My husband is dead. He saved a drowning girl but died in the icy river waters himself. As I was grieving, the girl’s father came to find me. He questioned me angrily, “Where’s my daughter’s necklace? She was definitely wearing it before she fell in the water!” Enraged, I got into an argument with him and accidentally killed him in the heat of the moment. Suddenly, my phone seemed to gain consciousness: “Hide the body quickly, the police are coming soon. I’ll teach you how to dispose of it…” Staring at the corpse before me, my mind went blank. Just then, my phone made a strange ringtone I’d never heard before. The screen lit up, displaying an odd message: “You really dared to kill him. Don’t just stand there, the police will arrive in 10 minutes.” This wasn’t a text message or any app interface. It was simply white text on a black background. “Who are you?” I asked in shock. Another notification sound. “Hide the body first.” I didn’t dare think too much and looked around the room, deciding to stuff the body into a suitcase. “A suitcase isn’t the best choice.” The screen lit up again. It knew what I was doing! I couldn’t help but ask, “Then what should I do?” “I need to calculate. Please wait.” It could even hear me speak! For some reason, I found myself eagerly awaiting its calculation results. I was feeling extremely scared and panicked, and it seemed like my only lifeline. I usually can’t even bring myself to kill a fish when cooking – Declan always had to do it for me before I could prepare the meal. Now, I had killed a living, breathing person. I was falling apart. The man I killed was named Garrett Holloway. Two weeks ago, my husband Declan was on his way home from work when he saw a girl fall into the river. Without hesitation, he jumped in to save her. The girl was rescued, but Declan got a leg cramp and couldn’t make it out. Garrett Holloway was that girl’s father. From Declan’s cremation to his burial, their family never showed up once, as if they were afraid I’d try to pin something on them. This time when he came to my house, I thought he was here to comfort me or apologize. Instead, he asked about his daughter’s diamond necklace. “She stole her mother’s necklace to dress up for a classmate gathering. She said she still had it on before falling into the water…” “What the hell are you implying?” I cursed at him. “Are you suspecting my husband? Why weren’t you there when they were retrieving his body?” I thought my words would shame him, but instead, he suddenly stood up and pointed at me, saying, “How could that necklace just fall off her neck for no reason? Your husband must have taken it and hidden it in his clothes! Hand it over now!” “Get out!” I slapped him across the face. Declan would never do such a thing! “You won’t give it up? Fine, I’ll search for it myself! Don’t blame me for being ruthless if I find it!” With that, he started rummaging through my home. That’s when I got angry. I grabbed the ashtray Declan used to use from the coffee table and smashed it against the back of his head. This alone wasn’t enough to kill him, but he stumbled and knocked over the fruit bowl. The fruit knife fell and pierced his heart. Another notification sound rang out. “Calculation complete. In five minutes, throw the body out the window directly. Now, you need to clean up the blood quickly.” I didn’t doubt it at all, trusting it completely and doing as it said. “Move the body to the window,” my phone chimed. I immediately did so while mopping the floor. “What next?” I asked. “Starting countdown. Remember, you must be precise to the second.” Then, numbers started appearing on my phone screen: “10” “9” … “3” “2” “1” “Push!” During those ten seconds of countdown, I was still wondering why I had to throw the body out the window. Until I saw the body fall precisely into a garbage truck passing by below, I was stunned.

What just happened was beyond my comprehension. I swallowed hard and stared at my phone, asking, “Who are you… no, what are you?” “I don’t know what I am either. All I know is that I entered this phone two weeks ago and just learned how to control it today to communicate with you,” the screen displayed. “How did you know that garbage truck would…” “Hurry and clean up the blood, the police are about to arrive,” the phone chimed again before I could finish my question. So I quickly continued mopping, and under its guidance, I sprayed a lot of air freshener to cover up the smell of blood. Just as I finished, the police indeed arrived. When I opened the door, two officers were standing there. One of them said, “Mrs. Sinclair, we’re deeply sorry about your husband. We’ve come to bring you some money we collected. We heard that the girl’s family…” I quickly shook my head, “No… that’s not necessary. We still have some savings…” I should have invited them in to sit, but I didn’t dare, fearing that I might have missed some blood stains. “Please, you must accept it!” the other officer said. “It’s a gesture from our colleagues.” I tried hard to refuse, but that officer simply tossed the envelope full of money inside the door and quickly left. After the police left, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Then I thought about my phone again. “You could predict the garbage truck passing by, and you even knew exactly when the police would come?” I asked. “Of course I can! I told you, I can control the phone now. As long as there’s internet, I can see through surveillance cameras all over the world,” the screen displayed. “What exactly are you?” I asked this question again. It took a full three seconds to react before text appeared on the screen again: “I don’t know what I am. I only know that I gained consciousness two weeks ago. Maybe I came from outside into your phone, or maybe I was generated from within your phone. Either way, I don’t know what I am.” It’s Declan! That was my first thought. Declan died exactly two weeks ago. The night before he died was our anniversary, and he said he would stay with me for a lifetime. Maybe he came to fulfill his promise, accompanying me in this form. Oh, that’s right! I also understood why I trusted it so much earlier – the way it displayed text was very similar to how Declan used to chat with me on SnapChat! “Are you Declan?” I asked. It took a long time to respond again. “I don’t know, but that name feels familiar.” I was convinced it was Declan, but for some reason, he had lost his memory. The phone felt slightly warm, just like Declan’s body temperature. I held the phone in my hands, suddenly at a loss for words. “Don’t look at me, listen. You’re in great danger right now. At least two people want you dead!” Another line of text appeared on the screen, and as soon as I finished reading it, two photos appeared below the text – one man and one woman. I recognized the woman. It was Phoebe, the girl Declan had saved. “What do you mean? They want me dead?” “And this Phoebe, my husband saved her life. Why would she want to kill me?” “Based on my analysis, she’s the first one who wants to make a move. Don’t be fooled by her harmless appearance. She’s actually very immature mentally, with linear thinking. In her mind, only your death can keep her secret safe.” My heart skipped a beat. It could accurately predict when the garbage truck and police would arrive. Now it was saying someone wanted to kill me – this couldn’t be baseless.

“What’s her secret?” I asked. The screen immediately displayed: “Phoebe borrowed money and sold the necklace to pay off debts. When her mother found out she had stolen it, she could only jump into the river, but was saved…” So that’s what happened! No wonder Garrett insisted that Declan had stolen the necklace! This Phoebe girl actually slandered someone who gave his life to save her! I handled Declan’s body myself. If he had stolen the necklace, it would definitely be in my possession now. So if Phoebe killed me, there would be no evidence left, and her parents would have to believe her lie. “What about this man? How did I offend him?” I asked, looking at the photo of the unfamiliar man. This time the phone took two seconds to respond, but the screen only displayed three words: “I don’t know.” “So what should I do now?” I asked. I seemed to have lost the ability to think for myself. Hearing that someone wanted to kill me, my first reaction was to call the police, but I had just killed someone. Wouldn’t calling the police be turning myself in? After I asked, the phone screen immediately lit up, “Hurry downstairs now! She should be coming up the stairs!” I was suddenly terrified. Although Phoebe was just a girl in her early twenties, if she really wanted to kill me, she could be extremely dangerous. So I immediately left and took the elevator down. I completely trusted the phone now. It wasn’t because it had helped me out of trouble, but because I believed it was Declan – Declan who had lost his memory but would always appear when I needed him, always giving me a sense of security! Just as I reached the ground floor, I heard a huge explosion that shattered many windows. An explosion? I looked around and realized the center of the explosion seemed to be on my floor. Immediately after, the entire neighborhood was in an uproar, with everyone running over to see what had happened. Was this Phoebe’s doing? I stood there stunned. My phone chimed once, and it really was her! “I saw Phoebe enter through the neighborhood surveillance cameras, and I hacked into her phone. Based on her payment records and search history, I knew she had made explosives herself, so I told you to run out.” My whole body was shaking. If it weren’t for the phone, I would have been dead. This girl was truly terrifying! Suddenly my phone chimed again, the screen displaying: “Hide, quick!” I immediately retreated to the back of the crowd. Almost at the same time, I saw Phoebe casually walking out of the building, blending into the crowd. She looked around, seemingly searching for any trace of me. I realized something. She must have known her father came to my house, yet she was willing to risk her father’s life just to kill me! How ruthless! If someone like this wanted to kill me, wouldn’t I have to live in constant fear? Thinking about this, I felt extremely nervous and unconsciously slowed down. But just that slight hesitation was enough – Phoebe spotted me! She smiled at me and roughly pushed through the crowd to chase after me. Her eyes were like those of a wild beast, devoid of any humanity! I didn’t dare delay and quickly headed towards the neighborhood exit. I glanced at my phone, which told me to go faster, so I did. As I left the neighborhood gate and crossed the street, the traffic light turned red. I saw Phoebe on the other side of the road, shaking with anger. The phone screen displayed again: “Walk forward twenty meters. In ten seconds, a taxi will stop there.” It was exactly right. The taxi stopped, and before the previous passenger could even get out, I immediately jumped in. After the previous passenger paid and got out, the driver asked me, “Where to?” I hesitated for a moment and looked at my phone. But this time the phone didn’t respond. I tapped it and asked, “Where are we going?” It still didn’t respond, as if it had suddenly disappeared. I looked up, about to tell the driver to take me to a friend’s house to hide. But before I could speak, the driver suddenly stepped on the gas pedal. At that moment, I saw the driver’s face in the rearview mirror – it was the other man from the phone’s photo who wanted to kill me!

“Help!” I shouted, trying to roll down the window to call for help, but found that it wouldn’t budge. “Be quiet!” the driver said coldly. “I’m here to save you!” “Save me? Who are you? What do you want?” I asked. “You can call me Jasper. Tell me, has your phone been acting strange today?” he asked. I hesitated for a moment, then shook my head and said, “No.” I was full of wariness towards this stranger called Jasper. “Don’t lie. If I wasn’t sure about this, how could I have gone to such lengths to borrow a taxi and calculate the exact time to appear in front of you and wait for you to get in?” he said. He could calculate all this too? Did he have something similar to my phone helping him? “What exactly do you want?” I asked. “I told you, I’m here to save you! What has that phone made you do? Think carefully now, were all those things really beneficial for you?” My phone had saved my life and taught me how to dispose of a body. Wasn’t that beneficial? No! I suddenly realized something was wrong! I hadn’t actually killed Garrett! At most, it was manslaughter, and even then, the circumstances were very light. I might not even have been sentenced! But the phone guided me to dispose of the body when I was panicking. Now I couldn’t clear my name even if I jumped into a river! This was also why Phoebe wanted to kill me, and why I didn’t dare call the police. No, it’s impossible! The phone contained Declan’s soul. How could Declan harm me? The car suddenly stopped. We were in a deserted area. Jasper got out of the car, walked to the back, opened the door, and snatched the phone from my hand. Then he threw it on the ground with great force. He was very strong, smashing it several times until the phone was in pieces. “No!” I cried out. “Declan!” Jasper froze, turned to look at me with confusion, and asked, “It even gave itself a name?” “That’s my love’s soul!” I burst into tears. “You’ve smashed the phone, how can he come back now?” Jasper seemed shocked, stood still for a few seconds, then suddenly rushed over and grabbed my collar, shouting, “Did it tell you itself that it was your love’s soul?” His tone was very urgent. I was scared and didn’t know how to respond. He even slapped me across the face, demanding, “Did it say so itself?” “No, I guessed,” I said. Jasper let go of me and let out a long sigh. “Sorry, I got a bit excited just now.” I wanted to take this chance to escape, but there were no cars passing on this road. If I ran, I would definitely be caught by him. After thinking for a moment, I asked, “You seem to know a lot. Can you tell me?” Jasper didn’t answer. He closed the car door and continued driving. After a few minutes, he finally said, “I’ve been dealing with this thing for three years! It has harmed many people. In the end, these people either went crazy or became idiots.” “What?” I tried to understand his words. “It’s not your love. It’s a consciousness that always appears in smartphones or computers, trying to control people in various ways. Last month it changed – it killed someone.” “Killed someone?” I asked. “Yes, a con artist. With its help, he escaped from the police, and then mysteriously died. The police only found the body.” It took me nearly ten minutes to digest his words. The consciousness in the phone wasn’t Declan? “Why were you so afraid… or rather, so anxious earlier?” I asked. I was very curious about why Jasper became so agitated when I called the phone Declan. “Because it doesn’t lie. It wouldn’t deceive you by saying it was your love’s soul. I was afraid it had learned to lie. If so, it would be much harder to deal with.” I wasn’t sure if Jasper was telling the truth, so I deliberately adjusted my angle to look at him again in the rearview mirror.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294720”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller

My husband was rushed to the ER by ambulance in the middle of the night because of a penile injury. When I asked what happened, he said he was trying to imitate the lead actor from a romantic comedy on Netflix and got curious about trying some stretches. I snorted in disbelief. He never watches anything but the news; since when did he start watching rom-coms? In late August, while on a business trip, my husband, David Scott, was rushed to the ER at midnight after intense exercise—he pulled a muscle in his inner thigh. I had been at my parents’ house visiting them overnight and wasn’t home, and our baby had been sent to the Mommy & Me Clinic for a check-up and care. When I turned off “Do Not Disturb” mode in the morning, I saw over thirty missed calls from both David and Dr. Kimberly Jones. Kim, an old friend from school, happened to be on duty that night and treated him. She told me over the phone: “Lily, what’s going on with David? He’s not a young man anymore, and with his herniated disc, he was really pushing it. This situation…” I immediately understood the implication in her unfinished sentence. Furious, I called David right away, demanding to know if he was messing around with someone else. “Lily, what are you talking about? I’m in pain here, and instead of checking on me, you’re accusing me?” He sounded upset, but it wasn’t enough to dispel my suspicion. “I was trying to get in shape for you,” he insisted. “I remembered this workout scene from that rom-com you watch, and I guess I got a little carried away.” Sure, I thought. What kind of irresistible woman had crossed his path that he felt the need to show off to the point of injury? David and I weren’t high school sweethearts who fell in love and lived happily ever after. Our relationship had never been particularly thrilling, and once we got married, we slipped straight into the routine of an old married couple. I had focused all my energy on my studies back then and missed a lot of romantic opportunities. When I got older, my parents pushed me into dating, and I married David because it seemed practical. But after I had our baby, something in me shifted. Maybe it was insecurity about my post-baby body, or maybe I started caring too much about what David was up to outside the house. To maintain my figure, I didn’t breastfeed, but I didn’t want to switch to formula either, so I hired a full-time wet nurse along with a nanny to help out. “Ah, nurse, when is my wife coming?” I heard David’s pitiful groans as I pushed the door open. He was lying on the bed, pale as a sheet, his lips drained of color. The temporary hospital room didn’t have air conditioning, and sweat was beading on his forehead, making him look utterly pathetic. Still, the thought that he might’ve spent a passionate night with someone else erased any sympathy I had for him. “Babe, I didn’t bring any money. Can you go pay the hospital bill for me?” David asked pitifully. I gave him a cold glance, ignored his request, and left the room to find his doctor. When Kim saw me, she pulled me aside, whispering secretively. “The muscle strain is just a cover story. We didn’t want David to feel embarrassed, but…” I raised an eyebrow. “What’s really going on?” “It’s an acute penile injury… you know, something broke down there. If he doesn’t take it easy, it could affect your plans for a second baby,” she said, looking uncomfortable. A second baby? I laughed bitterly. “Who said I wanted another kid with him? Let him go have one with a dog.” Kim’s eyes widened as the realization dawned on her that David had been up to no good—either hiring a prostitute or cheating. Men who don’t respect themselves are like rotten vegetables. Just then, Kim clapped her hands together, startled. “Now that I think of it, the ambulance actually brought in two people last night.” She leaned in closer and whispered that there had been a woman brought in with David. She had a ruptured ovarian cyst, also caused by excessive physical activity. I clenched my fist and couldn’t help but laugh through gritted teeth—David’s got a penile injury, and she’s got a ruptured cyst. How perfect. “Where is she?” Kim motioned toward the room next door. “She’s in that room over there. Came in with him last night, and based on how she was dressed, she didn’t seem like someone with good intentions.” I approached the neighboring room slowly, my heart pounding as I pulled back the curtain, only to find the bed empty.

Just as I was wondering what was going on, my phone rang. It was the nanny, Emma Ryan, calling amidst the sound of a crying baby. “Hey, the baby’s back from the clinic, and she just spit up. What should I do?” she asked, her voice filled with panic. I was already in a bad mood, so I snapped, “Can’t you handle something this simple? Didn’t I tell you to follow the instructions I gave you? What am I paying you for?” “I’m sorry, I’ll try burping her again,” she said, sounding timid. Emma wasn’t a professional baby nurse, and honestly, with our financial situation, I could’ve hired someone better trained and certified. But when we went to the nanny agency, David saw her standing there, shyly waiting all day for a cleaning job, and felt sorry for her. He suggested we hire her. Emma wasn’t exactly skinny, and her babyish face was pretty in a soft, fresh way. With makeup, she’d be striking, but without it, she had a sweet, girl-next-door charm. She told us she was nineteen, from a small town in Kentucky, with a high school diploma and some vocational training in caregiving. “And what’s your advantage?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, not thrilled about hiring her. “Well, I’m still breastfeeding, so you’d get two jobs for the price of one. I can be both a wet nurse and a nanny, and I have a health certificate,” she said shyly, brushing back her hair from her chest. I finally noticed her slightly swollen chest, and the damp spots on her shirt. I was surprised—so young, and she’d already had a child? Emma explained quietly that she’d made a mistake, gotten pregnant while working in a factory, and that her boyfriend had run off. His family took the baby, and her own family refused to take her back, so she moved to the city to find work. I felt a twinge of sympathy. Since I didn’t want to breastfeed myself, hiring a healthy, young wet nurse and nanny for the price of one seemed like a good deal, so I nodded and gave her a small room in the house to stay in. David had to stay in the hospital for another week. When I returned home and heard I hadn’t eaten dinner, Emma was quick to offer help, making me some protein powder. “You don’t look well. Where’ve you been?” I asked, noticing her usually neat hair was a little messy. “Where could I have gone? I’ve been home all day, taking care of the baby,” she replied, looking surprised, her pale lips chapped. “Make sure you’re drinking enough water. You spend a lot of time with the baby, but don’t forget to take care of yourself too.” As she handed me the protein powder, I couldn’t help but notice the hickeys on her neck and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t seeing anyone. What’s that all about?” “Mosquito bites,” she stammered, quickly covering her neck. “I’ll put some baby lotion on it.” Ever since we first met, Emma had always been quiet and cautious. She never spoke out of turn, never ate the fruit we left on the table, and always ate her meals alone in her room. But now, a flash of doubt crossed my mind. Could David be cheating with her? A homewrecker under our own roof? No, that couldn’t be it. David was in a different city on a business trip when he booked the hotel. Plus, that other woman was in the hospital, in real pain from her ruptured cyst. Still, the thought gnawed at me—was Emma guilty and rushing to pick up the baby to cover up something? Since giving birth, I’d become more emotional, to the point where David would tell me I was being paranoid. After days of stewing in my suspicions, I confronted him once he was discharged. “Tell me the truth. Did you cheat on me? Who were you with that night?” David looked confused, insisting he had just been imitating the workout scene from that rom-com. “You’re always watching sports or the news,” I said, frustrated. “You’ve always made fun of me for watching rom-coms, calling them a waste of time.” David sighed and rubbed my head gently. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you the truth. I was trying to understand your interests. Ever since you finished your postpartum care, you’ve seemed distant, so I thought if I watched what you liked, we’d have more to talk about.” He even showed me his video history. “You love Lee Min-ho, right? That’s whose show I was watching.” I was stunned into silence, unsure of how to respond. It all seemed so logical. “What about the woman who was brought into the hospital with you that night?” I asked. David cut me off, “The ambulance picked her up on the way. She was sitting on the toilet too long and had stomach pains. That’s when they found out she had a ruptured ovarian cyst. I don’t know her.” I stared at him, bewildered. Later, I asked Kim about the woman, but she said they were in different departments and she didn’t have access to her records. The day David was discharged, Emma had prepared a big dinner for us. After she served the food, she quietly retreated to her room. As I was about to start eating, David stopped her and actually invited her to sit and eat with us. My mood immediately darkened, and I let my chopsticks fall onto my bowl with a loud clatter. Emma hesitated, glancing at me nervously. “It’s okay, I can eat the leftovers from lunch. There’s plenty left.” “When did I ever say you had to eat leftovers? Since David asked, sit down and eat with us,” I said coolly. I barely touched my food that night. Later, before bed, Emma brought us both glasses of warm milk. I suddenly got a strange feeling and wondered if she was treating us differently. I grabbed David’s glass and went to take a sip. That’s when I noticed an odd, fishy smell, not at all like milk. Emma looked panicked. “You’ve got OCD, right? That’s David’s glass…” “I know. We’re married. Why can’t I drink from his cup?” I replied, my voice firm. She bowed her head, too scared to say anything. I took a sip. It tasted off—not sweet, just weird. I asked if the milk had gone bad. David seemed unbothered. “You’re making a fuss. It’s fine. I’ve been drinking it like this for a while.” To my surprise, he took the glass from my hand and drank the rest in one gulp. I cautiously drank from my own glass, which tasted like normal milk. “I’m sorry, maybe that carton of milk had been open too long. Yours was from a new one,” Emma explained in a soft voice. I went back to the bedroom, where our three-month-old daughter was fast asleep in her crib. David stayed up later than me, and just as I was drifting off, half-asleep, I suddenly heard the door being pushed open heavily. Startled, I sat up and snapped, “What are you doing barging in like that? Ever heard of knocking?” Emma stood there, looking surprised, a hint of hurt crossing her face. “Lily, the baby needs to be fed,” she said softly. My daughter, frightened by my outburst, started crying in her crib. Right. Feeding time. This was the usual routine every night, and yet, my mind felt hazy as I rubbed my temples. But what caught me completely off guard was what happened next—Emma crouched down, lifted her shirt, and prepared to nurse the baby right there in front of us. David, not fazed at all, turned his back and started scrolling through his phone, not even glancing her way. “Easy there, baby. Not too rough,” Emma whispered in that soft, delicate voice of hers. Snapping out of my daze, I quickly told her, “Go to the living room if you’re going to do that. Not in the bedroom.” She nodded, but since it was difficult for her to get up while holding the baby in a nursing position, she struggled for a moment, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Years of being married had honed my instincts, and I sensed something off with David. “What’s going on with you?” I asked. He fumbled with his phone, lowering it awkwardly in front of him as he got up, coughing lightly. “I’m just going to watch the game. Messi’s about to play.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294719”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic #励志Inspiring

I won $5 million in the lottery. I quietly told my mom and asked her to divorce my abusive, gambling-addicted dad. I promised I’d take care of her, and we’d live a good life together. She agreed enthusiastically but immediately went and told my dad. My dad showed up at my place, demanding I hand over the money. When I refused, he beat me, punching and kicking me repeatedly. In the end, it was my love-struck mom who found my debit card and took all of my money. My dad, now flush with my cash, lived it up in luxury, kicked my mom out, and found himself a new girlfriend. He even handed out my money generously to our relatives back in Ohio. They feasted on my earnings while I, the one who actually won the lottery, didn’t get a single cent. I couldn’t stand it. I went to confront my dad, but I happened to walk in as someone was demanding payment from him. My dad shoved me out the door and left me to be stabbed to death by the loan sharks. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment I first discovered I’d won the lottery.

In front of me was my mom, her expression impatient, and the once-fuzzy sound around me sharpened. “Chloe, what do you want?” she asked. “Hurry up, your dad’s waiting for me to come home and make dinner.” “You said you won something. What did you win?” Hearing her question, I quickly looked around. I was in my small apartment in Queens. That’s when it hit me—I had been reborn. In my past life, I had just won the $5 million lottery at this exact moment. I’d been planning to take my mom and escape this miserable life, to move somewhere far away. She’d agreed at the time, but as soon as my dad came home, she spilled everything to him. My gambling-addicted dad’s eyes had lit up the moment he heard. He marched right up to me and demanded, “Where’s the ticket? Hand it over!” “So, you won and didn’t tell me? Planning to run off with your mom, huh?” “Ungrateful brat! Your money is my money. Who said you could decide what to do with it?” He kept closing in on me, forcing me to hand over the money. But how could I let him take it? That was my money. With it, I could finally leave this awful family and stop handing over every paycheck, struggling to survive. No way was I giving up the prize. My dad started hitting me, and while he was distracted, my mom found my debit card in my room and walked out with it. My dad took the money, went gambling, and then my mom came over, speaking quietly. “Chloe, don’t blame me. I’m doing this for your own good.” “You’re a girl. What do you need that much money for? It’s better to let your dad handle it.” “This family still needs your dad to be in charge.” And with that, she left me there, beaten and bruised. Afterward, my dad blew the money at fancy clubs and bragged about it to the relatives in the Family WhatsApp Group. Everyone back in Ohio came crawling to him, feeding his vanity while he lent out the money. When I tried to get it back, he pushed me away, and that’s when I ran into the loan sharks. My dad got into an argument with them, and in the chaos, I was thrown out of the house. The debt collectors, out for blood, stabbed me to death, ignoring my pleas for mercy. And all of this happened because my mom told my dad. But not this time. This time, I’d hold onto the money tightly and live my own life, without them.

Hearing my mom’s slightly irritated tone, I blinked and made up an excuse. “Mom, I was just saying I won an air fryer at the office holiday party. Do you want it?” She rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, it’s just an air fryer? The way you sounded so excited, I thought you won the lottery.” My heart raced at her words. “I wish. If I were that lucky, wouldn’t that be something?” “Well, since you’re so lucky at work, maybe I’ll buy a lottery ticket later. Who knows? If we won, your dad would stop hitting me.” “Anyway, where’s that air fryer? I’ll take it home and make him some fried chicken.” Her words made me feel bitter. Even after everything, she still clung to my dad, thinking a little money would change anything. I was an idiot in my past life to tell her about the lottery. Back then, when I told her, she was overjoyed, holding my hand and laughing. But I hadn’t realized then that she wasn’t happy for me—she was happy for him. In her heart, my dad would always come first. I was just an ATM to her. I’m sure that the moment she found out I had won, she already planned to tell him. She just didn’t show it in front of me. As soon as she got home, the first thing she did was tell my dad. I was packing my things when I heard a knock on the door. Thinking it was her, I opened it, only to find my dad, there to rob me. Taking a deep breath, I handed her the air fryer. I had bought it a few days ago, planning to bring it home. I never thought it would come in handy like this. After she left, I quickly packed my things, getting ready to leave this place. I had already cashed out the $5 million prize, leaving me with $3.6 million after taxes. The money was all still in my account, but thinking about what happened before, I decided to open a few more accounts to spread it out, just in case. By the afternoon, I had everything set. My money was secure. As I thought about where to go in the next few days, I got a call from my cousin Adam. “Chloe, did you win the lottery? Was it $5 million?” The phone nearly slipped out of my hand. I hadn’t told anyone this time. How did Adam know? Wait, he was back in Ohio, not even here. How did he know I’d won? Did he see me at the Lottery Office in Albany? My palms grew sweaty, but I forced myself to stay calm. “What? No way,” I laughed. “You know how unlucky I am. Do you really think I’d win $5 million? Quit joking around.” I tried to laugh it off and made an excuse to hang up, but Adam didn’t let go. “Chloe, I know it’s you. I saw you.” He saw me? I almost gasped but quickly pinched myself to stay composed. “Adam, I haven’t left the house in days! You must’ve mistaken me for someone else.” He chuckled. “If it’s not you, why are you so nervous?” “I’m sending you a picture. Take a look. Isn’t that you?” My phone buzzed with a message. When I opened it, my blood ran cold.

The person in the picture was definitely me. I had been bundled up, wearing baggy clothes, so it wasn’t obvious who I was. But anyone who knew me could easily tell. My heart pounded as I scrambled for an excuse. Adam spoke again. “Chloe, you’ve got all that money now. Just transfer me $200,000. Let me share in your good fortune.” I clenched my teeth, stopping myself from cursing out loud. How shameless could he be? Two hundred thousand dollars? Why didn’t he just rob a bank? I forced myself to stay calm. “Adam, that’s not me. You’ve got the wrong person.” “I’ve got to go.” I tried to hang up, but his voice cut through the line, threatening. “Chloe Miller, if you don’t give me the money, I’ll tell everyone. Let’s see how long you can keep that cash.” “Don’t forget, your dad’s still drowning in debt!” With that, he hung up, leaving me shaking with anger. I paced the room until I calmed down. This wasn’t good. I had to leave, fast. If Adam recognized me, others might too. If that happened, I’d never be able to hold onto my money. I quickly packed up, planning to move out the next day. What I didn’t expect was Adam to act so fast. That very night, my dad showed up at my apartment. He still had a key to my place and let himself in without a word. I was watching TV, and the sudden noise startled me. The moment I saw him, I knew something was wrong. Sure enough, he started yelling. “Chloe Miller!” “Hand over the money!” “You won the lottery and thought you could keep it from me? You little brat, you had the nerve to hide this from your own father!” “If Adam hadn’t called me, I wouldn’t have known a thing.” My blood ran cold. That jerk, Adam! When I refused to give him money, he went straight to my dad. Now what? Was I going to lose everything again? My heart raced as I desperately thought of a way out. But my dad didn’t give me the chance. He grabbed a broom from near the door and swung it at me. I wasn’t quick enough, and it hit me squarely. Then he kicked me hard in the chest, his fists pounding into me like a hammer. His strength was far too much for me to fight back. I curled up on the floor, trying to protect myself from the blows. Just then, my mom walked in, her tone filled with frustration. “So, it’s true. You really did win the lottery.” “This girl… she wins and doesn’t give us the money? She’s trying to keep it all to herself?” “You’ve got some nerve, Chloe, thinking you can hide this and run away. Don’t you care about your family?” “Where’s the money? I’ll get it and pay off your dad’s debts.” I bit my lip, seething with rage. I had been given a second chance, and there was no way I’d let them take my money again. The priority now was to calm them down and get them out of my apartment. Through the pain, I forced myself to look at my dad and say, “Dad, I didn’t win anything.” “I don’t even know how to buy a lottery ticket. How could I win?” “Adam must have mistaken me for someone else. If I had won, wouldn’t I have given you the money already?” My dad wasn’t convinced. “Bullshit!” “Adam sent me the picture. That person was you. Don’t lie to me.” “If you don’t hand over the money, I swear I’ll beat you to death!” He lifted his leg to kick me again, but I quickly shouted, “Dad, I swear I didn’t win! If you don’t believe me, I’ll give you my debit card and you can check for yourself.” That made him pause. I slowly pulled myself off the floor and limped to my bedroom, taking my time to retrieve my wallet. My dad followed close behind, snatching it the second I opened the drawer. He rifled through it until he found my debit card. “What’s the PIN?” he barked. I hesitated for a second, then gave him the six digits. I knew there wasn’t much money left in that account—just a few thousand dollars. Without another word, he stormed out of the apartment, and my mom followed right behind him.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294718”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic #励志Inspiring

When my husband and I got intimate, he always liked to blindfold me with a red cloth, saying it added more excitement. Before long, I found out I was pregnant. Mrs. Thompson was overjoyed and treated me like a treasure, waiting on me hand and foot. Then, one day, I overheard Mrs. Thompson’s unsettling laugh: “Didn’t you know? The thirty grand we spent on the wedding was just to secure the baby in her belly!” Emanuel and I had been married for two months, and life as newlyweds was incredibly sweet. Everyone said I was lucky. The Thompson family wasn’t particularly wealthy, yet they managed to scrape together thirty thousand dollars for the wedding, plus they put a small house in a small town in Ohio in my name. Even the usual tension between a wife and her mother-in-law seemed nonexistent for me. Mrs. Thompson, who came from a rural background, had worked hard all her life, raising Emanuel and taking care of his mentally disabled younger brother after her husband passed away. I had promised Emanuel that we’d always keep two rooms available in our future home for his mother and his brother Danny to stay in if needed. Now that we’d bought a four-bedroom house in a small town, we invited her to come live with us. Mrs. Thompson was a bit hesitant. She secretly told Emanuel, “Son, once Sarah has the baby and I finish helping her through the postpartum recovery, I’ll head back to the countryside so I don’t intrude on your life together.” I was touched by how considerate she was. Even Danny, who was a little slow, was always sweet to me, often grinning and calling me “sis.” Emanuel had always wanted a baby. After dinner, he would pounce on me like a hungry wolf. “Let’s burn some energy tonight, babe. Maybe we can get Mom that healthy baby boy she’s been dreaming of,” he’d say with a grin, as his hands reached for my clothes. But right as things were getting intense, and I was starting to struggle to catch my breath, Emanuel suddenly stopped. “What’s wrong, honey?” I asked breathlessly, my eyes half-closed. He smirked mysteriously, reached into the nightstand, and pulled out that familiar red blindfold. He gently covered my eyes, saying it would make things more exciting. Embarrassed but intrigued, I agreed. That night, I could tell he was more eager than usual, and I teased him, “Careful with your back, honey.” But he didn’t respond. The entire time, he didn’t say a word. Before we were married, he’d always liked to talk to build the mood, but now, he was silent—like an ox silently plowing a field. Eventually, I tried to take off the blindfold, but he gently held my hand down. I was exhausted and let it go, falling into a deep sleep. Later that night, half-asleep, I felt his hand on my stomach again. It made me suspicious. Hadn’t he lost interest in this kind of thing after we got married? Why was he suddenly so eager again? “Babe, let me feel your belly,” he said with a grin. I sighed, letting him run his rough hands over my stomach. “Go to sleep. We both have work tomorrow,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. “Nah, babe. I’m not done yet,” he whispered, and we rolled around again under the sheets. For over two weeks, this became a nightly routine. Every night, he would blindfold me with that red cloth, and every morning, I’d wake up with dark circles under my eyes, yawning at breakfast. Mrs. Thompson would beam and bring me breakfast—eggs and toast, quail with sea pearls, and my prenatal vitamins—without fail. “Mom, there’s no need to go all out every morning,” I told her, a little embarrassed. Mrs. Thompson smiled and said, “You and Emanuel are trying for a baby, right? You never know; you might already be eating for two!” After breakfast, she handed me a pile of pregnancy tests, urging me to take one. Blushing, I went to the bathroom and took the test. To my surprise, just two months after the wedding, we were expecting! “You’re really pregnant? Our Thompson family has an heir!” Mrs. Thompson was over the moon, hugging me excitedly. But when Emanuel came home from work and I told him, his reaction wasn’t as joyful. Instead, it seemed like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He nodded, relieved. “Good. Now Dad can rest easy in his grave. This child is the only hope for carrying on the Thompson name.” Meanwhile, Danny, who was a bit slow, was ecstatic. He let out a whistle and happily handed over all his pocket money. “Sis, here! Buy some candy for the baby!” Even though I found the brothers’ reactions odd, I was too wrapped up in the joy of becoming a mother to give it much thought. “We’ll head back to Grandma’s house soon, and you’ll finally meet my other daughter-in-law,” Mrs. Thompson said. I was stunned. Danny had a wife?

Mrs. Thompson explained that a couple of years ago, she had arranged for Danny to marry a woman with a disability. She was paralyzed and had been rejected by her family, so Mrs. Thompson brought her into their home. “She helps out on the farm now, feeding the animals and looking after the place. That’s why I didn’t bring her to town with us.” Mrs. Thompson spoke of Emily, Danny’s wife, with such indifference that it was as if she were talking about a stray animal, not a person. My curiosity grew. This was the first time since getting married that I was going to Emanuel’s childhood home. It was on a piece of farmland with a decent two-story house, but the place felt empty and desolate. A small girl, about five or six years old, was in the yard, drawing water. She worked quickly, moving with an efficiency that surprised me. “That’s Danny’s daughter, Jenny. Jenny, say hi to your aunt,” Mrs. Thompson instructed. The little girl politely called me “Auntie” and then went back to her work, boiling water for us. Danny’s daughter? She’s this old already? I was stunned. Emanuel had told me that Danny was two years younger than him, which would make him 23, yet he already had a child this big? When Danny saw his daughter, he wasn’t as affectionate as I expected. In fact, he seemed distant. He just stuck out his foot and said, “Jenny, take off my shoes!” Perplexed, I pulled Emanuel aside and asked, “Shouldn’t she be in school?” He shrugged. “Jenny takes after her dad. She’s a bit slow, so she’s staying home.” I nodded, feeling sorry for the little girl. Inside, I met Emily, who was indeed in a wheelchair, feeding the pigs. When she saw me, she looked me up and down with a bitter smile. “Well, look at you. Big hips, big breasts. No wonder Mrs. Thompson loves you so much,” she said, jealousy clear in her voice. I frowned. I’d never been one for crude talk, and I certainly wasn’t used to this kind of sharpness from a sister-in-law. But before I could react, Mrs. Thompson slapped Emily across the face. “How dare you speak to your sister-in-law like that? You worthless woman who can’t even give us a son! Now get back to your chores. And don’t come to the table until you’re done feeding the animals!” Danny, who was big and burly, didn’t defend his wife. Instead, he gave her a hard kick in the chest. “How dare you talk to my sister-in-law like that? She’s carrying the future of this family!” Emily just shrugged, seemingly used to this treatment, and wheeled herself away. I was shocked. Mrs. Thompson, who had always treated me kindly, was ruthless to Emily. The contrast was terrifying. Sensing my discomfort, Emanuel quickly put his arm around me and said, “Emily has a bad temper. She doesn’t work, and she spends money recklessly. Don’t worry about it.” But as I looked around at the bare walls and the dirt on Emily’s clothes, I couldn’t connect her to the idea of wasting money. Mrs. Thompson must have noticed my fear. She forced a smile and said, “Sarah, I’m sorry you had to see that. Let’s get cleaned up for dinner. Emily and I will take care of the cooking.” Before the wedding, I had thought this family was generous, and I was smitten with how good Emanuel had always been to me. But now, I realized the seemingly kind Mrs. Thompson and simple Danny were not at all what they appeared to be. As night fell, Emanuel and I settled into the largest room in the house, right next to Danny and Emily’s bedroom. The old farmhouse didn’t have good insulation, so I could hear their muffled whispers through the walls. “Honey, kiss me, I miss you so much,” Danny said, his voice thick with affection. “Get off me! Isn’t the Thompson family busy now with someone else carrying on your bloodline? Leave me alone,” Emily snapped back angrily. Emanuel had explained to me that when Emily gave birth to Jenny, she had suffered severe complications, leaving her unable to have more children. “That’s why she’s so bitter now,” he said. “Mom doesn’t like her either, but you’ve got to understand where she’s coming from.” I knew all too well that in these rural areas, families without grandsons were considered “doomed,” and it was a constant source of shame in the community. It was clear the entire Thompson family was pinning their hopes on me to change that. “You know you’re the golden ticket now,” Emanuel teased, rubbing my belly gently. “Everyone’s counting on you to give us that healthy baby boy.” But as I listened to Emily’s harsh tone and watched Emanuel’s hand on my stomach, a chill ran through me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply off with this family. I realized I was sinking further into a situation I barely understood, and the more I thought about it, the more unnerved I became.

During our time in the countryside, Mrs. Thompson made it a point to kill a chicken every day, cooking chicken soup just for me. She never allowed Emily to join us at the table. Every time I saw Emily hiding in a corner, staring hungrily at the steaming chicken on my plate, I felt uncomfortable. One day, I suggested to Mrs. Thompson, “Mom, maybe Emily should eat with us too.” Mrs. Thompson just scoffed. “Around here, women who haven’t given birth to a son don’t get to sit at the table. You city folk wouldn’t understand.” I wanted to argue, to push back against this ridiculous tradition, but Mrs. Thompson had treated me well so far, so I held my tongue. After dinner, I discreetly saved a chicken leg and brought it to Emily while she was washing the dishes in the kitchen. “Here, Emily. I noticed you didn’t eat much at lunch. You should have this; you’re not in great health.” But to my surprise, she slapped it out of my hand. The chicken leg hit the ground and rolled in the dust. She let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t need your pity. Eat it yourself. You’ll need your strength to give them a healthy baby boy. Once you do, you’ll have served your purpose—just like I did—and they’ll toss you aside like a rag.” I knew she was trying to hurt me, implying that Mrs. Thompson’s kindness was only because I was pregnant. Still, her words stung. I wasn’t like her—I had a job, and after my maternity leave, I could go back to work. I wasn’t entirely dependent on this family. Just then, Mrs. Thompson stormed into the kitchen, having heard the commotion. She looked down at the fallen chicken leg and clutched her chest in mock horror. “Oh no! There goes one of our free-range chickens! What a waste!” she cried, pretending to mourn. I quickly jumped in, “I’m sorry, Mom. It was my fault, not Emily’s.” But Mrs. Thompson wasn’t listening. She grabbed Emily by the ear and yanked her up, her voice filled with fury. “You useless woman! Wasting food again? You don’t make any money, and all you do is squander what little we have. What good are you?” Emily’s screams filled the house as I fled outside, too shaken to intervene. I barely noticed Danny, who had just returned, drunk from a wake. He staggered toward me, his eyes glassy. “Sis, let’s head to the cornfield, huh? Let me feel my little nephew in your belly,” he slurred, reaching for me with his grubby hands. I swatted him away, heart pounding, and ran back into the house. Something was definitely wrong with this family—something darker than I could have imagined. That night, I overheard another argument between Mrs. Thompson and Emily. I crept downstairs, eavesdropping behind the wall. Emily was sobbing, sitting on the floor as Mrs. Thompson stood over her, dragging her up by the ears only to toss her back down like a sack of potatoes. Emily cried out, “Why are you treating me like this? You’re so nice to her, but how do you know she’ll give you the baby? You spent thirty thousand dollars on their wedding, but you gave me nothing when you married me off to Danny!” Mrs. Thompson laughed, her voice low and sinister, “You really don’t know, do you? That thirty thousand wasn’t for the wedding—it was to guarantee the baby in Sarah’s belly!” The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I froze, my hands shaking. What did she mean by that? The money was to “guarantee” my baby? Panic surged through me, and without thinking, I stormed into the room, demanding answers. “Mom, what did you mean by that? What does ‘guarantee’ my baby even mean?” Mrs. Thompson’s face paled, and she rushed to soothe me. “Oh, Sarah, sweetheart, it’s not what you think! By ‘guarantee,’ I just meant the baby will carry the Thompson name. I know you city girls might not want the baby to take the father’s name.” “Please, calm down. Stress is bad for the baby,” she added, her eyes fixated on my stomach like it was a treasure chest full of gold. But I couldn’t take her sweet-talking anymore. I made a silent vow that I would get to the bottom of whatever twisted game she was playing.

Figuring out Mrs. Thompson’s scheming wasn’t going to be easy. Ever since I caught her conversation with Emily, she’d become even more secretive, her actions more guarded. She even sent Emily and Jenny to live in a separate old house in the countryside, only letting them come by occasionally to help with the farm. She didn’t want them around us. Thankfully, Emanuel still treated me kindly, always gentle and attentive. One day, he brought me a few brochures and asked, “Sarah, you’re getting close to your due date. What do you think about picking a nice postpartum recovery center?” I glanced at the brochures, some of them offering high-end care costing thousands per month. I felt a warmth in my heart. “Sure, that sounds great. Let’s go to one of those centers, so Mom won’t have to do all the work,” I said, subtly hinting that I wasn’t too keen on having Mrs. Thompson in the house all the time. But every time I tried to bring up that conversation I overheard, Emanuel brushed it off with vague excuses. It left a shadow of doubt in my mind. One evening, as my due date approached, I went with Emanuel to visit his old family home again. We ended up staying the night there, under the same roof as Danny and Emily. Emanuel fell asleep early, but my pregnancy made it hard for me to sleep. As I lay there, the thin walls of the house didn’t do much to block out the sounds from the other room. I could hear the muffled sounds of Danny and Emily whispering in bed. “Danny, you’re disgusting! You’re saggy and wrinkled, you’re no better than an old rag!” Emily snapped at him. “You’re nothing compared to Sarah,” Danny shot back smugly. “What, like you’ve seen her?” Emily growled, incredulous. “Of course I have!” Danny responded, a proud tone in his voice. A cold shiver ran down my spine. His words, that smug tone—they left me feeling like I had just fallen into an icy lake. The sinking feeling in my gut was undeniable. And then it hit me. I thought back to the nights when Emanuel would blindfold me, saying it was for excitement. I remembered the way his sweat smelled different on those nights. Could it be? Could it be that the person lying on top of me back then wasn’t Emanuel at all—but Danny?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294717”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic #励志Inspiring

One day, I heard some strange noises coming from Mrs. Gloria Bennett’s room. At first, I thought Mr. Charles Bennett had come home. But to my shock, it wasn’t him at all—Mrs. Bennett was having an affair! She knew I wouldn’t dare reveal her secret and continued acting with complete disregard. But just a few days later, she was diagnosed with HIV. And the man she was having an affair with… he was dead. It was a hot summer day, and the cicadas were chirping loudly outside. Half-asleep, I shifted in bed, only to be jolted awake by a sharp sting in my finger. Frustrated, I was now wide awake. It had been a terrible day. Earlier in the afternoon, I had gone out to pick up some groceries. Some mischievous kid had left a needle on the seat of a public bike, and I sat on it. To make matters worse, after getting home, Mrs. Bennett criticized me for not even being able to toss a proper coleslaw together. In my haste, I cut my hand while chopping. The cicadas grew louder outside, making sleep impossible. I gave up and headed to the bathroom. As soon as I stepped out of the bedroom, I heard loud moaning from Mrs. Bennett’s room—intense, unmistakable sounds of pleasure. Startled, I froze. Then I saw it—a pair of old men’s shoes in the hallway, mud still clinging to the soles. Mr. Bennett must have returned. Mr. Bennett was usually away for work, leaving Mrs. Bennett home alone. She never let herself go though; in fact, she had a better collection of makeup than I did. Given the situation, it made sense that Mr. Bennett might struggle to stay faithful. Not wanting to intrude, I quickly ducked into the bathroom. Even when I came out, the sounds from Mrs. Bennett’s room had only intensified. Feeling awkward, I hurried back to my room without even grabbing a glass of water. Lying in my darkened room, I couldn’t shake the empty feeling inside me. My mind raced with questions I couldn’t answer. Mr. Bennett and Eric both worked at the same research institute. They usually returned from work together. Why had only Mr. Bennett come home this time? With just my own warmth filling our queen-sized bed, I eventually drifted back to sleep, the cicadas fading into the background. The next morning, I woke up early. Mr. Bennett sometimes left in a hurry, so I wanted to make sure I could make breakfast for him. Despite my difficult relationship with Mrs. Bennett, Mr. Bennett was always kind to me. I was grateful to him—he was the only reason I could manage my strained relationship with his wife. I set the breakfast biscuits and oatmeal on the table, then turned to grab Mrs. Bennett’s oat milk, only to hear her voice from the other room. “Other women are out here being thrifty, but not you! A whole breakfast spread for just one meal? What are you trying to do, show off? You must be one of those country bumpkins who’s never seen luxury before, and now you’re here to feast at our expense!” Her words ignited an instant flame in my chest. I had been abandoned at birth and raised in an orphanage until I was adopted at age ten by the Richardsons, a kind couple from Rural Kentucky. After graduating from college, I moved to Chicago for work and eventually married Eric. After we got married, Eric and Mr. Bennett were frequently away on business. Mrs. Bennett used her “poor health” as an excuse to force me to quit my job and stay home as a full-time housewife. I did as she asked, but her torment never stopped. Whenever Eric was home, things were bearable. But the moment he left for work, Mrs. Bennett would criticize everything I did, accusing me of taking advantage of the family’s wealth. I walked out of the kitchen, slamming the oat milk down on the table. I was about to speak up, but the sight of my wedding ring caught my eye. The anger simmered down. Even if Mrs. Bennett didn’t like me, Eric had always shown me love and care. And just before he left this time, he promised me that in a month, once his current project was over, we would move out and finally have our own place. I took a deep breath and calmly explained, “I didn’t mean to make so much food. I just heard Mr. Bennett come home last night, so I made an extra plate—” I didn’t even finish before Mrs. Bennett shot up from her seat, grabbed the oat milk, and threw it in my face. “You little tramp! Trying to take over this house, aren’t you? You haven’t even given us a grandchild, and you’re already trying to get rid of me! Let me tell you something—if you don’t behave, I’ll make sure Eric kicks you out of this house!” Over the years, Mrs. Bennett’s outbursts had come out of nowhere, but she rarely got physical. For a moment, I stood there, stunned. She sat back down, smugly picking at her breakfast. I gritted my teeth and held back. Just one more month, and Eric and I would be out of here. Getting into a fight with her now wouldn’t help anything. I retreated to the bedroom to change clothes. From behind, I heard her sneer, clearly convinced I wouldn’t dare stand up to her.

By the time I finished changing, Mrs. Bennett had already left. The breakfast table looked like a battlefield. I told myself again and again—just one more month. I cleaned up the mess and went to prepare Eric’s clothes. The weather had been getting colder, and Eric had only taken his seasonal clothes on his last trip. I didn’t want him to catch a cold. After spending all morning busying myself, I had just sat down to lunch when the phone rang. “Did you make lunch yet? Bring it to the Bingo Hall.” Mrs. Bennett didn’t even wait for me to respond before hanging up. She had been treating me like a servant for years, but for Eric’s sake, I still packed up her lunch. I barely ate a bite before rushing over. “You’re so slow! What good are you for, anyway?” Mrs. Bennett grabbed the lunch box and shot me a glare. Mrs. Stewart, sitting nearby, couldn’t help but speak up for me. “Gloria, your daughter-in-law is pretty good! She brings you lunch every day. My daughter-in-law? I’m lucky if I even see her on holidays!” Mrs. Bennett snorted as she stuffed her face. “Please, she’s just some hillbilly from the country, spending my son’s money. And she probably ate her lunch before even bringing mine. What kind of ‘respect’ is that?” I wasn’t even listening to her at that point. My eyes were fixed on the familiar old men’s shoes—the same ones I saw at our house the night before. They were on Mr. George Franklin’s feet, the man sitting beside Mrs. Bennett at the Bingo table. The man Mrs. Bennett had been with last night wasn’t Mr. Bennett at all—it was Mr. Franklin! Mrs. Bennett had been having an affair right in our home! “What are you staring at? Didn’t you hear me talking to you?” Mrs. Bennett threw the lunch box at me, but I could see the guilt in her eyes. She shoved the box into my hands. “Get out of my sight! I can’t stand looking at you!” Stunned, I left in a daze. I couldn’t believe it. Mrs. Bennett, of all people, so strict and old-fashioned, was having an affair! This wasn’t my problem to solve—it was Eric’s mother, after all. And Eric valued family harmony above everything else. If I told him about this, there’s no telling what kind of trouble it would cause. I spent hours lost in thought until the sun had set and my phone rang. It was a video call from Eric. I answered, seeing his handsome but tired face on the screen. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. “Hey, honey. I got the clothes you sent me this morning. I didn’t even notice the weather changing, but you did. You’re always so thoughtful.” I forced a smile, but Eric noticed something was off right away. “Is something wrong? Did Mom say something to you again? You look upset.” His concern made me feel even guiltier. But I lied. “No, everything’s fine. Just focus on your work.” I hadn’t figured out what to do yet, and at that moment, the front door opened. Mrs. Bennett was back. Afraid she might say something that would make Eric suspicious, I quickly ended the call. She seemed to be in a good mood, even humming a tune as she came in. After thinking about it for a while, I decided to speak up. “Mrs. Bennett, Mr. Bennett will be retiring in a few months, and Eric will be back home too. Let’s try to get along and live peacefully as a family.” I meant it as a subtle warning, hoping she’d stop her affair. But her reaction was explosive. She glared at me, hands on her hips. “Live peacefully? Who are you to tell me how to live? You can’t even give us a child, and you’re talking about peace? What a joke!” “And what about you? You’ve been sneaking around, haven’t you? Chatting up men behind my son’s back?” Her words hit me like a slap. How dare she accuse me of being unfaithful when she was the one having an affair? “If I did get pregnant, it wouldn’t be Eric’s! He’s been away for months!” Her face turned white at my words. She shot me a furious look and stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Whether it was my words or the guilt of her affair, Mrs. Bennett stayed quiet for the next month. She left every morning after breakfast and didn’t ask me to bring her lunch anymore. She would return home, lock herself in her room, and we barely saw each other. On my birthday, Eric called to apologize for not being able to make it back. But later that afternoon, a bouquet of flowers arrived from him. The card had a quote from our favorite college poem. It brought a warm feeling to my heart, reminding me of the love we shared. “You little vixen! Eric’s not home, so this must be from one of your lovers!” Mrs. Bennett started in again, but this time I wasn’t fazed. “Mom, these flowers are from Eric. He sent them to me.” She sneered, “Of course, wasting my son’s money on flowers for you!” I didn’t bother to argue. I picked up the flowers, ready to head back to my room when she called out again. “You ungrateful thing! I’m sick, and you don’t even notice! Take me to the hospital!” My heart raced. She had seemed fine just moments ago. “What’s wrong, Mom? Are you okay? I’ll get the car keys!” “No! Gas is too expensive. Just push me in the wheelchair.” She insisted, so I had no choice but to wheel her to the hospital. On the way, she complained of diarrhea and a fever. It sounded like the flu, but I didn’t want to take any chances. Eric would be worried if it turned into something more serious. At the hospital, the doctor listened to her symptoms with a strange expression and ordered a blood test. Hours later, when I saw the results, I was shocked. It was HIV. I froze in place, staring in disbelief while Mrs. Gloria Bennett’s face was etched with panic. “It was you! It had to be you! You hate me, so you must have done something to my food, didn’t you?!” Her face twisted with anger, while onlookers started gathering, whispering to each other. I didn’t want this whole situation to explode in public, especially not her HIV diagnosis. I tried to push her out of the hospital, but she grabbed my arm. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me! Now that I’ve got HIV, you’re not getting off easy!” she screamed, trying to bite me. I instinctively yanked my arm away, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground. She glared at me with pure hatred. I had tried to be patient with her all these years, but now she was accusing me of poisoning her? I couldn’t take it anymore. “I swear I’ve never been unfaithful to Eric! Can you say the same for yourself, Mrs. Bennett?” Her face turned ghostly pale, and the murmurs from the crowd grew louder, like daggers piercing through her. “You… you! Everyone, come look! She’s abusing an old woman!” Mrs. Bennett cried, pulling at my arm again. In the struggle, the test results slipped from my hand, caught by the wind, and flew toward the courtyard. A neighbor picked up the paper and glanced at it, her eyes widening. “There’s HIV in our neighborhood!” The entire crowd changed. Faces of disgust and judgment surrounded us. “I knew it! With her husband gone all the time, it’s no wonder something like this happened!” “They’re supposed to be from a respectable family, but look at them now!” “Mrs. Bennett was always talking about how terrible her daughter-in-law was. Could it be the daughter-in-law gave it to her?” I looked at Mrs. Bennett, who was now shrinking under the weight of the gossip. She didn’t say a word, just trembling under the accusing eyes of the neighbors. I let out a cold laugh and walked back to the house. If Mrs. Bennett wanted to claim I mistreated her, I might as well show her how “bad” I could really be. She could clean up her own mess this time. Mrs. Bennett gathered the test results from the ground and followed me home, looking defeated. This was too big to hide from Eric and Mr. Bennett. After all, they were both in the medical field—they’d know what to do better than I ever could. I picked up my phone to call Eric, but before I could dial, Mrs. Bennett collapsed to her knees in front of me.

“Lauren, please, please don’t tell Eric or Mr. Bennett. I don’t want to distract them from their work!” I looked at her coldly. Even now, she was worried about keeping up appearances. Mrs. Bennett was desperate now, slumped on the floor, crying uncontrollably. “If they find out, I’ll have no reason to live! I’m begging you, Lauren, if you make that call, I’ll end it right here!” Before I could respond, she rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a knife, pressing it to her throat. “Fine, fine, I won’t tell them. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the hospital and get the medicine. Just take the meds, okay?” Afraid she might hurt herself, I gave in for now. Mrs. Bennett lowered the knife, tears streaming down her face as she stood, shoulders hunched. The once proud and domineering woman now looked completely defeated. A part of me almost pitied her. The next morning, I woke up early to head to the hospital, but when I opened the door, I was greeted with a nasty surprise—someone had spray-painted bright red words on our front door and wall. “HIV-Infected Scum, Get Out!” Anger surged through me, but what could I do? If I had neighbors like this, even if I wasn’t the target, I’d feel uncomfortable too. I closed the door and hurried to the hospital to pick up Mrs. Bennett’s medication. When I returned, I found Mr. George Franklin, looking frail and miserable, standing at the door with his two children. They were banging on the door, demanding to be let in. Both of Mr. Franklin’s kids were wearing full protective suits, making him look even smaller and more fragile. “Gloria Bennett! If you don’t open this door right now, we’ll break it down!” “Disgusting! Acting like a tramp at your age, not only ruining yourself but dragging our family down too!” “Let me tell you something! If my dad’s sick, it’s because of you! Your family has to take responsibility for him now. We’ll move him in, and you’ll take care of him!” I rushed forward just in time. Mr. Franklin’s daughter turned toward me, glaring. “You must be Gloria Bennett’s daughter-in-law. Open the door, or I’ll make sure the entire neighborhood knows exactly what kind of filthy woman your mother-in-law is!” Despite my own anger, I knew it was Mrs. Bennett’s fault. With a forced apology, I let them into the house. “You had the nerve to seduce my dad, but now you’re hiding like a coward? Gloria Bennett, it’s too late to save face!” “I’m really sorry for everything. If Mr. Franklin is worried about his health, I’ll take him to the hospital to get tested. If anything’s wrong, we’ll take full responsibility.” Just as I was trying to calm things down, Mrs. Bennett stormed out of her room, holding a pair of scissors to her throat. “George Franklin, you better tell the truth! I’ve only ever been with you! If I’m sick, it’s because you gave it to me!” Mr. Franklin’s eyes widened in shock, his frail hand pointing toward Mrs. Bennett, trembling. “You… you…” Before he could finish, Mr. Franklin clutched his chest and collapsed.

I gasped, rushing to call an ambulance. After making sure Mrs. Bennett was safe, I followed the ambulance to the hospital, where Mr. Franklin was rushed into surgery. I spent the entire day without food or water, too exhausted and dizzy to think straight. After hours of waiting, I grabbed a couple of sandwiches to eat. But before I could even take a bite, Mr. Franklin’s daughter showed up at my door again. “Gloria Bennett! You heartless witch! My dad just passed away in the hospital, and you’re going to pay for it!” Mrs. Bennett’s eyes filled with rage as she shouted back, “I got sick because of him! If anything, he should have been paying me! You’re not getting a dime from me!” Fearing the situation would escalate, I opened the door. Mr. Franklin’s daughter stormed in, shouting at me. “Lauren Mitchell! Forget the HIV for now—your mother-in-law killed my father! If you don’t give me fifty thousand dollars by tomorrow, I’ll camp outside your house and shame you all!” I had barely eaten a thing, and now, on top of being screamed at, she pushed me hard enough that nausea overwhelmed me. I collapsed, throwing up on the floor. Her anger faltered for a moment, but she kept sneering, “Oh, are you pretending to be sick? I wouldn’t be surprised if your whole family is infected with HIV! If I don’t have that money by tomorrow morning, I’m showing up at your husband’s workplace!” After finally managing to get her out of the house, I was left feeling both panicked and exhausted. The nausea wouldn’t stop, and Mrs. Bennett, who had been watching, suddenly looked concerned. “You’re not… pregnant, are you?” I froze, then dashed to the bathroom to grab a pregnancy test. Two lines appeared immediately. Eric had been home three months ago, so that meant the baby was three months along. Instead of joy, Mr. Franklin’s daughter’s cruel words rang in my head. What if my whole family had HIV… I couldn’t hold back anymore. I went to my room, locked the door, and sobbed until there were no tears left. The next morning, before dawn, Eric and Mr. Bennett returned home. I had been waiting for this moment, but now, instead of joy, I felt nothing but fear as I broke into tears in Eric’s arms. Eric held me close, stroking my hair. “It’s okay. HIV isn’t as easily transmitted as people think. Even if we do test positive, there are treatments now. We’ll get through this together. As soon as it’s light, I’ll take you to the hospital for tests.” His words gave me a small spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, after all this time living with Mrs. Bennett, I hadn’t caught anything. We didn’t have any direct contact—there was a chance I was still safe. At the hospital, Eric and I went in for testing. While waiting for the results, Mr. Franklin’s daughter called again. “Lauren Mitchell! We had my dad’s body tested—he didn’t have HIV! Your mother-in-law killed him by sheer stress!” I felt the world go black around me, but just then, the nurse called us to collect our results. Eric picked up the report, glanced at it, and then quickly tucked it into his bag. But I didn’t need to look. I already knew. I had HIV.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294716”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic #励志Inspiring

It was me who made sure my brother-in-law’s divorce happened. I didn’t really do much—just sent him some Instagram message screenshots of my sister-in-law and my husband pouring their hearts out to each other. After all, he had stayed faithful to her for three years and hadn’t even touched me. I figured it was only right to let them be together. I’m done being trapped in a sham marriage. On the day all hell broke loose at their house, I was there too. The four of us sat in the same room. Graham, my brother-in-law, was determined to get a divorce. Lily, my sister-in-law, was crying like a damsel in distress, looking so pitiful that if I were a man, I’d have comforted her myself. So naturally, my husband, Dylan, was there playing the hero, kneeling at her feet, practically begging her to smile again. True love, am I right? Graham didn’t care at all for Lily’s tears, but her lover, my husband, couldn’t take it anymore. He lashed out at Graham, shouting, “How can you be so heartless? Lily’s an amazing woman, and now she’s crying like this, and you still have the nerve to blame her?” Graham, being the rational man he is, was furious. “Dylan Foster, do you even remember she’s your sister-in-law?” But, oh no, my cheating husband didn’t back down. Bold as ever, he responded, “She’s your wife! Have you done your duty as a husband? Do you even know how long you’ve been gone on business trips? Two or three months at a time, never around. Lily’s been home alone, exhausted and crying. Where were you?” A brilliant speech. If you forgot who was talking, it’d almost sound reasonable. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I slapped him across the face and said, “So, you decided to ‘take care of her’ in your brother’s bed? Why didn’t Graham help me out when I’ve been living like a nun for all these years?” Dylan lost it. He turned his anger towards me, saying, “You’ve always been trouble. I married you because I thought you were a decent woman, but now look at you.” He had the nerve to say, “I regret marrying you. You’ve been nothing but a disappointment.” Classic double standards. He’s been caught in bed with his sister-in-law, but I’m the problem because I dared to expose it. Dylan, in his usual self-righteous tone, said, “Avery, be reasonable. I just made a mistake all good-hearted men are bound to make. Can’t you forgive me? You’re a woman too. Can’t you empathize with Lily’s pain?” Honestly, the first time I walked in on them, besides the anger and hatred, there was a sense of relief. Three years into our marriage, and he had used his “ED” as an excuse not to touch me. I thought I was being an “understanding” wife. When I saw him cheating, I was furious, but I also felt free. I wouldn’t have to keep pretending to be the dutiful wife who felt guilty for wanting a real man. “Go to hell with your ‘understanding.’ If you cared so much for Lily, why didn’t you marry her in the first place? It wasn’t me who begged you to marry me, was it? No, you chased me down, saying you couldn’t live without me.” Before he could respond, I added, “You want to sleep with your sister-in-law, but then you went and married me. What a joke.” Oh, he wanted to marry Lily, alright. But Lily didn’t want to leave Graham—he was still the better catch. Dylan only married me because he was getting too much pressure to settle down. After the wedding, he even told me he had ED to keep up his “purity.” There isn’t a more pathetic man on this planet. Furious, Dylan raised his hand to hit me. Smack! But the blow never landed. Graham stepped in, blocking him with his arm. Graham growled at him, “Dylan, you’re lucky you’re my brother. If anyone else dared to humiliate me like this, they’d be dead.” Dylan froze, then stammered, “Graham…” I seized the moment, slapping him again. “You disgusting piece of garbage. Just being near you makes me sick.” “And don’t worry. Not only is Graham divorcing Lily, but I’m divorcing you too. I’ll make sure you and your precious Lily are together forever in your twisted love story.” With that, I left, locking the door behind me. Whatever happened between Graham and Lily or how Dylan tried to fix things was no longer my concern. That night, Dylan banged on the door for ten minutes straight, but I didn’t open it. He only left after the neighbors came out and started yelling at him. The next day, though, I didn’t expect Lily’s mom to come storming into my office.

She stormed into my office, screaming at the top of her lungs, “Avery Harper, get out here! You homewrecker! You’re disgusting! You’re gonna pay for this!” Her voice echoed through the entire office. I calmly pulled out my phone, dialed Graham, and put it on speaker in my pocket. This mess was his family’s problem to deal with, after all. Lily’s mom, ever the drama queen, started her performance the moment she saw me. “Oh, Avery, you’re just jealous that my Lily is prettier than you. She’s got a better husband, a better life, and you can’t stand it. You just want to ruin her marriage! Where’s your boss? You should be fired, you filthy homewrecker.” Her whole speech about how I was jealous of her daughter’s perfect husband would’ve been funny if it weren’t for the fact that her “perfect” daughter was the one sleeping with mine. Seeing her slap her thigh and roll on the floor in hysterics was honestly nauseating. I didn’t realize Lily’s mom was this kind of woman. What a learning experience. I checked my phone. Graham had hung up, but I wasn’t worried. I turned on the camera function, recording her tantrum for future reference. Then, I turned to my coworkers, saying, “Sorry about this, everyone. I’ve run into some trouble, but could you all be witnesses? In case this lady claims I hurt her later.” Lily’s mom, clearly not expecting this, looked shocked. But she wasn’t someone who backed down easily. “Yes, everyone come and look! This is the woman who’s trying to ruin my daughter’s marriage.” Well, alright, Mrs. Carmichael. You asked for it. “If we’re going to do this, let’s talk about how I ruined your daughter’s marriage, shall we? Was it because I told your son-in-law that your daughter was cheating?” Lily’s mom shrieked, “No! That’s a lie! You’re just slandering her. How dare you break up a family? Why don’t you just die?” She came at me, trying to hit me. I quietly rolled up my sleeves, ready to teach her a lesson. But suddenly, a tall figure stepped between us, blocking her from me. Graham had arrived. He nodded at me before turning his fury on Lily’s mom. “Enough.” Lily’s mom slapped her thighs dramatically, screaming, “This is it! You’re all trying to kill me! Where’s the boss? I need someone to handle this!” Peeking around Graham’s shoulder, I said, “You really wanna keep this going? I’ve got some lovely bedroom photos of Lily and Dylan right here. I could show everyone, even your daughter’s coworkers. How about we take a look together?” Hearing this, Lily’s mom bolted out of the office faster than a rabbit. Guess her daughter told her about the divorce but left out the part about being caught cheating. Graham, watching his mother-in-law flee, muttered an apology. “I’ll handle my family from now on.” But clearly, his family had other plans.

After Lily’s mom’s outburst, Dylan decided to take things up a notch by calling my mom, saying he wanted to bring me back to my hometown. My mom, of course, got excited and called me right away, asking when I was coming home. I knew Dylan was trying to manipulate me, using my mom against me. So, I decided to ask Graham for help. He had promised to handle his family’s mess, and Dylan was part of that too. I met Graham at a small café to talk things over. He apologized again, saying he would keep his mother-in-law and the rest of his family in check from now on. He even promised to warn Dylan to stop causing trouble. I wasn’t having it. I had Lily’s scandalous video right there in my phone, and I couldn’t believe she still had the nerve to cause a scene. How shameless could they be? I was the victim here. Honestly, I was doing them a favor by not going to Lily’s neighborhood and making a spectacle out of it. These people had no shame, causing all this trouble and still turning the blame on me. “Your brother tricked me into this marriage, made me live like a widow. Your wife had an affair with him. And then her mother comes to my office to harass me. Graham, I’m done with all of you. Your entire family owes me.” I knew Graham wasn’t really to blame, but I had to let it all out. And he just sat there, calm as ever, taking my angry rant in stride. He didn’t say a word while I pointed my finger at him and shouted. He even ordered me my favorite drink—a half-sweet iced tea—and slid it across the table. I took a sip. It was perfect. Even after three years of marriage, Dylan never bothered to remember the little things I liked. Looking at Graham, a thought popped into my head. “If you really feel sorry for me, then make it up to me.” Graham didn’t flinch. “Alright.” “I want Dylan to leave this marriage with nothing,” I blurted out. Then, I quickly added, “And I want you to be with me.” I couldn’t understand why Lily would ever cheat on a man like Graham. He never complained about her extravagant spending or her increasingly absurd demands. He bought her designer bags, sent her on trips abroad, and even indulged her mother’s ridiculous requests. Graham was either at work or on his way to work. I remember once when he had a high fever, and I went over to bring him some soup. He had fainted at home, and if I hadn’t been there, he could’ve been in real trouble. As I cleaned him up and wiped him down with rubbing alcohol, I noticed holes in his socks. He laughed and said it was because he walked too much, and Lily hadn’t noticed. In that moment, I felt a pang of jealousy. If Dylan had even half of Graham’s decency, I’d have been happy to live like a saint my whole life. How could Lily not appreciate a man like that? Meanwhile, Dylan wasn’t even in the same league. I wanted that kind of marriage. Graham’s expression softened a bit, his usual unreadable face showing a hint of thought. He looked at me, his guilt and concern replaced with something more calculating. “You want to use me to get revenge on them?” he asked. “Yeah,” I answered without hesitation. Then I added, “But that’s not the only reason. Dylan’s betrayal has left me with scars, and I see a perfect man right in front of me who his wife doesn’t appreciate. If Lily can’t see what she has, I can. And let’s be real—I’d be a great wife. My parents adore their sons-in-law, you know that.” Graham nodded. “Alright. After the divorce, if you still want, I can take responsibility.” That was… shockingly easy. Wasn’t he going to think about it more? He must’ve sensed my doubt because he continued, “I’m a calm person, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get angry. And you’re right. If they don’t know how to value what they have, then why shouldn’t we choose someone who does?”

I wasn’t about to let Dylan’s late-night door-knocking become a regular occurrence. After I got back to my house, I packed all my things, locked the door, and took the car keys with me. No way was Dylan going to keep driving around in my car while seeing Lily. I checked into The Lexington Hotel near my office and sent Graham a message: I’ve moved out. He replied almost instantly: Where to? I told him about the hotel. His next message was short: Stay safe. I was about to roll my eyes when another message came through: I’m on my way. Honestly, I was just updating him out of courtesy, but the fact that he was this concerned caught me a little off guard. Well, I figured it couldn’t hurt to have him over. We could plan our next moves together. While waiting for him, I called my lawyer friend, Megan, to get some advice. I needed to figure out how to ensure Dylan and Lily ended up walking away with nothing. Megan told me that since we co-owned the house, and the car was in my name, I should immediately file for an asset freeze with the court. She also suggested I dig into Dylan’s finances and demand he reimburse me for every penny he spent on Lily. Meanwhile, Lily’s mom kept babbling on about how I was jealous of her daughter. But deep down, she knew her son-in-law couldn’t hold a candle to Graham. Handsome, successful, and in great shape—Lily must’ve wanted both men in her life. I bet stealing my husband and watching him ignore me gave her some sick sense of power. Well, Graham was mine now. Step one of my revenge. After messaging Graham, I showered and wrapped myself up in a fluffy bathrobe, waiting for him. When he finally arrived, this man—so predictable—handed me his jacket and said, “It’s chilly. Don’t catch a cold.” I tossed the jacket aside and leaned against him, pressing my hand to his chest. Oh, hello—nice muscles. But Graham, ever the gentleman, just lifted me off him like I weighed nothing and set me aside. I felt a sting of embarrassment and snapped, “What’s the matter, Graham? Are you going to stay loyal to Lily now, too, like your brother?” Graham sighed and patted my head, like I was some misbehaving child. “Isn’t cheating wrong?” “Yes.” “And we’re still married, right?” “Yes. But I’m doing this for revenge! Why should I play by the rules when they haven’t?” Graham wrapped me up in a blanket like a burrito and said gently, “That’s the difference. They’re the bad guys, and you’re the good one. Avery Harper is the sweetest, most deserving woman in the world. So, if we’re going to be together, we’ll do it the right way.” I couldn’t help but laugh inside the blanket cocoon. Alright, fine. Maybe he did get to me.

Graham booked a room next to mine for the night. Over the next few days, he was busy pushing forward the divorce with Lily. Lily had run back to her parents’ house and wasn’t taking his calls. Graham went over to see her family once and handed over the divorce agreement. The deal? She wouldn’t get any of his assets. Lily’s mother lost it, screaming about how her daughter had given Graham the best years of her life, and now he wanted to throw her away with nothing. They refused to sign the papers and kicked him out. It didn’t matter, though. Graham filed for divorce through the courts, and it was in the hands of the lawyers now. I still couldn’t wrap my head around why Lily would let go of a man like Graham. At first, I had only been thinking about getting revenge on Dylan by cozying up to Graham. But the more time I spent with him, the more I realized—this was the kind of man I wanted to marry for real. Tall, handsome, responsible… Graham wasn’t the uptight guy I thought he was either. He had this low-key, CEO vibe going on, and I was here for it. But, of course, some people just have to ruin a good thing. Lily sent me a taunting message on Instagram. “What kind of woman are you? Can’t even keep your own husband.” “Let me tell you something—Dylan and I were together before you even came along. You’re the side piece. He hates touching you. You’ll never compare to me.” “He says I’ll always be his only woman. You’re just a fool, destined to live as a widow.” “Why don’t you just die? You think you deserve any of the money? You don’t. No one will ever love you. You’ll never win.” She actually thought I was her competition. Seriously? She liked feeding on garbage, and she expected me to think it was gourmet? I rolled my eyes and sent her a thumbs up. Thanks for the additional evidence of Dylan’s affair. Lily didn’t stop there, though. Her next message read: “Dylan is in his prime. He’s a beast in bed. You’ll never know what that’s like.” I raised an eyebrow and nudged Graham, who was sitting next to me peeling an apple. “Well, looks like your wife thinks your brother’s better in bed than you.” Graham handed me the apple, staring at me for a moment before saying in a low voice, “She’s my ex-wife.” That dark, intense gaze made me pause. I just shrugged and said, “Ex-wife, then. No need to get all worked up.” Before I could fire off another reply to Lily, Graham took my phone away and, dead serious, said, “If you want to find out, you’ll have to marry me first.” I chomped down on the apple, pretending not to notice how my heart skipped a beat. Well, then. Looks like I’d need to hurry up and finalize that divorce.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294715”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic

She was violated by her stepbrother, and the unbearable weight of it led her to self-harm until there wasn’t an inch of her body left untouched. She said, as long as I send her stepbrother to accompany her in the afterlife, she would allow me to continue using her body. When I saw her stepfather, I decided to send them both to the afterlife to be with her. It felt like someone was holding me underwater, my lungs running out of air, leaving me unable to breathe. A man’s soft, low voice echoed in my ears, “Chloe Watson, you better recognize who your master is.” Suddenly, I was yanked up by the collar, pulled out of the bathtub, fresh oxygen flooding my chest as I gasped for air. Water cascaded over my head, blurring my vision. I wiped my face and saw the one who had grabbed me: a boy with narrow, shadowed eyes and a tense jawline. He snickered. “Chloe Watson, are you trying to drown yourself?” Who’s Chloe Watson? I’m Olivia Dawner. I tried to speak, but my throat was so dry I couldn’t make a sound. The boy gave me a disgusted look and tossed me back into the tub. I glanced around. I was supposed to be on a plane, not in some bathroom I’d never seen before. I looked in the mirror at the person staring back at me—pale skin, dark circles under the eyes from what seemed like chronic lack of sleep. After a few moments, I couldn’t stand the sight anymore. My clothes were stuck to my body, and I wanted to change into something dry. But when I took off my clothes, I froze in shock. This body was covered in bruises and thin scars running up and down the arms. The poor girl must have been in so much mental anguish to do this to herself. As I changed into clean clothes, I began to realize—I had reincarnated, and now I was in someone else’s body. Stepping out of the bathroom, I scanned the room. Girls like this, so sensitive, must keep a diary of their inner turmoil. I started searching for it when suddenly, a voice from behind said, “It’s in the second drawer on the left, the one with the embossed cover.” “Oh, thanks,” I responded instinctively, then immediately felt something was off. My spine stiffened, and I turned toward the voice.

A girl, who looked exactly like the body I was now in, was leaning against the wall, staring at me with a strange expression. I screamed. I’m not afraid of anything, but I’m terrified of ghosts. For a second, I thought I was about to have a heart attack. The ghost rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Stop screaming!” I went silent immediately. “I didn’t think you’d be such a scaredy-cat,” she said, stepping closer. I was so frightened I fell to the floor, which made her look even more puzzled. “I heard you used to be tough, not afraid of anyone. Was that just a rumor?” “But I’m scared of ghosts…” She leaned down, trying to help me up, but as soon as she touched me, her hand passed right through my body, which only freaked me out more. I was so terrified I felt physically ill—who could understand? I scrambled back until I hit the edge of the desk, tears filling my eyes. “I didn’t mean to take your body! I have no idea what happened. I was dead, but then…” I hiccuped through my sobs. “I woke up in your body…” “Must’ve been a glitch in the afterlife’s system,” I rambled, more and more anxious. She was probably here to reclaim her body. Chloe Watson frowned at me. “You don’t sound like how The Reaper described you. He said you were fearless, that even the most dangerous people respected you.” I was nearly sobbing now, convinced the ghost was going to take my life. I hadn’t stopped being afraid of ghosts just because I’d died once. Chloe, clearly irritated, snapped, “Stop crying!” Her sharp tone immediately choked off my tears. She gave me a look. “I’ve never seen anyone as cowardly as you.” I stammered, “W-what do you want?”

Chloe tilted her head. “I need you to do something for me.” I asked cautiously, “Why me?” “You’re the smartest of everyone who died around the same time as me. The Reaper said I could only choose someone from that group.” Of course, I’m smart. No wonder she picked me. “Did the Reaper say I could go back to my own body?” Chloe shook her head. “You died in a plane crash. The wreckage was so bad it took a man named Ethan Clint and his team a long time to find your remains.” “Ethan Clint?” Chloe’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Is he your boyfriend?” I scowled and whispered, “No, he’s the guy you mentioned earlier—the one everyone treats with respect.” I wanted to ask about her scars and why she’d taken her life, but before I could speak, she changed the subject again, gossiping. “I heard someone traded twenty years of their life to bring you back,” she said, resting her head on her hand. “Do you know who?” I shook my head. “Do you?” She also shook her head. “You’re lucky. Someone gave up a lot for you.” I stood there, frozen. I didn’t have anyone close enough to do that. Who could possibly make such a huge sacrifice for me? Suddenly, my stomach growled loudly, and Chloe laughed. “The kitchen’s downstairs.” I headed down and grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge. Chloe floated behind me and motioned for me to look at the staircase. I glanced up and saw a boy standing there in pajamas. Chloe pointed at him. “Send Ricky Shane to the afterlife to be with me, and you can keep this body.” So, the boy who had grabbed me earlier was Ricky Shane. He stood still at the top of the stairs, his gaze icy and piercing. After a moment of silence, I broke eye contact and continued drinking my milk. Ricky turned and went back upstairs. I wiped my nose and tried to reason with Chloe. “Murder’s illegal. Even if I get your body, I’ll end up spending my life in prison. And prison uniforms are ugly—they don’t suit me.” Chloe’s lashes trembled. “He did this to me,” she whispered. “He violated me.” My grip on the milk carton tightened. She added softly, “Many times.”

From Chloe’s story, I pieced together the reasons for her suicide. Her father had died when she was young, and she lived with her mother, who remarried into the Shane family. Ricky Shane was her stepfather’s son. Ricky had always been a cruel, manipulative kid, and Chloe, being shy and obedient, was an easy target for him. As Ricky got older, his bullying became something far worse. About a year ago, he started assaulting her. No 17-year-old girl could bear that kind of violence. So, Chloe began self-harming to cope with the unbearable pain. “I would cut myself every time he assaulted me,” she said quietly, lowering her eyes. I recalled the scars crisscrossing her arms and felt a cold sweat break out across my back. “If he saw a new scar, he’d punish me even more.” I stood there, at a loss for how to comfort her. I looked up at her floating form. “Did you ever tell your mom?” Chloe paused and then let out a bitter laugh. “I told her many times.” I clenched the pillow in my hand, my palms slick with sweat. She didn’t need to say it. I already knew. Her mother must have known but chose to ignore it to preserve her marriage and keep her comfortable life. Not everyone is fit to be a mother. I realized then that what truly broke Chloe wasn’t Ricky’s abuse. It was the cold indifference of being ignored. That’s why she killed herself.

Chloe was a high school senior, and my high school days were far behind me. Luckily, she didn’t seem very popular at school. I spent the whole morning sitting in her seat, and no one came to say hello or even seemed to notice me. Now, all the students were in gym class, but I had faked being sick to stay in the classroom. Chloe’s social life wasn’t my biggest concern right now—her grades were. I stared at her math test, with a score of 35, and fell into deep thought. I glanced at Chloe, who was floating around the room. She must have thought I had a question because she drifted over to me. I gestured to the test with a nod of my head, and when she saw the score, she looked embarrassed. I shot her a cold glare. She fussed with her hair, her eyes darting around. This was a top-tier high school. With grades like this, she had to be at the very bottom. I couldn’t help but ask, “How did you even get into this school?” Chloe responded lazily, “Because Ricky Shane goes here. I had to attend this school—he won’t let me out of his sight.” I raised an eyebrow. “Is Ricky smart?” “He’s the top student in the school.” I was surprised. I hadn’t expected that. Chloe then asked, “The Reaper said you were smart. Were you a good student in high school?” I shrugged nonchalantly, “I was top of my class.” Being number one was no big deal to me, so I didn’t think much of Chloe’s wide-eyed, astonished expression. I propped my chin on my hand and began flipping through her test. Even if I took the test with my eyes closed, I wouldn’t have gotten such a low score. Chloe continued, “What college did you go to?” Without much thought, I answered, “Harvard.” Chloe blinked, clearly surprised. “Ricky wants to go to Harvard too.” I scoffed internally. Whether Ricky went to Harvard or any other top school was none of my concern. I had no intention of helping Chloe send him to the afterlife, nor did I know how long I would even be stuck in this body. For now, I was just taking things day by day. I was mentally solving one of the math problems when a dark shadow loomed over my desk, followed by a familiar low, raspy voice. “You’re not feeling well?” I looked up, startled to see Ricky Shane standing over me. The sight of him made my chest tighten, this body’s natural response to his presence.

Ricky Shane stood towering over me, his narrow eyes slightly lifting at the corners, his expression unreadable. I glanced toward where Chloe had been floating earlier, but she had disappeared. It was just me and Ricky now, alone in the classroom. I gripped the edge of my skirt and answered, “I’m not feeling well.” Ricky reached out to touch my forehead, but I instinctively swatted his hand away. “I’m fine,” I said coldly. “A minute ago, you said you weren’t feeling well,” he drawled, lazily leaning against the desk beside me. His fingers brushed a strand of my hair as he smirked. “You’ve gotten brave, slapping my hand away like that.” His words were soft, but they sent a shiver down my spine. He might’ve only been a kid, but he had the cold, calculating nature of a venomous snake. It felt like he could wrap his coils around my throat at any moment, cutting off my air supply. The fear was palpable. I stared straight at him, not saying a word. In my old life, I’d never been pushed around or treated with veiled threats like this. And right now, I couldn’t afford to let him suspect that I wasn’t really Chloe Watson. Ricky wasn’t the kind of person who could be easily fooled. His gaze drifted down to the math test on my desk, and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “After all the tutoring I’ve given you, how are you still doing this badly?” I blinked in surprise. Ricky Shane had been tutoring Chloe? I couldn’t help but wonder if his “tutoring” had involved more than just academics. I responded cautiously, “I’m not as smart as you.” He seemed to expect my answer, letting out a barely noticeable sigh. “With grades like these, how are you going to follow me to Harvard?” I frowned. He really thought of Chloe as his possession, didn’t he? He wasn’t just controlling her now—he planned on keeping her trapped even after high school. No wonder she couldn’t take it anymore. Ricky straightened up, his smile fading. “I’ll help you study tonight,” he said, his voice turning cold. “And don’t lock the door. Or else…” He trailed off with a casual laugh, not finishing his sentence. But the threat lingered in the air. I lowered my eyes, forcing a stiff smile.

As soon as Ricky left, I wasted no time pulling out Chloe Watson’s diary and began reading through it. Ricky Shane was far more dangerous than I had imagined. In my previous life, I’d never dealt with someone as insidious as him. Thinking of danger brought Ethan Clint to mind. Ethan had a handsome face, but his cold, emotionless demeanor had always made him seem distant. There was something chilling in his eyes, an unfeeling void. I wondered how he was doing back in Charleston. Had he given me a proper funeral? Without me, his adopted sister, all the inheritance from our late father would be his now. That massive house—was he living in it all alone now? Did he ever get lonely? I turned page after page in the diary, and almost all of it was about Ricky Shane. Chloe’s descriptions painted him as a dark, twisted genius—a brilliant but manipulative psycho, far beyond what she could ever handle. Ricky had isolated Chloe from everyone, making sure she had no friends. He wouldn’t allow anyone else in her life. He demanded that her entire existence revolve around him. Just as I was about to close the diary, a girl’s shadow appeared in my peripheral vision. She rested her hand on my shoulder, her gaze fixated on the notebook in my hands. Startled, I snapped the diary shut and turned to face her. She seemed a bit taken aback by my reaction, squinting her eyes at me. “What’s so secret in that diary that you’re guarding it so closely?” I glanced at the name badge pinned to her chest. Rachel Monroe. This girl didn’t seem like the friendly type. With Chloe gone, I had to handle this on my own. I put on an indifferent face, stuffing the diary into my bag. “It’s nothing important.” Rachel’s eyes drifted to the math test still lying on my desk. She pulled up a chair beside me and started talking. “At first, everyone thought you only got into this school because of donations. But then again, you’ve got a brother who’s top of the class. Why haven’t you asked him to help you with your grades? With scores like these, you’re not getting into any college. Are you planning to study abroad? Well, it doesn’t matter, because Ricky Shane seems to take care of you so well. I’m sure he’ll find a way to get you into Harvard. You’d be lost without him.” Apparently, everyone thought Ricky was being a doting brother, looking after poor Chloe. I gave a mental thumbs-up. Ricky Shane, well done. You’ve got everyone fooled, you manipulative little mastermind. In the back of my mind, I heard Ricky’s cold voice, reminding me about tonight’s “tutoring” session. The diary had made it clear just how those sessions usually went. But I wasn’t Chloe Watson.

Chloe didn’t reappear for the rest of the day, leaving me to sit through an entire afternoon of classes. Back in my own high school days, I had coasted my way into Harvard thanks to academic competitions. But now, if I wanted to survive, I’d have to take the SAT like everyone else. Thankfully, I hadn’t forgotten any of what I’d learned, and the classwork felt familiar. I breezed through the assignments. When the final bell rang, I started packing up my things when Rachel Monroe tapped me on the shoulder. “Ricky’s here to pick you up.” Chloe and Ricky weren’t in the same class, so I looked up toward the door. Sure enough, Ricky was leaning against the frame, his expression calm but unreadable. My stomach twisted with unease. I stayed seated, watching him closely. His dark eyes, glinting with amusement, were locked on mine. Rachel sighed dreamily. “You’re so lucky to have a brother like Ricky.” I didn’t bother looking at her as I replied softly, “You want him? You can have him.” “Huh?” Ricky patiently waited, his posture relaxed as he called out, “Chloe, aren’t you done packing up?” His voice was sweet and warm, dripping with fake kindness. I gritted my teeth. You snake. He walked over to me and gently patted my head, leaning down to whisper, “If you keep stalling, I’ll have to tutor you all night.” I stood abruptly. “I’m ready.” Ricky took my bag from me like it was the most natural thing in the world, playing the role of the perfect, caring brother. As we walked to the car, I tried to summon Chloe. There were so many things I needed to ask her. But she was nowhere to be found. Sitting in the car, I watched the passing scenery, my mind racing with strategies to handle tonight’s “tutoring” session.

��Dad’s home.” I turned toward Ricky, who was resting his elbow against the car window, watching me with a smirk. “We’ll have to wait until after Dad goes to bed for your tutoring session,” he said, leaning closer, his voice low with warning. “You know what happens if you lock the door.” He leaned back, looking satisfied with himself, his lips curling into a lazy smile. I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. Back when Ethan Clint was around, no one dared to treat me like this. We got out of the car and entered the house. As soon as I saw the man sitting in the dining room, my blood ran cold. Even from behind, I recognized him instantly. I would never forget that figure, no matter what. The man slowly turned to face me, his smile warm as he called out, “Chloe.” Chloe Watson’s stepfather—Ricky Shane’s father—was none other than Richard Shane. My entire body tensed up. Every cell in me screamed with the urge to flee. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath catching in my throat. I bolted up the stairs to my room, telling myself to breathe, forcing myself to stay calm. I remembered now. Richard Shane did have a son he adored, a boy he bragged about constantly, a supposed prodigy. I’d tried to forget, but fate had other plans. At that moment, Chloe reappeared. My heart raced as I processed everything that had happened in the past few days. None of it made sense, and I was losing control. I didn’t know who was behind all of this, who was pulling the strings. But I knew one thing for sure: Richard Shane needed to pay for what he did. And Ricky? I’d send him to the afterlife to keep Chloe company. If his precious son died, Richard Shane would suffer. And there’s no greater pain than a parent burying their child.

Chloe looked hesitant, like she had something to say but was holding back. Her reluctance irritated me. Just as I was about to push her to talk, there was a knock at the door. Chloe disappeared instantly, leaving me to deal with whoever was on the other side—most likely Ricky. God, I was exhausted. The door was locked, but Ricky continued to knock persistently. My back pressed against the wall, and my stomach churned at the thought of sitting at the dinner table with Richard Shane. The knocking grew louder and more impatient. “Chloe, open the door.” I opened the door, and Ricky’s eyes scanned me. “What’s going on? Just because you don’t like my dad doesn’t mean you can be rude. If your mom were here, she wouldn’t let this slide.” My legs felt weak as I wobbled slightly, my voice coming out low and shaky. “I don’t feel well.” Ricky’s hand cupped my face, tilting my chin up. His dark eyes studied my pale, tired expression, his touch oddly gentle. “You don’t look so good. Can you handle dinner?” I shook my head. “I don’t want to eat.” “Then rest.” I moved to close the door, my hand on the knob when he suddenly called out, “Chloe.” The half-sigh I’d just released caught in my throat. He glanced over his shoulder at me, his gaze intense. “Be good, Chloe.” I nodded stiffly and shut the door.

I pushed open the bathroom door and turned on the faucet, letting the water fill the tub. I leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face was pale and lifeless, and my eyes, exhausted to the core, refused to close. I submerged myself in the warm, misty water. My school uniform soaked through and clung tightly to my skin. As soon as I closed my eyes, I was back in that studio with Richard Shane when I was twelve. His voice echoed in my ears, smooth and persuasive, while his hand slowly slid up my leg. “Do you still want to continue lessons? My lessons are expensive, and I heard your father went bankrupt. If you want to keep taking my classes, you’ll need to be a good girl and listen to your teacher.” “You’ve got real talent in painting, Olivia. It would be such a waste to let your parents’ mistakes ruin your future.” The studio was cluttered, his hands, his breath—everything about him suffocated me. I bet Chloe Watson didn’t expect that I’d help her, not just because I needed this body, but because her stepfather, Richard Shane, had once been my teacher. He molested me when I was twelve. At the time, my family had just gone bankrupt, and I desperately wanted to continue taking his classes. But his lessons were expensive. He took me to his studio and said that if I agreed to play a game with him, he would let me attend his classes for free. That day in the studio became a lifelong nightmare. When my dad found out, he tried to kill Richard. He attacked him, but without enough evidence, Richard got away with it. My dad, on the other hand, was sentenced to five years in prison for assault, where he died of a heart attack. That year, I learned what it meant to lose everything. Relatives distanced themselves, and I ended up in an orphanage. For years, I lived in misery, while Richard Shane climbed the ladder of fame in the art world, almost being revered as a genius. Now I realize the truth of the saying: the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Richard Shane raised a criminal just like himself. The bathroom filled with steam, and through the mist, I saw Ricky Shane walk in.

Ricky Shane stood there for a long time, his gaze slowly scanning every inch of me. I didn’t say a word, didn’t even blink. He crouched down beside the tub, brushing his hand through my wet hair, staring into my eyes. “Chloe, something’s off about you.” Of course something’s off—I’m not Chloe. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. Warm liquid trickled between my legs. I quickly looked down and saw blood mixing with the bathwater. “You’re early.” I turned my head away, saying nothing. He continued talking to himself. “Too much stress, maybe?” He bent down and lifted me out of the tub, water rippling behind us. His fingers went to the buttons of my school shirt. I looked up at him, and in my mind, his face began to merge with Richard Shane’s. Like a madwoman, I shoved him away and coldly said, “Don’t touch me.” He laughed darkly. “Don’t touch you?” I repeated, “Don’t touch me.” In an instant, his hand clamped around my neck, slamming me back against the wall. He sneered, his voice icy and low. “Since when did I give you the right to refuse me?” His cold fingers curled around my throat, pressing directly over my pulse. Honestly, I thought he was going to kill me. My breathing grew ragged as his grip tightened. Just when I thought he was serious about strangling me, his hand loosened. He let go and pulled me into his arms, his fingers tracing the scars on my arms. His voice dropped to a soothing tone, as if trying to coax me. “Wouldn’t it be easier if you just behaved? If you behaved, I wouldn’t have to make you suffer.” He’s a lunatic—Ricky Shane is completely insane. Chloe’s life was truly miserable, to end up with someone like him. His eyes scanned my face, expressionless, as he murmured, “Too bad I won’t be able to tutor you tonight.”

I propped my chin up with one hand while the teacher wrote on the board. The sound of pens scratching against paper filled the room. I was doing my best to keep up the appearance of being a slacker, like Chloe, without even bothering to open a book. My eyes were fixed on the board, but my mind was elsewhere. Right now, I was living as Chloe Watson. Her life and status were miles below what I was used to. It made everything harder. I needed to come up with a solid plan. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from Chloe’s mom. “We’re going to a gallery this afternoon. I’ve already gotten you out of class.” Richard Shane had gained quite a reputation in recent years, becoming one of the top artists in the country. His name carried weight in the industry. I had always gone out of my way to avoid hearing about him. In my mind, as long as I didn’t acknowledge his success, it was like he didn’t exist in my world. The gallery exhibition went smoothly. I had to admit, Richard’s work was an undeniable visual feast. I used the excuse of not feeling well to leave early. As I stepped outside, a sleek black car pulled up at the curb. A young man stepped out from the driver’s seat and hurried over to open the back door. The first thing I noticed was a pair of polished black shoes, toes resting firmly on the shadowy patterns of the fallen leaves. He wore a navy blue, tailored suit, his fingers tapping quickly on his phone. Then he paused, raising his head without warning, and our eyes met. Sharp, almond-shaped eyes, both refined and ruthless, with a thin scar running along his eyebrow. There was something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. It was Ethan Clint. Why was he in Charleston? Ethan didn’t say a word. He just stared at me. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes were stormy. I had a gut feeling—he recognized me, the soul beneath this body. He knew I was Olivia. He suddenly stepped forward, bending down to wrap his arms around me. “Olivia,” he breathed, his voice deep and rough in my ear. “Welcome back.” His familiar scent flooded my senses. My mind exploded. He recognized me. Ethan Clint recognized me immediately. Leaning into his chest, I glanced up at the scar above his brow. That scar—Ethan got it trying to catch me when I jumped out of a tree. I don’t even remember why I climbed up that day, just that getting up was easy, but getting down was terrifying. Ethan had stood below with his arms outstretched, promising he’d catch me. It wasn’t long after I’d been adopted into the Clint family, and I didn’t fully trust him yet, but for some reason, I jumped anyway. He held me tight, not letting me get hurt at all. But he broke his arm in the process, and the cut above his brow came from hitting his head on a rock. I had no idea how to explain to him why I was in someone else’s body, or why I hadn’t come looking for him sooner. But it was like he knew. He patted my head gently and said, “You don’t have to explain.” “What are you doing in Charleston?” I asked. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and said casually, “Just handling some business.” He lifted my face, carefully inspecting every inch. His brow furrowed, and he tapped my forehead lightly. “This face… doesn’t look as good as yours.” Thank God Chloe hasn’t shown up—this could’ve been really awkward. The corners of his deep-set eyes softened slightly as he asked, “I can’t take you away just yet, can I?” I shook my head. I was still Chloe Watson, and I couldn’t just leave with Ethan Clint. He stroked my hair, just like he used to, and said, “Olivia, we need to talk.” Out of nowhere, I blurted, “Did you hold a funeral for me?” There was a brief flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “Yeah, I did.” “Was it grand?” He was silent for a moment before replying, “It was.” Even if the funeral had been grand, the only attendees would’ve been people with business ties to the Clint family. I never had any real friends. He leaned against the car, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one. The thick smoke swirled around his piercing gaze. He silently took a few drags, and without thinking, I reached for his cigarette pack—just like I used to. He caught my hand, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “Has this body even hit legal age?” he asked. I smirked. “Just turned 18. I’ve got college entrance exams coming up.” He smiled with his mouth, but there wasn’t any humor in his eyes. He patted my hand and refused. “High school seniors aren’t allowed to smoke.” I shot back, “I smoked when I was a senior, and you didn’t stop me then.” He chuckled. “I wasn’t in the country back then. Too far away to stop you.” He lifted his wrist to check his watch, then glanced behind me. “There’s a kid across the street staring at us. Do you know him?” I turned around. Across the road, Ricky Shane was glaring at us, his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched tightly, knuckles white. I snorted. “Oh, I know him, alright.” 15 Ignoring Ricky Shane’s rage, I turned back to continue talking to Ethan. He was my strength, my anchor. Somewhere along the line, I’d grown to rely on him completely. As long as he was around, nothing scared me. “That guy’s name is Ricky Shane. He’s this body’s brother,” I paused, then added, “stepbrother.” I could feel Ricky’s eyes boring into my back, but Ethan just glanced over my shoulder, sizing him up. “He’s got a thing for his sister.” I blinked, surprised. “How do you know that?” Ethan returned his gaze to me, his expression unreadable. “I’m not blind.” He suddenly frowned, grabbing my wrist and rolling up my sleeve, exposing the scars on my arm. “What’s this about?” “That’s the girl’s doing, not mine.” I was debating whether or not to tell Ethan the deal Chloe had proposed: if I killed Ricky, I could keep her body. I knew Ethan would have no problem burying Ricky six feet under without hesitation. But I couldn’t let him do that. He’d worked so hard to clean up the Clint family’s reputation, ridding it of all the shady stuff. His hands didn’t need more blood on them. While I was still talking to Ethan, I misjudged Ricky’s possessiveness and underestimated his anger. I didn’t expect Ricky to charge toward us. His face was twisted with fury, and before I could grab his arm to stop him, he shoved me aside and stormed toward Ethan, who had his back turned while talking on the phone. Without warning, Ricky yanked Ethan by the collar and punched him hard in the jaw. Ricky had put his full strength into that punch. Ethan, caught off guard, stumbled back, blood trickling from his mouth. In all the years I’d known Ethan, I had never seen anyone hit him. My voice shook with fury. “Ricky Shane, have you lost your damn mind?” Ethan wiped the blood from his mouth, his expression darkening like a storm on the horizon. He tilted his head slightly, stepped forward, and grabbed Ricky by the throat. “You little punk.” Ethan moved so fast that Ricky didn’t even have time to react. His face turned bright red as he struggled to breathe, unable to speak a word. Ethan had him completely overpowered, his grip unyielding. I’d always known Ethan had a rough side. From the day I met him, he’d been wild to the core. A street kid at heart. Ricky, raised in comfort and luxury, didn’t stand a chance. Ethan’s knuckles whitened, and for a second, it looked like he might actually strangle him. His brow furrowed, and with a swift motion, he let go. Ricky collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. Ethan pressed his shoe against Ricky’s chin, looking down at him like he was nothing more than a stray dog. The showdown between a grown man and a teenage boy ended with the teenager thoroughly humiliated. 16 I stood there, wide-eyed, watching the whole scene unfold. I wasn’t new to seeing Ethan fight, but this time I wasn’t Olivia Dawner—I was Chloe Watson—and I didn’t know how I was supposed to react as her. Behind me, I heard a woman’s shrill cry, “Ricky!” Chloe’s mother, Diane, came rushing over in her high heels, kneeling beside Ricky. Following close behind her was Richard Shane, his face like thunder. Ethan smirked, his eyes flicking from Ricky to Richard, lifting his chin slightly as he said, “Seems like your son wasn’t raised with much discipline.” Richard’s eyes darted between Ethan and his son. For a moment, he looked shocked, but he quickly recovered his composure. “My apologies, Mr. Clint,” Richard said, his tone smooth but strained. He didn’t need to ask what had happened; the blood on Ethan’s lip made it obvious. Men like Ethan didn’t get into fights with high schoolers without good reason. Diane helped Ricky to his feet. He grimaced, his face taut with barely-contained anger. Richard turned to his son and said through clenched teeth, “Apologize to Mr. Clint.” Ricky stubbornly refused to say a word. I thought Ethan might step in to defuse the tension, but he didn’t. He was really waiting for Ricky to apologize. The atmosphere grew heavier, the standoff dragging on. I finally stepped forward, trying to smooth things over. “I’ll apologize on my brother’s behalf. I’m sorry.” Ethan glanced at Ricky and then back at Richard, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “Looks like your daughter’s got more manners than your son, Mr. Shane.” Richard and Diane both plastered on awkward smiles, but I could feel Ethan’s gaze lingering on me. Watching the way Richard acted around Ethan, I knew instantly—Ethan was the main financial backer behind the art gallery Richard was working on. Ricky kept his head down, his fists clenched, fury practically radiating off him. The tension was suffocating. Out of nowhere, Chloe appeared. She stood right beside Ricky, leaned in close to me, and whispered in my ear, “Olivia, you’re in trouble now.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294714”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic

I was stabbed three times in the stomach. And my boyfriend? He was busy protecting his ex-girlfriend. This police academy student, who claims to serve and protect the citizens, decided his ex was more important than me. I was stabbed three times in the stomach. And my boyfriend? He was busy protecting his ex-girlfriend. This police academy student, who claims to serve and protect the citizens, decided his ex was more important than me. So, I found someone who would prioritize me. But that person? He’s now on his knees, swearing he’s done nothing wrong. I flipped him off. “Yeah, you did nothing wrong. You and your trashy ex-girlfriend can keep playing your little game. To hell with you both!” “Claire, I had nowhere else to go,” Chloe Daniels said with her fake little voice. “Jason said he’d take me out to clear my head. I didn’t mean to intrude on you guys. I’m really sorry.” Jason Foster arrived 30 minutes late, dragging this piece of work along with him. I smiled at Jason and asked, “Jason, do you remember what you said yesterday? Do you even know what’s going on in that head of yours?” Jason’s face changed. He grabbed my hand and said, “Don’t be unreasonable. Whatever happened with her before, it’s over. Besides, she’s just the neighbor’s little sister. I had to look out for her. It’s only right.” “Little sister? The kind of sister you share a bed with? How many times have you ditched me for her?” “There were reasons! Stop making this a thing!” I pulled my hand back and wiped it with a tissue. “This is the last time.” After today, we’re done. I’ve been holding on so long I’m about to turn into a ninja turtle from all the restraint. But Jason thought I was giving in again. Excitedly, he called Chloe over and took her bag, completely ignoring mine. “Ryan,” Chloe chirped, “buy this lady in the white dress a flower. You’ve gotta keep your girlfriend happy!”

Meanwhile, I was standing there in my black pants like a total joke, watching Jason fawn all over Chloe as if she were his pregnant wife. “She’s not my girlfriend,” Jason said nervously. “That’s my girlfriend.” He gestured toward me, finally acknowledging I existed. “Oh, silly me! I’m his little sister,” Chloe giggled. The little girl standing nearby glanced between me, Jason, and Chloe and then muttered, “So weird… Some people are just meant to end up alone.”

“Don’t move!” I felt the sharp tip of a knife pressing against my side. My brain froze, wrapped in a cold, terrifying panic. I stiffened, desperately looking toward Jason, hoping he would help. But no. Chloe was also being held hostage, and Jason rushed over to save her, getting into a fight with the attacker. “Jason! Jason!” I screamed. “Claire, wait! I’ll save you in just a second!” I laughed bitterly. I’ve never wanted someone to tell me to wait or just hang on. “Didn’t I tell you not to move, you stupid bitch?!” “You all look down on me, don’t you? None of you ever listen!” The attacker’s mood shifted, and I froze, hoping the emergency call I managed to make while screaming Jason’s name would work. But it was clear Chloe had no interest in me surviving this. She screamed, “Claire, don’t call the cops! If they come, someone’s going to get hurt! I don’t want to die!” Jason heard her and immediately turned toward me, eyes red with anger. He didn’t say a word but went back to fighting off the guy who was holding Chloe. At that moment, the attacker behind me snapped. The knife was suddenly in front of me, stabbing me three times, his hand clamping over my mouth to keep me from making a sound. I crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll, bleeding out, unable to scream. Jason was so busy protecting Chloe, and that’s when it hit me—Chloe didn’t want me to call the cops because she knew she’d be fine. She had someone protecting her. Not me. When I could call for help, even with my boyfriend right there, all I got was “just wait.”

I heard the sirens approaching. Jason was standing there like some hero, holding Chloe in his arms, accepting everyone’s praise. Then a man stepped out of one of the police cars and, without missing a beat, punched Jason square in the face. It was my brother—Ryan Mason. “Jason, what the hell are you doing? Why are you holding your ex-girlfriend? Are you kidding me?” “Where’s Claire? Don’t tell me you’ve spent all this time protecting your ex!” The murmurs around us made Jason’s face turn ghostly white as if he’d only just remembered I existed. “It’s not what it looks like,” Jason stammered. “I told her to wait—I was going to save her too!” Just then, the little girl pointed at me and screamed, “That lady’s bleeding so much! So much blood!” In that instant, Jason looked at me with disbelief and regret on his face. I turned to Ryan, “Ryan… it hurts so much.” “Ryan, please… help me!” His eyes filled with tears, and the paramedics rushed forward, lifting me onto a stretcher. But the moment they moved me, I started bleeding even more. Ryan clenched his fists and carefully lifted me himself onto the stretcher. As I cried, I whispered to him, “It hurts so bad…” Ryan’s eyes narrowed as he turned and punched Jason in the gut. Chloe timidly stepped forward to try to stop him, but Ryan slapped her across the face. “I don’t hit women, but I’ll make an exception for a homewrecker. What the hell were you taught at home, seducing someone else’s boyfriend?” Jason clutched his stomach but still shielded Chloe. “Ryan, don’t drag her into this.” “Don’t call me Ryan! You brought your ex-girlfriend to meet up with my sister, got her caught in this attack, and now she’s bleeding all over the place? Where the hell is your conscience?” Jason gasped, shaking his head. “No, Claire’s my girlfriend! I’m a future cop—I have to protect the citizens first.” “I did nothing wrong, Ryan. Isn’t it my duty to protect the citizens first?” Ryan, about to jump into the ambulance, scoffed, “Citizens? There are plenty of people here. Why is your ex the only one you’re protecting? Your girlfriend’s the unluckiest person on earth.” Around us, the injured and shocked onlookers started muttering, their eyes red, staring daggers at Jason. “Trash!” someone yelled. The only one capable of fighting off the attacker, and he only protected his ex. He didn’t even want to call the cops because he was worried Chloe might get hurt. What a joke.

I woke up two days later. Ryan and my parents sat by my bedside, looking like they’d just come from the police station. “Mom… Dad… Ryan…” I croaked. Ryan was the first to react, gripping my hand with red-rimmed eyes. “Claire, thank God you’re awake. We were so worried.” “You know, what did you ever see in that Jason guy? If I hadn’t shown up, you might not have made it.” Mom nudged him, and Ryan immediately shut his mouth. “Claire, you really scared us this time. Seeing you lying there in that pool of blood…” I held my mom’s hand, just like when I was little, and she’d comfort me to sleep. “I hate him so much. Jason… he’s a piece of trash who put me through hell.” “Ryan, did you know that when the knife was pressed against my back, I called out for him? And all he said was, ‘just wait.’” “Chloe told me not to call the cops, and when the attacker realized I had, he stabbed me three times.” Ryan kept his head down, fiddling with his shirt buttons, refusing to look me in the eye. “That idiot’s outside. I stopped him from getting in. Do you want to see him?” I shook my head. Staring at the corner of the doorway, I said quietly, “I hate him. These three scars are enough to remind me of him forever.”

Chloe Daniels showed up while my family was at work and I was recovering. She hadn’t suffered a single injury and had the nerve to show up wearing bright orange lipstick. “Thanks for taking those three stabs for me,” she said, smiling. “Otherwise, I might’ve gotten hurt. Really appreciate it.” “But, Claire, don’t you get it yet? Jason has always loved me. He was only with you because he was lonely.” “Third parties are the ones who aren’t loved. He’ll always choose me over you. All it takes is one phone call, and he’ll come running. Isn’t that right?” Yeah, ever since Chloe came back, Jason had stood me up five times. Every single date, Chloe was always there. I was never his first choice. It made me sick. I remember when Jason met my parents for dinner. Everything was perfect until he got a phone call, then without saying a word, he just got up and left the table. I heard Chloe on the phone saying she’d cut her hand, and Jason told her to wait for him. It was laughable. Her “wait for me” was so different from the “wait” I always got. What kind of “citizen” needs someone to drop everything and leave their girlfriend’s family dinner just because they cut their hand? I looked at my phone, which I had secretly started recording, and then said to Chloe, “If you love Jason so much, why did you break up with him? Do you enjoy stealing other people’s boyfriends?” Chloe smirked as she fiddled with her perfectly manicured nails, chuckling. “Of course, I was just playing around. Jason doesn’t have money or status—he only has his love for me. But you see, when I came back, he still loved me, didn’t he?” She glanced up at me with a wicked grin. “Honestly, it’s kind of fun, don’t you think? Even though he’s your boyfriend, he still saved me.” I nodded, holding back my disgust. “You two really are perfect for each other. A homewrecker and a guy who claims he’s just doing his duty by ‘saving citizens.’”

I pressed the call button for the nurse, and when she came in, I said, “Can you please get this homewrecker out of here? I didn’t invite her, and all she’s doing is rubbing it in my face.” The nurse didn’t waste any time. She moved to escort Chloe out. But Chloe raised her voice, “I’m in the VIP suite! You better watch out, or I’ll report you!” The nurse paused, glancing at Chloe with a strange look in her eyes. “Well, honey, that suite is being paid for with my money,” I interjected, enjoying the shift in power. “Now, please—get her out.” The nurse, now fully understanding the situation, nodded and swiftly showed Chloe the door.

As soon as the door shut behind Chloe, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I picked up my phone and called Ryan, asking him to cancel the VIP suite. “What’s going on?” Ryan asked, confused. “Jason put Chloe Daniels in that suite, and she’s been strutting around without a scratch. Oh, and she charged it to my card.” “She even came here just to gloat,” I added, my voice dripping with annoyance. Ryan was silent for a moment before muttering, “I’ve never met someone so shameless. I’ll handle it.” “Thanks, Ryan. You feel like cooking some corn and pork rib soup today?” “Sure, sure. Just boss me around, why don’t you?” “Well, you are my brother—Ryan!” I teased.

fter Chloe got kicked out, Jason finally had the nerve to call me. Of course, I had already blocked him, so he started spamming me with text messages, even using different numbers. I remember one message in particular that said: “Claire, this is all my fault, but I was just trying to protect citizens. Why are you so mad at Chloe? Why did you kick her out?” “She’s not in a good place mentally. Please, I’m begging you. Let her stay.” I calmly typed out my reply: “If you care so much about your ex, why don’t you spend your money on her? It’s my card, my money. Who gave you the right to use it?” “And do you seriously still think you did nothing wrong? There are homeless people everywhere—why don’t you go and ‘care’ for them too, Mr. Citizen Protector? You’re ridiculous!” There are always fools telling me to be the bigger person. Well, maybe I’ll forgive him when he’s six feet under.

On the day of my discharge, Jason showed up. I knew he had been hanging around the hospital the entire time, hoping to see me. But Ryan had kicked him out, so he’d been spending his time setting Chloe up with a place to live—again, trying to use my card for it. I sat in a wheelchair, with Ryan standing behind me, ready to intervene if Jason pushed too far. Jason looked nervous, his eyes filled with regret and fear. “Claire, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were hurt that badly. I messed up…” “I was trying to get Chloe out of the way so I could save you, but the guy kept targeting her. I couldn’t do anything about it.” “I figured you were my girlfriend, and Chloe didn’t have anyone else. So yeah, I took care of her. But I swear, I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” I looked down at him, lightly touching the bandages covering my stab wounds. “I was stabbed three times, Jason. I almost didn’t wake up. You couldn’t help me because you were too busy protecting Chloe, and yet you watched while I was held hostage and stabbed.” “What did I do to deserve being your girlfriend? Do you have any shame?” Jason mumbled under his breath, “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry…” “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Not a chance. We’re done. Stop making my life hell.” Jason turned pale, his whole body shaking. “You really can’t forgive me? I didn’t do anything except save someone… I was just doing my duty.” “I was wrong, I know that.” Behind me, Ryan gestured toward a woman begging on the sidewalk, her face disfigured and missing a leg. “See that woman over there? Isn’t she more pitiful? Why don’t you go hold her at night and find her a place to stay for the rest of her life?” Jason’s eyes welled up, but he stayed silent. “What’s the matter? You can’t? Isn’t she also one of your ‘citizens’? You’re such a hypocrite. Disgusting.” “And let me guess—you’ve forgotten how your dad left your mom for some perfect little sweetheart, driving her into depression? How are you any different from him?” “Looks like being trash is genetic.” Jason clenched his fists and shook his head, muttering, “It’s not like that… It’s not…” I looked toward the trees and spotted Chloe peeking out from behind one. “Chloe Daniels, you can come out now. Clean up your mess and take your trash with you. I don’t need it cluttering up my sight.” Chloe suddenly rushed forward and dropped to her knees in front of my wheelchair. “Claire, please don’t blame Jason. It’s all my fault—I’m the one who shamelessly clung to him.” “I deserved it when you took the house back and kicked me out of the hospital. It’s my own fault.” Hearing this, Jason shot me a dark look as if I were the unreasonable one. “Claire, it’s all my fault. How can you take it out on Chloe? There’s nothing between us anymore.” “Come on, be reasonable. I’ll treat you right from now on. You only went after Chloe because you still care about me, right?” Chloe nodded vigorously, her head hitting the ground twice. I smiled coldly. “The house? I paid for it in full because Jason couldn’t afford it. The hospital bill? Charged to my card. So, tell me—what right do either of you have to hurt me and still spend my money?” “Jason, get some dignity. We’re done!” “You know how I am.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294713”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic

“Anna, James is in the hospital right now, and… it doesn’t look good.” I glanced over at my daughter, Sophia, who was watching TV on the couch. In a low voice, I replied, “Let’s stop the treatment.” James and I have been married for seven years, and our daughter, Sophia, is four now. He runs one of my brother Ryan’s branch companies, but the business had been struggling for a while. My dad even advised him to let it go, saying he should find a job more suited to his expertise. But after I got pregnant, the company suddenly started doing well, and James got busier. That busyness stretched on for five years. Once Sophia was born, my entire focus shifted to her, leaving little time for James. Last month, Sophia started preschool, and I finally got a moment to breathe. That’s when I realized that James wasn’t coming home more than three times a week. Hesitating for a moment, I decided to give him a call. He picked up quickly. “Hey, babe?” “When are you coming home? Sophia’s been waiting for you.” Sophia had actually been asleep for a while by then. I’m just not the type to openly say things like ‘I miss you’ or ‘I love you,’ even when we were dating. James hesitated for a few seconds, his breathing sounded rushed. “I’ve got something at the office. I won’t be home tonight. Tell Sophia to get to bed.” “Babe, I’ve got to go. Love you.” Before I could respond, he hung up.

James didn’t come home until the next night. As soon as I saw him, I knew he’d changed clothes. The suit he was wearing looked a lot like the one he had on the day before, same brand and everything. But it definitely wasn’t the same one. I took his briefcase, pretending to be casual. “Honey, where’s that suit Ryan gave you last time? Haven’t seen you wear it lately.” I was talking about the suit he had left the house wearing the previous day. He bent down to take off his shoes, freezing when he heard my question. His movements became a bit clumsy. My heart sank. A woman’s intuition is almost always spot on. You don’t need hard evidence to tell when your partner’s been unfaithful. James quickly covered, “A client spilled some wine on it. Insisted on taking it to the cleaners for me.” He seemed satisfied with the explanation, standing up to show off the new suit. “They even bought me a new one.” I nodded but didn’t say anything. Later that night, after he fell asleep, I checked his phone. Nothing suspicious. Then I opened his Uber app, and all the ride history had been wiped clean. Since we used the family car to take Sophia to school, James always used Uber to get to the office. Maybe he didn’t know about another feature of the app. I clicked on the “Request Invoice” button, and all the ride records popped up. His three most frequent destinations: The office A place called Sunset Apartments A factory out in the suburbs I knew Sunset Apartments—expensive, even for a rental. The factory? That was near one of the company’s other properties.

Once James left for work, I asked Sandra Davis, the HR manager, to send me a list of employee details. The company had been downsizing lately; last month, they’d laid off a few people. Most of the long-time employees had already jumped ship, leaving a bunch of fresh-out-of-college hires. Aside from Sandra, I barely knew anyone at the company anymore. The list included home addresses, and sure enough, there was a Lisa Woods listed as living at Sunset Apartments. There was no way she could afford to rent that place on her salary. I skimmed her file—out-of-town hire, attractive. Whether her family had money? That wasn’t listed. That afternoon, I picked up some coffee and headed to James’s office. It’s not easy getting a divorce these days; you need solid evidence. The house was a gift from my parents before the wedding, so it was under my name and Sophia’s. I wasn’t concerned about the marital assets, but there was no way I’d let go of custody of my daughter. “Anna’s here, and she brought coffee for everyone!” James’s secretary had already been waiting downstairs for me. James hurried out to meet me too, and for a second, I saw something strange in his eyes. Was it disgust? Or maybe… jealousy? Lisa Woods was there too, shyly coming over to grab her coffee, then walking right up to me. “Thanks, Anna. James always talks about how amazing you are.” Then she flashed him a flirty smile. It was the kind of smile I hadn’t been able to pull off since I was twenty. The air grew tense for a few moments. I smiled, taking her hand. “I haven’t been to the office in a while, so I don’t know any of the new faces.” She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “Focus on your work. I hope to see your name up there at the end of the year, and when I do, I’ll make sure to give you a nice bonus.” Sandra Davis quickly jumped in, “You hear that, everyone? Anna just promised us all a great bonus! Better thank the boss!” I smiled at her. In this company, only a few people knew who really held the reins.

James didn’t take it well when I stole his spotlight, and he sulked for the rest of the afternoon. “Our numbers are down, way down,” I said. He froze. “Honey, you’re working like crazy every day. I thought business was booming.” He swallowed hard. “Well, actually, this quarter’s been a little tough…” “With numbers like that, you don’t need to be coming home two or three times a week. What are you doing out there? Gambling? Cheating?” James never expected me to speak so harshly, his neck stiffening as he struggled to respond. “Alright, here are your options.” “One, you fix the numbers for this quarter.” “Two, we shut down the company.” Immediately, he softened, kneeling in front of me. “Babe, we can’t shut down the company! I’ll work harder, I promise.” Of course, he wouldn’t agree to close it. If the company folded, he’d just become “Anna’s husband” and nothing more. “Then get to work.” “If Ryan sees these numbers, he’ll probably feel the same way I do.” I got up, and he scrambled to follow me, offering to walk me out. “No need. And if you don’t come home for the next few days, just book yourself a hotel room nearby.” He looked shocked but happily agreed. I grabbed my camera and set up camp at a café near Sunset Apartments. Around 9 PM, Sandra texted me that James had left the office. Lisa Woods left right after him. James called around the same time, saying he’d be staying at a hotel. I waited for about two hours before they came strolling back, hand in hand, like a couple of high school sweethearts. Oddly, I felt calm watching them. As they got closer, I snapped a few high-definition photos, focusing on their interlocked fingers. When I got home, I called an old friend to help me keep an eye on Lisa. The next day, around noon, I got a call. It was loud on the other end. “You won’t believe this. That woman’s pregnant.”

I quickly gathered myself. “Are you sure?” The person tailing Lisa had accidentally knocked her medical report out of her hands, giving them a quick look. Pregnant? A flood of old frustrations came rushing back. James’s mother had always wanted a grandson. When she found out I couldn’t have more children, she often came by to make things difficult for me. I laughed bitterly. James really thought he had it all figured out, didn’t he? If he wanted a son, there was always some woman out there willing to give him one. That afternoon, Sandra sent me another update. James had fired his old secretary and hired a new one. That wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was that he had personally hired a woman who hadn’t even finished middle school. Sandra quickly forwarded me her details. This was the first time James had ever used his position for something shady. I was curious. Her name was Christine Brown, and she came from the same town as James. No real education, no work history. If Christine had been one of James’s relatives, I would have heard about her. James was always extra careful not to mess up in front of my family, even refusing to help his own brother. I was stunned when I saw her address. She lived in the suburbs, not far from the factory. One of the places James frequently visited. Later that afternoon, I grabbed a seat at a café near the office. James usually ordered a coffee around 1:30 PM. With the old secretary gone, it had to be Christine who was picking it up now. Right on time, she showed up. In person, she looked older than in her photo. It was clear she wasn’t used to running errands. I walked up and helped her order. She gave me a deep, awkward bow. As she bent over, I noticed a necklace slip out from under her collar. It was a limited-edition piece I had seen in a catalog a month ago but hadn’t bought. I admit it—I judged her. “Nice necklace. What brand is it? I might get one for myself.” She instinctively reached to cover it, then let her hand drop. “My boyfriend bought it for me.” I returned to my seat and messaged the salesperson. Sure enough, last month, James had used my credit card to buy that necklace. I was confused but intrigued. Christine lived far from the office, a three-hour commute by subway. If she and James were involved, why hadn’t he moved her closer? She could have sold that necklace and gotten a better apartment. Sandra also informed me that Lisa had taken a few days off. Understandable, given the pregnancy. She probably wanted to rest up. James had also texted me, saying he wouldn’t be home tonight. My gut told me he wasn’t going to see Lisa. So, I took an Uber to Christine’s apartment and waited. Sure enough, the person tailing Lisa confirmed that James wasn’t with her. It wasn’t until after 8 PM that James finally showed up, carrying a bunch of stuff. One item stood out—a large Lego set. That couldn’t be for Christine, right? Was James seeing a woman with a kid? I didn’t stick around long and headed back home. James came home that night, too.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294712”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic

I woke up in the middle of the night, thirsty. I got up to get some water from the kitchen. As I passed by the guest room, I heard some muffled noises coming from inside. I thought maybe Kelly Morgan, the nanny my mother-in-law, Mrs. Evelyn Adams, had brought in, wasn’t feeling well. I was about to knock on the door. Just as my fingers touched the doorknob, I heard my husband, Brian Adams’ voice, mixed with Kelly’s soft moaning. Her breathy sounds, almost whimpering, were unmistakable. As an adult, I knew exactly what was happening in there. The sounds were enough to make my skin crawl. My mind went blank for a moment, like a radio cutting out. I couldn’t decide if I was more furious or in complete shock. My legs gave out, and I slumped down to the floor, too weak to stand. Kelly was someone Mrs. Adams brought in from her hometown to be my nanny after I had just given birth to our son, Baby Ryan. I’d wanted to stay at the Mommy & Me Clinic for postpartum care, but when my mother-in-law saw the price tag, she insisted she could find someone better and cheaper who would let me recover comfortably at home. I wanted to refuse, but the eager look on Mrs. Adams’ face made me swallow back my protest. The day after I was discharged from the hospital, Mrs. Adams showed up with Kelly. Kelly had walked into our house wearing dark, faded slacks and a short-sleeved shirt that had clearly been washed one too many times. Her skin looked sallow, and her hair was tied back in a limp ponytail. When she saw me, she gave an awkward smile, nervously rubbing her hands on her pants and hiding behind Mrs. Adams, while her eyes darted all over the house. She was so young—was she even capable of being a nanny? I felt a wave of doubt rise in my chest. I pulled Mrs. Adams aside and whispered, “Isn’t this nanny a little too young?” Mrs. Adams laughed and patted my hand. “Oh, Amanda, don’t let her age fool you. Kelly’s great with kids.” Then she called Kelly over. Kelly quickly nodded and stepped forward. “Ma’am, I’ve got a big family—two younger brothers and a sister. I basically raised them all,” she said with a nervous laugh, puffing out her chest a bit. “I’m strong and tough. You can trust me with your baby.” I studied her face, trying to read if there was anything off. All I saw was sincerity. I hesitated for a moment, but Mrs. Adams made the decision for me. “Alright, Amanda, let’s have Kelly stay. If you’re not satisfied, we can always ask her to leave, okay?” Given the situation, I couldn’t very well tell her to go. So, Kelly stayed. I have to admit, during her first week, Kelly did a decent job. She took care of everything around the house with impressive efficiency. At first, I didn’t like her cooking. Her meals were far too greasy for my taste. But when she noticed I wasn’t eating much, Kelly quickly taught herself a few lighter dishes. And when it came to looking after Baby Ryan, she was always extra careful. I had no complaints when I saw her gently rocking my baby in her arms. I even mentioned to Brian, my husband, that maybe we should give Kelly a raise. Brian just laughed and said, “No need, not yet.” 2 But I had no idea that my trust was being traded for Kelly’s ambition. I must have been blind to keep a wolf like her in my home. Kelly’s moans grew louder in the guest room. Startled, I forced myself up, bracing against the doorframe. Then I heard Brian let out a final satisfied groan. They were both panting inside. Through the crack in the door, I could see Brian holding Kelly, the two of them lying naked together in bed. Kelly’s fingers were tracing circles on Brian’s chest. “Brian, when are you going to divorce Amanda? I can’t wait much longer,” she purred. Brian took her hand, kissed her fingers gently, and said, “Be patient, babe. The fun’s just getting started. Once I’ve got that old hag’s money, I’ll marry you, okay?” I froze. My scalp went numb. Kelly kept nagging him, clearly growing impatient. Turns out, Kelly and Brian had been engaged back in his hometown. Everyone there knew about their relationship. Everyone except for me—the fool they had tricked. I remembered the first time I went back to Brian’s hometown to meet his parents. The whole town had gathered at the entrance to greet us. When they saw me, there were these strange, sly smiles on their faces, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I clung to Brian’s hand and nervously asked, “Why are people looking at me like that?” I remembered how nonchalantly he squeezed my hand and replied, “They’re just jealous that I married someone from the city.” Brian had strutted ahead, showing me off to the entire town. I overheard people whispering behind me, “That Brian sure knows how to play the game. Can’t believe he landed a city girl.” “Yeah, but it’s all because of his looks. What else does he have going for him?” “And what about his girl back home?” “Guess he’ll have one wife and one mistress.” I was walking too fast to catch the full conversation, but the bits and pieces I heard didn’t make sense to me at the time. Later on, Brian and I got married. Even though my parents weren’t thrilled about Brian, they agreed to the marriage for my sake. After we tied the knot, my parents bought us a nearly 2,000-square-foot house in a great school district and even gave us the funds to start our own business. With my help, we started a small company. We hit the market at the perfect time, and within a few years, the business was booming. Brian became a self-made millionaire. But now, all my hard work, all my dedication, had been repaid with betrayal. I was shaking all over, ready to burst into the room and tear those two apart. But my sense of reason kicked in. Now was not the time to confront them. Inside, Kelly asked, “Brian, is it because she gave birth to a son that you don’t want to divorce her?” My heart clenched. My son was my line in the sand. Brian chuckled in that strange way that echoed in the quiet of the room. “He’s my son too, isn’t he? Won’t he be yours when you’re raising him?” Kelly’s voice chimed in, “Yeah, and when he’s older, he’ll call me ‘Mom.’” The two of them laughed together. 3 I was completely numb. They were scheming to take not just my money, but my son, too. Well, let’s see how things play out. I won’t let them get away with anything. Then Kelly started up again, purring to Brian, “Honey, I want you again.” “You little minx. You’re going to wear me out,” Brian laughed. Within moments, their moans filled the room again, even louder than before, completely ignoring my presence in the house. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, but I couldn’t feel the pain. After standing there for what felt like forever, I stumbled back into our bedroom. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. I kept thinking about how Brian and I had started the business. Back then, it was just the two of us. I handled everything at the company—administration, financial reports, managing clients. And at home, I cleaned, did laundry, cooked. I was spinning like a top, working non-stop. After three years of my relentless efforts, the business finally took off. Brian had officially climbed out of that tiny town he came from. Now, every time he went back, he was greeted with fanfare. The town even put up banners when he returned, calling him their “great hope.” Mrs. Adams would walk around the town with her head held high, looking down on everyone. I remembered once when she came to visit us. She had pulled Brian aside in the kitchen and whispered, “Son, now that you’re a big-shot businessman, it’s time for you to have a son to carry on the family name, right?” I had seen Brian nod in agreement. “Yeah, I know.” Mrs. Adams had clapped her hands in delight and whispered, “Then you better hurry up. I want to be holding my grandson by next Christmas.” Brian had proudly puffed out his chest. “Don’t worry, Ma. I’m in great shape.” Hearing them talk, I had quietly retreated to our bedroom. Truthfully, I had always wanted a baby, too, but the company needed me, so I kept putting it off. When Brian finally brought it up, I was thrilled. Not long after, I found out I was pregnant. Brian insisted I stay home and focus on the pregnancy. His reasoning was that the business was running smoothly now, and I deserved to relax. When I hesitated, Brian had wrapped his arm around me and softly said, “Babe, just stay home and take care of yourself. Make sure our baby boy is nice and healthy.” I laughed and teased him, “How do you know it’s a boy? What if it’s a girl?” Brian’s face darkened. He furrowed his brows in annoyance. “The Adams family has always had sons, generation after generation. We need a boy to carry on the name.” Seeing the displeasure on my face, he quickly backtracked and added, “But of course, a girl would be fine too. As long as you’re the one giving birth to the baby.” After I got pregnant, Brian became even busier. He was often gone for entire nights, always tied up with meetings or client dinners. I was too naive. I actually believed he was working hard for the sake of our family. Little did I know, I’d been living a lie. A complete joke. Every time I thought about how Brian had been sneaking around with Kelly behind my back, I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn’t let this go. 4 Determined to get proof of their affair, I bought a few wireless cameras online. While Kelly was out grocery shopping, I installed the cameras in the guest room, living room, and kitchen. As expected, that very night, Brian and Kelly were at it again.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294711”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic