My boyfriend Charles Lane’s mom, Karen Wilson, called us to come over for dinner. When we got to his place, a five-year-old kid suddenly rushed into his arms, yelling, “Daddy!” A plainly dressed woman with a big smile waved at me and said, “Nancy Stone! It’s been forever—can’t believe you actually managed to snag Charles.” I shot a confused look at Charles, and he shrugged casually. “Quinn Scott got divorced and moved back here. She had nowhere to stay, so I told her she could bring the kid and keep my mom company for a while.” I struggled through that dinner, barely keeping it together. Afterward, I agreed to a blind date my family had been pushing for—and within a week, I was married. ***** At the dinner table, Charles’ family sat together, chatting and laughing like it was the most natural thing in the world. While I huddled quietly in the corner. Karen cradled five-year-old Tyler Collins in her arms, her smile so bright it seemed her face might burst. Out of nowhere, Tyler turned to Charles and shouted, “Daddy, I really like the toy car you got me this time!” “Glad you like it,” Charles replied, warm and indulgent. The way he looked at Tyler—it was like he was gazing at his own kid. Maybe Quinn caught the sour look on my face because she quickly jumped in to hush her son. “Tyler, how many times have I told you? Don’t call Mr. Lane ‘Daddy.’ He’s not married yet.” Her words sounded like a scolding, but her face told a different story—she wasn’t mad. If anything, she looked amused, her whole expression lit up with a smile. Then Quinn speared a piece of fried fish with her fork and popped it into Charles’ mouth. “Charles, try this—see if my cooking’s gotten rusty. I made it special for you since I knew you’d be back.” Her movements were so smooth and casual, you’d think they were the couple here. “Delicious,” Charles said, taking the bite without hesitation, his lips brushing her fork like it was no big deal. “I’ve been craving this for years while you were abroad. Now that you’re back, I’m in for a treat.” A wave of nausea hit me, and my appetite vanished completely. I stared into space when Quinn speared another piece of fried fish with her fork and moved it toward my plate. “Nancy, you’ve got to try my cooking too!” I jerked my plate away and snapped, “No thanks, I don’t like it. I’m a germaphobe.” The smile plastered on Quinn’s face froze for a second before crumbling. Her lips were pursed into a pout, and it looked like tears were about to spill. Charles quickly scooped the fish she’d offered me into his own plate, then shot me a glare. “What’s your deal? We’ve been together for years—since when are you a germaphobe? Are you just trying to start something?” I’d hold it together until then, but his words shattered the dam. All the hurt I’d been bottling up came flooding out, and tears welled up in my eyes. Before I could even get a word out, Quinn jumped in again, her voice trembling with exaggerated woe. “Charles, don’t blame Nancy. It’s my fault—I got too carried away.” Before she even finished speaking, a tiny hand slapped me across the face. “Don’t you dare bully my mom!” I looked up, tears stinging my eyes, to see Quinn’s son Tyler standing there, hands on his hips, his little face puffed up with anger. I was so furious I started shaking. “Where are your manners?” I snapped. My shout startled him, and he burst into tears. Karen swooped in, scooping him up to comfort him, then turned to scold me. “Can’t you just talk things out calmly? Why would you yell at a little kid who doesn’t know better? Kids scare easily—you’re only making trouble for yourself.” Quinn stood up, pointing at me accusingly. “Nancy, no matter what’s going on, you don’t take it out on a child.” Charles hurried to calm her down, ushering her back into her seat, then nudged me. “Come on, apologize to the kid. You’re a grown adult—how can you stoop to arguing with a child?” That was it—I couldn’t hold back the flood of hurt any longer. I dropped my fork and knife, stood up, and stormed toward the door. As I passed the cabinet, a bright toy car caught my eye—the one Tyler had raved about, the one Charles had asked me to buy for his “nephew.”

Before we came, Charles mentioned a little nephew would be there too. I hadn’t thought much of it, assuming it was his sister’s kid. But no—it was Quinn’s son all along. Realizing that, I grabbed the toy, yanked the door open and hurled it outside. When I stepped out, Tyler’s cries and Charles’ furious shouts erupted behind me. “Nancy, have you lost your mind?” I ignored the chaos inside and kept walking, leaving his house behind. As I waited for the elevator, Charles came charging out. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me back toward his place. “Go back and apologize! How can you be so petty with a kid?” I yanked myself free from his grip, my eyes blazing as I yelled back, “Charles, don’t you think the one who should apologize is that brat with no manners?” Out of nowhere, a sharp slap landed across my face. I froze, stunned. “Tyler’s already got it rough without a dad,” Charles snapped. “Can’t you just cut him some slack? Calling a kid like that—don’t you think you’re being cruel?” His biased words almost made me laugh. “Cruel? Fine, call me cruel then. But if you think I’m apologizing, you’re dreaming.” Right then, the elevator doors slid open. I darted inside, leaving Charles fuming outside as the doors shut. Back at the house, I shared with Charles, I quickly packed up all my stuff and shipped it back home. I booked a flight for that same day—after seven years in his city for him, I was done for good this time. Charles blew up my phone with calls, but I didn’t pick up once. It was the first time I didn’t cave. Looking back, I was such a fool. He’d secretly flown overseas to see Quinn behind my back, all because she’d said, “I miss you.” He even sold the small company he’d spent years building from scratch to pay off Quinn’s debts, leaving himself with nothing. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg—I could go on forever. Time after time, I let my heart soften, feeling sorry for him. I even went behind his back, begging my family to pull strings and open doors for him, smoothing the way for his career. But no matter how much I did, I could never compete with Quinn, his childhood sweetheart. To him, she was worth more than his own life. And yet, even with all that, Quinn still chose someone else back then. When I dragged my bags through the door back home, my mom, Megan, gave me a sharp look. “Oh, you finally remembered where home is. Guess you’ve had enough of learning the hard way, huh?” Her words stung, but she still reached over to grab one of my bags. I flashed an awkward smile, not daring to talk back. She was right—I’d messed up, big time. My parents, Megan and Dylan, never liked Charles and were dead-set against us dating. It took me crying and begging for a solid month before they grudgingly gave in. But their approval came with a catch: they wanted Charles to move to our city. I knew right away he’d never agree—his pride was way too strong for that. So, in the end, I snuck off to his city behind their backs. Reality, though, had a way of slapping me hard across the face. That evening, my dad, Dylan Stone, got home from work just as we sat down to dinner. The second he saw me, he let out an angry huff and stormed off to his study. Megan shot me a quick look, nudging me with her eyes. I scrambled to my feet and followed him. Ten minutes later, I’d sweet-talked him out of his mood, and soon enough, our family was back to its old chatter and laughter. Over dinner, Dylan mentioned he’d found someone for me to meet—a hardworking guy who’d built himself up from nothing, ambitious and decent.

My parents both turned to me, their faces lit with hope. Megan hesitated, her lips twitching like she wanted to nudge me along, worried I’d push back. I’d always hated the idea of blind dates, after all. Dylan, meanwhile, sat there with a dark look, practically daring me to say no—like he’d rip me apart if I did. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Dad, send me his number. I’ll meet him tomorrow.” The second I said it, their faces broke into huge, relieved smiles. After dinner, I was deleting the handful of photos I’d taken with Charles over the years when his video call popped up. I figured it was as good a time to clear the air with him once and for all. But the second I answered, Charles launched into me. “I’m not coming home tonight. You need to think long and hard about what you did. You finally visit my mom’s place, and you manage to upset everyone. “I even had you buy that toy so Tyler might warm up to you, but this is how you treat a kid—like some shrew. “Now Tyler doesn’t like you, my mom doesn’t like you—what are we supposed to do about that?” He unloaded all that on me, then stared expectantly, waiting for my response. He didn’t even notice that the background behind me wasn’t our little shared home anymore. I almost laughed at how absurd it all sounded. Why should my relationship with him depend on some kid’s approval? Before I could say anything, a woman’s voice cut in, “Charles, how do I look in this?” A second later, Quinn appeared on screen, dressed in a slinky nightgown. She plopped down next to him, then spotted me in the call. “Oh, Nancy, it’s you! Don’t be mad at Charles, okay? Tyler’s already over it, so there’s no need to keep fighting with him.” Her tone dripped with fake concern, but it was obvious she was taunting me, pressing herself against Charles in that skimpy outfit. Charles’ face flushed down to his neck, but he didn’t budge—just let her stay glued to his side. Honestly, this wasn’t exactly new for them. They’d done plenty of couple-like things in the past, all while pretending to be friends on the surface. Out of nowhere, Megan appeared behind me. Before I could react, she snatched my phone from my hands. “Don’t ever contact my daughter again—you two are done,” she snapped, then hung up the call in a huff. Charles must’ve panicked because, not even a second later, he dialed back. I didn’t pick up—and I had no intention of doing so. Megan, worried I might waver, quickly chimed in with a reminder to stay strong. I gave her a reassuring pat, letting her know I wouldn’t cave this time. The next morning, I met the guy my parents had set me up with. He was polished, funny, and easy to talk to, plus his background matched ours pretty evenly. The conversation flowed, and by the end, we were both feeling good about it. His name was Nathan Smith—a rising star in the business world. Not even thirty, he’d already taken over his family’s company and turned it into a thriving success. My parents had done their homework: no messy dating history, just a guy who’d poured everything into his career and earned a stellar reputation. He seemed like someone worth building a life with. After our meeting, since our parents already knew each other, the two families wasted no time finalizing the engagement. The wedding was set for the end of the month—just a few days away. Late that night, after wrapping up a call with Nathan, I was aimlessly scrolling through my social feed when I stumbled across something ridiculous. Charles had taken Quinn and her son on a trip—staying in the same hotel, no less. Quinn had gone out of her way to post about it, complete with a caption and photos. Her caption read: [More than friends, not quite lovers—shouldn’t be long before we’re a real family of three.] The pictures? One of the hotel room’s double beds and another of Charles give her son a bath in the bathroom. The comments below were from Charles’ buddies and Quinn’s best friends—people I knew, all mutual connections. They were teasing her. [Guess you finally see how great Charles is now, huh?] Quinn replied with a shy emoji. Someone else commented: [Good thing you came around quick, or Charles might’ve ended up with someone else.] One of her friends added, suddenly enlightened: [Wait a sec—Charles dated that other girl for years and never proposed. Was he waiting for you all along? So happy for you, haha!] Then came a flood of congratulations. [Congrats! Wishing you a speedy wedding—maybe give Tyler a little sister next, and you’ll have the perfect boy-girl pair!] I smirked and deliberately copied that last comment, posting it myself. No sooner had it gone up than a classmate messaged me: [Did you and Charles break up?] I thought about it—technically, we hadn’t said it out loud, but it was pretty much a done deal. So I replied that: [Yeah, we’d split.] Once she got the confirmation, she offered some unexpected sympathy. [Charles is a total jerk. Good riddance—hope he and Quinn stay together forever and stop messing with anyone else.] I laughed it off, assuring her I was fine. I added: [I’m actually getting married soon. I’ll invite you guys when the time comes.] After exchanging a few pleasantries with her, I started flipping through my photo album. And pulled up a picture of a wedding dress I’d saved seven years ago. Time had changed things—what used to be my favorite gown now looked outdated and unappealing. It wasn’t expensive or anything special, and I couldn’t even remember why I’d loved it so much back then. For seven years it’d sat there, untouched. Looking at it now, I thought my old taste was pretty terrible. Just then, my phone rang, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was Charles. Curious about what he’d have to say, I picked up. “Nancy, don’t get the wrong idea,” he said. “Quinn and I are sharing a room because it’s easier to look after Tyler. It’s a twin-bed room—you saw that. So don’t overthink it. “If you’re over what happened the other day, just wait for me at home like a good girl. Once I’ve taken them out to unwind, I’ll come get you, okay?” When I didn’t respond, he must’ve assumed I was still mad. His tone shifted to that soft, coaxing voice he used when he was trying to smooth things over—like he was talking to a kid. “Come on, don’t be upset. Even Tyler, a little kid, isn’t holding a grudge. You’re an adult—don’t make a big deal out of it. I shouldn’t have pushed you to apologize that day; I got carried away. Can you forgive me, babe?” He only ever called me “babe” when he knew he’d done something to upset me. In the past, I might’ve let it slide, but not anymore. I was ready to let go—to step out of this vague, messy thing he had with Quinn. I was done being a pawn in their little game. With that in mind, I smiled and said, “Well, have a great time then.” My voice carried no trace of jealousy—just pure, genuine cheer, which threw him off for a second. “Charles, honey, come to bed—Tyler wants you to cuddle him to sleep,” Quinn’s voice chimed in from the background. Charles fumbled a quick “Gotta go” and hung up in a rush. I took a deep breath and called Nathan, “Let’s move the wedding up—to the day after tomorrow.” He didn’t sound the least bit surprised. Instead, his voice softened with concern. “Are you okay? You don’t sound happy.” I hadn’t expected Nathan—pushing thirty with zero dating experience—to pick up on my mood so keenly. The night before the wedding, I sent the invitations to our class group chat, and it blew up almost instantly.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397692”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G

Eighteen years ago, my husband, Anthony Parker, and his lover, Amber Owens, died in a car accident, leaving me to raise our twin boys. Eighteen years had passed in a flash. I worked hard to raise them, and they were accepted into Ivy League colleges. On the day they received their acceptance letters, Anthony and Amber miraculously came back to me. Amber hugged Anthony, smiling, “Thanks to your efforts, my sons made it to the Ivy League colleges. “Without you, we couldn’t have enjoyed ourselves for so long…” Anthony suggested divorcing me to reunite with Amber. Instead of crying, I smiled faintly, “Okay!” ***** “Mom! We are admitted into the Ivy League colleges!” I heard my sons, Micah and Maxwell, excitedly shouting in the study while I prepared dinner. “Mom! Micah and I are admitted into the Ivy League colleges!” They rushed out and hugged me tightly. I looked at them, who were a head taller than me, with satisfaction. I said, “You both are amazing. I’m so proud of you.” Since Anthony’s death, I had raised two children alone for eighteen years. Now, as they get admitted to top universities, my heart swells with joy. Back then, Anthony and Amber both died, leaving me with a pair of twins. Despite everyone’s opposition, I insisted on keeping and raising the twins. Eighteen years passed in a flash, and the twins grew up. Through my unwavering efforts, they were admitted into the Ivy League colleges. Seeing them to be successful, I was particularly delighted. “Thank you, Mom, for your years of hard work in raising us.” “We wouldn’t be who we are today without you.” Micah and Maxwell were always filial. They understood my years of effort in raising them and promised that after graduation and securing good jobs, they would support me to enjoy my life. With their birthday just two days away, I considered how to celebrate. In the past, I always booked hotel rooms for their birthdays. But this year, I decided to combine it with their graduation party for a bigger celebration. I booked a ballroom at one of the city’s best hotels. At the same time, I shared the news that my two sons were admitted to Ivy League colleges in the family group chat. The group soon buzzed with excitement. [Micah and Maxwell are so awesome!] [If Anthony knew how successful his sons were, he’d be at peace.] I briefly skimmed the messages and posted the party location to the group. After that, I turned off my phone notifications and quietly awaited the celebration.

The birthday party was set for two days later at 10:00 am. I arrived early at the hotel that morning to review the menu and ensure every detail of the party was perfect. Most attendees were relatives of the Parker family, but my parents were absent. Back then, I ignored their objections and insisted on adopting Anthony and Amber’s children. When my parents found out, they were so angry that they almost had a heart attack. Even after so many years, they never understood why I chose to raise someone else’s kids instead of leading a more secure life. Anthony’s parents, Richard and Sofia, entered the hall, assisted by the crowd. They walked straight to the main table and sat down, where Anthony’s brother and sister sat with their families. There were eight people seated at the main table. They surrounded my sons, and the seat was so full that there was no seat for me. “Hannah, what are you waiting for? Hurry and get Mom and Dad some water,” Lydia called out, grabbing some snacks from the table. Lydia was Anthony’s sister. She had endured an unhappy marriage and domestic abuse, and she was criticized for not being able to give birth to a son. Now, at forty years old, she had given birth to a boy, which made her walk with a newfound confidence. Micah and Maxwell attempted to get up to help but were restrained by Richard and Sofia. “Micah and Maxwell, come talk to me,” Sofia urged. “Look at how handsome the boys are, just like my brother,” Lydia said. “They look more like Amber to me,” Anthony’s brother remarked. Richard and Sofia glared at him fiercely, and he quickly shrank back into his seat, not daring to say a word. I moved between the tables, serving food and pouring wine. Micah and Maxwell couldn’t bear it any longer and added a chair between them. They pushed me into my seat and said, “Mom, our birthday is your day of suffering. Sit down and take a rest.” This prompted a shift in the room’s atmosphere. Lydia smirked, “Hannah, my brother would be thrilled to see his son raised so well by you.” Richard coughed lightly, effectively silencing her. “Hannah, today is such a nice day. I have something to discuss with you,” Sofia said, her eyes sparkling. “Go ahead,” I replied. Sofia continued, “Micah and Maxwell are going off to college soon. It’ll be empty for you in that three-bedroom apartment. “When they start school, Richard and I will move in, and I’ll cook for you while you work.” So that was her plan. My parents had initially put a down payment on the house I lived in, intending to add Anthony’s name. Six months into our marriage, he took a drive with Amber and had a fatal car accident. And both of them died. When I saw him again, he was just a handful of ashes. My parents had helped me pay the mortgage, so the property was solely in my name. Now, as my children grew up, Richard and Sofia were eyeing my house. I explained, “Mom, it’s not that I won’t let you live there. Micah and Maxwell will be studying abroad. “That’s why I’ve sold the house and will downsize to a one-bedroom apartment, using the rest for their education.” Richard’s face turned pale. He slammed the table. “As a part of the Parker family, why don’t you discuss such matters with us?” “I’m doing this for Anthony’s children,” I replied, feigning surprise. Richard continued, “What about the money from the house sale? You can give it to Sofia. She will save it for you. I’m worried about your extravagant spending.” In the past, as long as I claimed it was for the children’s benefit, they usually remained quiet. But today, Richard and Sofia’s demeanor suggested I was now expendable with my sons heading to college. Thinking of this, I said calmly, “I’ve instructed my lawyer to deposit the money into a growth fund. “Micah and Maxwell will receive ten thousand dollars monthly until they turn forty.” Richard’s furrowed brow finally relaxed at that. He said, “Good to see you’re thinking ahead and leaving money for my grandchildren. “You don’t need to buy a house. Just rent one, and don’t waste the money.”

As the chatter continued, the hotel manager approached and handed me the microphone. He said, “Today is your sons’ birthday and graduation party. “As their mother, I’d like to ask you to share a few words and some insights.” Taking the microphone, I began, “Thank you all for attending Maxwell and Micah’s graduation party. Today…” “Today, my sons have been accepted into Ivy League colleges. It’ll be a pity if their biological parents are not present on such a significant day.” Before I could finish, a commotion interrupted me. A man and a woman entered arm in arm. I looked up and, despite the eighteen years that had passed, instantly recognized them, my late husband Anthony and his beloved Amber. The hall buzzed with murmurs. Richard and Sofia, seated at the main table, showed no excitement at seeing their son returned from the dead. Instead, they calmly invited Amber to sit beside them. Anthony, who had been “dead” for eighteen years, approached me. He said, “Hannah, you may not be a good wife, but you’ve been a good mother.” My sons, finally breaking free from their shock, looked confused. “What’s going on?” Anthony pointed at Amber and said, “Amber is your biological mother. Hannah couldn’t have children. “If she hadn’t refused to divorce me and threatened me to commit suicide back then, our family wouldn’t have been torn apart for eighteen years.” Before I could defend myself, the Parker family members turned to my sons. “He’s right. It was Hannah’s refusal to divorce that kept you from your birth parents for eighteen years.” “Don’t think Hannah treated you well. She didn’t have the best intentions.” “Well, now that you’re grown and have been admitted to Ivy League colleges, the family can finally reunite.” Micah and Maxwell stood frozen, unsure of how to react. Amber wailed, taking their hands and showing them her phone, “I’m your biological mother. I send you gifts every year. “I even sneak in to see you after school.” As she spoke, she turned to me and added, “Hannah, thank you for raising my two sons so well.” Anthony wrapped his arm around her shoulders and looked at me with a hint of sarcasm. He demanded, “You and I are getting a divorce. After eighteen years, I’m marrying Amber.” Everyone thought I would disagree, or even make a scene. But facing the discussions and inquiring eyes of dozens of people from the Parker family, I laughed, “Okay! I agree. I’ll file for divorce tomorrow and reunite your family.” My words stunned the audience. They couldn’t believe I would give away the sons I had raised for eighteen years. Even Anthony and Amber stared at me in disbelief. They thought I would throw a tantrum and cry but didn’t expect me to agree so readily. Anthony looked at me in disbelief and asked puzzledly, “Are you out of your mind?” I replied directly, “What? Not happy about it?” Amber quickly pulled on Anthony’s arm, and he, fearing I might change my mind, retrieved a divorce agreement from his bag. He said, “Then sign the divorce agreement. From now on, Micah and Maxwell have nothing to do with you, and you can’t see them again.” Without reading it, I signed. “Mom? You don’t want us anymore?” Micah and Maxwell looked at me, hurt and confused by my quick compliance. Amber tucked the agreement away and said complacently, “Hannah, thank you for making us whole. “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be so carefree out there.” Looking at her two tall sons, Amber grinned with a proud smile. “Okay, there’s nothing more for you to do here. Just go.” Richard waved me off impatiently. I said, “Now that the agreement is signed, it’s time to tell you the truth.” “What do you mean?” Amber asked, confused. I sighed with relief. After eighteen years, it was finally over. I clapped my hands and called to the door, “Come in.” Moments later, two figures entered the hall.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397691”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G

On my birthday, Logan Mitchell, my husband, told me he was too busy with work to celebrate with me. Instead, he had someone deliver a cake. He even called to reassure me, as if that would make up for it. “Babe, I can’t be with you today. You’re not mad at me, right? But I got a surprise for you in the cake!” I stared at the property deed I had just pulled out of the cake. The name on it wasn’t mine. It belonged to a girl I’d never heard of. I took a deep breath and said calmly, “No, I’m not mad.” I wasn’t angry. But I knew, at that moment, that our seven-year marriage was over. ***** I threw the cake in the trash and mailed the property deed to the address on the packaging. Then, I sat at the edge of my bed, feeling completely hollow, like my soul had been drained out of me. I never thought the boy who once swore he’d have no reason to live if I didn’t choose him would turn out to be so… ordinary, so filthy. What disgusted me even more was that the apartment he bought for her was in our neighborhood and the same building. His favorite saying came to mind. “The safest place is often the most dangerous.” Thinking back, I should’ve seen this coming. His affair had probably been going on for six months now. For half a year, he’d been getting work calls in the middle of the night and leaving, saying he had to put in extra hours. It wasn’t even an hour after I tossed the cake that Logan called. “Babe, don’t be mad, okay? Just wait for me to get home so I can explain.” I hung up, bitterness welling up inside me. Explain what, exactly? That he just made the one mistake all men make? As I sat there in a daze, a friend request popped up in my contacts. I tapped on it. The profile picture looked familiar. I’d seen it before on Logan’s phone. The contact name he’d saved was Max Emerson. Max was his male assistant. But this profile picture was a woman. And he was the one who kept calling in the middle of the night about work emergencies. I had met Max before. But Logan never let me hear his calls with him. So this had been right in front of me the whole time. I accepted the request. The girl messaged me first. [Hi, Vanessa! I’m Madison Brooks.] I let out a dry laugh. The same name that had been on the property deed. Then, another message came through. [Vanessa, don’t get the wrong idea about Logan. There’s nothing between us. He just treats me like a sister.] [If it bothers you, I can give up the apartment.] Then, she sent a sticker of a teary-eyed, pitiful-looking cartoon. I knew exactly why she was reaching out now. She’d been hidden away for six months. And now? She finally had a chance to step into the light. I ignored her and checked her Instagram instead. Her posts from the last six months were all about Logan. I scrolled all the way down to the beginning of their first meeting. The photo was taken in a hospital. She was lying in a bed, and Logan was peeling an apple, carving it into the shape of a rabbit. The caption read: [Oh my God, I think I’m in love. This accident must’ve been fate bringing us together!] Carving apples into rabbits. Logan’s signature trick. Back when we were young, he’d always do that just to make me laugh. I checked the date. And suddenly, I remembered something. That was the day I had a miscarriage. On his way to the hospital, Logan hit a young girl with his car. He ended up staying at the hospital, taking care of her for two whole weeks. When I finally recovered enough, I offered to go visit her with him. He told me no and said I had just gotten better and shouldn’t worry too much. And I, like a fool, actually believed it. I thought I had married the right person. I thought he was still the same boy who had promised to love me forever. But love was just an act. And he missed his calling. He would’ve made one hell of an actor.

When Logan came home and saw me sitting there calmly, waiting for him, he hesitated before walking over and sitting beside me. Then, in an attempt to please me, he pulled out a necklace. “Babe, this is the surprise I wanted to give you tonight.” The necklace in his hand was one I had admired for a long time but never bought for myself. That was just the kind of person Logan was, full of surprises, always remembering the things I liked. And yet, even now, I still couldn’t believe someone like him would cheat. He avoided talking about the affair, hoping that a gift would smooth things over. But looking at this necklace only made me feel sick. Because today was also Madison’s birthday, an hour ago, she had posted a picture of herself wearing this exact necklace on Instagram, along with a photo of a property deed. It was clear how much Logan adored her. Even after knowing I had caught him cheating, he still chose to indulge her longer. Once, all of his love belonged to me. But now, he had given it to someone else. “Let’s get a divorce, Logan.” My sudden words shattered the illusion of peace between us. The smile on Logan’s face froze. He didn’t yell or argue, almost as if he had expected this. Instead, he leaned back on the couch, looking utterly defeated. “The divorce procedure will take three months. Think it over. Without me, you have nothing. I just made a mistake, that’s all. You don’t have to do this so quickly. “Madison is just a young girl who recently graduated. Don’t go after her. She’s only at the beginning of her life. This is all on me. Whatever you want to do, do it to me.” A sharp pain twisted inside me. Logan hadn’t just divided his love. His heart had already chosen a side. And he was right. I had nothing. I had been raised by my grandmother, and when she passed, she entrusted me to him. Now, I had no one. But that didn’t mean I lacked the courage to start over. I stood up, ready to speak, but a sudden pain flared in my stomach, making me break out in a cold sweat. This was a problem I had developed years ago when I had scrimped and saved to help Logan pay off his debts after his failed startup. Back then, Logan had been beside himself with worry. He had searched everywhere for remedies, cooked nutritious meals for me no matter how exhausted he was, and made sure I took my medicine every day. Because of his care, I hadn’t had an episode in a long time. Logan rushed me to the hospital in a panic. The pain was bad this time. I needed to stay on an IV drip for a few days. It was already past midnight. I told Logan to go home and rest, but he refused, insisting on staying with me. The scene felt so familiar. There was a time when I had spent an entire night in pain, unable to sleep, and Logan had stayed up with me, on edge, not daring to rest. That night, he had been so distressed he even cried with me. But things were different now. Thinking I was asleep, Logan took out his phone and called Madison. “Baby, go to sleep, okay? I can’t be with you tonight.” “But I don’t want to! She’s already asleep anyway. Just sneak over for a bit, please? I have a surprise for you. You’ll regret it if you don’t come.” Logan didn’t answer right away. He hesitated. Then, after making sure I was really asleep, he left. Only after hearing the door close did I finally let out a quiet, pained gasp. But no matter how much my body hurt, it was nothing compared to the pain in my heart.

I didn’t know when I fell asleep, but when I woke up, the sun was already up. Logan was sitting by the hospital bed, resting his chin on his hand, dozing off. It was as if he had never left. The IV drip had already been changed to a new bottle. He must have come back about an hour ago. My stomach was empty, and the hunger was making me uncomfortable. I reached for my phone on the bedside table, planning to order some food. But my small movement startled Logan. He looked delighted for a second when he saw me awake, then quickly noticed what I was doing. He smiled and said, “Are you hungry? I made some soup to warm your stomach. Wait here while I go heat it up.” That was when I noticed the pink food container sitting on the side table. I frowned, wanting to refuse, but before I could say anything, Logan had already grabbed the container and was heading out. Before leaving, he ruffled my hair just like he used to and told me to wait for him. Watching his back as he left, a bitter, nauseating feeling twisted inside me. Even now, he was using Madison’s food container. On my way home, Logan called. “Vanessa, why did you leave? Where are you now?” “I went home.” “Why didn’t you tell me? Do you know I stayed with you all night? I’m exhausted. Can you stop throwing tantrums?” Hearing him take credit for staying overnight, I almost laughed. “Then just think of it as me throwing a tantrum.” I hung up and told the driver to take me to the law firm instead. I printed several copies of the divorce agreement. While waiting in the car, I played on my phone for a bit and stumbled upon a viral video. Someone was being beaten up for being a homewrecker. And the homewrecker? None other than Madison. Even better, the ones beating her up were familiar faces, Logan’s sister, Sophia Grayson, and his mother, Evelyn Mitchell. Madison was pinned to the ground, getting punched and kicked. Her clothes were torn, exposing more than they should. She lay there, barely moving, her body and the ground stained with bright red blood. Someone must have called the police because soon enough, sirens blared, and both the police and an ambulance arrived. All three of them were taken away. When I got home, I was still wondering why his mother and sister had attacked Madison. Then Logan stormed in, his face twisted in fury. Before I could say a word, a stinging slap landed across my cheek. I stared at him in shock. Anger and disbelief surged through me. This was the first time he had ever hit me. “I told you to leave Madison alone! She’s just a young girl who just started working. Why are you so cruel?” Logan spat through clenched teeth. I held my face, my gaze turning ice cold. “What did I do to her? You’re talking about how your mom and sister beat her up because she was the other woman? “I didn’t tell them, Logan. And I wouldn’t waste my breath doing so.” “Don’t lie, Vanessa! If not for you, why would my mom and sister go after her? Do you have any idea that she…” Logan suddenly stopped, looking away evasively. “She’s not in good health. This is my final warning to you.” I felt a crushing pain gripping my chest, making it hard to breathe. What he stopped himself from saying… Madison was pregnant with his child. And me? After my miscarriage six months ago, the doctor said I might never be able to conceive again. So, he had wasted no time finding someone else to have his baby. Right now, I was his wife, yet he was standing here, defending his mistress to my face. He had never felt more like a stranger to me than he did at this moment. The air between us froze. Then, a sudden knock at the door broke the silence. “Mom? Sophia? What are you two doing here?” Logan had just opened the door when he saw Evelyn and Sophia standing outside, both fuming with rage. “What’s your relationship with Madison? “Why did you bail her out, too?” Sophia jabbed a finger at Logan and shoved him hard, her eyes blazing with anger. Her emotions were completely out of control. Evelyn quickly pulled her daughter back and then glared at Logan. “Logan, you better explain yourself! Why are you protecting that homewrecker? Don’t forget who your real family is!” Logan sighed helplessly and looked at both of them. “Mom, Sophia, don’t listen to Vanessa’s nonsense. Madison is just a kid who’s new to society. You didn’t even get the facts straight before attacking her. “You even ruined her reputation! If it weren’t for me, you two wouldn’t be standing here right now.” Their heated argument completely ignored my presence. I didn’t care to get involved either. I was about to head back to my room when Logan called out to me. “Vanessa, come explain everything so there’s no misunderstanding.” He winked at me, clearly signaling me to cover up the fact that Madison was, indeed, the other woman. I had no idea how his mom and Sophia found out, but one thing was for sure. I wasn’t about to lie to him. “Explain what? Explain how you got her pregnant?” Evelyn and Sophia gasped in shock at the same time. “What?! What’s going on? What’s your relationship with her?” “Vanessa, stop making things up!” Logan was clearly flustered, his confidence shaken now that I had exposed his lie. “Logan, you better tell me the truth! Why the hell do you have a child with that bitch?” Sophia was like a raging beast, throwing her purse at Logan’s head over and over. Evelyn didn’t stop her. In fact, she slapped Logan across the face and yelled. “Why did you get involved with that whore? Do you have any idea that she’s Ryan’s mistress?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397690”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G

My husband, Roy Morrison, made me his and Karen Marshall’s son’s surrogate mother, and I pretended to have no clue about that. Instead, their son, Frank Morrison, was carefully raised by me for twenty-five years. When Frank finally got the shares of my company and took over the Hawkins Group, Roy showed up with Karen, who was in a wheelchair. “Gloria Hawkins, Frank is our son. You have dominated him for twenty-five years; now it’s time to release him and let him be with his own mother, Karen,” said Roy to me. Grinning meaningfully, I replied, “Sure, but I’m afraid Frank will say no.” “Gloria, how can you treat Frank like that? He’s still a little boy, and you plan to drown him with these piles of homework?” Karen used to be Roy’s younger brother’s wife. She pulled the weeping Frank into her arms with a coax. “Frank, don’t cry. Mom is so bad, right? What are these math quizzes for? You’re still a child!” Then, she dropped the pen and took Frank’s hand while saying to him tenderly, “How about we go to the yard and do some research about insects?” Playing with insects was one of Frank’s favorites, and his cloudy little face immediately turned sunny as he threw himself into Karen’s arms. Suddenly, he timidly turned his head to me as if asking for my permission. Karen’s husband passed away in a car accident, and she also lost her legs just to save my husband. Fate deprived her of her chance to be a mother from that nightmare. Therefore, Karen poured all her maternal love into Frank. People praised this young woman for being so benevolent since she cared for her deceased husband’s parents even after his death while looking after her nephew like he was her son. Despite her reliance on the wheelchair, she still persisted in walking Frank to and back from school every day, not even daunted by snow. Once there was a blizzard, and Karen fell down from the wheelchair with her forehead bumped, bleeding. However, she still showed up at the gate of Frank’s school in the afternoon with her wound roughly bandaged. She was in charge of everything that Frank put into his mouth, chose all the outfits for this little boy, and always stood by him when he went to drink water or to play. All of this selfless and meticulous care for Frank was, as claimed by Karen because she wanted someone to be there for her, a wretched and infertile woman, when she aged. The very fact was, that Frank was Karen’s biological son with my husband. Reluctant to expose the truth, I just indulged her excessive maternal love for Frank. To be honest, the company wore me out, and piles of contracts and documents needed my signature. Besides, Frank needed company during his childhood. But letting Karen be with Frank didn’t mean giving in to my way of education. I still brought Frank to various activities to teach him what the big picture was and the correct outlook on life. After all, Frank’s having a life view like a homewrecker was the last thing I wanted in my whole life. Back to what was happening now, Karen was about to take Frank to the yard when I strode over to pull my son back. “Karen, don’t spoil him. You don’t want him to become a lazy, cocky man, right?” I said. She replied impatiently, “It’s just a break. Why so fussy?” As she said that, she stroked Frank’s face and continued, “Frank’s gonna be the CEO of both the Hawkins and the Morrison Group. He’s not like those sad sacks. Even if he can do nothing, people will swarm to work for him.” Then, she turned her wheelchair and took Frank’s hand. I couldn’t help but sneer at this shortsighted woman. Sparing myself the trouble of debating with her, I pulled Frank back. He was my nominal son, and I would definitely not give in even an inch in terms of his education. Unexpectedly, the pull was so hard that Karen fell onto the floor with a painful moan. Then, she covered her head and curled up on the floor. A trace of jealousy and hatred flashed in her gaze at me. All of a sudden, someone rushed to us while inquiring anxiously, “What happened? Why did you fall, Karen?” Then, a robust man strode to Karen and carried her in his arms. The terrifying expression on her face immediately switched to a delicate frown, tears rolling down her cheek. She muttered, “Roy, I just wanted to play with Frank and let him feel relaxed a little bit. He has been working on those math problems for more than an hour. But Gloria blamed me for spoiling Frank, and she just…” Meanwhile, Karen hugged Roy’s arm and sobbed. Roy’s face obviously dropped after learning the whole story and reprimanded me, “I know you’re a workaholic, but can you please spare my son? He’s only eight years old! Don’t brainwash my son with your creed of life and make him a robot!”

I calmly looked at Roy, the man I entrusted myself to. Although he was not a very ambitious or competitive man, he was born into a family as wealthy as mine with good looks. For people from powerful families like us, marriage was less about one’s true feelings but was more about the pursuit of maximum benefits. I had to confess that I didn’t love Roy very much, let alone treat him with tenderness and admiration. As the second son of the Morrison family, Roy had no advantage in the competition for the inheritance, considering his elder brother, Hank Morrison, occupied a rather important position in the Morrison Group, while his illegitimate younger brother, Alan Morrison, won the favor of the elders. So, pursuing me was his best choice. The Morrison family and the Hawkins family were respectively recognized as the most affluent families in the northern and southern regions of the country. As the only heiress to the Hawkins family, I had the undoubted right to dispose of my family business. At that time, our families were negotiating about a five-year cooperation in new energy resources, and Roy treated me so tenderly and never defied me during that period of time. Meanwhile, due to a disagreement with somebody, I married Roy in a fit of pique. Then, I stared at Roy coldly. “Frank will take over the Morrison and the Hawkins Group someday. You really think it’s good for him to grow up without any guidance or restraints?” “A spoiled heir will be very likely to ruin your family business that you take over from your forefathers,” I added. Roy wavered after hearing that. Just as he looked at Frank, who was still weeping, Karen cut in timidly, “Gloria, don’t be an alarmist. Taking a short break doesn’t mean Frank will be ruined. He is only eight years old. You can’t rob him of his childhood for money.” Then, she looked at Roy with pitiful eyes. “Roy, what do you think?” Roy lowered his head to show her a smile and put her back into the wheelchair. Then, he carried Frank with one hand and railed at me, “You really should learn how to be a tame woman like Karen. Be a good mother, and stop just talking about money all the time. You look impersonal.” Sneering, I glared at the loving family in front of me and retorted, “May I remind you that Frank is my son. An outsider like her shouldn’t have any right to intervene in his education, right?” After saying that, I provoked Karen with my eyes. Roy was terrified as he looked at Karen and shouted at me, “Watch your mouth, Gloria! Karen saved my life, and my son will be hers. It’s a warning—never call Karen an outsider ever again as long as I’m still in this family. You dare to say that again, and I will definitely make you regret it.” After that, he wheeled Karen out in her wheelchair with Frank. The joyful laughter leaped into the house just after a while. Standing on the balcony on the second floor, I saw Frank riding on Roy’s shoulders and Karen smiling with satisfaction, and sighed at the younger vision of me. If I hadn’t been so strong-headed, maybe Roy could have lived a happy life with Karen without me as their barricade. As Roy backed her, Karen became even more cocky. She stopped asking about my opinion and directly managed the family affair on her own. Watching Karen and Roy flirting, I even felt pity for them since they couldn’t just fuck in this very house. Karen ruined her life just for a hypocritical man like Roy. I wondered whether she was gonna regret this decision someday. As for Frank’s education, I could tolerate them looking after and playing with him, but I would always be at the helm of Frank’s cultivation. I told the vice president of the Hawkins Group to take care of all the unnecessary cocktail parties while spending my nights reading with Frank and telling him stories. Every summer and winter vacation, I would take Frank to top universities around the world and lead him to the world of academics. Meanwhile, I sent him to learn business administration regardless of the sky-high tuition fees. I could tell that Frank didn’t like my seriousness, but as he grew up and had a wider horizon, he started enjoying talking about life with me and sharing his unusual but wonderful thoughts. Every time I brought Frank out for more than half a month, Karen would bombard me with numerous calls, asking me to put more clothes on him or not to put strange foods in his mouth. Seeing Frank frowning at those calls, I asked him with a smile, “Frank, do you think that I have been too strict with you since your childhood and am not as gentle and caring as Karen?”

After pondering for a while, Frank said, “Mom, trees need help to grow upright, right? I am a man. I should work hard to learn so that I can contribute to the country and society like some of my predecessors. That is a meaningful life.” I patted him on the shoulder. He was surely the son of a great expert. Genetics was amazing. With the cultivation of me, Karen, and Roy, Frank grew up a hard-working and outgoing young man who outshone his peers among other wealthy families. At the age of eighteen, he successfully matriculated in the best engineering college in this country. Roy’s father, Teddy Morrison, held high expectations for Frank and gifted him twenty percent of the Morrison Group’s shares as encouragement. The funny thing was that neither Hank’s daughter nor son gained even one percent, not to mention he himself only held twenty percent of the shares. During the last eighteen years, Roy had established his status due to the investment from the cooperation of the Hawkins Group, enabling him to surpass his elder brother. Teddy nodded at every decision Roy made without blinking his eyes because he knew Roy got me behind his back. Even if there were something wrong, I would clean his ass with my own money. Those shrewd senior managers in the Morrison Group had already stood on Roy’s side and made Hank a figurehead of this company. Three years later, Frank graduated and returned home. On that very day, I showed him a four-hour video of the shit between his real father and real mother. Frank, staying mute for like a century, finally managed to utter, “Mom, what do you want to do?” I asked him really calmly, “Are you sure you can put aside their love and devotion to you for twenty years and turn to my side?” Thinking for a while, Frank said, “Mom, I know what I am doing. If he still has the slightest bit of conscience, I will do it softer.” I patted my son on the shoulder and smiled with relief. My little boy had grown up and become more sophisticated than me in some aspects. I knew he wouldn’t let me down. According to my suggestion, Frank soon interned at the Morrison Group. With the support and guidance of his father and grandfather, Frank tripled the corporate stock price. Facing such a big achievement, Teddy began to think about handing the Morrison Group directly to Frank. A couple of days before Frank’s twenty-fifth birthday, we had a family meeting. I proposed that I wanted to transfer all my shares to Frank and let him take over the Hawkins Group to enjoy my retirement. “I’m just a woman, after all, and I’m tired after working so strenuously for twenty years,” I said. Roy’s face was brimming with joy after hearing my decision. Then, I glanced at Karen, who sat in a corner. Her eyebrows raised as she was probably trying her best to suppress the grin on the corner of her mouth. Nevertheless, the excitement in her eyes betrayed her. Meanwhile, Teddy tapped his cane in deep thought. If Frank controlled the Hawkins Group, he would absolutely not be able to serve the Morrison Group anymore. After all, the Hawkins Group and the Morrison Group hadn’t been merged together. Teddy was very reluctant to see his grandson make another corporation thrive. Suddenly, he took my hint that I meant to merge the Hawkins and the Morrison Group into one and form a company mainly led by the old Morrison Group named the ZenithPlex Group. With Frank as its CEO, the ZenithPlex Group would rank first among all the companies in Zephyria. Teddy was thrilled at this conception. The Morrison Group would still be itself as Frank, his grandfather, took it over, while the Hawkins Group was totally wiped off in the business field. The Morrison Group would still thrive in Zephyria after merging with the Hawkins Group. Hank, however, opposed this idea, and I just acquired all his shares at a higher price to erase this trouble of my plan. Facing Teddy’s pressure, Hank finally surrendered and left in a rage with the money. Karen represented her deceased husband and approved my plan without hesitation. She said generously, “Alan passed away, and I don’t have any children. I always treat Frank as my own flesh and blood. I will count on him when I am old, so let this young chap have everything.”   After discussion, we planned to hold a press conference on Frank’s twenty-fifth birthday to announce the merger of the Morrison and the Hawkins Group with Frank taking over this new company. People flooded into the press conference, and all the upper circle of Zephyria attended it, too. The whole place was brimmed with jealous exclaims and congratulations. From now on, the ZenithPlex Group would earn their admiration and be the most optional choice of their business partner. In the presence of lawyers, Frank walked onto the stage with all the shareholders’ trust and signed the contract of share transfer. Then, he gave an inaugural address. The moment he finished his speech, applause broke out in the crowd. Right after his speech, Roy wheeled Karen, who was rugged out at her best, to the stage. With Roy’s help, she managed to stand up with her feeble legs trembling and hugged Frank. She said excitedly, “My son, you finally grow up. May days of being forced to separate my child finally come to an end!” Then, she pulled out a DNA test she conducted twenty years ago and handed it to me in front of the cameras. “Gloria, you hated me because Roy cared about me, so you cooked up a car accident to kill Alan and disable me. You even took my son away!” Glaring at Karen, who was engrossed in a revenge drama, I was kind of surprised to know that she could still reduce her moral bottom line when it was already so low. Maybe that was why she was not religious because she wasn’t afraid to be punished by God when making those things up. Everyone was attracted to Karen’s story with sobs and couldn’t help looking back and forth at Roy, Frank, and me. Then, whispers quietly broke out. “What’s this all about?” said a person. Another murmured, “Frank is not Ms. Hawkins’ son?” “She robbed motherhood of the widow of Mr. Morrison’s younger brother?” someone chimed in. “But that young man is an adult now. If Karen reclaims her motherhood right now, Ms. Hawkins’ years of raising Frank will be in vain!” “Hold on. If Ms. Hawkins transfers her company to Frank now, she will have nothing left if Karen’s claim is true.” Meanwhile, Roy just said to me in disappointment, “Gloria, I know it was the shock of giving birth to a dead infant that drove you mad, making you regard Frank as your own flesh and blood. For two decades, Karen didn’t reclaim her son for you. Now, Frank has grown up, and he deserves to know who his mother really is.” I just stared at Roy, who seemed to be moved by his own lie. He and Karen must be the best work of Cupid as they were all gifted liars. Then, I glanced at Teddy, who awkwardly cleaned his throat and averted my gaze with his face turning to another side. Now, everything was crystal clear. The whole family tacitly approved Roy’s plan to borrow my uterus and even helped with it. No wonder none of them doubted why the widow of an illegitimate son of Teddy could still stay in the family. They used me to cultivate a qualified heir and boost their family business. What a nice plan. Unfortunately, it would have been even nicer if I hadn’t keenly discerned it years ago. I could have had every drop of blood drained by those vampires and been kicked out of the Morrison family, suffering bullying and insults every day. Showering in people’s astonished eyes, I smiled at Frank and asked, “Frank, what about your opinion? Recognize Karen as your real mother and kick me out of this family, or treat me as your mother, considering my effort for your achievement. Which one will you choose?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397688”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G

My boyfriend, Bert Evans, had promised to propose to me on our fifth anniversary. However, on that day, he reserved the mall and threw a grand birthday party for his close female friend, Della Flynn. Looking at the diamond ring about the size of a pigeon’s egg on Della’s finger, I had naively thought it was meant for me. “Della, I want to give you a birthday party that you will never forget,” Bert said loudly as if announcing something important. Then, he took the tab from an empty soda can and handed it to me. “Those tacky things are not worthy of you. You deserve something more special.” He took my hand and put the soda can tab onto my finger, treating it as a proposal. He gave Della a grand birthday party but left me with nothing but heartbreak. Later, when he found out I was going to marry someone else, he came to me with a ring, got down on one knee, and begged me to marry him instead. ***** After the birthday party, Bert supported Della, who was dressed in an evening gown, out of the mall. The night wind was chilly. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. As they got into the car, Bert finally noticed me standing there, looking dazed and heartbroken. He rolled down the window and looked at me. “Are you lame? Hurry up. What are you upset about? It’s just a birthday party for Della, not a proposal.” My gaze fixed on Della sitting in the passenger seat, admiring the diamond ring on her finger. I snorted coldly, “Weren’t you supposed to propose to me today? You tricked me here just to watch you two be all lovey-dovey, huh?” Bert shrugged, resting his hand on the edge of the window, saying with a mocking smile, “Lucy Perry, haven’t I proposed to you? Are you getting in or not? If not, I’m leaving.” I glanced at the soda can tab in my hand. Its sharp edges had already cut a deep gash into my skin. “So, I’m worthless to you, huh?” With that, I threw the soda can tab onto the ground where Bert’s car was parked. Della frowned, looking in my direction. “Lucy, you… Are you angry? Bert only bought me a 50-thousand-dollar diamond ring. Is that really worth getting this upset over? Besides, it’s my birthday. Why do you have to compete for his attention today?” Bert turned to buckle Della’s seatbelt, then turned back to reassure her. “Don’t be upset, Della. That’s just how Lucy is. She has always been jealous. Forget it. She’s just wasting my time. Let’s go.” Della had a triumphant look as she rolled up the car window. I took a deep breath, standing frozen in place, watching Bert drive away. A huge disappointment overwhelmed me. I couldn’t snap out of it for a while. I had thought the elaborate scene Bert had carefully set up was for the proposal. Unexpectedly, the huge backdrop displayed Della’s name. He hadn’t taken anything I said to heart, but he perfectly remembered every detail about Della. I arrived at the mall, meticulously dressed, and I should have been the star of the grand scene. Instead, I wasn’t even a supporting character. The gown that had hung at home for half a month, and the ring kept in a box, were both on Della today. I had imagined myself in that gown, with Bert proposing to me with that ring. That feeling would certainly be extremely happy. But the reality struck hard and fast. He handed me a soda can tab from a drink he had finished and put it on my finger. In the end, our relationship over the years meant nothing to him.

As night fell, there was a light snow. I pulled my coat tighter around me and took out my phone to call my mom, Ebony Perry. “Mom, I’ll listen to you about my marriage.” Ebony paused for a moment before responding, “Alright, I’ll send you Henry’s contact information. Baby, I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” She didn’t say too much, just a few words of advice before hanging up. I seemed to have lost all interest in my future life because of Bert. My parents had always mentioned Henry Ross, a potential match for me, but I had resisted and refused them. Now, I thought even if Henry wasn’t perfect, he couldn’t be worse than Bert. It was a short distance from the mall to my house, but it took me two hours. When I finally arrived, Bert hadn’t returned yet. The house was messy, with his clothes scattered on the floor. If it were before, I would have immediately cleaned them, but now, I didn’t want to do it at all. I threw all the clothes on the floor into the trash can. The carefully prepared candlelit dinner on the table was tossed into the garbage. I had imagined that after the proposal, we would return home to a blissful night. But now, it was just my wishful thinking. Before going to bed, I picked up my phone and scrolled through my social media feed. Della had posted several updates: [Mr. Evans, thank you for giving me a memorable birthday.] [The gown was beautiful, and I loved it. I hope next year’s birthday will be just as special, with you by my side and full of surprises.] I scrolled past these posts and saw Bert’s comment below. Bert, who had always been aloof, would publicly post about Della. Despite my requests, he had never made our relationship public. [Della, you’re the beautiful princess tonight.] Those few words stabbed at my heart. What I had desperately sought, Della had obtained easily. I pondered, but I couldn’t figure out what I lacked compared to Della. Shedding tears over Bert wasn’t worth it, but recalling our five-year relationship, I couldn’t hold back any longer. Tears soaked my pillow. Nearly at dawn, Bert finally came home. Perhaps because of the snow, he exuded a strong chill. Instinctively, I moved to the side. He pulled me back into his embrace, whispering into my ear, his warm breath caressing every inch of my skin, “Lucy, are you still upset about tonight?” Seeing that I didn’t respond, he teasingly nibbled my earlobe. “Why aren’t you talking?” Disgusted, I pushed Bert’s hand away and wriggled out of his grasp. The unique scent of Della’s perfume permeated his body. It almost made me vomit. “Bert, let’s break up.” I lay flat, blankly staring at the ceiling, my eyes showing an unprecedented calmness. Bert abruptly sat up, turning on the light and staring at me. “Are you crazy, Lucy? You want to break up over something so trivial? You’re overly petty. I can propose again on another day.” His gaze turned fierce, and the earlier tenderness had gone. He still didn’t realize that his feelings for Della had long surpassed those of ordinary friends, and he refused to admit it, always insisting that Della was just his friend. I didn’t bother arguing with him. “Yes, I’m too petty, so you’d better find someone as considerate as Della.”

Bert sighed, pulled out a cigarette from the cigarette box on the nightstand, and started smoking, seemingly lost in thought. I wanted to stop him but held back. I had told him to put dirty clothes in the washing machine, take out the trash when he went out, and not to smoke in the bedroom countless times, but he never remembered any of them. Maybe because I had always indulged him, he never took my words seriously. I was tired. Since I couldn’t change him, maybe it was time to part ways. Bert said with a straight face, flicking ash onto the floor, “Work on your temper, Lucy. Besides me, no one else could tolerate you. Can you stop being so hostile towards Della? She’s my friend, and you’re my girlfriend. You’re both important to me. I won’t break up with you.” He thought I was just throwing a jealous tantrum, unaware that I was serious this time. ***** The next morning, Bert had already left when I woke up. I picked up my phone and saw a new friend request on WhatsApp. Last night, I had forgotten to contact Henry, so early in the morning, he had taken the initiative to send a friend request. I accepted the request, and Henry immediately messaged me: [The wedding is in ten days. If it’s too soon, we can postpone it.] Because of what happened with Bert, I dared not have expectations for any man and show my whole feelings, fearing it would end up hurting me once more. I replied: [Alright, let’s do it your way.] After that, I went to the office to finish up my resignation procedure before heading home. Since Bert and I had lived together, I had been paying the rent of the apartment. I posted the sublet information on a website after sorting out the company affairs. Just as I stepped out of the company building, I received a call from Bert. “Lucy, come to Stary Bar. I have something urgent to tell you. Hurry up.” He sounded anxious, and through the phone, I could hear Della and his friends’ voices. Because of these friends, Bert hadn’t been to the office in a long time. It wouldn’t be surprising if the company soon went bust. “Okay, I have something to tell you too.” I got into a ride-hailing car and headed straight to Stary Bar. Pushing open the private room door, I entered, and a cacophony of noise greeted me. Bert, who had been holding Della around the waist, reluctantly moved his arm when he saw me. Bert’s friends laughed, “She really came at the drop of a hat. Bert does have a loyal pet.” “You know, the proposal ring Bert gave her was just a soda can tab!” Those people around Bert recounted the embarrassing moment I had been in that day. I glanced at them indifferently and walked over to Bert’s side. The alcohol had tinted his usually pale face with a rosy hue. He pointed to a glass of alcohol on the table. “Lucy, you love me the most, right?” I snorted coldly, “Cut the crap. Just say what you want.” Bert’s soft gaze turned colder as he pushed the glass of alcohol toward me. “Della lost a round of Truth or Dare. You know she’s allergic to alcohol, so drink this for her. Anyway, you’ve covered for me plenty of times.” Bert still remembered those times I had drunk for him. In the early days of the company, there were many business dinners, and every time, I would go along, worried about his health. Seeing him vomit blood from drinking too much, I felt heartbroken. From then on, I drank every glass of alcohol for him. All his projects were achieved by my cups of alcohol. But now, he was asking me to drink for Della.   “I came to tell you something, not to drink for you,” I sneered. Della gave a half-smile and stood up straight, staring at me. “Do you want to know what Bert said after he lost a round of Truth or Dare? He said you’re not fit to lick my boots. That’s why he gave you that proposal ring. Isn’t that funny?” She leaned closer to me, the strong, cheap perfume on her body hitting my nose. I instinctively stepped back, putting some distance between us. “I’m talking to Bert. You don’t have to show off. I’m not interested in what he said.” Della’s smile faded as she huffed and sat down on the sofa. Bert, annoyed by my attitude, rubbed his temples and looked up at me. “What do you want to say? You want a breakup? Or are you still upset about what happened last night? Be mature, okay? You’re not a kid.” “I’m serious, Bert. Let’s break up.” My words were resolute. Bert seemed unconvinced. He sneered, picked up the glass of alcohol in front of him, and poured it over my head. “You know what you are saying? Get a grip, Lucy. Is that enough? If not, I have more.” He refilled the glass and continued to pour alcohol over me. Tears mixed with the alcohol, wetting my face. Once again, he humiliated me in public, just like yesterday. Della crossed her arms, watching this scene with amusement, while the others on the couches egged Bert on. “See? I knew it! Even if Bert treats Lucy like this, she won’t leave him. She’s really devoted.” “Yeah, but only Della deserves to be with Bert.” “I bet Lucy will get angry but won’t leave, just like yesterday. Anyone want to bet?” The others nodded in agreement, while Bert stood there, remaining indifferent to their mocking words towards me. I coldly scanned the room, finally fixing my gaze on Bert. My lips trembled, but no words came out. Turning away, I ran out of the private room. This time, I wouldn’t give him the chance to hurt me anymore. As I walked out of the bar, I realized Bert had followed me. He stood at the door, calling out to me. I thought he had changed his mind, but it was only to scold me for Della’s sake. Bert warned me, looking fierce, “You didn’t drink for Della, and she ended up drinking herself and now has an allergic reaction. Lucy, if anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive you.” Before I could respond, he rushed back inside. Soon, he came out with the feeble Della in his arms. Those people hurriedly took Della to the hospital, while I, drenched and shivering from the cold wind outside, stumbled a few steps before being knocked down by a passing motorbike. I fell hard onto the ground. The rider didn’t show any remorse, scowling and scolding, “Watch where you’re going, idiot!” He then sped off. I stared at the bloody wounds on my palms and knees, the sharp pain making it difficult for me to stand up. After a while, I managed to get up, leaning heavily on my legs. By the time I got home, it was dark outside. Shaking, I went to take a shower and finally had time to treat my injuries. I knew Bert had called me there to appease Della, but I had gone anyway to tell him face-to-face that we were done. I had said that, but I had endured humiliation from Bert and his friends. After today, I never wanted to have anything to do with them again. It wasn’t completely dark yet. I packed my clothes into a suitcase. Everything else from living with Bert, I threw them into a box and intended to throw it out downstairs. After finishing all this, I picked up my phone and saw Bert’s message: [I’ll be home in half an hour. Make dinner to apologize to Della.] It was sent an hour ago. Seeing the cold, commanding words, I replied: [I’m getting married on the 28th. If you are free, bring Della to the wedding feast.] Just as I sent the message, there was a knock on the door.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397687”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G

My mom had never celebrated my birthday because it happened to be the same day my sister died. On my sister’s birthday, she made me wear her clothes and eat the seafood my sister liked. Once, I ended up in the hospital with a severe allergic reaction, but my mom just told the doctor, “She ate seafood because she craved it.” When I got accepted to a college, she flipped out and insisted I change my name to my sister’s, claiming, “Your sister never got to go to college, so why should you?” I ran out crying and bumped into Jonas, who was smoking outside. He offered me his hand and said, “Wanna go watch the sunset together?” I made the most rebellious choice ever and hopped on his motorcycle. After I disappeared, Mom called me, saying, “Hilary, come back. I’ll celebrate your birthday this time.”

A fire broke out in the neighborhood. My father, Riley Hawkins, a firefighter, rushed in and gave the last available breathing mask to my younger brother, Asher Hawkins. Meanwhile, my mother, Elara Hawkins, a doctor, was frantically trying to help, her face streaked with tears. But she didn’t even glance at me, already faint from inhaling smoke, while she was checking on Asher, who seemed perfectly fine. One of the onlookers couldn’t hold back. “How can you be so unfair?” What they didn’t know was that in my past life, when Elara chose to save me first, she didn’t comfort Asher. He held a grudge and claimed that was the reason he fell into depression. He even deliberately skipped his SATs to get back at me. Elara and Riley blamed me for ruining his future. They forced me to pay for it. They lied, claiming I had an affair with a counselor, and pressured me to drop out of college. To pay for Asher’s medical bills, they sold me off to an old man in the countryside to have his child. The abuse was unbearable, and I eventually died in despair. But this time, I didn’t scream or argue. I quietly agreed to every unreasonable demand they made. Then, they came, crying and begging me to come back home, promising they would never favor Asher again. But this time, I didn’t want their love anymore. ***** The fire was raging, and the sound of crying children and elderly people filled the air. It had been two hours since the fire started, and the flames were about to break through the final barriers. Asher was shaking with fear, his eyes wide with terror. I, on the other hand, remained calm. Following the instructions, we gathered in the temporarily safe area, waiting for the firefighters to arrive. A firefighter looked troubled. “Captain, we’re one breathing mask short…” At that moment, only Asher and I still didn’t have a mask. The firefighter glanced at me, then at Asher. “Captain, give the mask to her. She’s covered in soot and might not make it out.” Asher, hearing this, burst into a tantrum. “Why her? It’s her fault the fire started!” When I heard that, I almost laughed. It was he who carelessly tossed a cigarette butt that set the curtains on fire, but now he was trying to pin the blame on me. But I didn’t say a word. I knew from my past life that explanations wouldn’t help. The firefighter captain was my father, Riley. Without saying anything, he grabbed the mask from the firefighter and placed it on Asher’s face. “Don’t be scared. It’s okay,” he said gently. Then he turned to me, his voice dripping with disdain. “You still think you deserve the mask? If you hadn’t thrown your brother’s cigarette butt on the curtains, none of this would’ve happened. Now you’ve put everyone in this building in danger. Are you happy now?” The blame landed squarely on my shoulders. Since even the fire captain had said it, everyone was quick to believe it. Those who had once stood up for me, upset with Riley’s decision to give the mask to Asher, now turned on me. Their expressions shifted in an instant. An elderly woman slapped me across the face. “If anything happens to my grandson, you’ll pay for this!” A middle-aged man in a suit waved his fist at me, his eyes bloodshot with rage. He was held back by other firefighters, but he yelled, “It’s your fault my house is burning down! Do you know how much this is costing me? This is my daughter’s life savings!” Everyone in the area suddenly blamed me for the fire and all its consequences. Asher, hiding behind Riley, snickered at me, an expression of smugness on his face. But then, he quickly changed to a pitiful look and cried, “Dad, Maeve is glaring at me.” Riley’s anger flared up instantly. He kicked me away with force, sending me stumbling. “How dare you! How could I have a daughter like you? I always knew you were jealous of him. And now that we’re sending him abroad, you’re holding a grudge…” In Riley’s eyes, I was a wicked, heartless person. But in reality, I hadn’t said a word. One hand pressed to my face, the other clutching my aching stomach, I felt dizzy and weak. Just a little longer, and it would all be over. Since they didn’t love me, I was ready to return my life to them. The firefighter who had wanted to give me the mask earlier came over and helped me to my feet, his eyes filled with apology. I simply shook my head. “Let my brother have the mask. It’s only right for me to let him.” I knew Riley never loved me. I couldn’t win against that. So, I stopped fighting.

On the way out, the fire wasn’t raging, but the smoke was thick and choking. I was struggling to breathe, my throat itching and a harsh cough escaping from me. The firefighter beside me, who had been shielding me the whole time, couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried to remove his own mask and give it to me. But Riley, who had been focused on the rescue, spun around immediately. He snapped, “You still have a mission to complete. If you put your mask on her now and delay everything else, can you really take responsibility for that?” I wanted to scream at him. Dad, you care more about the mission than my life? My head felt heavy, as if it might explode. The pain was unbearable. The firefighter’s voice cracked as he tried to calm me down, “Sweetheart, hang in there. Your mom’s waiting for you outside.” My mom, Elara, was downstairs, ready to treat us. But I just shook my head. That wasn’t my mom waiting for me. It was Asher’s. Finally, when we were out, the kind-hearted firefighter rushed to pick me up, his face pale with concern. He wanted to get me to Elara first, to treat me. But Riley just frowned. “Check Asher first! He’s younger. If there are any lasting effects, it’ll be worse! He’s about to go abroad!” Elara’s tears fell as she examined Asher again and again, holding his face, kissing him, as if he was something precious she almost lost. But there was nothing wrong with him. He was laughing at my singed eyelashes, my burnt hair, my face covered in soot. Meanwhile, my condition was worsening fast. I was on the verge of blacking out. Every breath felt like a sharp pain slicing through my chest. The firefighter was pacing in a panic, shouting, “Elara, check her first! She’s not going to make it!” But Elara just smiled, a strange look in her eyes. “You little trickster, we’re both women. Stop trying to play these games. You’re just jealous that Asher’s going abroad, trying to ruin him!” The firefighter, his voice cracking, protested, “How can you be this biased?” With the last bit of strength I had, I managed to give him a weak smile. “It’s my fault. Let my mom take care of Asher first.” In my past life, it was because of his insistence that Elara chose to treat me first. That decision led to both of us carrying the blame for ruining Asher’s future, and Riley often made things difficult for him at work. But this time, I would protect him. After that, everything went dark, and I lost consciousness.

Before Asher came into the picture, my parents loved me with all their hearts. Elara would always pick me up from school, and she’d spoil me with beautiful Barbie dolls. Riley, no matter how busy he was, would always find time to make little toys for me, and he never missed a parent-teacher meeting. But then everything changed. When I was six, that summer, Riley’s parents threatened to take their own lives if my parents didn’t give them a son to carry on the family name. Riley was caught in a corner and had to agree. Elara promised me, through her tears, “Sweetie, after your brother is born, nothing will change. We’ll still be the same.” But things did change. To take care of Asher, Elara, who used to be so protective and couldn’t even leave me for half a day, sent me to live with my grandmother, who never really liked me. My grandma, Ava Hawkins, wasn’t kind. She thought I was useless. On freezing cold mornings, she’d make me wash the whole family’s laundry. After that, I’d have to rush back to make breakfast and then hang up the clothes to dry. By the time I finished, there was no food left. My grandparents went off to work, leaving me with nothing for lunch. I’d sit, freezing, in the pigsty, holding my numb hands and thinking about Elara, my face streaked with tears. When hunger became unbearable, I’d sneak a little pig food. Meanwhile, Asher lived with Elara and Riley, spoiled and pampered. During holidays, my parents would bring my round, chubby brother to visit, and I’d feel this intense urge to hold him. Elara would roll her eyes and say, “You’d think you were born in the pigsty too!” That comment hit me like a punch in the gut. Mom, you used to call me your most precious treasure. I clung to Riley’s legs, begging him to take me home. But he just coldly replied, “You need to listen to your grandparents.” I couldn’t understand why, after I had done exactly what they asked, they still treated me so poorly. From that moment, I stopped hoping my parents would take me away. One day, Elara’s parents, Luna and Leo Smith, came to check on me. They found me feverish and delirious, mumbling, “Mom, Dad, I was wrong. Please take me home…” The doctor said if they’d been even a little later, I could’ve been brain-damaged. I had long been malnourished and was suffering from severe stomach issues. Luna and Leo’s hearts broke. After a big argument with Ava, they decided to take me in. Luna was a college professor, and Leo ran his own business. They were well-off. I thought I had finally escaped my misery and was about to start fresh. But Elara wasn’t pleased. She said, “How could you let my parents raise her? “It’s so unfair to Asher! How can she have what he doesn’t?” So, I was brought back. On the way home, I was so excited, thinking my parents had finally come back to me. But everything was different. The house was big, but there was no room for me, only a toy room and a study for Asher. I ended up sleeping in the bathroom. Asher, who didn’t do well in school, could still go abroad, while I was stuck at a university that gave me free tuition and dorm. Luna and Leo, seeing how unfair everything was, decided to send me abroad for graduate school. But Asher didn’t like that. He wanted to show me I wasn’t worthy. So, he set my bed on fire. The flames quickly spread, and it turned into a disaster. He called my parents, blaming me, saying I was jealous of his chance to study abroad and had tried to kill him on purpose. In my past life, I had to use Luna and Leo’s inheritance to force Elara to save me. But in the end, it still ended in tragedy. This time, if I survive, all I want is to erase all the painful memories tied to them.   I jolted awake, disoriented, with nothing but a blank space in my mind. Reaching up to touch my head, I had this nagging feeling that I was forgetting something important. Pain shot through my body, each breath feeling like it was pierced by a thousand needles. The nurse rushed over, her face full of concern. “Don’t move! You’ve got second-degree burns on your legs. Since you were admitted, you’ve had countless infections. And your lungs, they’re badly damaged from all the smoke you inhaled. You’re going to need a lot of care.” After checking my injuries and confirming there were no serious complications, the nurse muttered, almost to herself, “I’ve never seen parents like this. Their daughter’s in critical condition, and they don’t care at all. But when a guy twice her size has a scratch, he causes a scene.” For the time being, it was Leo and Luna who had been taking care of me. When Luna heard the nurse’s words, her eyes filled with tears. “Maeve, it’s my fault… I should’ve raised her better.” Leo clenched his fists, his face turning a dark shade of red with rage. “Those two… don’t ever come asking me for a penny again!” In my past life, when Leo and Luna found out I was sold off to that old man, they rushed to save me. But in their desperation, they got into a terrible car accident on the way. I managed a weak smile. “Don’t worry, Grandma. At least I’m still alive.” I had been through worse, countless times before. “Maeve, so the act’s over now?” Suddenly, Riley’s voice thundered as he stormed into the room, followed by a group of angry neighbors and a few reporters, cameras flashing like they were ready to turn my suffering into a public spectacle. It was like they wouldn’t rest until I was dragged through the mud. Leo immediately stepped in front of him, his face pale with fury. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Maeve’s just starting to recover!” Elara sneered, throwing a pile of hospital reports onto my bed. “Really, Dad? Are you still going to protect this arsonist? I’m a doctor. I know when someone’s sick. These reports? They’re legitimate. I pulled them straight from the hospital!” Elara’s voice oozed with disdain as she went on, “You two, educated, decent people, yet look at the mess your precious granddaughter has caused. Families are being torn apart because of her. Are you still going to cover for her?” Riley joined in, pointing at me like I was the villain. “Come on. You can’t be taking sides! This ungrateful brat was jealous that we were sending her brother abroad, so she tried to kill him and take his place. Even his eyelashes got burned!” I glanced at the reports, and while they seemed fine at first glance, I quickly realized they were doctored. My injuries, my lungs and legs, had nothing to do with the organs listed in these tests. They were trying to frame me, desperate to humiliate me, no matter what. Leo was holding his chest, looking like he was about to collapse, and Luna was frantically shoving pills into his mouth. Elara, however, stood there, smiling like she had everything under control, almost enjoying the spectacle, as if she couldn’t wait to tear off my mask and expose me to the world. I could only stare, confused, and blinked. “Who are you? “I’m sorry, but… my grandparents are the only family I have left. “My parents had been gone for a long time.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397686”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G

My mother, Gabriela Hayes, was infamous throughout our town. She had been married 18 times, and each husband had met his demise. The fortune teller claimed she was cursed with bad luck in marriage—that any man who wed her was doomed to die. When she fell gravely ill, she had a double coffin constructed before her death. At her funeral, every man in the village competed for the empty space beside her, each desperate to be buried alongside my mother. ***** Funeral music echoed through the mourning hall when someone broke the silence. “Gabriela prepared a double coffin before she died. She must have feared being alone and wanted a companion in death.” I had been grieving in a daze, but these words snapped me to attention. Looking up in disbelief, I saw the massive ebony coffin where my mother lay, with half the space conspicuously empty. When my mother had commissioned this coffin, I hadn’t thought much of it—I’d assumed she was longing for one of her former husbands. But now someone was suggesting she wanted a living sacrifice to accompany her. I shuddered and was about to protest when another voice called out, “Poor Gabriela died so tragically. How could I bear to let her rest alone? Let me be buried with her!” I recognized the speaker as Ryan Murray from our village. He was 35, two years younger than my mother, and they had barely interacted during her life. Why on earth will he volunteer for burial with Mom? His declaration was like striking a match in a room full of gunpowder. Arguments erupted instantly. “If anyone deserves to be buried with her, it’s me! You’re far too old—do you honestly think Gabriela would want you?” “You all losers! I’m the only one qualified to accompany Gabriela!” “Nonsense! Gabriela always favored handsome men—my son is clearly the best choice!” I watched this unfold with mounting horror, my jaw hanging open. My mother, Gabriela, had earned her reputation as the town widow. She had married 18 times, and each husband had perished. I was her daughter from her first marriage. For as long as I could remember, I had cycled through calling different men “Dad.” Yet over 18 years, each of my 17 stepfathers had died unexpectedly within six months of the wedding. Healthy men succumbed to sudden illness. A woodcutter slipped from a cliff while working. A lifelong snake handler died from a venomous bite. One even inexplicably jumped into a well in the middle of the night—a well that remained sealed to this day. They died one after another. When I was 15, a traveling fortune teller passed through our village and declared that Gabriela was born under a curse—that any man who married her was destined to die. The villagers beat him mercilessly, calling him a fraud. Yet after that, no one dared ask for Gabriela’s hand. Now at her funeral, these same villagers arrived in apparent grief. They had eagerly helped me prepare her body and arrange the memorial. Then, to my shock, they began fighting over who would be buried alive beside her. The quarrel intensified, voices rising until punches began to fly. The verbal dispute transformed into an all-out brawl—men punching faces and kicking groins in their desperation. I backed away, terrified of being caught in the violence. Yet oddly, despite their ferocity, no one fought near the coffin. They seemed to share an unspoken agreement to avoid disturbing Gabriela’s remains. I stood beside her coffin, gazing at her pallid face, speechless. Gabriela had never been particularly beautiful, nor was she a good wife. I had learned to cook by the age of five, fearing we might otherwise starve to death. Moreover, her reputation as a harbinger of death had only grown stronger with each husband’s demise. Eighteen men had died because of her. What madness has seized these men, making them so eager to join her in burial?

The brawl in the mourning hall was short-lived. Mason Boyd, the village head and funeral officiant, quickly intervened. He had been the first to arrive at our home after Gabriela’s death. “Enough!” Mason commanded. “There is only one space beside Gabriela. Whoever earns the privilege of joining her must be decided carefully.” I kept my head down and remained silent, my thoughts in disarray. Even Mason wasn’t opposing the idea of filling the coffin with the living. Why? I spent the entire day in a daze, and finally, the mourners gradually dispersed. I thought I might finally find some peace, but late that night, a shadowy figure slipped into the mourning hall. Startled, I nearly screamed before recognizing Ryan’s face in the dim light. He thrust a bundle into my arms, then rubbed his hands together nervously, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling desire. “Esme,” he said, “your mother died too young and spent her final days alone. It breaks my heart.” He leaned closer. “To be honest, I’ve admired your mother for years. My only wish now is to be buried alongside her.” He clasped my hands. “You’re her daughter—surely you’ll help fulfill my request? Don’t you want her to have a companion on her journey to the afterlife?” Goosebumps spread across my skin, and I couldn’t bring myself to agree. “Mr. Murray, you’re still young. Why sacrifice yourself for my mother?” His expression darkened. “How could you say such a thing? Being buried with your mother would be my greatest honor—a blessing beyond anything I could hope for.” I was speechless. If he hadn’t been speaking so lucidly, I would have suspected he’d been brainwashed. After nearly an hour of his persistent pleading, I gave a vague, noncommittal response just to end the conversation. Little did I know, Ryan wasn’t the only one with this macabre intention. Throughout the night, my house became almost as busy as it had been during the day. Nearly every man in the village returned secretly, each begging me to support their bid to occupy the empty half of Gabriela’s coffin. One woman even brought her sixteen-year-old son. “Esme,” she insisted, “though my boy is young, he fell in love with your mother at first sight. He was too shy to express his feelings because of his age, but he’s the perfect candidate to join her in death!” I was terrified. After sending them away, I locked the gate and hid in the backyard. The following day, while sorting through Gabriela’s belongings, I discovered her suicide note tucked away in a drawer. Gabriela had said little before passing, and I’d assumed she died without concerns. Yet here was evidence she’d left me one final message. The last two sentences of her note would ignite chaos throughout our village. [Esme, if anyone wishes to be buried with me, show them this note. Let them spend the night in my cemetery—whoever survives until dawn may join me in burial.] Mason read the note silently before passing it to the other mourners. The village cemetery lay in the wilderness, untended and crawling with venomous insects, snakes, and ants. At night, even predatory beasts roamed there. I couldn’t fathom Gabriela’s intentions, but her instructions provided a solution to the burial dispute. The mourners exchanged glances, their expressions varied, but no one objected. “Simple enough,” someone remarked. “But what happens if more than one person survives?” Another man sneered, “Go or don’t go—I’ll be the only survivor anyway.” As I observed their confidence, my heart raced with growing dread. Nevertheless, the selection proceeded. As sunset approached, nearly 20 men gathered at Gabriela’s chosen cemetery. The grave had already been dug, awaiting tomorrow’s burial. Sleep eluded me that night. I lay awake until dawn, thinking of those men risking death in the cemetery. The villagers shared my concern. Before daybreak, a crowd gathered at the village entrance, and together we journeyed to the cemetery. The metallic scent of blood reached us before we even approached the cemetery grounds. Upon arrival, we discovered bodies strewn everywhere. Some victims bore wolf bites, clearly attacked by predators from the mountain. Some showed no visible wounds but had purple faces and blackened fingernails—telltale signs of poisoning. Several displayed distinct marks on their necks. Most, however, had been killed by their fellow contenders. Bright crimson soaked into the soil, staining the entire cemetery red. Suddenly, a figure emerged from among the corpses. It was Austin Murray, Ryan’s son. Blood-drenched and grinning, he announced, “Dawn has broken. I’ve earned the right to be buried with Gabriela.” I shifted my gaze and spotted Ryan’s body on the ground, his son’s dagger protruding from his heart.

I finally understood Gabriela’s intentions. It wasn’t a mere coincidence that only one person would survive a night in the cemetery. To be the sole survivor, they had willingly slaughtered one another, ensuring only one remained. The villagers ignored the corpses and rushed forward to congratulate Austin. “Young and full of potential. Good to see strength prevail!” “How fortunate you are to be buried alongside Gabriela.” They all wore smiles, some tinged with envy, but not one showed fear or disgust at the carnage. I watched this spectacle until I could bear it no longer and erupted in hysterical screams. “Enough! They had killed each other for a place in a coffin! So many people died, and now you want to sacrifice one more?” My voice cracked with desperation. “You’re all insane—burying people alive!” The entire cemetery fell silent as everyone turned to me with disapproving expressions. “Esme, you’re too young to understand what an honor it is to be buried with Gabriela.” “It’s their blessing to die for her. If they couldn’t secure a position, it’s only because they were useless.” I couldn’t comprehend their madness. To me, the corpses scattered across the ground formed one massive grave. I stumbled back home, the iron scent of blood still filling my nostrils. I sat before Gabriela’s coffin, my head throbbing with pain. By midday, still determined to stop Austin, I went to his house. When I entered, I found him admiring himself in a mirror, already dressed in a burial shroud. His face brightened when he saw me. “Esme, perfect timing! Tell me—does this shroud complement your mother’s? I spent hours selecting it. We’ll have matching burial clothes.” Matching burial clothes? I tried to smile but couldn’t manage it. “Austin, must you really be buried with my mother?” Austin and I were both 18 and had played together since childhood. I couldn’t understand why he suddenly yearned for a living burial—enough to murder his own father. Austin’s eyes gleamed with determination, and his face flushed with eagerness. “Esme, this is my life’s wish. Do you know how long I’ve awaited this day?” He leaned closer. “I’d do anything to be buried alongside Gabriela!” “Then wait decades until your natural death,” I pleaded. “Why must you be buried alive?” “Decades?” he scoffed. “That’s an eternity. I want to join her now,” he stated with frightening conviction. I gazed at him deeply, recognizing the futility of persuasion, then turned and left. Three days later, Gabriela was laid to rest at dusk. Austin reclined in the coffin with a serene smile, clasping Gabriela’s cold hand in his. He glanced at me reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Esme. Your mother won’t be alone. I’ll remain with her forever.” The mourners sealed the coffin lid, driving nails into it one by one. A procession stretched from my house to the cemetery, yet no sound emerged from within the coffin. I wondered if Austin had died the moment they sealed him inside. The corpses from the cemetery had long been cleared away, leaving only rust-colored soil. Several men stepped forward from the crowd, lowered the coffin into the pit, and covered it shovelful by shovelful. When they finished, everyone laughed as though relieved of a tremendous burden. “Austin is truly blessed to be buried with Gabriela.” I remained silent, but as midnight approached, my anxiety intensified. At the stroke of 12, I ventured out with a shovel and headed directly to the cemetery. I couldn’t allow Austin to die this way. I bowed respectfully before Gabriela’s grave and then began frantically digging away the freshly packed soil covering the coffin. It took every ounce of my strength to pry out the nails. However, when I carefully lifted the coffin lid, I saw a scene of unspeakable horror.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397685”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G

Five years after I was brought home, I died in a car accident. As my soul left my mangled body, I wondered how my parents—who had always despised me, regretting the day they brought me home—would react. Would they be heartbroken? Or would they feel relieved? The answer was neither. My dad used a business trip as an excuse to skip my funeral altogether. My mom shed a few crocodile tears but later confided in her friends that she felt a weight had been lifted. My brother thought my death was a blessing. No one would be trying to take what he thought was rightfully his sister’s anymore. They even went on a family vacation abroad to comfort their adopted daughter, who had shed a few insincere tears. Seeing all this, I gave a bitter laugh. I had overestimated my importance in their lives. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my parents came to the orphanage to take me home. Looking at my parents sitting across from me, their eyes red and voices trembling with emotion, I knew I had been reborn. It was the same scene and the same words that had moved me to tears in my previous life. As a child who grew up in an orphanage, I had been overjoyed to finally have a family and the love I had always longed for. But the excruciating pain of being crushed by a car in my last moments still sent shivers down my spine. I clenched my fists to suppress the disappointment of being ignored and dismissed by my so-called family after my death. Seeing my silence, my parents thought I was just unfamiliar with them. My mom took my hand and led me upstairs. “Zoe, the rooms on the second floor are for us to rest. You can pick one you like.” I scanned the area and settled on the sunniest room, filled with pink and exquisitely decorated like a princess’ bedroom straight out of a fairy tale. In my previous life, I had thought my parents had prepared this room for me, and I had chosen it with delight. However, my choice had made my parents’ expressions freeze awkwardly. Then, my mom forced a smile and said, “Zoe, this room is Bella’s. She’s your sister. If you like the decoration, we can do the same for your room.” I was puzzled and asked, “Sister? Mom, I thought I was your only daughter.” My mom choked on my words and her face changed slightly. “Bella was adopted after you got lost. She’s your sister now.” I felt a pang of disappointment. They had adopted another daughter to replace me after I was lost. Feeling a mix of bitterness and jealousy, I wanted to prove that I was more important to them than their adopted daughter. “Mom, I’m your biological daughter. This room is rightfully mine, isn’t it?” My parents were left speechless. Just as they were caught in a dilemma, Bella Brooks, who had returned without my notice, stepped in to ease their embarrassment. “I’m already happy to be your child. I don’t mind giving up the room,” she said with a forced smile, though the hurt in her eyes was evident to my parents. Bella was the same age as me but far more mature. Compared to her, I seemed rude and petty. After a long silence, my dad spoke up, “Zoe, wouldn’t you prefer a brand-new room? We can decorate it exactly the same way.” He was trying to persuade me for Bella’s sake. They clearly favored her over me. What did that make me to them? I fell silent, and the atmosphere grew awkward. Bella broke the silence. “If Zoe likes it, she should have it. It’s just a room.” She began packing her clothes. My mom watched, her eyes filled with sympathy for Bella, but Bella shook her head gently. In my previous life, I had ignored all this and gleefully thought I had won my place in their hearts.

I moved into Bella’s room, and she was relocated to an even more lavishly decorated space that my parents had prepared to make up for it. When my brother, Alex Brooks, returned, Bella was tearfully packing her new room. Alex’s anger flared. He dragged Bella to confront me. “You, from the orphanage, have no manners. You just got here and you took my sister’s room. Get out of my house!” I was exploring the room, admiring a delicate cup, when Alex’s furious face made me drop it. The shattering glass echoed through the house, bringing my parents upstairs. Alex turned to our parents. “Bella has been with you for years, and yet you let an outsider take her room. Does blood really mean that much?” I was stunned. They were my parents, my brother, my family. Why was I the outsider? Our parents remained silent, implicitly agreeing with Alex’s words. It turned out they didn’t think of me as family. In the days that followed, the more I lacked something, the more I tried to prove myself. Under Bella’s influence and my own foolishness, I competed with her in everything, yet I always fell short. Later, Bella won the international piano competition. At her celebration party, I was ridiculed by her friends. Humiliated, I ran out of the hotel and was hit by a speeding car right outside the entrance. Inside the hotel, there was joy and celebration; outside, I was alone, bidding farewell to the world. In my last moments, memories flashed before my eyes, fleeting and gone. In this life, I wouldn’t be a fool again. Reborn, I would recognize what I truly wanted and stop chasing after a love that wasn’t worth it. “Any small room will do.” My parents were taken aback by my modest request. “Are you sure? Do you need us to decorate it?” they asked, pretending to care. “No need. A simple room is fine. Actually, a smaller room makes me feel safer.” Their relief was evident. They were more than happy to let me stay in a shabby, cramped room. When Bella came back and saw me moving my luggage into the small room, she put on a show. She approached me with a carefully wrapped gift. “Zoe, I got you a necklace as a welcome-home gift.”

Before I could react, Bella pulled out the necklace and reached for my neck, pretending to trip backward as if I were pushing her. But I was ready for this. As she leaned back, I grabbed her arm, and instead, I lost my balance and fell to the ground. Bella was taken aback by my move, while I calmly stood up, dusting myself off. “Thanks for the gift, but you should be more careful. You almost hurt yourself. Good thing I caught you. Otherwise, you’d be the one on the floor,” I said, my voice steady. Bella was speechless, her plan foiled. I wasn’t naive. I knew exactly what she was up to. In the previous life, it was the room, and in this life, it was the necklace. Bella had always been a master of backup plans, scheming to make me her shadow. But I wasn’t falling for it. I had changed my path this time, and her schemes seemed almost comical to me. I had learned to love myself in this life, and I wasn’t interested in anything she cared about. When I was reborn, all I wanted was to leave this family, be independent, and find my own worth. “I’m really too clumsy. I just wanted to give you the necklace and get along with you, but I ended up causing trouble,” Bella said, still quick on her feet. Her words, of course, were not for me but for our parents. “I’m just a burden. Everything I do seems to cause trouble,” she continued. Sure enough, my mom couldn’t bear to hear that. She pulled Bella into her arms and comforted her, “Of course, you’re not a burden. No one in this family is a burden. You’re all my treasures.” My dad chimed in, “Parents never think their kids are a hassle.” When similar things happened to me, I was just a troublemaker. But with Bella, they assured her that no parent would ever think their child was a burden. In my past life, when I stumbled, they called me clumsy and told me not to embarrass them. I didn’t want to watch their act anymore, so I walked straight into my room and shut the door. Through the thin walls, I could faintly hear Bella’s voice. “Does Zoe not like me?” “Zoe’s just tired,” my mom quickly replied. My dad added, “She left without saying a word. Kids from the orphanage really need to be taught some manners.” I pulled the blanket over my head with a cold laugh, blocking out their voices. What was there left to expect from a family like this?   When I came downstairs, the only people around were the maids cleaning up. As expected, my parents were probably comforting Bella after her little performance and taking her out to cool off. I grabbed my book and headed for the door. It was time to start planning my future. I was still a student. Getting into a good university was my only way to a better life. Just as I was about to leave, Alex was walking back in. We locked eyes, and he looked at me warily, like I was some thief. “Where do you think you’re going, Zoe?” he asked. “To the library to study,” I replied honestly. Alex let out a mocking laugh. “Don’t be pretending. Are you really going to study or just trying to act like the perfect child and steal Mom and Dad’s attention from Bella?” I ignored him, but he wasn’t done. “I’m warning you. No tricks. No matter how hard you try, you’ll never replace Bella in their hearts.” In both lives, Alex had always seen me as someone out to steal the love meant for Bella, as if I were the villain trying to break up their perfect family. But who cared what he thought? I walked past him without another word, heading for the library. Alex wasn’t giving up. “Watch it, Zoe. Keep your fox tail hidden. I’m onto you!” Dinner was a family affair—Mom, Dad, Bella, and Alex were all there. They had planned a big dinner to announce me as their child. In my past life, I had eagerly anticipated this dinner, competing with Bella every step of the way. But it never happened. I kept asking, and they kept making excuses. In the end, they blamed me for being selfish and vain. “You only think about yourself. You never considered how Bella would feel, and how she might be judged at this dinner. You’re so selfish and conceited! “You’re nothing like a Brooks. You only think about yourself and don’t care about others. How could I have a daughter like you?” Back then, I didn’t understand. It was their idea and their promise, so why did they turn it around and call me selfish? So, in this life, I refused when they brought it up. “There’s no need to waste time and money on a fancy dinner. It’s enough that we know the truth among ourselves,” I said. My parents were shocked. After all, I had grown up in an orphanage, and they hadn’t expected me to turn down such a grand event. Bella couldn’t hide her relief, but she still pretended to persuade me. “A dinner would help more people get to know you.” “No, thanks. I don’t like noisy dinners. It doesn’t matter if people know me or not,” I insisted. My firmness pleased my dad, who was worried about the cost and didn’t think I was presentable enough for such an event. He was afraid I’d embarrass him. My refusal made them happy, but they were too concerned with appearances to let it go. “This dinner could help you expand your social circle. It’s a good idea,” they insisted. Their act was so transparent. It was almost funny. Thinking of what I was about to do next, I said, “Since you’re so concerned about me, I guess I can’t say no.” Their smiles froze as soon as the words left my lips.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397683”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G

My daughter was critically ill and in urgent need of a large sum of medical expenses. However, my husband, Noah Wilson, at that time directly gave up our daughter’s treatment and went on a date with his mistress, Ashley Morgan. In my moment of despair, my first love, Victor Hastings, gave me five million dollars and took good care of my daughter with me. But in the end, my daughter still passed away. Six years later, Victor and I had our own child. When I went for a prenatal check-up at the hospital alone, I accidentally overheard the conversation between Victor and the doctor. The doctor said, “Mr. Hastings, you and Ms. Moore will have your own child now. What if she finds out about what had happened that year?” Victor said, “Ashley was critically ill back then. It was a last resort for me to use some means to transplant the girl’s heart to Ashley. What’s more, now that Zoey is pregnant again, she should let go of it.” I realized that my daughter had been deliberately misdiagnosed. Her heart had been secretly transplanted to Ashley by Victor. I wept silently. It turned out that the baby in my belly now was just a way for Victor to make amends to me. During these six years of our marriage, Victor had been lying to me, all for the one and only love in his heart, Ashley. I stroked my slightly protruding belly and gave a bitter smile. Six years ago, I couldn’t save my daughter, and now I didn’t want to continue the marriage. In the hospital office, the doctor let out a slight sigh and said regretfully, “All right, Mr. Hastings. But it was not worth it. Ashley is already married, and you should move on. After all, Ms. Moore loves you so much. She is a good woman.” Victor paused and then replied firmly, “It was worth it. I don’t care about the title. I just want to protect Ashley. It doesn’t matter who she loves. I want her to be healthy and happy. “Zoey is indeed a good wife and will also be a good mother. It’s a pity that I don’t love her. Love can’t be forced.” Hearing Victor’s words, the doctor shook his head and didn’t ask any more questions. The doctor said, “Ms. Moore’s fetal condition is unstable. She has already lost one child. Please pay more attention to her.” After a long silence, Victor softly responded. I bit my lip hard and didn’t make a sound. I didn’t dare to cry out loud until Victor and the doctor left. It turned out that my daughter, who had just been born for a few days, didn’t die of illness, but was deliberately misdiagnosed by the doctor whom Victor had bribed, all to replace Ashley with a fresh heart. Back then, my daughter was diagnosed with a serious illness and was admitted to the intensive care unit. Noah didn’t want to bear the burden, left the hospital, and got together with Ashley. The appearance of Victor was our hope. Now I finally knew that Victor’s offer of help was to keep an eye on this heart that belonged to Ashley. After getting divorced from Noah, Victor married me, probably just out of guilt. I left the hospital. It started to rain heavily outside. I didn’t take a taxi, stumbled along the road, and kept crying. When I got home, the maid saw my disheveled appearance and quickly came up to ask, “Mrs. Hastings, it’s raining. Why didn’t you ask the driver to pick you up? You’re still pregnant and can’t catch a cold.” Victor, who heard the voice, came out of the study. Seeing my red eyes and messy hair, he showed a sympathetic expression, put down the coffee cup in his hand, and picked me up. Victor chided, “You’re almost going to be a mother. Why are you still being as willful as a child? “What if you hurt the baby in your belly by getting caught in the rain?” I glanced at him and murmured, “Victor, I’ve been a mother before. I don’t need you to teach me. “Even if the baby dies, it’s okay. I’ve already lost a child anyway.” Victor’s steps paused. He frowned and finally said nothing. The bathtub was already filled with warm water. Victor wanted to help me take off my clothes, but I refused. He looked at me in confusion, as if wondering about my unusual behavior. After a long while, he left the bathroom. I repeatedly washed myself, trying to wash away all the marks that Victor had left on me over the years.

When I returned to the bedroom, Victor was already sound asleep. Looking at the profile of Victor, who had been with me day in and day out, I felt a sense of strangeness. In my dream, Victor took hold of my hand. He said, “Don’t leave. Stay with me forever, Ashley.” Victor wore an expression of doting and dependence, an expression that he had never shown when facing me. Then, Victor’s phone lit up. It was a message from the contact labeled “Dear Ashley”. I tried the password several times but couldn’t unlock his phone. My birthday, Victor’s birthday, and even Ashley’s birthday were not the correct passwords. For the last chance, I tried the date when my daughter passed away. Unexpectedly, I succeeded this time. On the day my daughter died, Ashley got a new lease on life with my girl’s heart. It turned out that Victor had been loving Ashley silently and attentively in such a way. Ashley sent Victor several photos. In the photos, Ashley’s smile was dazzling. She leaned against Victor. He accompanied her in making intimate posing gestures, though his movements seemed a bit stiff. Ashley: [Victor, I’d be happier going to the amusement park with you. Noah is much more boring than you. You promised to accompany me to take portrait photos tomorrow. See you then. Love you.] Victor and Ashley were like lovers in the honeymoon phase, making me feel like a clown. But tomorrow was the day that Victor had promised to accompany me to the prenatal check-up. I didn’t know which was more important to him, his baby or the woman he loved. That night, I didn’t sleep a wink. I hoped that Victor would choose to accompany me to the prenatal check-up. If Victor chose to accompany me tomorrow, then for the sake of the baby, I would give him another chance. The next morning, Victor got washed, dressed early, and was ready to leave. He looked full of energy. Just as he was about to go out, I grabbed the hem of his clothes. I said, “Victor, where are you going? You promised to accompany me to the prenatal check-up.” He stopped smiling. After thinking for a long time, he gently patted my hand. He said, “Zoey, I’m sorry. I have a very important meeting today and can’t accompany you to the hospital. “You’re so understanding. You will support my work, right? “You said yesterday that you have experience in giving birth and can manage everything smoothly without me.” Seeing that I kept my head down and didn’t speak, Victor smiled and kissed my forehead. He said, “Honey, I’ll bring you a gift when I’m back.” Then, Victor left without looking back. Looking at Victor’s back as he quickly walked away, I gave up hope. I checked the nearest flight tickets to Harrowfell and called my good friend, Maria Davis. I booked a flight for the night after tomorrow. Once I arrived in Harrowfell, I would officially start a new life.

I applied light makeup to make myself look less haggard. I went to the best law firm in the city and consulted about the relevant procedures for divorce and the matter of my daughter’s death due to misdiagnosis. The lawyer quickly drew up the divorce papers for me. However, to hold Victor and Ashley accountable for the death of my daughter, more evidence was needed. That night, I cooked dinner and opened two bottles of the fine red wine that Victor had collected. When Victor got home and saw me sitting at the dining table, he was taken aback and then gave a knowing smile. He said, “Zoey, you can just leave these things to the servants. You don’t have to do that; just enjoy your life.” He smiled and pulled me into his arms. We were so close that I could even smell the rose perfume on him. I asked Victor when he had changed to this strong perfume. Victor sniffed his collar guiltily and quickly explained, “I met a female CEO at the meeting today, and I accidentally got her perfume smell on me. “Zoey, how could you doubt me? Are you still mad at me for not accompanying you to the prenatal check-up? I’ve already explained it. I thought you would understand me.” People with a guilty conscience were always aggressive. I just asked casually, but Victor kept blaming me. Seeing that I was silent, Victor changed the subject and took out an exquisite diamond necklace from his pocket and put it around my neck. He said, “Zoey, don’t be angry. This is a gift I specially brought for you. There’s only one in the whole world, and it’s unique. Do you like it?” The diamond necklace glistened under the light of the candle, and it was beautiful. I gently touched the necklace. We had been married for six years, and every time we had a quarrel, Victor would give me jewelry. But no amount of jewelry could change the fact that he had cheated, nor could it change the fact that my daughter had been killed. When he finally saw me smile, Victor began to eat the food I had cooked. He praised my cooking skills, but in the end, he only ate a little. He had already eaten outside and could not enjoy the delicious food at home. I made Victor drink several glasses of wine. He soon got drunk and fell onto the bed. While he was drunk, I secretly slipped into his study, trying to find some evidence that my daughter had been killed. In the end, I only found a document about organ transplantation from six years ago. In the document, Victor, as my spouse, signed the organ transplantation contract on my behalf. No wonder Victor was in such a hurry to marry me back then. It turned out that he just wanted Ashley to recover as soon as possible. After taking a photo of the document, I put it back in its original place. I packed the divorce agreement with the photo put them in the email, and set them to be sent at a scheduled time. When my plane took off, these documents would all be sent to Victor’s email.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397682”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G