I was Charles Schwartz’s most devoted admirer. When he skipped class to sleep, I covered for him. When he pursued the new transfer student, I delivered his love letters. After high school graduation, the transfer student went off to an Ivy League university. I went abroad with Charles. In that foreign land, I finally claimed my prize, feasting to my heart’s content. Until the transfer student came to the same city for postgraduate studies. When Charles once again stayed out all night with her, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was time for me to go home. The Schwartz family had paid for my entire overseas education. It would be rude to just break up with him. 1 The Schwartzs were the most powerful and influential family in our exclusive compound. Charles was the undisputed king of all the neighborhood kids. I’d followed him since we were little. He was the most fun, and by far the most handsome. If the Schwartz family hadn’t disapproved, he would have been snatched up by talent scouts and launched into stardom. Just looking at Charles’s face, I could eat an extra two bowls of rice. And the closer I was to Charles, the higher my standing at home. As we grew older, everyone became more aware of gender. The girls stopped hanging out with the boys all day. But I was different. I continued to stick to Charles like glue, utterly shameless. Charles grew into the handsome young man everyone expected. His eyes were sharp, his jawline sculpted, exuding a rakish, youthful charm. Meanwhile, I slowly became known as Charles’s “sycophant” – his eager admirer. They mocked me, scorned me, looked down on me. But they didn’t know how much I gained. Charles didn’t love me, but the Schwartzs trusted me. My family received crucial resources, and I, too, was placed in classes filled with the children of the elite, all thanks to my association with Charles. 2 High school for the children of the powerful wasn’t tedious. Their paths were meticulously planned from birth, every road leading to success. Even if one path closed, they could simply conjure another. I was different. My family could only guarantee me a life of comfort and ensure my social standing wasn't a detriment in circles that valued lineage. Therefore, I clung to Charles even tighter. When he skipped class, I provided cover. When he slept, I copied his homework. Even when he became infatuated with Sophia Miller, the new transfer student, I was the one who gathered intelligence. Sophia was a tenacious little wild rose, admitted on a full scholarship and grants. Countless girls had pursued Charles – innocent ones, seductive ones, children of celebrities, children of politicians – but all had returned empty-handed. I’d even begun to suspect Charles didn’t like women. But the moment Sophia walked to the front of the classroom and introduced herself, it was like a switch flipped in him. He had no idea how to pursue someone, yet he clumsily chased Sophia for three months. This gave me the perfect opportunity. I outmaneuvered the other male admirers, leveraging my position to serve Charles to the fullest. Oh, and by the way, those male admirers never called themselves sycophants. They considered themselves Charles’s childhood friends. It seemed that because I was a girl, my deference to Charles was "sycophancy," but their flattery was "friendship." How amusing. I bought Sophia breakfast. I played tennis with her during gym class. Sophia had never encountered anyone so kind in this school. Her eyes were filled with gratitude and trust when she looked at me. It was then that I handed her the love letter I had prepared long ago. Sophia froze, her expression disbelieving. I quickly added, “It’s from Charles Schwartz.” As expected, Sophia tossed the letter into the trash. Charles went to confront her, only to be called a “spoiled trust fund baby.” After that, Sophia stopped speaking to me altogether. I didn’t care. I was too busy consoling a heartbroken Charles. He’d lived a life of uninterrupted ease; this was his first real setback. He pretended indifference, drinking as if it didn't matter, but two glasses later, he was completely drunk. In his stupor, he cradled my face in his hands, asking me repeatedly, “Why? Why doesn’t she like me?” I whispered gently, “She just has no taste.” “Charles, I like you.” I saw a flicker of clarity in his hazy eyes. 3 After Sophia rejected him, Charles suddenly became like some of his childhood friends, cycling through girlfriends at a rapid pace. A new one every week. Sometimes, one might even last a month. But his gaze never truly left Sophia. Soon, the high school finals arrived. After the exams, Sophia was accepted into a prestigious Ivy League university. Charles chose to study abroad. When I visited the Schwartz estate to deliver some homemade desserts from my mother, Mrs. Schwartz asked me about my plans. I feigned nonchalance. “It depends on my scores, I suppose. You know, Aunt Eleanor, I’m not really cut out for academics.” I was, in fact, quite skilled. But my high school years had been entirely dedicated to looking after Charles. When he had a fever or a cold, I was the first to contact the Schwartz family secretary. When he went abroad to party, I was the one who kept them updated. Mrs. Schwartz looked thoughtful. That summer was an excruciating wait for me. Others waited for their scores, their university acceptance letters, the start of a new semester. I waited for Lady Luck to smile upon me. Finally. On a tranquil summer evening, Mrs. Schwartz called personally, inviting my family to dinner. I still remember how cool the breeze was that night, how crisp the cicadas chirped. She didn't know how long I had been holding my breath before that call. I had won the gamble. My future would be intertwined with Charles’s for a long time. As bright as Charles’s future was, so too would mine be blessed with favors and opportunities. A month later, Charles and I departed for overseas. A top-tier university. Charles’s “friends” looked at me with open envy. “Summer, do you really enjoy being his doormat?” “Aren’t you afraid you’ll never get married like this? Oh, wait, you can just cling to Charles your entire life, like a parasite, and bring your kids along with you.” See, see? The ugliness of a man’s jealousy. 4 After moving abroad, Charles’s appeal only grew. His features had matured. The blend of boyishness and masculine refinement, sharp angles mixed with a subtle sensuality, made hearts flutter. I continued to serve him diligently, enduring his every whim. During his first year abroad, Charles let loose completely. He might be in Seattle in the morning and Los Angeles by evening. His parade of girlfriends still changed weekly. Around the holidays, Mr. Schwartz’s mistress, along with their thirteen-year-old illegitimate son, caused a scene with Mrs. Schwartz. Mrs. Schwartz told Charles not to come home. I stayed with Charles, and we spent the holidays together in New York. While we were waiting for the new year, he suddenly asked me, “Summer, can a person’s heart truly remain unchanged?” I didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” I said. Charles smiled. “But I think… I might not like Sophia anymore. I can’t even remember what she looks like. Yet back then, I thought I’d never loved anyone like that before…” I thought he was simply drawn to someone completely different from himself. What kind of love was that? But if he were to ask me what love was, I wouldn’t have an answer either. No one had ever taught us. The fireworks outside the window illuminated Charles’s impossibly beautiful face. On a whim, I grabbed the lapel of his shirt and pressed my lips against his perfect mouth. The rhythm of adults is fast. By the time Charles reacted, the arrow was already released. A flash of annoyance crossed his face as he looked at me. “Are you sure about this?” The coursework at a top-tier university was challenging. And I still had to be Charles’s caretaker. I needed to release some pent-up energy. Charles, this is your task. This is my well-deserved reward. I ran my hands over his sculpted abs and answered his question. I truly was eating well. Charles’s eyes darkened, as if he meant to devour me whole. He was spoiled, arrogant, extravagant… full of flaws. But his physical form was a rare treasure. And it happened to fall into my hands. I was unleashing years of suppressed pressure. My suffocating childhood, the dysfunctional family dynamics, had left me constantly on edge. I spent it all lavishly on Charles. He responded to my passion, seemingly tireless. “Summer, do you really like me that much?” I nodded wildly. “Summer, don’t regret this.” He stared at me with an intense gaze, as if trying to pierce my soul. For a moment, I had the fleeting illusion that he might actually like me. After that night, Charles and I were together. There was no formal confession, no public announcement. But he stopped seeing other women. Once, an Asian-American girl pursued him relentlessly. He finally snapped, telling her he already had a girlfriend. This caused a ripple effect. Many people began asking who Charles’s girlfriend was. A few days later, I received a call from Mrs. Schwartz. She inquired about my studies and then deposited a seven-figure sum into my account for living expenses. Just before hanging up, she said, “Thank you for taking such good care of Charles.” Before I could react, the line was dead. She knew everything. Her perception of my role was like that of a live-in companion of convenience from ancient times – a woman kept for utility. Charles walked in right then. “Summer, what are you dawdling for?” I looked up, smiling. “Coming.”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "394437", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel