For eight long years, I loved Wyatt Hayes. Yet, we never wed. Our Western Frontier has a sacred tradition: a couple wishing to marry must climb the snowy peaks to seek a blessing from the Mountain Oracle. Usually, it takes a couple only a try or two before the Oracle grants them a Winter Rose, a rare bloom symbolizing divine favor. But for eight years straight, Wyatt came back empty-handed. I became the laughingstock of the Frontier’s ruling family, but Wyatt never left my side, treating me with doubled devotion. This time, I secretly followed him up the mountain. I decided that if the Oracle refused to bless us again, I would give up my title as the Governor’s daughter and elope with him. When I saw a Winter Rose finally placed into his hands, I was so ecstatic I nearly fainted. But Wyatt’s expression was agonizingly cold and indifferent. “It is you I love,” he whispered, “but I cannot betray Hazel after her eight years of companionship.” Then, the man who had looked at me with tender devotion only this morning took the sacred flower and forced himself upon the Oracle! The petals were crushed under his rough movements, the crimson juice of the rose staining the Oracle’s snow-white skin. “This is our last time…” he groaned. “Once you are sent to the Eastern Coalition as a treaty bride, I will cut my ties and marry her.” It turned out, he hadn’t delayed marrying me for eight years because of a curse. He was simply addicted to his once-a-year tryst with the Oracle. Numb and hollow, I stumbled back to the grand estate and knelt before my father. “The Frontier cannot survive a day without its Oracle. I will take her place as the treaty bride. Let me marry the Eastern Heir.” 1. Beatrice, the sister who always hated me, was the first to laugh out loud. “Have you lost your mind, sister? Your engagement to General Hayes is already the biggest joke in the family!” “If we send an unwanted old maid to the East, aren’t you afraid they’ll see it as an insult?” A bitter, humiliating emotion rushed up my chest, suffocating me so much I couldn’t speak. Once, I was hailed as the brightest pearl of the Western Frontier. But after Wyatt failed to get the Oracle’s blessing for eight consecutive years, I became the embodiment of bad luck and disaster. Thinking of how Wyatt had unhesitatingly crushed that Winter Rose—the flower I had dreamed of—against the Oracle’s skin, I bowed my head deeply to my father again. “I am not destined for General Hayes. Let me serve our land through this marriage and secure peace for the Frontier.” My aging father looked toward my older brother, Arthur, the man slated to be the next Governor. “Arthur, what do you think?” My heart clenched tightly. Arthur had always doted on me. If he refused to let me go… “I think this is an excellent idea, Father.” The moment my brother spoke, the blood in my veins froze. Before I could recover from the massive wave of shock, my brother continued, his voice ringing with absolute certainty. “The Oracle is the guiding star of our Frontier. How could my sister ever compare to her?” “Besides, she is a jinx who couldn’t secure a marriage for eight years. Sending her to the Easterners might just bring a curse upon them!” Large tears rolled from my eyes. I trembled so violently I could barely sit up straight. Was this still the brother who protected me at every turn, who never allowed anyone to mock me? First Wyatt, then Arthur. Why was all this happening? My father’s eyes grew dark. He dismissed everyone else, leaving only me in the room. “Although you are a more suitable bride for the East than the Oracle, I do not feel safe leaving her here in the West.” I looked up, stunned, as my father brought up a chilly early spring from eight years ago. Wyatt and I had privately pledged ourselves to each other. Arthur, who had always been close friends with him, was furious and attacked him. In Arthur’s eyes, the best man in the world wasn’t good enough for me. The two men brawled on the plains, fists striking flesh. Just then, the Oracle came down from the mountain. Dressed in her pure white ceremonial robes, she used her fragile body to stand between them. Without saying a word, her expression calm and merciful, she bandaged their wounds. Then she drifted away, returning to the untouched snows to be the immaculate Oracle. But that beautiful silhouette had permanently rooted itself in the hearts of both my brother and Wyatt. It turned out, the signs were always there. Since that was the case, I would ride alone to the East and let them have exactly what they wanted. 2. Seeing me emerge from my father’s study, Arthur quickly came to meet me. “Did Father agree to let you go…” I interrupted him coldly, “Arthur, did you really want me to leave that badly?” Or was it just that he couldn’t bear to part with the snow lily in his heart? A flash of panic crossed Arthur’s eyes before he regained his composure. “Didn’t you want to go? I only said those things to Father to help you get your wish.” Ridiculous. He threw me to the wolves to shield his sweetheart, and he had the nerve to say he was helping me. If that was how he wanted to play it, I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. I shook my head. “Father said no.” Right then, Wyatt came galloping toward us from a distance, unconcealable guilt plastered across his face. “I’m sorry… I still couldn’t get the Winter Rose.” “Next year…” I stared blankly at the blue sky and the circling falcons. “There’s no need.” By this time next year, I would probably already be living in the Eastern Capital. Wyatt let his hand drop in a daze, a fleeting look of deep regret in his eyes. “Don’t say such foolish things. Next year… I will definitely get it.” The Winter Rose was granted every single year. It was just my weight in his heart that grew lighter with each passing season. This double betrayal was like a raging fire, burning all the hope and expectation in my heart to ashes. That night, I was helping Arthur prepare the ceremonial items for the annual Harvest Moon Festival. I watched him stare vacantly at the Oracle’s ceremonial robes. I finally couldn’t hold back my mockery. “Arthur, the Oracle you’re so obsessed with has already been claimed by Wyatt.” “I saw it with my own eyes today. He crushed the Winter Rose against her thigh…” Before I could finish, a powerful arrow whistled past my cheek. After a sharp pain, bright red blood flowed down my neck and into my collar. “You can’t get the blessing because of your own lacking morals, and yet you dare invent such filthy lies to defile the Oracle!” “If there is a next time, I will shoot your head clean off.” Arthur’s eyes held a furious, boiling hatred I had never seen before. He slung his bow over his shoulder and left, dropping one final sentence. “Why couldn’t the one being sent to the East be a useless waste like you!” I covered my bleeding face and laughed at myself, laughing until the tears streamed down. I finally understood completely. In the hearts of Wyatt and Arthur, the Oracle would always be holy and beautiful. She was their faith, and their deepest, darkest desire. And compared to her, I was just the most insignificant grain of sand. Wyatt found me and brought me back to my tent. He touched my arrow-grazed cheek, looking utterly heartbroken. “Who did this!?” Looking at his seemingly genuine distress and deep affection, my heart felt like it was being pierced by thousands of needles. Everything today was his fault. What was he pretending to be so deeply in love for now? Years ago, he saved me from the jaws of a wild wolf, and I fell in love with him at first sight. From then on, the proud daughter who never bowed to anyone began to chase him relentlessly. He was the bravest general on the Frontier, so I learned martial arts from scratch. My palms bled, my skin tore from falling, but I never backed down. But now, looking at his hypocritical face, I suddenly realized I couldn’t love him anymore. I looked quietly into his eyes. “Wyatt, let’s call off the engagement.” 3. Wyatt’s face instantly froze. He stared intensely into my eyes, as if trying to find a shred of reluctance on my face. I looked back at him calmly. “The Oracle hasn’t granted us a flower in eight years. I suppose we truly aren’t meant to be.” Since that was the case, it was better to part ways and find our own happiness. Wyatt grabbed my hand, his tone tinged with guilt. “Hazel, don’t worry. Next year, I promise I’ll get the Oracle’s blessing.” I closed my eyes wearily. Marrying him had once been my biggest dream. And now, if I just pretended nothing had happened, he could smoothly marry me once the Oracle was sent away to the East. I opened my mouth. “I…” From outside the tent came the shout of Wyatt’s lieutenant. “General, the sacred artifacts for the Harvest Moon Festival have arrived!” Wyatt’s expression hardened. Without sparing me another glance, he ran out. I gave a self-deprecating smile, which instantly turned into tears. He was willing to ruin my reputation just to indulge in his taboo, once-a-year affair. How could he ever truly settle down and spend the rest of his life peacefully with me? It wasn’t that we didn’t get the Oracle’s blessing; it was just that I had bet on the wrong man’s heart. That was all. Wyatt returned quickly, gripping my hand tightly. “Hazel, the Harvest Moon is almost here. Let’s do the bloodletting quickly this year.” “The heavens will be moved by our sincerity, and next year we can marry!” To pray for good fortune, I would donate my blood every time he failed to get the flower. But now that the truth was out, doubts sprouted wildly in my mind. If seeking the blessing was a lie, why was he in such a rush to get my blood? I drew my dagger and unhesitatingly slashed my left wrist. Bright red blood dripped steadily into a white porcelain bowl. The guilt on Wyatt’s face deepened. “Thank you for this… Just wait one more year, and we can be together forever.” The very last ounce of affection I had for him drained away with that blood. I desperately wanted to tell him that there would be no ‘forever’ for us. After Wyatt left, I quietly followed him. And then I watched helplessly as he submerged the sacred artifacts into my blood! I remembered the legend: only the blood of a virgin could nourish the holy relics. The Oracle had lost her purity to him long ago. So, his refusal to touch me all these years wasn’t out of chivalry—he just needed me as a blood bank for the Oracle! The world spun around me. My riddled heart was pierced by a sharp blade once again. The night wind of the plains chilled me to the bone, much like these past eight years that had turned me from a vibrant girl into a lifeless shadow. I returned to my quarters like a wandering ghost and packed my bags for the East. Aside from my clothes, I only took the silver locket my mother left me. Then, I gathered everything related to Wyatt from all these years and threw it into the fire. The flames illuminated my tear-streaked face, burning away the absolute last trace of hesitation in my heart. I turned and walked out toward the plains. The old woman who helped raise my hunting falcon ran toward me. “Miss Hazel… Young Master Arthur is trying to take your falcon!” I frowned and rushed to the mews, arriving just in time to see the Oracle, dressed in her pure white robes, bowing gracefully to my brother. “I have nothing left tying me here as I leave for the East. I simply cannot bear to see my own falcon sacrificed tomorrow.” “Thank you, Young Master, for swapping the birds… I will remember this kindness.” My falcon had been hunting and riding with me since I was eight. I absolutely refused to lose it. Storming into the mews, ignoring the shocked looks of everyone around, I drew my bow and shot an arrow right through the chains holding my falcon! The bird circled me reluctantly, then let out a piercing cry and bolted into the dark night sky. As Arthur pinned me to the ground in a rage, I looked up at the sky and laughed until I cried. “Every single one of you hurts me just for the Oracle. But why can’t you win a single war?” “If you hadn’t been beaten back by the Easterners time and time again, you wouldn’t need to send the Oracle away as a bride!” This decaying, absurdly rotten Frontier was no longer my beautiful homeland. Then I would go over the mountains and find a way to save this country myself! 4. Arthur locked me in an empty barn. In the distance, the sound of war drums echoed. The current Oracle was completing her final sacrifice. Servants walked past me in twos and threes, making no effort to hide their contempt and hatred. “Why wasn’t this useless girl the one sent to the East? The heavens are blind!” “The Oracle ruined her health praying for the Frontier. What if she dies on the journey…” I closed my eyes, blocking out the tidal wave of malice. After a shrill, agonizing scream, the Oracle’s falcon was sacrificed. Wyatt rushed to the front of the barn, his eyes full of disappointment and fury. “Why did you purposely release your falcon last night!? The Oracle is about to leave, she just wanted to preserve a memory, and you couldn’t even grant her that?” Looking at his face, twisted with anger, I suddenly looked forward to seeing his expression when he realized I was the one going to the East. “What about me? She wanted to keep a memory, but do my feelings not matter?” His beloved was about to leave, and he couldn’t even bother pretending anymore. Wyatt’s chest heaved violently. “You haven’t hunted in years. What use do you have for a falcon?” He must have forgotten that I used to be the greatest huntress on the Frontier. I only stopped killing because our marriage was never blessed, and I thought sparing lives would earn us favor. I looked at the complete stranger standing before me and suddenly smiled softly. “Wyatt, you all will get your wish very soon.” Wyatt looked confused, but was suddenly pulled away by one of Arthur’s men. “The ritual failed! Something happened to the Oracle!” The Oracle had to be a pure virgin. Since she had slept with Wyatt just that morning, how could the heavens not punish them? It was getting late, and the guards were distracted. It was time to leave. After Wyatt left, I easily climbed out of the barn and snuck back to my tent to grab my luggage. But my most important possession, the silver locket, was gone! That was my mother’s heirloom, meant to keep me safe! My hands shook with panic, until I overheard the servants whispering. “The Young Master really cares for the Oracle. For this trip, he prepared seven or eight protective amulets for her.” By the time I snapped out of it, my face was covered in tears. I knew the Oracle was precious to him, but I never imagined he would strip me of my mother’s only heirloom! He felt my selfishness had killed the Oracle’s falcon, so he took half my life to compensate her. But from start to finish, I was the only one losing everything! The guards had discovered my escape. I had no time left. I threw on a red riding cloak and let out a sharp whistle. My falcon dove down from the sky and landed on my shoulder. My warhorse broke its tether, jumped the fence, and lowered its head to me. Dressed in crimson, a falcon on my left shoulder, I grabbed the reins with my right hand and galloped furiously toward the Capital! If there was no road left for me here, I would forge my own path in the wider world! This time, I didn’t look back. Meanwhile, on the Frontier, crowds fell to their knees around the altar, surrounding the Oracle, who was spitting blood with an agonized expression. “The heavens are furious! This is a disaster!” “Tens of thousands of cattle froze last winter, we are losing the war with the East…” “The Oracle represents the Frontier… Could it be the Oracle… Ah!” Arthur shot an arrow straight through the throat of the man who spoke. For a moment, everyone was dead silent. Wyatt’s face was so dark it looked like it could drip ink. “For centuries, the West has been protected by generations of Oracles.” “Anyone who dares slander her purity will be killed on the spot!” But the crowd wasn’t suppressed; they boiled over even more violently. “Then who angered the gods? We must cut them to pieces and burn them alive to calm the spirits’ wrath!” “Exactly! Give us peace!” Arthur and Wyatt knew better than anyone that they needed a scapegoat to bear the people’s fury. They looked at each other simultaneously and closed their eyes in pain. “Go bring Hazel.” Less than fifteen minutes later, my aging father, draped in a heavy coat, stood in the center of the crowd. “Hazel volunteered to go to the East as the treaty bride. She left the Frontier thirty miles ago.” 5. As soon as my father’s words fell, Wyatt lunged forward, his handsome face twisted in pure disbelief. “Impossible! Why would Hazel actually go? She explicitly promised she would only ever marry me.” Arthur’s fists clenched tightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His voice was frantic yet insistent. “Father must be lying to us. No matter how angry she is, she wouldn’t joke about the rest of her life.” They exchanged a look, both finding the same stubborn denial in each other’s eyes. They practically ran off the altar, Wyatt still muttering to himself. “She’s just punishing me. She’s saying this to scare us.” Arthur nodded in agreement, though his feet moved faster and faster. “Let’s check her room. She’s probably hiding inside, crying.” But when they burst into my quarters, they found only an empty bed and cold ashes in the hearth. Everything related to Wyatt had been burned to dust, scattered across the floor. Arthur’s heart plummeted. He turned and sprinted toward the grassy ridge I loved. “She loves watching the falcons from there. She has to be there!” Wyatt followed closely, clinging to a thread of hope. He remembered how I used to rest on his shoulder, my eyes shining as I said: “Wyatt, when we get the Winter Rose next year, we’ll have the grandest wedding.” Those words were still echoing in his ears. How could I just leave? They ran to every place I frequented. The valley of bluebells where I taught him to weave crowns; the clear stream where we sailed paper boats; the old oak tree where I hid my love letters to him. But at every spot, there was only the wind. No sign of me. “Where is she? Where did she go!?” Arthur’s voice started to shake, his composed facade entirely shattered. Wyatt’s face grew paler and paler. His fists were clenched so tight his fingertips were freezing. “Impossible. She couldn’t have left. We’re getting married next year.” This was his obsession, his unwavering certainty. Why would I suddenly give up? Just then, my father’s personal guard hurried over, carrying a wooden lockbox. “General, Young Master. This is the letter breaking the engagement that Hazel left behind, along with the silver ring the General gave her years ago.” The box was opened. The handwriting on the letter was neat but absolute. The ring still gleamed, carrying the faint warmth of having been worn by me for years. Wyatt shuddered violently, as if struck by lightning, and stumbled backward. “Breaking the engagement? She really wants to break it off?” He muttered to himself, his heart feeling as though it was being crushed by an invisible hand, hurting so much he couldn’t breathe. Arthur snatched the letter. After one glance, his eyes went entirely red: “She really left… She really went to the East…” Father stood behind them without them noticing, his eyes deep and unreadable. “The bridal escort left early. They will meet up with her tomorrow and head straight for the Capital.” “She prepared for this long ago. You two… simply hurt her too deeply.” Arthur suddenly spun around, staring at Wyatt with bloodshot eyes, his suppressed emotions exploding. “This is your fault! If you hadn’t failed to get that flower for eight years, she wouldn’t have been mocked! If you hadn’t treated her terribly, she wouldn’t have been so determined to leave!” 6. He grabbed Wyatt by the collar, pulling his fist back to strike. “We depended on each other since we were kids. How could she leave on such a massive journey without telling me? She must hate you!” Wyatt was stunned by the yelling, a flash of panic crossing his face before he, too, grew furious. “Blame me? How are you any better? For the Oracle, you said those vicious things to her, and you shot an arrow at her face!” He shoved Arthur away, his voice dripping with accusation. “You’re her actual brother, yet you were crueler than a stranger!” With weapons almost drawn, right as they were about to tear into each other, a figure in pure white quietly appeared. The Oracle stood between them, maintaining her sorrowful, merciful expression, and gently pulled at their sleeves. “Please, do not fight because of me. I bandaged your wounds years ago, and I don’t want to see you turn on each other today.” Her voice was soft, as if their fierce argument was entirely about her. Arthur and Wyatt both froze. Looking at the Oracle’s holy face, their expressions grew incredibly complicated. Wyatt took a deep breath, his tone freezing over: “Our fight has nothing to do with you.” Arthur shook off the Oracle’s hand, his eyes filled with exhaustion and deep regret. “We are talking about Hazel. We are talking about my sister.” The Oracle’s face stiffened. She clearly hadn’t expected this response. She stood frozen, looking at the suffocating anxiety and remorse rolling between the two men, suddenly at a loss for words. Arthur turned back to Wyatt, his gaze sharp as a knife. “Hazel loved you since she was a girl. For you, she learned to fight, and never complained no matter how much she suffered.” “She wouldn’t inexplicably abandon you and go to the East.” He stared intensely into Wyatt’s eyes. “Did you do something unforgivable to her?” All the color drained from Wyatt’s face. His eyes darted away, afraid to meet Arthur’s gaze. On the snowy mountain that morning, he had crushed the flower and told the Oracle that I was just a temporary companion. He used my virgin blood to nourish the artifacts. When I asked to cancel the engagement, he had just brushed me off. All these memories collided, leaving him entirely unable to defend himself. Seeing him like this, Arthur knew the answer, and his rage ignited once more. “I knew it! You bastard! What exactly did you do to her?” He drove his fist into Wyatt’s face, knocking him into the dirt. “She loved you so much, how could you bear to hurt her?” Wyatt didn’t fight back. He let Arthur’s fists rain down on his body. The physical pain was a fraction of the agony tearing apart his chest. He covered his face, letting out a stifled sob from his throat as the tears finally broke free. “I was wrong… I shouldn’t have lied to her… I shouldn’t have used her…” He regretted it. He truly, deeply regretted it. The two men brawled in the dirt, kicking up dust, until all their energy was spent and they collapsed on the ground. Arthur gasped for air, looking into the distance, his voice hoarse: “We can’t let her go to the East. Absolutely not!” Wyatt pushed himself up, his eyes hardening with resolve: “We’ll ride after her. We’ll bring her back.” The Oracle walked over and spoke softly. “This was originally my duty. Since this happened because of me, I am willing to go with you to take her place and bring Hazel back.” Her tone was incredibly righteous, as if she were saving the world. Arthur and Wyatt exchanged a look and didn’t refuse. Right now, as long as they could bring me back, they would do anything. The three immediately mounted their horses, took a squad of elite cavalry, and galloped frantically toward the Capital.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “396450”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I watched my husband’s award ceremony on a tablet propped up in the kitchen, chopping pork ribs with a heavy cleaver. The host asked him who he wanted to thank the most at this pinnacle of his career. He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, his voice smooth and gentle: “I want to thank my late wife, Evelyn. She was the one who taught me the true soul of literature.” The cleaver slipped in my hand, nearly taking off my finger. A splash of bloody water from the cutting board hit my apron, blooming like a rotting red flower. Eight years. I am his legally wedded wife. I am the 24/7, live-in caregiver for his paralyzed mother. But in his acceptance speech, I am nothing but thin air. Chapter 1 At seven o’clock that evening, Arthur Sterling returned home with his star students and a few colleagues. The heat in the house was turned up high. They took off their heavy winter coats, revealing elegant suits and sleek cocktail dresses. Arthur’s mother was in good spirits today. She sat in her wheelchair in the center of the living room, graciously accepting the students’ greetings. “Your mother looks wonderful, Professor Sterling. You take such meticulous care of her.” “Seriously. Your first wife passed away so young, and you’ve had to balance academia with caring for your elderly mother all by yourself. It’s truly inspiring.” Everyone was marveling at Arthur’s deep devotion and resilience. I walked out of the kitchen carrying a heavy pot of slow-simmered beef bourguignon that had been on the stove for three hours. The steam billowed up, the rich aroma drifting into everyone’s noses. A young female student turned her head and flashed me a sweet smile: “Excuse me, ma’am? Could you grab two more sets of silverware and some extra napkins?” The living room fell dead silent for two seconds. No one corrected her. Arthur was pouring tea for another student and didn’t even lift his eyelids. “Go get them. And be quick about it.” In that exact moment, I felt like an unevolved primate that had accidentally stumbled into a gathering of civilized humans. I looked down at the faded, oversized sweatpants I was wearing, and the cheap plastic slippers stained with cooking grease. I really did look like the hired help. Worse than the hired help, actually. A housekeeper gets paid by the hour. I only got a fixed monthly “allowance” of five hundred dollars to cover groceries. I turned back to the kitchen. The bitterness rising in my throat tasted like sour dishwater. When I came back out with the silverware, Arthur was standing in the doorway of his study, lighting a memorial candle in front of Evelyn’s portrait. In the photograph, Evelyn wore a black evening gown, sitting gracefully at a Steinway piano like a beautiful swan. I walked over to set the plates down on the adjacent table. When Arthur turned around, he bumped right into me. Crash. A bowl of scalding hot stew tipped over, spilling perfectly onto the edge of the memorial table. I knew how fiercely he guarded this space, so my first instinct was to block the spill with my bare hands. The hot liquid splattered everywhere, but a few drops still managed to hit the bottom edge of Evelyn’s picture frame. “What the hell are you doing?!” Arthur reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He violently shoved me back. I stumbled, my shoulder slamming hard into the doorframe. The back of my hand was searing red, blistered from the boiling stew. But Arthur didn’t spare me a single glance. Looking panicked, he pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and began carefully wiping the picture frame, his movements as tender as if he were caressing a lover’s face. “You’re so incredibly clumsy. Can you do anything right?” He shot me a vicious glare over his shoulder, his eyes looking like they wanted to swallow me alive. “Today is a huge milestone for me. Did you purposely decide to ruin it?” My scalded hand was burning in agony, but my heart turned entirely to ice. The students exchanged awkward glances. The girl who had called me ‘ma’am’ whispered, “The Professor loved his first wife so much. He can’t even bear to see her photograph get dirty.” “Yeah. It’s true, undying love.” The room once again erupted into quiet murmurs praising his earth-shattering romance. I stood in the shadows of the corner, clutching my red, swollen hand. I looked at the man I had served hand and foot for eight years, pouring all his devotion into a photograph of a dead woman. I looked at the highly educated elites who treated a living, breathing human being like an invisible piece of furniture. Suddenly, I realized that my life for the past eight years had been nothing but a pathetic joke. I was the Sterling family’s live-in maid. I was his mother’s personal nurse. I was everything except Arthur Sterling’s wife. The string that I had kept pulled taut for eight years finally snapped. I’m done serving them. Chapter 2 I didn’t eat dinner. I went straight to my bedroom. I call it a bedroom, but it was actually a storage closet that had been converted into a guest room. Arthur slept in the master bedroom alone—or rather, he slept there with his “memories” of Evelyn. He only came to my room when he had physical needs. When he required me to fulfill my obligations as a wife. I looked at myself in the mirror. My complexion was sallow, the corners of my eyes were lined with wrinkles, and my hair was as dry and brittle as straw. I didn’t look thirty-five. If someone said I was fifty, they’d believe it. The girl who used to be the prettiest in her small hometown had withered into a dying weed. I remembered the first time I came to the Sterling house. It was messy, smelled awful, and Arthur was standing there, handsome but utterly helpless. After his mother had a stroke and became paralyzed, her temper turned vicious. She verbally and physically abused the nurses; no one lasted more than three days. Then I arrived. I became the exception. Because I felt sorry for him. Because when I tried to quit, his face was full of desperate pleading. And because, when I finally agreed to stay, the unmistakable joy in his eyes hooked me. Later, my family called, demanding I come back to my hometown to settle down and marry a local guy. I handed in my resignation again. Arthur said, “Marrying a stranger off some app is a gamble with your life. You know this house, and you know me. I’ll marry you.” Thinking of the deep, devoted way he looked at his late wife, something possessed me to say yes. Because I wanted him to look at me that way, too. I thought if I waited long enough, I would get it. The noise outside slowly died down. The guests had left. Arthur pushed my door open, holding a plastic package in his hand. “Here.” He casually tossed the item onto my bed. It was a pair of compression knee sleeves. Thick, wool-lined ones. My heart did a sudden leap. Was it because he saw me scald my hand and felt guilty? Or was it because today was our wedding anniversary? He had never remembered it before, but maybe, subconsciously, he wanted to do something nice for me? For a split second, that pathetic, desperate, feminine delusion bubbled up again. I reached out to touch the knee sleeves, opening my mouth to say something soft. Arthur loosened his tie, his tone deadpan: “Mom’s arthritis flares up whenever the weather gets like this. These sleeves are good quality. Put them on her before she goes to sleep.” “Also, get up more often during the night. Don’t let her wet the bedsheets again, the house is starting to smell.” My outstretched hand froze in mid-air. I felt like a clown who had just been publicly slapped across the face. It wasn’t for me. It was a tool for his mother. And I was just the tool responsible for applying it. “One more thing,” Arthur said, turning toward the door without even looking at me. “That stew spilled earlier. Make sure you mop the hardwood floors again first thing tomorrow morning. Don’t leave a lingering smell. And from now on, you are strictly forbidden from touching Evelyn’s memorial table.” I wanted to laugh, but all I could manage was an expression far uglier than crying. “Arthur.” I called out to him. He stopped, looking back with a frown. “What now?” “I want a divorce.” Four words. I said them quietly, but with absolute clarity. Arthur paused for a second, then let out a cynical scoff. Looking at me like I was a child throwing an unreasonable tantrum, he pulled a stack of cash from his wallet. It was about two or three hundred dollars. Smack. He slapped it onto the nightstand. “Are you throwing a fit because the students embarrassed you earlier? Fine. Take this, go buy yourself a couple of new dresses. I’m exhausted. Don’t start drama over nothing.” With that, he walked out without looking back. I followed him out into the hall. He didn’t go to the master bedroom. He went to his study. The study door was left slightly ajar. I never went in there alone. Even when I cleaned it, I had to watch his mood carefully. Through the crack in the door, I saw Arthur sitting at that Steinway piano. It was Evelyn’s favorite instrument when she was alive. His long, elegant fingers gently traced the keys. His eyes were so tender they looked like they were melting, as if he were caressing the skin of the woman he loved. In eight years, I had never received a look like that. Not even for a single second. He spoke to the empty air, murmuring softly: “Evelyn… I won the award today. If you were here, it would be perfect…” I pushed the door open and walked in. Arthur snapped his head around. The tenderness instantly shattered into jagged ice. “Who told you you could come in here? Get out!” I looked at the gleaming black piano, and then at the man who was supposed to be my husband. “I’m serious. I want a divorce.” This time, Arthur couldn’t even be bothered to turn his head. He pressed down on a single piano key. A crisp ding echoed through the room. “Clara, I transferred your monthly allowance to you yesterday. If you need a raise, just say so. Don’t use these cheap manipulation tactics. It’s beneath you.” In his eyes, every emotion I ever felt could ultimately be converted into a dollar amount. I looked at his handsome, refined face. A wave of intense nausea rolled over me. It was more repulsive than looking at his mother’s soiled bedsheets. “I’m deadly serious. The divorce is happening tomorrow.” I turned, walked out, and closed the door, locking the man drowning in the memories of his dead wife inside his own personal graveyard. Chapter 3 At 2:00 AM. A dull thud echoed from his mother’s bedroom. I shot out of bed purely on muscle memory and sprinted into the room next door. I yelled for Arthur. His bedroom was completely empty. He had probably driven out to the cemetery in the middle of the night to visit his beloved ex-wife again. His mother was having a seizure. Her entire body convulsed like a fish out of water, white foam bubbling at the corners of her mouth, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Turn her on her side. Clear her airway. Prevent her from biting her tongue. Apply pressure to her philtrum. I had performed this exact routine for eight years. It was carved into my bones. Once she stabilized slightly, I hoisted the 130-pound elderly woman onto my back. I weigh 95 pounds. But I gritted my teeth and carried her down three flights of stairs, even as my calves shook violently with the effort. I hailed a cab and rushed straight to the ER. I tried calling Arthur from the backseat. No answer. I had to settle for sending him a text. At the ER, I handled the registration, tracked down the attending doctor, and wheeled her in for a CT scan. I was still in my pajamas. My feet were crammed into my plastic slippers. My hair was a tangled mess, and my shirt was stained with the vomit his mother had coughed up earlier. This was my everyday reality. “Where is the family? Someone needs to pay the cashier,” the doctor said, eyeing my disheveled appearance with hesitation. “Are you… the hired nurse? Can you contact her immediate family?” “I am…” “I’m her son!” Rushed footsteps echoed behind me. Arthur had finally arrived. He was wearing a perfectly tailored wool overcoat, his hair styled immaculately. I could even smell his cologne. It was a scent called “Chance.” Reportedly, it was Evelyn’s absolute favorite. Noble, elegant Arthur, and pathetic, filthy me. We looked like two entirely different species. The doctor immediately switched to a bright, respectful smile: “Ah, Professor Sterling! You’re such a devoted son, rushing over in the middle of the night.” Arthur offered a humble, modest smile. He played the part of the refined intellectual flawlessly. As soon as the doctor walked away, Arthur turned his head and finally noticed me. His smile vanished instantly, replaced by his habitual look of reprimand. “What happened? Why did she have a seizure? Did you feed her something wrong at dinner? How are you watching her?!” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried perfectly through the quiet ER hallway. This was his logic. If she got sick, it was my fault. If she got better, it was because of his filial devotion. I didn’t say a word. I just silently lifted his mother from the gurney onto the hospital bed, adjusted her pillows, and tucked her in. Arthur just stood there, watching. Since the day I moved in, he hadn’t lifted a single finger to do a chore. He had never even poured his own mother a glass of water. Because, as he said, that was my job. A middle-aged woman in the neighboring bed couldn’t help but chime in: “Oh my, this lady is so capable. Her hands are so quick! You must be the family’s hired maid, right? You’re so professional. I wish I could hire someone like you.” My hands, which had been wiping his mother’s mouth, froze. Arthur stiffened slightly. I just looked at him. All he had to do was say, “This is my wife,” or even just mumble a vague agreement to brush it off. But instead, after three seconds of agonizing silence. Arthur nodded and said flatly: “Yes. She is very professional.” Boom. The very last thread of sanity holding my mind together completely snapped. Those three seconds of silence were ten thousand times more venomous than him actively screaming at me. It murdered the absolute last shred of delusional hope I had left for him. It murdered every single sacrifice I had made over the last eight years. I took the wet towel in my hand and threw it directly at his chest. “I officially resign. You can serve her yourself!” I turned around and walked out. Arthur hissed furiously behind me: “Clara! Are you insane?! We are in a hospital!” I didn’t look back. My pace only got faster. When I walked out the hospital doors, the freezing night wind hit my face, and I realized my cheeks were soaked with tears. But inside, my heart felt an unprecedented, absolute thrill of liberation. Chapter 4 I went back to that so-called “home” and started packing my things. There wasn’t much to pack. Aside from a few changes of cheap clothes, there was almost nothing in this house that truly belonged to me. In his study, hidden at the very bottom of a locked drawer, I found our original “marriage agreement.” It wasn’t a prenuptial agreement; it was a literal employment contract. It was written in black and white: Party B (me) is responsible for all daily care and living requirements of Party A (Arthur’s mother). Party A (Arthur) will pay Party B a monthly living stipend. During the duration of the marriage, Party B shall not interfere with Party A’s private personal space… I ripped it into a hundred pieces. Next to it was a small leather ledger. It was a meticulous accounting of his expenses over the last eight years. He was a man of habit; he recorded every single transaction. I had never paid attention to it before, but opening it now was like taking a knife to my own chest. April 2018. Landscaping for Evelyn’s grave. Memo: Dedicated fund for my beloved wife. $500. June 2018. Clara’s dental appointment. Memo: Labor maintenance expenses. $80. … So that was it. In his eyes, I was no different than a washing machine that occasionally needed a repairman. Staring at those entries, one by one. My blood ran completely cold. My stomach churned violently, and I rushed to the bathroom, dry-heaving over the toilet for ten minutes. I took off the heavy winter coat I was wearing, threw it on the floor, and stomped on it twice. Because embroidered on the inner lining of the coat was the letter E. Evelyn. I took everything he had designated in his ledger as “Labor Supplies” and left them behind. Including the paper-thin, two-gram gold wedding band. When we got married, he bought it, claiming he didn’t like ostentatious displays of wealth and preferred things simple. It turned out he didn’t dislike ostentatious displays; he just disliked spending money on me. When I finished packing, all I had was a single, battered canvas duffel bag. This was the sum total of my eight years. The front door unlocked. Arthur was back. Seeing the chaotic mess in the apartment, he furrowed his brow, his eyes filled with extreme displeasure. “Clara, are you done throwing your tantrum? Mom is still lying in a hospital bed! What are you doing running back here? Pack a bag and get back to the hospital!” I was still wearing my cheap thrift-store clothes, but this time, my spine was ramrod straight. I took the slightly warped gold ring and placed it on the glass coffee table with a sharp clink. And then, I smiled. It was the first time in eight years I had smiled so freely, so recklessly in this house. “Professor Sterling, your unpaid maid, Clara Hayes, is officially off the clock.” “Oh, and I threw that coat in the trash. Wearing a dead woman’s clothes is bad luck. It was making me sick.” Arthur’s face changed drastically, as if he had just been slapped brutally across the face. “What did you just say?” “I said, I’ll see you at the county courthouse at 8:00 AM tomorrow for the divorce papers. Also, since I am a professional maid, remember to wire my eight years of back wages to my bank account. Don’t try to stiff me, or I’ll really look down on you.” With that, I ignored him, picked up my duffel bag, and stepped over the dried stain of the spilled stew, walking out the door.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “396449”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my maternity leave ended, my mother-in-law proposed we split childcare 50/50. But she was only covering the man’s share. Out of 24 hours a day, she would take the day shift, and I would take the night shift. She made lunch, I made dinner, and we took turns with breakfast. To keep things “fair,” she strictly forbade my husband from helping me. Later, my daughter spiked a terrible fever in the middle of the night. My mother-in-law physically blocked my husband from grabbing his car keys. “You’re not going!” she snapped. “I already covered your shift today. The night shift is her responsibility.” I had no choice but to order an Uber to the hospital. I never expected the exhausted driver to crash on the way there. My baby girl and I were trapped in the wreckage and burned alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very last day of my maternity leave. “Chloe, sweetie, I need to talk to you about something.” My mother-in-law Brenda’s voice rang in my ears. I opened my eyes and saw her fake, sugary-sweet smile. Without waiting for my answer, she just kept talking: “You young people are all about going 50/50 these days. “Talking about money ruins relationships, so we won’t talk about money. “We’re just going to talk about how we split taking care of the baby.” Before I could get a word in, she continued, “Here’s what I’m thinking. “Out of 24 hours, I take the day, you take the night. “We set the hours, so nobody gets taken advantage of. “You leave for work at 7 AM, so I’ll watch her from 7 AM to 7 PM. “From 7 PM to 7 AM the next morning, she’s all yours. “I’ll cook lunch, you cook dinner, and we alternate breakfast. “How does that sound?” Her words were exactly the same as I remembered. At first glance, it almost sounded fair. But in my past life, Brenda genuinely believed she was stepping in to cover her son Mark’s half of the parenting. “I already did Mark’s share,” she would say. “He doesn’t help me during the day either. “So to keep it fair, he can’t help you at night.” From then on, Mark practically vanished when it came to chores and childcare. I worked from 8:30 AM to 5:30 PM. But the office was far, and my one-way commute took an hour and a half. Whether I had an early morning meeting or had to work late, Brenda didn’t care. She would physically block the door in the morning so I couldn’t leave a minute early. If I wasn’t walking through the door right at 7 PM, she would blow up my phone with back-to-back calls. It made my managers despise me. My performance reviews tanked every month. If I hadn’t still been pumping, I would have been fired immediately. Meanwhile, Mark didn’t lift a finger. In the mornings, while Brenda was holding me hostage at the front door, he was snoring in bed like a pig. In the evenings, while I was rushing to cook dinner in the kitchen, my daughter Lily would sit on the floor, clinging to my leg and crying. Mark and Brenda would be out in the living room, watching TV and chatting. I could hear their laughter from the kitchen. But somehow, they were entirely deaf to Lily’s screaming. One night, I just wanted to take a quick shower and asked Mark to watch Lily for five minutes. Brenda practically leaped off the couch. “You’re cheating!” “How am I cheating, Brenda?” I asked, furious. “I even take Lily to the bathroom with me during the day.” Brenda wiped away fake tears. “Well, nobody helps me during the day either!” “Mark isn’t home during the day,” I explained. “But he’s home right now.” “Doesn’t matter. We agreed on 50/50, and nobody is breaking the rules,” she said, crossing her arms. “Besides, Mark worked hard all day at his job. “I already covered his shift for him. “Stop trying to exploit him.” Mark pretended he was too scared to help me, lounging on the couch and playing video games. Brenda even sat there feeding him little pieces of cut-up fruit. I had to wait until Lily finally fell asleep to rush into the shower. I never dared to shower for more than ten minutes. I was terrified she would choke in her sleep, roll off the bed, or wake up crying for me. After weeks of this, I was on the verge of a total breakdown. I tried reasoning with Mark. “Can I ask my mom to come stay with us and help?” “Where is your mom going to sleep?” he asked, clearly annoyed. We only had a two-bedroom apartment. I offered a solution: “My mom can share a room with your mom. “If she doesn’t want that, I’ll buy bunk beds. “Your mom can have the top or bottom, whatever she wants. My mom is fine with it.” “Absolutely not!” Brenda suddenly burst into our bedroom. She had been eavesdropping at the door the entire time. I sighed. “Then maybe you should go back to your hometown, Brenda. “My mom can take over entirely. “She doesn’t care about going 50/50, and she definitely won’t overwork your precious son.” “No way.” Brenda’s face hardened, her jowls shaking. “If I go back without my granddaughter, the whole church congregation will laugh at me.” I was an only child, and both my parents were retired. When I got pregnant, they immediately offered to help raise the baby. But Brenda fought it tooth and nail: “Her paternal grandmother is still alive and well! “Why on earth would the maternal grandparents raise the child?” Mark and I weren’t from this city. We met in college. After graduation, we found jobs, bought a house, and settled down here. Mark’s father had passed away in a car accident a few years prior. Brenda used his life insurance payout to cover the down payment on our place. When we were buying it, my parents offered to split the cost. That way, our monthly mortgage would be much lower. But Brenda refused. “The man’s family provides the house. “If word gets out that the bride’s family paid for half, we’ll be the laughingstock of our hometown.” So, my family didn’t contribute to the house. The deed only had Mark’s name on it. It was legally considered his pre-marital asset. There was no diamond ring, no fancy wedding paid for by his family. Instead, my parents gave me their entire life savings as a nest egg. They told me to use it however I saw fit. Mark and I had been together since freshman year. Back then, he treated me better than anyone else. We were inseparable. He was attentive, caring, and sweet. He worked odd jobs during summer breaks just to buy me gifts and take me on road trips. He remembered every little thing I said. Once, I casually mentioned I wanted to see a beluga whale. The very first day the local aquarium opened, Mark took me. Those two tickets cost him his entire food budget for the month. When we got there, we found out the belugas hadn’t arrived yet. Six months later, when they finally got them, he saved up and took me again. The whales were beautiful. Mark loved me. After six years together, I truly believed we were going to grow old together. So I didn’t care about whose name was on the deed. I used a huge chunk of my parents’ money to fully renovate and furnish our bare-bones house. I used the rest to buy a reliable commuter car. Because Mark’s office wasn’t near a bus route, I let him take the car. I squeezed onto the subway every single day. Because he only put down the bare minimum for the house, Mark’s entire paycheck went strictly to the mortgage. Every single household expense fell on my shoulders. That was exactly why I couldn’t afford to quit my job after having the baby. My parents lived several states away. Their pensions were modest, and they couldn’t afford the high rent and cost of living in our city. My salary wasn’t enough to hire a nanny, nor was it enough to rent my parents an apartment nearby. And since Brenda refused to let my mother stay with her, we were stuck. Under Brenda’s protective wing, Mark rapidly regressed into a massive mama’s boy. The man who was so wonderful before the wedding vanished entirely. When I was sobbing in the middle of the night from sheer exhaustion, his “comforting” words sounded exactly like Brenda’s: “This is just what being a mom is like. Deal with it. “It gets easier when they’re older. “Lily only wants you anyway, there’s nothing I can do to help.” Of course she didn’t want him—he never held her! Sometimes she would even cry just looking at him. Afraid of worrying my parents, I kept my nightmare a secret from them. They would even send Brenda gift baskets and call her, saying, “Thank you for working so hard for our daughter.” Brenda would immediately use the opportunity to play the martyr. “Oh, babies this small are just so difficult. “I’m all alone in the house during the day. “When she cries, I get so anxious I break out in a sweat. “I’m so busy I barely even have time to eat!” Then my mom would call me: “Your mother-in-law is working so hard taking care of the baby alone all day. “You need to be patient and treat her well.” It wasn’t just my parents. Brenda complained to anyone who would listen. The neighbors in our complex, her relatives back home—everyone thought she was a saint. They all thought I should be on my knees thanking her. I won’t deny she kept Lily alive during the day. But her hygiene was appalling, and she point-blank refused to do a single household chore. She believed that watching the baby was her absolute limit. She never cleaned up the kitchen after using it all day. Pots, pans, and dishes were piled high in the sink, waiting for me to wash them at night. Forget about sweeping, mopping, doing laundry, or organizing. The floors would be coated in dust, and she’d act like she couldn’t see it. When I mopped on the weekends, she complained I was blocking the TV. She never put Lily’s dirty clothes in the wash. But the second I started a load of laundry, she would hit pause and sneak her own dirty clothes in. I even found the muddy shoes she wore outside tossed into Lily’s toy bin. When I politely asked her to be more hygienic, she immediately went crying to Mark about how hard she worked and how ungrateful I was. Mark would tell me, “Chloe, my mom works hard enough during the day. “Older people just aren’t as clean as you are. “She can’t change her habits overnight. “Just let it go. You need to be more grateful.” “Grateful for what?” I shot back. “Is she just my child? “Your mom works hard during the day. “Do you think I don’t work hard going to the office all day, and then doing all the chores and taking care of the baby all night?” “You work hard too, honey,” Mark would say, giving me a half-hearted hug. But it was all lip service. He never actually did anything. Before Brenda moved in, I cooked, and Mark washed the dishes. I washed the clothes, and Mark folded them. Objectively, Mark used to do his half of the chores. But once Brenda arrived, she couldn’t bear to see her precious son lifting a finger. Whenever I asked him to do something, she shielded him with her 50/50 rule. “I already did Mark’s half today! He doesn’t have to do anything tonight.” So I just had to grit my teeth and bear it alone. Months later, Lily spiked a terrifying fever in the middle of the night. Her little body felt like a furnace. I shook Mark awake. “Get up, Lily is burning up.” Mark felt her forehead. “Pack a bag, we’re going to the ER.” I dressed Lily and grabbed the diaper bag. Mark threw on his clothes. “I’ll go warm up the car.” It was December. We parked in an outdoor lot. The windshield was entirely iced over and needed to be scraped. I put on my backpack and carried Lily toward the front door. Brenda heard the noise and came out of her room. “Where are you going at this hour?” “Lily has a fever, we’re taking her to the hospital,” I explained. Brenda peered into our bedroom and yelled, “Where’s Mark?!” “He went down to warm up the car.” “Wait for me,” Brenda said, retreating to her room to grab her coat. I assumed she was coming with us to help. But when we got downstairs, Brenda reached into the ignition and yanked the keys out. “Mom, what are you doing?” Mark asked, confused. Brenda glared at us. “You’re not going! “I already covered your shift. The night shift is hers.” Holding Lily, I stared at her in total shock. “Brenda, the baby is sick!” Brenda gripped the keys tightly, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets. “Kids get sick all the time. “When Mark was little, I carried him to the doctor all by myself.” Mark got out of the car. “Mom, stop causing a scene.” “A scene?!” Brenda screamed. “I’m doing this for you! “You have to work tomorrow! What about your health? “Besides, it’s Chloe’s turn to watch her. “You’re not a doctor, going to the hospital won’t do anything anyway. “She can take her by herself.” Lily, already miserable from the fever, started shrieking from Brenda’s yelling. I rocked her, begging, “Brenda, please just let Mark come with me. “I can’t do this alone.” “You’re a mother now. You have to,” Brenda sneered, grabbing Mark by the arm and dragging him toward the apartment building. Mark gave me an apologetic look but let himself be pulled inside. I had a spare car key in my bag. But Lily was thrashing and crying so hard she couldn’t sit safely in her car seat alone. My only option was to call an Uber. It was a freezing December night. There were barely any cars out. The app just kept spinning, searching for a driver. I tried calling Mark, but his phone was turned off. Standing at the entrance of our complex, holding my burning child, I broke down and sobbed. I eventually offered a huge cash tip on the app, and a driver finally accepted. After another 15 minutes, we got in. But I never could have guessed the driver was exhausted from driving a double shift. He crashed on the highway. The car was crushed, and the EV battery caught fire. Lily and I were trapped in the backseat and burned alive. My mind snapped back to the present. I could still feel the phantom, agonizing pain of the flames on my skin. Brenda was still standing in front of me, running her mouth. I picked up my phone and checked the calendar. It really was the last day of my maternity leave. “I’m tired,” I said, standing up and walking to my room. “You think about it! I’m doing you a favor! “You need to learn to be grateful!” Brenda yelled after me. I slammed the door, shutting her out. Lily was sleeping soundly in her crib, sweet and quiet. She looked like a little angel. But the sound of her agonizing screams from the fire still echoed in my head. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I leaned over, trembling, and picked her up. “It’s okay, sweetie. Mommy’s here. “We don’t need Daddy anymore, okay?” That evening, Mark came home from work. At the dinner table, Brenda brought it up again. “Mark, I talked to Chloe today about splitting the parenting 50/50. “She didn’t seem to like the idea.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “396448”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Back in our corner of the Rust Belt, my parents and I were the undisputed bosses of the neighborhood. When I was a kid, a corrupt county commissioner tried to seize our family land. My dad didn’t even flinch—he marched into the man’s office and ruthlessly stabbed himself in the thigh three times, terrifying the commissioner so badly he confessed to everything and earned himself three years eating federal prison food. When I was in high school, my guaranteed university scholarship was given to a wealthy donor’s kid. My mom didn’t just complain; she contacted every investigative journalist in the state and sparked a media firestorm that got the nepotism kid expelled and the administration fired. As for me, I grew up being called the “Detroit Firecracker.” I fought my way through school, undefeated against any bully who crossed my path. Over time, our family built a reputation. No one dared to mess with the Vances. That was, until I married into an old-money, Ivy League academic family and tucked away all my sharp edges. I wanted to be a good, gentle wife to my husband. However, in the third month of my marriage, my sister-in-law was beaten by her husband’s family so badly she suffered a miscarriage. My mother-in-law and my husband rushed over to save her. One came back missing a tooth, and the other came back sobbing helplessly. I looked down at the floral apron I was wearing. I took a deep breath. I untied the apron, grabbed my favorite baseball bat, and dialed a familiar number. “Mom, Dad. We got a job to do.” 1 The moment my mother-in-law, my husband, and I stepped into the Dawkins house, the silence was suffocating. The atmosphere felt incredibly oppressive. Coats were hanging in the entryway. A man’s heavy jacket, an old woman’s cardigan, a strange woman’s cocktail dress… But my sister-in-law’s favorite beige trench coat was nowhere to be seen. I frowned and walked further inside. The sight in the living room made me stop in my tracks. The coffee table was a graveyard of empty beer bottles and overflowing ashtrays. The carpet was filthy, and the trash can was spilling over onto the floor. Piles of dirty laundry were heaped on the sofa, and the dining table was covered in unwashed dishes. “Chloe? You in here, kiddo? Make a sound!” I called out. No answer. I walked straight to the master bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. When I pushed it open, I froze. There wasn’t a single trace of Chloe’s existence in that room. Her clothes were gone from the closet, replaced entirely by her husband Trevor’s things. Even the nightstand only held his phone charger and his electric razor. And most glaringly, the ornate wooden jewelry box she had brought as part of her dowry was missing. I backed out and pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. Instantly, the stale, musty smell of age hit my nose. The bedsheets were a faded, decades-old floral pattern. Clearly, this was her mother-in-law Martha’s room. My mother-in-law, Eleanor, and my husband, Miles, exchanged horrified looks. “Chloe just had a miscarriage. Where could she go all alone?” When Chloe got married, I had come here to help decorate this place. The Dawkins family was broke, but Chloe was so hopelessly in love she insisted on marrying Trevor. Eleanor, having no other choice, paid full cash for this two-bedroom condo so the newlyweds would have a nice place to live. But now, Chloe was in neither the master nor the guest bedroom. My heart climbed into my throat. The anxiety was building. Finally, the only door left was a locked utility closet. I raised my boot and kicked it hard. Bang! The door flew open. When I saw the scene inside, my brain buzzed, and all the blood rushed to my head. Inside the tiny, windowless eighty-square-foot closet was a rusty, narrow metal cot. And most importantly, right in the center of the washed-out bedsheet, there was a massive stain of dried blood. In that instant, my entire body went ice cold. My mind uncontrollably flashed to all those news reports of abusive husbands beating their wives to death. Eleanor saw it, let out a blood-curdling shriek, and threw herself toward the bed. “My poor baby!” Miles stiffened entirely, the boxes of nutritional supplements he was carrying crashing to the floor. I stood paralyzed in the doorway. Truth be told, Chloe and I had never gotten along. She thought I was too brash and not good enough for her sophisticated brother, and I thought she was pretentious, fake, and dramatic. During the two years Miles and I dated, we fought like cats and dogs. If she put cilantro in my food knowing I hated it, I would “accidentally” throw out her takeout. If she tossed my stuffed animal in the dog bed, I’d dump her expensive makeup down the toilet. It wasn’t until she moved out to get married that our war finally ended. But no matter how much we fought, I considered Chloe my family. She was a Bennett, which meant she was under my protection. Just as Eleanor was about to pass out from crying, a weak voice came from the front door. “Mom? Miles? Roxy? Is that you?” Chloe stood there, ghostly pale, holding a plastic bag of wilted cabbage, looking completely lost and terrified. I turned and saw that she had lost so much weight she was practically skeletal. She had only been married a few months, yet there were streaks of gray in her hair. I marched over, snatched the bag of groceries from her hand, and threw it on the floor. “Do you have a death wish? You just had a miscarriage and you’re out grocery shopping?” Chloe flinched in terror, instinctively shrinking back. “Why… why are you guys here?” I glared at her, furious at her weakness. “Are you only tough when you’re at home? You used to fight me to the death, and now you can’t even stand up for yourself?” “Look at you, acting like a beaten dog while they walk all over you!” Chloe’s tears immediately spilled over, her whole body trembling so hard she couldn’t speak. Eleanor rushed over, throwing her arms around Chloe and sobbing loudly. Right then, Chloe’s phone rang. The moment she answered, Martha’s ear-piercing screech exploded from the speaker. “Chloe! Did you slow-cook those ribs like I told you? And this house better be spotless!” “We’re almost home! And you haven’t paid this month’s rent yet. If you don’t pay up, I’m having my son throw you out on the street!” I was completely dumbfounded. Didn’t my mother-in-law buy this condo? Chloe was sleeping in a closet, and she had to pay rent? Hearing that, I snatched the phone right out of Chloe’s hand. “Chloe! Where the hell did you die to? Are you ignoring me?” Martha was still screaming. I put the phone to my mouth and fired back, “Why are you howling at my sister like a rabid dog?” “What’s the matter, did your family graveyard get hit by a mortar shell and blast you out here to wail at us?” The line went dead silent for a few seconds. Then, in disbelief: “You…” “Don’t ‘you’ me,” I cut her off. “I’m calling to let you know your worst nightmare has officially arrived to wreck your house!” I hung up the phone with a loud click. A second later, my own phone buzzed. It was a text from my mom: [Baby girl, your dad and I are on our way.] [Hold the fort. We’ll be there in five.] 2 My husband Miles just stared at me, completely stunned. Eleanor looked at me through her tears, her eyes wide with terror, acting as if she were meeting her daughter-in-law for the very first time. After all, to marry the Ivy League golden boy, I had spent months playing the role of the sweet, accommodating angel. In the whole family, only Chloe knew my true colors. I ignored them and turned my attention back to Chloe. Pointing at the pathetic, wilted cabbage on the floor, I suppressed my rage. “This is what you eat?” Chloe kept her head down, staying silent. “You just lost your baby, and you go out to buy groceries? And you have to come back, cook for them, and clean this pigsty?” Miles couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped forward. “Chloe, have you been hiding this from us the entire time?” “If you hadn’t ended up in the hospital, we never would have known you were living in this hell!” Staring at the top of Chloe’s head, I took a deep breath. “Head up. Look at me.” Chloe slowly raised her head, her eyes swollen completely shut from crying. “You don’t sleep in the master bedroom. You don’t sleep in the guest room. You sleep in that rusty utility closet?” Her lips trembled. “Sleeping in the closet is one thing,” I took a step closer. “You pay them rent every month?” “Anyone looking at this would think this house belonged to your wicked mother-in-law!” Chloe sniffled, her voice as quiet as a mosquito. “Martha said… she worked hard her entire life and never had a house in her name, so…” She trailed off, her voice fading completely. “So you transferred the deed of the condo over to her?” “You absolute idiot of a sister!” I grabbed her by the shoulders, asking her with genuine disbelief: “Were you dropped on your head as a baby? Or did a mule kick you in the brain?” Chloe’s tears flowed like a broken dam. “Roxy, I’m sorry…” She wailed, “I shouldn’t have hidden it! I was just terrified you’d all be angry, that you’d be disappointed in me…” Eleanor started weeping all over again. Aside from me, the three of them were just a crying, emotional mess. I took stock of my allied forces. A cowardly sister-in-law, a passive husband, and a mother-in-law who only knew how to cry. It seemed my actual combat effectiveness was the only thing holding the line. My heart began to race with anticipation. This was right up my alley. If the in-laws were acting toxic, well, this daughter-in-law was radioactive. Chloe was still repenting: “Roxy, you didn’t laugh at me, you’re actually helping me… I used to make your life miserable, I’m such a horrible person…” I cut her off. “Don’t flatter yourself. If it weren’t for you, marrying into this family would have been boring as hell.” Chloe’s crying abruptly stopped, freezing on her face. I grabbed her hand, already shifting gears. “Alright, playtime is over. I’m going to teach you how to handle real business.” She looked at me, hiccuping. “What… what real business?” I turned and looked at the mountain of dirty laundry, empty bottles, and cigarette butts on the coffee table. “Go! Smash every single thing they own.” “Let that toxic energy out.” Chloe’s eyes went round as saucers, tears still hanging on her lashes. Eleanor was stunned. “Roxy, we can’t…” Miles was equally panicked. “Honey, you need to calm down…” I let go of Chloe’s hand and cracked my knuckles. “Calm down? Why would I calm down?” “I, Roxy Vance, married into the Bennett family, and this is the first real piece of business I get to handle.” “If I don’t let this rage out today, how can I ever call myself the Detroit Firecracker again?” Right as the words left my mouth, a violent banging erupted at the front door. “Chloe! Open the door!” Martha’s booming voice pierced right through the wood. “Is that loudmouth bitch from the phone still in there? Tell her to drag her ass out here right now!” 3 The banging on the door grew louder and more violent. “Chloe! Open up! Haven’t had a beating in a few days and you think you can rebel?” Chloe violently flinched. Instinctively, she grabbed me, Eleanor, and Miles, and shoved us toward the utility closet. I was actually getting excited—speak of the devil—but then Chloe slammed the door shut and locked us in from the outside! “Kiddo! What are you doing?!” I yelled, banging on the door. “Roxy, don’t come out…” Chloe’s trembling voice came through the wood. “They… they actually hit people. I-I’ll go open the door. Just hide…” Her frantic footsteps hurried away. Eleanor lost her mind, pounding desperately on the door. “Chloe! Come back here! Let your mother out!” Miles threw his body against the door to ram it. The frame shook, but the lock held firm. “Don’t waste your energy,” I said, pulling them both back. I looked down at the lock. Eleanor was stomping her feet in a panic. “Roxy, what do we do?! With her condition, if she takes another beating, it’ll kill her!” Miles’s eyes were bloodshot. “I’ll break the door down!” “By the time you break it down, your sister will have gone through two rounds of beatings.” I pulled a black bobby pin from my hair and crouched in front of the keyhole. Eleanor stared. “Roxy, what are you doing?” “Picking the lock.” “You… you know how to pick locks?” “My dad taught me,” I said, not looking up. “Before he stabbed himself to frame that county commissioner, he picked the guy’s front door lock.” I shined my phone light into the keyhole and listened to the chaos outside. “Careful, Mom, the floor is dirty,” a young, sickeningly sweet woman’s voice said. “Chloe? Where the hell did you die to?” Martha yelled. “Mom, Trevor, look at her! She’s just standing there!” “The trash isn’t empty, the house isn’t clean, and my ribs aren’t cooked!” “Mom, Tiffany, I’m gonna hit the bathroom first. I’ll teach this deadbeat a lesson when I get out,” a man’s voice—Trevor—grunted. I gritted my teeth, accelerating my movements with the bobby pin. Outside, Martha was scolding again. “I told you to clean! What have you been doing?” “I… I wasn’t feeling well today,” Chloe’s voice shook. “Not feeling well?” Martha sneered. “You just had a simple miscarriage. Do you think you’re a princess?” “Mom, Chloe doesn’t look sick to me. Do you think she’s faking it?” Tiffany asked innocently. “I really don’t feel good…” “Don’t feel good? I think your skin is just itching for a beating!” The moment that sentence ended, I heard the heavy thud of a shoe kicking a human body. Eleanor heard it and her legs gave out; she nearly collapsed. Miles caught her, his face ashen. Martha kept cursing. “Stop playing dead! Get up and make dinner!” I bit down hard on my lip, my hand steadying the pin. Finally, with a sharp click, the lock turned. Before Eleanor or Miles could even react, I kicked the door open and charged out. 4 In the living room, Chloe was curled up on the floor, her arms covering her head. Martha stood over her with her hands on her hips, cursing a blue streak. A woman in a red dress—Tiffany—raised her foot, ready to deliver another kick to Chloe’s ribs. I crossed the room in three strides and shoved Tiffany hard. Caught off guard, she stumbled back several steps. She looked at Martha, playing the victim. “Mom—” Martha looked me up and down. “You’re the bitch who cursed me out on the phone, aren’t you?” “Perfect timing. Get on your knees and apologize to me right now!” “Otherwise, I’ll make my son divorce this worthless loser!” I couldn’t help but look at Chloe. She scrambled up from the floor, pale as a ghost, her hands unconsciously balling into fists. It was obvious she had endured this kind of verbal abuse for a long time, too terrified to fight back. Seeing this, Tiffany let out a mocking laugh and casually brushed her long hair behind her ear. In doing so, she purposefully flashed the sparkling gold bracelets, gold earrings, and gold necklace she was wearing. I narrowed my eyes. Wasn’t that Chloe’s dowry jewelry? No wonder I didn’t see it in the master bedroom. The Dawkins family had stolen it and given it to the mistress. Seeing the smug look on Tiffany’s face, a surge of pure, adrenaline-fueled excitement ignited in my chest. Ever since my parents and I got famous in our hometown, no one dared to pull this kind of psychotic garbage in front of me. Today, the trash had delivered itself right to my doorstep. I blinked innocently. “I’ll take that!” Before Tiffany could process what was happening, I reached out and violently stripped every piece of gold jewelry off her body. I shoved the jewelry into Chloe’s stunned hands. Chloe teared up. “Roxy…” “Ahhh!” Tiffany shrieked, grinding her teeth. “You psycho bitch, you robbed my gold!” She lunged at me. I pushed her back with a single finger. Martha clutched her chest, hollering dramatically. “There’s no justice! The daughter-in-law brought a gang to commit home invasion!” At that moment, Trevor finally strolled out of the bathroom. Tiffany instantly threw herself into his arms, whining. “Babe, this crazy woman stole my gold!” Trevor looked at me. He clearly didn’t take me seriously, even letting out a laugh. “Are you Bennetts lining up to get your asses kicked? Did the rest of your family die out or something?” Hearing that, Eleanor almost stopped breathing. Her husband had passed away early, leaving her to raise Miles and Chloe alone. Now I was here. That comment was designed to stab Eleanor right in the heart. I was just about to verbally obliterate him when my phone buzzed twice. I pulled it out. It was my mom: [Baby girl, your dad and I are downstairs.] [Waiting for the elevator. We’ll be there in 30 seconds. Go bold! Mom’s got your back.] Seeing me check my phone, Martha thought I was scared. She puffed out her chest proudly. “Chloe married into my family, so she belongs to us! If you try to stop us, I’ll have my son beat you too!” I slipped my phone back into my pocket and fired right back: “You crypt-keeper, with one foot already in the grave, your soul is dirtier than a sewer. You better hope your spineless son outlives you, because otherwise nobody is gonna bury your rotting corpse.” Martha clutched her chest. “You… you!” I turned to the cheating husband, continuing my barrage. “And you!” “You cowardly piece of garbage, drinking cheap beer and using it as an excuse to beat your wife. You call yourself a man?” “Trash like you is gonna get hit by a bus the second you step outside, and any kid you manage to spawn won’t even have a soul!” Trevor’s eyes went completely bloodshot, his face contorting with rage. “You bitch, you’re asking for it!” He rolled up his sleeves, raised his fist, and charged at me. Chloe screamed, “Roxy, watch out!” I took one step back. His fist missed entirely, and his momentum sent him stumbling forward. Taking advantage of his imbalance, I raised my hand and slapped him directly across the face. Growing up, my mom made me do manual labor. I had serious arm strength. Not to mention, I put 100% of my power into that slap. Trevor swayed in place, completely stunned for two full seconds. When he finally snapped out of it, his face was purple, his eyes filled with absolute fury. Completely losing his mind, he looked around, then rushed into the kitchen and pulled out a gleaming meat cleaver. Martha fanned the flames. “Get her, son! Show this bitch who runs this house!” Chloe’s legs gave out in terror. Eleanor fainted on the spot. Miles panicked and screamed, “Roxy, run!” Trevor looked deranged, gripping the knife and stepping toward me. Seeing this, I wasn’t scared at all. In fact, I was thrilled. As long as he attacked first with a weapon, I could put him in a jail cell for the rest of his life. Trevor sneered darkly. “You were talking real big a second ago, you bitch! Why aren’t you talking now?” Just at that exact moment, a booming, thunderous woman’s voice rang out from the front door. “Well, look at this party! Why’d you start the fight without me?” Trevor and I turned our heads at the same time. My mom was standing in the doorway, gripping a solid wooden bat, a gleeful, feral light shining in her eyes.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “396447”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When our old neighborhood was bought out by a luxury developer, we negotiated a deal for ten pre-construction condo units. My husband begged me to sell a few of the contracts to fund his former college mentee’s cancer treatment. “Audrey, I’m begging you to save Chloe. She’s so young, she hasn’t even had the chance to experience the beauty of the world. I don’t want her to die.” I refused. He immediately filed for divorce and walked away with five of my condo contracts. “Audrey, I love you, but my hands are tied. Once we sell the condos and cure Chloe, we’ll get remarried.” I turned and walked away, never looking back. He never expected the developer to go bankrupt and the CEO to be arrested for fraud. Until the day Chloe died of her illness, those condos were never built. 1 Carter and I walked out of the courthouse. He grabbed my hand. With a complex, tortured expression, he said to me: “Audrey, I know you’re upset, but I really had no other choice.” He pursed his lips, looking at me softly. “Chloe is barely in her twenties. She’s so pitiful, and she has no one else to rely on but me. I have to save her, and I know I can.” His eyes shone with absolute certainty. I shook off his hand and nodded. “Right. Good luck beating cancer. Goodbye.” Carter froze for a second, then reached for my hand again. “Audrey, listen to me. I don’t really want to divorce you. You refused to give me the condos, so I had to do this. We’re divorced on paper, but we don’t have to separate. I’m still going to live at home with you.” He tried to pull my head onto his shoulder, a dreamy look in his eyes. “Once the condos are built, I’ll sell them, use the cash to cure Chloe, and then we’ll have a baby, okay? Haven’t you always wanted a baby? We’ll get remarried. I know you still love me.” I gently pushed Carter away, pulled the divorce decree from my pocket, and said exhaustedly: “Carter, we are divorced. Ten condo contracts, and you took half. You got exactly what you wanted. Since your wish came true, let’s just go our separate ways. Bothering me anymore would be crossing a line.” Carter stood there, stunned. His eyes widened as if he was seeing me for the first time. He frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but his phone rang. He answered it, his brow furrowing as he spoke softly: “Chloe, just bear with the pain for a little longer. I’m already getting the money together. We’ll get you treated soon, and you’re going to be fine.” He paused, seemingly realizing his tone had been a bit impatient, and quickly softened it to comfort her: “I’m heading over right now. Don’t panic, I’m always here for you.” Hanging up, he turned back to me. “Audrey, I need to go check on Chloe. She needs someone by her side right now. Stop throwing a childish tantrum and wait for me at home.” With that, he walked away quickly. I stood there, watching his back, and let out a long sigh. From the neighborhood buyout, to getting the ten condo contracts, to him filing for divorce—this past year had left me physically and mentally exhausted. I really didn’t want to stay in this city anymore. I wanted to find a quiet place to clear my head and leave all this garbage behind. I pulled myself together and walked toward a real estate brokerage. On the way, I passed the construction site for our new condos. The frames were already up, and they were scheduled to be finished in a few months. At the brokerage, I listed my remaining five pre-construction condo contracts on the market all at once. The agent told me that since the buildings weren’t finished and the deeds hadn’t been issued yet, selling the contracts now would mean taking a lower price. If I waited a few months, they would be worth significantly more. I waved my hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. Just sell them. I don’t care how much they go for. I’m moving out of state.” 2 I spent the whole day running errands and didn’t get home until the evening. When I opened the front door, I froze. Chloe was lying in the master bedroom, her face pale, her head completely bald. Carter was crouching next to the bed, holding a warm towel, gently wiping her face. Seeing me, Carter looked up and gave me a relieved smile. “Audrey, you’re back? Perfect. Chloe doesn’t have chemo for the next few days, and her apartment lease just ended. She has nowhere to go, so she’s going to crash with us for a bit.” Chloe shifted weakly, looking at me with a face full of guilt. “Audrey, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I dragged you into this and ruined your marriage. It breaks my heart. I shouldn’t be bothering you guys… I’ll leave right now.” She propped herself up, pretending to struggle. Carter immediately pushed her back down gently. “Chloe, don’t move. Just lie down and rest.” Carter shot me a glare, then turned back to comfort Chloe, his voice dripping with tenderness. “It has nothing to do with you. Audrey is just being petty and jealous. We’re completely platonic, we’re just like brother and sister. I’ll talk some sense into her, she’ll come around.” I stood in the doorway, watching this ridiculous performance, feeling completely drained. I didn’t even have the energy to be angry anymore. Leaning against the doorframe, I took a breath and spoke: “Carter, the divorce settlement was crystal clear. You took five condo contracts and half our savings. This house was left to me. You and your guest are not welcome here.” Carter frowned, looking at me in disbelief. “Audrey, what is your problem? How can you be so cold-blooded? Chloe is incredibly sick! Can’t you just let her stay for a few days? She has absolutely no one else. We’re the only ones who can help her!” My voice rose slightly as I pointed at him. “I’m cold-blooded? When you sued me for divorce and stripped me of half my assets, why didn’t you call yourself cold-blooded? Now you’re bringing a stranger to live in my house, and you have the nerve to lecture me?” Chloe tugged weakly at Carter’s shirt. “Carter, let it go. I should just leave. Please don’t fight with Audrey because of me. I’ll be fine, I’ll just find a motel or sleep in my car.” Carter immediately shielded her, glaring at me with a hardened tone. “Audrey, is this really necessary? Look at the state she’s in! Can’t you just be the bigger person? I know you’re still mad at me, but Chloe is innocent! If you’re really that miserable about it, then you can move out!” 3 The tension in the room spiked. Chloe suddenly started thrashing around, seemingly losing her balance, and fell off the bed onto the floor. The back of her head hit the edge of the nightstand, and blood started to seep out. I flinched slightly, but Carter went into a full-blown panic. He threw himself onto the floor, pulling Chloe into his arms. “Chloe! Are you okay? Did she scare you?!” He pressed his hand against her wound to stop the bleeding while frantically fumbling for his phone to call 911, his hands shaking violently. Chloe leaned weakly against his chest, her face even paler than before, but she still managed to look up at me and whisper: “Carter, don’t blame Audrey… It was my own fault. Don’t be mad at her.” Hearing that, Carter snapped his head up and glared at me, his eyes filled with pure hatred. The paramedics arrived quickly. As Carter helped load Chloe onto the stretcher, he threw me one last icy look. “Audrey, I was so wrong about you. You watched her suffer and did nothing. You’ll rot in hell for this!” I stood in the empty room, watching the ambulance speed away. I didn’t move, and I didn’t say a word. Once they were gone, I called my real estate agent and told him to list the house I was standing in on the market immediately. The very next day, the agent called me, his tone practically buzzing with excitement. “Audrey, we’ve got cash buyers lined up for all six of your properties! The market is red-hot right now, and the offers are actually a bit higher than you expected. Come down to the escrow office and let’s get the paperwork signed.” I agreed, quickly got ready, and headed to the title company. After finishing the closing paperwork, I walked out and bumped right into Carter, who was staring at a real estate market ticker in the lobby. His eyes were bloodshot—he had clearly stayed up all night at the hospital. When he saw me, he immediately marched over. “Audrey, I just saw the listings. You sold all six properties?! Are you insane? Are you really throwing this much of a tantrum? You sold your own home just to keep Chloe from staying there? What kind of monster are you?” I didn’t say a word. I just turned to leave. Carter frowned and chased after me, his tone laced with frustration. “Listen to me, you’re making a massive mistake. Housing prices are skyrocketing right now. I checked the projections—if you just waited a few more months until the condos are built, every single unit would sell for hundreds of thousands more! You just took a massive loss out of spite!” When I still didn’t react, he paused, and his tone softened a bit. “Look, I still have about a hundred grand in cash right now. That’s enough to cover Chloe’s treatments for the time being, so I don’t even need to sell my condos yet. Why are you rushing this? Look… once Chloe is cured, I’ll buy us a new house, and we can go back to living a good life together.” I glanced at Carter. He genuinely couldn’t comprehend why I had liquidated everything. It was because I was leaving for good. 4 As I turned away, he panicked. He reached out to grab my arm, moving so quickly that a piece of paper slipped out of his jacket pocket and fluttered to the ground. I glanced down. It was a lab report from the hospital. It clearly stated that Chloe was two weeks pregnant. Carter’s face drained of color. He scrambled to pick it up, his fingertips trembling. “It’s not what you think, Audrey! Don’t misunderstand!” He clutched the paper in his hand, stuttering through a frantic explanation, his eyes darting everywhere as he tried to act calm. “Chloe… because of her cancer, she’s been so depressed about her treatments. She kept crying about how her biggest regret was never having a baby. I couldn’t just sit there and watch her die with regrets! And the doctor said it was medically possible for her…” He swallowed hard and quickly added: “I swear to you, I never touched her! I never betrayed you! We just went to a clinic and did an IVF procedure! Once the baby is born, it’ll give Chloe a reason to live, and maybe her cancer will go into remission! Plus, I spent the last few months prepping for this—quitting drinking, eating healthy—so I have experience now! We can use all this experience when we have our own baby, okay?” I stood there, listening to him, feeling nothing but sheer absurdity. When I didn’t respond, he panicked even more and desperately tried to change the subject. “Audrey, you sold the house… where are you going to sleep? Where am I supposed to find you tonight? We agreed we were divorcing but not separating! Don’t think you can use this as an excuse to hide from me!” I opened my mouth to speak, but his phone rang again. He answered it, sounding irritated. “Chloe, what is it now?” Chloe’s frail, sweet voice echoed from the speaker: “Carter, hurry up and come over! I picked out my wedding dress! And I picked out a tuxedo for you too! I memorized your exact measurements, it’s going to look so handsome on you!” Before she could finish, Carter violently ended the call. He looked up at me. His face was deathly pale, his eyes darting away in shame. He opened his mouth, but not a single word came out. 5 It took him several agonizing seconds to regain his voice. He grabbed my arm and practically shouted: “Audrey, don’t misunderstand! It’s really not what it sounds like!” I frowned, trying to shake him off, but his grip was like a vise. He spoke at a mile a minute: “It’s just another one of Chloe’s regrets! She’s never had a wedding, so she just wants to do a fake wedding photoshoot! I’m just helping her fulfill a dying wish!” He swallowed hard. “We are completely platonic! There is nothing inappropriate going on! It’s literally just taking a few photos to give her a nice memory! Once she’s cured, we’ll cut contact completely, I promise! You have to believe me!” I looked at his pathetic, self-deluding face, and honestly, I just felt nauseous. I didn’t have the energy to argue with him, nor did I care to. I ripped my arm out of his grasp and walked away. He stood frozen on the sidewalk, his body trembling violently. For the next few days, Carter didn’t reach out. I didn’t know if he was too busy with Chloe’s chemo, or if he just couldn’t figure out how to lie to me anymore. Probably both. I couldn’t care less. The silence was peaceful. I officially resigned from my job and said goodbye to my friends. With the cash from the six properties sitting safely in my bank account, it was time to leave. On the way to the airport, my Uber drove past the construction site for the luxury condos. I noticed that the cranes had stopped moving, and all the heavy machinery had been hauled away. The site was completely deserted. I didn’t think much of it and continued to the airport. While sitting in the departure lounge, I was surprised to spot Carter and Chloe sitting a few rows away. Chloe was leaning heavily against Carter’s shoulder, holding a glossy wedding photography brochure. Carter was gently turning the pages for her, his voice soft and tender. “Look at this one, Chloe, isn’t it beautiful? You’re a little too skinny right now, but once you’re healthy again, we’ll take another set of photos.” Chloe smiled weakly. “Carter, I must have saved a nation in my past life to be lucky enough to meet you in this one. If I die tomorrow, I’d have no regrets.” Carter gently covered her mouth with his hand, frowning affectionately. “Don’t talk like that. Once we get back from our honeymoon, I’m going to sell all five condos and get you the best medical treatment in the world. Be a good girl.” Then, sensing someone watching him, he looked up and made eye contact with me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “396446”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My mom eyed me with deep suspicion. “The neighbor’s kid, Tommy, goes to the exact same college as you. How come he isn’t heading back to campus a week early?” I rubbed my hands together, sweating bullets. “You’re going back early to see a boy, aren’t you? Look, I’m not some old-fashioned prude. Here’s an extra three hundred bucks. Go have fun.” I accepted the cash with profound gratitude. “You are so right, Mom. So right!” My mom completely bought it. On the Amtrak train back to campus, I pulled out my brand-new, untouched Physics 101 textbook and started frantically copying down formulas, scratching my head in despair. See a boy? Hell no. I was going back early to take a makeup exam! While I was literally on my way to the exam hall, a FaceTime call from my mom popped up. “Harper, honey! Let Mom get a look at this new boyfriend of yours.” 1 I was dead. The only new thing I was getting today was a new failing grade. I definitely didn’t have a new boyfriend to show her! Driven by pure desperation, I randomly aimed my phone camera at a stranger walking past me on the sidewalk. “Mom, this is the reason I came back to school early,” I whispered into the mic. When I lie to my mom, I fully commit to the bit. I had only planned to use the stranger’s side profile to appease her. But despite how softly I spoke, the gorgeous guy in the frame actually turned his head and looked at the camera. Through the phone, my mom shrieked. “He’s so handsome?! Are you dating a movie star?! Bring him home this weekend!” “Gotta go, honey! I’m taking screenshots to show off to my book club, hahahaha!” The video call abruptly ended on my mom’s exaggerated, booming laughter. Leaving me and the handsome stranger standing in the wind, staring at each other. The guy had perfect posture and a sharp, breathtakingly handsome jawline. Absolute god-tier looks. I scratched my head and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m so sorry. I was too embarrassed to tell my parents I came back early for a makeup exam, so I lied and said I was coming back to see a boyfriend.” The handsome guy nodded in understanding. He actually matched my pace and started walking with me. Clearly, we were heading to the same building. I shifted into a light jog to keep up and struck up a conversation. “Hey, are you taking the Physics makeup exam too?” The guy didn’t say a word, just kept walking forward. I noticed he wasn’t carrying a backpack or any study materials. It was obvious he was an honest student—but Physics 101 was brutally hard. Going in without cheating? He was guaranteed to fail! A brilliant idea struck me. “Bro, how about this? I’m locked and loaded with cheat sheets. I’ve transcribed almost every single formula. I’ll share my guaranteed-to-pass cheating tips with you, and in exchange, you come home with me this weekend to meet my parents.” The moment I said that, he stopped in his tracks. Seeing that he was intrigued, I officially began my entry-level cheating tutorial! I pulled out the “tissue-paper study guide” from my pocket. Then, I reached into my knee-high socks and produced a ten-fold formula accordion. And the ultimate weapon—my phone! The handsome guy looked confused. “How are you getting a phone into the exam hall? The proctors always use metal detector wands.” I smiled like a genius. “Heh. They only scan the body. If you hold the phone flat against your palm while you raise your arms, they never find it! Plus, my phone folds!” “What about the signal jammers?” “The ancient jammers our school uses can’t even block a 5G signal. My service works perfectly in there.” The guy nodded thoughtfully, then asked with genuine curiosity: “If you have so many brilliant methods, how did you fail the final exam in the first place?” I waved my hand dismissively and patted his broad shoulder. “Let us not dwell on past failures. We must look to the future!” When we got to the classroom, I spotted my fellow struggling friends. Perfect. Our academic survival squad was assembled. But I didn’t forget the handsome stranger I had just met. I quickly pulled him into our circle. The girls took one look at his suffocatingly good looks and instantly agreed to let him join. Everyone started enthusiastically sharing their cheat sheets and coordinating how we were going to pass answers under the proctor’s nose. The handsome guy must have been deeply moved by my generosity. He even asked for the names of everyone in our survival squad. I raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a look that said, No need to thank me. A true wingwoman always looks out for her bros. He’d remember this favor for the rest of his life. 2 Ten minutes left until the exam. Everyone was fully prepped and locked in. The only thing missing was the proctor, who was running late. My best friend, Zoe, started dishing the gossip on our invigilator. “I heard the proctor for our room is a literal god from Apex University. He’s a second-year PhD student, ridiculously hot—like, better looking than celebrities. He’s only proctoring at our college today to do a favor for a friend.” “Apparently, he’s a research genius. He hasn’t even graduated yet, and research labs from both Apex and our school are fighting over him. They’re already offering him seven-figure salaries.” Lexi, another girl in our group, slammed her hand on the desk in regret. “Damn it! If I had known, I would have worn a full face of makeup today.” “Ugh, we’re gonna have to be super careful cheating with a guy like that.” “Don’t worry about it!” I reassured them. “A golden boy like him has never seen the kind of high-tech underground cheating methods we use!” … The room finally quieted down when a roaming supervisor came in to drop off the exam packets. “Hey, where is Mr. Payne? Wasn’t he already on duty?” the supervisor muttered. Mr. Payne? I turned to my friends and whispered, “What a weird name. If he’s Mr. Payne, I guess I’m Miss Pleasure.” My dirty-minded friends instantly caught the joke and started giggling uncontrollably. My face flushed hot. “I didn’t mean it like that!” But no matter how much I tried to defend myself, the damage was done. Right as everyone was still grinning like idiots, the handsome stranger from earlier—who had been sitting quietly in the corner—slowly stood up. He calmly walked to the front, accepted the stack of exam papers, pulled a staff ID badge from his pocket, and stepped up to the podium. “Hello everyone. I am your proctor for today, Carter Payne.” Wait. Excuse me? Is it too late for me to apologize by throwing myself out the window? 3 Obviously, it was too late. Forget the phones and the cheat sheets. Even the smart-watch Zoe had strapped to her ankle got confiscated. Carter Payne stated he had no malicious intentions. I agreed. He didn’t have malicious intentions. He just didn’t want us to survive. There was zero suspense. My friends and I were completely wiped out by Carter in one fell swoop. We all failed and were forced to retake the class this semester. Utterly defeated, I practically got on my knees in our group chat. “I am so sorry. I invited the wolf into our house. To make up for this, I am willing to lay down my life for you all!” Lexi replied with a “disgusted” sticker. “Stop offering us worthless trash.” Zoe immediately followed up: “Since you sincerely want to make it up to us, we will mercifully grant you a chance to redeem yourself.” I nodded like a bobblehead. “Name it. Anything.” “Carter is working as an adjunct professor at our college this semester, and he just happens to be our Physics 101 instructor. Your mission: seduce him, conquer him, wreck him! Get revenge for us, and then secure the final exam answers for this semester.” Huh? Me? What kind of delusional confidence did they have to think I could make an Apex University god look at me twice? I typed back helplessly: “Zoe, do you have a reality-distortion filter on me? How on earth am I supposed to bag a guy like that?” Zoe was supremely confident: “Based on my years of social experience, the way Carter looked at you today was absolutely not innocent. Just crook your finger, and he’ll bite the hook.” I didn’t know if his eyesight was bad, but Zoe’s eyesight was definitely broken. But things had reached a critical point. I had to try a desperate measure. Besides, I had failed the makeup exam. I absolutely could not let my parents find out that I came back to school early just to fail a test. The weekend was two days away. Time was of the essence. I had to rush over to Apex University and convince Carter to come home with me. 4 Before I left, my entire dorm worked together to paint my face in the ultimate “siren/baddie” makeup style. The head-turning rate on the street was undeniably high. Our college and Apex University were only separated by one main avenue. Carter was famous. All it took was asking a random student, and I immediately found out which dorm building he lived in. When I arrived at his building, I was genuinely shocked. Apex didn’t play around with their PhD candidates. Not only were they single rooms, but the lobby looked like a luxury apartment complex. It made me want to apply for a PhD. I was lucky. I only had to camp out in the lobby for half an hour before Carter walked in. He was wearing a crisp black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up slightly, exposing prominent, defined wrists. Unlike the casual, messy vibe he had the first time we met, today his hair looked styled. Every single strand radiated stupid amounts of handsome. I literally forgot to breathe for a second. When he dressed up, he was way too highly-visible. Every girl walking past was staring at him. “Looking for me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “How did you know?” I asked, confused. The corner of his mouth ticked up. “You’ve been squatting by the entrance for twenty-eight minutes. You ignored every other guy who walked past, and the second I came down, you stepped forward.” Playing murder mystery games with him would be terrifying. He’d solve it in five minutes. I got straight to the point. “Yes. I want you to come home with me this weekend to pretend to be my boyfriend and deal with my mom.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why should I?” “Because you used me to infiltrate my friend group, made me public enemy number one, caused me to fail my makeup exam, and now I have no way to explain to my parents why I came back early!” I snapped, getting anxious. The nerve of him to ask why! If it weren’t for him, I would have easily passed that exam, and I wouldn’t be here begging him to come home with me. He frowned slightly. “You’re cheating, and you somehow think you’re in the right?” “You—!” I licked my lips, completely unable to argue back. He was right. He was an Apex PhD student; he hadn’t done anything wrong. I had absolutely zero leverage to make him fake-date me. It seemed Zoe really was blind. There was nothing “not innocent” about the way he looked at me. Messing with him was a terrible idea. Just as Carter was turning around to leave, a clear, familiar voice interrupted my thoughts. “Harper? What are you doing here?” “Caleb?” 5 Caleb was a senior at Apex University. We met at a Greek life mixer. He had a pretty obvious crush on me. He was gentle, considerate, and polite. Which is why I had previously rejected him by claiming I was only into “cold, emotionally unavailable” men. My eyes lit up, and I quickly grabbed Caleb’s sleeve. “Caleb, are you free this weekend?” Caleb had barely opened his mouth to answer when Carter spun back around, staring at me coldly. “He’s not free.” “Huh? Professor Payne, I…” Caleb started. “Have you submitted your graduation thesis yet?” Carter asked smoothly. Speaking of his thesis, Caleb wasn’t panicked at all; he looked quite confident. “Not yet, but I’ll easily finish it by next week!” “Too late. Professor Miller wants it this Saturday. He wants you in his office on Saturday to review it.” Caleb panicked a little. “He didn’t send out an announcement.” Carter spoke calmly. “Professor Miller will notify you tonight.” Caleb nodded, then turned to me. “Well, I’m free on Sunday then!” My dimmed hopes flared back to life. “Sunday doesn’t work either,” Carter interrupted again. “The mini-essay for this module is strictly due on Sunday.” Caleb gasped. “What? Mr. Payne, you never mentioned a mini-essay!” Carter calmly pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times. “The notification has just been pushed to your student portal.” Seeing Caleb open his mouth to argue again, Carter kept going: “And the mock test that hasn’t been scheduled yet is now set for…” “I’m completely booked!!” Caleb shouted. He turned to me, looking extremely determined. “I am so sorry, Harper. I am not free this weekend. This weekend, I must study. I love studying. I’m going to go study now. Bye.” 6 “I can agree to pretend to be your boyfriend, but you have to agree to one condition.” After Caleb ran off, Carter leaned in close to me. His perfect features were suddenly magnified right in front of my face. I leaned back a few inches. “Deal! As long as you come home with me this weekend, I’ll agree to ten conditions!” “Good. My condition is that you come home with me tonight.” 7 Tonight? Come home with him? I looked down at my ultimate siren/baddie makeup, and then back up at Carter’s cold, restrained, academic face. Zoe’s words played in 3D surround sound in my head: Seduce him! Wreck him! Get the final exam answers! Could it be… I didn’t even need to initiate, and he was already biting the hook? Was this the legendary “the highest tier of hunter often appears as the prey” scenario? I swallowed hard, crossing my arms over my chest protectively, and stuttered, “Mr. Payne, although I do need your help, I have principles! Moving this fast… I-I’m not ready for this!” Carter looked at me like I was a complete moron. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What kind of garbage is floating around in your head? I meant we are going up to my apartment to sign a non-disclosure agreement and a three-point contract for the fake relationship.” “Oh…” I awkwardly lowered my arms, my toes curling so hard in my shoes I could have excavated a new basement for the Apex library. “Let’s go, then.” I followed behind him like an elementary school student called to the principal’s office. Carter didn’t take me into the dorms; instead, we walked out of the campus gates and arrived at a high-end luxury apartment building ten minutes away. The moment I stepped inside, I was stunned. It was a minimalist black, white, and gray aesthetic. Spotless hardwood floors, and abstract art pieces on the walls that were actually complex physics equations. But the most terrifying part was the massive desk in the center of the living room, piled high with foreign academic journals and scratch paper. This wasn’t a home. This was an interrogation room! “Sit,” Carter said, pointing to the chair opposite the desk. I obediently sat down and watched as he pulled a freshly printed A4 document from a drawer. Cooperation Agreement Regarding Carter Payne Acting as Harper Quinn’s Fake Boyfriend My eyes widened. “You already had this prepared? Are you a human printer?” “I printed it upstairs just now,” he said, handing me a pen. “Read the terms. If there are no issues, sign it.” I leaned in and read: [Article 1: Party B agrees to accompany Party A to her family home this weekend to act as her boyfriend and properly handle inquiries from Party A’s parents.] [Article 2: Party A must unconditionally cooperate with Party B’s established backstory during the fake relationship and must not expose the ruse.] [Article 3: In exchange, Party A’s retake of the “Physics 101” course this semester must be personally tutored by Party B. Party A is required to complete no less than 10 hours of extracurricular exercises at a location designated by Party B each week.] [Article 4: If Party A fails to score an 85 or higher on the final exam, Party B reserves the right to expose the fake boyfriend arrangement to Party A’s parents.] I slammed my hands on the desk and jumped up. “85?! You might as well kill me! I got an 18 on the makeup exam, Mr. Payne!” Carter leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, looking at me with a ghost of a smile. “What happened? Didn’t you just say you’d agree to ten conditions?” “But you can’t defy the laws of nature! Having my brain study Physics is like asking a pig to solve calculus!” “I won’t allow you to insult pigs like that.” “Carter!” “Are you signing or not?” He made a move to pull the contract back. “If you don’t sign, I’m face-timing your mom right now to tell her exactly how I confiscated your folding phone, tissue papers, and cheat sheets during the exam.” I slammed my hand down on the contract, grinding my teeth. “I’ll sign!” To avoid being murdered by my mom this weekend, I was forced to sell my soul. Carter watched with satisfaction as I signed my name, then pulled a textbook thicker than a cinderblock out from under the desk. Advanced Physics Problem Set. “Since you signed, let’s execute Article 3 right now. You can’t go back to your dorm until you finish chapter one.” I looked at that brick of a book, my vision going dark. Seduce him, wreck him… I chanted Zoe’s battle cry in my head, and with tears of grief, I opened the first page. The result was that Physics wrecked me for three solid hours. It wasn’t until 11:00 PM that I dragged my drained, empty husk of a soul out of Carter’s apartment. As I left, he leaned against the doorframe and instructed, “Tomorrow after class, I’ll pick you up from your campus, and we’ll head to the Amtrak station.” I waved weakly. “Got it, boyfriend.” He froze for a second, the tips of his ears turning suspiciously red, and then slam! he shut the door. Tch. What a prude.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “396445”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was just brought back to my wealthy biological family. But the moment I stepped foot into the house, the fake daughter threw herself into our parents’ arms, sobbing. “Dad, Mom, please forgive me, but I really can’t accept calling her my sister.” “She’s the transfer student who spread rumors about me at school and gave me depression!” Mom held the fake daughter, comforting her with a heartbroken expression. Dad was furious, looking at me with absolute disappointment. “I can’t believe leaving you out there for a few years turned you into such a delinquent!” “Butler, throw her out! The Vance family doesn’t have a daughter who bullies others!” I stood there, completely dumbfounded. My hands were signing so fast they looked like a blur. “I spread rumors about her?” “But I’m literally mute!” Chapter 1 I stood in the foyer, my fingertips still numb from the freezing wind outside. Chloe Vance was buried in my parents’ arms, crying so hard she could barely catch her breath. She hid her face in Mom’s neck, her shoulders trembling violently. When she finally looked up, the corners of her eyes were flushed red. “Dad, Mom, you don’t know what she did.” “When I got second place in our grade on the midterms, she went around telling everyone I cheated. She said Dad bribed the teachers, and that I slept with the Dean of Students to secure my Ivy League recommendation…” With every word she choked out, Mom patted her back a little harder, and Dad’s brow furrowed deeper. I opened my mouth, but only faint, breathy rasps came out. I haven’t been able to speak since I was a toddler. The doctors said my vocal cords were irreparably damaged. Over the years, I had gotten used to communicating entirely through sign language and a notepad. I raised my hands, my fingers just about to sign “That’s not true,” when my biological brother, Connor, abruptly stood up from the sofa. He closed the distance between us in three long strides, glaring down at me. The disgust in his eyes practically spilled over. “Clara, how long are you going to keep up this act? Chloe is severely depressed because of you, and you still want to make excuses?” I froze, my fingers stalling mid-air. Connor was the only son of the Vance family. From the moment I walked in, he had been fiercely protecting Chloe, his gaze full of tenderness whenever he looked at her. But the way he looked at me was like looking at trash on the bottom of his shoe. “Connor, please don’t speak to my sister like that…” Chloe tugged at Connor’s sleeve, her voice soft and fragile, yet every word felt like a needle driving into my heart. “Maybe Clara just really wants to fit into this family, and she used the wrong method to get our attention. I don’t blame her, I really don’t…” “You’re just too kindhearted!” Mom immediately hugged her tighter, then turned to me, her eyes as cold as ice. “Clara, we brought you back so you could feel the warmth of a real family, not so you could come here and bully people! Can you please drop those ghetto tricks you learned on the streets?” Dad let out a heavy scoff, rapping his knuckles against the mahogany coffee table with a dull thud. “A daughter of Richard Vance, even one who grew up in the system, should carry herself with class. But you? The second you walk through the door, you start drama and bully Chloe. You’ve completely embarrassed the Vance family!” The maids standing off to the side whispered amongst themselves, doing nothing to hide their disdain. “I heard she was just some feral girl from the sticks. Who knew she was this malicious?” “Miss Chloe is so sweet, how could anyone have the heart to bully her?” “Look at her waving her hands around. She’s probably faking being mute just to play the victim and get sympathy.” Their words were like fine needles, piercing my eardrums. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm, and reached for the side pocket of my backpack. My school notebook was in there. I could write down exactly what happened. But just as my fingers brushed the zipper, Connor clamped his hand around my wrist. His grip was brutal; his knuckles practically dug into my bone. “What else are you trying to pull out to trick us?” I struggled, using my free hand to dig into the bag, finally pulling out a stack of loose papers with my notes. But before I could even unfold them, Connor snatched them away. With a violent tear, the stack of papers was reduced to a flurry of white confetti falling around us. The pieces landed in my hair. I stared at him blankly, the last shred of warmth in my heart freezing over. Right on cue, Chloe let out a delicate sob, burying her face deeper into Mom’s chest. “Connor, stop. My sister was just…” “She drove you to depression, and you’re still defending her?” Connor cut her off, his eyes blazing with fury. “Someone this manipulative and toxic doesn’t deserve a place in the Vance family!” Dad’s face darkened completely. He waved a hand at the butler near the door, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. “Throw her out. The Vance family doesn’t have a daughter like this.” Chapter 2 I spent the night curled up on a lumpy mattress at a cheap motel down the street. The next morning, before the homeroom bell even rang, Mr. Harrison called me into his office. When I pushed the door open, Chloe was already sitting in the chair opposite his desk. Her shoulders were heaving, a crumpled tissue in her hand, and her eyes were swollen like walnuts. The second she saw me, she snapped her head up. With a perfectly calibrated look of terror and grievance, she shrank back behind Mr. Harrison’s chair. “Clara, take a seat,” Mr. Harrison said, his voice frigid. “I want you to tell me exactly what you did to Chloe yesterday.” I stood in the doorway, paralyzed. Chloe immediately started sobbing on cue. “Mr. Harrison, please don’t pressure her. Yesterday, she cornered me in the hallway and called me a bastard who stole her nest. She threatened to make my life a living hell until I dropped out of school. I… I’m just so scared.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but every word was articulated perfectly, striking me like a barrage of throwing knives. Mr. Harrison’s expression darkened further. He picked up his desk phone. “I’ve already called your parents. They’ll be here any minute.” A few moments later, the office door swung open. My biological parents walked in. Richard’s face was livid, while Eleanor immediately rushed over to hold Chloe’s hand, her eyes overflowing with heartache. My dad spoke, his voice vibrating with suppressed rage. “Mr. Harrison, what’s going on? Did Clara bully Chloe again?” Mr. Harrison pushed his glasses up his nose, his tone severe. “According to Chloe’s testimony, Clara has repeatedly subjected her to verbal abuse and defamation, even threatening her education.” “This type of behavior is absolutely zero-tolerance at our school.” Richard whipped his head toward me, the disappointment in his eyes threatening to drown me. “How did the Vance family produce a daughter like you?! Are you hellbent on destroying our reputation before you’re satisfied?” I opened my mouth, but only that weak, raspy air escaped. I raised my hands, my fingers just forming the sign for “No,” when Richard slapped me across the face. Smack. The sound was sharp and deafening. My head snapped to the side. My ears rang loudly, and my cheek burned with searing pain. I stared at him in shock, the tears I had been fighting back finally spilling over. “You still have the nerve to cry?!” His voice dripped with unfiltered revulsion. “You do something this horrific and you have the audacity to cry? You’re just putting on a pathetic act for sympathy!” Beside him, Chloe let out another whimper, pressing her face against Eleanor’s chest. “Dad, Mom, stop yelling at her. I don’t blame her.” Eleanor shot me a look of pure disgust. “White trash roots. The only thing she knows how to do is bully our sweet Chloe!” The office door had been left slightly ajar, and a few students were peering in from the hallway. Their whispers drifted clearly into the room. “So she really does bully Chloe…” “She looks so quiet, who knew she was a psycho?” “I heard her biological parents didn’t even want her back. No wonder she’s so toxic.” The gossip pierced my ears. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to ground my emotions. I raised my hands again, slowly signing the words, “I didn’t do it.” But halfway through the motion, Mr. Harrison interrupted me. He frowned, thoroughly annoyed. “Clara, can you please stop using these weird parlor tricks to get attention? If you have something to say, use your words! Stop waving your hands around like a freak!” I froze, my fingers hanging uselessly in the air. So even my silent pleas for justice were just “attention-seeking tricks” to them. Just then, the office door was pushed open a little wider. A girl stood in the doorway, her voice small but steady. “Mr. Harrison, she’s not doing parlor tricks… That’s sign language.” Everyone turned to stare at the girl. It was Mia. She kept her head down, her fingers gripping the hem of her sweater, but she gathered her courage and softly added: “M-my uncle works at the deaf community center. I helped out there over the summer and picked up some ASL. What she just signed was ‘I didn’t do it.’ And… she actually can’t speak.” Chapter 3 The air in the room practically froze. Mia stood in the doorway, her cheeks burning bright red, but she repeated herself, word by word: “I’m not making this up. I learned it from my uncle. She really signed ‘I didn’t do it.’” Mr. Harrison adjusted his glasses, highly skeptical. “Are you sure, Mia? This isn’t something to joke about.” Mia looked up, her eyes determined. “Sign language is structured. I wouldn’t mistake it. Besides… everyone knows Clara has never spoken a single word since she transferred here.” The office went dead silent. Richard and Eleanor’s expressions faltered. Eleanor looked at me, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something. A microscopic flash of guilt crossed her eyes. But in that exact moment, Chloe let out a pathetic, trembling sob. Wiping her tears, she whispered, “Clara, even if you don’t want to admit what you did, you shouldn’t have paid someone to act like you’re actually mute.” Her crying was like a sharp blade, instantly popping the tiny bubble of guilt forming in Eleanor’s chest. Richard’s face immediately darkened again. He glared at me, his fury threatening to incinerate me on the spot. “Clara, you are unbelievable! To escape punishment, you’d actually spin a lie this massive?! You even dragged an accomplice in to put on a show for us! You are rotten to the core!” Trembling, I reached into my uniform pocket and pulled out a neatly folded medical diagnosis. I tried to hold it up for them to see. But the moment the paper left my pocket, Richard snatched it from my hand. Without even glancing at it, he ripped it in half, and then in half again. The thin piece of paper fluttered to the floor in shreds. I stared at him, my tears silently cascading down my cheeks. “Act! Keep acting!” Richard’s voice was filled with pure loathing. “You just need to be disciplined! Since you love pretending to be mute so much, I’m calling the wilderness therapy boot camp. We’re sending you off to the woods for behavioral reform. Let’s see if you can keep faking it when you’re doing hard labor!” Eleanor’s face hardened in agreement. She held Chloe tight, her eyes dripping with contempt. “Clara, we were so wrong about you. To think you’d resort to such cheap, manipulative tactics just to avoid taking responsibility. You are a massive disappointment.” Leaning against Eleanor, the very faintest smirk played on Chloe’s lips, even as she continued to cry beautifully. “Dad, Mom, please don’t be so harsh. Maybe she just made a momentary mistake. She didn’t mean it…” “A momentary mistake?!” Richard sneered. “This is her true nature! Keeping a toxic sociopath like her in our house will only bring ruin to the Vance family! I’m calling Warden Miller from the reform camp right now to come haul her away!” Mr. Harrison stood to the side, looking uncomfortable. He glanced at me, then at my parents, and finally sighed, waving Mia away from the door. “You can go back to class, Mia. We’ll handle this here.” Mia opened her mouth, wanting to argue, but the stern warning in Mr. Harrison’s eyes stopped her. She gave me one last, deeply sympathetic look before turning and walking away. I stood rooted to the spot, looking down at the shredded pieces of my medical record on the floor. Suddenly, I smiled. The innocence I had desperately tried to prove was nothing but a laughable comedy routine in their eyes. I realized then that in this family, my existence meant absolutely nothing. I slowly crouched down and began picking up the torn pieces, one by one. The sharp edges of the paper sliced a tiny cut into my fingertip, but I couldn’t feel the sting. Compared to the agonizing pain in my chest, a papercut was nothing at all. Chapter 4 When the black SUV pulled up in front of the school’s administrative building, the air in the office grew stifling. Two burly men in tactical gray uniforms pushed through the door. They wore the hardened, indifferent expressions of men who dealt with “troubled youth” for a living. Richard immediately stepped forward, greeting them like old friends. “Warden Miller, thanks for making the trip. This girl is pathological and toxic. Keeping her around is a danger to others, so I’m handing her over to your camp for some strict behavioral reform.” The man addressed as Warden Miller glanced at me, a cruel, hardened smirk forming on his lips. “Don’t worry, Mr. Vance. No matter how tough they think they are, they all learn to obey once we get them out in the woods.” Chloe leaned against Eleanor, the triumphant glee in her eyes practically overflowing. She gently tugged on Eleanor’s sleeve, her voice as soft as cotton but laced with poison. “Dad, Mom, don’t be too hard on her. She’s just confused. I’m sure she’ll learn her lesson out at the camp.” Richard scoffed coldly. “She’s rotten to the bone! A place like that is exactly what she needs!” Miller marched over to me, towering above me with an intimidating glare. “So you’re the one? Playing deaf and mute to bully the other kids?” I didn’t speak. I just gripped the hem of my shirt, my fingertips ice cold. Miller’s eyes flashed with impatience. “What, you’re not going to talk? Still acting?” Without warning, he lifted his heavy boot and kicked me brutally in the back of my knee. Caught entirely off guard, I collapsed with a heavy thud. My kneecaps slammed into the unforgiving concrete floor, the pain so blinding my vision went black. “Still want to be stubborn?” Miller grabbed a handful of my hair, violently jerking my head up. “Drop the act!” He slapped me across the face so hard my neck snapped to the side. My ears rang violently, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I was trembling in agony, biting down on my lip so hard to keep from making a sound. But the excruciating pain forced a weak, broken whimper past my throat—a faint, raspy gasp for air. “She made a sound! She really is faking it!” Chloe’s voice pierced the room, shrill and laced with unrestrained excitement. “I knew she was faking being mute to trick us! She’s a liar!” My parents’ expressions turned utterly disgusted. Richard pointed a shaking finger at me, his face purple with rage. “You deceitful little rat! How could the Vance family produce a monster like you?! You are a total disgrace!” Mr. Harrison shook his head, his tone dripping with disappointment. “Clara, you really fooled me. I can’t believe you’d stoop this low to avoid suspension.” The students crowding the doorway began to jeer, their whispers acting like invisible slaps against my already burning cheeks. “So she was faking it!” “She looks so innocent, but she’s actually a complete psycho.” “Ship her off to the woods! It’s what she deserves!” Miller slapped me again, grabbing my arm to drag me out the door. “Let’s go! Let’s see how much you want to act once I get you back to camp!” I squeezed my eyes shut in total despair, the tears finally freely falling down my face. Just then, the office door was kicked open with explosive force. Everyone froze. A man in a pristine, four-star military uniform stood in the doorway. The stars on his shoulders glinted coldly under the fluorescent lights. He was tall, imposing, and radiated an aura of suffocating authority. His gaze swept across every single person in the room, finally landing on me. The heartbreak in his eyes was palpable. When he spoke, his voice was a low, lethal growl. “My daughter simply cannot speak, and you animals dare to humiliate her like this?” Chapter 5 The moment the man spoke, the oxygen seemed to vanish from the room. The raging fury on Richard’s face froze, replaced instantly by a look I had never seen him wear before. It was a mixture of absolute terror and pathetic, groveling submission. “G-General Sterling…” Miller, who was still gripping my hair, released me as if he’d been burned. He stumbled backward, the indifferent cruelty he usually wore cracking wide open. Without his grip holding me up, my shattered knees gave out, and I pitched forward. A second before I hit the ground, a pair of strong hands caught me. The General’s uniform smelled of clean soap and crisp pine—a scent that completely clashed with the toxicity and judgment of this office. He knelt down to my eye level, his gaze sweeping from my bruised, swollen cheek to the blood leaking from the corner of my mouth. The storm of emotions in his eyes was complex, but I recognized the primary one instantly. It was pure, devastating heartbreak. “Clara,” he said, his voice so gentle it sounded like he was afraid of breaking me. “Dad is late.” Dad. The word fell like a boulder into a stagnant pond. The shockwaves obliterated the emotional dams I had spent eighteen years building. I stared at him. A thousand words clogged my throat, but not a single one could make it past my ruined vocal cords. The tears in my eyes finally broke free, falling in heavy drops onto the back of the hand he was using to support my arm. Chloe’s face turned paper-white. She shot up from Eleanor’s embrace so fast her fingernails scratched Eleanor’s hand. But Eleanor didn’t even notice. She was just staring, paralyzed, at the man in the doorway. “G-General…” Chloe’s voice cracked, sounding shrill and terrified. “How is that possible? How could you be her…” She didn’t finish the sentence. Because Arthur Sterling looked at her. His gaze was completely devoid of emotion, like he was looking at a corpse. Chloe’s voice died in her throat. She froze in place. Arthur looked away. He looked down and, with agonizing care, helped me stand up from the floor. My knees were shaking violently, so he firmly wrapped an arm around my waist. His hold was gentle, terrified of hurting me, yet immovable. Then he turned to face the room of petrified people. His voice was slow and measured, yet coated in ice. Every syllable nailed them to the floor. “Eighteen years ago, my wife died in a flash flood while doing charity work in a rural town. Clara’s adoptive mother saved my daughter from the river, but lost her own life in the process. “Clara is the daughter of a fallen hero, and she is the daughter I, Arthur Sterling, have raised for eighteen years. In her entire life, I have never let her suffer a single injustice.” He paused. “I was genuinely happy when she found her biological family. But I never imagined her biological parents would treat her like a stray dog.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and slammed it down onto the desk right in front of Richard. It was a medical diagnosis from eighteen years ago. The paper was yellowed, the edges worn from time. But the ink was crystal clear. Patient: Clara Sterling Diagnosis: Organic structural damage to the vocal cords. Prognosis: Permanent, lifelong speech impairment. The office was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Richard stared at the paper. The color drained from his face like the tide rolling out. Eleanor’s jaw went slack, a few broken gasps escaping her lips. Mr. Harrison’s glasses began to slide down his sweaty nose. He fumbled to catch them and nearly knocked over his coffee mug. And Chloe. She bit down on her lower lip so hard it turned white. She looked at the diagnosis, then at the protective way the General stood beside me, and finally at the horrified faces of everyone in the room. The panic in her eyes finally burst through the dam. Arthur didn’t miss the terror in Chloe’s eyes. A cold sneer touched his lips as he continued smoothly: “Last night, Clara didn’t come home to the Sterling estate.” “I assumed she was happily reuniting with her biological family.” “And yet? This morning, I received a call from Military Command regarding a disturbance.” Richard’s Adam’s apple bobbed aggressively. His voice sounded like sandpaper on glass. “General Sterling, I… I had no idea! I thought she was…” “You thought she was pretending to be mute to play the victim.” Arthur finished the sentence for him. Richard choked, unable to form another word. Arthur’s piercing gaze locked onto his face. “You tore up her medical records.” His tone didn’t rise. He didn’t yell. But the terrifying calm of a four-star general pinned Richard in place. He looked like he forgot how to breathe. “In front of a dozen people, you slapped her in the face, called her a liar, and hired a thug to drag her through the dirt.” “When she was forced to her knees, you watched.” “When she was being beaten, you watched.” “When she was trembling in excruciating pain but physically couldn’t scream—” Arthur paused. “You. Just. Watched.” “The Vance family truly has impeccable morals. Beating your own flesh and blood, while coddling an imposter.” Richard’s legs gave out, and he stumbled a half-step backward. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but it was like someone had stuffed his throat with cotton. Eleanor—the woman who had been showering Chloe with motherly affection—finally snapped out of her shock. She shoved Chloe away. The motion was so violent and abrupt that Chloe lost her balance and hit her head against the edge of the desk with a dull thud. But Eleanor didn’t even glance down at her. She stumbled two steps toward me, then stopped, as if terrified to get any closer. Her voice was choked with sobs, her eyes bloodshot. “Clara… Mom didn’t know… I really didn’t know…” She reached out a trembling hand, trying to touch my wrist. I didn’t dodge. I just looked down, staring blankly at her perfectly manicured hand. Yesterday, this was the exact same hand that patted Chloe’s back, comforting her, cooing, “Our poor Chloe has suffered so much.” Yesterday, this was the exact same hand that pointed at my face and called me “white trash.” I gently pulled my wrist away and took a half-step behind Arthur. Eleanor’s hand froze in mid-air. It was as if all the strength had been siphoned from her body. She swayed, gripping the edge of the desk just to stay upright. Watching me retreat, the light in her eyes died completely. Her lips trembled violently, but no sound came out. Chloe clutched her bruised forehead, kneeling on the floor. Her voice was so shrill it bordered on hysterical. “General Sterling, I didn’t know! I swear I didn’t know she was your…” She choked. She didn’t know what to call me. Yesterday, I was the unwanted feral child of the Vance family. Today, I was the beloved, spoiled daughter of a four-star general. Tears smeared her makeup into a pathetic mess. She was shaking uncontrollably. “She started it! She targeted me first at school! She went around telling everyone I cheated to get second place, and that my dad bribed the admissions board…” “Spreading rumors.” Arthur suddenly repeated the phrase. “Fascinating. In what universe does a child with permanently severed vocal cords go around spreading rumors?” He didn’t even look at Chloe. He simply turned his head and gave an order to the military aide standing at attention behind him. “Play it.” “Yes, sir.” The aide stepped forward. He opened his briefcase, pulled out a stack of documents, and set a portable cassette player on the desk. He hit play. The tape hissed with static, and then a clear voice echoed in the room. It was a recording from an afternoon two months ago. Chloe’s voice floated out, crisp, sweet, and laced with perfectly manufactured concern. “Did you guys know? The new transfer student, Clara, grew up in the foster system. I heard her biological parents threw her out because she was bad luck.” “I don’t know how she scammed her way into the Vance family, but you guys should stay away from her. People like her are usually thieves. I heard her last foster family returned her because she kept stealing.” “It’s only because my parents are so charitable that they took pity on her and brought her in.” The recording kept playing. Sentence after sentence of Chloe’s lies echoed through the dead-silent office. Mr. Harrison stood with his mouth open, his glasses slipping off his face. Chloe’s face went entirely devoid of blood. The military aide professionally continued his report: “General Sterling, these materials were provided by the school’s disciplinary committee. According to the investigation, since Clara transferred here, Chloe Vance has repeatedly spread false rumors among the student body to destroy Clara’s reputation.” His voice carried zero emotion, reading it like a battlefield casualty report. “Furthermore, according to Clara’s previous homeroom teacher, Chloe used her status as the Vance family heiress to privately request that Clara be seated in the back row, falsely claiming Clara had a history of violent psychiatric episodes.” “This semester alone, Chloe ordered three classmates to go through Clara’s backpack, steal her class notes, and shred them, later telling everyone Clara was just careless and lost them.” “Additionally, Chloe anonymously wrote over a dozen derogatory slurs about Clara on the classroom chalkboard—” “Shut up!” Chloe suddenly shrieked. Her voice was like shattered glass scraping against metal. Her entire body convulsed. Her tear-streaked face looked feral, like a beautiful butterfly that had been stomped into the mud. “I did it! I did all of it! So what?!” She used the desk to drag herself to her feet, her legs shaking like jelly. She locked eyes with me, her gaze dripping with venom. “Clara, are you happy now?” She took a shaky step toward me. “You’re the General’s daughter! You’re so lucky! You were lost for eighteen years, but you still had someone treating you like royalty! But what about me?!” Her voice cracked, echoing loudly off the walls. “I was brought into the Vance family when I was three! I spent every single day walking on eggshells, terrified that if I wasn’t perfect, they’d send me back to the orphanage! Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up every morning terrified of being abandoned?!” She aggressively pointed at Richard and Eleanor. “And them?! They kept me as a trophy! They played the perfect loving parents in front of the cameras, but behind closed doors, who actually cared about me?!” “When they found you, they pretended they were so excited to bring you home to a life of luxury. But before you even arrived, they didn’t even bother setting up a bedroom for you!” She sobbed, laughing hysterically, her voice hoarse and broken. “Clara, do you hate me?” I stayed silent for a long time. Then, I raised my hands and signed. No one in the room understood it. Arthur translated for me, his voice calm and steady: “She says, she doesn’t hate you.” “Hating you takes energy. She needs to save her energy to live her own life.” Chloe froze. She stared at me, a violent storm of emotions swirling in her eyes—emotions I couldn’t even begin to decipher. They surged like a tidal wave, then slowly receded, leaving behind nothing but an empty, hollow abyss. She didn’t say another word. Arthur gently took my hand and led me toward the door. As we passed Richard, my footsteps faltered. Like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline, Richard shot his head up, his voice ruined. “Clara, Dad… Dad really didn’t know! If I had known you were General Sterling’s daughter, I…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Because he saw my eyes. My gaze was dead calm. As still as a stagnant pool of water. How hilarious. My biological father’s regret wasn’t because he hurt his child; it was because my adoptive father had too much power. I slowly raised my hands and signed a single phrase. Richard frantically looked at Arthur. “What did she say? What did she say?!” Arthur didn’t translate immediately. He looked down at me, as if confirming it was what I wanted. I gave a tiny nod. Arthur looked up, his tone apathetic. “She says, the day she walked into your foyer, she made the exact same hand sign.” Richard froze. “She was saying—” Arthur enunciated every syllable clearly, “—I didn’t do it.” Richard looked as if he’d been struck by lightning, paralyzed on the spot. That day, when I stood in the Vance family’s foyer, I saw how fiercely they loved Chloe. I saw them lovingly peeling fruit and feeding it to her. I had harbored a secret, desperate hope that my biological parents were good, loving people. But the moment I walked in, their glares hit me like physical slaps, making me feel utterly worthless. When Chloe accused me of spreading rumors, I had desperately signed that exact same phrase. Back then, they couldn’t be bothered to look. They just assumed I was putting on an act. Now, they couldn’t understand the signs, yet they were begging someone to translate for them. How ironic. I looked away and followed Arthur out the door.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “396444”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

At my brother-in-law’s wedding reception, my new sister-in-law suddenly went on the offensive, targeting me in front of everyone. “Chloé, it’s absolutely shameful how you and Liam have taken over Mom and Dad’s retirement estate since you got married. On top of that, you’ve monopolized their Maybach! It’s disgusting.” “Today, with all our friends and family present, I’m calling for a formal separation of the family assets. We’re going to make sure you can’t leech off Liam’s parents anymore!” The room erupted into hushed whispers among the relatives. My in-laws looked beyond mortified, shifting uncomfortably in their seats. I took a slow, calm sip of my wine, then nodded with a smile. “Divide the assets? honestly, I’d love nothing more.” It seems this incredibly self-righteous new sister-in-law of mine doesn’t actually know who pulls the strings in this family. The sprawling estate, the black Maybach, and even that glittering, publicly traded company they all rely on… The actual owner is me. 1. The once-boisterous reception hall fell instantly silent. Up on the stage, Tiffany didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing me fly into a rage. Instead, her own expression soured. Ignoring Liam’s brother, Caleb, who was frantically trying to pull her back, she gripped the microphone tightly and continued her public shaming. “Chloé Vance, I actually admire the sheer thickness of your skin.” “We’re both daughters-in-law married into the Miller family. Do you really think nobody sees what you’re up to? Don’t think you can just nod this away and pretend it’s over!” She turned to the crowd, pointing a trembling, righteous finger at me. “None of you know just how awful my sister-in-law is. She lives in my in-laws’ house but insists on occupying the master suite. She doesn’t lift a finger, expects to be waited on hand and foot. My mother-in-law kindly tried to tidy up the trash in Chloé’s study last week, and Chloé didn’t just show ingratitude—she screamed at her until my mother-in-law was in tears!” “And last month, when my father-in-law slipped at home and sprained his ankle, she didn’t care at all. She actually drove off in the family Maybach, leaving him writhing on the floor in pain!” “It’s the same story at ApexTech. That’s clearly a Miller family business, yet she has the nerve to squat on the title of Executive Vice President. She shows up late, leaves early, and spends her time at her desk doing her makeup, eating snacks, and binge-watching shows. All she does is order her sister-in-law around!” Tiffany glared at me, then looked down at my husband, Liam, who was sitting beside me. “Liam, you need to say something today. Are you really just going to sit there while your wife rides roughshod over the entire family?” Instantly, every eye in the room focused on Liam Miller. Even I looked at him, genuinely curious to see how he would respond. When we first got married five years ago, the Miller family was practically destitute. Liam was the only saving grace, an Ivy League graduate. His younger brother, Caleb, and sister, Mia, had both dropped out of high school to work in factories. His parents did grueling manual labor on construction sites. Their combined annual family income back then wouldn’t have been enough to buy my cheapest pair of shoes. In the five years since our wedding, I didn’t just buy them a mansion and luxury cars; I fully funded and founded ApexTech. I taught them how to do business from scratch, using my money and my connections to land their first clients. No one else in that room knew the truth, but every single person in the Miller family knew exactly how they got where they were. Under the weight of countless scorching stares, Liam’s face darkened. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his wine glass. After a few excruciating seconds, as if making a monumental decision, he turned to face me. “Chloé, Tiffany isn’t lying. You really were in the wrong for those things.” “As the eldest sister-in-law, you should have set an example. You should have shown respect to my parents.” “Today, in front of everyone, I want you to stand up, pour a glass of wine for Mom, Dad, and Mia, and give them a proper apology. We’ll let this go once you do.” My gaze icy cold. The smile completely vanished from my face. These words might have sounded like he was trying to smooth things over, but in reality, he was confirming every single one of Tiffany’s accusations. He was branding me a sinner in public, forcing me to confess on the spot. But Liam seemed to have forgotten the night we got married. He had knelt before me, crying, saying I was the savior of his entire family. He swore that even if it cost him his life, he would never let me suffer a single moment of grievance. The promises were still ringing in my ears, but the man was unrecognizable. I turned my head, my eyes slowly scanning my parents-in-law, Mia, and then Caleb up on the stage. That time Tiffany claimed I made my mother-in-law cry? It was because she ignored my explicit, repeated warnings never to enter my study. She snuck in while I was out under the guise of “cleaning” and threw away the original, signed copy of a multi-billion dollar international merger contract, thinking it was scrap paper. Yes, I used harsh words then. And the sprained ankle incident? I had immediately canceled a meeting with a major client to call a high-end private ambulance. I didn’t drive away until I saw my father-in-law safely inside the ambulance and on his way to the hospital. As for Mia, if I hadn’t stepped in, her money-grubbing parents would have practically sold her off in an arranged marriage to a rich, older widower back in their hometown. I treated her like my own sister. I paid for her to go to a top tier business school abroad to broaden her horizons, and when she started working, I kept her by my side, teaching her everything I knew about running and managing a company. Even Caleb—every luxury sports car he owned, his racing gear, the house and car he bought for Tiffany, the massive dowry, and the entire cost of this wedding reception—it was all my money. Yet now, faced with this “sinner” label being slapped on me, every single one of them avoided my eyes. Not one person intended to speak up for me. I felt a chilling sense of ridicule. I looked at Liam, who was silently urging me to submit, and just curled my lip. “You want me to apologize? In your dreams.” “I haven’t done anything wrong, so I’m not apologizing to anyone.” 2 Liam didn’t expect that I, who always protected his ego in public, would completely humiliate him like this. His face went totally black. “Chloé, this is a major day for the Miller family.” “For the sake of our years as husband and wife, don’t be so immature. Show some class.” Hearing his lowered, threatening tone, I actually laughed out loud. When we were dating, no matter how wild or impulsive I was, Liam accepted it all. He used to adore my stubborn streak, saying he loved how passionate and unyielding I was, like bright sunshine. But now, simply because I refused to take the blame for things I didn’t do, I was labeled “immature.” Looking at this man I had loved for nearly ten years, I realized for the first time just how hypocritical and selfish he was. He was frighteningly cold-hearted. “Show some class? Liam, who do you think provides the Miller family with the ‘class’ you have now?” Before I could finish, Liam interrupted me with an icy tone. “Enough, Chloé Vance. It seems I’ve spoiled you too much!” “I am announcing, as of this moment, that we are formally separating from my parents’ household!” “In the future, that retirement estate and the cars belong to them. You are not allowed to use them without explicit permission!” “As for ApexTech, you will surrender all the stock shares under your name. We are doing a clean break!” The mask was finally off. Only now, with the dagger pointed at me, did I understand the true purpose of this ambush. They wanted to seize the thirty percent of ApexTech’s original founders’ shares that I held. When Liam said those words, a look of cold, calculating greed flashed in the eyes of every single member of the Miller family. It was the primal, ferocious instinct of a pack of animals hunting together. Even though their prey was the very person who had dragged them out of poverty and completely changed their lives. In the second I recognized this, the last remaining shred of expectation and warmth I held for this family was extinguished. Ten years of devotion, five years of marriage. If I had fed my heart to dogs, it would have been more rewarding than this. “Liam Miller, have you really thought this through?” I turned my gaze squarely on him. Perhaps because he had never seen me look so cold and indifferent, Liam’s eyes flickered with a moment of uncertainty before he nodded firmly. “It doesn’t matter if you agree. As the eldest son of the Miller family, the actual legal representative, and the CEO of ApexTech, I have the right to dispose of your shares according to the initial stock agreement.” “Take the buyout money and walk away. This is the most dignified exit you’re going to get.” “Otherwise, you will end up with nothing.” As he spoke, he gestured to his secretary downstage. The secretary immediately brought up a document and handed it to me. Back when I helped the Miller family start ApexTech, I was fully aware of the small loop-hole in the stock agreement—it was enough for Liam to kick me out at any time. But back then, I believed love was worth more than gold. I didn’t believe the day would ever come when my partner would pick up a weapon against me for profit. I see now how naive I was. According to the document, all the equity I held in ApexTech was to be transferred unconditionally to be shared among the three Miller siblings: Liam, Caleb, and Mia. Furthermore, the estate registered in my name and the Maybach were all to be unconditionally “gifted” to Liam’s parents. The clauses even stated that I voluntarily waived all rights to any future claims and would not interfere in any way, shape, or form with any Miller family affairs, including the management of the company. I really hadn’t expected them to have prepared all this. It meant Tiffany’s sudden attack wasn’t a spontaneous whim at all; it was a carefully calculated plot they had all agreed upon. Perhaps for a very long time, they had been plotting how to legitimately steal everything in my hands. 3 After flipping through the last page, I put the document back on the table and looked up, scanning the faces of the people in front of me. “Have you all thought this through? Are you sure you want me to sign this?” My mother-in-law was the first to speak. “Chloé, this is how it should have been. The Miller family didn’t marry you so you could hoard the family assets.” “Just sign it, and we can still be one big, happy family in the future. Wouldn’t that be nice?” My father-in-law nodded, coughing once before adding, “Yes, we shouldn’t keep secrets from each other in a family. These things should have belonged to the Miller family from the start. Give them back, and you’ll still be our eldest daughter-in-law. No one will think ill of you.” Mia kept her head down, muttering softly, “Sister-in-law, just sign it. You’re so rich; these things are nothing to you.” “But they are different for us. We need this.” Caleb rushed to chime in, “Exactly, Chloé. You have your own massive family business; why do you care about this small stake? Just think of it as helping us out. We’ll definitely remember your kindness.” Tiffany scoffed next to him, crossing her arms and looking at me disdainfully. “You hear them, right? The whole family says so. Stop putting on an act and sign the damn paper.” “Don’t ruin our wedding reception and spoil everyone’s mood.” Finally, my gaze fell back on Liam. He looked at me, his tone softening slightly, as if he were coaxing a child, yet delivering an ultimatum. “Chloé, sign it. We’ve been married for so many years; don’t we have at least this much trust?” “If you really love me, sign this to prove to me that you didn’t stay with me just for the Miller family’s money.” When I heard that sentence, I finally couldn’t hold it back. I burst into laughter. Apparently, loving someone meant handing over my entire net worth to their family, letting them take whatever they wanted, and still being accused of only wanting them for their money. I laughed for a long time before stopping. I looked at Liam. “Liam, these things are indeed worthless to me.” “But are you sure you can handle them?” Liam’s face instantly darkened. He thought I was provoking him, that I was looking down on them. “Chloé Vance, what is that supposed to mean? I’m the one who runs ApexTech. I’ve been handling all the company’s business operations these past few years. Without you, we can still make this company thrive. Don’t think too highly of yourself.” “Fine.” I nodded and picked up the pen to sign my name. As I finished the last stroke, I threw the pen back onto the table and pushed the signed document forward. Tiffany was the first to pounce on it. She picked up the file and flipped through it, her face filled with excitement. She quickly handed the document to Caleb, telling him to put it away safely, as if she were afraid I would regret it. The tension on Liam’s face finally relaxed slightly, and a look of unreadable emotion appeared in his eyes as he looked at me. I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I simply said in a cold voice, “Liam, I’ve signed it. I’ve given you everything you wanted.” “From this day forward, nothing concerning the Miller family has anything to do with Chloé Vance.” With that, I turned around and walked straight toward the exit of the reception hall. Sitting in my car, I took out my phone and called my father’s special assistant, Mr. Henderson. “Mr. Henderson, as of this exact moment, ApexTech has absolutely nothing to do with me.” “Withdraw every single resource associated with the Vance family immediately.” “Within one month, I want this supposed commercial ‘miracle’ to become nothing more than a permanent joke.” Mr. Henderson was stunned for a second, but without asking a single question, he immediately responded with cool professionalism. “Understood, Miss Vance. I will see to it immediately.” I hung up the phone and leaned back against the seat, looking at the imposing ApexTech tower across from the hotel. I curled my lip in a smile. Let the wildfire that is about to destroy everything burn as brightly as possible. 4 The very next morning, Liam had barely sat in the CEO’s chair, not yet having the chance to fully savor the feeling of absolute power, when the building’s property manager pushed the door open and handed him a new rent notice. Liam looked at the number on it, and his face instantly turned pale. “What is the meaning of this? Wasn’t the previous rent two hundred thousand a month? Why has it suddenly jumped to eight hundred thousand? This is highway robbery!” The head of property management crossed his arms, his tone flat. “Mr. Miller, you can’t say that.” “Your previous VP, Mrs. Vance, has a close personal relationship with our owner. That’s why we were giving you the friends-and-family rate. Now that she has been removed from your management team, we naturally have to adjust to the market rate.” “Other comparable office buildings in this area go for this price. We aren’t asking for a penny more.” Liam froze in place, utterly speechless. The property manager looked at him and added one more thing: “Oh, and my boss said, either you pay one full year’s rent upfront at the new rate, or you move out by the end of this month.” “The choice is yours.” With that, the property manager turned and left. Caleb and the others rushed in as soon as they heard the news. “Liam, eight hundred thousand a month! That’s nine point six million a year! Where are we supposed to get that kind of money?” Caleb’s voice was shaking. Tiffany, however, was very calm. She had been the star of the show at the wedding reception yesterday, and today she had specially dressed up to come to the company as the legitimate second Mrs. Miller. She took the notice and glanced at it, then scoffed, throwing the paper back on the desk. “I thought it was some massive catastrophe. It’s just a rent increase. What are you panicking for?” “Eight hundred thousand is eight hundred thousand. We are the owners of the company now; we can’t come up with this small amount? Isn’t it just over nine million a year?” “We’ll make that back easily with one big contract. It’s no big deal. We’ll accept the increase; it’s just rent, we can afford it.” As soon as she said this, Caleb and Mia seemed to find their backbone again and nodded. “Yeah, Tiffany makes sense. It’s just a rent hike. We own the company now; why are we afraid of this small amount of money?” “Exactly. The company made so much money every year before; this rent is nothing.” Liam also breathed a sigh of relief, thinking Tiffany was right. Before he could fully relax, Caleb’s phone rang urgently. Caleb listened for only two seconds before his face went entirely pale. His legs actually buckled, and he fell to the floor. “Liam! It’s a disaster! Something major happened with the supply chain!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “396443”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

During the holidays, my e-bike suddenly exploded. It torched my neighbor’s Maybach and killed a grandfather and his young grandson who happened to be walking by. My entire family drained their savings to compensate the victims, saddling us with millions in debt. For twenty years, I was cursed and spat on by the victims’ families. I worked eight jobs a day just to pay off the money. The very night I finally cleared the debt, I collapsed and died of extreme overwork. But right before I closed my eyes, I heard my parents laughing outside my door: “Actually, that Maybach didn’t even burn. And that old man and his grandson? They faked their deaths. This idiot actually believed it and worked himself to the bone!” “What else were we supposed to do? If Chloe wanted a glamorous wedding, we needed cash! As an adopted son we took in from the streets, this was his only use.” It turned out my entire twenty years of suffering was nothing but a sick joke. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the explosion. This time, I rode the e-bike away early in the morning and sank it to the bottom of the reservoir behind the hills. Without the bike, let’s see how you put on this little show! But at 3:00 PM, the explosion still happened. …… The sunflower seeds in my hand scattered across the floor. I froze in place. Impossible. I had clearly sunk the e-bike into the reservoir. How could it possibly explode? I rushed out the door. Thick black smoke and roaring flames billowed from the entrance of our neighborhood. Neighbors were screaming and sprinting toward the commotion. I followed right behind them. My legs felt like jelly; my heart hammered fiercely against my ribs. The scene was even more gruesome than in my previous life. That Maybach was genuinely burning, letting out terrifying crackling and popping sounds. Next to the car, two charred bodies lay motionless on the asphalt, completely unrecognizable. “Call 911!” “Whose e-bike is this?! Why was it plugged in here?!” “I think it’s Carter’s! I saw him pushing it this morning!” Everyone turned to look at me in unison. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. This was impossible. My e-bike was at the bottom of the reservoir. How could it be here? And how could it explode? “Carter Hayes! Is this your e-bike?!” Mr. Sterling crawled out of the Maybach, his face covered in blood, screaming at me hysterically. “I’ll kill you! This is my brand-new Maybach! Half a million dollars! You’re paying me back every cent!” I backed away, my mind completely blank. The explosion in my past life had been faked. How did it become real this time? And my e-bike… I had thrown it into the water myself. Why was it here? “It wasn’t me…” I muttered to myself. “My e-bike isn’t here…” “Still trying to lie?!” Old man Jenkins pointed right at my nose. “I saw you pushing that e-bike out this morning with my own eyes! If it wasn’t you, who was it?” “Exactly! Around here, who else has a bright red e-bike?” “Murderer! You’ll pay for this with your life!” The crowd swarmed me, shoving and cursing. The sheer hatred threatened to drown me, making it far more terrifying than my past life. Because in my past life, at least I knew it was all a staged lie. But now, two real people had died right in front of me, and the Maybach was genuinely burning to a crisp. “Carter, what is going on?!” My parents and sister squeezed through the aggressive crowd. My dad, Robert, was livid. My mom, Brenda, just plopped onto the ground, slapping her thighs and wailing at the top of her lungs. “Oh, dear God! What are we going to do?! Our family is going to be ruined!” My sister, Chloe, and her boyfriend stood off to the side, their eyes darting nervously, refusing to look at me. It was the exact same scene from my previous life. But this time, the explosion was real, and the deaths were real. Didn’t they know? “Brother, is it really your e-bike?” Chloe walked over, lowering her voice. “Didn’t you take it to town for repairs this morning? How did it end up here?” I stared dead into her eyes, trying to find a crack in her facade, but all I saw was genuine panic. “This isn’t my bike!” I said through gritted teeth. “I sank mine into the reservoir!” “What?” Chloe’s eyes widened. “Carter, what are you talking about? Are you in shock?” “I’m not crazy! I pushed it to the reservoir at 6:00 AM, tied rocks to it, and sank it! The bike that exploded isn’t mine!” The crowd went dead silent for a second before erupting into an even louder uproar. “This kid has lost his mind. What nonsense is he spouting?” “Sank it in the reservoir? He’s just trying to dodge responsibility!” “Arrest him! Let the cops take him away!” My dad lunged forward and slapped me brutally across the face. “You bastard! You still dare to lie?! Those are two human lives!” I covered my cheek, tasting the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. This slap hurt just as much as it did in my previous life. But in my past life, I thought he was genuinely furious and devastated. I only learned later that it was all an act—a performance to make the guilt crush me so I would willingly become their cash cow. But this time, the explosion was real. If they really planned all of this, then what was the deal with the two dead bodies and the burning Maybach? The police arrived quickly and cordoned off the scene. I was pulled aside to give a statement, my entire body feeling numb. “Name?” “Carter Hayes.” “Is that e-bike yours?” “No.” I lifted my head, my eyes firm. “My e-bike is in the reservoir. I sank it there myself this morning. The bike that exploded looks like mine, but it’s not.” The officer frowned. “Mr. Hayes, we have eyewitnesses placing you with the bike this morning. Furthermore, we found the remnants of your license plate at the epicenter of the blast.” “Impossible!” I shot up from my chair. “My plate is a custom vanity plate—’LUCKY-8′. Chloe got it for me for good luck. What plate did you find?” The officer glanced down at his notepad. “‘LUCKY-8’.” I felt like I had been struck by lightning. I slumped back into the chair. This was impossible. My e-bike was in the water. How could my license plate be at the explosion site? Did someone fish my e-bike out of the water? But when? I sank it at 6:00 AM, and it exploded at 3:00 PM. Who could have dragged an e-bike out of a deep reservoir and brought it back to the neighborhood in such a short window of time? And why would they do that? “I need to go to the reservoir.” I grabbed the officer’s arm. “Take me to the hills. My e-bike is down there. Send divers down, you will definitely find it!” The officers exchanged a look. Seeing how desperate and agitated I was, they finally agreed. The banks of the reservoir were soon crowded with nosy onlookers. Two police divers stripped off their heavy gear and plunged into the freezing water. I paced anxiously on the shore, my hands balled into tight fists. As long as they pulled that e-bike out, I could prove my innocence. The one that exploded was a fake. Someone had intentionally framed me. “Got something!” A diver broke the surface, holding a piece of debris. My heart leaped into my throat. It was a piece of red plastic—definitely from an e-bike. “Is there more down there?! What about the rest of the bike?!” I yelled. The diver went back under. A few minutes later, he resurfaced and shook his head. “There’s nothing else down here. Just this fragment and some heavy rocks with cut ropes.” “Impossible!” I screamed. “I sank the whole bike! I tied four massive rocks to it! How could it be gone?!” “Mr. Hayes, are you absolutely sure you sank the bike here?” The officer climbed ashore, his face stern. “There’s no vehicle at the bottom. Just this fragment. And based on our preliminary checks, the VIN numbers recovered from the blast site match your registration perfectly.” “I don’t know what’s going on…” I clutched my head, my mind spinning into chaos. I remembered it so vividly. I pushed the bike here, tied the rocks, and watched it sink. But now, the bike was gone, leaving only a single fragment. Did I remember wrong? Did I not actually sink it? Did I just push it to the neighborhood entrance in a daze? No, impossible. I remembered the biting cold of the morning frost. I remembered the heavy strain of lifting the rocks. I remembered the bubbles bursting on the surface as the bike went under. Those memories were too real to be fake. “Carter, just stop making excuses.” My mom cried out from the crowd. “Murder demands a life, debt demands money. That’s the law of the world. Our family might be poor, but we can’t do something this evil and run away from it!” “Yeah, if you did the crime, do the time!” “He looked like such an honest kid. Who knew his heart was this black?” The curses from the crowd felt like knives stabbing into my skin. I looked around. Every face was so familiar, yet so completely alien. In my past life, they cursed me exactly like this. For twenty years. But before I died last time, I learned the truth. I knew I was innocent. This time, even I was starting to doubt myself. Did I really sink the bike? “I want to see the security footage.” I suddenly said. “There’s a camera at the neighborhood entrance. Check if I pushed the bike there!” The officer nodded. “We already checked. Unfortunately, the camera at the entrance was vandalized yesterday. It hasn’t been fixed.” My heart sank. “What… what about the other cameras nearby?” “We checked. You were caught on camera at 6:00 AM pushing the bike out of the neighborhood, but no other cameras picked you up after that.” “What about the path to the reservoir? Any cameras in the hills?” The officer shook his head. “It’s undeveloped land. No cameras.” I was drowning in despair. No cameras to prove I went to the reservoir. No bike at the bottom to prove my innocence. Everyone was pointing fingers at me, and my own mind was betraying me. Did I really cause the explosion? “Brother, don’t be like this.” Chloe walked over, a look of deep concern plastered on her face. “Even if it was an accident, we won’t blame you. We’re a family, we’ll shoulder the burden together.” She reached out, trying to help me up. Looking at her hypocritical face, a wave of nausea washed over me. In my past life, she said the exact same words. “Brother, we’ll shoulder it together.” Yet the only one carrying the burden was me. The only one enjoying the fruits of my labor was her. “Get away from me.” I slapped her hand away. “I don’t need your fake sympathy.” Chloe’s face fell, immediately shifting into a mask of pure victimization. “Carter, I know you’re under a lot of stress, but how can you treat me like this…” “Enough!” My dad, Robert, charged forward and kicked me hard in the shoulder. “You ungrateful wretch! You make a fatal mistake and then take your temper out on your sister! You’ve lost your damn mind!” I crashed to the ground, my shoulder burning in agony. My mom lunged at me, pinching and scratching. “I’ll beat you to death, you curse! You killed two people and now you want to drag our whole family down! Why didn’t you just die?!” I curled up on the dirt, letting them hit me. In my past life, they pinned all the blame on me and played the perfect victims. But back then, I eventually knew it was all a staged act. This time, I didn’t know anything anymore. If they really didn’t know the truth, if the explosion was truly an accident, then their anger right now was genuine. And I was the monster who killed two innocent people and torched a luxury car. “Break it up!” An officer pulled my parents away. “The investigation is still ongoing. You can’t assault him.” “What else is there to investigate?! He did it!” Brenda wailed. “What sin did the Hayes family commit to pick up this jinx off the streets?! We should have let him freeze to death!” I was taken back to the neighborhood and locked inside our living room. Late at night, I huddled in the corner, my brain a chaotic mess. Were the memories of my past life real? Was the memory of my parents conspiring against me a delusion? If they were innocent, what the hell were those twenty years of suffering? I felt dizzy. Was I actually losing my mind? Were all my memories just hallucinations? Around midnight, I snuck out through the window. I wanted to go back to the reservoir to see if I could find any clues. But to my shock, when I reached the banks of the reservoir, I saw my parents and sister standing there in the dark. Their voices were kept low, but I could still make out fragments of their conversation. “What do we do? The plan changed? Did he actually sink the bike?” “If he really sank it, then whose bike exploded?” “It doesn’t matter. It blew up, so we just stick to the original plan…” “But what about those two dead bodies? They’re actually dead, but they aren’t the actors we hired…” “Who did it?” “I don’t know, but it works out perfectly. Saves us the money we were going to pay the actors.” My blood ran freezing cold. It felt like I had plunged into an ice bath. They really did have a plan. The explosion, the deaths, the debt in my past life—they had orchestrated all of it. But this time, the explosion and the deaths became chillingly real, completely exceeding their expectations. And yet, they still wanted to proceed with the plan. They still wanted to make me the scapegoat to ruin my life! “What about the bike in the water?” It was Chloe’s voice. “Why is it missing?” “I don’t know. Is it possible he just remembered wrong and never actually sank it?” “No, I checked the ice this morning. There was a fresh hole. Something heavy definitely went down there.” “Then what happened? Did the bike sprout legs and run away?” “Who cares? It’s a dead end anyway. Nobody will believe a word he says. We just insist it was his bike and make him pay for it.” “But those are two real lives. Will he go to prison?” “No prison, just massive debt. We’ll pretend to help him out so he feels overwhelmingly grateful, then we send him out to work eight jobs a day. Just like we planned. He’ll be our blood bag!” I knew it! The voices I heard before I died in my past life weren’t a hallucination! This was their master plan all along! But if all of this was true, where the hell did the e-bike I sank into the reservoir go? My parents didn’t know. My sister didn’t know. They just wanted to exploit the situation and drain me dry. But I needed to find that e-bike to clear my name! Just then, a memory hit me like a freight train. When I bought the e-bike, I didn’t have enough cash, so I bought it on a payment plan from a shady dealership in town. The dealer had secretly installed a hidden GPS tracker inside the chassis, telling me he wouldn’t remove it until the debt was paid in full. Thinking of this, I sprinted through the night all the way to town and banged on the dealer’s door. I begged him to check the bike’s location on his computer. When the map loaded, I felt like I had been struck by lightning. I finally understood where the e-bike I sank had gone. And I finally knew exactly whose bike had exploded.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “396441”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My uncle called me out of the blue, saying he urgently needed $340,000 for an emergency. I was put in a tough spot; after all, that’s a massive amount of money. Before I could process it, my husband chimed in: “When your uncle gave you that condo years ago, he definitely wasn’t expecting anything in return, right?” I nodded. He scoffed. “Then what right does he have to ask you for money now?” “He gave it to you, it’s yours. Now that the property value went up, he wants to leech off it? In his dreams.” I froze completely. On the other end of the line, my uncle heard every single word. 1 The other end of the line was dead silent. That silence travelled through the receiver, piercing my eardrum like an ice-cold needle. Every passing second felt like I was being fried in a vat of hot oil. I could imagine my uncle’s honest, hardworking face instantly turning ashen on the other side. “Uncle…” I forced the word out, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with wet cotton. Click. The call disconnected. It wasn’t an angry slam of the phone, but the kind of disconnect where the phone just slips from powerless fingers. My hand was still suspended in mid-air, the phone screen already gone dark. The bright lights of our living room suddenly made me feel freezing cold. Mark, my husband, the man I had shared a bed with for five years, was sitting on the sofa across from me. There wasn’t a trace of guilt on his face; if anything, he looked somewhat smug. “See? I called him out, and he hung up. He knows he’s in the wrong.” He picked up an apple from the coffee table and took a hard bite, making a loud, crisp crunch. “I’m doing this for your own good, Chloe.” “You’re just too soft-hearted. You let people walk all over you.” “These broke relatives of yours, they see you doing well now, see your property went up in value, and they want a piece of the pie.” “Today he has the nerve to ask for three hundred and forty grand. Tomorrow he’ll ask for more.” “It’s a bottomless pit, and we are not jumping in.” Every word he said was like a poisoned blade, stabbing with pinpoint accuracy into the softest part of my heart. I looked at him. This face that I once found so handsome, so reliable, now looked entirely alien. Ugly, even. “Mark, that’s my uncle.” My voice trembled with an anger I didn’t even know I was capable of. “When my parents passed away, all our other relatives avoided me like the plague.” “It was my uncle. He drained his life savings to buy me this condo, just so I would have a roof over my head.” “You can’t put a price tag on that kind of grace.” Mark sneered, casually tossing the apple core into the trash. “Grace? Can grace pay the bills?” “Wake up, Chloe. What century are you living in? You still care about that sentimental garbage?” “When he bought you this place, what was it worth? Maybe fifty grand?” “And what about now? Eight hundred and sixty-five thousand!” Greed flashed in his eyes. The number sounded almost feverish coming from his mouth. “He’s trying to use a fifty-grand investment to leverage over eight hundred grand in cash out of us.” “He really knows how to play the system.” I felt all the blood in my body rush to my head. So, in his eyes, my uncle’s lifesaving grace was nothing more than a calculated financial investment. “Us?” I caught the word he used, a chill rising from the soles of my feet. “Mark, this condo is a pre-marital asset. It’s mine.” His face instantly darkened. “Chloe, what is that supposed to mean?” “We are married. What’s yours is mine, isn’t it?” “I work my ass off for this family, do I get no credit?” He began to list his “sacrifices” over the years. Commuting every day, visiting my hometown during the holidays. He painted himself as the ultimate, selfless family man. I only found it ironic. We had been married for five years, and I covered the vast majority of our household expenses. Because I made more money than him. As for his income, to use his words, “A man needs walking around money for networking, and I need to save up for big investments.” And now, he was already fantasizing about that $865,000. “Once we sell this place, we’ll upgrade to a big house in the suburbs. One with a yard.” “Then we’ll help my brother put a down payment on a starter home downtown. He’s getting to that age.” “Whatever’s left, we save. Boom, college fund for our future kids, sorted.” He planned it all out so naturally. As if my uncle’s only purpose for existing was to provide him and his family with a more comfortable life. I was completely chilled to the bone. This man. I had loved him for five years. I thought he would be my rock for the rest of my life. But in the end, in his world, family, grace, everything… none of it held a candle to money. I didn’t want to argue with him anymore. Any words felt pale and powerless in the face of such naked greed. I turned, walked into the bedroom, and shut the door. I locked all of his filthy words outside. I dug out an old photo album from the deepest part of my nightstand. The cover was yellowed, the edges frayed. The very first page was a photo of me and my uncle. I was sixteen that year, having just lost my parents, skinny as a rail. I was wearing an ill-fitting school hoodie, my eyes full of terror and confusion. My uncle stood beside me, his rough, broad hand gripping my shoulder tightly. His face couldn’t hide his exhaustion, but the way he looked at me was full of determination and fierce compassion. The background of the photo was this very studio apartment. Back then, this area was still a dirt lot. But my uncle pointed at the construction site and said to me: “Chloe, don’t be scared. This is going to be your home from now on.” Tears, without any warning, smashed onto the photo album, blurring a small patch. The bedroom door was violently shoved open. Mark barged in, reeking of alcohol. “Chloe, I’m warning you, you are not allowed to contact that uncle of yours again!” His face was flushed, his eyes vicious. “And do not mention money! Not a single word!” “If you dare give him money behind my back, we are done!” I looked at him coldly. “Mark, what gives you the right?” He was enraged by my stare, his voice pitching higher. “What gives me the right? I am your husband!” “The food you eat, the clothes you wear, the things you use—what part of it isn’t provided by the Miller family?” “You’re an orphan with nothing! If I hadn’t been blind enough to marry you, who knows what gutter you’d be floating in right now!” “Do you really think you’re some high-class city girl now?” “Let me tell you, those broke hicks from your hometown aren’t getting a single dime from me!” Every sentence felt like a ringing slap across my face. So, this whole time, in his heart, I was just a destitute orphan. My only value was attached to an appreciating piece of real estate. I looked at him, and suddenly, I laughed. The sound was alien even to me—sharp, and full of absolute desolation. That night was destined to be sleepless. I stared wide-eyed at the ceiling until the first light of dawn crept through the window. I made a decision. No matter what, I was going to help my uncle. Even if it meant selling this condo. 2 The next day, the doorbell rang loudly and urgently. Looking through the peephole, I saw the anxious face of my mother-in-law, Susan. I knew Mark’s “reinforcements” had arrived. I opened the door, and Susan pushed past me, charging straight in. “Oh, my poor boy, what happened to you? You look awful.” She grabbed Mark’s hands, looking him up and down as if he had suffered some massive injustice. Mark immediately cooperated, putting on an exhausted, helpless expression. Susan turned her head, her gaze landing on me like a spotlight. “Chloe, I heard the news.” “Your uncle is trying to borrow money from you?” The probing tone in her voice was prickly as a needle. I gave a flat response. “Yes.” “How much?” “Over three hundred thousand.” Susan gasped, her voice instantly turning shrill. “Over three hundred thousand?! Why doesn’t he just go rob a bank!” “He’s trying to hollow out our family!” I looked at her coldly. “Mom, that is my uncle. He is family.” “Also, it’s just a loan to get through an emergency. It’s not a handout.” Susan plopped down on the sofa, slapping her thigh and starting her theatrics. “Loan my foot! Lending money to broke relatives is like throwing meat to stray dogs—it never comes back!” “Chloe, Chloe, you can’t be this ungrateful!” “You married into the Miller family now, everything you have belongs to the Millers!” “That condo of yours, even if you bought it before we met, you married my Mark. That makes it Miller family property!” Her logic was simply the logic of a bandit. I was so angry I laughed. “Mom, what you’re saying is very interesting.” “Since when did my condo become Miller family property?” Seeing I wasn’t playing along, Susan’s face changed. She put away the fake tears, revealing shrewd calculation. “Chloe, look, how about this.” “Just to be safe, and to make your uncle give up hope entirely.” “Add Mark’s name to the deed.” “That way, the condo becomes joint marital property. He won’t be able to scheme for it so easily.” Finally, the fox showed its tail. This was the real reason she came today. I rejected her without a second of hesitation. “No way.” Those two words were like a bucket of ice water on her scheming. Susan’s face instantly turned the color of raw liver. “You! You ungrateful wretch!” “Our family must have had the worst luck in the world to marry a traitor like you!” Mark, who had been silent this whole time, finally found his opening. He stood up, walked over to me, and looked down at me. “Chloe, what exactly do you think of me and my mom?” “We are a family!” “Why are we dividing things into ‘yours’ and ‘mine’?” “You’re being so defensive, have you been planning an exit strategy this whole time?” Every accusation felt like he was forcing a selfish, greedy hat onto my head. I was shaking with anger. “Family?” “My uncle is waiting for life-saving money right now, and what are you doing?” “Have you treated them like family for even a second?” Susan jumped up from the sofa, pointing her finger right at my nose. “Whether your uncle’s son lives or dies has nothing to do with the Millers!” “Why should we use our own money to fill their family’s sinkhole?” That sentence exploded in my brain like a thunderclap. I looked at the mother and son in front of me. At their entitled, cold-blooded, ruthless faces. For the first time, I genuinely considered divorce. This wasn’t my home. They weren’t my family. They were just two leeches attached to my property, hoping to suck me dry. I took a deep breath, suppressing the rising nausea in my chest. “Get out.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it carried undeniable finality. Both Mark and Susan froze. They probably never expected that I, usually so compliant, would say something like that. “What did you say?” Mark’s eyes widened. “I said, get the hell out of my condo.” I enunciated every single syllable clearly. Susan snapped out of it and tried to lunge at me, ready to throw a tantrum. “You little bitch, you dare kick me out! I’ll kill you!” I dodged to the side and used all my strength to shove the two of them toward the door. Mark was still trying to reason with me, or rather, threaten me. “Chloe, you’re crazy! You’re cutting ties with us over an outsider?” I didn’t answer. I just forcefully shoved them out the door. Then, with a heavy slam, I shut it. I turned the lock. Deadbolted. The world was finally quiet. I leaned against the cold door, my body sliding down until I hit the floor. But a voice inside my head was incredibly clear: This condo, this final shred of dignity, no one is taking it from me. 3 I sat on the cold floor until my legs went numb. Once I calmed down, the first thing I did was call my uncle back. It rang for a long time before someone picked up. “Hello?” It was my aunt’s voice, thick with congestion and exhaustion. “Auntie, it’s me, Chloe.” “Where’s Uncle?” The other end was silent for a moment before my uncle’s hoarse voice came through. “Chloe, honey.” “Uncle is fine, don’t worry.” “Yesterday… I was out of line. Don’t fight with your husband over me.” He was still thinking about me. My eyes instantly welled up. “Uncle, don’t say that.” “I’m the one who’s sorry.” “What exactly happened? You have to tell me.” After my repeated questioning, my uncle finally told me the truth. My cousin, Leo, was diagnosed with acute leukemia. He needed a bone marrow transplant immediately. They found a match, but the $340,000 surgical fee was a mountain crushing this already struggling family. “…Your cousin is still so young, he’s only twenty-five…” My uncle’s voice choked on a sob. “The doctor said as long as the money is there, the success rate is very high…” On my end of the phone, my face was already covered in tears. It was life-saving money. And yet, because of Mark’s garbage behavior, I had wasted precious time. Guilt and self-reproach washed over me like a tidal wave. “Uncle, don’t worry.” I wiped my tears away, my voice carrying a determination that surprised even me. “I will figure out the money.” “I will get it to you in the shortest amount of time possible.” I hung up and immediately opened my banking app to check the joint account I shared with Mark. But when I saw the balance, I was completely stunned. $36,217. We had been married for five years. Our combined income was over $30,000 a month. Even after daily expenses and his car payment, we should have easily had a six-figure savings account after five years. But now, there was only this pathetic fraction left. My heart sank, inch by inch. I immediately called Mark. He picked up, his voice still laced with anger. “What? Figured it out? Ready to apologize to my mom?” I ignored his yelling and asked directly: “Where is the money in our joint account?” Mark noticeably paused. “What money? Isn’t it all in the card?” “Mark, I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is the money?” My voice was ice cold. He must have heard that something was seriously wrong with my tone, and started stammering. “It… it didn’t go anywhere…” “It’s just… my brother wanted to buy a car a while ago, so I helped him out a bit.” “And, my parents wanted to renovate their old house back home, so I took some out for that too…” “We’re all family, we shouldn’t keep such strict accounts…” My heart felt like it was being sawed in half with a blunt knife. So that was it. So the money I had worked so hard to save up became his capital to subsidize his family. He used my money to play the “good son” and the “great brother” for his family. Yet, when my uncle’s family was waiting for life-saving money, he spewed those cold, cruel words. I finally understood. In his heart, we were never a family. I was just an outsider, a host providing blood and flesh for him and his family. This realization struck me like lightning, leaving me freezing cold. I couldn’t rely on him. There was only one way left. Sell this condo. I opened my laptop and started searching for real estate agents online. This place held all my youth and memories. It was my only safe harbor. Now, it was going to be used to save another family member’s life. I thought, if this condo had feelings, it would support me too. Mark quickly found out what I was doing. Probably through my browser history on the shared iPad. He charged into the study like an enraged lion. “Chloe! Don’t you dare!” He pointed at the agent’s contact info on the screen, his eyes bloodshot. “Let me tell you, you are not selling this condo!” “Don’t even think about it!” I looked up, meeting his gaze calmly. “Mark, we’re done.” My relationship with him had completely frozen over the moment he insulted my uncle. And now, we had fallen into an bottomless abyss below that freezing point. 4 Mark and my mother-in-law, in order to stop me from selling the house, began an absurd farce. They shadowed me constantly. If I went to the bathroom, Susan stood guard at the door. If I went to the kitchen for water, Mark followed right behind me. They acted like two prison guards, treating me like a maximum-security inmate. Even worse, they confiscated my driver’s license, my passport, and the original property deed. “Chloe, let’s see how you sell the house without these!” Mark locked the documents in his personal safe, wearing the smirk of a victor. Susan chimed in: “Exactly! Let’s see what you can do now!” “Just sit quietly at home and stop having these wild ideas.” They thought this would completely control me. I didn’t fight back. I didn’t even argue with them. I just watched them in silence, like watching a ridiculous comedy. My compliance made them drop their guard. They assumed I had finally surrendered and started parading around me, gloating. They mocked me daily, their words full of contempt and humiliation. “An orphan who thinks she’s somebody.” “If it wasn’t for our Mark, you’d still be living in that dump of a studio.” “Now that your wings are fully grown, you think you can just kick the Millers to the curb?” I listened silently, recording everything in my mind. But my eyes grew colder by the day. They didn’t know I had already reported my driver’s license lost and requested a replacement. The new ID was sitting quietly in the hidden compartment of a tote bag I used often. They also didn’t know that for something as important as a property deed, there was no way I wouldn’t have a backup plan. Copies, the original purchase agreement, and all related documents—I had duplicates hidden in a place they would never think to look. I used the time when Mark was at work and Susan was out grocery shopping to secretly meet with several real estate agents. I chose an experienced, reliable-looking senior agent, Sarah. I told her my entire situation. After listening, Sarah was furious. “Honey, don’t worry.” “I see this kind of stuff all the time.” “Not having the original deed is a bit of a hassle, but it’s not impossible.” “As long as you have the purchase agreement and your ID, we can sign a listing agreement first.” “I’ll help you navigate the rest of the process slowly.” Under the agent’s guidance, I prepared all the necessary listing materials. Mark and his mother knew absolutely nothing about this. They were still intoxicated by the thrill of controlling everything. Watching their smug, petty faces, I felt no anger, only a bone-deep coldness. That afternoon, while Susan was napping and Mark hadn’t gotten off work yet. I slipped out of the house and signed an exclusive listing agreement with Sarah. The moment I signed my name. I knew my counterattack had officially begun. Step one went even smoother than I had imagined.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “396440”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel