MTL - Forced Marriage VIP Front-Seat: My Superstar Ex-wife is very Popular - Chapter 7 She and Joe's son

Qiao Yue was a premature baby. Her mother died early, while her father’s identity was unknown. Later, she was adopted by a mysterious big shot who created a mysterious multinational group for her with all the finance and material resources he had. The businesses under her name spanned various industries, and her assets were countless. Her subordinates were also famous big shots in their respective industries. As the person who had all of this behind the scenes, Qiao Yue had just turned eighteen and was about to return to her grandfather’s house. In fact, Qiao Yue’s mother was only the old man’s goddaughter, yet he treated her like his real daughter and brought her up as one.

Because her grandfather couldn’t accept her mother’s relationship, she ran away from home with her lover and finally died outside. Before her mother died, she asked Qiao Yue to return to the Qiao family to repay their kindness, which was the reason for Qiao Yue to head back now. However, what awaited her was not a warm welcome ceremony, but four max-level big-shot elder brothers who extremely disliked her. The eldest brother was proficient in medicine. With a scalpel in hand, he could wrestle a person’s life back from death’s doors. The second brother had supernatural powers and was worth hundreds of billions.

He had a creed all his life — there was nothing one couldn’t solve with money. If there was, then it meant you simply didn’t have enough money! The third brother was a celebrity superstar. Any action he made could go viral online. He was an artist whom everyone wanted to work with, and was also beloved by the entire nation! The fourth brother was the god of learning. With a smart brain and charming face, he was acknowledged as Prince Charming of the campus! At first, when the four brothers saw their “younger brother”, they were unhappy. Until… Eldest: “What? It’s a sister, not a brother?!” Second: “What? The world e-sports champion is actually Yueyue?!”Third: “What? Yueyue was the one who started my favorite sports car company?!”Fourth: “What? Yueyue has no blood relation to us?!”When they found out there were people pursuing Qiao Yue, her second brother’s face darkened. “Get lost! Yueyue is mine!” All her other brothers: ???

When I died I meet with this being who offered me a new chance at life, to actually become someone important and I agreed and was reborn as none other as the First Man.But to think that everything that I ever knew was nothing more than a lie, what am I going to do to survive in such a world?

He was the cold-blooded prince of the Jin country. Decisive and smart, he had looked down on the world with apathy and disdain.

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.