When we got our marriage license, Ethan Blackwood told me he didn't know how to love. So, for five years of marriage, he gave me everything—sex, desire, loyalty—except his heart. It was an arranged marriage between families. I knew I couldn't be greedy, and I thought what he gave was enough. Until the night of our fifth anniversary. I broke his "bedroom rules" and secretly took off the blindfold for the first time. Only to inadvertently see a name tattooed on the small of his back. In that moment, I realized. Ethan Blackwood wasn't incapable of love. He had just hidden it all away, saving it for my adopted sister. We had a huge fight, wishing each other dead. Unexpectedly, words became prophecy. We both plummeted off a cliff in a car accident. Before dying, Ethan, his face covered in blood, looked at me and begged: "Serena, if there is a next life, let's not be husband and wife, okay?" I stared at him and laughed miserably, like a madwoman. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Ethan kneeling straight-backed on the floor: "Uncle, Auntie, I cannot marry Serena. The one I love is Layla." I froze. But relief quickly followed. Coincidentally, I didn't want to choose him this time either. 1 "Are you really sure about marrying Julian?" Mrs. Blackwood looked at me with some reluctance, but I calmly exchanged the betrothal documents with her. Confirming the name on the paper was Julian Sterling, I smiled faintly. "I'm sure, Auntie." Mrs. Blackwood tried to persuade me again, her tone earnest. "The fortune tellers say Julian won't live past thirty. You..." "Serena, even if Ethan doesn't agree to the marriage, you don't have to choose a husband only from the Blackwood family." In my past life, Julian Sterling did die at thirty. Mrs. Blackwood fainted from crying, and Mr. Blackwood aged overnight. Everyone mourned his passing. He was formidable, becoming the head of the Sterling family at a young age. Beneath his sickly body lay the most steadfast heart. Before he died, I intended to see him one last time. Instead, I heard him say, "I like Serena Jiang." "She doesn't need to know what I've done. I only hope she is well." He said not all love needs to be spoken, nor does all love beg for a return. So year after year, no one but his assistant knew. His love was hidden so deep that I never noticed a trace of it until the final moment he left this world filled with regret. So, even if just for that "I like you." I wanted to help him. At least to let him leave without regrets. After a long while, I raised a smile and gently patted the back of Mrs. Blackwood's hand. "Auntie, Julian will live a long life, to a hundred years old." 2 After Mrs. Blackwood left, my mother also came to ask me, "Are you really not just doing this out of spite toward Ethan?" She knew how much I liked Ethan Blackwood. Childhood sweethearts, when love first blossomed, no other boy could enter my eyes. I thought he felt the same, never imagining it was unrequited love from beginning to end. In my past life, when Ethan and I got our marriage license, he told me: "I grew up amidst schemes and calculations. I don't understand how to love, nor can I love. But whatever I can give, I will give to you." For five years of marriage, we were the model couple in our circle—talented man, beautiful woman, seemingly deeply in love. To maintain this marriage, I was willing to teach Ethan how to love me. I could even indulge his occasional willfulness. Even his bedroom quirks, I could endure. In my past life, before intimacy, Ethan would always hand me a blindfold or use a tie to cover my eyes. He said: "Serena's eyes are too beautiful. I'm afraid I'll lose control and hurt you." Every time, I blushed to the tips of my ears. Later, once or twice, he forgot to blindfold me. I joyfully wanted to see him overcome with passion, but he just coaxed me into changing positions, then ingratiatingly kissed my back inch by inch. We almost never faced each other. I took it all as Ethan's habit. Until our fifth anniversary. I secretly took off the blindfold for the first time and accidentally discovered the name tattooed on his lower back. Humiliation and betrayal hit me simultaneously. In that moment, I felt like I had fallen into an ice cave. I went crazy, smashing everything in the bedroom, grabbing an ashtray and hurling it at Ethan. We hurled vicious words at each other, wishing the other dead. Cursing him to eternal hell. But doing it all over again, I found I didn't want to do anything except stay far away from him. Thinking about it carefully. Ethan treated me well, he just didn't love me. 3 The engagement party was set for next month. Mrs. Blackwood said the Blackwood family would handle everything; I just needed to wait peacefully. She gave me the chance to back out anytime. I replied with a helpless smile, "That wouldn't be fair to Julian." He was just sick. I messaged my assistant at the research institute to prepare the lab equipment. In my past life, after Julian's heart transplant, I locked myself in the lab researching antibacterial drugs for a while. Later, the drug was ready for production, but he had already died from infection. I hope I can make it in time this life. Suddenly, Ethan sent me a message: "Come to The Ninth Night Club. I need to discuss something with you." I refused directly. The first thing Ethan did after his rebirth was come to my house to cancel the engagement and confess his love to my adopted sister, Layla. To make Layla happy, he set off fireworks all night. They had been trending at number one, with everyone saying they were a perfect match. Paparazzi caught videos of them walking by the sea. Layla seemed tired and coquettishly asked Ethan to carry her. I thought he would refuse. But he didn't. He smiled dotingly, knelt on one knee, gently rubbed her ankle first, then carried her on his back. His movements were smooth, gentle, and affectionate. A netizen commented: "Young Master Blackwood really loves Layla to death." During this time, he stayed by Layla's side, dutifully pleasing her, spoiling her like a little princess. He was trying his best to make up for the regrets of his past life; he wanted a different life. I didn't object, as long as it didn't involve me. But in the end, I went to The Ninth Night Club, though not for Ethan. I wanted to see Julian. His assistant called me back: "Miss Jiang, Mr. Sterling is discussing business at The Ninth Night. If it's urgent, you can come directly." I subconsciously frowned and couldn't help teasing, "Drinking even when sick? Is he afraid he won't die fast enough?" The assistant on the other end went silent. After a long silence, only a faint cough was heard. Finally, the assistant hurriedly left a room number and hung up. 4 Unexpectedly, Ethan seemed certain I would come and had sent people to watch for me early on. As soon as I showed my face, two bodyguards at the door forcibly took me to Ethan's private room. After pushing the door open, they pressed down hard on my shoulders, forcing me to kneel. The cold from the floor seeped into my knees. The feeling of humiliation swept over me again. I clenched my fists and stared at the man in front of me: "Ethan Blackwood, are you sick?" The lighting in the room was dim. Ethan took a cigarette from a pack, lit it, took a drag, and exhaled white smoke. "I didn't want this either." "It's you who won't cooperate. If you're unwilling to cancel the engagement, don't blame me for playing dirty." My mind went blank. The engagement with Ethan had clearly been canceled long ago. Did he not know? I struggled instinctively, opening my mouth to explain. Ethan had already walked up to me. Holding a glass of wine, he pinched my chin: "Serena, don't blame me." "I just want to live the life I want for once. As long as you're ruined, they won't force me to marry you." I stared at Ethan, endless sorrow bursting from my eyes. My heart ached convulsively. Childhood friendship, five years of marriage, truly as cheap as dirt. "So you're going to drug me and send me to whose bed?" For a moment, Ethan seemed dazed. His thin lips pressed tight, his hand pausing for two seconds. But in the end, he forced the wine into my mouth. "The Blackwood family has been busy with our engagement party for the last two days. I really can't wait any longer." "I found a young master of equal status for you. He will take responsibility; he will marry you." "Ethan, you're crazy, you're really crazy..." I desperately tried to break free, but the two bodyguards behind me were too strong to resist. The wine poured fiercely down my throat. The intense stimulation made me cough uncontrollably. My face turned red, and spilled wine ran down my chin, wetting the shirt on my chest. Clinging tightly to my skin. "Serena, be good." His tone was very light as he reached out to wipe the wine stain from the corner of my mouth. The bodyguards had let go of me by now. I panted heavily, my face still showing signs of distress. My hands propped weakly on the floor, physiological tears welling up in my eyes. My red lips curled into a self-mocking arc: "Ethan Blackwood, I didn't want to marry you, and I won't marry you." Hearing this, he smiled contemptuously: "Really? Serena, I know you too well." "I know how much you like me, so I had no choice but to do this." He was so confident, so certain. Suddenly, Layla appeared at the door of the private room. She clutched the corner of her dress tightly, her gaze fixed straight on me. Voice trembling: "Sister, Ethan, you..." Ethan's body stiffened instantly, his smile freezing on his lips. "Layla, why are you here...?" "Who brought you here? It's so dirty here; you shouldn't have come." He walked helplessly to Layla, his voice gentle, movements soft and obedient. At this moment, he was like a devout believer, his eyes filled with sincere love. It was a look I had never seen before. Sure enough, love and lack thereof are truly distinct. I stared at Ethan for a long time, an indescribable sourness surging up. People are truly strange. In my past life, after Ethan and I got married, Layla went abroad and never came back. He regretted the past now, but back then, if he had wanted to marry her, who could have stopped him? If he really loved her that much, a plane ticket to the US... Cost a few hundred dollars. But did Ethan ever go to see Layla? No. Sometimes I didn't know whether to be glad he was loyal enough to me in my past life, or glad he was cowardly. Ethan coaxed Layla to go home. She pressed her lips together and didn't say much, looking at me with unclear emotions. Finally leaving me alone in the same spot.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "388535", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel