After seven years of marriage, Ethan finally asked me for a divorce because of his mistress, Chloe. He said, “Vivian, she’s different from other girls. She came to me pure and innocent.” I nodded silently. I suppressed my inner excitement, terrified he’d see through me. God knows. If he didn’t bring up divorce soon, I’d barely be able to hold back myself. Last night, billionaire Harrison forced me to be his girlfriend using eighteen different positions in bed. Now my whole body won’t stop trembling. When I took the divorce agreement from Ethan, my whole body was shaking. “Vivian, I’m sorry for wronging you.” Seeing my uncontrollable trembling, Ethan said somewhat helplessly, “This girl came to me pure and innocent. I need to give her what she deserves.” “I understand.” I nodded. My body still wouldn’t cooperate—it kept trembling. Especially my legs. They were shaking like a sieve. But I didn’t notice. I was focused intently on reading the divorce agreement. Ethan and I had been married for seven years. We’d been childhood sweethearts. We started dating in high school and got married right after college graduation. At the wedding, Ethan cried like a baby, saying he was blessed beyond measure to marry me. But in the third year of marriage, he had someone on the side. The first time I caught him, he panicked and begged on his knees for forgiveness. I forgave him. So there was a second time, a third time, an Nth time. But he said no matter how much he played around outside, I would always be his wife. Yet this time, he finally asked me for a divorce because of a mistress. I’d met the girl. Just twenty years old, delicate as could be. She loved calling Ethan in the middle of the night. Every call, she’d cry. She cried so much it broke Ethan’s heart. To comfort the girl, Ethan spent less and less time at home. His sudden return today startled me. What if we’d run into each other? How embarrassing that would be. I’d started seeing someone on the side a year ago. Ethan didn’t know. Not that I deliberately hid it—he just hadn’t paid attention to me in a long time. Or rather, deep down, he didn’t think I could ever betray him. I’d heard him on the phone with a friend: “Vivian? She can’t live without me. No matter what I do outside, she’ll still wait obediently at home for me.” That moment, I suddenly started reflecting on myself. Why could he? But I couldn’t? Why could he say so matter-of-factly: “It’s normal for men to fool around outside.” But I couldn’t? After deep reflection and painful deliberation. I bravely stepped outside the shackles of marriage. My first affair was with Harrison, the heir to the Morrison fortune. That night he got in a fight at a bar. I was watching the excitement from the sidelines. As a bystander, I just commented: “Young people sure are hot-blooded.” Then he caught me: “Lady, I’m even hotter in bed. Want to try?” I looked at his face—handsome despite being covered in bruises—and his well-developed pecs and firm, round ass peeking through his clothes. I boldly tried for one night. And that one try became impossible to shake off. Harrison’s clinginess rivaled, even exceeded, Ethan’s mistress. At first he only clung to me in bed. Gradually he pushed for more. He insisted I make things official with him. Like last night—this young master went crazy in the middle of the night and stormed to my house, demanding I make him my legitimate boyfriend. I didn’t give in, so he tormented me all night long. If he hadn’t had a business trip early this morning, he would’ve run right into Ethan. Ethan’s phone kept ringing. Chloe couldn’t hold back anymore and had called several times. Her voice was loud enough that I could hear. She was crying on the other end: “Why is this divorce taking so long? Is she refusing? You promised me you’d divorce her even if you had to leave with nothing. Are you lying to me?” Hearing the words “leave with nothing.” My eyes lit up. Ethan coaxed her in a low voice: “Almost done. Be good and wait at home. I’ll buy you the duck neck you love on my way back.” “One hour. Maximum one hour. You must come back.” “Okay.” Ethan hung up. “Vivian, if there’s no problem, just sign.” Ethan urged me.

Actually, the divorce agreement wasn’t bad. Ethan was giving me half the assets. You could see his sincerity. Originally, I would have accepted. But thinking of my current status and all these years of humiliation… Not taking advantage when you can brings a lifetime of bad luck. Not taking advantage of a scumbag brings eight lifetimes of bad luck. So in that moment, I pretended to be upset and said, “Ethan, back when Sterling Group almost went bankrupt due to poor management, I accompanied you to business dinners and drank until I had stomach bleeding, all to secure sponsorships and financing.” “Vivian, that’s all in the past. When love is gone, it’s gone. You can keep my body but not my heart. Why bother?” Ethan tried to reason with me. “I think I should have a share of Sterling Group.” I stated plainly. Ethan froze. He probably didn’t expect I wanted Sterling Group itself, not him. “I want fifty percent of your original shares in Sterling Group, not the cash equivalent.” “What do you want shares for?” Ethan asked, surprised. “Nostalgia, I guess.” I said flatly. Ethan hesitated. To him, shares were naturally more important. He wanted absolute control of the company. Giving me fifty percent would mean he wasn’t the majority shareholder anymore. “Fine.” Ethan agreed readily. He probably figured that even if I had shares, I couldn’t really participate in company decisions. “I want the cash too.” I continued making demands. “Vivian, don’t push your luck.” Ethan clearly didn’t want to. “Money is all I have left.” I looked at Ethan. While you. You have great love. Seeing my bloodshot eyes and trembling body, Ethan reluctantly said, “Fine, I’ll give it to you. But Vivian, don’t come pestering me afterward.” “It’s a deal.” Ethan quickly had his lawyer draft a new divorce agreement. I signed it readily. I rode in his car to City Hall. The moment I opened the passenger door, I saw large words stuck there: [This Princess’s Exclusive Seat—Everyone Else Back Off!] Obviously not posted by me. Ethan noticed too and explained, “The girl likes to play around.” “No problem, I’ll sit in back.” The ride was quiet. Ethan suddenly asked me, “Why aren’t you talking?” I was looking at messages Harrison sent me. He’d just landed and was message-bombing me. [Landed safely.] [I miss you.] [Do you miss me?] [Every second away from you is torture.] [Give me official status when I get back, okay?] [What’s good about that rotten cucumber Ethan? I’m more handsome, richer, younger, and have better stamina than him.] “Vivian!” Ethan’s voice got loud. I frowned. “What?” “Who are you chatting with? Can’t you hear me talking to you?” “What is it?” I asked, puzzled. “I said after the divorce, if you have any difficulties, you can come to me. After all, we were married. I’m not that unreasonable.” Ethan repeated impatiently. “Okay.” I nodded and agreed. The car fell silent again. Ethan couldn’t help but speak again. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?” “Then I wish you and her a long and happy life together.” I said. “No need to pretend in front of me.” Ethan was magnanimous. I wasn’t pretending. Bitch and dog, forever together. Ethan suddenly said kindly, “Vivian, you should see more of the outside world. Your life is too narrow. Haven’t you noticed you don’t have any friends? “Like this, after divorcing me, can you even find your next man?” I laughed lightly. “We’re getting divorced. My business is no longer your concern.” “I’m worried about you being alone with no one to take care of you.” “All these years, haven’t I always been alone?” I said coldly. Ethan naturally understood my sarcasm. He paused. “I mean, I have lots of friends. Want me to introduce you to someone?” “Sure.” I agreed generously. Ethan seemed stunned, then said, “Okay, when there’s someone good, I’ll introduce you.” After reaching City Hall, we quickly completed the divorce registration. When we left, Ethan said he’d drive me home, but his mistress kept calling him, so he left in a hurry. I looked up at the blue sky and white clouds above, finally understanding what it meant to feel reborn. Over twenty years of feelings truly vanished in that instant.

I didn’t tell Harrison that Ethan and I had registered for divorce. I couldn’t really say why. Maybe I just never thought about making things official with Harrison. We were just playing around. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. But Ethan’s mistress Chloe clearly couldn’t wait any longer. On the fifth day after we registered for divorce, she posted on social media to mark her territory. We’d added each other on SnapChat at Chloe’s initiative. At first I refused, but she was persistent. One day my finger slipped and I accepted. The photo showed her and Ethan holding hands, both wearing matching couple rings. It happened to be that day. A mutual friend of Ethan and mine was having a birthday party. We both went. Ethan brought Chloe along. Before I arrived, I heard a group of people joking in the private room: “When are you two having your wedding reception?” “Wait, did Vivian really agree to divorce? I remember she loved you to death, right? Her whole life revolved around you.” “How did you convince Vivian not to cling to you desperately? Teach us, man.” Before Ethan could speak. I answered frankly, “Fair distribution of assets.” Everyone looked embarrassed when I appeared. The birthday person quickly smoothed things over and called everyone to the table. I was quite comfortable. But Chloe kept looking at me. Her eyes full of provocation. Finally unable to hold back, she stood up. “Vivian, Ethan lost so much divorcing you, and I didn’t even complain. I just hope you won’t keep pestering Ethan. Let me drink first as a sign of respect.” She downed her glass. I ignored her. Chloe got unhappy. “Vivian, you’re divorced from Ethan. Don’t tell me you still have feelings for him?” “That’s enough.” Ethan called to Chloe. “Talk about this privately.” “No, I want her to promise in front of everyone that she’ll never bother us again.” Chloe acted coy. “I just want you to belong completely to me.” Her voice was soft and sweet. Ethan ate this up. He sighed. “Vivian, just give Chloe a promise to put her mind at ease.” I glanced at Ethan. I’d almost forgotten, but suddenly remembered—once when he was drunk, he knelt on the ground saying he’d love me forever, that if I wanted the stars, he’d pluck them from the sky for me. This scene now was truly jarring. I smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, I don’t take trash.” Ethan’s smiling face instantly turned cold. Chloe didn’t look much better either. I continued, “Let me correct you. When Ethan divorced me, he didn’t lose much. It was all what I deserved. Also, half of what Ethan spent on you was my money. Not making you pay it back is my mercy. You should be grateful, not push your luck.” “You!” Chloe’s face turned red with anger. Ethan protected her. “Vivian, even if you can’t accept divorcing me, there’s no need to make things hard for the girl.” “No hard feelings.” I enunciated each word. “Stop being stubborn. I know you can’t accept that I don’t love you anymore…” The door suddenly burst open. A familiar voice rang out. “Sorry, I’m late.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “398757”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My mom and dad, who revolved around my sister Barbara every single day, had no idea that I had another family—inside the mirror. When the three of them went on a trip for three days, they finally remembered they had me. But when Mom and Dad rushed home in a panic, they found me cleaned up and well-fed, looking healthy and plump. The guilt and alarm on Mom’s face gave way to sheer disbelief. “Somerville, have you been taking care of yourself these past few days?” I shook my head. “I’ve been staying inside the mirror these past few days. There’s a mom and dad in there who took care of me.” A flash of disbelief crossed their eyes, followed by thunderous rage: “You know Barbara has autism, and you’re lying just to compete with her for our attention?” All the exhaustion and suppression my parents had accumulated over the years poured out on me in that moment. I was locked in my room, and Mom warned me viciously through the door. “We’re already exhausted taking care of Barbara. This family can’t afford to raise two autistic children. If you lie again, you won’t be staying in this house anymore!” I curled up in the corner, crying so hard I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, a withered hand reached out from the mirror, gently stroking my head. “If they abandon you one more time, I’ll take you away.”

The moment the door was pushed open, the mom in the mirror crawled backward into the mirror. Mom stood quietly at the doorway, looking at me. “We’re having guests over later. Come out and help.” I followed closely behind Mom, taking the plastic plate from her hands. My eyes couldn’t help but land on the large cake in the center of the table. “Don’t just stand there. Hurry up and divide the cake.” Halfway through dividing the cake, I suddenly remembered—today was my birthday. So Mom and Dad still remembered my birthday after all. My nose tingled, and I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. I suddenly remembered that before Barbara got sick, Mom and Dad had been really good to me. When they took Barbara shopping at the mall, they would always bring me new clothes, instead of making me wear Barbara’s hand-me-downs that never fit properly. If I went away with the mom and dad in the mirror, would they be sad? The next moment, Mom clasped her hands together, her voice full of happiness, shattering my fantasy. “Barbara can finally call us Mom and Dad. Today is a day worth celebrating.” “When our relatives and friends arrive later, Barbara might even speak a few more words to other people.” I stood frozen in place, the corners of my mouth slowly drooping. The doorbell rang, and relatives flooded in. Barbara was surrounded in the center like a star. “Barbara, I heard you can speak now. I’m Uncle Dexter.” “I’m Aunt Bella. This is a gift for you.” Under everyone’s excited gaze, Barbara pressed her lips together, nervously clutching the hem of her dress, refusing to speak. Seeing the relatives’ enthusiasm waning, Dad quickly shot me a look, signaling me to help Barbara out of this situation. I squeezed into the middle of the relatives, sweetly greeting them one by one. “Let me serve you some cake.” While eating the cake, the relatives smiled and praised me: “Somerville has such a sweet mouth—so likable.” “If I had a daughter as articulate as Somerville, I’d laugh in my sleep.” Only Aunt Colleen had an indifferent expression, deliberately raising her voice. “Articulate? I think she’s clearly just competing for attention.” “She’s five or six years old. When my son was her age, he could recite Shakespeare’s poems backward. What’s so impressive about knowing how to greet people?” “She’s just showing off in front of someone with autism.” Mom’s expression darkened as well. She scolded me sternly, “Somerville! You always have the most to say. Barbara finally spoke, and you still have to steal the spotlight.” Dad’s smile faded as he shot me a cold glance. “Put away those petty thoughts of yours. Stop trying to get attention this way.” Seeing me keep my head down in silence, Dexter asked with a half-smile: “Somerville, tell me—who taught you to compete for attention at such a young age?”

I pursed my lips, my eyes reddening as I instinctively looked toward Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad’s eyes flickered for a moment, as if they’d just remembered what they’d demanded of me. Ever since Barbara’s autism got worse, Mom and Dad had been forcing me to talk more in front of Barbara every single day. Each time, I’d talk until my voice went hoarse, but Barbara would still show no response. Mom would sob, clutching her chest, venting all her frustration on me. “Talk more in front of Barbara! Talk! Hurry up and talk!” “What’s the point of having a mouth if you don’t use it? Mouths are for talking, aren’t they?” “But you? You don’t think about Barbara at all. All you do is make her angry.” But Barbara’s “kindness” to me was secretly stuffing candy in my mouth when she knew I couldn’t eat sugar. I was only three back then. All my teeth rotted, and the pain kept me awake every night. In the end, not only were all my baby teeth pulled out, but I also got scolded by Mom and Dad. Dad would often say to me sternly, “Somerville, the therapist said someone in the family needs to guide Barbara to speak and give her positive feedback.” “You have both the responsibility and the obligation to help Barbara and set a good example for her.” But I’ve already been trying so hard to guide Barbara. Why are Mom and Dad still not satisfied? Just as I faced the relatives’ interrogation, clutching my hands and not knowing how to answer, Dad handed me a plate of strawberries. “Go eat your strawberries somewhere else. Talk less.” I took the strawberries, but Barbara suddenly snatched them away, raised her hand and smashed them on the floor, then opened her mouth to let out a piercing scream. Mom and Dad’s faces went pale. Barbara’s autism was acting up again. Mom, with reddened eyes, poked my forehead with her finger and scolded: “Somerville, why are you so greedy? Barbara hasn’t eaten yet—why are you eating first?” “You know Barbara lacks a sense of security. Everything in this house should prioritize Barbara. Barbara comes first.” Looking down at the smashed strawberries on the floor, a bitter taste rose in my throat. I squatted down and picked up the strawberries from the floor one by one, placing them on the plate, my lips mumbling, “I know I was wrong. I don’t want the strawberries anymore.” “I’ll let Barbara have all the strawberries.” Seeing how obedient I was, Uncle Torres frowned curiously and asked, “Why has Somerville become so well-behaved? I remember when you were three, you were so protective of your food. Once something was in your hands, no one could take it away.” Hearing Torres’s words of concern, a warmth rose in my heart, and my inner thoughts spilled out without defense: “Because the mom in the mirror already gave me strawberries to eat…” Meeting Mom and Dad’s icy stares, I realized I’d said the wrong thing. I quickly covered my mouth with my small hands and shook my head, indicating I hadn’t said anything. Colleen didn’t believe I’d really become obedient. A cold smile curved her lips. “Somerville sure knows how to act!” “Deliberately pretending to be pitiful to gain sympathy, and even lying about having a mom in the mirror. Why don’t you just say you’re going to live in the mirror?” Hearing Colleen’s words, I froze. How did Colleen know that the mom in the mirror wanted to take me away? Mom caught the panic in my eyes and trembled with anger. “Somerville, didn’t I teach you not to lie? Why are you spouting nonsense today?” “Hurry up and tell everyone that the mom in the mirror is something you made up. It’s a lie.” I instinctively glanced at the mirror in my room. The mom in the mirror poked her head out, staring at me with hollow eyes, her mouth curving into an eerie arc. I timidly raised my head and stammered, “Mom, I’m not lying, and I’m not making things up…” There really was another mom in the mirror. But under Mom’s stern, pressuring gaze, I swallowed the rest of my words. Torres, who had grown up in a church, took my words seriously. He frowned and said to Mom: “I don’t think Somerville is lying. Maybe there really is something wrong with that mirror. How about I help you check the house?” After Torres took out his religious artifacts from his bag, Mom’s expression grew increasingly tense. Just as Torres was about to ask me some questions about the mirror, Barbara’s scream interrupted him.

Barbara picked up a shard of broken porcelain from the floor and slashed it across her wrist. Mom instantly panicked, hugging Barbara in distress and stopping her from continuing to harm herself. Dad looked at me with anguish, his eyes ice-cold. “Did you deliberately lie about having parents in the mirror to make Barbara feel guilty enough to cut her wrist?” “We’ve been so good to you. How can you be so vicious and come up with such twisted ideas?” I shook my head violently, tears blurring my vision. “Dad, I’m not lying…” But Dad wouldn’t listen to my explanation. He said goodbye to the relatives and drove Barbara to the hospital. After the relatives left, I was the only one standing there in a daze. I’d already tried my best. Why wouldn’t Mom and Dad believe me? Barbara’s wrist wound wasn’t deep, so there was nothing serious. But Mom and Dad still took turns staying by her side, afraid something else might happen to her. I could only see them when they came home to cook for Barbara. But whenever I got close, Mom and Dad would unconsciously push me away, distancing themselves from me. “Somerville, stop hovering around us.” “You’ve already driven Barbara to cut her wrist. Do you have to see Barbara die before you’re satisfied?” I shook my head, looking completely wronged. “Mom, I don’t know why Barbara cut her wrist either, but I really didn’t want to see Barbara die.” Even when Barbara had emotional breakdowns and scalded me with hot water from her cup, or cut my bangs with scissors, I never resented her. After all, Barbara got sick because of me. If I, the second child, didn’t exist, Barbara wouldn’t have gotten sick. And Mom and Dad wouldn’t have to frown all day long. But hearing Mom say these things still made my heart ache. Two days later, Barbara was discharged and came home. After coming home, Barbara was much more active than before. Besides calling out “Mom” and “Dad,” she could also speak some simple sentences. According to Mom, it was when she cried like a mess that Barbara felt sorry for her and started speaking. But I’d been trying to guide Barbara to speak for years, and she never responded. Why did Barbara start talking as soon as Mom cried? Holding the doll the mom in the mirror had given me, I quietly pushed open Barbara’s door. But I saw Mom and Dad sitting at Barbara’s bedside, gently coaxing her: “Barbara, from now on, just rest and recover at home. No matter how much Somerville tries to compete with you for our attention, Mom will only love you.” “Dad feels the same way. That’s why we’ve been deliberately ignoring Somerville these past few days to teach her a lesson.” Barbara’s eyes reddened as she slowly spoke, “Don’t… blame Somerville. She’s still young.” “If only I didn’t exist…” Hearing Barbara say this made Mom and Dad both angry and distressed. Dad put his arm around Barbara’s shoulder and gently promised, “Silly child, don’t talk nonsense. You’ll always be Mom and Dad’s precious treasure.” “Somerville has complicated thoughts. We’re planning to send her to Colleen’s house for discipline for a while. Once you’re better, we’ll bring her back home.” The doll in my hand slipped and fell to the floor.

A flash of panic crossed Mom and Dad’s faces at being caught. Seeing me remain silent, Dad simply decided to come clean. “Since you’ve already heard, your mom and I won’t hide it from you anymore.” “Colleen called yesterday and kept nagging us to send you over for education for a while.” My body felt heavy, like it was filled with lead. With tears in my eyes, I looked up and met Mom and Dad’s gaze: “Mom, Dad, just because Barbara is sick, are you going to pretend you don’t love me and completely abandon me?” Dad turned his head away, unwilling to look at me. Mom snorted impatiently: “Didn’t you insist there are parents in the mirror who love you more than us? Then just take the mirror and go live at Colleen’s house.” After Mom finished speaking, she kicked me out of Barbara’s room and slammed the door shut. I listened to the laughter coming from inside the room, a dull pain spreading through my chest. Perhaps they were the happy family of three, and I was just the unwanted outsider. I silently returned to my room. The mom in the mirror had already prepared a fragrant lunch waiting for me. She unfolded her withered, shriveled body and smiled at me: “Come eat. After you eat, come with Mom. Your dad is still waiting for you inside the mirror.” I nodded with vacant eyes, obediently eating the meal the mom in the mirror had made. Halfway through the meal, my tears couldn’t be held back anymore and fell in large drops onto my rice. I sobbed quietly and asked the mom in the mirror, “Before I go, can I say goodbye to Mom and Dad?” The mom in the mirror grinned eerily. “Be quick. I’m about to take you away.” I wiped my tears, picked up the pen on the table and wrote a farewell letter to Mom and Dad, then ran to them and hugged them. “Mom, Dad, goodbye!” Mom looked at the letter and threw it in the trash like garbage. Dad’s face was tense. “Don’t think that by retreating, we’ll compromise and not send you away.” “Colleen will be here in 5 minutes. Go pack your things.” I nodded heavily. Although I was already prepared to leave, my heart still ached faintly. I returned to my room without taking anything, just sitting on the bed in a daze, looking at this home where I’d lived for six years. It suddenly felt so unfamiliar. At least in the mirror, there were parents who loved me, and there was no Barbara who disliked me. Living with Mom and Dad in the mirror should be happier than now, right? The next second, Colleen arrived at my bedroom door and shouted: “This door won’t open. Somerville must have locked it.” Mom and Dad outside the door knocked frantically, cursing: “Somerville, you’ve really gotten bold. Now you even dare to lock the door.” “Colleen is here to pick you up. Open the door right now!” “Even if we have to tie you up today, we’ll drag you out and fix your bad habits!” Seeing that I wouldn’t open the door no matter how much they scolded, Mom and Dad got furious and kicked the door open. At that moment, I was standing obediently in front of the mirror, waving goodbye to them one last time. Mom and Dad’s faces turned ashen as they glared at me, about to step forward and discipline me. The next moment, a pair of withered hands reached out from the mirror behind me. Mom and Dad’s faces instantly went pale. In panic, they shouted at me, “Somerville, come here quickly!” But I turned around and threw myself into that embrace without hesitation.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “398756”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I transmigrated into the body of a little girl who was beaten to death by domestic violence. The moment I opened my eyes, a fist came flying at me. I smiled. I am a female Muay Thai champion, a terminator of domestic violence, specialized in dealing with all kinds of troublemakers! I transmigrated just as I had won my sixth world championship. With this, I had achieved the Grand Slam in Muay Thai. I couldn’t help but shed tears of joy. Right at that moment, a piercing pain shot through my right leg—in the final round of the match, my opponent’s fierce roundhouse kick had struck my shin. I smiled bitterly. The bone was probably fractured. Injuries were nothing new to me. I endured the pain and still faced the reporters’ cameras with a smile. ” Lily Smith, please tell us how you’re feeling right now,” a reporter asked. I steadied myself and said, “I want to thank my coach for all his hard work in training me.” “What about your family? Don’t you want to say anything to them?” the reporter pressed. Family…? I froze for a moment. My mind went blank. I suddenly realized I had no memory of my family at all. Then a flash of white light appeared, like a camera flash going off. I instinctively closed my eyes for a split second. When I opened them again, I found myself in a dark, dilapidated little room. The flowers, applause, and surrounding reporters had all vanished. Only the pain in my right leg remained, reminding me this was no dream. I looked down. These were the legs of a little girl. Slender and frail. The right leg was twisted at an odd angle. The slightest movement brought another wave of pain. The shin was broken, but someone had given it a crude bandage. Whoever had treated the injured leg was clearly an amateur. They hadn’t even set the bone properly. I unwrapped the bandage, reset the bone, and rewrapped it. Since I was often injured, I naturally had some knowledge of treating external wounds. “Lily, are you awake?” Just then, a woman’s voice quietly called into the room from outside the window.

I had just finished setting my injured leg and didn’t want to move, so I answered weakly, “Just woke up.” The woman hurriedly said, “You must be hungry. I brought you some food. Eat quickly.” The door opened, and a thin, frail woman entered carrying some cornbread and wild fruit. It seemed this woman was the little girl’s mother. She extended the food toward me and said, “Lily, does your leg still hurt? Eat quickly. You need to eat well to recover from your injury.” Suddenly, a shrill voice rang out from outside: “Lily’s mom! I told you to feed the chickens, where did you go? Always slacking off! Even the chickens are more useful than you! At least they lay eggs—you don’t!” Lily’s mother quickly responded, “Mom, I already fed the chickens. I came to bring Lily her meal.” The shrill voice grew closer: “My son must have had terrible luck to marry you! A money-loser gave birth to another money-loser, eating the Smith family’s food for nothing all these years!” This sounded like the little girl’s grandmother. The grandmother’s words were full of disgust toward the mother and daughter. Their lives must be difficult. Lily’s mother looked at my injured leg. After much hesitation, she finally gathered the courage to say, “Mom, Lily’s leg was broken. We need to get the village doctor to look at it.” Mrs. Smith outside the window nearly shrieked when she heard this: “A doctor costs money! If you ask me, if she dies, she dies! One less mouth to feed!” I frowned. This little girl must have been beaten, which is why her leg was broken. Why was the little girl beaten, and who beat her? The most important thing now was to figure out what exactly happened. I heard Mrs. Smith continue: “Stop talking nonsense and come help me right now. The matchmaker is coming today!” Lily’s mother quickly set down the food and went out.

I don’t know how much time passed before I heard arguing outside the door. “Lily’s father, you can’t keep beating her! You’ll kill the child.” This was Lily’s mother’s voice. An angry man’s voice: “Don’t try to stop me. She was lucky I didn’t kill her yesterday.” “She wants to go to town so badly? Today I’ll break her other leg too! If she’s so capable, let her crawl there!” The two people arguing outside were clearly the little girl’s parents. I hadn’t expected that the person who broke the little girl’s leg was actually her father. Anger rose in my heart. This father, taking advantage of being an adult man, actually beat an underage little girl this way. The door burst open with a bang. A man appeared in the doorway. He was of medium build, holding a wooden stick, his face full of violence. Behind the man stood Lily’s mother. Her thin wrists tightly gripped one end of the stick in the man’s hand, trying to stop him. The man slapped her face. A crisp smack rang out, and Lily’s mother stumbled, nearly falling. Even so, her hands still desperately gripped the stick, refusing to let go. Because Lily’s mother was holding the stick, the man couldn’t move freely. Seeing that one slap hadn’t made Lily’s mother let go, he grew impatient and kicked her in the stomach. Alarmed, I quickly grabbed the cornbread bun beside me and threw it at his head and face. The bun was quite hard. It hit the man’s face with a dull thud and broke apart, falling to the ground. Cornmeal crumbs got in his eyes. He reached up to rub his eyes, and Lily’s mother snatched the stick away. “You damn girl, how dare you throw things at me! I see you still haven’t given up on going to town to study!” The man no longer paid attention to Lily’s mother. He roared and charged at me. Lily’s mother quickly abandoned the stick and wrapped her arms around the man’s waist, pulling him back while crying out: “Lily, quickly apologize to your father! Say you won’t go to school anymore!” I suddenly understood. This little girl, Lily—she wanted to go to town to study, but her father wouldn’t let her, so she was beaten.

Before I could speak, an old woman picked up the stick from the ground and quickly threw it into the yard. This old woman had entered the room behind the arguing parents. Because she was short, I hadn’t noticed her at first. After throwing the stick, she even kicked it. The stick rolled far away. With her sharp, slanted eyes, she said to the man in a shrill voice: ” John, the matchmaker just came by. A girl with a crippled leg won’t fetch a high wedding gift!” The man froze when he heard this and stopped. He asked the old woman, “Mom, Matchmaker Mrs. Brown came by?” So this harsh-looking old woman was the little girl’s grandmother. Mrs. Smith nodded and said, “A wedding gift for a girl with one crippled leg has to be cut in half. If you break both her legs, she’ll be paralyzed, and the wedding gift will drop even more.” John Smith said angrily, “Why cut it in half? Is that Mrs. Brown trying to cheat us? Her leg is crippled, but she can still walk and work!” As he said this, John Smith withdrew his hand. Seeing he wasn’t going to hit me anymore, Lily’s mother slowly let go. I suddenly understood this little girl’s situation. So I coldly interjected: “My leg isn’t permanently crippled. It can heal. Three months—just three months and my leg will be good as new. Then you can ask Mrs. Brown for the highest wedding gift!” Mrs. Smith’s eyes lit up: “Lily’s leg can heal? If it heals completely, we’ll have a perfectly intact virgin girl! Mrs. Brown won’t be able to lowball us then!” John Smith sneered. He understood he couldn’t beat me. If my leg didn’t heal properly, it would affect the wedding gift he could collect. But he seemed unwilling to just let this go. He turned and saw Lily’s mother standing to the side. He directly slapped her again, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her out of the room.

I saw this and struggled to get up to stop him, but Mrs. Smith pressed me down, saying, “Lily, lie still and don’t move. Take good care of your leg!” She pursed her lips and said, “That’s between your father and mother. Stay out of it.” I moved my right leg slightly. Based on my experience, this leg injury could indeed heal in three months. After three months when my leg healed, I needed to get out of here quickly. While secretly making this resolution, I also worried about Lily’s mother and pricked up my ears to carefully listen to what was happening outside. I heard John Smith drag Lily’s mother all the way to the next room. The door slammed shut with a bang. Sounds of punching and kicking came from next door, occasionally mixed with Lily’s mother’s cries and screams. Then came the sound of clothes tearing and a belt whipping. When John Smith’s heavy breathing gradually intensified and Lily’s mother’s screams turned into soft whimpers, Mrs. Smith clicked her tongue twice, spat, and left with a red face. I gradually clenched my fists. John Smith not only committed domestic violence, he was also a sexual abuser! Over the following days, John Smith would beat Lily’s mother every few days. And no matter how brutally Lily’s mother had been tortured the night before, she would unfailingly come bring me food the next day. I begged her to get me some protein to help with my recovery, and she brought me some roasted bird eggs. I asked, “Doesn’t the family raise chickens? Why do we need to get wild bird eggs?” Lily’s mother sighed: “Your grandmother counts every chicken egg. She saves them to sell at the market.” This Mrs. Smith was really cruel and stingy. Lily’s mother watched me happily eating the roasted bird eggs and said, “Thank goodness for Tommy, bringing you bird eggs. Next month Tommy is going to town, so you won’t have these good things to eat anymore.” After saying this, she seemed to have misspoken and looked regretful. “Tommy?” I asked. Lily’s mother quickly comforted me: “I know you also want to go to town with Tommy to study middle school. But which girl in our village doesn’t stop studying after elementary school? Look at Emily—she also stayed home to work after elementary school graduation.” By this calculation, Lily had only graduated from elementary school, probably around 13 or 14 years old. At this age, her father and grandmother were already planning to marry her off. What bastards!

This day, Lily’s mother didn’t come to bring food. Instead, a little boy and a little girl came. The little boy looked sturdy and energetic, wearing a hoodie and sneakers, covered in dirt from head to toe. He held a bundle of bird eggs and said proudly, “Lily, I raided three bird nests! Look, there are over a dozen eggs here!” The little girl wore a floral print jacket with patches on the knees and shoes. Though not dressed as well as the little boy, she was neat and tidy. She blinked her eyes and said, “Lily, your mother said she went to cut pig feed, so she asked us to bring you food.” As she spoke, she took out two cornbread and handed them to me. “Tommy? Emily?” I called out tentatively. Emily nodded. Tommy said, “What’s wrong? Did your dad beat your head stupid?” He stood up to examine my head. “You’ve always been better at studying than me. It would be such a waste if your dad beat you into an idiot!” As he spoke, he ruffled through my hair. “Bah! Bah!” Emily pushed him away and scolded him: “Don’t talk nonsense! How could Lily become an idiot!” Tommy asked me, “Lily, are you really not going to town to study middle school?” “I heard the teacher say that middle school, just like elementary school, is required by law. Not letting you attend is illegal,” he said confidently. Emily sighed: “But all the girls in our village only go to elementary school.” Tommy fell silent. After a while, he asked me again: “Lily, don’t you want to ask your dad again? You’re good at stud Emily. It would be a shame not to go to school.” I shook my head. I didn’t need to ask to know that no matter how good my grades were, John Smith would never agree. I ate five or six of the bird eggs Tommy brought and hid the rest to give to Lily’s mother. In a daze, I heard a woman crying out. It was Lily’s mother!

I quickly listened carefully to identify the sounds. Mixed in with Lily’s mother’s cries and pleas for mercy were a man’s curses and beatings. It was John Smith. Occasionally there were also a few sounds from Mrs. Smith. Her voice was thin and shrill, actually the clearest to hear: “You should teach this lazy daughter-in-law a good lesson! At my age, I still have to go up the mountain to cut pig feed! These old bones of mine nearly fell apart!” Hadn’t Lily’s mother gone to cut pig feed today? It was because she went to cut pig feed that she asked Emily and Tommy to bring me food. This old hag was distorting the truth and sowing discord! John Smith seemed even angrier. While cursing, he continued beating Lily’s mother: “You dare lie? It was clearly Mom who cut the pig feed!” “You shameless woman needs to be stripped naked, hung up, and whipped hard with a belt!” Rage surged within me, and I was about to rush out to save Lily’s mother. As soon as I moved, I nearly fell from the bed to the floor. The leg injury had been healing for almost two months. Although the injury was recovering well, the leg muscles were weak and I still couldn’t move flexibly. This body was far inferior to my previous one. I sighed and secretly resolved that starting tomorrow, I must exercise my muscles properly. Otherwise, even if the leg healed, without muscles and strength, it would be useless. Lily’s mother’s voice gradually grew quieter. She must have passed out. Finally John Smith stopped. But his conversation with his mother made my heart rise to my throat again. I heard him say to Mrs. Smith: “Mom, if you don’t like this woman, we can just send her back to her parents’ home. Why do we have to beat her to death?” Mrs. Smith said, “You foolish child, if we send her back to her parents’ home, what if her brothers come demanding the dowry back! She brought a cow as dowry when she married in!” So Mrs. Smith and her son were planning to beat Lily’s mother to death. I looked down at my right leg, my face turning cold.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “398755”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I Was Reincarnated as a She-Wolf. When the Alpha Howled His Commands, I Barely Managed a Half-Hearted Yip. Because of my epic laziness, I was exiled from the pack. Starving and dizzy, I finally stumbled upon a human trail. Throwing away my wolf pride, I rolled onto my back and shamelessly begged the humans for food. Sustained by Twinkies and hotdogs, I even grew a glossy, luxurious winter coat. The Alpha ran hundreds of miles to find me, only to see my pathetic display. His hackles raised as he roared: “I just have one question—why is your tail wagging so high?!” 1 Every time I ovulate, I revert back to a human girl. I always find a hidden spot to secretly get through it. Unfortunately, the old Alpha caught a whiff of my overwhelming scent and found me. Ahhh! Wake up, buddy! We have a biological barrier here! I practically tumbled over myself scrambling up a tree, barely escaping by the skin of my teeth. After that, the old Alpha lost a duel to a low-ranking wolf named Shadow and was exiled from the pack. Shadow killed the old Alpha’s pups and took his place. I hadn’t even woken up yet when Shadow stood on the mountain peak and started howling. From all directions, the pack howled back, their voices ringing out in a unified, deafening chorus. It’s way too early for this! Let a wolf sleep, will you?! I lifted a paw, covered my ear, and tried to go back to sleep. “Why aren’t you howling? Watch out, the Alpha will come beat you up,” the wolf next to me kindly warned. I’ve literally reincarnated as an animal, and I still can’t just lie flat? I hate this! I hate hustle culture! Without even bothering to open my eyes, I gave a half-hearted, weak a-woo. “You’re so brave. Do you know how terrifying Shadow is?” Isn’t it just a story of a try-hard who grinded his way to the top and became Alpha? What’s so terrifying about that? Suddenly, a thunderous sound approached, accompanied by an incredibly oppressive wave of testosterone. I jolted awake, scrambled to my feet, and ran to the edge of the hill to look. I saw Shadow looking furious, leading a massive swarm of wolves straight toward me. Dust and dirt kicked up everywhere they went. I was so terrified my fur instantly spiked up like a sawblade. He’s not here to beat me up; he’s here to kill me! Without looking back, I bolted, running for my life. Panting and wheezing, I ran over a hundred and fifty miles without stopping, finally making it out of the primeval forest. Running all night left me parched and starving. I found a river to drink from, but a massive water buffalo suddenly burst out of the water. I was so scared I didn’t even dare to drink. I turned and ran for my life again. So hungry… so hungry… I stumbled and swayed before just collapsing on the ground and falling asleep. Ugh… if I’m asleep, I won’t feel hungry. Half-asleep, I felt something fuzzy brushing against my nose. I opened my eyes halfway. There was a rabbit right in front of me. “Ah-woo.” I opened my mouth but couldn’t bring myself to bite down. It’s an old rabbit. The meat will be too tough. Hard pass. In the middle of the night, I mustered up my courage and crept back to the river, belly to the ground. While the water buffalo was sleeping, I quickly snatched a fish and bolted. 2 In the bushes, a pair of golden wolf eyes moved slowly, looking exceptionally cold and terrifying in the moonlight. I perked my ears up, staring at him warily. He stepped out of the bushes. He was a young male wolf, nearly six and a half feet long. His fur was sleek and shiny, his muscles lean and defined, but what stood out most were those chilling, terrifying golden pupils. My breath hitched. “Who are you? What do you want?” I backed up step by step, staying on high alert. If he dares to pounce, I’ll… I’ll run! “Why aren’t you with your pack?” He just stopped in front of me, not moving any closer. This wolf radiated an incredibly dangerous aura. I felt like I had smelled this scent somewhere before, but I couldn’t quite place it. Whatever, too lazy to think about it. Maybe all male wolves smell this gross. I knew that in the brutal animal kingdom, being a lone wolf was incredibly dangerous. But… “I was being hunted by the Alpha! Wouldn’t you run?” He looked surprised. “Why did you think he wanted to kill you?” “He’s a petty wolf!” So what if my howl was a little half-hearted? He actually brought the whole pack to hunt me down over it! “You’re too weak. If you don’t stay with a pack, you’ll die.” When he called me weak, he wasn’t just talking about my combat skills. I was less than four feet long, and I was a white wolf. Snow-white fur provides zero camouflage in the wild, making me an easy target for predators. “Are you weak too? Why aren’t you with a pack?” He didn’t look like a weak wolf to me. He was silent for a moment. “Yeah. Pretty much the same as you.” Ah, so he just looks intimidating, but he’s actually a rejected, weak wolf just like me. Feeling a sense of camaraderie, I didn’t chase him away. Instead, I made a spot for him to sleep. He asked me, “What’s your name?” “Maya.” That was my human name. “What about you? What’s yours?” “I’m… Nolan.” The deep wilderness was so quiet you could only hear the wind. I slept until the sun was high in the sky. I yawned, lazily propping myself up to look at Nolan. I didn’t expect him to be even lazier than me. A mosquito landed on his ear, and he just twitched it without even opening his eyes. With my ears flattened, I kept my head low and crawled forward. Strangely, I didn’t see the water buffalo from yesterday. I carefully sniffed around and caught a super intense scent of blood. Following the smell, I found the water buffalo dead by the river, covered in blood. Flies were buzzing all over it. Looking at the bite marks, this giant beast had clearly been killed by a wolf. Huh? Is there some badass… I mean, badass wolf nearby? “Why aren’t you eating?” Nolan suddenly appeared behind me. “The meat is too tough, the skin is too thick, and flies are shitting on it. I’m passing.” He didn’t expect a wolf to be this picky, refusing to eat this and that even when starving to death. With the water buffalo gone, I splashed around in the river, catching fish. I also rolled around in the water to wash my snow-white fur. And… the strong female scent— It was almost time for me to revert back to a human girl. Meanwhile, the lazy wolf Nolan laid on a rock, resting his chin on his paws, watching me lazily through half-closed eyes. “A herd of elephants is going to pass through here soon. We need to leave,” he said. “I don’t want to.” I finally found a place with food and water. I haven’t even started my lazy wolf life yet. “Do you want to get flattened by an elephant?” 3 Cherish your wolf life; stay away from elephant herds. I ended up following Nolan. Crossing the plains, we entered a jungle. My keen senses picked up the scent of a wolf pack. Overjoyed, I followed the scent. Under a tree, a scrawny male wolf was gnawing on a piece of rotting meat. The meat was foul and filthy; I wouldn’t eat it even if I were starving. I suppressed my disgust and walked over. “Hi there, can I meet your Alpha?” If I’m lucky and meet a generous Alpha, I can start my lazy life of mooching off the pack. The skinny wolf saw me and gave a wicked grin. “Sure, follow me.” I didn’t think much of it and followed him. After a few steps, he suddenly spun around and pounced on me, pinning me down. “Ahhhh! What are you doing?!” My brain short-circuited. I instinctively fought with everything I had to escape. But he was too strong. Pinned beneath him, I couldn’t break free. When I realized what he was trying to do, my mind went blank. I just curled my tail tightly over my butt. Even though he was skinny, male wolves have an absolute advantage over females in both size and strength. Just when I was exhausted and hopelessly thought my butt was doomed, the weight on me suddenly vanished. Nolan was tangled in a vicious fight with the skinny wolf. Without daring to look back, I seized the chance and ran for my life. I sprinted across a gravel bank, through a meadow, and finally stopped at a watering hole, panting heavily. I laid by the river, took a few gulps of water, and then heard Nolan’s howl: “A-woo—” I heard that kind of howl often. It was the howl of victory. Even though my heart was still pounding, I remembered Nolan had just saved my butt, so I headed back. When I returned, the scene before me was shocking. The skinny wolf’s neck was snapped; he was lying dead on the ground with his mouth open. Nolan had his paw on another wolf, who appeared to be the pack’s Alpha. The Alpha was barely clinging to life, panting heavily, his belly heaving. The rest of the pack watched in stunned silence. None dared to challenge this outsider male wolf. Nolan saw me, released the Alpha, and slowly walked toward me under the pack’s watchful eyes. I was so terrified I gulped. I didn’t expect this lazy wolf to be such a badass! He narrowed his eyes at me. “What, are you scared of me?” I shook my head, then nodded, suddenly too tongue-tied to speak. 4 I really couldn’t figure out what this big boss wanted. Wherever I went, he followed. While I was still trying to catch fish and rabbits, he had already hunted down several water buffaloes and wildebeests. A familiar, strange sensation surged through my body. I knew it was time for me to revert back to a human girl. To keep Nolan from discovering my secret, I sneaked away while he was sleeping. I needed to find a safe, hidden spot before I transformed. Finally, over three hundred miles away, I found a cave. The entrance was hidden by vegetation, and there were plenty of decaying leaves to mask my scent. To avoid starving, I gathered some wild berries and brought them back to the cave. Exhausted, I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was a human girl again. Unfortunately, I underestimated the temperature drop in this forest. The sun was warm during the day, but at night, it felt like an icebox. I had no clothes and didn’t dare go outside, so I curled into a ball to keep from freezing to death. So warm… so soft… What is this? I slowly opened my eyes, only to meet a pair of golden wolf eyes! My breath caught in my throat. I stammered, “No… Nolan?” I had no idea how he found me. He was lying completely on top of me, but he wasn’t doing anything inappropriate. Was he going to eat me, or was he just using his fur to keep me warm? “Wh-what are you doing?” My voice couldn’t stop shaking. “Keeping you from freezing to death.” I let out a sigh of relief. “How did you find me?” “Your scent is very strong,” he said. “You’re in heat.” “No! Don’t make it sound so gross!” I couldn’t help raising my voice. “Human women go through this every month. It’s nothing special!” “You go into heat every month?” He sounded surprised. “It’s not heat! It’s a normal biological function!” I tried to correct him. But he ignored me, resting his head on me, closed his eyes, and went to sleep. Even though this wolf was fierce, I was sure he meant me no harm. Thanks to his fur keeping me warm, I safely made it through my “special time.” When I turned back into a wolf, I felt a deep sense of loss. I’m human. I’m a human…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “446013”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

He plays basketball. I post: [SHOCKER! Best Actor caught in a steamy tangle with multiple men!] He eats street food at midnight. I post: [EXPOSED! You won’t believe what the Oscar-winner is doing on the streets at night!] Stalking him late at night, the Best Actor finally snaps, grabs my wrist, and roars, “How much longer are you going to keep this up?!” The billionaire prince of Manhattan punches him square in the jaw: “Get your hands off my wife!” The Best Actor whips out a marriage certificate and sneers, “Look closely. Whose wife do you think she really is?” I instantly get thrilled! Oh my god, having amnesia is amazing! I get to have two husbands! 1 [EXPOSED! You won’t believe what the Oscar-winner is doing on the streets at night!] My latest post on X hits over a million views, likes, and retweets in less than an hour. The Best Actor’s fandom wakes up in the middle of the night just to drag me in the comments. [Ugh! Another massive clickbait load of garbage!] [If she’s so brave, why doesn’t she catch something real for once?!] [Trash paparazzi trash! What is the actual truth?!] Their hate drives me straight to the global trending page. On the trending board, my name is intimately tucked right next to his. #TrashPaparazzi ChloeBrooks# At 2:00 AM, Ethan Vance was sitting at a sketchy late-night food truck, wearing a black hoodie and a low-brimmed baseball cap. He was casually perched on a plastic stool, holding a cheap street corn dog. I even attached eighteen high-res photos, each one making the Best Actor look drop-dead gorgeous. The fans can curse me all they want, but they never fail to praise my photography skills. For the past year, every single masterpiece photo of the Best Actor has come from my lens. [Strangely, this awful paparazzi always captures a completely different side of Ethan.] [I know, right? She somehow brings out that lonely, melancholic vibe of his.] [Honestly… it almost feels like my husband is posing for her.] [The comment above, are you insane?] I look at the comments with supreme satisfaction. These tsundere little angels always click on my sponsored links right after trashing me. After all, I’ve never actually ruined Ethan’s reputation; if anything, I’ve gifted them endless wallpaper-worthy shots. My income is skyrocketing, making me shoot even more enthusiastically. Suddenly, someone knocks on my car window. I look up. Ethan Vance is standing outside, holding a half-eaten corn dog. Through the one-way tint, he can’t see me, but I can see him perfectly. [SOS! Save me right now!] I shrink back into my seat, frantically texting my childhood friend, Weston Sterling. [Ethan found me!] 2 Sitting in the police precinct at midnight, I am completely numb. Weston actually punched Ethan! Ethan has a nasty bruise on his jaw. He sits on the bench, face cold as ice, lost in thought. Weston squeezes my hand, his voice low: “I messed up big time.” Well, I can’t entirely blame him for being reckless. He had just gone to grab me some late-night takeout, and when he walked back, he saw a strange man pounding on my car window. He thought Ethan was some kind of creep and immediately threw a punch. “You’re the billionaire prince of Manhattan, who are you afraid of?” I tease him to lighten the mood. Hearing this, Weston’s face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance, and he reaches out to pinch my cheek. He hates that title more than anything. He thinks it sounds incredibly cringe and ridiculous. I swat his hand away, looking at the scrape on his knuckles. “Does your hand hurt?” Weston instantly stops fooling around. He lets out a prideful huff, turning his head away. Ethan’s manager rushes into the station. The moment he sees Ethan’s face, he blows a fuse. “You’re that trash paparazzi, aren’t you?!” “Ethan is supposed to be on set tomorrow! Can you even afford the breach of contract fees?!” He points his finger right at me, screaming, “Rats like you belong in the gutter, or locked up in a cell to learn some manners!” Spit flies from his mouth, nearly hitting my face as he curses. He gets more and more aggressive, poking his finger dangerously close to my nose. I’m not a coward. Normally, I would have broken his nose by now. But looking at his furious face, a sudden, suffocating weight crashes onto my chest. My head feels like it’s about to split open. Tears stream down my face uncontrollably. In a daze, I hear another voice echoing in my mind, screaming at me: “Are you trying to ruin him?!” “Fine! Go find him right now! Let the whole world know about your pathetic relationship!” “What makes you think you’re good enough for him? What right do you have to question him?!” The sheer agony suffocates me. Everything goes black, and I faint. The last thing I hear is Weston’s roaring fury: “If anything happens to her, I will personally destroy every single one of you!” 3 After my little blackout at the precinct, Weston locked me up in a private hospital suite for two weeks to recover. While he’s fast asleep, I sneak into the bathroom to play mobile games. I get so into it that I start trash-talking out loud. “See that? Showing off in front of my squad? You’re all dead meat!” “When the pro steps in, it’s game over.” A clean Penta-kill. Absolutely legendary. Just as I’m about to queue up for another match, my teammate hits me up on Discord voice chat. “It’s three in the morning. Why aren’t you asleep?” I sigh in frustration. “Don’t even get me started. I’m basically under house arrest.” “Ugh, last month I ran into some psycho who screamed at me until I fainted.” “I told you before, I have amnesia. My brain can’t handle extreme stress.” “My boyfriend keeps forcing me to do all these medical exams. It’s so annoying.” My teammate inquires: “How did the tests go?” I reply while browsing through the in-game store to buy a new skin. “All clear. The doctor said it was just a severe trauma response.” Speaking of trauma responses, I’m honestly speechless. My mom always says my personality is so bright and sunny that if the sun ever exploded, you could hang me up in space and I’d warm the entire planet. Yet, I literally fainted just from being pointed at and yelled at. It actually makes me curious. What on earth happened during those three missing years of my life? Weston said when he found me two years ago, I looked like a wandering ghost. It scared him to death. Two years have passed, and I haven’t recovered a single memory. “Hey, why are you awake in the middle of the night anyway?” I ask, gifting my teammate a few expensive skins. When I first woke up with amnesia, I was incredibly bored. I met this teammate in an online lobby, and he’s been carrying me ever since. He always seemed pretty broke, grinding late-night shifts, so I basically sponsored all his in-game cosmetics. “Playing games with some random guy at three in the morning, huh?” Weston’s voice suddenly rings out. He’s leaning against the doorframe, shirtless, wearing black shorts. His stunning eyes are burning with pure jealousy. He looks like he wants to break my legs. Feeling guilty, I stubbornly snap back, “That’s what you get for locking me up! I have too much energy and nowhere to expend it!” Weston scoffs. “Too much energy? Chloe, I think you’re just begging for trouble.” He walks over, scoops me up by the waist, and hoists me onto the marble sink. The cold surface makes me shriek, and I instantly wrap my legs around him. Weston holds my thighs, pinning me against the wall. “Cold, cold, cold!” I yell, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. Weston seals my lips, murmuring against them, “Don’t worry. You’ll warm up in a second.” The next day, I sleep until noon. I’m woken up by a barrage of phone notifications. I’m trending on X again. Wait, what is this hashtag? #MissYouTrashPaparazzi# What kind of twisted joke is this? How are these little devils mocking me now? I click on it, only to find out that Ethan Vance’s secret relationship has been leaked! But the gossip is super vague, and the leaked photos are incredibly blurry. His fans are frantically tagging me. [What kind of ancient flip-phone took these blurry photos?!] [Ugh, I actually miss our trash paparazzi.] [Every photo she takes is so high-def it feels like she’s hiding under my king’s bed.] [Trash paparazzi, come back! We promise to flame you less next time.] [Trash paparazzi, go investigate! Is Ethan really dating someone?!] I rub my hands together in excitement and immediately tweet out: [Hold on tight, babies! Mommy’s on it!] The fans always complain that I only post fake clickbait! This time, I’m definitely going to get them the real deal! Ethan’s relationship scoop has to come from me! Nationwide delivery! When it comes to pampering my anti-fans, I am dead serious! 4 Caught them! With a pounding heart and trembling hands, I finally caught them on camera! The secret girlfriend of the Oscar-winner Ethan Vance is actually the famous prima ballerina, Scarlett Dupont! No wonder Scarlett took a minor, uncredited role in Ethan’s new indie film—they’re sleeping together! Looks like that rising pop-starlet from last week was just clout-chasing. The initial leak was from some amateur paparazzi who posted a horribly pixelated photo of Ethan wearing a baseball cap, holding a girl in his arms. The night it went viral, the pop starlet posted a cryptic note on Instagram, asking everyone to “respect her privacy.” Puh-lease. Talk about a parasite. [It’s been five days. Where is the trash paparazzi?] [Chloe! I know you’re reading this! Don’t hide behind your screen!] [Is posting a tweet against your religion, trash paparazzi?] Having gone dark for five days, my little anti-fans are spamming my notifications, begging for the real scoop. I stare at the footage in my camera, hesitating. Ethan looked completely wasted. He looked up, said something to Scarlett, and rubbed his eyes. In that split second, when he looked back up, his eyes were bloodshot. There was a heartbreaking fracture in his gaze, as if he were using every ounce of his strength just to hold back his tears. I read his lips. He seemed to be saying something about “breaking up.” Hearing it, Scarlett’s tears instantly spilled over. Oh, those poor little lovers. What kind of drama are they going through? If I leak this right now, wouldn’t I just be fast-tracking their breakup? In the driver’s seat, Weston pulls my ear and nips my earlobe. He says irritably, “Chloe, it’s four in the morning. I skipped sleep to watch another man with you. What, are you actually feeling sorry for him now?” Weston is clearly sleep-deprived and cranky. He pushes me back against the car seat and kisses me fiercely. He bites my lip hard enough to sting. I pat his back, trying to soothe his temper. The guy has terrible morning wrath; dragging him out of bed at this hour was admittedly a bit cruel. Ever since we got together, Weston always finds ways to ravage me. Every time he kisses me, it’s like his life depends on it, refusing to stop until I’m entirely breathless. My tongue feels numb, and my lips burn. I push against him, but he refuses to let go. I can only snatch brief gasps of oxygen from his mouth. “Look at you, completely helpless, my little piggy,” Weston smirks, looking down at me. Before I know it, I’m curled up in his lap. He brushes his lips against my cheek, murmuring lazily, “Alright, you got the shot. Let’s go home and catch up on sleep. And don’t forget what you promised me before we left the house.” I glare at him, letting out a soft huff. He totally took advantage of the situation. If I hadn’t agreed to that specific demand, he would have refused to act as my chauffeur. I lower my head to tweet: [Stop crying, babies! I can guarantee that Ethan’s girlfriend is absolutely NOT that starlet who claims to be allergic to alcohol but can actually chug a whole bottle of tequila. It’s someone else! @GossipKing, stop feeding us rotten garbage leaks, or I’ll personally smack you across the face. Babies, sorry for the wait. To make it up to you, like, retweet, and comment on this post—I’m picking ten people tonight to win a brand-new Louis Vuitton Neonoe bucket bag.] “Wow, Chloe. Making it big, huh?” Weston immediately pulls out his phone to like and retweet. I am completely speechless. Look at this shameless man! To my surprise, @GossipKing actually claps back instantly. @GossipKing: [@WildPiglet, lol, if you don’t bring real receipts, you really think I’m running a circus here?] And then, he leaks a video! I click on it and examine it closely. The video seems to have been shot in late autumn. Ethan is sitting on a stone bench behind a manicured garden hedge, wearing a black jacket. A girl is sitting on his lap, her face obscured. His expression is cold and detached. The girl suddenly stands up to leave, looking furious. Ethan grabs her wrist, pulls her back onto his lap, cups her face, and kisses her passionately. The internet completely explodes! And I am frozen in shock! I zoom in on the video, and my mind goes entirely blank. The girl in the video has a distinct red mole on her neck. As Ethan kisses her, his hand repeatedly caresses that exact spot. What the hell?! It’s in the exact same spot as the red mole on my neck. Every time Weston pins me down to have his way with me, he loves to bite that exact spot! Weston looks down at my phone, and his expression instantly changes. I sit up, feeling a cold shiver run down my spine. The car window is rolled down, and suddenly, Ethan Vance appears in my line of sight. He stares at my lips first, then glances down at my phone screen. The alcohol must have finally hit him. He brutally yanks the car door open. Before I can even react, he pulls me into a tight embrace, his voice cracking with a suffocating sob: “Wife, I’m sorry. It was my fault. Please, just come back to me.” 5 The entire internet is trying to dig up the identity of Ethan Vance’s secret lover! Hahaha, they don’t know, but I do! I rub my hands in pure excitement, screaming internally. Ethan’s girlfriend is definitely Scarlett Dupont! I really am the undisputed god of Hollywood gossip! Ethan just mistook me for someone else because he’s wasted! Pushing his way in and calling me his wife scared the living daylights out of me. But then I noticed Scarlett’s neck, and a bolt of lightning struck my brain. I yelled out, “Oh my god! So the Best Actor’s mystery woman really is Scarlett Dupont! Weston, look! The red mole on her neck is identical to the girl in the video!” Wow, @GossipKing actually pulled out some real receipts this time. In that video, Ethan looks noticeably younger. Who knows where they dug up that old footage. Ethan seemed to sober up instantly. He stumbled back half a step, staring at me with a hollow, devastated look. Weston glares at him with a cold sneer. “Ethan, don’t use alcohol as an excuse to play dumb and touch my wife. If you dare lay a single finger on my Chloe again, I won’t hesitate to break your other hand.” Scarlett rushes over, supporting Ethan’s weight. Her eyes are red as she whispers sharply, “Weston Sterling is a monster, don’t provoke him. Be rational.” I hated hearing that. Furious, I snap, “Miss Dupont, we’re all adults here. Watch your mouth! If you keep spouting nonsense, believe it or not, I’ll leak everything about you two right this second!” Scarlett snaps, crying out hysterically, “Did I say something wrong?! Weston literally snapped Ethan’s wrist, locked him in a room, and let him suffer in agony for three days! He missed the critical window for surgery, and now he can never play the piano again!” Uh… that statement completely shuts me up. She called Weston a monster… and honestly, doing something like that, Weston really was a… well, uh. What kind of deep blood feud drives someone to break another man’s hand? Ethan originally debuted as a prodigy pianist. No wonder nobody has seen him touch a piano for the past two years. “Weston can be hot-headed, but he would never bully someone without a reason,” I say, squeezing Weston’s hand tightly. “He only loses his mind when it involves me. Miss Dupont, you look like you absolute hate him. So let me ask you: did Ethan do something so unforgivable that Weston couldn’t let it slide?” Did I work as a paparazzi before my amnesia and capture some insane scandal that made Ethan assault me? And then Weston, out of pure rage, broke Ethan’s hand? Before Scarlett can answer, my phone vibrates violently. I look down. Someone is blowing up my alt account on Discord with a voice call. This alt account is loaded with Ethan’s top fansite admins. We usually trade tips on his schedule. “Trash paparazzi! Where the hell are you?!” “All hell just broke loose! Get on Twitter right now!” 6 I log onto X, and holy crap, it really is a massive explosion! @GossipKing: [Lol, Ethan Vance always acts so pure and noble, and his fans keep bragging about how much he loves them. Well, he sure loves them—he loves them so much he’s been sleeping with his biggest fansite admin. Bet you guys didn’t know that, did you?] This time, there are no pictures or videos. It’s just words. But Ethan’s rival fandoms are absolutely ecstatic! They are digging like bloodhounds. The app crashes multiple times from the sheer volume of traffic. An engineer tweets from his personal account: [FUCK MY LIFE!!! Can you paparazzi pick an hour that isn’t midnight to start a war?!] Within ten minutes, an anti-fan account compiles a massive thread. @IsEthanRuinedYet: [Receipts are right here! The girl in the video is wearing a blue hooded jacket. It’s an exact match to the jacket worn by his biggest fansite admin, @WildPiglet, in an old airport arrival video!] The fans immediately launch a counter-attack. [That jacket was a massive trend that year! Literally everyone bought one!] [What does this prove? Piglet left the fandom two years ago! Are you guys so desperate that you have to drag a retired fan?!] [Lol, Ethan isn’t going anywhere. Your faves can keep eating dirt!] @IsEthanRuinedYet strikes back with another post instantly! [The jacket might be generic, but look closely at the bracelet on the girl’s wrist! Every single stone is a flawless, ultra-rare pink diamond. That is not some twenty-dollar fast-fashion junk! That exact bracelet was spotted on @WildPiglet’s wrist before! Anyone who knows luxury jewelry knows that pink diamond bracelet is a global limited edition—only three exist in the entire world.] This time, Ethan’s fans go dead silent. People are frantically DMing me. [Trash paparazzi! Where are you?! We’re dying over here!] [Didn’t you say you caught his real girlfriend? Is it really Piglet?] [We are in deep trouble this time.] @WildPiglet used to be Ethan’s absolute biggest fansite admin. It’s safe to say that without her, Ethan would have never gotten his initial breakout fame. But two years ago, her account went permanently dark, and she vanished from the public eye. My inbox is melting down. Fans are begging me for the truth. But as for what the truth is… even I’m not sure anymore. “Weston… the girl in GossipKing’s video… it’s me, isn’t it?” I look up at Weston, completely bewildered. “You gave me that bracelet. Nobody else could possibly have it.” My head throbs with an agonizing pain, feeling like it’s about to explode. Weston reaches up to wipe my face, and only then do I realize I’m covered in tears. His eyes are bloodshot, his throat bobbing as if he wants to speak, but he just tightly grips my hand. After a long silence, he chokes out, “Chloe… don’t cry. When you cry, my heart breaks.” I turn my gaze back to Ethan. Ethan pulls a stack of small, red booklets from a drawer and spreads them out in front of me. Inside the booklets are photos. I’m sporting a high ponytail, laughing brightly, a deep dimple flashing on my cheek. And I am leaning intimately against Ethan. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt, a gentle warmth crinkling the corners of his eyes. What is this? A marriage certificate… between me and Ethan? 7 SHOCKER! The ultimate gossip subject is actually me! Two clear marriage certificates prove beyond a doubt that I am Ethan Vance’s secretly wedded wife. I lean in and whisper to Weston, “Wait, does this mean we’ve been having an affair?” Weston lets out a cold huff. “What? Thinking of dumping me now?” I suppress my bizarre excitement and whisper back, “Not at all. I just feel like our relationship suddenly got a whole lot more thrilling.” I’m not blind! There are two massive, glaring “VOID” stamps inked across the certificates, meaning this marriage is legally over. How surreal. I was actually married to the top Oscar-winner. And what’s even more surreal is that we got divorced. The anti-fans dig up everything. It’s crystal clear now: I am indeed Ethan’s former million-follower fansite admin—@WildPiglet. Ethan’s new manager is blowing up his phone, and his PR team is desperately trying to suppress the trending hashtags. But right in front of my face, Ethan types out a tweet and posts it directly. @EthanVance: [There are many things I don’t know how to explain right now. We married out of love, and we divorced out of love. During our three years together, I failed her deeply in many ways. I hope everyone can give me some time and space. I will handle my personal affairs privately, and then I will hold a press conference to give my fans the explanation they deserve.] I ponder for a moment, then log into my own account to post a tweet. @WildPiglet: [I literally just found out that I am Ethan Vance’s ex-wife. Before tonight, I had three years of total amnesia and knew absolutely nothing. My gossip, my leak! @GossipKing, you old clown, are you stupid? I am still the reigning sovereign of Hollywood tea! Go cry in a corner.] Ethan’s fandom goes completely haywire. [The trash paparazzi is the actual ex-wife?!] [The ex-wife is Piglet?!] [Someone map out this timeline for me, my brain is melting!] [Honestly… if the wife is the trash paparazzi, I’m kind of okay with it? She’s rich, gorgeous, and hilariously unhinged.] Off to the side, Scarlett breaks down into hysterical tears. “Ethan! Do you have any idea how much you sacrificed to get where you are today?! We could have easily let this blow over! Why did you have to announce it?! Chloe doesn’t even remember you anyway! She’s no threat to your career!” Having stalked Ethan for so long, I know exactly how brutal his journey to stardom was. In his early days as a background actor, he was humiliated by a toxic co-star who made him crawl between his legs just to get a line. Filming a historical drama in sub-zero weather, he plunged into a freezing lake repeatedly for a realistic shot, catching a terrifying fever that night. At industry dinners, to beg a director for a single audition, he drank until his stomach bled, yet he still grit his teeth and pushed through. “Scarlett is right,” I say, feeling a pang of pity. “Ethan, you should go to your agency and figure out a proper damage control strategy with your publicist. If you need me to cooperate with a statement, I will.” Setting everything else aside, I still respect Ethan’s talent. Ethan gazes at me, his eyes slowly filling with tears. He whispers, “Chloe… you didn’t actually lose your memory. You just don’t love me anymore, do you?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “446012”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My boyfriend complained that I looked ugly in glasses, so I bought a pair of contact lenses online. But then, something bizarre happened. After putting the contacts in, I looked at my sweet, doting boyfriend, only to see him glaring at me with utter disgust. “If it weren’t for her money, who would ever date this loser?” he sneered. I blinked, taking the contacts out. Suddenly, he was standing right in front of me, a charming smile plastered on his face. “Babe, you look absolutely gorgeous today.” From that day on, I discovered the secret of those contact lenses— As long as I wore them, I could see people’s true inner thoughts. It turned out my perfect boyfriend was nothing but a two-faced parasite. 1 My boyfriend begged me to buy him a new pair of sneakers, and I said no. He got angry and stormed into my homeroom to confront me. Coincidentally, I was wearing my special contacts again. “Babe, I don’t know what I did to make you so mad, but please forgive me. I really want those sneakers, just buy them for me, please?” He had no idea I could see his vicious, twisted expression as his true inner voice spat: “I’m giving you an inch and you’re taking a mile. I can’t believe I actually have to beg you for this.” I was so startled by his hostile glare that I stumbled backward, accidentally stepping hard on someone’s foot. Looking down, I saw a prominent, dirty smudge smeared across a blindingly white sneaker. I looked up. A breathtakingly handsome guy was looking down at me, his chin tilted slightly. I was just about to apologize. Then I saw him looking at me with dark, unreadable eyes, his inner voice saying: “What is wrong with her taste? Why is she dating a piece of trash like that?” Me: ? Excuse me, how is that polite? Seeing him turn to leave, I quickly called out to him. “It’s my fault for stepping on your shoe, and I apologize for that. But insulting people in your head is just rude.” He just paused, gave me a long look over his shoulder, and walked away. I wanted to march over and argue with him, but my boyfriend grabbed my arm. “When did he even insult you?” Impossible. I clearly saw him insult me. The feeling of my boyfriend’s hand on my arm instantly put me on high alert, and I quickly shook him off. A wave of disgust washed over me. I literally felt sick to my stomach. This guy had been with me for three months. I had spent at least fifty thousand dollars on him, and that didn’t even include our expensive dinners and the “allowance” I gave him. Looking back now, I was so stupid and naive. He only loved my money. To him, I was just a walking ATM. 2 Ever since I discovered the secret of the contacts, I started plotting. One day, I was going to make him spit out every single cent he took from me. Watching my boyfriend’s frustrated expression, I swallowed my disgust and put on a fake, playful smile. “I’ll buy them. I never said I wouldn’t.” He looked a bit surprised, but didn’t question it. “Babe, then hurry up and order them.” He shifted his weight and put on a pathetic, pleading look. “The big basketball game is coming up, and I was really hoping to wear those Dunks to shine on the court.” Oh, so that’s how it is. Fine, I’ll let you keep acting. I coaxed him into leaving, promising I’d buy them tonight. Once he was gone, my entire focus shifted to the desk in front of me. The guy whose shoe I stepped on was my new deskmate, Liam Sterling—the poor transfer student everyone was whispering about. I looked around. The classroom was empty. I crouched down and slowly shimmied under the desks. Just as my hand was about to brush against his white sneaker, a deep, shadowy voice came from above. “What kind of weird fetish is this? You like hiding under desks?” I jumped, completely startled, and slammed my head straight into the corner of the desk. My eyes instantly watered from the pain. “Are you an idiot? How did you even manage to hit that? You really do need your eyes checked.” This new kid had a seriously toxic mouth. Before this, I had been so glued to my boyfriend that I never really paid attention to him. Looking at him now… he was actually incredibly attractive. Sharp jawline, straight nose, deep-set eyes—his features were practically flawless. He was better looking than my favorite celebrities. And unlike my boyfriend, he didn’t have two faces. A second later, I remembered my mission. “What’s your shoe size? And your clothing size?” He ignored me. I crouched there awkwardly. If I wasn’t terrified of the rumor mill, I wouldn’t be hiding under a desk. Plus, I had a boyfriend; I was supposed to keep my distance from other guys. “I accidentally stepped on your shoe earlier. I’m just here to apologize and make it right.” The moment I finished speaking, he leaned over and looked under the desk. “That doesn’t sound like an apology.” I froze for a second before catching his drift. “I’m sorry I got your shoe dirty. To show you how sorry I am, let me buy you a new pair. How does that sound?” He stared at me for a long moment. “Size 10.” I mentally logged the shoe size. “What size clothes do you wear?” Suddenly, he leaned in closer. As he moved, a faint, sweet scent of strawberries drifted through the air. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was coming from him. Honestly, what teenage guy smells like strawberries? “What size does your boyfriend wear?” I answered honestly, “Large.” “Alright. I’m a Double XL.” He let out a short, mocking laugh. “He’s so scrawny. What use is a guy like that?” I didn’t entirely get his underlying meaning, but he was right. Mason was skinny—like, withered, bony skinny. I had never cared about my boyfriend’s physique before, but suddenly, Liam’s words made an awful lot of sense. Regardless, I quickly pulled out my phone and ordered several pairs of limited-edition Dunks and designer athletic wear. 3 On the day of the basketball game, I shoved the shopping bags onto Liam’s desk. He frowned, glancing down at them with clear annoyance. “Take them back.” I checked to make sure no one was looking, then gave him my best puppy-dog eyes. “I can’t. Final sale.” “Then throw them out.” Suddenly, a classmate sprinted into the room to grab something and sprinted right back out. On his way, he shoved me hard. Losing my balance, I crashed headfirst right into Liam’s chest. That faint, familiar strawberry scent completely enveloped me. Following immediately after was a sharp, stinging pain in my nose. “Are you actually a pig? Last time you headbutted a desk, this time you tackle me. What are you going to crash into next?” My nose stung so badly it brought tears to my eyes. I reached up to rub it, but his voice stopped me. Then, I watched as he pulled a childish strawberry-print band-aid from his backpack, peeled the wrapper, and gently placed it across the bridge of my nose. I froze. I crossed my eyes to look at the cartoon strawberry on my face. “Who puts a band-aid on their nose? It looks so ugly.” I was just about to rip it off when I heard someone calling his name from the hallway. I realized how compromising our position looked. The footsteps got closer. In a pure panic reflex, I dove straight under his desk, my hands tightly gripping the fabric of his jeans. A guy poked his head in. “Liam, the counselor wants to see you in his office this afternoon.” “Got it.” The guy left. My nose started itching. Just as I raised a hand to scratch it, a large, warm palm covered the top of my head. “Don’t move.” I froze in terror. The classmate had turned back around. “Did you need something else?” “No.” “Oh, okay.” I finally exhaled a breath I didn’t know I was holding and crawled out from beneath the desk. “Sorry about that,” I laughed awkwardly. He sat up straight, his tone softening. “What did you really want?” Right. I almost forgot the actual plan. But knowing I was going to use him this afternoon made it hard to say out loud. Yet, I couldn’t exactly swap my leading man at this point. “It’s just… could you wear the clothes and shoes I bought you to the game this afternoon?” He reached out with long, elegant fingers, opening the shopping bags on his desk. He glanced inside. “Not bad taste.” “Does that mean you agree?” He leaned in closer. “I can wear the clothes you bought me, but under what title?” “You have a boyfriend. Me wearing clothes you bought… isn’t that a little inappropriate?” He had a point. If my two-faced boyfriend found out, he would literally lose his mind on the spot. I put on my best nonchalant expression. “He won’t be my boyfriend for much longer. Just wear them. If anything happens, I’ll take full responsibility.” A slight smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Before he walked out of the classroom, he leaned down and whispered right against my ear: “Alright. If something happens, you’re responsible.” 4 All afternoon, Mason had been blowing up my phone, demanding I give him the new shoes. I brushed him off, telling him I’d bring them to the court later. He didn’t suspect a thing. He still wants the shoes? He can ask a ghost for them. I got to the bleachers early to wait for Liam. When he finally walked onto the court, wearing the gear and the Dunks I bought him, I couldn’t help the proud, giddy smile spreading across my face. My taste was impeccable. Though to be fair, the guy looked like a model in literally anything. His dark hair was slightly long, the sides faded clean, with a few strands falling perfectly right above his brow line. His sharp jawline led down to a beautifully defined neck. “Wait, how is Liam Sterling wearing limited-edition Dunks? Since when does he have money?” “Right? Didn’t he always wear cheap knockoffs from Temu? And those are the limited releases! They cost thousands!” “You don’t think he’s a sugar baby, do you? I’ve seen a lot of rich girls hitting on him lately.” “Honestly, if I had a face and body like that, I’d find a sugar mama too.” I listened to my classmates gossiping, a little amused. “Who are you guys talking about?” One of the girls pointed at the court. “Him! Liam. He used to wear thrift store junk, and now he’s rocking designer gear. If he isn’t being kept by someone, what else could it be?” Oh, so his name is Liam Sterling. But I bought those for him. I was just about to defend him when an angry voice boomed from above me. “Chloe Bennett! Where are my shoes?” I looked up at Mason’s furious, twisted face. I pointed calmly at Liam on the court. “I bought the wrong size. So I gave them to him.” Instantly, the girls who had been gossiping clamped their mouths shut. “You bought the wrong size, so you tell me! Why the hell would you give them to him?” Under the fading sunlight, I saw his hands ball up into fists. He leaned down, his voice turning lethal. “You dare play games with me? You really have a death wish, don’t you?” I have a death wish? He actually just told me I have a death wish? Even my own parents had never spoken to me like that. I had put up with it for a week. In that moment, the dam finally broke. I stood up, pulled my arm back, and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. “I buy what I want, for whoever I want! Who the hell do you think you are? “You eat my food, you spend my money—what, am I your mother? Are you still nursing? “You play this perfect boyfriend act all day, aren’t you exhausted?” He stared at me in absolute shock, clutching the side of his face that was now burning red. He glared at me with pure venom. “What are you looking at? My money, my rules.” I realized then that he was nothing but a paper tiger. I couldn’t fathom why I had ever been so blinded by him, pouring so much cash into his pockets. Just thinking about it made me nauseous. I couldn’t stomach looking at him for another second. I watched half the game and then headed back to the classroom. 5 I was resting my head on my desk when Mason showed up again. “Chloe, I’m so sorry. I never should have spoken to you like that.” I had just woken up from a nap, so my brain was a little foggy. The guy standing in front of me had morphed back into the gentle, mild-mannered boyfriend who supposedly never raised his voice. It felt completely surreal. He reached out and gently held my hand. “Chloe, I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please forgive me, okay?” Watching tears stream down his face as he offered an endless stream of apologies, I genuinely wondered for a second if I had hallucinated the whole thing. I sat there, utterly exhausted by the whiplash. “You’re being way too loud. Shut up.” I turned toward the voice and saw Liam walking in. I had taken my contacts out to sleep, so my vision was blurry. I could only identify him by his tall silhouette. Before Liam could even sit down, Mason rounded on him. “I’m talking to my girlfriend! Mind your own business! Don’t think just because Chloe bought you some clothes that she actually likes you.” Liam hadn’t even taken his seat yet. He turned his head and looked directly at me. “I really don’t know how blind you have to be to date a piece of trash like this.” Even though I couldn’t see his expression clearly, the quiet rage and heavy sarcasm in his voice were unmistakable. Mason turned back to me, whining, “Chloe, please just forgive me. I swear I’ll never make you mad again. I was just upset today because you gave my shoes to him!” Liam let out a cold laugh. “A man who leeches off a woman’s bank account has the nerve to call me poor. You’ve got some thick skin. Keep gaslighting her, maybe she’ll eventually believe you.” “There’s nothing wrong with spending my girlfriend’s money! What gaslighting? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even without the contacts, I could hear the guilty tremor in Mason’s voice. My head was pounding from their bickering. “Stop fighting. Mason, just go home. We’ll talk tomorrow.” After kicking Mason out, I dug through my bag and put my old, thick-rimmed glasses back on. They were ugly, but I had no choice. I really should have bought backup contacts. The second I put them on and looked up, I was met with a pair of deep, brooding eyes. “Are you legally blind? “You’re actually keeping a guy like that? “Don’t tell me you’re getting back together with him.” His voice kept dropping lower and lower. His eyes darkened, and the very air pressure around us seemed to plummet. When I didn’t answer right away, he added, “Is this what you meant by taking responsibility? “You’re a brilliant actress. It’s a tragedy the Oscars haven’t called you yet.” 6 I went home feeling incredibly frustrated. Thinking about the contacts, I opened the shopping app on my phone to order more, only to find the store had vanished. I dug through my messages and found my chat history with the customer service bot. I sent a question mark, just to see if they were actually shut down. Contact Lens Support: “Hello! Our store has officially closed. If you purchased our special lenses, please do not request a refund yet. I have a huge secret to tell you.” Thank god, a real person was there. “What secret?” Contact Lens Support: “Please click ‘Confirm Receipt’ on your order first, and then I will tell you.” Curiosity won. I went to my orders and hit confirm. “Done.” Contact Lens Support: “When you wear them, you can see people’s hidden, true selves. You can basically consider it mind-reading. Please note, the effect only lasts for one month.” “What do you mean hidden selves? Mind-reading? What are you talking about?” Contact Lens Support: “I am an AI customer service bot. This store is closed.” “Did you just trick me into confirming receipt?!” Contact Lens Support: “We cannot see or hear your messages, so please stop typing. AI gets tired too.” “Are you threatening me?” Contact Lens Support: “AI is exhausted and has gone on strike.” So they basically scammed me into confirming the delivery? But thinking back… ever since I put those lenses in, I had been seeing Mason’s two different faces constantly. Thank god. I legitimately thought I was developing schizophrenia. Why didn’t this sketchy store tell me earlier?! I had bought so many different brands to try, and this was the only pair that didn’t irritate my eyes. But now, I only had one pair left. I wanted to cry. One month was definitely not enough time for me to ruin my ex’s life properly.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “446011”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Drunk, I ran over and banged on the door of my boss—the man I had been secretly in love with. I cried and cursed him out for being a heartless jerk. After I yelled for a good while, a cold voice came from behind me: “Nina, come here! You’re yelling at the wrong door!” 01. My head was spinning, but why did the crisp, cool voice behind me sound exactly like Sebastian’s? I turned around to see a breathtakingly handsome man standing at the door across the hall. He had a stoic, flawless face, wearing casual loungewear and radiating an icy, untouchable aura. So handsome. I shook my dizzy head. Wait, isn’t this Sebastian Cole? I pointed at the door I had been furiously knocking on for the past ten minutes and earnestly mocked him: “Sebastian, you’re so dumb. This is your apartment.” He sighed, furrowed his brows, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nina, come here.” I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes, and said stubbornly, “I’m not coming over. I’m here to break up with you.” “Allow me to remind you,” Sebastian let out a breath of amused disbelief, resting his hand on the doorframe, “Miss Nina, we have never dated.” My eyes immediately turned red, and I looked like I was about to burst into tears. “You really have changed. You heartbreaker.” Sebastian: “……” “Alright, enough fooling around. You’re going to wake the neighbors.” He looked at me helplessly and reached out to pull me over. “Come inside and sober up first.” My vision was completely blurry. It looked like there were two of him trying to grab me. Annoyed, I tried to shove him away, but my hands hit empty air. I lost my balance and pitched forward hard. My violently spinning world was suddenly steadied by an arm wrapping tightly around my waist. Sebastian’s handsome face magnified in my vision. He picked me up effortlessly. Nestled in his arms, the faint, cool scent of cedarwood filled my nose, wrapping me in an overwhelming sense of security. I nuzzled into his neck, took a deep, satisfied breath, and broke into a triumphant smile. I tilted my chin up proudly. “Since you’re basically begging for forgiveness, I’ll let it slide. You’re still my favorite person.” The man let out a cold scoff. “How generous of you, Miss Nina.” I leaned against him, eyes closed. A moment later, feeling his grip loosen, my eyes snapped open. I poked him hard in the cheek, complaining loudly, “Are you trying to abandon me?!” Sebastian’s face stiffened. He tilted his head to the right, but my finger followed him. He couldn’t dodge it. “Nina,” he took a deep breath, “I am just trying to put you on the couch.” I wrapped both my arms tightly around his neck, refusing absolutely. “No. I like it exactly how it is right now.” Sebastian’s voice sounded like it was squeezed through gritted teeth. “I can’t hold you like this forever. You’re going to fall.” I silently slid down, standing on the couch cushion so I was exactly eye-level with him. He let out a cold huff. “At least you listen.” I looked at him with deep pity and sighed dramatically. “What else can I do? Since you’re so weak, I have to save your energy for when it really counts.” Sebastian’s face went completely dark. He asked, word by word, “And when exactly does it really count?” I tilted my head, smiled, threw my arms back around his neck, and pulled myself into his chest, pressing a soft peck to his lips. “For… for times like this.” 02. The above is everything I can remember. Some people are alive, but they might as well be dead. And what the hell happened after I kissed him?! If I’m going to die of embarrassment, at least let me know how it ended! I hate alcohol! Eventually, after an intense internal pep talk, I crept toward the front door, making sure the coast was clear. I carefully twisted the knob, right on the verge of my great escape, when a gorgeously sculpted, muscular arm suddenly slammed across the door in front of me. Above my head came a man’s lazy, morning-gravel voice: “Sobered up?” My scalp went numb. I didn’t dare look him in the eye. “Y-Yeah. Yep. I won’t bother you anymore. No need to walk me out, no need at all…” But the arm blocking the door didn’t budge. Instead, he leaned in, completely blocking my exit. He seemed to have just woken up. His usually sharp, icy eyes carried a hint of morning fatigue. He looked down at me through half-lidded eyes, the morning sun hitting his face, tracing his flawless profile with gold. He looked like an absolute god. I stared, completely mesmerized. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the corners of his lips. He leaned down and whispered, “Miss Nina, you seem to have forgotten something.” Alarm bells rang in my head, snapping me out of my trance. “I… I don’t remember anything from last night,” I stammered, blushing furiously, deciding to play dumb to the bitter end. “So, you kissed me, and you plan to just walk away?” Sebastian stared at me with deep, unreadable eyes. I looked at him, completely bewildered. “So… do you want me to take responsibility?” The more I thought about it, the more excited I got. I took a tiny step forward, looking up at him with eyes full of hope. “Can I? Really?” He let out a soft “Heh” and smirked. “In your dreams.” 03. “HAHAHAHA!” Stella let out a loud, unhinged laugh that rattled the coffee shop windows. “He really said that?” I glared at her, thoroughly heartbroken, silently condemning her. This was all her fault, and here she was, laughing at me. Last night, she went through a bad breakup and dragged me out drinking. After a few too many, she turned her sights on me, nagging about how I had been single since birth and how, now that I finally had a crush, I needed to “boldly pursue love.” I was completely wasted. With her hyping me up, I was filled with liquid courage and decided to make my move right then and there. And we all know how that ended. “Well, you’ve already kissed him, and you hugged him. Your ulterior motives are completely exposed, so just go for it!” Stella’s eyes sparkled with gossip. “Besides, you two have known each other forever. You have a massive home-court advantage over anyone else.” I slid down the booth seating, groaning in depression. I first met Sebastian Cole during the college debate team tryouts. He was the team captain, two years ahead of me. The moment I walked into the crowded lecture hall, my eyes locked onto him at the judges’ table. Even surrounded by people, he had this distant, solitary aura. His skin was pale, and his dark eyes held a cold, snowy glint. My soul left my body. It was love at first sight. Thank God I had a sharp tongue. I made the team and competed alongside him in countless tournaments. I was the aggressive first speaker; he was our closer. In the arena, I was the sniper, and he was my impenetrable shield. We were the perfect partners. Naturally, when he founded his firm after graduation, he asked me to join. But I only fully realized my feelings for him a month ago. I had heard through the grapevine that because Sebastian had been perpetually single, his family issued an ultimatum: he had to bring a girl home for Christmas this year. I laughed in his face, teasing him that it wasn’t his family’s fault for pushing—he literally never had a woman around him. He had been signing documents. He suddenly looked up at me, arguing with absolute seriousness: “I have you by my side. Are you not a woman?” I froze, blinking, my heart slowly accelerating. He didn’t seem to notice my panic. He looked down, thought for a second, then looked back up with a self-deprecating smile. “But I guess… I really only have you.” We locked eyes for a brief, loaded second. He turned his head to look out the window. My mind was a mess, and I subconsciously followed his gaze. It was a clear, warm afternoon. A few golden leaves were drifting down from the trees. He smiled faintly, entirely dropping the cold facade he wore for the rest of the world. His voice was relaxed and soft. “Nina, it’s our ninth autumn.” Our ninth autumn since we met. Looking at his profile, his face seemed to overlap with the stoic college boy from years ago. My chest swelled, something taking root and violently blooming. I couldn’t sleep that night. Tossing and turning, it finally hit me. I had been in love with him for a very long time. 04. Because we had known each other for so long, I overthought everything. I wanted to get closer to him, but I was terrified. I wanted him, but I was afraid of ruining our friendship. Yet, while I was agonizing over this, my brain couldn’t help but replay the memory of him princess-carrying me last night. He picked me up so effortlessly. His body was so warm. I could swear I felt the rigid outline of his pecs through his shirt… “What are you giggling at?” “Huh? Was I smiling?” Stella handed me her compact mirror. Great. My grin was stretching from ear to ear. “Look at you, you absolute fool.” Stella gave me a meaningful look. “If you don’t fight for him now, you’ll die of regret when he belongs to someone else.” My heart squeezed tightly at those words. Looking at my flushed, lovesick face in the mirror, I clenched my fists! “Decided! I’m going to pursue him!” 05. Can we get dinner tonight? Too direct. Delete. That new restaurant downstairs from your place is pretty good. Too roundabout. Delete. I cordially invite you to dine with me. Too formal and weird. Delete. While I was agonizing over the wording, the chat window suddenly showed: Sebastian is typing… He was messaging me too! In my panicked excitement, my hand slipped, and I hit send on my half-typed message! I stared at the screen: [I want to eat you.] NO! I meant to type: ‘I want to eat at that new restaurant downstairs with you!’ Frantically, I jammed my finger onto the screen to unsend it. I hit Delete for Me instead. My hand froze. My brain short-circuited. Sebastian replied instantly: [?] A second later, another message popped up: [You’ve got quite the appetite.] I wanted to punch a hole through the wall! I quickly typed out my original intended message, desperately explaining that it was a typo. He didn’t reply. I buried my face in a throw pillow, groaning. I ruined it again. Ding! It was Sebastian! I scrambled to open the message. Sebastian: [Sounds reasonable enough.] My shoulders slumped. He absolutely didn’t believe me. Last night I forced him to hug me and kissed him, and today I send him unhinged, thirsty texts. In his head, I must look like an absolute predator. While I was wallowing in misery, another Ding! Sebastian: [Come over to my place tonight.] !!! I immediately replied with an [Okay!], spent three hours getting ready, and left looking absolutely flawless. This time, I knocked on the correct door. The door swung open. Sebastian was on the phone, nodding at me to come in. To my delight, he was wearing a crisp white tailored suit. He looked incredibly formal. He… he dressed up for our date?! While I was secretly thrilled, he handed me a designer handbag. Wait, isn’t this my bag?! I left it here last night! So, he just called me over to give me my purse back? Thinking of the three hours I spent doing my hair and makeup, I took the bag, my excitement completely crushed. “Thanks. I’ll let you get back to work. Bye.” The door clicked shut behind me. I stiffened for a second, didn’t look back, and stomped toward the elevator, mentally cursing him out. He didn’t even invite me inside! Didn’t even offer me a glass of water! How rude! As I was fuming, a hand grabbed my arm. I whipped around to see a bewildered Sebastian. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get dinner?” “I already made the reservation.” His handsome face was full of confusion. “Are you not eating?” 06. Mystery solved, folks. He was dressed formally because he had just finished a video conference with a client. We were getting dinner to discuss work. A massive audit project in a neighboring city had just dropped in our laps, requiring a full report within two weeks. Because the timeline was brutal, the payout was astronomical. My commission on this alone would be huge. It just goes to show: single women make bank. Halfway through the meal, the waitress brought over a wine menu, asking if we wanted to open a bottle. Before I could even speak, Sebastian shot me a sideways glance and smoothly declined, “No thank you, she can’t drink.” The waitress smiled sweetly. “You treat your date so well, sir.” I awkwardly cleared my throat. “Ah, well, he’s not doing it to be nice.” The waitress gave a knowing, shy smile. “Oh… why else would it be?” My eyes lit up! She gets it! She totally gets the vibe! Unfortunately, Sebastian was immune to this kind of playful banter. He slowly cut his steak and asked me in a strictly professional tone, “The timeline is extremely tight. We need to drive down there tonight. Are you okay with that?” “Of course.” I agreed instantly. When it came to work, I was always all-in. “I’ll drive you back to your place after we eat. Pack your bags and we’ll leave immediately,” Sebastian said elegantly dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “Drive tonight? We won’t get there until midnight. It’s a Saturday, finding a hotel is going to be impossible.” Under the restaurant’s crystal chandelier, Sebastian looked pristine and cold, but the words that left his mouth made my blood boil in the best way possible. “You’ll sleep at my place.” 07. Since audit work involves constant travel and we had many long-term clients in the neighboring city, Sebastian had simply bought a condo down there. From the moment we walked into his apartment, I couldn’t stop grinning. The client’s financials were highly sensitive this time, which is why they only trusted their two lead consultants—me and Sebastian—to handle it. Sebastian’s logic was purely pragmatic: it’s unsafe for a woman to stay in hotels alone, the timeline was tight, and living together meant we could work insane overtime hours efficiently. At the time, I had nodded calmly, pretending this made perfect professional sense. Internally, I was screaming with joy! I get to live alone with him for two weeks?! Who wouldn’t be thrilled?! “Nina, why are you following me? What are you trying to do?” The man in front of me turned around abruptly. I crashed face-first into his chest. A second later, he gently pushed me back. I looked around. Oh, we were at the bathroom door. Sebastian looked down at me, a half-smile playing on his lips, asking with deadly seriousness. “Didn’t I feed you enough tonight?” Feed me… He still remembered that “I want to eat you” text! So that’s the other reason he brought up dinner! “I’m full, I’m full.” I laughed awkwardly. “I thought we were still doing the apartment tour.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. His long, elegant fingers gripped my shoulders, and he effortlessly spun me around 180 degrees. “The tour ended ten minutes ago.” His chin brushed the top of my head, his warm breath tickling my ear, though his voice remained cool as ice. “Miss Nina, I need to take a shower now. Could you please step out?” What was I supposed to say? No?! I mumbled some incomprehensible agreement and bolted out of his master suite, my heart pounding against my ribs, my face burning. The condo was huge; my guest bedroom had its own en-suite bathroom. After showering in a daze, I went to the kitchen for water while texting Stella. “I’m supposed to be the one seducing him! Why does it feel like I’m the one getting played?!” She replied like a seasoned veteran: “The unintentional rizz is always the deadliest.” It made sense. I asked her what to do. She spammed me with a dozen photos of guys with eight-pack abs. Added text: [Look at more hot guys. Desensitize yourself.] My eyes locked onto one specific photo. The guy’s face was cropped out, but he was biting the hem of a soaking wet white t-shirt. Water dripped down his perfectly sculpted abs. It was an absolute testosterone overload! My eyes went wide. Oh my… Why has she been hiding the good stuff from me?! I looked closer. The guy had pale skin and a cool, aloof vibe—kind of like Sebastian. Imagining Sebastian—my pristine, untouchable boss—doing that exact pose… I was completely on fire! Just as I was giggling like a maniac at my phone, everything went pitch black. At the exact same moment, something cold grabbed my arm. In the dead silence of the dark, my heart violently contracted, and a blood-curdling scream ripped from my throat. 08. My mind went completely blank. As I screamed, I threw a blind, panicked punch. My fist collided with something rock hard. The man let out a muffled grunt and caught my wrist before I could swing again. “It’s me. The power went out.” I trembled, finally finding my voice. “Sebastian?” “Yeah. I’m here. Don’t be afraid.” Sebastian smoothly pulled me closer, wrapping me in a loose embrace. His large, warm hand patted my back with a steady, comforting rhythm. “The building management just texted. Emergency pipe repairs. Power will be out for an hour.” “So… you were coming to tell me, and the lights went out right when you grabbed me?” “Yes.” Sebastian kept his hand moving, gently patting my back. He remembered. He remembered that I was terrified of the dark, and he remembered what I told him years ago—that patting my back was the only thing that calmed me down. My heart settled instantly, replaced by a giddy flutter of happiness. I patted my chest, catching my breath, completely relaxing. Only then did I realize how compromising our position was. I was practically glued to his body. Feeling his abs mere inches from me, a dangerous spark lit up in my brain. “I’m so sorry! Did I hit you hard? Let me rub it for you.” My “kind and caring” hand reached out toward his stomach. Just before making contact, my wrist was caught in a vice grip. The world spun. Suddenly, my back was pinned against the wall, both of my wrists pinned high above my head. He leaned in dangerously close. I could feel his breath. “Nina, are you trying to rub it for me, or are you trying to take advantage of me?” In the pitch black, with only a blurred silhouette visible, all my other senses were dialed up to eleven. I shivered nervously, my heart racing at a million miles an hour. I tried to twist my wrists, but he only pressed them harder against the wall. “Don’t move.” Sebastian leaned in closer. His cool voice carried a dangerous rasp. “Explain yourself.” I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust. This position was way too scandalous… Biting the bullet, I stammered out a terrible lie: “D-don’t overthink it. I really just wanted to… rub it better.” By the last two words, my voice had squeaked into a guilty whisper. “Is that so?” He sounded deeply amused. He pulled out an object glowing with a harsh white light. “Then what is this?” I subconsciously looked over. On his glowing phone screen was the picture Stella had sent me of the wet t-shirt ab guy. Followed by the messages I had just sent her. A row of heart-eyes, drooling emojis, and the text: [AHHHH Stella, he looks just like my Sebastian! I want to touch him so bad and do [censored] things to him!!] Kill me… Bury me… right here, right now… I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut and play dead. But out of the corner of my eye, the glow of the screen illuminated Sebastian’s stoic, ascetic face. He raised an eyebrow, tilted his chin, and looked down at me with an air of absolute superiority. Then, he abruptly reached up with his free hand and yanked his tie loose. 09. “S-S-Sebastian, w-what are you doing?” I watched him loosen his tie and unbutton the top two buttons of his dress shirt. I gulped audibly, my words stumbling over each other. “Scared?” Sebastian’s tone was playful. He casually turned on his phone’s flashlight and set it on the hallway table. The small space lit up. He stepped closer. The man who was usually so cold and composed was smiling wickedly. “Didn’t you say you wanted this?” Wanted? Wanted what? What I texted about?! My heart shot up into my throat like it was on a rollercoaster. I chickened out! I totally chickened out! I plastered myself flat against the wall, putting my hands up defensively, giving him the most pathetic, sycophantic smile. “I-I’m not ready yet! Can we take a raincheck?!” Sebastian finally stopped. I was entirely caged in his space. He let out a low chuckle. “Nina, you really are…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He took a few steps back, admiring my tomato-red face, his smile teasing and slightly cruel. In that moment, Sebastian’s sharp features were painted with a heavy dose of tension. His tie was loose, his shirt slightly unkempt, giving a faint glimpse of his chest. I floated out of there like a ghost, my heartbeat drumming wildly in my ears. I don’t even remember how I ended up lying in the bed in his guest room. Listening to the sound of running water from his bathroom, my face was still burning. His words tumbled around in my head. “The management said the power outage is delayed. You’ll be scared alone, so sleep in my room. I’ll stay with you.” “I was going to shower earlier, got the call, and came straight to find you.” “Go to sleep, don’t wait up. I’ll sleep on the couch after I finish working.” I was being completely taken care of, scheduled down to the minute. Thinking back over the years, he had always taken care of me like this. I was so used to relying on him that I only just realized—drop by drop, all those little moments had formed an ocean of love. I couldn’t help but wonder… his behavior tonight… does he like me too? And what did he mean by “Nina, you really are…”?! Tossing and turning, smiling one minute and agonizing the next, I eventually drifted off. I dreamt about our college days. Once, after losing a debate tournament, we stayed in a small conference room analyzing the match until 11 PM. By the time we left, the dining halls were closed. Starving, I walked toward the sketchy food stalls off-campus to grab a bite. The street was dark and practically deserted. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man dart out of an alleyway to my right, staring at me intently. My instincts screamed danger. I walked as fast as I could to the nearest lit food cart, pretending to casually order dumplings, while speed-dialing Sebastian. He picked up immediately. Suppressing my tremors, I put on my best acting voice. “Hey babe, I’m at the West Gate food street. Didn’t you say you were picking me up? You’re two minutes away, right?” Sebastian arrived in thirty seconds. He had sprinted the whole way. Panting, he grabbed my wrist, letting out a visible sigh of relief. I was paralyzed with fear. I instinctively gripped his arm with both hands, trying to keep my voice steady. “Let’s… let’s go.” Just as I said that, I noticed the creepy guy hadn’t left! My heart spiked, and I pressed myself tightly against Sebastian’s side.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “446010”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Four years into my marriage to my childhood sweetheart, my family went bankrupt. We started fighting constantly, getting physical, and even wanted a divorce. But unexpectedly, after one of our massive fights, my memory suddenly reverted back to when I was 22. That was when Ethan and I were most deeply in love. And so, I said: “Hubby, hug me.” The aloof, aristocratic man wiped the scratch I had just given him and said coldly, “What kind of game are you playing now?” “Trying a sneak attack this time?” Me: “I want a hug, don’t you?” … After a long pause, he said, “I do.” “Come here.” 1 After a huge fight with Ethan Wright, my memory suddenly snapped back to age 22. 22-year-old Chloe wouldn’t fight with Ethan. She always wanted to stick to him like glue. So, looking at the man sleeping with his back to me, I didn’t even think twice— I aggressively yanked his blanket off. Ethan frowned: “Chloe, are you done throwing your… mmm…” Before he could finish, I straddled him and kissed him deeply. Ethan struggled for a second before violently pushing me away. In the moonlight, the red scratch on his forehead was faint, but it hadn’t scabbed over yet. I didn’t know I was the one who had scratched him earlier. I thought he bumped into something from working too hard. So, I leaned in and gently kissed the wound. Ethan’s body visibly jolted. Then, he pinned me hard against the mattress. His eyes were ice-cold as he gripped my wrists. “What the hell are you doing, Chloe?” “Instead of throwing punches, you’re resorting to sneak attacks now?” I couldn’t understand what he was saying. I only knew he seemed really angry. 22-year-old Chloe hated it most when Ethan was angry. I lifted my upper body, trying hard to press my lips to his. “Hubby, I just wanted to hug you.” I whined playfully, wrapping my arms around his neck: “Don’t you want to?” He stared at me, his gaze as dark and deep as an abyss. After a long silence, he leaned down and kissed me. “I do.” As our lips tangled, I felt his tense body relax in a way it hadn’t in a long time. “More than anything.” 2 I had no idea this was the first intimate contact Ethan and I had shared in three months. I just chalked it up to his youthful stamina, tossing me around harder and harder as the night went on. When I woke up the next day, my lower back felt like it was breaking. Ethan had already left for work, and I pouted. I complained to our housekeeper, Martha, who was standing nearby: “He didn’t even say good morning to me.” “He used to always say good morning!” And kiss me! Martha looked at me with sheer terror, like I was a monster. After a long pause, she choked out two sentences: “Ma’am, three months ago, Mr. Wright gave you a kiss.” “And you cracked his head open with a chair.” Me: … When did I get so violent? I completely refused to believe Martha’s words. After all, Ethan and I were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together. We had a great relationship, and when we reached legal age, it was only natural that we dated and got married. How could I possibly do something so awful to him? 22-year-old me didn’t know that when I was 26, my family would go bankrupt. I would become sensitive, paranoid, and withdrawn. And Ethan naturally had an icy, aloof personality. He hated explaining himself. When two silent people clash, I stopped believing in his love, and he couldn’t understand my suspicion. We fought every single day. At our worst, things even got physical… I knew none of this. I waved my hand dismissively: “Stop talking nonsense and pack me a lunch.” “I’m going to the office to see Et…” Before I could finish, a booming woman’s voice echoed from downstairs. “Chloe Evans, you beat my son into that state!” “Get down here right now!” 3 In my memory, Ethan’s mother was incredibly gentle. She always had a warm smile whenever she saw me. But this time, she was furious, her eyes filled with absolute disgust. “Chloe, it’s one thing that your family went bankrupt.” “But do you plan to leech off my Ethan for the rest of your life?!” She suddenly slammed a set of divorce papers onto the table: “The Wright family doesn’t need an incompetent, violent daughter-in-law like you. Sign these papers immediately.” “Leave my son!” I stared blankly at everything unfolding in front of me. Bankrupt? When did my family go bankrupt? Besides, I was cute, bubbly, and outgoing. No one had ever called me “violent” growing up. My 22-year-old self had never weathered a storm like this. I was too stunned to react. As Mrs. Wright stepped forward, enraged, about to grab me— Ethan suddenly appeared. He ran in, panting, and pulled me securely into his arms. “Mom, who gave you the right to touch her?!” “Son, stop being a fool. Look at the gash on your forehead. Do you really want to be tied to this crazy woman for the rest of your life?” I peeked out from his chest, looking pitiful. “I’m not a crazy woman.” Ethan looked down at me, clearly stunned. It seemed he hadn’t expected me to be so calm. He shielded me tightly and said seriously: “She is my wife.” “Whether her family is bankrupt or not, she is.” “You are not allowed to bully her! No one is allowed to bully her!” 4 Up in the master bedroom, Ethan placed me on the bed. His movements carried a trace of unfamiliarity and… defensiveness. Like he was afraid I might suddenly hit him. “Are you okay?” “Hubby, did my family go bankrupt?” I looked up, asking Ethan. No matter how dense Ethan might be, he could see something was very wrong with my mental state right now. But he didn’t call me out. He just stroked my long hair, crouched down, and said earnestly: “It’s okay. You still have me.” As soon as he said that, his face flushed bright red. Probably because at 26, we spent all our time constantly arguing. I had never shown him vulnerability, and he had never tried to comfort me. But things were different now. I lunged forward and hugged him tight. Tears streamed down my face. I choked out: “Hubby, please don’t abandon me, okay?” “I know how much wealthy families care about alliances and profits.” “I know you’d probably rather find a girl who can actually help your career.” “But I really, really love you. I don’t want us to split up.” “Please don’t leave me, okay?” 22-year-old Chloe was a deeply loved, pampered heiress. I had the most love and care in the world. So without overthinking it, I threw myself into his arms, whining and pouring out my love. Ethan visibly froze. A second later, he pulled me slightly away and kissed me fiercely. It was burning, full of love, and carried a dark, impulsive edge I didn’t quite understand. I was pinned to the mattress. “Mmph, you haven’t promised me yet.” I turned my head away: “If you don’t promise, no kissing!” He grabbed my chin. A storm of violent emotions rolled in his eyes: “I promise.” “I will never abandon you.” He made the vow solemnly, his fingers undoing the buttons of my blouse one by one. His passionate kisses were laced with extreme devotion. I heard him whisper: “So… you still love me, too.” It turns out, a man who has been starved of intimacy for a long time is quite terrifying. My body felt like it was falling apart before Ethan finally let me go. He carried me for a quick clean-up, then gently pulled me into his arms, kissing my hair. “Did it feel good?” Just as I was about to answer, a blinding white light flashed before my eyes. Countless memories flooded back into my brain, crashing over me. I was 26 again. 5 Looking at the naked man holding me close. I let out a piercing scream and kicked him right off the bed! “Ethan Wright! You—you took advantage of me!” “We’re about to get a divorce, and you still touched me! Watch how I…” I grabbed the bedside lamp, ready to smash it over his head. But this time, he didn’t dodge coldly like he used to. Instead, he grabbed my wrist mid-air and pinned me back down on the bed. His gaze was teasing, but he wasn’t angry. “Hitting me right after sleeping with me?” Damn it! How did I not realize how strong he was when I used to throw things at him?! I couldn’t break free at all! The memories from just moments ago were all still there, playing on a loop in my head. The whining, the crying, the begging him not to leave me. 26-year-old Chloe wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. I could only choose to actively ignore it. I glared at him furiously: “Let me go!” “We agreed to go get the divorce papers tomorrow.” “Now. We are going right now!” “I’m not signing them,” Ethan said stiffly. He never had a great temper to begin with. In the past, I was usually the one coaxing him. Seeing the wrecked state of the room from my outbursts, the gentleness he had just a moment ago vanished. He was teetering on the edge of anger again. “What exactly do you want?” “Flipping back and forth? Is your brain broken?” “Yes! My brain is broken.” “So right now, immediately, come to the courthouse and sign the papers!” “I don’t want to wait!” Suddenly regaining my 22-year-old memories—if that wasn’t a broken brain, what was? Ethan looked at me, the last shred of his patience finally evaporating. So, he didn’t hesitate anymore. He quickly threw his clothes on and drove us to the courthouse. Filing for divorce in our state requires a thirty-day waiting period. While we were submitting the paperwork, the clerk suddenly looked at me and said, “Ms. Evans, if one party has committed adultery or another fault, you can file for an at-fault divorce.” “That way, you might not have to wait.” Adultery? I followed the clerk’s frowning gaze. The hickey on Ethan’s neck was incredibly conspicuous. It was glaringly obvious it was left there last night. So… the clerk thought I caught my husband cheating? Ethan caught on instantly. He reached up, casually pulled his collar down a bit more, and said with a straight face: “She gave me these.” “I didn’t cheat.” “Oh? Then why are you getting a divorce?” the clerk asked. Ethan: “She has split personalities. One minute she loves me, the next minute she doesn’t.” 6 Damn it… You’re usually a man of so few words. Why are you explaining yourself so clearly now?! I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. I handed in the application and practically sprinted out of there. Once I got into a cab, I received a call from my mom. She told me the debt collectors were at her door again. I quickly told the driver to turn around and head to my mom’s place. The cramped, narrow corridors of this rundown apartment building… If my family hadn’t gone bankrupt, if my dad hadn’t run off with his mistress and illegitimate daughter, I would have never stepped foot in a place like this in my entire life. A group of burly men was blocking the doorway, demanding to know when my mom would pay up. I immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her. “I’ll get you the money. Didn’t we already agree on a payment plan?” “Then why didn’t you transfer the money yesterday? Yesterday was the due date.” Me: Because I had amnesia. But who would believe that? Helpless, I had no choice but to empty all the cash in my purse and hand it to the man, promising him that I would pay on time moving forward. That finally got them to leave. Once the crowd dispersed, my mom grabbed my hand, looking sick with worry. “Chloe, mom knows you’re out of money too. Could we ask Ethan to help us out just a bit?” I collapsed exhaustedly onto the peeling faux-leather sofa, my voice muffled. “He can’t help us anymore. We’re getting a divorce.” My mom was shocked, but she quickly expressed her understanding. After all, she had married “down” when she chose my dad. She spent decades enjoying a smooth, harmonious life, leveraging her resources to help him climb the ladder. But even then, my dad secretly had another woman and another child on the side. When disaster struck, he didn’t even think twice before abandoning us both. How long can a marriage really hold up? Especially one hit by a massive crisis. No one knows. “Then what are you going to do? Working as a piano teacher at that local academy isn’t going to be enough to pay off this kind of debt,” my mom said, her brows furrowed tight. I comforted her: “It’s fine, Mom. I’ll borrow a little from Mia first, and I’ll pick up a few extra side gigs. We will get through this.” My mom buried her face in my shoulder and cried like a child. And me—the girl who used to whine and throw tantrums freely—had to learn how to grow up. I was no longer my 22-year-old self. At 22, I loved attending high-society galas and parties. Everywhere I went, I was the superstar carrying limited-edition designer bags. But at 26, wearing a generic dress provided by the event organizers, I sat in the corner, tirelessly playing piano piece after piano piece. Completely ignored. Eventually, my best friend, Mia Sullivan, came over. She rubbed my wrist sympathetically. “Are you okay, Chloe? Are you tired?” I shook my head: “I’m surviving.” Several people nearby had recognized me. They couldn’t help but sneer and point fingers at me. But my mind was entirely focused on getting my paycheck. I had no energy to care about anything else. Just as I was heading to get my payment, a familiar face entered my line of sight. It was Ethan. Tall, dressed in an immaculately tailored suit, his handsome face drew the attention of countless women in the room. But he ignored all of them, stubbornly keeping his eyes fixed in my direction. Our eyes met. I didn’t say a word. A flicker of anger slowly built in his eyes. So, when the next girl came up to offer him a drink, he didn’t brush her off. Mia clicked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk. He’s obviously trying to make you jealous.” “You aren’t going over there? Are you really willing to let him go?” I shook my head. I was just about to tell her that we were already getting a divorce. Besides, in my current state, just keeping myself fed was a struggle. I didn’t have the energy to march over there and play petty jealousy games over a romance. But before I could even voice my thoughts, another blinding white light flashed before my eyes. Oh, no. As the thought crossed my mind, my brain’s memories began scrambling again, finally locking into place. Yep. I had… traveled back to being 22 again. 22-year-old Chloe watched another woman casually place her hand near Ethan’s shoulder. Instantly, I was engulfed in a blazing inferno of rage. Without a second thought, I slapped away the envelope of cash the event manager was trying to hand me, and stomped straight toward Ethan. “Ethan Wright, you are not allowed to hold another woman!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “446009”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I never had the courage to confess my feelings. My mom, heartbroken by my quiet pining, secretly tried to play matchmaker. She was effortlessly shut down by Carter. “You’ve got to be kidding. I absolutely despise it when elders meddle in my personal life.” “Even if I were looking to settle down, she wouldn’t even make the list.” I nodded and accepted his words without a fight. Terrified my mom would blame herself, I packed our bags and moved us out of the city overnight. One month passed. Then two. Carter remained completely silent. But on the day I finally agreed to a setup with someone new, he suddenly tracked me down. “My family is arranging a marriage for me. She’s a real estate tycoon’s daughter.” I pressed my lips together and said, “Congratulations.” Carter’s face darkened with sudden, fierce anger. “Chloe, do you really have to speak to me like that?” 1 When he first found out I liked him, Carter raised an eyebrow and asked, “Your mom says you have a crush on me. Is that true?” I had just run through the pouring rain to deliver files to a client. I was drenched to the bone, but my face flushed hot as I started to nod. Carter just laughed. “Why didn’t you tell your mom that we are just friends? Strictly platonic.” I felt the blood drain from my face in an instant. I didn’t understand. Friends. How could we be just friends? In the five years I’d known Carter, he had never missed a single important moment in my life. When I was fresh out of college, I didn’t know how to say no to my boss’s unreasonable demands. At a corporate networking event, a client tried to take advantage of me. It was Carter who threw a punch, dragged me out of there, and handled the fallout so my background check for a new job wouldn’t be ruined. When I had to travel out of state for work, he volunteered to come along, joking that he was my personal bodyguard. Two years ago, a doctor back home found a shadow on my mom’s lungs and suspected cancer. I was completely paralyzed with fear. It was Carter who contacted a top specialist, secured a hospital bed, dropped all his work, and stayed by my side in the waiting room day and night. When we found out it was a benign tumor, I held him and cried tears of pure joy. My mom saw everything. From then on, she’d intentionally bake him pies and send him care packages, trying to boost my image in his eyes. Carter would always laugh and tease that he was reaping the benefits of knowing me. My mom knew all of this. Just like my friends, she knew everything Carter had done for me over the years, and naturally assumed it was only a matter of time before we got together. That was why her heart ached for my unrequited love, prompting her to approach him. But no one expected that right when I was ready to confess, Carter would beat me to the punch to remind me of my place. I opened my mouth to ask why, but Carter seemed to read my mind. He answered with cruel consideration. “Everything I’ve done for you was just because I view you as a friend. That’s all it is.” 2 I had been berated by clients all day and forced to drink at a luncheon. My head was pounding. But I still wanted to fight for myself one last time: “But the way you treat me crossed the line of a normal friendship a long time ago.” Who drives across town in the dead of night to buy expensive ingredients, just to cook a meal to cheer up a friend? My face was dripping wet. Tears mixed with the rainwater, sliding down the hem of my shirt and soaking into his carpet. Carter raised his hand, seemingly wanting to grab a towel to dry me off. But halfway there, his hand stiffened, and he diverted toward a drawer instead. He pulled out a ridiculously expensive luxury watch and slowly clasped it around his wrist. His tone was completely detached. “Chloe, you just haven’t seen much of the world. That’s why you treat a little bit of basic decency like a lifeline.” “Go out and date a few more guys. You’ll realize what I did was nothing.” My intuition screamed that I was losing him. I wasn’t ready to let go. Like a drowning woman clutching at a rope, I pleaded. “But I think you’re incredible. So many people in the world go from friends to lovers. We’ve known each other for so long, we know everything about each other, and there are no other women in your life. Can’t we just try? I really, really like you, Carter.” “At the very least, you like me as a friend. That means there’s hope, right?” I wanted to list them out. I wanted to list every moment he had been good to me, to prove that there was at least a spark of love between us. But Carter chuckled, finally sounding impatient. “You know we only have a platonic connection, so because you weren’t confident, you had your mom try to force my hand?” His voice was laced with confusion and amusement. “What were you thinking? Did you think even if I didn’t like you, I’d be too polite to reject an elder?” I froze. My immediate reaction was to explain: “No, that’s not—” I honestly didn’t know my mom was going to do that, nor did I want to pressure him. But before I could get the words out, Carter spoke, his voice dripping with disappointment. “Stop joking around, Chloe. You know I despise it when people meddle in my business.” “Even if I were looking, she wouldn’t be on the list.” As if to punctuate his words, the watch on his wrist caught the light, gleaming with cold indifference. It stung my eyes. I belatedly realized it was the newest season’s release from a top-tier luxury brand. Something a regular working-class person could never afford in a lifetime. For a modest paycheck, I swallowed insults from clients and ran through torrential rain to deliver papers. I was standing there looking like a drowned rat, begging for his affection. And all he had to do was stand there and let a single watch remind me of the massive chasm between our worlds. If my mom hadn’t accidentally forced this confrontation, he probably never would have revealed his true background to me. This so-called friendship felt like a massive, humiliating joke. My throat tightened. After a pause, he added, “Even if you do like me, why did you have to go about it this way?” In that moment, it hit me. Carter was blaming me. Blaming me for breaking the delicate balance of our friendship. Blaming me for confessing my feelings using the one method he hated most. Blaming me for not knowing my place and having delusions of grandeur. The damp chill of the rain seeped into my bones, bringing an agonizing ache. I suddenly shivered. Carter frowned and half-raised his hand to do something. But he stopped, remembered himself, and dropped it back to his side, clenching it into a fist. Perhaps realizing his words had been too harsh, he shifted to a coaxing tone. “Stop crying, okay?” “If I actually liked you in that way, I wouldn’t bear to see you looking this miserable. Do you understand?” I suddenly felt utterly pathetic. Not wanting to lose any more of my dignity, I nodded and hoarsely whispered that I understood. I turned around to leave. Carter called out after me. “I’ll have someone bring you up some hot tea.” I shook my head. “No need.” Carter hesitated for a fraction of a second. But in the end, he said nothing. 3 Maybe because of the rain, I slept terribly. I tossed and turned, trapped in endless dreams. In my dreams, Carter’s disappointed voice echoed on a loop. “Chloe, I thought you were different. I thought you’d never let parents interfere in my life.” His face slowly blurred away. The dream rewound through time, landing on the early days of our friendship when I dragged him to a pottery class to relieve stress. Carter was a perfectionist; he demanded flawlessness in everything he did. But he had been restless that day, unable to focus, and naturally couldn’t sculpt anything decent. I pointed to my own lopsided clay lump and said, “You don’t have to be so serious. It can be whatever you want it to be.” “Even if it’s a total mess, you can still enjoy the messy process.” He smiled then. He told me that everyone in his life loved trying to control his decisions. People wanted his money or influence, and when they couldn’t manipulate him directly, they used his parents to force his hand. He had said, “I love hanging out with you because you give me room to breathe.” What did I say back then? I confidently told him that I considered him my best friend. And best friends understand and support each other. They never interfere in each other’s lives for selfish reasons. But now, I had become exactly like the people he despised. Because of my one-sided feelings, I let a parent apply pressure. Even though it wasn’t my intention, to him, the result was exactly the same. I had crossed his ultimate boundary. 4 I took a sick day to rest. When my head finally cleared, I went back to the office. My coworker, Jess, who was helping me set up a conference room, suddenly grabbed my arm, buzzing with excitement. “Chloe! I just saw your guy, Carter. He is dressed to kill today!” “Did he get dressed up just to see you?” “Come on, spill it. Where is he taking you after work?” A tiny spark of hope flared in my chest out of habit, but it was instantly extinguished when I remembered what had happened. I forced a tight smile. “No, he’s not here for me. Probably just visiting.” After all, during the two days I was home sick in bed, he hadn’t sent me a single text. Jess didn’t look convinced, but she dropped it. Soon, Carter appeared. But he didn’t walk toward me. Instead, under the spotlight of everyone’s attention, he walked straight onto the main stage. —Speaking on behalf of the Hayes Group regional branch. This wasn’t on the original conference agenda. It must have been a last-minute addition. “The speaker is the heir to the Hayes Group. Rumor has it he just started taking over the family business a few weeks ago, starting with this branch. Today is his first official public appearance.” Jess whispered the fresh gossip in my ear, shaking her head. “Wait, Carter has been picking you up from work for years, and nobody knew he was the Hayes heir? He hides it well. And you—your best friend is a billionaire and you didn’t even tell me—” She nudged my arm, turning to tease me. But when she saw how completely drained of color my face was, she hesitated. “Chloe, you didn’t know… did you?” I really didn’t. That watch a few days ago was the only clue I had that his family was wealthy. I was just finding out today that he was the heir to the Hayes Group. He had hidden it flawlessly all these years. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, realizing in a daze that this was an incredibly ruthless way to reject someone. He was telling me he had never considered me a true friend. And he was reminding me that the gap between us was astronomical. If I knew what was good for me, I’d stay far away. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and went back to work. As Carter’s speech neared its end, some corporate employees from the Hayes Group nearby started gossiping about how handsome he was. The conversation inevitably shifted to his love life. After mentioning the endless string of high-society setups his family arranged, one woman scoffed: “The craziest part is, a few days ago, some working-class mom actually ambushed Mr. Hayes trying to set him up with her daughter. Since when can just anyone walk up and pitch themselves to the heir?” I knew secrets didn’t stay secret, but I couldn’t believe it had spread this fast. The voices continued. “Your intel is off. I heard the daughter actually knew Mr. Hayes for years, claiming to just be a platonic friend.” “But get this: she hung around him for years playing the ‘friend’ card, and the second she found out he was taking over the company, she threw herself at him. Talk about looking for a payday.” Someone else chimed in: “Worse than that. She even sent her small-town mom to do the dirty work. Does she think she’s some aristocratic heiress, demanding an arranged marriage?” My face turned ashen. I didn’t even realize that to outsiders, this was the narrative. Was this how Carter saw me too? Jess frowned and asked me, “The girl they’re talking about…” I looked up just as Carter was walking past our section toward the backstage area, and our eyes met. My voice was dry. “Yeah. It’s me.” Carter’s gaze swept over me, landed briefly on the gossiping women—he definitely heard them—and his expression remained completely blank. He didn’t stop. He just kept walking. Jess instantly flared up. “What is his problem?! Why is he telling everyone about this?” “He lies about his identity for years, yet he’s perfectly fine letting you take the fall and get dragged through the mud? What a jerk!” I dug my fingernails into my palms, not sure if I was answering Jess or comforting myself. “It means we aren’t friends anymore.” Because I presumed to cross a boundary, we were no longer friends. And I needed to drop the delusions once and for all. 5 The drama with Carter eventually made its way back to my mom. My older sister, Sarah, was out of town for work, and my mom was at her place watching my nephew. When I went over, she wiped her hands nervously on her apron and asked, “Did I do something wrong, honey? Did I cause you trouble?” I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “No, Mom. Carter just doesn’t like me back. It’s really not a big deal.” If there was one person in the world who genuinely just wanted me to be happy, it was my mom. She didn’t know the politics. She just saw my heartbreak. She just wanted me to smile. To distract her, I mentioned that I was going to ask my company for a transfer to our Boston office. A promotion and relocation was something HR had offered me months ago. Back then, Carter had frowned and said the city he hated most in the world was Boston. So, I had stood in solidarity with him and turned the offer down. But looking at it now, Boston was exactly where I needed to be. I didn’t want my mom staying here and hearing the nasty rumors, so I used the excuse that I needed her to cook for me, asking her to move to Boston with me. While I handed over my projects at work, my mom started packing. We planned to leave the moment Sarah got back from her business trip. During this time, Carter and I didn’t exchange a single word. But halfway through the week, the school called and demanded I come in, claiming my nephew, Noah, had tripped a classmate. Sarah didn’t know Carter and I had cut ties, so before I left, she texted: “If it gets messy, ask Carter to go with you. He helped us get Noah into that school, so he knows the staff better.” I didn’t reply. The situation was actually very simple. Another kid was running blindly, didn’t see Noah quietly playing on the floor, and tripped over him, getting a bloody nose. When I got to the office, the principal said it wasn’t entirely our fault, but the other kid was pretty banged up. He suggested I just apologize to the parents to keep the peace. It should have been easy. But when the parents walked in, it was a man and a woman—and the woman was Brittany, a girl who used to aggressively pursue Carter. Back in the day, Carter had used me as a shield to get Brittany to back off, which resulted in her making my life miserable for a while. It only ended when Carter stepped in and gave her family some kind of brutal warning. The man was Brittany’s cousin, Todd. He immediately recognized me. With an oily, flattering smile, he asked: “Wait, aren’t you Carter’s…” Before he could finish, Brittany impatiently whispered something in his ear. Todd’s expression shifted to hesitation. He stepped outside to make a phone call. I don’t know what was said, but when he walked back in, his attitude had completely changed. He was arrogant and aggressive, insisting that Noah had maliciously tripped his kid, demanding that my nephew apologize in front of the entire class. I refused. We argued for a long time. In the middle of it, Brittany stood next to me, smirking. “Chloe, Carter isn’t going to protect you anymore. You’re dead meat.” I rolled my eyes. Brittany was determined to escalate things, trying to direct all her anger at me. She glared and shouted, “Chloe, it’s because this kid is raised by a shameless social climber who throws herself at rich men that he acts like a little delinquent!” Mindful of the principal standing right there, I held myself back from slapping her. Taking advantage of my silence, Brittany pulled out her phone and dialed a number. The moment it connected, she put on a sickeningly sweet, whining voice, completely twisting the story: “Carter! Chloe is bullying my nephew at school, aren’t you going to do something about it?” I realized then that Brittany must have finally gotten her claws into Carter. Not wanting to hear his voice through the speaker, I casually stuck my foot out and tripped Todd. He stumbled forward and knocked the phone right out of Brittany’s hand. Brittany was furious, but all she could do was glare at him. Eventually, another parent who had witnessed the playground incident stepped in and corroborated my story. The school dismissed the issue. After thanking the helpful parent, I walked out to the parking lot. Near the school gates, I saw a familiar car. It was Carter’s old car. The one I had helped him pick out years ago. We had haggled with the salesman for hours to get the price down. When he finally bought it, he picked me up in it all the time, promising that the passenger seat was exclusively mine. But that was all in the past. For the billionaire heir of the Hayes Group, that car was practically garbage. I had no idea why he was still driving it. Brittany ran up to it, thrilled, whining coquettishly. “Oh, you didn’t have to come all this way for something so small! I know you’ve been so busy. Todd and I handled it.” Todd stood nearby, smiling like a lapdog. “Yeah, yeah, exactly. Just a little playground squabble. We handled the unreasonable people.” I was speechless. I didn’t even have the energy to argue over who was actually unreasonable. I just turned and walked away. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Carter looking in my direction. Afraid he was going to back Brittany up and cause a scene, I walked even faster.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “446008”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

We were childhood sweethearts, growing up right next door to each other. After college, he went to a top Ivy League university for his master’s degree. And I signed with a prestigious modeling agency in Paris. When people gossiped that the modeling industry was full of messy private lives and that a rookie model like me didn’t deserve him… He would be the first to stand up and have my back: “I trust Chloe, and I deeply respect her career.” During our three years of long distance, we always said goodnight to each other, bridging the time zones. No matter how busy the week got, we always squeezed in time for a video call to share the little, funny moments of our lives. I honestly thought we would walk hand-in-hand forever, growing old together. Until— A genius freshman girl joined his lab… 1 I forget how many times Carter had blown me off by now. Just to catch him on his lunch break, I deliberately woke up an hour early. At six in the morning, Paris was dreary and drizzling. It was a perfect match for my mood. I ducked into the metro station, looking like a drowned rat, trying to escape the rain. Ten minutes. I silently promised myself. I will give Carter exactly ten more minutes. Perhaps it was some lingering telepathy between us, but he seized the window. With thirty seconds left on my mental countdown, he returned my video call. “Sorry, Chloe, I was swamped all morning.” Carter’s voice was as gentle as ever, just like when we were kids. Whenever I got into trouble, he would pretend to come over to borrow a book, just to put in a good word for me with my parents. From that moment on, I had grown accustomed to his voice. It felt like as long as he was there, every problem in the world would magically resolve itself. So, I had to admit, in that exact moment, I let out a breath of relief. Because it felt like God was still on my side. “You’re heading out this early?” “Yeah, I have a commercial shoot today.” “Did you eat breakfast yet?” If this were the past, Carter would have asked for every detail about the commercial. He would have researched the brand’s history and aesthetic for me, giving me tips on how to carry myself on set. But today, he asked none of that. Instead, he smoothly changed the subject. “In a bit…” Before I could even finish my sentence, a girl with a high ponytail squeezed into the frame. “Who is it? Who is it? Is that your girlfriend, Carter? Wow! She’s so pretty! No wonder she’s a model!” She cupped her face with her hands, her tone incredibly exaggerated. It immediately drew the attention of the other grad students in the lab. They swarmed over, snatching Carter’s phone and passing it around. “She’s gorgeous!” “No wonder Carter’s been saving himself! I didn’t know his girl was this stunning!” I felt like a monkey in a zoo, being put on display, judged, and critiqued. Maybe they didn’t mean any harm. But the behavior felt incredibly invasive. “Hailey! Stop messing around!” Carter’s eyes were full of indulgence, his tone affectionate and helpless. It was a look I knew all too well. “Ooh, Carter is getting jealous! I just want to say hi to the pretty lady! What kind of commercial are you shooting today?” At that question, the tips of Carter’s ears turned red. Even though it was just a flash, I caught the sudden embarrassment in his eyes. Yes, embarrassment. He wasn’t apologizing for his friends’ invasive behavior. Instead, he was harboring an unspeakable sense of shame about my profession. “Oh, by the way! Did you know our project just had a massive breakthrough? It’s the one where…” The girl named Hailey just kept rambling at me through the screen. She was waving her hands enthusiastically, throwing out complex physics theories, while I sat on the other end, letting out a dry yawn. I didn’t mean anything by it; I was just genuinely exhausted. “Ah! I’m so sorry! I totally forgot you don’t understand any of this! My bad, once I get going, I can’t stop!” Hailey playfully stuck out her tongue, winking at Carter before turning back to me: “Next time I have questions about makeup or skincare, I’ll make sure to come to you!” “Yeah, exactly! You can’t talk physics to a fashion model, that’s just cruel!” someone chimed in. The group exchanged knowing glances and burst into laughter. Carter’s face flushed a deep crimson as he snatched his phone back. One guy relentlessly teased him: “Come on, man, why haven’t you taught your girl anything?” Carter mumbled vaguely: “She wouldn’t understand it anyway!” “Alright, Chloe, we still have a project to finish. If there’s nothing else, I’m gonna let you go, okay?” Hearing that, I looked up at the sky outside the station. The rain had stopped. But the sky was still a gloomy, oppressive gray. I waited a few seconds until the patience on the man’s face in the screen began to visibly wear thin, then I asked in my sweetest, softest voice: “Is the allowance I sent you last time still holding up?” In an instant, a look of sheer, ugly humiliation flashed across Carter’s face. The chaotic, laughing lab suddenly dropped into dead silence. My mood instantly improved. A genuine smile finally touched my lips. I said: “Babe, once my paycheck from Fashion Week clears, I’ll transfer you a bit more. Just focus on your academics! I have no problem sugar-dicking you for a few more years, so please don’t feel any pressure!” With a girlfriend as wealthy and considerate as me, who cares if Carter finds me embarrassing? What could he do? All he could do was grit his teeth and say: “Thanks, babe.” “I’ve been funding you for years, a little extra is nothing!” I smiled until my eyes crinkled, waved goodbye, and sweetly hung up the phone. The very next second. I wrapped my arms around myself in sheer exhaustion and crouched against the tiled wall of the metro station. I didn’t cry, because I had a commercial shoot in an hour. If my eyes were swollen, the photographer would throw a fit. Pedestrians began flooding into the station, but no one paid me any mind. In a city like Paris, there are far crazier people than me. I was just another ordinary girl in the crowd, having her heart broken by a man. I don’t know exactly when Carter changed. Or when I changed, either. He used to fight the time difference, staying up all night just to hear how my auditions went. Just to be the first one to offer comfort or congratulations. With my softer, understated features, I didn’t have much of an edge in the European market. When I first arrived in Paris, I was rejected at almost every casting call. I barely booked a few minor gigs a month. It was Carter who constantly encouraged me. He even spent hours analyzing the brand identities of luxury fashion houses—things he had zero interest in—just so I could pitch myself better during interviews. Thanks to him, and my deep understanding of the brand’s lore, I landed my first major campaign in a high-end magazine. After that shoot went viral, I finally secured my foothold in Paris. Because of that, I offered to cover all his living expenses so he could do his academic research without any financial stress. In my heart, this career was something we built together. I never imagined that just a few years later. The career I was so fiercely proud of would become a dirty secret he couldn’t bear to mention. And me? I had changed too. I was sharper than before. Maybe even a little… vicious. I knew he was on speakerphone. I knew saying those things would only drive a wedge between us. But I said them anyway. For no other reason than I was just entirely sick of swallowing my pride. I suddenly realized that I had walked right into the toxic relationship trap I used to sneer at. 2 The first time I heard the name Hailey Brooks was six months ago. He told me a “genius” freshman had joined the lab. She had skipped three grades in middle and high school and was only twenty-three, with a limitless future. Unfortunately, she’s purely theoretical, so working with her is a headache, he had said. On the outside, Carter was polite, mild-mannered, and known as a physics prodigy. But only I knew that deep down, he was deeply insecure and terrible at socializing. Carter’s parents divorced when he was young, and he was raised by his grandmother. After high school, he stayed in our hometown and went to the local state college with me. Some people called him hopelessly romantic; others said I was dragging him down. But I knew the truth. He didn’t stay for me. He stayed because the state university offered him a full-ride scholarship and a massive living stipend. It wasn’t until he was specially recruited by an Ivy League university for grad school that he finally got to attend his dream institution. Back then, I was too naive, and my heart bled for him. Every time a social event required networking or mingling, I was the one hyping the crowd, acting as his personal spokesperson. And now… someone else had taken that spot. Gradually, he stopped complaining to me about Hailey Brooks. Instead, he started praising her dedication to her research, saying she wasn’t a slacker like the others. He told me Hailey was bright and bubbly, the absolute joy of the lab. With her around, no matter how grueling the project got, the days felt a little sweeter. As if trying to prove there was absolutely nothing going on between them, Carter shared everything with me. He said they shared a rock-solid, purely revolutionary friendship, entirely devoid of romantic feelings. So, he felt perfectly fine bringing her back to his dorm to watch movies. Or staying up all night talking about their grand ambitions. Or driving two hours through a blinding blizzard just to buy her a bowl of her favorite clam chowder from the coast. I had no idea what was going through Carter’s head when he told me all this. And I had no idea what expression I was supposed to make in response. Aside from mechanically agreeing with him, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Should I be suspicious? But he was telling me every microscopic detail himself. I didn’t even have the energy to be angry. All I could do was watch Hailey Brooks inch her way into his life, piece by piece. She even became super close with our mutual friends. Carter once sighed dramatically and said: “I have a beautiful girlfriend like you, and a soulmate like Hailey who understands my work. My life is perfect. What more could a guy ask for?” The moment those words left his mouth, I knew. Our relationship was bleeding out. 3 When my recent shoots wrapped up, I asked my agency for a three-month leave of absence. My boss, Maria, is a fiery, passionate Spanish woman. She cycles through boyfriends faster than I change my manicures. Every time I see her, there’s a different young, gorgeous guy on her arm. Perhaps sensing my heartbreak, she approved my leave instantly. Maria poured me a glass of whiskey, toying with the champagne roses on her desk. She laughed and said: “Chloe, love doesn’t stay fresh forever. But people can, as long as you swap them out fast enough.” I pretended to sigh with envy, telling her I didn’t have her intoxicating charm. Maria suddenly looked at me, dead serious. “Money buys everything. Modeling is a young woman’s game. Give it one season, and they will forget your face. You know this, Chloe. You are not irreplaceable. There are tens of thousands of girls just like you in Paris.” The fashion industry has never been known for sugar-coating things. But I knew Maria was right. So, I threw the whiskey back in one gulp and changed my leave from three months to thirty days. Carter and I had been together since our junior year of high school. It had been exactly nine years. I needed time to figure out what to do with this relationship. Should I try to save it? But I’m the kind of person who refuses to tolerate dirt in my eyes, and Carter had sprinted past my absolute bottom line. He had buried a thorn deep inside my heart. Tossing and turning in the dead of night, I had hated him, blamed him, and even blamed myself. I wondered if I had flown too far away, giving Carter’s heart the space to wander. So, should I give this relationship one last chance? Carter, are you going to let me down again? 4 I didn’t go back to my hometown. Instead, I flew straight to Boston. The moment he found out I was standing at the campus gates, Carter’s voice was a mix of ecstatic surprise and sheer panic. “Chloe! You didn’t even tell me you were coming! I would have picked you up at the airport!” Under the bright sun, he ran toward me. In a blur, it felt like he was still that teenage boy who lived next door. We hadn’t seen each other in three years, yet it felt like nothing had changed. Just like he was doing right now, holding me tightly, exactly the same way he did the day I left for Europe. And yet, it felt like everything was irrevocably broken. Because a girl with a ponytail popped out from behind him. Hailey smiled, bright and innocent: “Oh my, is the big sister here to check up on us?” Carter loosened his grip, looking back at her with a helpless, fond expression: “Do you think everyone is as petty and jealous as you?” Hailey ignored him, extending a hand toward me: “Hi! You can just call me Hailey, just like Carter does.” “Chloe. Nice to meet you.” I gave her hand a polite, brief shake, my eyes barely lingering on her. “Wow, your skin is flawless, and your makeup is stunning! Not like me. I can’t even tell the difference between eyeshadow and blush.” Hailey looked dramatically devastated. Carter grabbed my luggage cart and chuckled: “Why does a kid like you need makeup? Natural beauty is the best kind.” Hearing that, a glint of smug satisfaction flashed in the girl’s eyes. She tilted her chin up, looking at me expectantly. As if she was waiting for a show to start. I just smiled and didn’t say a word. I had crossed a six-hour time difference and survived an eleven-hour flight. I wasn’t here to play a low-budget game of petty jealousy with an amateur pick-me girl. But Hailey wouldn’t let it go. She kept buzzing around me like a gnat: “Since you’re so gorgeous, what kind of cosmetics do you use?” “Expensive ones.” She was giving me a headache, so I shut her down with two words. Predictably, she froze for a few seconds, all the color draining from her face. Tears instantly welled up in her eyes. She bit her lip, completely silent. It wasn’t until Carter, walking ahead with the luggage, noticed the silence that she forced a watery smile: “Carter, I still have some data to run in the lab. I’m gonna head out.” “Hailey! What’s wrong? Hey, don’t cry!” Carter didn’t let her leave. He jogged back and grabbed her by the wrist. His eyes were overflowing with unchecked heartbreak. “You idiot, why are you crying again?” Hailey stopped holding back and buried her face in Carter’s chest, sobbing loudly: “I’m just being too sensitive! When she said that, I thought she was mocking me for growing up poor!” “You are being too sensitive,” I said coldly, standing off to the side, watching these two star-crossed lovers embrace. Carter snapped. He shielded the crying girl in his arms and glared at me fiercely: “Chloe, what is wrong with you? Apologize to Hailey right now!” I pointed to myself, staring at Carter in total disbelief. “Me? Apologize?” Hailey perfectly timed her intervention to play the peacemaker: “It’s not her fault! It’s my own insecurities. I always thought that if I studied hard enough, I could cross class boundaries and change my fate. But at the end of the day, I’m just a small-town scholarship kid. I don’t make the kind of money a model does, and I can’t afford expensive makeup. Whatever, let’s just forget it! Please don’t be mad, Chloe! You haven’t seen Carter’s apartment yet, have you? Come on, I’ll show you the way!” I watched her performance with zero expression. Then, I reached out and grabbed her wrist. “A small-town scholarship kid… who can afford to wear a $4,000 Cartier bracelet?” “Th… this was a birthday present Carter gave me last month… I had no idea it was so expensive! Carter, I’m giving this back to you right now!” Hailey looked utterly panicked, her hands trembling as she fumbled with the clasp. But she miraculously just couldn’t seem to get it off. Ah. So that was it. I looked up at the sky and let out a laugh of pure, unadulterated relief. No wonder Carter asked to borrow $7,000 from me last month. It was to buy his precious junior a luxury birthday present. We had dated for nine years. The most he ever bought me were cheap stuffed animals and trinkets. I knew he came from nothing, so I never, ever demanded material things from him. I never imagined he would buy another woman a luxury bracelet. Using my money. “Chloe, when did you become so bitter and vicious?” “Don’t blame her, Carter. It’s all my fault.” The two of them bounced lines off each other like actors in a soap opera, clinging to each other right in front of my face. I was so exhausted. My brain was completely numb. My only coherent thought was— Thank God I skipped the in-flight meal. Because otherwise, I would be violently throwing up on the pavement right now. I shook my head, grabbed the handle of my suitcase, and turned to walk away without a shred of hesitation. Before I left, I looked at Carter. “We’re breaking up. Make sure you pay me back.” Instantly, it was like a bucket of ice water hit him. He shoved the girl in his arms away. His voice trembled as he asked me why I was abandoning him. The girl’s crying hitched, and she began mumbling incoherently. “I’m dragging you down.” “I’m so sorry.” “I should just die.” … I had absolutely zero interest in hearing the rest. I picked up my pace and walked away. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Carter eventually chose Hailey. Then, he yelled at my retreating back: “I’ll come find you later to calm you down!” Whatever connection Carter and I used to share was entirely dead. He actually thought my breakup was just me throwing a little tantrum. He thought he could just give me a piece of candy, coax me a bit, and I’d come running back. Honestly, the realization that he didn’t know me at all hurt more than the fact that he fell for someone else. It wasn’t Carter who was precious to me. It was the nine years I had invested.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “446007”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel