From Shadows, I Rise

From Shadows, I Rise

Mo Moqi

5.0
Comment(s)
213
View
11
Chapters

The rejection email was just another polite "no" in a sea of them, a stark reminder that my art, full of abstract shapes and raw emotion, didn\'t sell. My studio apartment was small, the rent was late, and I was perpetually, painfully broke. Then my father died, and the will was read: everything, the grand house, the stock portfolio, the priceless art collection, all went to my older sister, Olivia. Not a single mention of me. It was a final, public dismissal, echoing a lifetime of being told I was a disappointment. Even worse, Olivia and her slick fiancé, David, weren\'t just inheriting; they were erasing me. They were planning to auction off a collection of "newly discovered masterpieces" from my father\'s estate-masterpieces that were, in fact, my early college works, secretly bought by my father under a pseudonym because, as I would later discover, he actually believed in me. My mother' s whispered call about a "surprise for you" before Olivia cut the line, then Arthur Sterling\'s revelation that my father had secretly collected my art for years, planning a grand exhibition for me, shattered my world. Every cold comment, every dismissal, every belief I held about my place in the family-all lies. The truth fueled a rage so cold and sharp, it cut through the shock. This wasn\'t just about a broken heart; it was about art, legacy, and a fundamental theft. I looked at Mr. Sterling, the struggling, adrift artist gone. In her place, a woman fueled by a burning need for truth. "They\'re going to sell my art," I said, "As his." I would not let that happen.

From Shadows, I Rise Introduction

The rejection email was just another polite "no" in a sea of them, a stark reminder that my art, full of abstract shapes and raw emotion, didn\'t sell. My studio apartment was small, the rent was late, and I was perpetually, painfully

broke.

Then my father died, and the will was read: everything, the grand house, the stock portfolio, the priceless art collection, all went to my older sister, Olivia. Not a single mention of me. It was a final, public dismissal, echoing a lifetime of being told I was a disappointment.

Even worse, Olivia and her slick fiancé, David, weren\'t just inheriting; they were erasing me. They were planning to auction off a collection of "newly discovered masterpieces" from my father\'s estate-masterpieces that were, in fact, my early college works, secretly bought by my father under a pseudonym because, as I would later discover, he actually believed in me.

My mother' s whispered call about a "surprise for you" before Olivia cut the line, then Arthur Sterling\'s revelation that my father had secretly collected my art for years, planning a grand exhibition for me, shattered my world. Every cold comment, every dismissal, every belief I held about my place in the family-all lies.

The truth fueled a rage so cold and sharp, it cut through the shock. This wasn\'t just about a broken heart; it was about art, legacy, and a fundamental theft. I looked at Mr. Sterling, the struggling, adrift artist gone. In her place, a woman fueled by a burning need for truth. "They\'re going to sell my art," I said, "As his." I would not let that happen.

Continue Reading

Other books by Mo Moqi

More

You'll also like

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Temple Madison
4.6

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
From Shadows, I Rise From Shadows, I Rise Mo Moqi Modern
“The rejection email was just another polite "no" in a sea of them, a stark reminder that my art, full of abstract shapes and raw emotion, didn\'t sell. My studio apartment was small, the rent was late, and I was perpetually, painfully broke. Then my father died, and the will was read: everything, the grand house, the stock portfolio, the priceless art collection, all went to my older sister, Olivia. Not a single mention of me. It was a final, public dismissal, echoing a lifetime of being told I was a disappointment. Even worse, Olivia and her slick fiancé, David, weren\'t just inheriting; they were erasing me. They were planning to auction off a collection of "newly discovered masterpieces" from my father\'s estate-masterpieces that were, in fact, my early college works, secretly bought by my father under a pseudonym because, as I would later discover, he actually believed in me. My mother' s whispered call about a "surprise for you" before Olivia cut the line, then Arthur Sterling\'s revelation that my father had secretly collected my art for years, planning a grand exhibition for me, shattered my world. Every cold comment, every dismissal, every belief I held about my place in the family-all lies. The truth fueled a rage so cold and sharp, it cut through the shock. This wasn\'t just about a broken heart; it was about art, legacy, and a fundamental theft. I looked at Mr. Sterling, the struggling, adrift artist gone. In her place, a woman fueled by a burning need for truth. "They\'re going to sell my art," I said, "As his." I would not let that happen.”
1

Introduction

30/06/2025

2

Chapter 1

30/06/2025

3

Chapter 2

30/06/2025

4

Chapter 3

30/06/2025

5

Chapter 4

30/06/2025

6

Chapter 5

30/06/2025

7

Chapter 6

30/06/2025

8

Chapter 7

30/06/2025

9

Chapter 8

30/06/2025

10

Chapter 9

30/06/2025

11

Chapter 10

30/06/2025