• The $1.5 Lemonade That Cost Him Everything

    Chapter 1 After we got engaged, my fiancé, Daniel, handed me a black card and told me to buy whatever I wanted. I bought a dollar-fifty lemonade. He blew up at me on the spot. “Charlotte, for God’s sake, the Kane family needs a matriarch who can command a room, not some country bumpkin who’s afraid to spend money.” “Everything you do reflects on us now. I can’t afford the embarrassment.” I broke off the engagement. He turned around and proposed to Ava, a student from a low-income family that he was sponsoring. Five years later, we ran into each other at a kindergarten drop-off. Daniel stepped out of a Maybach, holding hands with a beaming Ava. When he saw me and my son buying a popsicle from a street vendor, he stormed over, his voice a furious roar. “Charlotte! You’re letting my son eat that garbage? Can’t you ever shake off that cheap, backwater trash you came from?” I frowned. “He’s not your son.” He squinted, studying the boy, then let out a derisive snort. “He’s that handsome. How could he not be mine?” I didn’t bother to explain. My son has his father’s eyes and nose, but the rest of him is all me. What does that have to do with Daniel Kane? … At pickup time, Daniel’s black Maybach was parked ostentatiously at the school gate, drawing a crowd of curious parents. “Look! Isn’t that Daniel Kane, the CEO of Oakhaven Group?” “Oh my god, his kid goes here?” “No way, this is just a regular public kindergarten. Someone at his level wouldn’t…” Daniel’s brow furrowed in annoyance, and he started to turn back to the car. Ava quickly stepped in, her voice soft and placating. “Excuse me, everyone, could you please give us some space? My fiancé is a little particular about his personal space and isn’t used to crowds. Thank you.” She offered a gentle smile. “We’re just here to pick up my nephew. I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. We’re not married yet.” Daniel leaned in, his voice low and meant only for her. “Get the kid and let’s go. We have that meeting with the Ashtons later.” In the high-stakes world of New York’s elite, paying respects to the formidable Ashton family was a mandatory rite of passage. No one dared to be late. Ava nodded obediently. “Of course, darling. I know how many strings you had to pull to get a meeting with Mr. Ashton. I won’t let anything get in the way.” She paused, her voice laced with curiosity. “I hear Mr. Ashton is devoted to his wife and kids, keeps them completely out of the spotlight. I wonder who Mrs. Ashton is?” Daniel ignored her, leaning against the car door with his hands in his pockets, the picture of arrogant nonchalance. He looked exactly the same as the day he’d cast me aside. I remembered it clearly. The words “I’m breaking up with you” had barely left my lips before he was down on one knee, proposing to Ava. I hadn’t even made it out the door before they were locked in a passionate kiss. For the longest time, I couldn’t understand it. Four years together, from college sweethearts to fiancés. How could he end it so cleanly, so cruelly? It wasn’t until Ava sent me that text message later that I finally understood. My four years with him had been nothing but a joke. “Mommy, I want a popsicle!” My son’s tug on my sleeve snapped me back to the present. The vendor was glaring at me impatiently. “Are you buying this or not? If not, give it back!” I looked down and saw that the popsicle in my hand had already started to melt. “I’m so sorry. I’ll take this one. Can I have another one, please? I’ll pay for both.” His face contorted in a sudden rage. “Who do you think you’re looking down on? You think I need your charity? Take your damn melted popsicle and get lost! Don’t bring your bad luck around here!” His aggressive tone made my son burst into tears. Every head turned in our direction. Daniel glanced over, his sharp, dark eyes meeting mine. For a split second, something flickered in their depths. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. He looked away, as if he hadn’t seen me at all. My son clung to my leg, sobbing uncontrollably. I had no choice but to hand him the melting popsicle. “Just a little taste, okay?” Just as he was about to lick it, Daniel spun around. He stared at us, his chest heaving as if he could no longer contain himself. He strode over and slapped the popsicle out of my son’s hand. “Charlotte, you’re feeding my son this garbage?!” he snarled, wiping his fingers with a silk handkerchief as if he’d touched something vile. “You’ll never get rid of that cheap trashiness that’s in your bones!” My son’s cries escalated into terrified wails. I knelt and pulled him into my arms, trying to soothe him. Daniel’s hand hesitated in mid-air, then retracted sharply. His voice, when he spoke again, was softer. “Why… why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” Chapter 2 I froze. For a moment, I thought I’d misheard his furious roar. Now I understood. He actually thought Leo was his child. In his eyes, was I really that pathetic? The kind of woman who would secretly have his child and raise it on her own? “You’re mistaken. He’s not your son.” “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m not really in the mood for a reunion.” My husband would be here any minute, and if he saw this scene, that jealous man would find some way to “punish” me later. But Daniel didn’t move. He just stood there, squinting at my son. Ava clung to his arm. “Daniel, darling, don’t scare the little one. You’ll upset Charlotte.” “This child looks like he’s barely three. He can’t be yours.” She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “If you really want a child, we could get married and have one of our own…” Daniel cut her off, his voice firm. “He is my son. That handsome, who else could he belong to?” He was certainly confident. Leo has his father’s eyes and nose. The rest is all me. Even if he is handsome, it’s thanks to me and his father. What does that have to do with Daniel Kane? The crowd of onlookers was growing, their whispers like a swarm of bees. “Could he be Mr. Kane’s illegitimate son?” “The mistress and the fiancée, face to face. This is going to be good.” “I’ll give her one thing, though. She’s got guts, raising the kid on her own all this time without asking him for a dime.” Their speculation, so sure and confident, was making Ava’s face paler by the second. She shot me a wary look, but her voice was deliberately soft. “Charlotte, we’re getting married soon.” “Even if… even if this is Daniel’s child, please, continue to raise him yourself. Don’t disturb us.” “We’ve been through so much to get to this point. I don’t want some random child to ruin everything.” She leaned her head on Daniel’s shoulder, the picture of vulnerability. “Darling, maybe we should just give her some money for child support? I really don’t want to be a stepmother.” Daniel’s eyes were fixed on me, his voice tight with suppressed anger. “My son is over four years old, and you’ve let him get so small and skinny. He’s obviously malnourished!” “If you didn’t have money to raise him, why didn’t you come to me? Doesn’t it kill you to see your own flesh and blood like this?” I almost laughed out loud. Leo was just over three, and he was perfectly healthy for his age. How did he become malnourished in Daniel’s eyes? “I’ll say it again. He is not your son.” “He was born in May. He just turned three. This is a normal size for a preschooler.” Daniel’s brow furrowed. He pulled out his phone. “Give me your number. I’ll transfer the child support right now. And I’ll need a way to contact you when I want to see my son.” “That won’t be necessary,” I said, my voice flat. I was done with this conversation. But his tone turned cold. “The child isn’t just yours. I want to be a father to him. Are you denying me that right?” I sighed in frustration. “Are you ever going to stop? We broke up five years ago. What’s the point of all this?” Daniel seemed taken aback for a moment, then gave a condescending smile. “Charlotte, I think you’re getting the wrong idea. I just don’t want the Kane bloodline to suffer with you. This has nothing to do with any lingering feelings I might have for you.” “Don’t worry, even if I have your number, I’ll only contact you about our son. I wouldn’t want Ava to get the wrong idea.” His gaze shifted between me and Leo, a complex emotion clouding his eyes. “Or is it that you’ve hated me all these years? Are you trying to get back at me by neglecting our child? Trying to make me regret breaking up with you… trying to win me back?” I quickly shook my head. “I love Leo more than anything, and I don’t—” “Charlotte!” he cut me off, rubbing his temples wearily. “Stop pretending. I admit, the breakup was sudden. It was hard for you to accept.” “But I love Ava… If I had known you were pregnant, I would have told you to get rid of it. We wouldn’t be in this embarrassing situation now.” I froze. There it was. He’d finally said it. Even if I had been pregnant with his child, it would have been nothing but a burden to him, an embarrassment, something to make Ava uncomfortable. He didn’t have to tell me. If I had been pregnant back then, I wouldn’t have kept it. A man whose heart belonged to someone else… why on earth would I have a child with him? After a moment of silence, I decided to end this once and for all. I pulled out my phone. “He’s really not your son. I’m married. My husband is wonderful to me… Do you want to see our marriage certificate?” That should convince him, right? As I was about to unlock my phone, he clamped his hand over mine. “Photos can be faked.” “Since you’re so determined to hide the truth, you’ve probably covered all your bases.” I was speechless. “Think whatever you want.” The murmurs from the crowd grew louder. I picked up my son and turned to leave. Leo was too young to be exposed to this kind of ugliness. But Daniel suddenly grabbed my wrist, his eyes on my son filled with a raw emotion. “Leo,” he said, his voice thick. “Say, ‘Daddy’.” Chapter 3 I was completely dumbfounded. Leo blinked his big eyes and shyly said, “Mister.” Daniel’s eyes instantly reddened. He looked at me, his voice trembling with heartbreak. “Charlotte, you never even told him about me?” “How could you be so cruel? Other children have fathers to grow up with, but my son, Daniel Kane’s son, has to suffer like this?” I had lost all patience. “Are you ever going to shut up? Let go of me!” But his grip only tightened. After a long silence, he sighed. “For our son’s sake… I’ll give in. Charlotte, you can come back.” I was confused. “What?” A corner of his mouth twitched. “Come back to me. Are you satisfied now?” “Daniel!” Ava cried, looking at him with wounded eyes. “What about me?” Daniel’s gaze flickered. “Ava, she’ll just be a nanny for the child.” “My feelings for you won’t change. It’s just… I can’t abandon my son.” Ava shot me a venomous glare, tears springing to her eyes. “I don’t want her! This woman is using this cheap trick to cling to you! She’s just playing hard to get! She never got over you!” Daniel soothed her, but his eyes on me were cold as ice. “I know.” “Don’t worry. Even if she begs me on her knees, I won’t be moved. You know what she’s like. With her background and her narrow worldview, how could she ever be worthy of me?” The popsicle vendor snorted. “I thought she was some gold digger. Turns out she’s just a desperate mistress!” The crowd immediately chimed in. “She acts so high and mighty, but she’s just a manipulative witch!” “No wonder the kid is so timid.” “Didn’t you hear Mr. Kane? She’s from the countryside. Trash is as trash does.” So what if I’m from the countryside? I worked my way up to become an investment consultant, handling multi-million dollar projects. But in his eyes, I would always be branded as “cheap.” I love street food, early morning hikes, devouring half a watermelon on a hot summer day… When we were together, he dismissed all these simple pleasures as “lacking class.” And Ava? As the “poor student” he sponsored, she used his money to buy luxury goods. Did he ever call her a gold digger? In the end, it was simple. He just didn’t love me. I wrenched my hand away, my face a cold mask. “Daniel, if you don’t stop this, I’m calling the police!” Ava threw her arms around his waist. “Darling, she’s poor and stubborn. She’s taking your kindness as an insult. Let’s just leave her alone.” But Daniel didn’t budge. Instead, he sneered. “The police? Go ahead. With the Kane family’s resources, I’ll get custody of the child, one hundred percent.” “You have two choices: give me your contact information and accept child support, or come home with me and our son right now… as his nanny.” I was so angry I could have screamed. I picked up my son and started to walk away. Daniel’s face darkened. He lunged forward and snatched Leo from my arms. “Since you’re so ungrateful, I’ll raise the child myself!” He held the struggling boy tightly. “If you want to see him, you can come find me at my new place on the coast. I just moved to the city.” Before I could react, Daniel was striding towards the Maybach with my son. Ava trotted behind him, muttering, “Darling, I thought we were here to pick up my nephew.” Suddenly, my son started screaming, reaching for me with his small hands. “Mommy! Bad man! I’m scared…” I ran after them, a wild panic seizing me, but the crowd blocked my way. “The kid will have a great life with Mr. Kane! What are you so hysterical about?” “No wonder Mr. Kane couldn’t stand her. No class at all. Not even thinking about what’s best for the child!” As I watched Daniel open the car door, a desperate sob escaped my lips. “Daniel! Please, give me back my son!” I fumbled for my phone, my hands shaking. “I’m not a mistress! My husband is the head of the Ashton family… Leo is our eldest son! We have a daughter too! I have a family photo on my phone, look!” The crowd erupted in derisive laughter. “The Ashtons? The family that could bankrupt a company with a single word?” “If Mr. Ashton was your husband, would your kid be in this kindergarten? You might as well say you’re the First Lady!” They all mocked me. No one believed me. A chilling cold spread through my body, but I couldn’t just stand by and watch my son be taken away. I screamed, my voice raw with desperation, “Daniel! I’ll go back with you!”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “401588”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • I Broke His Heart. He Came Back to Break Mine.

    Since I was sixteen, I had one wild, consuming dream. I wanted to own Declan. He was the poor, aloof scholarship student, a boy made of ice and untouchable pride. I chased him relentlessly for four years, turning the campus upside down, until I finally used a dirty trick to keep him by my side. But eventually, I was the one who got bored. I walked away without a second glance, throwing him away along with our shared past. Five years later, we crossed paths in the corporate world. He was the city’s newest billionaire, a ruthless titan of industry. I was a single mother barely scraping by, struggling to put food on the table. We brushed past each other like strangers. But that night, his custom luxury car blocked the entrance of my office building. The window rolled down. His features were sharper now, carved from marble, and his voice was colder than I remembered. “I need a woman to take care of my needs. I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for a relationship.” “Ten million. You’re mine until I get bored.” 1 The boy who once let me do whatever I wanted was now opening his mouth only to humiliate me. I should have said no. I should have slapped him across his arrogant face. Instead, I bit the inside of my cheek, tasting copper, and looked him in the eye. “Where is the contract?” He froze. Just for a fraction of a second. Then, a dark, mocking laugh slipped from his lips. “So the rumors are true. After your family went bankrupt, you really did hit rock bottom.” He reached into the breast pocket of his tailored suit, pulled out a sleek black card, and held it out. “The deposit. I have a flight tonight for a week-long business trip. My lawyers will contact you.” He turned to roll up the window. “Wait.” My voice cut through the chilly air. He paused, turning his face slightly. The amber glow of the streetlights flickered in his unfathomable eyes. I met his gaze head-on. “What’s the PIN?” The storm brewing in his eyes instantly died down, replaced by a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Take a wild guess.” The engine gave a low, predatory growl. The tires hissed against the asphalt, and he was gone, swallowed by the night. I turned and walked to the glowing ATM on the corner. I tried a few random combinations. Incorrect PIN. I only had one attempt left. My freezing fingers hovered over the keypad. Slowly, I typed in a string of numbers. The date we started our messy, twisted arrangement, exactly eight years ago. PIN accepted. The balance flashed on the screen. I stared at the impossibly long string of zeros. It wasn’t until the machine beeped and spat the card back out that I realized I had stopped breathing. 2 My encounter with Declan had cost me too much time. I practically sprinted to Mrs. Higgins’ apartment building. The door cracked open, and a little head poked out. Her big eyes immediately crinkled into sweet half-moons. “Mommy!” “I’m so sorry, baby. Mommy is late.” I dropped to my knees and scooped her up, burying my face in her neck, breathing in that warm, powdery scent that only little kids have. “Mrs. Higgins read me the story about the little pigs! The big bad wolf burned his tail at the end!” She babbled, her tiny hands flying around to animate her story. The walk home was short. I held her hand, watching the streetlights stretch our shadows, one tall, one impossibly small, across the pavement. Halfway down the block, she tugged at my fingers. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Mommy, my kindergarten sports day is the day after tomorrow. All the other kids’ daddies are coming…” She looked up at me, the streetlamp catching the absolute innocence in her eyes. “Is my daddy going to come?” My heart contracted like it had been pierced by a frozen needle. I crouched down and smoothed her soft hair, my throat painfully tight. “Daddy… he’s working overseas, sweetie. He might not make it back in time this year.” “Can you ask him next time? Please?” A flash of undeniable disappointment crossed her face. But a second later, she nodded vigorously, putting on a brave front like she always did. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and forced a bright, cheerful tone. “But Mommy has amazing news. Mommy finally has enough money for your surgery. Once it’s done, you’ll be healthy and can run around just like the other kids. How does that sound?” Lily’s eyes lit up, the sadness instantly washed away. “Mommy, I want a cupcake.” She seized the opportunity, pointing a chubby finger at the glowing window of the corner bakery. “Alright. Just for today.” I pushed the glass door open. The rich smell of roasted coffee and vanilla butter washed over us. I was leading Lily toward the pastry case when a voice stopped me dead in my tracks. “Serena?” The voice was tentative, probing, but sickeningly familiar. “It really is you.” My blood ran cold. I turned around in slow motion. When I saw her face, the air left my lungs. Why did it have to be her? 3 Audrey. Her name slammed into my brain. She looked different, yet exactly the same. The awkward, anxious girl from college was gone, replaced by a polished woman in designer clothes and flawless makeup. But the hostility lurking at the bottom of her eyes hadn’t changed a bit. Memories rushed back, dark and overwhelming. Back then, Declan was a god on campus. Distant, brilliant, and completely broke. His poverty couldn’t hide his blinding potential. I chased him for four years. Everyone knew I was crazy about him. But he never gave me the time of day. Until Audrey, his sweet childhood best friend, reported me for cheating on our final exams just to secure her own academic scholarship. She lied through her teeth. But she didn’t know I had the security footage to prove she framed me. That was the first time Declan ever came to me willingly. His usually expressionless face carried a bitter, almost pleading look. “Serena, drop the charges… I’m begging you. Her mother has a severe heart condition. She won’t survive the shock of seeing her daughter expelled.” He paused, lifting his dark, freezing eyes to meet mine. The words were forced out from between his clenched teeth. “If you let her off the hook this once… name your price. Whatever you want.” And so, I got exactly what I wanted. I got Declan. But he was always cold to me. He refused the expensive gifts I bought him. He wouldn’t let me into his private life. Except for when we were tangled in the sheets, he never truly looked at me. It wasn’t until we broke up, until the ugly truth was dragged into the light, that my stupid, naive brain finally understood. The only girl he ever loved was Audrey. For three years, I was the villain. I was the one who took advantage of his desperation. I used the dirtiest trick in the book to steal time that never belonged to me. 4 “Long time no see.” Audrey’s voice yanked me back to the present. Her eyes swept over my cheap, faded coat, then landed on Lily, who was hiding behind my legs. A flash of shock crossed her face. “Is this…” Her gaze locked onto Lily’s face. My heart plummeted. Acting on pure instinct, I shoved my daughter firmly behind me, shielding her from view. “My daughter. I’m married.” The lie slipped out effortlessly. Audrey blinked, momentarily stunned. Then, a slow, triumphant smirk spread across her lips. “No wonder no one could find you for the college reunions. Everyone misses our campus princess, you know.” I offered a stiff, meaningless smile and pulled Lily away, trying to walk around her. “I have to go. See you around.” She stepped sideways, blocking my path again. She pulled out her phone, tapping the screen to bring up a contact code. “By the way, Declan and I are getting married soon. Let’s exchange numbers. I’ll make sure to send you an invitation. You absolutely have to come.” A sudden, sharp sting hit the back of my nose. I fought down the suffocating tightness in my chest. The smile I plastered on my face must have looked horrific. “No need. I… I’ll be too busy. Congratulations. Goodbye.” This time, I didn’t wait for her to react. I practically carried Lily out the door, throwing myself into the biting night air. Only then did I realize my palms were coated in ice-cold sweat, and my entire body was shaking. “Mommy.” Lily squeezed my fingers. She looked up, her massive eyes filled with confusion. “Who was that lady? Why did she say she was marrying Daddy?” I dropped to my knees and crushed her to my chest. I buried my face in her soft shoulder, taking a ragged breath. “She’s not. They just have the same name, baby. Lily, promise Mommy something. You can never, ever tell anyone Daddy’s name. Understand?” 5 I didn’t sleep a wink that night. As desperately as I needed the money, I refused to be the other woman. And worse, if I stayed tangled up with him, he would inevitably find out about Lily. The very next morning, I walked into Declan’s corporate headquarters. I slid the black card into a plain envelope and handed it to the front desk. “Please give this to Declan.” That evening, the moment I walked out of my office building, a sleek black sedan slid to a stop inches from my legs. The back window rolled down, revealing Declan’s razor-sharp profile. “Get in.” I planted my feet. Wasn’t he supposed to be out of town for a week? He turned his head. His gaze swept over me, freezing me in place. “Don’t make me say it twice.” Defeated, I opened the door and slid into the back seat. Before I even buckled up, the car lurched forward, merging aggressively into the traffic. “What is the meaning of this?” He flicked the black card between his long fingers, cutting straight to the chase. I kept my eyes fixed on the blurring city lights outside the window. “Yesterday… I didn’t think things through. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were getting married.” I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Under the circumstances, our arrangement is inappropriate. We need to call it off.” Silence stretched inside the car. Then, he let out a dark, mocking chuckle. “So what?” He leaned in, his eyes sharp as scalpels, carving right through my fake composure. “Whether I marry or not is none of your damn business.” “You want money. I want a warm body and zero emotional baggage. We both get what we want. Isn’t this exactly the kind of transactional relationship you excel at, Serena?” His fingers wrapped around the back of my neck. He didn’t squeeze hard, but the sheer dominance of his touch made my breath hitch. “I think we’re a perfect match.” His breath ghosted over my lips. He smelled of crisp winter air and expensive cologne, a scent that haunted my dreams, but right now, it made my blood run cold. “Physically, at least. And that’s all I need.” “I refuse.” I jerked my head away, avoiding his piercing stare. “You don’t get to choose…” Before he could finish, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. His brow furrowed, but his hand remained firmly on my neck. He answered it. At first, it was just clipped, monosyllabic responses. But within seconds, the temperature in the car plummeted. He stared at me, a violent storm ripping through his dark eyes. “Are you absolutely sure?” His voice was terrifyingly hoarse. Dead silence. Then, a low, hollow laugh scraped its way out of his throat. His fingers, still wrapped around my neck, slowly loosened, slipping away until his hand dropped to his side. He threw the phone onto the opposite seat. He turned back to look at me. The last remaining spark of life in his eyes was completely gone. “You’re married?” Every word was dipped in ice. “And you have a kid?” I didn’t say a word. His lips twitched, and he started to laugh. It started as a silent shake of his shoulders, building into a harsh, broken sound that echoed off the leather interior. A single gleam of moisture caught in the corner of his eye. “Serena,” he said, shaking his head, his voice dripping with exhaustion and self-loathing. “I must be out of my mind… letting you humiliate me a second time.” “Pull over!” he barked at the driver. The car slammed on the brakes, violently jerking to a stop by the curb. “Get out.” He stared straight ahead, his jaw locked like granite. “And never let me see your face again.” I pushed the door open into the freezing wind. I slammed it shut behind me. The engine roared, and the car vanished into the dark street, as if it had never been there at all. 6 Since I had returned the money to Declan, I had to find another way to save up for Lily’s surgery. A coworker got me a night shift gig as a bottle girl at a high-end private club. Later that week, balancing a heavy tray of expensive liquors, I pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of a VIP suite. The smell of cigar smoke and expensive perfume hit me instantly. I kept my head down, trying to be invisible as I walked toward the glass table. “Hold on…” a familiar, obnoxious male voice rang out. “Am I hallucinating?” My steps faltered. I instinctively looked up. Sprawled on the center leather sofa was Declan. He was swirling amber liquid in a crystal glass, his eyes dark and unfocused in the dim, neon lighting. Sitting right beside him, smiling perfectly, was Audrey. And the man who had spoken was Blake, Declan’s old college roommate. Blake was already on his feet, circling me like a shark, looking me up and down. The shock on his face quickly warped into cruel excitement. “Well, well, well! If it isn’t Princess Serena!” “What’s the matter? Playing dress-up for the working class?” I gripped the edges of my serving tray until my knuckles turned white. I kept my mouth shut. That only made Blake bolder. He turned back to Declan, grinning like a hyena. “Dec, look at this! It’s Serena! The girl who chased you till the whole campus knew about it, and then dumped you like trash! What a small, pathetic world!” Another guy I vaguely recognized chimed in from the corner. “No kidding! Man, Dec was wrecked for months after that. Princess Serena really has no heart.” Declan said absolutely nothing. He just stared at me, his eyes pitch black. Audrey leaned forward, playing the peacemaker. “Come on, guys, let it go. That was ancient history. She’s married now. I heard her kid is already walking. Life… clearly hasn’t been easy for her.” Her eyes flicked over my cheap velvet uniform, the condescension dripping from every syllable. Blake jumped right back in, playing the generous patron. “Hey, Serena… working here means you get a commission for every bottle we pop, right?” He grabbed a half-empty bottle of premium whiskey from the table, snatched an oversized glass, and poured it to the brim. He shoved it across the table toward me. “Tell you what. For old times’ sake. You down this entire glass, right now, and I’ll put this entire table’s tab under your name. That’s a massive tip. Fair enough?” The sheer humiliation felt like hands wrapping around my throat. I opened my mouth to tell him I was just a server, not a drinking companion. “Get out.” Declan’s voice cut through the room. It wasn’t loud, but it instantly slaughtered the laughter and chatter. He leaned back into the leather cushions, not even bothering to look at me. “Send someone else.” One of the guys, clearly a few drinks deep, chuckled nervously. “Dec, why so tense? Afraid her little bastard kid is yours?” Declan’s eyes snapped up, lethal and terrifying. 7 My heart leaped into my throat. But a second later, Declan let out a low, dismissive scoff. “Impossible.” His gaze drifted over me like I was garbage on the sidewalk. “I just don’t want to look at her.” I practically fled the room. Once I reached the hallway, I collapsed against the cold wall, my knees shaking so violently I could barely stand. Thank God. He didn’t suspect a thing. But why? Blake said I broke his heart. He said Declan was a wreck after I left. Declan didn’t deny it. But that made no sense. He hated me. He only tolerated me because of our twisted deal. Right? My mind violently rewound to five years ago. His birthday. I had found out his roommates were taking him to a cheap diner near campus. I bought an expensive, custom-made gift and planned to sneak in to surprise him. I was standing right outside the private room, hand on the doorknob, when I heard Blake’s voice through the thin wood. “Dec, seriously, what’s your game plan? We’re graduating soon. You’re not actually going to string this rich girl along forever, are you?” Then Audrey spoke up, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Declan, Serena… she’s not like us. The way she treats you, it’s like you’re just a toy she has to own. She doesn’t respect you. You can’t actually be thinking about marrying her.” My breath caught. I waited, desperate for him to defend me. To tell them they were wrong. Instead, I heard his voice. Cold, bored, and irritated. “You’re overthinking it. It’s just a transaction. Marriage was never on the table.” Someone else laughed. “Exactly! Everyone knows Dec only agreed to her demands to protect Audrey. When has Dec ever even smiled at her? He probably feels sick every time he looks at her!” A chorus of knowing chuckles echoed through the room. My fingers clamped onto the doorknob. I bit my lower lip so hard it bled, fighting back the hot tears stinging my eyes. It wasn’t true! They didn’t know anything! He was the one who took his jacket off in the library and draped it over me when I fell asleep. He was the one who shoved my freezing hands into his coat pockets while walking me back to my dorm in the snow. He was the one who whispered sweet things against my lips, coaxing me when I was too shy in bed. Was all of that just in my head? Was I totally delusional? I took a deep breath, trying to glue my shattered pride back together. I was just about to push the door open. Then Audrey laughed. A sweet, clear sound that pierced straight through the door. “Alright, enough of this depressing talk. Declan, remember our promise? We’re going abroad together for grad school. The university just confirmed our fully-funded spots. Our real future starts now.” I froze. In his grand master plan for the future, there was no room for Serena. There never was. I looked down at the perfectly wrapped box in my hands. I didn’t kick the door in. I didn’t scream or cry. I just turned around, walked to the trash can at the end of the alley, and dropped it in. On my walk home, my phone rang. It was my uncle. In the span of five minutes, my entire universe collapsed. My father’s company had gone under. Massive, insurmountable debt. Unable to face the shame, my parents had chosen the most permanent way out. They left me a mountain of debt, a shattered life, and… a tiny, quiet heartbeat inside me that I hadn’t even discovered yet. 8 It was only after the funerals that I found out I was pregnant. Desperate, terrified, and totally alone, I gambled everything and went to find Declan. “Declan, will you marry me?” He stared at me, completely blindsided. It took him several seconds to recover. When he did, his brow furrowed, and his eyes filled with absolute disgust. “What kind of sick game are you playing now, Serena?” One sentence. One effortless, devastating sentence. It extinguished the very last pathetic ember of hope in my chest. To him, the very idea of marrying me was an insult. A joke. There was never any hope for us to be anything more than a dirty secret. Not in the past. Not then. And certainly not in the future. Dead inside, I nodded. I didn’t say another word. I just turned around and walked away. I stayed away for five years. I only came back to this city because it had the best pediatric surgical ward for Lily. I never expected to run into him on day one. Later that same night, the doorbell buzzed relentlessly. I knew exactly who it was, but I had to open it before he woke the neighbors—or worse, woke Lily. The second the lock clicked, the door flew open. Declan shoved his way inside, reeking of expensive bourbon. He slammed me backward against the entryway cabinet. Before I could even gasp, his arms wrapped around me. The smell of alcohol, the cold night air, and his agonizingly familiar scent swallowed me whole. “Declan, what the hell are you doing?!” I shoved my hands against his chest. Through his crisp dress shirt, his heartbeat was racing, burning against my palms. “I am a married woman!” He snapped his head up. His eyes were totally bloodshot, but there was a terrifying clarity in them. “You married a man who lets you live in this dump?” His gaze practically scorched my skin. “A man who lets you work in a sleazy club just to be humiliated by trash?” I turned my face away, pushing against him with everything I had. “That is none of your business.” He didn’t move an inch. “How the hell is it not my business?” He pinned my wrists to the wall. His eyes were rimmed with angry red. “Did you forget we never actually broke up, Serena? You still belong to me!” I froze. Using my moment of shock, he framed my face with his large hands and crashed his lips onto mine. He kissed me with savage, desperate hunger, murmuring against my lips. “Divorce him.” “I know your kid is sick. I know you need cash.” He rested his forehead against mine, his breath ragged and hot. “Come back to me. I’ll give you a blank check. Whatever you want.” The kid. It was like a bucket of ice water to the face. My heart stuttered. He ran a background check on Lily! What else did he find? Did he see— Raw panic eclipsed my anger. I violently shoved him back. My hand cracked across his face. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the tiny hallway. “Declan,” I gasped, my whole body trembling. “You are out of your mind.” His head was turned to the side from the force of the slap. Slowly, he let out a dark, hollow laugh. “Yeah.” He looked back at me, his eyes dead. “I’m out of my mind. I’ve been out of my mind for eight years.” “That’s why I kept breaking every rule I had for you. That’s why I tore the world apart looking for you when you vanished. That’s why—” He choked on the words, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I was finally ready to let you go, Serena. Why did you have to come back? Why are you destroying me all over again?” He looked at me with a pain so deep it made my stomach twist. “You ran away with him. Why would he let you live like this?” I stared at him, completely lost. “What the hell are you talking about?” He didn’t answer. He just pushed past me, stumbling slightly as he walked deeper into the apartment. He was walking straight toward the half-open door at the end of the hall. Lily’s room. If he opened that door… If he saw her little face. Her eyes, her jawline, the tiny crease between her brows when she slept—a perfect carbon copy of his own… He would figure it all out. My heart completely stopped beating.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “401587”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • I Time-Traveled to Save the Billionaire In My Bed

    I was in the middle of an intense moment with a bigshot from the city elite, when I suddenly, inexplicably, found myself… elsewhere. [Another one trying to conquer the villain? LOL.] [And dressed like that? The villain likes innocent, pure girls! No chance this time.] [Later on, Bryan will be a ruthless kingpin, dominating both sides, someone who kills without batting an eye.] I glanced at the floating comments, then down at myself. A black deep-V dress, cut to my navel, with a hemline so short it barely covered my backside. Bryan had practically begged me to wear it last night. He’d been kneeling on the bed, eyes flushed. “Honey, just this once, I’ll transfer ten million to your account.” 1 I reluctantly put it on. And then he kept me up half the night. Now, though, I wake up to Bryan stepping out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, staring at me like I’m a ghost. “Who are you?” I was furious. What, now that he’d had his fun, he didn’t recognize me? “What do you mean, ‘who am I’? I’m your wife!” The words hung in the air, and I froze. What kind of dump was this? Peeling paint, drafty windows, furniture that looked salvaged from a dumpster. Where was my luxurious king-sized bed? Where was my five-person capacity bathtub? Bryan’s face was inches from mine. No scar on his temple, no lines of weariness, just youthful sternness and suspicion. I reached out, cupping his face, examining him from every angle. “Honey, did you get a face-lift without telling me?” Which clinic did it? The results are amazing! Bryan slapped my hand away, his eyes like daggers. “I’m asking again – who are you?” 2 I calmed down. I meticulously checked the calendar on the wall. Five years ago. Meaning, this was Bryan before he made his fortune. The dirt-poor Bryan. I took a deep breath, remembering the Bryan from five years in the future. He was so glamorous back then. Bodyguards shadowed him everywhere, crowds surrounded him in meetings, yet at home, he was as docile as a kitten. He’d soothe me when I threw a tantrum, dote on me when I pouted. When I said I wanted the stars, he actually bought me a meteorite fragment. It was so huge, sitting in the living room, it made my wallet ache just looking at it. “Honey, how much did this cost?” He was peeling an apple for me, not even looking up. “Not much.” “How much is ‘not much’?” He thought for a moment. “Just about a hundred million.” I nearly fainted. “Bryan, are you out of your mind?” He looked up at me, his eyes innocent. “Didn’t you say you wanted a star?” I was speechless. “I just said that offhand!” He smiled, offering the peeled apple to my mouth. “Even if you said it offhand, I took it seriously.” I looked at the eighteen-year-old boy in front of me. I blinked, then offered my most professional, charming smile. “Little brother, tell me, how much do you earn a month now?” 3 Bryan frowned. “None of your damn business.” “Of course it’s my business.” I circled him, eyeing him up and down. “If you’re broke later, I’m not staying with you.” Bryan scoffed, turning to walk into the bathroom. “Psycho.” Quick as a flash, I snatched his towel. It dropped to the floor. The air solidified for three seconds. Bryan’s face flushed crimson, right to his ears. “You!” I looked down, nodding in satisfaction. “Yep, the size matches. It’s definitely my husband.” [?????????] [What is this woman doing???] [I’m dying of laughter, the villain just got flashed hahahaha] Bryan fumbled, quickly snatching up the towel and wrapping it around himself, his eyes wanting to devour me whole. “What exactly do you want?!” I crossed my legs, sitting on his creaky, rickety bed. “I told you, I’m your wife.” “You don’t believe me? Then let me ask, do you have a mole on your left butt cheek?” Bryan’s expression changed. I continued, “You prefer to put it on your right, right? You love to kiss me in front of the mirror, while making me call you ‘Honey’, and as soon as I do, you…” “Enough!” Bryan cut me off, his voice cracking. He stared at me for a long time, then gritted his teeth and asked, “Are you… are you really my future wife?” I nodded elegantly. “Uh-huh.” “Then tell me, will I be rich later?” I smiled. Was that even a question? “Extremely rich.” “How rich?” I thought about it. “Last month you just transferred fifty million to me, just because I complimented a new bag.” Bryan’s eyes lit up. But he quickly composed himself, scoffing. “So you’re only here because you’re after my money?” I paused. That was a good question. I didn’t answer, instead asking him, “How much do you earn a month?” Bryan fell silent for a moment. “Three thousand.” I almost burst out laughing. Three thousand? I usually spend more than three thousand on a single lipstick. I stood up, walked over to him, and poked his chest. “Little brother, you’re making three thousand now, and I’m still here. What do you think I’m after?” 4 Bryan was stunned. The comments section exploded: [OMG this woman’s got something going on] [The villain’s heart rate is increasing!] [Wait, she looked totally disgusted just now??] Bryan was silent for a long time, then he turned his head, his voice muffled. “You… you should put on some clothes first.” I looked down at my deep-V. “What, shy?” Bryan’s ears were as red as if they were bleeding. [Ding – Villain’s Affection +10, Current Affection: 10] [Holy cow, what kind of crazy move is this??] [Is this what they call ‘purity means nothing in front of sexiness’?] [Heh, men.] Whether Bryan believed me or not, I stayed. I batted my eyelashes and pouted, wearing Bryan down until he had no temper left. Though this rundown place didn’t even have heating. Though this rickety bed felt like a bed of nails. Though Bryan left early and came back late every day, leaving me only fifty dollars for living expenses. Fifty dollars! I held the crumpled bill, lost in thought. The last time I saw a fifty-dollar bill in cash was in my previous life. It had been so long since I spent such a small amount, it felt almost exotic. Bryan glanced at me before he left. “Make it last.” I pouted. Save? The word “save” didn’t exist in Evelyn’s dictionary. 5 I took the fifty dollars and went out. After a quick stroll, I bought a bubble tea. Thirty-five dollars gone. Then a small cake. Another fifteen dollars gone. On my way home, I passed a men’s clothing store and saw a sweater in the window. I suddenly remembered that Bryan, five years later, owned an identical one. He’d bought it himself. One time I asked him, “When did you buy this? It looks good.” He glanced down, saying casually, “A long time ago, I never had the heart to throw it away.” I didn’t think much of it then. Now, I suddenly understood. This was when he bought it. I stood in front of the window for a long time. I reached into my pocket, only to realize I had no cards. I pulled out my phone to call Bryan, then remembered this was five years ago; I didn’t have his number, and couldn’t use electronic payments. Never mind. I turned to leave, then walked two steps and looked back. The sweater was light gray. It would look great on Bryan. 6 When Bryan returned that evening, I was huddled on the sofa, shivering. The dilapidated house was drafty. Back at the Bryan’s mansion, the entire villa would be heated, and I could run around barefoot. It had been a long time since I’d felt this cold. He looked at the empty table. “You didn’t eat?” “I did.” “What did you eat?” “Bubble tea and cake.” Bryan’s face darkened. “That’s not a meal.” I retorted, feeling completely justified. “That’s what I usually eat.” Bryan took a deep breath and walked into the cramped kitchen. … Ten minutes later, he emerged with a bowl of noodles. Plain broth, with a poached egg nestled on top. I eyed it disdainfully. “Looks terrible, even a dog wouldn’t eat it.” Bryan set the bowl in front of me. “Then go hungry.” Then he went into the bathroom. I stared at the bowl of noodles for a long time. Finally, I picked it up and ate. It was delicious. When Bryan came out, the bowl was empty. I curled up on the sofa, pretending to be asleep. He stood there, watching for a while. Then, I felt a warm piece of clothing draped over me. It was his jacket. Worn, faded from washing, but incredibly warm. I secretly opened one eye. Bryan stood by the window, his back to me. Moonlight illuminated his figure, his shoulders thin in a way that tugged at my heart. [Affection +5, Current Affection: 15] [Strategist, you actually tricked the villain into giving you his jacket!] [How unusual. The villain actually has a soft side!] I ignored the comments. I just made a mental note. When I was rich later, I’d buy Bryan ten jackets. No, a hundred. 7 Days turned into weeks. Bryan left early and returned late every day; I did nothing. The comments began to mock me. [Is this strategist even trying? Just lying around at home all day?] [Other strategists go out to offer warmth and care, but this one just waits for the villain to come home and serve her.] [LOL, this one’s definitely going to fail.] I ignored them. I’d become Bryan’s kept woman right after college. So what if I lay around? My husband supported me; it was only right. But one day, as Bryan was leaving, I casually asked, “Where are you going?” “Work.” “What kind of work?” He paused. “Construction, moving bricks.” I was stunned. Moving bricks? I opened my mouth, wanting to say something. But Bryan was already gone. That night, he came home very late. His hands were covered in blisters. I saw them, but said nothing. Only after he fell asleep did I quietly get up and find his ointment. I applied it to his hands, little by little. As I did, I thought of another pair of hands. The hands of Bryan five years later, the ones that often held mine. Calloused, with thick knuckles, but dry and warm. Every time I lost my temper, he’d gently embrace me with those hands. Every time I was sad, he’d wipe away my tears with them. Once, I stared at his hands for a long time. “Honey, why are your hands so rough?” He looked down. “From work.” I frowned. “You’re so refined, what kind of work makes your hands like this?” He smiled, but didn’t answer. I hadn’t paid it any mind then. Now, I suddenly understood. It was from moving bricks. Those blood blisters had hardened into calluses. As I applied the ointment, my nose suddenly ached. 8 I grew up in a single-parent home, constantly moving with my mother. Because I didn’t have a father, I was often bullied. So when I transferred schools, I deliberately portrayed myself as a rich heiress to prevent others from picking on me. As time went on, I started to believe my own lie. I was vain and materialistic. When Bryan proposed to take care of me, I readily agreed. It was simply one person seeking money, the other seeking companionship. Perfectly fair. Compared to going hungry and being bullied, there was nothing to be ashamed of. But I never imagined that Bryan wasn’t born into wealth. Bryan’s brows were furrowed; he was sleeping restlessly. I gently stroked his face. … The next day, when Bryan woke up and saw the ointment on his hands, he paused. He looked at me. I pretended not to notice, continuing to scroll on my phone while curled up on the sofa. Bryan said nothing. But before he left, he placed a hundred dollars on the table. Double the usual amount. [Affection +10, Current Affection: 25] [The villain seems to… care about this woman now?] I rolled over. Of course. My husband wouldn’t care about me? 9 I started trying to be a little nicer to Bryan. “Bryan, I bought you a sweater!” I presented the gift, expecting praise. Bryan looked at the light gray sweater, then at the tag. “299?” “Yeah, isn’t it nice?” “Where did you get the money?” I stated proudly, “Your living expenses, I saved it.” Bryan was silent for a moment. “How long did you save?” I thought about it. “About a week.” “Then what did you eat for a week?” “The late-night snacks you brought home.” Bryan’s expression was incredibly complex. Finally, he put on the sweater. It fit perfectly. I nodded in satisfaction. “Looks good.” Bryan looked down at himself, then at me. “You… why are you so good to me?” I looked at the eighteen-year-old Bryan in front of me. He wore the sweater I bought him, his ears a little red, his gaze awkward yet soft. I paused. Why? Because I’m your wife. But as the words reached my lips, another memory surfaced. 10 The first year of our marriage, I once had a fever. Bryan happened to be away on a business trip and couldn’t get back. On the phone, his voice was frantic: “I’ll have someone take you to the hospital.” “No need, I’ve taken medicine.” “Are you sure?” “Really, you focus on your work.” He was silent for a moment. “Honey, I’m sorry.” I laughed. “Sorry for what?” “For not being there with you.” “Oh, it’s just a fever, don’t make such a big deal.” He was still worried. The next day, I received a pile of express deliveries and takeout. Fever medicine, a thermometer, heat packs, and my favorite strawberry cake. He had someone send a whole box. Later, I found out that he hadn’t slept at all that night, constantly on the phone, finding people to help take care of me. I asked him, “Did you really need to go that far?” He hugged me. “Yes, I did. Everything about you matters.” I suddenly understood. The reason he was so good at caring for people was because he once had nothing. Because he had never had anything, he cherished everything he possessed even more. I reached out and squeezed his cheek. “Because you’re my future husband. You’ll be very rich later, so I’m good to you now, and you’ll support me later.” Bryan’s expression stiffened. Then he smiled, a slightly bitter smile. “Okay.” “Then I’ll work hard to support you later.” [Affection +10, Current Affection: 35] [But, why does the villain look a little hurt?] I didn’t pay it any mind. Anyway, what I said was the truth. 11 Bryan started to change. Before, he would come home and collapse into bed, but now he would ask me a few more questions. “What did you eat today?” “Did you go out?” “Are you cold?” I answered each question, then went back to lying around. One time, I accidentally saw his phone. He was searching: “How to make money quickly” “How to give my wife a good life” “What to do if my wife likes luxury goods” I was stunned. Then I couldn’t help but smile. This silly boy. That night, when he came home, I deliberately sidled up to him. “Bryan, do you like me?” Bryan’s face instantly flushed. “You… what are you talking about?” I tilted my head, looking at him. “If you don’t like me, why would you want me to have a good life?” He didn’t speak. His ears were red again. I laughed, reaching out to poke his cheek. “Little brother, if you like me, just admit it. What’s there to be afraid of?” He mumbled, “Didn’t you say you’re my future wife?” “What about now?” He turned his head, looking at me. “Now, are you willing to…” Before he could finish, a furious knocking erupted from outside. “Bryan! Open the door!” Bryan’s face instantly changed. He pushed me behind him. “Go inside, don’t come out.”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “401586”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • They Booked Their Reunion At My Hotel

    Ten years after being kicked out of the high school group chat, someone added me back. The group name had changed to “Sophomore Class 3 Tenth Anniversary Reunion.” I scrolled through the chat history. Novak, the class president, had posted: “The reunion location is set: The Haven Hotel, a new five-star place in town.” Below it, a string of replies: “So fancy,” “Can’t wait.” Claire posted a voice message. I tapped to play it. Her familiar voice, laced with a hint of pride, chimed: “I know someone at the hotel; they gave our class an insider’s rate. Only fifty-eight dollars a person.” I stared at the screen, a slow smile spreading across my face. The Haven Hotel. The one I’d officially opened just last month. The name on the business license, under “Legal Representative,” read three words: Evelyn Howard. When they kicked me out back then, they probably never imagined that ten years later, they’d be dining on my turf. 1 I wasn’t in a hurry to speak in the group chat. Messages popped up one after another. I leaned back in my office chair, slowly scrolling up. Claire posted a picture of the hotel lobby, a promotional shot she’d pulled from online. “Girls, isn’t this lobby incredible? My friend is a senior executive here; she got us a forty percent discount.” Forty percent discount. I almost laughed aloud. The Haven’s banquet hall package was thirty-two dollars per person, but she was charging fifty-eight. My old classmate hadn’t seen me in ten years, but her math skills had certainly improved. Novak chimed in below: “Claire, you’re amazing, so well-connected.” Claire replied with a hair-flip emoji: “Of course. After all these years in this city, you’re bound to have some resources.” Felicity also popped up. “Wow, Claire, you’re incredible! Kyle and I will definitely be there!” Felicity. Seeing that name, my finger paused on the screen. Ten years ago, she was my best friend. Without a doubt. I flipped my phone face down on the desk and turned to look out the floor-to-ceiling window. Forty-seventh floor, the city lights spread out beneath my feet. Every brick, every pane of glass in this office, I had earned myself. My phone vibrated again. Novak tagged me: “Evelyn, you’re still in town, right? Are you coming?” Silence for a few seconds. Then Claire replied: “She’s still in town? I thought she’d gone back to her hometown long ago.” Followed by a “mouth-covered-laughing” emoji. I looked at that emoji, my lips twitching. I typed two words: “I’ll be there.” Sent. The group was quiet again for a moment, then Novak sent a thumbs-up: “Great, then we’ll all be there!” No one responded to my message. No one said “long time no see,” no one said “looking forward to it.” And rightly so. In their memory, Evelyn Howard was the girl who stole Claire’s necklace, was scorned by the entire class, and shamefully left the group. Who would welcome a thief? I put my phone down and opened the hotel management system on my computer. The day after tomorrow, December 21st, Banquet Hall B, Sophomore Class 3 Reunion, booked by—Claire. Three hundred dollars advance payment received. For a thirty-person reunion, she paid three hundred in advance. I picked up the intercom on my desk and pressed a button. “Ms. Chen, I’d like to review the schedule for the class reunion booking in Hall B the day after tomorrow.” May Chen, the hotel’s Director of Operations, replied from the other end: “Ms. Howard, is there any issue with that booking?” “No. Just treat it as a normal reception.” I paused. “But all staff, please do not call me Ms. Howard the day after tomorrow.” May Chen was silent for two seconds. “Understood.” I hung up the intercom and picked up my phone again. In the group chat, Novak was tallying attendees, and Claire was posting the reunion agenda—red carpet check-in, talent show, award ceremony. Awards. I scrolled down the page and saw the categories: “Most Successful Award,” “Most Beautiful Comeback Award,” “Most Popular Award.” The person who started the poll was Claire. I put my phone down and stood by the window. The night I was kicked out of the group chat when I was eighteen, I also stood by a window. But back then, there were no city lights outside. Only a drab apartment building and the noisy sounds of party downstairs. Ten years. I clenched my fist, my fingernails digging into my palm. Some scores, it was time to settle. 2 December 21st, 5 PM. I stood outside The Haven Hotel, exhaling a plume of white breath. I hadn’t driven my own car, opting for a taxi. My attire was modest: a grey down jacket over a black turtleneck. My hair was tied in a low ponytail, and my face wore only a thin layer of tinted moisturizer. Pushing through the revolving doors, the warm air of the lobby enveloped me. The young woman at the front desk started to speak when she saw me, but a glance from me silenced her. She lowered her head, pretending to organize documents. I bypassed the front desk and walked towards the banquet hall. At the end of the corridor, the entrance to Hall B was already laid with a red carpet. On either side of the carpet were roll-up banners, emblazoned with “Sophomore Class 3 Tenth Anniversary Reunion,” with a smaller line below: “Grateful for our meeting, cherishing our youth.” I stared at that line for three seconds. “Evelyn?” A voice came from behind me. I turned to see Novak standing there, dressed in a dark blue suit, holding a stack of name tags. He looked me up and down, an awkward smile on his face. “Whoa, long time no see. You… doing alright?” “I’m fine.” “What are you doing for work now?” “Running a small business.” Novak said “oh,” but didn’t press further. He shuffled through the name tags, pulling one out and handing it to me. It read “Evelyn Howard,” listed last. “Claire arranged the seating. You’re… at table three.” I took the name tag, glancing at the hall. Three round tables in total. Table one was closest to the stage, table two in the middle, and table three in the corner, right next to the kitchen entrance. Sitting by the serving area. I nodded, walked over, and sat down. There were a few other name tags on table three: David Hardin, Patrick Bratton, Jane Mantel… all the least noticeable people in the class back then. At exactly 6 PM, people started arriving. Claire walked in, teetering on ten-centimeter heels, in a wine-red dress, a gold necklace around her neck. A necklace. I lowered my eyes. Felicity followed her, in an off-white coat, carrying a Chanel chain bag. Their eyes swept across the hall, finally landing on me in the corner. Claire’s lips curved upwards slightly. Felicity, however, hurried over, her face beaming with surprise as she grabbed my hand. “Evelyn! Oh my goodness, it really has been a long time!” Her hand was soft, her nails manicured in a French style, and a small diamond ring glittered on her ring finger. I looked into her eyes. These were the same eyes that, ten years ago, had declared to the entire class: “I saw Evelyn going through Claire’s bag with my own eyes.” “You look great,” Felicity said, releasing my hand, looking me up and down. “Where did you buy this down jacket? It must be quite warm, right?” Her tone was gentle, but her eyes had already appraised me from head to toe. After her assessment, her smile grew even brighter. “I’ll take you shopping sometime; I know a few really good value stores.” Value. I smiled. “Sure.” She turned and went back to table one, sitting next to a tall man. Kyle Brown. He was a bit thinner, his hair cut short, wearing a grey cardigan. He looked more than ten years older than he had a decade ago. He glanced my way, then quickly looked away. This boy, who had once captivated all the girls in class, was now attentively pouring water for Felicity. The watch on his wrist was genuine, but not particularly expensive. Table one was filled with the “inner circle” from back then: Claire, Felicity, Kyle Brown, and a few other girls who had followed Claire. Table two was the middle tier, the kind who got along with everyone. Table three. I looked around. David Hardin sat across from me, nodding. Jane Mantel sat next to me, head bowed, looking at her phone. The people in the corner, as expected, weren’t talkative. Novak stood on the stage, picking up the microphone. “To all our old classmates—” The lights dimmed slightly. “Welcome home.” 3 The opening video was made by Claire. Old high school photos played on the projection screen, accompanied by a tear-jerking piano piece. Sports days, class photos, New Year’s Eve parties. I carefully looked at each photo. There were twenty-three group photos. I only appeared in the first eight. From the ninth photo onwards, the person standing in my place was Felicity. “High school was so innocent,” Felicity sighed from table one, her voice just loud enough for everyone to hear. “The happiest thing back then was chatting with everyone after class.” Claire chimed in: “Yeah, our little clique was really tight.” She didn’t look at me when she said “our.” When the video finished, the lights came back on. Novak announced the start of the free dining segment, and the waiters began serving food. Table one was served first. I watched the white-shirted waiters carry trays to table one, silently counting—truffle risotto, black pepper short ribs, garlic steamed lobster. Table two followed. Table three was last. When the dish was placed in front of me, I glanced down. Table one had lobster, table three had boiled shrimp. Table one had short ribs, table three had sweet and sour pork ribs. Standard A/B menu difference. But The Haven’s Hall B group meal only had one standard, no A/B distinction. So Claire had specifically set different tiers when ordering from the hotel. “Wow, these shrimp are huge!” a girl from table one exclaimed. No one at table three spoke. David Hardin quietly picked up a piece of pork rib, chewed it, and glanced at me. I smiled at him and took a piece too. It tasted good; our head chef’s skills were always consistent. Halfway through the meal, Claire stood up with her wine glass. “Everyone, a few words.” The entire hall quieted. She stood in the middle of table one, her red dress and gold necklace looking beautiful under the warm lights. “Ten years, and our class is full of hidden talents.” She raised her wine glass and addressed a bespectacled boy at table two. “Leo, I heard you’re in tech in Shenzhen? Must be making a million a year now?” Leo pushed up his glasses, smiling and shaking his head. “No, no, just decent.” Claire then turned to table one. “Felicity and Kyle don’t even need mentioning. They’re a model couple. Everyone knows how well the Chen family’s development in the south of the city sold.” Felicity smiled, lowering her head, leaning on Kyle Brown’s shoulder. Claire’s gaze swept around, bypassing table three. Then it returned. As if she’d suddenly remembered something. “Oh, by the way—Evelyn.” She lifted her chin, looking at me in the corner. “What are you doing now? I think you said earlier… running a small business?” All eyes instantly turned to me. I put down my chopsticks. “Yes, I opened a business.” “What kind of business?” “A hotel.” Claire paused, then laughed. “A hotel? What kind of hotel? A budget hotel?” A few people nearby also started to chuckle. “It’s not one of those hourly-rate motels, is it?” Anya, from table one, said in a shrill voice. The laughter grew louder. I didn’t respond, taking a sip from the teacup in front of me. Seeing my silence, Claire smiled and waved her hand dismissively. “Just kidding. It’s great to be your own boss, right?” She turned back, resuming other topics of conversation. Her voice gradually faded. Jane Mantel at table three leaned over and whispered to me, “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” I watched the group at table one clinking glasses, the light glinting on Claire’s gold necklace. That necklace was pure gold. I recognized it. Because it looked exactly like the one she claimed to have lost ten years ago. Except that one, ten years ago, was fake. 4 About three-quarters of the way through the meal, Novak took the stage again. “Next up is the highlight of our evening – the awards ceremony!” A PowerPoint slide flashed on the projection screen, titled “Sophomore Class 3 Decade of Distinction.” The first award: “Most Popular Award” – Claire. Claire covered her mouth, feigning a flattered expression, and went up to the stage. The applause from the audience was sparse, but table one clapped enthusiastically. Second: “Most Beautiful Comeback Award” – Felicity. Felicity smiled thinly, linking arms with Kyle Brown as she went up to the stage. Comeback. The Felicity who used to blush just talking to boys, who followed me everywhere back then, now stood on stage, flashing a V-sign at the camera. Third: “Most Successful Award” – Leo. Leo went on stage, bowed, and exchanged a few polite words. The three awards were presented. I was about to take a sip of water. “Hold on—” Claire took the microphone, smiling as she looked out at the audience. “I’ve added a last-minute award.” The PPT slide changed. Four large words appeared on the screen: “Biggest Transformation Award.” “This award, I’d like to present to—Evelyn Howard.” The entire hall fell silent for a moment. “Evelyn, come on up.” I remained seated at table three. Jane Mantel tugged at my sleeve beside me. Claire waited for two seconds, then spoke into the microphone: “Don’t be shy. Ten years, let everyone see what you’re like now.” Someone from table one started to egg me on: “Go on up.” I put down my water glass and stood. As I walked past table two, someone whispered something from behind, but I didn’t quite catch it. I walked onto the stage; the lights were a bit blinding. Claire stood next to me, half a head taller. She offered me the microphone. “Care to say a few words?” I took the microphone. “Thank you.” “Don’t just say thank you,” Claire said, playfully teasing. “Tell everyone, how have the past ten years been?” “Alright.” “You said you opened a hotel earlier? A budget hotel?” I didn’t answer. Claire turned to look at the audience, sighing, her face a picture of “I genuinely feel sorry for you.” “Evelyn, honestly, we’ve all thought of you a lot these past ten years.” She paused. “It’s just… that incident back then truly disheartened everyone.” The entire hall fell silent once more. That incident. Ten years ago, Claire claimed her twenty-thousand-dollar gold necklace went missing. Felicity said she saw me going through Claire’s bag with her own eyes. The whole class voted, twenty-eight votes, to kick me out of the class social group. I didn’t vote for anyone. But not a single vote was on my side. “I know you might feel wronged,” Claire’s voice was very gentle, “but the evidence was clear back then—” “What evidence?” I interrupted her. Claire blinked. “The necklace found in your bag, everyone saw it.” I looked out at the audience. Over twenty faces stared back at me, some sympathetic, some curious, some avoiding my gaze. Felicity sat at table one, holding her wine glass, her expression calm. “That necklace,” I said, “was fake.” Claire chuckled. “Evelyn, it’s been ten years—” “Gold-plated. Less than two hundred dollars.” I put the microphone back on its stand. “If that necklace was really worth twenty thousand back then, you would have called the police.” Someone in the audience gasped. Claire’s smile froze for a moment. Just a moment. She quickly recomposed herself, shaking her head. “Evelyn, I was genuinely trying to help everyone make peace. Saying things like that, it just hurts feelings.” She turned to the audience, shrugging helplessly. “Everyone, don’t misunderstand, I don’t mean anything else.” Anya from table one chimed in: “Exactly, she invited you to the reunion out of kindness, and you’re just bringing up old grudges.” Another girl added: “It’s all in the past, why bother?” A chorus of agreement rose from the audience. “Let it go,” “What’s the big deal,” “Still holding onto it after ten years.” Standard peacemaking. I looked at the “understanding” faces in the audience and suddenly felt a strong sense of déjà vu. It was the same ten years ago. They said, “Just apologize, Evelyn.” I didn’t apologize, so I was kicked out. Claire raised her hand and patted my shoulder, just enough force to make those around her think she was being friendly. “Evelyn, don’t overthink it. Sit down and have a drink; today is just for a happy get-together.” I glanced at her hand on my shoulder. Her nails were painted with wine-red polish. I didn’t move. She retracted her hand herself. As I walked off the stage, I passed by table one. Felicity looked up and smiled at me. A beautiful smile. She had smiled like that ten years ago too. After smiling, she told the homeroom teacher— “I saw it. The necklace fell out of Evelyn’s bag.”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “401585”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • A Distorted Genius Torments Me. I Choose Freedom

    1 My son, a math prodigy. Severely injured in a car accident, I was late for the party celebrating his college acceptance. As usual, he’d prepared a set of number puzzles for me. He said, “Mom, once you solve the puzzles, you’ll find the key to get in and see me.” I called my husband, his voice impatient, “Those who make mistakes should be punished. If our son understands this, why don’t you?” Under the blazing sun, I spent five hours, finally finding that small key. But at that moment, I suddenly felt a profound weariness. I left a divorce agreement. Before leaving, I sent a final message to my son: “Don’t worry, you won’t have such a terrible mother anymore.” I placed the divorce agreement, along with the thin key in my palm, under a flowerpot outside the villa’s garden gate. I took a photo and sent it to Arthur. The sun beat down relentlessly. Perhaps it was due to excessive sweating. The bandages wrapped around my calves and arms began to seep with blood again. I booked a train ticket back to the quiet town of Crestwood and turned to leave. Behind me, the security guard at the wrought-iron gate called out in surprise: “Madam, Mr. Knight and the young master said you could enter once you found the key.” I paused. Without turning back, I said quietly, “No need.” Just before boarding the train, Arthur called. His tone was angry, “Just because you were late, and our son gave you a few math problems, you want a divorce?” The train station was bustling with people. I stood in a long line, waiting for security check. The explanation was actually on the tip of my tongue. For instance, on the way back this morning, a sudden torrential downpour had caused a twenty-car pile-up, killing three people instantly. I had narrowly escaped, was told to stay in the hospital for observation, but chose to get bandaged and rush back anyway. We had agreed I’d arrive by ten; I was actually only five minutes late. But before I could utter a single word, Arthur’s furious voice, again, cut through: “It’s our son’s college entrance celebration, and not a single guest was late, except for you. Evelyn, why do you, as a mother, always have to set the worst example for our son?” The crowd was noisy and suffocating. I couldn’t help but ask, “No one was late except for me?” After I’d spent five hours finding that key, arriving at the celebration villa at three in the afternoon, I saw Laura and her daughter, who were fashionably late, being personally greeted by my son, Craig. He handed one of the two parasols he held to Laura, and shared the other with Lucy. The boy’s secret feelings were deeply hidden, yet betrayed by the subtle flush on his ears. He didn’t even notice me, his mother, standing just a few steps from him outside the gate. On the phone, Arthur was silent for a long time. After a while, he seemed to become irritated, “Evelyn, what right do you have to compare yourself to Laura and Lucy? Don’t forget, all those years ago…” It was as if the thorn that had been lodged in my heart all these years was pricked again. I gently interrupted him, “So, let’s divorce. You marry the wife you want, and give your son the mother and sister he wants.” He almost ground out the words, “You just better not regret it.” It was finally my turn for the security check. I placed my small suitcase on the conveyor belt. My voice, as I spoke, was calm, “I won’t regret it.” Then I hung up, put away my phone, and boarded the train. This city, where I had lived for fifteen years, was now, and forever, irrelevant to me. 2 It was almost midnight when I got off the train. On the street of the county town, my dad’s truck was already waiting. As I stepped out of the station, I saw him waving from afar, his face crinkled with a smile. “Dear, over here.” I walked over, and he kept glancing behind me. When Craig was little, he used to insist on coming with me whenever I returned to Crestwood to see my dad. But as he grew older and began to understand what the Knight family said, he became increasingly distant from me. Now he was fourteen; it had been almost six years since he’d been here. My dad’s face strained with a smile, before he finally pulled his gaze back. The disappointment in his cloudy eyes was unmistakable. I didn’t explain, and he didn’t ask. He opened the back door of the truck. The large cargo compartment was spotlessly clean, with neat bedding laid out. In the corner, Goldie was curled up asleep. Hearing the commotion, it whined twice and got up. The light was dim, and it took a while for it to make me out. Then it suddenly became energetic, happily rushing towards me. I hadn’t been back in over half a year, but it was still so affectionate the moment it saw me. For some reason, I suddenly remembered. Many years ago, Craig used to be this affectionate with me. Every time I rushed home from out of town, the child would run to me, teary-eyed, as if he’d suffered the greatest injustice in the world. I got into the truck compartment and hugged Goldie. My dad went to the front to drive, reminding me as he went: “There’s food and drink in the bag. It’s almost two hours until we get home. Try to get some sleep.” The truck slowly drove onto a deserted road. I lay in the compartment, watching the increasingly bright starry sky through the cage. In a trance, it seemed like I was a child again. As if my fifteen years in the city of Oceanside had just been a dream. Now, the dream should end. 3 I stayed in Crestwood, taking a teaching position at the village elementary school. I picked up my old paintbrushes again, teaching children how to draw. Away from the Knight family, no one would accuse me of saying: “Painting is a tool to flatter the rich; staying in a poor, remote area is how the incompetent escape reality.” Two months flew by. I finally, gradually, got through the withdrawal symptoms of leaving Arthur and Craig. I no longer woke up in the dead of night, my chest aching so much I couldn’t breathe. Days passed. Until two months later, Arthur called me for the first time. I stared at the phone screen for a long time, finally answering. His voice on the other end was cold and disgusted, as if he had reached his limit: “Evelyn, you won, are you satisfied?” I stood at the school gate, surrounded by several children, and didn’t immediately understand. He scoffed again: “When you’re done acting out, come back. Arthur and Craig are both busy, we don’t have time for your childish games.” It seemed every time, all my actions, in the eyes of that father and son, were childish and ridiculous tantrums. Just like when Craig was nine, and for the first time, he threw away the snack bag I had brought him. He told me: “Grandma says this kind of thing is junk food for poor people.” I was furious and raised my hand at him, but couldn’t bring myself to slap him. When I couldn’t help but cry, he looked at me calmly and said: “Mom, even first-grade girls in our school don’t cry so childishly.” Childish, crying. I pulled myself back, trying to speak calmly: “I remember I made myself clear the day I left.” Arthur’s voice became incredulous: “Do you really want a divorce? You’ll have to come back to finalize the divorce papers. When will you stop being so impulsive?” A child tugged at my clothes. I stroked the child’s head, then said softly: “I’ve already fully entrusted the procedures to Mr. Davis, and I’ve signed what needs to be signed. Mr. Davis said he’s already contacted you. If there’s nothing else, please don’t disturb me.” Some parents had already arrived at the school gate, waiting to sign out their children. I reached out to hang up the phone. But then, a slightly awkward and displeased voice of a boy suddenly came from the other end. With the same coldness as Arthur: “What about me?” My finger, reaching for the phone screen, suddenly froze. A sharp, stinging pain surged in my chest. After a long pause, I still didn’t respond, hanging up the phone. Regarding Craig’s custody, whether I wanted it or not, it would never fall to me. Besides, he was fourteen now, had been admitted to the gifted program at Oceanside’s best university, and was almost six feet tall. He possessed intelligence and knowledge far beyond his peers. The Knight family had given him a separate house, the best nanny, and an unlimited black card. He was no longer the child who needed me to raise and care for him. I hung up the phone. I led the group of children, handing them over one by one to the parents who had signed. As evening approached, heavy rain began to fall, and three children were still not picked up, their parents unreachable. The village was remote; almost all young people worked far away. Those left to care for children were, nine times out of ten, elderly people. Poor memory, unable to use phones, various reasons. Every now and then, children would be left unpicked, forced to walk home alone. But it wasn’t safe in the heavy rain. After informing the school, I took the children to my house. My dad drove the truck to pick us up. Seeing me lead a group of children into the truck, he joked, “Looks like I’m hauling a load of piglets.” The children in the truck compartment shrieked with delight, “Grandpa’s truck is so cool!” My dad laughed heartily in the front. He liked children; the last time I saw him laugh so happily was when Craig visited him at eight years old. At home, I had the children take turns showering. Then I dug out Craig’s clothes from when he was eight and chose a few sets for the children to wear. These clothes, my dad would wash several times a year. He always thought Craig would come back, and might even wear them. The children showered and then noisily gathered for dinner. While I was supervising them doing homework in the living room that night, there was a sudden knock at the door. My dad was washing the children’s clothes, heard it, and got up, saying, “It’s this late, someone picking up their child?” The door opened. I got up and followed, only to see my dad’s back suddenly stiffen. Outside the dimly lit doorway stood Craig. He was completely drenched by the heavy rain, his fringe messy and stuck to his forehead. In fourteen years of privileged life, this was probably his first time looking so disheveled. My dad’s memory was probably still stuck on Craig at eight years old. He stared at the tall figure outside the door, and after a long moment of stunned surprise, he suddenly snapped back to reality: “Oh, it’s Craig. My boy, come in, come in!” Craig raised his foot to step in. I stepped forward, blocking the doorway. “Who told you to come?” Craig’s foot, which had crossed the threshold, was abruptly pulled back. The rainwater on the boy’s face flowed down to his chin and dripped onto the ground, his expression pale and embarrassed. He looked so pathetic, as if he had truly traveled a thousand miles alone. If I hadn’t seen the car lights in the front yard behind him, which had been on but then quickly turned off. He just wasn’t used to bowing his head. After a long stalemate, he finally, very unnaturally, managed to say, “I… came to see Grandpa.” Even at this moment, he wouldn’t call me, wouldn’t say a kind word to me. I glanced at my dad: “Dad, it’s getting late. Please go rest first, can I talk to him alone?” I had been living here alone for three months now. Although I hadn’t explicitly said anything, my dad probably had an idea. He sighed, turned around, and hurried back into the kitchen, packing a portion of rice balls, which he shoved into Craig’s arms. Only then did he leave, going upstairs first. With no one else around, I finally spoke: “You should know, your father and I are getting a divorce.” Craig looked down, not at me. He had inherited Arthur’s business acumen, always decisive in words and actions. But now the boy’s voice was very soft: “Not yet.” I explained to him: “The paperwork is being processed, the outcome won’t change.” As if trying to suppress some emotion, in the dim light, Craig’s palm trembled as he clenched it into a fist. After a long pause, he suddenly looked up, a hint of frustration in his eyes. At this moment, his expression briefly overlapped with that of the little boy, years ago, who used to rush towards me with a face full of grievances. I heard him speak, with a trace of subtle panic. “Even if you divorce, you still have an obligation to raise me.” It was somewhat laughable. I looked at him calmly in the night. The child I used to have to squat down to talk to face-to-face. Now I had to look up to see his face. I couldn’t help but remind him, “You were the one who personally questioned me why a child couldn’t choose the mother they liked.” I watched Craig’s expression freeze, slowly becoming uneasy and helpless. He was the child I carried for ten months, born after a life-and-death struggle. I had once poured all my love, all my heart and soul into him. Later, he listened to the Knight family, slowly began to distance himself from me, to resent me. I had also tried everything to reconnect with him. Even bowing my head, admitting fault, explaining, trying to reconcile with him. But the result of my years of effort was, a few months ago, at his fourteenth birthday party. At that party, which I had stayed up many nights preparing for over half a month. He stood on stage, holding the microphone, and made his birthday wish. Giving me the greatest humiliation in front of everyone. He said, “I wish I could have a mother who wasn’t so terrible.” Not long after that, his college entrance celebration. He knew I had encountered a downpour on my way back. Yet, because I was only five minutes late, he made me solve math problems under the blazing sun for five hours. I looked at the boy in front of me, slowly continuing what I hadn’t finished saying: “Regarding that question, I can give you the answer now.” “You can choose the mother you like, and I respect your wishes. I also hope that you no longer appear before me.” As the words fell, I reached out to close the door. Just as the door was about to shut, I heard Craig’s voice, becoming somewhat agitated and reckless: “I won’t leave! Even if you divorce, at my age, I have the right to choose the guardian I want!” I ignored him. At the last moment before the door closed, I heard him call out “Mom,” trembling. His tone actually seemed to carry a hint of humility and pleading. How long had it been since he called me? Too long, I couldn’t remember, and it no longer felt important. I put the children to bed, then returned to my own bedroom. When I walked to the window and pulled back the curtains, the car lights in the front yard were on again. Beside the car, standing in the heavy rain, was Craig. And another person, as I expected, was Arthur. Craig was the Knight family’s only heir. The Knight family and Arthur would never let him, a minor, risk coming here alone. I watched the father and son standing in the heavy rain for a long time. Then my phone screen lit up; Arthur, somewhat exasperated, sent a message: “Evelyn, are you really abandoning your child too? No matter how many grievances there are between us, Craig is innocent. Do you still remember that you are a mother!” How ironic. When I decided to give up, everyone started reminding me that I was a mother. Yet for so many years, I was “a disgrace” in Craig’s words, “a stain” in Arthur’s words. In countless accusations and taunts from the Knight elders, I was “unfit to be a wife,” “unfit to be a mother.” I didn’t reply, put my phone down, and went into the bathroom to wash up. By the time I finished, it was almost midnight. I went to the window to get my phone, and through the windowpane, I saw Arthur and Craig still standing in the heavy rain in the distance. They could have gotten in the car and left, but they insisted on getting drenched. They knew this place; they knew they could see the yard from my bedroom window. They could see the light on in my bedroom, and they probably assumed I would soften. I took my phone and, without hesitation, closed the curtains, blocking out everything outside. Almost simultaneously, Arthur started calling. I hung up, he called again, endlessly. For so many years, he never seemed to have called me proactively before. For important matters, at most a text message, at most three or five words. Perhaps no matter how annoying I was, I had still lived with them for fifteen years. Suddenly leaving, even a cat or a dog, would still make them a little hard to adapt to for a while. The phone kept ringing; I intended to turn it off. Arthur sent another message: “Let’s talk about the divorce.” He called again. This time, I answered. Arthur’s awkward voice, mixed with the pouring rain, came through: “Craig has a fever from the rain. Let him come in and take a shower first, and we can talk face-to-face…” I suddenly, for the first time, felt annoyed with him. Quietly, I interrupted him: “Arthur, what exactly do you mean?” There was a long silence. After a while, the man’s voice came through, somewhat incoherent: “I… truly, truly Craig has a fever from the rain…” I suddenly felt utterly exasperated. Both he and his son were such intelligent people, yet they suddenly insisted on pretending to be oblivious to the simplest questions. I exhausted the last bit of my patience and explained one last time: “Arthur, Craig publicly stated that he wanted to replace me, his terrible mother. Your resentment towards me, claiming I usurped Laura’s position, was your intention, and the entire Knight family’s intention. Now, as all of you wished, I agree to a divorce. You get a new wife, Craig gets a new mother. Is that clear enough? Do you understand clearly enough?” The endless sound of rain, and a deathly silence. I don’t know how long it lasted, so long that I was about to hang up the phone. Arthur finally spoke, his voice for the first time so at a loss: “Evelyn, I…” It was truly frustrating. I suddenly felt that Arthur was truly repulsive, and Craig was also repulsive. My hand holding the phone trembled uncontrollably. Because of anger, because of resentment, because of incomprehension. It was their wish, as they wished. What more did they want, what else could they want?! My emotions were on the verge of breaking. I interrupted him again: “Finally, let me say it one more time. I have fully entrusted the divorce to Mr. Davis; please direct all matters to him. If you refuse to cooperate, Mr. Davis will also file a divorce lawsuit on my behalf. Regardless, it’s over between us.” Just before the call disconnected, two voices, mixed with rain and urgency, came through almost simultaneously. “Evelyn!” “Mom!” I hung up. Then I blocked and deleted all contact information for Arthur, Craig, and everyone in the Knight family. The grievances I no longer wanted to discuss, let them all end here.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “401584”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • I Won My Boyfriend’s Fortune in a Bar Bet

    1 The night before our engagement, my boyfriend, Fred, and his “bestie,” Jenny, impulsively got married at a nightclub. Fred, though, just shrugged, completely unconcerned, as if it were the most natural thing in the world: “Come on, it was just a joke, we’re getting a divorce tomorrow. Everyone knows Jenny and I are just like siblings.” But Jenny, as if deliberately provoking, sweet-talked the people at our table: “One day as husband and wife, a hundred days of kindness, are you just going to watch the show? Aren’t you going to get us a wedding gift?” The table erupted in laughter. “Alright, I’ve got that project on the west side, I’ll give it to you as a wedding gift. But there are rules at the table. If you want it, you’ll have to win it by rolling the dice.” I said nothing, merely taking a seat at the card table. Meeting Fred’s furrowed brow, I gave a faint smile. “So, it’s a dice game for a wedding gift, is it? I’ll play too.” As I settled into my seat, a momentary hush fell over the table. Fred reached out to put his arm around my waist. “Alright, Aubrey, stop messing around. We’re just having some drinks and a laugh, you should head home and get some sleep.” I subtly shifted back, evading his embrace. My expression was calm as I looked towards Jenny. “Keep your hands to yourself. She’s your wife tonight.” Fred’s face darkened, his tone growing impatient. “I’ve told you countless times, Jenny and I are just friends. If there was ever anything between us, where would that leave you?” I didn’t respond. I’d heard those words too many times—because Jenny forgot our date, because Jenny left me stranded on the roadside, because Jenny, drunk, called a cab in the middle of the night to pick someone up, and now, the impulsive marriage certificate at a nightclub. All of his explanations ultimately boiled down to one thing: We are just friends. The atmosphere grew awkward. Seeing this, Jenny sidled closer. She sat directly on Fred’s lap, her arms wrapped around his neck, speaking in a sweet, soft voice. “Alright, stop talking about it.” Then she looked at me, a playful smile on her face. “Aubrey, Fred and I really don’t have anything going on. Tonight was just a wild impulse from drinking too much. We’ll go get a divorce tomorrow. If you’re upset, I apologize.” With that, she lowered her head, picked up a bottle from the table, and started chugging it. Fred’s face changed instantly. He reached out to snatch the bottle, scolding loudly, “What are you doing? Drinking so much!” When he looked at me again, his face was utterly furious. “Aubrey Smith, don’t push it too far!” I couldn’t help but give a self-deprecating smile. “It’s fine, I’m not someone who can’t take a joke. Anyway, I don’t have anything else to do tonight. Don’t you always say I’m antisocial?” Everyone at the table paused, then quickly tried to smooth things over. “That’s great, Aubrey! We’ve always wanted you to join us, it’s just Fred always kept you hidden.” It was Marcus Finch, a long-time friend of Fred’s, who spoke. He gave Fred a meaningful look. “Fred, why aren’t you taking care of Aubrey?” But Fred merely sneered, leaning back into the sofa, pulling Jenny back onto his lap, his arm firmly around her waist. “Don’t look at me; this is my wife tonight.” Seeing my continued calm smile and lack of reaction, the others finally started to egg them on. “Alright, alright, happy wedding! So, how were we playing this again?” Jenny navigated the crowd with ease. She laughed loudly as she explained, “Old table rules, dice roll. But tonight, with good girl Aubrey here, she definitely won’t know our usual game. Let’s go easy on her, maybe just highest roll wins?” “Losers not only drink, but today, to celebrate Fred and my wedding, we’re raising the stakes!” Everyone shouted in protest, “No way! Everyone in our circle knows you, Jenny, and Fred are dice masters. Now you two are a team, how are we supposed to win?” Fred’s hand remained on Jenny’s waist, not once looking at me. He scoffed. “Then concede.” Marcus instantly grew anxious. He slipped off his Patek Philippe watch. “I’ll put up a prize first. This watch just arrived last week, mate.” The bar’s music and dance beats grew louder, setting the mood. Others quickly removed their jewelry and expensive watches. Another girl, Daisy, tossed down a Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet. Fred said nothing, unfastening his custom Hermès cufflinks. My gaze froze. That was an anniversary gift I’d given him. Jenny was still lost in her own excitement. She playfully squeezed Fred’s hand. “I want that bracelet, darling! Win it for me!” I said nothing, taking off my diamond stud earrings and placing them on the table. “Congratulations on your wedding. I’ll play too.” The atmosphere at the table froze for a moment. Fred’s arm around Jenny’s waist seemed to tighten, his brow furrowed, his gaze at me filled with displeasure and warning. Jenny first looked surprised, then chuckled, pushing Fred playfully. “Alright, Aubrey wants to play too, so we’ll have to treat her well!” Marcus quickly interjected, trying to smooth things over. “Exactly, exactly, just having some fun, creating a buzz! Aubrey, the rules are simple: highest roll wins. The person with the lowest roll drinks a shot, and has to choose one item from the prize pool to give to the person with the highest roll as a wedding gift.” He gestured to the pile of luxury watches and jewelry on the table. “Of course, if you’re too sentimental, you can just drink and not give anything up, but that wouldn’t be much fun, would it?” I nodded, indicating I understood. Dice cups were distributed to everyone. Jenny skillfully shook hers. Fred casually rattled his a couple of times before clamping it on the table, his gaze, however, remained fixed on me. I turned my face away, avoiding his intense stare. My movements with the dice cup were indeed clumsy, even awkward. During a lull in the music, I could even hear some whispers. “Aubrey Smith is known as the good girl. What’s she doing here? She’s just a buzzkill.” “She’s here to stake her claim, but Fred isn’t giving her any face, is he?” My face paled slightly. Jenny let out a small laugh. “Tsk, Aubrey, do you want me to teach you the proper technique first?” I ignored her, merely mimicking the action a few times, then gently placed the cup down. “Open them.” The dice cups were revealed. Jenny: five and six, eleven. Fred: two fives, ten. Others had various scores, some high, some low. Finally, it was my turn. The cup was lifted. One one, one two, a total of three. Laughter instantly erupted at the table. “Three! Hahahaha, the lowest!” “Aubrey, your luck…” Marcus stifled a laugh, pushing a shot of whiskey towards me. “You lose, you drink, and…” He glanced at the earrings on the table. Fred finally spoke, his voice cold and hard: “Don’t overdo it if you can’t play. Just drink the shot.” Jenny leaned into his embrace, her face radiant with a smile: “Oh dear, such a small roll on the first round. Looks like our Aubrey will have to pay up for tonight’s gifts. These earrings have such a lovely color, I’ll be happy to take them, won’t I?” I looked at the shot, then at my earring. It was a pink diamond Fred had bought for me at an auction last year, spending a fortune. He’d told me then that he would give me the best things in the world. I gave a self-deprecating smile, gently pushing the earring to the center of the table, towards Jenny. “A bet is a bet.” I lifted my eyes, my voice flat and emotionless. “The gift, delivered.” Fred’s face instantly darkened. Jenny giggled, reaching out to pick up the earring, examining it carefully under the lights. “Thank you, Aubrey, it’s really beautiful!” Marcus hastily interjected, “Alright, alright, second round, second round!” The game continued. Jenny rolled a nine, not a huge number. But Fred, whose turn it was next, rolled a twelve, a full house. “Wow! Darling, you’re amazing!” Jenny cheered. Everyone else chimed in with cheers. Marcus smiled, explaining, “According to table rules, with a full house like that, you can choose any prize on the table.” Fred didn’t look at me again, only embraced Jenny, speaking intimately. “Then let my wife for tonight choose. What do you want?” Jenny’s gaze swept across my side of the table, finally settling on the understated platinum bracelet on my wrist. “I think Aubrey’s bracelet is quite unique, how about that one?” My hand, holding the wine glass, imperceptibly paused. This bracelet was my grandmother’s heirloom; I never took it off. Fred couldn’t possibly not know that. There was a moment of silence at the table, but Jenny then called out, “What’s wrong? Didn’t we say anything could be a prize? Aubrey isn’t going to back out, is she? Or is it that…” I opened my mouth, but was coldly interrupted by Fred. “Table rules, a bet is a bet. Aubrey Smith, hand it over.” I suddenly looked up.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “401583”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • The Useless Bird I Chose is a Divine Beast

    When it was time for the clan’s selection of beast companions, before Blair could even begin her act, I snatched the dying bird from her hands. Then I pushed the black snake with the growing horns in front of her. My cousin, who was just about to start playing the victim, froze, and so did the surrounding clan members. I smiled, saying nothing. In my previous life, I had chosen this snake, who was on the verge of becoming a dragon-serpent. I spared no effort to help him safely complete his transformation. Yet, during my ascension trial, he and Blair conspired to kill me. Afterward, he massacred the entire clan to assist his dragon-serpent transformation into a true dragon. This time, I’d like to see how he manages to transform without my help. 1 The day for the clan to choose beast companions and form contracts had arrived. This year, among the chosen beasts was a serpent-man with bumps on his head, rumored to possess true dragon bloodline. He was powerful and rare. Capturing him had injured many clan members, and he was quite volatile, having bitten and injured a bird beast-person. My cousin, Lily, who was with me, chirped excitedly. “Raina, that serpent-man is definitely yours. You’re so strong.” “I just wonder who gets that bird. I certainly don’t want a useless bird.” “Bonding with a useless beast means your whole life is wasted. It’s terrifying.” “Yeah, a dragon is good. When the serpent-man transforms into a dragon, Raina, you have to let us all see it.” I said nothing, looking at Blair, my cousin, who had the worst aptitude in this round of matching. Listening to the other clan members’ disparagement, she twisted her fingers, her face filled with gloom. If there were no surprises, that bird would undoubtedly be hers. Indeed, when only the snake and the dying bird remained, the resentment on her face was impossible to hide. The elder in charge of distribution liked to leave the best and the worst for last, enjoying the act of putting down the lowest-ranking. I intended to speak before the elder, but Blair beat me to it. She looked at me pitifully, “Cousin, we choose beast companions to help us ascend to immortality later.” “Cousin, you’re so powerful. While a strong beast companion would be like adding wings to a tiger, you wouldn’t really need a beast’s help to ascend.” “I know I don’t deserve such a powerful beast companion, after all, I’m so weak and my talent is poor. Even with his protection, I might not even succeed in my ascension.” She whined softly about a lot of things but stubbornly refused to directly state her intention. But anyone with a brain could understand what she meant. She wanted me to give her the dragon-serpent. The eyes of the surrounding clan members almost rolled into the sky. “I said there were a lot of murals today, turns out someone’s cheek was enough to cover the city walls.” “What she said isn’t wrong. Raina is so strong, even if the dragon-serpent becomes a true dragon, it won’t help Raina much.” “Just because she’s strong, she should just hand it over? Sacrificing others’ well-being for her own? Why don’t you give her your three-tailed fox?” The seemingly objective ones hugged their foxes tightly, not daring to speak. Everyone thought I would directly refuse; no one in their right mind would agree. That’s what I did in my last life, only to hand her the perfect opportunity. “Cousin is right. The dragon-serpent is useless to me. It’s better for someone who needs him more.” The sound of gasps immediately filled the air. “It’s over, Raina’s mind has been messed up from anger.” I ignored them, picked up the dying bird, and kicked the cage holding the dragon-serpent towards her. “He’s yours.” The dragon-serpent and my cousin looked at me in disbelief, but soon, a wide smile spread across my cousin’s face. Seeing that both of us were serious, the elder frowned, wanting to object, but then saw that she had already quickly chanted a spell and formed a contract with the dragon-serpent. It was too late to say anything then. Watching Blair’s triumphant gaze, I smiled. Did she really think this dragon-serpent was such a prize? 2 In my previous life, I naturally formed a contract with the dragon-serpent. Out of respect, I didn’t choose the master-servant contract required by the clan, but an equal one. Afterward, to help him successfully transform into a true dragon-serpent, I traveled all over the Nine Provinces, and even used all the resources I had accumulated over the years to earn him the right to bathe in the Dragon Spring. The Dragon Spring was a spring where a true dragon once circled, rich in spiritual energy, even containing a wisp of dragon aura. It was extremely precious, a treasure of the clan. With that wisp of dragon aura, the horns on his head fully grew out, and he successfully transformed into a dragon-serpent, half a step away from a true dragon. I devoted my whole heart to him, yet he remained indifferent, only coldly watching me rush about for him, righteously accepting the immortal herbs and spiritual treasures I found. Let alone gratitude, he rarely spoke. I didn’t care, as beast-people have different personalities. It was normal for those with extraordinary bloodlines to be proud. All I needed was for him to help me during my ascension trial. But who knew that on the day of my ascension, not only did he not help me withstand the heavenly lightning, he even risked backlash to attack me. I failed my ascension and narrowly escaped death, but all my meridians were shattered, making cultivation impossible. The power gap was too great. I watched him walk away with Blair, then dissolved our contract. At that time, I lay on the ground, disheveled and astonished. The secret art of forming a beast contract was known only to our clan. His ability to dissolve it now meant a clan member was helping him behind the scenes. “Raina looks so pathetic.” Blair slowly walked out from behind him, ethereal and graceful, making me look even more like mud lying on the ground. “It’s you! Why?” My eyes widened as I watched her embrace the black dragon-serpent’s arm, a scornful smile on her face. “Why, you ask? When our talents are so similar, why do you get to be high and mighty, having everything, while I’m only fit for garbage, enduring others’ ridicule?” “You’re just lucky to have a good father who’s the clan leader!” Her face twisted with hatred. “Since it’s so unfair, don’t blame me for fighting for what I want!” I couldn’t believe those words were coming from her. She felt the clan’s distribution was unfair, but all those resources were earned by my tireless cultivation. She complained daily about the injustice yet refused to put in even a bit more effort into cultivation. How could the clan possibly waste resources on her? But the current Blair was convinced it was everyone else’s fault, utterly unwilling to reflect. “Without the contract, Hades will no longer be restricted. Cousin, we won’t kill you. Consider it repayment for all your efforts to help Hades transform into a dragon-serpent over the years.” My eyes burned with fury as I watched her and Hades fly towards the clan. By the time I dragged my broken body back, there was not a trace of life left in the clan. They hadn’t spared anyone, not even newborn infants. I last saw the two of them at the Dragon Spring. Blair was extracting the sealed dragon blood from my father’s shattered body. I didn’t know how Blair knew there was true dragon blood in the Dragon Spring. But I knew that if Hades obtained the dragon blood and transformed into a true dragon, I would never have a chance for revenge in this lifetime. I squeezed out the last bit of spiritual energy from my body and, following my father’s instructions from my memories, blew up the Dragon Spring. This was the last safeguard to protect the dragon blood from falling into outsiders’ hands. Its power was immense; once it exploded, our entire clan would be leveled. If it were any other time, with my clan safe, I might have watched them leave with the dragon blood. But now, with all my kin dead, I had no reservations whatsoever. The Dragon Spring exploded with a roar. In my last glance before everything shattered, I saw Hades finally lose his composure, fleeing in panic, only to be engulfed by the exploding spiritual flames. 3 Since Blair had already contracted with the black dragon-serpent, the elders couldn’t force them to dissolve the contract. “He’s about to transform into a dragon-serpent, requiring many resources. Are you sure you can ensure his smooth evolution?” Blair lifted her head. “Of course, since I’ve contracted with him, I’ll naturally take responsibility for him.” The elder was clearly unconvinced but didn’t say much more, sighing as he looked at the dying, ugly bird in my arms. He hesitated, “Lil’ Willow, given your strength, this bird is truly a burden. If you’re willing to wait a few more days, I can bring you a new beast companion.” Hearing that he wanted to give me another beast, the bird in my arms, unable to even take human form, stirred, seemingly afraid I would abandon him. I soothingly stroked his head. Just as I was about to refuse, I felt an intense gaze of resentment from beside me. It was Blair. She didn’t even care about her own beast and immediately began to whine. “If Cousin doesn’t want that bird either, then no one will. A beast no one wants is doomed to die. Will Cousin just watch him die?” What she said wasn’t wrong. For so many years, it had always been one person, one beast—no more, no less. There had never been a situation where another was sought. The elder was truly regretful for me to make an exception. Before I could speak, the clan members watching couldn’t hold back. “Who are you morally grandstanding? Whose fault is this? Don’t you know what kind of pot suits what lid? If you hadn’t snatched that dragon-serpent, would there be this useless beast left?” “Even if he dies, it’s got nothing to do with Raina. Raina has no reason to take him. You, on the other hand, should go bathe, burn incense, and pray for a few years.” I realized then how eloquent these juniors were in their insults. Each biting remark left Blair speechless. I watched long enough before I finally spoke. “No need, Third Elder. As you said, I’m strong enough. How could I be dragged down by a beast? He’ll do.” “However, I’d like to ask the Third Elder for one chance to enter the Dragon Spring.” Unlike my previous life, where I had to exchange vast resources for one chance, this time the Third Elder agreed without much hesitation. I was strong, having brought much honor to the family. It was already enough of a compromise for me to be bound to a useless beast, so it was only fair to give me some resources. The surrounding clan members also had no objections. I had beaten each and every one of them, so they wouldn’t dare voice any objections in front of me. Only Blair watched me, her face gloomy, clearly plotting something. The Hades beside her, upon hearing the words “Dragon Spring,” completely changed from his previous half-dead state in the cage, supporting himself and looking at me with complex eyes. 4 After forming a beast contract, there’s still much to do, and compatibility is a big issue. I declined other clan sisters’ invitations to head to the back mountains for combat training. This bird’s aura was faint, feeling like it could die at any moment. Though the Third Elder agreed to let me keep him, his condition was really poor, not allowing me to immediately contract with him. He wanted me to wait until his condition improved, fearing that if I contracted him immediately and he died, I would be affected. I carefully examined the unconscious bird with its eyes closed. He was half my size, entirely white, with wounds on his wings from Hades’ bite. Fortunately, before Hades transformed into a dragon-serpent, he was a python, non-venomous. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know where to find an antidote. In my previous life, this bird died very early. At that time, I had just found the Transformation Herb that could help Hades shed his half-human, half-snake appearance. Before I even entered the door, Blair came to me pitifully, saying her contracted beast had died and asking if I could help her find a new one. At that time, I was exhausted from searching for resources to help Hades successfully transform, so where would I find the energy to catch a beast for her? I told her to find one herself, and she ran off crying. Then I turned around and saw Hades, who rarely left the house, standing at the door. I was overjoyed, thinking he was waiting to greet me. Now that I think about it, they were probably secretly hooking up when I wasn’t around, and he was standing at the door to prevent me from bullying Blair. What an ungrateful wretch. But it was strange, this bird was not in good shape, but there was still a trace of vitality. As long as it was well cared for, it shouldn’t have died so quickly. I wondered what happened to Blair in the previous life. I fed him a precious elixir and placed him on a white jade bed. With both measures, the white bird quickly opened its eyes. “Hello, I am your future master.” His beady eyes were full of confusion, looking a bit dazed. “Chirp!” I froze. He suddenly buried his head in his wings, the tips of his wings blushing with shyness. “Ahem, my name is Raina. Are you willing to form a contract with me?” He cautiously lifted his head a little, and seeing that my expression was serious and not mocking him, he fully revealed his head. “Chirp.” His white wingtip touched my fingertip, and the contract was formed.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “401582”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • Parting Is Harder Than Meeting

    1 My husband’s mistress and I share the same birthday. So, at dinner, my son, Charlie, asked, “Mom, are we celebrating your birthday a day early again this year?” My husband, Sean, didn’t look up from his plate. “No time for that.” “This year, Ms. Harris is turning twenty-five, and I’m taking her diving in Bora Bora. We need to take swimming lessons in advance these few days, so there’s no time.” I hadn’t expected that after five years of celebrating my birthday a day early, this year, there would be nothing at all. Charlie, however, perked up. “I want to go diving too! Dad, can you take me with you?” Sean nodded, silently agreeing, then looked at me. “Hannah, send me your birthday wishes on my phone. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.” My birthday wish was for a divorce. … As I cleared the table, Sean made a call to Sarah Harris. “Charlie wants to come along too, is that okay with you?” Sarah giggled in response. “What’s not okay? Are you planning something naughty?” Sean leaned lazily against the kitchen cabinet. “Naughty, huh?” He chuckled, fiddling with the new shelf I’d just bought. “Alright, you just wait till I see you.” While they bantered, I looked at Charlie. “Are you really going? Not spending Mom’s birthday with me?” Charlie tapped on his phone. “Yeah, it’ll be more fun with Dad and Ms. Harris.” I said nothing, went back to the bedroom, and took out a suitcase to pack their clothes. Suddenly, I remembered Sean and my first trip together. We were eighteen, and we were scammed out of 500 dollars just to hang a “love lock.” Sean comforted me. “When I make money, I’ll buy all these locks. You can hang them however you want.” Our love story had been so passionate, so grand, why had it turned into this? I still remembered when I found Sean’s flirtatious texts with Sarah on his phone. I cried, demanding a divorce, and Sean was so terrified he knelt before me. “Baby, I was wrong. I promise it won’t happen again. I’ll make her leave the company tomorrow.” Later, Sean openly gave Sarah the status of his girlfriend. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, he told me, “Hannah, don’t worry, I know how to separate home life from outside life. I won’t let her affect your life.” I was so angry I smashed the matching mugs we’d bought when we got married. That night, I thought a lot. I thought of Sean’s awkward confession, his wedding vows, and his eyes, red and pained, when I gave birth to Charlie. I looked at our son, sleeping soundly in his crib. The next day, I bought two acrylic mugs and accepted Sarah’s existence. My thoughts were interrupted by Charlie, who rushed into the room. “Mom, I don’t want to wear these ugly clothes you bought.” I held Charlie’s small hand. “You have a sensitive respiratory system; the wind at the beach is strong, you need something warm.” “No, I don’t!” Charlie’s crying brought Sean into the room, his phone put away. “Alright, Hannah, it’s hot in Bora Bora. These clothes are too much. The three of us will go shopping tomorrow.” “You don’t need to pack anymore.” With one sentence, he negated a whole night of my efforts. I took out the nasal spray I had prepared for Sean and Charlie from the suitcase. Since they didn’t need it, I wouldn’t give them anything. 2 When I dropped Charlie off at his after-school class, he bragged to the other kids. “My dad and mom are going diving in the Philippines soon!” A child glanced at me. “Your mom doesn’t look like she can dive.” Charlie let go of my hand. “Not this mom.” He quickly explained. “It’s another mom, prettier and younger.” “If you don’t believe me, wait after class. My mom is taking me shopping.” So, after class, Charlie pointed to Sarah, with her big wavy hair in a Rolls-Royce, and shouted. “She’s my other mom.” Charlie ran to Sarah, bathed in the envious glances of the other children. “Mom.” Sarah smiled in response. “No shame,” Sean said, his hand on the steering wheel, laughing. “You, a twenty-year-old girl, wanting to be a mom.” “What? You don’t want to be my baby daddy? Then I’ll find someone else.” Sarah raised an eyebrow, and Sean pulled her into his arms, giving her waist a playful pinch. “You dare?” She immediately pouted, feigning weakness. “I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t.” Her laughter reached my ears. Watching the two most important people in my life gathered around Sarah, I turned my back in self-mockery. I once thought that as long as I didn’t leave, Sean’s true love would still be me, and I could give Charlie a complete family. But now, it seemed I was the superfluous one. As I walked home, a downpour began, and I took shelter under a bus stop. I remembered the last time I took a bus, it was with Sean, carrying our suitcases after graduating from university. There were no empty seats on the bus, so Sean had me sit on a suitcase, his hand tightly gripping the pole, shielding me in front of him. Back then, our destination was a rented room. Today, we had our own home, but we no longer shared the same destination. Thinking of this, I got onto the bus that had just stopped. My rain-soaked hands couldn’t unlock my phone, and as the driver impatiently frowned, Sean’s calls kept coming in. The phone vibrated and slipped from my hand. I scrambled into the rain, and the driver cursed, “Wasting time.” As the bus pulled away, water splashed onto my pants, leaving dark mud spots. On the phone, Sean’s voice was accusing. “What are you doing? Why aren’t you answering your phone?” “It’s raining outside, I…” “Enough.” Clearly, Sean wasn’t truly interested in my situation. “I just wanted to tell you Charlie won’t be home for dinner. Sarah’s taking the little rascal out for pizza.” “You tell her.” Charlie’s childish voice came through. “I’m going to eat pizza with Ms. Sarah. Don’t make me that disgusting multigrain porridge.” Then laughter erupted, Sarah sounding a bit smug. “I told you no kid likes porridge, but you wouldn’t believe me!” “Alright, you win,” Sean said dotingly. “You’ll be in charge of the house from now on.” I could almost picture Sarah’s unrestrained, smiling face, a stark contrast to my current humiliation. I simply said, “Got it.” As I put my phone in my pocket, I accidentally felt two coins. It suddenly dawned on me that Sean had once craved candied hawthorn from the elementary school gate, and the old vendor didn’t use mobile payments. I had specifically exchanged cash to go find him. But that string of candied hawthorn was later forgotten by Sean on the dining table, leaving a sticky mess of syrup that was incredibly hard to clean. I laughed at myself self-deprecatingly. The bus I couldn’t get on, I wouldn’t ride. I didn’t go home; instead, I went to a lawyer’s office. 3 I waited on the sofa until ten at night. When I saw Sean put the sleeping Charlie on the bed, I brought up the topic of divorce with him. “Sean Davies, I will no longer interfere with your relationship with Sarah. Let’s part amicably.” Sean’s usually impassive face rarely showed emotion. “Hannah, if this is because I didn’t celebrate your birthday this year, I apologize.” “It’s just that Sarah is still a young girl, so it’s right for me to prioritize her a bit.” But I also followed Sean when I was young, burning through my youth until I became a worn-out wife. I shook my head. “It has nothing to do with her. I just don’t want to be with you anymore.” Sean tightened his grip on the water glass. “I don’t understand. We’ve been through five years, why are you making a scene now?” “We’re going abroad tomorrow; do you have to pick a fight tonight?!” The moment the cup hit the floor, I was only grateful it was acrylic. Sean put on his jacket and walked out of the room. “Going down for a cigarette, don’t wait up for me.” I next saw him at the airport. I ran into him, Charlie, and Sarah. She still had that same smiling expression. “Hannah, I specifically sent Sean home last night to pack, but he suddenly showed up in the middle of the night and clung to me for a while. Did you two have a fight?” “From now on, just let him stay with you.” I pushed Charlie towards Sarah, and Charlie happily grabbed her hand. “Sean too, I told him we could celebrate my birthday casually, but he went and planned a trip abroad.” I looked at Sean, who was checking in ahead. “When we get back, I’ll have him make it up to you with a proper birthday celebration.” Sarah’s face held a triumphant boast, and I suppressed all the words I wanted to say deep down. I couldn’t compete with that young body, so I wouldn’t. Sean took Sarah’s hand, with its extra-long manicure. “Hannah, we’re leaving.” A rare hint of guilt appeared in his eyes. “Remember to send me your birthday wishes. I’ll make sure to fulfill whatever I can.” “Dad, hurry up! Don’t waste time with her. I want to ride the big airplane.” Charlie pulled Sean and Sarah, skipping towards security. After returning home, I developed a high fever. Feeling disoriented, I just hid under the covers. In a daze, I dreamt of Sean. He was still twenty years old, holding my hand, playfully calling me his wife. “Good girl, sweetheart, take your medicine so you can get well.” He held the prepared medicine to his lips to test its temperature. “Perfect, drink it now.” When I woke up, all I heard was the loud ringing of my phone. I croaked a hoarse reply. “Hannah Davies, why didn’t you bring the nasal spray?” “Don’t you know the wind is strong at the beach? Charlie and I will get sick!” Sean dragged me back to reality, yelling impatiently. “Alright, just text me the medicine’s name. I’ll buy it myself. You’re such a hassle.” The phone went dead, and the tears I thought had long since dried finally flowed again. I profoundly understood one thing: Sean and I could never go back. I itemized all income and real estate since my marriage to Sean. I decided not to fight for Charlie’s custody, with only one condition: Sean must not have any more children, a promise he had made early on. I handed these documents to my lawyer, and the divorce agreement was quickly drafted. 4 Before deciding to leave, I went to visit Sean’s mother. When I was in school, she would always have Sean bring me home, constantly piling food onto my plate. “Eat more, little Hannah, you’re so thin.” Those words, to me, an orphan, brought the warmth of a home. My marriage to Sean was natural, almost devoid of any heartache from love. That’s why I swallowed my pride for those five years, nearly losing myself completely. When I entered, my mother-in-law was on a video call. She looked at Sean and Sarah on the screen, an unstoppable smile on her face. “You rascal, Sarah is still young, you should be more considerate.” Sean ruffled Sarah’s hair. “She’s only young, but she has a bigger temper than anyone. She gets mad if she eats one more bite.” My mother-in-law’s tone was doting. “Little Sarah, you should eat more, look how thin you’ve become.” My movement to take off my shoes paused. When my mother-in-law looked over, I hastily lowered my head, hiding my bloodshot eyes. My mother-in-law put away her phone and called out, “Little Hannah, come in quickly.” “No, Mom, I haven’t changed my shoes. I won’t go in.” I opened my umbrella and walked through the park where Sean and I used to stroll during university. Under the most lush tree there, we had buried our hamster, which we had raised together for three years. Sean wiped away my tears, calling me useless. “If I were gone one day, how much would you cry?” He sprinkled the last handful of dirt, then hugged me. I would forever remember his soft voice saying, “Hannah, I’ll always be with you.” He knew better than anyone that my parents had died young, and I had lived alone for over a decade. He was already my entire world. But his world didn’t belong to me alone. I sat on a wooden bench in the park, watching the time. At midnight, I sent him the divorce agreement. “Sean, this is my birthday wish.” The next moment, my phone rang. I had never seen Sean so furious. “Hannah Davies, why are you sending messages now? Because I was looking at your damn message, I didn’t hold onto Sarah, and now she’s in the hospital from drowning!” “I don’t care what you’re doing, you get over here now and take care of Sarah until she’s out of danger!” After the call ended, I received flight information: a 2 AM flight, with two layovers. It was the fastest way to get to the Philippines. When I saw them, Sarah had already regained consciousness. The first to rush up was Charlie. “Bad mom! It’s all your fault Ms. Sarah is like this!” “I hate you!” I let his small fists hit me, but my eyes were on Sean. He clearly hadn’t slept all night and was now carefully feeding Sarah water. “Good girl, drink more water, you’ll recover faster.” Sarah looked at me. “Hannah, you actually came. I don’t blame you; it’s my own lack of skill.” “After three days of diving lessons, I still didn’t dare to let go of Sean’s hand. I’m so clumsy.” “Even if you’re clumsy, I’ll take care of you. I’ll never let go of your hand again.” Sean’s eyes were overflowing with tenderness. “I was so scared, I almost lost you forever. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t live either, Sarah.” Sean leaned his head against Sarah’s face. Even though I was used to it, I couldn’t help but get red eyes, touched by their love and saddened by my own fate. The doctor walked in with the test results. “Ms. Harris, blood tests show you’re pregnant, estimated to be six weeks along.” This news hit me like a bomb, my mind going blank. “That’s wonderful!” “Sean, we’re going to have our own baby!” “No!” I rushed forward. “Sean Davies, what did you promise me?!” I looked at Charlie; he didn’t understand what all this meant. “Hannah Davies, do you have a say here?” “Get over here!” Sean dragged me into the hallway. “Sean Davies, you promised me you’d never have children with another woman!” Sean scoffed. “You have my child, why can’t Sarah have one?” “What about Charlie?! Your money, your company, will it go to Charlie or to Sarah’s child?” “Can you be fair to both?!” “I can.” Sean’s tone softened, and I exhaled. “Sean Davies, I don’t want Charlie to turn out like me. Make Sarah get an abortion.” The words had barely left my lips when a slap landed on my face. “No one is going to hurt Sarah again!” My ears buzzed. I saw Sean extend his hand. “Get out! Get out of my sight!” “Sean Davies,” I looked at him. “It’s my birthday today.” “You promised you’d fulfill all my wishes.” “All I know is it’s Sarah’s birthday today!” His eyes were filled with disgust. “I don’t have time to look at your stupid wishes now. Get out, I never want to see you again!” Charlie, hearing the commotion, also rushed out. He mimicked Sean, yelling at me, “Get out! Get out!” But I smiled. “Okay.” “Sean Davies, remember what you said.” I walked out of the hospital, and in the Philippines, I did the last thing I had planned for Sean. Half a month later, Sean received a phone call. “Hello, is this Mr. Davies? This is the Chinese Hospital in the Philippines. It has been confirmed that a deceased person is your wife, Hannah Davies.”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “401581”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • The Ninth Time I Divorced Him

    1 Ben and I were notorious in our social circle as the “Eight-Time Divorcees.” After our ninth remarriage, I reined in my temper, and he settled down. For a time, we became the model couple of our set. At my birthday dinner, he received a call, his face etched with urgency. “Hannah, something urgent needs my attention. I have to go deal with it.” I didn’t mind, continuing to enjoy myself with friends. That is, until my arch-rival, James Forrester, sent me a photo of Ben embracing a woman at the airport. I stared intently at the couple on the screen. I dialed Ben’s number: “Darling, will you be home tonight?” He was silent for a moment before replying, “The situation is a bit complicated. Don’t wait up for me.” After hanging up, I immediately had someone investigate the woman’s identity. … At three in the morning, I stood by the window, looking at Penelope Hayes’ file. All the women he’d kept as mistresses before looked just like her. I smoked one cigarette after another. Our first divorce was because he’d given a deal to a competitor, and I slapped him. The second was when he called out the wrong name while drunk, and I burned down our marital home. The ninth remarriage, at the doors of the registry office. He said, “Hannah Lieberstein, are we insane?” I laughed, tears choking me. Just before dawn, Ben returned, carrying the scent of jasmine. He frowned, snatching the cigarette from my hand: “Smoking again? Who said they were trying to conceive six months ago?” I looked up at him. A year ago, after my parents’ plane crash, he found me, holding me and saying, “I’m here, don’t be afraid.” So I curbed my temper, and he settled down. Now, for his long-lost love, his heart had wandered again. But the word “divorce” caught in my throat. “Ben Morgan, will you cheat again?” He paused, then embraced me from behind: “Talking nonsense again. Who’s been filling your head with stories?” His failure to answer was the best answer. I pulled away from his embrace: “I’m going to the office.” After my parents’ passing, Lieberstein Industries was left in my hands. All morning, I kept a stern face, scolding two ineffective directors. By five in the afternoon, I had finished processing documents. I called Ben: “Dinner at the family estate tonight. Don’t forget.” “Alright.” I arrived at the Morgan family estate on time. But Ben was late. As Mr. Morgan’s face darkened, I calmly dialed Ben’s number. A woman’s voice answered: “Hello, Mr. Morgan is busy. I’m his assistant. If there’s anything, you can tell me.” I paused, stunned. He actually let Penelope answer his phone. He never allowed me to touch his phone, claiming it contained company secrets. Apparently, it wasn’t that no one could touch it; it was just that I wasn’t the exception. I pretended to accidentally press the speakerphone button. Ben’s voice came through the speaker, with the sound of running water in the background. “Penelope, the showerhead’s been replaced, throw the old one away.” Penelope’s tone was so natural. The living room was deathly silent. Mr. Morgan violently smashed his teacup. I lowered my head, my shoulders trembling slightly. When I looked up again, my eyes were appropriately red-rimmed. “Dad, Mom, since Ben’s true love has returned, I’m willing to step aside. I’ll have my lawyer prepare the divorce agreement.” “Nonsense!” Mrs. Morgan interrupted me, coming over to grasp my hand. “The only daughter-in-law of the Morgan family will always be you. As for that… person, and that scoundrel son, the Morgan family will give you an explanation.” That evening, Ben was mercilessly given ten lashes by Mr. Morgan and forced to kneel all night. The next day, Mrs. Morgan personally came to my office, placing two hundred-million-dollar contracts on my desk. She sighed: “Hannah, you’ve been wronged. This is the Morgan family’s compensation.” I took the contracts, smiling meekly: “Mom, let’s not talk business among family.” Mrs. Morgan left, satisfied. But I gripped the contracts tightly. 2 All day, Ben didn’t send a single message. I pushed down the disappointment in my heart. I resumed processing documents. Assistant Miller stood beside me, holding a stack of files, hesitant to speak. “Go on, what’s the bad news now?” “Ms. Lieberstein, Morgan Group has refused to pay the two hundred million dollars for the cooperation, citing a breach of protocol.” I slowly looked up: “Give me the documents.” I drove to the Morgan Group building. I walked to Ben’s private elevator, swiped my card, no response. Tried again, still nothing. Just then, the receptionist, Daisy, hurried over. Her face was flushed with embarrassment and tension: “M-Ma’am, Ms. Hayes said that for the CEO’s security and efficiency, the access permissions were reset last week. Now, only Mr. Morgan and her cards can use this elevator.” “Ms. Hayes?” I raised an eyebrow, my voice calm, “Penelope Hayes?” Daisy lowered her head, not daring to look at me: “Y-yes.” I smiled, gently placing the elevator card back into my bag: “Alright, got it.” I walked to the employee elevator. Upon reaching the top floor, I headed straight for Ben’s office. “Ms. Lieberstein, please stop.” Penelope stood up, blocking my path. “Do you have an appointment? Mr. Morgan is currently…” I directly slapped her across the face. “What are you, get out of my way.” Before she could react, I reached out and pushed open the door. Ben was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, on the phone. Hearing the commotion, he turned around. Seeing it was me, he frowned, hurriedly giving a few instructions into the phone before hanging up. “Hannah, why are you here?” I threw the documents in my hand onto his desk. “Explain.” He picked up the documents and flipped through them. At this moment, Penelope looked at him, her face full of grievance. He frowned slightly, looking at her swollen red cheek. I thought he was going to scold me, but he just gently took my hand. “Hannah, your hand isn’t hurt, is it?” “Ben Morgan, you know me. I’m someone who holds grudges and can’t tolerate any slight.” “Especially on my territory. I don’t want to see her at Morgan Group again.” He was silent for a few seconds, eventually sighing, his tone indulgent: “Alright, I understand. I’ll arrange for her to leave.” As his words fell, Penelope ran out, crying. Ben’s body unconsciously took two steps towards her, then stopped. Watching her retreating figure, he suddenly remembered that rainy night years ago. Penelope had unhesitatingly shielded him from an opponent’s bottle. But later, Mrs. Morgan forcibly sent her away. From then on, she became the untouchable love of his heart. So now, whatever she wanted, he gave. “Come on, let’s go home together.” All the way home, he was distracted. He answered several questions incorrectly. His heart really had wandered again. During dinner, his phone rang repeatedly. Eventually, he answered it. “Alright, I’ll be right there.” He hung up, grabbed his jacket, and left. “Hannah, I’m going back to the office.” After he left, I followed him to the restaurant indicated by his phone’s GPS. My eyes immediately fell upon the intimately entwined pair. Watching their intimate scene, I fiercely dug my nails into my palms. This was the first time I had seen him so passionately, so desirous of another person. Penelope shot me a defiant smile. I took pictures of the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms. Then, I sent the video to Mrs. Morgan and to Ben. [Ben Morgan, let’s get a divorce.] 3 After sending the message, I returned home. I looked at the wedding photos hanging on the wall. I took them down, cut them into pieces, and scattered them on the floor. He returned as I was clearing things away. I handed him the divorce agreement. “Ben Morgan, sign it.” Having said that, I no longer looked at him. I rose to leave, but my vision suddenly went black, and I collapsed to the floor. When I next woke, I was in a hospital. The entire Morgan family was in the room. Mrs. Morgan grabbed my hand: “Hannah, such a big thing as pregnancy, why didn’t you tell us?” My mind instantly went blank—pregnant. The careful counting of days for the past few months, filled with anticipation, now only left a bitter irony. Because of the pregnancy, Ben and I couldn’t finalize the divorce. I heard Penelope had been sent away. He seemed to have returned to the time when we were deeply in love. The night before leaving for Port City, I felt an inexplicable unease and pushed open the door to Ben’s study. He was staring blankly out the window, a long ash accumulating on his cigarette, a habit he adopted when he was troubled. Neither of us spoke. The next day, my arch-rival James Forrester invited me to Port City for a collaboration discussion. I didn’t want to go, but then I remembered Ben was also in Port City. So I agreed. This collaboration with James went unusually smoothly. After signing, he leaned back lazily on the sofa, his phone screen lighting up. He glanced at it, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “Ms. Lieberstein, would you be interested in seeing something interesting? It’s right next door.” “I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.” In the adjoining private room, Ben and Penelope sat in the center. Compliments abounded: “Mr. Morgan and his wife are truly devoted; even in Port City, he doesn’t forget to bring his wife.” I composed myself, then pushed open the door. The laughter and conversation abruptly ceased. Everyone looked at me. My gaze fell on Ben. “What a coincidence. I just finished talking with Mr. Forrester next door. Hearing Mr. Morgan was here, I came to say hello.” I raised my wine glass towards him: “Mr. Morgan, long time no see.” Then I smiled at the others: “Hello everyone, I’m Hannah Lieberstein of Lieberstein Industries. Nice to meet you. Welcome to collaborate with Lieberstein Industries in the future.” I took a small sip of wine, put down my glass: “I won’t disturb you all. I’ll take my leave now.” Penelope stared at my retreating back, fiercely digging her nails into her palms. A slight smirk, however, played on her lips. James laughed softly: “Hannah Lieberstein, you truly haven’t changed. You never concede an inch.” I turned my head and smiled faintly: “Mr. Forrester, you flatter me. It was a pleasure working with you.” After getting into the car, I directly instructed the driver to take me home. On the way, I called my lawyer, Mr. Wright. “Mr. Wright, please draft a divorce agreement for me.” After hanging up, I rubbed my temples. Suddenly, an intense light shone directly at us. The car began to swerve erratically. I gripped the handle tightly. Bang—! My vision blurred in waves. I struggled to open the car door and crawled out. I dialed Ben’s number. “Ben Morgan, I’ve been in…” Before I could finish, Penelope’s voice came through the receiver. Then the call was disconnected. I refused to give up and dialed his number again. It was hung up repeatedly. Rain fell on my face, and I suddenly remembered him saying on our wedding day, “I’ll never hang up on you in this lifetime.” Apparently, vows can expire. Just then, my phone lit up. It was a text message from Penelope. A photo of them passionately kissing. Below it was a single sentence. [Hannah Lieberstein, you lost. He chose to abandon you again.] I gasped for air. The pain in my chest made me ignore the physical pain. I curled up on the ground, my vision beginning to blur, able to see only a figure rushing towards me against the light. “Hannah—!”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “401580”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • Domestic Labor, Paid in Full​

    My son, Oliver, got an allowance of five hundred dollars a month. He thought it was peanuts and racked his brain to get more out of me. He’d charge five bucks for clearing the dishes, ten for making his bed. Even when I had a fever and asked him to run downstairs for some medicine, he’d deadpan: “Ten dollars for the errand, or you can just burn up.” By the end of the month, he presented me with a bill. “Mom, I did a thousand dollars worth of work this month. You owe me.” My husband, Arthur, chuckled, “I should learn from Oliver. I lifted the toilet seat when I went to the bathroom, you owe me ten bucks.” Seeing them genuinely planning to charge me, a stay-at-home mom, for household chores, I spoke calmly. “Alright, from today on, we’ll operate on a ‘pay-for-work’ system in this house.” 1 Oliver was only in middle school, but he spent money like water. All his birthday money went straight to toys. I capped his allowance at five hundred a month, and he threw a huge fit. When he saw I wouldn’t budge, Oliver tried a different approach. “Mom, I took out the trash for you today! You owe me five dollars!” Seeing him willing to help with chores, I was happy and even transferred him an extra five. But two days later, I was laid up with a fever, utterly drained and couldn’t find any medicine. “Oliver, could you please go downstairs and get some fever medicine for Mom? Cough, cough…” Oliver stood still, holding out his hand. “Mom, ten dollars for the errand.” I was stunned. I couldn’t believe my son was demanding money when I was sick. Oliver pressed on, “Pay first, or I’m afraid you’ll back out later!” Seeing that look on his face – the one that screamed “no money, no medicine” – I felt a chill spread through me. Hadn’t I always rushed him to the emergency room the moment he got sick? Every time, I’d be in tears, urging the driver to go faster. My head was spinning so much, I worried I wouldn’t even be able to take the medicine later. I forced myself to reach for my phone, and after several fumbling attempts to unlock it, I scanned his code and paid the ten dollars. Five minutes later, the medicine arrived. Oliver handed it to me. “Mom, need water? Pouring water is cheap, five dollars should cover it.” I looked up at Oliver in disbelief. Who takes medicine without water?! I tried to reason with him, mustering what little strength I had left. “Mom’s really unwell right now. If I don’t take this, I could get seriously sick.” “We can talk about money later…” But Oliver pouted, clearly annoyed. “Why later? Hurry up! Money first, then the goods!” His tone lacked any hint of concern for my illness. My head was heavy, and I didn’t have the strength to transfer money anymore. Just before I blacked out, I used every ounce of my energy to put the fever medicine in my mouth before closing my eyes. After swallowing the medicine, I slept straight through to the next day. When I woke up, Oliver saw my fever was gone and looked utterly disappointed. “Mom is so stingy! She wouldn’t even give me five dollars for the water!” I opened my mouth, only to find it terribly bitter. The fever medicine had dissolved in my mouth, and I still hadn’t had any water. A dull ache throbbed in my head and chest. I slowly sat up and noticed a box of fever medicine in the trash bin. “Did you throw this away?” A flicker of guilt crossed Oliver’s eyes, but he quickly put his hands on his hips. “If I hadn’t thrown it away, you wouldn’t have asked me to buy medicine!” “If you hadn’t asked me to buy medicine, how would I have earned ten dollars for the errand!” “You should just blame yourself for cutting my allowance!” I tried to explain. “Five hundred dollars is enough for your allowance. If there’s anything you want to buy, just tell Mom…” But Oliver shouted, cutting me off. “Five hundred is enough for what?! I told you I wanted to buy a toy, did you buy it for me?” Last month, he wanted to buy a hundred-dollar toy, and I’d refused. Seeing my silence, Oliver sneered, then pulled out a ledger. “I’ve helped you with a lot this month, Mom. You can’t deny it!” I stared blankly at the open bill. [Helped Mom hang laundry: $10.] [Helped Mom clear dishes: $5.] [Helped Mom close the door: $3.] … These were all small tasks, just simple favors, most of them even his own responsibilities. But he’d tallied them all under “helping Mom,” and the total for the month came to a staggering one hundred dollars! Seeing I hadn’t moved, he pressed 911 on his kids’ smartwatch, just short of dialing. “Mom, pay up! Or I’ll call the police! I’ll tell them you’re employing child labor and abusing children!” 2 Click! Arthur opened the door, frowning at the scene. “What’s going on?” Oliver ran over and handed Arthur the ledger. “Dad, I helped Mom with so much this month, and she’s trying to welch on the payment!” Arthur glanced at it, his expression hardening. “Eleanor, that’s out of line. The boy put in the effort, why shouldn’t he get a reward?” His critical tone sent a wave of hurt through me. I told Arthur about the fever medicine, expecting him to scold Oliver. But to my surprise, his voice grew even more impatient. “Is that even worth mentioning? Why are you being so petty as a mother?” He tapped the table, urging me. “Don’t discourage the boy from helping with chores. Besides, you’re a stay-at-home mom. If Oliver does some of your chores, isn’t it only fair you pay him?” I stood frozen, clutching my phone, looking at Arthur helplessly. When it came to raising Oliver, Arthur always loved to contradict me. But I never imagined he’d support me in transferring a hundred dollars to our son. Oliver, hearing his dad side with him, proudly flashed his payment QR code. “Hurry up!” Both of them closed in on me. I tried to protest, “I don’t have that much money…” Arthur stared fixedly at me. “Didn’t I transfer you twelve hundred for groceries yesterday?” My jaw dropped. “Then what about this month’s groceries?!” “Figure it out yourself!” Arthur snatched my phone and, without another word, transferred a hundred dollars to Oliver. Every month, I relied on that twelve hundred to feed the entire family, and it was often barely enough. Now, with only two hundred left, my head spun, and I had no idea what to do. Oliver immediately bought a new toy, gloating at me. “Mom, what good was your refusal? I still bought it!” “Oh, right, Mom, I just put my shoes in the shoe rack. A dollar for my trouble!” My heart clenched. Was I going to have to transfer another hundred dollars to him next month?! Arthur, meanwhile, was lounging with one leg crossed, laughing. “I should learn from my son. I lifted the toilet seat today. You should pay me ten dollars too. If I do that once a day, that’s three hundred a month.” He tipped his chin at Oliver. “Son, write that down. Your mom owes me.” I clenched my fists, barely able to breathe. By their calculations, I’d owe them an extra hundred dollars next month! But I’d been a stay-at-home mom for over a decade. My savings and what little dowry I had were long gone. Where would I get the money? Seeing Oliver diligently jot down another line, I couldn’t take it anymore. I snatched the small notebook. Oliver’s eyes glinted with disdain. He challenged me, “Mom, you’re not going to try to tear it up, are you? I’ve got backups!” I took a deep breath, crumpled the notebook into a ball, then released it. “I won’t tear it.” “You can write this down for me too.” 3 Arthur thought I was joking, but the next morning at breakfast, as he ate, I declared: “Cooking breakfast for Oliver, twenty dollars.” “Getting a bowl for my husband, ten dollars.” “Oliver, remember to write that down.” Oliver stared, bewildered. “Mom, are you serious?” Arthur frowned. “What nonsense are you playing at?” I smiled. “You can’t expect to get paid for chores while I’m free labor, can you?” “You are free labor!” Oliver immediately shouted. “They say a mother’s love is selfless! Charging your son for cooking? Have you no shame?!” Arthur was just as displeased. “How can you, a mother, even say such a thing? Your son came from you; it’s only right you care for him. And I paid twenty thousand dollars for your dowry. You were bought.” Oliver grew even more agitated. “You eat Dad’s food, use Dad’s things, and still dare to demand money?!” My heart sank, utterly. This was the love I’d sacrificed a high-paying job for. This was the marriage I’d painstakingly built for over a decade, and this was my beloved son. The two of them continued to sneer, but I ignored them, pulling out a new notebook and diligently writing down each item. By this calculation, I could earn thirty dollars just in one morning, far more than twelve hundred a month. But Arthur’s face turned completely black. He slammed his bowl to the floor. “This is ridiculous! Charging me for a bowl? I’m not eating!” As he walked out the door, he threw a cold remark over his shoulder. “Keep up this act! I’d be surprised if I give you even a dollar for groceries next month!” After he left, Oliver also headed out for school, but he couldn’t find his shoes in the shoe rack. “Mom! Help me find my shoes!” he cried anxiously. I slowly replied, “Finding shoes, ten dollars.” Oliver’s eyes widened in shock. He huffed indignantly. “Fine! I won’t wear any! I’ll wear my slippers to school!” He stomped on the ledger twice in frustration, not forgetting to yell, “Just idling around the house all day, living off Dad, and still shamelessly demanding money!” He kicked the table, sending food crashing to the floor. “How could I have a mom like you?!” My heart shattered into as many pieces as the broken dishes on the floor. In all these years, there hadn’t been a single day when I was “idling around the house.” On the contrary, to cook meals, I woke up earlier than anyone else. After I finished the housework, they would both be snoring away. Yet, my son thought I was doing nothing. I chuckled self-deprecatingly, wiping away tears from the corners of my eyes. All this, it wasn’t something I had to do! I stepped around the leftover food and followed them out. Since no one valued my labor, thinking it was all just expected, I decided I would find a job to prove my worth. But to my surprise, I searched all morning, and no company would hire me. I’d been a stay-at-home mom for too long; my life had revolved around my son and husband, and I’d been out of touch with society for too long. In the afternoon, Arthur called me, gritting his teeth. “Are you out of your mind? Not even coming home to cook lunch!” I replied calmly, “Order takeout yourself. Or I can come back and make a meal for eighty dollars.” At the mention of money, Arthur immediately swore. “Fine, then never come back!” With that, he slammed down the phone. Before I could even stand up, Arthur sent a text: [If you’re going to be like that, how much rent do you think you owe for living in my house?] My heart plummeted. It felt like a slap across the face. I realized this farce had escalated to an unmanageable point. Thankfully, I had no intention of managing it. I thought for a moment, then a suitable job came to mind. I didn’t return home until evening. Oliver, watching TV, rolled his eyes. “What took you so long? I’m starving!” I said calmly, “What do you want to eat?” Oliver immediately reeled off, “Sweet and sour ribs, braised pork, grilled wings!” “That’ll be eighty-nine dollars.” Oliver froze, his face contorted in anger. “You’re my mom! Why are you charging me to cook my favorite food?!” I found it amusing. “Then why do you charge me for making your own bed?” Oliver’s face flushed. “Because you’re my mom!” He then pinched his nose, looking disgusted at the overturned breakfast table. “It stinks! Can you please clean up that mess before talking to me?!” The morning’s disaster was still untouched, and the oil from the food had seeped into the floor. The house reeked of greasy, sour odors. “Sure, cleaning up will be fifty dollars.” Oliver’s face went white. “Are you doing this on purpose?! Are you trying to get back at me for that hundred dollars?!” He screamed, “This is your duty as a mother!” Just then, Arthur came home from work and frowned at Oliver. “What’s all the shouting about?!” Oliver pointed at me. “She’s being completely unreasonable! Dad! She’s on strike! Cut her allowance, that’ll teach her a lesson!” Arthur loosened his tie, looking annoyed. “Eleanor, are you done with this? If you keep acting up, I’m going to start charging you rent!” Seeing me stand my ground, Arthur sneered. “Two thousand dollars a month for a two-bedroom apartment isn’t unreasonable, is it? For fifteen years, you owe me three hundred and sixty thousand.” He pulled out his payment QR code and shoved it in front of me. “Transfer the money now! Or you can apologize to me and Oliver. After you apologize, cook dinner and clean the house, and no more talk about money!” I looked at his face, veins throbbing with anger, and suddenly I laughed. “Hold on, let’s calculate from the beginning. Let’s also put a price on all the housework I’ve done every day.” Arthur’s face turned completely black.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “401579”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel