This is the fifth year I've been by the side of that infamous playboy. Someone took a picture of me looking like I might be pregnant. Rumors instantly started flying around our circle. Everyone assumed I was trying to use a baby to force his hand and secure a spot in his billionaire family. Upon hearing the news, his first love—the one who had stormed off in a fit of pique years ago—flew back to the country, out for blood. Everyone expected a massive, dramatic war between us. But when Arthur returned from his business trip, all he heard was that I had aborted the baby and slipped back to my hometown. Sigh. We "good girls" can play around however we want on normal days. But if we actually tried to carry a bastard child with no name and no status? Our parents would kill us. 1 It was the middle of the night. Right after I hung up the phone with my doctor, the doorbell rang. I stood up my suitcase and turned to open the door. The man, wearing a sleek, cold leather jacket, casually tossed his heavy sports car keys into my arms. His expression was displeased. "Why did you change the passcode to the front door?" I pursed my lips and whispered, "I was worried stalkers might be waiting outside my door." He let out a disdainful scoff. "With the security in this building? Without registering, not even a stray cat could get in, let alone a living, breathing person." ...Well, someone got in. I thought silently to myself. Like your first love, who came over and literally kicked my door in. I took his coat and stood on my tiptoes to hang it up. Beneath his usual crisp scent of cedar, there was a lingering trace of a cloying, sweet women's perfume. It was the exact same scent as my uninvited guest from yesterday. I pretended not to notice. He suddenly reached out and rubbed my eyes with his knuckles. "Have you been crying?" I froze, surprised he even noticed my slightly swollen eyes. I threw out a random lie. "I was just watching a movie." Seeing me lower my long eyelashes, his gaze trailed downward, landing on my bare feet. The autumn chill was creeping in, but I hadn't put the rugs down yet. He frowned slightly, scooped me up into his arms, and carried me to the sofa. He probably thought I was getting worked up over the recent rumors. So he spoke: "People in our circle just love to gossip. They think having a baby is a guaranteed ticket into a wealthy family. Those women eagerly waiting for a chance have been trying to shove themselves in my face forever." "This child has another purpose for me. Just be a good girl. Don't be like those idiots dreaming of climbing the social ladder. The position of Mrs. Sterling isn't that simple." These words were both a reminder and a warning. He had plenty of women around him over the years. But playing around was one thing; when it came to matters involving his family's interests, he never hesitated or blurred the lines. If I dared to act like the other women in his circle, trying to use a child to fight for a position... He could take everything away in an instant and send me right back to where I started. I felt a little tired. Leaning against his shoulder, I gave a very soft "Mhm." Suddenly, his gaze paused, noticing my suitcase sitting on the floor. "Going back to your hometown again?" He frowned imperceptibly. "Yeah, my parents said they miss me." Over the years, whenever I felt wronged, I'd run back home. I'd declare I was never coming back, only to secretly buy the earliest flight back because I missed him too much. Assuming it was because Thanksgiving was coming up, he didn't mind too much. "Stay a couple of days if you're going back. Don't interact with people who have twisted intentions. We'll talk about the baby later." He didn't mention the return of his first love. And I smartly didn't ask. 2 For me, it was love at first sight with Arthur Sterling. If you asked me whether I liked him more or the benefits he brought more... That would be an insult to my pure, unadulterated crush. As a "good girl" who had been disciplined by rigid rules and expectations since childhood, I walked every stage of my life exactly as my parents planned. I went to a state teaching college, chose a humanities major, and returned to my hometown to work as a teacher after graduation. My delayed rebellion erupted during my first year of working. Looking at my older colleagues, I could see exactly what my entire future looked like— Teaching, blind dates, marriage, having kids. On a hot, mundane summer afternoon, I stared at my lesson plans and a bouquet of roses given to me by a new male teacher, zoning out for a long time. I knew from a young age that I was born with a pretty, innocent face. Countless men had shown interest in me—so many that it made me feel like an easily acquirable commodity. It was annoying and incredibly depressing. Of course, there were sincere guys among them, but their shy blushes and nervous stuttering always killed any interest I had. I wanted to rip off the labels attached to me. I wanted to become someone who commanded everyone's attention, someone completely out of reach. This unrealistic desire was suppressed, only to pop back up again and again. Until an older friend in the industry asked me if I was interested in participating in their reality idol competition show. That was probably the most rebellious thing I've ever done in my life. I quit my job, cut off my heavy bangs, and moved to Los Angeles. Everyone said the entertainment industry was a brutal path. But I was young, and after making a small splash on the show, I thought I was God's gift to the world, brimming with enthusiasm for the future. Until six months later, when I hit wall after wall. Facing contract termination with my agency and having absolutely no acting gigs lined up, I was also being harassed by a sleazy producer. The balding man promised me with lecherous eyes that as long as I slept with him, he'd make me a star. I looked at his receding hairline and silently looked away. ...Honestly, I didn't have to be famous. At the very least, I couldn't stomach that. I thought my acting career was going to be buried before it even started, but then I met Arthur. In a private VIP room filled with D-list starlets and directors, the cynical playboy sat at the head of the table— A flirtatious voice, a lazy smirk, a cigarette held between his long, elegant fingers, and a watch worth more than a house glinting in the dim light on his wrist. He was a feast for the eyes. Just one look, and I was hooked. It couldn't be helped. We "good girls" have absolutely zero resistance to a bad boy with a bit of a rebellious streak. Not to mention, he actually chose me and pursued me with massive fanfare. He publicly acknowledged me as his "little girlfriend" in front of the media. Imagine it. In the hot, late-night summer breeze, a lazy, incredibly handsome billionaire heir leans against his multi-million dollar red convertible, one hand in his pocket. A massive bouquet of delicate, fragrant red roses sits in the passenger seat. He looks through the crowd, catches your eye, and smiles at you. It could literally kill me. He was someone my dull, boring past life had never encountered. It was also the first time I heard my own heart thumping wildly in my chest. My best friend was incredibly supportive of me. Regarding this unequal relationship, she reasoned seriously: "So what? For a good girl like you, you have to play with the wild ones until you get it out of your system before you can settle down and marry a normal guy." "With a billionaire like Arthur, whatever slips through his fingers is enough to feed you for a lifetime. Honestly, just squeeze a few more payouts out of him before he gets bored." I deeply agreed. So I willingly drowned myself in the warmth he wove around me. Arthur was very generous. He never skimped on gifts. Knowing I wanted to act, he personally brought scripts to me to choose from. Because of him, all the bullying and hazing on set completely vanished. The road to an Oscar suddenly became incredibly smooth; all I had to do was hone my acting skills. If it hadn't been for his first love coming back, I probably would have greedily stayed by his side for another two years, trying my hardest to win that ultimate acting honor. 3 I had long heard rumors about this Chinese-American actress who had spent years grinding in Hollywood before finally making a name for herself. The first time Arthur's best friend met me, he compared me to her: "She's pretty, sure, but her personality is too soft. She doesn't hold a candle to Elena's fiery spirit." That was the first time I heard the name Elena. —The name that Arthur loved until it tore his heart apart, and later hated down to his very bones. Ultimately, the only reason his snobbish, elite friends tolerated a D-list actress like me was because they felt Elena had hurt him too deeply back then. The whole circle agreed he needed someone to keep him company and help him recover. The dazzlingly beautiful actress brought her bodyguards to my house, smashed my door, shattered my vases, and threw my kitten out the window right in front of me. The kitten's agonizing shriek made my entire body tremble. My tears fell uncontrollably, but I couldn't even form a complete, threatening sentence. She clapped her hands slowly, looking me up and down with pitying eyes: "To make Arthur willingly keep you for five years, I thought you were some masterful, cunning character. I didn't expect you to be such a pushover." "But it makes sense. A pet with no temper—anyone would be willing to keep it around for a few extra years. After all, it doesn't take any effort to coax." My whole body was shaking, and I bit my red lips until they bled. Breaking and entering, destruction of property, plus animal cruelty. If I just called the police and leaked this, it could ruin her in minutes. Her bodyguards blocked the door to my house. She seemed to see right through my thoughts. She stepped aside, clearing a path for me, and said arrogantly: "Go ahead. The police station is just a few blocks down the street. You can go right now. Let's see who ends up trending on Twitter." Her absolute fearlessness clearly came from having someone backing her up. And that backing probably came from Arthur. But I didn't think she was in the right: "As far as I know, you and Arthur aren't even officially exes. May I ask what right you have to break in here?" "Right?" She scoffed, as if she had heard a joke. "Years ago, he almost died drag-racing on the highway in a rainstorm trying to chase after me. What right do you think I need?" "Do you know why he keeps you around so publicly? It's just a show for me, to force me to yield." She let out a light sneer, looking disgusted. "Did you really think he likes 'good girls'?" I clenched my fists, forcing a cold smile to match her attitude: "But I'm pregnant with his child. Do you think he's just going to ignore that?" Hearing this, Elena laughed out loud: "You didn't actually think you could trap him with a baby, did you?" Her tone was incredibly light as her gaze dropped to my slightly rounded stomach: "Before I even came back, he called me. He told me that as long as I was willing to compromise, he could get rid of this baby." Seeing the color rapidly drain from my face, the smirk on her lips grew wider. She said nonchalantly: "But what if I don't compromise? Ms. Davis, tell me, if my bodyguards accidentally get a little too rough next time, or if I 'accidentally' bump into you, will Arthur blame me for crossing a line, or will he blame the baby in your belly for being an eyesore?" The setting sun shone through the window. The sky was ablaze with sunset colors, reflecting the absolute certainty in her eyes. The blood in my veins turned to ice. As if I had lost my voice, I couldn't utter a single word. She carried a commanding, absolute confidence. This was something I could never, ever possess. Even though I had been by Arthur's side for so long, I had never truly figured out my actual worth to him. Just like the very first time we met, he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at a minor actress who looked very similar to Elena. As for why he eventually chose me? Perhaps he just wanted to use my soft obedience to prove that he no longer longed for his fiery, stubborn first love. Since he just wanted a child, then anyone would do. Why should I wade into these muddy waters? 4 But if you ask, over those five years, did Arthur really have absolutely no feelings for me? I can only say, I don't know. He just looked like a cynical playboy, flirting with everyone. In reality, he didn't care about most things. For example, every holiday gift he gave me was bought by his assistant, and the restaurants for our dates were always chosen at random. But occasionally, when I ran into trouble on set, he didn't mind personally stepping in to back me up. During my five years with him, he spent fortunes multiple times to custom-produce starring roles for me. He hired A-list actors to support me and Oscar-winning directors to helm the projects. It looked like the ultimate display of affection, but he never realized that my image just wasn't suited to be a leading lady. So, every project I starred in bombed. I flopped so hard it left everyone in the industry utterly baffled. Once, I even "won" a Razzie Award. A rival actress mocked my acting skills, and I was so upset I cried in his arms all night. At the time, he was probably trying to mold me into Elena. But that was the one area where I was least like Elena. He probably found it funny back then. His eyes held a teasing amusement: "It really is pretty bad. You didn't even cry this convincingly in bed." Over all these years, I was probably his first investment project that guaranteed a loss. He had a bit to drink that night. Maybe because he was in a good mood, or maybe because he just didn't care. He pinched my cheek with amusement, then called the organizers right in front of me and bought a Razzie Award for that rival actress too. It sounds pretty childish, but people are always moved by these childish, trivial things. Just like how I agreed to give him a child. Even though he was the one who was drunk that evening, I was the one who, as if possessed by a ghost, agreed. 5 At that time, his father was critically ill. His siblings from different mothers were all busy locking down information and fighting over the inheritance. As the youngest and most favored son, he naturally became the target of everyone's attacks. For several months, he didn't come to see me. During that time, an industry executive assumed I had been dumped and started getting handsy, asking if I wanted to be with him instead. I repeatedly refused, politely but firmly, but it still pissed him off. After a dinner party, enraged by my rejection, he cornered me in a hallway and tore half my dress. Thankfully, my manager arrived just in time to stop the nightmare. After that incident, people constantly tripped me up on set, and accidents kept happening during my wire stunts. Until the news reached Arthur's ears. He specifically took time out of his schedule to pick me up from the set. On an evening with a blazing sunset, his black Maybach appeared abruptly and quietly outside the studio. As soon as I got in the car, I smelled strong alcohol. Vodka. He must have drank quite a bit. A flush of red stained his neck. His collar was loosely unbuttoned, and the eye-catching red spread across his pale chest, more vivid than the sunset. "You lost weight," he pulled me into his arms, his long fingers rubbing the soft flesh of my waist. His lazy voice masked his exhaustion. "You aren't eating properly without me watching you, are you?" My nose stung, and my voice was soft: "No, the new role requires me to look a bit thinner..." He just held me for a while and said, "Winston will pick you up and drop you off at work for the next few days. Call him if anything happens." Winston was his private driver. To those with dirty intentions, this was an implicit warning. I sniffled and said, "Okay." Actually, I wasn't the only one who had lost weight. He had lost quite a bit, too. This was probably the first time in all these years I had seen him so depressed and exhausted. So, when he spoke up and said he wanted a baby... I froze completely for a long time. This wasn't the first time he brought up having a child. But the previous two times, he had smiled lazily, saying he was bored and wanted a kid to play with. But this time, he wasn't smiling. Rich families are full of drama. If he hadn't encountered some major crisis, he probably wouldn't be so desperate for a child. "Okay? Baby," he ruffled my hair, his breath still laced with alcohol. "Give me a child that belongs to us." It was just a child. A person always has to pay a price for a smooth, easy life. —That was the excuse I made for myself. I rested my forehead lightly against his. My long eyelashes fluttered. Looking into his eyes, I answered softly but seriously: "Okay." I said, I'll give you a child. 6 The price this child brought me was enormous. After rumors of my pregnancy leaked, first my commercial endorsements were pulled, then the roles I had secured were recast, and my social media was flooded by paid trolls. I was originally just a mediocre, unknown actress, but suddenly a mountain of scandals appeared out of nowhere. They said my acting was terrible, I only got roles because of sugar daddies, I was unprofessional, and I acted like a diva. Worse still, they claimed I was a mistress intruding on someone else's relationship. My ultrasound report was inexplicably leaked. Trending tags like "Mistress climbs the ranks by any means necessary," "Unmarried and pregnant to force the heir's hand," "First love forced away, mistress is deeply manipulative" dominated Twitter. —It was impossible to tell whose handiwork this was. For several nights, I had nightmares. I dreamt of a woman pushing me down, and blood pooling all over the floor. When I woke up in the middle of the night, my forehead and palms were covered in cold sweat. But I didn't think much of it. I just thought everything would be fine once I gave birth to the baby. This continued for four months. Until today, when I met Elena. The thing that truly made me decide to abort the baby was her final parting words— "If Arthur wants to solidify his position, he needs to bring home a legitimate Sterling heir, and a wife from a prestigious family who can bring him powerful connections." "And what Ms. Davis probably doesn't know is that when I was fourteen, I had an accident and my uterus was removed. I can never have children." So it went without saying who this child was being prepared for. She stopped there, provoking me: "But as you know, I am a very proud person. I cannot tolerate another woman's child." "Even if it is born, I have a hundred ways to ensure it suffers an 'accident'." "Ms. Davis, you should know what choice to make." She turned and left with her massive entourage of bodyguards. It seemed like she was leaving the choice in my hands, but every single word was a threat. The setting sun was a fierce, bloody orange. I stood alone in the trashed living room for a long time. The sting in my eyes slowly overflowed, my fingers curled slightly, and suddenly the tears fell. The clock on the wall ticked by, the shadows of the sunset slowly shifted, and the lonely time stretched endlessly. During my years by Arthur's side, I experienced many moments of waiting alone. He always did whatever he wanted. One second he'd say he was staying the night, and the next he'd be heading out to a club with his friends. The rumors said he was a playboy. It was probably because whenever girls threw themselves at him at those parties, he didn't mind popping a bottle of champagne for them amidst the cheering, or sharing a kiss with them. Occasionally, I would accidentally walk in on these scenes. Bystanders would joke around, asking if I wanted to find a new boyfriend. Arthur would drawl lazily, telling them to stop being a bad influence on me, then release the girl in his arms and pull me into his embrace. The gazes of the onlookers were too mocking, so I would blush and bury my face in his chest. He would rest his chin on top of my head, gently nuzzling my hair, sighing with satisfaction: "So good." Later, as it happened more often, he would bite my earlobe and ask seemingly casually: "Why do you never cause a fuss? Aren't you jealous?" I would look at the chaotic lights in the VIP room, unable to answer for a long time. Why not cause a fuss? Because I was confident in my own charm? Or because I was sober enough to know there was no future for us? Or maybe... I just hadn't played enough? If many girls threw a tantrum, they could get some compensation before turning to the next luxurious party. But I was different. I wanted to enjoy being by his side for another two years. So, I never threw a fuss. Aside from having a lot of ambiguous flings with other girls, he was incredibly good to me. Because I casually said "Why aren't there any fireworks?" on New Year's Eve, fireworks lit up the sky over the bay for the entire night. Because I showed a bit of extra fondness for a piece of jewelry, he outbid everyone to millions just to buy it for me, personally putting it on me in front of everyone. Because I wanted to see the snow, he rented out an entire private gondola line in the Swiss Alps. I had kissed him passionately on the streets of Paris, tasted wine with him at a private estate in Italy, and driven his red Ferrari through the city streets at dawn. Behind all these scenes was a level of wealth that ordinary people couldn't even imagine. Having experienced all this, I felt I should be satisfied. 7 When I finally started packing my bags, I surprisingly didn't feel much reluctance. People change. The mindset of a 23-year-old and a 28-year-old are always different. LA was great, but my hometown was my true home. If Arthur had been a bit more observant, maybe he would have noticed. My favorite vase, which usually sat in the entryway, was gone. My usually clingy kitten was lethargically licking its fur in its bed, wrapped in bandages. And there was a shallow cut on my ankle from the broken porcelain. But he didn't notice any of it. After dinner, he went into his study to handle business. He was flying to New York tomorrow to audit some shares and deal with a few illegitimate siblings. It would probably be a while before he came back. This perfectly gave me the time to get the abortion and leave. I did a lap around the house. The closet was mostly filled with luxury bags and jewelry. Even if I took them back to my hometown, they'd be useless. Just as I was about to close the closet doors. A diamond-encrusted ring fell out. At an auction last year, Arthur specifically outbid another executive's wife just to spite her, and gave it to me. It was supposed to be a matching his-and-hers set. But he threw the men's ring away. The implication was probably telling me not to get ahead of myself. I found the original velvet box to put it in, then found a postcard, wanting to write something about these past five years. But after thinking about it, I didn't know what there was to write. It was all just a mutually consensual act anyway. On the brink of falling completely for him, I was almost thankful Elena had yanked me out. I rested my chin on my hand, zoning out as I wrote, the fountain pen bleeding ink dots where I paused after every sentence— "Arthur, thank you for taking care of me these past five years." "I really like LA. It's always so lively here, but I also often felt lonely." "I really miss home, and I really want to settle down." "My parents are getting older, they can't be without me." "Don't blame me, Arthur." ... It was basically a stream of consciousness. At the end, I left one final sentence: "I hope you get what you want. Happy wedding."
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "394487", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel