After I developed insomnia, I could only fall asleep if I smelled a specific scent. Yet, my boyfriend wanted to break up with me. I begged him: “Can you just sleep with me one more time?” After all, his scent was my sleeping pill. With his arms around two gorgeous women, his tone was impatient: “If you’re sick, go see a doctor!” That very night, his college roommate showed up at my door. “Sister, I’ll sleep with you.” 1 It was 2:00 AM. I don’t know if the begonia flowers were sleeping, but I definitely wasn’t. I had a condition, common and widespread— Insomnia. But this wasn’t your average insomnia. My body chemistry was unique. Ever since I became an adult, I could only fall asleep if I smelled a scent that made me feel secure. The feeling of having incredibly heavy eyelids while your nerves are firing off wildly is pure torture. Today was the third day since Nolan proposed we break up. I was so, so, so sleepy. Unable to hold out, I opened his chat and begged: “Can you just sleep with me one more time?” Nolan’s scent was genuinely wonderful. It was like the rich aroma of a latte mixed with the fresh scent of jasmine. It enveloped me warmly and politely. And it was stronger than any sleeping pill. But the man himself wasn’t nearly as polite. Nolan replied almost instantly: “If you’re sick, go see a doctor! “You pass out the second your head hits the pillow every day. Are you a pig??” I could tell he was furious. I wasn’t a pig. …But I was genuinely sick. The key was, it couldn’t be cured. Then, Nolan sent a photo. Judging by the background, he was at a nightclub. He had his arms wrapped around two beautiful women. “You can’t afford me anymore!!” “…” Ignoring his melodramatic teenage-boy quote, I opened TikTok to search for my next sleeping buddy. If I didn’t sleep for five days straight, I would die. Tonight was already the third night. A direct message popped up. It was from my brother, Matthew. It was a video. A incredibly handsome guy, his shirt soaked in alcohol, was being force-fed more drinks by a crowd of jeering people. My brother: [Utopia Club, Booth 8. Come quick.] Me: [?] My brother: [His scent should be exactly what you’re looking for.] I sprang out of bed like a startled carp. 2 By the time I reached Utopia, it was almost 3:00 AM. The lights were dim and flashing, the music was deafening, and the dance floor was packed with wave after wave of people. Sporting massive dark circles under my eyes, I dodged the disposable couples making out everywhere and found Booth 8. I immediately spotted the man from the video. He was too striking to miss. His features were deep and masculine, his lips a dark, moody shade, his eyes tilted upwards at the corners, radiating an undeniable, aristocratic aura. The ambient club lighting hit his face, adding a layer of seduction. Even thrown into a massive crowd, he would be the one person you’d notice instantly. Right now, his eyelids were slightly lowered, his long eyelashes trembling. He looked like the absolute epitome of someone being bullied to their limit. I knew it was my time to shine. The perfect opportunity for a “beauty saves the hero” moment. I massaged my temples, trying to slightly ease my throbbing headache. Putting on a face that was 30% aloof, 30% arrogant, and 40% careless, I slammed my foot onto the table: “Tonight’s tab is on me! “Can we be friends? “Mind if I take my boyfriend home now?” Everyone looked shocked. The man beside me widened his eyes, his intoxicated pupils filled with disbelief. As the physical distance closed, I caught his scent. It was different from Nolan’s. His scent was cedar mixed with the crisp smell of winter. Cool, clean, and incredibly sleep-inducing. In just a few short seconds, my eyelids actually started to feel heavy. The firing nerves in my brain were soothed and slowly began to calm down. Not even specialized medication worked this fast. The next second, someone from across the booth yelled out: “Sister-in-law??” The people around looked somewhat familiar. They seemed to be my ex-boyfriend’s friends. Scanning the room, I finally noticed a highly familiar figure sitting in the corner— 3 Nolan. He sat silently in the corner, twirling his glass, his expression aloof. He wasn’t participating in the drinking games, and the two beauties from the photo were nowhere to be seen. Sitting beside him, keeping him company, was his childhood friend, Chloe. When Nolan and I were together. She always relied on her “innocent little sister” act, constantly spouting manipulative, passive-aggressive nonsense in front of him. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. I just asked Nolan: “Aren’t you going to say anything to her?” He looked completely unconcerned: “We grew up together. If something was going to happen between us, it would have happened a long time ago. “I just see her as a little sister. Our parents know each other; I can’t be too harsh with her.” Then he frowned at me: “Could you not be so maliciously suspicious?” I stopped talking. Relying on the fact that I couldn’t live without him, he became increasingly reckless with my feelings. On his birthday, I carried a cake I baked myself and a carefully chosen gift to his party. Just as I reached the door of the private room, I unexpectedly heard my name. My hand, reaching for the handle, paused. “Bro, what are you thinking? Why haven’t you broken up with her yet? “Didn’t you say back then you just wanted to see what it was like to date an older girl? Just playing around? What, did you catch real feelings? “Or could it be… the older girl has a unique flavor in bed?” A chorus of sleazy laughter followed. Nolan’s tone was dismissive: “Whether she’s good or not, you can try her out after I’m done with her. “Someone is desperately throwing money at me. I’m just playing along. “Maybe I just have some magical charm. I can’t even chase her away. It’s just so annoying that she makes me sleep with her every single day.” I felt like I had plunged into an ice cavern. I lowered my eyes, pressed my lips together, and left. Magical charm, indeed. Dating him for almost two years, I would have plucked the stars and moon for him. I firmly believed he was “The One,” perfectly aligned with my soul. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. 4 When I was twenty, my insomnia started. Every day, I fell asleep with the help of melatonin and sedatives. Gradually, even the medication stopped working. It wasn’t until the freshman orientation, when I, as a senior, was sent by the department to give advice to the incoming students on planning their four years of college. That day, I smelled something different. The fresh scent of jasmine. Mixed with the aroma of coffee. I can’t describe the feeling. It just felt like my entire body was wrapped in clouds, soft and fluffy. Without realizing it, my eyelids started to droop. When it was my turn to take the stage, I forced myself to stay awake and shared my advice with the underclassmen. But my eyes scoured the vibrant faces below the podium. Finally locking onto the very last row. The rich scent was emanating from there. But there were too many people, and the smells were mixed. I couldn’t pinpoint the specific target yet. After the session ended, I waited by the door. Until the very last person walked out— That night, my brother gathered all the information on him. Nolan, 18 years old, a freshman in the Physics department, 6 feet tall, 155 lbs, single. The report even detailed his family background, upbringing, and dietary habits. I read it over and over, but couldn’t find anything special about him. Yet this was the person who possessed that unique scent. A scent no one else could smell but me. That night, I went to a coffee shop and bought a latte, then went to a florist and bought jasmine, trying to recreate that unique fragrance. After all that effort, my mind was only more stimulated, completely devoid of sleepiness. The next day, I paid a top-tier perfumer to create a custom scent, but it was absolutely useless. I accepted my fate. And so, I launched a fierce pursuit of Nolan. Limited edition sneakers, expensive in-game skins… I showered him with gifts like running water. A month later, we made it official. My attitude toward relationships has always been straightforward: either don’t start one, or take it seriously. Clearly, in this relationship, I was the only one taking it seriously. 5 The club was chaotic, a mix of all sorts of people. Unless I got close, I couldn’t smell Nolan clearly. Besides, I had a “sleeping pill” radiating its scent right next to me. He looked up, staring straight at me. Our eyes met. My eyelids felt heavy. I was the first to look away. Since everything was out in the open, and I had a new sleeping buddy. There was no need for me to hang myself on this one tree. I grabbed the handsome guy’s hand, turned around, and prepared to leave. “Maya—” Nolan called my name. The atmosphere was tense and explosive. Everyone turned to look. I paused for a second but didn’t look back. My sleeping pill was right beside me. I just wanted to sleep. Nolan’s gaze fell on my hand holding someone else’s. He frowned, his face looking awful: “What is the meaning of this? “Do you think doing this will make me want to get back together with you?” The next second, his expression turned icy: “Save it.” I thought he was acting completely bizarre. I had a new sleeping buddy. Why would I care about him? “You’re overthinking it. “Where do you get your confidence? Do you think I have that much free time? “I’m genuinely pursuing him.” Hearing this, Nolan stood up. His face looked even worse, his jaw tight, speaking through gritted teeth: “He’s my roommate!!!” “…” Well, if you put it that way, I guess I am being a little bizarre. I looked in shock and uncertainty at the person beside me, who was obediently letting me hold his hand. Noticing my gaze, he paused for a moment, then slowly nodded. And rubbed his nose, looking a little guilty. Regardless, in front of an ex-boyfriend, you can’t lose the verbal battle. “So what if he’s your roommate? “The dark ages are over. We advocate for free love now. Even if he was your dad, I could date him!” The guy next to me nodded, seeming to agree completely, and immediately echoed: “Yeah, free love! Even if I was your dad, she could date me!” Nolan stood in silence, his jaw tight. I thought about it for a second; that didn’t sound quite right. After a brief pause, I added: “Of course, I wouldn’t cross that moral line.” The guy next to me repeated: “Of course, wouldn’t cross that moral line!” His parroting made me accidentally let out a small laugh. Nolan’s face was livid, his eyes dark as he glared at us. A few seconds later, he suddenly laughed out loud. Nolan shifted his gaze to the person beside me: “Asher, she’s my ex-girlfriend. She was so obsessed with me she practically begged to sleep with me every single day.” He pulled out his phone, pulled up our chat history, and showed everyone: “Just a minute ago, she was begging me to sleep with her one more time.” In the chat window, my pleading words were exposed for everyone to see. The looks directed at me were laced with malice. “Asher, she’s just using you to get back at me. Are you sure you want to go with her?” My heart clenched, and my grip tightened. I looked at the person beside me. 6 My newly calmed nerves spiked with anxiety once again. Quietly waiting for his answer. He looked at Nolan, then looked at my hand gripping his tightly. Everyone around us held their breath, watching the scene unfold. He lowered his gaze to my face and said slowly: “Unless I’m mistaken… this is the first time we’ve ever met, right?” Nolan let out a sigh of relief. It made sense. Ditching your roommate to leave with your roommate’s ex-girlfriend was definitely crazy. I started calculating in my head whether I should have my brother throw a sack over his head and drag him to my bed, or if I should just knock him out and carry him away myself. The next instant, my pinky finger was gently hooked. He blinked, the corners of his mouth curving up. A huge, dazzling smile appeared on his handsome face as he said— “Okay. “I’m sure I want to go with her!” ??! Nolan stopped breathing for a second. He looked like he had worked himself to death all day, only to come home and find out he was being cheated on—a completely foul expression. He couldn’t believe it: “Asher??” This time, no one tried to stop us. I shot a careless glance at Nolan. Holding Asher’s hand, I held my head high and walked right past him. Before leaving, I didn’t forget to let out a cold snort in his direction. Then I remembered myself just moments ago, begging my ex-boyfriend to sleep with me. I couldn’t help but mentally spit on myself twice. How can a person have so little backbone?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391852”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my ex-boyfriend dumped me for a master manipulator, I furiously hunted her down. She was fully made up, cowering and begging me not to hit her in the face. I slapped my hands together in a pleading gesture: “Sister, what kind of dark magic did you use to make that cheapskate buy you designer bags and clothes, when I couldn’t even get him to buy me a cup of boba tea?!” She let out a long sigh of relief and proceeded to teach me exactly how to hook a wealthy “sucker.” Later, I brought a man to her to show off my homework. She stuttered, “B-brother? You’re the sucker?!” 1 Lately, my best friend and designated dating strategist had descended into a state of severe cognitive dissonance. She would exhibit two violently contradictory attitudes toward the exact same behavior. It all started when she and I simultaneously entered the “dating” phase of our lives. My boyfriend’s name was Arthur Sterling. He was shy, introverted, gentle, and incredibly rational. I had never met Chloe’s brother, but based on her descriptions, he was a stingy, short-tempered, absolute idiot. Chloe was currently incredibly annoyed. Her foolish—but undeniably wealthy—brother had been ensnared by a highly skilled gold digger. “Can you believe this? That woman literally just sends my brother links and demands he buy her gifts.” When I saw that message, my eyes went wide. Because just two days ago, for my birthday, I had asked Chloe for advice. She had specifically instructed me to just send my boyfriend links and demand gifts. Me: “Uh… Chloe, but that’s exactly what I did.” Chloe replied instantly: “Sister, how can you possibly compare yourself to that scheming bitch?” I stared at my phone screen, genuinely questioning where Chloe’s moral compass actually pointed. Then came Valentine’s Day. Arthur and I were out on a date, and Chloe started aggressively spamming my WeChat. “You’ve only been dating for three months! Do NOT spend the night with him!” “I’m begging you! If you do, it’s all over! AHHHHH!” My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Arthur looked down, gripping his knife and fork. The sound of him cutting his steak suddenly seemed incredibly loud and grating. On Valentine’s night, getting relentlessly bombarded with messages while on a date made it look exactly like I was juggling multiple guys. I frantically tried to explain: “It’s a female friend! She might have an emergency, she needs me to go back and help her.” Under Arthur’s scrutinizing, analytical gaze, I awkwardly grabbed my phone and practically sprinted away from the terrace restaurant. As I speed-walked, I sent Chloe a voice memo: “Baby, I promise, I am sleeping in my dorm tonight. I’ll video call you later, okay?” Just as Arthur drove past me, he happened to hear me say that. His hands froze on the steering wheel. His expression wasn’t great, but he managed to keep his emotions relatively stable. “I’ll drive you back.” A few days later, Chloe came to me with more gossip. “Oh my god, my brother is so pathetic. He spent a fortune on that woman, and she actually cheated on him on Valentine’s Day.” “Her game is terrifyingly advanced. She scams them for their money and their hearts, but she never actually sleeps with them.” I stared at my phone, letting out a long, heavy sigh. I had absolutely zero interest in Chloe’s unlucky brother. I was much more concerned with my own disastrous situation. “Chloe, ever since you made me go back on Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend has completely ignored me.” Chloe sent a shocked reaction sticker: “Tsk. A man like that is absolute trash.” She launched into a creative tirade, explaining how typical it was for men to expect women to throw themselves at them, and then throw a tantrum when they don’t get what they want. “Dump him immediately. The next one will be more obedient.” Huh? Dump him just like that? We hadn’t even been dating for that long! 2 The only reason I even knew someone like Chloe existed was entirely thanks to my ex-boyfriend, Liam. When Liam and I dated, he insisted on splitting the bill for everything—even two cups of boba tea. My friends constantly mocked me for being hopelessly, blindly in love. Right as I was finally preparing to dump him, he beat me to the punch and initiated the breakup. He claimed he had found “true love.” That true love was Chloe. I heard he bought Chloe designer bags, expensive clothes, and even maxed out his credit cards to buy her a Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet. Liam broke up with me because Chloe firmly stated she refused to be pursued by a man who already had a girlfriend. Bad news travels fast. I quickly became the biggest laughingstock on campus. That little master manipulator, Chloe, had delivered a fatal, humiliating blow. Furious, I tracked Chloe down at a nightclub. She was leaning toward the bathroom mirror, touching up her makeup. She was wearing a full Chanel suit, radiating the scent of expensive camellia perfume. Even her hair looked impeccably, meticulously styled. She looked incredibly expensive. “Sister, I’m Liam’s ex-girlfriend.” Chloe frowned slightly, thinking for a long moment before it finally clicked. She parted her lips slightly: “Oh, you mean that grad student from University A?” She turned off the faucet, looking straight into the mirror without even glancing at me, and asked lazily what I wanted. I didn’t say a word. I just slowly walked toward her. Chloe was petite and delicate. If a physical fight broke out, she definitely wouldn’t stand a chance against me. She backed into the corner, covering her face with her hands, slowly sliding down the wall. “Sister, I swear I didn’t lead him on! If you’re going to hit me, please don’t hit my face!” Uh… why was she so easily terrified? I grabbed her arm and yanked her up. She stood frozen against the wall for a second. I slapped my hands together in a pleading gesture, looking at her with desperate, puppy-dog eyes. “Sister, what kind of dark magic did you use to make that cheapskate buy you designer bags and clothes, when I couldn’t even get him to buy me a cup of boba tea?!” Chloe bent over, letting out a massive sigh of relief: “Sister! Why didn’t you just say so?! Is that all this is about?!” “Waaaaah, I seriously want to know so badly!” 3 Chloe and I instantly clicked, bonding over our mutual frustration. She held nothing back, teaching me everything she knew. She said this kind of thing required intuition; it couldn’t just be explained with words. But since I was her very first disciple, she promised to provide full, hands-on guidance. She told me to go find an experimental subject first. “Sister, are there any specific requirements for this experimental subject?” A confident smirk curled Chloe’s lips. She shook her head mysteriously: “Just make sure he’s handsome. The more handsome, the better.” It’s that simple?! I added Chloe on WeChat and decided to head back and hunt for a suitable subject. The moment I walked out the door, I spotted the perfect candidate. A man stepped out of a car. He was tall, lean, and radiated an aura of aloof impatience. Seeing him from a distance, Chloe’s voice immediately echoed in my head: The more handsome, the better. This was clearly a gift from the heavens. I sprinted over and blocked his path. “Brother, can I get your WeChat?” Hearing me call him “brother,” the man’s brow immediately furrowed in deep annoyance. He flatly stated he didn’t use WeChat and tried to walk past me. I quickly grabbed his arm. I couldn’t let him escape! “Well, I see you have a mouth. Can we make out then?” I tried my absolute best to force an innocent, harmless smile. His eyes widened in absolute shock, clearly wondering if he was hallucinating: “Uh… I do have WeChat. You can add me.” He seemed to be in a rush. While repeatedly apologizing, I dutifully scanned his QR code and added him. He actually found my flustered apologies amusing: “It’s fine. Take your time.” He was surprisingly gentle. I couldn’t stop myself from blushing, my head spinning slightly. Getting a handsome guy’s WeChat was step one. That night, I started chatting with him. “Hi. Did you have fun today?” After a very long time, he finally replied. “I wasn’t there to have fun. I was looking for my sister.” The silence in my room was deafening. This guy seemed like a complete creep. I mean, honesty is great, but generally speaking, it’s advised not to be that blatant about looking for a hookup. But I replied instantly anyway. “So, did you find her?” “Of course I found her. I even brought her home.” I hesitated for exactly three seconds before blocking him. This one was a dud. All style, absolutely zero substance. 4 The next day, I ran into this handsome creep right at the gates of my university. He stood there in a fully tailored suit, sticking out like a sore thumb among the sea of college students. Girls walking by kept stealing glances at him, but he seemed completely oblivious to their stares, muttering constantly to himself. “Remember, I was looking for my actual sister, not a ‘sister’.” (T/N: In Chinese slang, “sister” or “meimei” can mean a young woman one is casually dating or hooking up with, similar to “baby” or “shawty”.) When he spotted me in the crowd, I immediately turned to run, but he sprinted over and blocked my path. “I’m sorry. I phrased it poorly yesterday. I was looking for my actual, biological sister. We share the same parents.” He tapped his phone screen, pulling up our chat history. “You blocked me. I thought about it for a long time, and I even asked my sister. She told me you probably misunderstood. Can you please unblock me now?” I stared at him blankly, pulled out my phone, and removed him from my block list. His eyes lit up slightly. He reminded me to keep in touch, and then turned to leave. I was speechless. He came to my campus first thing in the morning just to demand I unblock him so we could ‘keep in touch’? I called out to him: “Um, it’s lunchtime. Do you want to grab something to eat?” I suddenly realized I didn’t even know his name. “I’m Mia. What’s your name?” “Arthur Sterling.” Arthur had seen the background photo on my WeChat profile, which happened to be the iconic landmark of University A. Arthur intended to take me out to eat, asking if I preferred Japanese, Korean, Thai, or Chinese cuisine. I took him to a cheap hotpot joint. Chloe had specifically taught me: Take rich guys to eat cheap food, and take broke guys to eat expensive food. The key is providing a highly differentiated experience. Based on Arthur’s outfit, he definitely wasn’t broke. I ordered a super spicy beef tallow broth and looked at Arthur expectantly. He pressed his lips together tightly, then looked back at me. Under my eager gaze, he carefully used his chopsticks to pick up a single slice of meat, rinsed it three times in a glass of plain water, took one bite, and instantly started coughing uncontrollably. I had no idea he couldn’t handle spicy food. I watched helplessly as he coughed so hard he triggered a severe stomach cramp, and I ended up having to rush him to the hospital. While I was at the nurses’ station paying Arthur’s medical bill, I unexpectedly ran into Chloe. Her brother happened to be hospitalized here too. Chloe asked me conspiratorially: “Wasn’t that guy from last time a total creep? My brother is currently single. Want me to introduce him to you so you can practice?” Who sets their own brother up like that?! And why did she call it ‘practice’?! Chloe sighed helplessly: “My brother is an absolute idiot with way too much money, he’s just a bit on the older side. But he’s still a prime target. Better to let you benefit than some random stranger.” I declined Chloe’s offer: “Never mind. That handsome guy from before wasn’t a creep; it was just a misunderstanding on my end.” Chloe looked deeply confused: “How do you ‘misunderstand’ someone being a creep? Is your brain malfunctioning again?” “Sister, I really feel like this one is different.” After all, even when Arthur was clutching his stomach in absolute agony, he still aggressively insisted on paying the hotpot bill before we left. Chloe severely criticized my judgment, then demanded I take her to see this supposed creep. “Mia, you are completely hopeless. I need to see what kind of guy has you this mesmerized.” I sighed. “Shouldn’t you go check on your brother first?” Chloe smiled and gestured for me to lead the way: “It’s a chronic issue; he won’t die. Your situation is much more urgent. Lead the way.” Unable to argue with Chloe, I led her to Arthur’s room. “Just take a quick look from a distance. Don’t scare him; he’s very introverted.” “Mia, feeling sorry for a man is the quickest way to guarantee a lifetime of misery.” I brought Chloe to the door of the hospital room. She peeked her head in to look. Suddenly, she gasped: “Holy shit! I see my brother!” 5 Chloe immediately ducked out of sight in a panic. I was intensely curious about what her brother looked like, but there were four people in the shared room. Which one was her brother? Arthur was sitting on his hospital bed, clutching a thermos, quietly drinking water. Ah, he’s so cute. Meanwhile, Chloe was crouching on the floor, muttering: “What is wrong with him? Why is he staying in a shared room?” Hearing that, I looked at the patient in the bed furthest inside. He looked significantly older and was loudly complaining and expressing his intense dissatisfaction. His yelling even startled Arthur in the adjacent bed, making him look visibly uncomfortable and anxious. I glanced down at Chloe: “Aren’t you going to go in and calm your brother down? He seems incredibly irritable.” “You think he’s irritable too, right? If I go in there, I’m just asking to get yelled at. Let’s just pretend I was never here.” Chloe wanted to bolt, but I wasn’t about to leave. I rolled up my sleeves, fully prepared to go teach her brother a lesson in basic human decency. Chloe whispered frantically: “Don’t, don’t! My brother absolutely despises it when people create loud noises in public spaces!” Excuse me? He has the audacity to complain about that?! What a hypocrite! I raised my foot, kicked the door open, and marched right in. Chloe’s face drained of color. She let out a tiny shriek and sprinted away in absolute terror. I pointed directly at the older man: “You! Yeah, you! If you don’t like shared rooms, go pay for a private suite! What the hell are you yelling about?! Everyone else can handle it, why can’t you?!” Dead silence fell over the room. After a long pause, the man muttered weakly: “I wasn’t yelling… my IV infiltrated and the vein swelled up. I was trying to call the nurse.” Arthur was staring at me in absolute shock. Actually, everyone in the room was staring at me in absolute shock. Well, this was incredibly awkward. I blame the hospital doors for being too soundproof. I pressed my lips together, forcing a painfully awkward smile, and took large strides toward the man’s bed. He looked terrified and scooted backward. I reached out and pressed the call button above his bed. “It’s fine, sir. Just press this button next time.” The man swallowed hard, pulled his blanket up to hide his face, and mumbled: “Thank you.” I turned around. SWISH! Every single patient violently yanked their privacy curtains shut. Except Arthur. I looked at him. He hesitantly held up his thermos: “You must be thirsty. Do you want some water?” I wanted to cry. I took a few deep breaths: “I am so sorry. I misunderstood the situation. I thought he was complaining about being in a shared room…” Arthur looked incredibly uneasy, avoiding my gaze: “I don’t think anyone is going to dare complain about anything anymore.” I sighed, took the thermos from him, and took a sip. Arthur’s hand holding his paper cup froze mid-air. I immediately started coughing violently. 6 Ever since the hospital incident, things between Arthur and me had become even more awkward. There was absolutely zero romantic tension. But he definitely had some level of interest in me. In the chaotic, noisy food street near the university, Arthur sat across from me, eating his noodles with elegant, aristocratic restraint. This was already the third time this week he had come to find me for lunch. And it was only Wednesday. He came every single day, but he barely spoke. The few sentences we exchanged proved we had absolutely nothing in common, and our tastes in food were entirely opposite. But he was wealthy, handsome, and we were a perfect match. I sighed internally. It was just so incredibly difficult to make any progress. Suddenly, someone pushed open the door, marched directly over to our table, and slammed two cups of boba tea down in front of us. I looked up from my noodle bowl in complete shock. It was my recently acquired ex-boyfriend, Liam. I immediately started coughing violently. Does anyone understand the lethal, agonizing level of second-hand embarrassment I was experiencing?! Liam was the type of ex who made you feel profound, intense shame for ever having dated him. Before Liam could even open his mouth, I grabbed him and sprinted wildly toward the door. Arthur froze, frowning slightly. I peaked back to check Arthur’s reaction, while Liam spoke up beside me: “Mia, let’s get back together.” I waved my hands frantically: “Absolutely not necessary. If you never show your face in front of me again, I’ll be eternally grateful. You don’t need to feel guilty; it was an amicable breakup. If there’s nothing else, please leave.” Liam followed my gaze and saw Arthur, immaculately dressed in a tailored suit, paying the bill at the counter. He let out a cold scoff: “Mia, the second you broke up with me, you immediately found a rich guy, didn’t you? You never actually loved me. You just hated that I didn’t have the money to buy you expensive gifts. Pretending to be a good girlfriend must have been exhausting for you, huh?” It was glaringly obvious. Liam had failed to win Chloe over and was now trying to crawl back to me. Normally, I wouldn’t waste a single second engaging with him, but his passive-aggressive tone, combined with him aggressively playing the victim, instantly ignited my temper. “Liam, I gave you an easy out, and you’re refusing to take it, huh?! What the hell are you pretending to be so noble for?! You liked Chloe! Why don’t you admit it was because you liked her money?! Look at yourself! Stop acting like you’re the victim here! I didn’t like you because you’re a massive, hypocritical cheapskate! When we were dating, you insisted on splitting the bill for two cups of boba tea, and we had to take turns paying for meals! Do you honestly think everyone else is an idiot?!” “So what?! You agreed to it! I didn’t force you! At the end of the day, my only ‘crime’ is not having money, right?! The only reason you’re sitting here keeping this guy company is because he’s rich!” Liam was descending into a state of impotent, pathetic rage. I immediately fired back: “Tsk, tsk, getting defensive? I love rich guys! And it’s absolutely none of your fucking business!” Arthur happened to walk out the door at the exact moment I shouted that. His footsteps faltered, his expression growing thoughtful. Liam looked incredibly smug: “Well, now you have to explain yourself to your personal ATM.” Crap. I’m doomed. Arthur and I had barely just started to establish a connection, and his impression of me was tanking lower and lower. We walked down the tree-lined path in complete silence. Arthur kept glancing at me, clearly wanting to say something. I accepted my fate: “Mr. Sterling, if you have something to say, just say it.” “Do you… truly love wealthy men? Approximately what net worth are we talking about? Do you have specific requirements? Could you elaborate on your criteria for a partner?” I genuinely thought I was hallucinating. I stared at him blankly. What the hell did he mean? Arthur’s eyes darted away, looking completely out of his depth: “I’m not astronomically wealthy, but I have a decent amount. I was wondering if I… fall within your range of consideration?” This time, I understood perfectly. He was utilizing an incredibly bizarre method of confessing his feelings. Or, more accurately, engaging in a very formal courtship ritual. I had never experienced anything like this. If I told him I didn’t actually care about money right now, it would probably break his heart. “Uh… I think… your net worth is exactly perfect.” God knows what his actual net worth is, because I was 100% focused entirely on his face. Arthur’s eyes lit up brightly: “So, does this mean we’re officially in a relationship?” I cupped my cheeks, nodding twice rapidly, my face burning bright red. He is so incredibly cute. Ah—I’m literally dying.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391851”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was tangled up with Arthur for seven years, only for him to fall in love with my adopted sister. Exhausted, I finally gave up and decided to be with Liam, the man who had been relentlessly pursuing me. Liam loved me to the bone. He got into fights for me, street raced for me, crawled up the steps of a holy mountain on his knees to pray for my health, and even won the world’s only “Heart of the Ocean” necklace at auction just to give it to me. But, seven days before our wedding, I overheard someone ask him: “Liam, you don’t even love Chloe. Why put on this fake act? Why sacrifice your whole life to marry her?” Liam’s face was hidden in the shadows. He toyed with the ring in his hand, his tone freezing cold: “As long as I’m alive, I will never allow Chloe to hurt Mia.” Mia. The name of my adopted sister. With a trembling hand, I answered the call from my professor and finally agreed to go abroad for further studies. Later, I heard the wedding was a complete disaster. Arthur and Liam got into a vicious brawl, all just to find the whereabouts of the runaway bride. 1 When I stood outside the doors of that bar, it felt like all the air had been sucked from my lungs. If I hadn’t heard Liam say those words with my own two ears… I would never have believed that his love for me was nothing but a massive, elaborate lie. “But Liam, you’ve loved Mia silently for so long. Are you really content just being her secret knight in shining armor?” “My feelings for Mia have nothing to do with her.” “You insisted on getting married on the exact same day as Arthur… is it because you’re afraid Chloe will try to steal her sister’s man?” “Every time I look at Mia, my heart skips a beat. I’m terrified Chloe hasn’t let go of her past with him either. “She and Arthur were tangled up for years. Even though she gave me her first time and gave up her career for me, it’s far from enough. “The only way to truly protect Mia is to keep Chloe tied to my side forever, like a dog.” Not long ago, Liam rented an entire luxury cruise ship just to propose to me. He knelt on the deck, kissed my hand, and cried uncontrollably. He almost passed out from the overwhelming emotion. I thought he loved me so deeply that he was overcome with gratitude that our five-year relationship was finally resulting in marriage. I was wrong. He was celebrating the fact that he had finally locked me in a cage, ensuring I could never hurt Mia ever again. It’s hard to describe exactly how I felt in that moment. After what felt like an eternity, I clutched my agonizingly painful chest and stumbled out into the torrential rain. 2 Liam didn’t get home until midnight. Taking off his coat, he walked over to the bed and found me lying there, completely soaked, burning with a fever. “Baby, when did you go out? Your fever is so high!” I was shivering violently from the cold. My jaw was clamped shut. I couldn’t make a single sound. It was an acute stress reaction triggered by the shock of betrayal and deception. Liam was terrified: “Chloe, stop biting your lip so hard, it’s bleeding.” Without hesitation, he shoved his index finger into my mouth, his face a mask of pure terror and concern. The memory violently dragged me back to that year. My parents, prioritizing Mia, had abandoned me in the mountains. I fell off a cliff and almost lost my life. Liam braved a torrential storm, kneeling and bowing every three steps, crawling all the way up a holy mountain just to pray for my recovery. Seeing his forehead covered in bloody gashes, his knees scraped raw, and his severe limp… I let go of the resentment I held toward my parents and Mia, and agreed to be with him. But tonight, I heard Liam tell his friends: “Back then, I crawled up that mountain step by step to show God my absolute sincerity, begging Him to heal Mia’s heart condition. “Chloe just got lucky and survived her fall.” I used every ounce of strength I possessed to viciously bite down on Liam’s long, slender finger. The thick, metallic taste of blood instantly filled my mouth. Liam didn’t pull away. He acted as if he couldn’t feel the pain, looking at me with frantic anxiety: “Chloe, bite harder. Just please don’t hurt yourself. I’d gladly lose a finger for you.” I still let go. His blood was too filthy. 3 Liam rushed me to the hospital overnight. He held my hand, staying by my bedside for the entire night. How touching! I heard the young nurses whispering to each other: “Mr. Sterling loves his fiancée so much! He hasn’t closed his eyes all night just to take care of her.” In the eyes of the public, the heir to the Sterling empire was aloof, arrogant, and entirely uninterested in women. Only I knew the truth. He was worried. Worried that if I couldn’t attend the wedding as planned, it would introduce a variable into Mia’s perfect happiness. Seeing me wake up, Liam carefully fed me porridge, spoon by spoon. His bitten finger was wrapped in thick layers of gauze. Yet, his only concern was me: “Chloe, I wish I could take this sickness from you. Please, get better quickly, for me. Can you do that?” I swallowed the porridge expressionlessly. Suddenly realizing that this would be our last breakfast together. Countless sorrows fluttered wildly in my subconscious. I wanted to scream, to tear things apart, to demand answers. The old Liam used to stand just one step away, patiently waiting for me to even look at him. He would go out in the middle of the night to buy my favorite spicy crawfish, beat up the thugs who bullied me, and bring me warm brown sugar water when I had my period. Slowly but surely, I had fallen into the trap of his indulgent devotion. Only to discover overnight… That he was merely using the illusion of true love to lock me inside a prison of romance. I finally broke down and cried. Liam frantically pulled me into his embrace, wiping away my tears: “Chloe, does it hurt a lot? I’ll get the doctor.” He pulled out his phone. A message popped up, and his face drastically changed. “Chloe, there’s an emergency at the company. Take your medicine and get some sleep. I’ll be right back to stay with you.” Before I could even speak. He pushed the door open and rushed out. 4 I stared quietly at my phone. Mia had just posted a status: “My heart feels a little uncomfortable.” The background was a stark white hospital room. Thinking of how Liam looked like his soul had left his body when he rushed out, a sharp pain pierced my heart. My phone buzzed with a succession of provocative messages from Mia: [Sister, Arthur managed to snatch your favorite wedding dress for me.] [Mom and Dad managed to secure the church you wanted for your wedding for me instead.] [And that “Heart of the Ocean” necklace up for auction? Guess if my dear brother-in-law will deliver it right into my hands?] A woman’s intuition is a strange thing. When trapped in the maze of love, it seems to completely fail. But the moment she wakes up, all the clues become glaringly obvious. Over these past few years, the businesses of the Vance and Arthur’s families had been completely surpassed by Liam, who had ridden the wave of the AI boom. His progress was astronomical. Yet, whenever something of mine was snatched away, Liam always feigned helplessness: “That Arthur is too cunning. Don’t worry, Chloe, I’ll find you an even more beautiful wedding dress.” “Your parents are too biased. I will definitely convince them to attend our wedding.” With the power he wielded now, it wasn’t that he couldn’t compete. It was clearly that he couldn’t bear to see Mia sad. 5 The sky was a dull, hazy grey. I walked toward the VIP hospital room. When I was nine, I was kidnapped by our nanny and sold into a remote, mountainous region. Three years later, I was rescued and brought home. There wasn’t a single patch of unbruised skin on my entire body. When my mom saw me, she was so heartbroken she wanted to rush forward and hug me. But standing next to her was a new daughter she had adopted. Mia was terrified by my scars, crying even harder than I was. My mom panicked, hugged Mia tightly, and turned to say to me: “Chloe, Mia’s heart isn’t very strong. The doctor said she can’t be subjected to any shock. We’re going to take her home first.” Arthur, who had rushed over to see me, gave me a quick glance and then left with them. Only Mia looked back, giving me a triumphant, victorious smile. 6 I stood at the door of the hospital room. My mom was feeding Mia an apple, saying affectionately: “Mia, Chloe is just spoiled, that’s why she insisted on having her wedding on the same day as yours.” My dad was furious: “Don’t worry. Your mother and I are only preparing a dowry for you, and we will only attend your wedding!” Their tone—so full of disgust for their biological daughter and fierce protectiveness over their adopted one—made my stomach churn. I felt like throwing up. Mia tugged on Liam’s sleeve: “Sister is so willful. It must be so exhausting for you, Liam.” Suddenly, she clutched her chest in pain. Liam’s face instantly went pale: “Mia, is your heart hurting? I’ll find the best specialists abroad for you.” “It’s nothing. I just had a dream last night… I dreamt that if I wore the ‘Heart of the Ocean,’ my illness would be cured.” He didn’t hesitate for a second: “Mia, if you like it, I’ll get it for you immediately.” My parents looked at him with immense gratitude. “It’s our fault for spoiling Chloe too much in the past. She’s always trying to steal Mia’s things.” My heart felt numb beyond measure. When someone doesn’t love you, even your breathing is a sin. What does twisting the truth even matter to them? 7 Mia sent me a photo. She was wearing the blue sapphire “Heart of the Ocean” that Liam had supposedly won at auction for me. I clenched my jaw tight, fighting desperately to stop the burning sting in my eyes from spreading. Liam had told me: “Chloe, there is only one of these necklaces in the entire world. It represents my unwavering, eternal love for you.” His blatant favoritism had once made me so intoxicated I couldn’t extricate myself. Only to wake up one morning and realize it had been a scam from the very beginning. In the adult world, does everything just come down to who’s the better actor? I covered my mouth, swallowing the bitter taste of a broken heart. When I lowered my hand, my face was wet with tears. When my professor called, I almost dropped my phone. I promised him: “In seven days, I will book a flight and leave.” The hospital room door was violently pushed open. A man’s anxious voice rang out: “Chloe, where are you going?” Seeing who it was, the heart that had been in my throat finally relaxed. It wasn’t Liam. I spoke coldly: “Arthur, starting five years ago, you lost the right to ask about anything I do.” 8 Silence consumed Arthur tonight. His mother and my mother were best friends, and they had arranged our marriage when we were babies. Growing up, I loved following behind my “big brother Arthur.” And he always took good care of me. My first lipstick, my first pair of sparkly high heels, my first Chanel bag—they were all gifts from Arthur. Growing up to be his bride became my most cherished dream. But during the three years I was kidnapped. My dad brought Mia home from outside. She looked about thirty percent like me. Arthur’s disappointment, my mom’s grief, my dad’s overwhelming stress… All of it was perfectly filled by this pitiful little orphan. There was no place for me in that house anymore. It took all my strength just to keep myself from drowning in the pain. Arthur had been watching my face closely, and said indignantly: “Liam actually gave the ‘Heart of the Ocean’ to Mia! “Do you have any idea what that means?!” Of course I did. Where the heart longs to be, that is home. Seeing my lack of reaction, Arthur simply couldn’t believe it: “Liam’s heart isn’t with you, and you still want to marry him?!” He was incredibly agitated. I suddenly felt utterly exhausted: “Arthur, Liam isn’t the first person to abandon me for Mia.” First it was my parents, then the fiancé I had loved since childhood. If I had to fight for every single one of them, could I even win? Arthur’s face turned deathly pale. He himself didn’t even know why he had come to tell me this. Perhaps Mia’s ecstatic joy upon receiving the necklace made him uncomfortable. Perhaps the Sterling family’s growing power, which made my father treat Liam with increasing reverence, gave him a sense of crisis. But it was more likely that he had finally tasted what it felt like for me to be neglected. Only then did he realize that the little girl who used to follow him everywhere had probably suffered a great deal. For a moment, Arthur didn’t know what to say. 9 When Liam saw Arthur sitting by my hospital bed, his face drastically changed: “What are you two doing?” Arthur clenched his fists, unwilling to speak. I said flatly: “He came to deliver the news that you gave the ‘Heart of the Ocean’ to Mia.” Arthur looked at me, his expression full of hurt. He couldn’t believe that the little girl who used to fiercely protect him was now stripping away the pride he refused to lower, laying it bare in front of his rival. It made him feel like I truly, completely didn’t care about him anymore. Liam glared viciously at Arthur. Once Arthur left, he hugged me tightly, explaining frantically: “Chloe, it’s not what you think! “Mia is your sister, and your parents are really worried about her health. “Her heart condition acted up, and she begged me to give her the ‘Heart of the Ocean’ as a talisman. “It’s exactly the same as when I crawled up the mountain to get that peace amulet for you.” I remained completely silent. Liam started swearing and making promises: “If you like it, I’ll go to the auction house right now and buy you an even more expensive set of jewelry.” “Forget it. I didn’t really like that kind of stuff anyway.” Sincerity mixed with shards of glass hurts even more. Liam wasn’t having it. He ordered his secretary to keep a close eye on the auction houses, demanding they secure an even more brilliant ruby necklace. He swore to make me the most dazzling presence at our wedding. But, we had no future anymore. What wedding?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391850”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My son and I were kidnapped. The kidnappers live-streamed our ordeal online, threatening to chop my son into pieces and feed him to dogs if the ransom wasn’t paid. Instantly, the entire internet was searching for my husband. But what they didn’t know was that at the exact same moment, trending alongside our kidnapping, was the city’s wealthiest billionaire announcing his new relationship with a famous actress, looking like the picture-perfect, happy family of three. That billionaire was my husband, the father of my child. Seeing those two trending topics side-by-side was truly laughable. Later, taking pity on my son, the kidnappers only took one of his hands. Dragging his bleeding, empty left sleeve, he crawled all the way home, only to stumble upon my husband celebrating the birthday of his “first love’s” child. My husband frowned. Looking at my son’s curled-up, trembling body, his eyes were ice-cold: “Truly Chloe’s child. You only know how to play the victim, just like your mother.” My son looked up. Using his only remaining hand, he tugged at my husband’s pant leg. “Mister… could you please lend me some money so I can bury my mom?” 1 It was the twenty-third hour since my son and I were taken and tortured by the kidnappers. Arthur Sterling, the wealthiest man in the city, was busy celebrating the sixth birthday of his “first love’s” child. I had dialed his number for help eighty-eight times. Every single time, I got a busy signal. Furious, the kidnapper grabbed me by the hair and dragged me in front of my son, his face contorted with rage. “Isn’t Arthur Sterling your husband?! Why the hell won’t the call go through?!” “Are you dialing the wrong number on purpose to stall for time?!” As he yelled, he violently ripped out clumps of my hair, taking patches of scalp with them. The sheer agony contorted my face instantly. Tossing the bloody hair onto the ground, the kidnapper sneered, spat in my face, and threatened: “I’m giving you one last chance. If the call doesn’t go through this time, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” He pointed at my son, who was pale with terror. It was a clear warning: if the call failed again… The next victim would be my child, who had just turned six. The excruciating pain made my body tremble uncontrollably, but I didn’t dare fight back. I had to protect my child. Picking up the phone, I dialed Arthur’s number for the eighty-ninth time. Beep… beep… “Hello?” Arthur’s deep, magnetic voice finally came through. The moment I heard his voice, tears immediately streamed down my face. A mix of overwhelming relief and terror tangled in my heart, making me blurt out desperately: “Hubby, Tommy and I have been kidnapped! You need to—” Before I could finish, the man on the other end cut me off with clear disgust: “Enough, Chloe! I don’t care what kind of act you’re pulling this time, but leave Tommy out of it!” “If you have any conscience left, stop using our son as a pawn to get my attention.” With that, he hung up without a second of hesitation. The kidnapper’s face darkened, his gaze shifting ominously toward my son. Ignoring my despair, I immediately called back, terrified that a second’s delay would cost my son his life. The call connected again. I begged through my sobs: “Arthur, I’m not lying! We’ve really been kidnapped! Please, I beg you, save our child!” Silence stretched on the other end for two seconds before Arthur’s voice, so cold it chilled me to the bone, rang out: “Then wait until you’re dead. I’ll come collect your bodies.” The line went dead. Arthur had turned off his phone. At the exact same moment, I received a video message from Mia. In the video, Arthur, dressed in a bespoke suit, held Mia’s son and spoke confidently to the media. “Yes, that’s right. This is Mia’s and my child.” “We were forced apart previously due to some misunderstandings, but now we have decided to get back together.” “From now on, I will be a good father and take excellent care of Mia and Leo.” Mia stood beside him, smiling sweetly. Attached to the video was an electronic invitation. [Chloe, you and Tommy are welcome to attend our wedding on the 5th of next month.] [We’d love for Tommy to be our ring bearer.] It felt like my heart was being shredded into pieces. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe. In my daze, my son suddenly screamed. “Mommy!” Having lost all patience, the kidnapper dragged my son up from the floor, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air. “You little bastard! I didn’t expect you to be completely useless!” My son’s face turned a purplish blue as he desperately slapped the kidnapper’s massive hand with his tiny ones. “M-Mommy…” Rage eclipsed my fear. I screamed and lunged forward, desperate to save my son. Before I could even reach him, another kidnapper pinned me down and punched me brutally several times. “Bitch! You dare fight back?!” As he spoke, he picked up a rusty piece of rebar from the floor and jammed it into my mouth, churning it violently. The rough, jagged ridges tore my mouth apart, churning up bloody foam. My gums and tongue were shredded to a pulp. The agony was so intense I could only let out muffled whimpers. Only after completely venting his rage did the kidnapper throw my son to the ground. He ordered someone to open a live-streaming app on a phone. “Since he doesn’t believe the phone calls, we’ll live-stream the kid being tortured.” “I refuse to believe Arthur Sterling can be that heartless, completely abandoning his own flesh and blood.” 2 The kidnappers’ live stream of the abuse and the news of Arthur’s new relationship skyrocketed to the top of the trending lists simultaneously. In front of the media, Arthur affectionately placed Mia’s son on his shoulders and smiled at the reporters: “Alright, that concludes today’s interview. Mia and I need to go celebrate our child’s birthday.” Mia gave the man a coy, playful look. “Arthur is just like this. He’s always been such a good father.” Meanwhile, on the other side, the kidnappers shoved my son into a burlap sack, kicking and beating him mercilessly like a ragdoll. I was tied tightly to a chair, forced to watch this horror unfold with my own eyes. My son’s cries of pain, initially heart-wrenching screams, slowly faded into the weak whimpers of a dying kitten. The comment section rolled by in a blur: [I can’t watch this! The kid’s screams are too horrible!] [Didn’t they say they’d let the kid go as long as the dad connected to the stream? Where is the dad?!] [Can anyone contact the kid’s father?! Save the child!] The kidnapper dragged my son out of the sack, his eyes filled with sinister cruelty: “You little bastard. It seems your dad really can hold his nerve. He still refuses to show up.” “Fine. Don’t blame me for what happens next.” With that, he picked up the piece of rebar and began to move. My eyes nearly burst from their sockets in sheer terror. Dragging the chair with me, I threw myself to the floor, kowtowing frantically toward them like a madwoman. “I beg you, please don’t hurt my child! I’m not afraid of pain! Do whatever you want to me, just let my child go! I beg you!” My forehead slammed heavily against the concrete floor, quickly dyeing it red. My son opened his eyes, looking at me, and kept shaking his head. “No, Mommy. Tommy doesn’t hurt… Tommy doesn’t hurt at all.” My son’s voice was like an ice pick plunging deep into my heart. But I couldn’t afford to be afraid. He was only six. His life was just beginning. Tears mixed with blood slid down my cheeks as I gave him the same gentle smile I always did. “Tommy, Mommy is an adult. Adults don’t feel pain.” My son looked confused, still shaking his head continuously. The kidnapper, completely out of patience, gripped the rebar and stepped menacingly toward my son. “You little bastard, let’s see you cry now!” In that split second, I lunged forward with all my might, shoving my son out of the way. The rebar plunged down, impaling my body. The agonizing pain caused my body to convulse uncontrollably, but I didn’t want to terrify my child. Even as the kidnapper yanked the rebar out, I fought desperately to keep the smile on my face. I wanted to tell my child not to be afraid. I wanted to tell him how much Mommy loved him. But when I opened my mouth, all I could manage was a smiling whisper: “Tommy, don’t cry. Mommy doesn’t hurt.” In the moments before my death, countless memories flashed through my mind. I thought of our wedding day, how Arthur’s hands trembled so much holding mine that it took him ages to slip the ring on my finger. I thought of the day I found out I was pregnant, how Arthur’s eyes were rimmed with red as he asked me, “Am I really going to be a dad?” I thought of my son’s fifth birthday, the grand, extravagant celebration Arthur threw for him. But soon, those memories were replaced by the countless times Mia framed me and my son after her divorce. By Arthur’s suspicion, his disappointment, and finally, his cold, heartless glare. My vision began to blur. I could hear my son’s voice. He was saying: “Mommy, don’t go to sleep. Tommy will be good. Tommy will listen.” “Mommy, don’t sleep!” I used my last ounce of strength to raise my hand, wanting to stroke my son’s hair. But all I felt was sticky, warm blood. I’m sorry, Mommy couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry, Tommy. My consciousness sank entirely into darkness. My son stretched out his tiny hands, desperately trying to plug the bleeding wounds on my body. But it was all in vain. The comment section couldn’t take it anymore, scrolling frantically: [These monstrous kidnappers! Where are the police?! Hurry up and save them!] [Where is the child’s father?! Why hasn’t he shown up yet?!] [Does anyone know this child?! Please help them, I’m begging you!] … Even the kidnappers began to panic. One nervously turned to his accomplice: “What do we do? She’s dead.” The accomplice narrowed his eyes, his voice chilling: “It’s fine. We still have the little one, don’t we? We can still get the ransom.” He ripped my son away from my body and shoved him in front of the camera. Revealing his small face, covered in dark bruises. “Look closely, everyone! This child’s father is the CEO of the Sterling Group, Arthur Sterling!” The rapidly scrolling comment section paused for a split second. Then it absolutely exploded. [How is that possible? Didn’t CEO Sterling just announce his relationship with that actress?] [Yeah, they have a kid, but isn’t his name Leo?] [Are the kidnappers insane? They’re trying to extort him?] [Exactly! Did they kidnap the wrong person?!] Just as everyone was debating furiously, someone suddenly commented. [I was at the announcement event! I saw CEO Sterling check his phone!] [Just wait a second, everyone! CEO Sterling definitely saw the news! He’ll be here any minute!] As soon as that comment dropped, a bold, enlarged message was pinned to the top of the chat. It immediately caught the kidnappers’ attention. [Connect with me! I am Arthur Sterling!] My son didn’t recognize many words, but he knew the characters for “Arthur Sterling” meant his dad. His eyes instantly lit up. “Daddy…” 3 The connection was established, but it wasn’t Arthur on the other end. The kidnapper’s expression twisted. He violently pinned my son to the floor, raising a knife to sever his left hand. The voice on the other end frantically tried to stop him: [Wait! Don’t do anything rash! I’m CEO Sterling’s personal secretary!] [I just want to tell you that you’ve kidnapped the wrong person. Everyone in the company knows our CEO has always kept his personal life clean and never had any children.] [The only child he acknowledges is the actress’s son, Leo. Please don’t hurt an innocent child!] The kidnapper sneered, pressing the cleaver against my son’s neck, his tone freezing: “I’ll give you ten minutes to get Arthur Sterling on the phone. Otherwise, I’m going to use this kid’s head as a soccer ball!” Helpless, the secretary had no choice but to call Arthur’s number. “Hello? Who are you looking for?” A young, childish voice answered, filled with joy. The next second, an indulgent male voice could be heard. “Leo, the paper airplane is ready. Come here, Daddy Arthur will play with you.” The boy cheered, laughing happily: “Okay! Daddy Arthur, someone is looking for you.” Arthur took the phone, sounding displeased: “What is it? Didn’t I tell you today is Leo’s birthday, and that I’m not to be disturbed no matter what happens?!” The secretary froze for a second before immediately asking: “Mr. Sterling, do you have another son named Tommy? He…” “Enough!” Arthur angrily cut the secretary off: “I don’t know how much Chloe paid you, but I’m warning you, stop using children as a pathetic ploy to get my attention.” “I only have one son right now, and that’s Leo.” “Don’t ever mention anyone else to me again!” With that, the line went dead again. His voice echoed throughout the entire live stream, completely extinguishing the light in my son’s eyes. Perhaps he didn’t understand what “paid you” meant, but he knew one thing for sure: his dad had abandoned him. Muttering that realization, my son closed his eyes, his heart turning to ash. In that moment, he stopped struggling. The live stream was automatically shut down due to suspected violations. Furious and humiliated, the kidnapper raised the cleaver, ready to strike, but his accomplice stopped him. Looking at my son’s innocent, bruised face, he suggested: “Forget it. Since Arthur Sterling refuses to acknowledge him, this kid is useless now.” “Just chop off one of his hands and dump him at Arthur’s villa.” “Since he wants his mom so badly, give him a chance to collect her body.” The kidnapper scoffed, moving the cleaver to my son’s left arm. As the cleaver fell, my son’s agonizing screams echoed through the entire warehouse. Meanwhile, Arthur, who was busy helping a child cut a birthday cake, suddenly felt a sharp jolt in his heart. 4 When he woke up again, my son, now missing a hand, had been dumped by the kidnappers outside Arthur’s sprawling villa. In the courtyard sat a massive, elaborate toy castle. Arthur and Mia were playing games with Leo. The continuous sound of joyful laughter drifted over, reviving my son’s consciousness. He painfully rolled over, staring blankly at the happy scene in the courtyard, his eyes welling with tears. Soon, he remembered what the kidnappers had said. Collect Mommy’s body… Right. I have to collect Mommy’s body. Even though he didn’t fully understand what “collecting a body” meant, his instinct told him it was incredibly important to Mommy. With that thought, he didn’t even have time to process the agonizing pain in his shoulder. Using his only remaining right hand, he dragged himself across the rough ground. Inch by inch, he painfully crawled toward the massive gates of the villa. Sharp stones sliced his palm; gravel dug deep into his raw wounds. Every single movement was sheer torture. This was the same child who used to cry and hide in my arms over a minor scrape. This time, he only whimpered a few times silently before immediately continuing his agonizing crawl. He stared at the increasingly closer gates of the villa, muttering to himself: “It doesn’t hurt… Tommy doesn’t hurt… I have to collect Mommy’s body…” When he finally touched the gate, my son let out a sigh of relief. He raised his head and used his very last ounce of strength to scream. “Daddy!” Hearing the sound, Arthur instinctively turned his head. When he saw the tiny, curled-up figure outside the gate, the man froze, a flicker of heartbreak flashing in his eyes. Just as he was about to step forward, Mia interrupted him. “Arthur, is that Tommy? Why is he here? Didn’t Chloe say they were kidnapped?” Mia’s expression briefly twisted, but her voice remained soft and gentle as water. “But then again, it makes sense. Chloe has always been jealous of how well you treat me and Leo. Trying to ruin Leo’s birthday is exactly her style.” “It’s just pitiful for Tommy. Being used like this at such a young age.” Hearing Mia’s words, Arthur’s heart hardened once more. He looked at my son from a distance, his voice cold and merciless: “What? Your mom’s calls didn’t work, so she sent you here to play the victim?!” “I can’t believe I have a son like you. You’re an embarrassment. From now on, without my permission, you are not allowed to call me ‘Daddy’.” “I’ll count to three. Get up right now, or don’t blame me for what happens next!” My son moved his pale lips, trying to explain, but the pain had long since drained him of all strength. Seeing no reaction, Arthur’s anger flared. He turned, grabbed a heavy model airplane from the yard, and hurled it viciously at my son. “I told you to get up! Stop acting!” The model shattered against my son’s forehead with a loud crack. Blood dripped into his eyes, dyeing his vision red. He wanted to tell his dad that he wasn’t acting. That Tommy was in so much pain. But he had no strength left. Seeing his son still unmoving, Arthur’s fury peaked. He shook off Mia’s hand and marched toward my son: “You’re still refusing to listen, aren’t you?! Believe it or not, I’ll—” Before he could finish, a harsh ringtone pierced the air. “Hello, is this Mr. Arthur Sterling? We received a report that your child was live-streamed by kidnappers this morning, and the mother was killed on the scene.” “We need you to come to the police station immediately to assist with our investigation.” Clatter! The phone slipped from his grasp. Arthur saw the blood covering my son, and his eyes instantly turned blood-red. My son finally found a sliver of strength. He raised his head and, using his only remaining right hand, feebly tugged at Arthur’s pant leg: “Mister… could you please lend me some money… to help me bury my mom?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391849”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Right before handing out the year-end bonuses, my boss pulled me aside and whispered: “Your bonus is still the highest in the department, but keep it quiet. We don’t want to affect team morale.” I believed him, feeling a sense of comfort. The amount wasn’t huge, but at least the boss recognized my hard work. My year of grinding hadn’t been in vain. But that night, I accidentally overheard my boss drunkenly confessing the truth: “Gullible, unconnected employees like Chloe are the easiest to manipulate. “Just feed her a few lies, and she’ll work harder than a mule.” A sudden clarity hit me. For the past three years, my bonus had actually been the lowest. 1 Right before the year-end bonuses were distributed, my boss, Mr. Vance, suddenly called me into his office. After making sure the door was closed tight, he lowered his voice: “Chloe, I need you to mentally prepare yourself for something. “You know the market is tough right now, clients aren’t paying on time, and the company’s cash flow is tight… I’m afraid the year-end bonuses this year will just be a token gesture.” He looked deeply pained as he said this, his eyes even looking a little red. My heart sank with his words. At the beginning of the year, to motivate everyone, the boss promised extra bonuses based on the projects we completed. I worked myself to the bone, exceeding my quota by completing over a dozen projects—literally double the output of anyone else in the department. Even calculating with the lowest bonus percentage, I should have received tens of thousands of dollars. But now… any expectations I had for my bonus vanished completely. Mr. Vance finished sighing, then suddenly gave me a conspiratorial smile: “But as the boss, I see how hard a core employee like you has worked this year. “Don’t worry, just like the past two years, your bonus is still the highest in your department. “But please, keep this an absolute secret. I don’t want to affect team morale.” Hearing this brought me some comfort. Even if it wasn’t a lot of money, the boss was fair. My year of working day and night hadn’t been completely wasted. The industry was suffering, the company couldn’t afford to pay out, and no one could do anything about it. When I first graduated and struggled to find a job, I accidentally stumbled into this company. From a clueless rookie to a competent lead designer, Mr. Vance had indeed given me many opportunities. When benefits were severely slashed, I thought about quitting, but my loyalty to the company kept me here. Seeing him so distressed, I even offered some kind words of comfort: “Mr. Vance, don’t be too sad. We’ll all work harder next year, and we’ll definitely make a lot of money.” Mr. Vance looked slightly awkward for a moment, but quickly put on a touched expression: “Chloe, with employees like you looking out for the big picture, how could Elegance Interiors not succeed and grow?! “Next year, we’ll all roll up our sleeves and work hard! When the company’s cash flow improves, you’ll be the first one I compensate!” I offered a bitter smile and nodded. Just as I was about to leave, Mr. Vance stopped me again. “Actually, there’s an opportunity right in front of us. “Right after the holidays, there’s an urgent, high-priority project. Mr. Price needs his manor renovated. Over a dozen competitors are eyeing this massive opportunity. The contract is worth five million dollars! “Look… since you’re getting the highest bonus, taking on this tough project for the company shouldn’t be a problem, right?” 2 To be honest, the moment I heard “after the holidays,” “urgent,” and “high-priority,” my head started ringing. My family lived out of state. Factoring in travel time, I could only spend four or five days at home for the Lunar New Year. If I had to work overtime on a project, I’d only get one or two days of rest. My holiday would basically be ruined. I was just about to decline when Mr. Vance cut me off: “Chloe, I’ve always favored you when it comes to bonuses! At a critical moment like this, you have to step up for the company! “Mr. Price was very satisfied with the model home design you did for his real estate development last time. That’s the only reason he’s giving our company a chance. “Besides, the timeline is too tight. I really don’t feel comfortable handing this to anyone else!” I let out a long sigh. With him putting it like that, I had no choice but to bite the bullet and agree. The design market is so distorted these days. Deadlines are always immediately after holidays. And these are projects where no contract has been signed, yet the boss still bends over backwards, demanding multiple design proposals for the client to choose from. Designers have long been numb to it. Seeing me nod, Mr. Vance beamed: “Great! Then on the eighth day of the New Year, the day we get back to work, you bring five different design proposals. I’ll go with you to present them to Mr. Price, and we’ll fight to win this massive project! “Don’t worry, if we land this, I’ll personally give you a hundred-thousand-dollar bonus at the end of the year!” I forced a smile, not daring to hold out much hope for the bonus. In this economy, just getting my regular salary on time was enough to satisfy me. Before I closed the door to leave, he reminded me one last time. “Remember, absolutely keep the bonus a secret!” 3 With complicated feelings, I walked back to my desk in silence. Colleagues around me were chatting in small groups about the year-end bonuses, but I had zero interest in joining them. Not long after I spaced out at my desk, the continuous sound of text message notifications echoed across the entire office floor. “Holy shit, the bonuses are deposited!” Someone shouted. Startled, I remembered my boss’s warning. I discreetly lowered my phone under my desk and carefully opened the message. With just one glance, the glaring number “$2,000” burned into my retinas. My vision went dark. This was completely absurd! I counted the zeros several times to confirm the amount. The sliver of hope I had been holding onto completely died. So the boss’s “token gesture” really was just two thousand dollars! Last year, I got at least eight thousand. This year, it was only a quarter of that. What was most laughable was that my meager amount was actually the highest in the department? At that moment, I even worried that my colleagues might storm the boss’s office in protest. But when I scanned the room… I found that the other colleagues in the department were surprisingly calm, packing up to leave for the day. “Sigh, less and less every year. Be content; it’s better than getting nothing.” “Yeah, the market is bad. We all have to weather the storm together.” “Are you still not satisfied? The economy out there is trash. It’s a blessing to get paid at all. Go ask around, how many companies just handed out a bag of rice for the holidays?” 4 That last comment came from my colleague, Mia. She was the boss’s niece, an art major who had just graduated and joined our design department six months ago. The other colleagues usually sucked up to her, and no one cared when she made passive-aggressive comments. A few who were close to her even went over to chat. “Now that we’ve got our bonuses, I’m going all out this weekend. That new trendy seafood buffet is really good, only $600 a person. Who wants to go?” “I’m finally going to bite the bullet and buy that mink coat I’ve been eyeing for my New Year’s outfit.” “Mia, what are you buying with your bonus?” Mia lifted her chin, adjusted her Gucci bag, and replied lazily: “Whether it’s a little or a lot, it’s the company’s gesture. Anyway, I’m going to the Maldives for a vacation… If it’s not enough, I’ll just ask my family to chip in.” Everyone praised her wealthy family background and marveled that a rich heiress would actually deign to work. Hearing their conversation, I silently clicked my tongue. With the tiny amount we received, it wouldn’t even cover the cost of a decent coat at the mall… Girls from big cities with wealthy families really know how to spend money. For some reason, Mia, surrounded by her sycophants, suddenly looked at me. “Chloe, you got your bonus, why aren’t you happy? “I just saw you come out of the boss’s office. What secret were you discussing with the door closed, afraid we’d hear?” As soon as Mia spoke, the others chimed in: “Yeah, Chloe works so hard, the boss must have given you a huge bonus, right?” “Chloe became a lead designer at such a young age. She’s the backbone of the company. It’s perfectly normal if she got more than us.” “Exactly. Chloe is a famous workaholic. Our department’s ‘A’ rating this year was practically carried by her alone. So many big clients requested her by name.” Faced with their teasing, I had to reply, just offering a smile: “It wasn’t just my effort; it was everyone’s hard work. “Everyone knows how hard it is to collect payments right now. My bonus is probably the same as everyone else’s.” Truthfully, given the base amount was so low, I genuinely thought everyone got roughly the same. I didn’t know what the boss was thinking, worrying that I wouldn’t keep it a secret. To be frank, I’d be too embarrassed to even say the amount out loud. While we were talking, I wasn’t paying attention, and Mia had quietly slipped behind me. Before I could react, she suddenly snatched my phone right out of my hand: “Chloe, your bonus is definitely bigger than ours, right? Let me see how much it is!” 5 The others also gathered around curiously, all wanting a look at my phone. I reacted immediately, trying to grab my phone back. But I was blocked by the crowd and couldn’t reach it. Mia scrolled through my phone for a moment, then handed it back to me, looking disappointed. “Tch, you actually deleted the text notification. You’re way too cautious, Chloe. How boring.” I was so angry I almost hit her. I snatched my phone back and glared at her coldly: “Is snatching someone else’s phone fun? Don’t go too far.” Seeing I was angry, Mia softened her tone and reached out to grab my arm. “Okay, okay, Chloe, I’m sorry. It was just a joke, you’re not actually going to hold a grudge, are you?” The others also tried to smooth things over. I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I gave a perfunctory response, grabbed my bag, and stormed out. The boss had arranged a company dinner tonight at a restaurant owned by one of his relatives. I couldn’t muster any enthusiasm all night; my mind was entirely focused on that pathetic bonus. Perhaps noticing my sour expression, when Mr. Vance came to toast our table, he specifically patted my shoulder: “Sigh, it’s been tough for you all this year. “Even though it’s not a lot of money, your old pal Vance really tried his best. Suppliers were literally at my door demanding payment, and I had to grit my teeth and hold off paying them just for you.” My colleagues raised their glasses and offered polite pleasantries; I didn’t say much. As the dinner drew to a close, I left with the main group. Mr. Vance, however, hadn’t had enough. Acting like a typical drunk, he pulled a few of his closest cronies back into the room to keep drinking. When I got outside, I realized I had forgotten my scarf and went back to the restaurant to get it. Just as I reached the door of the large private room, I heard a piercing, girlish laugh coming from inside. “Uncle, why is my bonus only a hundred thousand dollars? You’re too cheap. I heard the company just collected two million dollars yesterday.” 6 Mia’s words froze me in my tracks. Before I could even process it, the clearly intoxicated voice of Mr. Vance drifted out. “Mia, you’re still not satisfied? You already got the most out of everyone in the design department. “Just look at… those employees with more seniority than you, they only got ten or twenty thousand. “And that Chloe… Look at how many projects she completed this year… How much did she get? You know perfectly well.” Mia laughed happily: “You’re terrible, Uncle. She is a lead designer, after all, and you dismissed her with a measly two thousand dollars… “She got the lowest amount in the entire company, aren’t you afraid she’ll find out and quit?” Mr. Vance scoffed: “This is what you don’t understand. This is called… the art of management. You give people the treatment they deserve. “Gullible, unconnected employees like Chloe are the easiest to manipulate. “Just feed her a few lies, and she’ll work harder than a mule.” Hearing this, my mind went almost entirely blank. “Don’t worry, she won’t quit, and she can’t quit, hahaha.” The laughter from the few people inside grew louder. Standing outside the door, I was so angry I felt like I was plunged into an ice bath, trembling uncontrollably. So all these years, the boss had been lying to me. I was the clown who always got the lowest bonus. 7 I had been with the company for five years. The first two years, I was a rookie, so getting paid less made sense. From the third year on, I was leading projects on my own and helped the company survive a major crisis. Without any false modesty, I contributed the most to the entire design department. But in the end, my bonus was the lowest! And I foolishly believed the boss appreciated me, burying myself in work and giving my all. Those colleagues who were always late, leaving early, and slacking off got more than me; The seasoned veterans who shirked responsibility and threw others under the bus got more than me; Even the new hire who spent her days reading novels and watching dramas at work, and had only been here for six months, got more than me! I wanted to storm in right then and there and demand an explanation from Mr. Vance. What gave the company the right to treat me this way? Do honest, hard-working people deserve to be bullied? But a second before I pushed the door open, a thought struck me. Knowing him, even if we had a falling out, he definitely wouldn’t admit it, and even if he did, he absolutely wouldn’t compensate me. I wanted to make sure he faced severe retribution! With a plan in mind, I quietly left the restaurant without alerting anyone. Early the next morning, just as I boarded the high-speed train to go home, I received a call from Mr. Vance. “Chloe, I had Mia send you the villa details and design requirements for Mr. Price’s project. Make sure you check them as soon as you get home. “Don’t forget, the deadline for the designs is the eighth day of the New Year. “If we don’t land this contract, the company will probably face an even tougher year next year. You absolutely cannot betray my trust!” Without a moment’s hesitation, I cheerfully agreed: “Don’t worry, Mr. Vance. I will definitely have five design proposals ready by the eighth. I guarantee we’ll secure Mr. Price.” Mr. Vance laughed happily on the other end of the line. I was very happy, too. Smart boss, just wait for this ‘gullible employee’ to give you a massive surprise on the eighth. 8 I went home for the holidays completely broke. My parents didn’t say anything and were still incredibly happy to see me. They were honest, hardworking people all their lives, only worrying that I was too exhausted working out of state. They often advised me to listen to my leaders at work and perform well. Every time they said this, I agreed out loud, but my hatred for Mr. Vance only grew deeper. Fortunately, my plan was progressing step by step. Right after New Year’s Eve, early on New Year’s Day, Mr. Vance sent me a message. Reminding me not to forget the overtime project. I replied instantly, telling him I had already started drafting the proposals and was overflowing with inspiration. He was very satisfied and replied with a thumbs-up emoji. On the second, third… for several days in a row, he messaged me daily to check on my progress, like clocking in. Every time, I was incredibly cooperative, telling him to put his mind at ease and just enjoy his holiday. Mr. Vance had no suspicions. After all, he knew me too well after all these years. As long as I promised to take on a job, I would never drop the ball. I would finish it even if I were in the hospital hooked up to an IV. But I guess this project was just too important. On the fifth day, he actually called me via video chat to confirm my progress. I complained, sounding a bit wronged: “Mr. Vance, why don’t you trust me? I told you I’m working overtime drafting the proposals. Please, just relax.” Mr. Vance laughed awkwardly: “Of course I trust your work. I just wanted to see how the progress is going. “You should have three or four of the five proposals done by now, right? Let me take a quick look, and I can give you some advice.” I sneered internally and pointed the camera directly at my computer screen. I gave him a quick, blurry glance. The screen was indeed filled with stacks of folders and design blueprints. Before he could see clearly, I turned the camera away. Mr. Vance beamed brilliantly: “See? I told you I have complete faith in your skills. “So many designs in just a few days! I’ll be waiting for your masterpiece on the eighth. Elegance Interiors is going to shine in front of Mr. Price again!” “Absolutely, absolutely,” I said with a smile and hung up. The proposals were indeed being worked on, but I created two versions.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391848”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My childhood best friend and I accidentally drank spiked drinks at a banquet. When I woke up, I stared blankly at the messy bedsheets. My hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t clasp my bra. He fastened it for me, his tone pleading: “Please don’t tell my girlfriend, okay? There was something wrong with the drinks. What happened between us was just an accident.” His girlfriend… is my best friend. 1 My best friend, Mia, a wealthy heiress, is celebrating her birthday today. She specifically told me to bring my childhood friend, Liam, along. “With the dreamy crystal chandeliers and the pink balloon bubbles at the party, the atmosphere will be perfect. Why don’t you confess your feelings to him again?” Everyone knows I confessed to Liam once. Mia, who has only known him for two weeks, knows it too. I lowered my eyes, quietly stirring the latte art in my coffee cup with a spoon. “Better not. He told me never to confess to him again, or we wouldn’t even be friends.” Even though that’s what I said out loud, another voice was clearly ringing in my head—Confess to him again. That evening, Liam drove to pick me up for the party. Sitting in his flashy red Maserati, he let out a low whistle. “Wow, Chloe, you look so beautiful today. If people didn’t know better, they’d think you were the birthday girl.” Wearing a cocktail dress, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Do I really look good today?” “Yeah.” Receiving Liam’s affirmative answer filled me with joy. Liam stepped out of the car and opened the passenger door. One hand rested on my shoulder, while the other hovered protectively over my head. I was a bit surprised. Whenever I rode in his car before, he never got out to open the door for me. Let alone make any extra, protective gestures. Sitting in the passenger seat, I kept stealing glances at him while he drove. Sensing my gaze, he seemed a bit distracted himself. He even took a wrong turn. When we finally arrived at the party, the birthday girl, Mia, spotted us the moment we walked through the door. “Chloe, Liam, you’re finally here!” She skipped over to us. I had been holding onto Liam’s arm. But he suddenly pulled his arm away. My hand hung awkwardly in the air. For a second, I almost thought he pulled away specifically because Mia came over. But the very next second, he took my hand again and led me into the party. 2 Before the party officially started, a few close friends gathered to play a card-drawing game. The cards were all filled with questions and games related to love and relationships. Exactly what was weighing heavily on my mind. When it was Liam’s turn, the card he drew read: “Is the person you like present right now?” My fingertips trembled, and I held my breath waiting for his answer. If he said “yes,” I was going to muster a lifetime’s worth of courage and confess to him again tonight. “Yes.” His tone was very light. But the moment that magnetic voice reached my ears, it was as if the lock holding Pandora’s box shut clicked open. He said his type was here. He complimented my looks when he picked me up. He held my hand when we walked in. My palms started sweating, and I gripped the fabric of my dress tightly. Mia gently nudged my arm. I shot her a “stop messing around” look. When it was my turn, the card I drew read: [How long did your longest relationship last?] “I’ve never been in a relationship.” I smiled bitterly, a sharp pain in my chest. “But I’ve loved someone for seven years… no, even longer.” Sitting across from me, Liam looked up and stared at me intently. Everyone knows that my first—and only—confession to Liam was seven years ago. The people around us fell silent, their eyes darting back and forth between Liam and me. Someone bold enough couldn’t resist chiming in, “Is this person here right now?” A question to which they already knew the answer. I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, my gaze collided straight with Liam’s. “He’s here.” This was practically a complete confession. I had always listened to Liam. Back then, when he rejected me, he added, “If you ever confess again, we won’t even be friends.” I obeyed for seven years. I never breathed a word about my feelings. But I didn’t expect him to constantly bring it up as a joke. Maybe it was just his way of stopping me from confessing again. But I love him. So, through this winding, indirect method, I laid my heart bare to him once more. 3 A new round of drawing cards began. The card Liam drew read: [Pick a girl, give her a princess carry, and walk a lap around the room.] My heart pounded like a drum. The next second, Liam stood up and walked straight toward me. Fireworks exploded in my heart; I was thrilled. He’s coming toward me. He’s coming toward me. By the time I silently repeated that twice, Liam was only two steps away. I looked up, studying his sharp, defined features. I wanted to lean close to his ear and solemnly tell him again, “I love you.” That way, everything that just happened wouldn’t seem so frivolous. Liam’s figure was right in front of me. Having sat nervously for so long, my body was stiff, and my feet stood up on their own accord. And in that moment— Liam brushed right past me. And stopped in front of Mia, who was standing beside me. I stood there helplessly, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. The silent gazes of the people around me were practically screaming about how pathetic my wishful thinking was just a moment ago. “I wonder if I have the honor of carrying our lovely birthday girl today?” I turned sideways, staring at Liam in disbelief. But his eyes weren’t on me at all. Mia looked hesitantly at me, standing right next to her. I forced an awkward smile. “I need to use the restroom.” Muttering a random excuse, I hurried out of the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liam already bending down, scooping Mia up into his arms. I hid in a bathroom stall. I leaned my head against the wall and covered my eyes with my hands. It’s fine. It’s just another failed confession. It can’t possibly be worse than seven years ago. Good thing I didn’t say it out loud this time. When I finally snapped out of it, my palms were wet with tears. My phone suddenly buzzed with a message from Liam. [The party is about to start. Mia’s looking for you. Where did you go?] I wiped my cheeks and walked out of the stall. The reflection in the mirror had lost all its vibrant color, looking like a completely different person from the one who had carefully applied makeup that afternoon. The tears had ruined my eye makeup. I just used a tissue with warm water to wipe away all the eyeshadow and false lashes. Then I faced the mirror, forced a somewhat lively smile, and finally dared to open the door and go back out to celebrate my best friend’s birthday. 4 In the dazzling hall, a massive, multi-tiered cake stood right in the center. People were crowded around it, three layers deep. “They’re so perfect for each other. A match made in heaven.” “When he confessed just now, I think I was more excited than she was.” The people around me were clicking their tongues, marveling at the perfect couple. A sense of unease washed over me. Following their gaze, I saw Mia and Liam. Liam was holding Mia’s hand, cutting the cake layer by layer. “Confess? Who confessed?” I grabbed a stranger next to me, asking frantically. “The main couple tonight, obviously. Hey, who are you? Let go of me.” The person pushed me away in disgust. The crowd started chanting, “Kiss! Kiss!” Liam wrapped his arm around Mia’s shoulders, cradled the back of her head, and kissed her passionately. My mind went completely blank. Even though it was incredibly noisy around me. It felt like I was trapped in a vacuum, suffocating any chance I had to scream. Standing in the middle of the crowd, I stared blankly at the two people under the spotlight. Tears fell unconsciously down my freshly wiped cheeks. “Ah, Chloe’s finally here!” Mia, the center of attention, called out in surprise when she saw me. She walked toward me with a bright smile. Liam followed right behind her. “If it weren’t for Chloe, I never would have met Liam! You’re our Cupid.” She handed me the biggest piece of cake. “What Cupid? What are you talking about?” I didn’t believe it. I didn’t believe a single word that stranger or Mia said. “Chloe.” Liam suddenly spoke up. “I just confessed to Mia, and she said yes.” … A long, agonizing silence. “Liam… stop joking.” “After you introduced us, I’ve been pursuing Mia for two weeks.” Liam’s voice even trembled slightly with excitement. “She just accepted.” Tears, tasting faintly of blood, slid down my throat. A bitter, salty taste. “So for these past two weeks, when the three of us hung out… was I just the monkey you were both playing with?” I heard my own voice, harsh and strained. “We didn’t mean to hide it from you, we just didn’t know how to tell you…” “Listening to me share my feelings about liking Liam, and then sneaking around behind my back… treating me like a clown—is that fun for you?” I said, staring right at Mia. “Chloe, I…” Two weeks… I was played for a fool for two weeks by the two people I trusted most. So the arrow shot by Cupid… Only ended up making me bleed. 5 A group of friends we knew gathered around. They all knew I had confessed to Liam. Liam had told them himself. A few of them spoke up to break the awkward silence. “Chloe, today is Mia’s birthday, don’t make a scene.” “Liam rejected you seven years ago. You can’t expect him to never date anyone.” “Why don’t you give me a try? I’m single too.” The group chimed in one after another, their words cornering me. These people sucked up to the Sterling family’s power. Even their previous politeness toward me was entirely because of Liam. And there were definitely a few who were just waiting to watch the drama unfold. As long as we started fighting, everyone would think I was just a jealous, bitter woman who couldn’t handle rejection. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. I snatched a wine glass from someone next to me. The crowd gasped, thinking I was going to throw the wine or start pulling hair. Liam rushed forward and grabbed the glass from my hand. “What are you doing?” he demanded, his tone hostile. The wine in the glass spilled onto my dress in the struggle. I don’t know how I found my voice. But I managed to compose myself and speak. “Congratulations.” I took the glass back, downed the remaining dregs in one gulp, and tilted the empty glass toward him. “Wishing you a lifetime of happiness.” I turned around. And walked out of the hall. Leaving the glass by the door. From beginning to end, I never looked back inside once. I didn’t want this filthy friendship and relationship anymore. But then again, they were never mine to begin with. 6 I blocked Liam and Mia on everything. I stayed home and slept for days. Then I suddenly received an invitation from the Sterling Corporation. I had almost forgotten about this. My grandfather intended to gradually hand over the company’s management to me, and I was the one assigned to negotiate our bid for the Sterling Corporation’s new project. Which meant I had to see Liam again. After the Sterling Corporation’s bidding conference, my family’s company, Terry Machinery, successfully won the bid. While signing the letter of intent, Liam’s eyes kept lingering on me. As soon as I signed, I wanted to leave immediately. Liam held out his hand: “Congratulations on winning the bid.” I pressed my lips together, hesitated for a moment, but still reached out my hand. But the moment my hand touched his, I instinctively dropped it and turned to walk out the door. Liam blocked my path: “Are we just throwing away years of friendship like this?” “If there are no issues with the bidding proposal, I don’t think we have anything else to discuss.” I turned to leave again. “There are some issues.” Liam reached out to block my exit. “Stay for the business dinner after this; it’s the perfect time to go over the details of the contract.” “Can’t I go over the details with your secretary?” “Some things need to be made clear today.” This project was crucial, and there was no room for error. I had no choice but to stay and wait for Liam to finish his subsequent meetings. His secretary led me to the banquet hall downstairs. Mia and I saw each other almost simultaneously. I looked away, walked over to a sofa on the side, sat down, and turned my back. But Mia walked over to me, smiling brightly. “Chloe, about me and Liam… are you still mad?” “I should have smashed your birthday party that day, to save you from asking such delusional questions.” I lifted my eyelids and gave her a cold look. Mia’s expression shifted several times before she finally looked at me with a wronged expression. “Chloe, I apologize.” Mia picked up a glass of wine, downed it in one gulp, and handed another glass to me. “But there will be many opportunities for collaboration between the Vance family and the Sterling Corporation in the future. There’s no need to make things so hostile, right?” “Business collaboration” was the polite way of putting it. The ugly truth was that a single project thrown our way by the Sterling Corporation was enough to cover the Vance family’s revenue for half a year. I knew this perfectly well. “Are you threatening me?” I forced a tight, insincere smile, took the glass from Mia’s hand, and drank it. “What are you talking about? A glass of wine washes away all grudges,” Mia smiled, tapped her glass against my empty one, and was then called away by another group of people. 7 Back when Liam and I were close, I didn’t think much about the business implications. Now, it was time to carefully calculate them. But the more I thought about it, the tighter my chest felt. A waiter walked by, and I intercepted a glass of wine from his tray and placed it in front of me. Glass after glass, I forcefully drank until only one glass remained on the tray. I drank the last glass too fast, choking until the corners of my eyes turned red. Suddenly, a hand reached out from behind me and took my glass away. I turned around. It was Liam. “You’ve had too much.” “None of your business. Give it back.” I unsteadily held onto the sofa, trying to snatch the glass back from him. Liam dodged me and downed the remaining wine in the glass himself. Standing up too fast caused the alcohol to hit my brain, and my consciousness began to blur. Liam supported me. I instinctively felt annoyed and tried to shake off his hand. The commotion drew the attention of Mia and a group of people. “Should I find someone to take her home?” Mia offered. “No.” Liam pondered for a moment. “There are executive suites upstairs. I’ll just take her up to rest. We still have contract details to discuss.” Except, after Liam took me up to the room, he never came back down. Because the wine was tainted. It was spiked. My complete memory ends at the banquet hall. After that, I only remember fragmented, shattered pieces. When I woke up again, I looked at myself in the mirror. My body was covered in mottled red marks. Liam’s lean, muscular back bore several bright red scratches. There was skin under my fingernails. I looked at Liam, utterly lost. “How… how could we?” He fastened the clasp of my bra for me, bringing his hands together in a pleading gesture. “Please don’t tell Mia, okay? The wine we drank had something in it. What happened between us was an accident.” I stared at Liam blankly. Broken phrases floated vaguely in front of my eyes. But I distinctly remembered what he said when he pinned me to the bed: “When we were doing it… didn’t you say you broke up with her?” “I only said that so you wouldn’t feel guilty,” Liam scoffed, jumping off the bed. “I couldn’t just let you find some random guy to handle it. I should have recorded you, so you could see how incredibly wild you were acting.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391847”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My little sister’s middle school hosted a charity flea market. She spent five bucks on an old love letter and presented it to me like a priceless treasure: “Look, Summer! The person this is addressed to has the exact same name as you!” I stared at the letter, dated eight years ago, and fell into deep thought. The signature at the bottom read: Ethan Sterling. Wait. Wasn’t that my aloof, ice-cold high school lab partner? The guy who was now my aloof, ice-cold boss? Before I could ask any questions, a call came through to my sister’s smartwatch. A little boy on the other end was crying his lungs out: “My uncle is going to kill me! I’ll give you a hundred bucks—just please give that love letter back!” 1 Because of a mistake made by one of our interns, our entire team was getting chewed out. As the team director, I took the brunt of the yelling. By the time I walked out of the CEO’s office with my head hanging low, the intern was on the verge of tears. “Summer, I’m so sorry. I dragged you down with me.” I looked at the dark circles under her eyes. The workload had been brutal lately, and our whole team had been working overtime. She hadn’t been slacking off. I waved my hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m used to getting yelled at. It doesn’t even hurt anymore…” “Is that so?” A deep, low voice echoed behind me. The intern flinched like she’d been struck by lightning. My body went rigid. I looked up to see Ethan Sterling pushing his office door open, his brows furrowed as he stared at me. Ugh… that icy, deadpan face. Just looking at it makes me mad. I forced a stiff smile. “…No.” Ethan stared at me intently for a few seconds, then closed his office door. Later, when I stepped out to the pantry for water, I overheard a few interns whispering. “The boss is so mean to Director Hastings.” “Her heart must be made of steel. If it were me, I would’ve quit by now.” “I heard Director Hastings and the boss actually went to high school together.” “No way! And he still rips into an old classmate without an ounce of mercy? He’s a monster.” I shrugged my shoulders. They weren’t wrong. Ethan Sterling was a monster. And we weren’t just regular high school classmates; we sat right next to each other as lab partners for three whole years! Yet, he still gave me absolutely zero preferential treatment. I was about to walk away when the topic of their conversation suddenly shifted. “By the way, I heard the boss is engaged.” “Yeah, a little while ago, I saw his fiancée drop him off at the office!” “What? Our ice-cold CEO actually has a fiancée?” My footsteps faltered, and my fingers unconsciously tightened around my mug. Looking down the hallway toward the CEO’s office, I suddenly felt a stifling, heavy feeling in my chest. 2 After a month of grueling overtime, our project finally hit a major milestone. The company gave us five days off. The interns were so excited they practically cried. I politely declined their invitation to go out for drinks, went home to pack a bag, and drove straight back to my hometown. I hadn’t been back in six months. Thankfully, it was only a four-hour drive from the city where I worked. It was late at night by the time I arrived. My sudden appearance startled my mom, but she happily rushed off to make my bed while my dad hummed a tune and went to the kitchen to whip up a late-night snack. After dropping my bags, I quietly pushed open the door to a small bedroom. By the ambient light from the living room, I could see a little girl buried under the blankets, sleeping peacefully. Lily was the product of my parents’ “happy accident” when I was already in high school. Having a baby sister so suddenly took some getting used to at first. But as Lily grew up, she became impossibly cute, perfectly inheriting my mom’s patience and my dad’s intellect. She was incredibly clingy with me, always thinking of me first whenever she got her hands on something good. Early the next morning, I was roused by some rustling. I sleepily opened my eyes to see Lily resting her chin on the edge of my bed. Her bright eyes blinked at me. “Summer! You’re back!” “Yeah,” I mumbled, closing my eyes again. “Be a good girl, your big sister needs to sleep a little longer.” “Okay! I’m going to school now, but I’ll bring you a present when I get back!” I hummed an acknowledgment. When Lily tiptoed out, she even carefully pulled the door shut behind her. What a sweet kid. She must have saved up quite a bit of allowance to be buying me presents. I was actually a little excited. It was almost 11 AM when I finally got out of bed. My dad had just picked Lily up from school. My parents told me to watch her for a bit while they ran to the grocery store. As soon as they left, Lily eagerly pulled something out of her backpack and shuffled over to me like she had a massive secret. “Summer, guess what I got you!” How was I supposed to guess that? Before I could even throw out a random answer, she couldn’t hold it in anymore and shoved an envelope right into my face. “Look, Summer! Your name is on it!” I froze for a second and took the letter. The paper was slightly yellowed; it looked like it was from several years ago. The front of the envelope read: To Summer. What were the odds of sharing the same name? Lily babbled on: “Our school had a charity flea market today. We brought old stuff from home that we didn’t need, and students could buy whatever they wanted. The money goes to underfunded schools. “My desk partner brought a ton of stuff—old books, stationery… I found this letter tucked inside a book, so I bought it for five dollars.” Lily looked at me, desperate for praise. “Do you like it?” 3 My very first thought was: It’s just a coincidence. Growing up, I was never considered pretty in my class. I wore thick, heavy glasses and had a quiet, introverted personality. Whenever people talked to me, I never knew how to respond. So, naturally, no boy had ever given me a love letter. Holding the envelope, I felt a bit awkward. But Lily was urging me: “Open it! Hurry!” “I don’t think that’s a good idea…” After all, it belonged to someone else. And it was a love letter—something incredibly private. “But I spent a whole week’s allowance on this!” Kids are impatient. She snatched the letter from my hands and ripped it open in three seconds flat. Then she shoved the paper back at me. “Read it to me!” “My classmate said he took this from his uncle’s treasure box. He said everything in there is super valuable, so this must be too!” I was about to refuse again, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught the signature at the very bottom of the page. The handwriting was neat and elegant—Ethan Sterling. It felt like a lightning bolt struck my brain. I stared blankly for several seconds before my gaze rigidly moved upward to read the contents: [Summer, this is our third year sitting together as lab partners…] I slammed my hand over the paper, my face burning so hot it felt like it might explode. My sister was still begging: “Read it, Summer! I want to hear it too!” 4 I managed to distract my sister, clutched the envelope, and bolted into my room. I threw open the window and let the cold wind hit my face for a long time, but my heart wouldn’t calm down. I looked at the letter again. I was absolutely certain Ethan wrote this. Back in high school, my handwriting was atrocious. My English teacher couldn’t stand it anymore and actually gave me Ethan’s notebooks to trace over for an entire semester. I could recognize his handwriting even if it turned to ashes. But… why? Why would Ethan Sterling have liked me in high school? My thoughts drifted back to the beginning of our freshman year, the first time I met him. I was a small-town girl who had just moved to the city to attend its premier high school. I showed up carrying an oversized, cheap plastic moving bag stuffed to the brim with all my belongings. By the time I reached the school gates, it was too heavy to carry, so I just dragged it behind me. But I overestimated the quality of that bag. The friction against the concrete tore a massive hole in the bottom. I walked for quite a while before realizing the bag felt too light. I turned around and saw my things scattered all over the pavement. Textbooks, pens, toiletries, my lunchbox… The kids around me were all staring. Laughter echoed from all sides: “Wow, look at the country bumpkin.” “That bag is something else, man.” My face burned bright red. I crouched down and started retracing my steps, picking everything up. Not long after, I bumped right into a boy walking toward me. He was wearing a backpack, tall, with strikingly handsome features. He was holding a pile of my scattered belongings. “I picked up the stuff further down,” he said flatly. He looked over my shoulder at the shredded plastic bag on the ground. “Do you have another bag?” I shook my head awkwardly, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye. He thought for a second, pulled a few textbooks out of his own black backpack, and handed the bag to me. “Use this for now.” I took the backpack in a daze and looked up blankly. “How am I supposed to return it to you?” The boy pointed at the textbooks I had just picked up. “Aren’t you in Freshman Homeroom 3 too?” I froze, instinctively looking down at the textbooks he was holding. The name tag on the cover read his class and name. Freshman Homeroom 3. Ethan Sterling. … If we’re talking about who liked who first, I was definitely the one who fell for him first. Unfortunately, due to a mix of circumstances, that secret crush died a quiet death. After graduating from college, I joined an unknown, small startup for an internship, only to unexpectedly run into him again. That’s when I realized he was the one who founded the company. It just goes to show how the gap between people only widens over time. While I was still stressing over how to feed myself, Ethan had already started a business and climbed his way into the elite class. So, how did this love letter even come to exist? I racked my brain but couldn’t figure it out. Does Ethan still… Just thinking about it made my heart race, but before I could entertain the thought, I suddenly remembered the gossip the interns were whispering in the pantry. Ethan probably already has a fiancée. So this love letter, whether genuine or not, could only belong in the past. 5 While I was wallowing in melancholy, I heard Lily’s angry voice from the living room: “Leo! You broke your promise! I’m never playing with you again!” I cracked the door open and saw Lily holding her smartwatch up, currently on a call. The kid on the other end burst into tears the moment she spoke: “Please, I’m begging you, just give the letter back! My uncle came home unexpectedly today and found out I touched his stuff. He yelled at me so bad! I’ll give you a hundred bucks—no, I’ll give you all my Christmas money! Just give it back, please?” Maybe it was because he was crying so pitifully. Lily pouted and stayed quiet for a moment. She hesitated for a long time while the boy kept begging. “Fine, I’ll go talk to my sister.” She sounded conflicted. “It was supposed to be her present.” “Thank you so much!” The boy sounded immensely relieved. Then, he suddenly added, “Oh, by the way, my uncle should be at your house soon. He asked for your address and left half an hour ago. You can just hand the letter directly to him.” I jolted, practically launching myself out of the room. Grabbing Lily’s wrist to speak into her smartwatch, I demanded: “Hey kid, what’s your uncle’s name?” The boy stammered, “E-Ethan… Ethan Sterling.” Ding-dong— At that exact moment, the doorbell rang. I froze. I scrambled to the peephole and peeked out. Standing outside, waiting patiently, was Ethan. He was wearing casual clothes, his hair not perfectly slicked back like usual. He looked a bit more approachable. But that wasn’t the point. The point was, if I opened the door right now, things would get insanely awkward! How were we supposed to work together after this?! I turned and locked eyes with Lily. Just as she was about to speak, I slapped my hand over her mouth. “Listen to me. Go open the door. Don’t tell him I’m home, and definitely don’t tell him who your sister is.” I sprinted into my room, shoved the letter back into the envelope, and practically threw it at Lily. “Give this back to him, and then shut the door!” There was no time to worry about manners. Lily nodded. After I was safely hidden in my room, she trotted over and opened the door. … When the door opened, Ethan was about to speak, but he didn’t see anyone at eye level. He paused, looked down, and saw a little girl holding an envelope up to him. “Hi. Are you Leo’s uncle? “This is your stuff. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it.” The little girl looked so pitiful that the frown on Ethan’s face instinctively softened. “It’s okay. Leo sold it to you; it’s his fault.” He glanced at the envelope and asked, “Did you open it?” The tear marks on the flap were pretty obvious. Lily’s eyes darted around, and she immediately lied: “I’m sorry, mister. I was just really curious, so I peeked inside. But I don’t know how to read very well, so I didn’t understand it.” Ethan smiled and let it drop. He handed Lily an envelope of his own. “A belated holiday tip. Work hard in school.” He didn’t linger and left shortly after. Once the door closed, I stepped out of my room. Lily flashed me an “OK” sign. “Mission accomplished!” 6 On the final day of my vacation, I drove back to the city. As I was prepping my materials for a meeting the next day, I realized I had left a crucial document at the office. I needed to verify some data, and doing it the next morning would be cutting it too close. I only hesitated for a few seconds before grabbing my car keys and heading out. My apartment wasn’t far from the office—just a ten-minute drive. Our company occupied the top floor of a twenty-story building. Standing outside, I looked up at the lights glowing on the top floor and paused. Frank, the security guard returning from his patrol, spotted me. “Who’s there?” “Hey, Frank.” I waved. “Oh, it’s you, Summer.” Frank smiled. Having worked there for a few years, I was a familiar face. I asked him, “Is someone still up there this late?” Frank looked up. “I just came down from there. It’s your CEO, Mr. Sterling.” He clicked his tongue. “He’s been here since this morning, working non-stop. Guy’s a total workaholic.” … I slipped into the office, grabbed my document, and was trying to leave quietly when I noticed light spilling from the CEO’s office at the end of the hall. After a moment’s thought, I changed direction and walked toward it. I was about to knock but caught a glimpse inside through the open blinds. My raised hand stopped mid-air. Ethan was lying on the black leather sofa, his long legs slightly bent. He was wearing his pristine white dress shirt, but his tie hung loosely around his neck. The top two buttons were undone, revealing the sharp line of his collarbone. I froze, then gently pushed the door open, terrified of waking him. Ethan’s brows were slightly furrowed; even in sleep, he didn’t look at peace. In my memory, he was almost always like this. Those handsome brows rarely seemed to relax. But I also remembered a time when Ethan showed an incredibly gentle side. It was the spring of our junior year. We had been desk partners for a year. He was the math rep, and I was the biology rep. That afternoon, the teacher sent us to the print shop outside the school gates to pick up some test papers. As soon as I stepped out of the gate, I ran into my grandma, who had come to visit me. She was thrilled. “Summer! I was just wondering how I was going to get inside!” Our school usually didn’t allow outsiders in. She had taken a long bus ride from our small hometown, transferring multiple times, and managed to spot me right as she arrived. She held my hand and chattered away. Ethan was standing a short distance away, waiting for me. My grandma asked me, “Summer, did you share the homemade fudge brownies I asked you to give your classmates last week? Did they like them?” I smiled. “They loved them. They all said you’re a great cook.” “That’s wonderful!” The wrinkles on her face deepened with her smile. But I had lied. I ate all those brownies myself. At first, I offered them to my roommates, but I accidentally saw them throwing the bag into the trash. “It looks dirty. You’ll get sick eating that,” they had said. I couldn’t stand seeing my grandma’s hard work trashed like that. And as a teenager, I had my pride. So I ate every single one of those leftover brownies by myself. I asked my grandma to wait for me by the print shop. I told her I’d take her to get food as soon as I got the papers. But there was a problem with the biology tests, so I had to call the teacher to sort it out. When I finally came out, I saw Ethan keeping my grandma company. I heard my grandma ask him, “Did Summer share any of my brownies with you?” Ethan paused for a second, then smiled. “She did. They were delicious.” Hearing this, my grandma beamed even brighter. She immediately pulled a small bag from her tote bag, her eyes full of hope. “I have more right here. Do you want some?” Older folks are like that—they always instinctively save what they think is best for the younger generation. To my grandma, her homemade brownies were the absolute best thing she could offer her granddaughter to share with her friends. I looked at Ethan nervously. But to my surprise, he reached out, took a piece of the fudge, and ate it without hesitation. “Thank you, Nana.” His eyelashes were long, casting faint shadows under his eyes in the sunlight. His usually sharp features softened completely. I stared at him, mesmerized. I heard him praising me—telling her I had great grades, worked incredibly hard, was very kind, and had lots of friends. My grandma was so happy that day. And it was from that day on that I realized I kind of… liked him. 7 A secret crush is a chaotic, one-person war. I secretly paid attention to his every move, mimicking his little habits when he thought about problems, copying his handwriting. Even the slightest accidental physical contact between classes made my heart race. Just like that, I carefully collected these precious little moments. Before summer break of our junior year, I planned to confess my feelings to Ethan. But right around that time, rumors about him started spreading through the class. “I heard his mom and sister ran away because his dad beat them! And his dad went to prison last year for getting drunk and starting a riot!” “Are you serious? I always thought Ethan looked kind of dark and gloomy. He totally gives off the vibe of someone who would randomly punch you.” “It’s true. I heard violent tendencies are genetic. We better stay away from him.” “Oof, guess Ethan won’t be able to get a security clearance for a government job now.” Their tones were dripping with schadenfreude. I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped my head around and glared at them. “Someone’s just bitter that he always gets first place while you’re permanently stuck in second, huh?” The guy froze, then cursed: “Are you crazy?!” “You’re the crazy one! Rabid dog!” To be honest, I was usually very timid and rarely got into fierce arguments. Worse, I was the type who cried when I got angry. The argument barely started before my eyes were already red and welling up. So when Ethan walked into the classroom behind the teacher, the sight that greeted him was me, crying and cursing someone out, looking like an absolute mess. The guy and I were sent to stand in the hallway as punishment. The teacher asked us why we were fighting. We looked at each other and both chose to stay silent. He was silent out of guilt. I was silent because I was afraid Ethan would be hurt if he heard. … My secret crush also ended that summer. The day I finally gathered the courage to confess to him was the last day of summer break. Following an address from memory, I found Ethan’s house. It was an old, run-down alleyway, houses crammed together. Two or three people were peering into the courtyard of Ethan’s house. “He’s beating the kid again. It’s a sin!” “Shouldn’t we go stop him? What if he kills him?” “Don’t! Old Yang tried to break it up a few days ago, and that bastard hit Old Yang too!” I hurried forward just as a massive crash echoed from the courtyard. Through the gate, I saw the front door get kicked open. Ethan was thrown out onto the ground. “You little punk.” A tall man walked out and kicked Ethan squarely in the side. “You actually dared to hit back?!” The man was tall but heavily intoxicated, stumbling on his feet. Ethan wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, scrambled up, and tackled the man to the ground. “Why don’t you just die?!” “Why don’t you just die?!” Ethan wrestled with him. The man got enraged and hit back harder, cursing, “Even if I die, I’m taking you with me! You little punk, you think because you’re older now your wings are fully grown? Let me tell you, my blood flows in your veins! You’re my son, and you’ll never escape me for the rest of your life!” “Look! You look exactly like me when you hit people!” The man laughed manically. “You’re my son! My son!” Ethan’s raised fist froze in mid-air, then dropped in defeat. He stumbled to his feet, looking down at the man on the ground. The teenage boy had already grown very tall. He had the strength to protect himself now. “I am not like you,” Ethan said. “I am the valedictorian. I was before, and I will be in the future. I’m going to get into the best university, study the best major, and make something of myself. I’m going to walk a completely different path from you. “I am nothing like you.” His words dropped like a bomb in my heart. Suddenly, I understood why Ethan studied so desperately hard. Because he didn’t believe in fate. He wanted to change his destiny. Looking down at the love letter in my hand, I actually felt a wave of shame. Maybe I shouldn’t confess. To Ethan, it would probably just be a nuisance. A burden. I called the police. I waited until the cops arrived, then silently walked out of that alley. And buried my teenage crush deep in my heart. Until graduation. Ethan wasn’t just the valedictorian of our school; he was the state science fair champion. Flowers and applause surrounded him. Calls from Ivy League recruiters poured in constantly. Although I got into a decent state college, compared to Ethan, it felt completely insignificant. The gap between us was firmly established in that moment. My teenage crush ended amidst my endless hesitations and second-guessing. At the high school graduation ceremony. I stood next to Ethan, staring straight ahead, but tilting my head slightly toward him: “Ethan, I wish you a bright future.” Ethan paused for a second, his voice as clear and crisp as ever: “Thank you. I wish you a bright future too.” And with that, our youth drew to a close. 8 In the quiet office, I looked at the man in front of me. Ethan, you’ve made it to the top, so why don’t you look happy? A half-finished, cold cup of coffee sat on the coffee table, surrounded by scattered documents. Ethan looked genuinely exhausted. Dark shadows hung under his eyes, and a light stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked completely unguarded, and somehow, vulnerable. I stared at him for a few seconds, picked up his suit jacket from the side, and gently draped it over him. But the moment I let go, a hand firmly clamped around my wrist. I jolted, looking up to meet Ethan’s eyes, my heart skipping a beat. His gaze was a bit hazy at first, but quickly sharpened. His grip was tight, and I frowned in pain. Ethan loosened his grip, his voice raspy. “Why are you here?” I took a step back and replied, “I came back to grab a document. I saw the lights were on, so I came to check.” Ethan glanced at the jacket that had slid down to his lap. He stayed silent for two seconds, then got up to pour a glass of water. I was about to quietly slip out when I heard him call my name. I stopped. “Mr. Sterling, did you need something else?” He looked at me. A few seconds later, he said, “I’m sorry for having a bad attitude toward you in front of the interns earlier.” I didn’t expect him to apologize to me so suddenly. I quickly said, “It’s fine. It really was our team’s fault. I take full responsibility. Please don’t worry about it, Mr. Sterling.” Ethan paused. “You…” For some reason, I felt incredibly nervous. Just as my heart was about to jump into my throat, I heard his tone shift. “You should head home early. Drive safe.” “Will do, Mr. Sterling.” I softly opened the door and walked out, letting out a long breath. … I worked for five days straight. After clocking out on Friday, I went back to my apartment and slept like the dead. When I finally woke up, it was almost 10 PM. I picked up my phone and saw hundreds of new messages in the intern group chat. Maya, one of the interns, had lost a necklace. It was a jade Buddha her mom had specially gotten blessed at a temple for her. It meant a lot to her. She had searched everywhere but couldn’t find it, and was asking if anyone had seen it. “Could the cleaning lady have picked it up? What if she swept it away as trash?” I sent a voice memo to calm her down: “Don’t panic. Do you know roughly what time you lost it? I’ll check the security cameras for you.” Maya thought about it carefully. “Probably around 4 or 5 PM. I got hot and took off my jacket, maybe it fell off then.” As a director, I had access to the security footage, so I immediately pulled up today’s recordings. I found Maya’s desk and watched it back and forth several times. Finally, zooming in, I saw that when Maya took off her jacket, something fell from her person and was accidentally kicked under a desk by a passing coworker. I breathed a sigh of relief, screen-recorded the clip, and sent it to Maya. “Ahhhh, thank you so much, Summer! I’ll go get it on Monday!” “No problem. Glad we found it.” I exited the chat. I was about to close the security footage when my finger slipped on the mouse, jumping the video forward to 9 PM. Ethan’s figure flashed across the screen. I paused, surprised. Did Ethan really stay until 9 PM tonight? But then I felt confused. Ethan’s route out of the office didn’t pass by this area… Driven by curiosity, I clicked, rewinding the footage a few seconds. On the screen, Ethan appeared from one side, his target clear—he walked straight to my desk. Me: “?” He paused at my desk for two seconds. After he walked away, I could clearly see that a few caramel truffles had been left on my desk. My eyes widened, and I shot up straight in bed. There was candy on my desk almost every single day. I always assumed an early-arriving coworker was leaving them, and I ate them all without a second thought. Could it be… I hit the keyboard, pulling up the footage from the past few days. I skipped to 8 or 9 PM each night. Sure enough, I saw Ethan again. The one leaving the candy had always been him. Bzzzz— My phone vibrating broke my train of thought. Seeing the caller ID, my heart dropped. Why was Ethan calling me at this hour? I hit answer, but a strange woman’s voice came through. “Hello? Is this Summer Hastings?” “Yes, this is she. And you are…” “Mr. Sterling is drunk. You might need to come pick him up.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391846”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The “engagement dinner” had just ended, and my boyfriend made it Instagram official. I zoomed in on the photo, only to find my wrist sporting a thick, gold Cartier-style bracelet, a heavy diamond necklace resting against my collarbone, and massive diamond studs edited onto my ears. His caption read: [Even with flawless diamonds hitting record highs today, I still want to give you the absolute best.] The comments section was blowing up. Our friends were universally praising him as the ultimate provider, a good man who spent every last dime spoiling his girl. A few minutes later, my boyfriend replied to a thread: [🐶😊 Chloe is my future wife, of course I’m going to spoil her rotten! You know what they say: Happy wife, happy life. Treat your queen right, and the universe rewards you with success.] I looked down at my bare, empty wrist. Suddenly, I was wide awake. 1 “Babe, you are so fake for this! How are you going to get engaged and not even tell me?” I had barely stepped into my apartment when my best friend, Sarah, called. I accidentally tapped the speakerphone button, and her teasing voice echoed through the room: “Gotta hand it to Liam, though. He’s got serious cash to drop on you. That diamond necklace? And those earrings? Absolutely blinded me.” “What diamonds?” This year’s New York winter was especially brutal. Coming inside to the blasting radiator heat made my face feel hot and tight. “Liam’s Instagram post! He’s in the comments talking about ‘happy wife, happy life.’ Honestly, locking you down is the best move he’s ever made.” With stiff fingers, I opened Instagram. The very first post on my feed was Liam’s official announcement. In the photo, my neck and ears were sparkling, not to mention the heavy gold bangle that looked at least an inch thick on my wrist. Gold and diamond prices had been skyrocketing lately. Coupled with Liam’s caption about giving me the best despite the market, it had drawn everyone’s attention. Liam and I had been together since college, and we shared a lot of mutual friends. I swiped through the comments, but there were too many to read. The ones that stung the most were from his old fraternity brothers. Brother A: [Yooo, so this is what it takes to lock down Chloe? She doesn’t come cheap!] Brother B: [Congrats, man! Third time dropping a bag on a proposal and you finally got her to say yes.] Brother C: [My guy is moving up in the world! When are you bringing the future Mrs. out to buy the boys dinner? We don’t ask for much, just keep it to the standard of that engagement ring.] “Babe? Chloe?!” Sarah seemed to sense something was wrong through my prolonged silence. She asked tentatively, “What’s wrong?” I looked down at my empty wrist. My eyes stung. “Tonight wasn’t an engagement dinner…” Right then, a text from Liam popped up. My screen vibrated, and I saw his hesitant message: [Babe, you home yet?] [My parents are coming to the city for Thanksgiving. They want to meet your parents. Is that cool?] [Also… jewelry is just so overpriced right now. Let’s skip the expensive engagement rings when we actually get married. That stuff costs as much as a Manhattan rent deposit, it’s really not worth it…] Staring at his rambling texts, my patience finally snapped. [Then what is the meaning of that Instagram post?] [We literally just had a normal dinner tonight. Why did you tell everyone we’re engaged?] [And the diamond necklace? The Cartier bracelet? What is going on?] The typing bubble at the top of the screen appeared and disappeared. After a long time, he finally replied, defensive and irritated. [Yeah, I used an AI app to Photoshop the jewelry on you.] [I just wanted to look good in front of my frat brothers and coworkers. Is that a crime?!] [Sarah heavily edits and filters her selfies all the time. I just Photoshopped some jewelry. Why are you blowing this out of proportion?] Blowing it out of proportion? Never mind the fact that Liam and I worked at the same tech firm. Dozens of our coworkers and managers were on his Instagram. He knew perfectly well that after the holidays, I was up for a critical promotion to management. The company never said it out loud, but the unspoken rule was that they frowned upon promoting women who were about to get married or go on maternity leave. The corporate ladder was already hostile enough for women, and he had just thrown a massive, unnecessary roadblock in my path. More importantly—I hadn’t even said yes to marrying him! On the phone, Sarah suddenly gasped. “Holy crap!” “Chloe! Liam is in the comments saying you guys are trying for a baby! Is that true?!” I refreshed the page, only to find that Liam had restricted my account. I couldn’t see the post anymore. 2 Liam and I had been together for five years. We started dating in the spring of our junior year. When we got together, he asked me repeatedly if I minded that he came from a poor farming town in the Midwest, that he was broke, and that he was drowning in student loans. Back then, I just smiled like an idiot. I thought I had hit the jackpot. Liam was poor, but he was brilliant. We constantly fought for the top spot on the Dean’s List. His roommates told me he was meticulous and scrubbed their dorm clean every weekend. Plus, he was gorgeous. He had sharp, striking features and stood at a solid six-foot-two. That same year, my dad’s business went under. I was too embarrassed to ask my parents for an allowance, so I took a job serving food in the campus dining hall. Even wearing a hairnet and mask, feeling the stares of classmates I knew made my face burn with shame. One day, an arrogant pre-med student—a guy I regularly beat in exams—stood on the other side of the glass sneering at me. He complained that his beef stew only had potatoes, then whined that his pasta was overcooked, intentionally trying to humiliate me. The line behind him was backing up, and the murmurs were getting louder. That was when Liam appeared. He took the serving spoon right out of my hand and expertly scooped a perfect portion onto his own tray. The pre-med guy opened his mouth to complain, but Liam’s voice was icy: “You got your food. Move.” The guy glared at me but eventually slinked away. After that day, Liam was always looking out for me. Then, toward the end of our junior year, a miracle happened. Some old factory land my dad bought years ago was purchased by commercial developers. A massive windfall hit our family—enough that we would never have to worry about money again. I quit the dining hall job. The day I quit, Liam confessed his feelings. “Chloe, I’m in love with you.” My heart nearly leapt out of my chest. “But…” He hesitated. “I don’t have money. My family is broke. Even with my scholarships, the second I graduate, every paycheck is going straight to my student loans.” “Knowing all that, do you still want to be with me?” At the time, my family was newly rich. My dad spent his days bragging about the zeros in his bank account. With zero financial worries of my own, I was fully prepared to dive into a romance where money didn’t matter. I nodded vigorously and promised I didn’t care. Liam let out a huge breath of relief and took my hand. I held onto that hand for five years. In those five years, Liam “proposed” to me three times. The first time was at our graduation. Riding an adrenaline high, he snatched a bouquet of carnations his frat brother was supposed to give to a professor and dropped to one knee in front of the whole quad. The second time was our second year in the workforce. He had finally paid off his student loans. He took me out for cheap tacos, downed a few beers, and proposed using the aluminum pull-tab from his beer can. The third time… The third time was this past New Year’s Eve. He actually put effort into it. He booked my favorite ski resort, dressed up in a ridiculous bear mascot costume, and bought roses and champagne. But it was also that exact proposal that led to a massive fight. It ended in disaster. We had been giving each other the silent treatment for a month until tonight, when he asked me to dinner to apologize. And that dinner resulted in this absurd “engagement” and the AI-generated jewelry. “Chloe… what are you thinking?” Sarah asked over the phone. What was I thinking? I forced a bitter smile. Over the past month of our cold war, the word breakup had been hovering on the tip of my tongue countless times. That night, my sleep was plagued by nightmares. I dreamt I was running, and Liam was chasing me, holding jewelry folded out of gold foil wrappers. He was screaming, “Chloe! Marry me! If you don’t like the AI jewelry, I made you some out of paper!” 3 I woke up in a cold sweat at 4:00 AM. Unable to go back to sleep, I went into the office early. The power in the third-floor breakroom was out, so I took my mug down to the second floor. Just as I reached the landing between floors, someone pushed open the fire-escape door, chatting with the person behind them. “With prices this high, you really dropped that kind of cash on diamonds for her?” Diamonds. The word set off alarm bells in my head. I quietly stepped back and hid in the shadow of the stairwell. A familiar voice sighed. It was Liam. “Honestly, man, I’ll level with you. I Photoshopped it.” His tone was heavy, like he was carrying the weight of the world. “You know my background. I grew up with nothing. I can’t afford the kind of rings Chloe expects. I just wanted to save face for her. She’s always saying that once people see you in an outfit, it’s basically secondhand. I figured if I Photoshopped the jewelry and everyone saw it, it’s practically the same as her owning it.” “But… she threw a massive fit over it.” The man across from him was silent for a moment before speaking. “I always thought she was just a bit overly ambitious.” “I never realized she was this shallow.” “You’ve got the patience of a saint.” Liam’s voice was filled with nothing but helpless resignation. “What can I do? We’ve been together for years. I just have to take the hit.” I peeked through the gap in the stairwell. Standing across from Liam, smoking an e-cigarette, was David—the senior manager who mentored me when I first joined the company. David was notoriously strict and unsmiling. When I was first assigned to his team, I had actually complained to Liam about him. Liam had convinced me to stick it out, saying that a year under David was worth three years under anyone else. Surprisingly, the first time David met me, he smiled. “You’re Chloe? I remember the portfolio you submitted. Great work.” He dropped his harsh exterior and patiently mentored me. To me, he was both a teacher and a friend. But not long after, at the company retreat, Liam—who had agreed to keep our office romance a secret—suddenly grabbed my hand during an all-hands meeting, announcing our relationship to the entire firm. Shortly after that, David abruptly removed me from his core project team. When I chased him down to ask why, he just pressed his lips together and said coldly, “I don’t keep team members with ulterior motives.” He had looked at me with such ice in his eyes, as if I had committed an unforgivable crime. Yet right now, David was patting Liam on the shoulder like a brother. “If you hadn’t warned me back then that Chloe was a flight risk and planning to leak our core data, I never would have guessed she was that kind of person,” David said darkly. “You really can’t judge a book by its cover.” “Are you seriously going to marry a woman like that?” “Listen, Liam. I have a friend from grad school. If you want…” Under the dim fluorescent lights, I stared blankly at Liam’s shadowed face. The core project data had always been securely stored on my encrypted laptop. I had never leaked it. The only time it was ever vulnerable was one weekend when Liam claimed his hard drive crashed and borrowed my laptop to “work overtime.” After I was kicked off the team, Liam was mysteriously drafted onto it the very next quarter. He quickly got a promotion, got a raise, and paid off the rest of his student loans. “No,” Liam said, suddenly looking up, brushing away the gloom. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to take responsibility for Chloe for the rest of my life.” “No matter how awful she is.” Looking at the fierce, self-righteous expression on Liam’s face, a massive question mark exploded in my head. Why? My brain was a tangled mess. Tiny details I had forgotten over the years suddenly rapidly unspooled. Then, as the motion-sensor lights flickered off— It all made sense. 4 To verify the incredibly absurd theory forming in my head, I immediately took PTO and rushed back to my apartment. During our cold war, I had kicked Liam out to stay at a friend’s place. Sitting on the coffee table was an old iPad Liam had been meaning to sell online. If I was lucky, his iMessage and iCloud were still logged in. Months ago, he had complained about running out of storage, so I had upgraded him to the highest tier of cloud backup on my dime. Everything synced automatically. I knew I would find exactly what I was looking for. And I did. In the dead silence of my apartment, my knuckles turned white gripping the tablet. I scrolled back five years. Back before we were officially dating, right after he ‘heroically’ defended me in the dining hall, he was texting his college roommates: [Some people will put on a pathetic act just to get out of doing real work.] On graduation day, when he hastily proposed with stolen flowers, he told me it was an impulse and it was okay if I said no. But to his frat brother, he texted: [Chloe thinks carnations are too cheap. She’s demanding 999 roses before she’ll say yes.] When he borrowed my laptop, he fabricated a digital trail making it look like I was trying to sell David’s core data to a rival firm. Then he turned around and begged David not to fire me, playing the hero who prevented the leak, effectively securing his own spot on David’s team. When I teased him that his second proposal with a beer tab lacked a bit of effort, he spent the entire night complaining in his department’s group chat, playing the self-deprecating martyr: [I guess it’s true what they say. Love without money is like sand in the wind. How am I supposed to afford a 5-carat diamond?] When coworkers gasped and asked if I specifically demanded five carats, he stayed silent, letting their imaginations run wild. And then came this past New Year’s Eve. He booked the resort, put on the suit, and I admit—when he took off the heavy mascot head, sweating and smiling, I was genuinely moved. Until I noticed his phone propped up on a tripod, live-streaming the entire thing. He had sent the link to all our college alumni and colleagues. Hundreds of people were watching. In that moment, I couldn’t tell if he actually loved me or if I was just a prop for his performance. We had a screaming match and didn’t speak for a month. What I only discovered now was that after I stormed off that night, Liam kept the livestream running for hours. His frat brothers took turns joining the stream, calling me a gold-digging opportunist and urging him to dump me. Brother A aggressively demanded: “With your tech salary, you’re doing just as well as these Manhattan girls. Dump her. You can find someone younger and richer. Why are you hung up on her?!” Liam played the role of the tragic, loyal boyfriend to perfection. “We’ve been together for five years. She gave me her best years. Walking away now would be a betrayal.” “Besides, she’s not a bad person. It’s just her background. Her best friend Sarah is gorgeous and loaded. It makes sense that Chloe feels insecure and wants more material proof of my love.” “I just need to work harder. Once I save enough, I’ll bring her home.” With just a few sentences, he solidified his image as the ultimate devoted partner. But during our month-long cold war, Liam had been actively swiping on dating apps and meeting new women. Yet, upon entering the brutal New York dating market, he quickly realized that a handsome face and a decent tech job weren’t enough to secure the wealthy, elite city girls he secretly desired. He hit a wall. And so, he orchestrated this dinner to break the ice and win me back. He didn’t propose because he loved me. He proposed because, after weighing the pros and cons, I—the girl with an apartment, no debt, and blind devotion to him—was his safest safety net. That was why he used AI to generate the jewelry on Instagram to mark his territory. If he hadn’t restricted me from the post, I would have stayed in the dark forever. I sat frozen on my sofa, my blood turning to ice. I couldn’t move a muscle. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. Sarah sent me a photo. I zoomed in. Liam was smiling brightly at a café. Sitting across from him was a young woman, and next to her was David—setting up the blind date he had promised. 5 [Chloe, what the hell is this?] Sarah texted. Sarah and I grew up together. She was the only person who knew my true financial situation. After surviving my family’s bankruptcy, the debt collectors at our door, my exhausting shifts, and our sudden massive windfall, I became incredibly private about money. I never flaunted it. To Liam, I was just a middle-class girl with an apartment. I called Sarah and quickly gave her the rundown. She was seething. “That absolute parasite! I am going to ruin his little blind date right now…” Before she could finish, she suddenly burst into vindictive laughter. “Oh my god, never mind! The girl just asked about his family background. Her face went pale, and she literally walked out before the coffee arrived.” “Seriously, Chloe, what did you ever see in him? Sure, his job is okay, but with his salary, he couldn’t afford a down payment on a shoe box in Queens. His parents have medical debt, and his older brother is a deadbeat who lives in their basement…” I didn’t say anything. I asked myself the same question: What did I see in him? To my face, Liam was gentle, polite, passionate, and responsible. But in the shadows, he spread rumors, stabbed me in the back, and manipulated my image. He was a leech, sucking the life out of me to make himself look better. The more monstrous I looked to the outside world, the more saintly he appeared by comparison. If I actually married him, my family’s wealth would be used to prop up his entire existence. I morbidly wondered: if he found out my family had an eight-figure bank account, how would he spin my “gold digger” narrative then? But the thought vanished instantly. I wasn’t going to have a future with this man. The sun began to set, casting a faint glow through the window. When Liam’s text finally came through, I snapped out of my daze. In just a few hours, my heart had been on a rollercoaster—from fury, to breakdown, to self-doubt, and finally landing on absolute, cold clarity. I wiped away tears I hadn’t realized I shed. My mind was made up. [Babe, I was so vain for posting that yesterday. I was wrong. Can you forgive me?] [I bought tickets for my parents and my brother. They’ll be in New York for Thanksgiving. Let’s get both our families together for dinner. Please?] I let him sweat. I could picture his face on the other end perfectly. Brows furrowed, unconsciously biting his nails, pacing anxiously for my reply. I watched the typing bubble appear and disappear for hours. I made dinner, took a shower, and only then picked up my phone. [Sure.] [But send me a photo of your family first. I don’t want to accidentally greet the wrong people at the restaurant. That would be embarrassing.] 6 Probably because his blind dates kept crashing and burning, Liam became incredibly attentive. He kept hovering around my desk at work, dropping hints about when he could move back into my apartment. I deflected every time. During those weeks, I broke my lease on the small apartment. I threw away every single thing tied to Liam—the cheap stuffed animals, the yellowing phone cases, the photobooth strips. Five years of a relationship, bagged up like garbage and tossed into the dumpster. I told my parents everything. Furious, my dad immediately bought a luxury penthouse in Manhattan under my name and wired seven figures into my personal account. “Money is an adult’s armor,” my parents told me. “And we are your fortress.” Armed with that fortress, I went to Liam’s Thanksgiving dinner. Standing outside the private dining room, I could hear the raucous cheers through the heavy oak door. Loud. Very loud. The moment he sent me the restaurant address, I knew this was going to be the “grand, public proposal” he had promised his audience. I pushed the doors open. Instantly, dozens of eyes locked onto me. Liam was the first to stand up, walking toward me with a massive bouquet of flowers. His face was a mask of tender affection. Behind him were our college friends, colleagues, his frat brothers, and his parents and brother. He slowly pushed a worn, patched-up cloth bag across the table toward me. He dropped to one knee and untied the string. Inside were crumpled bills. Very few hundreds; mostly tens, fives, and ones. “Babe, you always said my proposals weren’t formal enough, not grand enough.” “This time, my family is here. Our friends and colleagues are here. With everyone as my witness, I am offering you my absolute all. This is the life savings my parents scraped together for my wedding. It’s exactly $13,268.” “I know it’s not a lot to someone from the city, but this is everything my humble family has to give to our new life together.” He had clearly rehearsed this. His voice trembled with orchestrated emotion, every word echoing with noble sacrifice. “So, Chloe Bennett, will you marry me?” I looked at his frat brothers. Beneath their fake excitement, I saw the gleam of mockery. To them, it was the perfect joke: the greedy city girl forced to accept the broke country boy’s pennies. “Say yes! Say yes!” his roommate chanted. “He already got you the diamonds! You can’t say no now!” I stood there in dead silence. The cheering slowly died down, replaced by a bizarre, heavy tension. You could hear a pin drop. Brother B clicked his tongue, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Wow. Liam bought the jewelry, brought his life savings, flew his family out here. You show up late, your parents didn’t even bother coming, and you’re still acting like you’re too good for him?” Liam frowned, playing the hurt puppy. “Chloe, we agreed both our parents would be here…” I reached into my bag, pulled out a stack of oversized, high-gloss printed photos, and slammed them into his chest. Hard. The top photo was an AI-generated family portrait. Liam’s real family was on one side, but the “bride’s” family was composed entirely of AI-generated avatars. It looked terrifyingly fake. “What is this?” he demanded, shocked and angry. “You love using AI, don’t you? If you can Photoshop diamond rings, I can Photoshop a family portrait. Consider our parents officially introduced.” I tossed the next photo on the table. It was a poorly edited image of a pink carnation drowning in a sea of 999 red roses. I looked directly at the frat brother whose flowers Liam had stolen years ago. “Chad, right? Years ago, Liam stole your carnations and told everyone I rejected him because I demanded 999 roses. Consider the debt paid.” Chad stared at the photo, dumbfounded. “Photoshop…? Wait, what?” I smiled sweetly. “Liam told everyone that as long as you guys see the Photoshopped jewelry, it counts as me owning it. So, you’ve seen the roses. That means he bought them. Flawless logic, right?” Next, I pulled out an absurdly scaled photo of a 5-carat diamond ring and slid it toward his coworkers. “I never asked for a 5-carat diamond. I got a beer tab. But I’m gifting him a picture of one. Fair trade, wouldn’t you say?” “…” The photos rained down on the floor like snow. The final item I threw was a cheap, plastic jewelry set coated in fake gold paint I bought off Temu for $9.99. “You faked diamond jewelry for Instagram. I bought you plastic jewelry. How’s that for matching your energy?!” I looked at him with pure disgust. “For five years, you played me for a fool.” “Now it’s your turn to see how it feels.” Amidst the stunned silence of the room, I grabbed my purse, turned on my heel, and walked out. On the cab ride home, my phone didn’t stop vibrating. By the time I walked into my new penthouse, I had over a hundred missed calls. His latest text was pathetically desperate: [Chloe, I know I have a fragile ego. I know I’m poor. But I never wanted to hurt you. If you asked me to, I would literally die for you.] [Please, for the sake of our five years together, don’t throw me away like this.] Right now, to him, I was a winning lottery ticket he was terrified of losing. I knew the battle wasn’t over. But with the truth on my side, I wasn’t afraid of him anymore.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391845”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I transmigrated as the beautiful ex-wife of an autistic male lead. Even though I talked to him eight hundred times a day, he still refused to spare me a single glance. So, I gave up and decided to just chill. The system told me to curry favor with the male lead. I kicked his shoulder and told him to go make me a three-course meal with soup. While he was sweating over the stove, furiously wielding a spatula, I chewed on my boba pearls and directed him: “Next time you order me boba, make sure it’s 30% sugar, no ice, and add a cheese foam on top.” Later, when this almighty, powerful billionaire was attending a top-tier executive meeting, a phone alarm suddenly went off. Everyone in the room held their breath. The notoriously unsmiling man faintly curled his lips: “It’s time. I have to order her boba first.” 1 Transmigrating as the beautiful ex-wife of an autistic male lead. At first, I refused. You have to understand, I’ve loved talking since I was a kid. When I go back to my hometown for the holidays, my mouth alone can leave a dozen gossiping old ladies speechless. I post on Facebook more than ten times a day. My voice memos are always a full 60 seconds. Staring at the tightly locked bedroom door, I banged on it while wailing: “System, look at this! Is this reasonable?!” I had been married to Arthur Sterling for two years. He spent most of his time locked in his room, not speaking, just tinkering with his woodwork. Every day, I stood outside his door, chanting like a monk about everything that happened over the past few days. For example, today the boba shop skimped on the pearls, 50% sugar was way too sweet, the neighbor Mrs. Smith’s son’s cat just had three kittens, and so on. But I never heard a single word in response. I was stuck talking to the air and the potted plants every day. If this kept up, I was going to become autistic myself! The system came up with a terrible idea: use my beauty. Wearing something incredibly revealing, I stood outside his door and cooed, “Arthur~” Well, I don’t know if the guy inside got hot, but I definitely started burning up. I ran a fever for two whole nights. I almost thought I was going to die. Arthur suddenly noticed the silence. Realizing something was wrong, he came out of his room, found my brain practically frying from the fever, and hurriedly called 911 to get me to the hospital. But even then, he still refused to speak to me. I knew he could speak. I knew he could hear me. In a fit of anger, I gave up. Whoever wants to woo him can do it themselves. 2 2:00 PM the next day. I woke up starving. As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw an incredibly handsome face and a pair of deep, dark eyes. It was Arthur. I have to admit, as the male lead, Arthur was objectively gorgeous. His features were sharp and chiseled. He was 6’2″, with a broad frame and a narrow waist—an extreme physical contrast to me. No wonder, even though he was autistic and currently just a despised illegitimate son, there were still countless women in our social circle waiting to push me out and become the new Mrs. Sterling. I could appreciate the view, but I couldn’t eat it. So frustrating! Annoyed, I rolled over. Only then did it slowly dawn on me that I was sleeping naked! I instantly dove under the covers. I roared, “Arthur Sterling! Why are you in my room?!” Of course, Arthur didn’t answer. Blushing furiously, I grabbed my pajamas from under the covers and hastily pulled them on. I peeked out from a tiny crack in the blanket. There was hot water and cold medicine on the nightstand. He was actually pretty nice. Even though our marriage was arranged by his late mother and we had no romantic feelings for each other… Once the female lead appeared, our flimsy, better-than-nothing three-year marriage would come to an end. No fighting, no drama, just an amicable divorce. But for these three years, Arthur and I had treated each other with polite respect. Arthur’s ears were bright red. He coughed lightly, looked away, and with a slightly inexperienced touch, felt my forehead. Then he let out a low sigh of relief. The fever had broken. I clutched my stomach, looking at him with puppy-dog eyes. “Arthur, I’m hungry.” Hearing this, he froze, looking at me in disbelief. I held out both my hands, looking incredibly innocent: “Look at what the grease and smoke in the kitchen have done to my hands! A few more trips to the kitchen and I’ll turn into a haggard old woman! I’m not going, I’m not going.” His frown deepened, his eyes filled with even more confusion. I felt a little guilty. “Fine, I admit I usually just order takeout, I don’t cook.” Arthur opened a food delivery app on his phone and handed it to me. I pushed it away: “Takeout is bad for you! Especially for someone recovering from an illness! It’s all processed meat. It’s better not to eat at all!” Finally, he opened an electronic recipe book. It featured basic dishes like tomato and egg stir-fry, pepper steak, steamed pork ribs, etc. My eyes lit up, and I quickly pointed to a few: “This one, this one, and this one. I want them all.” The system sighed helplessly: [You are the weakest host I’ve ever had. How did you catch a cold from that?!] [Also, you’re really just letting him in the kitchen? Aren’t you afraid he’ll poison you or blow the place up? The male lead has autism right now, can you show a little more patience?!] “I’m a patient too! Besides, what does autism have to do with cooking?!” [You’re just making excuses!] “I’m speaking the truth!” “System, didn’t you say the male lead is a genius and can learn anything? Is a little bit of cooking really going to stump him?” The system grew frantic: [Is the male lead’s high IQ supposed to be used for THIS?!] Why not? Life is just three meals a day. Who says dealing with groceries and cooking doesn’t require intelligence? 3 Not long after, Arthur knocked on my door. As soon as I opened it, the smell of home-cooked food wafted in. I hadn’t smelled something so comforting in a long time. When I was little, my parents were always busy. No one ever cooked for me; all three meals were just takeout, takeout, takeout. On my eighteenth birthday, we finally sat down together. They asked me what I wanted for a present. I said I wanted to eat a home-cooked meal one day. They looked at each other and awkwardly agreed. But the day after I turned eighteen, they got divorced. They had their own futures and careers to run to, and I was just proof of a past they were ashamed of. Neither of them wanted to take me. I never got to eat that meal. Arthur really was gifted. The food was incredible. I angrily devoured three huge bowls of rice. Crying while I ate. Arthur just stared at me, completely dumbfounded. He reached out and wiped a grain of rice from the corner of my mouth. “Arthur, you’re amazing.” Hearing this, Arthur looked up at me, thinking he had misheard. Seeing me staring at him unblinking, he abruptly lowered his head, pretending to be very busy with his bowl and chopsticks, but his ears were burning red. Of course, I, focused entirely on eating, didn’t notice any of these details. I reached out and grabbed the last piece of braised pork belly from the plate. Just as I was about to put it in my bowl and eat it with my rice, I suddenly realized something… Arthur hadn’t eaten a single piece. There weren’t many pieces to begin with—only six in total. I had just eaten five, and this was the last one. After thinking for a second, I gently pulled his chopsticks from his hand and placed the last piece of meat into his bowl. “You eat it. I’ve had enough.” Arthur didn’t touch the meat for a long time. I frowned. “Are you not eating it because you think it’s gross that it was almost in my bowl?” Arthur lowered his eyes and took a bite of the pork belly. The system’s roar echoed in my head: [Host! What are you doing?! Didn’t I tell you the male lead NEVER eats braised pork belly?!] [When he was a kid, a puppy he raised was slaughtered by the Sterling family and made into braised pork belly! He hasn’t eaten it since!] [Host, I’m seriously done with you! How can a person mess up this badly?!] I grabbed my hair in frustration. The system had told me Arthur didn’t eat braised pork belly, but I just thought he was a picky eater! Who knew it was because of something like that?! No wonder he looked a bit strange when I told him to make it earlier. “Stop eating it.” I took the piece of pork belly out of his bowl. “Arthur, I forgot. We’ll never eat braised pork belly again.” Arthur might look cold on the outside, but underneath, he was just a normal guy who grew up sensitive and insecure. He didn’t say a word. The atmosphere grew tense again. I grabbed a piece of steamed rib. “Arthur, from now on, you’re in charge of all three meals a day, okay?” I had never been married before transmigrating, so I didn’t know how a married couple was supposed to act. Even though our three-year marriage only had one year left, we saw each other every single day; we should at least try to live comfortably. “No matter what, we’re married right now, so we need to divide the household chores. You’ll be in charge of washing vegetables, cooking, doing the dishes, doing laundry, mopping the floors… I’ll let you know the rest when I think of it.” He put down his chopsticks and looked at me, bewildered. His expression clearly said, “Are you serious?” I have very thick skin. “Why are you looking at me like that? I have my own chores too! I’m responsible for making this house lively! Do you know how exhausting it is for me to say eight hundred sentences a day by myself?! You don’t even appreciate my hard work!” Arthur suddenly reached out his hand. I instinctively shielded my bowl: “What are you doing? Trying to steal my food?!” He slowly spat out two words: “Doing dishes.” I froze. This was the first time I had ever heard him speak. His voice was so nice. I instantly got excited. “Did you just speak?! Can you say a little more? Your voice is so nice! This is great! If you talk more, I won’t have to put on a one-woman show anymore! It’s so boring being the only one talking in this house. Just say a few more words! Do you want me to go find you a microphone?!” I babbled on and on. And was rewarded with exactly one word. “No.” Okay, fine. At least he’s willing to open his mouth. Even if it’s just one or two words at a time. But no matter what, saying two words is better than saying nothing. Otherwise, this house would be way too quiet. “I’m done eating. Thanks for doing the dishes, Hubby~” This was the first time Arthur had heard that title. As he took my bowl, his movements were a bit stiff. He pressed his lips together, clearly not understanding, but he still did as I asked. I nodded in deep satisfaction. Arthur definitely had the potential to be the perfect, dutiful husband. I crossed my legs and casually gave his waist a light kick: “If you don’t respond, it makes me look really awkward.” His whole body stiffened, and he forced out a single word as if it pained him: “Mhm.” I smiled brightly: “Hubby is the best!” Arthur’s face flushed red, and he practically sprinted to the kitchen with the bowls. 4 While Arthur was in the kitchen doing dishes. I lay on the sofa trying to pick a boba tea, torn between two different shops, when the doorbell suddenly rang. I got up, walked to the door, and asked, “Who is it?” I leaned against the door to listen, but the keypad lock was suddenly thrown open. Before me stood an older man’s face and the manicured face of a middle-aged woman. “Young Master Sterling, Mrs. Sterling is here to see you.” The so-called “Mrs. Sterling” was Eleanor. She didn’t have a son; she only gave birth to a daughter for Mr. Sterling, named Mia. After having Mia, her health was poor. Despite years of treatments, she couldn’t conceive a son. So, she shifted her attention to Arthur. After Arthur’s biological mother left, Eleanor constantly tried to insert herself into Arthur’s life. Arthur’s birth mother loved Mr. Sterling until the day she died, but Arthur always hated his father. He refused to return to the Sterling family or accept a single cent of his father’s money. Mr. Sterling felt guilty toward Arthur’s mother. And Arthur was his only son. Therefore, everyone knew that if Arthur returned home, he would undoubtedly inherit the Sterling empire. Publicly, Eleanor and Mia showered the so-called “illegitimate son” with care and concern. But in reality, if it weren’t for the endless humiliation and abuse they inflicted on him in the past, Arthur would never have developed autism. Just then, a loud crash came from the kitchen. I hurried over and saw a bowl shattered on the floor by Arthur’s feet. He was trembling all over, his voice sharp: “Get out!” 5 Of course, Eleanor wouldn’t give up that easily. She stepped forward, trying to placate him: “Arthur, it’s okay if you don’t want to call me Mom. I’m here to invite you to your sister’s eighteenth birthday party next week. Your father misses you very much and hopes you can come.” Arthur pressed his lips together, his entire body shaking as he fought to control himself. It took so much effort to get him to talk to me these past few days. If Eleanor triggered him now, would I have to go back to my one-woman show?! I whooshed right in front of Arthur, using my small frame to form a human shield. “Get out.” I repeated Arthur’s words. Eleanor finally looked at me slowly. She looked me up and down, her expression filled with disdain: “You’re Arthur’s wife? I heard you’re an orphan with no parents. Aren’t you just with him for the Sterling blood in his veins? If that’s the case, you should be persuading him, not adding fuel to the fire.” I was furious. Having held it in for so long, I finally exploded: “If you don’t know how to speak properly, you can keep your mouth shut. There’s no need to spew garbage! Who do you think you’re morally kidnapping here? He shouldn’t be calling you Mom in the first place—what kind of mom are you anyway? And what sister? Just because you share the same blood makes you family?! Well, we’re all descendants of the first humans, why don’t you call me Grandpa then?! But even if you acknowledged me, I wouldn’t accept a grandchild like you! Why didn’t you say all this when Mr. Sterling was here? Why only say it in front of Arthur? What, trying to act like a manipulative little ‘green tea bitch’ like the kids do? Take a look at your age first!” I took a deep breath, grabbed Arthur’s hand, and continued glaring at Eleanor: “Also, I don’t know where you got the key to our house, but right now, I need you to get out. “Otherwise, don’t blame me if I spray spit all over your face! Though honestly, you should thank me for washing your face so you can take a good look at yourself.” Eleanor’s face cycled through shades of green and purple. She choked for a long time but couldn’t squeeze out a single word. “Fine! You certainly found a wife with a sharp tongue!” I waved my hand to shoo Eleanor and her driver away. But Arthur stood frozen in the entryway, not moving for a long time. I confidently flipped my hair: “That was the most satisfying rant I’ve ever had! By the way, are the dishes done? Also, which boba place do you think is better?” Arthur looked up at me, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. A moment later, he returned to normal: “Not yet. The second one.” “Oh, then I’ll get the first one.” I went back to curl up on the sofa. [Host, what are you taking matters into your own hands for?! That banquet is the first time the male and female leads meet! It’s the first crucial plot point that establishes their emotional foundation! How can you just say you’re not going?!] I thought it was very simple. “But Arthur doesn’t want to go! Besides, shouldn’t I be asking you guys? To create a ‘tragic but beautiful’ male lead for a female-oriented romance novel, you’re making him live this miserably before his character growth?!” The system went silent again. I couldn’t be bothered with it. It’s just a plot point, right? I refuse to believe he won’t meet the female lead just because he skips one banquet. Not long after, Arthur finished washing the dishes. Not only did he clean up the shattered ceramic on the floor, but he also wiped down the stove, the kitchen tiles, and the counters. He even tied up the kitchen trash bag and set it by the door. I finally finished ordering my boba and was scrolling on my phone on the sofa. It wasn’t until a tall silhouette blocked my light that I slowly looked up. Arthur’s eyes were red. Even his lips were trembling. He looked very kissable. Wait, what am I thinking?! Arthur took a few steps forward, exuding an indescribable stubbornness and defiance: “Why… speak up… for me?” “Because you don’t like her, so I don’t like her either.” Arthur frowned. In his understanding of the world, the simplest reasons were often the most impossible ones. “We’re married! Isn’t this how a married couple is supposed to be? Sharing joy and anger, sharing the consequences.” Hearing the word “married,” Arthur froze. Over the past few days, he had heard this word from my mouth more than once. The concept was slowly starting to take shape in his mind. He pressed his lips together. He seemed very anxious, yet struggled to form a complete sentence: “Then why… agree… to be… married to me?” I stared at his face. Arthur’s looks leaned toward the cold and aloof side. When he wasn’t speaking, he looked exactly like an untouchable “flower on a high peak,” giving people the urge and desire to pull him down from his pedestal. But when he was anxious to speak, his usually expressionless face gained a hint of color, the corners of his eyes drooping slightly, evoking a protective instinct. In short, no matter the situation, he was so good-looking you couldn’t tear your eyes away. “It’s simple. Because you’re good-looking.” As soon as the words fell, the tips of Arthur’s ears burned red. It took him forever to squeeze out one word: “Oh.” I laughed out loud. “What does ‘oh’ mean?” He replied with utmost seriousness, word by word: “I… don’t know how to respond. But… you said… I have to respond.” I nodded and smiled at him: “You learn fast!” He clearly hadn’t gotten used to my compliments yet. Hearing this, he turned around incredibly fast. And after dropping a quick, “You… look good too,” he bolted. 6 These past few days, Arthur had been talking more and more. This made me very happy. At least I wasn’t talking to the air anymore. However. Lately, he was always on the phone with strangers. I was a bit scared, worried he was getting scammed. Even though he and I only had enough savings to barely fill the gap in a rich person’s teeth, that didn’t mean someone wasn’t coveting our good credit scores. After thinking about it for a long time, I finally brought up this serious issue: “Could you give me your phone for a second? I want to download an—” Before I could finish, the phone was already in my palm. “—Anti-fraud app.” After handing me the phone, Arthur went into the kitchen to cook. When I used to order takeout, I never realized how much time making three meals a day actually took. Arthur spent most of his time in the kitchen, and the rest of the time in his study on the phone. Even though Arthur was the male lead, the possibility of him getting scammed couldn’t be ruled out! After downloading the anti-fraud app, I still felt a bit uneasy and asked delicately: “Can I use your browser and look at your contacts?” Arthur appeared in front of me instantly. “Contacts, yes. Browser… can you not look at that for now?” I realized what he meant a second later. Blushing, I whispered, “Sorry.” A faint smell of burning drifted from the kitchen. Arthur sprinted back immediately. Right then, the doorbell rang. A voice called out from outside: “Delivery!” I was confused. I didn’t think I ordered takeout today. I opened the door to find a cup from my favorite boba shop. Ordered by Arthur. Crème brûlée milk tea, 30% sugar, no ice—my exact order. The sound of the range hood in the kitchen stopped. Arthur took off his apron and walked out holding a plate of pepper steak. I shook the boba I had already opened: “You ordered this?” Arthur set the food on the table and glanced at me: “Mhm.” His tone was completely natural: “You always order a cup to drink in the afternoon after lunch, so I bought it early. Drink it early, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep tonight.” I was a bit confused: “Can’t sleep? How did you know I couldn’t sle—” “You didn’t sleep either?” “Mhm.” “You weren’t intentionally listening at my door, were you?!” “This room… doesn’t have good soundproofing.” My defenses crumbled. Totally shattered! So not only could Arthur hear my silvery laughter every night, but he also knew exactly what kind of “Not Safe For Work” videos I was watching to help me fall asleep! No. Fine, he knew. But why did he have to SAY it?! Ahhhhhhh! 7 A few mornings later, while Arthur was preparing breakfast for me, the Sterling family had a set of men’s formal wear and a women’s evening gown delivered. It was for Mia’s eighteenth birthday party tonight. A few nights ago, I heard Mr. Sterling call Arthur, using his late mother’s belongings to threaten him into attending this banquet. Whenever Arthur faced me these past few days, he always looked a bit unnatural, probably trying to figure out how to tell me. I said softly: “This gown is actually really pretty. I’ve never worn such an expensive dress.” A flash of light crossed Arthur’s eyes: “You’re willing to go?” “Yeah, I’ll go with you.” It seems the plot is still correcting itself. Arthur would meet the female lead, Serena, who would stand up for him here. They would fall in love, understand each other, and overcome all obstacles together. I should be happy that my mission was nearing its end. But my heart actually felt a little uncomfortable.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391844”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

A-List movie star Ethan Hayes tweeted late at night: [How does my giant nephew just disappear while we’re on a walk?!] I was just taking a screenshot to text my manager and gossip about it when someone knocked on my door. I opened it to find the stray cat I always feed, sitting right next to the exact kid from the movie star’s photo. “Human, do you like tiny humans?” 1 Between filming projects, I often feed the stray cats in my apartment complex. There’s one beautiful tabby with a huge pregnant belly who always meows when she sees me. Before eating, she always rubs against my legs and gives two little meows to say thank you. Very polite. After feeding her for a while, she memorized which door was mine and started leaving little trinkets on my welcome mat. At first, it was dead mice and sparrows. I got jump-scared a few times. Later, she upgraded to pretty leaves and little flowers. I couldn’t resist taking a picture and posting it on Twitter. [Who gets daily flower deliveries from a feline knight? Me, that’s who!] My fans flooded the comments, praising me for being sweet and the cat for being an angel. Unexpectedly, the notoriously aloof A-lister Ethan Hayes actually left a comment. [Human, as long as you like it.] The internet immediately exploded, and people started shipping us. [Holy crap! The Ice King Ethan Hayes is actually trolling online? If this isn’t true love, what is?!] [Ahhh, my rare-pair ship is finally sailing! I’ve been shipping them ever since they walked past each other at that awards show!] [Chloe Bennett is Hollywood’s most wanted girlfriend! Mr. Hayes, you have excellent taste!] My manager, Sarah, called me immediately, demanding to know what exactly my relationship with Ethan was. I racked my brain, but the only interaction I could think of was squeezing past his seat at the Oscars and whispering, “Excuse me.” “Does Ethan Hayes have a secret crush on you?” “How is that possible?! I’ve only been in the industry for three years. Our paths have literally never crossed!” I rubbed my temples, opening my messages to text Ethan’s manager, trying to figure out the most polite way to handle this. After all, if the gossip blogs got ahold of this comment and spun a narrative, we’d never be able to wash our hands of the rumors. I hadn’t even typed two words when my phone started vibrating. I answered it. A deep, slightly embarrassed male voice came through the speaker. “Chloe, I am so sorry. My nephew accidentally sent that comment from my phone.” 2 After discussing it with Ethan, we posted a joint statement. It was official and polite, explaining the misunderstanding and expressing a mutual desire to work together in the future. Even though it was a huge mix-up, seeing Ethan follow me back and add my number made me so giddy I couldn’t help but roll around on my bed. There was a rustling sound outside my door. I grabbed the bag of kibble and opened it. The beautiful, heavily pregnant tabby stared at me with huge eyes and gave a soft meow. “Luna, you don’t have to climb all these stairs just to bring me stuff! You’re about to pop, you need to rest.” I muttered to myself while pouring the food into her bowl. Luna habitually came over to rub against my leg. Hearing my words, she meowed in slight dissatisfaction. She used her paw to push today’s gift toward me—a perfectly dried butterfly. I carefully picked up the butterfly, rubbed Luna’s head, and thanked her. Only then did she give two satisfied purrs and start eating. “Luna, why don’t you just move in with me? Running around outside with that big belly is dangerous.” I gently patted her swollen stomach, genuinely worried. Luna ignored me. After finishing her food, she washed her face with her paws, shook out her fur, and turned to leave. I forcefully scooped her up and brought her inside, but she just circled the front door, crying to be let out. “Human, I have a family. I will come visit you next time.” A soft, gentle voice suddenly echoed right by my ear. I looked down. Luna was brushing her tail against the door, meowing. I must be hallucinating from staying up too late reading scripts. I shook my head, laughed at myself, and opened the door to say goodbye. 3 A new TV series started production. I asked my assistant to feed Luna every day while I hurried off to the studio lot. It was just a small guest role, so I didn’t have many scenes. After wrapping up for the day, I would wander around the backlots, feeding the studio strays. The weird thing was, I kept hearing strange voices in my ears. “Garfield, you’re already so fat, stop eating!” “Oreo, you’re acting psychotic again, go away, go away!” “Watch out for the humans! Someone knocked me out last month, and when I woke up, I didn’t have the equipment to chase the ladies anymore, boohoo!” On my last day on set, I went to feed the cats one final time. I was staring blankly at the cats happily munching away when someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around. It was Ethan Hayes. He seemed to be filming a historical fantasy epic. His long hair was loose, his silk shirt was half-open, and a thin layer of sweat glistened over his defined chest. He didn’t look like the internet’s “Aloof Ice King.” He looked more like… a siren. Maybe my stare was a bit too intense. Ethan uncomfortably pulled his collar together and crouched down to pet the cats with me. I snapped out of it, my face burning, and quickly bowed my head to say hello. Ethan offered a gentle greeting, the tips of his ears looking a bit red. He smoothly pulled a pair of disposable gloves from his pocket before gently stroking a kitten. “Are you… allergic to cat hair?” “No, I just have a very jealous little monster at home with serious double standards.” He seemed to think of someone. The corners of his lips curled up, his eyes crinkled, and the starlight in his gaze melted away his usual sharp, intimidating aura. Ah! The internet’s ultimate bachelor was taken! I was so dizzy from this massive piece of insider gossip that I honestly didn’t even remember how I drove home. I was just picking up my phone to text Sarah all the details when a sound came from my door. I opened it. It was Luna. She held her head high, carrying a beautiful little calico kitten in her mouth. “Human, this is my prettiest child.” 4 I stared blankly at Luna. She closed her eyes, tilting her head up, waiting for me to pet her. Wait, what is happening? Am I actually hearing cats talk? “Luna? Is that you talking?” “Human, do not make a fuss.” Luna flicked her tail and carried the kitten right into my apartment. The little calico seemed to have just been weaned, but she wasn’t afraid of people at all. She immediately waddled over to my leg, purring like a motor. “Human, I have already educated her. From now on, you are her mother.” Luna’s tail wrapped around my ankles. I finally snapped out of my shock and picked up the calico. She just gave a sweet, tiny “mew.” “Human, the child is too young to speak yet.” As if reading my mind, Luna answered me while licking her paw. I’m getting a cat! And I can talk to cats! I scooped up Luna and gave her a huge hug. She resisted slightly, pushing my face away with her toe beans. “Human, do not be startling.” Once I calmed down, reality hit me. I had two back-to-back shoots lined up for the second half of the year. I would barely be home. Looking at the adorable kitten, I had to tearfully decline. “Oh, Luna, I really want to adopt her, but I have too much work this year. No one will be here to take care of her.” Luna looked up at me blankly, then silently picked the kitten back up in her mouth and walked out. I chased after her, trying to explain, but she ran too fast and disappeared down the hall. Crap. I made the cat mad. Desperate, I posted on an online forum. [I rejected a mother cat’s kitten and now she’s mad. How do I fix this?!] My fans immediately flooded the replies with advice. [Bribe her with wet food! Works every time!] [Cats don’t hold grudges! Don’t worry, Chloe baby!] [Just explain it to her properly next time you see her and give her lots of kisses!] Ethan Hayes also commented, short and to the point: [Good human. The cat won’t stay mad.] The shippers built a massive comment thread under his reply. I suddenly remembered Ethan’s exposed chest from earlier that day, and my face felt hot. Hot men are a hazard to my health. I rushed to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. When I checked my phone again, Ethan was trending at number one. Did he cause a scene because he commented on my post again?! I hurriedly clicked the hashtag, only to find he had posted a photo with a three-year-old boy. [How does my giant nephew just disappear while we’re on a walk?!] The comments were chaotic. Some told him to call 911, some speculated it was his secret son, and others thought his account was hacked. I was just taking a screenshot to send to my manager when someone knocked on my door. I opened it. Luna was sitting there, elegantly grooming her paw. Sitting right next to her was the exact kid from the movie star’s photo. “Human, if you don’t like kittens, that is fine. Do you like tiny humans?” 5 The little boy looked about three years old. He was pale and chubby-cheeked, but the moment he saw me, his lip quivered like he was about to cry. Luna swept her tail across his face and gave an impatient meow. “Do not cry. This is your new mother.” Her fluffy tail distracted him. He broke into a smile through his tears, but very seriously corrected her. “I already have a mommy.” Then, he let out a massive sneeze. I frantically scooped him up, brought him inside, and dug out a string cheese to shove into his hand. The culprit, Luna, was leisurely rolling on my rug, looking incredibly pleased with herself. I pulled up Ethan’s contact info, my thumb hovering over the call button in distress. How do I even explain this? Hey, my stray cat gave me your nephew as a gift? I looked at the little boy. He blinked his big, round eyes, and the curve of his smile looked exactly like Ethan’s. Is this actually his secret kid? The boy suddenly spoke. “Auntie, I’m so hungry.” “I’ll go find you something to eat!” I agreed instinctively, only realizing a second later what he called me. Wait, Auntie? Luna hopped over to my feet, purring while cleaning her fur. “Human, I have already educated him. From now on, you are his Auntie.” Looking at Luna’s proud face, I couldn’t bear to burst her bubble, so I just nodded along. Hiding in the kitchen, I braced myself and dialed Ethan’s number. “Mr. Hayes, hello. Um, your nephew seems to be at my apartment.” There were a few seconds of dead silence on the other end. I was cringing so hard my toes curled. How do I explain this? No matter how I phrase it, I sound like a kidnapper! His manager, Mark, finally spoke, sounding completely baffled. “Are you telling me that Ethan’s nephew bypassed the security gate, entered the building code, dodged the lobby concierge, and went straight to your door?” He was about to say more, but Ethan cut him off. The man’s clear voice sounded raspy and exhausted. “Chl… Thank you. Could I trouble you to bring him over to my place?” 6 Ethan had already caught a chill from filming in the rain, and running around in the wind looking for his nephew had pushed him into a high fever. His manager, Mark, drove over to pick us up. Seeing the little boy happily eating at my dining table, Mark’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Leo is actually behaving for you?!” So his name was Leo. I had just boiled him a quick bowl of mac and cheese, but he was eating it like it was a Michelin-star meal. The moment Leo saw Mark, however, he burst into tears. Mark expertly pulled a teddy bear out of his bag, hiding his face behind it, and tried coaxing him in a high-pitched voice. But no matter what he did, Leo refused to leave. Mark could only look at me helplessly. “Ms. Bennett, could you please help us bring Leo home?” Me? “I’ve only known him for a few hours. I doubt he even likes me that much.” But Mark’s pleading look was too much. I tentatively walked toward Leo. To my surprise, the kid immediately reached his arms out to me. “Auntie Chloe, hold me!” Mark was stunned. He looked at me, then at Leo giggling in my arms, and a look of sudden realization dawned on his face. I frantically waved my free hand to explain, but Mark practically shoved me into the back of the SUV. “It’s totally fine! We never pry into our artists’ private lives.” I held Leo like he was a ticking time bomb. He fell asleep the second the car started moving. That unique, sweet smell of a sleeping toddler filled my senses. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and slept soundly, not even waking up when we parked. I had no choice but to carry him all the way up to Ethan’s penthouse. As we stepped out of the private elevator, a few paparazzi disguised as delivery men brushed past us. Camera flashes went off behind my back. Mark frantically tried to block them while I kept my head down and rushed Leo inside the apartment. 7 Ethan was wearing soft loungewear and a medical mask. His eyes were completely bloodshot; he clearly hadn’t slept all night. He nodded at me. “I am so sorry. This must have been a huge hassle for you.” I smiled and shook my head, gently placing Leo on the massive bed. I tried to stand up, but my hair was locked in the kid’s tiny, iron grip. Ethan walked over, wrapped his hand gently around my hair, and began carefully prying Leo’s fingers open. His movements were incredibly light. His gaze was focused and warm, and the tiny mole near the corner of his eye was entirely too captivating. I couldn’t look away. “Got it.” I don’t know how long I was staring, but when I snapped out of it, Ethan’s beautiful eyes were locked onto mine. I couldn’t read the expression under his mask. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t sleep well, spaced out for a second.” I jumped back, my face burning like a furnace. I pulled out my phone and started babbling nonsense. “Um, my cat is calling me home.” It is a universal truth that when people are embarrassed, they pretend to be very busy with their phones. But to my absolute shock, my phone actually started ringing. I hurried out of the bedroom. Sarah’s piercing scream nearly shattered my phone speaker. “Chloe Bennett! Since when do you have a secret child?!” Wait, what??? 8 I opened Twitter. #ChloeBennettSecretChild #ChloeAndEthan #ChlethanIsRealWeAreSaved My vision went dark. I instinctively looked up at Ethan. He whispered something to Mark, then looked at me apologetically. “You might have to stay here for a few days.” Ethan took my phone. I have no idea what kind of smooth-talking he did with Sarah, but when he handed it back, my manager actually sounded thrilled. “Chloe, just stay at the A-Lister’s place and learn from him for a few days! You don’t have any shoots this week anyway.” Then she hung up. I stared at Ethan, completely lost. He patiently explained. The paparazzi had snapped photos of me carrying a child into his building. Right now, they were swarming the lobby and the street outside. If I was photographed leaving, it would be a PR nightmare. As for the trending hashtags and the news, his PR team was already handling it. “I am truly sorry. I promise my team will make sure this doesn’t negatively impact your career at all.” Ethan started coughing, his voice sounding even more raw and raspy. I suddenly remembered he was a sick patient, yet he had been standing here negotiating with my manager for my sake. I nodded to let him know it was fine, but then a thought popped into my head. “Um, won’t your girlfriend mind?” “Girlfriend?” Ethan frowned. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” Then who was the “jealous little monster” he mentioned? …Was it Leo? An unexplainable wave of joy washed over me. I couldn’t stop my lips from curving up, and I was still smiling when I woke up the next morning in his guest room. I was still in a daze when a chubby little hand started smacking my cheeks. “Ahhh! Ahhh!” I opened my eyes. It was Leo, looking incredibly panicked. “Auntie Chloe, Uncle Ethan is too hot!” 9 I bolted out of bed and ran to Ethan’s room. He was burning up, his skin radiating heat. I called Mark, but he was stuck at the agency headquarters handling the PR crisis and couldn’t get back immediately. I ransacked the bathroom and kitchen, but I couldn’t find any fever reducers. Seeing my panic, Leo burst into tears. Between trying to comfort a screaming toddler and frantically searching for medicine, I was losing my mind. “Human children are so much trouble.” A familiar voice echoed. Luna leaped down from the windowsill and strutted over to Leo. Miraculously, he stopped crying instantly. “Human, the medicine is in the second drawer of his nightstand.” I didn’t have time to process how Luna knew where the meds were. I yanked the drawer open, found the pills, and rushed back to the bed. Ethan groggily opened his mouth. As I placed the pill on his tongue, the tip of it grazed the palm of my hand. The sudden tickle sent a jolt straight to my heart. I helped him sit up to drink some water. He forced his eyes open halfway. “Thank you, Chloe.” His pronunciation of my name was so soft, I almost thought I imagined it. Seeing him start to sweat, I let out a sigh of relief. I was just about to turn and leave when he let out a low groan. “What’s wrong?” I sat on the edge of the bed, letting him lean his weight against my shoulder. Those eyes—the ones legendary directors constantly praised as “cold, regal, and untouchable”—were currently drooping like a pathetic, kicked puppy. It was impossible not to feel soft toward him. “Headache,” he mumbled, sounding exactly like he was pouting. I reached up to check the temperature of his forehead. He grabbed my hand and pressed it firmly against his skin. “That feels better.” Having never been this intimately close to him, my face flushed. But I had no choice but to indulge him, using my cool hands to soothe his forehead, his cheeks, and his neck. His burning Adam’s apple bobbed up and down against my palm, making my thoughts entirely chaotic. Thank God Luna had dragged Leo out of the room to play. Otherwise, seeing my face this red, they probably would have thought I caught the fever too. Ethan seemed to still be uncomfortable. He kept holding my hand, guiding it lower, over his collarbone, and resting it flat against his chest. The firm, burning heat of his skin beneath my fingertips felt like it was setting me on fire. He let out a comfortable sigh, sending a shock of electricity from my hand straight down my spine. He held my hand against his chest with one hand, while his other hand slowly slid around the back of my neck. Maybe it was pure instinct, but his hand on my neck gently pulled me downward, bringing my face closer to his. Why did his lips look even more flushed and… inviting when he had a fever? Without realizing it, I held my breath and leaned in.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391843”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel