I stayed in this simulation, this constructed reality, for three long years. I stayed for one reason: to take care of Martin Pierce, the man who had supposedly suffered irreversible brain damage while saving my life. The System’s punishments were a constant, quiet hum of agony in my veins, but I endured them in silence. For him. Until the afternoon he drove his SUV straight into me, sending my body flying across the asphalt. As I lay bleeding, he walked over, his fingers perfectly interlaced with Evie’s—the fragile, tragic girl who had always haunted his heart. Looking down at me with cold, lucid eyes, he casually explained that he had been faking his mental deficit the entire time. He had been waiting for this exact moment. Once I bled out, he and his precious Evie would inherit my status as the System’s "Host," granting them the one thing money couldn't buy: immortality. I looked up at them. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, but inside, I felt an eerie, hollow calm. System, I thought, projecting my voice into the void of my mind. I have two new candidates willing to take my place. Can I finally go home now? 1. "So, you were faking it. Every single day." I lay in a spreading pool of my own blood, staring up at Martin in disbelief. He pulled Evie tighter against his side. The dark depths of his eyes held nothing but frost. "Obviously," he said, his voice smooth, devoid of the childlike stutter I had spent three years soothing. "How else was I supposed to make you pity me enough to stay?" He offered a tight, patronizing smile. "Though I suppose I should thank you. If you hadn't spilled the secret about the System, I never would have found a way to save Evie." Evie shrank against his chest, her pale, delicate face a portrait of practiced fragility. She was Martin’s first love, the girl who got away. She had leukemia. She had been fighting a losing battle against it for years. Martin used to tell me, with that vacant, innocent look in his eyes: I don't care that she's sick. She's in the past, Jo. I only want you. Only now did I realize the depth of his long con. He had been orchestrating this for three years, all to save her. Suddenly, a tearing, white-hot agony ripped through my chest. It had nothing to do with the shattered ribs from the car hitting me. It was the System. The punishment protocol. Because my assigned mission was to win Martin's love. And if he didn't love me, I paid the price in pain. "God, it hurts..." The whimper slipped past my bloody lips before I could stop it. I had endured this sensation—the feeling of my joints being pulled apart, my nerves catching fire—dozens of times over the years. But a person never truly gets used to torture. "Is it really that bad?" Martin looked down at me, mildly amused. "I thought you Hosts could just ask the System to turn off your pain receptors." His casual cruelty was dizzying. It brought back a sudden, sharp memory of our golden days. The days when he looked at me like I hung the moon. I had been so stupidly in love, so convinced I had found my soulmate in this artificial reality, that I confessed the truth about the System to him. But I never told him about the punishments. I hadn't wanted him to worry. The invisible fire inside me flared higher. I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ground together. "Stop talking," I gasped out. Every word he spoke, every confirmation of his lack of love, dialed up the System's torture. Evie suddenly stepped forward, crouching just out of reach of the blood, and put her hands on her knees. "Joanne, does it really hurt?" she asked, her voice dripping with saccharine concern. She looked up at Martin. "Martin, maybe we shouldn't do this. I don't need to live forever. It's okay if I die." "Absolutely not." Martin shot it down instantly, his gaze softening entirely as he looked at her. "Evie, it's different for her. She's a Host. Even if she dies here, she just wakes up in her original world. But if you die, I lose you forever. Don't waste your pity on her." Where Martin couldn't see, Evie’s lips curved into a smug, triumphant smirk. Leaning in closer to me, she dropped her voice to a whisper. "Did you know I was the one who told him to keep saying he doesn't love you? I figured out that's what triggers your little punishments. He knows exactly what it does to you." She stood back up, sighing dramatically. "He doesn't love you, Joanne. He never did. He only loves me. I am the main character of his story, after all." The moment the words left her mouth, Martin pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. The look in his eyes was devastatingly tender. "I bought the estate in the Palisades," he murmured to her. "The one you liked. It'll be our home." My breath hitched. I had told Martin once, late at night, that I grew up in the foster system back in my real world. I had no family, no roots. My only dream was to build a real home. He had bought that estate in the Palisades for me. I had spent the last year agonizing over the renovations, the paint colors, the kitchen tile, waiting for the day we could finally move in. And now, he was handing the keys to my executioner. I let my head fall back against the pavement, staring up at the smoggy sky. System, I thought. I found them. Two new Hosts, completely willing. Can I go now? Martin Pierce. You threw me away. So be it. I'm throwing you away, too. 2. [Acknowledged. Scanning for willing Host replacements... Match confirmed.] [Host, are you absolutely certain you wish to transfer your binding to these two individuals?] Listening to the sterile, echoing voice of the System in my mind, I dragged my eyes back to Martin and Evie. They were making out against the backdrop of the city skyline, entirely unbothered by my dying body on the ground. For a split second, an old memory superimposed itself over the horrific present. I saw the Martin from two years ago, the one who smiled at me with pure, unjaded devotion. Thank you for staying with me, Jo. I love you. He used to warm up milk for me when I couldn't sleep. He used to wash my stained sheets when my period cramps were too bad to move. No one had ever loved me in the details before. I really thought he was my safe harbor. I was so profoundly wrong. I'm certain, I answered the System. The thought tasted like ash. [Understood, Host. Initiating transfer protocol.] "Why isn't the System showing up?" Evie whined, pulling back from Martin. Martin stroked her hair. "She's probably negotiating with it right now. Just give it a second. She always spaces out when she talks to the thing." [Greetings, Candidates.] The System's voice suddenly materialized into the open air, a metallic resonance that they could hear, too. [As of today, you will become my new Hosts. Please state your chosen targets for the affection-binding protocol.] "I choose Evie Lawson," Martin said instantly. "I choose Martin Pierce," Evie echoed. They spoke in perfect unison, their hands clasped tight. A picture-perfect portrait of true love. My chest tightened. I remembered when Martin had looked at me with that same unwavering certainty, swearing, I will choose my Jo, every single time, no matter what. But times change. People change. [Acknowledged. However, the transfer calibration requires a 72-hour gestation period. You must wait three days.] The ambient hum vanished, and the System's voice retreated back into the privacy of my mind. [You will be extracted in exactly three days, Host. I will accelerate your cellular repair so you may spend this time saying your goodbyes to your loved ones in this reality.] The moment the transmission ended, the agonizing fire in my veins shifted into a cool, tingling sensation. The broken ribs knitted together. The lacerations sealed. Martin let out a breath of awe. "Look, Evie. I told you she could just have the System heal her. The System is incredible. Once we have it, we'll never have to worry about sickness or death again." I slowly pushed myself off the blood-stained pavement, looking at him with utter exhaustion. He had no idea. He thought the System was a god of miracles. He didn't know it was a warden. 3. I took an Uber straight to the hospital to see Grandpa Joe. In this entire constructed world, outside of Martin, Grandpa Joe was my only anchor. He was the only family I had. He had treated me with a kindness I had never known in my real life. He had emptied his meager savings account to help Martin and me buy our first car. He would always save the best cuts of meat from his dinners, wrapping them in foil just for me. As I walked down the sterile hospital corridor, I froze. Martin and Evie were walking toward me. They were holding hands, swinging them lightly between them. In Martin’s free hand was a glossy sonogram printout. "I can't believe it, Evie. I'm going to be a father," Martin was saying, his voice thick with emotion. The words were a physical blow, a machete to the chest. I had begged Martin for a baby. When I thought he was mentally recovering, I had gently broached the topic of starting a family. He had pulled away, his face twisting in distaste. I don't want kids, Jo. They're too loud. They're a burden. I had brushed it off, thinking it was just his condition talking. Now, standing in the harsh fluorescent light of the hallway, the truth was glaringly obvious. He didn't hate the idea of children. He just hated the idea of having one with me. He had been sleeping with Evie while I was playing house, playing nurse, playing the devoted wife. [Host, I am permanently disabling your punishment receptors. You will no longer suffer physical repercussions tied to your target's emotional state.] As the System spoke, an immense, suffocating weight lifted from my shoulders. It was as if I had been carrying a boulder for three years and someone had finally cut the straps. I was free. The emotional shackles were gone. I watched Martin and Evie walk past me without a second glance. And to my surprise, I realized I felt fine. 4. When I walked into his room, Grandpa Joe’s eyes lit up. He immediately reached for a plastic container on his bedside table. "Joanie," he rasped, offering it to me with trembling hands. "The nurse gave me these dumplings. I saved them for you. Eat up." The dam broke. Hot, stinging tears spilled down my cheeks. If I left this world in three days, what would happen to him? Who would pay his exorbitant medical bills? Who would sit with him? I had to secure his future before I vanished. I wiped my face, kissed his forehead, and practically ran out of the hospital, heading straight for the house I had shared with Martin. Every dime I had earned over the last three years—my flower shop revenue, my investments—was sitting in a joint account controlled by Martin. When I arrived at the townhouse, Maria, the housekeeper, was hauling garbage bags onto the porch. She jumped when she saw me. "Miss Joanne... Mr. Pierce told me to pack up all your things. He said... he said you wouldn't be living here anymore." I looked past her. Through the open bags, I could see my clothes violently shoved inside. I saw the shattered pieces of the plaster figurine Martin and I had painted together on our first anniversary. He was erasing me. With brutal efficiency. I didn't care about the clothes, but I needed my debit card. I stepped up to the digital keypad on the front door and punched in my code. BEEP. Error. Maria looked down at her shoes. "He had me change the code this morning, Miss." My heart gave a dull, hollow thud. I steadied my breathing. "What's the new code, Maria?" She hesitated, terrified of being caught in the crossfire. "Maria, please," I kept my voice even. "My wallet is inside. I just need to get it." She swallowed hard. "08122018." August 12, 2018. The day Martin and Evie first started dating. I took two steps back, a dark, cynical laugh bubbling up in my throat. Just yesterday, he had held me in bed, kissing the back of my neck, whispering that he loved me. Just this morning, he had asked me to get out of the car on a deserted stretch of road, telling me to cover my eyes because he had a "surprise" for me. I had stood there, heart pounding with anticipation, only to be hit by a two-ton vehicle. He wanted me dead so badly. He was so desperate to steal my power. But Martin Pierce had absolutely no idea the kind of hell he was inheriting. 5. I punched in the code and pushed the door open. Martin had Evie pressed up against the marble kitchen island. His hands were gripping her waist, his face buried in her neck, murmuring about how he was going to worship her forever. My purse slipped from my fingers, hitting the hardwood with a loud thwack. Even knowing I was leaving, even having let him go, seeing the man I had bathed and fed and loved for three years dry-humping someone else in our kitchen was a punch to the gut. "What the hell are you doing here?" Martin snapped, pulling back. His eyes narrowed with immediate hostility. "You aren't welcome here." His icy glare violently transported me back to a night three years ago. I had defied a direct order from the System to save him from a bad business deal. The punishment was the sensation of having my femur snapped in half. I had laid on the floor, biting a towel to keep from screaming, wishing for death. But I survived it, because I thought we were building a forever together. I was such a fool. "I came for my money," I said, my voice dead flat. "The money I earned from the shop is in the joint account. I need it to pay for my grandfather's surgery." Martin didn't even flinch. He just tightened his grip on Evie’s waist, dragging his thumb lazily over her hipbone, deliberately ignoring me as if I were a telemarketer on the phone. Bile rose in the back of my throat. I swallowed it down. Three days. Just three days. "Fine. I'll get the card myself." I started toward the master bedroom, but Evie’s voice stopped me. "Joanne, wait. Isn't your grandpa doing better? Why would you need that much cash?" She blinked, all wide-eyed innocence. "Are you trying to embezzle Martin's money so you can take it back to your real world?" Martin’s head snapped toward me, his jaw clenching. "Is that it? You're just a parasite?" he sneered. "Let me make this crystal clear: even the money you brought in belongs to this world. You aren't taking a single red cent with you." The sheer audacity of it left me momentarily speechless. The gentle, devoted Martin was entirely dead. This man was a stranger. "Martin, I told you, it's for my grandfather's hospital bills. I'm not taking anything with me." "I don't give a damn. Get out of my house!" I balled my hands into fists. There was no reasoning with him. He had completely bought into whatever narrative Evie spun for him. 6. I turned on my heel to leave, but Evie suddenly lunged forward, grabbing my forearm. "Joanne, don't leave mad! If you really need cash, I can loan you some of my allowance." Before I could pull away, she suddenly let go, throwing herself backward. She crashed to the floor, intentionally cracking the side of her head against the edge of the glass coffee table. "Ah! Oh my god, it hurts!" she shrieked. "Evie!" Martin didn't even think. He crossed the room in two strides and shoved me with all his strength. I stumbled backward, slamming into the tea station. The heavy, boiling-hot electric kettle tipped over, raining scalding water down my shoulder and chest. I screamed, dropping to my knees as the heat blistered my skin. "What is wrong with you, Joanne?!" Martin roared, kneeling beside Evie to check her head. "If you're pissed at me, take it out on me! Don't you dare touch her!" His voice was a violent physical assault. Could he really not see the steam rising from my soaked shirt? Did he not care that my skin was peeling? I didn't have the energy to fight him anymore. I just needed to take care of Grandpa Joe and go home. "Martin," I breathed heavily, clutching my arm. "Just give me the five hundred thousand. Half a million. That's my share. Give it to me, and I walk out that door and you never see me again. If you don't, I swear to God I will make Evie's life a living hell." "You bitch." He stood up, his eyes black with rage. He lunged at me, his hand clamping around my throat. He pinned me to the cabinetry, his grip tightening, systematically cutting off my oxygen. "Why do you have to be so damn toxic? Why couldn't you just let us have a clean break?" he hissed in my face. "I... wanted a... clean break," I choked out, clawing at his wrist. "I just... want my money." He stared at me with pure disgust, then let go, throwing me to the floor like trash. "Fine. You want the money? I'll give it to you." He adjusted his cuffs, breathing hard. "On one condition." "What?" I coughed, rubbing my bruised throat. "Get on your knees and apologize to Evie." I froze. I looked up at him, searching for even a flicker of the man who used to rub my feet after a long day at the flower shop. There was nothing. "Okay." I forced myself up. I dragged my battered body over to where Evie was sitting on the sofa, clutching an ice pack. I dropped to my knees. "I'm sorry," I said, bowing my head. Suddenly, Martin's hand was on the back of my neck. He shoved my face downward, slamming my forehead into the hardwood floor. I bit down on my tongue so hard I tasted copper. "You made her hit her head," Martin said coldly above me. "Now we're even." "Okay," I whispered to the floorboards. "Can I have my card now?" He reached into his wallet, pulled out the black debit card, and dropped it onto the toe of his leather shoe. "Crawl over here and take it." "Okay." I heard him shift, genuinely surprised by my total submission. I used to be so proud. I used to demand respect. But what did pride matter now? I was a ghost in this world. I just needed to buy my grandfather some time. I dragged myself forward. As my fingers brushed the card on his shoe, he suddenly stomped down, pinning my hand beneath his heel. He ground his jaw. "It's pathetic how low you'll sink for a paycheck, Jo." A hot tear finally broke free, tracking through the dust on my cheek. He didn't care about me. He never did. I pulled the card free and scrambled to my feet. Just as I did, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from the hospital: Grandpa Joe coding. In resuscitation. Panic seized me. I bolted for the door, but Martin caught me by the back of my shirt, violently yanking me back. "Think you can just take the money and run? Nothing in this life is free, Jo." He practically spat the words. "You're staying right here. You're going to be our maid for the next few days." "Let me go!" I thrashed wildly against his grip, but he was too strong. "Martin, my grandfather is dying! Let me go to the hospital!" "You're pathetic," Martin laughed darkly. "The second you get the cash, suddenly your grandpa is dying. You'd use an old man's life just to pull a scam." "I'm not lying!" I screamed, tears blinding me. Suddenly, the cold, metallic voice echoed in my skull. [Host, the transfer matrix has initialized early. The 72-hour window is no longer required. Would you like to execute the transfer now?]
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "422544", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel