I was carrying a stack of things downstairs, ready to dump them straight into the trash. These were all for the white Persian I had raised since he was a kitten. There were homemade, pet-safe meals I had spent hours learning to cook, along with adorable little outfits and expensive toys. But ever since he shifted into his human form, he treated me like absolute garbage. He said I was plain, that my voice grated on his nerves, and that my habit of kissing his cheek made him sick to his stomach. He refused to take a single bite of the food I made, sneering that he wasn’t a dog and wouldn’t eat slop. He shredded the clothes and toys I bought, baring his fangs to warn me that if I ever tried to humiliate him with such disgusting things again, he would rip my throat out. My heart was completely shattered. The only thing left to do was pack it all up and throw it away. Just as I was about to toss the bag, I bumped into a stray tabby cat. He sniffed the homemade food in my hand and ate it with pure joy. Then, picking up a little plush toy in his mouth, he happily circled my legs. I stared at him for a long time. Then, I reached out and took this little guy home. 1 When I walked through my front door, the apartment was a disaster zone. A young man with fluffy white cat ears lounging on my sofa didn’t even bother to look up. “What took you so long? I’m thirsty. I want salmon-infused water!” I stared at the torn garbage bags, shredded toilet paper, smashed pots, and broken plant stems scattered across the floor. A massive headache throbbed behind my eyes. “Hector, what is all this? I told you, if you want something, just call me! Stop destroying the house every time you throw a tantrum!” The young man on the sofa bolted upright, the luxurious, feather-like tail behind him puffing up to twice its size. “What do you mean, destroying the house? You’re the one keeping me locked up in here! You’re stripping away my freedom!” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “The outside world is complicated. You’re a newly shifted Shifter. You couldn’t survive out there on your own.” “Oh, I couldn’t survive?” Hector let out a cold, mocking laugh. He grabbed a stack of my medical records from the coffee table and hurled them at me. The words ‘Depression’ and ‘Anxiety’ flashed across the flying papers as his vicious voice rang out clearly. “Looks to me like you’re the one who would die without me!” A sharp edge of paper sliced across my cheek, leaving a stinging trail of blood. We both froze. In the next split second, a piercing yowl erupted from the shopping bag in my arms. A lean, agile shadow launched itself directly at the sofa. As the shadow closed the distance, it stretched and grew. By the time it slammed into the cushions, it had taken the full form of a broad-shouldered, adult man. Hector couldn’t dodge in time. He was pinned brutally beneath the stranger, shrieking in panic. “Who the hell are you?! This is my house!” The man didn’t say a word. He just raised a fist and started throwing heavy punches, knocking Hector’s head back against the armrest. “Stop! Don’t hit him!” I finally snapped out of my shock and rushed forward to pull the man back. “No fighting in the house!” The man immediately froze. He twitched the tabby ears atop his head, tilted his neck, and affectionately nuzzled my cheek. “Whatever my master says.” Hector’s face twisted into absolute fury. He bared his fangs and roared. “Who the hell are you calling master?!” 2 By the time I managed to separate the two cats, well, the two men, I was panting from exhaustion. “You are staying in the guest room tonight!” I shoved Hector into the spare bedroom, giving him a stern glare. “When you learn to stop cursing and puffing up your tail, I’ll let you out!” “Nora! How dare you treat me like this!” Hector was so furious his tail was completely puffed out again. “You bring another stray into this house, and then you lock me up?! You’re disloyal! I’ll bite you to death!” I frowned. “No biting.” Hector bared his teeth even wider. “Fickle, cheating women like you deserve to get sick! Don’t you ever think about hugging me again. Just drop dead!” The pure malice in his eyes made my chest tighten with a mix of fear and crushing sorrow. The kitten I had raised for two years, the one I had nurtured since he fit in the palm of my hand, was wishing for my death. I pulled the guest room door shut, doing my best to block out the muffled screaming. I quietly swept up the ruined living room, wiping away tears with the back of my hand. Once the mess was cleared, I carried a bowl of food into my study. The room was perfectly quiet. If it weren’t for the small lump under the blanket on the folding bed, I would have thought the tabby had run away. “Why did you turn back into a cat?” I gently poked the lump. “I know about Shifters. I’m not scared of you. You can stay in your human form.” The tabby peaked out, looking at me, and offered a slow, deliberate blink. I knew enough about feline behavior to know that meant trust and affection. I smiled softly and scratched him under the chin. The tabby started purring like a motor. Amidst the deep rumbling, his body began to expand. His human form was significantly larger and broader than Hector’s. He possessed a striking, ruggedly handsome face. A true heartthrob of the tabby world. I felt a sudden flush of embarrassment and quickly yanked the blanket up to cover his bare waist. He clearly hadn’t been neutered. It was very obvious. “You’ll stay in this room for the next few days to quarantine. Here’s some food if you get hungry tonight. I also found some spare clothes. See if they fit you later.” The man hummed in acknowledgment. He kept his eyes on me and gave another slow blink. I chuckled, patted his head, and stood up to leave. Before I could turn around, he gently caught my sleeve. “What is it?” I looked back down at him. “A name.” He stared up at me, my reflection perfectly captured in his deep, forest-green eyes. “Please give me a name.” 3 I thought about it all night and finally decided on Lucian. Since I had found him wandering the streets just before dawn, a name meaning ‘light’ felt like the perfect fit. To celebrate the newest member of the household, I woke up early to prepare a special meal. I baked pet-safe cupcakes using chicken breast, peeled shrimp, and egg yolks. One for each of them. Holding the cupcakes, I hesitated in the hallway before finally opening the door to the guest room. “Hector, time for breakfast.” The moment I stepped inside, my vision swam. The room was utterly trashed. I choked back my anger, forcing my voice to remain gentle. “I made fresh chicken cupcakes today. Come try some.” I placed the plate on the small nightstand. Before my hand even pulled away, a blur launched off the mattress and viciously flipped the table. “What is this garbage?! I could smell the stench through the door! It’s disgusting! I’m not eating it!” The plate shattered. The cupcake flew across the room, crumbling into a pathetic mess on the floorboards. Looking at the utter disgust twisted into his beautiful features, the bitter ache in my chest spread wildly. I quietly knelt down, swept the broken pieces into a pile, and walked out without looking back. I always prided myself on being a good cook. At the very least, human friends always praised my meals. But Hector hated everything I made. Whether it was pet-safe recipes or regular food, he despised it all. Even when I popped open imported, premium wet food, he ate it like it was a chore. Yet, when my friend visited and casually offered him a cheap squeeze treat, he ate it happily. I used to comfort myself by making excuses. Maybe the imported brand wasn’t his flavor profile. Maybe he was just acting like a diva to get my attention. But at this exact moment, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Hector didn’t hate my cooking. He didn’t hate the premium brands. He just hated me. 4 Taking in Hector was completely unplanned. I had just been officially diagnosed with clinical depression, and my therapist suggested adopting a pet to ground myself. By sheer coincidence, I found a litter of abandoned kittens on my way home from work. They were barely the size of my palm, eyes barely open. Hector was the runt of the litter. Sickly, frail, and so tiny that everyone else who came to adopt passed him over. I was the one who took him in. I fought through his fungal infections, his feline distemper, and upper respiratory viruses. I nursed him back to life, ounce by ounce, until the day he shifted into a human. Hector always told me that Shifters were different. They were a rare, noble, elite branch of society. He constantly reminded me that a magnificent creature like him shouldn’t be caged by a painfully average human like me. I knew I was plain and ordinary, but I couldn’t help the swell of pride I felt for raising such a precious, beautiful being. It was a magical feeling. Like a blinding ray of sunlight piercing through the endless rain clouds of my life. Even if that light burned my eyes, I was happy. Even when Hector mocked me and looked down on everything I did, I did my best to tune it out and pretend it didn’t hurt. On Hector’s second birthday, I received an official email from the Shifter Control Council. The letter stated that a two-year-old Shifter was considered a legal adult. If he wished to remain in the human world, he had to sign an official Bonding Contract with a human guardian. I was overjoyed. I meticulously printed out the forms and filled them out. But when I woke up from a nap, I found the paperwork shredded to pieces. Hector stood barefoot on the torn paper, a vicious sneer on his lips. “Who gave you the delusion that I would ever bond with you?” “You’re broke, you’re ugly, and you’re a terrible servant. You cling to me every day begging for hugs and kisses like a shameless stray mutt. Why would I ever sign my life over to you?” I had frozen in place. A cruel, mocking smile curved perfectly on his flawless face. He patted my cheek roughly and whispered, “I want krill-flavored puffs. Go make them, you stray mutt.” 5 It turned out that all my years of love and sacrifice were just seen as ‘servitude’. The affection and warmth I craved were just him tossing me scraps. In Hector’s eyes, I was nothing but a pathetic, needy dog wagging my tail for his amusement. I spiraled into a deep misery after that day. When I went back to my therapist, she was baffled. “I thought you adopted a pet? Why are your symptoms getting worse?” I offered a bitter smile. “My cat… he doesn’t really listen to me.” My doctor went silent for a moment before offering her advice. “If caring for an animal isn’t bringing you peace, but instead compounding your stress, I highly recommend you stop. Rehome him. Find a pet that is actually affectionate. Otherwise, this arrangement is toxic for your health, and frankly, it’s not good for the animal either.” I thought about her words for a very long time. Finally, after Hector smashed his bowl in disgust over yet another meal, I walked downstairs and brought back the stray tabby. The one who always greeted me after work, who never turned his nose up at my leftovers, and who pressed against my legs with soft purrs. Maybe this decision wasn’t a mistake after all. Just like right now. The study door cracked open a fraction, and Lucian peeked through the gap, his eyes entirely focused on my distress. I quickly wiped my cheeks and shook my head. “You can’t come out yet.” Lucian nodded, then shook his head. “I won’t come out. But I want to wipe your tears.” A watery laugh escaped me. I walked over to the doorframe. “Okay, wipe them.” Lucian reached through the crack, using his large, warm thumb to gently brush away the moisture on my skin. His touch was incredibly soft. “I made chicken cupcakes, but… they might taste awful.” “No, they don’t.” Lucian grabbed my wrist, looking at me with absolute sincerity. “I could smell them through the door. Chicken and shrimp, right? It smells amazing! I could eat three of them in one bite!” I blinked, my eyes stinging all over again. I turned into the kitchen and brought back his portion. On a whim, I stuck a sprig of catnip into the top like a little candle. “Welcome to the family. From now on, your name is Lucian.” Lucian nodded vigorously and sat down cross-legged on the floor, devouring the food in massive bites. Seeing him eat with such enthusiasm, I hurried back to the kitchen to make another batch. While waiting for the chicken to boil, I grabbed a squeeze treat to see if he wanted a snack. As I approached the study, I heard Hector’s voice bleeding through the door. “You put on a pretty good show.” “See? I told you this stupid woman was incredibly easy to fool.” 6 Fool me… about what? I froze outside the study, my heart constricting so violently it became hard to breathe. “If you want to stay in the human world, you have to swallow your pride for a bit,” Hector’s voice dripped with lazy arrogance. “Like they say online: play the sweet angel for five minutes, secure a luxury lifestyle forever. It’s a solid trade, right?” Staring blankly at the door, I suddenly remembered the bolded warning at the very bottom of the SCC email: Shifters can be exceptionally cunning. Many will use any means necessary to secure residence in human society. Please ensure your Shifter genuinely respects and cares for you before signing the Bonding Contract. So, it wasn’t an exaggeration. I stood in absolute silence as Hector took on the role of a seasoned mentor lecturing Lucian. “But you can’t just blindly act sweet. You have to lay down the law with this idiot, otherwise she’ll start thinking she actually owns you. Once she learns to stop raising her voice at me and acts completely subservient, I might finally consider signing the contract with her.” Hector sneered at the empty plate on the floor. “You can use Nora for practice. She has a lot of rich friends with pets. I’ll make her rehome you to one of them, and you can just pick whichever wealthy human is easiest to manipulate and bond with them.” Lucian didn’t say a word. He just stared blankly at Hector, his forest-green eyes utterly devoid of the warmth he showed me. “Are you deaf? I’m talking to you.” I had spoiled Hector to the core. His temper was incredibly volatile, and waiting even a few seconds for a response made him furious. He kicked Lucian’s empty plate across the floor, mocking him. “Did eating her garbage slop rot your brain?” Lucian finally reacted. He slowly raised his eyes, locking onto Hector’s face, and spoke in a deadpan voice. “Pick it up.” Hector frowned. “What?” “Pick up the plate.” Hector burst into laughter. He stepped forward, stomping his bare foot onto the porcelain plate and grinding it into the floor as a blatant challenge. “Are you getting too deep into character? Everyone knows tabbies are the most feral, insubordinate street trash around. You bite the heads off rats in the alleys. You don’t need to play the good boy in front of me.” His smile deepened into a venomous smirk. “Or is it because you’ve overstayed your visa in the human world? You need to hook a human fast, or the Council is going to deport you back to the wilds?” 7 Deport him? I blinked, remembering a specific clause in the Shifter Handbook. Rule number one: Shifters capable of achieving human form must secure a Bonding Contract before the age of three. Failure to do so results in mandatory deportation by the Council. This strict deadline was probably the breeding ground for all the deceit, endurance, and fake affection. I watched Lucian’s face darken. A sharp, needle-like pain pierced my chest. It was small, but undeniable. So his approach was premeditated? His affection was just a tool? I gripped the squeeze treat in my hand, my throat burning with acid. I genuinely thought I was past the point of heartbreak after enduring Hector’s constant abuse, but here I was, ready to cry over a stray cat. Or maybe I was just crying because my genuine love was constantly treated like garbage. Just as a sob threatened to break past my lips, Lucian’s voice finally cut through the tension. “I don’t care if Nora bonds with me or not.” Both Hector and I froze completely. Hector’s brow furrowed. “Then what the hell are you doing here?” Lucian stared at Hector, perfectly mimicking his mocking smile. “I heard there was a lazy, ungrateful, backstabbing leech living in this house, so I wanted a front-row seat to see it for myself.” “And looking at you today, the rumors were entirely accurate.” Hector short-circuited for half a second before exploding. “Who the hell are you calling a leech?!” Lucian’s voice was glacial. “I thought you had some basic self-awareness.” Hector knew he couldn’t beat Lucian in a physical fight, so he kept his distance, though his tail was completely puffed out in rage. “What happens between Nora and me is none of your business! You have no right to lecture me!” “Besides, she’s just a normal human! A broke, ugly, average human! Why shouldn’t I be disgusted by her?!” “Do you have any idea how other Shifters live?! They live in multi-story mansions! They eat airlifted seafood every single day! And I’m stuck rotting in this cramped apartment, playing with raggedy, frayed toys! She can’t provide anything for me! She’s turning me into a laughingstock among my kind!” Lucian let him finish his tantrum. Then, with absolute calm, he delivered three words. “Then get out.” “If you hate Nora so much, if she disgusts you so deeply, why are you still here? Why are you squatting in her house?” Lucian took a step forward, jabbing a hard finger into Hector’s shoulder. “You talk a big game about hating her, yet you refuse to leave. If you ask me, you’re the one acting like a pathetic, shameless stray mutt.” 8 I instantly knew things were going to get ugly. True to form, Hector completely lost his mind. Ignoring the sheer difference in their strength, he let out a feral shriek and lunged at Lucian. “No fighting!” I rushed into the room to pull them apart. In the chaotic blur of limbs, Hector’s claws accidentally slashed across the back of my hand. I hissed sharply, looking down at the deep, bleeding scratches. Seeing the blood, Lucian immediately leaped backward out of the fight. He stood frantically by my side, his tail thrashing with anxiety. “You’re hurt! Are you okay?” “Stop acting like a saint!” Hector glared at my bleeding hand before lunging forward again. “That tiny scratch isn’t going to kill her! Stop being so dramatic!” He was right. It wasn’t going to kill me. But it still hurt. My heart turned to absolute ice. For the first time ever, I dropped my accommodating facade and glared coldly at Hector. “Hector, go back to your room!” He completely ignored me, stepping forward to bite Lucian. Taking advantage of the distraction, I reached out and clamped my hand firmly down on the scruff of his neck. “Did you not hear me? Go!” I raised him. I knew every single one of his weaknesses. Even in human form, his biological instincts remained. He was paralyzed by pressure on his scruff. “Let me go!” Hector’s body went stiff, but his eyes glared murderously at Lucian. “Are you completely blind?! He’s just here to scam you for free food and a contract! I know his kind! They’ll call anyone mother for a drop of milk! He doesn’t actually care about you!” I tuned him out completely, dragging him back to the guest room and throwing him inside. Just as I pulled the door shut, I couldn’t stop myself from speaking. “Even fake affection is still affection, isn’t it?” Hector froze. I let out a quiet sigh and closed the door. The moment I turned around, Lucian rushed up to me. “Is your hand okay? It’s bleeding heavily!” I was used to it. Cat owners got scratched; it was part of the job. I walked over to the bathroom sink to rinse it. “I’m fine. Are you hurt?” Lucian followed me right into the bathroom, his eyes glued to my injury. “I’m fine. Hector is incredibly weak. He can’t beat me.” I couldn’t help but laugh. It was true. A spoiled Persian cat was never going to win a street fight against a tabby. Once the wound was clean, I pulled out the iodine. Lucian immediately held out his hand. “Let me.” I blinked in surprise, then handed him the cotton swabs. Lucian’s touch was feather-light, completely terrified of causing me pain. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” Out of nowhere, Lucian dropped the heavy sentence. I frowned. “What?” He looked up at me, his green eyes swimming with guilt and anxiety. “If I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” I was silent for a moment before gently shaking my head. “It has nothing to do with you.” Even if Lucian wasn’t here, Hector would still look down on me, still mock me, and still show zero concern for my well-being. I could understand Hector’s point of view. Just as he said, as a rare Shifter, he deserved a life of luxury instead of suffering in a tiny apartment with me. I was just reluctant to let him go. He was the kitten I raised by hand. I was selfishly holding onto the hope that he would stay with me just a little longer. But looking at the fresh scratches on my hand, the reality finally snapped into focus. It was time to let go. Hector and I needed to release each other. 9 I tossed and turned that night, trying to figure out how to find a wealthy adopter for Hector. Finally, I got out of bed and sent an official email to the Shifter Control Council explaining the situation. I just had to wait for a reply. Since Hector wasn’t leaving immediately, Lucian still needed to be quarantined in the study. Over the next week, I got a solid grasp on Lucian’s personality. He had a huge appetite. His favorite meal was my homemade shrimp and rice, and his favorite toy was a little yellow fish I sewed by hand. Whenever he felt embarrassed, he would instantly poof back into a cat. He was a master at using his feline form to act cute, purring like an engine the second he touched me. In his human form, despite looking like a deeply mature, rugged adult, he constantly hovered around me like an oversized shadow. “Converting to human years, you’re a full adult, right?” I asked while washing his hair in the bathroom. Lucian was terrified of running water. He squeezed his eyes shut under the suds. “Yes. In human years, I’m twenty-four.” Oh wow. Prime marriage material. I teased him with a wicked grin. “When you were a street cat, did you ever get… fixed?” Lucian cracked one eye open, staring at me for two solid seconds. Suddenly, he grabbed the towel draped over his waist. In a flash, his entire lower abdomen was on full display. My brain stalled for half a second before I grabbed the showerhead and sprayed him. “Put some pants on!” Lucian bolted upright. “Hot!” I checked the dial. “The water is barely lukewarm!” Lucian looked deeply serious. “I’m very fragile down there!” I shot him a glare. “If you’re so fragile, stop flashing me.” He muttered under his breath, “I just wanted to show you. Displaying my male pride.” My face burned bright red. “Stop being a pervert!” After finally finishing his bath, I grabbed the clippers to trim his nails. He resisted aggressively. “I can sharpen them myself!” “Absolutely not!” I scolded. “If you shred the sofa, I lose my security deposit!” “I can go outside and find a tree!” “Denied! You’re an indoor cat now!” While we were bickering, the guest room door was violently kicked open. Hector stomped out, his face twisted in annoyance. “You guys are so loud! Shut up or get out!” I panicked and ran over to check the doorframe. Thank god, no cracks. I let out a massive sigh of relief, turning back to catch Hector’s disgusted sneer. “Panicking over a cheap wooden door. You’re so broke.” “If I’m broke, why don’t you pay for it?” Behind me, Lucian spoke up lazily. “A door like that costs at least two hundred bucks. You got cash?” Hector bristled. “You freeloading piece of—” Halfway through his insult, Hector abruptly choked on his words. He stared dead at the pajamas Lucian was wearing, his expression turning terrifyingly dark. “Who gave you permission to wear that? Take it off right now!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “418519”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I announced to Lana that I wanted a divorce, the room froze. My father-in-law frowned, asking if it was because she was always locked in her art studio. I said it wasn’t that—it was what she was doing with the replica of the Statue of David. My mother-in-law exploded, shouting that Lana had severe postpartum depression, that she was just painting, and that we could hire a nanny if needed. Lana, livid, slapped me and swore she hadn’t cheated or betrayed me—she’d just been absorbed in her art lately. Was that really grounds for divorce? The guests whispered, giving me disgusted looks. I laughed coldly and pointed at her studio door. I told them the truth: since she claimed that sculpted marble was the only thing that satisfied her, I was letting her have it. The truth was, she never let me inside. In the center of the room stood a life-sized David. Ever since giving birth two months ago, she’d become obsessed with sketching it. She spent almost every day locked in there, surrounded by crumpled paper, unfazed even by our crying newborn. I’d had enough of this twisted charade. That’s why I served the papers. … I slammed the freshly printed divorce agreement onto the dining table. “Sign it.” Lana stared at me, utterly horrified, tears already pooling in her eyes. “Silas!” “Have you completely lost your mind? So what if I’ve been busy painting this month? I admit I neglected you, and I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you, okay?” She practically shrieked, playing the absolute victim. “Did you really have to bring up a divorce in front of all our friends and family?” I lifted my gaze and scanned the room. Today was our fifth wedding anniversary. Lana had used the occasion to throw a lavish dinner party at our house, claiming it was just an excuse for our loved ones to get together. Yet from the moment the night began, her eyes never once landed on me. She even locked arms and drank a toast with her childhood best friend, Blake, completely ignoring her own husband. I realized right then that dragging this dead marriage out was pointless. “Since you don’t want to make a massive scene in front of our guests, just be a good girl and sign the damn papers.” I dropped the icy ultimatum, absolutely drained of the desire to argue. A suffocating silence smothered the dining room. The guests exchanged incredibly awkward glances. For the past five years, everyone in our social circle believed we were the perfect, untouchable couple. Lana’s face drained of all color. Her shoulders trembled violently as she put on her best wounded expression. “I am begging you.” She stepped close to me, keeping her voice to a desperate, tearful whisper. “Silas, whatever your problem is, we can talk about it when everyone leaves. Please don’t do this here. You’re scaring my parents.” I violently shoved her hand away. “Do not touch me.” Seeing my hostile reaction, the mood in the room instantly turned toxic. Everyone glared at me with blatant disgust. My father-in-law slammed his wine glass onto the table. My mother-in-law’s face morphed into a vicious scowl. Lana stumbled back from my push, conveniently collapsing right into the waiting arms of her precious childhood buddy, Blake. “Silas, are you even a man?!” Blake completely lost it. He stepped forward, veins popping in his neck as he pointed a finger at my face. “Did you forget that Lana carried your baby for nine months? Her stomach is covered in stretch marks! She hasn’t slept a full night in a year!” “Did you forget that your complete lack of support gave her severe postpartum depression? She almost threw herself off a balcony! Her therapist literally told her she needed isolation and a creative outlet to heal!” “Now that she’s finally finding peace in her art, why the hell are you tormenting her?” “The baby is born, and now you think her stretch marks are ugly. You think her body is ruined, so you want to throw her away. You ungrateful, disgusting piece of trash! Have you no shame?!” Blake stood high on his moral pedestal, painting me as the ultimate villain of the century. Curses and a flying fist came straight for my jaw. But before his knuckles could even graze my skin, I easily slipped to the side. I stared him down, a chilling smirk creeping onto my lips. “My wife has stretch marks on her stomach. How exactly do you know that? Are you two…” Blake immediately panicked. “It is common medical knowledge! Ask any adult in this room, who doesn’t know that?” The guests around the table nodded in agreement, buying his pathetic cover-up. My father-in-law put on a stern face, trying to play the wise elder. “Silas, you cannot be this impulsive in a marriage. My daughter lost half her life giving you a child. This is the universe testing your bond. You have always been a stand-up guy. Don’t be a coward when things get tough.” My mother-in-law crossed her arms, letting out a loud, accusatory snort. “I always knew men were garbage. Asking for a divorce out of nowhere? I bet he has some little tramp waiting for him in a hotel room.” “Spit it out! Who is the home-wrecker? Is she forcing you to make her your legal wife? Is that why you’re torturing my daughter?” She aggressively rolled up her sleeves, looking entirely ready for a physical brawl. She patted Lana’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry, sweetie. Mom will handle the mistress.” I laughed out loud. It was a bitter, hollow sound. “The problem was never on my end.” “You can spin whatever fairy tale you want, but this divorce is happening today.” Lana’s eyes were swollen like walnuts. She took a deep breath, stepping forward to grab my hands. “Honey, please tell me what went wrong. You were never like this. Did you forget the vows we made at the altar? For better or for worse, in sickness and in health…” Watching her play the deeply devoted wife literally made my stomach turn. “Enough. Drop the act.” “Get the hell away from me!” I shoved Lana back with pure disgust. She let out a dramatic gasp, falling weakly to the hardwood floor, intentionally scraping her elbow. “Silas, I have had enough of your bullshit!” Blake’s face twisted in furious jealousy. He aimed a lethal glare at me. “If you dare divorce Lana today, I swear to God I will cripple you.” “I would rather Lana be a widow than let an ungrateful parasite like you drag her name through the mud!” Blake completely lost his temper. He charged at me like a raging bull, trying to tackle me to the floor and beat me to a pulp. I just chuckled darkly. “This is an issue between a husband and a wife. Why are you sweating so much? Who gave you the right to speak?” “We grew up together! I am practically her brother!” Blake spat the words like venom. I smirked. “The kind of brother that shares her bed?” “You’re full of shit!” “Your own mind is filthy, so you project it onto everyone else.” While he was busy acting morally outraged, I threw a devastating counter-hook. My movement was fast, brutal, and precise. Blake loved to show off his eight-pack abs on Instagram, but those were just gym muscles. He had absolutely no idea that I had spent years in a boxing ring. Watching her precious boy get manhandled, Lana let out a blood-curdling scream. “Silas, stop it!” “You’re going to severely injure him!” Seeing me lock my arm around Blake’s throat, watching his face turn a violent shade of purple as he choked for air, Lana panicked completely. In her frantic state, she grabbed a heavy, antique crystal decanter from the dinner table. She swung it with everything she had, smashing it directly into the back of my skull. The dining room erupted into absolute chaos. Guests screamed in sheer terror. “Oh my God! So much blood!” “Call an ambulance!” Warm, thick liquid cascaded down the side of my face, stinging my eyes. My vision blurred rapidly, the screaming fading into a muffled, underwater echo. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Lana’s trembling, pathetic voice. “Honey, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean it!” “I was just terrified you were going to kill him… I didn’t want you to go to prison for murder…” “I already called 911!” As my knees buckled and darkness swallowed me, I knew there was a bitter, mocking smile plastered on my face. Look at this. Look at my amazing, loving wife. To protect her childhood bestie, she cracked my skull open with a heavy piece of crystal. When I finally opened my eyes again, the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room blinded me. My head throbbed with an agonizing, explosive pain. “Silas, please don’t move.” “They just put fifteen stitches in your head…” I squeezed my eyes shut, letting out a dry chuckle. “Did you sign the divorce papers yet?” “The second I am discharged, we are going straight to the courthouse to finalize this.” Lana’s fake weeping stopped instantly. “Why are you still talking about a divorce?!” She stared at me in absolute disbelief, massive tears dropping onto the back of my hand. “Silas, I love you so much. The moment you got hurt, I was the one who called the ambulance! What kind of spell are you under?!” I couldn’t hold back my bitter laugh. “You love me? So you smashed my skull open with a crystal decanter?” If that was her version of love, I would rather she loved literally any other man on earth. My rhetorical question choked her up. She scrambled to defend herself. “Silas, that was pure instinct in a terrifying situation! You looked possessed! You were strangling Blake to death, and you terrified all of us.” “You know my family and his family have been neighbors for decades. Blake and I grew up together. We have known each other since we were in diapers.” “He was just trying to help us! He wanted to fix our marriage, and you said those vile, disgusting things to him!” “Shut up.” I cut her off with a voice made of ice. “Spin whatever lies you want. I am done listening. My answer remains the same. Divorce.” Even my in-laws, who had been eavesdropping at the hospital room door, exchanged uneasy glances. They clearly hadn’t expected me to be this ruthlessly decisive. They pushed the door open and barged in. “Silas, you are normally a very level-headed guy. Tell me the truth. Did Lana do something to break your heart? You tell me, and I will discipline her myself.” The person speaking was my father-in-law, attempting to play the good cop. But it was entirely a facade. Before I could even open my mouth, he flipped the script. “Or is there another woman in the picture?” “We are both men here. Do not let some young, flashy girl ruin your judgment and destroy the rest of your life.” My mother-in-law’s expression turned incredibly impatient as she chimed in. “Exactly. Married couples fight all the time. You argue at the dinner table and make up in the bedroom. Stop throwing a childish tantrum.” “A real man needs to have some capacity for forgiveness.” “If you scream for a divorce every time you get a little upset, how are you ever going to survive a marriage?” Lana suddenly displayed an unnatural amount of patience. She gently held my hand, leaning in close. “Honey, what kind of trouble are you in? Tell us. We are a family, we can fix it together.” “You are so insanely determined to get a divorce. Are you… suspecting something?” Beneath her cautious, fragile gaze, I saw a terrifying undercurrent of raw panic. Yet the tears just kept rolling flawlessly down her cheeks. “No matter what kind of mess you are in, I will never abandon you. You don’t have to push me away to protect me.” I stared at her, my face devoid of all emotion. Over the years we had been together, her tears used to be my ultimate weakness. Whenever she cried, I surrendered. Whatever she asked for, I gave her. She wanted to convert the massive guest room into her private art studio? I agreed. She hung a sign on the studio door that read “No Silas and No Dogs Allowed”? I laughed it off and let her have her space. But right now, I was done turning a blind eye. “There is nothing left to say, Lana. I just don’t love you anymore.” Lana flinched like she had been struck by lightning. Her eyelashes fluttered frantically. “What did you just say?” “Silas, I gave birth to your child! Does it not destroy your conscience to say something so cruel?!” She sobbed violently, her shoulders heaving for dramatic effect. Seeing that I was entirely unmovable, my father-in-law let out a furious snort. “Silas, remember that you asked for this.” “If you force this divorce, you are leaving with absolutely nothing. We will make sure you walk out of here penniless.” I simply closed my eyes and ignored him. Faced with my absolute apathy, they lost their minds, cursing me under their breath. They practically carried the weeping, devastated Lana out of the hospital room. “Stay strong, sweetie. A man like this isn’t worth your tears. Let’s go!” But their anger was laced with deep confusion. They couldn’t fathom how a perfectly happy marriage had spontaneously combusted into an irreconcilable nightmare. My best friend, Jaxon, heard I was hospitalized and rushed over to see me. “Silas, man, what the hell happened to you?” He had already seen the viral gossip online. My wife smashing a vase over my head to protect her childhood bestie during our anniversary dinner had become the hottest trending topic in our city. I was officially the internet’s biggest joke. Jaxon winced as he looked at my bandages, taking a deep breath. “You and Lana were the poster couple for true love. How did it end up in a bloody divorce?” I sat in silence for a long time before speaking. “Have you ever seen the Statue of David?” Jaxon blinked, confused. “The naked marble guy in Italy? The world-famous masterpiece?” “Yeah.” Jaxon listened quietly as I continued. “Lana has a life-sized replica in her studio.” Jaxon paused, then let out a relieved laugh. “No way. That has to be a cheap fake…” “Exactly!” I cut him off sharply. “It is a fake.” “And—” “It moves.” Jaxon froze completely. The realization hit him like a freight train. “Are you saying…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, his face cycling through sheer horror and disgust. Half a month dragged by. After I was discharged from the hospital and returned to the house, Lana completely changed her tactics. She wore an incredibly sheer, seductive nightgown, practically drowning herself in expensive perfume as she slid up next to me. “Silas, I know I have been freezing you out lately. Tell me what you don’t like, and I will change.” Her voice was husky and sweet, dripping with forced affection. She went from a cold artist to a desperate kitten. After five years of marriage, I knew exactly what this was. It was pure, unadulterated damage control. But every time I pictured that locked studio door, a wave of violent nausea washed over me. “Silas…” She wrapped her arms around me from behind, pressing her lips softly against the back of my neck. “Everything I held back from you before… I will give it all to you tonight… Ah! Silas, what the hell?!” Before she could finish her seductive whisper, I forcefully shoved her away. She tumbled backward, crashing onto the carpet. Seeing my aggressive, ruthless rejection, Lana’s fabricated patience instantly evaporated. “Don’t push your luck, you arrogant prick.” “Silas, I apologized. I begged. I literally threw myself at you. What more do you want from me?!” I looked at her flushed, rosy cheeks. I couldn’t tell if she was flushed from the anger, or if she had just been thoroughly entertained by someone else. “I don’t want anything. I told you, I only want a divorce.” I replied with a lazy, bored tone. Lana froze, reverting back to desperate begging, trying everything to manipulate my decision. “Silas, did you really forget the vows we made?” “You promised you would always stand by my side, no matter what. It has barely been five years!” “And our daughter is only a few months old! Are you truly cruel enough to abandon her? To let her grow up without a father?” “Silas, how can your heart be this cold?!” Lana’s eyes were bloodshot, massive tears streaming down her face. “If we divorce, what am I supposed to do? What is our daughter supposed to do?” I let out a dark chuckle, staring at her with dead eyes. “Why the hell would I care what you do?” Lana’s eyes filled with venomous disappointment. She ground her teeth together. “Fine. If you want to be a heartless monster.” “I might as well take the baby and jump off the roof.” She immediately bolted for the nursery, scooped up the baby wrapped in a blanket, and sprinted for the balcony. I sat on the couch, not moving a single muscle. I knew it was a pathetic bluff. She wasn’t going to die. Because I had heard her whisper to someone else that the person she and her daughter truly needed was never going to be me. Just as I predicted, Lana stood awkwardly on the balcony in the freezing wind, clutching the baby, completely frozen in place. “Silas, you really are a monster!” “You want a divorce so badly?!” “Then fine! We’re done!” A torrential downpour had started outside, but she dramatically carried the baby straight out the front door and into the storm. Barely ten minutes later. The front door was practically kicked off its hinges by her precious Blake. A barrage of furious insults rained down on me. “Silas, you are a piece of trash! Did you forget the time you got into that horrific car wreck? The doctors said you might never wake up. Lana stayed by your hospital bed every single day, wiping your face, taking care of you!” “And now you demand a divorce? Was your conscience eaten by a wild dog?!” Blake knew my reputation in our circle. He knew I valued loyalty and gratitude above all else. He saw my silence and assumed I was reminiscing about her past kindness, thinking my resolve was breaking. But I just stared at him with glacial eyes. “If she was the one who ended up in a coma, I would have taken care of her exactly the same way.” “But paying off a debt of gratitude doesn’t mean I am staying in this rotting marriage. I want a divorce.” Three days later, fueled by pure spite, Lana finally signed the divorce papers. But she added a brutal stipulation: I had to leave with absolutely nothing. I scoffed. “On what grounds? You are the one at fault here. If anyone is walking away with nothing, it’s you.” My mother-in-law’s chest heaved with fury. She rolled up her sleeves and pointed a shaking finger an inch from my nose. “Have you no shame?! How dare you say that out loud!” “My daughter paints pictures in her studio. What exactly did she do wrong?! You greedy, disgusting pig. Your math is brilliant. Are you going to demand the wedding ring back next?” My father-in-law was practically vibrating with rage. “You ungrateful parasite! Have you forgotten how you got everything you own?! Do not forget that I gave you your start. You were a penniless nobody when you met her!” “Now you’ve got a little money, you think you can disrespect us? You definitely have a mistress hidden somewhere. You dump my daughter, and now you want to leave her homeless?!” “I should call the local news right now and let the world see what kind of psychotic sociopath you really are!” Jaxon, who had been standing quietly behind me, finally stepped up. “I think you guys have a massive misunderstanding. Silas isn’t like that. There is a deeply messed up reason for this.” But I was exhausted. I was done arguing with brick walls. “If you refuse to let Lana leave with nothing, then we will settle this in front of a judge.” As I turned to walk out the door, the nanny tried to hand me the baby for a hug. “Mr. Silas, no matter what happens, the little lady is your own flesh and blood. How can you be so ruthless? Refusing child support is one thing, but how can you cut off their only lifeline?” I completely ignored her, brushing past without a second glance. Desperate to force my hand, Lana carried the baby and physically blocked my car on the street outside. Blake panicked, aggressively shoving my shoulder. “What the hell are you staring at?! Your wife and kid are standing in the middle of traffic! Go get them before they get hit by a damn car!” I laughed coldly. “If they get hit, that is none of my business.” But the universe has a sick sense of humor. A drunk driver suddenly blew through a red light, losing control of a massive SUV. The car clipped Lana and the baby. The baby was severely injured. She was rushed to the emergency room in critical condition, requiring an immediate, massive blood transfusion. Lana lost her mind. With nowhere left to turn, she dropped to her knees on the hospital floor right in front of a crowd of onlookers. “Silas, I am begging you! Please, go give your daughter your blood!” I stood there, absolutely untouchable. “Why the hell are you asking me for blood? Go ask your beloved David statue. I am sure he would be thrilled to donate.” Lana froze, her face instantly turning the color of chalk. The crowd in the waiting room erupted, cursing me, calling me a cold-blooded psychopath. They said I didn’t even deserve to be called human. “Her baby is dying, and he’s making jealous jokes about a piece of art?! A psycho like this shouldn’t even be allowed near women!” “He’s a controlling, demonic narcissist!” Lana’s face was stained with mascara and tears. She glared at me with absolute hatred. “Silas, I finally see you for the monster you are. Fine! We are getting divorced! And don’t you dare come crawling back to me when you realize what you lost!” In the end, it was Blake who miraculously happened to be a perfect blood match. He donated the blood. My cold, apathetic refusal was recorded by a bystander and uploaded to TikTok. The internet completely tore me apart. I was globally canceled in a matter of hours. “Oh my God, how does a man like this even exist? That is his own biological child! He deserves to rot in hell alone.” “Any woman who marries him is signing her own death warrant. Ladies, watch out for walking red flags like this guy.” Jaxon looked incredibly stressed. “Silas, the entire internet is calling for your head. Are you seriously not going to release a statement?” I shook my head, my face an emotionless mask. “There is no need to explain anything online. We just wait for the trial tomorrow.” I looked up, a lethal chill in my eyes. “Lana played me for a fool for way too long. I am going to destroy her.” The next morning. Lana and her parents arrived at the courthouse early, radiating arrogant confidence. Trailing closely behind them, looking incredibly smug, was Blake. They looked down their noses at me, issuing their final warning. “Silas, a judge isn’t going to side with a paranoid, controlling freak who throws tantrums over nothing.” “I suggest you plead guilty to emotional abuse right now. Maybe Lana will be generous enough to leave you one percent of the assets.” I ignored them completely, taking my seat at the plaintiff’s desk with an eerie calm. After Lana’s lawyer presented their fabricated evidence of my ‘cruelty’, the judge turned his attention to me. “Mr. Silas, your primary complaint is that your wife paints a replica of the Statue of David in her studio. How is this relevant?” “You absolutely cannot demand she forfeit all marital assets based on her artistic hobbies.” Facing their victorious, mocking smirks, I spoke loud and clear. “I have undeniable proof.” I slowly panned my gaze across the smug faces of my soon-to-be ex-family. “Right now, I am going to show this court the real reason I filed for divorce.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “418518”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The moment Tessa laid eyes on me at the Vanguard Corp. interview, she completely fell apart. It all started with the concert I’d been dreaming of for months. The night tickets went on sale, I pulled an all-nighter, but my frantic clicking was for nothing. They sold out in seconds. Gritting my teeth, I ended up forking over an extra four hundred dollars to a scalper for a floor seat. The next morning, I was jolted awake by the grim look on my roommate Tessa’s face. She was standing over my bed, her voice a low hiss. “Are you insane? Spending nine hundred dollars on a concert ticket?” I tried to explain patiently that my parents were fine with it, that it was my allowance to spend on things that made me happy. But her voice shot up, accusing me of being spoiled and thoughtless. She even threw out a sleazy warning about “girls who’d do anything for a designer bag,” telling me I needed to remember my “self-worth.” The night before the concert, my phone buzzed with a notification: Ticket refund successful. A moment later, an email from my academic advisor landed in my inbox. The attached grade report showed that I, who had always been at the top of my class, had failed several core subjects. Frantic, I ran to find Tessa, who was our department’s student representative. She just smirked at me. “Aren’t you just here for a good time, Sophie? What’s the rush?” Then, with a voice dripping in acid, she added, “Funny how the ones who act so innocent are always the ones with the most dirt.” Now, watching her stand here before me, utterly flustered and lost, the irony is almost too much to bear. 1 After finals wrapped up, I spent the entire night trying to snag a ticket for the concert I’d been waiting for all year. They were gone in a flash. Just as I was about to give up, a post popped up on social media—a friend of a friend was selling a floor ticket. The last one. My parents had just dropped fifty grand into my account for “expenses,” so I didn’t hesitate. I immediately offered four hundred dollars over the asking price and secured it. The next morning, I was still half-asleep when I felt a pair of eyes burning into me. I cracked mine open to see my roommate, Tessa, leaning deep into my curtained-off bunk, staring at me with an unnerving intensity. I jolted upright. “Tessa? What are you doing?” A chill crawled up my spine. “You didn’t go to sleep until 4:35 a.m., Sophie,” she said, her voice low and accusatory. “What were you doing up to, being all sneaky?” My bed curtains were drawn. How could she possibly know the exact time I fell asleep? Her dark, hollow gaze made my skin crawl. “Oh, uh, I was trying to get concert tickets,” I mumbled, trying to brush it off. “The show is next month. Can you move? I need to get up.” I gestured for her to get off my bed, but she acted as if she hadn’t heard me. Instead, she plopped right down on the edge of my mattress, her expression a strange mix of pity and amusement. She patted my shoulder. “Don’t play dumb. You stayed up all night for a concert ticket? Seriously, there’s nothing special about them. You can listen to any song you want online for free. It’s a total waste of money.” She wasn’t done. “Besides, it’s not easy to earn money these days. You really want to be one of those suckers throwing cash at celebrities? That’s your parents’ hard-earned money you’re burning!” I fought down a wave of irritation and climbed out the other side of the bed. “Tessa, you don’t need to worry about it. Finals are over, and I’m ready to relax. It’s not that expensive, and the experience is worth it to me.” I added, “And my parents are going with me. They love concerts too.” That seemed to set her off. “Not that expensive? I never took you for such a materialistic person! Your parents might spoil you now, but the real world won’t be so kind!” I almost laughed. Did this girl have any concept of boundaries? “Nine hundred bucks for one show? What a waste. Whoever marries you is in for a world of trouble.” She spat out the exact number, down to the dollar. My other roommates glanced over, their eyes wide. “Whoa, that’s a lot, Sophie. You sure you didn’t get ripped off?” one of them asked. How did she know the exact amount I paid on my own phone? I took a deep breath, about to explain I got it from a trusted source, when Tessa let out a cold snort. “Oh, a few hundred dollars is nothing to Sophie. She has her ways of getting money from men.” That was it. I’d had enough. I shoved her off my bed. “What did you just say, Tessa? It’s my money, what does it have to do with you? Don’t push your luck!” Tessa was not only our student rep but also a micro-influencer with a decent following. She was used to being the one in charge, the one nobody talked back to. My public defiance made her face flush a deep, blotchy red. “Whatever. There’s no talking to people like you,” she huffed, turning away. “I was just trying to be nice. Why do you have to pretend to be such a goody-two-shoes all the time?” I ignored her and headed to the cafeteria. But when I got back to the dorm, I found her hunched over my bed, her hand darting around under my pillow. She was so focused she didn’t hear me come in. “What are you doing?” I demanded. 2 Tessa yelped, startled. She quickly snatched her hand back, hiding whatever she was holding. “God, Sophie, can’t you walk like a normal person?” she snapped, her voice shaking. She was the one doing something shady, but somehow, I was the one in the wrong? My brows knitted together. “What were you looking for in my bed? You can’t just go through my things without my permission.” Tessa rolled her eyes, her face a mask of annoyance. “Do you have a persecution complex or something? You think you’re so special? Nobody wants to touch your stupid stuff!” With that, she stormed out of the room. That afternoon, during our department meeting, Tessa leaned against the whiteboard, her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on me. “Lately, there have been a lot of stories online about college girls selling their bodies to feed their vanity,” she announced to the room, her voice dripping with meaning. “We should all learn from their mistakes and uphold our integrity.” She tilted her chin in my direction. “Right, Sophie?” A few of the guys in the class snickered, their laughter grating on my nerves. I saw a couple of them looking me up and down with smug, knowing smiles. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to explode. “Who are you trying to call out, Tessa?” I said through gritted teeth. “Show some respect.” She pretended not to hear me. “You all probably don’t know this, but Sophie spent nine hundred dollars on a single concert ticket. Her skincare products cost thousands, all imported. Even her underwear is designer, costing hundreds!” Oh my god, this woman had absolutely no shame. A hot, uncontrollable rage surged through me. I kicked back my chair and shot to my feet. “What is wrong with you? Who talks about their roommate’s private life in front of the entire class? If you can’t control that mouth of yours, I swear I’ll shut it for you!” Tessa just smirked, her voice rising with excitement. “As student representative, I propose that her academic scholarship be revoked and the money divided among the students on financial aid! Sophie can clearly afford it; that three-thousand-dollar scholarship is less than what she spends on a concert ticket!” She paused for dramatic effect. “But for students like us, that money means more hot meals. It means less of a burden on our families!” Tessa was on financial aid. In fact, her entire influencer persona was built around being a poor, hardworking student who was pulling herself up by her bootstraps. Her sob story had gained her a lot of sympathy online. As soon as she finished, a murmur of agreement spread through the classroom. Divide my scholarship? Without even asking me? I was furious. I grabbed the nearest textbook and hurled it at her. “Are you deaf? I earned that scholarship with my grades! It has nothing to do with you. What gives you the right to give it away?” I then turned to the rest of the class. “And don’t you dare try to guilt-trip me! There are programs for students who need financial assistance. If you want money, earn it with your own merit!” After my outburst, I stormed out of the room, leaving Tessa fuming and stomping her foot behind me. As I crossed the main campus quad, I saw a large poster for Vanguard Corp.’s on-campus recruitment drive. The anger I’d just started to let go of came roaring back. I had been the one to convince Alexander Knight to hold a trial recruitment event at our university, begging and pleading with him to give my classmates a chance at a top-tier company. And this was the thanks I got. Fine. If they were going to be like that, I didn’t need to waste my energy. I pulled out my phone and dialed Alex’s number. His assistant, Mark, picked up. When I told him to cancel the campus recruitment drive, he agreed without hesitation. “Honestly, Mrs. Knight, the candidate pool wasn’t quite aligned with the corporation’s needs anyway. It’s better to cancel before we officially begin. Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything.” “Oh, and by the way, Mrs. Knight,” he added, “Mr. Knight knows you’re going to the concert. He had a dress custom-made for you. I’ll have it delivered later today.” “Thanks, Mark. Tell Alex to call me when he’s free.” Hanging up, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. No more trying to do good deeds for ungrateful people. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. I glanced down and saw a notification that made my stomach drop. [Dear Ms. Reed, your ticket refund has been processed successfully!] What the hell? I’d stayed up all night for that ticket. There was no way I would have refunded it. I was about to call the ticketing agency when a message from our academic advisor popped up in the group chat. It was a picture of the final rankings for the semester. My eyes scanned the list, and my heart stopped. I, who had never placed below first in my entire college career, was now at the bottom of the list. 3 I rushed to my advisor’s office, certain there had been a mistake with the system. My academic record had been flawless since my freshman year. I’d even felt I performed better than usual on these finals. How could my rank have plummeted so drastically? The moment I stepped into her office, I noticed the strange way my advisor was looking at me. There was a hint of disdain in her eyes. It was unsettling, but I was determined to sort this out. After carefully reviewing the grade sheet, I knew something was wrong. “Professor, these scores can’t be right,” I said, pointing to the paper. “How did I get a 49 in English? I have the highest proficiency score in our entire class.” My advisor, who was usually warm and supportive, was uncharacteristically cold. “Don’t you ever have an off day, Sophie? When something goes wrong, you should look for the cause within yourself, not immediately blame the system or your teachers.” Her tone sharpened. “And about that letter of recommendation for your study abroad application… I can’t write it for you anymore. Sophie, I have to say, a young woman needs to have some self-respect.” Her words left me completely bewildered. What did she mean, no self-respect? Connecting her strange attitude with Tessa’s recent hostility, a sickening suspicion began to form in my mind. I found Tessa and confronted her. “What did you do?” Tessa simply arched an eyebrow. “I submitted lower scores for you. So what? As the student rep, I have the authority. I was just ensuring a level playing field for everyone else.” Her voice was laced with a chilling self-righteousness. “The interview spot at Vanguard Corp. should go to someone who truly has the skills, not some gold-digging tramp like you!” So that was it. The internship. Tessa must have heard some rumor that the top-ranked student in our department would automatically get an interview with Vanguard. Too bad for her, she’d based her entire scheme on a lie. Tessa knew I was in the middle of applying to graduate programs abroad, that every single grade was crucial for my application. Yet she’d abused her position to knock me out of the running, all for the sake of some twisted idea of “fairness.” “I told the advisor everything,” she continued, her voice dripping with venom. “About your messy private life, how you stay up every night sexting with some guy. All those designer clothes you wear… they’re from your sugar daddy, aren’t they? If I were your parents, I’d die of shame.” Her words were getting more and more vicious. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had been patient for days, but I was done being a doormat. I raised my hand and slapped her, hard, across the face. “Are you sick in the head?” I seethed. “You spend all your time in the dorm spying on me. Are you that pathetic? The man I’m talking to every night is my husband, you psycho. So keep your filthy mouth shut!” Tessa clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with shock. “Don’t give me that crap! That guy sends you thousands of dollars at a time. If that’s not being a sugar baby, what is?” I almost laughed. The playful little money transfers Alex and I sent each other were, in her twisted mind, evidence of me being a kept woman.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “418517”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day the special police raided the scam operation, I was sitting on a small stool memorizing fraud scripts. Captain Luke Reynolds snatched the phone from my hand, his voice sharp with anger. “You could come and go freely. You even had your phone. Why didn’t you call the police?” I clutched my fraud notebook tightly to my chest and shook my head blankly. “Call the police? So you could send me back home? But Captain, even breathing is a luxury there.” Luke stood frozen in place. Since I was twelve, my grandmother had installed tiny cameras in my room — by my bed, at my desk, even in the bathroom — so she could monitor me around the clock. Every time I showered, I watched that little red light blinking, and I could barely breathe. I cried and begged my mother for help, but she only said: “Evelyn, I work so hard to make ends meet. Your grandmother only does this because she cares about you so much.” When I was sixteen, I saw a guy with bleached hair on the street and walked straight into that scam den. I couldn’t stand another second in that suffocating house.

When Luke grabbed the notebook from my arms, my instinct was to lunge forward and bite his hand. Two young officers held me back. I kicked my legs, eyes locked on that blue-covered notebook. “Give it back! It’s mine!” Luke flipped open the notebook and stopped. He turned page after page. There wasn’t a single fraud script inside. Just locks. All kinds of locks. Padlocks, deadbolts, security locks, combination locks. Each one had detailed cross-section diagrams with the internal mechanisms labeled. Even the number of pins was clearly marked. He closed the notebook, glanced at me, and shoved me into the back seat of the police car. The moment the door shut, my eyes swept across the corner of the ceiling. A small black sphere with a red light on top. A dashcam. I pressed my back against the car door, curled into a ball, and my teeth started chattering. “What’s wrong with her?” The young officer driving glanced at me in the rearview mirror. Luke turned around and frowned. “Turn off that dashcam in the back.” “But regulations —” “Turn it off.” The red light went out. My teeth kept chattering, but my body slowly relaxed. At the station, a short-haired female officer poured me a cup of hot water. Luke sat across from me, flipped through a file, and looked up. “Your family reported you missing. Did you know that?” I didn’t respond. “You were cleaning at that operation. You had freedom of movement. Why didn’t you think to call the police?” “What would you have done if I had?” “Sent you home, of course.” “I didn’t want to go home. Why would I call?” Luke’s pen stopped. “You can charge me with fraud,” I said. Luke put down his pen and reopened my file. After flipping two pages, his finger stopped on one line. “Evelyn Carter. Social Security number marked deceased.” He turned the file around to show me. “Two years after you disappeared, your legal guardian applied for a declaration of death.” “Legally, you’re already dead.” I looked at that line and smiled slightly. “Being dead is nice.” “What do you mean?” “Dead people don’t get watched.” Luke didn’t press further. He had the female officer take me to a single rest room. The room was small — one bed, one table, one incandescent bulb. The first thing I did after entering was stand on a chair, take off my jacket, and cover the smoke detector on the ceiling. That round white thing looked too much like a camera. After covering it, I climbed down from the chair and sat on the cot for a while. Then I lay down. The ceiling was stark white. Nothing there. No red lights. No reflective circles. No pinholes hidden in stuffed animal eyes. This was a clean room. Though it was a police station rest room, I slept soundly. In the hallway, Luke watched through the one-way glass as I curled up on the bed. He stayed silent for a long time. “Contact her family. Pull the police reports from back then.” Officer Foster acknowledged on the other end of the line. Luke glanced once more at me sleeping behind the glass and lowered his voice. “And find out when her family filed that death declaration.”

The next day, the station brought in a psychological evaluator. Dr. Morgan was a woman in her early forties wearing gold-rimmed glasses. She seemed kind. She pulled a voice recorder from her bag and placed it on the table. There was an indicator light on top of the recorder. When she pressed the switch, it lit up. Red. My stomach clenched violently. I vomited the oatmeal I’d eaten for breakfast all over the floor. Dr. Morgan jumped, quickly offering tissues. I pushed her hand away and dry-heaved several times. Tears streamed down my face. Luke heard the commotion and pushed through the door. He glanced at the recorder on the table with its red light and reached over to turn it off. “Put away anything with indicator lights.” Dr. Morgan opened her mouth but said nothing. She packed the recorder back in her bag. Luke pulled a pen and a palm-sized notebook from his pocket and set them on the table. “Nothing is watching you now.” He sat across from me. “You can talk.” I wiped my mouth with a tissue and stared at the table for a long time. “What do you want me to say?” “Start from the beginning.” I closed my eyes and began to remember. On my twelfth birthday, my grandmother gave me a teddy bear. Brown, palm-sized, fluffy, very cute. I slept with it for three days. On the fourth night, when I rolled over, my arm bumped the bear’s head. In the darkness, I saw the bear’s right eye flashing. Blinking red light. I took the bear to my desk lamp and dug the eye out with my fingernail. A pinhole camera, lens pointed right at my bed. Holding the now one-eyed teddy bear, I ran downstairs barefoot. My grandmother was sitting in the living room watching TV. “Grandma, what is this?” She glanced at the camera in my hand. Her expression didn’t change at all. “Your father’s dead, your mother’s not home. I’m an old woman who can’t keep an eye on you. What’s wrong with installing something to watch you?” I said I didn’t want it. She ignored me and changed the channel. I called my mother. On the other end, my mother’s voice was exhausted and tearful. “Evelyn, do you know how hard I work to support this family?” “You’re your grandmother’s only granddaughter. What’s wrong with her watching you? Can’t you understand what I’m going through?” I told her my grandmother had installed a camera in my room. My mother was silent for two seconds. “She’s old and worried about you. Don’t fight with her. I’m begging you, okay?” The call ended. The next day, the teddy bear’s eye was replaced with a new one. Still red. Luke’s pen stopped on the notebook. “And then?” Then there were more and more. One in the pencil holder on my desk. One on top of the wardrobe. One behind the alarm clock on my nightstand. One above the door frame. Every time I found one, I destroyed it. My grandmother just replaced it with a new one, hidden in a more concealed spot. The winter I turned fourteen, while showering, I happened to look up at the exhaust fan. Through the gaps in the metal blades, something was reflecting light. I stood on the wet bathroom tiles, completely naked, staring at that reflection for a full minute. Then I grabbed the showerhead and smashed it. The next day when I came home from school, my bedroom door was gone. The bathroom door was gone too. Even the door frames had been removed. The doorways gaped open. My grandmother stood in the hallway leaning on her cane. “You love smashing things? Fine. I removed the doors so you can’t close yourself in and do god knows what.” From that day on, I changed clothes, showered, and used the toilet without any doors. I tried using a shower curtain. My grandmother had someone remove the curtain rod. I tried blocking with a chair. My grandmother had all the chairs removed from my room. When I was fifteen, my uncle’s son Dylan came to stay during summer vacation. He was a year younger than me. He brought four or five male classmates. That afternoon I was changing out of my school uniform in my room. The doorway was wide open. I faced away from the hallway, moving quickly. Laughter echoed from the corridor. I turned around. Dylan was holding my grandmother’s phone, the screen showing a live surveillance feed. Four boys crowded behind him, watching together. “Hahaha, look at her.” I rushed over to grab the phone. Dylan shoved me away hard. He was half a head taller than me. The push sent me crashing into the door frame. The back of my head hit hard, raising a bump. I got up and went to find my grandmother. “Grandma, Dylan used the surveillance to watch me change.” My grandmother was in the kitchen making chicken soup for Dylan. She didn’t even turn around. “What’s there to see on a worthless girl like you?” “If you had half your cousin’s promise, would I need to watch you like this?” I said I’d call the police. When the cane came down, I didn’t dodge in time. Three strikes across my back. My clothes tore. Blood seeped through. My mother called that evening. I thought she’d stand up for me, but instead she said: “Evelyn, Dylan’s still young and doesn’t know better. Don’t hold it against him.”

She cried on the phone. “Do you know how hard it is for me out here alone? I’m so grateful your grandmother helps me take care of you.” “Just endure it. Once Dylan gets into college, things will get better.” But he wasn’t my brother. He was my uncle’s son. My uncle was my grandmother’s youngest son, her precious baby. And my father was the eldest son. An unwanted eldest son who was now dead. When I was sixteen, I found a waterproof camera in the bathroom drain. This time, I didn’t smash it. I started secretly saving money, skimming from my lunch money — one dollar, two dollars — hiding it in the lining of my backpack. I saved for two months. One hundred forty dollars. But my grandmother found the hidden compartment. That night, she locked me in the basement. All four walls of the basement were covered with screens. More than a dozen screens of various sizes — some old phones, some tablets. Every screen was playing surveillance footage. My room, my desk, me changing clothes, me using the toilet, me hiding under my blanket crying at night… Four years of footage, all there. My grandmother locked the basement door. From outside the iron door, her voice leaked through the gap. “You were born a Carter, you’ll die a Carter. Don’t even think about escaping my grasp.” I stayed in that basement for three days. Surrounded by images of myself. Countless versions of “me” staring at me from the screens. When I was released on the third day, I’d vomited six times. For the next month, I dry-heaved at the sight of anything reflective. Luke’s notebook was filled with writing. He never looked up. “Did your mother know about all this?” “She knew everything.” “What was her attitude?” “When she wiped the blood off me, she’d cover my mouth so I couldn’t cry out loud.” “She’d say, ‘Just endure it. Once Dylan gets into college, things will get better.’” When I was sixteen, my grandmother sent me to the store to buy eggs. When I reached the intersection, a guy with bleached hair shoved a flyer into my hand. “Health and wellness seminar. Free attendance, plus free eggs.” The back of the flyer had an address. Very remote. I held it and looked for a moment. The guy walked toward a white van parked by the roadside. The windows weren’t tinted. I could see the seats inside from outside. I scanned the interior. No cameras, no red lights. “Where’s this seminar held?” The guy turned back with a grin. “Get in the car and you’ll see. Real close.” I knew this was probably a scam. Those days, fraud operations were all over the TV news. But I turned and looked back the way I’d come. The doorless room, the basement plastered with screens, the waterproof pinhole in the bathroom… and my grandmother’s voice that rang out every morning at six sharp. “Evelyn, get up. I’m watching you.” Without hesitation, I got in the van. From that day on, I became one of them. Ironically, I finally had a room with a lock. I still remember that afternoon, holding the key to the storage room, standing at the door for a long time. Then I inserted the key and turned it. The bolt clicked out. I crouched on the floor, hugging my knees, and cried for a full hour. For the first time in four years, I had a door I could lock from the inside. Luke suddenly interrupted me. “Is that why you stayed at the scam operation?” I didn’t answer. I just lowered my head and looked at my fingers. “Mr. Reynolds, do you think the people at that operation were bad?” “Yes.” “They’re bad people. But those bad people gave me a lock.” “My own grandmother wouldn’t even give me a door.” Luke didn’t ask anything more. He picked up the peeled apple from the table and handed it to me. “Evelyn, no one will ever take your door away again.” I took the apple and bit into it. Suddenly, the door was pushed open. Officer Foster stuck his head in halfway, his expression grim. “The family’s here.” “Causing quite a scene outside.”

I heard crying from the hallway. “My granddaughter! My poor granddaughter!” It was my grandmother. Her legs didn’t work well, so she sat in a wheelchair, pushed by a caregiver. My mother followed behind, wearing a black cotton jacket, her face bare. They started crying as soon as they entered the station lobby. My grandmother’s crying was loud wailing, with slapping and shouting. My mother’s crying was silent, wiping tears, shoulders shaking. Several young officers on duty all looked over. “Don’t worry, we found the girl. That’s good news.” My grandmother grabbed the female officer’s hand. “I’ve been looking for her for four years!” “Her father died young. I’m just an old woman who raised her, and she just…” Halfway through, she clutched her chest, unable to breathe. The caregiver pulled out quick-acting heart pills and shoved them in her mouth. My mother dropped to her knees with a thud. “Officers, please, I’m begging you to let me see my daughter.” “I dream about her every night.” The officers who didn’t know the truth got teary-eyed. Someone went to open the interrogation room door. The moment the door opened, my mother rushed in and hugged me. Her arms locked around my back, her face buried in my shoulder. “Evelyn, my Evelyn, I finally get to see you.” All the officers nearby were wiping tears. How touching. But only I knew that the second she hugged me tight, her right index and middle fingers dug into the soft flesh at my waist. Her lips pressed against my ear, her voice masked by her crying. Only I could hear it. “If you say anything wrong, I’ll deal with you properly when we get home.” My body went rigid. Exactly the same feeling as when I was twelve. My grandmother’s wheelchair was pushed in front of me. She reached out her hand, trembling as she touched my face. In everyone else’s eyes, this was a white-haired old woman caressing her long-lost granddaughter. But I could feel her fingers searching through my clothes. From the collar to the back of my neck, from the roots of my hair to behind my ears. She was looking for bugs, for recording devices. She knew these things all too well. After finishing her search and finding nothing, her fingers stopped on my cheek, the pressure suddenly increasing. “If you don’t want to actually become a corpse… play dumb.” She released her hand, slowly lifted her face, tears streaming down as she turned toward Luke standing in the doorway. “Officer, this child isn’t mentally well. I need to take her home.” Luke stood in the doorway without moving. His gaze swept across my face and caught the two white fingerprints on my cheek. Then my mother pulled a medical record from her bag and handed it to Luke. “This is Evelyn’s psychiatric evaluation. Severe schizophrenia, diagnosed two years before she disappeared.” “No matter what she’s said, it can’t be taken seriously.” Ha. You’re really in a hurry. You don’t even know what I said, but you’re already rushing to discredit everything I’ve told them. Luke took it and flipped through two pages, glanced at me, and said nothing. My grandmother chimed in from the side. “We’ve already contacted a psychiatric hospital. She can be admitted today.” A white ambulance was parked outside, with two orderlies in blue uniforms waiting in the hallway. I clutched the table leg tightly. “I’m not going back! I won’t go back even if you kill me!” My mother lunged over and grabbed my arm. “Evelyn, you’re having an episode. Listen to me…” Two young officers who didn’t know the situation started to help. “Don’t move.” Luke stepped between me and that mother-daughter pair. “She’s a key witness in a major criminal case.” “No one’s taking her anywhere.” My grandmother’s face darkened. “She’s my own granddaughter. I have guardianship!” Luke slapped the medical record on the table. “The hospital that issued this record — Grace Recovery Hospital — had its license revoked three months ago for selling fake diagnoses.” “This thing is just a piece of waste paper to me.” My grandmother’s mouth twitched. Luke pulled out another paper from the file. “Also, Evelyn Carter is twenty years old, a person with full civil capacity.” “More importantly…” “Her Social Security number is marked deceased.” “You have no legal basis whatsoever to take away a dead person.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “383855”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Billionaire Ethan Foster used his own body to shield me from an out-of-control car. He lay in a pool of blood, his suit soaked in red. “Lana, now you owe me a life.” “You’ll never be able to repay it in this lifetime.” He was the youngest person to take control of the Foster family—a man who held power over life and death, noble yet cold-hearted. But for me, he’d eat street food with me in run-down neighborhoods. After we married, he tattooed my name over the scar on his collarbone, calling it his badge of honor, something he’d remember forever. Until that day when I came home early and pushed open the master bedroom door. He had a woman pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window, biting her earlobe as he laughed softly. “Baby, don’t bite so tight.” The man who once risked his life for me was making another woman cry in my bed on our wedding anniversary. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just silently removed the ring from my finger. “Ethan Foster, I don’t want you anymore.”

The instant I opened the door, the intimate atmosphere inside came to an abrupt halt. Ethan’s movements froze. When he saw it was me, he withdrew his hand from the woman’s body. “What brings you here today?” A strong arm wrapped around my shoulders, turning my gaze elsewhere. I knew he was protecting that woman. My eyes stung with tears. With a sharp smack, I slapped Ethan’s hand away and stubbornly turned my head, finally getting a clear look at the woman. Crimson lips, dressed in red—she was like a gorgeous rose, beautiful but thorny. I knew her. Vivian Lee, who’d joined the company just three months ago and became Ethan’s personal secretary last month. People had already reported to me that Ethan had been treating a young woman very specially lately. Back then, I firmly believed that Ethan, who cherished me like his own life, would never betray me. But before long, more and more incidents reached my ears. Until a friend sent me a video of Ethan beating someone up. In the chaos, I still heard it clearly. Someone had been making toasts, and when it was Vivian’s turn, she refused to drink. The person said a few unpleasant things, and Ethan went crazy. That night I sat alone until late, waiting for him to come home. Under my interrogation, Ethan explained that it just reminded him of the past. Back when Ethan and I got together, he lost his family’s support. To secure investments, I accepted everyone who came, drinking until I had a stomach hemorrhage. Even when people said disgusting things, I still had to smile and apologize. “Lana, do you know how much it hurt me to watch you smile and apologize to those people for my sake?” “I just saw her as you from back then.” “I should have done this long ago!” Hot tears slid down my neck. Held in Ethan’s embrace, I trembled for a moment, my emotions in chaos, with no energy left to dwell on it. Until I accidentally learned that the friend who sent me the video had been badly dealt with, and the assistant who’d reported things to me had been fired. That’s when I knew—Ethan had really fallen for her. “Miss Anderson, long time no see.” “I was just giving Mr. Foster a report.” “Got a bit close.” “I hope you don’t misunderstand.” “I’ll go back to work now.” Vivian wore a proper smile on her face, but her eyes were full of provocation. Before leaving, she thoughtfully closed the door. “When did you arrive?” Faced with Ethan’s probing question, I got straight to the point. “When you were biting her earlobe.” The man who’d always presented himself as gentle in front of me showed a cold expression for the first time. “Wouldn’t it be better to pretend you didn’t know?” “You’ve always been smart.” “Why are you being foolish now?” He sighed, his tone full of annoyance. Annoyed that I didn’t follow his wishes and pretend nothing had happened.

Before, I trusted him because he’d truly risked his life for me. Now that I’d seen it with my own eyes, I had no interest in playing dumb and humiliating myself. “Being foolish?” I looked up, forcefully suppressing the hidden pain in my heart, my tone cold and hard. “At least I’m smarter than when I chose you all those years ago.” At those words, Ethan’s expression darkened sharply. His large hand came toward me. I turned my head to avoid it and stepped back. “It’s either me or her.” “Make your choice.” He’d never considered giving up Vivian. Five years together, three years of marriage—he knew my vulnerabilities better than anyone. When I was fifteen, my father had an affair. From then on, my parents fought constantly. Eventually, my father couldn’t take it anymore and left home. My mother fell into depression, warning me never to trust love. In the end, she jumped from a building right in front of me. Once, to open my heart, he’d been willing to risk his life to save me. Now he wanted me to share him with another woman. This fickleness shattered the last bit of fantasy in my heart. I bit my lip hard, struggling to calm my burning eyes. I refused to show any weakness. “I’ll send you the divorce papers.” “Remember to sign them.” Propping up my crumbling body, I wanted to leave this place of heartbreak. Behind me, Ethan’s cold laugh came, piercing through me like ice. “Divorce?” “Lana Anderson, have you forgotten?” “You still owe me a life.” How ridiculous. His life-risking sacrifice had now become chains binding me. I forced out a bitter smile, concealing all emotion. I turned to face him, yielding nothing. “I was deliberately targeted because of you, drank until I had a stomach hemorrhage.” “Doesn’t that count as repayment?” Unfortunately, those closest to us always know exactly how to hurt us most. With just one sentence, Ethan completely broke through my defenses. “If it weren’t for you, would I have ended up in that situation?” “Back then, if my brain hadn’t been damaged, I wouldn’t have fallen for you.” “I’d have more than just today’s achievements!” Perhaps remembering those difficult times, he suddenly stepped forward and gripped my shoulder, using enough force to crush bone. “And everything you wear, use, and live in—which of it wasn’t given by me?” His large hand lightly patted my face. Humiliation surged through me.

His half-exposed chest came into view. On his collarbone, the scar tattooed with my name was particularly glaring. Back then, he said he wanted to cover my guilt, so he tattooed my name over it. Looking at it now, it only felt like mockery. “I’ll return all of it to you.” My resolve to divorce became even firmer, my tone decisive. “Return it with what?” Enraged, Ethan leaned down close to me. The scent of Vivian’s perfume mixed with his, choking me with disgust. “Stay here, continue being Mrs. Foster, behave yourself.” “Isn’t that good enough?” “Behave myself and watch you sleep with her?” “Be driven crazy by you and end up like my mother?” I shook off his hand, my fingertips trembling with cold. “Ethan Foster, I find it disgusting.” The word “disgusting” made Ethan explode in rage. He gripped me so hard my hand ached. Unprepared, I was dragged into the lounge and pinned against the door. “Disgusting?” “Who was it that held me and cried, saying she’d never forget me for the rest of her life?” That was my heartfelt confession when he lay in the ICU between life and death, and I knelt by his bedside. “What else was I supposed to do?” I forced back the tears in my eyes with a cold snort. “If I didn’t say that, would your parents have let me go?” To get this divorce, I was willing to let Ethan misunderstand. “You’re lying to me, aren’t you!” Ethan’s pupils shook. Clearly, he couldn’t believe it. “Does it matter whether it’s true or not?” Ethan’s eyes flickered, then he began to deflect. “She and I are just playing around.” “If you don’t like it, I’ll fire her.” Whether these words were sincere or not, I no longer had the energy to care. I just wanted to leave. A knock sounded at the door. Vivian’s affected voice came through. “Mr. Foster, the documents are here.” “They need your signature.” Ethan frowned. As if deliberately avoiding suspicion, his tone was impatient. “Leave them on the desk.” “But Mr. Foster, the documents are urgent…” Seizing the opportunity, I deliberately rammed into the scar on Ethan’s collarbone. He groaned and loosened his grip, letting me rush out. At the door, Vivian’s eyes were full of triumph, though she pretended concern. “Miss Anderson, did you argue with Mr. Foster again?” “He’s busy.” “You should be more understanding.” I ignored her and walked straight toward the exit. Ethan followed closely, shouting sternly to his security. “Stop her!” The guards immediately blocked my path. I turned back, heart filled with despair. “You’re going to imprison me?” “I don’t want to force you, but you’re not being good.” “When you come to your senses, I’ll set you free.” He said it as if I were the one who’d wronged him. “Come to my senses about swallowing my anger?” I laughed bitterly and left him with harsh words. “Even if you lock me up for a lifetime, I’ll never come back to you.”

At this moment, Vivian tried to grab me. I shook her off violently. “Get lost!” “With me gone, it’ll be easier for you to take my place.” Vivian staggered back with the force, her eyes instantly red and looking very wronged. “Miss Anderson, I know you didn’t mean it…” Without thinking, Ethan supported her and frowned as he scolded me. “Lana Anderson, don’t go too far!” This act of protection completely severed my last thread of hope. I looked at the security guards, my tone numb. “If you’re going to imprison me, hurry up.” “Don’t waste my time.” After being brought back to the villa, I walked into the bedroom myself, locked the door, and refused to see anyone. Unfortunately, my documents and phone were confiscated. I became an isolated island, able only to bite my lip hard in the deep of night to keep tears from falling. Whenever I remembered my mother’s warnings, I felt I deserved this fate. One morning, Vivian’s delicate laughter drifted up from downstairs. I watched coldly from the balcony as they walked side by side. I don’t know what she said, but Ethan lowered his head with a gentle smile. The necklace at his neck was inadvertently revealed. My hands hanging by my legs trembled. I remembered something. “Ethan, man, you’re really twisted.” “To save Vivian, you could pretend for so many years.” Marcus Wright’s voice came from the phone. He was Ethan’s best friend. Who would have thought— “What Ethan has is deep devotion, okay?” “If it weren’t for me, how could he have possibly taken that car for that bitch!” “If I hadn’t gotten sick and needed her bone marrow, Ethan and I wouldn’t have wasted all these years!” Ethan didn’t speak, but it seemed like a tacit acknowledgment. Just two short sentences, and I pieced together the truth. All his deep affection was just for my bone marrow. What he cared about was always me as Vivian’s donor. This realization completely shattered me. I finally remembered why I felt Vivian looked familiar when I first saw her. When Ethan was in a coma, his mother took me to pray at churches. A priest told us that great merit was needed to save him. Right then, the hospital called to say my bone marrow matched a patient. For that slim hope, I resolutely donated my bone marrow. Three days later, Ethan woke up. At the time, I thanked the heavens and didn’t notice that during his recovery, Ethan would always smile at a fellow patient. Looking back now, that person was Vivian. “You married her out of guilt back then.” “Now it’s exposed and she wants a divorce.” “Wouldn’t it be better to part on good terms?” Marcus asked my question. My heart instantly lifted. Unfortunately, Ethan didn’t answer. Vivian’s harsh mocking laughter answered for me. “Of course it’s because of me.” “This illness could relapse anytime.” “Naturally, it’s better to keep her as a blood bag!” As she spoke, Vivian changed her tone and acted cute with Ethan. “Ethan, her wanting a divorce now isn’t really working out.” “Women need to be coaxed.” “Vivian, don’t push your luck after getting a good deal!” “Exactly.” “If you weren’t so arrogant, she’d still be in the dark.” “How would she be demanding a divorce!” Loud laughter rang out. My already hollow heart no longer felt pain. What truly sent me into the abyss was what Vivian said next. “If she really divorces, how can I torture her?” “How can I avenge my mother?!” Who was Vivian’s mother? What deep grudge existed between us that made her hate me so much? Unfortunately, they quickly changed the topic. This question remained tightly wound around my heart, keeping me awake at night. From that day on, Ethan changed his approach. Every day when he came home, he’d knock on the door. His tone shifted from initially forceful to pleading. “Lana, let’s open the door and talk.” Knowing he was just putting on an act, I never responded. I just stared at the night sky, calculating how to escape. He cared so much about Vivian that he’d set up such an elaborate scheme for her. The villa’s security was impenetrable. Breaking out by force was impossible. I could only wait for him to let his guard down. On the fourth night, shortly after he knocked, there was commotion downstairs, followed by the sound of a car engine. I lifted the curtain and saw his car drive away. Half the guards at the entrance were also gone, and security had noticeably loosened. I held my breath and tiptoed out of the bedroom, pressing against the wall toward the servants’ passage. Ethan had once mentioned there was a back door there that many people didn’t know about. Just as I was about to reach the passage, Vivian’s delicate laugh came from behind. “Where do you think you’re going?” I froze completely. Turning around, I saw her with servants, smiling triumphantly. So today’s opportunity was just a game Vivian had designed to toy with me. In desperation, I rushed forward and grabbed her, gripping a candlestick I’d taken, pressing the sharp end against her face. “Don’t come any closer!” “Come closer and I’ll kill her!” Blood immediately seeped out. No one dared move. I took the chance to retreat. But before I could exit the passage, sharp pain struck the back of my head. My vision went black, and I lost consciousness completely. When I woke again, a suffocating sensation came over me. I saw Ethan with bloodshot eyes, gripping my collar tightly. “Where’s Vivian?” “Where did you take Vivian?!” I was stunned. Vivian was gone? Seeing me dazed, the enraged Ethan just waved his hand and shoved me down. “Talk!” “Or I’ll make you pay with your life!” “I don’t know!” Intense pain struck. I coughed up blood, reaching out my hand, but I couldn’t stop his movements. My hair was violently yanked, my head slammed against the wall. Blood immediately streamed down my forehead.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “383854”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

When I was eight months pregnant, I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs, ending up in the hospital. While waiting for a family member to sign for emergency surgery, My husband Nathan’s voice came through the phone, sounding anxious. “I can’t make it. I’m busy being the groom at Winnie’s wedding—her fiancé bailed on her again. Just find someone else to sign.” This was the second time I’d lost a child, and once again, I’d missed the critical window for surgery. I handled the funeral for my baby alone. Nathan still didn’t show up. When people asked where the father was, I replied gracefully that he was too busy with work to get away. In the family group chat, someone posted a video of Nathan and his secretary kissing passionately, unable to break apart. “Mr. Cooper and Miss Johnson are perfect for each other—childhood sweethearts, a match made in heaven.” Winnie Johnson said, “Stop joking around, everyone. Zoe is in this chat too.” Nathan replied casually, “Today is Winnie’s and my wedding day. Let’s not talk about unpleasant things!” On their wedding night, I stormed into the room with police officers. “I’m reporting him for marriage fraud, stealing my assets, and deceiving my feelings!”

A crowd of people surrounded them, egging them on to kiss passionately. I pushed open the door with police officers in tow, and immediately saw Nathan’s face covered in lipstick marks, completely lost in the moment. When Nathan caught sight of the police, his expression darkened, his tone dripping with hostility. “What’s the meaning of this? We’re having a good time, and you bring people to cause trouble? Are you deliberately trying to ruin my happiness?” “Are you sick or something? Can’t stand to see me happy, so you pick this exact moment to mess with me?” An officer stepped forward, his tone serious. “Someone has reported you for marriage fraud. We’re here to verify the situation.” Winnie pulled the blanket tightly around herself, her voice sickeningly sweet, her eyes full of provocation. “How could you file a false police report? You’re a lunatic with severe depression and mental instability. Who would believe anything you say? Have you ever told the truth in your entire life?” “I bet you’re just jealous that Nathan and I are getting married, aren’t you? Driven mad with envy.” Nathan expertly took Winnie’s hand, slipping a card into it discreetly, his face plastered with a fake smile. “Officers, don’t listen to her nonsense. This woman is a stalker who’s been following me around. She saw I was getting married and deliberately came to make trouble. You can’t believe a word she says.” He patted the officer’s arm. “Sorry you had to come all the way out here in the middle of the night. There’s money on this card—use it however you want. Consider it a token of my appreciation.” I clutched the marriage certificate and our wedding photo in my pocket, about to pull them out to expose their lies. Suddenly, Nathan’s grandmother struck me hard on the back with her cane, making me stumble forward. “You’ve ruined such a good day! You’re nothing but bad luck. You can’t give the Cooper family children, so why can’t we let someone else?” “You occupy the position of Mrs. Cooper but can’t even produce a child, and you still have the nerve to make a scene here.” Nathan’s grandmother pointed her finger at my nose, her tone full of disgust. “You’re being completely selfish. I watched Winnie grow up—she’s sensible and sweet, much more suitable for the Cooper family than you. You two should divorce immediately. Don’t hold Nathan back, and don’t prevent the Cooper family from continuing the bloodline.” I turned to look at Nathan. He stood behind his grandmother, head lowered, not saying a word the entire time. He had no intention of defending me whatsoever. Nathan’s grandmother left holding Winnie’s hand. As Winnie passed by me, the provocation in her eyes overflowed. After they left, Nathan slowly walked over, putting on a guilty expression as he took my hand. “Zoe, I know it was wrong of me not to be by your side when our child died. I shouldn’t have left you to face all this alone. Please don’t be angry with me.” He pressed a black card into my palm; the warmth from his fingertips made me sick. “Take this card. Find a nice place to lay our child to rest. Buy whatever you want on my card. Don’t make things hard on yourself.” He reached out to wipe the tears from my eyes, but I dodged sharply. The guilt on his face froze for a moment before he quickly covered it up. “Grandma wants us to divorce, but I won’t do it. I love you.” “Don’t overthink it. Winnie and I are just fake married. I couldn’t just watch a young girl get left at the altar and have people gossip about her, could I? Be the bigger person. Don’t stoop to her level, and don’t make me lose face in front of everyone, okay?” I gripped the black card, then touched the photo in my pocket, feeling nothing but disgust and mockery. His professed love, his guilt—it was all just to keep me in line, to prevent me from making this public.

Before leaving, he ordered me not to wear mourning clothes outside—said it looked inauspicious. He gave me a perfunctory kiss on the forehead. I ignored his words. I walked out of the hotel lobby wearing those very clothes, watched by everyone. At my child’s grave, two small headstones stood side by side—everything I had lost. My first child was only five months along when a car accident caused massive hemorrhaging, and I missed the critical window for treatment at the hospital. I was in that car. So was my child. And so was Winnie Johnson. When Nathan arrived at the scene, he only had eyes for Winnie. He rushed over, scooped up that woman, and ran toward the hospital without even glancing at me or our child. We were left in that freezing car, waiting for rescue that might never come. My child grew cold in my arms, bit by bit. On the way to the hospital, the bleeding wouldn’t stop. In the end, we couldn’t save the baby. I pounded on Nathan’s chest with all my strength, each blow using every ounce of my power. I demanded to know why. Why didn’t he save his own flesh and blood? Why did he only have eyes for that woman? Nathan frowned and sighed. “Zoe, don’t be jealous over nothing. Winnie and I grew up together. I only see her as a sister.” “The situation was urgent. I heard you and the baby calling for help, so I figured you were both alive and could wait for other rescue. But Winnie was unconscious and silent. She’s an only child. I couldn’t let her parents lose their only daughter.” I found it laughable. Simply put, in his heart, my child and I couldn’t even compare to an outsider. He slapped himself while talking, looking pained and remorseful. Seeing him like that hurt and filled me with hate, but I couldn’t bear to scold him anymore. I didn’t even have the strength to blame him. Nathan comforted me, saying we could have another child to make up for the loss. I crouched in front of the headstones, talking to my children for a long time. I had failed to protect them. By the time the sky began to darken, I dragged my heavy body home. As soon as I entered the courtyard, I saw a pile of things burning—all my children’s belongings: toys, clothes, and the little blankets I had carefully prepared. Winnie stood to the side, directing servants to throw items from the nursery into the fire one by one, a smug look on her face. I rushed forward and slapped her hard across the face, my voice trembling with cold fury. “Who gave you the right to dispose of my children’s things without my permission?” Winnie covered her face, sobbing. “Nathan asked me to help you move past the grief of losing your child. I did this for your own good.” “Out of sight, out of mind—it’ll keep you from dwelling on it.” Looking at her fake, affected expression made my stomach churn. She threw the birth photos I’d taken of my children into the fire. The photos were instantly consumed by flames. “That little thing is dead and gone. I’m helping you with exposure therapy so you don’t fall back into severe depression, have a mental breakdown, slit your wrists, and play the victim to get Nathan’s sympathy.”

I grabbed my child’s photo from the fire with my bare hands and raised my hand to slap her again. Before I could say anything, Nathan appeared from behind, grabbed my collar, and yanked me backward. “The moment I’m not around, you target Winnie like this. Who gave you the nerve? Look at yourself—what makes you think you’re worthy of touching even one hair on her head?” Winnie spoke up to explain. “Nathan, don’t blame her. I should have told her before disposing of those useless things. She was right to slap me twice. If she’s still not satisfied, she can slap me as many times as she wants. I won’t blame her.” Nathan softened his tone and quickly walked over to Winnie. His hand gently touched her face, his voice full of affection—completely different from the disgust he showed me. “You’ve always been too soft. You’re born to be bullied. I’ve told you before—if someone hits you, hit them back. But you never listen. Now look what’s happened—any random person thinks they can push you around.” Nathan turned and shouted at a bodyguard. The guard immediately stepped forward and pinned me down. My knees hit the ground. Looking up, I could see Nathan holding Winnie’s hand, his eyes dark and menacing as he stared at me. “She hit you, so you hit her back. Hit her hard. Don’t be afraid—I’m here. I’ll teach you how to deal with this kind of bitch.” He controlled Winnie’s hand and slapped it hard across my cheek. The burning pain spread from my face to my temples. He was about to do it again when Winnie pulled her hand away, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Nathan, forget it. Hitting her hurts my hand. She’s not worth dirtying my hands over.” Nathan immediately took her hand with concern and shouted at the servants. “What are you standing around for? Get some ice packs for her hand!” Then he glanced at me with even more disgust and ordered someone to drag me to the basement and lock me up. For a full day and night, they gave me nothing to eat and didn’t give me my psychiatric medication either. My condition developed after losing my first child, compounded by prolonged work stress. Without my medication on schedule, I became dizzy and disoriented. My whole body went weak. My mind was filled with images of my children. The sound of high heels clicked on the basement stairs. I didn’t need to guess—it was Winnie. She stood before me with an air of superiority, like a peacock, playing with my pill bottle in her hand. “I came specially to bring you your medicine. Looking at you now, you must be suffering, right?” Winnie sneered. “You need to apologize for those two slaps yesterday. If I’m satisfied, I’ll give you this medicine. Otherwise, you can wait here until the pain drives you insane.” I bit my lip, tasting blood in my mouth. “In your dreams!” I gathered all my strength and lunged forward to grab the pill bottle, but lacking the strength, I lost my balance and fell onto Winnie. My hands clutched desperately at her arms, my only thought to get the medicine back. Winnie screamed in fright and pushed hard against me. I held on tight, refusing to let go.

“Are you crazy? Murder is illegal!” Nathan kicked me away. My back slammed hard into the wall as he pulled Winnie into his arms. He turned to face me, his voice full of reproach. “Don’t push it. I tolerated you bullying Winnie once, but that doesn’t give you the confidence to do it a second time.” I was busy dry-swallowing the pills I’d managed to grab. After regaining normal consciousness, I slowly stood up, supporting myself against the ground. My eyes reddened as I caught sight of their intertwined fingers. This man now looked at me with eyes devoid of any light—only darkness remained. That night, to more conveniently take care of Winnie, Nathan let her move into our master bedroom and banished me to the guest room. Through the door, I could clearly hear him going downstairs in the middle of the night to cook her a midnight snack. I stuffed earplugs in my ears and forced myself to close my eyes and sleep. The next morning, I opened the door and came face to face with Winnie. She said flatly, “I couldn’t get used to the pillows here last night. Luckily Nathan let me sleep on his arm. He barely got any rest all night.” She added sweetly, “He even got up early this morning to make me oatmeal.” I looked toward the kitchen at Nathan wearing an apron—a sight I’d never seen before. Too unfamiliar. I had never once seen him voluntarily cook during my pregnancy. I didn’t stay for the so-called breakfast. I went straight to the office and found an intern sitting at my desk. HR told me, “Mr. Cooper adjusted your position. He thinks your mental state isn’t suitable for continued work and wants you to rest properly.” Even the project I’d worked on for a full year had been handed over to Winnie. I left the company carrying a cardboard box, didn’t linger, and went straight to print out the divorce agreement I’d prepared in advance. I went home, walked into the study to find Nathan. He looked up, saw the document in my hand, and didn’t even open it to check the contents. “Zoe, I’m glad you’re willing to ask me for things. If your health isn’t good, just rest at home.” “Leave the rest of the project to Winnie.” He thought I was asking for the house or money. He picked up a pen, signed decisively, and handed it back to me. His face showed relief. “You finally understand my intentions. As long as you don’t make a fuss, I’ll give you whatever you want.” I didn’t say another word to him. I took the signed divorce agreement and left home alone, went to the airport, and bought a ticket to the Maldives. Before the plane took off, Nathan’s call came through. I looked at his name flashing on the screen, didn’t hesitate for a second, and threw my phone straight into the trash. When I reached my destination, I looked out at the endless sea. Nathan—I never wanted to hear his voice again for the rest of my life.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “383853”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

After my rebirth, I saw Simon again, dressed in his signature suit. He pinched the bridge of his nose, staring at me with visible frustration, and casually pushed a bank card across the table. “There’s five million in this card. Consider it compensation for all those years you spent lost out there. I’ve also bought you an apartment in the city center. You should move out today.” “You know Miranda doesn’t like you. Every time she sees you, she ends up in the hospital.” Miranda was the fake heiress who’d been switched at birth at the hospital all those years ago. Simon paused, his expression somewhat unnatural. “If you need anything else, as long as it’s not too much, I can satisfy your requests. But from now on, don’t come back to this house.” In my previous life, I’d refused the money he offered, focused only on winning my family’s love. To please Simon, I’d worked factory shifts to buy him gifts, only to be killed by a drunk driver on my way to see him. When he learned of my death, he felt no sadness—only relief: “That clingy pest is finally dead. I can finally live in peace.” It turned out that the family affection I’d desperately longed for was nothing but a shackle around his neck. This time, I calmly tucked the bank card into my pocket: “Thank you. I have one more condition. Give me ten million, and we’ll sever our relationship completely.”

“What did you say?” Simon looked at me in disbelief. I simply gazed at him calmly and repeated: “Give me another ten million, and I’ll sever ties with you. From now on, I’ll never appear before you again.” “That way, Miranda won’t have to be hospitalized every few days because of me. Ten million in exchange for Miranda’s good health—that’s a bargain, isn’t it?” Perhaps finding my proposal absurd, Simon remained silent for several seconds before speaking: “Do you love money that much? For ten million, you’d give up your own family?” I looked at him and nodded. I did indeed need money. In my previous life, forget ten million—even a thousand dollars would require me, a high school graduate, to work grueling factory shifts for ten days. In this lifetime, family affection meant nothing compared to money. Born again, I only wanted to survive—and to live comfortably and happily. “I just want ten million.” Simon’s chest heaved violently with anger. “I knew it! You’re nothing but a gold digger!” He probably felt ashamed to share blood ties with someone so obsessed with money. “Fifteen million total, right? Sign this voluntary severance agreement, and the money will be transferred to your card immediately.” I picked up the pen and wrote my name—Chloe—on the severance agreement. Under Simon’s complicated gaze, I walked out of the Christopher family mansion, gripping the black card containing fifteen million. “Miss Chloe, Mr. Simon instructed me to take you to your new home.” The driver quickly opened the car door when he saw me emerge. I glanced back. Simon’s silhouette was reflected in the second-floor window of the Christopher mansion. He watched me leave. In my previous life, he’d been just as considerate at first. On my first day moving into his house, he’d already prepared an exquisite room for me: A large wardrobe, flowers filling the room, sheets smoother than my own skin. It was these small gestures of warmth that made me believe this was the family affection I’d longed for. That’s why I’d thrown myself at him like a moth to flame, desperate to please him. But in reality, it was merely politeness on his part. In his heart, his only sister would always be Miranda. Every time Miranda accused me of something, he’d believe her unconditionally. Of course, having died once already, I no longer cared. Snapping back to reality, I politely said to the driver: “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” I pulled out my phone and hailed a ride. Since we’d agreed to sever ties, I wouldn’t use the Christopher family’s car anymore. I didn’t need his so-called consideration, not even a little.

Three days later, at a café. “Miss Chloe, the contract is now in effect. You’re officially a shareholder of Spring Company.” Three days ago, when I’d received that fifteen million from the Christopher family, I’d already decided how to use it. Now, I’d successfully converted it into the equity contract in my hands: Fifteen percent of Spring Company’s shares. Company President Alexander excitedly shook my hand: “Miss Chloe, thank you for your trust. We’ll use this capital where it counts most. I guarantee you won’t lose money on this investment.” I nodded. Of course I knew he wouldn’t let me lose money. Spring Company—the future Spring Group—would become the world’s largest drone manufacturing company, ranking among the Fortune 500. This fifteen million investment would yield returns of a hundred, even a thousand times in the future. “For the follow-up business plan, how about I take you to dinner sometime and explain everything in detail?” Alexander asked sincerely. I shook my head. “Thank you, Mr. Alexander, but dinner won’t be necessary.” “As for business matters, I trust you. Leave professional matters to professionals.” “I invest in people.” I paused, then added: “Besides, I’ll be starting classes soon.” Alexander looked startled: “Classes?” “I enrolled in a finance training program. They teach you how to evaluate projects and calculate return rates.” I smiled: “My foundation is weak. I need to start from scratch.” He studied me for two seconds, didn’t press further, and simply said: “Alright then. You’re welcome to visit the company anytime.” Leaving Spring, I headed straight to the office building where I’d registered for classes. The finance training program was on the twelfth floor. When I pushed open the door, the classroom was already more than half full. As I looked up to find a seat, my peripheral vision caught a familiar face in the front row by the window—Miranda. Two or three girls surrounded her, smiling as they listened to her talk. Just like in my previous life, wherever she went, she was the center of attention. I didn’t look twice. I walked straight toward the back row. But just as I passed by her, she suddenly looked up. Our eyes met. She froze for a moment, then curved her lips into a smile, her voice neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for the people around her to hear: “Chloe? What are you doing here?” “This class isn’t cheap, you know. Simon just gave you some money and you’re already squandering it like this?” I didn’t respond. She frowned slightly, as if suddenly understanding something: “I should have known—poor people have limited horizons. Get a little money in their hands and they don’t know who they are anymore!” “Don’t tell me you think taking these classes will turn you into some sought-after professional?” She laughed lightly, her mockery unconcealed. “But at the end of the day, this is all just theory. Without a family business, all the studying in the world is useless.” “Unlike me—Simon’s already letting me practice real investments at the company. I’m only here to get a certificate.” A girl beside her immediately chimed in: “Miranda, Simon treats you so well.” “Of course he does.” Miranda smiled with her eyes curved, her gaze sweeping over me as if by accident: “Let me tell you, these days, studying theory alone is completely useless.” “Just the other day, there was this PhD graduate from some prestigious school who came to see Simon—what was his name, Sergio something. He begged Simon for investment, acting as submissive as a dog.” “For just five million in investment, he’d do whatever Simon said. Even when Simon scolded him, he had to smile and apologize. What good is a high degree? In the end, he’s still—” I suddenly looked up at her. Five million? Dr. Sergio? Sergio Reyes! It had to be him! I remembered this man. In my previous life, Simon had mentioned him countless times—the investment he most regretted not making. This man he’d treated like a dog would become someone far beyond his reach in the future. The five million investment now. In six years, it would be worth at least fifty billion!

Seeing me suddenly stare at her, Miranda assumed her words had struck a nerve. She sneered: “What? Finally getting it? Realizing that studying theory alone won’t work? You need money in hand!” She closed her book, turned around, and suddenly became generous: “Tell you what—Simon bought you that apartment, right? You living there is just a waste. Sell it to me. I’ll give you five million.” “With that five million, you can actually practice investing!” She smiled sweetly, but her eyes were full of condescending charity. I understood. She just didn’t want me living in the apartment Simon had prepared. She didn’t want me to have any connection with Simon whatsoever. But it suited me just fine. “Sure,” I said with a smile. Miranda froze, clearly not expecting me to agree so readily. But soon, she smiled again: “Great. Send me your account information.” My phone buzzed. Five million deposited. I looked at that number, about to thank her, when I suddenly heard— “Idiot!” Miranda burst out laughing: “I told you—you’re poor with limited vision and don’t understand investing, and you still don’t believe it.” “Did you research the location? Do you know how much this apartment will be worth in a year?” “Six million!” “A 120% return rate in one year—that’s real investing!” “You don’t even know to hold onto the most profitable real estate. Give you all the money in the world, and it’ll just go down the drain!” The people around her joined in mocking me. But I simply looked at her calmly. Of course I knew the apartment would appreciate in a year. But six million would be its peak price. In the future, the real estate market would crash. The longer people held onto these properties, the more they’d lose. Sergio Reyes’s project, on the other hand, had the most promising future. It would yield returns of a hundred, even a thousand times. And my most important task right now was: finding Sergio Reyes. “Class is starting.” Just then, the class bell rang at the perfect moment. Everyone stopped talking and returned to their seats. The teacher walked in—a middle-aged man wearing black-framed glasses. He spoke quickly and flipped through his PowerPoint slides just as fast. I put away my thoughts, opened my notebook, and started listening attentively. Honestly, much of it was still too advanced for me. IRR, valuation models—they sounded like gibberish. But I wrote down every word, circling anything I didn’t understand to look up after class. During the entire two-hour class, I didn’t lose focus for a second. When the bell rang, I’d already filled six pages of notes. The moment I looked up to rest, I suddenly noticed someone standing at the door. Sergio Reyes.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “383852”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Three days before we were supposed to get our marriage license, a massive fire broke out in the building where Ethan Gray’s startup was located. Ethan and I were trapped in the office on the sixty-eighth floor. While escaping, a load-bearing steel beam overhead came crashing down. I pushed him out of the way and got pinned beneath the debris. A piece of broken rebar pierced straight through my right shoulder blade, less than an inch from my heart. Blood gushed out instantly, staining my white shirt crimson. The thick smoke choked me until I coughed up blood. I looked desperately at the man before me—usually so calm and composed. “Ethan, call 911… or call the rescue team…” My voice was barely a whisper. Every breath sent searing pain through the puncture wound, and blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. Just one phone call to give our location, and we could survive. He was about to make the call when his expression changed after seeing a message on his phone. “Sorry, something happened to Vanessa…” Ethan knelt before me, his suit covered in dust, prying my fingers away from his arm one by one. “Chloe, you’ve always been strong. You’ll be fine. Vanessa is different.” Hearing his words, my heart sank bit by bit.

Vanessa Sullivan was Ethan Gray’s wealthy first love from high society. That girl had been pampered her whole life. She never had to support Ethan’s startup by living in a basement for three years eating bread, ruining her stomach, or drinking until she had a bleeding ulcer just to attract investors for him. All she had to do today, when Ethan had finally made it, was shed a few tears to throw him into complete chaos. “Ethan… it hurts so much…” I clutched my wound, trying to grab his pant leg. Ethan took a deep breath and avoided my hand. He fell silent for a moment, then finally took out his phone with only two percent battery left and dialed the number he knew by heart. The moment the call connected, his tense voice instantly became gentle and anxious: “Vanessa, did the power go out where you are? Don’t be scared. Just stay in the apartment elevator and don’t move. I’ll figure out a way to come save you right now.” The phone screen’s faint glow illuminated his sharp features. My heart, in that moment, felt hotter than the flames around us, yet instantly fell into an icy abyss. “Ethan Gray…” I called his name desperately. “I’ve lost so much blood. I’m going to die…” He covered the phone’s mouthpiece, turned his head, and scolded me with furrowed brows: “Chloe, just hang in there! The building fire caused a massive power outage in the area. Vanessa is trapped in her apartment elevator! She was locked in a basement for three days and nights years ago when she saved me—she has severe claustrophobia! Can you imagine how terrified she must be alone in the dark right now?” “But… the rebar went through my bone…” My whole body convulsed with pain, tears mixing with blood as they hit the ground. “Beep—” The phone died completely and went dark. Ethan irritably shoved his phone in his pocket, took off his designer suit jacket, and roughly pressed it against my wound. “Ahhh—!” The intense pain made me let out a piercing scream, and my vision went black. “Stop screaming!” His tone was cold and impatient. “Chloe, you’ve always been sensible and strong. What’s a little pain? You have a strong constitution. You can definitely hold on until the rescue team searches floor by floor. Vanessa’s mental state can’t handle this kind of trauma. I have to go make sure she’s safe.” He stood up, looking down at me from above. “Ethan Gray.” I stared at him intently, using the last of my strength to ask, “What if the rescue team doesn’t come and I burn to death?” His jawline tensed, his eyes completely devoid of warmth: “Are you using these extreme words to force me to give in again? I’m just making the most rational choice. Once I confirm Vanessa is okay, I’ll bring people to save you immediately.” With that, he turned without hesitation, his tall figure quickly disappearing into the smoke-filled corridor. Flames gradually closed in, the surrounding temperature so high it felt like it would melt a person. I lay on the scorching floor, watching the direction he left, the last bit of warmth in my heart completely burned to ashes.

I don’t know how much time passed before the door was violently split open with a fire axe. “There’s a survivor here! Quick! Stretcher!” Blinding flashlight beams shone on my face as several fully equipped firefighters rushed in. Seeing the horrific rebar through my shoulder blade and the huge pool of blood on the floor, even these experienced rescue workers gasped. “The victim has lost massive amounts of blood and is in severe shock! Start cutting immediately, prepare the cardiac stimulant!” The vibration from the saw cutting the rebar made me hurt so much I didn’t even have the strength to scream. In the second before I lost consciousness, I heard a voice come through the walkie-talkie from downstairs: “Captain, we found a male outside the building perimeter trying to force his way into the apartment building across the street that lost power. We’ve detained him…” I closed my eyes, a tear of despair sliding from the corner of my eye. When I woke up again, it was three days later. The smell of disinfectant was pungent. I struggled to open my eyes to see the white ceiling of a VIP hospital room. Hearing the sound, the man sitting on the sofa slowly uncrossed his legs. “You’re awake?” Ethan’s tone was flat, as natural as if he were asking what I had for breakfast. He walked to the bedside and opened a premium thermos on the table, ladling out a bowl of fragrant chicken soup. “This is from that exclusive restaurant you love. I had my assistant wait in line for two hours to get it.” He scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and brought it to my lips. “Eat. The doctor said you need nutrition.” “Take it away.” My voice was as hoarse as sandpaper rubbing together, so weak I didn’t even have the strength to turn my head. Ethan’s hand froze in midair, a flash of impatience in his eyes. “Chloe, how long are you going to throw this tantrum?” He set the bowl down heavily on the nightstand, soup splashing out. “I told you, I can’t be an ungrateful person. You’re out of danger now, aren’t you? It’s just some superficial injuries. A few days of rest and you’ll be fine.” A nurse pushing a medication cart walked in just in time to hear this and turned pale with anger. “How can you talk like that as a family member?” The nurse pulled back my blanket and unbuttoned my hospital gown, revealing the horrifying scar with over twenty stitches. “The patient’s wound came within a hair’s breadth of piercing her heart. When she arrived, she was already in severe hemorrhagic shock. We spent a day and night in ICU resuscitation to bring her back! If you’re family, please get it straight—this is a severe penetrating injury, not some superficial wound!” Ethan’s expression instantly darkened, his cold gaze sweeping over the nurse: “This is our family business. It’s not your place as an outsider to interfere.” The nurse was frightened into silence by his terrifying look, her eyes reddening as she changed my dressing. Ethan turned his head, looking down at me from above. “I know you feel wronged. But these past few days I’ve been busy with the company’s post-disaster reconstruction, and I’ve had to take care of Vanessa after her shock. I’m already exhausted. Can you be a little more understanding?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone carrying a patronizing compromise. “The day after tomorrow is the day we agreed to get our marriage license. After we register, I’ll take you to Europe to relax. You can pick out whatever bags you want. Let’s just turn the page on this, okay?” I looked at him quietly, suddenly feeling he was completely unfamiliar. He was used to my five years of unconditional devotion and compliance. He was certain I loved him to the bone, certain I couldn’t leave him. So he could brazenly trample my boundaries, treat my life as worthless, then hand out some cheap material compensation to dismiss me. Just then, his phone rang with a special ringtone. He answered almost immediately, his previously cold voice instantly becoming so gentle it could drip honey: “What’s wrong, Vanessa? Another nightmare? Don’t be scared, I’m coming right over.” After hanging up, he grabbed his coat from the chair without hesitation. “Vanessa’s emotionally unstable. I need to go see her.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his suit pocket and placed it on the nightstand. “This is the marriage health certificate. Day after tomorrow at 10 a.m., I’ll wait for you at the county clerk’s office entrance. Don’t be late.” At the door, he stopped and looked back at me, his tone carrying a warning: “Chloe, don’t disappoint me.” The hospital room door closed. I looked at that red-stamped marriage certificate, and beside it, his blood-soaked shirt from when he pressed it against my wound that day in the fire—now dried and blackened. Using what little strength I had left, I swept both the marriage certificate and the bloody shirt into the trash.

The process of changing the dressing was like slow torture. The gauze tore at my flesh. I broke out in cold sweat, biting my lip hard until I tasted the strong metallic tang of blood. The nurse wiped my sweat with pity, her eyes red: “Your fiancé is too heartless. How could he leave you alone at a time like this to go be with another woman?” I said nothing, just managed a pale, transparent smile. It didn’t matter. I didn’t need him anymore. After the intense pain subsided, I leaned against the headboard and opened my social media. The first post was one Vanessa had just updated. In the photo, she leaned delicately against Ethan’s chest while he looked down cutting her steak, his eyes full of undisguised affection. The caption read: “No matter how terrifying the darkness, as long as you’re here, I’m not afraid of anything.” Below was her own comment: “Some things can’t be stolen through desperate clinging. Those who are favored will always act without fear.” I stared at the screen, my stomach churning with spasms. This was the “emotionally unstable” first love who had been “severely traumatized” according to Ethan. That afternoon, Ethan returned. He pulled out an exquisite velvet box from his briefcase and tossed it onto my blanket. “I’ve had my assistant transfer that hillside villa in the southern district into your name.” He pulled out a chair and sat down, his tone full of arrogant certainty: “Vanessa was badly traumatized this time. Her therapist says she needs long-term companionship. Let’s postpone getting our license the day after tomorrow by a month.” He looked at me as if looking at a subordinate throwing a tantrum. “That villa is worth fifty million. Consider it compensation. We’ve been together this long—you should know how to choose.” I looked at that velvet box and suddenly laughed. “Fine.” I looked at him calmly, my eyes completely emotionless. “I agree to postpone.” Ethan froze. He seemed not to have expected me to agree so readily. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by satisfied approval. “You really are sensible.” He reached out, wanting to pat my head like before. I turned my head away, dodging his touch with disgust. His hand froze in midair, his expression darkening slightly. Just as he was about to lose his temper, the hospital room door was suddenly pushed open. Vanessa entered carrying an enormous fruit basket, wearing three-inch heels and perfect makeup. “Ethan, I knew you’d be here.” She completely ignored me in the hospital bed, walking straight to Ethan and naturally linking her arm through his, pressing half her body against him. “Miss Hartley, I heard you were seriously injured. I came specially to see you.” Vanessa covered her mouth with an exaggerated look of shock and sympathy. “I’m so sorry. Ethan was too worried about me that day during the fire—he probably neglected you. You don’t blame him, do you?” Ethan frowned but his tone was gentle: “Vanessa, your body hasn’t recovered yet. Why did you come out?” “I was worried Miss Hartley might be angry at you because of me.” Vanessa bit her lip pitifully, her eyes instantly reddening. “After all, it’s almost time for you two to get your marriage license.” “Miss Sullivan’s information is really out of date.” I leaned against the pillow, watching her performance coldly. “Mr. Gray just postponed getting the license. He said he needs to leave time to properly accompany you, the psychological trauma patient.” Vanessa’s eyes lit up, a gleam of triumph flashing through them before she put on a look of panic. “Really? Ethan, that’s too unfair to Miss Hartley. She’s been with you for five years after all. Even without credit, she deserves recognition for her hard work. How can you postpone the wedding for me?” Ethan patted her hand reassuringly: “I’ve already given her the villa in the southern district as compensation. She deserves it. You don’t need to feel guilty.” Vanessa let out an exaggerated gasp. “Oh my God, Miss Hartley, you really hit the jackpot.” She released Ethan and walked to my bedside, looking down at me from above, lowering her voice to a volume only we could hear as she sneered: “But then again, for a gold-digger from the bottom like you, you could never earn this much money in your lifetime. Trading one month’s postponement for fifty million—that’s quite the deal. You might as well give up the position of Mrs. Gray now.” I looked at her utterly fake face, the rage in my heart no longer suppressible.

I grabbed the glass water cup from the table and threw it hard at Vanessa’s feet without hesitation. “Crash!” Glass shattered, water splashing everywhere. “Ah!” Vanessa screamed and collapsed to the floor, tears instantly pouring out like broken pearls. “Chloe, are you crazy!” Ethan flew into a rage, striding over and pulling Vanessa protectively behind him. “Chloe! What the hell is wrong with you!” he roared. I laughed coldly, my chest heaving violently with anger, pulling painfully at my wound. “Good intentions? She came to my hospital bed to show off and called me a bottom-feeding gold-digger—that’s her good intentions?” Vanessa hid behind Ethan, crying pitifully, trembling all over. “Ethan, I didn’t… I just thought Miss Hartley must be happy getting the villa, so I wanted to congratulate her. I don’t know what I said to anger her. Why would she do this to me…” As she cried, she secretly reached out and, while Ethan wasn’t paying attention, viciously grabbed my IV tube hanging by the bedside. She yanked hard. “Hiss—” The needle instantly slid roughly out of the vein in my hand, blood spurting out and dripping onto the white sheets. “You’re asking for it!” I forced myself to sit up despite the searing pain in my shoulder and back. Using all my strength, I slapped Vanessa hard across her pitiful face. “Smack!” The crisp sound of the slap echoed throughout the hospital room. Vanessa’s head snapped to the side from the force, five bright red finger marks instantly appearing on her pale face. She covered her cheek, staring in disbelief. “You dare hit her?!” Ethan completely lost it. Like an enraged lion, his hands clamped around my wrists like iron vises, slamming me back onto the hospital bed. “Chloe, you’re completely unreasonable! When did you become such a vicious shrew!” He pressed down on me from above, the fury in his eyes seeming ready to burn through me. I struggled desperately, my wrists marked with red welts from his grip. “Let go of me! Ethan Gray, you blind bastard!” During the violent struggle, I heard a teeth-grinding tearing sound from my right shoulder blade. Then, excruciating bone-deep pain swept through my entire body. The freshly sutured wound had been forcibly torn open by him. Warm blood instantly gushed out, rapidly staining my white hospital gown and spreading across the sheets in a large, horrifying red patch. Ethan looked down and saw that glaring blood. His pupils contracted sharply, veins bulging on the back of his hand, undisguisable panic and shock flashing through his eyes. “Chloe…” He instinctively released his grip, his voice trembling as he reached to cover my wound. But just then, Vanessa suddenly covered her face, moaning in pain, her body sliding limply downward. “Ethan, I feel so dizzy… I can’t breathe… I’m so scared…” Ethan’s movement froze. Between me, covered in blood, and Vanessa, “on the verge of collapse,” he hesitated for less than a second. “You brought this on yourself.” He abruptly withdrew his hand, issuing a cold order. “When you learn to control your emotions and apologize to Vanessa, then we’ll go get our marriage license.” With that, he scooped Vanessa up in his arms and rushed out of the room without looking back. “Doctor! Come quick and check on Vanessa! She’s fainted!” His frantically worried shouts echoed through the corridor. I collapsed on the hospital bed, watching the blood continuously flowing from my shoulder and back, my vision gradually blurring. With trembling hands, I pressed the call button. Doctors and nurses rushed in. Seeing the bed full of blood, their faces went deathly pale as they immediately wheeled me toward the emergency room. “Patient’s wound torn open a second time, massive hemorrhaging! Prepare blood plasma quickly!” The pain of being re-sutured was even more unbearable than the first time. Without anesthesia, each stitch piercing through flesh felt like slow torture of my soul. After the emergency treatment ended, I lay weakly in the hospital bed, my face paler than paper. I took out my phone and dialed an encrypted international number. The phone rang three times before being answered. “Hello, Grandpa. It’s me, Chloe.” On the other end, an elderly man’s trembling, excited voice came through, filled with incredible joy. “Chloe? You’re finally willing to contact Grandpa! I found out where you were three years ago, but you refused to acknowledge me as your grandfather for that poor boy’s sake, preferring to suffer! Have you come to your senses now? I’ll send the private jet to pick you up right away!” I closed my eyes, tears silently falling and landing on the pillow. “Grandpa, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have run away from home for a man. I shouldn’t have been so foolish. I want to come home.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “383851”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

After my husband Ethan Morris cheated on me with his secretary Sienna Dawn, he insisted on divorcing me. When the divorce lawsuit began, my first love Adrian Foster offered to be my lawyer. I agreed. Later, Adrian fought tooth and nail to win my divorce case, and I walked away with 50% of Ethan’s assets. On the day of signing, however, I overheard a conversation between Adrian and Ethan outside the door. Ethan said smugly: “Adrian, thank you for pretending to be Lily’s lawyer and helping me hide my assets! If Lily knew that what she got wasn’t even worth one of Sienna’s diamond necklaces, she’d die of anger!” Adrian lowered his voice in warning: “Ethan Morris, I’m not doing this to help you. Everything I’ve done is for Sienna’s happiness. If you ever dare betray Sienna in the future, I’ll make sure you go bankrupt!” My hand trembled on the doorknob, and a sharp pain shot through my chest. I never imagined that both my ex-boyfriend and my ex-husband would betray me for the same woman.

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Both men turned around simultaneously, their expressions showing no trace of anything amiss. “Lily, sit over here.” Adrian spoke first, waving me over. With their earlier conversation still echoing in my ears, I clutched my bag tightly and walked toward Adrian. Adrian pulled out a handkerchief and thoughtfully wiped the water stains from my clothes. “I should have picked you up, but my car broke down halfway. It’s pouring outside—you didn’t get too wet, did you?” I shook my head. He explained while pulling out a chair for me. During our four years of college, Adrian had always taken care of me this attentively. Even after our reunion during the past half-year of litigation, he’d continued treating me well. Friends around us would tease him: “Adrian, she’s not even divorced yet. She still has a husband.” Plenty of people mocked him too, bringing up our breakup from back then. “Adrian, why are you still acting like a lovesick puppy? Did you forget how Lily dumped you in college?” But Adrian acted like he didn’t hear them. He’d cover my ears. “I already missed you once.” “This time, I absolutely won’t let myself miss you again.” I thought he still had feelings for me, that he genuinely wanted us to get back together. Now I knew better—I’d been deluding myself all along. The warmth before my eyes was a sweet trap custom-designed for me. Looking at the seat he’d pulled out, I placed my bag there and leaned toward him. “Organize the documents first. Let me take a look.” Adrian nodded, highlighting the key sections of the documents. When he leaned close, he brought with him a crisp, cool fragrance. I tilted my head, listening carefully. From time to time, I’d smile and whisper a few words near his ear. Ethan lounged lazily against his chair back and laughed: “Mr. Foster’s litigation services come with such excellent extras!” I said nothing, simply watching the two men before me quietly. Finding it all utterly ridiculous.

“Sorry I’m late.” Sienna Dawn pushed open the door. This time both men didn’t just turn their heads—they stood up. “Sienna, what are you doing here?” Ethan walked to Sienna’s side, brazenly wrapping his arm around her waist. From the corner of my eye, I saw Adrian’s fist clench tightly. “I was a bit worried about you…” “And this is such a major life event. I thought I should be here with you.” Halfway through her words, Sienna turned to look at me. I smiled faintly and lowered my head, fiddling with the ring on my finger, pretending not to notice. “Who’s the mistress putting on such a touching performance for?” “After Ethan Morris dies, who knows who’ll be lying next to him!” At these words, Ethan’s expression darkened instantly, his smile vanishing completely. “Lily, watch your mouth.” “I know you can’t bear to divorce me—that’s why this lawsuit has dragged on for two years.” “What, having second thoughts now?” I snorted coldly and glanced at Sienna, who wore an aggrieved expression. “Not this time.” “Ethan Morris, you always used to pester me asking about my first love, didn’t you?” “Well, he’s right in front of you now.” I looked toward Adrian, who sat one seat away from me. “You’re Lily’s first love?” “That first love she dated for four years—the one who made such a scene when you broke up?” Ethan spoke rapidly, staring at Adrian with a look that had become very subtle. His words even carried a hint of resentment. Adrian stiffened his spine, looking at me somewhat confused. I spread my hands and smiled. “We’ve been married five years, and you’ve always been a thorn in his side. But I kept my mouth shut—he investigated for five years and found nothing.” Adrian raised his eyes slightly, his gaze flicking toward Sienna. Finally, he nodded. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Morris.” Ethan’s face turned extremely ugly, his eyes darting back and forth between me and Adrian. “Stop looking. We’re just ordinary friends now.” “Sign the papers. Don’t keep your true love stuck as a mistress who can’t see the light of day.” I leaned forward to take the documents from Adrian’s hands. The thick stack of papers—I signed through them all in one go. The lawsuit with Ethan had lasted two years. We’d gone through mediation procedures three to five times. Each time, at the last moment, I’d backed out. Not because I loved Ethan so much—I just refused to lose to a woman like Sienna Dawn. The first time I met Sienna was in Ethan’s office. She’d just graduated and was job hunting. A clean, efficient high ponytail, plaid shirt, canvas shoes—her whole being radiated youthful energy. The first time I saw her, I thought of Adrian. Adrian as a college freshman had looked just as plain and simple, seemingly completely out of place in a city like Seattle. But I’d fallen hopelessly for Adrian anyway, chasing him crazily for three months. Finally, with a dark expression, he’d agreed: “Lily, you’re like a sticky plaster I can’t shake off. So annoying.” “Lily, let’s date for one year. After one year, we break up.” Later, we dated for four years. I was the one who initiated the breakup, on the eve of our graduation ceremony, the day before his birthday. Adrian knelt in the rain begging me all night long. I hid in my dorm building and never went down. Back then, everyone on campus said I was heartless, said Adrian had been toyed with by a rich girl and then kicked aside. After we broke up, I never saw Adrian again.

So when I saw Sienna Dawn, my heart inexplicably softened a bit. Ethan was flipping through resumes in front of me, his finger stopping at Sienna’s. “You’ve met this one. HR said she’s decent. But I think she looks pretty unsophisticated. I’m hiring a secretary, not sponsoring a charity case.” Ethan had a vicious tongue. He’d always liked flashy, superficial things—liked beautiful, attractive people. Like me. He’d liked me since childhood. Because I was beautiful and ignored him. That’s why when the Lily family went bankrupt and everyone avoided me like the plague, he came around proposing marriage. I pressed down on Ethan’s hand as he flipped to the next resume. “Let’s go with her. I think she’s good. She looks innocent, and her abilities seem solid too.” To make me happy, Ethan kept Sienna on. Back then, Ethan still found me novel and exciting. Every day, aside from work, he’d cling to me and refuse to let go. After each time, he’d pester me with questions: “What was your college boyfriend’s name?” “How far did you two go? Did he do this with you too?” “Who’s better, me or him?” “Lily, do you still love him?” Ethan was very immature. From the day we got married in a whirlwind, he’d planted a thorn in his heart. Everything he looked at reminded him of Adrian. Everything he did, he had to compare with Adrian. But I never breathed a word. The next time I saw Sienna, she wore a Chanel-style suit and sat outside Ethan’s office. Her exquisite makeup made her look young and beautiful, impossible not to notice. “Miss Lily, Mr. Morris is still in a meeting. Please wait outside for a moment.” Everyone in this building called me Mrs. Morris—only she called me Miss Lily. No one in this secretary’s office would make me wait outside—only she told me to sit and wait. I stared at the red marks on her neck and that expensive necklace. “Miss Dawn has excellent work capabilities.” “You’ve been at Pinecrane for less than half a year, and you can already afford a $100,000 necklace just like that.” “Someone gave it to me.” Sienna’s delicate face instantly flushed red. At that moment, I knew she’d latched onto Ethan. That necklace had been a purchase requirement when I bought a bag before. It had sat unworn in my jewelry box. A few days ago, Ethan had asked me for it. I thought it was for a client. Turned out it was for Sienna. Since marrying me, Ethan hadn’t continued his old ways of sleeping around like the playboy everyone knew him as. He’d stayed faithfully by my side for two years. Counting the days, his patience was probably running out. Someone like him would never stay put for anyone. This marriage, to me, was just decoration—a tool to keep the Lily family from collapsing. So I wasn’t heartbroken. Back then, I was thinking about how to prolong this marriage in name only, or how to get a share of the Morris family assets after divorce. But I never expected it would be Sienna Dawn—the woman he’d initially looked down on. And Sienna, as it turned out, wasn’t content to stay in her lane either. I was at a banquet hosted by the Morris family when Sienna sent me those obscene videos and photos. While dealing with Ethan’s parents pressuring me about having children, I was thinking about how to deal with Sienna. [Miss Lily, I’m pregnant with Mr. Morris’s child.] [Mr. Morris and I truly love each other. Please let us be together.] I pretended not to see it, pretended nothing happened. But I didn’t expect that same night, Ethan would come home dead drunk and confess everything. “Sienna is pregnant. The baby is mine.”

“I want her to keep it.” I stared blankly at Ethan sitting across from me. My mouth opened and closed. My hand resting on my lower abdomen involuntarily twitched. “Have you thought this through?” “If you really have, I’ll make room for her.” Ethan looked up at me in disbelief. Perhaps he hadn’t expected things to go so smoothly either. But his joy was fleeting. He grabbed my hand and demanded: “Lily, have you never loved me? Not even once?” “Are you still hung up on that damn first love of yours?!” “Cheating, divorce—even if I brought her home today to have the baby, you wouldn’t care at all, would you?!” I watched Ethan throw his tantrum, watched him smash an entire cabinet of liquor. I let him pin me down and take what he wanted without restraint, without any resistance. “Lily, could you just… even just a little bit, love me even just a little…” I said nothing. In the days that followed, Ethan often didn’t come home. He brought Sienna to all kinds of occasions. At events where I wasn’t present, Ethan would shield her from drinks, hold umbrellas for her, drive her to and from work—looking exactly like a couple deeply in love. Scandals flew everywhere, and each time I’d step in to smooth things over, buying off those tabloid stories. I sat securely in the position of Mrs. Morris, cleaning up Ethan’s mess. But Sienna couldn’t sit still. Or perhaps it was the baby in her belly that couldn’t wait. “Miss Lily, when will you agree to the divorce?” “I don’t want my child to be called a bastard when it’s born.” I stirred the coffee in front of me, finding it both laughable and pathetic. “Miss Dawn is too naive. Marriages of convenience in families like ours involve too many interests. Divorce isn’t that simple.” “Besides, it’s not that I won’t divorce—it’s your Mr. Morris who refuses.” Perhaps my words hit too close to home. That very night, Sienna attempted suicide. The baby in her belly wasn’t saved. Ethan came home with bloodshot eyes, nearly strangling me to death. “Lily, who told you to go see her!” “Do you know she almost died! Because of what you said, the baby in her belly is gone!” “Lily, do you want a divorce that badly?” “Fine! Let’s divorce!” I only learned later that Sienna had slit her wrists to pressure Ethan into divorcing, resulting in a miscarriage. She said it was me who went to see her. Her words “I love you so much” kept Ethan’s heart captive. Her words “Lily doesn’t love you at all” also severed the last thread of hope between Ethan and me. “Sienna wasn’t actually pregnant.” “She’s just a gold-digger trying to climb the social ladder, staging this whole drama herself.” “Speaking of which, Mrs. Morris is truly magnanimous—ready to divorce just like that. If it were me, I’d make that scumbag and homewrecker miserable for years before I’d be satisfied!” When these words reached my ears, the hand signing the divorce agreement stopped cooperating. “I’m not divorcing anymore.” “Ethan Morris, you’re the one at fault. I want you to leave with nothing.” And so, the lawsuit dragged on for two years. Long enough for Adrian to appear by my side. Actually, I didn’t care how much money I got from the Morris family. I just wanted to spite Sienna. Adrian’s appearance, the trap Adrian set—it suddenly all seemed pointless to me. I couldn’t even be bothered to investigate the relationship between them anymore. “Let’s sign.” I pushed the documents toward Ethan.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “383850”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I can still remember the bloodstains at the village entrance that never washed away. Back then, my dad Ryan brought people to beat the human trafficker who tried to kidnap me to death right there. Years later, I left that isolated mountain village behind. I succeeded in my studies, and both my career and love life were thriving. My boyfriend was a cop, currently chasing down a trafficking case. One day, while chatting with him, I casually mentioned this old story. After hearing it, he stood frozen for a long moment. “Sophia, what kind of human trafficker goes deep into the mountains to kidnap children?” “Have you ever considered that the people your dad beat to death might have been your biological parents who traveled thousands of miles to find you?” Zachary’s words exploded in my mind like thunder. “Impossible!” I instinctively wanted to argue back. “My dad loves me so much. For me, he’d do anything!” My dad Ryan was known throughout the village as a genuinely good man. Growing up, even when our family was too poor to afford food, if I wanted meat, there’d be steak on the table the next day. The year I went to college, he sold our family’s only cow and cried at the village entrance like a child. What kind of human trafficker would treat a bought child this well? Zachary looked at me and smiled bitterly as he apologized. “Sorry, Sophia. My occupational hazard is acting up.” “This case has been so oppressive lately, I’m starting to see everyone as a suspect.” He was apologizing verbally, but I could see it clearly. That trace of doubt in his eyes hadn’t faded at all. That night, I struggled to fall asleep for the longest time. Every time I closed my eyes, those dark red bloodstains that had long since seeped into the soil at the village entrance appeared vividly before me. My father’s honest, weathered face from my memories now seemed blurry in my mind. The motion of him raising his hoe to strike that couple played over and over in slow motion, like a slideshow. “Bastards! How dare you traffic my daughter!” My father’s roar back then had been the warmest source of security in my heart. Now, it had become the nightmare that kept me from sleeping. I suddenly sat up in bed, drenched in cold sweat. At three in the morning, as if possessed, I got up and searched through boxes and cabinets, looking for old family photo albums. One, two, three… I flipped through them page by page. There was one of me at five with pigtails, sitting on my father’s shoulders and laughing happily. There was one of me at ten receiving an excellent student certificate, with my father proudly posting it on the most prominent wall in our home. There was one of me at eighteen getting into college, with my father secretly wiping tears as he saw me off at the village entrance. But I searched through all the albums and couldn’t find a single photo of me before age three. Not a single one. Doubt grew like wild grass in my heart, suffocating me until I couldn’t breathe. I had to go back. I had to personally verify that terrifying, suffocating suspicion. My hands shaking, I booked the earliest train ticket home. Because my hands were trembling, I entered the wrong payment password three times. After booking the ticket, I sent Zachary a text message. “Company suddenly arranged a team-building trip to a neighboring city. I’ll be back in three days, don’t worry.” I didn’t dare tell him the truth. I was afraid. Afraid of the what-ifs. Afraid of implicating him. Even more afraid that if my suspicion turned out to be true, since he was a cop, how could I face him? I set out alone on the journey home.

Train to bus, bus to small truck heading up the mountain. The road conditions got worse and worse. The vehicle jolted violently. Outside the window, the scenery gradually changed from a modern city of high-rises to endless barren mountain ranges. A sense of displacement emerged, as if I were falling from the civilized world back into the wilderness. I felt like I wasn’t going home. It was more like voluntarily walking into the gaping bloody maw of a giant beast. The bus stopped at the village entrance in a cloud of dust. A few old folks sitting under the big tree at the village entrance chatting saw me and immediately waved enthusiastically. “Sophia, you’re back! Haven’t seen you in so long, you’ve gotten even more beautiful!” “Your dad is so lucky to have raised such an outstanding daughter like you!” I snapped back to reality and smiled as I responded to each of them. Walking along the familiar dirt road, I saw our dilapidated courtyard in the distance. My father Ryan was shirtless in the yard, chopping wood. His back was turned to me, his spine slightly hunched from years of labor. Each swing of the axe came with heavy breathing. Hearing footsteps, he turned around. When he saw it was me, the shock on his face lasted only an instant. Then that wrinkled face burst into enormous joy. “Sophia? Why did you suddenly come back? You didn’t even say anything in advance!” He dropped the axe, wiped his hands on his patched pants, and quickly walked over, wanting to take the bag from my hand. That familiar scent of tobacco and sweat instantly enveloped me. My nose tingled and tears almost fell. All the fear and suspicion from the journey seemed to become somewhat ridiculous the moment I saw his delighted smile. “Company gave us time off, so I thought I’d come back and see you.” I made up a random excuse. “It’s good you’re back! It’s good you’re back!” My father was as happy as a child on Christmas, immediately bustling about excitedly. He ran to the chicken coop in the backyard and grabbed our fattest chicken, processing it with clean, efficient movements. Then he took out a bass he’d just caught that morning from the refrigerator—fresh and plump. The dinner table was soon filled with all my favorite dishes: Fried chicken, grilled bass, and a big plate of golden-baked mac and cheese. “Eat more. You definitely don’t eat well out there. Look, you’ve gotten thinner.” My father kept urging me to eat more while he himself was reluctant to eat. The warm, fragrant aroma of the food dispelled the gloom in my heart. I ate big mouthfuls of rice, pushing down all those terrible thoughts. I must have gone crazy, scared out of my wits by Zachary’s jinxing words. In this barren mountain village with nothing but rocks, it was my father who bent his back to help me walk out of these mountains. How could I doubt him? Even if this leave cost me my perfect attendance bonus, being able to come back and spend time with my father was worth it. At night, the mountain village was so quiet you could hear insects chirping. I got up to use the bathroom and passed by the main hall. By the faint moonlight streaming through the window, I noticed something new on the small table in the center of the main hall. Before, only a blurry old wooden cross had been enshrined there. Now, in front of the cross, on a piece of red cloth, a string of beads was solemnly placed. The bead string gave off a peculiar, oily luster in the moonlight, as if it had been worn by someone for a long time.

I found it somewhat amusing in my heart. When did my father become so superstitious? Out of curiosity, I walked over and took out my phone to snap a photo of the beads. Then I sent it to Zachary. With a teasing caption: “Look, my dad’s new find. Says it’s made from animal bones, can ward off evil and protect the home. Pretty cool, right?” Zachary video-called back almost instantly. When the call connected, his face on the screen was deathly pale, with the police station dormitory in the background. “Sophia, listen to me. Come back quickly. Don’t make a scene.” I was startled by his appearance, my heart jumping to my throat again. “What’s wrong? Don’t scare me.” “Those aren’t animal bones!” Zachary’s voice was urgent, so urgent it frightened me. “I got a perfect score in my forensic medicine elective! I couldn’t possibly be wrong!” “Look carefully at the bone structure and density! And that patina color from long-term handling!” “Those are human bones!” “And judging by the size, they’re finger bones from a minor!” A boom echoed in my brain, everything went blank. The phone nearly slipped from my hand. Human bones… Finger bones from a minor… I froze, cold spreading from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my head. Behind me, heavy footsteps suddenly sounded. The wooden floor made creaking sounds, especially jarring in the silent night. My father’s ghostly voice came from right behind my ear: “Sophia, who are you talking to so late at night?” In that instant, every hair on my body stood on end. I stiffly pressed the disconnect button and turned around. My father stood in the shadows, half his face hidden in darkness, his eyes dark and inscrutable. He was still holding that mug printed with a cross. “Dad…” I forced out a smile. “No… nobody.” “Just venting to a coworker about the company making us work overtime.” I didn’t dare look at him. As I spoke, I quickly put the bead string back in its original place. When my fingertips touched those cold beads, it felt like touching a dead person’s hand. My father didn’t speak, just stood there quietly watching me. I held my breath, palms full of cold sweat. Time seemed to freeze. Each second felt as long as a century. Just when I was about to suffocate, he suddenly grinned. “City bosses are all heartless. If you don’t want to work, then quit. I’ll take care of you.” Those yellowed teeth, stained from years of smoking, looked particularly sinister in the dim light. “Go to bed early. Stop playing with your phone.” I don’t remember how I walked back to my room. The moment I locked the door, I leaned back against it, gasping for breath, cold sweat instantly soaking through my clothes. That night, I was trapped in nightmares. I dreamed those human bone beads turned into tiny skulls, crying and screaming around me, demanding my life. I dreamed that the couple beaten to death at the village entrance—the “human traffickers”—crawled up from the ground covered in blood, their withered hands grabbing my ankles, calling me “daughter” over and over. I also dreamed Zachary was locked in a rusty iron cage, his tongue cut out, only able to make muffled sounds as he looked at me in despair.

When I woke with a start, my pillow was soaked through. Outside the window, dawn was just breaking, everything a gray-white. As my consciousness gradually returned, I realized I couldn’t just sit here waiting for doom. All my fear and suspicion stemmed from one question with an uncertain answer. Who was I, really? To find the answer, I just needed to get my father’s DNA sample for a paternity test, and all the mysteries would be solved. Scientific evidence was the only weapon that could end all this suspicion. I didn’t want to believe that the father who had raised me for over twenty years, who loved me with his entire life, could be a monster. As long as I could prove my father and I were biologically related, then everything would just be coincidence, just Zachary’s occupational hazard acting up. I had to get my father’s DNA sample. Hair—hair with follicles attached would be best. Or his nails, blood, even a toothbrush he hadn’t cleaned properly. I took a deep breath and made an incredibly firm decision. Whatever the truth was, I would uncover it with my own hands. Even if the result would completely destroy me, I needed to know what kind of world I was living in. I quietly opened the door and listened carefully to the sounds outside. Soft snoring came from my father’s room. A plan quickly formed in my mind. As soon as dawn broke, my father went to work at the farm. I snuck into his bedroom like a thief. My heartbeat thundered like drums, making my eardrums buzz. My father’s room was still as I remembered—simple but unusually tidy. I rushed to the bed, lifted the pillow, turned over the sheets, searching carefully. Nothing. Not a single hair. Clean to an unreasonable degree. Unwilling to give up, I went under the bed and checked every corner, but still found nothing. How could a man in his fifties, whose bodily functions were starting to decline, not shed any hair? That ominous premonition in my heart grew stronger and stronger. I ran into the bathroom. The bathroom was equally, eerily clean. The sink was spotless, towels hung neatly. I picked up my father’s toothbrush—there wasn’t even a trace of toothpaste foam on it. I got down on the floor again and carefully checked the cracks in the drain. My father had clearly showered last night, but the drain was completely empty. Forget hair—there wasn’t even a single strand of anything. A widowed, over-fifty old man living alone, yet his home was as clean as a sterile room. That itself was the biggest horror story. Despair slowly gripped my heart. I was about to give up. Just then, my gaze swept to the table in the living room. There was a nail clipper sitting there. In the trash can next to the nail clipper, there were several crumpled tissues. I rushed over and unfolded the tissues. Inside were several crescent-shaped nail clippings with yellowed edges. These were nails my father had clipped after showering yesterday. “Dad, I’m going to town to buy some feminine products!” I sent my father a voice message. Without waiting for his reply, I fled from the house. Running all the way, I caught the bus to town. My heart was pounding. The truth would soon be revealed!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “383849”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster