Mom has a best friend who, to this day, has never married. I once naively asked my mother, "Why doesn't Aunt Brenda ever get married?" Mom smiled, booping my little nose. "Because your Aunt Brenda has incredibly high standards. She doesn't think anyone is good enough." I casually replied, "I wonder who could possibly meet such high standards?" I didn't get it until one day, while I was out shopping with friends. I watched Aunt Brenda, looking all dramatic and fragile, holding hands with a man as they walked into a boutique hotel. That's when it hit me. "So, her standards are so high because she had her eyes on my dad." 1 That night, I was lounging on the couch playing Candy Crush on my mom’s phone. A text message flashed across the top of the screen: "Accidentally got some lipstick on your hubby's collar. Make sure to wash it." "Mom! Why isn't Dad home yet?" "Let's just lock the deadbolt and leave him outside!" I shouted toward the kitchen while swiping left to delete the message. "Chloe! Watch your mouth," Mom called back, spatula in hand. "How can you lock your father out? You little ingrate." "Your father works himself to death to make money for you!" Looking at my mom—defending the man who was currently betraying her—I shook my head helplessly. "Yeah, yeah. Your husband is the hardest worker." "Best man in the world. Thanks for finding me such a great dad." "That's more like it." Mom looked satisfied and marched back to her battlefield in the kitchen. I looked at her. She was nearly forty but still had the innocence of a teenage girl. I sighed. How could someone this pure ever compete with a white lotus like Brenda? Just as I was about to lose my temper for the third time, the front door opened. "Honey! You're finally back! It's our baby girl's twentieth birthday!" "If you were any later, she was going to tear the house down!" Mom practically skipped to the door, taking his briefcase and pouting like a newlywed. Dad chuckled, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, and walked over to me. "Oh no, is our Princess upset? What are we going to do?" "Blame Daddy. If I hadn't flown to LA to pick up your gift personally, I wouldn't be late." "Look at that pout. You could hang a coat hanger on it." I narrowed my eyes at him. It wasn't until he pulled the keys to a Mercedes G-Wagon out of his pocket that I let out a dry laugh. "Truly a model father and husband." Even when he goes out to buy his daughter a gift, he doesn't forget to take his side-piece along for the ride. The internet is right: When men cheat, they become master time managers. Dad beamed, thinking I was genuinely praising him. "Come on, let's eat. Let's celebrate my daughter entering her twenties." At the dinner table, I raised my glass. I stared at his crisp, white collar. When I leaned in, I could smell the faint scent of hotel shower gel. So he went back to the hotel after landing? That’s why he was late. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Then, the doorbell rang. "Oh! That must be your Aunt Brenda." Mom tapped her forehead. "I almost forgot." Mom rushed to the foyer and opened the door. "Hey bestie! Long time no see!" Brenda hugged my mom enthusiastically, just like always. But her eyes were darting back and forth between me and my dad. Dad brought his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat awkwardly. The food tasted like wax in my mouth. "Chloe is getting prettier every day," Brenda cooed. "Really growing into a woman." I looked at this woman—smiling with fake kindness—and the corners of my mouth turned down. "Chloe, what's wrong with you? Aunt Brenda is talking to you. Where are your manners?" My disgust must have been too obvious because Mom shot me a warning look. 2 Ever since I saw Dad and Brenda walking into that hotel, I couldn't unsee it. Every time I saw them in the same room, my brain involuntarily conjured up images of them rolling around in bed sheets. I literally gagged. "Chloe? Chloe, are you okay?" I was hugging the trash can, dry heaving. Mom looked terrified. She patted my back gently. "Did you eat something weird outside again?" She immediately poured me a glass of my favorite watermelon juice. Looking at my mom’s worried face, I felt a lump in my throat. I glanced over at the two of them exchanging looks. I clenched my fists under the table. Mom and I are right here, and they're still making eyes at each other? Do they have no respect for us? I almost screamed, "Mom, divorce him! Dad is cheating on you! Your best friend is a snake!" But I stopped myself a second before the words left my mouth. Exposing them now would be too easy. Too cheap. "Dad," I said, composing myself. "Remember you promised that once I started college, you'd buy me a condo near campus?" "I want to move out. It’ll be easier for when I start prepping for grad school." "After all, I'm your only daughter. I have to inherit the company one day, right?" Dad nodded happily. "Of course, of course. If my daughter wants to study hard, I support it 100%." "Tomorrow, I'll take you to look at condos." Mom smiled, looking proud of my ambition. But my eyes were locked on Brenda. Sure enough, as soon as she heard "buy a condo," her face turned green. Hah. People would think she’s the one paying for it. She gritted her teeth but forced a smile. "Richard..." "You just bought Chloe a G-Wagon. You shouldn't spoil children like this." "What if she gets entitled?" Mom’s expression shifted slightly. Before she could speak, I cut in. "Listen to Aunt Brenda," I said sarcastically. "Making me sound like a delinquent." "I'm their only child. If they don't spend money on me, who should they spend it on?" "I was Valedictorian. I'm trying to level up so I can help Dad run the business sooner so he can retire." "What? Does Aunt Brenda disagree with my parents buying me things?" "Strangers might think you're the lady of the house." The faces of the three adults changed instantly. Dad turned red. Mom gave Brenda a complicated look. Brenda, feeling the heat, went pale. She waved her hands frantically. "No, no, Chloe, you misunderstood." "I watched you grow up. How could I not want your dad to buy you things?" "I was just worried you'd be stressed living alone. You're young; you should enjoy life." I sneered at her clumsy attempt to backpedal. 3 The atmosphere, once lively, was now suffocatingly awkward. For the rest of the meal, Brenda kept her head down and didn't say a word. Dad, clearly annoyed by the tension, stopped joking around with her. I, on the other hand, felt fantastic watching them suffer. Halfway through the meal, I dropped my chopstick. As I bent down to pick it up, my eyes went wide. I saw Brenda slip her foot out of her heel and rub it against my dad’s calf. Rage shot through me. I wound up my leg and kicked her high heel as hard as I could, sending it sliding across the floor. Brenda felt her shoe vanish and panicked. Dad looked at me, terrified. Luckily, Mom was in the kitchen getting soup. When she walked back in, she didn't see the shoe... until she tripped over it. "Ouch! Why is there a shoe here?" Mom looked down at the black stiletto in confusion. "Brenda... I told you. You can wear slippers in the house." "I don't get why you wear heels all day. Doesn't it hurt?" Mom picked up the shoe and walked it over to Brenda. "Here! Don't leave them lying around. Someone could get hurt." I have never seen a human being turn red that fast. Brenda muttered a weak "Sorry" and glanced at me fearfully. I raised an eyebrow and smirked. That was probably the most indigestion she's ever had at a dinner. The next morning, I dragged Dad out to buy a luxury condo right across from my university. Fully furnished. Ready to move in. Maybe it was the guilt from last night. While Mom was signing the paperwork, Dad pulled me aside. "Chloe... last night... your Aunt Brenda accidentally bumped into me." "Don't tell your mother. You know how she gets." I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. Accidentally? Do you think I'm three? Before I could roast him, he pulled out a black credit card. "Here. You've been working hard. Treat yourself." "Don't be afraid to spend it. I make money so my two girls can spend it." Adopting the philosophy of "take what you can get," I snatched the card. I immediately posted a photo on Instagram: Thanks Daddy for building the empire for his past-life lover. You keep grinding, I'll keep spending. Forever your little princess. That night, I heard Dad call Mom saying he had to work late. I scoffed. Honestly, at this point... I hated the mistress, but I hated my shameless father even more. One was my Mom's "sister," the other was her "soulmate." And they were stabbing her in the back simultaneously. Mom hung up and tried calling Brenda. But surprise, surprise—no answer. "Chloe, do you think your Aunt Brenda is dating someone?" "I can't reach her. Last week I saw a hickey on her neck." "Hmph! She's not a real friend. Keeping secrets from me." I rubbed my temples, looking at my mom pouting on the sofa. 4 My mom has been pampered her whole life. She's forty going on fourteen. Dad was a scholarship kid from a rural town. If he hadn't met Mom, he'd probably be digging ditches. Grandma and Grandpa had foresight, though. All the family assets are in Mom's name. They signed a prenup: If Dad cheats, he leaves with nothing. But over the years, the company grew. Dad ran the operations. Nobody knows how much money the company actually makes now. Nobody knows how much Dad has stashed away in offshore accounts. I have to take my time. One wrong move, and we lose the leverage. For the next few days, I used my "internship" as an excuse to haunt the office. I saw Brenda picking him up and dropping him off constantly. Finally, I caught them in the parking garage. "Wow, Aunt Brenda! You have so much free time," I said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Did you apply to be Dad's chauffeur?" "Dad kept this quiet. I need to tell Mom what a great friend you are." I had spent the last few days digging into the company financials. Dad was cooking the books. Massive tax evasion. He was funneling money into private accounts. I glared at the man in the suit. I couldn't believe this scum was the hero I looked up to as a child. "Chloe, honey," Dad stammered. " The driver is... busy." "Your Aunt is just doing me a favor. Your Mom always says we should look out for her." I laughed out loud. Look out for her? You’re looking out for her all the way to the bedroom. I shot a cold glare at Brenda, who was staring at her shoes, silent. I left the office and drove straight to my grandparents' estate. They were retired now, living the good life. They never really liked Dad, but tolerated him because the business was doing well. As soon as I walked in, I collapsed into their arms and started sobbing. "Nana! Pop! What do I do? I think Dad is cheating!" They jumped up. "Baby, is that true? You can't joke about that!" I nodded, tears streaming down my face. "Yes! I saw them!" "What if I lose my family? What if Dad gives all the money to someone else?" "Will Mom and I be homeless? Will I have to beg on the streets?" My grandparents, seeing their precious granddaughter in distress, went into war mode.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "387562", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel