Movie star Ted Parsons posted on his social media in the middle of the night: “Folks, secretly going to meet my online crush. If it goes well, call me a stud. If it fails, I’m a clown.” The next day, he dropped a photo: a girl in a blue and white floral dress locked in an embrace with a handsome guy with a shock of blond hair. Then, he changed his screen name to [The Other Guy]. The internet exploded. And I looked down at the blue and white floral dress I was wearing, then at my brother’s newly dyed blond hair, and finally at the 99+ unread messages from my online boyfriend on my phone. I exploded, too. 1 I’m a C-list actress, at best. The kind of actress who exists on the very fringes of stardom. My latest drama finally took off, but none of the starlight and riches that came with it landed on me. Instead, I got a lot of rotten eggs and cabbage hurled at me on the street. That’s because I played the villainess—the kind you hate with a fury that makes your teeth ache. The hatred for the character bled over to the actress, and just like that, I became a public punching bag. As I scrolled through the endless wave of online hate, the director, Mr. Evans, looked at me, his face a mask of apology. “Kaley, this must have been so hard on you. Why don’t you take some time off? Go home, lay low for a bit. I’ll make sure you’re compensated, of course. Please, don’t let it get you down.” He was raking in awards for this show, yet he was trying so desperately to look sorry for me. So desperate that the corner of his mouth kept twitching, fighting an upward curl, then forcing itself down, then back up again… a spastic battle on his face. I just stared. Director Evans, please stop smiling. You’re scaring me. 2 “A little compensation?” I rolled my eyes. I remembered how he’d sweet-talked me into this role, promising it would be my ticket to the big time, that I’d be dining on champagne and caviar. And now? “You really think I’m that easy to brush off?” I was on the verge of laughing from sheer frustration. I glanced down as my phone screen lit up. A bank notification. A new deposit… for five million dollars. I shook my head, a sigh escaping my lips. “You know what? Turns out I am.” 3 Back home, I cracked open a fine ’82 Coke. The moment I switched from my work account to my personal one, a video call came in. The contact name read: My 6’4″ Six-Pack Clingy Puppy. I answered, and a low, gravelly voice purred through the speaker at the same time. “Miss me, baby?” His voice was like velvet lined with fishhooks, snagging at my heart. For a second, my mind went adrift. I quickly turned off my own camera. On my screen, however, was a glorious view of six-pack abs. As usual, he wasn’t showing his face. The frame started just below his sharp jawline. Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, a powerful core—his proportions were absolutely perfect. Droplets of water still clung to his chest, tracing slow, tantalizing paths down the grooves of his muscles. My cheeks flushed, my head starting to feel fuzzy. That’s weird. Can you get tipsy from Coca-Cola? “Why so quiet, hmm?” He leaned closer to the camera, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I instinctively reached out, my fingers hitting the cold, hard glass of the screen, which jolted me back to reality. Tsk. Look but don’t touch. So frustrating. “Lower the camera a little. We know each other well enough by now, don’t be shy.” 4 The hand drying his chest with a towel paused. “You sure?” I raised an eyebrow. He wouldn’t actually dare, I thought, so I pushed my luck. “Positive. Absolutely positive.” To my shock, the camera on his end actually started to pan down. Slowly. From his throat to his chest, then lower, and lower still… The deliberate slowness felt like an intimate exploration of his body. My breath hitched. My face was on fire. Just in the nick of time… BAM! I slammed my phone face-down on the table. “STOP! That’s enough! This is not that kind of party!” Silence for a beat, then a soft chuckle from his end. “Scared?” “Yeah, scared I’ll pass out from the sight of something so small.” “Excuse me?” He bit out, his voice tight. “I dare you to open your eyes and look. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed!” Sorry, but my entire personality is built on defiance. “I! REFUSE!” “You’re just chicken,” he scoffed. “Too scared to admit it.” That one sentence lit a fire under me. “Chicken? Are you kidding me? Fine! I’ll look!” Without another word, I snatched the phone off the table. 5 And in the next second, a fluffy white bathrobe, tied securely around his waist and covering him completely, filled my screen. I blinked. “…?!” Seriously, dude? I was halfway to a heart attack, and this is what you show me? “What else were you expecting to see?” Even though I couldn’t see his face, I could picture the smug, mischievous grin he was wearing just from the sound of his voice. Oh, he’s good. He was totally playing me! “Just looking is boring! If you’ve got the guts, come over and let me touch!” I squeezed my fists, genuinely annoyed now. I had to get my dignity back. He let out a soft “tsk.” “If I actually showed up, would you actually have the guts to see me?” “Of course, why wouldn’t I?” “You sure you wouldn’t take one look at me and run for the hills?” “Haha, you’re dreaming. I’d be more likely to push you onto the sofa and… ravage… you… mercilessly!” “…” 6 When I woke up the next morning and saw my chat history with him, my world came crashing down. The black text on the screen seemed to get more and more suggestive the longer I looked, making my face burn red. The worst part was, I was nowhere near ready to meet in person. But last night, in a fit of bravado, I’d thrown down the gauntlet: [Me: See you tomorrow, 5 PM, at the entrance of the Starlight Hotel.] [Me: Whoever bails eats ramen without the flavor packet for the rest of their life!] So, with trembling fingers, I weakly typed out a new message: [Me: You know, I was just thinking… ramen without the flavor packet probably tastes pretty good too.] He replied almost instantly. First, a single question mark. Then, a location pin for the city’s main airport. [My 6’4″ Six-Pack Clingy Puppy: If I don’t see you this afternoon, I’ll hunt you down through the internet, baby. Don’t worry.] Great. My heart was now completely and utterly dead. There was no backing out now. I closed my eyes in resignation. It looked like there was no escaping this time. But just as I was wallowing in my despair, a shriek erupted from outside my door. 7 “Kaley! Kaleeeeyyyy! Open up! I know you’re in there! You had the guts to steal a man, now have the guts to open the door… ” I couldn’t stand that weaselly voice for another second. I shot up and stormed to the door. The moment I flung it open, the person standing there was about to speak. I shoved my slipper into his mouth. Instant, blessed silence. It lasted for all of one second before chaos erupted again. He spat the slipper out, hacking and spitting dramatically onto the floor. “Are you even my sister?! Are you trying to poison me?!” I covered my ears, his whining already giving me a headache. Then I got a good look at his new, eye-searingly blond hair, and my expression soured even more. “What is that look?” Hearing this, my brother, Leo, ran a hand through his hair and winked at me furiously. “What do you think? New style. Hot, right?” “You look like you got electrocuted.” Seeing he couldn’t win a war of words, Leo whipped out his phone and shoved it in my face. Because trending topics about both of us were currently lighting up the internet. #LeoUnlocksNewLook, TotallySlaying!# #DailyQuestion: WhenWillTheVillainessKaleyFinallyGetWrittenOff!# One praising him, one trashing me. What no one in the entertainment world knew was that Leo and I were actually siblings. The reason was simple: we couldn’t stand each other. He was the life of the party on variety shows, while I was a nobody actress stuck in obscurity. The day we entered the industry, we made a pact to pretend we were strangers. 8 I couldn’t be bothered with him. As I went to shut the door, a foot wedged its way into the gap. “Wait!” he yelped, squeezing half his body through. “I just wanted to ask if you saw that bottle of liquor in the fridge.” “No.” But Leo pressed on, unwilling to give up. “It was in a Coke bottle. I mixed some whiskey with Coke. You really didn’t see it?” My head snapped around. I saw the empty Coke bottle from last night sitting on my bedside table. Then I turned back to Leo, a chillingly sweet smile spreading across my face. “Are you saying… that Coke in the fridge… was actually alcohol?” Leo nodded. I grabbed his ear and twisted. He yelped in pain. “Leo, are you an absolute psycho?! Who puts whiskey in a Coke bottle?!” No wonder! No wonder that “Coke” tasted weirder and weirder last night. It wasn’t that my online crush’s flirting had me tipsy. I was genuinely drunk! “This! Is! All! Your! Fault! You’re going to be the death of me!” 9 After I explained the situation, Leo mocked me relentlessly. “I was wondering what the big deal was! So that’s what happened!” A death glare from me cut him off mid-sentence. “I have three hours until the meetup. What am I supposed to do?” He shrank back, looking sheepish. “Hey, you can’t blame it all on me! Besides, you two have been talking for a year. Meeting up was bound to happen. Sooner or later, what’s the difference?” He wasn’t entirely wrong. It’s just… We’d never once shown our faces during our video calls. Even the photos he sent were artsy, atmospheric shots where his face was always cleverly obscured. He wouldn’t even tell me what he did for a living. All I knew was that he traveled a lot for work, flying all over the country. When he was truly busy, he’d be unreachable for half the day. Chatting behind a screen was fine. But the thought of meeting face-to-face? It genuinely terrified me. “But that name, Ted… why does it sound so familiar?” Leo mused, stroking his chin. Suddenly, it clicked. “Wait, isn’t that the name of that new A-list movie star? The one who just won Best Actor?” I waved his comment away. “Just a coincidence.” The man was a movie star, with a face that could launch a thousand ships. He had the looks, the fame, the charisma. Why on earth would someone like that bother with the hassle of online dating? So I paid Leo’s comment no mind. “But what if it is him?” Leo grinned, and before I could react, he’d pulled out a tablet. A picture of Ted Parsons’s chiseled abs was suddenly magnified in front of my eyes. “You’re always on video calls with your online guy, right? Why don’t you take a good, hard look? Compare and contrast?” “…Get out!” 10 In the end, I braced myself and went to the hotel we’d agreed on. As for Leo, I’d dragged him along with me. There’s safety in numbers, after all. My phone had been buzzing nonstop on the way over, all messages from Ted. [My 6’4″ Six-Pack Clingy Puppy: I’m about to meet you, baby! I’m so nervous! I have a huge surprise for you, hehe!] I finally just put my phone on Do Not Disturb, snapped a picture of the hotel entrance to let him know I’d arrived, and told him we’d talk when we met. But the thought of it just made my stomach clench even tighter. Seeing my state, Leo leaned in to comfort me. “It’s okay, Kaley, don’t be scared. He came all this way to see you, which means you’re really important to him. If there’s love, it’s a beautiful romance. If there’s not… well, at worst it’s a police report.” I was speechless. I threw a punch at him. “No one will think you’re a mute if you just shut up!” But my punch hit nothing but air. Leo made a goofy face at me, which only made me angrier. “Get back here!” Thanks to the iron-clad rule of older-sibling dominance, I ended up pinning him to the ground and giving him a proper noogie until he begged for mercy. “Kaley, stop, ow, ow, ow! Your online date is gonna be here any second! You have to maintain your image!” His words snapped me back to reality. I scrambled for my phone. It was already fifteen minutes past our agreed-upon time! “What the hell? Don’t tell me he stood me up!” I unlocked the screen and froze. 99+ messages from [My 6’4″ Six-Pack Clingy Puppy]. Before I could even open them, a breaking news notification popped up, taking over my screen. #BREAKING: Movie Star Ted Parsons’s Online Date Ends in Disaster# #TedParsons: The Other Guy# I blinked. “?!” A terrible, sinking feeling washed over me. 11 Last night, the award-winning actor had posted: [Ted Parsons: Folks, secretly going to meet my online crush. If it goes well, call me a stud. If it fails, I’m a clown.] He’d even specified the time in the comments: 5 PM today. Fans and curious onlookers had been waiting with bated breath, only to see him change his screen name to [The Other Guy]. Then came the paparazzi photo: One second, he’s on his phone, smiling and texting. The next, he looks up and sees a girl in a blue and white floral dress looking all “cozy” with a guy with blond hair. The smile vanishes. The internet exploded. I looked down at the blue and white floral dress I was wearing. At my brother’s newly dyed blond hair. And at the 99+ unread messages on my phone. I exploded, too. So, the guy I’d been dating online for over a year… Was actually the movie star Ted Parsons?! The realization hit me, and the world started to spin.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393465”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 It happened on game night. The words tumbled out of Sheldon’s mouth, a casual, devastating confession: “It feels so good to be a dad.” The room went dead silent. The cheerful buzz of a moment ago evaporated, replaced by a thick, suffocating tension. Every eye in the room darted not to him, but to me. In their gazes, I saw no shock. Only a pained, unspoken pity. In that instant, I knew. They all knew. I was the only fool left in the dark. My hand trembled as I set down my wine glass, fighting to keep my composure. My voice was barely a whisper, but I forced the question out. “How many months?” Sheldon snapped back to reality as if waking from a dream, scrambling toward me. In his panic, he knocked over a bottle. It shattered, and he stumbled right over the shards, his bare feet instantly slick with blood. He didn’t seem to notice. He wrapped his arms around me, his body shaking. “Penny, the baby was an accident! I swear!” The words pierced my heart like a shard of glass from the bottle he’d just broken. “So it’s true… you cheated,” I breathed, the reality of it suffocating me. I pictured those same arms holding another woman, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I shoved him away, hard, and ran. Sheldon chased me to the door, but his phone rang. He stopped, answering it instantly. Even from a distance, I heard the cloying, sweet voice on the other end. “Sheldon… the baby misses you…” A bitter acid rose in my throat. I fled faster into the cold night. I don’t know how long I ran, the frigid wind a brutal shock against my thin sweater. I finally stumbled into a department store, desperate to buy a coat. A sales associate stared at me, her expression hesitant. “Excuse me… are you Penny Vance?” Before I could answer, a nearby shopper scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Please. It’s just a look-alike. Sheldon Vance worships his wife. You think he’d let the real Penny run around in this weather, freezing in a thin sweater, buying her own coat?” I managed a bitter, hollow laugh. I paid for the coat and walked out in silence. On the massive screen blanketing the side of the building, a replay of Sheldon’s recent TV interview was broadcasting to the entire city square. On camera, his voice was thick with emotion, his eyes glistening. “This year marks a decade with my wife. Ten years ago, when I had nothing, she stood by me. She even… she even lost our first child to save my life…” He choked back a sob, his gaze fixed on the camera as if he were looking right at me. “Penny is the one and only love of my life. In three days, I’m throwing her the wedding of the century, a renewal of our vows, so the whole world can witness how much I adore her.” Passersby stopped to watch, their faces soft with admiration. They praised him, calling him the poster boy for devoted husbands. Yes, everyone thought Sheldon Vance loved me to the bone. Until today, I thought so too. How could a man who loved me so much possibly cheat? I wandered out of the mall like a ghost, my mind numb, and then I saw it. Sheldon’s car, parked by the curb, waiting. I stood there, the wind whipping at me, a war raging in my chest. My feet slowed, a toxic, treacherous hope blooming within me. What was I even hoping for? That he was here for me? That this was all some horrible misunderstanding he could explain away? I hated myself for that flicker of weakness. I didn’t know if I could face him, but I couldn’t run anymore. Taking a deep breath, I started toward the car, each step a crushing weight on my heart. Just then, he got out. He didn’t come to me. He walked briskly to the passenger side and opened the door. A young woman, visibly pregnant, hopped out with a youthful bounce. The snow was thick on the ground, and she grabbed his arm, whining playfully. Without a second thought, Sheldon scooped her halfway into his arms, carefully shielding her designer shoes from the slush. “Thank you, Sheldon. You know how much I hate the cold.” For ten years, Sheldon had been an iceberg to every woman but me. He said it was to make me feel secure, to prove his love was undivided. His warmth, he’d always said, was reserved for me alone. Now, here I was, shivering in a thin coat, while he doted on another woman. I just watched, my stare so intense he finally felt it. His head snapped up. Our eyes met across the snowy street. His first reaction was a flicker of panic, his eyes darting away. The woman in his arms suddenly seemed to be a hot iron he couldn’t drop fast enough. He set her down and rushed toward me. He cupped my face with his hands, his thumbs stroking my frozen cheeks, his expression a mask of pure concern. “Penny, God, you’re freezing.” The worry in his eyes was so real, so familiar, that for a split second, my resolve wavered. But then I saw her, standing behind him. The woman with the swollen belly, one hand cradling it protectively, her head tilted in a look of blatant challenge. She was a living, breathing reminder that my life was a joke. I pulled away from Sheldon’s touch, taking two steps back. It felt like I was using my last ounce of strength to ask the question. “Who is she?” In that moment, I gambled everything—our ten years, our history, my entire heart—on his answer. It was my final, desperate bet. If he just denied it. If he would just look me in the eye and tell me that child wasn’t his, I would have believed him. I would have erased this entire nightmare and taken him back. But a soft, distinct sob carried across the cold air from the other woman. It was the sound of my last hope shattering. A pained look crossed Sheldon’s face. He let out a heavy sigh, and the words that destroyed my world fell from his lips, heavy and clear. “The baby… is mine.” My hand reacted before my mind could, slapping his away. My nails dug into my own palm, drawing blood. “Penny!” He grabbed my hand, prying my fingers open, his face a mess of panic and pain. “Hit me, scream at me, do anything, but please don’t hurt yourself.” He was almost begging. I remained silent, the agony in my chest too vast for words. Seeing my stony expression, he suddenly raised a hand and slapped himself across the face. Twice. Hard. Red welts bloomed instantly on his cheek. That’s when the girl, Emma, rushed forward, placing herself between us, shielding him. Her voice trembled, but her words were firm. “Miss Vanderbilt, my name is Emma. Sheldon and I… we were both victims in this. Please, don’t blame him!” Her eyes were wet with tears, but she stood her ground like a loyal protector. Sheldon’s face hardened. His voice was ice. “Penny is my wife. You will address her as Mrs. Vance.” Emma flinched, but her chin lifted with defiance. “Mrs. Vance, you’re a woman. You should understand. I’m only twenty-two. If it wasn’t for Sheldon’s mother… I would never have wanted to keep this baby!” Her words hung in the air. Sheldon’s gaze, which had been locked on me, flickered involuntarily toward Emma. And in that split second, as his focus shifted from me to her, I knew. It was over. 2 In the end, Sheldon had his executive assistant take Emma home. He drove me. The silence in the car was heavy, suffocating. He finally broke it, telling me the story. It happened last year, at the company gala. A competitor had drugged his drink. Emma, an intern, had “accidentally” wandered into his suite. He paid her a substantial sum for her silence afterward and had never seen her again. He never imagined she would get pregnant. And when his mother found out, she was adamant about keeping the child. I knew his mother’s stubbornness all too well. Shortly after we were married, we were in a horrific car accident. The car plunged into an icy reservoir. In the chaos, Sheldon shielded me with his own body. Shards of glass were embedded in his back, and his legs were pinned by the crushed seat. He fought through the pain to wake me from my unconscious state, urging me to escape first. But how could I leave him? I stayed, holding his head above the frigid water, trying to keep his wounds from being submerged. By the time the rescue team arrived, I had been soaking in that bone-chilling water for what felt like an eternity. Sheldon recovered quickly. I, on the other hand, lost our baby in the aftermath and was told that carrying another to term would be nearly impossible. From that day on, Sheldon’s love for me seemed to deepen into something sacred. He said we had faced death together, that nothing could ever tear us apart. His mother, however, never forgave my inability to give her a grandchild. Now, faced with this unexpected heir, I could easily imagine the lengths she would go to protect him. In the car, Sheldon reached for my hand, his voice thick with guilt. “Penny, it was a terrible mistake, an accident…” I looked him straight in the eye and asked the only question that mattered. “The baby, or me? You have to choose.” He fell silent. His silence was an answer louder than any confession. It was a hammer blow to my heart, an invisible wall slamming down between us. I knew, in that moment, that our marriage was broken beyond repair. I pulled my hand from his grasp and stared out the window at the glittering city lights. Our love had burned brightly for ten years, but like the fading day, its grand finale had finally arrived. When we got home, he gently took my arm. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “It’s late and you’re cold. Let me make you some soup to warm you up. I don’t want you to get a stomachache.” I said nothing, walking straight to our bedroom and locking the door behind me. A few moments later, a soft knock. “Penny? Please let me in. Just let me hold you. I’m so worried about you.” I pulled the covers over my head and willed the world away. When I woke up the next morning, my gaze fell on the calendar. A huge red circle was drawn around today’s date. My eyes burned with fresh tears. Today was the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death. Before she passed, she’d made me promise that on this day, I would visit her with my husband and children. When I told Sheldon about it years ago, he took it to heart. He’d made this calendar himself, marking the date with that big, bold circle. “Penny,” he’d said, his voice filled with a joy that felt so real, “the fact that you want me to meet your mother means everything to me. I’d move heaven and earth to be there. I’d crawl there if I had to.” Now… I wasn’t so sure. I stared at the closed door. It suddenly swung open. Sheldon stood there, looking haggard, his eyes bloodshot. “You had a key. Why didn’t you come in last night?” I asked, my voice cold. He gently tucked the blanket around me. “You wouldn’t have been able to sleep. I’m fine, I can handle one sleepless night.” A pang of grief hit me, and the words tumbled out. “Do you remember what day it is?” Sheldon looked at me, his expression serious. “Penny, how could I forget? It’s the day we visit your mother. I would forget anything in the world before I forgot this.” We got ready to leave. Just as we were about to walk out the door, his phone rang. His body went rigid. I could see the panic flash in his eyes as he answered. He didn’t put it on speaker, but I heard her cry clearly. “Sheldon! I fell! My stomach—it hurts so much! Help me!” He turned to me, his face a mask of desperation, his eyes pleading. “Penny, I’ll just go check on her. I swear, I’ll be right back. I promise I’ll make it.” He turned and ran. I lifted a hand to wipe my eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop falling. I went to the cemetery alone. I stayed until dusk, talking to my mother for hours, the silent gravestone a better confidant than my husband had been. When I returned home, I started packing. It was late, past midnight, when Sheldon finally came back. He wrapped me in his arms from behind, burying his face in my hair, murmuring “I’m sorry” over and over again. I let him hold me. I didn’t say a word. In his arms, our world felt cleaved in two. His embrace was warm and familiar, but my heart had never felt so cold, so distant. 3 The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, illuminating an empty space on the bed beside me. Sheldon was gone. A wave of nausea and unease washed over me, and I drove myself to the hospital. When the doctor laid the positive pregnancy test results in front of me, I started to laugh, a broken, hysterical sound that was drowned out by my own tears. The doctor watched me with sympathetic eyes. “Are you a single mother?” she asked gently. “Have you decided if you’ll be keeping the baby? Given your medical history, carrying this pregnancy to term will be extremely difficult.” I couldn’t answer. I left the hospital in a daze and drove to the first apartment Sheldon and I had ever shared—our pre-marital love nest. But when I stepped inside, my blood ran cold. Emma was there. She looked at me, her expression a mix of feigned timidity and blatant provocation. “Well, well. Did you come here to secretly record me, sister? Hoping to get something you can use to drive a wedge between me and Sheldon?” She pulled out a small electronic scanner and insisted on sweeping it over my body. I let out a cold laugh. “You’re the one making threats in the shadows. What right do you have to accuse anyone else?” Once she confirmed I wasn’t wearing a wire, her timid mask dropped. “So what if I am?” she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. “Your husband still wants me. You’re going to lose, and I’m going to win.” She flung the door open wider, gesturing around the apartment with a triumphant sweep of her arm. “I heard this was your little love nest. So romantic,” she purred. “But Sheldon’s mother said it was the perfect, quiet place for me to rest during my pregnancy, so he let me move in. You’re not mad, are you?” She trailed a hand over a sleek, modern armchair. “He was so worried I might bump into the old furniture and hurt the baby. So he had every single piece replaced. All in my favorite style, of course~” My eyes scanned the room. It was completely unrecognizable. A bitter bile rose in my throat, choking me. Memories flooded back, sharp and painful. The day he proposed, Sheldon had gotten down on one knee right here, in this room, and placed the only key in my hand. “Penny,” he had vowed, “no one else will ever step foot in this apartment. This place holds the memory of our love. It’s our world, just for the two of us.” This place was supposed to be our sanctuary. And he had handed it over to another woman. All the strength drained from my body. I sagged against the doorframe, the world tilting around me. Emma watched me, her eyes gleaming with a sick mixture of jealousy and hatred. I was helpless, drowning in a sea of despair in the very place that was supposed to be my safe harbor. “So how much longer are you going to cling to the title of Mrs. Vance?” Emma taunted, her voice sharp. “Can’t you see how much Sheldon adores me and our child? Can’t you see he’s already chosen us?” Cling? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I felt hollowed out. Suddenly, my eyes darted to an empty corner of the living room. My mother’s portrait. It was always there. Now, the space was bare. “Where is my mother’s portrait?!” My voice cracked, rising with disbelief and panic. Emma waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that morbid thing? Sheldon tossed it out, of course.” My glare was so intense that she finally, reluctantly, retrieved the framed photo from a closet. Then, right in front of me, a cruel smirk spread across her face. With a flick of her wrist, she let the frame drop. It hit the hardwood floor with a sickening crash, the glass shattering into a thousand pieces. I stared, frozen in a state of pure, unadulterated rage. But Emma was already collapsing to the floor, clutching her stomach and letting out a theatrical wail of pain. “Aah! My stomach! It hurts!” Her cries were a distant buzz in my ears. I lunged for the floor, desperately trying to gather the shards of my mother’s photo. Just as my fingers touched the broken glass, the door burst open and a furious roar filled the room. “Penny, why would you push her?!” I looked up from the floor, my hands bleeding, to see Sheldon. He hadn’t even looked at me. His eyes were locked on Emma. In a flash, he was scooping her into his arms and rushing out of the apartment. I stared down at my bloody hands, at the wreckage of my mother’s face on the floor. Our ten-year marriage wasn’t just a joke. It was a tragedy. I slowly, mechanically, began to clean up the mess. Soon after, his mother arrived. She stormed in and slapped me, hard, across the face. “You barren hen! If anything happens to my grandson, I will make you pay!” Sheldon, who had returned, quickly stepped between us. He finally rushed to my side, gently unwrapping the clumsy bandages I’d wrapped around my fingers and meticulously disinfecting the cuts. Seeing his mother was about to start another tirade, Sheldon said curtly, “She’s going into labor.” His mother’s face changed instantly, and she hurried out. Once she was gone, Sheldon watched me, his expression cautious. He chose his words carefully. “Penny, I know Emma is young and she upset you, but you shouldn’t have pushed her.” “I pushed her?” The words were incredulous, empty of feeling. “It’s okay, it’s okay. She won’t hold it against you,” he said, and though he didn’t say it outright, his words were a clear defense of her. He had already chosen a side. A profound exhaustion washed over me. I had no energy left to argue, to explain. In the contest between me and Emma, he had already chosen to believe her. Ten years of marriage meant nothing against a woman he’d known for less than a year. I watched him as he carefully tended to my wounds, his focus clearly elsewhere. I remembered the flicker of joy in his eyes when he’d said she was in labor.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393464”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I’m a forgotten shrine god, chained to decaying wood and stone. Forced to grant wishes for offerings, my power shackled by mortal desires. For ten days, Rhys came. Ten days of identical prayers for wealth and power through sacred incense. Needing one final wish cycle to ascend, I manifested before him with his ten incense sticks. “Ten wishes,” I whispered like wind through dead leaves, “but if my shrine falls, I vanish.” He snapped the first stick instantly: “Make me a Lord.” I wove fate from my essence, hollowing myself to fulfill it. The second wish surprised me—”Stay with me.” His tenderness persisted even as his power grew. When he wished for eternal love with the third stick, I yielded. Then war brought spoils—including Princess Elena. The fourth stick snapped: “Make her my wife.” “I clawed my way to this height for one reason,” he declared, his voice hard as iron, “to one day have the power to take her back. And now, that day has finally come.” Martha, the kind old housekeeper who cared for me, was aghast. “But what about Lady Lyra?” she pleaded. “She has been with you for five years, my lord. She has been loyal and devoted, asking for nothing, not even a title.” Her worried eyes met mine. Rhys’s face twisted in fury. He had Martha dragged away and beaten for her impertinence. “How dare a servant lecture me! Everything I have done, I have done for Elena! As for that other one… she can crawl back to whatever gutter she came from!” His voice was colder than a winter midnight. The maids fell silent, their hands stilling in their work. I suppose it was true. Before Princess Elena had been brought here as a hostage, he had treasured me. I was his precious secret, a woman to be cherished, one who could not be scolded or wronged. Every day he would beg me to say I loved him. But now that his childhood love was within his grasp, that devotion had vanished like smoke. Martha was old; she couldn’t endure such a brutal punishment. I stepped in front of her, shielding her from the guards. “I’ll do it,” I said to Rhys. “I will get you your princess.” His face lit up with an almost manic joy. He told me to be quick, then turned and strode away, already planning the wedding, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his true love. Days later, I intercepted the Crown Prince’s carriage. His royal guards had blades at my throat in an instant. Accusing me of attempted assassination, they tortured me, driving splinters between my fingers. The agony was a white-hot fire, so intense it stole the breath from my lungs and drained the color from my face. “I can save him!” I gasped. “I can save the Prince!” I knew Prince Kaelan was dying, that the King was frantic, seeking a cure from every corner of the realm. I poured a century of my divine power into him, pulling him back from the brink of death. The King was overjoyed. He summoned me to the throne room at once. “You have saved my son and heir,” he boomed. “Name your reward.” My eyes found Princess Elena, kneeling in a corner of the great hall. My voice was steady. “I ask that you sanction a marriage between Lord Rhys and Princess Elena.” The King agreed without a moment’s hesitation. A trivial hostage in exchange for his son’s life? It was a bargain. Rhys’s wedding was a grand affair. His entire estate was alive with celebration and music. Only my own small wing of the house remained dark and silent. I lay on my bed, wracked with violent coughs, a handkerchief stained crimson clutched in my hand. Saving the Prince had come at a terrible cost. He was meant to die; by twisting his fate, I had invited a backlash upon myself, siphoning away my own life force. A short while later, Martha scurried in to announce that Lord Rhys had arrived. The door flew open. He stood there, his arm wrapped possessively around Elena, his face a mask of cold disgust. Elena spoke first, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “I hear you’ve been pretending to be ill to win Rhys’s pity. I know it’s my fault… I know I’m the wicked one who stole your place.” Her eyes shimmered with tears that never fell. “If you truly cannot bear to have me here, then I will give it all back to you!” “You being here only makes Elena upset,” Rhys said, his voice flat. “It’s time for you to leave. Go back where you belong.” “You were only ever a substitute for her,” he continued, each word a hammer blow. “The fact that you resemble her in some small way was your greatest honor. But the real thing is here now. You need to be gone.” He started to turn away with her, but I found my voice, a sound as thin as a spider’s thread. “If I leave… does that count as my fifth wish?” He stopped dead. He reached into his coat and pulled out the fifth stick of incense. “Yes,” he said. “I wish for you to disappear from my life forever.” He had started carrying the sticks with him, just in case a wish struck him. He then pulled out a sixth and snapped it as well, the sneer in his voice undisguised. “I’m done playing your childish little games. I don’t believe for a second that you have any real power.” His face was cruel. “I only pretended to believe, I only coddled you, because you were a stand-in for Elena. Now that she’s back, you’re obsolete.” I grabbed his sleeve, trying desperately to make him understand. “I am the spirit of the ruined shrine. I am real…” “Enough!” he roared, shaking me off. “How long are you going to keep up this charade? You invented this whole fairy tale just to stay by my side, didn’t you?” No one believed me. No one ever believed in the god of a forgotten place. There was a time when my shrine flourished, when offerings were plentiful. I granted every wish they brought me. 2 When they wished for beauty, I became uglier. When they wished for wealth, my own divine light dimmed. Gradually, I could no longer grant their insatiable desires, and they stopped coming. My shrine fell to ruin, and I faded with it. But now, I was just one mortal’s prayer cycle away from my ascension. I waited a hundred years for someone to come, and then he appeared: Rhys, with his ten sticks of incense and his desperate wish. And so, I became indebted to him for ten wishes. Only by fulfilling them could I be free. I found him that first day, half-dead from poverty and despair on the side of a road. I offered him the ten sticks. “I must collect the wishes of mortals,” I had explained. “For every stick you break, I will grant you one wish.” Even then, on the verge of death, he had snapped the first. “I want to be rich. I want to be a Lord, so that no one can ever look down on me again.” To fulfill his ten wishes, I had to stay by his side. Then, on his birthday, he had looked into my eyes and, with a sincerity that felt real, snapped two sticks at once. “I wish for you to stay with me forever. I wish for us to grow old together.” A god knows nothing of love, nothing of desire. I only knew that this brought me two wishes closer to my goal. So I agreed. For years, we lived as husband and wife in all but name. He never officially married me, but the whole world thought he would. “Lord Rhys is just waiting until his position is secure,” they would whisper. “Then he will make an honorable woman of his love.” I believed them. But it was all a lie. Then, he had snapped two sticks to declare his love for me. Now, he snapped two more to cast me aside for another. I let my hand fall from his sleeve. “You have four sticks of incense left,” I said, my voice hollow. “When you have used them all, I will leave you forever.” He scoffed, pulling Elena closer and shoving me aside as they left. “Just get out of here for now. Elena doesn’t want to see you. As for your damned sticks, we’ll deal with them some other time.” He looked at Elena with an expression of utter devotion. As they passed, Elena paused and sighed dramatically. “Rhys, my love, she must adore you so. To endure such humiliation and still refuse to leave… perhaps you should give her some small title, out of pity.” Rhys was instantly defensive. “I’ll have her thrown out this instant! I swear on my life, Elena, you are the only one I will ever call my wife.” And so I was thrown out into the snow, with nothing but the clothes on my back. Martha was cast out with me, a dismissal contract clutched in her trembling hands. I had ruined her life as well. She used what little savings she had to get us a room at an inn. “My dear girl,” she said, her voice heavy with sorrow, “you have a pure heart. Lord Rhys does not love you. Why do you cling to him?” She looked at me sadly. “It’s time you opened your eyes and saw who else is out there.” She opened the window, and there, standing like a silent sentinel in the falling snow below, was Prince Kaelan. Martha’s heart ached for me; she wanted me to let go of Rhys and find a new life. But I was stubborn, my eyes fixed on the singular, burning desire for my ascension. “I still owe him four wishes,” I insisted. If I failed, I would be trapped in this mortal world forever. My breathing was becoming shallow, my body wracked with a profound exhaustion. Granting Rhys his lordship had already shortened my lifespan. Healing the Prince had aged my mortal form to that of an eighty-year-old woman. A dull, constant pain was my new companion, and I tossed and turned in the cheap bed. Martha, thinking I was lovesick for Rhys, could only sigh. She spoke of returning to her home village, of retiring. I took her hand and used a flicker of my remaining power, transforming my touch into a handful of silver coins that I pressed into her palm. This was my mess to clean up. After she left, I finally allowed myself to cough up the blood I’d been holding back. Using my power in such a weakened state was destroying me from the inside out. In the days that followed, my face grew haggard and my hair began to fall out. Every day, I would drag myself to Rhys’s estate, and every day, I would be turned away. My body grew weaker, and the slightest chill would confine me to bed for days. But I gritted my teeth, waiting. Waiting for him to break the next stick. Finally, I saw his carriage returning, with him and Elena inside. I threw myself in its path, but it didn’t slow. Not for an instant. The impact sent me flying. I landed in a heap, blood spilling from my lips. Rhys started to get out, but someone was faster. Prince Kaelan was there, sweeping me into his arms, calling for his attendants to stanch the bleeding. Rhys stood over us, his face a cold mask. “It’s just another one of her pathetic tricks for attention, Your Highness. Don’t fall for it. She’s a master of manipulation.” But Kaelan ignored him, his eyes fixed only on me. He tried to lift me, to take me away, but I struggled weakly. Four more sticks. I can’t leave yet. Rhys sneered. “You see? She loves me so much she’d rather die at my feet than leave with you.” Kaelan gave me one last, deep look, then turned and walked away into the snow. Pain lanced through my body. I tried to speak, but my throat was clogged with blood. With a blood-soaked hand, I grabbed the hem of Rhys’s fine leather boot. “Four… sticks left…” I rasped. “Just make your wishes and I’ll…” The world went black before I could finish.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393463”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Just because she was worried her sick first love couldn’t handle any hardship, my wife changed our honeymoon tickets and handed me over to his vicious creditors as collateral. “One week, James. A week at most,” she promised, her voice trembling. “As soon as I have the ransom, I’ll come get you. We can go anywhere you want after this. I’ll go with you.” For that one week, they treated me like an animal, torturing me until I was broken. I prayed for her to appear every waking moment. But her? She was casually watching movies with him, enjoying romantic sunrises and scenic sunsets by his side. It wasn’t until the tenth day that she finally showed up with the money, smiling, asking me where I wanted to go for the next leg of our trip. I just stared at her, my face a mask of confusion. “My wife? I’m sorry, miss, but I think you have the wrong person. I’m not married.” 1 “This plane… it’s not going to Paris, is it?” I tore my eyes from the window, my gaze landing coolly on my wife, Leah. The hand she was using to flip through a magazine froze mid-air. She snapped it shut with a practiced nonchalance and tapped me playfully on the forehead. “What a silly thing to say.” “It’s where we first met,” she said, her voice a little too bright. “Where else would we go for our honeymoon?” She took my hand then, lacing her fingers through mine, squeezing so tightly it almost hurt. It felt less like a gesture of affection and more like a desperate attempt to keep me from vanishing into thin air. I didn’t respond to her explanation. I just watched her, my silence a heavy weight between us. She was good at hiding it, but I could feel the tremor of panic in her grip. It wasn’t just her, either. The men sitting around us, burly and stern-faced, kept shooting me sidelong glances. Their eyes were sharp, vigilant, like hunters watching prey they expected to bolt at any moment. I took a deep, steadying breath. “You don’t have to lie to me,” I said, my voice flat. “You swapped the tickets. This is about saving Chuck, isn’t it?” The name hit her like a physical blow. I saw her whole body go rigid. Of course it did. Chuck was her first love, the man she’d dated for four years, the one she’d almost walked down the aisle with. “James, what are you talking about? I don’t understand,” she stammered, trying to rally. “He and I… that was over a long time ago.” I cut through her flimsy facade. “I heard.” “Chuck’s in deep with some very bad people. They’ve got him.” I held her gaze, refusing to let her look away. “He has that heart bypass surgery next week. You’re planning to trade me for him, aren’t you? A placeholder until you can pay his debt.” This time, she didn’t deny it. Her eyes darted away, unable to meet mine. “James, I’m your wife now. Don’t think such crazy things.” She was pleading now. “Chuck… he’s a victim in all this. He’s innocent.” A sharp, cold pain lanced through my chest as I watched her. “His family isn’t innocent, Leah.” “They got rich selling dangerous counterfeit supplements. They ruined lives, destroyed families…” Before I could finish, she leaned in and silenced me with a kiss. It was desperate, salty with the tears that were starting to form in her eyes. “Don’t,” she whispered against my lips, her voice thick and choked. “The Chucks were good to me once. I can’t just watch him die.” She pulled back, her eyes wide and pleading. “Just a small sacrifice, James. That’s all it takes for everyone to be happy… We’re married. For the sake of our marriage, please… help me one last time. Please?” I saw the unyielding determination in her eyes and a bitter laugh escaped my lips. “You’ve changed, Leah.” She didn’t answer. Instead, she just buried her face in my chest, her tears soaking through the fabric of my shirt. I knew then, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that she would never be over him. In Leah’s heart, I would always be second best to a man named Chuck. Even if he was a criminal who needed my freedom—our marriage—as a down payment for his salvation. … We didn’t speak for the rest of the flight. What was there to say? We both knew that once the plane landed, our life as husband and wife was effectively over. As the plane descended, my heart sank with it. Sure enough, the moment we stepped out of the jet bridge, a group of men built like brick shithouses surrounded us. The one in charge, a man with a jagged scar bisecting his eyebrow, followed Leah’s gaze to me. His expression was a cocktail of contempt, triumph, and a strange sort of pity. “Willing to trade her own husband to save another man,” he drawled, shaking his head. “Tsk, tsk… now that’s what you call love.” He flicked his wrist, and two of his goons grabbed my arms, their grips like iron clamps. The boss grinned, satisfied, and then shoved a frail figure towards Leah. “Chuck!” Leah cried out, rushing forward to catch him as he stumbled. He looked terrible. His face was ashen, his lips cracked and dry. He was a ghost of the man I’d seen in pictures. Leah wrapped her arms around him, her heart breaking all over her face. “What did they do to you?” she sobbed. “It’s okay. It’s all over now. You’re safe.” Chuck just nodded weakly, his eyes shining with the pure, unadulterated joy of a man pulled back from the brink of hell. I watched them, a hollow, self-mocking laugh bubbling in my throat. The concern she showed him was so real, so effortless. For a second, I lost the will to even struggle against the men holding me. What was I to her, really? A partner to build a life with? Or just a convenient, disposable asset? I had a feeling I’d never get an answer. From across the tarmac, Leah seemed to sense my stare. She bit her lip and finally looked at me. Her eyes were swimming with apology and guilt, but beneath it all was a core of unshakeable resolve. “James, I’m so sorry.” “I promised you Paris, our honeymoon… but I can’t… I can’t just let Chuck die. He needs me.” “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice earnest. “A week. Just give me one week, and I’ll have the money. I swear. And then, wherever you want to go, I’ll take you. Anywhere. Okay?” She stood on her toes, her eyes red and puffy, and tried to kiss me one last time. I turned my head away. Her lips met empty air. “Don’t call me your husband,” I said, my voice cold and dead. “Just go save your precious Chuck.” 2 Leah flinched, but her composure snapped back into place almost immediately. “James, I know I was wrong to hide this from you,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “Please, just trust me this one last time. I swear to you, you are the only husband I will ever have. I will be back on time.” I didn’t offer a single word in response to her vow. She opened her mouth, as if to say more, but closed it again. With one last, deep look, she turned, supporting Chuck’s weight, and hurried away. As they left, I watched their retreating backs, a barren wasteland blooming inside my chest. It was only then that I saw it: Chuck glanced back over his shoulder at me. A faint, cryptic smile played on his lips. It took me a long time to understand that smile. It was the smug grin of a man who had clawed his way out of hell, knowing full well who he’d left behind to take his place. … Day three of Leah’s abandonment. Still no word. Not a text, not a call. Nothing. “Boss, you think this broad is playing us? Three days and not a goddamn peep!” a heavyset brute growled. As if to punctuate his frustration, he snatched a rattan cane from the floor and lashed it across my back. I’d been starved for three days straight. The festering wounds on my body were so deep you could see bone. In the forty-degree heat of the dilapidated warehouse, the cuts had started to rot, a sweet, sickening stench rising from my own flesh. I summoned my last ounce of strength, reaching for a crust of bread someone had dropped on the filthy floor. Before my fingers could touch it, a boot came down, snapping the bones in my right hand with a sickening crunch. The man they called “Scar” grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. His face, a roadmap of old fights, was etched with impatience and a chilling brutality. “You’d better pray to whatever god you believe in that your little wife isn’t screwing with me,” he snarled, “or else…” He punctuated the threat with a vicious kick to my stomach. A supernova of pain exploded behind my eyes. My stomach heaved, but there was nothing in it to throw up. Only bitter acid dribbled from the corner of my mouth. “Fuck! Disgusting!” Scar spat, stepping back to avoid the mess. He planted his boot on my chest and ground his heel in. “String him up!” Rough hands hauled me to my feet. My arms were wrenched behind my back and tied to a pipe overhead. The rope bit into my skin, a searing, white-hot agony. My head lolled forward, sweat and blood mixing, dripping into my eyes and blurring my vision. “The hell is wrong with you? Are you even her husband?” Scar taunted, his voice dripping with scorn. “It’s been three days! She hasn’t sent a single message, but she’s got time to go gallivanting up some mountain with pretty-boy, watching the fucking sunrise and sunset.” He sneered. “What are you, the pathetic side-piece she dumped?” His words were like shards of glass, piercing my heart, stealing the air from my lungs. He was talking about the picture on my phone. The one Chuck had posted to his social media feed yesterday. A photo of him and Leah, beaming. The caption read: Nothing like a beautiful sunrise to clear your head after getting out of the hospital. In the picture, they looked like they were on a blissful vacation. Another photo showed them at a five-star restaurant, feasting on a lavish meal. They were the ones on a honeymoon. And me? I was here, in this living hell, where every minute was an eternity, unable to get so much as a sip of clean water. And from Leah? Absolute silence. Rage simmered within me, but I was too weak from hunger to even fuel it. All I could do was pray for the seven days to pass quickly. The moment I get out of here, I swear to God, I’m divorcing her. But I had still, foolishly, overestimated my place in her world. The promised week came and went. There was no sign of Leah. Not even a text message. The truth finally crashed down on me. I’d been abandoned. Her promises, her “love,” it was all just a smokescreen to get Chuck out. And I was the pawn she’d sacrificed without a second thought. “Boss, what’s the plan now?” a wiry-looking thug asked nervously. Scar shot a disgusted look in my direction and raked a hand through his greasy hair. “The plan? What do you think the plan is? The bitch played us for fools!” The wiry one made a slicing motion across his throat. “So, we just… off him?” SMACK! Scar slapped him hard across the back of the head. “Off him? Are you a fucking idiot? We kill him, we get nothing!” he roared. “Keep an eye on this piece of shit. I want to see what that bitch’s next move is. But if the money doesn’t show up soon… go find a buyer for his kidneys.” I lay on the cold concrete, their words washing over me, my heart turning to ash. An image of Chuck’s pale face flashed in my mind, that strange, victorious smile he’d given me as he left. So that’s what it was. The smile of a winner. And I was the fool, kept in the dark, played from the very beginning. I thought Leah and I had something real. I thought we were building a future. In the end, it was all just a story I’d told myself. I closed my eyes, a wave of despair pulling me under. I was ready to give up, to just let go. But then, a sudden, jarring sound cut through the silence. My phone was ringing. “Boss, it’s a call!” the wiry thug yelled, snatching up my phone. He glanced at the screen, his eyes widening. “It’s her! It’s Leah!” My heart, which I thought had died, suddenly slammed against my ribs, a frantic, desperate beat. She finally called. I held my breath, every fiber of my being straining to hear her voice. But in the next second, my world plunged into an abyss.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393462”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My five-year-old daughter jumped to her death at school. While her teacher frantically called and texted, I calmly turned off my phone and watched a movie. In my past life, I’d rushed there in panic—only to find her lifeless body. The teacher claimed my daughter confessed to enduring long-term beatings before jumping. Even my husband accused me of abuse. Yet I’d cherished her, never raising a hand or voice. When the medical examiner revealed her body—covered in years of bruises—I became society’s monster. My parents were driven to suicide after online harassment bankrupted them. I died in prison, beaten by inmates. I never understood: how could my pampered child have those injuries? Now reborn on the day of her death, I’ll uncover the truth. 1 “Honey, come have breakfast. I learned to make this just for you.” Markus, ever the gentle and attentive husband, brought a tray of breakfast and placed it in front of me. Looking at his familiar, soft smile, a shiver ran down my spine. Markus had married into my family. Since our wedding day, he had been a stay-at-home dad, taking care of me and our daughter, Lily. For years, he had been meticulous and thoughtful, attending to our every need. My friends all said I had found the perfect man, a man as gentle as water. I had believed them. If only, in my last life, he hadn’t stood before a crowd, his eyes blazing with fury, and accused me of being a monster who abused her own child. I never would have known that this mild-mannered man had such a twisted side. “Honey, what are you daydreaming about? Come on, eat up.” Markus waved a hand in front of my face. Suppressing the storm of confusion and rage in my heart, I sat down at the table. Across from me, my daughter was taking small sips of her milk. My eyes instantly turned red. Today was the day. After she finished breakfast and went to school, she would jump from the building. When I arrived, all I would see was her body. I would hold her cold form, crying until I nearly passed out. But her teacher would point at me, telling me to stop my fake tears. I wouldn’t understand. She would declare, with righteous indignation, that my daughter had jumped because of my long-term domestic abuse. That my daughter had even confessed she would rather die than go home. As I was arguing with the teacher, Markus would arrive. I would be filled with hope, expecting him to clear my name. But he would stand before the crowd, his eyes red, and roar at me. “From the day I married into your family, you’ve done nothing but beat and curse me! You never treated me like a human being!” “For Lily’s sake, I endured it all.” “I told you, you can do whatever you want to me, but why did you have to do this to our daughter?” “I begged you countless times! Why did you have to push her to her death?!” His words were daggers, his voice thick with tears. He would list my supposed “atrocities” for all to hear, painting me as a sadistic monster who reveled in cruelty. My desperate explanations would be drowned out by the jeers and curses of the crowd. Then the medical examiner would arrive. He would reveal the dense network of scars covering my daughter’s body. Old injuries and new, a testament to long-term abuse. “Even a tiger won’t eat its own cub! This woman is worse than an animal!” “Someone like her doesn’t deserve a husband or a child! She doesn’t deserve to live!” “Her poor daughter, stuck with such an inhuman monster!” “Letting her live another second is a pollution to the earth!” With the “irrefutable evidence” before them, the insults would rain down. Some people in the crowd would even throw trash and rocks at me, wishing they could kill me on the spot. Amidst the storm of hatred, I would be handcuffed and taken away. In an instant, hashtags like #EvilMother, #VenomousWoman, and #PoorFatherAndDaughter would dominate the internet. I would be subjected to the most vicious online abuse and curses imaginable. My parents, too, would be doxxed. Their company would go bankrupt. They would be trapped in their home, unable to leave without being pelted with filth and screamed at. Eventually, they would die in their home, their bodies left to rot. And I would be tortured to death by my fellow inmates. Even as I died, I never understood. Why would my pampered daughter have a body covered in scars and jump to her death? The pain of my past life was still vivid. This time, I would uncover the truth. 2 I ate my breakfast as usual. When Markus was about to take our daughter to school, I stopped him. “Lily’s hair is a bit messy. Let me brush it for her.” I led my daughter into the bathroom and closed the door. Without a word, I lifted her shirt. Her skin was smooth as jade, without a single bruise. It was a world away from the scarred body of my last life. So, what went wrong? Why, in just a few hours, would her body be covered in injuries, both new and old? “Honey, are you done yet? Lily’s going to be late.” Markus’s voice, accompanied by a knock on the door, pulled me from my thoughts. I opened the door and looked at him. “I’ll take her to school today.” A flicker of confusion crossed his face, quickly replaced by a gentle smile. “Okay, honey. Thank you for doing that.” He turned and began clearing the table without another word. His reaction was so normal, so unremarkable, that it was chilling. The more normal he acted, the more desperate I was to find the truth. On the way to school, I couldn’t help but ask my daughter, “Lily, has anyone at school been bullying you?” She smiled sweetly. “No, Mommy. I’m very popular at school. Everyone likes to play with me.” I paused. “What about your teachers? Are they nice to you?” “My teachers are all very nice! My homeroom teacher even tells me stories and gives me little presents.” Her answers were natural and cheerful, her young face a picture of happiness. I pulled the car over and looked at her seriously. “And what about me? How do you think Mommy treats you?” She looked at me with her clear, wide eyes and answered without hesitation. “Mommy is very nice to me too.” Then she leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Lily loves Mommy the most!” I hugged her, saying nothing more, and drove her to the kindergarten. Her teacher was waiting at the gate. “Lily’s mom! What a nice surprise to see you bringing her to school today.” The teacher greeted me with a warm smile, taking Lily’s hand. “It’s a slow day at the office,” I replied, smiling back while subtly observing her. She crouched down, still smiling, and playfully tapped Lily’s nose. “See, Lily? Your mommy loves you so much. She’s so busy with work, but she still made time to bring you to school.” The teacher’s demeanor was friendly and natural. Even the way she looked at my daughter seemed genuine and full of affection. She didn’t seem like a two-faced hypocrite at all. But that only made me more confused. In my last life, I had a decent relationship with this teacher. She was kind, treated my daughter well, and was always smiling. The kids in her class adored her. I had tried to treat her to dinner several times to thank her for taking such good care of Lily, but she always refused, saying it was just her duty as a teacher. In my mind, she was a dedicated, fair, and excellent educator. Yet this same upright and easygoing woman, in just a few hours, would publicly accuse me of being a monster who abused her child. I couldn’t figure out where it all went wrong. 3 There were three hours until my daughter was supposed to jump. But I was still completely in the dark. The thought of my vibrant daughter suddenly becoming a cold corpse made me break out in a cold sweat. In my last life, everything happened so suddenly that I was powerless to stop it. This time, I would not let the tragedy repeat itself. After a brief chat with the teacher, I left. But I didn’t go far. I parked nearby and continued to watch. I stayed in my car even after the school gates closed and classes began, my mind racing. Why, when I had done nothing wrong, did I become a universally condemned monster? Why was my daughter perfectly fine when she left the house, only to be covered in years of old injuries and jump to her death after just a few hours at school? Why did my thoughtful husband and the kind, upright teacher both turn on me at the same time, accusing me of crimes I didn’t commit? The questions swirled in my head, leaving me more and more confused. I knew something was terribly wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I forced myself to replay the events of my past life, searching for any clue, any thread that might unravel this mystery. After forty minutes of intense concentration, it hit me. A flash of insight. I immediately called my secretary. “I need you to find something out for me. Quickly.” After giving my instructions, I waited in the car, my heart pounding in my chest. I desperately needed to know if I was finally close to the truth. Ten minutes later, he called back with his findings. Listening to his report, my hand holding the phone began to shake uncontrollably. It was just as I suspected. “I need you to do something for me,” I said, my voice firm. “As fast as possible. Spare no expense. And remember, don’t tell anyone.” After hanging up, I drove away from the school. Two hours later, the teacher’s calls began. One after another, frantic and insistent. When I didn’t answer, she started sending texts. “Lily’s mom, something terrible has happened! Your daughter jumped from the school building! You need to get here right away!” “Lily’s mom, why aren’t you answering your phone? Please come to the school as soon as you see this!” The urgent messages kept coming. I simply turned off my phone and went back to watching the movie I had started in the company lounge. Half an hour later, the movie ended. I turned my phone back on to find every major social media platform flooded with curses and insults directed at me. Many people were live-streaming. From the kindergarten. In the video, Lily’s teacher was weeping, her voice thick with heartbreak. “Lily was always such a good girl. All the kids and teachers at school loved her. I just don’t understand how her mother could do this to her, beat her so badly.” “Once, Lily cried to me, saying she would rather die than go home. I thought she was joking. I never thought she would actually jump.” “She was only five years old! How much suffering must she have endured to choose this path?” “I’ve called her mother a dozen times, and she won’t answer. She won’t reply to my texts. It’s as if her daughter’s death means nothing to her. How can there be such a cold, heartless mother in this world?” The teacher then played a video on her phone. In the video, my daughter spoke in a small, timid voice. “Miss Davis, you can have all the candy in my backpack. Please, just don’t make me go home. My mommy hits me every day. I’m so scared of her. I don’t want to go home.” Her eyes were filled with tears, her face a mask of terror. The sight made the teacher herself break down, covering her face as she sobbed. The live-stream’s popularity skyrocketed. The comments were a torrent of grief for my daughter and vile hatred for me. Markus was there too, clutching our daughter’s body, wailing for the cameras. “Sophia’s family is rich, and she always looked down on me for marrying into it! At home, she was a tyrant! The slightest thing would set her off, and she would beat me and Lily! She never treated us like human beings!” He rolled up his sleeves, showing the bruises on his arms to the camera. “I tried to divorce her, but she threatened that I would never see Lily again. I couldn’t bear to leave my daughter, so I endured it. But I never imagined she would drive Lily to suicide! I regret it so much! Why did I ever marry such a venomous, cold-hearted monster!” Just like in my past life, Markus delivered a heart-wrenching performance, his pain and grief palpable. The audience was enraged. “Oh my god, how can such a disgusting woman exist?” “She doesn’t even deserve to be called human! Her parents must be trash too, to raise a monster like her! I hope they all die a horrible death!” “I’m shaking with anger! Someone please do us all a favor and get rid of her! My keyboard can’t do enough damage!” The internet mob was in a frenzy, all of them seemingly desperate to see me destroyed. The power of public condemnation was terrifying. In my last life, faced with my daughter’s body, my husband’s betrayal, and the entire internet’s hatred, my spirit had been crushed. I was defenseless, unjustly imprisoned, and tortured to death. Even my parents had been dragged down with me. But this time, as the same scene played out, as the curses and insults flooded my screen, I felt no turmoil. Instead, I felt a thrilling sense of vengeance. I put away my phone and drove to the kindergarten. Seeing the massive crowd surrounding the scene, a small smile played on my lips. The show was about to begin.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393461”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The night of my first day at the new company, the CEO called my phone by mistake. He thought I was Stella, the most beautiful girl in our batch of new interns. He added me on a messaging app, and for the next six months, we had an online relationship. It wasn’t until his birthday that he discovered he had the wrong person. Humiliated and enraged, he took all his anger out on me. When he found out my mother was sick, he threatened to have her medication cut off if I didn’t obey him. Powerless, I submitted. But he only pushed further, demanding I “sacrifice” myself to a greasy tycoon for the sake of the company. With no way out, I threw myself from the rooftop of the office building. After I died, my mother, consumed by guilt, took her own life. My father, unable to bear the successive blows, wandered into the middle of the road and was killed instantly by a truck that couldn’t stop in time. When I opened my eyes again, I was six months in the past. I was back on the night the CEO made that first, fateful phone call. My head was a chaotic fog. All I could remember was the wind howling on the rooftop. When I hit the ground, there was a searing pain, and then, nothing. Death, it seemed, wasn’t so terrible after all. But the pain vanished as quickly as it came. I opened my eyes again and found myself lying on the sofa. My father’s gentle nagging filled the air. “Don’t fall asleep on the couch, Anna. It’s getting colder; you’ll catch a cold.” “I’m heading to the hospital to be with your mother in a bit. Dinner’s on the table. Make sure you eat on time, okay?” My hand trembled uncontrollably. My father… wasn’t he dead? My mother… she was still getting her medicine? Where was I? What time was it? I scrambled up, fumbling for my phone. The large clock and date on the screen confirmed it. I had been reborn, sent back six months in time. Back to the day my boss, Leo Cooper, made that mistaken call. In my past life, Leo had dialed my number by accident. But even though it was a mistake, he was captivated by my voice. He asked to add me on a messaging app. Soon after, we began a secret relationship. For six months, he was consumed with taking his company public, flying all over the world on business trips. We never even saw each other’s faces. Then, on his birthday, he sent me an address. “It’s been long enough,” he wrote. “We should finally meet.” I arrived, my heart fluttering with excitement, only to be met with his stunned, angry face. “What are you doing here?” I was frozen. If not me, who was he expecting? “I’m sorry, I don’t date my employees. We’re breaking up.” His attitude did a complete 180. From then on, he made my life at work a living hell. I was a designer, but he sent me to a construction site to haul cement, forbidding me from leaving until I had moved five thousand pounds of it. He’d make the entire office work overtime, then send me out alone to buy dozens of meals for everyone, only to cancel the overtime at the last minute because it was “too late for everyone to get home safely.” I thought about quitting, of course. But he used my sick mother as leverage. “If you quit, I’ll have the hospital cut off her medication. You’ll have all the money in the world and still won’t be able to save her.” I knew he could do it, so I endured. But my submission only made him bolder. He demanded I sleep with a disgusting tycoon to secure a deal for the company. The man was only a few years younger than my father but weighed four times as much. Worse, he was known throughout the industry for his sadistic tendencies. The young women he targeted all ended up with severe psychological trauma, vanishing from the professional world forever. Seeing no escape, my heart finally died. My phone was buzzing nonstop with his threatening texts. “Don’t be ungrateful. It’s just money you’re after, isn’t it? What else could you possibly want?” “Keep Mr. Harrison happy, and you’ll be well compensated.” Even then, he didn’t forget to use my mother as a weapon. “You’d better think carefully. Your parents’ lives are in your hands.” Was my entire future just a choice between one form of submission and another? I stood on the rooftop of the company building, took a final leap, and ended my miserable life. But somehow, I was back. Just as the clock on my phone hit 7:13 p.m., it began to ring. Staring at the number I knew all too well, I didn’t answer. I simply rejected the call. And sent back a text. “You have the wrong number. The last digit of her number is 9.” 2 The phone rang again. Unsure of his intentions, I simply blocked the number. But moments later, a contact request popped up on my work messenger, sent from his phone number. After submitting a resume for another job, I accepted it. I was morbidly curious to see what he would say this time. The message came through instantly. “Are you psychic or something? How did you know who I was looking for?” That wasn’t what he said in my past life. Back then, it was, “Your voice is incredible, like the first day of spring.” I had thought it was the beginning of my happiness. I learned later that I was wrong. It was the beginning of my nightmare. He loved my voice but pictured someone else’s face. My profile picture was similar to hers, and the last letter of our names was the same. A series of coincidences led him to believe I was her. This time, I hadn’t let him hear my voice at all. I was sure things would be different. When I didn’t respond, another message came through. “You must know who I am. Why aren’t you saying anything?” “Are you nervous?” “Don’t worry, I’m not one of those high-and-mighty types.” He always said that. But in reality, Leo Cooper, the sole heir to the Cooper fortune and CEO of a massive corporation, looked down on people like me from the bottom of his heart. In his world, ordinary people like us were scum who would do anything to climb the social ladder. That’s why, when he discovered his mistake, his first reaction wasn’t self-reflection, but vile abuse. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you!” “Have you looked in a mirror? What makes you think I’d ever be with someone like you!” “This is disgusting. The most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to me.” He had pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and thrown it in my face. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Scheming to seduce me for money! Here, take it! Now get out!” I got out. But he never let it go. The endless bullying, the constant humiliation… it drove me to my death. Now, reading his words, I didn’t believe a single one. It was almost laughable. I typed back a simple reply: Mr. Cooper, my name is Anna Shaw. I am not Stella Shaw. The chat went silent. The “…” indicating he was typing appeared and disappeared several times, but nothing came through. Just as I thought I might finally be free of this demon, a video call request popped up. My finger slipped, and I accidentally answered. On the other end, Leo was at a bar with his friends. Several handsome, smirking faces crowded the screen, staring at my side of the call. Then, they burst out laughing. It took Leo a long moment to compose himself. “Sorry about that,” he said, still trying to suppress a chuckle. “My mistake. Wrong person.” One of his friends shouted from off-screen. “Yeah, definitely not the beauty we saw last time. This one’s so plain.” “Seriously. And the acne… I thought it was a toad at first.” The insults were just as cruel as they were in my past life. And just like before, Leo did nothing to stop them. But this time, I didn’t get angry. I just smiled faintly. “I have to go. Goodbye, Mr. Cooper.” 3 Perhaps it was my calm, unflustered demeanor that piqued his interest. He didn’t let me go as I had hoped. Instead, he started sending me random, pointless messages every few days. “Have you ever been to Europe? It’s beautiful when it snows here.” “I love Portuguese red wine. What about you?” “Are the interns so busy they don’t have time to reply to the CEO? When I get back, I’ll have a word with your department head.” He even punctuated that last one with a cute emoji. If this were my past life, his persistent attention would have charmed me. I would have quickly fallen into the illusion of a romance. But this time, I was calm. I knew he wasn’t interested in me. He was driven by a need to conquer. In my past life, I had rejected him at first. I knew we were from two different worlds. But he had worn me down, starting with these same casual messages, slowly weaving himself into the fabric of my life. So many times, I truly believed I was special to him. But even before his birthday, I had started to see that he wasn’t the man I imagined. He wasn’t as innocent or as warm as he pretended to be. The moment we made our relationship “official,” his attitude toward me cooled considerably. I didn’t understand it then. I do now. Once he had conquered something, he lost interest. So this time, I didn’t reply to any of his messages. When a response was unavoidable, I kept my tone cold and professional. “You’re joking, Mr. Cooper. Our supervisor is very good to us, and the workload is perfectly reasonable.” He sent back a voice message, a chuckle in his tone. “You’re so serious. Can’t take a joke at all, can you?” After listening to it, I exchanged a look with Stella, who sat at the desk across from me. She held up her phone with a disgusted expression. On her screen was a message from Leo, full of cloying flirtation. “Why are you ignoring me? Just because you’re beautiful doesn’t mean you can ignore people.” “Talk to me, and big brother CEO will buy you candy when he gets back.” Stella made a gagging motion and sent me a private message. “If I die of cringing, is that a workplace injury? Will the company cover it?” I replied, “Talk to him. Maybe big brother CEO will consider covering it.” Stella shook her head so vigorously she looked like a bobblehead. Leo would never have guessed that a quiet, introverted person like me would approach Stella the moment I realized he was harassing her, just as he had in my past life. I had told her directly, “I know Leo Cooper is interested in you, but I’m advising you to stay far away from him.” Most people would have seen it as a golden opportunity and dismissed my warning as jealousy. But Stella was a genuinely kind and simple soul, despite her stunning looks. She was stunned by my words. I thought she didn’t believe me and was about to show her my chat history with Leo, but she grabbed my phone and turned off the screen. “I believe you,” she said firmly. “We’re the working class, he’s the capitalist. Of course I believe you.” “Just watch,” I had told her. “He won’t stop here.” And I was right. After that, Leo started sending the same flirtatious messages to both of us simultaneously. He probably thought that with his status and looks, conquering two naive interns would be child’s play. This time, however, he seemed to have miscalculated. No matter what he tried, we both remained completely indifferent.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393460”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The Thanksgiving holiday was looming, and the plan was to drive to my mother-in-law’s for the week. The day before we were set to leave, my wife, Lillian, announced that her childhood sweetheart wanted to catch a ride with us. I stared at her, incredulous. “But Aiden doesn’t drive, does he?” Lillian, who always complained about being behind the wheel, suddenly volunteered for the long haul. Even my daughter, Mia, sided with them. “Daddy, Uncle Aiden isn’t feeling well. You wouldn’t make him squeeze onto a crowded train, would you?” I stopped arguing. Right there in front of them, I booked my ticket. Only, it wasn’t to their destination. It was to my own parents’ house. A wife who played favorites and a daughter I couldn’t seem to win over. I was done with them both. … The phone call had been blunt. Lillian didn’t even try to soften the blow. “Bryan, Aiden needs a ride back to his hometown for the holiday, too. There won’t be room in the car, so you’ll have to book a train ticket.” My hands, busy packing a suitcase, froze. I looked at her, trying to process what she’d just said. “What do you mean?” Lillian, assuming I hadn’t heard, repeated herself with a sharp edge of impatience. “My car only seats five. With Aiden, we’ll be full. You can just take the train. It’s the same difference.” Aiden. Her high school flame. The one that got away. If he hadn’t married someone else all those years ago, Lillian would never have settled for me, the guy who’d been quietly in love with her for years. I was the consolation prize. I’d always hoped that time would wear away his place in her heart, but I was a fool. Ever since Aiden got divorced and moved back to Riverwood, everything had changed. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “You want me to take the train?” I asked, just to be sure. “Is there a problem?” she replied, genuinely confused. I couldn’t help but smile, a cold, humorless thing. “Have you forgotten who’s actually on our marriage certificate?” Her hand slapped the table. “Bryan, don’t start this again! I’m just asking you to take a train home. Are you some kind of prince? Are you too good for public transport? It’s fine for everyone else, but not for you?” It’s always the ones with something to hide who protest the loudest. This wasn’t the first time she’d lashed out at me to defend Aiden. Watching her now, her anger a flimsy shield for her guilt, all I felt was a profound sense of disappointment. It was as if all the years of my quiet devotion, my endless compromises, had just evaporated into nothing. I stopped packing and spoke, my voice flat. “Fine. I just won’t go. You all have a good time.” Lillian blinked, caught off guard. She struggled for a moment before softening her tone, a familiar tactic. “Honey, come on. Aiden has had claustrophobia since he was a kid; he can’t handle the tight spaces on a train. And my parents are getting older, Mia’s still so young… I had to ask you. I know it’s a lot, but you’re so understanding. You can see why I had to, right?” She leaned in, trying for a sweet, conspiratorial tone. “Besides, the train doesn’t get stuck in holiday traffic. You’ll get there early! You can air out the old house and get it ready for us. It’s a win-win!” In our family, I was the stay-at-home dad. I’d sacrificed my own career so Lillian could climb the corporate ladder, happily taking on the role of homemaker. But my sacrifice had earned me nothing but her indifference. Her heart had always belonged to Aiden. She had considered Aiden’s phobia, her parents’ comfort, her daughter’s needs. I was the only one left out of her circle of care. And that last line—about me getting the house ready—that was the real point. “I seem to recall Aiden doesn’t drive,” I said quietly. Lillian waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll drive. He can sit in the passenger seat.” I remembered when I’d sprained my ankle last year and couldn’t drive. I’d asked her to pick me up. She’d thrown a fit. “Bryan, I’m your wife, not your chauffeur!” I always thought she just hated driving. Now I realized the truth. She didn’t hate driving. She just hated who was sitting next to her. In that single, clarifying moment, my long-held obsession with Lillian shattered. It was over. 2 “If there’s no room for me,” I said, my voice hardening, “then what’s the point of me even showing up?” Seeing my resolve, Lillian’s patient facade crumbled. “What is your problem? We promised my parents we’d all be there. You’re the son-in-law! If you just don’t show up, what will my family think? How does that make me look?” I stared at her, speechless. You’re the one kicking me out, and now it’s my fault? At that moment, our daughter Mia, hearing her mother’s raised voice, came running. She looked up at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Daddy, are you not coming with us to Grandma’s? Who’s going to cook for me?” Lillian seized on the comment, nodding as if it were perfectly logical. “Exactly. Are you going to let your daughter starve?” So that’s what I was to them. A cook. A tool. A dry, mirthless laugh was all I could manage. “Then let Aiden take the train.” Before Lillian could even form a rebuttal, five-year-old Mia jumped in. “Daddy, Uncle Aiden isn’t well! How can you be so mean and make him take the train?” I looked at my daughter, at the self-righteous certainty on her face, and my blood ran cold. My chest felt tight, like a band was squeezing my ribs. This was my little princess, the one I doted on, and her words were a betrayal. My voice rose, escaping my control. “Do you even know who your father is anymore?” Mia burst into tears. “You’re a mean daddy! I don’t want you to be my daddy! All you do is stay home while Mommy makes all the money! I like Uncle Aiden! I want him to be my dad!” Her words, full of childish contempt, struck me dumb. In that instant, the last bit of hope in me died. Lillian snatched Mia from my side, cradling her protectively and glaring at me. “She’s just a child, Bryan! Why are you taking it out on her?” she hissed. “I asked you to take the train. Is it really worth making such a scene over?” Emboldened by her mother’s support, Mia’s voice grew louder. “You’re a bad dad! I don’t want to ride with you! Uncle Aiden said he bought me lots of snacks for the road. You’re just a loser! You should take the train!” Lillian tried to clamp a hand over Mia’s mouth, but it was too late. “She’s a kid, Bryan,” she said quickly. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.” Oh, but she did. She had ears to hear, eyes to see, and a mouth to repeat what she was taught. I finally understood. In the eyes of my wife, her precious Aiden, and even the daughter I had raised with all my heart, I wasn’t a husband or a father. I was the live-in help who handled the chores. A good-for-nothing failure. And to think, I once had a promising career of my own. I looked at the two of them, mother and daughter, two faces like mirror images, their affection for Aiden a shared, ugly trait. Fine. If that’s how it is, I’m done. A housekeeper gets paid. Why the hell was I serving a bunch of ungrateful vipers for free? Seeing my silence, Lillian tried to reason with me again. “Honey, don’t be angry. Just do this for me this one time. My parents are old, Mia’s young… it just makes sense for you to take the train. Remember those headphones you were looking at online? I’ll buy them for you on Black Friday, how about that?” I scoffed. It was her signature move. After every fight, instead of an apology, she’d buy me the cheapest item on my wish list to smooth things over. For years, I told myself she was just being frugal for our family’s sake. Then I found out she’d spent a month’s salary on a custom-made designer suit for Aiden’s birthday. That’s when I learned the truth: a woman spends money on the man she loves. And I was an afterthought. The argument we had over that suit was epic, and it ended with her calling me “childish and irrational.” That, I think, was when the first major crack appeared in our marriage. I had swallowed my pride and stayed, for Mia’s sake. And here she was again, dangling a pair of headphones she wouldn’t even buy until the Black Friday sales. The reality of my marriage crashed down on me: a demanding wife who treated me like a servant, and a daughter who despised me for not being a breadwinner. What was I even fighting for anymore? My entire life revolved around them, a boring, thankless loop of chores and errands with no space for myself. Suddenly, I couldn’t stand being in that house a second longer. I pulled out my phone. As Lillian and Mia watched, I booked the train ticket. She and my daughter left the room, smug and satisfied. What she didn’t know was that my ticket was for a different destination entirely: my own parents’ house. 3 The next morning, Aiden arrived bright and early, dragging a suitcase behind him. Lillian had insisted on an early start to beat the holiday traffic on the highway. The moment she saw him, she rushed forward. “You’re here so early! I was going to pick you up from your place.” Her voice was laced with concern. “They said it’s going to get cold. Did you pack warm clothes?” I just stood there in the doorway, a silent observer to their tender reunion, feeling nothing at all. My eyes drifted to my own large suitcase, which I had packed the night before. I remembered Lillian’s words: “Bryan, the trunk isn’t big enough for all that. You’re a grown man, what do you need so much stuff for? You can just take that big one with you on the train.” Two suitcases, roughly the same size. For him, it was a question of whether he had enough clothes. For me, it was an inconvenience. The message was clear: Lillian knew how to care for someone. Just not for me. I didn’t argue. Her suggestion suited my plans perfectly. After a few minutes of fawning over Aiden, they finally seemed to remember I was there. Aiden turned to me, his face a mask of feigned apology. “Bryan, man, I’m really sorry about this. It just so happens I was heading home for Thanksgiving too, so… well, thanks for taking the train.” The words were contrite, but his tone was pure gloating. I raised an eyebrow at the amateur actor in front of me. “If you feel so bad, why don’t you head to the station and buy a ticket now?” Aiden froze, clearly not expecting me to call his bluff. Like a mother hen, Lillian immediately stepped in front of him, shielding him from me. “Bryan,” she said, her voice sharp with displeasure, “we talked about this last night. Don’t go back on your word.” From behind her, Aiden chimed in with a saccharine, cloying explanation. “It’s not your fault, Bryan, really. I’ve just had this thing since I was a kid… can’t do trains. The enclosed space… I can’t breathe. Lily was just worried about me, that’s all. She insisted I ride with her. Please don’t let this come between you two because of me.” It was a masterclass in passive aggression, a blatant declaration of his importance over mine. And in that moment, I was so profoundly grateful that I had given up on her. I watched them, standing so close they were practically one person. A sudden laugh escaped me. “Relax. I was just joking. Why so tense?” Lillian’s expression softened, and she busied herself with loading the luggage into the car. Just then, Mia, hearing the commotion, came tearing out of her bedroom. She barreled right past me, shoving me aside, and threw herself into Aiden’s arms. “Uncle Aiden! You’re finally here! I missed you so, so much!” The force of her push sent me stumbling into the doorframe. A sharp pain shot up my arm, and I knew a nasty bruise was already forming. Not once since she started elementary school had Mia ever shown me that kind of affection. She only ever complained that I was too strict, too overprotective. I was cautious because she’d always been a sickly child. But my care had curdled into a reason for her to resent me. In contrast, she adored Aiden. Her bright, cheerful voice cut through the air. “Uncle Aiden, can you be my new daddy?” “If you were my daddy, I could see you every day!” “We could go to theme parks and eat yummy food all the time! I’m so tired of just doing homework, homework, homework!” Each word was a razor blade slicing across my heart, turning years of fatherly devotion into weapons against me. No one stopped her. Aiden just shot a triumphant glance at me over her head. He hugged her close, his voice dripping with faux tenderness. “Well, if you want to call me ‘daddy,’ I suppose you can. I’d be lucky to have such a cute little girl.” I stood there, watching this grotesque little play unfold. Suddenly, I began to applaud, a slow, deliberate clap. “A real touching scene. Betrayal looks good on you both.” Mia’s face flushed with shame. Aiden, however, doubled down, positioning himself as the righteous one. “Kids are pure, Bryan. They know who’s good to them. Isn’t that right?” I nodded slowly. “You’re right. Though unlike some people, I don’t have a thing for playing dad to other men’s kids.” His face darkened. Seeing Lillian returning from the elevator, he raised his voice, performing for her benefit. “Bryan, I was just trying to remind you to pay more attention to your daughter! How could you twist my words like that?” Lillian glared at me, ready to jump to his defense. But before she could say a word, I slapped a folded document onto her chest. “I’m setting you two lovebirds free,” I announced, my voice ringing with finality. “There’s the divorce agreement.” Then, without a backward glance, I grabbed my large suitcase and walked out of their lives.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393459”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Five years after I accidentally landed in this world, the System finally flagged me as a bug. It was preparing to send me back to my own time, granting me three days to say my goodbyes. On the first day, my wife, Valentina, held a wedding ceremony with her childhood sweetheart. I smiled as I personally placed the ring on his finger. On the second day, my birthday, she sent 999 roses to her sweetheart with a heartfelt public declaration of her love. I quietly liked the post on her social media feed. On the third day, she planned to take her darling sweetheart on a honeymoon to the Lake District—the one place I had always dreamed of seeing. I helped them pack. As they boarded the train, I turned and stepped into the portal that would take me home. 1 I was reading when Sam called. His voice was a storm of indignation, all on my behalf. “Valentina has lost her mind! She actually went through with a wedding for that childhood friend of hers, Noah, just because of some whimsical promise he made.” “You’re her actual husband!” “You should have been there, Leo. All her friends and family were calling Noah ‘son-in-law.’ He was smiling so hard his face was about to crack. And Valentina? She didn’t say a word. Anyone who didn’t know better would think they were the real couple.” I wasn’t at the wedding, but I knew. After all, I was the one who put the ring on Noah’s hand. Besides, my social media feed had been flooded with them all day. Valentina, who never posted anything, had uploaded seven different stories dedicated to Noah. The funny thing was, when we got married, she’d said our friends list was full of unimportant people, that there was nothing worth posting. So now, everyone who saw their feed thought Noah was her boyfriend, her husband. I let out a soft laugh. “It’s alright, Sam. Don’t be angry.” He grumbled for a while longer before finally calming down, but his tone shifted to confusion. “Leo, how are you not angry at all?” My hand paused. Perhaps the old me would have been furious. I would have caused a scene, maybe even screamed at her, demanding an explanation. But I was leaving now. I was going back to my own time. That era wasn’t like this one, with its advanced technology and peaceful, prosperous society. In my time, many people still starved, still shivered in the cold. I needed to learn as much as I could before I left, to take that knowledge back with me. There was too much to do. I had no time for heartbreak. “Maybe I’m just over it,” I said with a wry chuckle. Then, my voice turned serious. “Sam, let’s meet up tomorrow. I think… I have to go soon.” Sam was my only real friend here, the only person I was reluctant to leave. Before he could answer, a voice came from behind me. It was Valentina, her tone sharp with a rare hint of panic. “Go? Leo, where are you going?” For some reason, hearing those words made Valentina’s heart clench. I didn’t say anything, but Noah, standing beside her, spoke up with a smirk. His eyes were full of mockery, but his voice was pitifully soft. “I knew it. The wedding today must have upset Leo. It’s all my fault. Valentina, you should comfort him. After all, in this world, you’re the only one he can rely on.” He finished with a light cough, pressing a hand to his chest. Valentina immediately rushed to his side, her eyes filled with concern. But Noah’s words had reminded her: Leo didn’t belong to this time. Where could he possibly go without her? At that thought, her expression hardened into one of disgust. “Leo! I told you, I was just helping Noah fulfill a dream! Do you have to be so difficult about it?” She snorted. “You want to go? Fine. Go now. I’d like to see how far you get.” I stood frozen as the wind from the open window chilled me to the bone. Watching them walk upstairs together, a cold smile touched my lips. She said it was to fulfill a dream. Were the red marks on your neck part of his ‘dream’ too, Valentina? Whatever. In three days, I would be free of this place. 2 I was out the door early the next morning. Sam was already waiting for me at the restaurant we’d chosen. I showed our reservation, and the waiter led us to a table by the window. The moment we sat down, Sam grabbed my hand, his voice urgent. “What did you mean on the phone yesterday? About leaving?” I paused, then told him everything. His face crumpled. “Leo, does that mean I’ll never be able to find you again?” I thought for a moment, then remembered the inter-dimensional communicators the System had given me as compensation. I handed one to Sam. I had selfishly asked the System for two, but I suppose the other one was no longer needed. Just as I was lost in thought, a familiar voice cut through the air. Valentina was standing there with Noah, her eyes narrowed at me. “Leo, what are you doing here?” She looked around. “And in my reserved seat, no less.” I blinked. Just then, the waiter hurried over, his face apologetic. “My apologies, sir. It was our mistake. We seem to have mixed up Mr. Noah’s reservation with yours.” Valentina faltered. Noah spoke up, his voice gentle. “Valentina, I just wanted to have a nice meal with you. I didn’t realize it would bother Leo so much that he’d follow us here. Maybe I should just go.” Valentina immediately wrapped an arm around him, shooting me a cold glare. That’s when Sam’s voice cut in, sharp as ice. “Valentina, Leo is leaving for good, and you’re still taking Noah’s side?” Valentina barely glanced at me, her voice indifferent. “Sam, I know you’re Leo’s friend, but we both know where he comes from. Where could he possibly go?” Sam’s chest heaved with anger. He opened his mouth. “Do you have any idea what he—” Before he could finish, I grabbed his hand and shook my head. Valentina’s inquisitive gaze landed on me. “He what?” Noah chimed in, covering his mouth with a delicate hand. “Is Leo going to say he’s returning to his own timeline?” A mocking smile played on his lips. “That’s a fairytale for children, isn’t it? If you have a problem with me, Leo, just say so. I’ll leave.” With tears welling in his eyes, he turned as if to go, but Valentina grabbed him. She pulled him into a fierce hug. “Noah, don’t be silly. As long as I’m here, this is your home. No one can make you leave.” She shot me a threatening look. I had mentioned leaving countless times, and she had always dismissed it as a joke. But one flippant remark from Noah, and she was so distraught she would have torn her own heart out to prove her devotion. A strange, desolate feeling washed over me. My God, Leo. What a pathetic wreck you’ve become. 3 I had to drag Sam out of the restaurant, but he still shot a few last glares at Valentina. “Leo, why didn’t you just tell her the truth?” I gave him a bitter smile. “Even if I did, do you really think she’d believe me?” Sam’s words caught in his throat. It was evening by the time I got home. As I approached the house, I saw workers in the garden, digging up the camellia bushes that were in full bloom. I loved camellias. In my own time, I had planted a whole grove of them outside my home. I had only mentioned them to Valentina once or twice, and she, in an effort to make me feel a sense of belonging, had planted this garden for me with her own hands. But now… One of the workers wiped the sweat from his brow. “Miss Valentina’s orders. Said Mr. Noah likes roses, so she wants all these pulled out to make room for them.” For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I stood there for a long time before finally pushing the door open. It’s for the best, I thought. This isn’t my home, after all. When Valentina saw me, she looked away, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. It was a rare thing for her to offer an explanation. “It’s not really the season for camellias anymore.” It’s not the season for roses either. I set my things down and glanced at the dinner table. My appetite vanished. The table was laden with spicy dishes, every single one of them. She smiled, a hint of pleading in her voice. “See? All your favorites.” But Valentina, you know I have a weak stomach. You know I can’t handle spice. The one who loves spicy food has always been Noah. Still, I thought, this might be our last meal together for the next decade, or perhaps forever. So I sat down and forced a few bites. Just then, her phone rang. She had it on speaker, so I could easily hear the voice on the other end. “Valentina, the power went out at my place. I’m so scared.” Without a second thought, Valentina dropped her chopsticks. “Noah, don’t worry. I’m on my way.” She rushed for the door without another glance at me. As she reached for the handle, I couldn’t stop myself. “Valentina, tomorrow is my birthday. Will you come back?” Her hand froze on the doorknob. She paused, but in the end, she said nothing and left. Five years ago, I had stumbled into this strange, new world. I knew nothing, and it was Valentina who found me, who taught me the rules of this era. I remember my first birthday here. She bought me a huge cake. I had no friends, so she sat beside me, singing the birthday song, trying to create a festive atmosphere. The candlelight in the dim room reflected in her bright, shining eyes. “Leo,” she had said, “happy birthday.” That single glance cost me my heart. This would be my last birthday in this world. I wanted to say a proper goodbye. But Valentina never came. In the dark room, the extinguished candles dripped wax onto the untouched cake. On my phone, a new post from Valentina: a picture of her holding 999 roses, offering them to Noah, who stood beside her in a custom-tailored suit, while she made a public, heartfelt declaration of her love.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393458”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I saved Cole Richardson’s life, and it cost me my sight. He swore to God he would be my eyes for the rest of our days, that he would never leave my side. I followed every one of the doctor’s orders, clinging to the hope of recovery. The day my vision finally returned, I ran home, my heart soaring, ready to share the incredible news. But what I found was Cole tangled up in our bed with his secretary, Kylie. They were locked in a passionate embrace, lost in each other. In the heat of the moment, Cole moaned her name. “Cole,” Kylie whispered breathlessly, “why don’t you just divorce the blind girl? I’m the one who truly loves you, who understands you.” “Just wait a little longer,” he panted. “I need more time.” That night, a blizzard raged outside. I walked out of our home in a thin housecoat, my heart a frozen stone in my chest. I booked a one-way ticket back to Shadowpine Ridge. I would disappear from his life, and he would never find me again. 1 After booking the flight, I had assumed the two lovers inside might have finished their sordid affair. But when I steeled myself and walked back into the house, they had moved their performance from the bedroom to the living room. They were still wrapped around each other, kissing so fiercely the air tasted of sweat and sex. Cole’s lust-filled eyes met mine. For a second, he bit his lip, trying to silence a moan. Kylie, however, decided to play a wicked game, her hands roaming his body, deliberately teasing him. “Relax, Cole,” she purred, her lips brushing against his ear. “Mara’s blind. She can’t see a thing.” She shot me a look of pure contempt. Cole swatted her playfully. “Don’t be naughty. We can’t let her hear anything.” “Oh, but I think this is so much more thrilling,” she giggled. “Oops. I think we’re out of those. We need a new one.” Kylie lifted her head, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. She was reminding him, a wicked smile playing on her lips. He fought to control his breathing as he looked across the room at me, still sitting on the sofa. “Should she get it, or should I?” Kylie provoked, her eyes daring him. After a moment of hesitation, Cole gave in to her whim. “Mara, honey,” he called out, his voice strained. “My throat’s a little sore. Could you grab that box of cold medicine from the coffee table for me?” My face was a pale mask as I stared at him. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes glazed over, his hands clutching Kylie as if he couldn’t bear to let her go for even a second. I dug my nails into my palms, forcing my emotions down. I glanced at the so-called “cold medicine” on the table. It was a box of condoms. Cole was asking me to bring them condoms. My heart felt like it had turned to ash. I played the part of the blind wife, my hands fumbling across the coffee table until I found the box. I walked over to them. “You’ve caught a cold?” I asked, my voice trembling, though I tried to sound as caring as ever. He, of course, didn’t notice. “Is it serious?” “N-no, I’m fine. I’ll just take some medicine and get some sleep.” Kylie’s fingers traced a line down his chest. He shot her a look that was half-warning, half-pleasure, silently begging her to stop before taking the box from my hand. “You should get some rest,” he said to me. “I’ll sleep in the guest room. I don’t want you to catch this.” And with that, Cole swept Kylie into his arms and carried her, light as a feather, toward the guest room. After they were gone, a bitter sting filled my nose, and my eyes burned red. Even though I had already decided to leave him, to let him go, the pain was a physical, tearing thing. He had promised he would never lie to me, never betray me. But he had broken his vow. I picked up my phone and called my mentor. “Elder Maeve,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m ready to come home to the Ridge and take up my duties as your successor.” “Are you certain, Mara?” she asked, her voice rich with the wisdom of years. “Once you return, you can never leave again. You know the Ridge is hidden for a reason. We are a world apart. Can you truly bear to leave Cole?” “I can,” I answered without hesitation. The Elder was silent for a long moment. “Very well. Come home in seven days.” Once, I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him. I had hesitated, torn. Now, he had made the choice for me. I glanced at the closed door of the guest room. The sounds of their panting were a muffled rhythm in the quiet house. “I let my gifts wither for years,” I murmured into the phone. “I have a healer’s knowledge, yet I brought it shame. Now, I am ready to carry the burden, to ease yours.” “Good,” she said, her voice filled with pride. “You are a true daughter of the Ridge. You will not disappoint me. In eight days, we will all be waiting for you at the entrance to the hollow.” “I’ll be there on time.” After a few more words with my mentor, I hung up. Just then, the guest room door opened, and Cole walked out, wearing nothing but a white dress shirt. His neck, his chest… they were covered in scratches and bite marks, souvenirs from Kylie’s passion. He made no effort to hide them. Why would he? I was blind. 2 A wave of revulsion, so powerful it was physical, washed over me. I gagged, doubling over with a dry heave. Seeing my reaction, Cole rushed towards me, his face etched with concern. As he got closer, I was suffocated by the scent of Kylie’s perfume—a custom blend he had commissioned for her, a scent unique in all the world. The nausea intensified. I shoved him away, my body instinctively recoiling from his touch. Still playing my part, I fumbled my way to the bathroom. I collapsed onto the toilet, retching into the bowl. When the spasms subsided, my eyes fell on the wastebasket. Lying on top was a pregnancy test. Two bright red lines. I stared at it for a long time, and it seemed to stare back, mocking my own inadequacy. I don’t know how to describe the feeling that hollowed me out. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. There was only a vast, endless ache. We hadn’t been intimate in the six months since I’d lost my sight. So he had turned to Kylie. And now, she was carrying his child. “Mara, what’s wrong?” Cole’s panicked voice came from behind me. He wrapped his arms around me, his face a mask of alarm. “Are you sick? When you pushed me away just now… my heart just sank.” The hands on my waist were trembling, as if he feared I might disappear at any moment. He held me tighter. One second, you’re with another woman. The next, you’re whispering words of love to me. You’re a hell of an actor, Cole. I pried his hands off me and put some distance between us. “It’s probably just my stomach. I’ve had trouble keeping anything down lately.” I didn’t know when I had learned to lie so easily. I used to hate people like this, and now I had become one of them. But my words seemed to throw Cole into a full-blown panic. The man who was a notorious neat freak didn’t seem to care that I was covered in my own sickness. He pulled me into a fierce hug. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t had time for you. You’ve been eating all alone, not taking care of yourself. It’s all my fault.” He cupped my face, his brow furrowed with genuine-looking pain. He led me back to the bedroom and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. I stopped him, dressing myself. Cole froze, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. It was the first time since we were married that I hadn’t needed his help. His heart, he later told me, skipped a beat. I was already in bed when he carefully tucked the covers around me. “Mara, are you angry with me? Is it because I haven’t been spending enough time with you?” he asked softly. “Tomorrow’s your birthday. I’ll take the whole day off. I’ll spend it all with you, okay?” The man who was a ruthless titan of industry, who made his rivals tremble, could also have this pleading, humble side. I didn’t know if I was lucky or cursed. Drowsiness washed over me. As I was drifting off, Cole must have thought I was asleep. His phone buzzed. He quickly silenced it, then whispered my name twice. When I didn’t stir, he answered. “You’re terrible,” Kylie’s voice purred from the other end. “You ripped my panties. Now, you’re going to get me a new pair. Immediately.” “I’ll be right there,” Cole whispered back. He glanced down at me, stroked my cheek tenderly, then quietly got up and left the room. My hand clenched the bedsheet, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. She had never left. He was keeping her here, in our home. Taunting me with what I couldn’t see. I tried to soothe myself. It’s okay. Just seven more days. Then you’ll be free. You’ll be done with him forever. 3 I woke up the next morning to find Cole already in the kitchen. He had prepared a feast for breakfast—all my favorite pastries and side dishes. He picked one up with his chopsticks and held it to my lips. “Open up, sweetheart. Let me feed you.” Across the table, Kylie pouted, clearly displeased. Right in front of me, Cole pulled out his phone and typed a message to her: I’ll make it up to you later. Don’t cause a scene in front of Mara. I’ll give you anything you want. A triumphant smirk flickered across Kylie’s face. She shot me a disdainful look, then stood and walked away from the table. As she passed Cole, her fingers brushed against his thigh before she sashayed out of the room. I didn’t take the food Cole offered. Instead, I picked up my own chopsticks and, pretending I couldn’t see, chose something else from the table. Cole assumed I was still sulking. After breakfast, he insisted on taking me out. He had chartered a private yacht and invited dozens of our friends for what he called a grand birthday celebration for me. He held my hand tightly the entire time, guiding me, afraid I might fall. He kept bringing up sweet memories from our past, his voice soft with nostalgia. I said nothing, the irony and pain a tangled knot in my gut. I once believed we would grow old together, inseparable. It had all become a joke. Cole craved excitement, the thrill of a young, new body. He had forgotten the vows we made at our wedding. The path onto the yacht was carpeted with vibrant, dew-kissed rose petals. I had always hated roses. Cole knew that. But Kylie loved them. This grand gesture wasn’t for me. So much for a birthday party in my honor. Another lie. “Mara, this is where we had our wedding,” Cole said, his voice thick with emotion. “It was broadcast live around the world, so everyone would know how much Cole Richardson adored you.” As he spoke, a single tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek. He lifted my hand and pressed my fingertips to the wetness. A man must be truly in love to shed a tear so sincerely. If he hadn’t cheated, hadn’t betrayed me, I might have been moved enough to cry with him. He had loved me once. But that was a lifetime ago. Now, his love was split, shared with Kylie. I pulled my hand away, my expression as calm as still water. Cole, lost in his own memories, looked hurt by my lack of response, his eyes falling. But it only lasted a second. His face lit up, a smile spreading across his lips as he looked towards the deck. Kylie was walking towards us, wearing a stunning, provocative dress that Cole had clearly commissioned for her. The dress clung to her curves, making her look both elegant and expensive. Compared to my simple, understated clothes, I was utterly eclipsed. “Happy birthday, Mrs. Richardson,” Kylie said with a radiant smile. She then moved to Cole’s side and, ignoring everyone else, took his hand in hers. “Mr. Richardson,” she announced, “everything is ready. I’ll count to three.” “One!” “Two!” “Three!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393457”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The first thing the Oscar-winning actress Melissa Lindsay did after coming back to life was march into the studio and terminate her contract. “Ms. Lindsay, the Golden Griffin Awards ceremony is just around the corner. Are you absolutely certain you want to invoke the early termination clause now?” “Once you do, the stage name ‘Melissa Lindsay’ will be permanently retired. It will vanish from public record, impossible to trace.” Without a word, Melissa pulled a black card from her purse and paid the exorbitant fee. “I’m certain.” The staffer processed the payment quickly. “The termination is successful. The paperwork will take ten days to finalize.” Ten days. Exactly the day of the Golden Griffin Awards. In her past life, she had loved her husband, Adrian Thorne, to the point of madness. But after a car crash a year later, she had watched, helpless, as he pulled her lead surgeon from her operating room to go save the life of his one true love. Given a second chance, she wanted nothing more to do with him. Leaving the office, Melissa bought a one-way ticket to America, departing in ten days. She wrapped her fur coat tighter around herself and stepped out into the biting wind. Snow swirled against the car window, the cold seeping through the glass. She rubbed her icy fingertips together, her gaze falling on the massive digital billboard in the city square. The woman on the screen was radiant, and the luxury brand ring she wore was deliberately placed on her ring finger. A week ago, that billboard had featured Melissa, the youngest actress to ever win the industry’s highest honor. It was her boss, her husband, Adrian Thorne, the CEO of Zenith Entertainment, who had personally ordered the change. He had replaced her with his beloved, Echo Towne, a social media influencer who had recently gone viral. Melissa’s eyes reddened. She looked away from the screen and opened her phone. Her last post was a photo of her hand intertwined with Adrian’s. The caption read: “To find a single heart, and never be apart.” Adrian had been the first to like it. The comments below were a sea of blessings, all gushing about their fairy-tale romance. “I knew I’d find a picture of Adrian here! His own social media is a ghost town.” “Melissa is a goddess, and Adrian is so handsome! But why is he wearing a full suit on a private island in Fiji? Isn’t he hot?” “You must be a new fan. Eight years ago, the Thorne mansion caught fire. Adrian got out, but when he realized Melissa was still inside, he ran back into the flames to save her. She was unharmed, but he suffered severe burns. He hasn’t worn a short-sleeved shirt since. Always buttons his collar to the top.” “Who doesn’t know what an incredible man Adrian Thorne is? He bought her a two-hundred-million-dollar private island just because she said she gets cold easily. I’d light incense to my ancestors if my husband were half as good…” “Other celebrity couples might fail, but not these two. Adrian is obsessed with his wife.” Reading the comments, a self-mocking smile twisted Melissa’s lips. A man who would never fail? Adrian had been cheating on her for six months. His countless nights of “working late” were all spent with Echo Towne. And she, like a fool, had believed he was working hard for their home, for their future together. Melissa’s finger paused. She scrolled past the comments, her eyes landing on the last post Adrian had liked. He would have no idea that the famous line she’d quoted was only half of the original verse. The forgotten first line was: I heard you have a divided heart, so I have come to break things off. Lost in thought, the car pulled up to their villa. The snow was coming down hard. Even with the butler holding an umbrella, flakes drifted onto Adrian’s dark eyelashes. The dusting of white couldn’t hide the smile in his eyes. “Melissa, you’re home.” He reached out to take her hand, to warm it between his. But her eyes caught sight of a woman’s hair tie on his wrist—one that wasn’t hers. A chill seeped into her heart. Before she could pull away, his hands were already covering hers, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I’ve decorated the house. Come see if you like it.” He opened the door to a scene of soft, ambient lighting and the romantic scent of candles. Melissa walked to the dining table. Instead of her usual red wine, she asked the butler for a glass of sparkling water. Adrian looked puzzled. “A sudden change of taste?” Melissa lowered her eyes, her gaze briefly flickering towards her stomach before she looked up again. “Nothing. Just wanted to try something new.” Suddenly, Adrian’s phone buzzed. He glanced at Melissa, then quickly declined the call. But the phone immediately began vibrating again, insistent. He shot another look at Melissa before finally answering. His face changed. “I’m so sorry, Melissa,” he said, his voice laced with apology. “It’s an emergency at the office.” Melissa took a sip of the sparkling water. It tasted of nothing but bitterness. “It’s fine. You go handle it.” Adrian leaned in and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “I’ll finish up as quickly as I can.” Melissa’s eyelashes fluttered. She watched him walk into his study. Some emergency. In her past life, she had caught a glimpse of his phone. It was a photo from Echo Towne, posing in a nurse’s uniform. 2 Melissa silently opened her phone and tuned into Echo Towne’s live stream. A comment flashed across the screen: “It’s been ages and he hasn’t called. Is your boyfriend with someone else?” Echo Towne touched up her lipstick, then stood to show off the curves accentuated by the tight nurse’s uniform. A sly smile played on her lips. “He’s probably just held up by some stray dog on the road. What can I do? He has such a big heart.” A moment later, an account named “For_Towne” flooded the chat with 100 “virtual castles.” The user sent a message: “Baby, don’t wear that on stream.” The word “baby” felt like a boulder crushing Melissa’s chest, making it hard to breathe. Echo Towne’s eyes lit up with delight, and she pouted playfully. “I just wanted to make you jealous.” “Besides, you didn’t even spend Valentine’s Day with me. Can’t I have a little bit of revenge?” Adrian said nothing more. Instead, he gifted her 9,999 of the stream’s most expensive gift: the “Cosmic Heart.” Then another message: “One more gift. Look outside your window.” A series of loud booms echoed through the night. The sky outside Echo Towne’s window erupted in a dazzling display of fireworks. Her delighted smile was one of a person who is so thoroughly cherished, they fear nothing. “Well, viewers,” she cooed, “it seems my boyfriend is a little possessive. I have to go for now.” Meanwhile, in the dining room, the steak on the table grew cold. The scented candles had burned down to stubs. As Melissa swallowed the last of her sparkling water, Adrian finally emerged from his study. “That was Director Evans. I’ve secured the role for you in his new film. You’re the lead.” Director Evans was a legend, having won numerous international awards at a young age. A role in his film was a near-guaranteed path to an award. If she hadn’t just watched the live stream, Melissa might have actually believed him. She was silent for a moment before replying. “Most of Evans’s films are art-house pictures. They often have nude scenes. You don’t mind?” Adrian was taken aback. “Why would I be so petty?” Because all of your possessiveness is reserved for Echo Towne, she thought. The end of love always begins with the end of jealousy. Melissa lowered her gaze to hide her expression. “Tell him I’m passing. I want to take a break for a while.” Adrian’s response was gentle. “Alright. I’ll look for another one for you.” There would be no next time. In ten days, she would be gone forever. That night, Adrian held her as he always did, his body warming her cold hands and feet. The image of the billboard flashed in her mind again. Melissa feigned casualness. “Echo Towne has only had a couple of cameo roles. She’s not even a proper actress yet. How is she landing so many major endorsements?” Adrian’s body tensed for a second. “I imagine her boyfriend is backing her.” The words “her boyfriend” were a sharp, physical pain in Melissa’s heart. She tightened her grip on the corner of the duvet, her voice strained. “Is it really a good idea for Zenith to sign her? What if she wants to get married, or pregnant? Can she afford the contract termination fee?” Without a moment’s hesitation, Adrian replied, “Her boyfriend loves her so much, he would definitely pay the fee for her. He’d marry her in a heartbeat.” Perhaps realizing how final his words sounded, he paused, then added, “I’ve met him.” So that was it. That was his real plan. All Echo Towne had to do was say the word, and he would abandon everything to be with her. What did that make their past? A ten-year dream? Melissa said nothing more. Tears welled in her eyes, silently tracing paths down her temples in the darkness. Once Adrian’s breathing became deep and even, Melissa slipped out of his embrace and went to the study. The moonlight cast a lonely glow on her frail figure. She looked at a photo of them from college on the desk and smiled a bitter, self-deprecating smile, tears once again blurring her vision. Since she was a child, her goal had been singular: to become the most famous actress in the country. She had to be beautiful, talented, and in perfect shape. No scandals, no boyfriends. For eighteen years, she had been ruthlessly disciplined, believing she would dedicate her life to her art. But for Adrian, she had broken all her own rules. The day they got together, he had told her, “Melissa, I’ll never make you regret this. I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.” It turned out that promise had a ten-year expiration date. Pulling her gaze away, Melissa took out the divorce agreement she had prepared and signed her name with slow, deliberate strokes. Adrian, she thought, if you knew that in ten days, you would never be able to find me again, would you feel even a flicker of regret? 3 The next morning, Melissa went to the most exclusive private hospital in the city. Adrian called her. “The driver said you went to the hospital. Are you not feeling well?” “It’s nothing… just an irregular cycle. It’s an old problem.” As she spoke, Melissa closed her eyes, tore the paper in her hand to shreds, and dropped it into the trash can. As the pieces fluttered down, the red letters on one fragment stood out starkly. [PREGNANCY CONFIRMED] After hanging up, Melissa’s hand instinctively went to her abdomen. Memories flooded back. When they were young and struggling, Adrian had acted as her agent, drinking with investors until he was vomiting blood, all to secure her a role with ten minutes of screen time. Melissa had soaked in freezing water for three days straight on that set, her body aching with cold, refusing to give up the opportunity he had fought so hard for. That night, in their tiny, cramped apartment, Adrian had shaken her awake, his face filled with panic. “Melissa, you’re bleeding.” She had faced down demanding investors and the fury of her own family, but she had never seen that look of terror on his face before. She had believed that as long as they loved each other, they were invincible. But the doctor had told them the baby had already started to form. It was their own neglect that had cost them their child. The tears had fallen instantly. Adrian had held her, his voice choked with sobs. “I’m sorry, Melissa. It’s all my fault.” “I promise it will never happen again.” The second time she got pregnant, she had shared the good news with him, only to be met with two cold, emotionless words. “Get rid of it.” Perhaps sensing his own cruelty, he had added, “Melissa, you’re at the peak of your career right now. We can have one next time.” But “next time” never came. “Ms. Lindsay, are you sure you want to terminate?” The doctor’s voice pulled Melissa back to the present. He held the test results, his brow furrowed. “The fetus is developing perfectly. But your body is very weak. If you go through with this, you may never be able to conceive again.” Melissa’s heart trembled. In her past life, when Adrian had brought her here, he had told her the fetus wasn’t healthy. The doctor had recommended the procedure. From that day until the day she died, she had never gotten pregnant again. The lack of a child had become the greatest regret of her life. She lowered her gaze, her hand gently resting on her still-flat stomach. She could feel it. A life was growing there. Heaven had given her a second chance, and with it, this child. This time, she wouldn’t let go. She wanted this child to see the world. The snow outside had stopped. Sunlight filtered through the clouds, but it did nothing to warm the desolation in her eyes. “Thank you, Doctor. I’m keeping it.” America, she thought. There must be plenty of single mothers there. The next day at the office, her agent, Carla, rushed over with a contract, her face beaming. “Melissa, Adrian got us the endorsement for Olympia Sportswear!” Olympia was a high-end athletic brand. Their commercials always involved intense physical activity. Melissa’s face paled. She walked straight to the top floor, to Adrian’s office. She stopped at the door. Echo Towne was just coming out. “Melissa,” she cooed softly. On her neck were a series of small, red marks. “Melissa, what are you doing here?” Adrian looked flustered. He buttoned his collar, his voice holding a hint of reproach. Melissa’s breath caught. She walked past Echo Towne and into the office. “Turn down the Olympia endorsement. I’m not taking any new jobs for a while.” Adrian frowned. Melissa was a notorious workaholic. Even when she was “resting,” she only stopped making films, not other work. A thought struck him. He stared at her intently. “Melissa, are you sure it’s just an irregular cycle?” “Are you hiding something else from me?” Melissa froze. She opened her mouth, but managed to keep her voice steady. “It’s just an irregular cycle.” Adrian’s brow finally relaxed. He took her hand. “You should stop taking those birth control pills. Let your body recover.” “If you get pregnant, we’ll have it. I’ll take good care of you both.” Melissa nodded silently. He had said the same thing in her past life. But when she had actually gotten pregnant, he had dragged her to the hospital without a second thought. Adrian, do you have any idea? Last year alone, I took eleven bottles of birth control pills for you. You were the one who made me kill our child. You don’t deserve to be a father. 4 Just then, there was a knock on the door. Echo Towne’s agent came in with a folder, looking rushed. “Mr. Thorne, Echo Towne’s schedule needs your signature.” Melissa spoke up. “You handle your work. I’m going home.” Halfway out of the building, she realized her left earring was gone. She retraced her steps, and as she neared the CEO’s office, she heard Adrian’s impatient voice from within. “I told you, don’t come to me when Melissa is here.” Echo Towne was sitting on his lap, purring. “Adrian, don’t be so mean to me. She’s the one who ruined our fun.” She took his hand and placed it on her waist, her voice seductive. “I wore this especially for you. Don’t you want to see?” Adrian hesitated for a fraction of a second, then pulled her closer, his mouth crushing hers. The sounds of their passion seeped through the heavy wooden door. The cold of the metal doorknob traveled up Melissa’s arm and into her heart. Even though she was long past disappointed in him, hearing them together was still like a knife to the gut. Her fingers turned white as she pulled out her phone and dialed his number. The phone inside the office rang for half a second before it was silenced. No hesitation. A cold numbness spread through Melissa. She turned and walked away. Two hours later, he called back. “I was in a meeting. What’s up?” By then, Melissa had composed herself. Listening to his lie was just another bitter irony. “Nothing. I dropped an earring, but I found it.” Adrian, she thought, with an acting performance like that, you’re the one who deserves the award. Two days later, at the five-star hotel for a family dinner. Melissa reached for a piece of fish, but Adrian’s mother spun the lazy Susan away from her. “After all this time, still haven’t produced a single child. Even a dog would have had a litter in ten years.” Melissa’s silence only further enraged Adrian’s father. His disdain was palpable. “Do you know what they used to call people like you in the old days? Performers! Toys to keep people entertained. I don’t know why anyone bothers with you.” “Your priority now should be quitting your job and giving the Thorne family an heir!” Melissa finally spoke. “I understand. I will retire.” Not just retire, she thought. In five days, I’ll be gone, with my baby. Adrian squeezed her hand under the table. “Dad, Mom, don’t give Melissa a hard time. We’ll handle the matter of children ourselves.” As they were speaking, there was a knock on the door of the private room. Echo Towne appeared, holding a bottle of expensive ginseng wine, a brilliant smile on her face. “Mr. Thorne, I heard your voice and had to come say hello. This is for you.” Though she was polite, after giving him the wine, she made no move to leave. She poured herself a cup of tea from the table. “Mr. and Mrs. Thorne,” she said sweetly, “I feel such a connection to you both. If you don’t mind, I’d love to be your goddaughter!” “My sister, Melissa, is so busy. Unlike me. All I want to do is spend time with you.” Adrian’s eyes turned cold. He was about to speak when his father cut him off with a laugh. “If only I had a daughter-in-law as thoughtful as you! Unlike some people, who can’t even read a room!” His mother looked equally pleased and gestured to the empty seat beside her. “Such a good girl. Come, sit with us.” In ten years of marriage, Adrian’s parents had never once let her sit beside them. Adrian’s expression grew colder. He looked at Echo Towne. “This is a family dinner. You shouldn’t be sitting there.” Tears instantly welled in Echo Towne’s eyes. She shot a resentful glare at Melissa, then stood and left. Adrian’s expression shifted. He started to rise, but then he looked back at Melissa, who was still silently eating her food. He sat back down, his mind clearly elsewhere. His mother’s passive-aggressive comments and his father’s accusations rained down on Melissa once more. She finally stood up. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head home. You all enjoy.” She left so quickly that Adrian didn’t have time to see the look on her face. It wasn’t until she had locked herself in a bathroom stall that her strength gave out. She sank to the floor, and the tears she had been holding back finally broke free. She dug her nails into her palms, telling herself: Don’t listen. Don’t look. Don’t care. The doctor said emotional turmoil will affect the baby. The Thornes don’t need me. The baby is my only family now. Suddenly, a notification popped up on her phone. Echo Towne had posted a photo from the dinner, and she had tagged Melissa. The caption read: “Having dinner with my boyfriend’s family and ran into my big sister, Melissa! What a coincidence.” Even though no faces were fully visible, Melissa instantly recognized the Thorne family. 5 A comment was immediately pushed to the top. [TowneTowne, you and your boyfriend have to last forever!] The nausea that had just subsided came rushing back. Her eyes red, she forced herself to read through the comments, one by one. Among the sea of well-wishes, an account named “For_Towne” had replied with two simple words: We will. It was the same account Adrian used to send gifts to Echo Towne’s live stream. The blood drained from Melissa’s face. She took several deep breaths before her trembling hand tapped on the profile. It was blank. He had set it to private. Melissa stared at the screen for a long time before a bitter, self-mocking laugh escaped her lips. A moment later, tears fell like broken pearls, rolling past the corners of her forced smile and splashing onto the floor. Adrian called. “You said you weren’t feeling well. Are you better now?” Melissa wiped her tears, forcing her voice to be steady. “I’m fine now.” Adrian’s brow remained furrowed. “I’m on my way back…” Just then, Echo Towne, who had just finished pouring tea for his parents, saw Melissa’s name on his phone screen. She bit her lip, then slipped off her shoe. Her foot, clad in black silk, deliberately brushed against Adrian’s thigh under the table. Adrian’s breathing hitched. “Something came up at the office,” he said into the phone. “If you’re really not well, go to the hospital.” He hung up. The city lights shone through the window, illuminating Melissa’s face. The winter night was alive with a million lights, but none of them were for her. On the way home, the driver noticed her pale face. “Mrs. Thorne, you look terribly unwell. Should we go to the hospital?” Melissa gently shook her head. The driver said no more, delivering her home in silence. As she was about to open the car door, her wedding ring slipped from her finger and fell onto the floor mat. Melissa froze. Have I lost that much weight in just a few days? The driver offered to help her find it, but she refused. She fumbled in the dark for a long time before she finally found it. But as she held the ring, she hesitated to put it back on. After a long moment, she opened the glove compartment. “Things that don’t belong to me shouldn’t be taken by me.” With a soft click, the compartment opened, revealing dozens of condoms. In an instant, all the air was sucked out of the car. She had never been with Adrian in the car. Melissa’s chest heaved. Her hand recoiled as if from an electric shock. She scrambled to open the door. But just as she stepped out, some strange impulse made her pause. She took a photo, then slammed the glove compartment shut and got out of the car. That night, Melissa’s sleep was fitful. A wave of nausea washed over her. She mumbled, reaching for the space beside her. “Adrian…” The cold, empty sheets brought her instantly awake. She threw on a robe and let out a bitter laugh. The habits of the body are a terrifying thing. Adrian didn’t come home until noon the next day. The sun was melting the snow, making the air feel even colder. As soon as he stepped into the living room, Melissa caught the scent of gardenia perfume—Echo Towne’s signature scent—clinging to him. Melissa froze, looking at him. “Last night…” Adrian met her gaze, and for a split second, his heart seemed to stop. He pulled her into an embrace. “What’s wrong?” The scent of gardenia was overwhelming now. It was like a slow-acting poison, seeping into her organs. Melissa stared at him, searching his face for any sign of a lie. But his eyes were filled with nothing but soft, starlit affection. It turned out that even a look like that could be a lie. She stepped out of his embrace, changing the subject. “Nothing. I just didn’t sleep well.” After dinner, Adrian took Melissa for a fitting for her red carpet gown. The Golden Griffin Awards were approaching, and every celebrity was pulling out all the stops to make a statement. Melissa looked at the gown sent over by Venus, the designer they had worked with for years, and felt a pang of nostalgia. For ten years, she and Adrian had worn matching Venus ensembles. They were always a pair. Now, this would be the last time. Suddenly, Echo Towne’s triumphant voice cut through the air. “Melissa, do you like my gown that much?” 6 Melissa’s eyes widened in disbelief. She turned to Adrian. In her past life, this was her gown! She and Adrian were the official faces of Venus in their country. The gowns were always custom-made to their measurements. Adrian frowned. “What are you talking about?” Echo Towne looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “But you said I could choose any gown I wanted this time.” “Besides,” she added, placing a hand on her stomach, “I’m pregnant. If I don’t wear it now, I won’t get another chance.” The words struck Melissa like a bolt of lightning. She froze. No wonder he had insisted she get an abortion in her past life. She had actually believed it was for her career. It turned out he just didn’t want her child getting in the way of Echo Towne’s. Adrian’s expression shifted. He turned to Melissa. “Melissa, just pick another one.” In the past, Melissa would have fought for the dress. But this time, it suddenly didn’t seem so important. She knew Adrian would arrange for another, equally beautiful gown. But she had never wanted his guilt or his compensation. She had wanted his devotion. To be his one and only. Melissa forced a smile. “Fine. A brand that can’t make up its mind isn’t worth my time anyway.” She was talking about the brand, Venus, but Adrian’s heart felt strangely heavy. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washed over her. The last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was Adrian’s panicked face. When she woke up, she was in the hospital. Adrian’s face was a complex mask of emotions. “…Melissa, you’re pregnant?” It wasn’t a joyful exclamation. It was a question. An accusation. Melissa didn’t know what hurt more, her swollen ankle from the fall, or her heart. Her eyelashes trembled. A bitter smile touched her lips. “You think this baby came at a bad time, don’t you?” Seeing his silence, the bitterness in her heart deepened. She closed her eyes, her voice flat, almost hopeless. “Then let’s get rid of it.” No arguments. No resistance. The lesson from her past life was enough to keep her silent. This child, she was destined to lose. A flicker of guilt crossed Adrian’s face. He seemed to remember something, and let out a long sigh. “Keep it.” Melissa’s eyes snapped open. The dead ashes in her soul were suddenly rekindled with a tiny spark of hope. Adrian squeezed her hand. “What parent wouldn’t want to keep their child?” A lump formed in Melissa’s throat. She nearly burst into tears. What parent wouldn’t want their child? What couple would keep up an act for ten years? But Adrian, why did it have to be you? Adrian went to buy her dinner. Echo Towne came in, carrying a fruit basket. “Congratulations, Melissa!” The words were celebratory, but there was no smile in her eyes. Instead, they glinted with a cold, venomous light. She looked around, and seeing that Adrian was gone, her smile vanished. “You know, don’t you? My boyfriend is Adrian.” “Melissa, you’re so pathetic. Only a woman who can’t win her husband’s love would use a child to tie him down.” Melissa looked her straight in the eye. “Are you talking about yourself, Echo Towne?” “No matter how many people envy you on your live stream, you’ll never be anything more than a mistress who can’t be seen in public.” Echo Towne was stunned. The few times she had seen Melissa, she had been so quiet and submissive, it had given Echo Towne the mistaken impression that she was a pushover. She dug her nails into her palms, her face twisting with rage. Just then, the sound of Adrian’s footsteps approached. “Melissa, I bought you some porridge. It’s easy to digest.” A vicious glint appeared in Echo Towne’s eyes. She grabbed Melissa by the collar. A powerful force pulled Melissa forward, and they both crashed to the floor. Echo Towne’s venomous words wrapped around Melissa’s ear. “Let’s see who he chooses. You, or me?” 7 A cry of alarm rang out. Adrian quickened his pace, bursting through the door. Echo Towne was already sobbing, a tragic heroine. “I brought a fruit basket to see Melissa, but she started screaming at me, accusing me of seducing you and stealing her gown.” “I didn’t…” Before Melissa could finish, Echo Towne shrieked. “Blood! Adrian, my stomach hurts so much! The baby…” Her cries immediately captured Adrian’s full attention. He shot a cold, dagger-like glare at Melissa, then scooped Echo Towne into his arms and rushed away. Watching them go, the last vestiges of warmth left Melissa’s body. A sharp, cramping pain seized her abdomen. A warm liquid trickled down her legs. Melissa forced herself to her feet and called for a nurse. She was wheeled into the hallway, where she heard another nurse speaking in a troubled voice. “Dr. Campbell is the only one on duty in Obstetrics right now, but the patient from the VIP room, Ms. Lindsay, is also showing signs of a miscarriage.” Adrian froze. He was about to speak when Echo Towne looked up, her eyes brimming with pitiful tears. “I’m fine. Let Melissa go first. An A-list star like her, taking out her temper on a small-time influencer like me… I’m used to it.” Feeling the life of her own child slipping away, Melissa’s vision turned red. She grabbed the nurse’s arm, her voice a desperate plea. “Please, save my baby!” At her words, Adrian’s face twisted in disgust. “Her child isn’t important. Save Echo Towne’s.” The nurses quickly wheeled Echo Towne into the operating room. The hospital’s smell of antiseptic and blood filled Melissa’s lungs, stinging her nose. By the time it was her turn, Dr. Campbell sighed deeply. “If you had come in ten minutes earlier, we could have saved it. It’s too late.” An icy chill crept up Melissa’s spine, freezing her heart. Her baby… was gone, just like that? Her body trembling, Melissa placed a hand on her stomach. Tears she had held back for so long finally fell, tracing paths down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, my baby. I couldn’t protect you this time, either.” As the anesthesia wore off, a bone-deep pain wracked her body, but it was nothing compared to the agony in her heart. That was her flesh and blood, a part of her body. She had never even had the chance to let her baby see the world. In a daze, Melissa was wheeled out of the operating room. Adrian was still holding Echo Towne. Echo Towne looked at him with tear-filled eyes. “Adrian, can you stay with me tonight?” Her voice was choked with sobs, but the look she shot at Melissa was one of pure, triumphant provocation. Adrian was silent for a moment, then his voice was gentle. “Okay.” Seeing Melissa, he made no move to let Echo Towne go. A fire of anger burned in his eyes. “Apologize to Towne.” The storm of emotions churning inside Melissa suddenly ceased. With the death of her child, a part of her had died, too. “I was wrong. You go take care of her. I’m going home.” Adrian was stunned. He saw that the light in Melissa’s eyes had been extinguished, leaving nothing but dead, gray ash. His throat worked, and he was about to say something, but a doctor called him over to pay the bill. When he looked back, Melissa was gone. On the way home, Melissa’s grief fermented in her heart, turning to a bitter hatred. She hated her own weakness, her inability to let go, which had cost her another child. If she had just left earlier, would her baby have been saved? Suddenly, a message popped up on her phone. It was from Echo Towne. She had sent a username and password. “Log in. You’ll see a surprise.” With fingers as white as bone, Melissa logged into Adrian’s secret account: For_Towne. The latest post was a photo of Echo Towne’s flat stomach. The caption read: “Towne is pregnant. Today is the happiest day of my life.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393456”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel