When I opened my eyes, I was back—back to the day my brother Ian was about to sign up for the international boxing tournament. This time, I snatched the form and wrote my own name over his. In my past life, Ian had a system that let him transfer all his pain to me. Every blow he took, I felt. It made him a $25 million-per-fight champion, while I became a walking case of chronic pain, covered in bruises no one could see. My family dismissed my suffering. When I told them the truth, they said I was just jealous, cracking under pressure. “Pain transfer? If that were real, cancer patients wouldn’t need morphine,” they’d say. Each of his fights was my hell. Once, the agony sent me to the ER with a cerebral hemorrhage. Doctors were baffled; they thought I was self-harming. It ended the day Ian, drunk on fame, took on five opponents at once. He won—spectacularly. But I was the one who paid. My body gave out, my skull fractured, and I died right there in the crowd. 1 Just before he was supposed to register, Ian spammed the family group chat with videos of his training sessions. As I watched, a phantom bruise bloomed around my left eye, and a deep, bloating pain radiated from my stomach. It was Saturday morning. I had just woken up, planning to go downstairs for a quiet breakfast. Even reborn, it seemed, my fate was still tethered to his. Anytime he got hurt, the wounds and the agony manifested on me. A tremor ran through me, my scalp prickling with dread. In the group chat, Ian kept posting. There he was, in a workout tank, eyes feral as he unleashed a flurry of blows on a punching bag. He looked like a god of war. [Dad, Mom, I was born for this. One opponent is a joke. Watch me show you what I can really do.] He followed up with more arrogant texts. My aunt immediately chimed in, fawning like a groupie. [Ian, you’re incredible! If my son were half as driven as you, I’d be living the high life by now.] Then came a photo: Ian, holding the boxing registration form to his chest, boasting that he was about to spar with two opponents at once. I threw on my clothes and raced to his training gym. If he kept this up, I was a dead man walking. In the car, I pulled up the news on the international tournament. Reborn, I wouldn’t let myself be a victim again. And I would uncover the truth behind my death. When I walked into the gym, my parents were already there, their faces glowing with pride as they cheered Ian on. The moment their eyes met mine, their expressions curdled into contempt. “Alex, we told you not to bother your brother while he’s training,” my father snarled. “You’re just a paper-pusher with a dead-end job. You’re not even in the same league as him. Get out.” 2 “Your brother has a major competition coming up,” my mother added, her voice sharp as glass. “This is the most critical time for his training. If you distract him, I swear I’ll have your hide!” In my past life, after Ian graduated from the sports academy, my parents pinned all their hopes on him. They secretly transferred my entire life savings, thirty thousand dollars, to his account. He needed it, they said, for “proper nutrition” to fuel his grueling training. When I demanded my money back, my father slapped me across the face. “Your brother is making this family proud! So he used your thirty grand? If he wins this fight, the prize is twenty-five million dollars! What’s your pathetic savings compared to that?” Back then, Ian’s training videos were all over social media and the family chat. Even if I tried to ignore them, I couldn’t escape. But then things got strange. After every match, every sparring session, my body would erupt in crippling pain. Sometimes I couldn’t even walk. Then came the cerebral hemorrhage. The doctors told me it was the kind of injury caused by a severe impact, and they warned me to avoid all strenuous activity. I tried talking to my parents again. They just rolled their eyes, convinced I was consumed by jealousy. They had become his managers, negotiating his contracts and appearance fees. They were terrified I would sabotage their cash cow. More than once, I collapsed at home, convulsing in agony, only to be found by a neighbor who rushed me to the hospital. The doctors would lecture me, assuming I was some fitness fanatic who was pushing my body to its breaking point. It all culminated in that final fight. Ian, in a fit of showboating, demanded to fight five opponents simultaneously. The referee agreed, announcing that a victory would double his prize money. That day, my body was pulverized. My soul drifted upwards, and I watched as my parents embraced Ian, tears of joy streaming down their faces. He was the world champion. They moved into a mansion, draped themselves in gold, and lived a life of luxury. They never even bothered to claim my body, letting it be disposed of in an unmarked grave. Back then, I couldn’t understand what I had done to deserve such a fate. But now, I didn’t care. He wanted my life? Fine. I’d drag him to hell with me. I stormed into the training room, ripped the registration form from his hand, and tore off my shirt, throwing it to the ground. “Ian,” I said, my voice thick with false emotion, “you’re my brother. Seeing you work this hard for the competition… it breaks my heart. I’ve decided I’ll fight in your place. I’ll take on all the hardship. You just stay home and enjoy your life.” Ian froze, his fist hovering in mid-air. He stared at me, bewildered. “Alex, the fight is next month. I’m training. This isn’t some game. You, fight for me? Are you trying to be funny?” I ignored him and strutted in front of his coach. My well-defined eight-pack immediately caught his eye. I’d always been a gym rat, and my physique was naturally more imposing than Ian’s—taller, with leaner, more powerful muscles. And frankly, I was better looking. At this point, Ian was only a local gym hero, hyped up by family and friends. The coach’s eyes, however, were on me now. He nodded slowly, a look of appreciation on his face. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” 3 Ian respected his coach too much to argue. He stepped out of the ring, giving me the floor. I tossed aside the headgear, the gloves, the mouthguard, and the groin protector—all the gear Ian never fought without. I was all in. I needed to know if this system worked both ways. If I took a beating, would the marks appear on him? I started sparring with one of the guys and quickly gained the upper hand. The coach clapped, impressed. “You’re not a pro, but your form is solid. You’ve got real potential.” I shot Ian a smug look. “See? Even your coach thinks so. I bet I can win this thing. And if I do, you can have all the prize money. How about it?” My parents had invited all our relatives to watch. Now, their attention was entirely on me. Ian’s face darkened with humiliation. I studied him, looking for any sign of pain from the punch I had just taken. Nothing. He was just glaring at me, looking like he wanted to rip my head off. Was it because one punch wasn’t enough? “Let’s get the other three guys in here,” I announced. “I’m ready for all of them.” Ian panicked. “Alex, what if you get killed?” “How about this,” I proposed, “You and I fight. Winner takes all. The loser quits boxing for life.” He started to put on his headgear and climb into the ring, but I pushed him back down. “Ian, I’m doing this for you,” I said, my voice dripping with concern. “Mom and Dad love you. You’re my baby brother. What would they do if you got seriously hurt? Haven’t you seen what happens to boxers? Guys go blind, some even die in the ring. It’s brutal.” I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, secretly pinching my own thigh hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. “Boxing can be your hobby, but I can’t let it destroy you.” The relatives were moved. Some of them were actually crying. They applauded me, calling me a wonderful, caring brother. They told Ian to sit down and let me take his place. Ian pleaded with our parents, but they had already heard the coach mention the possibility of “double the prize money.” Their eyes were gleaming with greed. All they cared about was the payout. Who actually fought didn’t matter. The fact that I, the “failure,” had more potential than their professional son was just an unexpected bonus. But after a few rounds, I was getting dizzy from the blows. I glanced over at Ian. He was just standing there, face a mask of fury, showing no signs of discomfort. This wasn’t right. I was taking a beating, and he was completely fine. So, it was a one-way street. My injuries didn’t affect him at all. Only the pain he was supposed to feel transferred to me. Once I was thoroughly exhausted, I called a stop to the session. “That was a great training session, guys. Thanks for your cooperation. That last hook taught me a lot about my defensive reflexes. Let’s call it a day and pick this up tomorrow.” With that, I made a quick exit. As soon as I was out of sight, I collapsed in an alley, gasping for breath. 4 It was three in the morning, and I couldn’t sleep. If I didn’t figure this out, I was going to die, and I wouldn’t even know how. On my way to the bathroom, it felt like a sledgehammer slammed into my head. Stars exploded behind my eyes. I steadied myself against the wall, only for a nauseating pain to erupt in my stomach. My temples throbbed, and it felt like a dull knife was twisting between my bones, tugging at my organs with every movement. I fumbled for the painkillers and swallowed two, but the familiar relief never came. Instead, the pain crashed over me in a fresh wave, more intense than before. A sickening feeling washed over me. I unlocked my phone, and the first thing I saw was Ian’s latest social media post. It was a picture of him in front of a bar, his foot planted triumphantly on the chest of a one-eyed man. The caption read: [Just doing my civic duty. Can’t stand bullies who prey on the weak, especially when they’re harassing women!] He then started a video call in the family group chat. On the screen, the one-eyed man broke free and lunged at Ian, plunging a knife into his shoulder. I screamed, the pain so blinding I nearly passed out. My hands shaking, I furiously typed in the chat. [Are you an idiot? See a hero, be a hero, but know your limits! Call the cops! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!] My warning did nothing. Ian just rolled up his sleeves, smashed his fist into the man’s face, and ripped the knife out of his own shoulder, throwing it aside. [I’m not just taking him down. I saw his wallet. It’s full of pictures of abused young women. These guys are traffickers. I’m going to take down their whole operation and put them all behind bars!] As he spoke, a group of muscular men surrounded him. They were skilled fighters. They beat him to the ground. I felt every blow, my body screaming in agony, feeling like it was about to tear itself apart. [RUN! You’re the one getting hit, but I’M the one in pain! Do you have a death wish?!] [JUST RUN! I ALREADY CALLED THE POLICE FOR YOU!] I sent message after message, but Ian didn’t move. He just stayed there, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he stared into the camera. A heavy, pounding sensation hammered at my skull, a sharp, explosive pain wrapped in a dull ache. My vision blurred into a sea of red. I managed to dial 911. “Help me…” I choked out, before my consciousness faded to black. Just like in my last life, I was rushed to the hospital for a massive cerebral hemorrhage. The doctors pleaded with me to avoid any and all strenuous activity. As they examined me, one of them shook his head in disbelief. “This is bizarre. You said you were home all day, but your injuries are severe. Bruises and internal bleeding all over, two broken ribs… what happened to you?” I said nothing. Later that night, I snuck out of the hospital and went home. I was going to make Ian pay. The moment I walked in the door, I pulled out a knife and pressed it to his throat. “Alex, are you crazy? I’m your brother!” I gritted my teeth, a murderous rage boiling inside me. “Cut the crap. Tell me the truth. Why is it that when you get hit, I’m the one who feels the pain?” He blinked, his face a mask of perfect innocence. “Bro, are you delirious? What are you talking about?” I pressed the blade deeper into his skin. “Still playing dumb? You really want to die, don’t you?” A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. “No, bro, don’t! Okay, okay, I’ll tell you everything I know.” But the moment I let my guard down, he shoved me aside and sprinted upstairs. “Mom! Dad! Alex has lost his mind! He’s trying to kill me!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420110”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My fiancée, Dr. Audrey O’Bryan, had just been promoted to Head of Department. To celebrate, I’d picked out a Hermès bag I knew she’d love, a little surprise to mark the occasion. But as I stepped into her office at the hospital, a young resident shot me a hostile glare. “This is the department head’s office,” he snapped, his brow furrowed. “Outsiders aren’t allowed in.” I managed a smile, explaining that I was Dr. O’Bryan’s fiancé. His eyes, however, were glued to the luxury shopping bag in my hand. I rarely came to the hospital, but being sized up like this felt…unpleasant. Suddenly, a strange smirk crossed his face. He turned, announcing he would go get Dr. O’Bryan. While he was gone, I noticed a half-eaten container of takeout on her desk. A pang of sympathy hit me—she was working so hard. I decided to tidy up for her. The moment my fingers closed around the plastic container, the resident burst back in, two burly security guards in tow. “That’s him!” he yelled, pointing a trembling finger at me. “He’s the one trying to bribe Dr. O’Bryan right here in her office!” The guards lunged forward. The gift, the takeout box—everything nearly crashed to the floor. 1. Before I could process what was happening, two massive security guards had my arms twisted behind my back. The resident, a man named Chase according to the ID clipped to his scrubs, noticed me staring at his name tag. He ripped it off and shoved it in my face. “What, you want to file a complaint?” he sneered. “Go ahead! But you’ll have to wait until you’re out of a jail cell.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m Dr. O’Bryan’s assistant. I will not allow a social parasite like you to tarnish her reputation!” A social parasite? That was a heavy accusation. I knew the relationship between doctors and the public could be tense, but this was City Central Hospital. It was founded nearly a century ago by a renowned philanthropist, a place famous for its integrity. It had never been associated with scandal. “I’m family!” I protested, my voice rising. “I’m Dr. O’Bryan’s fiancé! What right do you have to accuse me of anything?” “Fiancé? Ha! More like a gold digger. I don’t know how you found out Dr. O’Bryan is in charge of procuring new medical equipment, but you picked the wrong person to bribe.” He jabbed a finger toward the door. “Get out of this hospital now, or I’m calling the police.” The guards tightened their grip, their fingers digging deep into my biceps. Through the open door, I could see patients peering in, their faces a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. I gritted my teeth against the pain. “You’ve got this all wrong. I really am her fiancé. Think about it—if I were trying to bribe her, would I do it in broad daylight, in her office?” Chase laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “See? The fox shows its tail! So you admit you’re here to bribe her!” “You wish you could have met her in private, don’t you? Too bad for you, she’s too important to meet with scum like you. So you got desperate and tried this stunt!” I was starting to lose my temper. This guy’s imagination was working overtime. “Whether I’m her fiancé or some medical supplier, you’ll find out the truth when Dr. O’Bryan gets here,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “You have no proof. On what grounds are you having me detained?” “Proof?” Chase glanced around, then snatched the shopping bag from Audrey’s desk. With a dramatic flourish, he dumped the contents onto the floor. The luxurious leather bag landed with a soft thud. “This is your proof!” he declared, his voice ringing with triumph. “I’ve seen this exact bag on their website. It’s priced at fifty thousand dollars.” He smirked. “How does fifteen years in a federal prison sound?” He waved a dismissive hand at the guards. “What are you waiting for? Take him away!” They shoved me out of the office. I struggled, but their grip was like iron. The onlookers in the hallway parted like the Red Sea, their whispers following me like a swarm of angry bees. “Disgusting! Trying to bribe a doctor!” “A fifty-thousand-dollar bag… how many lives did that cost?” “People like that deserve to get sick and have no one to treat them!” “Good on City Central for not tolerating this kind of corruption!” A few men looked like they were ready to physically attack me. “You’ve got it all wrong!” I yelled, desperate. “That bag is a gift for my fiancée, Dr. Audrey O’Bryan! Her picture is on the wall outside her office. Please, someone just get her!” I pleaded with the crowd, then turned back to Chase. “Just let me make one phone call! She’ll clear this all up!” He gave me a condescending look but signaled for one of the guards to release my hand. The phone rang, and rang, and rang. No answer. I tried again. It went straight to voicemail. The crowd’s murmurs shifted from curiosity back to open hostility. Chase’s laugh was laced with scorn. “You say you’re her fiancé, but she won’t even answer your call?” Then I remembered the half-eaten takeout on her desk. “She’s in surgery, isn’t she? You can’t take phones into the operating room!” I said, a sliver of hope returning. “I’ll wait right here until she’s finished.” Chase just shook his head. A guard shoved me forward, and I stumbled, crashing into a chair. The back of it slammed into my stomach, and I doubled over, nausea churning in my gut. “Still won’t give up, huh? You’re determined to frame Dr. O’Bryan?” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “Don’t think I’ll tell you her whereabouts! I just need to take you to one person to expose your little charade!” 2. Chase led the way, the two guards marching me behind him. We entered the inpatient ward and stopped at room 308. An elderly woman, probably in her sixties, was resting in the bed by the window. She opened her eyes as we entered. “Mrs. Lee, are you resting well?” Chase said, his voice suddenly warm and friendly. “You have a visitor!” He gestured toward me. “Who is this?” the woman asked, her eyes clouded with confusion. I was just as lost. Why had they brought me to see this old woman? “Hello,” I said, out of politeness. “Young man, do I know you?” Chase chuckled. “Of course you don’t. That’s the point. This man claims to be Dr. O’Bryan’s fiancé.” He turned to me, his eyes gleaming with malicious triumph. “If you’re really Dr. O’Bryan’s fiancé, how is it that you don’t recognize her own mother?” The world tilted on its axis. My mouth fell open. That was impossible. Audrey’s mother was dead. I was there. It was her mother’s death that had caused Audrey to collapse from grief. I had taken care of her in the hospital for a week, and that’s when our love story began… Chase misinterpreted my stunned silence as guilt. “The evidence is all here,” he declared. “What else can you possibly say for yourself?” “Take him to security! Don’t let him disturb the patients.” I snapped out of my daze. Just as the guards were about to push me out of the room, I broke free and lunged toward the old woman’s bed. “Are you really Audrey’s mother? But… she’s dead!” The woman erupted in a violent coughing fit. “What an insolent young man, cursing me to be dead!” she gasped between coughs. “Security! Security!” A guard kicked me hard. I was so close to the bed that my forehead slammed against the metal frame with a loud crack. The bed shuddered, and I crumpled to the floor, blood streaming from a gash on my head. The patient in the next bed screamed. “He’s killing her! Someone’s going to die!” “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Lee, I’m so sorry!” Chase said, rushing to the woman’s side. He shot a venomous glare at me. “It’s all this fraud’s fault. He tried to bribe Dr. O’Bryan, and then had the audacity to impersonate her fiancé. I had to bring him here for you to identify him.” Mrs. Lee finally caught her breath and gave Chase a disapproving look. “How can you be Audrey’s assistant and not even know what her fiancé looks like?” “Yes, yes, you’re right,” Chase stammered, bowing his head. “It’s all this con man’s fault. He’s so devious!” “Audrey told me,” I said, my voice hoarse, “that her family favored sons over daughters. Her original name was a boy’s name, and she changed it herself in college. Is that true?” I stared at Mrs. Lee, searching her face for any flicker of deceit. There was none. “What nonsense are you spouting!” she exclaimed. “My daughter’s name has always been Audrey! Her father wanted her to be an inventor, like Edison!” Her voice rose in anger. “First you curse me to be dead, and now you’re spreading lies to ruin my daughter’s reputation, our family’s good name!” “I…” She clutched her chest, gasping for air. Chase quickly administered oxygen and shot the guards a look. They moved to drag me away. I wiped the blood from my face and roared, “I’m not leaving! I want to see Audrey, face to face!” I clung to the leg of the bed, refusing to let go. “You!” the old woman wheezed. “Call her! Call Audrey and tell her to get back here!” Chase glared at me and stepped out of the room to make the call. Once she had calmed down a bit, Mrs. Lee beckoned me closer. “Come here, young man.” The woman in the next bed leaned in, curious. Mrs. Lee pulled out her phone and swiped through her photo album. There were several pictures of her and Audrey, smiling together. Then she played a short video. Someone else was filming as Audrey sang “Happy Birthday” to her, and Mrs. Lee beamed with joy. My heart turned to stone. This woman was undoubtedly Audrey’s mother. Why had Audrey lied to me? 3. About half an hour later, the door opened. Chase walked in, but Audrey wasn’t with him. Instead, a young man in a sharp suit, his hair perfectly coiffed, followed him in, carrying a bouquet of carnations. “Mom, I’m so sorry you were frightened,” he said to Mrs. Lee, his voice smooth and apologetic. He then turned to me. “Let’s go to Audrey’s office. We shouldn’t disturb the elderly.” “Where’s Audrey?” I demanded. “I need to see her!” “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue now that the real fiancé is here?” he said with a mocking smile. “Or are you just scared of what I might do to you?” “You say you’re Audrey’s fiancé. Prove it.” He burst out laughing, a loud, booming sound that filled the small room. “Prove it? Hahahaha…” Chase looked at me like I was an idiot. “Did you hit your head too hard? Are you trying to scam the hospital?” “This is Dr. O’Bryan’s mother!” he sneered. “And he just called her ‘Mom’! She’s already acknowledged him as her son-in-law. What more proof do you need? A moron like you probably wouldn’t even believe a marriage certificate!” He gave me another contemptuous look. “Besides, his name is Evans.” I didn’t get it. What was so special about the name Evans? “He’s the director’s nephew,” Chase explained, his voice dripping with admiration. “And the second son of the Winston Group, the largest medical equipment conglomerate in the state. Mr. Julian Evans.” “Our Dr. O’Bryan is from a good family, she’s beautiful, and she’s a brilliant doctor. She’s not for just anyone,” he continued, his tone condescending. “A wealthy, handsome man like Mr. Evans is a perfect match for her. You?” He scoffed. “I bet that bag wiped out your entire savings. A small-time company like yours can’t compete with a giant like the Winston Group.” The guards dragged me away. As we walked down the hall, I could hear the whispers of the nurses and patients. “Did you hear? Some medical supplier tried to bribe Dr. O’Bryan by pretending to be her fiancé. And her real fiancé caught him in the act!” “Dr. O’Bryan is the youngest department head in the hospital’s history. It’s true what they say, success breeds jealousy.” “I heard about that incident in orthopedics last year. A surgical robot malfunctioned, and the patient’s family raised hell for three days straight. The hospital had to pay out over a million dollars!” “These shady medical suppliers should be drawn and quartered!” … The Hermès bag was still on the floor of Audrey’s office. Julian Evans propped his feet up on her desk, his expensive leather shoe resting right on top of it. I bit back my anger. “It’s rude to put your feet on someone else’s gift.” He grabbed a pen holder from the desk and threw it at me, then kicked the bag across the floor. “Who the hell do you think you are, lecturing me about manners?” he sneered. “Tell me, which pathetic little company do you work for? You think a fifty-thousand-dollar bag is enough to buy your way in here?” “Not talking? Don’t worry, I have my ways of making people talk.” The guards forced me to my knees. I looked him straight in the eye. “This is a hospital. We live in a civilized society. Are you really going to resort to torture?” Julian raised an eyebrow. “Scared? Then start talking. I want to know which third-rate company is trying to steal business from the Winston Group.” “I told you, I’m not here to bribe anyone. I’m Audrey’s fiancé. Here, these are our engagement rings.” I struggled to my feet and retrieved the two rings from the bag. Our initials were engraved on the inside of each band. Julian’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Interesting. I’ve never seen a bribe come with engagement rings before.” He made a phone call. Less than five minutes later, Audrey walked in. “Honey,” Julian said, a lazy drawl in his voice, “this man insists he’s your fiancé.” Audrey gave me a cold, dismissive look. “He’s just some rich kid who’s been chasing me for years,” she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. “Leo, if I ever gave you the wrong impression, if I ever made you think I was interested, then I apologize. But please, stop harassing me.” The wrong impression? Hah. So our five-year relationship was all in my head. “The wrong impression? Was it the wrong impression when I went with you to scatter your mother’s ashes at sea? Or when you told me you came from a poor, rural family that didn’t value daughters? Or is the mole on your back just my imagination?” I hated to reveal something so private, but her heartless betrayal left me no choice.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420109”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I opened my eyes, I was holding the pale, frail wyrmling. Without a second thought, I flung it into the dirt. Ten years ago, my sister Kelen and I found two baby wyrmlings in the woods. One was black, scales etched with ancient runes. It wound around Kelen’s wrist, pulsing with power. The other was a weak white wyrmling. I took it home out of pity, beginning a decade of tiresome care. Within a year, the black wyrmling took human form as Ronan, a man who treated Kelen like a queen. I, meanwhile, worked grueling jobs just to feed myself and the useless white wyrmling. By dating age, every guy in Silverpine avoided me—they said to ditch the snake, then they’d take me out. I threw them all off the porch. I used to stroke the wyrmling’s head, promising I’d never abandon it, even if it never took human form. Then a flash flood changed everything. The wyrmling I’d nurtured ten years suddenly transformed into a radiant Celestial Dragon. As I thrashed in the floodwaters, I reached for its tail—but it swam past me, gently lifting Kelen to safety. It had only ever had eyes for my sister, and had learned to take human form long before Ronan, hiding it from me all along. 1 Kelen placed the white wyrmling in my palm. She told me to look at its pristine scales, claiming it would definitely evolve into a dragon one day and treat me like a queen. She reminded me about Old Mrs. Higgins from the next town over, who picked up a similar creature and got blessed with endless fortune when it ascended. She playfully told me not to forget her when I hit the big time. A few locals walking by overheard and immediately got defensive. They praised Kelen for her sweet heart, noting that white wyrmlings were statistically more likely to ascend than black ones. They insisted that since I lacked Kelen’s gentle nature and gorgeous looks, the white wyrmling belonged with her. Kelen’s face flashed with fake hurt before she forced a brave smile, claiming she was the older sister and it was her job to let me have the best things. I frowned, staring down at the creature. Anyone with half a brain could see the white wyrmling was barely breathing. The black one, however, had eyes burning with vitality, its obsidian scales reflecting a mesmerizing, iridescent light. The townsfolk were clueless, but Kelen definitely knew the black one was the true prize. In my past life, I did not call out her bluff. The white wyrmling was covered in blood and looked too pathetic to abandon. But now, looking at the tiny creature bearing its fangs at me from my palm, I only felt pure disgust. Why had I never noticed before? He wasn’t acting out of trauma. He bared his fangs because he absolutely hated me. Smack! I chucked the white wyrmling straight onto a jagged rock, adjusted the strap of my gathering basket, and turned on my heel. Kelen gasped, dropping to her knees to scoop the creature up. She screamed at me, asking how I could be so cruel to a living breathing thing. I told her fate decides who lives and dies, and if it dies today, that is simply its destiny. Kelen yelled my name, her voice trembling. She called me cold-blooded, asking if I was really just going to stand there and watch it die. The surrounding villagers glared at me with open disgust. Whispers echoed around the dirt road. People muttered that I was rotten to the core. They praised Kelen’s beauty and kind heart, comparing me to background noise and calling me evil. I gripped the woven straps of my basket. Looking back, I saw Kelen wiping away fake tears, begging the crowd not to be so hard on me, which naturally only made them pity her more. She always pulled this stunt. She would paint a target on my back and then play the tragic peacemaker, acting like she was the one constantly bearing the burden of my supposed cruelty. I let out a dry laugh and told her that since she was so overflowing with kindness, she should just take both of them. Kelen froze, her eyes darting nervously. She stammered, claiming she couldn’t possibly hog such high-quality magical creatures all to herself. I waved my hand dismissively. I told her to take him, adding that I wanted absolutely no part of his glorious ascension. That shut her up. The white wyrmling was severely injured, and saving it would require a massive drain of time and money. But the villagers, having thoroughly judged me, turned to Kelen with hopeful, expectant eyes. They told her I was completely devoid of empathy and that she deserved all the blessings. They urged her to stop worrying about a selfish brat like me. Kelen stumbled over her words, pointing out how badly the creature was wounded. Suddenly, a blinding flash of white light erupted. Everyone gasped, shielding their eyes. I whipped my head around. A man in pristine white robes stood there, looking like a literal god descended from the heavens. A thin trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth only made his breathtaking, otherworldly beauty more striking. Several women in the crowd completely forgot how to breathe. I stood frozen in my tracks. The white wyrmling had just taken human form. 2 I tightened my grip on my basket. I had honestly believed he only figured out how to shift after I spent years nursing him back to health. Turns out, he could do it from day one. For an entire decade, he sat back and watched the entire town ridicule me for carrying around a useless, unshifted familiar, and he never lifted a single finger to help. Yet right now, in his most vulnerable and weakened state, he forced his transformation just to impress Kelen. Kelen immediately changed her tune, boldly declaring that his injuries did not matter and that she would take full responsibility for him. Shifting meant he was incredibly close to ascending to full dragonhood. The locals were utterly hypnotized by his divine appearance. Seeing me standing there in a daze, Kelen subtly stepped in front of him, blocking my view. She put on a sugary voice, telling me that since I explicitly threw him away and refused to listen to reason, she had no choice but to take him home. The villagers rallied behind her. They told Kelen she didn’t need to explain herself, insisting I had surrendered my rights and would be a joke if I tried to take him back. Kelen blushed perfectly, whispering that her sister wasn’t that kind of person. I stared coldly at the man. He peered over the crowd, his gaze locking onto mine. His desperate, forced transformation. That deep, complicated look in his eyes. I knew right then. He had reincarnated too. When I turned and walked away without a single ounce of hesitation or regret, a flash of pure confusion and shock rippled across his face. By nightfall, the entire town of Silverpine was gossiping about how I fumbled the greatest magical familiar in history. His celestial aura had everyone on their knees. No one doubted he would become a legendary Elder Dragon. They laughed at my stupidity and praised Kelen for her good karma. Everyone assumed I would be drowning in regret, crawling back to beg for his favor. But to their absolute shock, I didn’t even spare him a second glance once I got home. Finally, as we crossed paths in the hallway a few days later, a cold hand clamped down on my wrist. I yanked my arm, but his grip was like iron. He stared down at me, his brows furrowed in a silent, demanding question. He looked deeply dissatisfied. Was he wondering why I wasn’t obsessing over him this time around? Was he really that oblivious? Unable to break free, I brought my other hand up and shoved hard against his forearm, peeling his fingers off my skin one by one. I massaged my bruised wrist, muttered a few choice curses, and slammed my bedroom door in his face. Gabriel looked down at his empty hand, then stared at my closed door, his eyes flashing with a faint reddish tint. When someone is smothered in unconditional love for too long, they start feeling entitled to it. The second I pulled that love away, he probably felt like I was the one betraying him. Thinking about my past life, how I dragged him through storms and broke my back to keep him safe, I really thought we had a profound bond. Ripping that away so suddenly did make my chest ache a little. But later that night, I woke up parched. While heading to the kitchen for water, I heard hushed voices coming from the guest room. Someone was whispering, asking their Lord if he felt guilty about the younger sister, suggesting he become her familiar instead. I peeked through the crack in the door. Gabriel stood with his hands behind his back, bathed in moonlight, looking every bit the divine being he was. His voice was like striking crystal. He stated that since fate granted him a second chance, he was going to fix his biggest regret. A shadowy figure kneeling behind him asked about his older brother, pointing out that Ronan had already chosen Kelen. Gabriel glanced back, his usually cold eyes burning with a fierce, terrifying obsession. He declared he came back entirely for Kelen, and nothing in the realms would stop him from having her. He swore he wouldn’t back down, even if he had to fight his own brother. The sheer delusion of it made my ears ring, and I turned to leave. But before I could step away, the shadowy guard asked why the Celestial Lord was so madly in love with a mortal girl. Gabriel’s eyes softened under the moonlight. He spoke of a time he fell from the heavens and crashed at Dragon’s Cove. He swore he would never forget the girl who scooped his broken body up with her bare hands and guarded him for forty nine days straight. He admitted that without her, his divine trial would have failed, and his bones would have rotted in the dirt. Dragon’s Cove?! I froze dead in my tracks. My hands began to shake uncontrollably. That was the exact place I found a dying white wyrmling years ago. I kept him hidden in a cave, fiercely protecting him for forty nine days before he stabilized enough for me to carry him back to town. I had never told a single living soul about that. So the dying wyrmling at the cove and the magical familiar I raised were the exact same entity! My fingernails dug into my palms. A dark, bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat. Gabriel, you absolute, monumental idiot. I had zero intention of correcting him. In this new life, my ambitions lay far beyond playing nursemaid to a blind god. 3 I drastically cut down my foraging trips into the woods. Instead, I spent almost every waking hour locked in my room, burying myself in advanced spellbooks and federal law texts. This routine lasted until the annual Spring Equinox Gala. Kelen practically kicked my door down and dragged me out of my chair. She whined that it was the biggest festival of the year, warning me that if I didn’t attend, the Spring Goddess wouldn’t bless me. I glanced back at my worn out copy of the Arcane Codex. Figuring I needed a break anyway, I gave a brief nod. Kelen shoved a shopping bag into my hands. She told me she bought me a beautiful new dress and threw out all my old, ragged clothes, insisting I had to look presentable. I read through another chapter before finally opening the bag that evening. The supposed beautiful dress was a hideous, blinding neon pink gown covered in cheap lime green floral patterns. The atrocious color clash would make anyone look like an absolute clown. I rummaged through my closet for something else, only to find it completely empty. She really had thrown everything away. Starving and exhausted from studying all day, I gritted my teeth, put the monstrosity on, and headed out to grab some food. The second I stepped onto the festival grounds, I ran straight into Kelen and her entourage. She was draped in elegant, ethereal white silk. Her friends gasped the moment they saw me. One mocked me, asking if I honestly thought I looked good. Another laughed, calling me an ugly attention seeker. She joked that I was trying way too hard to fit the floral theme, saying I just ended up looking like a tacky weed trying to steal the spotlight from Kelen, the reigning festival queen. They giggled, saying I definitely succeeded at stealing the show, just as the town jester. Someone pointed out that Kelen’s dress was woven from magical silk gifted by the great Lord Gabriel, sneering that a peasant in a clown suit like me didn’t belong in their presence. Kelen immediately put her hands up, begging everyone to stop. Her expensive perfume hit my nose like a physical blow. She grabbed both my arms, her eyes wide with fabricated shock. She asked why on earth I would wear something like this in public, immediately taking the blame and crying that it was her fault for not picking out something better suited for me. Tears welled up in her eyes on command. The crowd rushed to comfort her. They insisted it wasn’t her fault, saying I simply lacked the grace to pull anything off. They praised Kelen for being an angel, pointing out that the same outfit would look stunning on her, and begged her to stop beating herself up. Another girl chimed in, saying she refused to believe this was my only option. She blamed me for making my own choices just to embarrass Kelen. Kelen dabbed her eyes delicately, whispering that it broke her heart to see her own sister acting out like this. I looked right at her and asked her if she was done putting on a show. That single sentence silenced the entire group. I stepped right up to the girl who claimed I had other options. I challenged Kelen to tell everyone exactly who cleared out my entire closet. Kelen choked on her words. In the past, I would have just swallowed my pride and walked away, too exhausted to deal with their high school drama. But this time, I wasn’t letting her off the hook. I pointed at Kelen’s gorgeous gown. I noted that even if Gabriel provided the silk, the elegant design clearly came from her own refined taste. I asked her point blank why someone with such an immaculate eye for fashion would specifically choose a clown suit for me. Kelen covered her mouth, gasping dramatically. She accused me of suspecting her of sabotage. I swatted her hands away, telling her to drop the victim act. I asked if it didn’t get exhausting playing the innocent martyr all the time. I told her if she was truly innocent, we could all march back to our house right now and see exactly where my clothes were hidden. All the color drained from Kelen’s face. I turned around to lead the way. Kelen panicked, lunging forward to grab my arm, but I violently shoved her back. Kelen let her tears fall freely, crying out that regardless of whether she hid the clothes or not, my aggressive behavior was tearing our sisterhood apart. I told her we could talk about sisterhood after we searched her room. Just as I took another step, a sharp, piercing pain struck my wrist. I looked down. Two tiny puncture wounds. Snake bites. Suddenly, my mouth opened against my will. My vocal cords hijacked my brain. I began screaming that the pink dress was amazing, that I was way prettier than Kelen, and that I was going to prove to everyone she was a hideous monster. I yelled that even if I framed her by throwing the clothes in her room, everyone would still take my side! I clamped both hands over my mouth in pure horror. The crowd stared at me like I was a literal demon. One of Kelen’s friends shrieked, calling me a calculating psycho, and slapped me hard across the face. The mob descended. Hands grabbed my hair, slapped my cheeks, and tore at my clothes. They screamed that I should be grateful I even had rags to wear and that I didn’t deserve Kelen’s kindness. Shoved and beaten, I stumbled backward and had no choice but to break into a sprint, fleeing the festival grounds. Right before I turned the corner, I saw Gabriel materialize beside Kelen. He pulled her safely into his chest, shooting me a glare of absolute freezing contempt. Kelen buried her face in his shirt, perfectly masking the vicious, triumphant smirk on her lips. Remembering that flash of white light right before the venom hit my veins, I ground my teeth so hard my jaw popped. 4 While I was locked in my room nursing my bruises, Gabriel actually had the audacity to walk through my door. I slapped the bowl of medicine right out of his hands. Ceramic shattered, spilling dark liquid across the floorboards. He looked at me, his expression an unreadable mix of frustration and pity. He pulled a small pill from his pocket, grabbed my jaw with a vice-like grip, and forced the antidote down my throat. He warned me that if I spat it out, the venom would kill me. Glaring into his cold, threatening eyes, I swallowed the bitter pill. The uncontrollable urge to spout nonsense finally faded. He stood there for a few minutes, making sure I wasn’t having any secondary reactions, before turning to leave. Right as his hand hit the doorknob, he paused. He asked if I really didn’t have anything to say to him. He wasn’t stupid. He definitely realized I had reincarnated too. Yet, since the moment I woke up in this life, I had not spoken a single word to him. I closed my eyes, leaning back against the headboard, and told him no. He gave me one last, piercing look before shutting the door. After that incident, my reputation in Silverpine was permanently destroyed. Every time I stepped outside, people openly called me the ugly, manipulative psycho. I disappeared from the public eye for a few weeks. The rumor mill decided I had run away out of pure shame. But shortly after, I walked right back into town. Under Gabriel’s divine care, Kelen was practically glowing. Her beauty had taken on an unnatural, mesmerizing quality. Seeing me walk through the front door, she patronizingly patted my shoulder. She told me she knew I was bitter, but that part of growing up was accepting my own flaws. She lectured me about publicly framing her, calling it a toxic trait. She told me I couldn’t covet things that didn’t belong to me, explicitly stating that Gabriel’s love for her was out of my control. I grabbed her wrist and shoved her back. Kelen let out a delicate gasp, conveniently tripping right into Gabriel’s arms just as he walked into the foyer. Her eyes instantly filled with tears. She sobbed, asking why I couldn’t just accept her attempts to welcome me home. Gabriel’s face darkened. He pulled her firmly behind his back, acting like a knight defending his maiden, and ordered me to apologize. I just stood there and laughed in his face. His expression turned incredibly hostile. He told me that if I had a problem, I should take it out on him. He said romantic feelings couldn’t be forced, and that choosing Kelen was his decision alone. He warned me to stop pretending I didn’t care while secretly plotting against her. Before I could tell him where to shove his ego, a loud commotion erupted outside our window. A convoy of sleek black SUVs pulled into our driveway. A highly decorated official from the Federal Arcane Council stepped out, holding a gilded folder and grinning from ear to ear. He marched up to our porch and announced congratulations for Miss Morgan. He declared I had scored perfectly on the National Arcane Trials, catching the attention of the Supreme Magus himself, who was officially summoning me to the Capitol. Kelen screamed. She asked how a nobody like me could have secretly taken the highest magical exams in the country. 5 I smirked, looking her up and down. I pointed out that while she was busy engineering petty high school drama, she completely missed the federal mandate opening the exams to independent scholars. I walked past Gabriel, letting a cold smile touch my lips. I told him he was dead wrong. I told him he was never my endgame, and throwing him away was the easiest thing I had ever done. I whispered that compared to carving out a legendary legacy, his little romance meant absolutely nothing to me. Gabriel stopped breathing. He stared at me in pure, unfiltered shock. In our past life, I had rejected every wealthy suitor in the state just to keep him by my side. Now, I was dropping him like a bad habit without breaking a sweat. His brain couldn’t process it. But I wasn’t going to waste another second catering to his fragile ego. As I reached out to accept the official decree, Kelen moved forward out of pure jealousy, trying to touch the gilded folder. I swiftly stepped aside, dodging her hand. I asked her if she forgot her place. The Council official’s friendly demeanor instantly vanished. He glared at Kelen with lethal authority. He barked that a federal decree touched by the Supreme Magus was not meant for the filthy hands of an unranked civilian, and ordered her to bow her head immediately. Kelen’s eyes burned bright red. Under the crushing magical pressure of a federal enforcer, she humiliatingly sank to her knees. The official turned back to me, his face melting back into a sycophantic smile. He practically begged me to arrive at the Capitol by the seventh of next month, promising the government would cover all travel expenses. He gushed that shaking up the entire Council on my first try meant I was destined for a seat on the High Board, and begged me not to forget the little guys when I made it big. He pressed a heavy velvet bag filled with solid gold coins into my hands. The entire neighborhood watched this unfold in stunned silence. A few of the locals who had insulted me actually slapped themselves across the face, terrified I would use my new federal authority to wipe them out.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420108”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

A fever had me in a daze, my head thick and heavy, when the doorbell suddenly rang. The delivery guy’s voice came through the door, announcing a delivery for a Mr. Cole. I took the bag and thanked him, a small smile playing on my lips. I’d only told Cole about my fever before bed, and here he was, already sending medicine. But when I opened the bag, I froze. Inside were condoms, lube, and a toy that made my head spin. I had just pulled out my phone to demand an explanation when a new text message popped up. It was from the Disneyland Resort, confirming Mr. Cole’s reservation at the Pixar Place Hotel. 1 My heart clenched. Staring at the confirmation, I numbly opened my text thread with Cole. Just half an hour ago, he’d sent me a video to check in. “Babe, even when you’re not here, I’m being a good boy for you.” “Miss you, babe.” “Babe, this is the hotel I’m staying in tonight. I’ll bring you back a present when I’m home tomorrow.” I hadn’t watched the video then, but now my fingers trembled as I pressed play. My heart pounded like a drum, the seconds ticking by as Cole panned the camera around the hotel room, showing me every corner. His voice, laced with a smile, floated from the speaker. “It’s a king-sized bed tonight, babe. But if you were here, I’d definitely have gotten us a suite…” I paused the video. Zooming in on the image, my eyes caught a glimpse of a heating pad on the nightstand. Disbelief washed over me. I took a screenshot and ran an image search on Amazon. The exact same one popped up. And just like that, I shattered. I sank onto the rug, my gaze hollow as I stared at the home we’d built, at the condoms and the sex toy on the coffee table. I remembered him complaining right before he left for his business trip, “I hate traveling for work. All I want to do is cuddle with my wife.” I remembered his video call right after his plane landed, whining, “The food on the plane was terrible, not nearly as good as yours.” I’d laughed at how childish he was, how the cutthroat CEO I knew from the business world turned into a big kid in front of me. He’d just smiled and said, “Around you, I get to be a kid again.” But that same man, my Cole… He was cheating on me. Numbly, I dialed his number. He picked up almost instantly, his voice carrying the heavy breathlessness of someone who had just been… exerting himself. “Babe, what’s wrong?” His tone was as gentle as ever, no different from any other day. But tears were already streaming down my face. “Cole,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Would you ever betray me?” I choked back a sob, forcing the question out again. “Would you ever betray me?” The tears fell freely now. I could hear a rustling sound in the background on his end, the unmistakable sound of someone else moving. Before Cole could answer, I heard him let out a low groan—a sound I knew all too well. It was the sound of arousal. An overwhelming wave of betrayal crashed over me. A violent nausea churned in my stomach, and I lurched to my feet, barely making it to the bathroom before I started retching. The mere thought of that scene was suffocating. Through my own heaving, I could hear Cole trying to mask his own state, his voice now a concerned, husky whisper. “Babe, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” “Are you still feeling sick?” After a moment of silence, he said, “I’ll be back as soon as I’m done here tomorrow. Don’t worry, okay? I’ve got to run, something just came up.” The sound of the toilet flushing drowned out the end of his sentence. By the time I wiped the tears from my face, he had already hung up. I stared at our chat history, then at the box on the coffee table, its contents a searing indictment. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Then, laughing through my tears, I called my best friend. “Jess? Don’t you have a friend who works at Disneyland?” I cut straight to the chase. “Cole’s cheating on me.” “He’s at Disneyland,” I told her, my voice flat. “I need to know what kind of person he’d throw away ten years of marriage for.” I hung up the phone. I sat in the living room all night. I didn’t sleep a wink. Finally, a message from Jess came through. At the exact same moment, another one arrived from Cole: “Babe, I booked a flight for tonight. I’ll be home to make you some soup. Take care of yourself!” Below it was an emoji: [love you.] Then, I opened the file Jess had sent. It was a picture, taken this morning, of Cole and a young woman leaving a hotel together. Another photo showed them at the park, using a VIP entrance. Jess was furious in her message. “That bastard is actually cheating! Is he even human? Where would he be without you?!” I couldn’t process her words. I just stared at the picture of the girl, a strange sense of familiarity creeping over me. My heart skipped a beat. I frantically scrolled through my contacts, my eyes landing on a familiar selfie. I tapped open the chat. There was only one message, from six months ago. The girl had added me and sent me a small amount of money with a note: [This is for your troubles, miss.] I froze. I clicked on her social media profile and saw a new post from today. [My crush is treating me like a princess!] The photo was of her holding a bouquet of balloons, her smile radiant. It was a well-taken shot; the photographer had captured her perfectly. I scrolled down. A post from last night: a picture from inside a hotel room, of her cuddling up to a man’s arm, winking playfully at the camera. [He told me he’s loved me all along.] Further down. [He said yes! Officially mine! Congrats to me, hehe.] The picture was of their hands, fingers intertwined. And then, I scrolled further. The date stamp was from the day I miscarried. [My crush said nothing is more important than me. I’ll always be his number one priority.] The photo was of her on an IV drip, a man’s hand clutching hers tightly. Every post was a monument to their sweet, budding romance. But that hand… I had looked at that hand for nearly a decade. The scar on the back of it was too distinct. A scar he got because of me. If it weren’t for that. The stabbing pain in my heart was unbearable. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that Cole and I had come to this. A video from Jess’s friend came through with a message: “Should I keep following them?” I was already in the car, on my way to the airport to meet Jess. I told her friend to stay on them. Of course, I had to see. I had to know why the trip to Disneyland I’d been asking for, the one Cole never had time for, was suddenly possible for someone else. On the plane, my mind raced. I imagined storming up to them and slapping him. I imagined a screaming match with the girl, forcing Cole to choose. I imagined calmly walking up to him and telling him I wanted a divorce. In the end, I did none of those things. Jess’s friend got me through a side entrance, and I found myself standing near the carousel. And there he was. Cole, holding a camera, a gentle smile on his face as he filmed the girl. She blew him a heart-shaped kiss, and he, in turn, made the same gesture back—a gesture he’d never once made for me. The girl, sitting atop a white horse, shouted, “Cole, I love you!” She yelled, “I love you more than anyone in this world!” And I heard Cole’s voice, clear as day, call back. “I’ll love you too. Always.” I stood there, hidden behind sunglasses, a mask, and a hat, less than three feet away from them. I felt like a thief, spying on someone else’s happiness, listening to the man who had shared my bed for a decade declare his undying love for another woman. And I was nothing but an outsider. My fingers trembled until they were numb, the feeling spreading to my chest, where it felt as if a dull blade was being forced into my heart, twisting and tearing until all the warmth bled out, leaving only a dry, gaping wound. Tears blurred my vision. My body was shaking uncontrollably. Just as Jess was about to charge at them, I grabbed her arm and dialed Cole’s number. I watched him pull out his phone, glance at the screen, and then look back at the girl who was now getting off the carousel. He declined the call. Once. Twice. A third time. The girl walked over to him. “Who was that?” Then, she saw my name on the screen and her face soured. “Aren’t you ever going to divorce her?” she pouted. “If you don’t, I’ll always be the other woman, hiding in the shadows. Cole, I don’t want to be a mistress. I don’t!” Her voice rose to a whine. I watched Cole decline my call again, then pull the girl into a hug. “Okay, okay, my little princess. How could you ever be a mistress? You’re the treasure of my heart.” “Then what is she?” Cole fell silent, and my own heart squeezed tight. Yes, what was I? I held my breath, waiting. Then I heard Cole’s voice, dismissive and casual. “We’ve been together for ten years. There’s been nothing between us for a long time. It’s just… obligation. And after she lost the baby, I felt guilty.” “But I promise you,” Cole said, his voice firm. “Before your birthday, I will be in your social media posts, officially. How does that sound?” The girl beamed, throwing her arms around him and planting a loud, wet kiss on his cheek. The sound hit me like a sledgehammer, crushing the last sliver of hope I had for him. As they were leaving, Cole sent me a text to explain himself: [Babe, I’m still in a meeting. I’ll call you back when I’m done.] Then I watched him put his phone away and follow the girl back to their hotel. A little while later, she posted again, truly a princess in her castle. The photo was of her wearing a tiara, holding out her hand as a man kissed the back of it. Even without his face showing, the sweetness was palpable. Her caption read: [My crush promised me the most amazing birthday party ever… He’s going to make me a real princess!] I looked at her post and let out a sharp, mocking laugh. Then I took a picture of the Disneyland castle and posted it myself. [Ten years together, and you’re still the one by my side.] The picture was of me and Jess, smiling together. It didn’t even take a minute. Cole’s call came through. He sounded frantic. “Babe, you’re in L.A.? Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was tight with anxiety. When I didn’t answer, he grew more agitated, his eyes darting around as if he was terrified of spotting me. He was testing the waters. “I thought we were going to come to Disneyland together. Why did you go by yourself?” I found it hilarious. I had asked him to take me at least five times, and every time, he had an excuse, always leaving me with a vague, “Later,” or “Some other time.” He always said, “Babe, we have all the time in the world. I want to work hard now while we’re young, to build a better future for us.” And I actually believed he loved me. Maybe he did, once. But love can curdle. Over time, it can collect filth and rot, spawning uncertainties that lead to days like today. “Babe,” Cole said, so preoccupied that he ignored the girl who was tugging at his arm. He walked out of the hotel, scanning the area. “Why aren’t you talking to me?” “Babe, do you want me to come pick you up?” I watched him scurry around like an ant on a hot pan, savoring the sight for a moment before I calmly told him, “No, that’s not necessary.” I didn’t tell him when I was coming back, like I usually would have. I didn’t ask when he was coming home, either. He was the one to ask. “So, are you coming home today?” The panic in his voice was unmistakable. “Or are you staying in L.A. for the night?” I glanced at him from my vantage point and said with a small smile, “We’ll see.” I hung up and watched as Cole, visibly on edge, bundled the girl into a car and drove off. I was in a car right behind them. The taxi I was in wasn’t a coincidence; it was my arrangement. I had a clear view of the girl throwing a tantrum in the passenger seat. “You’re still scared of her, aren’t you?” “So what if she’s here? Is she going to eat us?” Cole didn’t know he was being watched. He simply silenced her with a kiss. After they landed, I followed them. He dropped the girl off at an apartment, and I realized with a jolt that it was a property we had bought right after we got married. It had been sitting empty all this time, or so I thought. I never knew he was using it as a love nest. I watched Cole return to our home. He sat in the living room, staring blankly at the box of condoms I hadn’t moved. Then, as if remembering something, a look of horror crossed his face. He snatched his phone and frantically dialed the girl’s number. Through the security camera feed on my phone, I watched him interrogating her. I heard her sobbing on the other end, and I heard Cole’s voice soften as he tried to comfort her. “Even if she knows, it doesn’t matter. We were going to have to face it sooner or later.” He was right. Sooner or later, we would have to face it. So when Cole called me, I was at a hotel, finalizing plans.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420107”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

While I was delivering food at the mall, I watched in horror as my daughter tumbled down a long flight of stairs, her leg bone snapping on impact. The agony bleached her small face white. I was about to scoop her up and call 911 when a scalding hot latte drenched my head. “You filthy charity case! Stealing in broad daylight!” a heavily pregnant woman shrieked, ripping the birthday necklace from my daughter’s neck. Her posse of friends jeered and laughed. “You dare touch something that belongs to the Stone family? Do you have any idea who this is? Sophia Bell, fiancée of Mr. Stone, the CEO of Stone Corporation!” I wiped the sticky latte from my face, my voice as cold as a winter frost. “Stone?” Sophia jutted out her stomach proudly. “The richest family in New York! Cross me, and you and this little brat are dead.” How interesting. Of the two Mr. Stones at Stone Corporation, one is my husband, and the other is my son. … I immediately pulled out my phone and dialed my son, Adam. “You and your father get your asses down to the Grand Atrium right now.” If that little punk knew how to admit he was wrong and could learn to control his power-tripping little girlfriend, I wasn’t entirely against letting this Sophia girl into our family. But Adam’s voice on the other end was impatient, laced with accusation. “Mom, can you not cause drama? I told you, Dad and I are swamped right now. We don’t have time for your games.” My face hardened. “If I don’t see you in twenty minutes,” I said, my voice dangerously low, “I swear I’ll take a sledgehammer to every single one of your new toys in the garage.” Adam cherished the Rolls-Royce in that garage more than life itself. He wouldn’t risk a single scratch on his precious car. The second I hung up, the crowd around me erupted in laughter. “Hahahaha! Calling her husband and son? It’s the middle of the day, don’t you have deliveries to make? Wouldn’t want to interrupt your pathetic, minimum-wage-earning husband!” “A family of bums. You could deliver food for the rest of your lives and you still couldn’t afford a single gem on Sophia’s necklace!” Monica had fallen from so high. Her little body was a mess of fractures, bruised and swollen. She was so small, the pain robbing her of the ability to even speak properly. She curled into my arms like a kitten. “Mommy… it hurts…” I fought down the inferno of rage building inside me and lifted my fading daughter, heading for the exit. Saving my child was the priority. I’d settle the score with Adam and Sophia later. But I’d only taken two steps when a stiletto heel dug into the small of my back. I stumbled on the polished floor, losing my grip, and we both went flying. “Ah!” A sickening thud echoed through the atrium. My vision went black as my forehead slammed into the sharp marble edge of a step. A warm gush of blood erupted from my brow, the thick, metallic scent filling my senses as it streamed down my face. Before I could even catch my breath, Sophia’s foot pressed my head to the ground. “You thieving bitch! Trying to run?” Monica had been thrown from my arms, her tiny body hitting the floor with a dull, heavy sound. “Mmm… Mommy!” Her face was chalk-white as she desperately tried to crawl back to me. Her trembling little hands feebly slapped at Sophia’s leg. “Bad… bad lady! Don’t… don’t step on my mommy…” Sophia bent down and yanked Monica up by her hair. She raised her hand. Crack! Crack! Crack! Three sharp slaps echoed in the cavernous space. “You little bitch! You dare to hit me?” Monica’s cheeks instantly swelled, her lip splitting open. Blood and saliva trickled down her chin, staining her little white dress crimson. My vision turned red. Ignoring the searing pain in my forehead, I scrambled forward and snatched my daughter back. “Stop it!” I roared. “You’re pregnant, you’re going to be a mother yourself! Have some goddamn decency!” Sophia just laughed, a cruel, mocking sound, as she stroked her swollen belly. “You think trash like you is even worthy of being compared to the noble Stone heir in my womb?” She tilted her chin up, and then, she kicked. A sharp, brutal kick aimed right at Monica, who was twitching in my arms. “No!” A desperate scream tore from my throat. I threw myself over her, trying to shield her with my body. But I was too late. Monica’s cry of pain was a knife twisting in my ear. The rage that had been simmering in my gut erupted, incinerating every last shred of my reason. I stared at Sophia’s distorted face and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. “Sophia Bell! For what you’ve done today, you will never set foot in the Stone family home!” “Even if Adam gets on his knees and begs until his head bleeds, the Stones will never accept a venomous snake like you as a daughter-in-law!” I was shaking with fury. I fumbled for my cracked phone and dialed 911. “Hello? 911…” Sophia’s eyes narrowed. She lunged forward, kicking the phone from my grasp. She brought her heel down, stomping on my hand and the phone beneath it. The stiletto’s sharp point drove into the back of my hand. A sickening crunch of bone echoed, and a blinding, all-consuming pain shot through my entire body. The agony was so intense, every limb trembled. “Aaaargh!!!” I screamed. As if to make sure the phone was completely destroyed, Sophia ground her heel into it, twisting. The sharp agony of bone and flesh separating made a cold sweat break out across my back. The screen under her heel went black. The pain was so excruciating I was convulsing, on the verge of passing out. But Sophia just stood over me, her belly prominent, looking down as if I were an insect. “You dare call the cops? Even if they came, they’d just make you and your little thief pay for my necklace.” She kicked me again. “You old hag, worrying about whether I’ll marry into the Stone family? Save it.” “Worry about how you’re going to pay me back for my necklace!” “It was custom-made in Italy! The repair costs alone are more than you’ll ever make in your miserable life!” Her eyes raked over me with a malicious contempt, as if I were garbage. “Maybe you should quit the delivery gig. Go clean yourself up and sell that body of yours. At your age, tsk, tsk, you could work yourself to death and probably still not pay it off!” The fawning voices of her friends immediately chimed in. “Sophia, you’re giving her too much credit. She looks like she’s over thirty. Who’d want that old hag?” “I wouldn’t pay two bucks for her. I wouldn’t even let her warm my feet for free, she’s too bony!” “Hahahaha! You never know, maybe she could find some business with the old men under the bridge!” The vile, degrading insults rained down on me. In all my years as Eleanor Vance, a titan of the business world, I had never faced such humiliation. I fought to control the rage coursing through my veins. I gritted my teeth, holding my daughter’s bruised, faintly breathing body, and looked at the crowd. My voice was a raw, bloody whisper as I pleaded. “My daughter didn’t steal anything. Please, someone, call 911, call an ambulance.” “She’s only four. She can’t take much more of this. Nothing is more important than a human life!” But no one moved. Sophia’s friends watched with cold indifference, their faces a mixture of mockery and disgust. “She’s just some delivery driver. Her life is worthless. She pissed off Sophia, she deserves to die.” “Stop wailing, it’s so depressing.” Sophia raised her chin, smugly toying with the family heirloom bracelet on her wrist. She looked down at me with a show of “mercy,” her smile poisonous. “Lick the filthy blood of you and your daughter off the floor. Lick it clean, and then I’ll call an ambulance for her. How about that?” The crowd buzzed with excitement, eagerly chiming in. “Yeah! Lick it clean! Like a dog!” “This is a nice mall! They’ve made it all dirty with their blood!” Their unified support for Sophia’s cruelty sent my heart plunging into an icy abyss. For Monica… I lowered my head, tears of humiliation mixing with the blood on my face. I stared at the glaring red puddle on the floor, a mixture of my blood and Monica’s. Swallowing the overwhelming shame, I began to lower myself, trembling. The metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils. Just as my lips were about to touch the filth, a commotion erupted from the crowd. “It’s the young Mr. Stone! From Stone Corporation!” The crowd parted abruptly. A tall, well-built young man strode forward, flanked by several bodyguards in black suits. It was that damn kid, Adam. He’d only been working his summer internship for a few weeks, but he’d certainly mastered the grand entrance. The tension in my body instantly gave way. I collapsed to the floor, all my strength gone, still clutching Monica. Sophia scurried towards him like a frightened rabbit. “Adam!” Her voice trembled as she pointed a finger at me and Monica, clutching her stomach. Before Sophia could say a word, her sycophantic friends, their eyes gleaming, rushed to tattle on her behalf. “Mr. Stone! It’s that old woman and her brat!” “They stole Miss Bell’s necklace!” “They wouldn’t admit it even when they were caught! They were so aggressive! They almost hurt Miss Bell!” “That old bitch even tried to call the cops and frame Miss Bell!” Adam’s gaze swept over us, cold and detached. There wasn’t a flicker of emotion in his eyes. He placed a protective hand on Sophia’s belly, smiling at her with an almost fawning tenderness. “Don’t be angry, sweetheart.” “Why lower yourself to their level? Getting upset and hurting yourself and the baby, that’s what really matters.” I suppose Monica and I were such a wreck that the little bastard didn’t even recognize his own mother. He only had eyes for Sophia, who was pouting and playing the victim. “But my necklace…” “What’s one necklace?” Without hesitation, Adam pulled a card from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. It was the supplementary black card his father had given him for his eighteenth birthday just a few days ago. He casually pressed it into Sophia’s hand, his voice indulgent. “Take this. Go buy ten new ones. As long as you’re happy, spend whatever you want.” A chorus of envious gasps rippled through the crowd. “Mr. Stone is so good to Miss Bell!” “Oh my god! Is that a no-limit card? Miss Bell is so lucky!” The flattery was enough to make anyone’s head spin. Sophia’s chin climbed even higher. She shot me a look brimming with venomous triumph and the promise of revenge. I almost laughed. This wet-behind-the-ears punk was playing the part of a domineering CEO. “Adam, they’re so disgusting. I can’t stand to look at them. Get rid of them, will you?” Adam didn’t even bother to look at us again. He gave a cold, dismissive wave of his hand. Two large bodyguards immediately moved forward. They grabbed me as if I were a chicken, their grip rough. The hand that Sophia had stomped on was twisted, the bones shifting again. The pain was so intense my vision swam with black spots. “Drag them away!” Adam barked at the bodyguards. “Don’t let them offend Sophia’s eyes.” Sophia smirked, her eyes raking over my battered body and Monica’s small, pale face. “They look so pitiful and poor. Why don’t we send them to Southeast Asia?” “The old one won’t be worth much, but if you raise the little one for a few years, you could make a good return on your investment.” She wanted to sell us into the sex trade. She wouldn’t even spare a four-year-old child. Where in the hell did this little monster Adam find such a psychopathic, evil girlfriend? “Fine,” Adam said, nodding without a second thought, as if he were merely disposing of two pieces of trash. “Do as Miss Bell says.” The bodyguards grabbed me, dragging the unconscious Monica, and began to haul us away. The crowd of onlookers parted to let them through. Rage flooded my vision. I had never, in my entire life, imagined that the son I had raised for eighteen years could be so monstrous. Just as they dragged me past Adam, I summoned every ounce of strength I had left and broke free. I raised my left hand, the one Sophia hadn’t broken. CRACK! The sound of my hand connecting with his handsome face echoed through the silent mall. The entire atrium fell silent. Everyone froze, a look of shock plastered on their faces. I stood before Adam, my hair a mess, my body covered in blood, my chest heaving with rage. “You bitch! How dare you hit the young Mr. Stone!” Sophia’s shrill voice screeched. I shot her a murderous glare, my voice as sharp as a blade, holding nothing back. “I hit him. So what? Say one more word, and I’ll hit you too.” Adam heard my voice, truly saw my blood-streaked face, and the color drained from his. He stared at my disheveled state, his mouth hanging open wide enough to fit an egg. He clutched his face, his lips trembling. The word “Mom” was caught in his throat, unspoken. Sophia was stunned for a second, then shrieked at me. “This is treason! Bodyguards! Chop off her hands!” Adam snapped back to reality, his eyes wide with a frantic, ghost-like terror. “Shut up!” he suddenly roared, cutting Sophia off. I was seething, my chest heaving. “Adam Stone! Just you wait until we get home! I’m going to skin you alive!” Adam’s expression shifted rapidly. He shot me a quick, pleading look filled with guilt. “Sophia! It’s a misunderstanding! A complete misunderstanding!” He took a deep breath and forced a laugh. “She’s not a stranger! She’s, uh, our family’s maid! She’s been with us since I was a kid! She has a bit of a temper… For my sake, let’s just drop it today, okay?” He turned and yelled at the bodyguards. “What are you standing around for? Get the maid’s daughter to a hospital! Now!” Sophia eyed me with suspicion and unconcealed contempt. “Don’t you dare take her to a hospital. She’s just a servant, and a thieving one at that. The brat she raised is a thief too.” The two of them were making my head spin. All the blood in my body was rushing to my head. Adam Stone! What a fine son I had raised! I clenched my fists, about to explode. Adam suddenly stepped closer, hissing in a frantic whisper only I could hear. “Mom! Mom, I’m begging you! Don’t embarrass me! I’m the young Mr. Stone now. In front of all these people… I can’t lose face…” Beside him, Sophia stood with her arms crossed, her chin so high it could pierce the ceiling. Her words were sharp and cruel. “Just because you worked as a maid for a few years, you think you can get away with hitting your master and stealing? Who gave you the nerve?” “Drag this old bitch and her little thief into a corner. I don’t want them ruining my view.” Adam was panicked and angry, but he opened his mouth and said nothing to stop her. That was it. I snapped. I would have been better off giving birth to a sack of potatoes. At least I could eat potatoes. All he knew how to do was abandon his mother for his new girlfriend, letting this bitch try to kill me and his own sister. Even if Sophia were an angel descended from heaven, a princess from some foreign land, she would never be my daughter-in-law.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420106”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The overseas evacuation in the Sahel region years ago left an indelible scar on my soul. When the local government collapsed, everyone assumed Jeffrey would give the final seat on the extraction chopper to me. Instead, he fled into the night with another woman, leaving behind nothing but a few hollow excuses. He claimed she was fragile. He said the sight of mutilated bodies in the combat zone would break her mind, that she needed safety more than I did. He told me I was tough. He said I could definitely hold out until the next rescue convoy arrived. He even promised that once he got her to a safe house, he would come back to bring me home so we could get married. But the rebel militia overran the compound hours later. The slaughter was absolute. I hid in a trench filled with the dead, the soil turning to muddy crimson beneath me. My wounds burned with a blinding agony. I waited until all hope bled out of me, but his shadow never appeared. Years later, our paths finally crossed again. When Jeffrey saw the diamond resting on my ring finger, his eyes instantly flushed red. He demanded to know why. He asked how I dared to marry another man when I had promised to wait for him. 1 Six years after I crawled out of hell. The first time I heard Jeffrey’s name again was in the arrivals terminal at JFK Airport. Standing by the baggage carousel, the girl waiting next to me stole her fifth glance in my direction before finally leaning in. “Harper?” she whispered, her voice hesitant. I turned my head, raising an eyebrow. Seeing my face, she grabbed my arm with pure excitement. “Oh my god, it really is you! Harper!” “The story of you and Jeffrey is practically a legend among the Coalition Forces. I can’t believe I am meeting you in person. You are gorgeous.” She started rambling about the past. Six years ago, the Sahel region descended into total anarchy. The airports and seaports were locked down. All comms were jammed. We were completely cut off from the world. The rumor going around the ranks was that Jeffrey wasn’t even the diplomat assigned to the evacuation. People believed he defied his superiors and risked his life in a warzone specifically to save his girlfriend, Harper. Her eyes welled up with tears as she spoke. “Back then, every single one of us was so jealous that you got on that first chopper out.” The atrocities in that warzone defied human comprehension. The local warlords had set up fake humanitarian aid stations, luring refugees out of the safe zones only to gun them down in the dirt. Her voice trembled. “There were bodies everywhere. The riverbanks were literally dyed red. You have no idea how terrified I was.” A phantom pain flared in the old bullet scar on my lower abdomen. Of course I knew. I knew exactly what it felt like to stare down the barrel of a loaded rifle. Suddenly, her face lit up again. “You and Jeffrey must be married by now, right? I bet you guys even have kids.” Looking at her envious, starry-eyed expression, a cold wave of irony washed over me. Even now, people still believed I was the woman Jeffrey carried onto that helicopter. Before I could figure out how to shut the conversation down, my phone buzzed. Feeling a wave of relief, I muttered an apology and walked away. I tapped the screen, and a deep, velvety voice filled my ear. “Did you land safely?” “Yeah.” “What is wrong? You sound upset.” Even after being together for so long, his intuition never failed to amaze me. A single syllable was all it took for him to read my mood. “I bought you a welcome home present. I will come find you as soon as I finish my meetings.” A location pin popped up on my screen. The Rosewood Estate? I had casually mentioned once that I loved the historic architecture and the private botanical gardens there. The dark clouds in my mind instantly cleared. I smiled and pulled my car out of the airport lot. I never could have predicted that the estate would be crawling with the exact people I never wanted to see again. 2 Pushing open the heavy mahogany doors, a wave of loud chatter and clinking glasses hit me. The Rosewood Estate had been bought at a private auction. It was my personal property now. Why was there a cocktail party happening in the foyer? I scanned the room in confusion. My eyes locked onto a man sitting at the center of the VIP lounge, surrounded by a crowd of kissing-up executives. It was Jeffrey. He looked much more polished now, wearing a bespoke suit, but he still carried that same aloof, self-righteous aura. “Mr. Jeffrey, we really owe you. If you hadn’t pulled strings with Mr. Castello’s secretary, we never would have known the boss was flying back to the States tonight.” Mr. Jeffrey? So Jeffrey had completely abandoned his diplomatic career just to play corporate lapdog for Bonnie’s family. Another guest chimed in. “I heard the only reason Mr. Castello is shifting his syndicate’s focus back to New York is because his wife missed home.” “Exactly! He literally dropped a hundred and fifty million on this Rosewood Estate just for her. I even brought a custom aquamarine jewelry set tonight. I just hope Mrs. Castello likes it.” “Who knows? Mr. Castello protects his wife like a hawk. Barely anyone knows what she looks like, let alone what she likes.” So this was a networking ambush. They were all trying to get a slice of the Castello Group’s billions. But Arthur, my husband’s secretary, had really dropped the ball this time. Silas and I had not even spent a single night in this house yet, and these vultures were already ruining the peace. I wondered exactly how much bribe money Arthur had pocketed to let them in. Jeffrey’s gaze drifted over the crowd and landed on me. The moment he recognized my face, the charismatic smile froze on his lips. His expression shattered into absolute shock, followed by a storm of complicated emotions. After a suffocating silence, he walked toward me like a man seeing a ghost. “Harper… you are alive.” His tone was heavy with relief. The guilt that must have been eating at him for years finally evaporated now that he knew I had not died in the dirt. How hilariously pathetic. A decade ago, Jeffrey and I were deployed to the Sahel region together. Back then, I used to lean against the clinic window, secretly watching him run drills with the peacekeeping troops. He would always invent terrible excuses just to walk past my medical tent. Eventually, even his military dog would wag its tail frantically whenever it saw me, literally dragging Jeffrey by the pant leg to my triage station. Then came the day the local militia surrounded the hospital. To buy time for the critically wounded to evacuate, I volunteered to stay behind as a hostage. Suddenly, a hand grabbed my collar and yanked me backward. Jeffrey, bleeding heavily from a shrapnel wound, stood tall and shielded me. “I am a soldier. I am far more valuable to you than this medic.” The warlord did not care. They tied us both up and threw us into a bombed-out trench. When the machine-gun fire started, Jeffrey threw his body over mine without a second thought. Hot tears dripped from his face onto my neck. “If we make it out of this alive… Harper, promise you will marry me.” Later, he was reassigned to a neighboring country as a lead diplomat. I stayed behind with the frontline medical unit. I truly believed we were different from other long-distance couples. I thought we were bulletproof. That was until Jeffrey was tasked with mentoring his superior’s daughter, Bonnie. He used to call me just to complain about her. “Harper, she is seriously so incompetent. I have to stay up until 2 AM helping her fix her reports, and then she forces me to take her out for midnight snacks.” “Harper, she is nothing like you. She is so needy. She got a mild fever last night and cried until I sat with her in the ER.” Eventually, I called him out on Bonnie’s blatant boundary-crossing. At first, he apologized. But soon, his apologies turned into annoyance. He accused me of being paranoid and asked why I was so threatened by a harmless young girl. I tried to swallow my doubts and keep the relationship alive. But then the border conflict exploded. Bonnie and I were both trapped in the hot zone. And Jeffrey, the man in charge of the evacuation chopper, physically shoved me away. 3 His voice had dripped with blame. “You have survived in combat zones for years. Bonnie is different! She is fragile. Just looking at a rifle gives her nightmares.” “There is only one seat left on this flight. Are you seriously going to throw a jealous tantrum and let Bonnie die just to prove a point?” I refused to accept it. I chased his dust-covered Jeep down the broken road for miles. I ran until my foot caught on a bloated corpse. I crashed into the gravel, a sharp rock slicing deep into my stomach. I lay there bleeding, screaming in agony. He never looked back. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around Bonnie the entire time. A shrill, grating voice snapped me back to reality. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. Harper.” Noticing Jeffrey staring at me, Bonnie marched over and wrapped her arms possessively around his bicep. She glared at me with blatant hostility and a smug warning. “You vanished off the face of the earth. We all thought you were rotting in a ditch somewhere.” “Jeffrey had to leave you behind to save my life. If you want to hold a grudge, blame me.” She intentionally made her voice crack at the end. That pathetic, innocent victim act always triggered Jeffrey’s savior complex. “Harper, leave her alone.” Jeffrey stepped in front of her. “I do not know how you tracked my schedule or why you stalked me all the way here, but I have moved on.” “You need to leave. The Rosewood Estate is not a place for someone of your status.” Stalked him? If a certain someone heard that, he would flip this city upside down looking for answers. If Silas dug up my history with Jeffrey, I would be dealing with a wildly jealous mafia boss for the next six months. Hearing Jeffrey defend her, Bonnie relaxed. A vicious, mocking smile spread across her face. “Oh, come on, Jeffrey. She dragged herself all the way here to see you. The least we can do is catch up.” She exchanged a nasty look with her group of wealthy girlfriends. They grabbed their champagne flutes and circled around me like vultures. “Harper, after that evacuation, the entire region went completely dark. The coalition forces pulled out. How exactly does a girl like you survive in a place crawling with bloodthirsty cartels?” She heavily emphasized the word “survive,” causing the other women to cover their mouths and giggle. A woman in a tight red dress rolled her eyes in absolute disgust. “Ugh, please. We all know what those warlords do to cheap foreign girls. In peacetime, women like her sell themselves for a cup of coffee. In a warzone? She definitely spent her nights on her knees just to get a ration bar.” The girl next to her gently slapped her arm, putting on a tone of exaggerated pity. “Oh, stop it! She didn’t have a choice.” “Not everyone is as blessed as Bonnie. Not everyone gets a billionaire fiancé who loves her enough to risk his life.” “Harper, you are totally used up. You hit rock bottom, and now you are here trying to latch back onto Mr. Jeffrey? Do you have any self-respect?” Bonnie scoffed, swirling the champagne in her glass. She looked at me with a sickening mix of fake pity and utter contempt. “You did take care of Jeffrey for a little while back then. I guess I should thank you for your service.” “I am a very nostalgic person. If our merger with the Castello Group goes well tonight, I will save a janitorial spot for you at the new headquarters. The pay is trash, but at least the work is clean. It is definitely a step up from your previous… activities.” She dragged out the last word, letting the implication hang in the air. Her friends immediately chimed in. “Bonnie, you are way too innocent! She is probably so used to doing dirty work in the desert that she actually prefers it.” Jeffrey stood there in complete silence. His knuckles turned white around his whiskey glass, and the look he gave me was laced with profound disappointment. Disappointment? He had fought in those trenches with me. He knew better than anyone in this room what reality looked like. He knew exactly what the medics and peacekeepers sacrificed for that bleeding country. They dragged civilians out of crossfire. They built triage centers in the middle of plague zones. Yet he stood there, watching Bonnie degrade me and every single soldier who bled on that sand, and he said absolutely nothing. All those years chasing money and status in the corporate world had completely rotted his soul. 4 Seeing my face remain completely emotionless, Bonnie and her entourage got bored. They rolled their eyes and turned to leave. Click. The sharp sound of my digital recorder echoing in the quiet room stopped them dead in their tracks. I pressed playback. Their vicious, venomous insults played out loud and clear. Bonnie’s face dropped. “Harper, are you insane? Delete that right now!” I spoke, my voice eerily calm. “I am going to forward this audio to the board. The Castello Group will never do business with a single person standing in this room.” Bonnie panicked for a split second before sneering. “What the hell are you talking about?” “I am saying the Castello Group, and this Rosewood Estate, belong to me. Now get the hell out of my house.” The bustling, noisy room went dead silent. Every single executive and socialite turned to look at me like I belonged in a psychiatric ward. Bonnie broke the silence with a loud, mocking laugh. “Harper, have you completely lost your mind?” “Jeffrey and I are top-tier elites in this city, and even we could not get a direct meeting with Mr. Castello! We had to bribe his secretary just to find out he was bringing his wife here tonight.” “We are literally confined to the guest lounge because we are too scared to trespass, and you think you can just waltz in here and claim you own the Castello empire? You are going to get yourself killed.” Right at that moment, the heavy double doors of the lounge swung open. A middle-aged man in a sharp, tailored suit walked in. The crowd gasped. It was Arthur, the legendary right-hand man to Silas Castello. The executives instantly morphed into groveling sycophants. They swarmed him, bowing and smiling. Jeffrey quickly fixed his tie and practically sprinted over, extending both hands. “Arthur! Thank you so much for making the trip.” “Do you know what time Mr. and Mrs. Castello will be arriving? We want to make sure the reception is absolutely perfect.” Jeffrey carefully studied Arthur’s face before tentatively adding his real motive. “And regarding that renewable energy contract I pitched… I would be incredibly grateful if you could put in a good word for me with the boss.” Arthur did not even look at him. He walked straight past Jeffrey, taking the seat at the head of the table, and began flipping through a thick stack of files. The crowd stood in absolute, terrified silence. Their legs were practically shaking by the time Arthur finally spoke. “Mr. Castello has reviewed the proposals.” Bonnie’s face lit up with greedy joy. Her friends immediately started kissing up to her. “With Castello backing, Jeffrey’s company will be worth billions! Bonnie, you are officially a billionaire’s wife!” “I am so jealous! Please don’t forget about us when you are running the city!” Drowning in the flattery, Bonnie’s ego inflated to the size of a blimp. She threw a smug, degrading look at me standing in the corner. “Congratulations, Harper. Like I promised, I will make sure the HR department keeps that janitor closet open for you.” The room was quiet for a second before erupting into a cruel, piercing chorus of laughter. “Bonnie, stop being so nice to her.” “When Harper got left behind to die, her trashy parents actually stormed into the Jeffrey family estate to cause a scene. Jeffrey’s security threw them out into the street. Talk about karma… they got crushed by a truck on their way home.” “Trash breeds trash. She is just a leech. Make sure you don’t let her latch onto your man again.” My breath caught in my throat. It felt like a stick of dynamite had just detonated in my chest. I always thought it was a tragic accident. My parents died because they went looking for me, and Jeffrey threw them to the wolves. Arthur, annoyed by the sudden noise, turned his head. The moment his eyes locked onto my face, the absolute arrogance melted off his features. The thick stack of corporate files slipped from his hands, crashing onto the marble floor. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, sprinting across the room until he was standing right in front of me. He bowed at a strict ninety-degree angle. “M-Madam Castello! I am so sorry, I had no idea you were already here.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420105”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I opened my eyes, I realized I had returned to that day—the day my boyfriend’s childhood sweetheart brought a white tiger cub into our home. The tragedy hadn’t happened yet. I could still stop it. Sienna was obsessed with fantasy novels, convinced she was meant to be a beast tamer. To please her, my boyfriend agreed to keep the cub. In my past life, I’d warned them it was illegal and dangerous—a wild predator didn’t belong in an apartment. I begged them to call a rescue. But the cub was unnaturally intelligent. It understood I wanted it gone and held a vicious grudge. My life became a nightmare. Animal remains and filth appeared on my bed. Then the tiger attacked my mother, infecting her so badly she died. I was consumed with rage, determined to kill it. Instead, Sienna and my boyfriend drugged me and set the tiger free. Five years later, I returned to my childhood home. It was destroyed, a den for over a dozen grown white tigers—led by that same cub. My father lay mauled on the floor. Before I could react, the lead tiger lunged. Its jaws closed on my throat, and everything went dark. 1 “Look at those intelligent eyes. This little guy is definitely going to evolve into a legendary guardian beast.” Sienna held the white tiger cub up by its front legs, shoving it right into my face. A low, guttural growl vibrated in the cub’s throat as its striking eyes locked onto mine with an unsettling thrill. The phantom pain of fangs tearing into my flesh came rushing back. I flinched violently, a cold sweat breaking out across my spine. Sienna just looked at me and let out a mocking laugh. “This tiger is going to be my official Familiar. You guys have to help me raise him right.” I turned my gaze to my boyfriend, Blake. He forced a stiff smile. “Well, if he’s your Familiar, Sienna, then of course we’ll take great care of him.” Right after saying that, he shot me a heavy, pointed look. I simply pretended I didn’t see his pathetic little signal. I shrugged my shoulders. “Sure, I’m on board.” “But since Sienna’s place is way too cramped, we should just keep him here in our new house.” Blake’s face drained of color the second the words left my mouth. He stepped close to me, his voice dropping to an angry, frantic whisper. “What the hell are you doing? You promised me you’d be the one to tell her no!” I let out a cold, cynical laugh in my head. He was too much of a coward to reject his precious childhood friend himself, so he wanted to use me as the bad guy. In my last life, I actually listened to him. God knows where Sienna got that tiger, but it reeked of rotting meat. Parting its fur revealed a crawling mass of parasites. Its festering wounds were completely infected, making the poor thing look like a walking biohazard. And even as a cub, a wild predator is dangerous. A bite might not kill an adult instantly, but it could easily maim them for life. Besides, it was an endangered species. There was zero justification for keeping it as a house pet. But Sienna had completely lost her grip on reality. She thought she was the chosen protagonist of a fantasy series, blessed with magical taming abilities. When I told her she was living in a fictional delusion, she accused me of being jealous of her aura. She even went behind my back and locked the tiger in the storage room of our new home. I was shaking with rage when I found out. I literally threw both Sienna and the tiger out on the street. But Blake couldn’t bear to see her suffer. He secretly rented the apartment right beneath ours just so she could keep the beast. I caught them once in the stairwell. I heard Sienna whispering venom to the animal. “See her? That’s the wicked woman who kicked you out. She’s the reason you’re starving. If it weren’t for her, you would have ascended to a higher magical tier by now.” It sounded like a bad joke. I brushed it off at the time. I never expected the animal to actually understand human speech and harbor a vendetta. Brainwashed by Sienna, the tiger made me its target. Whenever she took it for a walk, it would break away, sneak into my apartment, shred my furniture, and leave bloody animal remains under my sheets. Pushed to my absolute limit, I told Blake to make her get rid of it. Blake just waved it off. “What’s the big deal? It hasn’t actually bitten anyone. Sienna is just training its bite force. With jaws like that, it’s going to be the strongest Familiar in the world.” I had no idea what kind of brain rot Blake was suffering from, but talking to them was useless. I called the cops. But when the police searched the downstairs apartment, they found absolutely nothing. Sienna played the innocent victim flawlessly. With no evidence, the police had to drop it. Half a year later, Blake and I were busy planning our wedding. My mom traveled all the way from our hometown to visit. While her back was turned, the tiger ambushed her. I rushed her to the ER, but the wounds were too severe. She didn’t make it. My sanity snapped. All I wanted was to end that tiger and avenge my mother. Knowing I couldn’t overpower it with brute strength, I bought a massive steel bear trap and hid it near Sienna’s patio. Finally, the jaws snapped shut. The tiger went down howling. I charged at it with a heavy meat cleaver, completely blinded by rage. But Blake tackled me from behind, pinning me hard into the dirt. “Are you insane? That’s Sienna’s precious Familiar!” Sienna used the distraction to pry the trap open. With red, tearful eyes, she screamed at the bleeding beast. “Run, Snow! Go heal your magic and come back to make them pay!” The tiger limped away into the darkness. Just before it vanished, it threw a look over its shoulder. Its golden eyes were completely saturated with murderous intent. The wedding was permanently canceled after that. Traumatized and paranoid, I moved from city to city, constantly looking over my shoulder. Five years later, I finally went back to my hometown, only to find that beast waiting for me. It had claimed my family home, bringing a dozen full-grown predators with it. Remembering my father’s mutilated body made my eyes sting with unshed tears. In this life, if she wants to play beast tamer, she can knock herself out. I’m taking myself out of the narrative. 2 Sienna looked genuinely taken aback by my approval. Her eyes darted around suspiciously. “Well, aren’t you surprisingly compliant today. Don’t go back on your word later. If you have a problem, spit it out now.” I offered the tiger a calm, collected glance and smiled. “No problems here. It’s the most spirited Familiar I’ve ever seen. Looks incredibly smart and brave.” Blake frowned, opening his mouth to intervene. Before he could speak, I bent down and scooped up Smudge, my silver tabby cat, from under the coffee table. “Look here, Smudge. This big guy is your new sidekick. You two better get along, alright?” Sienna’s face contorted in sheer offense. “My tiger is a once-in-a-century magical beast. Do not compare him to your mundane little livestock.” “Sure thing.” I turned around, carried Smudge into the dedicated cat room, double-locked the door, and headed straight to work. Once I was gone, Blake finally lost his composure. “Sienna, is keeping it here really the best idea? This is supposed to be my home with Nora.” Sienna crossed her arms, glaring at him. “It’s your house, isn’t it? What’s the problem? Besides, Nora said she was fine with it. Or are you saying you don’t want me around?” Seeing Sienna narrow her eyes made Blake deflate instantly. They grew up together, and he had spent his entire life acting as her loyal lapdog. She even crashed our dates. If we went to a restaurant, she sat right across from us. If we took a walk, she wedged herself between us. Even the very first time Blake and I booked a hotel room for the weekend, he booked the room right next door for Sienna. She knocked on our door three times in the middle of the night, demanding he come fix her TV. Eventually, she just casually moved into our new house, treating the place like she owned it. Her end goal was always to break us up so she could take the girlfriend spot. But Blake stubbornly refused to let me go, which meant she constantly picked fights with me and made passive-aggressive comments at every turn. Only when I got back from my shift did the reality of my rebirth truly settle in. I worked as a caretaker at the local wildlife conservation center. When I unlocked the front door, Sienna was nowhere to be seen. The tiger cub had been dumped on the cold hardwood floor. Its wounds were actively festering, its breathing dangerously shallow. I let out a heavy sigh and crouched down to check on it. Just then, Blake’s bedroom door swung open. “What is wrong with you?” he hissed. “This is our place! Look at that thing. It’s probably carrying a dozen different plagues. What if we get infected?” The cub let out a weak whimper. I grabbed some raw meat from the kitchen and placed it near its nose. “But didn’t you agree that this tiger has a magical aura? Who knows, maybe it really is an ancient god reincarnated.” Blake stared at the filthy animal with absolute disgust. “Magical my ass. It’s a filthy street mutt. It’s repulsive. You need to tell Sienna to get rid of it. It creeps me out just having it in the house.” I looked up from the tiger and tossed the problem right back at him. “You two share a brain, don’t you? You’ve known her forever. You tell her.” Blake scowled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know how she is. We’ve been friends for too long. If I kick her pet out, it’s going to ruin our friendship.” “Right. And how exactly is that my problem?” I stood up, dusting off my jeans. “If you hate looking at it, deal with it yourself. I’m not doing your dirty work. When she gets back, you can do the explaining.” I stepped into my room and shut the door right in his face. “You bitch!” Blake pounded on my door, his voice thick with frustration. “I don’t know why I ever settled for someone like you!” Honestly, I didn’t know why he chose me either. But looking back, I must have been completely blind to ever settle for him. He was far closer to Sienna. He could have easily talked to her, or even called her parents. Instead, he wanted me to play the villain and take all of Sienna’s heat. 3 Blake paced around the living room cursing under his breath for a solid thirty minutes. But the moment the front door clicked open and Sienna walked in, he completely flipped the script. He practically tripped over himself to pour her water and offer her a shoulder massage, not daring to utter a single complaint about the tiger. Late that night, a violent crashing sound echoed from the living room, followed by the awful screech of wooden chairs dragging across the ceramic tiles. “What the hell was that?” Sienna asked, her voice laced with panic. Blake whispered back, “Probably the tiger. I think I heard it growling earlier. They have crazy energy, and you didn’t feed it dinner, right?” She groaned loudly. “No! I’m starving myself on a diet, why would I care about feeding a stupid animal? Besides, if it can’t handle a little hunger, it’s not worthy of being my Familiar.” Right on cue, the sound of sharp claws frantically scratching the tiles echoed down the hall. The noise made Sienna lose her mind. Hating having her sleep interrupted, she stormed into the kitchen, grabbed a heavy wooden rolling pin, and started viciously beating the cub’s head. “Shut up! All you do is eat, you useless piece of trash! Make one more sound and I’ll starve you to death!” The tiger went dead silent. I lay in bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Things were changing. In my past life, Sienna babied that tiger. She hand-fed it premium meat and bottled water, even sneaking it out at midnight for walks to burn off its energy. Now, she couldn’t care less about it. Was it because I didn’t put up a fight? Since I didn’t act threatened by her “taming skills,” she lost interest in showing off. Thinking back, my intense fear in the previous timeline must have fed her ego. She thought she had commanded a truly terrifying beast. In this life, my total indifference made her view the tiger as a useless prop. Over the next few days, my theory was proven correct. She ignored the animal entirely, only occasionally trying to command it to sit or bow like a circus dog. The cub was already on death’s door. It barely had the energy to breathe, let alone obey her ridiculous commands. Sienna kicked it hard in the ribs. “Useless trash! You can’t even follow basic instructions. You’re dumber than a mutt!” After that, she abandoned it entirely. She ignored its rotting wounds and left it to starve on the floor. I honestly thought it would just pass away quietly. But on Sunday night, I heard a weak shuffling outside my door. The cub had regained a tiny bit of strength and was desperately trying to claw its way toward the front door. When it saw me, its entire demeanor shifted. Its eyes were sharp. This wasn’t a normal animal. It was incredibly intelligent, and it remembered everything. I hesitated for a second, then pulled a slab of raw beef from the freezer and tossed it on the floor. The tiger devoured it in massive, frantic bites. When I came home from the conservation center the next evening, I brought back specialized medication and more fresh meat. The cub was absolutely crawling with parasites. I gently parted the fur on its head to reveal where Sienna had struck it. The skin was ruptured and oozing pus. When I applied the antiseptic, it bared its teeth and let out a warning growl. “Hold still. I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to clean this out.” The tiger studied my face for a long moment before slowly resting its chin on its paws, allowing me to work. After treating it, I chopped the meat into small chunks and hand-fed it. It swallowed the food whole, then looked up at me with such desperate eyes that I ended up giving it the entire batch. From that day forward, I secretly brought food home every evening. Its condition improved dramatically. Sienna noticed it looking healthier and tried to boss it around again a few times. But the tiger just stared at her with blank, cold eyes. Furious, Sienna declared she was going to throw it out as soon as she found a “better” magical beast. My plan was simply to wait until the cub was fully healed, then arrange for my wildlife rescue to confiscate it properly. I didn’t expect Sienna to suddenly show up at my workplace to ruin my life. 4 I was in the middle of cleaning one of the enclosures when a coworker ran over, telling me the Director needed me in the main office immediately. When I walked in, I saw Sienna and Blake standing right by the desk. Sienna lifted her chin, flashing me a deeply arrogant smirk. Before I could even ask what was going on, the Director slammed his hand on the desk. “Nora, are you illegally housing a white tiger in your apartment?” I shook my head and pointed a finger straight at Sienna. “Absolutely not. She brought that tiger into the house.” Sienna immediately puffed up her chest. “Do you have any proof? How dare you slander me without evidence! I’m just a normal citizen, where would I even get a tiger? But you work at a zoo. You have the connections. Don’t try to pin your own crimes on me!” The Director looked at me with deep disappointment. “Nora, you’ve worked in conservation for years. You know white tigers are highly protected under federal law. Furthermore, they are apex predators. If that animal gets loose and kills someone, are you prepared to take the fall for it?” I forced down the burning rage in my chest and turned to Blake. “He’s my boyfriend. Ask him. He lives there. He knows she’s the one keeping it.” I thought Blake would take my side. After all, he had been whining about wanting the tiger gone for weeks. Instead, he actively avoided my gaze. “I mean… it’s probably Nora’s.” “I see her feeding it every single day. The tiger even plays with her cat.” A violent tremor wrecked my body. I marched up to him and shoved him hard by the shoulders. “Look me in the eyes and say that again, you coward!” Blake slapped my hands away, glaring at me with aggressive hostility. “Are you done making a scene? It’s your tiger! Do you understand me?” The Director pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nora, this is unacceptable. It’s bad enough you smuggled an animal, but lying right to my face makes it so much worse.” “I am not lying!” I practically shouted. “We have a witness right here! Are you going to keep playing dumb?” Seeing the Director lose his temper, a few of my coworkers stepped in front of me, trying to run interference. “Sir, Nora is the most responsible tech we have. She practically lives for the animals. There’s no way she would do something this reckless.” Sienna rolled her eyes loudly. “Of course you guys are taking her side, you’re all in on it together. Her own boyfriend just confessed she’s the guilty one. You all need to shut up.” She turned back to the Director, her voice dripping with fake concern. “This is a serious felony. She’s a professional who knowingly broke the law to keep a deadly pet. You have to call the police and press charges!” The Director looked at me, his voice entirely devoid of warmth. “Nora, you crossed a massive line here. You were next in line for a promotion. Now, whether you go to prison or not is out of my hands, but you are officially terminated effective immediately.” Sienna wrapped her arms tightly around Blake’s bicep and gave me a sickeningly sweet pout. “Just confess, Nora. If you turn yourself in, the judge might go easy on you.” I let out a long, exhausted sigh. “I swear to God, I didn’t bring that tiger home.” “Enough, Nora. Give it up.” A slow, chilling smile spread across my face. “Do you need me to throw the evidence right in your goddamn faces?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420104”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The medical report was sitting right inside my desk drawer. It stated clearly that yesterday’s tactical drill had severely damaged my retinas, rendering me legally blind. My twin brother, Neil, was the team leader of our elite EOD unit. Right now, he was being held hostage by an underground syndicate. The cartel had strapped forty pounds of high-grade explosives to his chest and dumped him right outside our forward operating base. The timer was ticking down, and it could detonate at any given second. As the top bomb technician in the unit, I held multiple patents for defusal tech. I had even invented the Micro-Optic Rig, a device capable of pinpointing the exact trigger wire in complex circuits. Theoretically, I was the only person on earth who could save him. Yet, I was sitting in the barracks, my face completely expressionless. My fingers were dancing over a training simulator covered in obscure symbols. Ten seconds. That was all it took for me to clear the puzzle. My wife, Darby, practically kicked the door off its hinges. She rushed in, screaming at me, demanding I get off my ass and go save Neil. My father, Ziggy, who also served as the commanding officer of our division, was pacing frantically. He yelled that Neil was only on that mission because he took my shift. He demanded to know how I could just sit there and let my own flesh and blood die. I didn’t even flinch. I slowly lifted my head, my eyes out of focus, and told them the truth. I was blind. I couldn’t defuse a damn thing. 1 “Blind?” My father gasped. He reached out, waving a hand wildly in front of my face, and sucked in a sharp breath when my eyes didn’t track the movement. “How did this happen? Why didn’t anyone report this to me?” Darby froze. A flash of pure guilt crossed her face, and she quickly stared at the floor. I let out a cold, hollow laugh. “Yesterday, Darby demanded I hand over my spot on this high-profile mission to Neil. I refused. So, they rigged my visor during the live-fire drill. The flashbang cooked my eyes.” I leaned back in my chair. “I didn’t call in sick today. They deliberately buried the incident report so Neil could steal my deployment.” When I first met Darby, she was just a civilian clerk at the precinct. We fell fast and hard, got married, and my parents pulled some strings to get her transferred into the tactical division to work alongside me. But the moment she got her clearance, her attitude toward me turned ice-cold. Instead, she spent all her time fawning over Neil, the golden-boy team leader. That was when I realized the sick truth. She had always been in love with my twin. Marrying me was just her stepping stone to get into the unit and get closer to him. But I never imagined that just to hand him a medal, they would conspire to leave me permanently disabled. Hearing my accusation, Darby panicked. Her voice spiked an octave as she fought back. “You’re lying! You’re just jealous that Neil outranks you, so you’re stalling for time to let him die!” She stepped closer, peering at my face, her confidence suddenly returning. She puffed out her chest. “Your acting is pathetic. If you’re really blind, how are you playing with a defusal simulator?” She turned to my father. “Captain, yesterday’s drill was just a minor malfunction. That’s why I didn’t file a report. Since he’s faking a disability to avoid duty, let me do it. If I use his Micro-Optic Rig, I know I can save Neil.” “Yes, exactly. We do what Darby says.” My father nodded rapidly. Seeing that I wasn’t moving to help, his face darkened. He slammed his fist onto my desk, rattling my coffee mug. “Liam! Did you hear her? Hand over the rig right now. That is a direct order!” Ziggy had always favored Neil. I was the one who practically carried the squad, racking up commendations, but my father secretly crossed my name off the promotion lists and handed the leadership role to his golden boy instead. I raised an eyebrow, my tone deadpan. “I locked the rig behind a dynamic biometric firewall. You have to beat a randomized defusal sequence to unlock it. I can’t see the screen. I can’t open it.” “You are trying to murder your own brother!” The blood drained from my father’s face. He was breathing heavily, clutching his chest. I ignored him, my thumbs resting on the simulator in my lap. I cleared the puzzle again. This time, it took me exactly eight seconds. Darby grinded her teeth in rage. She slapped the device out of my hands, grabbed me by the collar, and shook me violently. Her voice was pure hysteria. “Bring the rig out! I’ll read the visual patterns to you, and you can talk me through the sequence! Or is this just another excuse to run out the clock?” My father’s anxiety peaked. His eyes darted between my milky gaze and the device clattering on the floor. His expression hardened into something ugly. “Liam,” he growled, the threat heavy in his chest. “I don’t give a damn if you’re actually blind or not. If you don’t cooperate, I will have you court-martialed for treason!” I knew he wasn’t bluffing. I took a slow breath and offered a flat reply. “Fine. I’ll help. But you have to agree to one condition.” Before I even finished my sentence, my father scoffed with absolute disgust. “The team leader position belongs to Neil. Don’t even think about using this sick hostage situation to extort a promotion.” Extort? He called me sick? He conveniently forgot who abused his command authority to steal my career in the first place. Just then, Darby’s radio crackled. She answered it, her hands trembling so badly she nearly dropped it. “Captain, the timer just engaged. We have less than five minutes. We have to move!” The air in the room grew suffocating. My father couldn’t afford to waste another second. “I agree to your condition! Just as long as you don’t touch Neil’s rank.” “Deal.” I smirked internally. Compared to my eyesight, a pathetic squad leader title was dirt beneath my boots. 2 With my verbal guidance, Darby managed to crack the firewall on the Micro-Optic Rig. I talked her through the mechanics over the comms. In under three minutes, she located the primary trigger wire and successfully pulled Neil back from the brink of death. The moment he was safe, the entire unit packed up. They boarded the medevac chopper and flew back to the city for a hero’s welcome, completely abandoning me at the forward camp. Because my eyes were deeply infected and untreated, I spent the entire night crawling around the floor, blindly feeling for a landline to call for a civilian ambulance. I was rushed to the ICU. That night, the doctors issued three separate critical condition notices. I tried calling my parents and Darby over and over. No one answered. While I was lying in a hospital bed, Darby became a national sensation. I became the dirt on the bottom of the city’s shoe. The news cycled constantly. “Darby Garrison is a true patriot, utilizing unimaginable courage to save her commanding officer.” “She is a national hero. It’s just a tragedy she’s married to such a coward.” “Absolutely. Liam Garrison was too terrified to take the mission, forced his brother to step in, and then refused to help. He’s less of a man than anyone in that unit. Darby needs to divorce that dead weight immediately.” “I heard he faked going blind out of pure jealousy. What a disgusting, narrow-minded traitor.” The hatred wasn’t just online. Some civilians recognized me while I was waiting in line for an MRI. When the orderly stepped away to grab my chart, a group of men grabbed the handles of my wheelchair and shoved me straight down a flight of concrete stairs. My collarbone and two ribs snapped on impact. I woke up hours later to the hushed gossip of the nursing staff. To my absolute shock, the heavy fog in my vision had slightly cleared. I could see the blurry silhouettes of the room. They were changing my IV, completely unaware that I was conscious. “It’s so sad. The guy actually lost his sight and nearly died on those stairs, but his wife and parents are next door throwing a party for his brother, who doesn’t even have a scratch on him.” “Don’t waste your pity. He brought it on himself. The guy is a jealous coward.” Lying there, the cold seeped into my bones, freezing my blood. The next morning, the media dropped another bombshell. “Congratulations to Darby Garrison for successfully patenting the Micro-Optic Rig! Insider sources say Captain Garrison personally fast-tracked the paperwork.” “Good for her. She needs to protect her intellectual property before some jealous coward tries to steal the credit.” That headline completely severed the last pathetic thread of hope I held for my family. A month later, I was discharged and returned to the precinct. My teammates looked at me like I was a rotting corpse. “Why is this piece of garbage back? He shares a face with our Captain, but his soul is rotten to the core.” “Darby is a saint for putting up with him. Going blind was karma. He should have just died.” They hawked spit into my lunch tray. They poured sand in my coffee. They deliberately pushed office chairs into my path, erupting into cruel laughter whenever I tripped and hit the floor. My father saw the whole thing happen one afternoon. He just gave me a blank look. “Liam, my office. Now.” I clenched my fists, using my cane to navigate into his room. “The public backlash is too severe right now,” Ziggy said coldly. “Brass wants you suspended without pay until the heat dies down.” Hearing that, the last shred of respect I had for the man evaporated. I lifted my chin, staring directly at the blurry outline of his face, and let out a harsh scoff. “Is that Brass talking, or is that you?” “Are you afraid I’ll make a scene about the stolen patent, or are you terrified I’ll press federal charges for your golden boy blinding me?” A sharp crack echoed through the room. Ziggy slapped me so hard I tasted copper. “You ungrateful bastard! Is that how you speak to your commanding officer?” I pressed my lips into a thin line, keeping my face turned away, offering nothing but silence. Meeting my dead, frosted eyes, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Stop being paranoid. The suspension is final. Go home and rest.” I let out a low, self-deprecating laugh, forcing my heart rate to slow. Just as my hand touched the doorknob, he called out. “Liam. Tomorrow night is Neil’s official commendation banquet. You are required to attend.” “The press will be swarming the place. For the sake of this family, you will behave. Do not cause a scene, do not feed the rumors, and most importantly, you will show Neil the respect he deserves.” It was a total setup. If I showed up, it would officially validate their narrative. It would cement me as the cowardly brother crawling back to beg for forgiveness. I stopped in the doorway and looked over my shoulder. “Captain. When I unlocked that rig for you, you promised me one condition. You haven’t forgotten, have you?” I had never addressed him so formally. He froze for three full seconds before nodding cautiously. “I remember. Name your price.” A dark, dangerous amusement flickered in my chest. I let out a soft chuckle. “Captain, I want to make a bet.” 3 The next evening, I walked into the private banquet hall. Neil was sitting in the VIP chair that technically belonged to me, whispering intimately into Darby’s ear. They looked exactly like a happily married couple. The sickening part was that everyone in our unit was sitting at the tables, completely ignoring the blatant infidelity. The moment I stepped inside, the press swarmed. Camera flashes fired like strobe lights, blinding my already damaged eyes. “Liam! Are you here to publicly confess? Are you actually blind, or was it a tactical lie to let your brother die? Don’t you feel any guilt?” “Your wife just secured the patent for a revolutionary bomb disposal tool! Does this prove the unit has outgrown you and you’re officially obsolete?” The questions were vicious, designed to draw blood. Not a single teammate stood up to intervene. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Ziggy grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the main table. His tone was uncharacteristically gentle, playing for the cameras. “Liam, your public image is a disaster right now. I had to let Darby register the patent to protect the tech.” “Just hand the physical prototype over to her. The media requested a live demonstration, and I couldn’t say no.” The entire hall fell dead silent. Everyone was waiting for me to surrender. I had reached my absolute limit. I raised my voice, letting it echo off the walls. “No. My wife is openly flirting with another man. You sabotaged my gear and blinded me. You stole my life’s work. And now you expect me to smile and clean up your mess? Do I look like an idiot to you?” They never expected me to fight back in public. The sheer force of my words left them paralyzed. Ziggy’s face turned a violent shade of purple, his lips trembling in pure rage. Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, the reporters shoved their microphones closer to our table. Darby’s face flushed with panic. She immediately forced tears into her eyes, playing the victim perfectly. “Watch your mouth! Neil and I are strictly professionals. You only see dirt because your own mind is filthy!” That was her signature move. Whenever she was backed into a corner, she played the bleeding heart. Before I could even respond, she started sobbing loudly. The entire room glared at me with absolute disgust, treating me like a monster abusing his saint of a wife. Neil slammed his hands on the table and stood up, wrapping a protective arm around Darby’s shoulders. “I wanted to leave you some dignity, brother. But you have crossed the line.” Neil looked directly into the cameras. “The truth is, my location was compromised during my undercover op because Liam sold my tactical coordinates to the cartel the night before.” The room erupted. Venomous glares pierced through me. If looks could kill, I would have been shredded to pieces. Only Ziggy remained silent. He stared at Neil with a complicated, deeply conflicted expression. Darby wiped her fake tears, her voice dripping with poison. “I can’t believe I married a traitor. I want a divorce!” With her lighting the match, the room exploded into chaos. “I thought it was just petty jealousy, but he’s a literal terrorist sympathizer! Lock him up!” “Arrest him! Call the MPs!” I sat calmly in my chair, a dark smile playing on my lips. “Darby. I was blinded in the training drill first thing that morning. I was put under heavy anesthesia and slept through the next forty-eight hours. You were supposed to be watching me. You know better than anyone that I couldn’t have contacted the cartel.” Under the table, hidden from the cameras, her fingers were tightly intertwined with Neil’s. A second ago, she was the weeping victim. Now, her eyes were cold and utterly ruthless. “You’re a manipulator. I couldn’t watch you twenty-four hours a day. I can’t vouch for you.” With that single sentence, she hammered the final nail into my coffin. Suddenly, a sharp ringtone pierced the screaming crowd. Ziggy answered his phone. His face drained of all color. He stared at me in absolute, paralyzed horror. Darby, too impatient to wait, urged him on. “Captain! The crowd is going to riot. Give the order to arrest him!” At the same time, the parents of a bomb tech who died in a previous operation rushed forward. They tackled me to the floor, raining heavy punches onto my face. “Give me my son back! You traitorous scum!” “You look like a soldier but you’re worse than a dog! Rot in hell!” A heavy boot caught my temple. Blood poured down the side of my face, staining the carpet. Darby watched me bleed, her face completely void of emotion. She didn’t even blink. I started laughing. A loud, desperate, chilling laugh. Suddenly, the heavy oak doors of the banquet hall were kicked open. A dozen Federal Agents in tactical gear stormed the room, flashing their badges. “Federal Bureau of Investigation! We received a high-priority tip regarding an internal mole selling classified tactical data to domestic terrorists! Who made the call?” Darby and Neil exchanged a smug, knowing look. They were practically glowing with victory, ready to hand me over on a silver platter. Ziggy snapped out of his trance. He looked at Neil, then frantically shook his head at the agents. “Officers, there’s been a misunderstanding. There is no mole.” “I made the call.” I pushed myself off the bloody floor, completely ignoring my father’s pleading eyes, and spoke with absolute clarity.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420103”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

For fifteen years, I was fiercely protective of my brother. But then came the twist of the century: he turned out to be the switched-at-birth heir to a billionaire family. When his biological parents arrived, I lost it. Crying, I grabbed his hand and swore blood didn’t matter—I’d always be the sister who loved him most. I warned him rich families often prefer the child they raised, and gave him a handwritten “True Heir Survival Guide,” promising our dogs, cats, and even the town’s angry geese would always have his back. My brother and his father looked ready to burst. Then his father cleared his throat and said I was coming too. I beamed, hugging my brother’s arm, already cheering about storming high society together to crush the “fake son.” My brother fell silent. The “fake son” I wanted to destroy was actually my own biological brother. 1 Gordon and I grew up scraping by in a forgotten, run-down town deep in the Appalachian mountains. Our parents passed away when we were young. We survived by sticking to the shadows, living off canned beans and stale bread. Gordon was the silent type. Even if the sky was falling, he wouldn’t make a sound. But if we only had one bite of food left, he would always force it into my mouth. I was the exact opposite. I had a sharp tongue, a wild temper, and I ran our neighborhood like a boss. If anyone dared to lay a finger on Gordon, I would chase them all the way to the county line, screaming insults until they couldn’t show their faces again. So when that sleek, pitch-black town car pulled up in front of our rotting wooden porch, my first instinct was to shove Gordon behind me. A man stepped out. He was dressed in a pristine tailored suit, his hair slicked back so perfectly it looked painted on. One look, and you knew he didn’t drink tap water like the rest of us. He introduced himself as Victor Sinclair. He was Gordon’s biological father. Gordon was the true heir the Sinclair family had accidentally swapped at the hospital sixteen years ago. What happened next played out exactly like the opening chapter of my survival guide. I cried until my face was a mess, Victor Sinclair looked at me with an expression dark as thunder, and finally barked out that the sister was coming too. I wiped my tears in a flash, grabbed Gordon’s hand, and hopped into the leather seats. It was my first time in a car that smelled like expensive cologne instead of gasoline, and I was definitely intimidated. But I was more terrified for Gordon. Plunging this innocent guy into a mansion full of billionaires was like throwing a rabbit into a shark tank. I leaned close to his ear, dropping my voice to a whisper. “Gordon, don’t panic. What is rule number one in my survival guide?” Gordon nervously picked at his cuticles, his lips trembling. “Watch more, speak less, play mute.” I nodded in approval and leaned in a little closer. “Then why do you think he brought me along?” Gordon just stared at me blankly. I puffed out my chest, mimicking his rich dad’s deep voice. “He obviously saw my potential! He knows I’m a natural-born business shark and wants to groom me as his protege!” The driver’s hands jerked, making the luxury car swerve slightly across the yellow line. Victor’s temple twitched. He shot me an ice-cold glare through the rearview mirror. “Say one more word of nonsense, and I will throw you out to feed the coyotes.” I shut my mouth, but in my head, I was reciting rule number two. Billionaire patriarchs are moody control freaks. Agreeing with them makes you a pushover. You have to play hard to get. A few silent minutes passed before I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Hey, mister. Does this mean there’s a fake heir sitting in your house right now? Let me guess, he’s a two-faced, manipulative little angel who acts sweet in front of you but stabs people in the back.” I squeezed Gordon’s hand tight. “Don’t worry, bro. I’ll read his every move. As long as we stick together, we’ll crush him.” The temperature inside the car seemed to drop below freezing. Victor didn’t say a word. I was on a roll now, poking Gordon in the ribs. “And get this, Gordon. That fake heir is technically my actual biological brother.” Gordon froze. His brain completely short-circuited. The drive took nearly three hours. I even managed to take a nap, but when I woke up, Gordon still looked like he was on his way to the electric chair. His brow was furrowed so deeply it could crush a walnut. When we finally parked, he reached out and desperately grabbed Victor’s expensive sleeve. “Sir, if he and I get into a fight, whose side are you taking?” “Let’s get one thing straight. You and I share blood, but to him, you’re just tap water. No playing favorites.” The veins on Victor’s forehead throbbed like angry worms. “Relax. You are not going to fight.” Victor just didn’t want to admit that the only fight he was worried about was between himself and his biological son. I curled my lip, clearly not buying it. “Look at that. We haven’t even walked through the front door, and he’s already biased.” I couldn’t wait to see what kind of monster had this grumpy billionaire so completely brainwashed. 2 The fake heir, my biological brother Sebastian, was infinitely more manipulative than I could have ever imagined. He was dressed in a flawless white cashmere sweater, standing in front of the massive mahogany double doors. A pure, angelic smile was plastered across his face. His skin was paler than milk, and his eyes were glistening, looking like he was ready to shed a sympathetic tear at any given second. Standing next to Gordon, the contrast was brutal. Gordon looked like a potato freshly dug out of the dirt, while Sebastian was a perfectly manicured greenhouse lily. All my aggressive energy instantly evaporated. This guy’s combat level was way too high. Gordon was sweating through his cheap shirt. He instinctively hid behind my shoulder, only peeking out with wide, terrified eyes. Sebastian bypassed me entirely, stepping right up to Gordon with a slight, respectful bow. His voice was soft enough to melt butter. “You must be Gordon. I am Sebastian. We are going to be a family from now on.” He reached out, offering a polite handshake. I reflexively stepped in front of Gordon, glaring at the polished boy like a guard dog. “What do you think you’re doing? My brother is shy. Keep your hands to yourself.” Sebastian blinked in surprise. Instantly, his eyes went red. He looked at me with absolute heartbreak. “Sister, do you hate me? I am so sorry. I know I took his rightful place. This is all my fault.” I sucked in a sharp breath. Good grief. This was exactly what I wrote in the guide. The ultimate manipulative tactic. Act weak and farm for sympathy. Gordon, the absolute fool, fell for it immediately. He tugged at the back of my shirt. “Lexi, I don’t think he means any harm.” I shot him a glare of pure disappointment. Dinner was even more bizarre. Sitting at the incredibly long dining table, Sebastian eagerly piled food onto Gordon’s pristine china plate. Every single thing he picked was something I knew Gordon hated. “Brother, you must have never tasted anything like this out in the country. Eat up. You need the nutrition.” “This is Maine lobster, and this is foie gras. Here, let me show you how to hold your silverware.” Gordon gripped the heavy silver knife and fork, his hands shaking like he had tremors. His face was burning a humiliated crimson. I slammed my fork down on the table, pushing my own plate right in front of Gordon. “My brother doesn’t like this fancy European garbage. He likes the hearty beef stew on my plate.” I stabbed the biggest chunk of tender beef and shoved it directly into Gordon’s mouth. Sebastian’s polite smile completely froze. The unshed tears in his eyes began to well up again. He looked toward the head of the table, silently begging Victor for help. Victor finally broke his silence. “Gordon is sixteen now. I have already instructed the staff to transfer both of your academic records to Oakridge Academy. You will be attending the same prep school as Sebastian.” I let out a scoff, just about to reject the offer, but Sebastian beat me to the punch. “Dad, do you really think that is a good idea? The curriculum at Oakridge is incredibly demanding. Brother just got here from a rural public school, he will definitely struggle. What if people make fun of him?” He wore a mask of deep concern, but there was a distinct, undeniable layer of superiority bleeding into his tone. “Maybe we should enroll him in a middle school first? Building a solid foundation is what truly matters.” I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “Sure thing. Me and my brother are going to Oakridge. I would love to see which blind idiot dares to make fun of us. Even starting from absolute zero, we are ten times better than some spoiled rich kids with empty heads.” The tension in the dining room spiked. I could feel Victor’s sharp, calculating gaze burning into the side of my head. Sebastian shrank back in his expensive chair, looking like I had just physically assaulted him. I didn’t care. I wanted to stir the pot. I needed everyone in this house to understand one simple fact. Nobody messes with Lexi’s brother. 3 Victor had the staff arrange our bedrooms. Gordon’s room was massive and luxurious, basically a presidential suite. But it was located at the absolute end of the hallway, isolated from the rest of the family. My room was slightly smaller, but conveniently placed right next door to Sebastian’s. I hugged my faded cartoon pillow tightly against my chest, standing stubbornly in Gordon’s doorway, refusing to leave. “I am sleeping in my brother’s room.” The head butler looked deeply uncomfortable. “Miss Lexi, that violates the household protocols.” “What protocols? In our house, the only protocol is that I stay where my brother stays.” Sebastian heard the commotion and stepped out of his room. He was wearing silk pajamas, his hair slightly damp from the shower, making him look even more fragile and pathetic. “Sister, what is wrong? Do you feel claustrophobic in your room? It is okay, my suite is very spacious. We can switch.” I rolled my eyes. I didn’t even have the energy to play along with his act. “I am worried my brother will have nightmares. He has always been afraid of the dark.” Sebastian’s eyes instantly welled up with moisture again. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have come back tonight and startled him.” He turned to Victor, who was standing a few yards away, his expression unreadable. “Dad, please let her stay with him. Everything is new to them, they must be so overwhelmed.” Look at that. A masterclass in manipulation. He got to play the generous, forgiving saint, while simultaneously painting us as uncultured hillbillies who couldn’t handle sleeping in a nice bed. Victor gave me a freezing glare. “Do whatever you want.” I successfully claimed the left half of Gordon’s massive California King bed. In the middle of the night, a quiet rustling sound woke me up. Gordon wasn’t asleep. He was sitting by the large bay window, staring blankly at the moon. “Gordon, what’s going on in your head?” He looked over his shoulder. The moonlight caught his face, highlighting the deep insecurity and fear in his eyes. “Lexi, this place is too big. It scares me.” “I feel like a criminal. Like I broke in and stole someone else’s life.” My chest tightened painfully. I crawled across the mattress and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “Shut up. You are not a thief. You just finally came home. Everything in this house was supposed to be yours from the start.” “Sebastian is the real thief. He stole sixteen years of your life.” Gordon shook his head, burying his face into my shoulder. His voice was muffled and small. “But their dad likes him better.” I patted his back, my voice completely unwavering. “Who cares who he likes? I like you, and that is all that matters. Trust me, Gordon. We are going to win.” Early the next morning, Sebastian knocked on our door. He was holding a steaming mug of milk, a bright, welcoming smile on his face. “Good morning, brother, sister. Dad sent me to bring you down for breakfast.” He offered the mug to Gordon. “Brother, I had the chef prepare this warm milk just for you. It is excellent for your digestion.” I stared at that mug, the alarm bells from rule number three ringing wildly in my head. Beware of the fake heir’s random acts of kindness. Sugar-coated bullets are always the deadliest. I snatched the mug right out of his hands and, while they both watched in stunned silence, poured the entire thing directly into a large potted fern by the door. “My brother is lactose intolerant. He can’t drink this.” I lied without even blinking. All the color drained from Sebastian’s face. He stood there, completely out of his depth. “I am so sorry, brother. I had no idea.” I let out a cold laugh, grabbing Gordon by the wrist and pulling him past Sebastian into the hallway. “There is a lot of stuff you don’t know. Stay away from my brother.” As we walked down the corridor, I could feel two distinct gazes burning into my back. One was Sebastian’s manufactured victimhood. The other was Victor’s cold, calculating scrutiny. Good. I wanted them to know exactly who they were dealing with. Lexi doesn’t play nice. 4 Transferring to Oakridge Academy went much smoother than I expected. Victor probably just wanted us out of the house so he didn’t have to look at us. On our very first day, Sebastian immediately tried to put on a show of brotherly love. He gathered a massive crowd of his elite friends and blocked us right at the classroom door. “Everyone, I want to introduce you to my brother, Gordon. He just moved back home. And this is his sister, Lexi.” The boys and girls standing behind him were dripping in designer brands. They looked at us like we were some exotic animals freshly imported to the zoo. “Wow, so that’s the true heir from the mountains?” “He looks so incredibly trashy.” “His sister looks like a feral dog.” Sebastian put on a fake stern voice and scolded them. “Do not say things like that. They are my family.” Then, he pulled out a beautifully wrapped luxury box and offered it to Gordon. “Brother, this is a welcome gift. It is the newest model smartwatch. It connects directly to the campus mainframe, it will really help you catch up on your studies.” Gordon stared at the high-tech device, his hands awkwardly hovering in the air, not knowing what to do. I saw right through Sebastian’s little game. Gordon had never even owned a smartphone. Handing him a complex piece of tech in front of a crowd was just a setup to watch him struggle and embarrass himself. I shoved the box right back into Sebastian’s chest. “No thanks. My brother isn’t used to this flashy junk.” I reached into my faded canvas backpack and pulled out an object wrapped in crumpled newspaper. I pressed it firmly into Gordon’s hands. “Here, bro. I brought this for you. It isn’t expensive, but it’s a hell of a lot better than something that just looks pretty.” Gordon carefully peeled back the newspaper. Inside was a beautifully hand-carved wooden wolf. The wolf’s eyes were dark and fierce, its posture powerful and alive. Gordon had stayed up for four straight nights carving it by the light of a single bulb. Gordon’s eyes instantly lit up. He cradled the small wooden carving like it was the most precious artifact in the entire world. The hallway went dead silent. Sebastian’s face shifted through three different shades of pale before settling on a sickly green. A bleach-blonde prep standing behind him couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped up, pointing a manicured finger right at my face. “What is your problem? Sebastian is trying to be nice, and you’re acting like ungrateful trash.” I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Are we legally required to accept his gifts? Did your dad buy the entire school, or do you just like sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?” “You little—” Before things could escalate into a physical fight, the morning bell echoed through the halls. Sebastian grabbed the blonde kid’s arm, pulling him back. He shot me one long, heavy look. The fake victim routine was gone, replaced by pure, freezing venom. He led his entourage away. I knew the war had officially begun. After the final bell, I deliberately dragged Gordon out the back exit, trying to avoid being cornered. But it didn’t work. Sebastian was waiting for us in a blind spot near the parking lot. He was completely alone this time. No audience. He blocked our path, staring down at the wooden wolf still clutched in Gordon’s hand. He let out a harsh, arrogant scoff. “White trash will always be white trash. You are only fit to play with mud and sticks.” All the blood rushed out of Gordon’s face. He instinctively hid the carving behind his back. A white-hot rage exploded in my chest. “Who the hell are you calling white trash? You are a cuckoo bird who stole another family’s nest. What gives you the right to look down on anyone?” “The food you eat, the clothes on your back, the bed you sleep in. Every single thing belongs to my brother. What exactly are you so proud of?” Sebastian turned purple. I doubt anyone had ever spoken to him like that in his entire pampered life. He shook with anger, pointing a trembling finger at me. “You… you are going to regret this.” Right at that exact second, Victor’s sleek town car silently rolled to a stop right behind us. Victor stepped out of the backseat, his expression dark as a storm cloud. The second Sebastian saw him, it was like a switch flipped. Tears instantly flooded his eyes. He practically threw himself at Victor, sobbing beautifully. “Dad, I was just trying to talk to them, I wanted us to be a real family. But Lexi hates me so much. Is it because I took his place? Dad, maybe I should just pack my things and leave. I will give everything back to him.” He choked on his tears, looking like he had suffered the greatest injustice in human history. Victor’s expression darkened even further. His sharp, predatory gaze locked directly onto me. His voice was as cold as a frozen lake. “Lexi. Apologize to your brother.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420102”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The divorce from my ex-husband six years ago was the single most humiliating chapter of my life. He’d lost his mind back then, spewing the vilest curses, swearing I’d never find happiness. I was shaking with rage. That same day, I bought a one-way ticket and fled the country. It wasn’t until a high school reunion last week that I set foot in this city again. During dinner, someone enthusiastically tried to pour me a glass of wine. But Daniel, my ex, who was sitting right next to me, shot his hand out to block the bottle. “Don’t,” he said, his voice low but shockingly firm. “She’s allergic to alcohol.” 1 The moment he said it, the lively chatter in our private dining room died, replaced by a thick, awkward silence. Every eye in the room darted between me and Daniel. After all, our breakup had been a spectacular train wreck. Six years ago, Daniel had an affair with my best friend, Jessica. He claimed he didn’t want to hurt either of us and actually suggested the three of us could learn to coexist peacefully. The idea was so warped it shattered my reality. After a massive fight, I left the country in a storm of fury. And I hadn’t been back until today. Everyone knew the story, which is why they’d been carefully avoiding any sensitive topics during the initial pleasantries. But here was Daniel, practically begging for attention. After vetoing the wine, he took it upon himself to stand up and fill my glass with iced tea. Mike, one of our old friends, shot him a disapproving look but didn’t say anything when I remained silent. He just forced a smile and tried to smooth things over. “No worries, no worries! If Sophie can’t drink, she can’t drink. A toast with tea is just as good.” “Yeah, totally,” others chimed in, desperate to move past the cringeworthy moment. A reunion was a rare thing, and no one wanted our personal drama to ruin it. I didn’t want to make a scene either. I gracefully raised my glass of tea and took a sip. As I set it down, I caught a flicker of a smile in Daniel’s eyes, as if my simple act of drinking the tea he poured meant something more. I refused to overthink it and calmly looked away. Just then, the waiters began bringing in the food. I was surprised to see they were all my favorite dishes. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks: Daniel had been the one to place the order. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He was leaning back in his chair, a smug, expectant look on his face, as if he’d been waiting for me to notice his grand gesture. It all clicked into place. Every single thing he’d done tonight was a calculated move to get close to me. And honestly? It was making my skin crawl. A good ex is a dead ex. They should vanish from your world completely, not pop up trying to play the knight in shining armor. Especially not when, less than a month after I left the country, Daniel had married Jessica. As far as I knew, they were still very much together. A married man making repeated, suggestive moves on his ex-wife? That wasn’t just inappropriate. It was disgusting. Trying to avoid any more drama, I coldly flagged down a waiter and ordered an orange juice. For the rest of the night, whenever a toast was made, I drank that, letting the iced tea Daniel had poured for me grow warm and forgotten. I thought my message was loud and clear. But then, Daniel suddenly reached across the table with his chopsticks and expertly placed a piece of brisket on my plate. “You’ve gotten so thin,” he said, his tone sickeningly intimate. “You must not have been eating well over there.” I stared at the meat in my bowl as if it were something rotten, unable to bring myself to touch it. But Daniel, acting completely oblivious, proceeded to serve me a little of everything, piling my plate high until it was a small mountain of food. Now, everyone was staring. 2 “What’s with those two? You think they got back together?” “No way! Isn’t Daniel still married?” “So what? They were the real couple. If it wasn’t for that Jessica butting in, they’d still be together.” “Man, nothing beats the original, you know?” Thanks to Daniel’s little performance, my former classmates were now convinced we were secretly hooking up again. Some even whispered that I’d come back to the country just for him. And the man himself, the architect of all this gossip, just sat there, watching it all unfold with a calm, detached expression. He didn’t say a word, content to let the rumors solidify into fact. I had no idea what his game was, but I wanted absolutely no part of it. I opened my mouth, ready to shut it all down by announcing that I was already married. But before I could speak, the door to the room swung open. Jessica stood there, a thundercloud on her face. Her eyes met mine, and for a second, she froze. Then, her expression shifted instantly, her face contorting into a sickly sweet smile. “Sophie! You’re back! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” She sauntered in like she owned the place and slid into the seat next to Daniel. The moment she sat down, her gaze fell on the dishes covering the table. As my best friend for years, she knew my tastes intimately. Her face went pale with humiliation. But just as quickly, she shot a venomous glare in my direction, as if I had personally orchestrated the menu just to embarrass her. A bitter irony washed over me. The Jessica I remembered wasn’t like this. I remember in tenth-grade gym class, I got my period and bled through my pants. A group of boys started pointing and laughing. “Hey, look! Sophie’s butt is bleeding!” “Ew, that’s so gross.” It was the first time I’d ever been publicly mocked like that. My back went rigid, and I froze on the spot, utterly clueless about what to do. Suddenly, Jessica charged in, whipped off her own jacket, and tied it around my waist. Then she spun around and roared at the boys. “What the hell are you laughing at? It’s called a period. It’s normal! If you’re that clueless, maybe you should pay attention in health class instead of acting like ignorant jerks.” The boys fell silent immediately. Later, I gave her a box of candy to thank her. She took it and thumped her chest, promising, “Anyone ever messes with you again, you just come find me. I’ll take care of them!” I thought she was just kidding, but Jessica was true to her word. Back then, Daniel and I were childhood sweethearts, practically joined at the hip. Our closeness fueled a lot of gossip. Someone even started a rumor that we had already gone all the way. At first, I ignored it. But we were still teenagers, and our skins weren’t as thick as they are now. Hearing it over and over started to get to me, making me feel miserable and wronged. So one day, after another crude joke was thrown my way, I finally broke. I walked to the front of the classroom and tearfully told everyone that Daniel and I had never crossed that line. Daniel stood up to defend me, but that only made things worse. The gossips exchanged gleeful looks and started jeering. “Ooh, look at that. Say two words about the girl and the guy jumps up to protect her. And you say nothing’s going on?” “They walk home together every day. Who knows what they’re doing in private!” “Hahaha.” Another wave of laughter crashed over me. I stood there, frozen, feeling like I’d been struck by lightning. That’s when Jessica slammed her hand on her desk. She stood up, marched over to the group of guys, looked them up and down, and then flashed a lewd grin. “Ooh, look at you three, always going to the bathroom together. Who knows what you guys are doing in there, huh?” She leaned in, her voice dripping with insinuation. “I heard real ‘bros’ are supposed to take care of each other when they’re in need. You guys been taking good care of each other?” If straight romance was a storm in our high school, a gay rumor was a full-blown apocalypse. The boys’ faces went white with panic. They immediately turned to me and Daniel, stammering apologies. After that, they never breathed another word about us. And from that day on, Jessica and I were inseparable. She was the kind of person who was optimistic, kind, and fiercely righteous. She was the one who would charge into battle for me. But the woman standing here today? For a man, she’d not only abandoned her own sense of justice but was now slinging mud at me without a second thought. “Sophie, are you still mad at me for taking Daniel all those years ago? Is that why you came back without saying a word to me?” I was so taken aback by her accusation that I didn’t know how to respond. She seized the opportunity, raising her voice into a pathetic, whiny tone. “I tried to talk to you when I came in, but you just ignored me. You just wanted to humiliate me, didn’t you?” Her voice rose to a crescendo, filled with theatrical self-pity. “I know you’ve never gotten over Daniel, but he’s my husband now! Are you really trying to seduce him right in front of my face?” The room erupted in gasps. Curious eyes bounced back and forth between me and Jessica. But what truly surprised me was Daniel’s reaction. He did absolutely nothing to stop Jessica’s lies. Instead, he just rested his chin on his hand, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he watched me. It was a look of pure anticipation. As if he was actually hoping I would try to seduce him. How could he look at me like that? Had he forgotten how he had cursed me, how he had wished me a life of misery? 3 I found out Jessica’s secret boyfriend was Daniel on the day she tried to kill herself. By then, I was already married to Daniel and five months pregnant with our child. She sent me a horrifying photo of her sliced wrist with a simple text: I’m so sorry. I can’t live anymore. The image of raw, red flesh made my scalp tingle with fear. I immediately called an ambulance. At the hospital, I was a wreck, pacing uselessly, not knowing what to do. I just knelt on the cold floor, my pregnant belly heavy, and sobbed, begging the doctors to save her. Thankfully, they managed to stabilize her. I finally let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My relief quickly turned to rage. I was going to find the man who did this to her and make him pay. But I didn’t even know his name. All I had to go on were Jessica’s tear-swollen eyes from our last conversation. After composing myself, I went to her dorm to get her phone. My plan was to lure the bastard out and beat him to a pulp. But when I held her phone in my hand, my world tilted on its axis. The lock screen was a picture of two hands, fingers intertwined. On the man’s ring finger was a wedding band. I recognized it instantly. It was my wedding ring. The one I’d given Daniel. So… the man was Daniel? No. It couldn’t be. Impossible. My hands trembling, I frantically typed in my own birthday to unlock the phone. Password incorrect. I tried Jessica’s birthday. Still incorrect. Finally, with a shaking hand, I entered Daniel’s birthday. The phone unlocked. At that point, the truth was already screaming at me, but a tiny, desperate part of my heart clung to hope. Maybe it’s not Daniel’s hand, just someone with a similar ring… Maybe the password is just a random coincidence… But all my flimsy excuses were obliterated by the thousands of photos in her gallery. Over a thousand pictures of Daniel and Jessica together. Eating at restaurants. Vacationing on a beach. Lying in bed, tangled in sheets. And then… the one that broke me. A snapshot of a white bedsheet stained with a single, damning crimson blotch. A picture taken after the first time they’d slept together. The date stamp was from four months ago. The same day I found out I was pregnant. I remembered it so clearly. When I told Daniel the news, he was so ecstatic he lifted me up and spun me around. Jessica was there, too, excitedly declaring she would be the baby’s godmother. It had been the happiest day of my life. I was carrying new life, with the man I loved and the friend I cherished by my side. I had shared my joy with them in the morning. And that very afternoon, they had betrayed me together. What a fucking joke. The two people who had been my entire world, who had walked with me through my entire youth, had been lying to me all along. And I, in my blissful ignorance, had never suspected a thing. If I hadn’t been trying to play the hero for Jessica, would I have ever found out? The thought that just hours ago, I was on my knees, pregnant and desperate, begging doctors to save her… it made me want to laugh. But the laughter died in my throat. A cold, chilling thought sliced through my mind. Jessica’s suicide attempt… was it a calculated move to force my hand?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420101”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel