
I heard the detective tell him, “The killer was a sociopath, stabbing people at random in the mall. Your girlfriend was trying to pull a pregnant woman to safety but got tripped and fell. She died a hero.”
No, I didn’t.
I was trying to help the pregnant woman run, but when the killer was right behind us, she shoved me backward to save herself and ran away.
I was stabbed over twenty times by that psychopath. I bled to death.
Just my rotten luck.
I stood in front of Holden and cried.
It hurts so much, Holden. I hurt so, so much.
But thankfully, he didn’t let the detective lift the sheet. My body was definitely too mangled to look at.
When Holden walked out of the morgue, he stumbled slightly.
Then he leaned silently against the wall in the hallway.
After a long time, he called my parents, probably to inform them of my death.
No one answered.
This wasn’t surprising. My parents divorced when I was very young and had no affection for me. They were probably afraid I was calling to ask for money, so they had cut ties with me years ago.
The police were efficient. An older officer patted Holden’s shoulder, handed him a business card, and said, “This is the contact for the crematorium. Have them come pick her up as soon as possible. It’s hot out; you can’t keep her here for days, and you can’t take her home.”
From the moment I was murdered to the moment I became a handful of ashes in Holden’s hands.
Not even twelve hours had passed.
And Holden handled my post-mortem affairs with chilling calmness. Signing papers at the station, going through the motions, everything perfectly organized.
I opened my ghostly eyes wide, trying to find a single trace of grief on his handsome, pale face.
Just a little bit. Couldn’t he shed just one tear for me?
Even if he had kept a dog for this many years, he should have at least faked some sadness, right?
But sadly, I found nothing.
4
I floated home with Holden. He sat on the couch, staring blankly, as if the sudden reality hadn’t registered.
I couldn’t blame him; even I felt like I was in a dream.
One second I was perfectly alive, arguing with him about his ex-girlfriend. The next, I was murdered, reduced to a wandering spirit in the mortal realm.
I could never go back.
I was dead. My body had been hacked over twenty times. Every minute leading up to my death was agonizing. My physical form was now just a pile of ashes, and here I was, a pathetic ghost, greedily searching my boyfriend’s demeanor for any tiny clue that he might have actually loved me.
What a pitiful, tragic existence.
Maybe before the sun rises tomorrow, I’ll fade away completely. I suddenly felt a little scared.
Holden stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought. I gently drifted over and rested my head against his shoulder.
Trying to draw some warmth from his body.
Surprisingly, when the sun rose the next day, I hadn’t vanished. I turned to look for Holden.
He was on the phone with Stella Montgomery. They were going on a business trip together to handle a client’s case in Boston.
Oh, right. He and Stella were both lawyers.
Last year, Stella jumped ship and joined his top-tier Big Law firm. Holden was a senior partner there.
That was when our frequent, explosive arguments began.
I remember one time I was so furious I lost my filter. I asked, “Holden, do you want to rekindle things with your ex? If you want to break up, just say it.”
He stood in the living room, backlit by the window, his handsome face devoid of emotion. He just stared at me coldly and didn’t say a word.
Later, I regretted the fight and gave myself a way out. I stood in the kitchen, wiping my tears, and asked, “Holden, do you want beef stew or chicken parm for dinner?”
He said beef stew.
And just like that, we made up, both pretending the fight had never happened.
5
Holden hung up the phone and started packing his suitcase.
I thought my death would at least make him depressed for a little while, but clearly, I was wrong.
My death hadn’t caused even a ripple in his emotional state.
He didn’t even delay his business trip.
I never expected him to be like this after I died. He kept to his routine, going to work, coming home, sleeping late, waking up early.
His life ran like clockwork. Aside from occasionally zoning out for long periods, he acted as if I had never existed in his world.
I was like a sea foam bubble, vanishing completely from his life without leaving a single trace.
How heartless.
Who knows, maybe on this trip, fighting side-by-side with Stella, staying in the same hotel, the old flames might reignite.
Whatever. I was already dead.
Right, I’m dead.
I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and a chill in my heart.
It’s strange. You still have a heart after you die. The pain branched out from my chest, creeping along my stagnant veins until it was unbearable.
I felt my entire body become weightless, floating gently in mid-air.
I heard the sound of the front door closing. I had originally wanted to follow Holden on his trip.
But I thought, what was the point?
Even if they kissed right in front of me, there was nothing I could do. I stared at the ceiling in the dead-silent house and started reminiscing about my history with Holden.
I always knew he didn’t love me.
But I never expected that, after staying by his side for so many years, he wouldn’t have even a sliver of affection for me.
6
Holden and I went to the same university. He was pre-law; I was a struggling art major barely scraping by.
During my freshman year, the university hosted a seminar on student rights and fraud prevention.
We had just finished an exhausting week of campus orientation. We had been standing in the blistering sun all day and just wanted to go back to the dorms and sleep. Being forced to attend some boring seminar led to widespread complaints, and everyone was drowsy.
Until Holden stepped up to the podium.
The professor running the seminar had a last-minute emergency and sent his star student to fill in.
The moment Holden stood there, I was wide awake.
I couldn’t help it. I was a sucker for a pretty face. He was tall, lean, and incredibly pleasant to look at.
His expression was cool, his eyes deep. When he spoke, his pacing was perfect, his voice captivating. He made a dry, boring seminar on student rights sound fascinating.
Looking at him shining on that stage, my naive, young heart fluttered wildly, and I fell head over heels for him.
The result was predictable. I chased him for six months, and he avoided me like the plague for six months.
I was young, passionate, and reckless for love. I had this stubborn courage that refused to give up until I hit a brick wall.
But I never considered that my “courage” was actually a nuisance to him.
Once, when I blocked his path again, smiling and offering him some pastries I had baked myself, he stared at me with those dark eyes and asked:
“You spend every day chasing after someone who doesn’t like you, wasting your time and mine. Don’t you have your own life to live?”
I didn’t catch his underlying meaning back then. I just foolishly said, “My life right now is trying to win you over.”
Then I held up my finger, showing him a blister I got from baking. Pouting a little, I said, “Look, it hurts.”
His gaze swept coldly over my finger and landed on my face. He frowned slightly, let out a detached sigh, and said with obvious frustration, “The things you do don’t move me, Harper. You’re just moving yourself. And this self-sacrificing act of yours is putting a huge burden on me.”
He looked at the tears welling up in my eyes, hesitated for a second to choose his words, but still said it, “And I really don’t like you.”
“You’re a nice person, but I will never, ever be attracted to a girl with your personality. Do you understand?”
A girl with my personality.
I sat on the planter box by the sidewalk, resting my chin in my hands. I knew what Holden meant. I was painfully average. I wasn’t an overachiever. I blended into the crowd. I lacked discipline, loved to eat and sleep, and had no goals or plans for the future.
The person he liked had always been Stella Montgomery. They were the shining stars of the pre-law program, perfectly matching each other’s brilliance.
She was exceptional, independent, and had her own strong opinions. She would certainly never act like me—pathetically chasing after a man who didn’t love her.
After that, I disappeared from Holden’s world.
You have to know when you’re not wanted.
7
Later, my friends asked me, What exactly do you like about Holden Crawford?
Is it just his face?
He treats you like that, why are you so obsessed?
Why? Maybe it was because of that time I was walking back to my dorm from off-campus, and I saw him in the woods near the North Gate, feeding a stray cat.
It was pouring rain. He held an umbrella with one hand, squatting on the muddy ground with meticulous patience, coaxing the filthy, shivering kitten out from under a bush.
Then, he gently hid the dirty kitten inside his jacket to keep it dry and took it back to his dorm.
His profile in that moment was so incredibly gentle. I stared at him in a daze. Even though I was holding an umbrella, I felt like a torrential downpour had just flooded my heart.
I wanted to tell him that I was a stray cat, too. I was abandoned by my parents when I was little, and I grew up wandering just like that.
If he could be so gentle to a filthy stray kitten, would he ever look at me with that same tender expression?
But thinking about it now… he gave all his tenderness to everyone except me.
8
Holden came back a week later. I had been lying on the living room couch for a week.
But it was strange. He obviously had his keys, yet he stood at the door, knocking persistently.
As if someone was going to jump out and open it for him.
When I was alive, every time he came back from a business trip, I would time it perfectly and wait by the door.
Sometimes his flight would be delayed, so I’d sit on the stairs. The moment his silhouette appeared, I’d practically tackle him, wrapping my arms around his neck in sheer joy.
Because every day we were apart, I missed him terribly.
He would pry my hands off his neck and say coldly, “Stop messing around.”
I would always prepare a lavish dinner. I knew he didn’t eat well during his business dinners, and his stomach was ruined from his younger days.
So, my specialty was making soothing, easy-to-digest comfort food.
He must have been knocking for a while because Mrs. Higgins, our next-door neighbor, opened her door and said, “Holden, you’re back from your trip?”
“Stop knocking. Harper isn’t home. I haven’t seen her in almost a week.”
“Did you forget your keys? Harper left a spare with me just in case you ever forgot yours and she wasn’t home. Do you need it?”
After a moment, I heard Holden’s voice. It sounded like it was being squeezed from the very depths of his throat—hoarse and low. He said, “No need.”
He used his own key to open the door.
Then he stood frozen in the entryway.
He had left in a hurry the day of his trip. The balcony curtains were drawn, making the apartment look dark and gloomy. The spray roses on the coffee table had completely withered and died. The house was a mess: a half-empty teapot, molding fruit in a bowl, a half-eaten bag of chips, and fine dust floating in the stagnant air.
Oh, and my ashes. Placed in the complimentary small box from the crematorium, sitting right next to the dead spray roses.
When I was alive, the house had never been this messy. Because this was our home.
We were both people without families. When we finally built this little nest, I cherished it deeply. I always kept it comfortable and spotless.
God knows how badly we both wanted a home.
He stood there for a very long time before finally stepping inside. He pulled back the curtains. My clothes were still hanging on the drying rack on the balcony. He froze for a second. Just when I thought he was going to throw my clothes into the trash, he took them down, folded them on the couch, and started mopping the floor and cleaning the apartment.
I never knew the house could be this quiet. It felt like, aside from the sound of breathing, there was absolutely nothing else.
After finishing all those chores, he sat exhaustedly on the couch alone.
I studied him closely.
He had lost a lot of weight on this trip. His eyes were bloodshot, and his stubble was unkempt.
He was a high-powered, immaculate lawyer. Had his case with Stella Montgomery not gone well?
Just as I was thinking that, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
He had actually quit smoking a long time ago. I don’t know why he started again.
He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. His eyes were wide open—hollow, cold, devoid of emotion. He smoked one cigarette after another.
Then, for some reason, he spaced out again, until the ash from the cigarette fell onto his palm, startling him back to reality. After a long time, I saw his lips move.
I drifted closer and heard him whisper, so softly: “Harper.”
That name… it was spoken so faintly, it felt like a hallucination.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “411839”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
On the anniversary of my father’s death, Mom and I went to pay our respects.
Mom suddenly wanted to place something inside Dad’s urn.
But when the staff member brought out the urn, Mom and I froze instantly.
Because the photo on the urn in front of us wasn’t my dad at all—it was some stranger.
I demanded an explanation from the staff member, my voice shaking.
“What’s going on? Why is there someone else’s ashes in my father’s plot?”
Mom clutched her chest beside me, her heart condition nearly flaring up from the shock.
“We’ve been paying our respects to the wrong ashes for twelve years? Then where are my husband’s ashes?”
The staff member had never encountered this situation before.
He quickly checked the system, then looked at us with confusion.
“Are you sure you came to the right cemetery? I just checked—we don’t have any deceased person with the surname Thompson in our records.”
“Impossible!”
My tone was firm.
“When my father died, I personally placed his urn in this plot. I couldn’t have made a mistake!”
Mom chimed in to support me.
“That’s right. We still have the purchase contract for this plot at home. How could your cemetery not have any records of a Thompson?”
Seeing how certain we were, the staff member logged into the system again to check.
But the result was the same as before.
No records of anyone named Thompson.
At that moment, the manager rushed over after hearing about the commotion.
He bowed repeatedly to Mom and me in apology.
“I’m so sorry, this is all a misunderstanding. Last year we expanded the cemetery, and to avoid disturbing the deceased, we temporarily moved all the urns to the funeral home. The staff must have been careless and mixed up the ashes. We’ll fix this immediately. Please, come wait in our office.”
“Mixed up?”
My eyes widened, anger creeping into my voice.
“Why didn’t you notify the families before moving the ashes during your expansion? If Mom hadn’t wanted to see Dad today, would we have ever found out?”
“This is entirely our mistake, entirely our mistake!”
The manager wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
“I completely understand your feelings, but right now the priority is finding your father’s ashes. Please just wait a moment.”
I wanted to argue with him further, but Mom, still clutching her chest, stopped me.
“Forget it, Evelyn. Take me somewhere to sit down and let them find your father’s ashes first. We can’t miss the time to leave flowers for him.”
Looking at Mom’s haggard face, I could only swallow my anger for now.
“Fine. Find my father’s ashes first. After we’ve paid our respects, we’ll discuss how to handle this.”
With that, I led Mom to their office.
The manager nodded vigorously behind us.
“Yes, Ms. Thompson, don’t worry. We’ll notify you the moment we find them.”
In the office, I poured Mom a glass of water to help calm her down.
Ever since Dad’s company went bankrupt twelve years ago and he jumped to his death, Mom had developed a heart condition.
Over these years, she’d had to care for Grandpa and Grandma while supporting me through high school, with no time to see a doctor.
On top of that, she’d been paying off the debts Dad left behind from the bankruptcy.
Life had been incredibly hard.
Fortunately, I’d succeeded in starting my own business.
Not only had I paid off all of Dad’s debts, but I’d also saved quite a bit of money.
I’d originally planned to take Mom to get proper treatment for her heart after paying our respects to Dad.
I never expected something like this to happen.
Thinking of this, I asked Mom.
“Mom, what were you planning to put in Dad’s urn?”
Mom’s expression softened a bit as she pulled a bead from her bag.
” A couple days ago I went to the chapel and got this blessed rosary bead for your father. The priest said if I put it in the urn, it would help him have a better time in heaven ”
Mom’s superstition made me want to laugh and cry at the same time, and my tense mood relaxed slightly.
Just then, a staff member came to get us.
“Ms. Thompson, we’ve found your father’s ashes.”
Mom and I exchanged glances and immediately got up to return to the plot.
The manager handed me Dad’s urn with an apologetic expression.
“Ms. Thompson, you were right—it was mixed up. It was mistakenly placed in the plot next to yours. Now that we’ve found it, please confirm it’s correct and we’ll put it back right away.”
I took the urn and glanced at it.
The photo on top was indeed my father.
Seeing Dad’s portrait again, I couldn’t help but tear up.
Mom quietly wiped away tears beside me.
“If everything’s correct, I’ll put it back now. The urn shouldn’t be exposed to sunlight—it’s bad luck.”
I quickly handed the urn back to the manager.
“It’s fine. Go ahead and put it back.”
“Wait.”
Mom suddenly spoke up, pulling the bead from her bag.
“Let me put this inside first.”
Before the manager could respond, Mom opened the lid of the urn, preparing to place the bead inside.
But the moment she opened the lid, her expression darkened.
“You’re saying these are my husband’s ashes?”
“Yes, isn’t that Mr. Thompson’s photo on the urn?”
Mom put the bead back in her bag and stepped backward.
“These aren’t my husband’s ashes at all! When he was cremated, I placed our wedding rings in his urn. There’s nothing like that in here! Where did you hide my husband’s ashes?”
I stepped forward and looked into the urn.
There were indeed no rings inside!
“Where are my father’s ashes? What kind of cemetery is this? Did you lose my father’s ashes and just randomly grab someone else’s to cover it up?”
The manager’s face had already gone pale when he heard Mom’s words.
Now he stammered, unable to get a word out.
Other people who’d come to visit their loved ones noticed the commotion and gathered around us.
“Your cemetery can’t even protect the deceased’s ashes properly? How can we trust leaving our loved ones here?”
“What if something happened to our relatives’ ashes too? I demand to inspect mine!”
“Exactly! You need to give us an explanation. Paying respects to a complete stranger—that’s disgusting!”
Seeing him remain silent, I’d had enough.
I pulled out my phone.
“Since you can’t give me a reasonable explanation, you can explain it to the police instead!”
I was about to call the police.
Seeing me reach for my phone, the manager finally broke his silence and pressed down on my hand.
“Don’t call the police. Let’s talk this through.”
“Talk it through?”
I glared at him.
“My father’s ashes are still missing and you won’t explain what happened. What is there to talk about?”
Mom joined in loudly.
“Exactly! You’re running a shady cemetery! My husband has been buried here for twelve years—who knows when you switched him out for someone else! We have to call the police!”
The crowd’s emotions were equally heated.
“That’s right! Call the police! You have to call the police!”
Under the enormous pressure, the manager finally cracked.
He raised his hand and shouted.
“Your loved ones’ ashes are all fine!”
Then he turned to look at me, forcing out a sentence with difficulty.
“Your father’s ashes aren’t missing because we lost them. Someone else claimed them!”
As his words fell, the surroundings instantly went quiet.
The onlookers who’d been making a fuss all turned to stare at me in unison.
I froze, instinctively asking.
“What do you mean? What do you mean someone else claimed them? Besides us, who else would my father give his ashes to?”
Mom became agitated too.
“What’s going on? How could you hand over my husband’s ashes to just anyone?”
After revealing this truth, the manager explained what had really happened back then.
Apparently, before my father’s company went bankrupt and before he jumped to his death, he’d left behind a suicide note.
In the note, he’d left all his remaining assets to a woman named Madison.
He’d specifically instructed the manager to give his ashes to that woman as well, and to make absolutely sure we never found out.
So at the time, the manager found an unclaimed body and pretended those were Dad’s cremated ashes.
For twelve years, we’d been paying our respects to a complete stranger’s ashes.
Dad’s real ashes had been taken out shortly after we placed them in the plot, and handed over to that woman.
During last year’s cemetery expansion, a staff member noticed the photo on the urn was wrong and switched it back.
And because of that, we discovered today the truth that had been hidden for twelve years.
“I only got paid twenty thousand dollars for this. That amount of money isn’t worth going to jail for! I’ve told you the truth now—please don’t keep threatening to call the police.”
After hearing the manager’s explanation, I clenched my fists and asked through gritted teeth.
“So where are my father’s ashes now?”
The manager gave me an address.
“Last time I mailed her your father’s suicide note, I used this address. You can try looking there.”
On the way to that address, Mom sat in the passenger seat with an unusually calm expression.
“Evelyn, why do you think your father left his ashes to that woman?”
I already had an unpleasant suspicion forming, but I tried to comfort Mom gently.
“Mom, don’t overthink it. Maybe Dad had some reason he couldn’t explain. We’ll know when we get there.”
Mom didn’t respond to me.
She just stared out the window in silence.
I drove quietly too, flooring the gas pedal, wanting to reach our destination as quickly as possible.
When we arrived at the address, we found ourselves in front of a lakeside villa.
It looked quite expensive.
I walked to Mom’s side, supporting her slightly trembling hand.
After exchanging a glance with her, I rang the doorbell.
The person who opened the door was a young woman.
The moment she saw Mom, she froze.
Then, coming to her senses, she turned to close the door.
I quickly blocked the door with my hand and stepped forward, forcing the woman back into the house.
Seeing my aggressive stance, the woman spoke guiltily.
“Who are you? Why are you barging into my house? I’ll call the police if you keep this up.”
“You must be Madison, right?”
I cut straight to the point.
“You claimed my father’s ashes? Where are they now?”
The woman’s eyes instantly filled with panic, but she kept deflecting.
“What ashes? I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve got the wrong person.”
“Whether we have the wrong person or not, you know best.”
Mom suddenly spoke up from behind me.
“I’ve seen you before. You were a new intern at Thompson Industries. Your name is Madison Clarke, isn’t it?”
Seeing that Mom had recognized her, Madison stopped pretending and admitted her identity directly.
“Yes, I’m Madison Clarke. Your husband’s ashes are with me, but this was his own dying wish. He wanted to leave his ashes with me. You have no right to take them.”
“We have no right?”
Mom let out a bitter laugh.
“I’m his wife. This is his only daughter. How do we not have the right to claim his ashes?”
“But I’m the one he loved!”
Madison raised her voice and shouted.
“He stopped loving you, you old hag, a long time ago! He didn’t want you paying respects to his ashes at all!”
As her words fell, the smile froze on Mom’s face.
In that moment, something shattered in her eyes.
Madison grew more confident as she continued.
“You don’t even know, do you? We were together for a long time. He wanted to divorce you. If his parents hadn’t absolutely refused, I would be his wife right now, not you.”
“Shut your mouth!”
I cut her off sharply.
“What you’re saying has no evidence! Who knows if you’re just making things up?”
“You want evidence? Fine, I’ll show you!”
Madison went to a drawer, pulled out an envelope, and slammed it down in front of me.
“This is a suicide note your father wrote himself. See for yourself!”
I was about to reach for it, but Mom stopped me.
She extended her own hands—rough and worn from years of hard work—trembling as she picked up the envelope and slowly opened it.
Inside was Dad’s familiar handwriting.
The contents were simple, just a few short sentences, but they instantly brought tears to Mom’s eyes.
Because everything written there expressed Dad’s feelings for Madison and their time together.
At the end, he’d left all his remaining assets to Madison.
Even this villa had been specifically set aside for her.
As for Mom and me, he’d left us nothing.
Nothing except a mountain of debt we could never fully repay.
You have to understand—this villa alone was worth enough to pay off all of Dad’s debts.
But he’d given it to Madison without hesitation, leaving Mom to work herself to the bone for over a decade, slowly paying back those debts bit by bit.
In that instant, all the blood in my body rushed to my head.
Right now, I wanted nothing more than to scatter my father’s ashes to the wind.
Mom’s hands trembled as she finished reading the letter, tears finally breaking free and streaming down her face.
Seeing this, Madison lifted her chin smugly.
“Do you believe me now? Just leave. With this suicide note, there’s no way you can take your husband’s ashes.”
I couldn’t control my emotions anymore either.
After helping Mom sit down on the couch, I strode toward Madison.
“Where are his ashes? Hand them over now!”
“I’m not giving them to you—”
*Slap!*
I raised my hand and struck her hard across the face.
Madison’s face whipped to the side.
She stared at me in disbelief.
“You hit me?”
I flexed my wrist and threatened her coldly.
“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. If you don’t hand them over right now, I’ll beat you until your own mother wouldn’t recognize you. After all, that suicide note can’t prove one hundred percent that my father wrote it. I could easily say you stole my father’s ashes. I just lost control for a moment out of anger.”
With that, I grabbed a fistful of her hair and, ignoring her screams of pain, yanked her toward me.
“Talk! Where are my father’s ashes?”
At that moment, a familiar voice suddenly came from the doorway behind me.
“Evelyn Thompson, what do you think you’re doing? Let go of Madison right now!”
In an instant, every hair on my body stood on end.
Because that voice belonged to my father—my father who had been “dead” for twelve years.
I stiffly turned my neck and looked back.
Standing in the doorway was a man.
It was my father.
He was alive.
He hadn’t died.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app
🔍 search for “382316”, and watch the full series ✨!
#NovelMaster
My husband, Ethan Pierce, wants me to sign an infidelity agreement.
Article Three of the agreement: twelve opportunities to cheat per year, unused chances can be converted to cash.
I smiled and signed it.
From then on, I purchased various contraceptives and sex toys for him.
I took excellent care of my husband and his lovers.
Those lovers humiliated me: “That old hag is so pathetic. Does she really think she can keep Ethan’s heart by acting like a dog?”
I still didn’t cry, didn’t make a scene, and didn’t file for divorce.
Instead, every year, I collected a payout of thirty-six million dollars.
Every second, I waited for that bastard husband to die.
After all, Ethan Pierce had no idea.
His HIV test had already come back positive long ago.
The sixty-eighth time.
When the nauseating moans from the master bedroom finally stopped, I swallowed the PEP pill in my mouth and put on protective gloves before daring to push the door open.
Bit by bit, I cleaned up the disheveled, obscene mess of the room.
The next second, the frosted bathroom door was yanked open.
Ethan Pierce walked out bare-chested, supporting a young woman who could barely stand.
“Ouch, I told you it was my first time. Did you have to be so rough?”
It was Sophie West, the new intern at the company — fresh, beautiful, like a rose with thorns.
The two of them flirted and laughed, but when they saw me, the warmth in Ethan’s eyes plummeted.
“Fast work.”
He pulled out a black card and casually tossed it onto the messy sheets stained with spots of blood.
“Get the most expensive bedding set. Keep whatever’s left and buy yourself some handbags.”
His voice sounded like he was dismissing a beggar.
I numbly walked over, bent down, and picked up the card.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene.
Because Ethan Pierce had no idea.
Six months ago, I’d found the medical report of his previous lover. Positive.
And not only had I quietly concealed it, I’d also prayed to every god I could think of — and received confirmation that Ethan Pierce had tested positive too.
Childhood sweethearts. A power couple.
Seven years of marriage. I never imagined that one day, I’d be hoping for Ethan Pierce to die.
Seven years ago, when Ethan used half of the Lynn family assets as startup capital and became the leading business tycoon in Crestwood, he knelt before me and said I was the only true love of his life.
When he knew I was overseas on a business trip missing home-style cooking, he’d fly over ten hours just to cook me a table full of dishes himself.
But after my family went bankrupt and Ethan handed me an agreement allowing him to “cheat twelve times a year,” I went from being the pampered elite wife he held in the palm of his hand to the maid who cleaned up after his hookups.
If love could be performed, then I’d perform until he lost everything…
After all, with one month left until his onset period, I was only one step away from completely destroying Ethan Pierce.
“You clean up. I need to take this call.”
The ringtone interrupted my thoughts.
Ethan kissed Sophie for a few seconds, answered the phone, then turned and headed to the study.
In the enormous bedroom, only Sophie and I remained.
I watched Sophie — who had just kissed Ethan and been infected again — sit brazenly at my vanity without the slightest hesitation, picking up my bottles and jars and smearing them recklessly on her neck.
I smiled. “If you like them, I’ll give them all to you later.”
Through the mirror, Sophie looked at me with contempt, a provocative smile curling at the corner of her mouth.
“Smart of you to know your place. So what if you’re childhood sweethearts? You’re still just a washed-up old woman.”
“Ethan said that because I gave him my first time, I’m his only true love. And without me, he’d rather die.”
“So, Lydia Lynn, do you really think a marriage certificate can hold onto Ethan?”
True love… I laughed.
Didn’t she know? She was already Ethan Pierce’s sixty-eighth true love.
Looking at Sophie’s young, ignorant face, remembering how she’d just bragged about her first time, out of what little pity I had left, I looked at her with a hoarse voice.
“Ethan Pierce has too many women around him. He’s not clean. If you’re smart, you should leave him as soon as possible.”
But that sentence seemed to step on her tail.
Sophie shot up, her pretty face instantly twisting. She raised her hand and slapped me.
The crisp sound echoed in the empty bedroom.
My cheek burned with pain, and the metallic taste of blood exploded in my mouth.
“Leave? You bitch! You’re just jealous of me! You just can’t stand seeing Ethan treat me well!”
She screamed, her eyes reddening, then turned and ran toward the study, crying and shouting as she ran: “Ethan! Your wife is bullying me! She said I’m dirty! She’s forcing me to leave you!”
The study door burst open.
Ethan Pierce strode out, his face showing the impatience and fury of being disturbed.
Without asking any questions, seeing Sophie crying like a pear blossom in the rain, then seeing me covering my face, he delivered another slap, viciously striking my other cheek.
“Lydia Lynn, no matter how jealous you are, you’d better fulfill the agreement! I give you money, you do your job as the maid!”
I fell to the ground, my ears ringing.
Through blurred vision, I watched Sophie coyly throw herself into Ethan Pierce’s arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, her face full of smug satisfaction.
“Ethan, don’t be angry. Let’s do it again, okay? I really want to give you a baby.”
“Okay, whatever you want.”
Ethan Pierce lowered his head and kissed Sophie’s forehead.
Before entering the room, he glanced at me like I was trash and coldly ordered: “When we’re done, wash those sheets clean.”
“Okay.”
I nodded silently, watching their backs disappear.
Since Sophie wouldn’t listen to my warning, getting infected was no one’s fault but her own.
That evening, after professional disinfection personnel finished sanitizing the villa, I had just changed into my pajamas when the villa’s door lock suddenly turned.
Ethan Pierce had come back.
He carried a strong scent of perfume and alcohol, his steps unsteady.
I instinctively tried to dodge, but he suddenly grabbed me from behind, his scorching breath spraying on the back of my ear, his voice hoarse and suggestive.
“Seeing me with others, you must be missing me too, right? Tonight, I’ll pamper you, okay?”
With that, his kiss came crashing down.
In that instant, my stomach churned.
I was not only disgusted by his touch, but terrified of infection.
“My period… just started.”
I firmly held back his chest.
Ethan’s movements froze.
I took the opportunity to turn aside, my voice extremely low: “Don’t touch me.”
The man released his grip, stepped back, and the lust on his face was quickly replaced by disgust.
“Playing high and mighty? Your period isn’t today.”
He tugged at his shirt collar, his gaze sweeping over me from top to bottom, as if examining an expired product.
“You won’t let me touch you, right? There are countless women outside waiting in line for me. Lydia Lynn, you’ll regret this someday.”
He sneered, grabbed his car keys, and slammed the door without looking back.
As the engine roared, I made one phone call, and a complete disinfection and cleaning crew rushed in.
Smelling the gradually spreading scent of disinfectant, I clutched the folded blank equity transfer agreement in my pocket.
Tomorrow, as long as he signed this document, his three most core holding companies would be transferred, without his knowledge, to the shell companies I’d set up in advance.
This was the entire meaning of my endurance through sixty-eight times.
The next morning, at Pierce Group headquarters.
As the CFO, I had just exited the elevator when I saw the CEO’s office door standing open.
Sophie West was wearing a barely-there camisole dress, half-sitting on Ethan Pierce’s desk, legs crossed, bossing around the head of administration.
“This month’s team-building budget is too low. Ethan said to let me choose the restaurant. The one I picked averages three hundred eighty dollars per person. Go change it.”
The admin manager looked troubled, glancing at me as if seeking help.
Sophie noticed me too, and smiled.
That kind of smile, like a cat catching a mouse.
She hopped down from the desk, waving a stack of receipts as she walked up to me.
“Ms. Lynn, help me sign off on this reimbursement, will you? Last month’s personal expenses — Ethan said to expense them through the company.”
I took it and scanned it… eighty-six thousand dollars.
Luxury goods receipts, medical aesthetics treatments, an invoice for a couples’ hot spring hotel.
“Exceeds approval authority. Against regulations. Can’t sign it.”
I handed the documents back.
Sophie’s smile froze for a second, then she turned and ran into the inner office.
Less than ten seconds later, Ethan Pierce stormed out with a livid face.
Three executives who’d just finished a meeting were still standing in the hallway.
In front of everyone, he threw the stack of reimbursement forms viciously in my face.
Papers scattered across the floor, one slicing past my eye, bringing a faint sting.
“Lydia Lynn, is your brain rusted?”
“Sophie is my woman. Over a little money, you’re pulling the legitimate wife act?”
The hallway was so quiet you could hear the air conditioning hum. The three executives kept their heads down; no one dared look at me.
Seven years ago, I had injected all of the Lynn family assets into this company.
This building, this floor of offices, even the land beneath our feet — all of it was bought with my dowry.
And now, in front of the executive team I’d built with my own hands, he was making me reimburse expenses for his mistress.
I bent down and picked up the receipts one by one.
“Fine. I’ll sign.”
After all, once you’re dead, I can take it all back.
After everyone dispersed, Sophie slowly sauntered over to my side.
She deliberately circled behind me, leaning close to my ear, her voice as light as a honey-coated needle.
“Ms. Lynn, last night when you wouldn’t let Mr. Pierce touch you, he came to me again.”
She stroked her lower abdomen, her eyes full of smugness.
“Mr. Pierce is really something. What if I get pregnant… shouldn’t the position of Mrs. Pierce be handed over?”
Pregnant?
Perfect.
Looking at her young, arrogant face, endless excitement surged in my heart.
I didn’t speak, only showed a submissive, almost humble bitter smile.
“Ms. West is right. Mr. Pierce… really does love you most.”
With that, I pulled out the blank agreement from my bag, along with the reimbursement forms that had just been thrown in my face, and respectfully handed them to Sophie.
“Ms. West, please also have Mr. Pierce sign these financial reports.”
Sophie paused, then quickly took them, her face filled with satisfaction.
“Should’ve been this sensible from the start. I’ll be the boss’s wife of this company sooner or later anyway.”
Perhaps my submissiveness pleased Sophie greatly. Before long, Ethan Pierce, with one arm around Sophie, tossed the stack of documents mixed with the contract onto the desk in front of me.
On top were three characters… Ethan Pierce.
Written with flourishing strokes.
Signed right on the agreement worth thirty-four percent equity.
Got it.
“Oh, by the way…”
Ethan Pierce finally looked up, as if remembering something, and said casually: “The company scheduled annual executive physicals tomorrow. Family members included. I registered Sophie too.”
He turned to look at Sophie, gently pinching her chin with affection: “Maybe you’re already pregnant, babe. Might as well get checked.”
Physical examination. Full panel.
My mind buzzed instantly.
If Ethan Pierce had blood drawn tomorrow, the positive results would come back within forty-eight hours at the earliest.
Given his personality, his first reaction wouldn’t be fear — it would be rage. A full investigation.
Investigate the source of infection, investigate everyone around him, investigate finances, investigate the company…
Then the last equity swap funds I hadn’t finished transferring would be frozen overnight.
Sixty-eight times of endurance, five years of planning — all reduced to zero.
I couldn’t let him get blood drawn tomorrow.
Absolutely not.
At six o’clock the next morning, I stood in the kitchen, a packet of brown powder in my palm.
prune juice concentrate — colorless, tasteless. Mixed into warm milk, it would only cause several hours of severe diarrhea. Completely untraceable.
I placed the milk on Ethan Pierce’s designated black coaster.
Seven years. I knew his habits better than he knew them himself.
At exactly seven o’clock, Ethan Pierce came downstairs in his crisp suit and sat down punctually.
But just as his hand touched the cup…
“Ethan!”
Sophie came running in fuzzy slippers, plopping herself into Ethan Pierce’s lap, coquettishly snatching the glass of milk.
“I want some too. I’m the lady of this house — everything should go to me first.”
She deliberately glanced at me, then tilted her head back and drained the entire glass in one go.
My hand holding the fruit plate froze in mid-air.
Sure enough, by the time they left, Sophie’s face had turned pale.
And just as the car got onto the elevated highway, she suddenly clutched her stomach, instantly breaking into a cold sweat.
“Ethan… my stomach hurts so much…”
Ethan Pierce’s expression changed immediately. He grabbed her and shouted at the driver: “Turn around! To the nearest hospital!”
Sophie vomited three times. The last time, she was practically semi-conscious, collapsing in Ethan Pierce’s arms.
When he carried her rushing into the emergency room, his eyes were red.
And I was summoned by his furious phone call.
“Lydia Lynn, you can’t even make a fucking breakfast right? Did you deliberately give her diarrhea!”
The roar on the other end was so loud even the taxi driver glanced over.
When I arrived at the VIP hospital room, I saw Ethan Pierce crouching by Sophie’s bedside, carefully tucking in her blanket, his gaze as tender as a different person.
He heard footsteps and shot to his feet.
A glass of cold water came crashing down.
I was knocked to the ground in an instant.
Ice-cold water ran down my hair, face, and neck, soaking the collar of my blouse.
A cut opened on my forehead, blood seeping out.
In front of three nurses and an attending physician, he pointed his finger almost at my forehead: “If it weren’t for your dead father’s sake, I would’ve kicked you out long ago!”
My dead father.
He had the nerve to mention my dad?
He’d had the chance to save my father with just three million dollars, but didn’t my dad still jump to his death?
I lowered my eyes. Water droplets slid from my lashes, like tears, but they weren’t.
“If anything happens to Sophie…” Ethan Pierce gripped my jaw, the force nearly dislocating it: “I’ll make you pay with your life.”
“I’m sorry… it was my fault. But the medical center… are we still going?”
Wiping the water from my face, I asked timidly.
“Go? Go where!” He waved his hand irritably. “We’ll go after Sophie recovers. Reschedule for next week!”
Ethan Pierce turned away from me and sat back on the edge of the bed, intertwining his fingers to hold Sophie’s hand again.
That image was so tender, it reminded me of three years ago.
I’d hemorrhaged from a miscarriage in the ER, called him seventeen times, and every single call went unanswered.
I found out later that he’d been celebrating girlfriend number thirty-four’s birthday that night.
I was lost in thought when…
Buzz.
Ethan Pierce’s phone suddenly exploded with sound.
He frowned and answered, but less than five seconds in, his face turned from iron-blue to deathly pale.
“What did you say?!”
On the other end, I heard it — the finance department’s voice trembling: “Mr. Pierce, there’s an abnormal flow of three hundred million dollars from the company accounts!”
“The system shows the approver is… Mrs. Pierce.”
The air in the hospital room instantly froze.
Ethan Pierce slowly turned his head, those bloodshot eyes nailing themselves onto me.
“Lydia Lynn, give me an explanation.”
Ethan Pierce’s Adam’s apple rolled. The room was so quiet you could hear the monitor beeping.
I panicked.
After all, panic was exactly the reaction I should have.
Lowering my head, I clumsily pulled a document from my bag, hands trembling slightly as I handed it over.
“This… I discovered it last week. I checked — someone hacked my authorization in the approval system. The funds flowed to… the account for that villa in Heron Bay.”
Ethan Pierce’s pupils shrank violently.
That was the residence of his sixty-seventh mistress, Yvonne Zoe, whom he’d dumped just a month ago.
The breakup had been ugly. Yvonne had even threatened to expose him, but Ethan had silenced her with a lawyer’s letter.
Ethan Pierce snatched the report, his eyes flying over every line of data.
Then, gritting his teeth, he threw the report down.
“That bitch!”
After cursing, he didn’t look at me again.
After all, in Ethan Pierce’s world, Lydia Lynn was just a dog.
Would a dog bite?
No.
That night, I sat in the darkness of the study, the blue screen light reflecting on my face.
When I pressed Enter for the last time, my finger was steady.
Over the past thirty days, the old Lynn family guard had completed the final round of capital swaps.
The core assets and underlying equity structure of Pierce Group had been hollowed out by me, thread by thread, over seven years.
From the outside, Pierce Group still looked glamorous.
But the bones were gone.
I closed the laptop, walked to the window, and looked out at the city’s night view.
A month later, at Pierce Group’s year-end gala.
Under crystal chandeliers, Ethan Pierce appeared on the red carpet with Sophie on his arm, camera flashes crackling.
I was seated at the most remote table in the corner, without even a nameplate, sitting with three drivers from supplier companies.
Ethan Pierce stood on stage holding a wine glass, confidently describing his business empire.
He looked much worse than a month ago.
Sunken eyes, night sweats, and then swollen lymph nodes appearing on the side of his neck.
Ethan Pierce thought it was just too much socializing and not enough rest. A few days ago, he’d gone for a checkup, gotten an IV drip at a private hospital, and taken a few fever reducers.
This time I didn’t stop the checkup. I didn’t need to anymore.
After all, what’s coming will come.
At the gala’s climax, Ethan Pierce suddenly called my name.
The entire ballroom went silent.
He threw a document in front of me, his tone like ordering a servant to pour water: “Sign it. Just a formality. Sophie likes the garden at the old Lynn estate. I’ve already transferred the deed to her name. You don’t mind, do you?”
I looked down and made out the line: Lynn Family estate Property Transfer Agreement.
That was my father’s last possession before he jumped.
That was the courtyard where my mother had grown magnolia flowers for twenty years.
That was the only place I could still call home in these seven years of hellish existence.
One mistake in a hundred calculations. My hands began to tremble.
This time, they were really shaking.
I finally looked up at him with reddened eyes: “Ethan Pierce, do you have to be this ruthless?”
He looked down at me like an ant blocking his path.
“Lydia Lynn, don’t be ungrateful. Without me, you wouldn’t even have the right to stand here. Sign it, and you’re still Mrs. Pierce.”
“If you don’t sign…” He didn’t finish, but of course he didn’t need to.
Sophie walked over with a wine glass and high heels, deliberately thrusting out her waist, smiling broadly: “Ms. Lynn, Mr. Pierce dotes on me now. If you still want to be Mrs. Pierce, be smart about it, won’t you?”
I bit my lip, my hand holding the pen still trembling.
Over three hundred pairs of eyes in the room watched me — some sympathetic, some indifferent, most just watching the show.
And just as I was about to sign…
Bang!
The side door of the ballroom was violently pushed open.
The private doctor I’d bribed, pale-faced and sweating, clutching an urgent report in trembling hands, stumbled in.
His voice exploded across the entire hall, uncontrollably shaking: “Mr. Pierce! Something terrible has happened… Your physical examination report…”
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app
🔍 search for “382315”, and watch the full series ✨!
#NovelMaster