After my mother slapped me twice across the face for using one extra sanitary pad, I swore on my life that I would never be poor again. So, when I secured a wealthy benefactor—Julian Vance—I used every trick in the book to chase away all the other little birds in his golden cage. Everyone thought I was going to be the future Mrs. Vance. At parties, people would even tease me: “I heard Julian dropped an absolute fortune on a flawless diamond ring at the auction last night.” The next second, that very ring, bursting with blinding fire, was gently slipped onto my finger by Julian himself. My heart pounded like a drum in my chest. Just as I thought I had finally gotten everything I ever wanted, Julian’s voice rang out: “A parting gift. Do you like it?” I looked up, stunned. The heavy oak doors of the private club swung open, and a young, unfamiliar girl walked in, looking timid and frail. Julian set his cigar down in the crystal ashtray. “I’m getting married, Chloe. Tell me what else you want. Let’s part on good terms.” I sized the girl up. A white dress, innocent, looking so incredibly pitiful. But her ‘no-makeup’ makeup look featured a tightline eyeliner that was drawn with more expert precision than anyone else’s. So, I swallowed the words that were about to spill from my mouth—the mansion, the sports car, the massive cash payout. I forced a single, barely-there tear to well up in my eye, slipped the dazzling diamond off my finger, and gently set it on the mahogany table: “Only a bride needs a diamond ring. Save it for her.” Catching the fleeting flash of hesitation in his eyes, I smiled. “Happy wedding, Julian.” Do you know what’s far more lethal than an innocent, pure little flower? A gold digger’s genuine heartbreak. … It seemed no one expected my reaction. The entire room went dead silent. Julian casually lit a cigarette, his tone laced with something unfamiliar. “Chloe, I thought you loved money more than anything.” Through the haze of the smoke, my mind drifted back to the year I first met Julian. I had just run away from my toxic home, but even after begging and borrowing from everyone I knew, I couldn’t scrape together enough for my college tuition. I was squatting outside the campus gates, crying my eyes out. He had been invited to give a guest lecture. As he walked past, he reached out with one hand and effortlessly pulled me to my feet. When I looked up, I met his smiling eyes. I didn’t tell him about my gambling-addict father, my cowardly mother, or my greedy, money-grubbing younger brother. It was too cliché. Too pathetic. I only said three words. “I want money.” He smiled, exactly like he had just now. “Money is the only thing I can give you.” He slipped a check into my bag. At the same time, Julian waved to the girl standing by the door. “Come here, Rosie. Sit next to me.” I glanced at the number of zeros on the check. The tiny bit of tenderness I felt was instantly drowned out by a sharp wave of bitterness. He always called me by my full name. But for Rosie, he used a sweet nickname. Seeing how intimately he looked at her, the crowd in the room immediately started jeering and cheering. “First time meeting the crew! Shouldn’t you toast your predecessor?” Rosie’s voice was incredibly soft. “Julian, I don’t know how to drink…” “I heard Chloe is great at holding her liquor. Could she drink it for me?” The way she held the shot glass was incredibly clumsy, almost amateurish. For a split second, I even doubted myself—maybe I had misjudged her? But the moment those words left her mouth, all my doubts vanished. This kind of cheap, manipulative tactic? Among all of Julian’s past mistresses, it wouldn’t even rank in the top ten. Julian didn’t answer her. He just tilted his chin toward me. But he knew perfectly well that I had been hospitalized just last month for a severe stomach ulcer. In the hospital, Julian’s tone had been full of irritation, yet his eyes held a rare tenderness: “You think you’re so tough? You don’t need to take shots for me at dinners anymore.” I had thought that was his unspoken way of showing he cared. Now, I stared at the hard liquor in front of me. One glass wouldn’t kill my stomach. The silence dragged on. Just as the crowd thought I was going to embarrass Julian and refuse… I smiled. “I’ll drink it for her. Consider it a toast to thank Julian for taking such good care of me all these years.” With that, I grabbed the entire carafe of liquor and, under Julian’s shocked gaze, downed the whole thing in one breath. When I finally pulled the carafe away, Julian frowned deeply and snatched it out of my hand. His voice carried a frantic urgency I had never heard before: “Do you want to destroy your stomach?! Go throw it up!” “Chloe, would you literally die for a little bit of cash?!” I smiled and gently brushed his hand away. I pulled the check he had just given me out of my designer bag. Riiiiip. Millions of dollars, torn in half. Then into quarters. And then dropped onto the floor like garbage. “Julian, after being with you all these years, I’ve made more than enough.” “The reason I stayed… wasn’t for the money.” If it wasn’t for the money, then what was it for? The entire room fell into a stunned silence. No one dared to ask. Even Julian pressed his lips into a tight, hard line. In our five years together, everyone in Manhattan’s elite circle knew how obsessed I was with money. Julian used to pinch my cheek and laugh: “Chloe, are you a dragon hoarding gold? You only take, you never give.” But he was also the one who spoiled me the most. An endless river of designer bags and jewelry flowed to my door. He even transferred the deed of the luxury penthouse in Tribeca, the one I was living in, entirely into my name. No one had ever treated me so well. I thought it meant his heart was truly mine. Looking back now, I guess all of those things were just birdseed to him. Carelessly tossed to a pet bird to keep it entertained. Completely worthless to a man of his stature. Just as Julian opened his mouth to speak… Rosie, sitting beside him, suddenly teared up. “Julian, it’s so stuffy in here. Could you take me outside for some fresh air?” The hesitation in Julian’s eyes vanished. He scooped Rosie up into his arms effortlessly. I watched his retreating back, the sour, burning pain in my chest boiling over again. The night wind in New York was biting cold. Sitting in the back of an Uber, I texted the details of the penthouse to my real estate broker. Hearing that I needed an expedited sale, the broker naturally asked why. I didn’t rush to reply, because a bank notification popped up on my screen. It was from Julian. He didn’t send a message, but he wired me exactly double the amount of the check I had torn up. I accepted it without a shred of guilt. Since the love was gone, he damn well owed me the money. When I pushed the door of the penthouse open, I kept my movements light. The two people moving on the sofa obviously didn’t hear me. Julian’s face was filled with undisguised pleasure as he leaned down and whispered softly into the girl’s ear. Julian had been surrounded by sycophants since he was a child. In bed, he was certainly not the type to prioritize anyone else’s comfort. He always took exactly what he wanted. I never had the right to say no. Yet, when Rosie pushed him away with tear-filled eyes, he simply frowned, holding back his own desires. He even whispered softly, coaxing her. I let out a self-deprecating laugh and quietly stepped back out the front door, pulling it shut. Leaning my back against the heavy wooden door, the muffled sounds from inside pierced my ears, stabbing into my heart like a needle, over and over. I counted the minutes. I calculated. I wondered how many more zeros I could squeeze out of him. When the storm finally settled, Julian opened the door. The scratch marks on his abs were glaringly obvious. “Did I interrupt you two?” Hearing my incredibly flat, emotionless tone, Julian unconsciously furrowed his brow. After all, the woman who used to whine and fight for his attention in front of his other mistresses was me. “Rosie’s constitution is weak. This place is close to Mount Sinai Hospital. You need to move out.” My hands instinctively clenched into tight fists. I had once, half-jokingly, revealed a tiny bit of my horrific family background to Julian. Back then, his tone had been utterly dismissive: “Chloe, I hate it when people play the victim card in front of me.” But on my twenty-third birthday, he was also the one who handed me the keys to this exact apartment. “Just because a person is born without a home, doesn’t mean they can’t give themselves one in the long future ahead.” But now, he was taking this home and giving it to another woman. And all I could do was smile and say, “Okay.” Rosie, wrapped in Julian’s suit jacket, blushed furiously. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Chloe. I didn’t know this was your place.” I glanced at the shoe cabinet, overflowing with my designer heels, and then at the hallway, where a framed photo of Julian and me hung on the wall. “Your eyesight must be terrible, Ms. Rosie.” Rosie’s eyes instantly filled with tears. The next second, Julian gently pulled her into his arms. His tone was freezing cold: “A young girl throws a minor tantrum and you have to be so vindictive? Chloe, remember your place.” “Apologize.” For years, I had used Julian’s indulgence as my shield, acting like the queen of his harem. This was the very first time he had ever spoken to me in this tone for another woman. I took a deep breath and flashed a bright smile. “I apologize, Ms. Rosie.” “I’ll go pack my things right now so I don’t disturb you.” He clearly didn’t expect me to cave so easily. The emotions in Julian’s eyes flickered and darkened. “Chloe, I didn’t say you had to leave.” My heart gave a violent, involuntary lurch. But his next sentence was: “Rosie is going to rest here for a few days to recover. You stay and take care of her.” A flash of triumph crossed Rosie’s eyes. “Ms. Chloe, I’ll be in your care.” I didn’t say a word. I simply raised my hand and reached toward her. Rosie’s entire body stiffened. Even Julian thought I was going to hit her, instinctively moving to block my hand. But I just gently brushed my fingers against the diamond studs in her ears. “These diamonds cost around twenty grand. They’re the most expensive pair on my vanity.” “You have great taste, Ms. Rosie.” If you’re going to play the innocent, pure virgin, you better remember to hide your greedy little fox tail. Rosie’s smile froze on her face. She went visibly pale. Julian frowned deeply. For the first time, a flicker of genuine suspicion appeared in his eyes as he looked at her. “I’m sorry, Ms. Chloe! I just grabbed them without thinking…” I didn’t give her a chance to explain. I swiftly walked into the master bedroom and cleared out everything that belonged to me. “The master bedroom is all yours. I put fresh sheets and a new duvet on the bed.” I glanced pointedly at her hands: “Your hands are so soft and perfectly manicured. I doubt you even know how to make a bed anyway.” Julian didn’t say a word. He was gently tapping his finger against the table—his signature habit when he was deep in thought. Aside from me, he had never interacted with a truly destitute person in his entire life. Right now, he was probably realizing, in hindsight, that a genuinely poor, stubbornly innocent girl who had supposedly worked hard her whole life… Would never have hands completely free of calluses. After all, he used to love rubbing the calluses on my palms, feigning disgust but never letting go: “Chloe, your hands are rougher than my grandmother’s.” But he was also the one who arranged for regular deliveries of ultra-expensive, luxury hand creams to my door. Julian suddenly spoke up: “I’ll buy the apartment from you at double the market rate. I’ll wire the money immediately.” “Chloe, stop throwing a tantrum.” Counting the zeros on the wire transfer notification that popped up, I smiled. But the satisfaction in my heart felt incredibly hollow. After packing my bags, I went into the kitchen to make some hangover soup. The sound of the shower running in the bathroom echoed through the apartment. I turned around. Rosie was standing right behind me, her face completely stripped of its innocent facade. She looked sinister. “Chloe, do you think you’re really that clever?” I discreetly glanced at the corner of the kitchen, right at the hidden camera I had installed months ago, and said nothing. She was young. She didn’t understand that in our line of work, the most crucial rule is leaving undeniable evidence. The very day this apartment was transferred to my name, I had it wired with 360-degree, blind-spot-free hidden cameras. Seeing my silence, the provocation in Rosie’s eyes intensified: “I know you chased away a lot of his other women, but so what?” “At the end of the day, the one who gets to be Mrs. Vance is me.” “Chloe, you must really hate me, don’t you?” I smoothly turned off the burner on the stove. “I do.” She clearly hadn’t expected such a blunt answer. Rosie blinked, taken aback. I slightly raised my voice, ensuring the hidden microphone would pick it up perfectly: “He doesn’t like anything too sour, so you have to add extra honey to his hangover soup.” “He prefers strawberry-flavored, ultra-thin condoms. His favorite position is…” Rosie’s face turned uglier with every word I spoke, while my tone struck the perfect balance of heartbreaking resignation: “Mrs. Vance… from now on, please take good care of him.” Noticing the shower water had stopped running, I poured the hangover soup into a bowl and held it out to her. Right at that exact moment, Rosie’s expression drastically changed. She reached out and violently grabbed my arm! During the struggle, she intentionally threw herself backward, crashing heavily onto the floor and letting out a fragile, agonizing scream. And the bowl of boiling-hot hangover soup, due to her pulling my arm, spilled entirely all over me! Heavy, hurried footsteps approached instantly. Julian marched into the kitchen, his brow deeply furrowed. The scalding liquid burned my arm, and a fiery, agonizing pain flared up immediately. In that moment, I suddenly found myself desperately curious. Five years of deep, shared history… versus this yellow-haired little brat he had known for less than two months. Who would he choose? The next second, Julian gently scooped Rosie up from the floor, his eyes brimming with absolute heartache. When he looked at me, his gaze was so freezing and unfamiliar it sent shivers down my spine. “Chloe, have I spoiled you too much over the years?” “Is that why you’ve forgotten your place and think you can act like a violent psycho?” But Rosie hadn’t even said a single word yet. The scenario I had imagined in my head—pulling out the camera footage, exposing her pathetic framing attempt—suddenly felt entirely pointless. All the fight drained out of me. Because she didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to say a single word. And Julian already believed her. I suddenly felt incredibly ridiculous. So I gave a genuine smile, even though a tear slipped unconsciously from the corner of my eye. “You’re right. I forgot my place.” “It won’t happen again.” Because, in that exact moment, I suddenly realized I didn’t want an “again” with him. A flash of unreadable emotion crossed Julian’s eyes. He didn’t reply. He just carried Rosie out of the kitchen to tend to a bruise on her leg that was barely even visible. It was as if he was completely blind to the horrifying, massive burn blistering across my arm. I let out a heavy sigh. Little girls really don’t know how to control their strength. Thank god I turned the stove off early. I just didn’t understand why a bowl of hot soup felt like it had been poured directly onto my heart. It burned. And it ached so badly. After cleaning up the kitchen and walking out, there was a knock at the front door. It was Julian’s assistant, delivering medical supplies. Inside the bag, several tubes of expensive burn ointment caught my eye. I instinctively reached out to take them, but the assistant pulled the bag away: “I apologize, Ms. Chloe. These are all for Ms. Rosie.” “Mr. Vance said Ms. Rosie got splashed by some of the hot soup, and he wanted to prevent any burn marks.” I awkwardly pulled my hand back. “Oh, sorry. Go right ahead.” Back in the guest bedroom, I pulled out my phone and sent a confirmation text to my broker. The apartment was gone, the car was sold. There was absolutely nothing left for me to be nostalgic about in this city. I sent a message to an international education consultant I had spoken with a long time ago. Since my budget was incredibly high, the consultant confirmed everything at lightning speed. Throughout my entire college experience, I was constantly running myself ragged just to survive. I never got to experience the freedom or joy of being a normal student. I was so exhausted I almost forgot… I was still young. I still had time to live a life for myself. The next morning, I was violently awakened by an agonizing, tearing pain in my scalp. I snapped my eyes open! After years of not seeing him, my biological father’s nightmarish face was hovering inches from mine, looking more terrifying than a demon. He had a death grip on my hair, violently yanking me out of bed. “You little bitch! I wondered where you ran off to all these years!” “Turns out you’re just out here being a rich man’s whore?! Have you got no shame?!” I struggled in absolute, primal terror. The horrifying memories of almost being sold off to a random villager for a bride price flooded back into my mind. “Let me go!” As my vision cleared, I spotted a familiar figure standing by the bedroom door. I instinctively screamed for help: “Julian! Save me! Please…” But the next second, the man simply pulled out a cigarette and lit it casually: “Chloe, you made Rosie cry so hard yesterday. You need to be taught a lesson.” My father’s face twisted into an even more grotesque sneer: “You stupid bitch, how do you think I found you?” “Look at how filthy and ruined you are! I wouldn’t even have the face to trade you for a dowry now!” Through the swirling cigarette smoke, Julian’s face blurred, making it impossible for me to read his expression. Was the fleeting flash of hesitation on his face real, or just my imagination? Rosie peeked her head out from behind Julian’s back. “Chloe, no matter what happens, a person can’t just abandon their own biological father!” “I had to go through so much trouble to track him down and bring him here for you.” As soon as she finished speaking, the bedroom door slammed shut with a heavy THUD. In the exact moment that total despair threatened to swallow me whole, I reached my hand back, slipped it under my pillow, and pulled out a long, serrated survival knife. Just like I had done in countless midnight terrors, I pressed the blade firmly and violently against his throat. The man’s eyes widened in sheer, pathetic terror. His body, hollowed out by years of cheap alcohol and chain-smoking, was absolutely no match for the physical strength I had intentionally built up over the years. When the police dragged him away in handcuffs, I suddenly had a profound realization. The “home” I had spent years desperately searching for, the tiny scraps of tenderness I had clung to, the nightmares I had constantly tried to outrun… They really weren’t as terrifying or impossible to overcome as I thought. That very night, I boarded a flight to a foreign country. But before I left, I made sure to leave Julian a very generous parting gift. I cast the hidden camera footage directly to the massive flat-screen TV in the living room, and left a detailed dossier on Rosie’s true identity—which I had paid private investigators a small fortune to compile—sitting dead center on the coffee table. Seeing the paused video frame on the TV, Julian frowned, confused. He instinctively reached for the remote to hit play. Beside him, Rosie let out a blood-curdling scream: “No! Don’t…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574795”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On my wedding day, the limousine dropped me—the groom—off at the banquet hall’s service entrance, right next to the dumpsters. Sarah opened my door and gave the order like it was second nature. “You go in through the back. I’ll take Liam through the front doors. We can’t let our coworkers see us arriving together.” Before I could even respond, she sped off with Liam in the passenger seat, leaving me standing completely alone in a puddle of dirty water. This was the ninety-ninth time Sarah had abandoned me to “maintain professional boundaries.” We had been dating in secret for eight years. She always said an office romance would ruin her professional reputation as an executive, so she constantly used her male best friend, Liam, as her shield. When the company went on a retreat, she had Liam ride shotgun in her car, while I was forced to take a ten-hour bus ride just to catch up with them. When our team landed a massive project, she promoted Liam—who was on my team—making him my boss, even though I had the most seniority. Even on the wedding invitations, it was Liam’s name printed next to hers. Eight years together, and I was still kept entirely in the shadows. I always told myself she was just doing what she had to do for her career. But when I finally navigated through the filthy service corridor and slipped into the hall five minutes before the ceremony started… I saw her walking down the aisle, her arm linked with Liam’s, stepping up to the altar that was supposed to be mine. I heard two simultaneous “I do’s” echo through the room, followed by the cheers of our coworkers. “Oh my god, my favorite office ship finally sailed!” In that moment, everything finally became clear. For eight years, she wasn’t trying to maintain professional boundaries. The only person she was trying to keep at a distance was me. If that’s what she wanted, fine. I was done being the secret. I was officially bowing out of this humiliating charade. The music swelled again, and the officiant announced it was time to exchange rings. Sarah caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of her eye. She awkwardly turned her body, subtly holding out her hand to pass me the ring so I could step in. I just smiled and stepped back, dodging her outstretched hand. “No need to hide anymore. Go ahead and get married.” … My voice was loud. Loud enough for every coworker in the front rows to hear clearly. The room went dead silent. Then, Sarah’s gentle voice broke the tension, but she was speaking to Liam. “Liam, are you nervous? Come here, let me give you a hug.” She casually pulled her hand back and wrapped her arms warmly around him. It was as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t heard a single word I said. As if I didn’t even exist. A familiar, crushing sense of helplessness washed over me. She was treating me like I was invisible again. Sarah always told me we had to act distant in front of our coworkers. So, unless it was strictly about work, she intentionally ignored everything I said. And then she would use those moments as an excuse to dote on Liam. When I was running late and begged her to hold the elevator, she asked Liam if the AC was too cold for him and immediately hit the “close door” button. When I had a terrible stomachache and asked her to grab me some warm water, she asked Liam if he was too hot and ordered iced coffees for the whole team. When it was pouring rain and I asked for a ride home, she asked Liam if he forgot his umbrella and offered him the passenger seat, driving in the complete opposite direction of my apartment just to drop him off. Over time, our coworkers learned from her example and started treating me like I was invisible too. I thought I had gotten used to being ignored and forgotten. But seeing her intimately hugging Liam in front of everyone, my chest still tightened with a suffocating, bitter ache. The difference between loving someone and not loving someone is just too obvious. Someone let out a snicker, and soon, a ripple of quiet, mocking laughter spread through the coworkers. “Look, that guy is playing the tragic hero again. He even dressed up like a groom. Does he really think Sarah would marry him?” “Can’t he see Sarah is annoyed by him? She literally pushed the wedding up just to avoid him. I can’t believe he’s been desperately simping after her for eight years.” “Saying something so weird at Liam’s wedding… he’s just trying to cause drama so he can sneak his way in as the other man!” Hearing the whispers escalating into cruel rumors, Liam waved his hands, playing the peacemaker. “Guys, don’t talk about Ethan like that. He’s just trying to lighten the mood. He didn’t mean anything by it.” His vague defense only seemed to confirm my guilt, sparking another wave of malicious mockery. Sarah finally frowned. She shot them a warning look, her tone absolute and commanding. “Watch what you say. You’re going to upset Liam.” With that, she turned her attention entirely back to him, adjusting his bowtie, completely refusing to spare me a single glance. The coworkers immediately erupted into cheers of “Awww, they’re so cute!” A sudden, overwhelming sense of humiliation crashed down on me. When I was being mocked, she didn’t care. When our coworkers spread lies about me, she didn’t defend me. But the moment Liam said a single sentence, her first instinct was to protect his feelings. She even personally silenced the room for him. It made my decision to end things feel like exactly what they said it was—a pathetic, one-man show. The foul smell of the dumpsters clinging to my clothes was a harsh reminder of how pathetic I looked. Feeling utterly humiliated, I took off the tuxedo jacket and walked out of the banquet hall without looking back. But the moment I stepped outside and saw the massive digital billboard by the entrance, it felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. My heart froze completely. This was the exact digital display package I had shown Sarah when we were planning the wedding. It cost ten thousand dollars to rent the screen for the day. It could cycle through two thousand photos on a continuous loop. At the time, she told me it was too flashy, too expensive, a complete waste of money. But now, she was using it to display hundreds of intimate photos of her and Liam for the entire world to see. So this was the real reason she made me use the service entrance. It wasn’t to maintain professional boundaries. It was so she could show off. When it came to Liam, she couldn’t bear to hide him in the shadows. I averted my eyes, hailed a cab, and went straight to a hotel. As soon as I turned my phone on, notifications from Sarah flooded the screen. [We were just keeping up appearances. Stop acting like a child.] [You were way too emotional today. You almost ruined eight years of hard work.] [Go into the company group chat, send a virtual gift card, and apologize. Don’t make things awkward for everyone.] It was rare for her to send so many messages at once, but every single word was a demand for me to submit. A wave of absolute absurdity washed over me. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. [Who exactly is acting like a child?] [When you gave my wedding to Liam, did you care if it made things awkward for me?] [When they were humiliating me, why didn’t you care that I was the one being embarrassed?] [Sarah, whose side are you actually on?] The chat went quiet for a few seconds before she replied: [I’m on the side of the big picture. It was all for the sake of our professional reputation.] I let out a bitter laugh and typed back, [And what if I want to go public right now?] The next second, Sarah sent a full sixty-second voice memo. Her tone was more strained and anxious than I had ever heard it. “Ethan, don’t do something stupid.” “You know everyone thinks Liam is the groom now. If you suddenly go public, you’re just going to humiliate him…” I stopped listening. It felt like a massive knot was lodged in my throat. I couldn’t breathe. She was willing to sacrifice my feelings for “the big picture,” but the “big picture” could instantly take a backseat if Liam’s ego was at stake. She wasn’t blind to my humiliation. She just weighed the damage and decided I mattered less. I was always going to be the acceptable casualty. While I sat there numb, several long voice memos popped up. I didn’t listen to them. I just typed out a few heavy words. [I’m not apologizing to the people who insulted me. If you want to keep your professional boundaries, then keep them forever.] [We’re done…] Before I could even finish typing the sentence, a bank notification slashed across my screen. [Your account ending in 0520 has been debited $10,000…] The money was withdrawn using the joint expense feature I shared with Sarah. Her text immediately followed: [I know you’re too proud and stubborn to do it yourself, so I made an exception and handled it for you. There won’t be a next time.] She had just sent dozens of high-value gift cards to the company group chat, with the memo stating it was an apology from me. This was the first time in eight years she hadn’t maintained “professional boundaries,” and all it did was make me feel incredibly degraded. My hands were shaking as I typed, [Sarah, do you even remember what that money was for?] She didn’t reply. I stubbornly called her. The phone rang for a long time. Just as I thought she was going to ignore it, Liam’s voice suddenly echoed through the speaker. “I won the bet! See? I told you Ethan is too stubborn to ever apologize easily!” Sarah laughed indulgently. “Alright, you win. The gift cards are my payout to you. That should be enough for you to buy those sneakers you’ve been whining about for a month, right?” Liam hummed happily, though a hint of nervousness crept into his voice. “You don’t think Ethan will get mad and leave when he finds out? I mean… that was the down payment you guys saved for your house.” Sarah paused for two seconds. “He won’t.” “This is how we’ve done things for the last eight years. He can’t live without me.” Her absolute certainty strangled the questions right in my throat. My eyes burned with unshed tears. So, eight years of silently swallowing my pride hadn’t earned me love. It just made me the pathetic punchline in their little betting games. The down payment she just lost to him was the money I had painstakingly saved for the house I had been dreaming of. I remembered when Sarah dragged me through every room of the model home, her eyes shining with excitement as she planned our future. This will be the master bedroom. That one will be the nursery. The kitchen has to be open-concept, so I can see you while I cook. That would make me so happy. She had promised, “You’ve suffered for so many years for me. I swear I’m going to give you the most beautiful wedding and the warmest home!” Now, the wedding was given to Liam. And the home was gambled away to Liam. The money left in the account wasn’t enough to fund a future with Sarah anymore. But it was more than enough to buy a ticket out of here. I hung up the phone, drafted a formal resignation letter to HR, and accepted the job offer back in my home state. I was officially withdrawing from her future. I went back to the apartment and threw the filthy tuxedo into the trash. Then, I started packing. Sarah had said we needed to maintain boundaries everywhere, even at home. For eight years, we slept in separate rooms. My bedroom was a converted, windowless storage closet. None of my belongings were allowed to cross the threshold of that room. Nothing was allowed to be a matching pair with hers. Even on our anniversary, when I bought us matching coffee mugs as a gift… She had screamed at me for trying to ruin everything she had worked for and threw them straight into the garbage. We never celebrated an anniversary again. Smiling bitterly, I swept all the personal items crammed into the small closet into a trash bag. I only packed the absolute essentials. Eight years of my life, packed away into a single small suitcase. Just as I was about to leave, Sarah walked through the front door with Liam right behind her. When she saw my packed suitcase, she paused. Then, an approving smile spread across her face. “You’re finally acting mature.” I froze. “What does that mean?” Liam stepped out from behind her, casually explaining. “Oh, the team was insisting we keep the party going here at the house until the ‘wedding night’ is over.” “But don’t worry, Ethan! Sarah and I are just platonic besties. I’m just sleeping here for one night. We won’t do anything crazy!” Seeing the indulgent look on Sarah’s face, my throat went completely dry. So, she thought I had packed my bags to play along with their charade and spend the night somewhere else. Maintaining “boundaries” to the point where I was giving up my own wedding night. How pathetic. I let out a soft laugh and nodded indifferently. “Sure. I’ll go stay somewhere else.” Sarah seemed surprised by how easy I was being. She visibly relaxed, reaching out to gently cup my cheek. “Be a good boy. It’s just for one night.” “Once we fool the coworkers, you can move back in, and we can have a private ceremony just for us…” I took two steps back, cutting her off. “You misunderstand. I mean I’m moving out permanently.” “Sarah, we’re done.” Her brow furrowed deeply, and she opened her mouth to speak. But the mocking laughter of our coworkers drifting in from the hallway beat her to it. “A breakup? Is he seriously still trying to spread rumors that he’s Sarah’s boyfriend?” “This is hilarious. Does he not realize Liam and Sarah are legally married now?” The moment the words left their mouths, I looked at Sarah in absolute shock. A flash of panic crossed her eyes, but she didn’t say a single word to clarify. It was obvious they were telling the truth. My knuckles turned white. A tear slipped down my cheek as I let out a broken laugh. “You got the marriage license?” “You actually married him, and you call this ‘maintaining professional boundaries’?!” Everyone’s eyes immediately locked onto Sarah. Murmurs of doubt began to ripple through the crowd. “He sounds so convinced… is it possible Liam is actually the other man?” Sarah’s jaw clenched. Seeing the color drain from Liam’s face, she snapped instantly. “What are you talking about?! Liam is my legal, rightful husband.” “If you keep spreading these insane rumors, I will have you arrested for harassment and defamation!” “I’ll let the trespassing slide, but right now, you need to get out!” The freezing glare in her eyes stabbed into my heart like a dagger. It severed the absolute last thread of warmth I held for her. I closed my eyes, pulled the engagement ring I always kept hidden in my pocket, and threw it at her. “Fine. I’m leaving.” Getting out of that suffocating apartment, I canceled my train ticket. I booked the next available flight and went straight to the airport. I didn’t want to spend another second in this humiliating city. My phone vibrated constantly the whole way there. It was a mix of the company group chat blowing up and messages from Sarah. Like a glutton for punishment, I opened the group chat. It was flooded with photos. Every single one was a sweet, intimate moment between Sarah and Liam. It was only then that I realized she really had taken incredible care of him. The sneakers on his feet were the limited-edition ones I had wanted for months. The watch on his wrist was the vintage piece my late father-in-law explicitly said he wanted to pass down to his son-in-law. Even the wedding ring on his finger was a perfect, tailored fit. Everything I had ever hoped for had already been handed over to a much more “suitable” replacement under her careful direction. I opened Sarah’s private chat. No apologies. No comfort. Just a few dismissive explanations and demands. [They were getting too suspicious. They demanded to see the marriage certificate. Signing it was just a temporary fix.] [I booked a private banquet hall for tomorrow. It’ll just be the two of us. Be ready.] [Be a good boy. I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that breakup nonsense. Stop treating marriage like a game.] My stomach violently churned. The manipulative words I had spent years getting used to now just made me feel sick. Who exactly was treating marriage like a game here? Swapping grooms like it meant nothing. Signing a legal marriage certificate like it meant nothing. I desperately wanted to scream at her: Why did our private wedding suddenly require a third party who needed “boundaries”? If you had no problem rejecting me a thousand times, why couldn’t you say no to him? I typed the words out, then deleted them. In the end, I didn’t send anything. When you’ve truly decided to leave, you don’t even have the energy to listen to the excuses anymore. Just as I was about to close the chat, Sarah sent a single question mark. [Did you contact HR?] I paused. She couldn’t wait for a text and called me immediately. My finger hovered over the screen for a long time before I finally answered. Before I could even say, “I quit,” her heavy sigh cut me off. She sounded incredibly exasperated. “I know you’ve had to swallow a lot of pride over the last eight years, but you can’t abuse company procedures for personal revenge.” “I know you lead the team that closed the recent project, but your official title is still too junior. If you aggressively try to fight Liam for the manager position right now, people are going to gossip.” “I already gave HR the order. Liam is getting the promotion. I’m transferring you to the Northern branch for a few months to build up your resume. When you get back, I’ll promote you, okay?” Her voice was as soft and coaxing as ever, but it felt like a bucket of liquid nitrogen dumped over my head. She didn’t call because she saw my resignation letter and wanted me to stay. She hadn’t even bothered to read the paperwork. She just assumed I was trying to steal Liam’s promotion. And to protect him, she was going to exile me thousands of miles away to the Northern branch. My heart was already completely numb. I gave a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. “Okay.” The rest of her persuasive speech died on her tongue. She seemed surprised that I was being so obedient this time. After a long pause, she squeezed out a stiff, “Have a safe trip.” I hung up the phone just as a notification from HR popped up confirming my resignation had been approved. She must have signed it without even glancing at the document. The boarding announcement echoed through the terminal. I grabbed my suitcase and resolutely walked through the gate. My path forward was definitely going to be much smoother without her. The next day, the sun was high in the sky by the time Sarah woke up. She felt an inexplicable, hollow ache in her chest, but she brushed it off as a hangover from the night before. Checking the time, she quickly got dressed and drove to the private banquet hall she had booked. Since it was entirely private, there was only the photographer and the officiant inside. She didn’t think much of it. She assumed I was just running late. But ten minutes before the ceremony was scheduled to begin, I still wasn’t there. When the start time passed, I still hadn’t shown up. Even when the couple booked for the next time slot arrived to hurry them out, there was still no sign of me. The anxiety twisting in Sarah’s stomach grew violently. Remembering the paperwork from last night, she frantically called HR. “Where the hell is Ethan? His transfer orders aren’t supposed to take effect until next week!” The HR director hesitated before answering: “What transfer orders? Ethan resigned last night!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574794”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 My heartbeat was unnaturally steady. It was almost inhuman. Whether I was sleeping, running a fever, or losing blood, my heart rate barely fluctuated. At eighteen, I was brought into the Vanguard Medical Institute by the Vance family, confined to the climate-controlled penthouse suite. Not because Elias Vance loved me. But because the one-of-a-kind neuro-bionic heart in his chest needed my heartbeat as its source frequency to calibrate. If I was steady, he lived. If my heart raced, he died. Three months ago, a nurse accidentally peeled off one of my biosensor patches. Five minutes later, half a world away, Elias’s heart stopped. The next day, the subcontracting medical firm went bankrupt, and every staff member involved was permanently blacklisted from the industry. From then on, even the elevator chimes on the top floor were muted. That was, until Elias flew to Geneva for a corporate merger, and his fiancée, Vanessa Sterling, took over the institute. She flipped through my nine-figure annual medical expenses and sneered. “The Vance family is paying hundreds of millions a year just to keep a useless, breathing vegetable alive?” She ripped off my biosensor patches, yanked out my sync cables, and shoved me onto a treadmill. “Six miles. You aren’t going back to the penthouse until you finish.” I gripped the handrails, my heartbeat racing wildly for the first time in my life, pounding so hard it felt like my ribs would shatter. The moment the alarm blared, she slammed the mute button. She had no idea. Twelve time zones away, Elias’s bionic heart was spiraling out of control right along with mine. Within three seconds, the treadmill belt accelerated from a slow walk to a full sprint. Two security guards grabbed my arms, pinning me to the handrails so I couldn’t step off. The skin on my chest, where the sensor patches had been violently ripped away, burned like fire. “Turn the speed up.” Vanessa stood outside the glass wall, arms crossed, watching the show. A nurse turned pale. “Ms. Sterling, she can’t handle strenuous exercise—” “The Vance family spends a fortune keeping this heartbeat alive. Let’s see just how precious it really is.” The speed cranked up to a level ten. My knees smashed against the edge of the belt. My vision went black. The main alarms shattered the silence. [Warning: Heart rate anomalous. Source frequency unstable. Remote sync critical.] I gripped the rails, my knuckles turning white, my voice torn apart by my gasping breath. “You can’t… you can’t disconnect the sync cables.” Vanessa walked in and leaned close to my face. “Still acting?” A stack of annual billing reports was slapped across my face. Incubator maintenance, elite medical team salaries, imported experimental drugs, independent servers. The dollar amount next to each item was staggering. She picked up a page and read it aloud: “One hundred and thirty million dollars a year.” “What value have you ever brought to the Vance family?” “Nothing. All you know how to do is lie there and breathe.” Cold sweat dripped down my temples. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. It wasn’t that my heart was weak. It was that once my heart rate lost control, Elias’s bionic heart in Europe would crash right along with it. “Ms. Sterling, if you stop now, it’s not too late.” She slapped me hard across the face. The taste of copper filled my mouth. Nurse Maya rushed forward, grabbing a backup sensor patch. “Harper can’t run anymore!” Vanessa shot her a lethal glare, and the guards violently shoved Maya away. The sensor patch was tossed into the trash can. “You’re suspended. Say one more word, and you will never work in medicine again.” Maya froze in place, terrified to move. When the treadmill finally stopped, my legs gave out, and I collapsed directly onto the floor. The suffocating pain in my chest pulsed stronger with every second, but the blaring alarms abruptly died. Vanessa had shut off the main alert screen. The room fell dead silent. The only sound left was my erratic, broken breathing. She glanced up toward the penthouse and smiled maliciously. “Go. Search her suite from top to bottom.” “I want to see what kind of trash the Vance family has been burning their money on.” Two corporate lawyers and a team of guards immediately headed to the top floor. By the time I was dragged back up, my room had been completely ransacked. The climate-controlled pod was pried open, backup vials of medicine were scattered across the floor, and the safe by my bed had been forced open. One of the lawyers walked over to Vanessa holding a stack of papers. “Ms. Sterling, we found it.” Vanessa took the papers, scanned them, and the corners of her lips curled up. “Kickback agreements from medical equipment suppliers.” She pulled out a few more sheets. “Offshore wire transfer receipts.” She looked down at me, her eyes gleaming with the triumph of a victor. “Harper, what do you have to say for yourself?” I looked at those documents, and a sudden urge to laugh bubbled up in my throat. Those papers weren’t mine. But right now, I didn’t even have the strength to stand. Vanessa had already played judge, jury, and executioner. “Colluding with suppliers, embezzling Vanguard’s medical resources, and faking an illness to siphon a multi-million dollar medical fund.” She smacked the documents against my cheek. “As of right now, Harper’s penthouse privileges are revoked.” “Transfer her to a general observation ward.” I forced my head up. “No.” The sync environment on the top floor couldn’t be broken. The climate control, the soundproofing, the dedicated servers, the sensors—not a single one could be disconnected. But Vanessa just assumed I was finally scared. “What? You can’t survive without your luxury suite?” She leaned down and pinched my chin hard. “Then go ahead and die.” As I was dragged out of the room, the main control screen in the institute suddenly flashed a blinding, violent red. [Source Frequency Lost.] [Remote Bionic Heart Sync Critical.] [Emergency Contact: Elias Vance.] Vanessa glanced at it, completely expressionless, and reached out her hand. Click. She shut down the entire emergency grid. At that exact moment, in a high-rise boardroom in Geneva. Elias Vance was looking down, signing a massive acquisition contract. His fountain pen hit the paper, then suddenly jerked, tearing a jagged line across the page. A second later, the bionic heart in his chest emitted a piercing, high-pitched warning siren. 2 The general observation ward was on the third floor. No soundproof walls. No climate-control systems. I curled into a ball on the stiff hospital bed, my fingers digging into the cheap sheets, my chest so tight I couldn’t make a sound. The door burst open. Dr. Nolan rushed in, his lab coat unbuttoned, his face pale with panic. He was Elias’s chief physician and the only person in the institute who knew the entire truth. When he saw the empty space on my chest where the monitor patch was supposed to be, the blood drained from his face. “Who authorized the removal of her biosensors?!” Vanessa sat on the vinyl sofa, casually flipping through my medical file without even looking up. “Dr. Nolan, I am the acting director of this facility.” She pushed a Board of Directors authorization letter onto the table. “While Elias is away, Vanguard Medical answers to me.” Nolan didn’t even glance at it. He sprinted straight toward me. “Harper cannot stay in this room.” He reached out to hook me up to a portable sync monitor, but two guards instantly blocked his path. Nolan roared, “Get out of my way!” Vanessa stood up. “Why so tense? She’s a criminal under investigation for medical fraud, yet you’re protecting her more fiercely than Elias does.” Nolan ground his teeth together. He couldn’t say it. The fact that Elias’s bionic heart relied on my frequency was Vanguard’s highest-level corporate secret. If word got out, Elias would instantly become a walking target for every rival on Wall Street. Nolan could only force the words out through a tight jaw: “Her sync cannot be broken. If something happens to her, Mr. Vance will die.” Vanessa laughed out loud. “If something happens to Harper, Elias is in danger?” She walked over to my bed and stared down at me. “You’re quite the mastermind, getting the chief of medicine to lie for you.” I opened my mouth, but the crushing pain in my chest stopped me from forming a single word. The last trace of color left Nolan’s face. “Ms. Sterling, this is your last warning. If you stop now, I can still fix this.” “Fix this?” Vanessa’s smile was icy. “What needs fixing is the millions she’s stolen from this institute.” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Nolan. “Confiscate his badge.” The guards pinned Nolan and dragged him toward the door. “Vanessa! You are going to regret this!” Vanessa ignored him and turned to the Head of IT. “The backup sync server on the top floor. Is it still running?” The IT director’s face twisted in horror. “Ms. Sterling, we cannot shut that down! It transmits the calibration parameters to Mr. Vance’s remote bionic heart. If we cut it—” “Elias again.” Vanessa’s eyes darkened with absolute venom. “Every single one of you tries to use his name to control me.” She grabbed her walkie-talkie. “Shut it down.” The IT director lunged forward to stop it, but a guard kicked him to the floor. A few minutes later, the lights in the entire building flickered. The heart monitor next to my bed erupted into static, and my heart rate line went completely erratic. I clawed at my chest, arching off the bed as violent convulsions ripped through my body. Outside the door, Nolan was pinned to the floor, the veins in his neck bulging as he screamed. “Vanessa! He’s going to die! Elias is actually going to die!” Vanessa stood at the foot of my bed, watching me seize, completely unfazed. “Then let me see you die.” Her cell phone started ringing. The caller ID displayed an encrypted number. The location tag read: Geneva. She answered it. The voice of Elias’s executive assistant was completely hysterical. “Ms. Sterling! Mr. Vance just collapsed in the middle of a board meeting! His heart went into forced-survival mode! Did something happen at the institute—” Vanessa’s expression faltered for a fraction of a second. She looked down at me. I was drenched in cold sweat, my breathing snapping into broken, jagged gasps. The brief hesitation in her eyes vanished, replaced once again by mockery. “You guys really committed to this act, didn’t you?” The assistant was screaming through the speaker: “Ms. Sterling?! Are you there?!” She hung up. Powered off the phone. And tossed it into her designer bag. “Elias is surrounded by the best medical team in Europe. He doesn’t need a lying parasite to save his life.” I lay on the hard mattress, listening to my own heartbeat drag me down, down, down into the dark. 3 By the time I was shoved into the examination room, my fingers were shaking uncontrollably. They slapped ice-cold electrode patches onto my skin. The waveform on the monitor was a chaotic mess. Nolan was pinned outside the glass door, his white coat covered in dirt, his eyes locked onto me. “Harper, hold on.” I tried to twitch my lips into a smile, but I couldn’t. It felt like a thousand invisible wires were wrapping tightly around my chest, pulling tighter by the second. The old Institute Director arrived, his hair completely disheveled. He rushed up to Vanessa, shoving a tablet in her face. The screen displayed two sets of data—my heart rate waveform, and the remote operational logs of Elias’s bionic heart. The timestamps, the erratic spikes, the frequencies—they matched perfectly. The Director’s voice was trembling. “From the exact second you ripped off Harper’s monitor patch, Mr. Vance’s sync failed.” “When you shut down the backup server, he fainted for the first time.” “Now that Harper’s heart rate is continuously unstable, Mr. Vance’s artificial heart has entered critical failure mode.” Vanessa’s face finally darkened. But a moment later, she scoffed. “Data can be faked.” The Director froze. Vanessa tossed the tablet onto a nearby table. “This entire institute is on Elias’s payroll. If you all want to cover for Harper’s fraud, fabricating a chart is child’s play.” “Ms. Sterling, this is a matter of life and death!” the Director pleaded. “Which is exactly why I need to get to the truth.” Vanessa turned around and ordered a lawyer to hand her a document. She shoved a pen into my shaking hand. “Sign it.” I forced my eyes to focus on the paper. Declaration of Voluntary Confession to Medical Fraud and Embezzlement of Resources. It stated that for years, I had faked a medical condition and colluded with the doctors to steal millions from Vanguard Medical. I let out a dry, rasping laugh. My throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. “Vanessa.” She glared at me. I forced my head up, looking her dead in the eye. “You aren’t punishing me.” “You are personally destroying Elias’s heart.” Her expression turned completely glacial. “Still threatening me?” I gripped the pen, my fingertips trembling so violently I could barely hold it. “I’m not threatening you. I’m trying to save his life.” Vanessa leaned down, viciously grabbing my wrist. The pen tip tore through the paper, slicing into the pad of my finger. “You? Save him? What the hell do you think you are?” “What Elias needs is a world-class medical team and the most advanced bionic technology on the planet.” “Not some pathetic piece of trash dragged out of an orphanage.” She let go of me and snapped at a nurse. “Give her a stimulant.” The nurse turned deathly pale, too terrified to move. The Director threw himself forward. “You can’t! Her baseline frequency is already in chaos. A stimulant will trigger total cardiac collapse!” Vanessa grabbed the syringe herself and walked up to me. “You love pretending to be sick? Let’s see just how steady that miracle heartbeat of yours really is.” The moment the needle pierced my vein, my entire body went rigid. The icy liquid rushed into my bloodstream. Seconds later, it felt like my heart had been dropped into boiling oil. Thump-thump-thump. I could hear my heartbeat completely lose its rhythm, thrashing so violently it threatened to break my ribs. The monitors shrieked. The Director lunged at her but was tackled by security. Outside the glass, Nolan fought like a madman, his eyes bloodshot. “Vanessa! You’re out of your mind!” I slid out of the examination chair, my knees crashing into the floor, but I couldn’t even feel the pain. My vision faded in and out of darkness. In my delirium, I remembered the very first time Elias Vance came to see me. He was in a wheelchair, his face pale, his chest covered in wires and tubes. The doctors told him my heartbeat could keep him alive. But he just looked at me and asked, “Are you willing to do this?” I was so young back then. I asked him, “What if I’m not?” He was quiet for a long time before replying, “Then we let it go.” But I stayed. Because that day, even though he was dying, he refused to force me. And now, someone else was forcing me to die in his place. At that exact moment, in a Geneva ER. Elias Vance forced his eyes open. A doctor leaned in to strap an oxygen mask over his face, but Elias violently ripped it away. His chest heaved erratically, the piercing alarm of his bionic heart deafening inside the trauma room. His assistant leaned over. “Mr. Vance, you cannot move!” Elias’s voice was a ragged growl. “Prep the jet.” “We’re going back.” 4 By the time Vanessa convened her disciplinary hearing, I could no longer stand. I was wheeled into the grand auditorium on the ground floor. It was packed. Board members, corporate lawyers, head nurses, the chief of security, and compliance regulators she had called in. Every eye was on me—pity, scrutiny, disgust. Vanessa stood at the front podium, her makeup flawless, her designer dress impeccable. I was wearing a hospital gown soaked in cold sweat. The skin below my collarbone was raw, blistered, and bleeding where the patches had been repeatedly ripped away. She turned on the projector. “I called you all here today to resolve an ugly scandal that has plagued this institute for years.” The screen flashed with the fake kickback agreements and offshore wire transfers. Her voice rang out clearly: “Harper. An orphan. Not a Vanguard employee. Not a medical researcher.” “Yet she has permanently occupied the highest-tier penthouse suite, hoarding millions in elite private medical resources.” “Our preliminary investigation proves she colluded with medical suppliers, fabricated a terminal condition, and embezzled corporate funds.” Murmurs erupted through the crowd. “No wonder she’s always on the top floor.” “I heard she doesn’t even do anything. She just lies in bed all day.” “Did Mr. Vance get conned by her?” I kept my eyes lowered. I didn’t say a word. Explaining was useless. Vanessa didn’t want the truth; she wanted a conviction. She looked at a row of nurses. “Tell the board. What exactly does Harper do in the penthouse all day?” The Head Nurse stood up first. She glanced nervously at Vanessa and murmured, “Ms. Harper doesn’t participate in any clinical trials or treatments.” Another nurse chimed in: “She spends most of the day resting. Her diet, environment, and medications are all strictly managed by a private team.” A third was more blunt: “None of us understand why she gets to use equipment worth tens of millions of dollars.” Outside the auditorium doors, Nurse Maya was being restrained by two guards. She was crying hysterically. “That’s not true! Harper’s monitor data is directly linked to Mr. Vance’s internal system!” Before she could finish, they dragged her away. Vanessa smiled in satisfaction. “You all heard it for yourselves.” I slowly raised my head, looking at the faces of the people testifying against me. I memorized every single one. Not for revenge. But because I was afraid that after I died, no one would ever know what they did here today. Suddenly, there was a commotion at the door. Dr. Nolan was shoved into the room. His face was bruised, his eyes entirely bloodshot, but his gaze snapped instantly to me. “Harper!” Vanessa smiled. “Perfect timing, Dr. Nolan.” She pointed directly at my collarbone. “Dr. Nolan, didn’t you previously claim that Harper has a core Vanguard medical chip embedded in her chest?” Nolan’s face changed. “She didn’t steal it.” “That is a biometric sync chip, personally authorized and implanted by Mr. Vance. It cannot be removed.” “And who takes responsibility if it is?” That was exactly what Vanessa was waiting for. She turned to face the crowd. “Did you hear that?” “A non-employee is harboring Vanguard’s highest-clearance medical chip inside her own body.” “This is no longer simple fraud. This is corporate espionage and the theft of proprietary core tech.” Nolan roared, “Vanessa! That chip connects to—” “Gag him.” The guards instantly clamped a hand over Nolan’s mouth and pinned him down. Vanessa walked down the aisle, stopping right in front of my wheelchair. She leaned down, gently fixing my disheveled collar with a mockingly tender touch. “Harper, I gave you a chance.” “You refused to confess.” She raised her hand. “Extract the chip right now. Send it to legal for analysis.” My pupils dilated. “No.” For the first time, I actually fought back, thrashing in the chair. “Vanessa, that chip cannot leave my body.” Vanessa pinned my shoulder down. “Scared now?” I gasped for air, my lungs burning. “He’s already on his way.” Vanessa froze for a second, then laughed. “Even if Elias comes back, he’ll only thank me for exterminating a parasite like you.” I was dragged out of the wheelchair and slammed onto a surgical chair. No anesthesia. Nolan was gagged, his eyes wide with absolute terror, practically tearing at the seams. When the cold steel of the scalpel pressed against my collarbone, my entire body went rigid. The first incision sliced through my skin. Blood instantly spilled out. The agony exploded through my chest, and I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted copper. The forceps dug into the open wound, clamping onto the sync chip buried deep beneath the tissue. Every monitor in the auditorium instantly flashed a violent, flashing red. [Warning: Source Frequency Severed.] [Remote Bionic Heart Total Failure Imminent.] Vanessa didn’t even glance at the screens. She stared right into my eyes and violently yanked the chip out. In that split second, my vision went completely black. But right before I lost consciousness, I heard the heavy double doors of the auditorium crash open. Someone was pushing a wheelchair into the room. Elias Vance sat in the chair, his face as white as a sheet of paper. His eyes locked onto the gaping, bleeding wound on my chest. A fraction of a second later, the alarm on his bionic heart shrieked at a deafening pitch. He clutched his chest and tumbled out of the wheelchair. Crashing to the floor, right at Vanessa’s feet.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574793”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Julian gave me a secondary credit card with a strict limit. A daily cap of fifty dollars. Anything over that, I had to snap a picture of the receipt and text it to him for approval. He called it “financial transparency in marriage.” I obeyed for three years. Last month, my annual physical revealed a thyroid nodule. The doctor recommended a needle biopsy. I took a picture of the estimated bill and sent it to him. “$1,200 out of pocket?” he replied immediately. “For a nodule? Can’t you just monitor it for now?” I didn’t reply. I canceled the appointment. That night, he came home and tossed two shopping bags onto the entryway console. I recognized the designer logo. I peeked inside. It was a necklace, priced at $1,400. Underneath the bag was a small card with his handwriting: Happy Birthday, Chloe. You deserve the best. Chloe was the new marketing associate at his firm. Just last week at a department dinner, she had smiled and asked me, “Sarah, isn’t Julian just the most generous husband?” I put the card back exactly where I found it. In the end, my mom went with me to get the biopsy. It was benign. When the pathology report came back, I didn’t tell him. I told my lawyer instead. When he received the divorce summons, he texted me: “Can we talk about this?” I finally used the phrase he had taught me so well. “Submit a request. Wait for approval.” Julian’s first words when he walked through the door were, “Drop the lawsuit.” He slammed the court summons onto the dining table. It wasn’t a negotiation; it was a directive. I calmly folded my last sweater into my suitcase. “You’re dragging me to court over a necklace?” He loosened his tie and sat across from me. “Chloe just joined the firm. Her birthday happened to land right when we closed a massive project. As her boss, I got her a gift. Is that really crossing a line?” I closed my suitcase. “Not at all.” His expression softened slightly. “Then drop the suit. I’ll go with you to your lawyer tomorrow to clear this up.” “I’m not dropping it.” Julian stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly picked up his phone. A moment later, I received a text from the bank. [Alert: The supplementary card ending in 7319 has been temporarily suspended.] “Until you calm down, the card stays locked,” he said, leaning back in his chair. His tone was perfectly even. “You’ve been completely reckless with money lately. You want to drop $1,200 on a test on a whim, and now you’re hiring a lawyer. Sarah, I’m not punishing you. I’m just cutting my losses.” I looked at the text message. I wasn’t even surprised. For three years, every argument ended exactly like this. He didn’t yell. He didn’t throw things. With the tap of a finger, I couldn’t buy a box of aspirin, I couldn’t call an Uber, I couldn’t even buy my mom a bag of groceries without checking my balance first. Seeing my silence, Julian softened his voice again. “I know the nodule scare made you anxious. But since it turned out to be benign, it proves my judgment was right. There’s no need to blow up our marriage over this.” “It was benign, so refusing to pay for the test was the right call?” “At least we didn’t waste the money.” He answered too quickly. He had already run the cost-benefit analysis. I grabbed the handle of my suitcase. “Keep the card.” Julian stood up, blocking the door. “Where are you going?” “My mom’s.” “Your mom’s old apartment building doesn’t even have an elevator. You won’t last three days.” He gripped the handle of my suitcase, offering a patient reminder. “Besides, her monthly blood pressure meds, her insulin—who pays for all of that? If you throw a tantrum now, the only person who suffers is her.” My hand slowly tightened on the grip. “Over the past three years, exactly how much of your money has she spent?” Julian frowned. “Is it really necessary to keep score between husband and wife?” “Isn’t keeping score your favorite hobby?” I pulled out my phone. “Her copays, holiday gifts, two physicals. I itemized it all. It comes out to exactly $6,840. When the court divides our marital assets, you can deduct it from my half.” “Sarah.” His voice finally turned ice-cold. “You don’t have an income. What ‘half’ are you talking about?” I looked up at him. The $150,000 down payment for this house came from the condo I sold before we got married. During the two hardest years of his startup, every household expense came out of my savings. Later, when his father had a stroke, I quit my job and took care of him full-time for four solid years. But out of his mouth, because I didn’t bring home a paycheck, I had no “half.” Sensing he had gone too far, Julian reached out to touch my shoulder. “I’m not denying your contributions. But chores and caregiving don’t translate directly into cash. If you leave me, who’s going to give you an allowance? Who’s going to pay your health insurance?” I dodged his hand. “We can save these questions for the judge.” I dragged my suitcase toward the door. He didn’t try to stop me again. He just stood behind me and said coolly, “Your mom’s Medicare supplemental premium is due next month. I won’t be paying it.” My footsteps paused for half a second. Julian picked up the summons and held it out to me. “Text me when you withdraw the petition. Once I approve it, your card and her insurance will be reinstated.” I took the piece of paper. Right in front of him, I slowly ripped it in half. Just then, his phone rang. Chloe’s tearful voice drifted through the speaker. “Julian, my landlord just told me I have to move out by tonight. I don’t know who else to call…” Julian glanced at me, grabbed his car keys, and walked to the door. Before stepping out, he paused. “Think it over tonight.” “If you drop the suit by tomorrow morning, we can pretend none of this happened.” After the door clicked shut, my phone buzzed. It was a photo from my mom. She was holding a notice of policy cancellation. At the bottom of the page, it clearly stated the name of the person who requested the cancellation. Julian Vance. When I got to my mom’s place, she was crouched on the floor, picking up scattered pills. She hastily tried to hide the cancellation notice behind her back. “The system must have made a mistake. I’ll go to the insurance office tomorrow and ask. Don’t fight with Julian over this.” I helped her to the sofa. “It wasn’t a system error. He canceled it.” My mom froze. “Why?” “Because I’m divorcing him.” She was silent for a long time before asking softly, “Is it because of the money for the biopsy?” I didn’t answer. She patted the back of my hand. “Sarah, I have my social security. If the insurance is gone, it’s gone. Don’t you dare go back and beg him because of me.” The braver she tried to be, the more it broke my heart. For years, Julian constantly claimed my mom was a burden on us. But every time she came over for dinner, she brought her own groceries. Every birthday check we gave her went straight into a savings account she kept for me. Even the $1,200 for my biopsy had come straight out of her meager retirement fund. She had never depended on anyone. The only person dependent on Julian’s money was me—because he had meticulously severed every lifeline I had. A knock came at the door. Eleanor, Julian’s mother, stood outside with Julian right behind her. As soon as she walked in, she slapped a stack of spreadsheets onto the coffee table. “Since we’re talking about divorce, let’s get the accounts straight.” I flipped to the first page. From my wedding dress in year one to a box of tampons last week, every single expense was itemized. She even calculated the market value of the homemade casseroles my mom brought over, deducting $45 from my “allowance.” Eleanor took a sip of water. “Julian has worked hard to support you these past few years. You couldn’t even give the Vance family a child, and now you want half his assets? It’s going to make you look terrible.” My mom’s face went pale. “Eleanor, Sarah didn’t have a child because she miscarried while breaking her back taking care of your husband!” Julian’s brow furrowed deeply. “Mom, don’t bring up the past.” I looked at him. “Why shouldn’t she?” Four years ago, I was nine weeks pregnant. His dad slipped in the bathroom. I had to lift his dead weight all by myself. Soon after, my sweatpants were soaked with blood. I called Julian eleven times. He was out of state for business. He texted back: “Take care of Dad first. We’ll talk when I get back.” I lost the baby. When he finally rushed to the hospital, his first sentence was, “Thank God Dad is okay.” Eleanor pushed the spreadsheet toward me. “A miscarriage means you had a weak constitution. You can’t blame that on taking care of an old man. Besides, our family has never mistreated you.” Suddenly, her eyes locked onto the gold bangle on my mom’s wrist. “Didn’t Julian buy that for you when you two got married?” My mom quickly took it off. “When Sarah went for her test, I was afraid she didn’t have enough to cover it, so I took it to get appraised. I couldn’t bear to sell it, so I brought it back to give to her.” Eleanor snatched it from her hands. “Well, if you’re divorcing, the Vance family’s property comes back to us.” My mom’s hands hovered empty in the air. I slammed my hand down over the bracelet. “This was made from the gold watch my dad left behind. It has nothing to do with your family.” Julian finally spoke. “My mother put that on your wrist at our wedding in front of all our relatives. You claim it’s your dad’s. Do you have proof?” I stared at him. When I took my dad’s watch to the jeweler to be melted down and redesigned, Julian went with me. He knew perfectly well. “Julian, this is all my dad left me.” “If it really is, I won’t keep it.” He pulled my hand away, picked up the bracelet, and dropped it into his mother’s purse. “We’ll get it appraised and verified. That way you can’t accuse me of stealing your property.” My mom stood up in a panic. “Julian, you can’t do that. That’s the only thing she has left of her father.” Julian didn’t even look at her. He just shoved the spreadsheet toward me. “Over the past few years, you’ve spent $245,000 from the joint household account. Drop the lawsuit, and we wipe the slate clean. Insist on a divorce, and my lawyers will audit every single penny.” I let out a dry laugh. “Groceries and your father’s home nursing care count as my debt to you?” “Let’s settle the math before we talk about feelings.” He said it so casually. As if what he had just taken wasn’t my dead father’s heirloom, but simply a disputed marital asset. Eleanor stood up to leave. My mom took two steps to chase after her, but her blood pressure spiked. She stumbled, grabbing the edge of the table. I rushed to catch her. Julian instinctively took a step forward, but his phone rang, stopping him in his tracks. He answered it. Chloe’s soft voice came through. “Julian, I found a place. But the move-in costs are high.” “How much?” “First, last, and security on a luxury lease. It’s about $15,000.” Julian looked right at me and answered calmly, “Send me the lease agreement. I’ll take care of it.” My mom leaned heavily against me, her hand still reaching weakly toward the door. “Sarah’s bracelet…” But Julian was already guiding his mother out the door. The next morning, I took my mom to the bank. She pulled out a cashier’s check and placed it in front of me. “There’s $40,000 here. It’s what your dad left behind. I was going to save it for when you had a baby.” I didn’t take it. “Mom, I can handle this.” “You have to ask permission just to buy a bus ticket. How are you going to handle this?” Her eyes welled up with tears. “Sarah, I used to tell you to just endure it. I thought because Julian didn’t cheat, didn’t hit you, and didn’t drink, he was a good husband. I was so wrong.” I pushed the check back to her. “My lawyer has already filed an injunction to freeze his assets. I’m not walking away with nothing.” Right on cue, Julian’s lawyer called. The tone was sickeningly polite. “Sarah, the deed to the house is solely in Julian’s name, and the purchase agreement was signed before the marriage. Legally, it’s considered pre-marital property. As for the $150,000 you claim as a down payment, my client views it as a pre-marital gift.” “The memo on the wire transfer explicitly said ‘joint home purchase.’” “Yet only his name is on the deed.” “That’s because he claimed my credit score would raise the mortgage rate!” The lawyer paused. “I highly suggest you negotiate directly with Julian. Proceeding with litigation won’t end well for you.” I hung up and instantly logged into my old bank account. The record of the $150,000 wire transfer was still there. But the physical real estate agreement and the down payment receipts I had kept in our home safe? They were gone. I dialed Julian’s number. “You took my real estate documents?” “Taking things from our shared marital home isn’t ‘taking.’” He sounded like he was driving. His tone was dismissive. “Come home. We’ll talk face to face.” “Give me my papers back.” “Drop the suit first.” “That $150,000 came from the condo I owned before we even met.” “And?” He asked it so smoothly. “When you married me, you said you wanted us to build a home together. Now that we have one, you want to convert romantic promises into a corporate debt?” My grip on the phone tightened. “The house is worth $1.8 million now, and you won’t even acknowledge my $150,000?” “It’s not that I don’t acknowledge it. It’s that you have no proof.” From his end of the line, I heard Chloe’s voice. “Julian, should we do cream or light grey for the curtains?” Julian paused, then murmured to her, “Cream. You like it bright.” “You’re at her new place?” “She’s a young woman moving alone. I’m just helping her get settled.” “Which credit card did you use to pay her deposit?” “Sarah. Don’t play detective.” “Was it our joint account?” He went silent for two seconds. “Every dollar in that account was earned by me.” I looked at the $40,000 check my mom was offering, and my voice went completely dead. “So giving me $50 a day is a ‘joint household expense,’ but dropping $15,000 on her is ‘your own money’?” Julian’s patience finally snapped. “She’s not like you.” “She actually appreciates things. She doesn’t take everything I do for granted.” I hung up and drove straight to our house. The digital keypad code had been changed. Julian pulled into the driveway thirty minutes later, carrying a box of decorative knick-knacks Chloe didn’t want for her new place. “What are you doing here?” “I’m getting my ID, my passport, and my documents.” He unlocked the door but blocked the entrance with his body. “After you drop the suit.” “My social security card and passport are in there.” “I’m your husband. What’s wrong with me keeping them safe?” I pulled out my phone to dial 911. He clamped his hand over the screen. It wasn’t a hard grip, but it perfectly pinned my wrist. “Do you really have to make this so ugly?” I glared at his hand. “Let go.” Julian released me, pulled out his wallet, and extracted three hundred-dollar bills. “Your allowance for the next few days.” The bills fluttered down onto the welcome mat at my feet. “Stop being stubborn. You have no job, and you have a sick mother. Life after a divorce will crush you. A court summons isn’t a magic wand; judges need evidence.” I didn’t touch the money. Just as he was about to close the door, Eleanor’s voice echoed from the living room. “Julian, did you change the safe code? Whatever you do, do not let her get her hands on that wire transfer receipt.” Julian froze. I hit the record button on my phone. Through the crack in the door, Eleanor kept talking. “Once she realizes she has zero proof, she’ll come crawling back.” Julian pushed the door to shut it. I lunged forward, jamming my foot in the doorjamb. “Move.” Julian lowered his voice. “Don’t make me call security.” I gripped the doorframe. “Give me my documents and my dad’s bracelet, and I’ll leave right now.” Eleanor walked into the foyer, looking completely unbothered. “Recording us won’t do anything. We were just organizing files. Who said we were stealing anything?” She opened the safe and pulled out a manila folder. “You want them? Fine. Sign this first.” It was a four-page post-nuptial agreement. I read the first clause, and my fingers went numb. [Sarah voluntarily acknowledges that the $150,000 down payment was a personal gift to Julian Vance.] Clause two: I waive all rights to marital property division. Clause three: I assume total liability for the accident his father had while under my care. The final clause demanded the immediate withdrawal of my divorce petition. “Sign it, and you get your ID and the bracelet.” Julian placed a pen on the console table. “I won’t leave you on the street. I’ll give you two thousand a month, and I’ll reinstate your mom’s insurance.” “What is this?” “A divorce settlement.” “You’re buying me off with my own money and my own house?” Eleanor sneered. “You looked after my husband for a few years and think you’re a saint? A home nurse costs five grand a month. You lived rent-free under our roof. We’re being more than generous.” I looked at Julian. “Is this really how you see it?” He avoided my eyes. “Putting a dollar value on a marriage is always ugly. You’re the one who pushed it to this point.” My phone started ringing frantically. It was my mom’s neighbor. “Sarah, your mom fell down the stairs! She can’t move her leg. The ambulance is here!” I spun around to leave, but Julian grabbed my arm. “You haven’t signed.” “My mom is hurt!” “Going there won’t magically fix her.” He forced the pen into my hand. His tone was chillingly calm, almost gentle. “Sign it, and I’ll unlock your credit card immediately. I’ll pay the hospital deposit. I’ll pay for the surgery.” I wrenched my arm away. “I don’t need your money for her treatment.” “How are you going to pay for it?” Julian picked up my driver’s license from the folder and tapped it lightly against his palm. “Without your ID, you can’t even withdraw money from a teller.” I stared at him. This was the man I had slept next to for seven years. He knew every single one of my weaknesses, so every time he stabbed me, he never had to draw blood. On the phone, the neighbor urged, “The paramedics think it’s a fractured femur. Hurry.” I reached out and took the pen. Julian finally relaxed. “Good girl. Family matters should stay in the family.” Right as the pen touched the paper, I asked, “Where’s the bracelet?” Eleanor pulled it out of her purse and dropped it on the table. The gold bangle was warped, with a deep, ugly gouge carved into the inner rim. “What did you do to it?” Eleanor scowled. “The appraiser scratched it to test the gold. It doesn’t affect how it wears.” I ran my thumb over the gouge. I didn’t say a word. “Sign it,” Julian rushed me. I picked up the agreement, looked him dead in the eye, and ripped it down the middle. Once. Twice. The four pages fluttered to the floor like snow. Eleanor shrieked, “Sarah, are you insane?!” I slipped the mangled bracelet over my wrist. “Give me my ID, or I’m calling the cops.” The last bit of warmth vanished from Julian’s eyes. “Fine.” He threw my ID onto the floor. “You walk out that door today, don’t you dare ever come back begging me.” I bent down and picked it up. Just as I reached the porch, my phone buzzed with an email. It was a paralegal from the county clerk’s office, sending a requested file. She asked if the signature on the document was mine. It was a home equity loan agreement. The collateral was the house Julian and I had lived in for seven years. Under “Spouse’s Signature,” my name was neatly printed. Sarah. But the date next to the signature was a day I was three states away, accompanying his father to a rehab clinic. I turned the screen around to face Julian. “Who signed this?” He barely glanced at it. His expression remained utterly composed. “I had someone sign it for you.” “You forged my signature?” “The loan was just for cash flow. As long as the monthly payments are made, it doesn’t matter.” “Where did the money go?” Eleanor panicked. “Julian, don’t tell her anything!” I looked down at the loan amount. $500,000. The day after the funds cleared, a downtown condo was purchased in cash. The buyer on the deed was Chloe. I dialed 911. Julian finally lunged to snatch my phone. “Sarah, spouses sign for each other all the time! Are you seriously getting the police involved?” The dispatcher answered. I stepped back and clearly read out the address. “I’d like to report a crime.” “Someone forged my signature to take out a fraudulent mortgage on my home and embezzle marital assets.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574792”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I’ve always taken things literally. I don’t understand hidden meanings. In middle school, a girl shoved her cheat sheet into my hand. “Hold this for a second, the teacher is coming.” She assumed I’d panic and stuff it in my pocket. I raised my hand. “Mr. Davis, her cheat sheet was just shoved into my hand.” Years later, at my first corporate job, our new manager started auditing the accounts. Brenda frantically kicked my foot under the table and hissed, “Take the fall for this. You’re new, they won’t fire you.” I nodded, stood up, and looked right at the manager. “Brenda took the kickbacks.” “She said I wouldn’t get fired because I’m new.” “You’re new too, why don’t you take the fall for her?” After that, nobody in the office ever whispered to me again. That is, until my biological parents finally brought me home and threw a belated welcome dinner for me. Chloe, the girl they had raised instead of me, ignored the place card with my name on it and sat right between my parents. She linked her arm through my mother’s and smiled at me. “Sister, I’ve sat in this seat for twenty-one years. You don’t mind, do you?” Everyone at the table waited for me to be the bigger person and quietly take a seat on the side. I asked her seriously: “Why do you think I wouldn’t mind?” “Is it because it’s the daughter’s seat?” She pursed her lips and said nothing. I continued: “If it is the daughter’s seat,” “And you’ve sat in it for twenty-one years, isn’t it time to give it back?” …… The dining room instantly went dead silent. The relatives who had been chatting just moments ago all suddenly found their water glasses fascinating. The smile on Chloe’s face froze. “Sister, I was just making a joke.” “Which part of the joke was funny?” “That’s not what I meant.” “Then what did you mean?” She stared at me for a few seconds, her eyes slowly welling with tears. My oldest brother, Liam, walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. “Summer, today is a good day. Don’t nitpick her words.” “I’m not nitpicking.” I pointed at the place card on the table. “My seat was next to Mom. She moved the place card, sat in my seat, and then asked if I minded.” “You all think there’s nothing wrong with that, right?” Liam frowned. “It’s just a chair. What does it matter where you sit?” “Then why didn’t she sit in my chair?” “She’s used to sitting between Mom and Dad.” “Just because you’re used to something, you can take what belongs to someone else?” Liam was left speechless. My mother finally reached for my hand: “Summer, Chloe has sat with us since she was little. She didn’t mean any harm.” “I didn’t say she meant any harm.” “I just asked when she is getting up.” My mother’s fingers tightened. Chloe immediately stood up: “I’ll move.” “You are their biological daughter. I shouldn’t be sitting here anyway.” With red eyes, she pushed her chair back. The legs scraped against the floor with a harsh, grating sound. But before she could take two steps, my mother chased after her and grabbed her arm. “Chloe, that’s not what I meant.” “Your health isn’t good, don’t overthink this.” My second brother, Mason, also stepped in front of her defensively. My third brother, Julian, glared directly at me: “Are you happy now?” I looked at them: “She took my seat. I asked when she was giving it back. Why does that make me a bully?” Julian’s face darkened. “You know perfectly well she is terrified of being kicked out of this family, and you deliberately provoke her by bringing up who is ‘biological’ and who isn’t.” “She is the one who brought up being biological. I didn’t say it. Why am I responsible for her words?” Julian opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Chloe clutched her chest, her breathing suddenly turning ragged. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come to this dinner.” “You are a family. I’ll go.” She turned and ran out of the room. My mother and all three of my brothers chased after her. My father, Richard, sat at the head of the table, his expression grim: “Summer, you’ve been back for three years. Why can’t you learn how to get along with your own family?” I looked at the four empty chairs: “Today is supposed to be my welcome dinner, right?” “Of course.” “Then why did they all leave?” My father rubbed his temples: “Chloe isn’t feeling well.” “Mason is a doctor. He’s enough.” “Your mother is worried about her.” “And Liam and Julian?” My father didn’t answer. I waited a moment, then asked again: “At a welcome dinner for the biological daughter, the biological daughter and the adopted daughter had a disagreement.” “The entire family ran after the adopted daughter.” “Who exactly are you welcoming today?” My father slammed his hand on the table. “Enough!” I nodded: “Okay.” He was stunned for a moment. In the three years since I returned to the Sterling family, it was the first time I hadn’t pressed an issue. The welcome dinner I had anticipated for three years was over in less than an hour. When I returned to the Sterling house, Chloe was leaning back on the sofa, drinking water. My mother was sitting next to her, rubbing her back. My three brothers were huddled around her like she had just been released from the ICU. As I took off my shoes, my mother called out: “Summer, come over here and apologize to Chloe.” I walked over. “What is the reason for the apology?” My mother’s hand stopped. Julian sneered: “Do you really need everything spelled out for you?” “Yes. If you don’t spell it out, I might apologize for the wrong thing.” I looked at him: “Is it because I asked why she took my seat? Or is it because I didn’t voluntarily offer it to her?” Julian stood up: “Here we go again. You do this every time. You have to dissect every single word until everyone in the room is humiliated.” “If someone says something unreasonable, and it humiliates them, what’s the problem?” “Family isn’t a courtroom!” “Then what is it?” “It’s about feelings!” I looked at Julian, then asked: “I’ve been back for three years. You’ve celebrated three of her birthdays. You haven’t come home for a single one of mine.” “When you say ‘feelings,’ do you mean your feelings for her?” Julian’s face instantly turned beet red. “I was busy those days.” I held up my fingers and listed them off: “The first time, you went to a concert with her. The second time, she got into a fight with a friend. The third time, her cat wouldn’t eat.” “Which one of those was your business?” Julian fell silent. Chloe set down her water glass and whispered, “Sister has a really good memory.” “Of course.” “My birthday only happens once a year.” A flicker of guilt crossed my mother’s eyes: “Summer, you can’t just dig up the past every time because we used to spend more time with Chloe.” “It’s not the past.” “My last birthday was two months ago.” The living room fell silent again. Liam, unable to stand the tension, pushed a small box toward me: “The dinner didn’t go well. This is for you.” I opened the box. Inside was a pearl necklace. Chloe’s face changed. She instinctively touched her neck, where a jade pendant hung. I had seen it before. The very first time my mother visited me, she showed me a picture of it and said: “This is a family heirloom meant for the Sterling daughter. You went missing when you were little, but I’ve been keeping it safe for you.” I pointed at Chloe’s neck: “Why does she have my pendant?” My mother immediately explained: “When Chloe turned eighteen, she got very sick. I wanted to give her something for good luck, so I let her wear it for a while.” “How long is ‘a while’?” “Three years.” “When is she giving it back?” Chloe immediately reached for the clasp, but my mother grabbed her hand: “Summer, it’s just a piece of jade. If you like it, I’ll buy you a new one.” “I don’t need jade. I’m asking why the necklace you said you were keeping safe for me was given to her?” My mother’s eyes grew red: “I thought we were never going to find you.” “But you did.” I looked at her: “So why hasn’t she given it back?” Chloe’s tears started to fall: “I’ll give it back to Sister.” “Chloe! I gave this to you. You don’t have to give it back.” I nodded, closing the velvet box with the pearls and pushing it back across the table: “I understand.” My mother was stunned: “What do you understand?” “That pendant wasn’t being kept safe for me.” “And this necklace isn’t an apology gift.” “You just want me to accept something new so I’ll stop asking where the old one went.” My father walked in through the front door just in time to hear my last sentence. His brow furrowed: “What are you arguing about now?” Julian jumped in: “She’s demanding Chloe’s jade pendant.” “I’m not demanding it.” I corrected him. “I just wanted to confirm if it belongs to me. If it doesn’t, I don’t want it. If it does, it should be returned.” “Is that hard to understand?” My father was silent for a moment: “We’ll talk about the pendant later.” “Tomorrow, we’ll get your legal residency transferred.” I looked at him. Despite living with the Sterling family for three years, my legal address was still registered in the small, rural county where I grew up. Every time I brought it up, they claimed the paperwork was too complicated. Chloe let out a soft, relieved laugh. “Sister has been back for so long, her residency can finally be transferred.” I asked her: “Why did you say ‘finally’?” Her smile faded. “I’m just happy for you.” “But you said ‘finally,’ which means you know it’s been delayed for a long time.” “Do you know why it was delayed?” Chloe averted her eyes. My mother immediately interrupted: “Tomorrow, the whole family will go with you.” I confirmed it. “Dad, Mom, and all three brothers?” Liam nodded. “All of us.” Julian leaned back on the sofa, sounding annoyed. “It’s just some paperwork at City Hall. Do you really need to take roll call?” “Yes.” I looked at them. “Because I don’t want someone suddenly having a stomachache, feeling dizzy, or dealing with a cat that won’t eat tomorrow.” Chloe’s face paled. My mother squeezed my hand. “We won’t.” “This time, no one is leaving.” The next morning at nine, we arrived at City Hall. Chloe came too. She said she wanted to witness me officially coming home. The clerk took my documents, reviewed half of them, and looked up at my father: “You’re missing one proof of kinship form.” My father turned to Liam. “Didn’t I tell you to get that ready?” Liam rifled through his folder, his face dropping. “I left it on the desk in the study.” Julian couldn’t help but complain: “We’re already here, can’t we just process it first?” The clerk shook her head. “Incomplete files can’t be entered into the system.” Chloe immediately spoke up: “It’s all my fault.” “Liam was helping me look for my medication last night. He must have forgotten because he was distracted.” I looked at her. “Why is it your fault?” She froze. “I… I was just saying.” “Liam was the one helping you look for medicine, and Liam was the one who forgot the paperwork.” “When you say it’s your fault, are you trying to take the blame for him?” “Or are you just trying to remind me that my affairs were delayed because he was busy taking care of you?” Liam immediately frowned. “Summer, she doesn’t think like that. You’re making it too complicated.” “Then what did she mean?” “She just feels guilty.” “She didn’t touch the paperwork, why does she feel guilty?” Liam was getting irritated. “Fine, it’s my fault. Are you happy now?” “Yes.” I typed a note into my phone. “We can get the missing form this afternoon.” Julian rolled his eyes. “You really can’t let anything go, can you?” “It’s my residency.” “If I don’t care, who will?” No one answered. My father sent his driver back to the house to get the document. We waited in the lobby for twenty minutes. Then, Chloe’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, and her face suddenly drained of color. “Mom, I need to go back.” My mother grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong?” “It’s nothing.” The more she said it was nothing, the faster her tears fell. Mason took her phone. The screen showed a screenshot from the estate’s security cameras. A few movers were carrying boxes out of her bedroom. My mother immediately turned to my father. “Who authorized them to touch Chloe’s room?” My father looked taken aback. “I told the housekeeper last night to clear out Summer’s old childhood bedroom.” Chloe bit her lip. “It’s okay.” “Sister is the rightful owner of that room anyway.” “If my things get thrown out, it’s fine.” My mother panicked. “Who said anything about throwing your things out?!” She grabbed her purse and marched toward the exit. Liam and Julian immediately followed. Mason glanced at me. “She has anxiety. Her room being disturbed could trigger a panic attack.” “You’re a doctor. You’re enough.” I looked at Liam and Julian. “Can you guys cure anxiety too?” Julian gritted his teeth. “She’s crying like this, and you’re trying to stop us from going?” “I’m not stopping you.” “I’m just confirming that yesterday you promised no one would leave, and now you’re leaving.” My mother stopped walking. “Summer, we can file the paperwork this afternoon.” “Chloe is very upset right now.” “I’m very upset right now, too.” She froze. I asked her: “Why is it that when she’s upset, you all have to leave immediately?” “But when I’m upset, it can wait until this afternoon?” “Because she’s sick.” “So as long as she’s sick, everything in my life gets pushed to the back of the line. Is that right?” My mother’s lips parted, but she had no answer. Chloe suddenly crouched down on the floor, clutching her chest and gasping for air. That ended the conversation. My mother and my three brothers rushed to her side. My father got a call from the office and walked away to take it. In less than two minutes, they had escorted Chloe out of City Hall. Before he left, my father looked back at me. “Just wait here for the driver to bring the document.” “We’ll be back as soon as we sort this out.” “How long?” “Stop being so difficult.” “Give me an ETA.” My father looked furious. “How am I supposed to know?!” The elevator doors slid shut in front of them. The clerk, holding my stack of files, asked cautiously: “Are we still processing this?” I looked out the glass doors. Their car was already pulling out of the parking lot. The six people who promised to welcome me home yesterday hadn’t left a single person behind. I took the application form back. The clerk thought I was giving up. “I can hold onto these copies for you. You can come back another day.” “No need.” I ripped the page applying for a transfer into the Sterling household in half. “Excuse me, I have a question.” “I’m not transferring into the Sterling family anymore.” “If I want to transfer my residency out of my old county, do I have any other options?” The clerk informed me that I could register under my employer’s corporate residency pool. I had worked in this city for six years, and my tax records and social security were all up to date. It turned out that even without the Sterling family, I still had a place to belong. I called my company’s HR department. After explaining the situation, the HR rep immediately sent over the acceptance letter. “You should have said something sooner, this is easy.” I stared at the electronic PDF on my phone. A process the Sterling family had dragged out for three years was handled in fifteen minutes. By 2:00 PM, I received my official residency confirmation receipt. There were no new messages in the family group chat. The last message was still the one my mother sent that morning. “We are welcoming Summer home today. No one is allowed to be absent tonight.” Beneath it were five perfectly aligned replies. “Received.” I stared at those five “Received” messages for a few seconds, then left the group chat. When I returned to the Sterling house, the living room was empty. The housekeeper was directing movers to carry Chloe’s boxes back into her bedroom. He looked embarrassed when he saw me. “Miss Summer, Madam said we aren’t switching rooms for now.” “Miss Chloe is a bit emotionally unstable.” “Okay.” He looked confused. “You aren’t going to ask why?” “I already know.” I went upstairs to pack. Calling it packing was an overstatement. I didn’t have much. Three years ago, I arrived with one suitcase. Three years later, I was leaving with one suitcase. The dresses with the tags still on them in my closet were gifts from my mother—she bought them in Chloe’s size by mistake and just gave them to me. The men’s watch on my desk was a gift Liam bought for Julian, but he accidentally bought a duplicate and dumped it on me. Mason once gave me a box of sleep aids. He didn’t know I was severely allergic to one of the active ingredients. Julian had never given me anything. The very first time he met me, he said: “Chloe is timid. Don’t use your status as the biological daughter to bully her.” I left everything that didn’t belong to me exactly where it was. I only packed my IDs, my laptop, and an old photo album my grandmother had left me. The housekeeper chased me to the front door. “Miss Summer, where are you going?” “I’m moving out.” “Do Mr. and Mrs. Sterling know?” “No.” “I have to call them.” “Go ahead.” I dropped my bedroom key into his hand. “And while you’re at it, let them know the guest room is vacant.” The housekeeper turned pale. “This isn’t a guest room, it’s your bedroom.” “My name isn’t on the door.” “There are no clothes that fit me in the closet.” “I’ve lived in it for three years, and you all still call it the guest room.” I asked him seriously: “In what way is this my bedroom?” The housekeeper was speechless. I dragged my suitcase down the steps. Right on cue, Chloe returned, surrounded by the entire family. She looked perfectly fine, holding a bubble tea in her hand. When she saw my suitcase, her footsteps faltered. “Sister, where are you going?” “I’m moving out.” My mother rushed forward and clamped her hands on the suitcase handle. “Just because we didn’t wait with you for your paperwork today?” “It’s not just today.” “Then tell me, what else is it?” I looked at her. “You gave her the bedroom because she was used to it.” “You gave her the jade pendant because she was sick.” “You all chased after her at the dinner because she was upset.” “You abandoned me at City Hall because she had anxiety.” “There’s always an excuse.” My mother’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Then why didn’t you tell me sooner that this bothered you so much?” “I did ask.” “You told me I was nitpicking.” Her hands froze on the handle. Liam blocked the front door. “Put the suitcase down. Whatever it is, we can sit down and talk.” “Talk about what?” “You want the room? It’s yours.” “You want the pendant? I’ll make Chloe give it back.” Chloe’s face drained of color. I asked Liam: “When I asked for it yesterday, why didn’t you give it to me?” “Everyone was angry yesterday.” “So why are you offering it today?” “Because you’re leaving.” He fell silent. I nodded. “So it’s not because you suddenly realized I deserve it.” “It’s because you realized that if I don’t get it, I’ll walk away.” My father approached, his face dark with fury. “Summer, you are twenty-five years old. Stop threatening your parents with running away from home.” “I’m not threatening you.” “Then what are you doing with that suitcase?” “I’m notifying you.” “I’ve already moved out.” Julian let out a bitter laugh. “Where exactly are you going to go?” “Do you have any idea how much rent costs out there?” “Yes.” “If you live alone, who is going to take care of you when you’re sick?” “I took care of myself before I came here.” His sarcastic smile vanished. Chloe stepped forward and reached for my arm. “Sister, please don’t tear this family apart because of me.” “Whatever you want, I’ll give it back.” I looked down at her hand. “You just said ‘because of me’.” “So you know my leaving has everything to do with you?” She quickly let go of my arm. “That’s not what I meant.” “Then what did you mean?” Her eyes filled with tears again. My mother instinctively stepped in front of Chloe to shield her. The moment she did it, she realized what she had done and froze. I looked at my mother’s body standing between us. This time, I didn’t ask a single question. My father was about to say something else, but his phone rang. It was my company, calling to confirm my corporate residency filing. I dragged my suitcase around them. My father barked at me from behind: “If you walk out that door today, don’t expect us to come pick you up!” “Okay.” The space behind me fell utterly silent.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574791”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I suddenly appeared in front of my long-distance boyfriend. He looked fresh and clean, holding a bouquet of lisianthus. “Liam.” The moment he turned and saw me, the smile on his face froze. His eyes were filled with nothing but guilt and fear. “What are you doing here?” I looked down and smiled. Even though I hadn’t seen the girl with my own eyes yet. I knew there was no point in agonizing over it anymore. I asked, knowing the answer perfectly well, “Aren’t you happy to see me?” Liam kept repeating his question, “Why, why are you here?” He forced a smile. “H-happy, of course I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be? But I have a get-together later, and you…” Liam was still young, unable to hide his emotions. He was trying to figure out how to reject me, how to avoid taking me along. I didn’t give him the time. I hailed a cab. “Let’s go. I’ll come with you.” Inside the car, Liam reluctantly gave the address. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hands shaking as he typed on his phone. I was six years older than him. For the past four years of his college life, I had paid for his food, clothes, housing, and transportation. When we went out, I never blinked at a ten-thousand-dollar bill. Liam was young and a bit stubborn, but I never got angry. He thought I would always be this easygoing. I turned my head, looking at the hair tie on his wrist. But this time, he had gone too far. Liam was typing furiously, the sweat on his forehead multiplying. I caught a glimpse. His group chat was already buzzing about me. [Bro, no way? Who? That sugar mommy who’s six years older than you?] [She’s so desperate, following you all the way here!] [Is she next to you right now? Take a good sniff, does she smell like an old lady! Hahaha!] [Liam, the fact that you can even stomach that, you must be really desperate. Respect! Hahaha!] Liam impatiently turned off his phone. When he looked out the window, he was clearly distracted. “It’s just a guys’ night out, we’re going to be drinking. You probably wouldn’t enjoy it. How about…” The driver turned around. “Hello, we’re here.” I got out of the car and walked towards the entertainment complex. Liam followed behind me with his head down. I stared at him, teasing him on purpose, “What were you saying?” He looked up, then avoided my gaze. “Next time you come, at least give me a heads up.” I smiled faintly. “Am I ruining a good time?” “That’s not what I meant. Forget it, there’s no talking to you. Let’s just go inside.” Liam hurried ahead, his steps getting faster and faster, looking like he couldn’t wait to ditch me. He turned a corner and walked far ahead. A manager nearby let out a sound of surprise. “Oh? Ms. Davis? What brings you to Seaport? I honestly didn’t know, or I would have prepared a welcome for you.” The manager glanced at the VIP room ahead. “We just got some excellent new wine in, I’ll send a few bottles to your room for you to try!” “Mm.” I pushed past the people in front of me and entered the VIP room. The room was filled with smoke. Colorful strobe lights pierced through the haze. The moment I walked in, a sharp smell of alcohol hit me. I scanned the room. Men and women were dancing intimately together. This was far from the “simple get-together” Liam had described. Liam was surrounded by them. His frat brothers were patting his shoulders and blocking his way. “Is the older sugar mommy here?” “She’s right behind me.” Laughter erupted. They all teased him, “Liam, who are those flowers for? Our little sorority sister, or the rich old lady?” “Liam, what took you so long? You’re sweating.” “Hahaha, someone’s going to be worried about him.” “Lily’s hands are cold, why don’t you go warm them up, Liam.” “Hahahaha!” I pulled out a chair and sat down on the side. My gaze fell on the young girl named Lily. Lily, lisianthus. That bouquet of flowers was for her. Soon, Liam shoved the flowers into my arms. “To welcome you.” I took them. “Thanks.” But they weren’t mine, and I didn’t want them. I turned and threw them into the trash can, wiping the water from my hands onto Liam’s face. “You know I’m a germaphobe.” Liam squeezed my hand tightly, whispering through gritted teeth, “With all these people watching, show me some respect.” I chuckled, before I could even sit back down. I saw the young girl squeeze in front of me, wrap her arms around Liam’s shoulders, stand on her tiptoes, and lick the water off his face until it was completely dry. The room erupted in screams. Liam instantly pushed the people in front of him away, looking at me in terror. Like them, I smiled and applauded their courage. “Sorry, ma’am, Lily had a little too much to drink, you don’t mind, do you?” One of Liam’s frat brothers came out with a beer bottle to smooth things over. “Oh come on, she’s not like that. She’s seen it all, she wouldn’t get mad at a little girl.” “Besides, those two are so close they could share a pair of pants. If there was anything between them, it would have happened a long time ago.” Liam also explained, “I only see her as a little sister. It would be petty of you to hold a grudge against a young girl.” He sounded so righteous, yet he secretly pulled her behind him, shielding her completely. Two of Liam’s brothers pulled her back, “Liam, come here, you don’t need to explain so much to her.” Liam frowned, “She’s not like everyone else, she has a bad temper.” A few of them whispered suggestions. “Oh, you don’t understand. Even if she’s different, she’s still a woman, right? With so many of us here, she has to save face for us. You can just sweet-talk her when you get back, and it’ll all be fine.” “Yeah, with so many people watching, no matter how angry she is, she has to hold it in.” I took a sip of wine and looked up, meeting a pair of cold eyes. I hadn’t noticed him since I arrived, sitting in a dark corner—a handsome young man. Seeing me look at him, he hurriedly lowered his head. I swirled the wine in my glass. The new wine was indeed quite good. “Ma’am, if you’re mad at Liam because of me, I apologize.” Lily shakily came over to bow to me. Liam immediately went to help her up, but Lily was stubborn and refused to stand straight. She looked as if she would stay bowed until I forgave her. She blocked my way, crying and sniffling. “Ma’am, isn’t this a bit unreasonable of you? We’re all friends here. Isn’t it normal for friends to joke around? You’re older, don’t be a spoilsport, okay?” Liam was frantic and stuttering, “That’s enough, what more do you want from her? Are you trying to force a little girl to her death? I just don’t understand, what did she even do wrong?” I lost my mood for wine tasting. I tapped the table with one hand and spoke calmly. “I’m older, I don’t want to make things difficult for a little girl. It would be embarrassing if word got out.” Hearing this, Liam’s expression softened considerably. Lily also finally agreed to stand up. The brothers exchanged glances, incredibly smug. I had no idea what they were so smug about. And I couldn’t be bothered to get involved in the drama of young people. But family matters always need to be dealt with. I smiled at Liam. Liam also smiled back cheekily. I grabbed the half-empty wine bottle on the table and smashed it directly onto Liam’s head. With a bang, the bottle shattered, and red wine splattered everywhere. It ran down Liam’s face, staining his shirt a bright red. No one dared to speak. They all stared blankly. “What are you doing!” Lily was the first to rush forward, wiping Liam’s face. She was so distressed her voice trembled, “Are you crazy! What right do you have to hit him! Do you think you’re so great just because you have some filthy money!” The little girl’s voice was shrill. So sharp it made me frown. It was too loud. The bouncers outside rushed in upon hearing the noise, “What’s going on here!” Lily immediately perked up, “She started a fight in your establishment! According to your rules, you should chop off her fingers to set an example!” The bouncers surveyed the scene. “Ma’am…” Just as he was about to speak, I interrupted, “Ask him yourselves, did I lay a hand on him?” Liam had been hit hard. He leaned on Lily, his whole body trembling. “No.” He panted heavily and continued, “I hit myself. It has nothing to do with her.” The bouncers looked at each other in confusion. Liam’s frat brother jumped out. “Liam, did you get hit so hard you’re stupid! You guys, don’t leave! My friend is talking nonsense. We all saw it, it was clearly this old woman who hit him!” Liam tried to stop him, raising his hand, but he was powerless. Lily also unleashed all her anger, pointing at me and shouting. “What are you pretending for, you deadbeat? Fine, you dare to do it but don’t dare to admit it? Aren’t you embarrassed at your age?” “Guys, isn’t there security footage? Let’s just check the cameras to see if she hit him!” After a moment of silence, the bouncers walked towards me again. Their attitude was noticeably worse than before. “Ma’am, we must remind you that we don’t tolerate trouble in our club. You’d better come with us.” He smiled, “Don’t force us to get physical.” I found it amusing, “You want to take me away, is that it?” The bouncer kept smiling, pulling out a baton from behind his back. I flipped the table. The VIP room erupted into chaos. In the confusion, Lily raised her voice, “Look! Look! Her true colors are showing! Are you crazy? Where do you think you are? You dare to flip a table in public! Where do you get the nerve!” “We picked this place because we were afraid you’d cause trouble, but we didn’t expect you to actually dare. We can’t protect you now, hurry up and take her away to teach her a lesson!” Lily pointed at me arrogantly, the smile on her lips incredibly smug. Two of the bouncers were furious. “Our club has always advocated peace. Even a dragon has to coil up here. Ma’am, causing trouble like this is disrespecting our club. Even if God himself came down today, he couldn’t protect you.” “Come with us.” I kicked away the broken bowl at my feet and snorted coldly. Lily stood in the crowd, unable to suppress her smile. She casually smoothed her clothes and sauntered over to me. Lily looked down at me condescendingly, “Ma’am, are you starting to regret this now?” She deliberately feigned concern, “You just caused such a huge scene and flipped a table. Now even the people here are involved. What do you think is going to happen to you? I’m so worried about you!” I didn’t answer, just looked at her quietly. Seeing me silent, Lily thought she had hit a nerve, her smile growing even more smug. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Weren’t you acting so tough just a minute ago?” She turned to the bouncers, “She just said she was going to make you pay for this.” Hearing this, the bouncers also laughed. One of them crossed his arms and looked at me coldly, “We have rules here. Anyone who causes trouble, no matter who they are, must face the consequences.” “As for what happens in the end, it depends on whether you cooperate or not. What do you say, ma’am?” Saying this, the bouncer glanced at me. Lily didn’t hold back either, immediately chiming in. “She doesn’t really think that just because she knows a few rich people, no one would dare touch her, does she?” Lily leaned in, our gazes meeting, “What do you think, ma’am?” She dragged out the last word, making it sound more like a provocation. After speaking, she deliberately glanced at Liam. Liam stood at the back of the crowd, looking awful. The moment our eyes met, Liam looked down. I looked at him and said calmly, “What do you think?” Liam hadn’t expected me to suddenly ask him. He froze for a moment. His lips moved, but he couldn’t utter a single word. But I had all the time in the world to wait for him. I just kept looking at him. He looked at me calmly, and finally just said, “Let it go, let’s go back. Making a big deal out of this won’t look good.” Hearing this, I suddenly laughed. Go back? He said it so casually, like an outsider. Seeing his hesitation, Liam’s friends quickly chimed in. “Liam, you really must have been hit stupid. Even if you agree, did you ask if these bouncers agree? This isn’t the time to play favorites.” Someone else chimed in, “Yeah, if you make a mistake, you have to face the music. You’re doing this for her own good, but she has to take her own lumps for the mistakes she made. She’s your girlfriend, sure, but she also broke the rules here.” The lead bouncer spoke sternly, “Where do you think you are! Rules are rules, no matter who comes.” Liam’s so-called friends spoke as if they had no choice, but the excitement in their eyes was impossible to hide. What they wanted to see was me looking pathetic and begging for mercy. I glanced at Liam. He hid behind his friends, not making a sound. At that moment, I suddenly felt it was ridiculous. The bouncers behind me shoved me, “You won’t be laughing in a minute.” I picked up the phone from the table and glanced at the people behind me. “Whether I’ll be laughing or not, I don’t know. But you’re definitely not keeping that finger.” “Hilarious, don’t push your luck. I gave you a chance earlier, but you didn’t take it, so don’t blame me for getting rough!” I looked at him calmly, “If you dare to touch me, I guarantee you will regret it.” With those words, a burst of laughter erupted in the VIP room. That bouncer looked me up and down, as if he was listening to a joke. “Make us regret it? I’d love to see what you’re capable of.” Lily stood nearby, smiling even more smugly. “Ma’am, it’s one thing to act tough with us. But acting tough with them, do you have a death wish?” I ignored her. I just took out my phone and dialed a number. The phone rang a few times and was quickly answered. “Ms. Davis! How’s the new wine?” The familiar voice came through, but I didn’t answer. I looked at the people in front of me, my tone still calm. “Your people want to chop off my hands and feet, is that true?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574790”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

During my sophomore year of college, the webcomic I’d been serializing went viral. Internet sleuths quickly figured out that the male lead was based on Julian Vance, the undisputed heartthrob of our university. The online friend I had been chatting with for ten years sent me a message: “If the male lead is based on me, are you the female lead? Wait, are you a girl?” Julian stubbornly insisted we meet offline. So, I set the date for three weeks later—the exact day the final chapter of my comic was scheduled to drop. But the day before we were supposed to meet, my roommate, Chloe Sterling, confessed her feelings to Julian. The method she used for her confession was ripped straight from the ending of my comic. And they started dating. Chloe looked at me apologetically and said, “I’m sorry I borrowed the concept from your comic. Julian and I will treat you to dinner to make up for it.” I silently pulled out my phone and sent Julian a single text: “I’m not Chloe.” 1 When I hit send, Chloe was still staring at me. “Or if there’s something you really want but can’t afford, I can ask my boyfriend to buy it for you?” My other two roommates couldn’t stand it anymore. “We all know Mia has had a crush on Julian for years. How could you just steal her idea?” “Yeah, that’s not ‘borrowing.’ That’s plagiarism.” Chloe started to cry, but no one stepped up to comfort her. I had been drawing my webcomic, Sleepless in Time, since I graduated high school. After starting college, I often used my drawing tablet in the dorm. The three of them knew I was the author and had promised to keep it a secret. In return, I’d regularly use my earnings to buy them nice gifts. I just never expected the comic to blow up, or for people to figure out that Julian was the inspiration for the male lead. Back then, Chloe had asked me, “Mia, you don’t have a thing for Julian, do you?” I hadn’t answered. She just laughed. “He’s been the center of attention since freshman year. I heard he’s always in the top ten of the math department, and girls throw themselves at him.” “But you probably don’t understand guys like him. Good-looking, comes from money… Even though he claims to be single, he definitely has a bunch of side flings…” “He’s not like that,” I interrupted without thinking. That was when they figured out my secret. Chloe gasped. “Oh my god, I’m totally shipping you two now!” She relentlessly begged me to let her read the drafted ending early. I didn’t think much of it and let her, just reminding them all to keep it a secret. It wasn’t until tonight, when one of my roommates called and told me to check the university Discord server, that I realized what had happened. The server was flooded with videos shot from multiple angles. Under the glowing sunset on the Campus Green, a bright, beautiful girl stopped the boy. She executed a grand, romantic, and breathtakingly public confession. Exactly like the female lead in my comic. At the end of the video, Chloe, with teary eyes, looked at Julian and asked, “I’ve never done this for anyone else. I’m giving all my courage and love to you. Will you be with me?” That line was also directly stolen from my final chapter. In my comic, the male lead pulls the girl into a tight embrace. Julian didn’t do that. He simply reached out and wiped Chloe’s tears. The crowd around them erupted into cheers. Everyone was chanting for them to get together. Through the grainy audio, I heard his response loud and clear. He said, “Okay.” May 20, 2026. They became a couple. 2 “My goddess had a crush on someone for two years! I’m heartbroken!” “Does anyone else think her confession was incredibly moving? Usually, guys are the ones putting their history out there like that.” “So sweet! They’re each other’s first loves!” “Is anyone else reading ‘Sleepless in Time’? Omg, it feels like the comic characters stepped into real life!” In a server with thousands of students, the notifications hit 99+ in seconds. At this moment, Chloe had wiped her tears, her voice defensive. “I just wanted to be brave for once. Is that a crime?” “Please don’t let this ruin our friendship, okay?” I held back my roommate, who was about to snap at her, and looked at Chloe with ice in my eyes. “You and I are no longer friends.” Chloe ran out of the room with red eyes and didn’t return until right before curfew. The moment lights-out hit, Julian finally replied. “Hm?” “Why would you think I got the wrong person?” I froze. His messages kept coming. “When Chloe said all those things that proved how well she knew me, I actually thought for a second that you had come to see me early.” “But as soon as she started talking about her past, I knew it wasn’t you.” I stared at his texts. The anger and betrayal I had been feeling began to recede. What crawled up my spine instead was an overwhelming, suffocating sense of humiliation. But I refused to swallow the truth I had prepared to say. I typed quickly: “Chloe read the ending of my comic. The confession she planned was a direct copy of the final scene I drew.” Afraid he wouldn’t believe me, I switched apps to send him the digital manuscript files. But a new message popped up on my screen. Julian: “I know.” “She ran out of her dorm to find me and confessed that her idea came from her roommate’s comic.” 3 I hit backspace on the files and returned to the chat. After that text, there was a long pause of “Julian is typing…” I started typing too: “The way she understands you, the words that moved you… she might have stolen all of it from my story…” I typed it out, then deleted it character by character. Because in that moment, I realized I sounded like the jealous, bitter antagonist trying to break up the main couple. Julian’s next massive text finally came through. “I don’t care about the rest. All I’ve ever wanted was pure, unconditional devotion without any hidden motives. She told me…” It was a massive paragraph detailing exactly how Chloe had moved his heart. It was completely out of character for him. For the past ten years, our conversations were usually about complex math theorems, or briefly sharing updates about our days. Whether it was an exam question or a life crisis, he always preferred giving conclusions and skimming over the process. Yet here he was, sending me walls of text. “Two years ago, you thanked me for asking to use me as the inspiration for your male lead.” “Now, I want to thank you, because you brought the leading lady of my life to me.” My finger hovered over the screen. I couldn’t move. I finally understood. He didn’t need me to say anything. When the comic was at its peak popularity, Julian had messaged me: “I saw the comic. If the guy is me, is the girl you? Wait, are you a girl?” My profile had always been set to the default genderless settings. I told him that aside from gender, the female lead was the exact opposite of who I was in real life. He replied: “Then I want to get to know you even more.” But now, through the cold glow of my screen, he was telling me: “I’m really lucky to have you as a friend. Honestly, I should at least buy you a meal.” “But I just got a girlfriend, and I can’t let her feel insecure or jealous. I think it’s best if we don’t meet up tomorrow.” “What do you think?” 4 Julian wasn’t actually asking for my opinion. He wasn’t asking to reschedule, either. He was just trying to let me down gently, preserving whatever dignity I had left. I thought to myself, Staring at a phone screen in the dark really makes your eyes hurt. Hot, acidic tears slipped from my eyes and hit the glass screen. I typed back: “Haha, for sure.” He sent a substantial amount of money via Apple Pay with the note: “Sorry.” I hit decline. “No need lol.” Then I quickly added: “It’s late. Get some sleep.” He replied: “Yeah.” By some unspoken agreement, neither of us said “Goodnight” like we used to. A word with that much intimacy no longer belonged to us. I stared at the chat log, then glanced at the timestamp at the top of my screen: May 21, 2026. 1:17 AM. The connection I had spent eleven years trying to build with him ended right here. It ended so easily. So absurdly. I lay in bed, tossing and turning in a hazy, sleepless fog. The next day, I dragged myself to my morning lectures. With no classes in the afternoon, I went back to the dorm to sleep. Loud chatter bleeding through my bed curtains woke me up. “I told you when I was filming it that it would go viral, and it totally did!” “Chloe, you’re amazing! You actually bagged the untouchable math god!” “By the way, you snuck out to see him again last night. Did you guys finally kiss?” It was Chloe’s friends from another dorm. Chloe giggled coyly. “Oh my god, not that fast…” They gossiped a bit more before leaving to grab dinner. Once the door clicked shut, the room fell silent again. I opened TikTok. The very first video on my For You Page was hers. It was the confession under the sunset. The caption read: Year two of having a crush on him. The secret is finally out. 5 Boosted by the algorithm of a top-tier university and their insane good looks, the video, posted just last night, had already hit a million likes. Chloe, who originally had barely two thousand followers, gained a hundred thousand overnight. As the video looped for the second time, I paused it and opened the comments. The top comment was showering them with blessings. The second top comment was a massive paragraph: “I’ve watched this like five times, and it is EXACTLY like the confession from the female lead in ‘Sleepless in Time’! The author literally uploaded the final chapter at 6 AM today, but the creator of this video did it yesterday in real life! I’m going out on a limb here—are you the author?! Are you finishing the comic’s story in real life?! I’m literally sobbing T_T” The replies beneath it were full of things like “Omg you’re so right” and “Protect the author’s identity!” That comment was posted eight hours ago. Chloe hadn’t clarified a thing. The trending search bar at the top of the comments literally read: Sleepless in Time Author Confesses. I opened my comic’s dashboard. The top reader comments were spiraling. “Author!! The girl in the viral TikTok is you, right?! You guys are so cute!” “Begging on my knees for a slice-of-life sequel of you two dating ORZ” I picked one of the comments and replied: “The author has never been in a relationship. There will be no sequel.” I put my phone face down. The world went quiet again. The female lead I wrote was named Elara. She was a little ball of sunshine, had loving parents, and came from a wealthy family. She wasn’t the best at school, but everyone adored her. She was eternally optimistic and grew up happily alongside her childhood best friend. I realized my mistake. I shouldn’t have blurred the lines between fiction and reality. I tried to force my brain to focus on my advanced calculus homework. I stared at one proof for ages but couldn’t find an angle. Normally, I would snap a picture of it and text it to Julian to debate it with him. But now… Frustrated, I slammed my notebook shut and picked up my phone again, mindlessly scrolling through dopamine-hit videos. The next video had a location tag for our university. It was filmed from a candid, paparazzi-style angle. A guy and a girl were walking side by side down the tree-lined campus path. I recognized Julian’s broad shoulders instantly. Even though we had been in the same department for two years, I rarely actually ran into him. My luck was terrible; even for massive general ed lectures, our schedules never aligned. The only exception was a Differential Equations class one semester. Julian’s roommate always saved him a seat in the second-to-last row by the window. Because of that, it was the only class where I deliberately sat in the very back row. For three hours a week, all I had to do was look up to see the back of his head. Right now, in the video, his back was to the camera. The girl next to him, who barely reached his shoulder, sneakily reached out to brush his hand. He quickly pulled his hand away, but his ears turned bright red. 6 The video zoomed in aggressively on his red ears. Bold text flashed on the screen: MY SHIP IS SO PURE! The caption read: Bumped into campus’s newest power couple on my way to the dining hall! I clicked on the creator’s profile. I recognized her as one of the girls in Chloe’s major who often hung out in our dorm. I deleted the app entirely. For the next few days, I threw myself into studying, eating, and sleeping, just like I always did. Nothing really changed. Except occasionally, I’d catch snippets of excited gossip between classes. “I saw Julian bring his girlfriend to class this morning! She’s even prettier in person.” “Power couple fr! They’re so sweet!” “I heard he bought all of her best friends matching Cartier necklaces. Can you please find a boyfriend like that for us?!” “First you have to find another Julian Vance.” I kept my head down, still wrestling with the math proof I hadn’t solved. I wasn’t in a rush. I knew there was always a solution eventually. The lecture flew by. I was stuffing my books into my tote bag as I walked toward the exit. “Hurry, I’m starving!” Someone ran up from behind and clipped my shoulder. It wasn’t a hard hit, but a few sheets of scratch paper slipped out of my notebook and fluttered to the floor. The guy quickly apologized. The friend waiting for him at the door rushed over to help pick them up. “Sorry about that, my roommate is clumsy.” My heart skipped a beat. As I reached down, my hand brushed against the other person’s. I yanked it back like I’d been burned. He was holding my scratch paper, looking at it in surprise. “You’re working on this proof too?” I slowly, painfully looked up at Julian Vance. In the scenarios I used to daydream about, our official first meeting was supposed to be under the sunset on the Campus Green. Grand, romantic, and bathed in light. Not fumbling over dropped papers in a crowded hallway. But Julian’s eyes lit up the second he saw me. “Mia Winters. It’s you.” “Did you solve this proof?” 7 I froze. “You know who I am?” Julian smiled. The pale afternoon sun caught in his eyes. It was devastatingly handsome. “Freshman year, first day of advanced calc. The TA put a ridiculously hard ‘hazing’ question on the board, and you were the only one in the room who solved it on the spot. I think half the department knows who you are.” I had never, in my wildest dreams, imagined that his eyes had ever been on me. “We… we were in the same calc class?” Julian looked a bit embarrassed and pointed at the guy next to him. “We’re roommates. He couldn’t wake up for morning classes, and my calc lecture was in the afternoon, so… you know.” The roommate scratched his head sheepishly. “I only got away with it until week three when the professor caught on.” “I see.” “So, Mia, did you figure out the proof? I’ve been staring at it for days and I can’t seem to—” His sentence was cut off by a shrill voice. “What are you doing?!” I didn’t look back. Julian gave me an apologetic look and handed me my scratch paper. “Sorry, my girlfriend is here. I think she misunderstood.” I took the paper. Chloe jogged over like a hurricane. The roommate quickly jumped in. “Whoa, whoa, I swear on my life, Julian wasn’t talking to other girls. He was just helping me pick up some papers I dropped.” Chloe shot me a look of pure paranoia, then grabbed Julian’s arm. “Let’s go eat, come on, come on.” Julian let himself be dragged away, but he looked over his shoulder and gave me a polite nod. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of chocolate, and handed it to Chloe. “Eat this first, or your blood sugar will drop again.” His roommate lingered just long enough to whisper, “Don’t mind her. He just spoils her too much.” Then he jogged after them. The wind carried Julian’s indulgent voice back to me. “You get jealous so easily. If you weren’t dating me, what would you do…” I walked down the opposite stairwell. I remembered chatting with Julian back in high school. He told me he hated chocolate, but it was the number one thing girls gifted him. I told him I’d actually never tried chocolate before. A long time later, Julian sent me a photo. It was a picture of dozens of unwrapped chocolates. Next to each one, he had written down its flavor profile and texture. He wrote: “I taste-tested them all for you for now. When you get the chance, you should try them yourself. You might actually like it.” So, was chocolate actually good? By the time I reached the ground floor, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Chloe. “I am begging you, have some self-respect. Stay away from him, okay?” The harsh midday sun beat down on me. I squeezed my eyes shut. Block. Delete. Then, I stepped out into the sunlight. Julian. If “love me, love my dog” is a thing, then if I hate your girlfriend, does it mean I have to stop loving you? 8 June rolled around. The college students who missed being kids were celebrating Children’s Day. The student council handed out lollipops to everyone walking out of the main academic building. When a girl handed me mine, she hesitated. I recognized her from some of my massive lectures. I had walked quite a distance when she came jogging after me. “Um, hey, you’re the math god, right? Is Chloe Sterling your roommate?” I stopped and nodded. She struggled to find the right words. “Her newest video… I think it’s about you. I mean, you’re the only girl in the top five of our major. But I wasn’t totally sure… I just thought what she said was way over the line, and you should probably see it…” Her friend ran up and grabbed her arm. “Dude, why are you talking to someone like her? Gross! Just because she gets good grades doesn’t mean—” Before she could finish, the first girl slapped a hand over her mouth. I frowned at her. “Apologize.” The second girl looked annoyed but puffed up defensively. “Excuse me? Do you have no shame? Being a delusional pick-me over someone else’s boyfriend? And playing into that toxic competitive crap? Now everyone’s saying our math department girls are a joke—” The first girl frantically covered her mouth again. “I am so sorry! She has no filter, I’m so sorry!” My two roommates had caught up to me and flanked me on both sides. We weren’t going to just let this go. We dragged them into an empty classroom to get the full story. My comment clarifying that I wasn’t the girl in the video had sparked a war. Someone took my comment to Chloe’s TikTok and demanded answers. Chloe clarified that she wasn’t the author of the comic. Then someone dropped the ultimate question: Wait, so the author copied a real-life event? Damn, she draws fast. A hardcore fan of mine refused to believe it. They made a massive deep-dive video proving that an artist on a strict publishing schedule would have drawn the ending weeks in advance. They concluded that my draft must have been leaked and Chloe copied it. The two sides went to war in the comments, pushing the drama to peak virality. So, four days after the confession video, Chloe posted a second one. In the video, Chloe stared into the camera with red, teary eyes and said: “My roommate is the author of ‘Sleepless in Time.’ She’s in the top five of our math department. She’s someone I always looked up to.” “I always saw her as a role model and a best friend.” “I just never expected that one day, she would throw away our friendship just because she realized she had a crush on my boyfriend.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574789”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My fiancé vanished on a covert mission four years ago. I never gave up looking for him. In my past life, when I finally tracked him down, he had assumed a new identity and was living a quiet life with the bar owner who had saved him. I ripped open his past, forcing her to step aside. To protect him, she was stabbed to death in an alley by his old enemies. Later, he dug up every skeleton in my family’s closet and personally handed the files over to the district attorney. I knelt in front of him, begging him to spare my father. He leaned down, his voice chillingly soft: “Weren’t you the expert at exposing people’s scars?” “This time, it’s the Vance family’s turn to be stripped bare.” When I opened my eyes again, my informant had just handed me a new photo of him. In the picture, he was lighting a cigarette for her, his eyes filled with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in years. I closed the file folder. “Burn this lead. We’re done.” 1 “Maya, how can you just drop this?” On the other end of the line, Julian’s mother’s voice was sharp enough to pierce my eardrums. I pushed the file back into my safe, my tone flat. “Mrs. Hayes, it’s been four years. The search and rescue teams called it off three times. The task force closed the case twice. I’ve done everything I could.” “Everything?” She scoffed. “Your father can reopen a customs case with one phone call. Your brother can pull classified border files with a snap of his fingers. And you’re telling me you’ve done everything?” “Mrs. Hayes, the Vance family is not your personal bloodhound.” “Excuse me? Say that again.” I lowered my eyes, staring at the photo of the man lighting a cigarette for Chloe. The glow of the flame illuminated the sharp angles of his face. He looked so much like Julian, yet not like him at all. “I said, I’m done looking.” Dead silence fell over the line. When she spoke again, her voice wavered with tears. “Maya, I know you’re hurt, but Julian is your fiancé.” “He’s alive. You should be happy.” “He has amnesia. You should be the one to bring him home.” I asked softly, “Bring him home to do what?” She was stunned. I answered for her. “Bring him home so I can re-educate him on who he is? Tell him who he used to love? Remind him who he owes four years of his life to?” “How did you become so callous?” “I’ve always been like this, Mrs. Hayes. You just never minded it before.” Her breathing grew heavier. “Are you upset because there’s another woman with him?” I let out a quiet laugh but didn’t say anything. She seized on that laugh like it was hard evidence. “I knew it. You’re still throwing your spoiled heiress tantrums.” “She saved his life. She’s stayed by his side for four years. What right do you have to be jealous?” I flipped the photo over. On the back, my informant had scribbled: Bar owner, Chloe. Claims to be Leo’s partner. Leo. Julian’s new name. “I’m not jealous.” “You’re lying.” “Mrs. Hayes, if I were jealous, I would drive to that bar right now and slap his real ID across that woman’s face.” Her voice caught in her throat. I continued, “I’m choosing not to interfere, and yet you’re still unhappy?” “You know he’s alive, but you’re keeping it from the family. You’re trying to kill me.” “I will mail the photos to you.” “You’re not going there yourself?” “No.” “Aren’t you afraid Julian will hate you?” I looked up at the framed engagement photo on the wall. In it, Julian was fixing my veil, his eyes brimming with love. In my past life, he used those exact same eyes to watch me beg on my knees. It’s the Vance family’s turn, he had said. My fingernails dug into my palms, but my voice remained steady. “Whether he hates me or not is entirely up to him.” Mrs. Hayes finally lost her temper. “Maya Vance, your parents raised you to be a cold-blooded monster.” “If you want to break the engagement, fine.” “But you will reimburse the Hayes family for every cent we spent searching for him.” I paused. “Mrs. Hayes, the Vance family covered almost all of those expenses.” “But my family lost a son! We lost a life!” “You can’t just wash your hands of this the second you find him. You can’t leave my son with some trashy bartender!” I rubbed my temples. “Do you want me to find him, or do you want me to steal him back?” “I want you to bring him home.” “What if he doesn’t want to come back?” “Why wouldn’t he? He’s just sick.” In my past life, I thought the exact same thing. I stubbornly believed he had just forgotten me. I thought that once his memory returned, he would come back to me. But when his memories came flooding back, our engagement wasn’t the first thing on his mind. It was Chloe dragging him out of a mangled wreck in a torrential downpour. It was Chloe giving him the name ‘Leo’. It was Chloe taking a knife that was meant for him. I didn’t want to prove that I was there first anymore. What good was being first? Mrs. Hayes suddenly softened her tone. “Maya, please. I’m begging you.” “He used to listen to you more than anyone.” “One word from you is worth a hundred from us.” My eyes flicked to my phone as a text from an unknown number popped up. [Ms. Vance, I heard you’ve been looking for Leo for four years.] [I’m Chloe.] [We should talk.] The next message was a photo. It showed Julian asleep on a narrow cot behind a bar counter. Around his wrist was the braided red string bracelet I had made for him. In my past life, Chloe had snipped that bracelet off and thrown it in the trash. This time, it was still there. A voice memo followed. Her voice was sickeningly sweet. “Ms. Vance, he can’t live without me now.” “If you really love him, don’t scare him.” “People with amnesia are incredibly fragile. What if you trigger a memory and it drives him insane? Can you carry that guilt?” Through the phone receiver, Mrs. Hayes demanded, “Who are you texting?” I didn’t answer. Chloe sent another text. [Tonight, 9 PM. The Pier Alley. Neon Rose Bar.] [Come alone. Don’t bring his family.] [I don’t want to make things difficult for Leo.] I stared at the name ‘Leo’, a phantom taste of copper rising in my throat. In my past life, she had invited me the exact same way. After that night, I barged into her life like a madwoman and dragged Julian out from behind that bar. I thought I had won. Only later did I realize that was the beginning of my true nightmare. Mrs. Hayes shouted, “Maya, answer me!” I placed the phone face down on my desk. “Mrs. Hayes, I will courier the photos and the address to you.” “The Hayes family can decide what to do next.” “You’re really abandoning him?” “Yes.” Mrs. Hayes sobbed, “You have no heart.” I smiled to myself. The people with hearts died first in my last life. Before she hung up, she delivered one final warning. “Maya Vance, if you refuse to bring him home today, don’t come crying to me when he comes back on his own.” I looked at the last photo Chloe had sent. Julian was awake, glaring into the camera. His eyes were cold and guarded, like a feral animal staring down an intruder. Beneath the photo, Chloe had typed: [He asked me who Maya Vance is.] A knock came at the door. “Miss,” the butler said. “Mrs. Hayes is here. She’s kneeling at the front gate and refusing to leave.” I locked my phone screen. My voice sounded detached, even to my own ears. “Let her kneel.” 2 “Maya! Open the door! I know you’re in there!” Mrs. Hayes had been pounding on the gates all night. I sat in the living room. My father pushed a cup of hot tea toward me. “If you don’t want to see her, I’ll have security escort her home.” I shook my head. “She won’t leave.” My older brother, Liam, scoffed. “Of course she won’t. If she kneels at our gate today, tomorrow she gets to play the victim and say the Vances left her son to rot.” My mother frowned. “Liam, don’t speak like that.” “Mom, am I wrong?” Liam handed me an iPad. A local gossip forum was already blowing up. [Wealthy Heiress Abandons Missing Hero Fiancé After Finding Him; Hero’s Mother Begs on Knees in the Dead of Night.] The attached photo was of Mrs. Hayes kneeling at our gate. The angle was deliberately chosen to highlight her vulnerability, capturing every gray hair at her temples perfectly. I glanced at it and couldn’t help but laugh. My mother looked at me with aching concern. “Maya, stop laughing. It hurts to watch.” I handed the iPad back to my brother. “Chloe posted this.” Liam paused. “How do you know?” “In my past li—” I caught myself before the words slipped out, my nails biting into my palms. “She’s moving too fast. It has to be her.” My father studied my face for a moment. “You had a nightmare last night.” I murmured, “Dad, I’m fine.” “When you broke your arm as a kid, you said you were fine too.” “I really was fine that time.” “You cried so loud the whole hospital heard you. That’s what you call fine?” My mother let out a tearful chuckle. Suddenly, Mrs. Hayes’s wails echoed from the gate. “Maya! I’m begging you! I’ll kowtow to you!” “Just go see him! Don’t let that woman brainwash him!” “He’s my only son!” My mother couldn’t take it anymore. “Maybe you should just go clear the air with her?” I looked at my mother. “Mom, there’s no clearing the air.” “Why not?” “Because she doesn’t want answers. She wants to corner me into doing her dirty work.” Liam’s face darkened. “I’ll go handle her.” I stopped him. “Don’t touch her, Liam.” “She’s dragging our family’s name through the mud, and you want me to do nothing?” “Provoking you is exactly what she wants.” In my past life, Liam had gone out to force Mrs. Hayes to leave. The video was maliciously edited to make it look like Vance family bodyguards were assaulting a fallen hero’s grieving mother. When Julian regained his identity, he watched that video three times. He had said, “The Vance family is so arrogant. They don’t even flinch when stepping on someone’s face.” Those words were burned into my memory until the day I died. Seeing my expression, Liam’s voice softened. “Maya, what exactly are you afraid of?” I wanted to say: I’m afraid of you dying. But the words wouldn’t form. I just said, “I’m afraid of Julian coming back.” The living room fell silent. My father didn’t speak for a long time. “Didn’t you spend the last four years tearing the world apart looking for him?” I gripped my teacup. The rising steam stung my eyes. “I’m tired of looking.” My mother whispered, “Maya, you didn’t say that before.” She was right. Before, I said I would find him dead or alive. Before, I said Julian promised to spend every birthday with me, and he wouldn’t break that promise. Before, I watched the security footage of the day he disappeared a thousand times, until all I saw when I closed my eyes was that exploding car. But no one warned me that obsession could turn into a blade. The doorbell finally stopped ringing. The butler walked in, looking grim. “Miss, the press is outside.” Liam grabbed his jacket. “Is she insane?” The butler added quietly, “There’s also a woman live-streaming.” I opened my phone and quickly found Chloe’s stream. She was wearing a simple white sundress, standing outside my gates, clutching a battered Zippo lighter in her hands. In the video, she was crying beautifully. “I’m not here to steal him away.” “I just want to tell Ms. Vance that Leo is doing fine.” “He wakes up screaming from nightmares. He shakes when he hears sirens. He can’t afford to be traumatized by his past again.” The live chat was scrolling frantically. [She’s so sweet.] [Can the rich girl just leave the amnesiac guy alone?] [Four years and she couldn’t find him, but the second someone else saves him, she loses her mind. Typical.] [The Vance estate is terrifying. Look at all those guards.] Chloe bowed to the camera. “Ms. Vance, please don’t force him.” “If you absolutely must take him back, I will leave.” “But if he loses me… he will die.” Liam let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Who does she think she is? An oxygen tank?” “Don’t go out there,” my father said sternly. I stood up. My mother grabbed my hand. “Maya.” I patted her hand gently. “She set the stage. If I don’t make an appearance, she’ll put on a show until dawn.” Liam lowered his voice. “What are you going to say?” “I’m going to announce that the engagement is off.” “Right now?” “Right now.” As the massive gates swung open, the camera flashes were blinding. Chloe immediately turned to me, her eyes perfectly rimmed with red. “Ms. Vance. You finally came out.” She held out the lighter. “Leo asked me to hold onto this. He said looking at it gives him a migraine.” I didn’t take it. “Then keep it out of my sight.” Chloe froze, clearly not expecting that response. “You don’t even want to look at it?” “No.” She bit her lip, the tears falling right on cue. “Are you still blaming me, Ms. Vance?” “I don’t blame you.” “Then why won’t you go see him?” The cameras were shoved practically into my face. Mrs. Hayes was sobbing on the ground beside her. “Maya, you can’t be this cruel.” I looked directly into the lenses. “I, Maya Vance, am officially breaking my engagement with Julian Hayes, effective immediately.” The crowd erupted. A gleam of triumph flashed in Chloe’s eyes before she expertly masked it. “Ms. Vance, don’t make rash decisions out of spite.” “It’s not spite.” “But Leo…” “Whether his name is Leo or Julian, it has nothing to do with me anymore.” Mrs. Hayes lunged forward and grabbed the hem of my coat. “How can you say that in front of all these people?!” I looked down at her. “Mrs. Hayes, didn’t you warn me that if I didn’t go get him, I’d regret it?” She froze. I gently pulled my coat from her grip. “Then let me regret it.” Chloe suddenly stepped in front of Mrs. Hayes, playing the role of the protective, dutiful daughter-in-law. “Ms. Vance, Mama Hayes is in poor health. Please don’t agitate her.” I gave her a flat look. “You’re calling her ‘Mama’ pretty naturally now, aren’t you?” Her face went pale. The live chat was losing its mind. [Rich girl is so toxic.] [Omg why is she bullying the woman who saved his life?] [Don’t worry Chloe, Leo will protect you.] Speak of the devil. A phone started ringing. Seeing the caller ID, Chloe immediately put it on speaker. A man’s low, gravelly voice came through. “Chloe? Where are you?” My blood ran ice cold in that instant. I hadn’t heard that voice in four years. Even filtered through a speaker, it cut me to the bone. Chloe looked at me with tearful eyes, but her tone was sickeningly soft. “Leo, I’m at Ms. Vance’s house. She says she doesn’t want you anymore.” Silence hung on the line for two seconds. Then, he spoke coldly. “Good.” Chloe’s tears spilled over, looking like she had just won a prize. She held the phone out to me. “Ms. Vance. He wants to talk to you.” I didn’t take it. Julian’s voice echoed again. “Maya Vance, right?” I stared at the phone. My throat felt like it was filled with broken glass. “Yes.” “Stop having people investigate me.” “Okay.” “And stay away from Chloe.” “Okay.” He seemed surprised by how quickly I agreed. His tone grew colder. “I don’t know you, and I don’t want to know you.” I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “I know.” He paused. “You’d better.” I didn’t say anything else. Chloe ended the livestream, unable to hide her smugness. She leaned in close to me, her voice dropping to a whisper. “See, Ms. Vance? He only listens to me now.” I lowered my eyes. Her smile grew sweeter. “So bow out gracefully. Don’t make this ugly.” I looked back up at her. “Keep a tight leash on him, Chloe.” “What?” I spoke slowly. “Don’t let him go.” 3 “Ms. Vance, if you make your breakup announcement too cold, people will think you’re heartless.” Chloe sat across from me in my living room, sliding a document across the coffee table. She was dressed very plainly today, but the cuffs of her blouse were embroidered with tiny white lisianthus flowers—her namesake. She kept touching the embroidery as she spoke, a subtle reminder to everyone of her pure, innocent persona. I didn’t even glance at the document. “Who let you in?” Mrs. Hayes, sitting next to her with puffy eyes, spoke up. “I brought her.” I looked at Mrs. Hayes. “This is the Vance residence.” “I know.” Mrs. Hayes choked out a sob. “Maya, Chloe is a good girl.” Chloe immediately lowered her head. “Mama Hayes, you don’t need to defend me. Ms. Vance looks down on girls from small towns like me.” Liam let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “You’re pretty quick with the victim routine.” Chloe looked at him timidly. “Mr. Vance, I just want to protect Leo.” “Protect him? All the way into my living room?” She opened the document and pushed it closer to me. “Ms. Vance, I’d like you to sign this voluntary severance declaration.” I skimmed it. It was drafted beautifully. It stated that I voluntarily acknowledged no legal or factual marital ties with Julian Hayes, that I would voluntarily cease all search efforts, and that I would voluntarily refrain from interfering in Leo’s life under the guise of being his fiancée. The last clause was the most interesting. Should any past actions or enemies of the Vance family endanger Leo, the Vance family assumes full legal and financial responsibility. I slid the paper back to her. “Who taught you how to write this?” Chloe bit her lip. “A lawyer.” “What kind of hack lawyer would write garbage like this?” Mrs. Hayes intervened anxiously. “Maya, it’s just a formality.” “Mrs. Hayes, do you even know what this last clause means?” “I don’t understand legal talk.” “It means if anything happens to Julian in the future, they can pin the blame entirely on my family.” Mrs. Hayes’s face changed. Chloe’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “Ms. Vance, how can you assume the worst of people?” I stared at her. “You’re not a bad person. You’re just incredibly skilled at writing people into a trap.” She whispered, “I didn’t have much schooling. I don’t understand the complex games rich people play.” “You don’t understand high society, but you sure understand liability waivers,” Liam sneered. Chloe looked pitifully at Mrs. Hayes. Mrs. Hayes immediately shielded her. “Liam, you’re a grown man. Stop bullying a young girl.” Liam looked ready to throw his coffee cup at the wall. I put a hand on his arm. “Liam. Let it go.” A flash of triumph crossed Chloe’s eyes. She had won this round. She spoke softly, “Actually, Ms. Vance, I came here today for another reason.” “Speak.” “Leo has been having terrible nightmares these past few years, and his health isn’t great. He refused to go to the major hospitals because he was terrified of being tracked down. I had to borrow a lot of money to take care of him.” Mrs. Hayes immediately jumped in. “Maya, the Hayes family will pay her back.” Chloe shook her head. “Mama Hayes, I’m not here to ask for money.” With that, she placed another sheet of paper on the table. It was an itemized list. Medical bills, bar renovation costs, psychological counseling fees. The total was $3.7 million. I pointed at one specific line item. “Custom low-frequency sound system, $160,000. Is this a medical expense too?” Chloe blushed. “Leo couldn’t sleep. Listening to white noise helped him.” “A $160,000 white noise machine?” Liam mocked. “Does it grant him enlightenment?” Mrs. Hayes looked at the list, clearly embarrassed. “Chloe, these expenses…” Chloe’s tears fell on cue. “Mama Hayes, I swear I didn’t want any money.” “But Leo told me yesterday that he didn’t want to owe Ms. Vance anything.” “He said if Ms. Vance feels her four-year search was too expensive, we can reimburse her.” A sharp pain pierced my chest. “He said that?” Chloe nodded. “He said people like you demand tenfold for every cent you give.” “He has amnesia!” Mrs. Hayes rushed to defend him. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying!” I looked directly into Chloe’s eyes. She didn’t look away. This woman’s greatest weapon wasn’t playing the victim. It was knowing exactly which words would cut the deepest. In my past life, after she died, Julian listened to every single voice memo on her phone. She had recorded something remarkably similar. She said, “Leo, Ms. Vance spent so much money on you. I’m so scared she’s going to use it to control you later.” Julian replied, “Let her try.” Back then, I naively thought “let her try” meant he was defending me. I only realized later that it was sheer disgust. I picked up a pen. Liam grabbed my hand. “Are you crazy?” My mother also looked alarmed. “Maya, don’t sign that.” I looked at the declaration. “Cross out the last two clauses.” Chloe froze. “What?” “I’ll sign the severance agreement. I won’t look for him, and I won’t see him.” “But the Vance family is not taking the fall for him, and we are certainly not paying your tab.” She pursed her lips in an exaggerated pout. “Ms. Vance, Leo will think you’re being petty.” “He can think whatever he wants.” Mrs. Hayes suddenly interjected. “Maya, just sign the whole thing.” I looked up. “Mrs. Hayes?” She avoided my gaze. “Julian only trusts Chloe right now. Just humor her for a bit. Don’t agitate him.” Liam exploded. “You want my sister to foot the bill for your son’s ‘savior’?!” “What else am I supposed to do?!” Mrs. Hayes sobbed. “My son won’t even speak to me!” “So you bully my sister instead?” “Your family has money and power! What is three million dollars to you?!” My mother was shaking with rage. But suddenly, I wasn’t angry anymore. I realized some people don’t need a grand revelation to show their true colors. The second their own interests are threatened, they show exactly who they are. Chloe nudged the pen closer to me. “Ms. Vance, maybe you should just sign it.” “See? Nobody wants this to get ugly.” I picked up the pen and violently struck through the final two clauses. Chloe’s smile vanished. I signed my name. “Is this graceful enough for you?” She stared at the crossed-out lines. “Ms. Vance, it’s going to be very hard for me to explain this to Leo.” I set the pen down. “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.” Her expression shifted. Suddenly, she pulled out her phone. “Leo? She signed it. But she said your debts are my problem.” On the other end of the line, Julian’s voice was heavy. “Put her on the phone.” I didn’t take it. Chloe put it on speaker.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574788”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The year of the gas leak, Mom instinctively carried out my crying little sister first. By the time the paramedics pulled me from the kitchen, the lack of oxygen had permanently frozen my mind at the age of five. For the next thirteen years, Mom held me to sleep every night, crying and swearing that she would never leave me behind again. When Dad went on business trips, he would FaceTime me, coaxing me to count the little glow-in-the-dark stars on my bedroom wall. That was, until the day my sister Chloe got her acceptance letter to Stanford. Mom asked her what she wanted as a reward. With red, tear-filled eyes, Chloe said, “I want a graduation trip. Just the three of us… the normal ones. Just this once, please?” Looking at Chloe’s swollen eyes, my parents’ hearts softened. Before they left, Mom sat me down on the little stool by the front door. “Daisy, be a good girl. When we come back, I’ll bring you your favorite strawberry shortcake.” I nodded obediently, sitting by the door, waiting for them to return. But that very day, a transformer blew in our neighborhood, and the power went out. In less than three days, the fridge began to reek. All the food inside had spoiled. I was so thirsty. So hungry. I wanted to go outside and find Mom and Dad. But Mom had said if I stepped outside, she wouldn’t want me anymore. I curled up next to the foul-smelling fridge, clutching Mom’s jacket tightly, but I never lived to see the day they came back. … The day the Stanford acceptance letter arrived in the mail, Chloe’s tears fell on the back of her hands as she begged, “Dad, Mom… I just want one graduation trip. Just the three of us normal people. Please?” The living room fell dead silent. Sitting on the rug, I tilted my head back and looked at her in confusion. “Chloe, what does three normal people mean?” “Is Daisy normal too? Daisy wants to go on a trip!” I dropped my building blocks and reached out to grab her hand. Chloe took a step back and swatted my hand away. “You’re not! You’re not normal at all!” She screamed at me, her eyes bloodshot as she completely broke down. “Do you have any idea what these past thirteen years have been like for me because of you?!” “Even when I get straight A’s, Mom and Dad only care if you ate your dinner on time!” I flinched, shrinking back from her yelling. “Chloe, don’t cry. You can play with my blocks.” I eagerly held out my plastic blocks to her. “I don’t want your stupid blocks!” She slapped them out of my hands. The plastic pieces hit the wall and cracked. Dad frowned and pulled Chloe behind him. “Chloe, how can you speak to your sister like that?” “If we hadn’t saved you first back then, your sister’s brain wouldn’t have been damaged by the gas. How can you look down on her?” Mom pulled me into her arms, her heart breaking for me. “It’s okay, Daisy. Don’t be scared, Mom is here.” When she turned to look at Chloe, her eyes were filled with reprimand. “Chloe, your sister can’t be left alone. If we all go, what will she do?” Chloe cried even harder. “Just for a few days! Just this once!” “Since we were little, you gave all your love to her.” “What about me? I’m your daughter too! Don’t I deserve to have my parents’ undivided attention for just one trip?” Her shoulders shook violently. “I’m leaving for college out of state soon. I won’t be coming back much.” “I just want one trip where we don’t get weird stares, where we don’t have to constantly babysit someone. Is that so much to ask?!” Dad fell silent. He looked at his youngest daughter, his face twisting with conflict. “Honey, maybe we really have focused too much on Daisy over the years, and we’ve neglected Chloe.” “Daisy is older now. What if we prep the fridge with plenty of meals and set up some indoor security cameras? If we just go for three to five days, she should be fine.” Mom’s defenses began to crumble. Seeing this, Chloe immediately crouched at Mom’s feet. “Mom, I’ll teach her how to use the microwave. Please, Mom. Just this once.” Mom let out a long sigh and looked at me, her voice tentative. “Daisy, Dad, Mom, and Chloe are going away for a few days. Will you be a good girl and wait for us at home?” “Where is Mom going? Are you not taking Daisy?” Mom forced a smile. “Mom is going to buy Daisy lots of yummy treats. Daisy is a big girl now, you can stay home by yourself, right?” I puffed out my chest and nodded vigorously. “Daisy is a big girl! I can stay home!” For the next few days, the house was a flurry of activity. Mom stuffed the fridge to the brim. Chloe held my hand, teaching me over and over again. “If you’re hungry, open the top shelf of the fridge, put the container in the microwave, and press the red button. If you’re thirsty, grab the milk and juice from the second shelf.” I watched intently and shouted my answer. “I remember! Hungry, press the red button! Thirsty, drink milk!” On the day they left, Dad stood at the door with two large suitcases. Chloe finally had a smile on her face. Mom walked over and sat me down on the stool by the door. “Daisy, you have to be a good girl and wait for Mom at home.” She gripped my shoulders tightly. “And whatever you do, absolutely do not open the door and go outside. There’s a Big Bad Wolf out there who snatches away naughty kids, and then you’ll never see Mom again.” I was terrified and nodded profusely. “Daisy won’t go out! Daisy will wait right here.” Mom kissed my forehead. “Good girl. When we get back, I’ll bring you your favorite strawberry shortcake.” “Strawberry cake! I want a giant strawberry cake!” Mom took one last look at me before turning and walking out the door. Bang. The heavy front door shut behind them. The house fell dead silent, leaving only the tick-tock of the wall clock. I stared unblinkingly at the closed door. As the sky outside grew dark, the lights in the house seemed to grow brighter. My stomach started to rumble. I was just about to stand up and go to the fridge for food. Suddenly, there was a soft pop. All the lights instantly went out. The house was plunged into pitch-black darkness. I shrieked and fell back onto my stool. “Mom?” My voice echoed in the empty house. The darkness pressed in from all sides. I couldn’t even see my own hands. “Mom! I’m scared!” My tears flowed uncontrollably. I fumbled for the smartwatch on my wrist and tapped the icon with Mom’s face on it. It rang for a long time before someone answered. “Hello? Daisy, what’s wrong?” Mom’s voice sounded rushed. I could hear the sound of ocean waves in the background. “Mom, it’s dark! The house went dark!” I cried into the watch. “Daisy is scared of the dark! Mom, come back!” The other end of the line went quiet for a moment. Then, Dad’s voice came through. “What’s going on? What is Daisy saying?” “She says the house went dark. Did the power go out?” Mom sounded tense. A moment later, Dad replied, “That’s impossible. I just checked the utility app. We have a credit on the account. Why would the power go out?” Mom’s breathing grew heavier. “Should we… should we head back early?” Chloe’s voice chimed in from a distance, laced with suspicion. “Mom, don’t panic. If you’re worried, just check the security cameras.” There were a few seconds of silence. “Why are the cameras offline?” Mom asked, confused. Chloe quickly answered, “The Wi-Fi probably dropped. Our router does that all the time. Honestly, she’s probably just throwing a tantrum because she realized we aren’t coming right back.” Mom was silent for a while. “That’s true… she always acts out when I leave.” “Daisy, are you throwing a fit?” Mom’s voice turned strict. “You’re a big girl now. You can’t lie to us.” I shook my head frantically, my tears splashing onto the back of my hand. “Daisy isn’t lying! It’s really dark! I can’t see!” “Enough, Daisy. Behave.” Mom cut off my cries. “You can’t lie just because Mom left the house. If you keep doing this, Mom won’t want you anymore.” Hearing that Mom wouldn’t want me, I was so terrified I immediately swallowed my sobs. “Daisy will be good! Daisy won’t throw a fit! Please don’t throw Daisy away!” “Good. Now go turn on the lights and eat your dinner.” Mom hung up. “Daisy will turn on the lights. Daisy is a good girl.” Holding onto the wall, I felt my way to the switch and pressed it hard. Click. No lights came on. I pressed it a few more times. Still pitch black. Tears streamed silently down my face. “Mom lied. The lights are broken.” I didn’t dare call back. I was too scared Mom would throw me away. “Daisy isn’t scared. Mom will be back soon.” I hypnotized myself with those words over and over, eventually falling asleep in a state of exhaustion and terror. For the next two days, the power never came back on. When I was hungry, I grabbed a container from the fridge, but the microwave wouldn’t light up. Pressing the red button did nothing. I had to eat the cold food. The food tasted worse and worse. The milk started to taste weird, too. By the third day, a horrific stench began to waft from the fridge. I didn’t dare eat it, but my stomach grumbled violently. I pressed the call button with Dad’s face on my watch. “Dad, Daisy is hungry.” When the call connected, I was so miserable I started sobbing. In the background on Dad’s end, I could hear music and Chloe laughing. “Daisy? Why are you calling again? The fridge is full of food, how can you be hungry?” My tears fell in heavy drops. “The microwave doesn’t light up. The fridge smells yucky, and the food tastes sour. Daisy can’t eat it.” I tried my best to describe what was happening. “Sour? That’s impossible. The food is in the fridge, it shouldn’t be spoiled yet. Daisy, did you grab the wrong one? The blue container on the top left shelf—did you grab that one?” “Daisy doesn’t know… It’s all dark in the fridge at night. I can’t see the colors.” “You’re still saying it’s dark?” Dad’s voice turned icy. “Mom told you yesterday, the house isn’t dark!” “It is dark.” I patted the watch anxiously. “The milk and juice went bad too. Daisy wanted to drink water, but the sink won’t give me any.” The other end went silent. “Is the water off?” Dad’s tone shifted. “Hold on, Daisy. Dad will call the HOA.” I heard the sound of Dad dialing on another phone. A while later, Dad’s tone was completely dark. “The HOA said the community water supply is perfectly fine. There’s no shutoff.” “But… there really isn’t any water…” “Maya Daisy Miller!” Dad called me by my full name. “Yesterday you said the power was out, today you say the water is out. Are you just throwing a tantrum because we didn’t bring you with us?!” I whimpered, repeating, “There’s really no water. Daisy twisted the knob so many times…” Mom took the phone. “Daisy, Mom knows you’re upset, but you can’t use these tactics to make us worry. Every time we check, you’re making it up. How are we supposed to believe you?” “Daisy didn’t lie…” My voice grew smaller and smaller. “Alright, that’s enough. There are two bottles of water in the cabinet under the stove. Drink those for now. We’ll be home in a few days.” I obediently said okay. Chloe’s voice drifted over from a distance. “Mom, stop letting her manipulate you! Yesterday it was the power, today it’s the water. Is there gonna be an earthquake tomorrow? You finally get to spend time with me, are you just going to revolve your whole trip around her again?” Mom didn’t answer her, but there were several seconds of silence on the line. Dad sighed and spoke into the phone. “Daisy, you’ve really disappointed me.” “Eat your food and stop lying, do you understand?” “No, Dad. Daisy is so hungry. Daisy wants to go outside and find you.” Hearing that I wanted to go out, Mom’s voice spiked with panic. “Maya Miller! Don’t you dare walk out that door!” “Did you forget the last time you ran off and almost got kidnapped?!” My entire body violently shuddered. Deep in my memory, I remembered sneaking out to find Mom and getting lost on the streets. When Mom finally found me, she slapped me hard across the face. “If you ever run off again, I won’t want you! I’ll throw you in the trash!” That was the first time I had ever seen Mom that angry. The sting of that slap still lingered on my cheek. Terrified, I immediately pulled back the hand I had reached toward the doorknob. “Daisy won’t go out! Daisy will be good! Please don’t throw Daisy away!” I sobbed and begged. “Then stay in the house and behave!” With that, Mom hung up. The watch emitted a rapid beep-beep-beep. I stared desperately at the blank screen as my stomach let out another thunderous growl. So hungry. So thirsty. I fumbled my way to the cabinet under the stove. Mom said there was water there. I squatted down, reached inside, and felt around. Empty. There was nothing. I felt around again, my fingertips brushing against the very back of the wooden cabinet. There really was nothing. I sat there dazed for a moment, then crawled over to the fridge. I pulled open the door. A pungent wave of rot hit me in the face, making me gag. I felt around the top shelf, grabbed a container, popped the lid, scooped a handful with my fingers, and shoved it into my mouth. It was slimy, sour, and bitter. It was so disgusting I wanted to vomit. But I was too hungry. I swallowed the entire container of rotting food. Then I reached for the milk on the second shelf. The carton was bloated and bulging. I bit the straw and sucked hard. A rancid, sour stench shot straight to my brain. I couldn’t swallow it. With a loud retch, I threw up all over the floor. A little while later, a searing pain tore through my stomach. Clutching my belly, I curled into a ball next to the fridge, breaking out in a cold sweat from the agony. I bit my lip, forcing the whimpers to stay trapped in my throat. Day four. I was curled up next to my foul-smelling vomit. It felt like thousands of tiny bugs were biting the inside of my stomach. My throat was so dry it felt like it was splitting open. I fumbled for my watch and hit the call button. It rang for a long time. So long I thought Mom would never answer. “Hello?” Mom’s voice finally came through, accompanied by deafening cheers and the clinking of glasses. “Cheers! To Chloe’s bright future!” That was Dad’s voice. “Mom… it hurts…” I pressed the watch to my lips, forcing the words out with the last threads of my breath. “Mom… it hurts… bugs are biting Daisy’s tummy… when are you coming home?” Silence on the other end for a few seconds. I heard Dad’s voice lean in. “What is it? Did she call again?” Mom covered the receiver, but I still heard her say, “Daisy says her stomach hurts.” “Yesterday it was the power, today it’s the water, now her stomach hurts.” Dad’s voice was heavy with exhaustion. “Don’t you realize she calls the exact second we sit down to enjoy ourselves?” “The last few times were fake, and nine times out of ten, this one is too. If you go back now, what about Chloe?” Mom took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was suppressed to absolute ice. “Listen to me very carefully.” “Do you think that just because you cry wolf, this entire family has to drop everything for you?” Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes as the pain ravaged me. “No… Daisy ate yucky food… it really hurts…” Chloe’s laughing voice drifted through the phone. “Mom, the cake is here! Come blow out the candles!” Mom said to Chloe, “Daisy says her stomach hurts at home.” Chloe’s laughter stopped. “Mom, every time you believe her, she pulls this. Don’t you see she’s just—” Chloe paused. “Whatever. I’m not gonna say it. You’re always going to choose her anyway.” After another few seconds of silence on the line, Mom brought the phone back to her mouth. “Listen to me.” “It’s not that Mom doesn’t love you. But you keep lying to me over and over. If you keep acting like a brat, the minute I get home, I’m sending you to a care facility. Think about that.” My mouth hung open, but I couldn’t make a sound. Beep— The call disconnected. Mom said she was sending me away. She didn’t want me anymore. I closed my eyes in despair, the blinding pain in my stomach coming in waves. I felt my body growing colder and colder. In the dark, my hand found the jacket Mom had left behind before she walked out. It still smelled like her. I hugged the jacket tightly to my chest and buried my face in it. “Mom, Daisy won’t call anymore. Daisy will be good.” “Please don’t throw Daisy away…” In a haze, I thought I saw the front door open. Dad stood there holding a strawberry shortcake, smiling warmly at me. “Daisy, look what Dad brought you!” Mom gently pulled me into her arms. “Daisy is the best girl. Let Mom give you some cake.” Chloe stood next to us, smiling sweetly. “Come on, let’s eat it together.” I wanted to reach out, but I couldn’t lift my hand. The image in front of me grew blurrier and blurrier. Day seven. The lock clicked, and Mom’s voice echoed from the hallway: “Daisy! Mom’s home! Come see what Mom brought you!” No one answered. She slipped off her shoes and walked deeper into the house, but suddenly, she froze. In her line of sight, a stiff figure was curled up on the kitchen floor, surrounded by dried, blackened vomit. A bloodcurdling scream instantly shattered the dead silence of the house. “DAISY!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574787”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

We were having a family barbecue in the backyard. I told my girlfriend, Maya, not to brush vinegar on the grilled bell peppers. My cousin, Julian, overheard and laughed. “Grilled bell peppers need vinegar to taste good!” My mom immediately chimed in. “Julian’s right. A little vinegar definitely makes them better.” Afraid Maya would brush vinegar on all of them, I quickly warned her: “Maya, remember, leave two bell peppers without vinegar.” She didn’t even look up. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.” By the time I finished cutting the fruit, the bell peppers were done. They were neatly lined up on a platter, looking charred and appetizing. I set down the fruit platter and grabbed a skewer of bell peppers. The moment I opened my mouth, a strong, sour waft of vinegar hit my nose. 1 Refusing to give up, I swapped it for another skewer, and then another. Without exception, every single one was drenched in vinegar. Staring at Maya’s back as she tended the grill, I asked with my last shred of hope. “Are all the bell peppers done?” She didn’t turn around. “Yeah, you love bell peppers the most, so of course I grilled them first for you.” Hearing that, it sounded like I was really important to her. If I didn’t know that every single pepper was soaked in vinegar. I might have actually felt lucky. But right now, I had completely lost my appetite. I didn’t even want her as a girlfriend anymore. Julian looked at me, confused. “Arthur, why aren’t you eating?” He picked up a skewer, took a bite, closed his eyes, and let out a dramatic sigh of satisfaction. “Mmm~ so good. This is exactly it. You have to use vinegar on grilled peppers.” Seeing that I still wasn’t eating, a thought seemed to cross his mind. “Maya, Arthur didn’t want vinegar. Did you save any for him?” Maya flipped a steak on the grill and glanced back at him. “Didn’t you all say they taste better with vinegar?” Julian jogged over and playfully nudged her shoulder. “Arthur specifically asked you to leave two without it!” Maya let out a squeak. “Ah! Be careful! I’m brushing the hot sauce right now. If I put too much, you’re going to complain it’s spicy again!” Julian smirked triumphantly. “If it’s spicy, I’ll just make you eat it all.” As they giggled and flirted, my bell peppers were completely forgotten. Maya was my girlfriend. My fiancée, actually, since we were already engaged. I had brought her home to meet my family a grand total of three times. I didn’t realize she and my cousin Julian were already this close. I put the skewer back on the platter. I deliberately made the clatter a little louder than necessary. Maya finally turned to me with an apologetic smile. “Arthur, they were all grilled together. I wasn’t paying attention, and I just brushed them all out of habit.” Seeing that I didn’t immediately let her off the hook, she frowned. “Besides, your mom said to use vinegar too. Stop trying to be so difficult.” I genuinely couldn’t understand. Is asking to leave two skewers without vinegar considered being “difficult”? I asked her. “Taking two skewers out before you brushed them, or just leaving two for me to grill myself—was that really so hard?” Maya didn’t know how to answer. My mom let out a dramatic sigh. “Arthur, Maya is already exhausted from grilling. Stop nitpicking.” “It’s just a little vinegar. You’re just being dramatic.” As if to prove a point, she immediately picked up a skewer and took a bite. “See? This is perfectly delicious.” After finishing her sentence, she handed a skewer to my dad. My dad didn’t say a word. He took a bite, nodded vigorously in agreement, finished it in three bites, and reached for another. Encouraged, Julian beamed at them. “See, Auntie? Uncle? I told you they’re better with vinegar.” Just then, my younger sister, Chloe, walked out onto the patio, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What smells so good?” Julian immediately picked up a skewer of peppers and held it out to her. “Chloe! You’re finally awake. We’re eating grilled peppers, try one and tell me if it’s good.” “Thanks, Julian.” My sister took it, casually thanking him. She devoured it in seconds, and before she even finished swallowing, asked if there were more. Her reaction made everyone laugh. Everyone except me. It was obvious that everyone loved that plate of vinegar-soaked peppers. Except me. It was always like this. Nobody ever liked the things I liked. Whatever Julian said was good, everyone agreed was good. In this family, I was always the odd one out. 2 Julian is two years older than me. When he was twelve, my uncle and aunt got divorced. My mom went back to her hometown and brought him to live with us. From then on, whenever my mom visited her side of the family, she was treated like royalty. Plus, Julian was incredibly good at sweet-talking. So it was a mutually beneficial arrangement. When Julian first moved in, I actually liked him. I thought I was getting an older brother, a built-in playmate. My mom always used to say: “Julian is so pitiful. He doesn’t have his parents anymore. Arthur, you need to be understanding and let him have his way.” I thought that meant sharing my snacks or toys. I didn’t realize it meant surrendering my place in the family. Whether it was intentional or not, later that evening during the barbecue, they insisted on putting vinegar on everything. Aside from the fruit I cut myself, I didn’t eat a single thing. But I didn’t throw a fit or flip the table. Because I knew. Even if I did, it wouldn’t earn me their understanding or guilt. I would just end up looking like the bad guy. I still remember my tenth birthday. It was my birthday, but the cake was strawberry—Julian’s favorite flavor. That time, I knocked the cake onto the floor. My mom called me an ungrateful brat. My dad said I was being immature. My sister complained that I ruined a perfectly good cake. Julian cried and said it was all his fault. The entire family scolded me while simultaneously comforting him, telling him not to cry. I was so blinded by rage that day. I cried and screamed, demanding they send Julian away. In response, they all went out to dinner, locking me—the birthday boy—in the house to “reflect on my actions.” That was my first birthday after Julian moved in. From then on, my birthday cake was always his favorite strawberry flavor. When I was a kid, I didn’t understand. I threw tantrums when I was wronged, which only resulted in more punishments. Eventually, I stopped throwing tantrums. I started studying relentlessly. I wanted to prove to them that I was the smartest, the best. Finally, I ranked first in my entire grade, earning a rare smile from my dad. But before I could even enjoy it for two seconds, my mom ripped my report card to shreds. Because Julian and Chloe hadn’t done well. Julian cried, saying he was stupid and not as smart as me. Chloe said I was just showing off and it made her too angry to eat. So my dad’s intended praise turned into a solemn lecture. “Arthur, whatever you do, you can’t just think about yourself. You have to consider other people’s feelings.” I finally understood. No matter how excellent I was, they simply didn’t care. This indifference got so bad that at one point, I legitimately suspected Julian was their biological son, not me. Because of this, the very first thing I did when I turned eighteen… Was to secretly get a DNA paternity test. The results confirmed, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was their biological son. The night I got those results, I hid in my room and cried until dawn. I would have rather been adopted. If I wasn’t their real son, at least there would be a logical explanation for their blatant favoritism. But the truth was just cruel. I was their biological son. They just liked Julian better. Once I accepted that conclusion, I awkwardly began to untangle my emotional dependency on them. I stopped expecting them to see me. After graduating high school, I purposely chose a college far away from home. I thought I had given them enough space. But apparently, it wasn’t enough. During the summer after my freshman year, I got a call from my mom. She said Julian was studying for grad school and the house needed to be quiet. She suggested I find a part-time job and stay out of the house for the summer. I understood what she meant. So I surrendered the very last inch of space I had in that house. I quietly moved out. Until I met Maya. I thought she was different. Because she once promised me that no matter what happened, she would always stand by my side. So what was happening now? Had she been assimilated by them? 3 They were all having a great time at the barbecue. But their lively atmosphere formed an invisible barrier around them. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t cross it. I desperately wanted to pull Maya aside and ask her why. But I saw her flanked by Julian on one side and Chloe on the other. There was no space for me next to her. A wave of panic washed over me. I just wanted to take her and leave. I grabbed my bag and stood up, but my mom’s voice rang out behind me. “Arthur, are you leaving?” I froze in my tracks as she continued. “At least clean up before you go.” I stood rooted to the spot. I didn’t even know how to react. Maya finally looked over at me. “Arthur, are you leaving already?” I turned around, ignoring my mom, and stared straight at Maya. “I want to go home. What about you?” Maya immediately stood up. “Of course I’m going with you.” Hearing that, the cold, damp feeling in my chest finally began to thaw. But her next sentence plunged me right back into the ice water. She said, “Wait for you to finish cleaning up, then we’ll go.” But… why? I didn’t even want to come to this barbecue in the first place. My mom had called Maya directly, saying Chloe had gotten into college and wanted Maya to bring me home to celebrate. Since I started college, I had only been back to this house three times. Once to introduce Maya to my parents. Once when we got engaged. And today. I hadn’t eaten a single bite of the barbecue. I only ate the fruit I brought myself. And I had already thrown away the peels. So what she wanted me to clean up… was the mess left behind by my family’s feast. Seeing that I hadn’t moved, my mom muttered a passive-aggressive comment under her breath. “Eating and running. Since when is that acceptable?” Chloe looked up from her phone and let out a mocking scoff. My dad remained silent. Julian quickly stood up. “Auntie, it’s fine, I’ll clean it up. Arthur works hard, it’s good for him to get home and rest early.” My mom grabbed his arm. “He’s tired, but you aren’t?! You planned this whole thing today, shouldn’t he at least help clean up?!” Her voice grew louder, dripping with disappointment. “I don’t know who he takes after. Since he was a kid, he only ever thinks about himself. Never once considering others.” “I don’t know how Maya puts up with him.” Hearing her name, Maya awkwardly rubbed her nose. “Arthur, just clean it up. It won’t take long.” I stared at her in disbelief. I had told her everything. She knew exactly how much I suffered in this house. Yet she cruelly chose to rub salt directly into the wound my mom had just reopened. A sharp, needle-like pain pierced my chest, fine and prolonged, making it hard to breathe. Sensing my resistance and pain, she walked over, took my arm, and softened her voice to coax me. “Come on, it’s just cleaning up a bit. I’ll help you, okay?” I yanked my arm away violently. I forced back the tears that were threatening to spill over. My lips trembled slightly, but my tone was resolute. “Choose. We either break up, or we leave right now.” She looked at me, confusion clouding her eyes, as if she didn’t understand what I had just said. “Arthur, what are you talking about?” I looked at her, then swept my gaze across the family in the living room. I took a deep breath and repeated it, very seriously. “I said, if you stay to clean up, we break up.” “If you leave with me right now, we pretend this never happened.” As soon as the words left my mouth, everyone stared at me, their eyes wide with shock. In stark contrast to their disbelief, a sudden wave of calm washed over me. I had already written off this family. If Maya was going to side with them, then I would have to write her off too. Once I accepted that, a massive weight lifted off my chest.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574786”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel