Confucius Ads Library: Ads

Ads for foobar on 2024-09-30

Id	Vlad	Saved	Scrape Time	Status	Scrape Result	Title	Body	Cta Type	Link Url	Page Name	Page Profile Uri	Page Like Count	Enddate	Cta Text	Caption	Display Format	Link Description	Link Url	Creation Time	Page Profile Picture Url	Page Entity Type	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,063,521	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2063520}'	Yes	2024-10-01 07:03	active	1561	👇 Click here to continue reading	CLAUDIA. “Attention, calling all maids to the throne room.” I freeze as the announcement blares through the speakers. I’m in the maid’s quarters, looking for something in my drawers, and I have to admit that this is an interruption. My friend Maia, another maid, watches me with boredom as the announcement continues to echo in the room. “Give it up, Claudia. Stop trying to prove that you were friends with the Alpha King when you were kids. You’re a maid and what would Alpha Achilles want to do with you?” I don’t answer her. I just flip over my bottom drawer until all my socks fall out. But along with the socks comes a small folded parchment, containing the words, “To Claudia, from Achilles.” “Aha!” I shove the paper right into her hands. “Feast on that.” Maia rolls her eyes, but she just reads it aloud. “Dear Claudia, I hope this note finds you well. I refused to open the door for you because I believe I made things clear. We are no longer friends.” She chucks the paper at me. “How old is this note?” My face heats up. “Maybe eighteen years?” “So he sent that to you when he was twelve and you were… six?” “Yes,” I mutter, pocketing the note. “It’s important to me, okay?” She laughs at me. “Why? Because you’re hoping you could be close again? He’s the Alpha King now, Claudia. And our duty is to keep this place and the people running. Get over yourself and let’s go before we get thrown out.” Everything she said was right. It’s a stupid thing to hold onto, but I can’t let it go. Even when Maia drags me to the throne room, I find myself bursting with hope. All the maids are now gathered for some sort of meeting, and instead of worrying about what it’s for, I’m craning my neck, trying to look at the golden thrones on the dais. But the only person I find standing there is Beta Carlos, a tanned, dark-haired unit of a man who handles everything minor for Alpha Achilles. He surveys the room with indifference, as a person of his standing usually does, clearing his throat before speaking. “I gathered you all here because we need one maid to come with us to the Moonlight Grove Pack for the annual winter solstice meeting tonight. Since we are short-staffed, we decided to see if anyone volunteers first.” I wait for hands to shoot into the air, but there are only whispers rippling among the crowd. The maids are all avoiding Beta Carlos’s eyes as though they would evaporate if they made eye contact with him. I understand why. Rogue attacks have been notorious lately. Our pack, Sangria Amori, is the biggest and the strongest, which is the reason why we haven’t experienced any breaches yet. But the smaller packs have, and it’s enough for some of our maids to quit to be with their families. The only ones who are stuck here are the single maids or the ones who are desperate for money. Then you have people like me, loyal servants for generations. Beta Carlos’s frustration is clear now. He opens his mouth to say something but he stops when the curtains behind him suddenly open. And out comes the Alpha King himself, Achilles. The world stops. My heart picks up its pace, beating so fast that I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I stare at him as he stands next to Beta Carlos, towering over him by half a foot. Everyone inside the room sinks into a bow, but I don’t. I can’t. The only thing I can do is stare at him. It’s like he has his own gravitational pull on me. I’m unable to look away from the shiny waves of his black hair and the coolness of his blue eyes. Despite the raging snow outside, his skin has a touch of gold, complimenting the bloodred coat he’s wearing. His presence is almost divine. Even the chandelier lights from above seem to be drawn to him. As though it can’t get any better, he meets my eyes. And just like that, I raise my hand. “I volunteer to come to the solstice meeting.” “What are you thinking?” Maia hisses at me, trying to tug at my uniform to get me to lower my hand. But Beta Carlos already saw me. Alpha Achilles did too. However, his face darkens with disapproval. I clear my throat and speak louder. “I volunteer! I will serve—” “Claudia, is it?” Beta Carlos interjects. “Have you forgotten that our Alpha King… can’t hear you?” The silence that follows is almost loud. Loud enough to make my ears pop. Only then do I realize my mistake. Alpha Achilles is deaf and mute. For some reason, this has also affected his ability to mind-link. These are details that I shouldn’t be forgetting, but then again, he and I have a history, and he didn’t use to be that way. We played together a lot as kids. He would take me to the forests behind the palace so we could pretend to spar. We were inseparable, until one night. All I can remember was waking up in the infirmary dripping wet and cold. Achilles wasn’t with me, but I was told he was in his room. I didn’t know what happened, and I still don’t. But the first day I tried to visit him in his room was when I received his note. Fast forward six years. He was eighteen, I was twelve. He got crowned as the next Alpha King. He could no longer hear or speak. Some say it was a curse from the Moon Goddess. Some say it was a developing disease in his body that reached its peak. It’s been twelve years since that reveal. He’s thirty now, and I’m twenty-four. No one knows the truth yet. I want to tell him that I’m sorry through sign language, but I don’t know how. He just turns to Beta Carlos and shakes his head ever so subtly. He doesn’t want me to come. Beta Carlos swallows. “Claudia… would you come up here, please? The rest are dismissed.” As I make my way to the dais, the maids start to file out of the throne room. Maia catches my eyes for a second and shakes her head, but I continue to walk until I’m standing in front of them. “No one else wants to come,” I point out in a shaky voice. “I… I want to go. I want to help.” Beta Carlos looks at Alpha Achilles pointedly. I don’t know what kind of communication is happening between them, but it seems that Beta Carlos is urging him to give it a chance, probably because they have no other choice. Alpha Achilles doesn’t seem to want to, but in the end, he relents and stands close to me. So close that I can catch his scent. So close that I can see the flecks of green in his eyes. So close that he can kiss me if he wants to. My breath hitches in my throat. Longing fills my heart. How many times have I wished this to happen? I want to say so much to him. I feel like so much time has been stolen from us. Our friendship was so amazing…. “I will do well,” I whisper. “I won’t let you down.” Alpha Achilles stares at me for a couple more seconds, then he just turns around and walks away. Beta Carlos sighs and starts to follow him, turning to me at the last second as though I’m an afterthought. “Follow me.” I run after him through the tunnel behind the throne room, but his long legs are carrying him so far and I have to jog to keep up. Finally, we arrive at the back lawn of the palace. The cold hits me like a punch in the gut, but Beta Carlos tosses me a fur coat. I wriggle into it as a carriage pulls up in front of us, with a sleek red and gold body, pulled by two palomino horses. “Get in,” he says blandly, and I climb into the carriage with him behind me. Alpha Achilles is already inside, staring through the window, completely ignoring my presence. I try to communicate with him, but Beta Carlos gets in and pushes me into the corner as the carriage starts to move. The seats are cushioned and the walls are upholstered with red velvet, but I still get hurt as the carriage basically leaps and crashes on the cold snowy ground. The horses are running at full speed, which I understand, because we are about two hours until dusk, and Moonlight Grove Pack is one hour away. The coachman whips the horses, rallying them into a frenzied sprint faster than before. I gasp as I fly off my seat. I thought things would settle after a while, but something seemed to be off. The horses are whinnying. The silent path is now riddled with a mix of thuds and heavy breaths. A strange smell permeates the air. A putrid stench, a mix of rot and blood and savagery. The scent of Rogues. $Chapter Chapter 2 CLAUDIA. Fear grips my throat like a vice. I look over at Alpha Achilles and Beta Carlos, and it seems that they noticed the stench too. “We’re being followed,” Beta Carlos tells me. “When I tell you to hide, you hide, alright? We will outrun them and kill them at the same time.” I just nod, paralyzed in the corner as growls and howls start to fill the air. This isn’t my first time to encounter Rogues. I ran into a small pack of them once when I was one of the maids assigned to do the shopping for the palace. This was two years ago, but I still remember it so vividly. Our carriage, much older and less stable than this one, passed by their hideout, and I managed to catch a glimpse of five Rogues tearing apart a dead guard in uniform. The first thing that hit me was the smell. The distinct combination of decay and fresh death. It was in the air like a bad perfume. Strangely enough, it was so fitting with the scene laid out in front of me. As they broke into the meat of the guard, the smell seemed to get stronger. I wasn’t able to eat meat for months. Even now, it still repulses me sometimes. Since then, armed deliveries have been made to the palace. But I will never forget. In fact, the whole scene is flashing in my mind now as Alpha Achilles opens a chest at the side of the seats. He pulls out a silver crossbow with a quiver of arrows. Beta Carlos opens the windows, and Alpha Achilles sticks his entire upper body out, firing the bow with unimaginable strength as the carriage moves faster. I didn’t want to look, but I turned around and stared through the back window. There are about a dozen Rogues running after us, snarling and biting and wandering just too close to the carriage. But one by one, the big black Rogues start to falter. The closest ones are hit directly in the eye, the silver arrow piercing right through their skulls and instantly killing them. Alpha Achilles continues to shoot them all down. As more of them topple, more Rogues start to back off. Eventually, the path behind us is clear. But the smell lingers in the air. “There’s more of them around,” I whisper, and Beta Carlos looks at me. “You’re right.” Alpha Achilles slides back into the carriage, slamming the window shut. He looks enraged. I can almost feel it emanating from him as he throws the bow and arrows back into the chest and kicks it back into place. He slides a map toward the coachman, who slows down for a few miles and then completely swerves in a different direction. I want to ask what’s wrong, but when even Beta Carlos looks wary, it’s best to be quiet. We sit in that awful silence for a couple more moments. The coachman is really pushing it, whipping the horses more and more frequently. But since we changed routes, we arrive at the meeting after three hours. The big iron gates open for us, and I see the gigantic wall surrounding the pack. The pack mansion looms into view. Men in black uniforms are carrying silver weapons, staring at our carriage as it pulls up. We jump out of the carriage and run into the mansion, and standing in the foyer are the other Alphas. Alpha Tristan of the hosting pack, a brutish monster of a man with copper-colored hair and gray eyes, steps forward. “You’re late,” he spits out at Alpha Achilles. “We were expecting you more than an hour ago. Do you simply not respect anyone else’s time?” Alpha Achilles turns to Beta Carlos to sign his response and have him relay it. I’m about to step aside when I suddenly hear a voice in my mind, loud and clear: 'Tell him we had to find another route because of the Rogues around his pack.' My heart drops. I turn back around, and I realize that the exact thing I heard is what Beta Carlos is relaying to the group now. “Alpha Achilles wishes to inform everyone that we had to find another route, seeing as there were Rogues around the property.” I freeze. Did I just hear Alpha Achilles mind-link his words to me? I blink hard to shake off the possibility of hallucination, but nothing happens. I know I heard him. I know that was him. Alpha Tristan scoffs. “There are no Rogues here. We drove them all back. We killed all of them. One can even say that my pack is now safer than yours, Alpha Achilles.” Needless to say, Alpha Achilles does not take that well. He squares up against Alpha Tristan, his lips pulled back in a snarl. He motions something to Beta Carlos, who goes pale. He shakes his head, telling him that he can’t understand. But I can. I hear the voice in my head again. ‘You’re a liar. You didn’t kill a single Rogue. Your pack is in danger, and you’re too high up in your ass to admit it.’ I can understand Alpha Achilles. I can hear his voice when no one else can. “Well?” Alpha Tristan prompts. “What is he saying?” Beta Carlos still doesn’t understand, and Alpha Achilles is visibly frustrated now. The other Alphas are starting to whisper among themselves, obviously not pleased by this inconvenience. “What is he saying?” they keep asking, while Beta Carlos is red-faced, trying desperately to communicate. I know I should probably shut up. My job here in the first place is to assist in the meeting, a mere delivery girl for snacks and anything else that the Alphas might need. But I just can’t help seeing the helpless hint in Alpha Achilles’s eyes when no one can understand what he’s saying. So I step forward, relaying the words I just heard. “Alpha Achilles said that you’re a liar. The Rogues are alive, and you’re too arrogant to admit it.” The entire room goes silent. The Alphas are at a standstill, all looking at me with varying expressions of shock. The world seems to freeze for a moment as I slowly come to the realization that I messed up. “I’m so sorry,” I quickly amend. “I… I just heard the Alpha King—” “Heard?” Alpha Tristan echoes. “You heard him? He’s mute, you imbecile!” The other Alphas laugh. I lower my head, but as I do so, I catch sight of Alpha Achilles looking at me. His eyes are wide with shock, but I’m surprised to find just a tiny hint of fascination in there amid the rage. That minuscule drop of positive attention almost made me forget the heaviness of the words I just said for him, but the other Alphas didn’t. Especially Alpha Tristan. “Get this little bitch out of my sight,” he splutters. “If she dares to speak a single word, I will shut her up myself.” My heart stops. Beta Carlos approaches me as quick as lightning, ushering me back into the carriage. But then, Alpha Achilles steps in between us and grabs me by the arm. Once again, his voice rings in my head. ‘Touch her, and I will chop your head off.’ “What is this?” Alpha Tristan demands. “What’s he saying this time?” Beta Carlos swallows hard. “He wishes to say that if you touch the girl, he will chop your head off.” I thought that the silence earlier was bad enough, but this time it ends up being inexplicably worse. It’s the silence that makes it feel like the walls are closing in on me, suffocating me. I can almost hear the snow falling outside, gathering on the windows. The Alphas are now looking at me with expressions I can’t read, and I feel like it would be better if they just glared at me. Alpha Achilles pushes me behind him, standing in front of me protectively. His scent immediately invades my senses, and I have to consciously make an effort to focus as I hear his voice. 'If you really can hear me, then you can be of use,' he says, and even though his tone is neutral, even cold, I find myself eager to help. 'Tell Tristan that his pride won’t erase the fact that Rogues are present around his pack, and they need to be dealt with. Tell him to stop being a pussy and do something about it.' The bluntness of those words makes me gasp out loud. “I have to tell him that?” “Tell me what?” Alpha Tristan demands. “Speak for him, if that is what he wishes to do!” “Speak!” the other Alphas urge me, and I look at Alpha Achilles helplessly. “He says that your pride, Alpha Tristan,” I begin nervously, “won’t erase the fact that Rogues are present around your pack and they need to be dealt with.” I pause, swallowing hard. “And you should stop being a pussy and do something about it.” Saying that was like dropping a bomb. The Alphas suddenly rush forward, complaining about the words as though they came from me. “Respectfully,” Alpha Tristan growls, “get out of my pack.” Alpha Achilles smirks, but he starts to walk away, keeping me away from Alpha Tristan. Beta Carlos looks like he wants to protest, but it’s over. The meeting didn’t happen not because we were late, but because no one wanted to listen. However, before we can even make it through the door, loud sirens begin to ring inside the meeting room, echoing in the halls and in the whole pack. Alpha Tristan freezes. “We are under attack.” $Chapter Chapter 3 ACHILLES. The strong vibrations on the ground tell me that the sirens are still ringing. I know that Tristan told me to leave, and a part of me wants to make good on this so he would learn his lesson, but I refuse to put any of his people in danger just because their leader can’t swallow his pride. Instead of leaving with Claudia and Carlos, I beckoned the Alphas to come forward and fight. Thankfully, they don’t question me this time. Even Tristan marches out with them, not bothering to look at me. “What are we going to do, Alpha?” Carlos asks. 'We are going to fight,' I tell him through signing. 'The Rogues must be in their borders now, and we can’t let them get in. You and I are going to get out there, fight them from the outside, and stop them from breaking through.' Carlos nods, and I finally turn to Claudia. 'You stay here. No matter what happens, don’t leave.' “But….” she starts to protest, but then she swallows hard and relents. “I will.” With that, Carlos and I leave the room, shifting into our Wolf forms as soon as we hit the fields outside the pack mansion. Thick snow is now covering the ground, with more raining down from the slate blue sky. Light fog is shrouding the land, making the lifeless trees look like cruel thin hands thrust into the sky, but I can still see the battle going on in the distance. The Alphas and the patrol guards are keeping the Rogues at bay, because the stone walls that surround the pack are now chipped and damaged on one side, providing a point of entry for the enemy. Carlos and I leap across another section of the wall, landing on the thick forest outside the pack. It’s a lot darker here, colder, but the near absence of anything makes me feel strangely more connected. Even when the first line of Rogues sees us and starts to attack, I find myself fighting back seamlessly. I push back the Rogues trying to tackle me, swatting them with my paws and crushing them under. The thing about Rogues is their number. That’s how they succeed in taking over the packs since they started their revolution two years ago. As the Alpha King, I tried peace talks with them. I tried to hear their demands and find a middle ground, but they were never open to that. They just attacked mindlessly in the hopes of weakening us enough to submit. However, they are weak. If their necks get bitten, or if their chests get damaged, they’re basically as good as dead. So that’s what I do know. Every time they charge, I pin them to the ground and crush their ribs under my paws. I bite the others, always aiming for their necks. Their smell is thick in the air, making it easy for me to sense where they are and where they’re coming next even though I can’t hear them. Once their blood is shed, they freeze on the ground, unmoving and unable to attack again. But more and more of them are coming. Still, I’m in my element, and I know that I can take them all down. It took years for me to become confident in fighting again. Since that Rogue attack when I was twelve, I’ve grown fearful and limited. When I found out that I lost my voice and my hearing, it felt like my life ended. All the things I used to love doing became looming monsters that I had to overcome. My father was the one who came to my rescue. He taught me how to fight again, to use my other senses to make up for the fact that I can’t call for backup, I can’t command anyone, and I can’t hear what’s going on around me. And I have gotten good. So good in fact that I could take down troops of Rogues all by myself. I gained the respect of the other Alphas because of it too. But what happened today reminds me that even after this adjustment, I’m still as limited as before. When Carlos couldn’t understand me, I felt as small and as voiceless as I did eighteen years ago. The only thing that saved me from sinking low was Claudia. I still don’t know how she did it. I still don’t know how or why I hear her voice in my head, melodious and clear and refreshing, after years of not being able to hear anything else. It’s like her presence pierced through every weakness I have and made it her own, alleviated it, allowed me room to breathe. And now I feel like I have to be close to her. More Rogues attack, trying to crowd around me to limit my movements. I push all of them back, keeping them in front of me where I can see them and rounding them all up until they fall into crumpled heaps under my feet. I’m winning. Adrenaline is rushing through my veins like a drug, and I’m getting high just off the thought of another victory. I begin to move faster, breaking through their ranks until the others are too afraid to approach. It feels like I have no disability at all…. Until I feel a familiar whoosh of energy behind my back. I turn around just in time. I see a Rogue flying midair with its teeth bared and ready to bite. I freeze, petrified at how close it is and how I didn’t sense it. And that’s my biggest mistake of the night. Seemingly out of nowhere, Carlos swerves into view and wedges himself between me and the Rogue, taking the bite that was supposed to be for me. Only when the Rogue tackles him down do I remember to move. I claw at it, scratching its face and leaving long and deep gashes. It backs away with a whimper, but it’s too late. The damage is done. Time seems to slow down, to stop, even. Blood pools around Carlos’s neck like a halo. “Alpha…” I see his mouth move. His eyes are becoming unfocused, and I can almost feel him panting in pain. “Alpha, go back to the mansion.” I shake my head. I make my way towards him, stumbling, but the vibrations on the ground suggest that the battle is still going. My vision is blurred now. All I can see is the blood. All of my senses have shut down, so much so that I don’t feel the Rogues crowding around us until I catch their scent. They’re coming at me from all sides now, and all I can do is push them away from Carlos. My heart is frozen in my chest in fear. Every second that passes feels like a missed opportunity to get him the help he needs. I keep pushing the Rogues back, but my concentration is gone. The fact that I can’t hear or call for help is catching up to me. I get scratches all across my arms, my chest, my face…. Until their weight finally holds me down. I shift into my human form to avoid getting crushed, but I can’t protect Carlos anymore. I’m trying to pull him to his feet, but we’re stuck…. But then the Rogues start to scatter just as a sweet, warm scent invades my nostrils. I look up, and I find Claudia standing before us, driving the Rogues back. $Chapter Chapter 4 ACHILLES. Claudia shifts into a beautiful bronze-colored wolf, breaking through the group of Rogues and scattering them. This time, they don’t return or retaliate. They just scamper away. With that, she reverts back to her human form and starts to lead me and Carlos away from the battle. I don’t know how she did it, but she somehow gets us out of there and back into the front of the mansion. Perhaps I’m just reeling from what happened. Perhaps I’m just being thick. Either way, when I come back down to earth, I see that she’s already propping Carlos against one of the columns, tearing off the hem of her skirt to stem the flow of blood in his neck. Only when I see her whispering to him do I realize what exactly happened. She… saved both of us. After I told her to stay inside the meeting room no matter what. The first emotion that floods my chest is anger. She didn’t follow my command. She just went ahead and did what she wanted. But the next thing that follows that wave of rage is something I’m not ready to acknowledge: appreciation. A rush of affection. Disbelief that she came to my aid when I needed it the most and most likely single-handedly saved Carlos’s life when I wasn’t capable of doing so. Still, the first thing that I think of saying is, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Unsurprisingly, she hears it. She wheels around on me with indignation on her face. “You told me you needed my help. So I fought off the guards to save you. What I deserve right now is a thank you, not whatever this is.” I get up and try to reason with her, but then I see a big shadow looming over us. Claudia suddenly sinks into her knees for a bow. I turn around and see Alpha Tristan, covered in Rogue blood. His eyes find Claudia, flashing with an expression I can’t read. But when he looks at me, what he feels is clear enough, and that is pure and utter distaste. The battle seems to be over, and there are a couple of wounded Alphas and patrol guards being assisted into the mansion. I try to get up and help, but Tristan puts a hand on my chest despite me being half a foot taller than him, stopping me with a glare. “Don’t even dare,” he mutters. “I am tired of your selfishness. I am tired of the absolute disrespect you show to our people. For the past two years since this revolution started, you have approached this with only yourself and your pack in mind. What about us? What about the other people who are suffering, the ones who are much, much lower in rank?” I can’t hear his voice, but I can read his lips, and every single thing he says hits me like a punch in the gut. I want to say something. I want to tell him that it was not like that, that it was never like that at all. I have kept every single citizen in his land in mind whenever I charged for battle. That’s why I preferred to have an active role instead of doling out commands. However, I can’t help but feel a sting of truth behind his words. In a lot of ways, he’s right. The only fighting strategy I know is fighting alone or with Carlos. That’s not always going to work. Like tonight. I took him away from the main event of the fight and encouraged him to fight on the sidelines with me. And look where that got him. Wounded and broken, trying to protect me from a threat I didn’t hear expect because I couldn’t hear anything. Suddenly, the old shame of being deaf and mute comes back. I have spent years trying my best to be okay with my condition, and I have come to a point where I thought I was making the most of my abilities. I never thought I would be thrust back into feeling like none of the growth I made mattered. Around us, the wounded Alphas and Betas get visited by healers, carefully urged back into the safety and warmth of the mansion. I can’t bear to even look at them. I feel like everything is my fault. Tristan for sure feels like it is. He walks around me like I’m just his disobedient child. “Leaving in the middle of battle is a disgrace. You are the Alpha King, and you should act like it. The safety of our people should always come before yours or anyone close to you. What you did—” “Pardon, Alpha Tristan,” Claudia suddenly says. Tristan looks at her like he wants to take her head off and throw it across the mountains, and all my instincts rise into protective mode. I try to get in between them, but Claudia stands in front of Tristan and squares up against him. I can tell that she’s scared. She keeps kneading her hands, which are still slick with Carlos’s blood. Her breathing is uneven, and I can tell that she would rather hide, but for some reason, she’s facing him in this strange challenge. “You’re interrupting me again,” he notes in disbelief before glaring at me. “You should train this pet of yours.” I make a move to push him, but Claudia catches my arm and shoves me back. “Alpha Tristan, it was me who took them back to the mansion. It’s not right for you to talk to the Alpha King this way, and—” 'Don’t do it,' I warn her. 'Don’t cross him.' Claudia doesn’t listen. “What you’re doing is disrespectful. No one is gravely hurt, and we should be glad that--” “Out,” Tristan interjects. “Get out of my pack, and never show yourselves ever again. I'm banning the Alpha King and anyone from his side from Moonlight Grove Pack.” She opens her mouth as though to protest, but I just grab her shoulder and pull her back as Tristan pushes past her and enters the mansion. Then, his guards start to close the doors, barring us from ever entering. She blinks hard as though she can’t believe it happened that way. She slowly faces me. “I’m sorry.” I don’t listen to her. I just beckon Carlos to follow me, and off we go back to our pack. The awkwardness inside the carriage back home is almost tangible, with the three of us facing each other. I can’t even look at Claudia. The disappointment and rage brewing inside me need a release. I know that part of it is my fault, but there is only one reason why we were kicked out and shut down just like that. 'Take him to the infirmary,' I sign to the guards as soon as we arrive, and they all guide Carlos up the stairs. When Carlos looks at me questioningly, I communicate to him, 'I will be here for a while.' Claudia tries to get up the stairs, but I hold my arm out and block her way. She looks up at me in fear, and I stand in front of her. “If this is about what happened….” she begins, but I shake my head to cut her off. 'I don’t know how you can hear me,' I say coldly, 'and I don’t know how I can hear you. It must be some kind of freak connection between us because we were close as kids, but those days are gone. You and I don’t mix anymore, and that’s how it should be. You have no business speaking for me. You have no business putting words in my mouth.' She swallows hard. “I only wanted to direct his anger at myself, not you.” That takes me a little aback, but I shake my head. My decision is already set. I look down at Claudia, holding her gaze. 'Once daylight sets in, I want you to leave the palace and find another home to serve. We are now parting ways.' $Chapter Chapter 5 CLAUDIA. My chest goes hard, as though my body is slowly turning into stone. I look up at Alpha Achilles, blinking rapidly and trying hard to focus despite the growing pain in my heart, desperately wishing I heard wrong. But Alpha Achilles just stares down at me. "I can't leave," I tell him, my lips barely moving. In fact, my face feels numb. "I... this is the only home I know." His face stays stoic. Unmoved. 'It doesn't matter. Moonlight Grove is the biggest pack next to ours, and I lost their loyalty.' I shake my head. "I did it for you. I spoke for you. When no one understood you, I did. And I made sure everyone else did too. The only reason I talked to Tristan is because I wanted him to punish me for taking you away. Why are you doing this to me?" I take a step closer to him, and he steps back, determined to keep the distance between us. Eventually, he turns away from me like he can't bear to look me in the eye. At first, I think that it's just because he can't stand to look at me, but the longer we stand here, the more I understand that it's because he doesn't want me to see something. "Tell me," I urge him. "What's the problem? You know it's not my fault." 'It doesn't matter,' he finally says. 'It has to end here. I'm sorry, Claudia.' The finality in his tone breaks what's remaining in my heart. My breath hitches in my throat and I find myself opening and closing my mouth, struggling to find the right words to tell him that I don't want to go, that I shouldn't. But nothing comes to mind. For the first time in my life, I don't know what to say. He turns around to leave, and every fiber of my being tells me to come after him. Maybe even to stop him. But my body is already frozen in place. The only thing I can do is watch him leave. He walks back to the palace, and I stand outside for I don't know how long. Snow rains down on me, flocking on my hair and my lashes. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, to be honest. Am I expecting him to come back and retract his words? Because a part of me definitely wishes he would. A bigger part of me knows he won’t. When I see a figure approaching, I immediately think that it's Alpha Achilles, coming back to take back what he said. It’s hard to see in the snow, so I try to meet him halfway. But it’s only Gamma Kiernan. His golden blond hair shimmers in the dim light as he peers at me. “Claudia? What are you doing out here in the cold? It’s the start of the Solstice Festival tomorrow, you should be preparing with the rest of the staff.” I almost say that I’ll be on it, but the only thing that comes out of my mouth is, “I don’t work for the pack anymore, Gamma. I am to leave tomorrow, as what’s ordered by Alpha Achilles.” “What?” His expression darkens. “We can’t afford to kick out more staff now, not with everyone leaving because of the revolution….” He holds up a hand. “I will talk to him. Just get inside.” I follow his order, but every step back to the maid’s quarters feels like a big hand digging into my insides and scooping everything out. By the time I get back to my room, I’m already empty. Empty enough to start packing everything I ever owned. * * * ACHILLES. Letting go of Claudia is the right choice. It has to be. I should have known that it wasn’t good news, the fact that she could hear me and I could hear her. The moment I felt that rush of affection for her when she tried to stand up to Tristan on my behalf, I knew that it would only be right to release her…. Or at least, this is what I keep saying to myself as I lay in bed, tossing and turning, staring at the moon through the window and replaying the moments of fascination and shame from tonight. I wish there was a way to erase them all. How long I lie there awake, I don’t know. But the only reason I finally fall asleep is because my body gives way to exhaustion. And soon, the dreams come. In my dream, I’m back beyond the borders of Moonlight Grove Pack. But this time, I’m alone. Carlos is not around. The Rogues aren’t present either. The only thing in front of me is a frozen lake, shining like a mirror under the dark sky. And standing in the middle of the lake is a beautiful woman with stark white hair and gray eyes. Her skin is so pale that it’s almost blue. Her dress is bright white, pearlescent and glowing, billowing in the air even in the absence of a breeze. It’s the Moon Goddess, and she’s staring at me. We haven’t communicated before. She hasn’t shown up in my dreams, but I’ve seen countless paintings of her before, and heard so many stories about her showing up in pivotal moments. Perhaps this is mine. My nerves jump, but I sink to my knees, my breath fogging up in front of me. “Rise, my child,” she says. Even though she’s a deity, I still can’t hear her voice. I can only read her lips. “Dark times are ahead, and they loom closer and closer to you with every second that passes. Just tonight, you have suffered a great loss.” I don’t get up. 'I have done my best. I protected the people—' “Exactly,” the Moon Goddess interjects, walking across the frozen lake with the water still moving underneath. Her feet aren’t touching the ice. “That was your victory tonight, even with the parting of your ally. Your loss came much later.” 'I’m afraid I don’t understand,' I sign to her. 'The battle ended there.' “No.” She stops right in front of me, reaching out to touch my cheek. “You wished to find a way to expand your limits, and I gave it to you. But you pushed it away.” I stare at her, trying to decode what she means. I desperately want to make sense of it, to not waste the valuable time I have with her, but nothing is clicking. “I put her on your path for a reason,” she continues. “And you wanted none of it.” Suddenly, the Moon Goddess’s face starts to change, morphing like molten wax until it forms a new set of features. A face that is all too familiar. Claudia. She starts to speak again, but this time, I hear her voice—Claudia’s voice—echoing in my head like a prophecy. “I am the Siren, the Alpha’s Voice, and I shall be heard.”	LEARN_MORE	https://cdn.joylitnovel.com/pages/aae98514-07be-4e	Joylit Novel	https://www.facebook.com/61550512629703/	402	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	cdn.joylitnovel.com	VIDEO		https://cdn.joylitnovel.com/pages/aae98514-07be-4ed9-91fd-7d3b91cd671e.html?p0=10n5m3ce&p1={{campaign.name}}&p2={{campaign.id}}&p3={{adset.name}}&p4={{adset.id}}&p5={{ad.name}}&p6={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/435922076_26020242234241797_2889841262972408798_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gPhVX_HTOLsQ7kNvgFmGBqB&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A4Z_GhOmcZPSpHArzedv9MI&oh=00_AYDeEX2P3YZ7N4-jp-5G3UHXd90RT71yU5KieOb82rJALA&oe=6701C936	PERSON_PROFILE	Joylit Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,349	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2062294}'	No	2024-09-30 19:15	active	1558		Thinking about selling your home in Tampa? Check out this reel where I chat with Calvin Hamilton, Serhant’s Social Media Director, about the unique advantages of hiring me and the Serhant team. From innovative marketing strategies to our strong local and national connections, we’ve got what it takes to make your home stand out and sell for top dollar. A bit about me: I’m Kelly Burchill, a real estate advisor with Serhant. Born and raised here in Tampa, I bring local expertise and a deep understanding of our market. I began my career at the renowned Smith & Associates, where I learned from the best and honed my skills to meet their high standards. After nine successful years at Smith, I strategically joined Serhant to offer my clients unparalleled exposure and exceptional service. About Serhant: Serhant is the most followed real estate company in the world, known for its innovative marketing strategies and extensive reach. Our listings receive maximum exposure, ensuring your home reaches the right buyers. With Serhant’s cutting-edge technology and global network, we are committed to delivering outstanding results for our sellers. Let’s get your home the attention it deserves! 🏠✨ 📲DM me for a FREE consultation. 👉🏼Follow me for all things Tampa & New York real estate. #tampa #floridarealtor #sellingtampabay #kellyburchill #serhant #tampabay #morethanhomes #tamparealtor #tamparealestate #floridaliving #floridarealestate #luxuryhomes #luxuryliving #buying #tampanative #realestate			Kelly Burchill Real Estate	https://www.facebook.com/KBurchillRealty/	559	1969-12-31 18:00			VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461791814_1070298788060585_7761814678952365054_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LtS-9UKEP58Q7kNvgGgnTHR&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A20GFn-xcUrRw0U6snd-YNx&oh=00_AYBLdgJTkD9qv4k3IsdWlhA_YJp6tOgig90trVgQpd9NWA&oe=67011D33	PERSON_PROFILE	Kelly Burchill Real Estate	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,144	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2061867}'	No	2024-09-30 19:12	active	1557	Born of Community Sweepstakes	Born of overcoming challenges and celebrating success. Enter the sweepstakes for a chance to be one of three winners a month!	SIGN_UP	http://fb.me/	Zoetis Beef	https://www.facebook.com/ZoetisBeef/	16,543	1969-12-31 18:00	Sign up	fb.me	IMAGE		http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/440085831_738115158482419_4665729485374667205_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pAZnWrR_HAEQ7kNvgHm5MVu&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AEM7Ff0W_xTI8SgPF4apovF&oh=00_AYBLnTizyjla8pnfm6M71Wwe4yjXGaJj08NGraUXcfgGJQ&oe=670111FF	PERSON_PROFILE	Zoetis Beef	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,063,253	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"is_bh_simple_request":false,"simple_request_ratio":1,"is_bh_selenium":false,"selenium_ratio":1,"ratio_threshold":0.8}'	Yes	2024-10-01 07:03	active	1561	Wireless Calling Ultraviolet-proof Sunglasses	🔥Wireless Calling Ultraviolet-proof Sunglasses for Summer, ✅HIFI Sound & HD Lens Headset Glasses Built-in Headphones, ✅Music Speaker, 😎BT Cool Tech Gadgets for Men Women, 🎁Back to School Gifts.	SHOP_NOW	https://www.handnoean.com/products/wireless-callin	Handnoean.	https://www.facebook.com/61553623431645/	920	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	www.handnoean.com	VIDEO		https://www.handnoean.com/products/wireless-calling-ultraviolet-proof-sunglasses	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/454261339_369929666139573_7297254628601870255_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1ZF_6--gk3EQ7kNvgGvbc1h&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Al9_AUU8hLYGmjdFp6z_zMI&oh=00_AYCeUt_jPHktkuw8dIHPuncHGsHbODAKB9P-fAewxTP_rA&oe=6701BB17	PERSON_PROFILE	Handnoean.	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,345	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-09-30 19:15	active	1558		the most beautiful nails, for her happiest day 🤍 #nailsnailsnails #nails #nailsgeneva #manucure #manucuregenève	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/nailsbykellly	Nails by Kelly	https://www.facebook.com/KellybyNails/	598	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	VIDEO		http://instagram.com/nailsbykellly	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461585396_8111497732294061_2742937713951849603_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gVifoFsrYnkQ7kNvgFPU0Yy&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A20GFn-xcUrRw0U6snd-YNx&oh=00_AYD5pWjpdmR0p9BUtErEuO_VZMTVs6zyqtDLjYZ2NwW27g&oe=67010ECD	PERSON_PROFILE	Nails by Kelly	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,120	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2061872}'	No	2024-09-30 19:12	active	1557		We are re-launching!! NO MELT MAKEUP BAGS ARE BACK! Follow and Like the Karsan Co Facebook Page to enter our GIVEAWAY!! Win a Christmas Gift, use it in your car, save some money!! #makeupbags #christmasgifts #halloweengifts #travelbag #cosmeticsbag			Karsan Co	https://www.facebook.com/61566262353620/	1	1969-12-31 18:00			VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461691336_459100339791155_5218632314997228587_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=jfcwMi62TD0Q7kNvgErril6&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AUeTE7E3neu6JoZsVE4dvOi&oh=00_AYDUTx6sxDMgT0MqUnjsvOzsiRl6_UfNUTW-RKTkJw8ckw&oe=6700FD0B	PERSON_PROFILE	Karsan Co	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,061,996	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2061979}'	Yes	2024-09-30 19:12	active	1557	Last Chance: Win our 1000 HP ZZ632 OBS Silverado	🚨Time is Running Out to Win Our Shop Truck! Take Home Our 1000 HP ZZ632 OBS Silverado + $5K Cash — Every $5 you spend gets you 1 automatic entry for your chance to WIN our giveaway! Limited time only. No purch req’d. See rules at www.motionraceworks.com. Ends 10/06/2024 at 11:59 PM CT.	SHOP_NOW	https://www.motionraceworks.com/	Motion Raceworks	https://www.facebook.com/MotionRaceworks/	177,319	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop Now	motionraceworks.com	DCO	Every $5 = 1 Entry	https://www.motionraceworks.com/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461770141_1137016617766616_3544852388399304532_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-n_-OYVeoeAQ7kNvgHt7i1v&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ACbwPdD5Ms1WgKpzq_FnNjJ&oh=00_AYC5YtaDa0bU6G4wQ1FBA_2KabWbJtQIWnW_uXQjr9XDwA&oe=67010EAA	PERSON_PROFILE	Motion Raceworks	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,063,724	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2063552}'	Yes	2024-10-01 07:03	active	1561	Preference 19	The possibilities are endless with a superyacht charter. No other holiday can compare, no other experience comes close.	LEARN_MORE	https://campaign.edmiston.com/charter/	EDMISTON - WORLD LEADERS IN YACHTING	https://www.facebook.com/edmiston/	8,723	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	campaign.edmiston.com	DCO	Start planning your charter.	https://campaign.edmiston.com/charter/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/432357478_1211314323177880_4325783941413280995_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pcNoSA7lEVIQ7kNvgFDkyPs&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AS0mN_vFSlcy3KDoKfj3OBN&oh=00_AYDrN7BcVFTjRFzmFN92onKoQ20ZL8NZPBNUBMuyIvgNhg&oe=6701A008	PERSON_PROFILE	EDMISTON - WORLD LEADERS IN YACHTING	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,063,247	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-10-01 07:03	active	1561	Smart Wireless Headphone Sunglasses	🕶2024 new bluetooth glasses make a grand debut! 😎Wireless Bluetooth connection,,allowing you to enjoy a free and unfettered world of music! Fashionable design, comfortable to wear.✨	SHOP_NOW	https://excellentk.com/products/sunglasses-4	Excellentk/3	https://www.facebook.com/100091803159680/	320	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	excellentk.com	VIDEO		https://excellentk.com/products/sunglasses-4	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/454528103_506032175173407_4302384032558607394_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=JhALYGWwiQsQ7kNvgHe2xXz&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Al9_AUU8hLYGmjdFp6z_zMI&oh=00_AYBv_JkCwWDMirsoM7fay4tiM3DqE57gQKTyS1I_xPlRkQ&oe=6701B938	PERSON_PROFILE	Excellentk/3	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,641	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2062586}'	Yes	2024-09-30 19:19	active	1559	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&u	Massive story	https://www.facebook.com/61560932294131/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	getokn.com	DCO		https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448731292_973317731140374_4061053005564536888_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=fAZKs3SO4H4Q7kNvgEcuFax&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AcSJS4pBpdBtU7l-x9lDNOE&oh=00_AYA_T0FeZKlwiIt6sDdDTkwEyjkAjBu7ZVa_XSuG7wwKHg&oe=670116CB	PERSON_PROFILE	Massive story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,115	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2062112}'	No	2024-09-30 19:12	active	1557	Thursday, October 3rd	AU Pro Volleyball kicks off this Thursday, Oct 3! Get there early to claim your AU cowbell 🏐🔔	LEARN_MORE	https://auprosports.com/volleyball/	Athletes Unlimited	https://www.facebook.com/AUProSports/	225,999	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	auprosports.com	DCO	Tickets On Sale Now!	https://auprosports.com/volleyball/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461516053_872297441662020_3755017671614067230_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Mi6cE8_KAiwQ7kNvgFABCoP&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A0IxM3_iEwuK1mMAeGfyPn4&oh=00_AYD6RhXS0NMgiPxo2nSewWjW2xBuBjLppgO9INgbkAmNWg&oe=670127D8	PERSON_PROFILE	Athletes Unlimited	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,063,076	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-10-01 07:03	active	1561	Smart Wireless Headphone Sunglasses	🕶2024 new bluetooth glasses make a grand debut! 😎Wireless Bluetooth connection,,allowing you to enjoy a free and unfettered world of music! Fashionable design, comfortable to wear.✨	SHOP_NOW	http://mobilizek.com/products/sunglasses-4-1	Mobilizek.com	https://www.facebook.com/100089564721179/	271	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	mobilizek.com	VIDEO		http://mobilizek.com/products/sunglasses-4-1	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461090442_1069516240703803_1080638085773909459_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CkPoAjKSLtUQ7kNvgG9EfhJ&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Afqf6iAGaF7Pig9FnuxpjUB&oh=00_AYDlmVVDm_JOHjMvHtl_cYoA04k1DeMM6AfqPod_hqjulw&oe=6701CE87	PERSON_PROFILE	Mobilizek.com	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,333	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2062332}'	No	2024-09-30 19:15	active	1558	Continue Watching👉👉	Betty has to work two jobs for her mom. She is both a stripper and a hotel cleaner. One night, Marcus, the infamous mob boss, enters Betty’s club, hoping to regain his “man power”. Every woman is a disappointment, except for Betty. He falls for her instantly, not knowing that Betty’s friend, Anthony, is also willing to sacrifice everything for her. A choice had to be made. An overly domineering mobster or an innocent scion. Who would she choose?	WATCH_MORE	https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/27904.html?la	DramaBox-Movies and drama	https://www.facebook.com/61554338662625/	311,877	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more	fb.dramabox.com	VIDEO		https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/27904.html?language=en&timestamp=1726494317292&channelCode=DAENF1009809&bid=41000105806&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&ad_group_name={{adset.name}}&ad_group_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461683819_3393069364170487_2041524256459410859_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1IaPOingSbcQ7kNvgExsBip&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AUoimE3R5Fl9KfYOCzHQjnh&oh=00_AYB59n1vpoSQ4ws5SnAuBVm76e3iA4PvU85AlgK3fBdctg&oe=6701295F	PERSON_PROFILE	DramaBox-Movies and drama	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,061,979	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-09-30 19:12	active	1557	Last Chance: Win our 1000 HP ZZ632 OBS Silverado	🚨Time is Running Out to Win Our Shop Truck! Take Home Our 1000 HP ZZ632 OBS Silverado + $5K Cash — Every $5 you spend gets you 1 automatic entry for your chance to WIN our giveaway! Limited time only. No purch req’d. See rules at www.motionraceworks.com. Ends 10/06/2024 at 11:59 PM CT.	SHOP_NOW	https://www.motionraceworks.com/	Motion Raceworks	https://www.facebook.com/MotionRaceworks/	177,319	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop Now	motionraceworks.com	DCO	Every $5 = 1 Entry	https://www.motionraceworks.com/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461639180_523430810441039_7094663221938932768_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XYksqZxhUsQQ7kNvgFDCsWX&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AYsNtWvTJM2DWlhJTSb0aZe&oh=00_AYCjHJVEePiLnJTx1rE9uljjr2HU9UmGvht2V0K9xsrT3g&oe=67011B8B	PERSON_PROFILE	Motion Raceworks	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,795	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2062815}'	No	2024-09-30 19:22	active	1560	😍Read the next chapters👉	At Grace Mansion, the lanterns in the corridors cast intricate shadows on the window frames, resembling beasts looming on the walls. Carissa Sinclair sat on a chair with her hands folded in her lap, her slender body hidden beneath plain clothes. She looked at the man before her—her husband whom she had spent a year waiting for. Barrett Warren was still wearing his slightly-worn battle armor. Standing under the dim light, he looked commanding and handsome. His face showed a mix of determination and a touch of regret. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for this marriage. Aurora will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has said that General Yates is a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife and equal to you." "Calling her that doesn't change anything. Ultimately, she’s really just a concubine in disguise," Carissa replied, remaining indifferent. Barrett frowned. "What does it matter? Aurora and I developed feelings for each other on the battlefield. We earned this marriage through our achievements. I don’t need your approval." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Developed feelings, huh? Do you remember what you said to me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett had left to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before leaving, he had lifted his wife’s veil and promised her, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Feeling awkward, Barrett turned away. "Forget what I said. When I married you, I didn’t understand love. I thought you were a suitable match for a wife until I met Rory." Talking about the woman he loved, his eyes softened and filled with deep affection. He turned back to Carissa and added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply. I hope you'll agree to this." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite feeling a mix of disgust and unwillingness, she still asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict. Besides, Aurora is straightforward, cheerful, and lovable. She visited my mother a while ago." They agreed? Hah... How ironic! Everything Carissa had done over the past year had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting her brow. Barrett spoke of Aurora Yates with a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother. She’s made her very happy. Even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was seriously ill. I brought in the best physician to treat her. I managed the estate’s affairs by day and stayed up nights by her bedside. It was only because of this that her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was stating the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa pressed her lips into a thin line as she blinked away the tears in her eyes and sharpened her gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need for that. Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. She’s a general, and she's above the usual household squabbles. She wouldn’t want to meet you," Barrett refused instantly. Carissa retorted, "What kind of women do I know? What kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of a noble family. My father and my six brothers died on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "But you're a delicate woman suited for the comforts of home. Aurora has no respect for such women. She’s straightforward and unrestrained. If she meets you, she might say things you won’t like. Why put yourself through that?" As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under the corner of her eye became more evident in the light. She calmly said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. Understanding the bigger picture and acting with dignity are essential virtues for any matriarch. Don't you trust me?" Chapter 2 Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? There was a royal edict for this marriage. Even when Aurora moves in, you’ll be in separate wings. She won’t compete with you for control of the household. She doesn’t care about those things.” “Do you really think I’m attached to managing this household?” Carissa countered. Running this mansion was no easy task. Just the monthly medicine for Barrett’s mother cost dozens of silver coins. Then, there was food, clothing, and social obligations—all these things required money. This household was practically a hollow shell. Over the past year, Carissa had used much of her dowry to keep things running. And this was her reward. “Enough, I won’t argue with you. I just needed to inform you. Whether you agree or not changes nothing,” said Barrett, his patience wearing thin. As Carissa watched him leave in a huff, she felt even more bitter. “My lady, my lord was too much!” said Lulu, Carissa’s maid, wiping her tears away. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, why would we stay in this house any longer?” Lulu held her forehead and gasped. “But your mother arranged this marriage, and your father wanted you to marry and have children.” Tears finally welled up in Carissa’s eyes at the mention of her parents. Her father had stayed loyal to her mother, never taking a concubine. They had six sons and one daughter. All her brothers followed her father to the battlefield. Three years ago, none returned from the Southern Frontier. Though she was a girl, Carissa came from a family of warriors and started training as a child. At the age of seven, she was sent to study under a master, where she also learned military strategy. When she returned home at fifteen, she learned her father and brothers had died a year earlier. Her mother, who had gone blind from crying too much, held Carissa close and said, "You must live like the noble girls in the kingdom. Find a good husband, marry, have children, and lead a peaceful life. You’re the only child I have left.” Carissa felt like someone had gouged her heart out. The pain she felt was so intense she couldn't even bring herself to cry. Determined to please her mother, she spent a year mastering the traditional values and duties expected of a noblewoman. She also learned accounting and how to manage a household. Not only was Carissa the Marquis of Northwatch's daughter, but she was also known for her beauty. So, suitors flooded their doorstep. Her mother had chosen Barrett because he had sworn he would never take another wife if he married Carissa. But six months ago, tragedy struck. All the residents of Northwatch Estate were murdered. No one was spared, not even the children or servants. Each victim suffered numerous knife wounds, and their bodies were brutally dismembered. Carissa’s youngest nephew had been only two and a half years old, born after the death of her third brother. The local authorities and garrison unit captured a few of the assailants. After further investigation, they were discovered to be spies from an enemy kingdom, Westhaven. The war at the front line was raging, yet these spies didn't hesitate to reveal themselves just to annihilate her family. The manner of the murder suggested it was more of a personal vengeance than anything else. When Carissa received the news, she rushed home, only to find her grandmother’s and mother’s gruesomely dismembered bodies. Blood stained every corner of the residence, and the dead were left in agonizing states. Now, Carissa was the lone survivor of the marquis' family. The idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. They saw her merely as a delicate, fragile woman. However, Aurora was different. She had earned military merits for her contribution to the war and became the first female general in history. Even the queen dowager had high praise for her. With Aurora supporting Barrett, his future would be more secure. That was the reason the Warren family readily agreed to the marriage. Chapter 3 Lulu brought over the dowry list and explained, "This year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins to support the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." Carissa glanced at the list. "Alright." Just looking at the list put her in a melancholy mood. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she would suffer hardships in her husband's home. "My lady, where can we go? Are we returning to Northwatch Estate? Or should we go back to Meadow Ridge?" Lulu asked, looking distressed. Images of the bloodstained estate and the tragic deaths of her family members flashed through Carissa’s mind, causing a sudden pang of pain in her heart. "Anywhere is better than staying here." "If you leave, you’ll be giving them exactly what they want." "So be it. If I stay, I’ll spend my whole life suffering as I watch those two be affectionate. Lulu, I must live well to give my parents and brothers peace in the afterlife," Carissa replied calmly. "My lady!" Lulu wept bitterly. She had been born and raised in Northwatch Estate. The murder had claimed the lives of everyone, including her own family. The images still haunted her, and returning there seemed unthinkable. "Is there no other way?" Lulu asked desperately. Carissa’s eyes grew cold. "There is. I could confront the king and use my family’s achievements to force him to reverse his edict. If he refuses, I’ll take my own life in protest." Lulu was terrified and immediately protested, "My lady, you can't!" Carissa’s expression softened, and a sly smile appeared on her face. "Do you think I’m that silly? If I manage to reach the king, I’ll only request an edict for an amicable divorce." Barrett was able to marry Aurora because of a royal edict. So, Carissa should also be issued an official edict to leave. She shouldn't have to sneak away like she was being cast out. The wealth from Northwatch Estate was more than enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life. She wouldn't degrade herself unnecessarily. Just then, someone called from outside, "Madam Carissa, the matriarch has requested your presence!" "It’s Jade, Madam Rebecca's maid. It seems like Madam Rebecca wants to try and persuade you," Lulu whispered. Carissa straightened up, her expression serious. "Then, let’s go." The evening sun glowed like blood, and the autumn wind was chilly. The late king had bestowed the Warren family's current residence, Valor Estate, upon Barrett's grandfather. Though once prestigious, it had fallen into decline. Most of the Warren family's men were warriors who fought on battlefields. Only a few were civil servants who worked in the palace. Barrett’s father, Jonathan, didn’t fare well in his official career. His second uncle, Gregory, only held a minor post in the Royal Citadel. Barrett and his eldest brother, Benjamin, were somewhat successful in the military. But before their recent victory, they were only fourth-ranked majors. Both families still lived together in Valor Estate. Splitting the family would only hasten their decline. Accompanied by Lulu, Carissa arrived at Rebecca’s room. Rebecca's complexion looked a bit better, and she was sitting up in bed. She smiled warmly when she saw Carissa. "You’re here." Benjamin and his wife, Amelia Morgan, were also in the room. Barrett's sister, Serena, and the other children of the concubines were present as well. Barrett's second aunt, Charlotte Lewis, was also seated nearby. However, her expression was cold and somewhat disdainful. "Hello, Mother. Aunt Charlotte, Benjamin, Amelia," Carissa greeted them politely. "Carissa, come here." Rebecca gestured for her daughter-in-law to sit by her bedside. The older woman held Carissa's hand affectionately and happily said, "Now that Barrett is back, you have someone to rely on. This year has been so hard on you, especially with what happened to your family. You’re the only one left of the marquis' family. Fortunately, all of that is behind you now." Rebecca was shrewd. She made it clear that Carissa would need to depend on the Warren family in the future, since her family was gone. Carissa pulled her hand away and calmly said, "Mother, I heard you met General Yates today." Rebecca hadn’t expected Carissa to be so straightforward. Her smile froze for a moment before she replied, "Yes, I did. She’s rather rough around the edges and doesn’t compare to you in terms of looks." Carissa gazed at her mother-in-law steadily. "So, are you saying you don't like her?" Chapter 4 Rebecca forced a smile. "How can I decide that after meeting her only once? But since the king has arranged the marriage, it’s a done deal. In the future, she and Barrett will earn military merits together, while you manage the household and enjoy the benefits of their hard work. Isn’t that nice?" "Yes, I'm sure," Carissa replied with a smile. "But it’s quite unfair to make General Yates a concubine." Rebecca laughed. "You silly child, how could she be a concubine? The king’s edict makes her Barrett's legal wife. Also, she’s a military officer who holds an official rank. Officials can’t be concubines. She'll be a legal wife like you. There won't be any distinction between ranks for the two of you." "No distinction? Is there such a custom in our kingdom?" Carissa asked. Rebecca’s expression grew a bit colder. "Carissa, you’ve always been sensible. Now that you’ve married into our family, you should prioritize us. According to the Defense Minister, Aurora’s contributions in this battle were greater than Barrett’s. With you managing the household, they'll be able to work together as husband and wife and focus on their military service. In the future, they'll surely become famous generals like his grandfather." Carissa’s tone remained chilly as she said, "If they’re husband and wife, then I have no role here." "How can you say that? Aren’t you still in charge of the household?" countered Rebecca, displeased. "I only managed the household because Amelia was unwell. Now that she has recovered, she should resume her duties. I’ll go over the accounts tomorrow and hand everything back to her," Carissa replied. Amelia quickly interjected, "I’m still not fully recovered. Besides, everyone is satisfied with how you’ve been managing things. You should continue doing it." Carissa smiled mockingly. Everyone was satisfied because she had spent her own money to support them. Most of it went towards Rebecca’s medical expenses. Sebastian Dalton was a renowned physician, and his medicine was costly. Only a few could afford his services. Rebecca’s medicine cost over a hundred coins a month, amounting to more than a thousand coins a year. As for the other household expenses, Carissa occasionally subsidized them. For example, she would sometimes use fabrics and silks from her family’s business to make new clothes for everyone throughout the year. She didn’t mind it before, as she had really wished to spend her life with Barrett. However, circumstances had changed. She no longer wanted to be a fool. Carissa stood up and said, "That’s settled, then. I’ll hand over the accounts tomorrow and won’t be involved in household matters anymore." "Stop right there!" Rebecca's face darkened with anger. "Carissa, you’re being unreasonable. Men having multiple wives and concubines is normal. If you can't accept that, people will say you're narrow-minded and jealous." Carissa’s compliance over the past year had made the Warren family think she was easy to manipulate. They believed a few harsh words would always keep her in line. Carissa’s expression was calm, a stark contrast to her usual docility. "People can say whatever they want. I'm not concerned about their opinions." Rebecca was so angry that she struggled to breathe and coughed harshly for a long while. In the past, Carissa would have rushed to help her. She would pat the older woman's back and try to soothe her. But now, Carissa remained where she was. The soft evening light from the doorway highlighted her delicate, almost ethereal beauty. "Carissa, look how badly you've upset Mom," Serena said as she stepped forward. Her round, youthful face puffed with anger as she glared at Carissa. "This isn’t even about you. Do you think your family is still as prestigious as it once was? Your parents and brothers are gone; you're the only one left. Aren't you afraid that Barrett will divorce you if you keep putting on airs like you're a young lady from a prestigious family?" Carissa looked at her sister-in-law, who was dressed in a pale yellow outfit that Carissa had procured for her in early autumn. Now, wearing the clothes Carissa had provided, Serena dared to question her authority. How utterly… unsensible of her. "Take off that dress you’re wearing before you try to lecture me," Carissa said coolly. Serena’s cheeks flushed with anger. "I didn’t beg you to get this dress for me. You can have it back if you don’t want me to have it." "Fine. And don’t forget the jewelry you’re wearing. I expect it all to be returned to me." After Carissa said that, her gaze swept across the room. The only one who seemed pleased with the situation was Charlotte. Everyone else looked grim. "If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving." With that, Carissa turned and walked out decisively. Chapter 5 The Warren family members exchanged puzzled glances. None expected the usually agreeable Carissa to stand her ground so firmly this time. She even defied Rebecca, the matriarch of the family! “She’ll come around. She doesn’t have any other choice,” Rebecca said coldly. That was true. With Carissa's family gone, she had no one to rely on except the Warren family. Besides, she was still Barrett's rightful wife, and it wasn’t like she had been mistreated. - Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu returned to Northwatch Estate. The estate was bleak and covered in fallen leaves. After just half a year of neglect, the courtyard was overgrown with weeds that were taller than a person. Stepping back into the estate, Carissa’s heart ached fiercely. Six months ago, she had collapsed upon hearing that her family had been murdered. She had wept when she saw the lifeless bodies of her grandmother and mother—their corpses cold and devoid of warmth. Every corner of the estate had been stained with blood. Memorial plaques for her ancestors and mother had been placed at the estate’s family chapel. Carissa and Lulu prepared flowers to place on the plaques, their tears unceasing. Carissa knelt before her parents’ memorials. Though her eyes were swollen from crying, they held a determined gaze. “Dad, Mom, if you can hear me from heaven, please forgive your daughter for what she is about to do. It’s not that I don’t want a peaceful life with a husband and children, but Barrett is not someone I can trust with my life. Rest assured, I promise Lulu and I will live well.” Lulu knelt beside her, sobbing uncontrollably. After they were done, they boarded a carriage and headed straight for the palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. Lulu was distressed and said, “My lady, the king might not see you. Maybe he thinks you’re here to oppose his edict about the marriage. You didn’t eat last night or have breakfast today. Are you holding up okay? Should I go get you something to eat?” “I’m not hungry.” The only thing Carissa felt was the unwavering resolve to dissolve her marriage and return home. “Please don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not worth getting sick over. Why don’t we just let it go? After all, you’re still the rightful wife and the lady of the Warren family. Even if General Yates is to be a legal wife, she’ll just be a glorified concubine at best. Maybe we should just endure it?” Lulu pleaded. Carissa’s gaze was cold. “Lulu, if you’re going to talk like that, don’t speak at all.” Lulu sighed, feeling lost and unsure of what else to do. She had hoped that once Barrett returned, Carissa would find some peace. But the situation had only worsened. - In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t see her. The edict has been issued, and I can’t take it back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have made significant contributions.” “If we speak of military achievements, the Marquis of Northwatch and General Sullivan’s contributions surpass all others,” Derek countered. Salvador remembered the Marquis of Northwatch, Hector Sinclair. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Carissa was a familiar face from those days, though she had been a delicate child. He still remembered her fair skin and endearing looks. Salvador had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers. When Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. Apart from his brother who was known as the Devil Monarch on the battlefield, the kingdom had no other capable generals. In the recent war with Westhaven, Dominic Sullivan’s third son had lost an arm. Dominic's seventh son had been murdered, though this had been kept secret. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants. I'll even give her a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” Chapter 6 Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Salvador remembered the Sinclair family. Knowing that Carissa was now the only one left stirred a feeling of pity in him. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "I have already issued the edict. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I implore you to issue another edict. I want to divorce General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "What? You want a divorce?" Salvador thought she had come to ask him to rescind the marriage edict. He never expected a plea for a divorce. Holding back tears, Carissa pleaded, "Your Majesty, General Warren and General Yates sought the marriage edict with their military achievements. "Today is the death anniversary of my father and brothers. I wish to seek an edict to divorce my husband based on my late family's military merits. Please, Your Majesty, I'm begging you." "Carissa, do you know what you'll face after the divorce?" Salvador asked, a complicated expression on his face. Carissa hadn't heard Salvador call her by name in a long time. When he was still the crown prince, he used to occasionally visit Northwatch Estate. He would always find some interesting little gifts to give her when he did. After Carissa later went to Meadow Ridge to study under her master, they never saw each other again. "I do," she affirmed. There was a hint of a smile on Carissa's stunning face. But no matter how one looked at it, the smile seemed tinged with irony. "I'm sure you know the saying that a true gentleman appreciates and helps others to fulfill their aspirations, right? Even though I'm not a gentleman, I don't want to hinder General Warren and General Yates from being together," Carissa added. "Carissa, there's no one left at Northwatch Estate. Are you really going to go back there? Have you thought about your future?" Salvador asked. "I returned to the estate today to visit my family's memorial plaques. Seeing how the estate has fallen into disrepair made me want to live there again. I'll adopt a son for my father's sake, so there will still be someone to honor his memory," Carissa explained. Salvador had thought she was being impulsive; he hadn't expected her to be so considerate. "You're Barrett's legal wife. Aurora can't undermine your position. You really don't need a divorce." Carissa looked up with tear-filled eyes that were firm with resolve. "Your Majesty, that's meaningless. I don't want to waste my life like this. I'm the only one left from the Marquis of Northwatch's' family. My father and brothers lived honorably and bravely throughout their lives. I don't want to settle for a life of mediocrity." "I know you have feelings for Barrett. Are you willing to let go?" Salvador asked. Feelings? Not really. Carissa simply admired military men, and her mother had wanted her to marry and lead a stable life. That was why she had agreed to the marriage. Carissa smiled. At this moment, she looked like a strong woman who would be able to flourish even in the most challenging circumstances. "If he can let go of me, then I can let go of him," she declared. Beneath her delicate appearance, she possessed an unyielding backbone. This stunned Salvador. He had never seen such a woman before. He felt a pang of confusion, remembering the carefree little girl who used to smile all day long. Now, she was married and soon to be abandoned. To the world, divorce still meant abandonment. This was especially true in Carissa’s situation, as Barrett had publicly sought the marriage edict. Being a woman was already difficult, and she would have it even harder. How would she negotiate future marriages? There was no one left in her family to do it for her. Thinking of this, Salvador recalled Hector's merits, especially how they had saved each other on the battlefield, and his heart softened towards Carissa. "Alright, I agree. You may leave now. In a few days, the edict of divorce will be sent to the general's residence," Salvador said. Carissa breathed a sigh of relief and bowed her head. "Thank you for your grace, Your Majesty!" As Salvador watched her, he was suddenly reminded of when she was a little girl, and his heart softened further. "Carissa, if anyone mistreats you in the future, come to the palace and see me." "Thank you, Your Majesty!" Carissa bowed once again.	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	138	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	shgjfh.com	DCO		https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/458293998_1696356974464897_6574490535769686259_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0wTQIW0jx94Q7kNvgFc42qS&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=APt3yg41Phn2oCHE89nGkld&oh=00_AYBj4PWZr5vrK_l06w5HR6s5D4rfb3S6p7xzoaRZR_lNmQ&oe=6701179F	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,935	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2062934}'	Yes	2024-09-30 19:22	active	1560	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	Chapter 1 "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled. The operating room reeked of blood. She had never seen so much blood before. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind. 'Who would suddenly take away A-type blood from the blood bank?' The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you wouldn't come to see me.' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. Her withered, frail body collapsed weakly on the bed. Debra felt exhausted. At just twenty-seven, she passed away because of postpartum hemorrhage in the hospital. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophie’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. It only lowered her status and self-esteem. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's taste is just terrible, preferring a skinny woman to his beautiful woman. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. He cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." Chapter2 Juan also looked over. A red figure stood out in the crowd. Debra, clad in a burgundy dress, seemed to captivate hearts with every gesture. Cameras flashed at her like she was a reigning superstar walking the red carpet. 'Debra?' Juan took a moment to recognize her. In the past, Debra preferred light makeup and plain dresses. This was the first time Juan had seen her like this. Seeing Debra for the first time, Shelia was filled with jealousy. Compared to the alluring Debra, she seemed too plain. "Debra looks stunning." Shelia's tone carried a subtle envy. Debra spotted them and walked over. Shelia thought Debra, unaware of her relationship with Juan, would be surprised or awkward, but Debra was poised and smiling. "Mrs. Nichols is here. Who's the lady beside Mr. Nichols?" whispered a reporter. Debra approached, linking her arm with Juan's, and extended a hand towards Shelia. "You must be Shelia mentioned by Juan. Nice to meet you! I'm Debra. You can call me Mrs. Nichols." Shelia withdrew her hand from Juan's and shook hands with Debra. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nichols," Shelia said awkwardly. "Juan told me that he sponsored you. You're going to study abroad, right?" Debra said. Shelia glanced at Juan. "Shelia excels in her studies. She's planning to go abroad this year, but she's a bit timid, so I brought her here today to broaden her horizons," Juan said. He had brought Shelia here to see the world of the upper class. Juan hadn't completely fallen for Shelia yet. It was only after Shelia returned from abroad that Juan fell in love with her. Even so, Juan attended all kinds of events with Shelia, to the point where everyone in Seamar City knew that Juan liked a college girl. But none of this mattered to Debra anymore. She came to the auction not to compete with Shelia but for a more important purpose. "Well then, take good care of Miss Miles. I'm going in," Debra said, letting go of Juan's arm. Juan was stunned. He hadn't expected these words to come from Debra's mouth. By the time he realized it, Debra had already get into the venue. Juan frowned. 'When did the unruly Debra become so agreeable?' Debra sat in an inconspicuous corner. The auction venue was filled with influential figures. If she remembered correctly, an abandoned piece of land that nobody wanted was bought by an obscure merchant at this auction. Later, because of the upscale developments around it, the land became valuable. The successful investment elevated the merchant's status, making him a commercial magnate. Since she had decided to leave Juan, Debra wanted to build up her own assets. After sitting down, Juan searched for Debra's figure. Beside him, Shelia asked, "Mr. Nichols, do you really want me to bid on your behalf?" Juan's attention returned, and he said, "Yes, I trust your judgment." Shelia blushed. She had studied finance for so long at school, just for this day. On the second floor, Debra watched them chat happily. Shelia indeed had some talent, which was one of the reasons why Juan would be attracted to her. In her last life, Shelia had once identified a prime piece of land, which impressed Juan. But that piece of land was valuable, to begin with. The Nichols Group's properties were around it, and Shelia inflated the price with Juan's money. In the end, the value of the land and the surrounding properties all increased, so Juan couldn't lose. Even without Shelia, Juan would have secured that piece of land. As the auction started, Shelia began to bid. She successfully won the first three prime pieces of land. Juan sat beside Shelia like a guardian. "The price of Crescent Manor starts at one billion." "Two billion." Debra's bidding caused a collective gasp. Juan frowned. What's gotten into this woman? Shelia whispered, "This piece of land isn't worth much. Debra's going to lose money." Juan texted Debra. [What are you doing?] Debra read the message and ignored it. "Two billion once!" "Two billion twice!" ... "Is Debra crazy? Two billion for this piece of junk?" On the second floor, Randy was flabbergasted. "Three billion," Marion bid. Randy nearly flipped the table. "Marion! Are you insane too?" Across from them, Debra frowned. She wanted to know who was crazy enough to compete with her for this wasteland, only to see Marion. She vaguely remembered Marion was doing gray business. 'When did he start real estate development?' "Four billion!" Debra raised the stakes. Downstairs, Juan furrowed his brow and texted her again. [Debra, shut up!] Debra simply turned off her phone. "Five billion," Marion said. His provocation annoyed Debra. 'Alright, you want to play? Let's play.' "Ten billion!" she bid. "What! She's gone mad!" Randy exclaimed. Juan stood up, losing his composure. He couldn't quite grasp Debra's intentions. To him, this piece of land wasn't even worth one billion. Yet Debra was offering ten billion. Marion smiled at Debra and made a gesture of concession. "Ten billion!" The auctioneer exclaimed, "Any further bids? Ten billion, going once, going twice. Sold!" As the gavel fell, a weight lifted off Debra's heart. The land was finally hers, but she had unnecessarily spent an extra eight billion. It was all because of Marion. She glared at him. Randy nudged Marion, "Hey, Debra's glaring at you. If I were her, I'd probably be plotting your demise." Marion shrugged indifferently. Downstairs, Shelia tugged at Juan. "Mr. Nichols, Debra is going to make you bankrupt." "She set her own price. No one will help her pay the bills," Juan said. Chapter 3 Due to this episode, Juan's attention was solely on Debra. Shelia's performance was completely ignored. When the auction ended, Debra was about to leave when she bumped into Juan and Shelia. "Debra, if you don't understand real estate, don't mess around," Juan said bluntly. Shelia chimed in, "Yeah, Debra. Your actions have cost Mr. Nichols ten billion." Debra chuckled, "Miss Miles, you misunderstand. This piece of land is mine to get. What does it have to do with Juan?" Shelia blurted out, "But that's ten billion." "It's just pocket change for me, not to mention for her." From not far away, Randy's voice came. "Isn't that right, Ms. Frazier?" Debra caught sight of Marion and said, "It's just a plaything for purchase." Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Ten billion meant nothing to Juan and Debra. In front of these people, Shelia felt inferior. "Heard Mr. Nichols got married. Is the lady beside him Mrs. Nichols?" Marion chimed in. Shelia blushed, stammering, "N-no." "This is my wife, Debra," Juan said, pulling Debra close. Debra tried to shake off Juan's hand, but he held on tight. Since earlier, he had felt Marion's gaze on Debra. Men understood men best. He could see through Marion's thoughts. "So, Ms. Frazier is Mrs. Nichols. It's my bad. I saw Mr. Nichols chatting with this lady in the venue earlier, thinking she was Mrs. Nichols." Randy slapped his head. "Then this lady must be Mr. Nichols's secretary. No wonder she was holding up signs for Mr. Nichols earlier." Debra almost burst out laughing. Though she didn't care about Shelia and Juan anymore, hearing Randy's words still made her pleased. Shelia was totally embarrassed. "Joe, take Shelia home," Juan requested. "Yes, sir," Joe agreed. Randy grinned, "We'll get out of your hair. Bye!" After Randy and Marion left, Debra shook off Juan's hand. "Had enough?" Juan didn't expect Debra to pull away. Before, Debra couldn't wait to touch him. She seemed different tonight. "If you're trying to get my attention, you don't need to do this," Juan said. Debra was speechless. She wanted to argue, but she couldn't find the right words. Considering how much she cared about Juan in the past, she might have done so. But she wasn't that person anymore. "Whatever!" Debra shrugged. "Wait." Juan stopped her. "What now?" "What's your relationship with Marion?" "I don't even know him." Juan spoke coldly. "No matter what your relationship is with him, you are Mrs. Nichols in public. You better watch your identity and keep your distance from other men." Debra scoffed, "Before you demand anything from others, how about demanding it from yourself? Did you consider your status and my reputation when you brought Shelia here today?" "I had Joe inform you today." "Oh? Is it to tell me not to come?" Juan remained silent. He knew he was in the wrong. "Even Marion, an outsider, mistook Shelia for Mrs. Nichols. If you like her, let's get a divorce," Debra said. "Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?" Juan frowned. Although he didn't love Debra, it didn't mean he wanted a divorce. Their marriage was based on interests. It was not something one person could dissolve. From Juan's serious expression, Debra could tell that he wasn't thinking of divorce now, but it was only because of her family. In a few years, when she became worthless, he would discard her like trash. Thinking of the miserable end of her last life, she'd rather end it now than wait for that moment. "I said, let's divorce." The next day, news of Debra's extravagant purchase of wasteland swept through major platforms. Debra was the sole heiress to the Frazier family, and ten billion was just a figure for her. However, with her family's businesses operating, she had limited liquid assets. It was not easy for her to raise the money. Debra lay on the bed, rubbing her brows. 'Should I find Juan? No.' He left without a word yesterday when she proposed a divorce. She couldn't understand. She was even willing to relinquish the Frazier family's wealth to him, yet he still didn't want a divorce. But besides Juan, who else could she turn to? Suddenly, Debra sat up. She had an idea. "Marion!" People in high society were in one circle. Debra managed to contact Marion through her connections. Debra remembered that Marion's influence was overseas, but in recent years, he had stationed himself in Seamar City. Others might not know why, but she did. In the coming years, Marion would rapidly take over local enterprises, competing head-to-head with Juan. In the conference room, Marion played with his lighter. Debra got straight to the point. "I want to borrow eight billion from you." Randy spat out his tea. He'd seen straightforward, but never this blunt. "Ms. Frazier, that's a large amount of money." Debra blinked. "Last time you said ten billion was nothing." "I just rolled the logs for you, and you're giving me a hard time." Randy shook his head. Beautiful women were always a bit sick in their heads. Marion flicked his lighter. "Why should I lend you any money?" "I could've secured Crescent Manor with two billion, but because of your meddling, I have to pay an extra." "Not a convincing reason." Debra fell silent for a moment before saying, "Your industries are all overseas, but for the past two years, you've been frequenting Seamar City. I guess you want to launder your overseas money here. Am I right?" Randy paused his tea-drinking motion, subconsciously glancing at Marion. He didn't expect Debra to understand these things. Chapter 4 The room fell silent for a moment. Marion smirked and said, "Mrs. Nichols, you can't wrongly accuse good people." "Yeah, we're all legitimate businessmen," Randy chimed in. "In the realm of legitimate business, it's not up to me to judge. But I think Juan might be interested," Debra said. "I'm just a clueless rich girl, while Juan isn't. If I tell him what happened, I wonder if he'll take notice." "You're sneaky!" Randy couldn't contain his frustration. Debra looked at Marion seriously. "Lend me eight billion, and I'll pay you back with interest in three years." Randy's eyes widened. "Are you kidding? Do you know how much interest that'll be? If you can't pay it back, we'll lose eight billion. You're Juan's wife. Who can hold you accountable?" "I know the interest. I'll sign a contract with you. If I can't repay, I'll give you my family's properties and stocks, and I'll work for you for the rest of my life." Randy paused and continued, "And besides, my marriage with Juan might not last three years. Even if I'm still his wife then, he won't protect me." Marion looked up and stared at Debra for a while. Randy's ears perked up as he smelled gossip. But he quickly composed himself. "No, I disagree!" But Marion agreed, "Okay, I'll lend it to you." "What?" Randy jumped up from his chair. "Have you gone mad?" "I'll have the finance department transfer the money to you. We'll draft the contract later," Marion said. "Marion!" Randy stomped his foot. "Thank you, Mr. Houston." Debra stood up, saying, "I'll await your message. Happy cooperation." She smiled and left the office. Randy ground his teeth. "That's eight billion! Are you out of your mind? She's Juan's wife! Why would you lend her money?" Marion grinned. "She's pretty." "Why should you get the girl while I pay?" Randy exclaimed. Marion stood up, tossed a bank card to Randy, and said, "I pursue the woman I fancy. It's only right that I foot the bill." "What? Foot the bill? She's Juan's wife! What bill are you talking about?" Randy ranted. Ignoring his protest, Marion walked out of the office. "Both of you are insane!" Randy muttered. Debra had just stepped into the Nichols family's mansion when she saw Juan sitting in the living room. She frowned. In her last life, Juan rarely came home. 'When did he become so attached to home?' Assuming he was just lounging around, she turned to go upstairs. "Debra!" Juan called out. Debra halted. "What is it?" Juan felt uneasy about Debra's recent coldness. "The auction house is pressing for payment." "I know," Debra replied coolly. "If you don't have enough money, you can tell me," Juan said. "No need. I've sorted it out," Debra said dismissively. "Where did you get the money from?" Ten billion wasn't a small amount, and Juan knew every movable asset under the Frazier family's name. She couldn't produce such a sum on short notice. "It's my business. You don't need to concern yourself," Debra replied. "Don't forget that I'm your husband," Juan said. Debra chuckled bitterly. 'Husband?' Juan always considered it a disgrace. When did he remember he was her husband? "You're so anxious because you're afraid I'll lose money and drag down the Nichols family," Debra said. Juan fell silent. Seeing his reaction, Debra knew that she had guessed right. "I won't drag you down. I understand our marriage is a business alliance. We rise and fall together. You don't have to come home often," Debra concluded. Juan was speechless. He used to think that way, so after getting married, he was cold towards Debra and didn't even touch her. But after hearing those words from Debra, he suddenly realized his excessiveness. Juan was about to say something when suddenly a remittance message came on Debra's phone. She didn't expect Marion's actions to be so fast. In just an hour, the money arrived. With the matter resolved, Debra gave a smile. Juan pursed his lips, suddenly remembering how Debra used to follow him. She showed him the same smile, but he never cared. "There's a party tonight. You're coming with me." "Me?" Debra frowned. Juan asked, "Don't want to?" "Why don't you bring Shelia with you?" Debra was puzzled. In her last life, whenever there was a banquet, Juan would take Shelia. If her memory served her right, it was an international banquet that night. She insisted on going, but Juan brought Shelia in the end, indirectly paving the way for Shelia. For such an important occasion, why would Juan suddenly think of bringing her? "You're my wife, so naturally, you should come to such occasions with me." Debra didn't get it, thinking it was only because Shelia had something else to do. Then again, she should go to such occasions more often. To start her own business, she needed connections. "Alright then, I'll go get ready." Juan breathed a sigh of relief. At least, Debra was still willing to be the nominal Mrs. Nichols. Perhaps she wasn't completely disappointed with him yet. Shelia was in the dormitory, arranging the dress sent by Juan's secretary. Her roommates looked at Shelia with envy. "Shelia, your boyfriend is so sweet, giving you such a beautiful dress." Shelia's cheeks turned rosy. "Shelia, when will you introduce us to your boyfriend?" "Yeah, your boyfriend is so rich, and he takes you to various banquets all the time. We're curious." Shelia shook her head and said, "He's very busy. I'll introduce you to him when he's available." Shelia's phone rang. Seeing that it was a call from Juan's secretary, she answered the phone happily. "Joe, did Mr. Nichols send you to pick me up? I'll come down right away," she said. "Mr. Nichols said you don't need to come today," said Joe. Chapter 5 Shelia's smile froze. "Why?" "Mr. Nichols is taking his wife tonight, so it wouldn't be convenient for you to attend." Shelia forced a smile. "Oh, so he's taking his wife. That's great. I didn't want to go anyway." "That's good." Shelia held her phone and bit her lip. Her roommates exchanged glances. "Shelia, did your boyfriend stand you up?" "I heard this event is international. Didn't your boyfriend organize it to introduce you to some foreign entrepreneurs?" Facing their skeptical looks, Shelia managed a weak smile. "He has an important client to accompany. I shouldn't disturb him." Shelia glanced at the dress in her hands, her expression dimming. 'Juan never likes Debra. Why did he suddenly...' She tightened her grip on the dress. She had looked forward to tonight's event for so long. She couldn't just give up. As the night fell, Juan had a splendid black dress sent to Debra. He had been waiting downstairs for a while when he saw Debra descending the stairs. Though he had seen Debra in a burgundy dress the other day, seeing her in this outfit still took Juan by surprise. He hadn't realized how beautiful Debra could be. "I'm ready," Debra said, lifting her head. Juan pursed his lips. "I'll have my secretary bring the car around." Debra opened the door to see Joe waiting outside. Seeing Debra in the black dress, Joe was amazed. "Mrs. Nichols, you look stunning in this dress, better than Miss Miles." Juan glanced at him. Joe realized his mistake and quickly shut his mouth. "It's okay." Debra didn't care, and she got into the car. Juan glared at Joe and muttered, "You won't get your bonus this month." Joe felt wronged but dared not say more. That was what he got for being too talkative. Outside the club, Juan helped Debra get out of the car. People around them cast admiring glances at them. "Who's the lady with Mr. Nichols?" "Seems to be Mrs. Nichols." "I don't recall seeing Mr. and Mrs. Nichols together before. They make quite the power couple." ... Juan took Debra's hand. Debra wanted to retract her hand, but with so many people around, she had to go along with Juan. Debra glanced around and saw many faces she had encountered in her last life. Juan had a certain prestige in the business world. To be able to attend such a high-level international event, the people here were all top entrepreneurs, philanthropists, or real estate tycoons. Debra had studied finance to impress Juan, but it never paid off. Suddenly, the sound of shattered glass grabbed everyone's attention. A gardener accidentally broke a vase of roses, and the manager scolded him. "Where did this old man come from? Get him out of here!" the manager barked. "Hold on." Debra stepped forward, picking up the roses from the ground. She noticed they were carefully pruned and rare. "This man ruined Mr. Houston's flowers and startled the guests. Let me have him removed," said the manager. "If it's broken, just ask him to prepare a new one," Debra said. "These roses were brought by Mr. Houston for everyone's enjoyment. How about each lady take one to appreciate his gesture?" Debra suggested. Everyone nodded, and the manager waved off the gardener. Juan stepped forward, lowering his voice. "I didn't expect you to liven up the atmosphere here." Debra shrugged. "Just trying to please Mr. Houston." Outside the club, Shelia stepped out of a taxi in a black dress, feeling strange gazes around her. She ignored them and tried to get into the club. The security guard glanced at the taxi and stopped her. "Miss, do you have an invitation?" Shelia was taken aback. She didn't know about invitations. With Juan, she could go anywhere. It was the first time she had been stopped by a security guard. "Sorry! No invitation, no entry." "I'm here to see Mr. Nichols. I'm his companion," Shelia lied. Squinting at her, the guard asked, "Mr. Nichols is already inside with Mrs. Nichols. Who are you?" Feeling the stares all around, Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Joe saw her and hurried over. "Excuse me, she's our company staff." The guard nodded, allowing Shelia through. Shelia breathed a sigh of relief, but Joe asked sternly, "Miss Miles, why are you here?" "I just wanted to broaden my horizons. Mr. Nichols always said I was too timid. I'll be going abroad in a few months, so I wanted to experience this kind of event. Joe, could you take me in?" Joe hesitated. "I'll return from studying and help Mr. Nichols. The piece of land Debra bought cost billions and was a loss. She probably doesn't understand finance. So many financial elites are here. I'm worried Mrs. Nichols won't be able to handle it," Shelia pleaded sincerely. Joe nodded in agreement. In the past, it was always Shelia by Juan's side because Debra knew nothing about finance, and Joe respected Shelia, who was talented in this area. Shelia joyfully entered the club and spotted Juan conversing with some guests not far away. She lifted the hem of her dress to run over, but she accidentally collided with an old man. The gardener's vase slipped, and the water splashed on Shelia's dress. She instinctively exclaimed and freaked out when she saw the stain. "What's wrong with you? Can't you watch where you're going?" Chapter 6 Her cry pierced through the room. All eyes, including Juan's and Debra's, turned to her. In their eyes, Shelia was a rude and uncultured woman. The old gardener bent down to pick up the scattered roses and apologized profusely. Feeling the stares around her, Shelia quickly changed her attitude. "I'm sorry. I was in haste. Are you okay, sir?" Debra watched from nearby. Even though Shelia tried to fix it, it only came off as insincere. Shelia also noticed Debra beside Juan. "How did she get here?" Juan frowned. Given his expression, he seemed clueless about Shelia's arrival. Debra wondered if Shelia came on her own. Debra stayed silent. This plot was different from that of her last life. Juan brought Shelia to the party, where Shelia impressed Caleb Houston. It led to a smooth path overseas and success after graduation with support from Juan and Caleb. Debra thought that Shelia would not show up this time. Yet here she was. "Mr. Nichols!" Hearing the commotion, Joe rushed in. Juan's tone was curt. "Who let her in?" "It was me." Joe bowed his head. "I thought Miss Miles could help you." Juan rubbed his temples. He used to be very tolerant of Shelia. But in this situation, Shelia shouldn't have appeared. "Miss Miles isn't familiar with the place. Go check on her," Debra said, taking a sip of champagne. Juan saw Shelia's scared looks, and he couldn't bear to leave her alone to handle the situation. "I'll be back in a moment." Debra said nothing. That was expected. He could never let go of Shelia. Juan went over and asked, "How did you come here?" Shelia lowered her head, looking pitiful. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see the event." Seeing her tear up, Juan couldn't bring himself to say anything harsh. In a sense, Shelia was trained by him, and he had seen all her efforts. "I'll have Joe take you back." Seeing Juan about to leave, Shelia hurriedly grabbed his sleeve. "Mr. Nichols, can I stay?" Juan frowned. In the past, Shelia was always obedient and aware of her identity, never crossing that boundary. Shelia felt his displeasure and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Nichols. I..." Juan relented in the end. "You can stay. This event could be helpful for your overseas studies." Shelia finally broke into a sweet smile. "Can I stay with you?" Juan glanced at the surrounding crowd, concerned about leaving Shelia alone here. "Yeah." Shelia was delighted. Joe couldn't help but ask, "Sir, what about Mrs. Nichols?" "Go accompany her. Don't let her cause trouble like last time." Juan knew that Debra often attended such events, but as someone unfamiliar with finance, she was here merely to pass the time. As long as she didn't cause trouble like last time, it was fine. Debra watched as Joe approached her. Before he could say anything, she asked, "He's gone to accompany Shelia?" "Miss Miles is a key candidate for the company, so..." "I understand." Debra looked as if she was not bothered at all. Joe breathed a sigh of relief. But somehow, he felt that Debra had changed. Shelia followed Juan and confidently conversed with some bigwigs, which was noticed by Debra. Although Shelia had good grades at school, she was still just a student. In front of these seasoned businessmen, what she said wasn't very insightful. They were only praising Shelia out of respect for Juan. However, soon Shelia faced difficulty with a foreign elderly gentleman. Debra recognized that man as a financial tycoon from Dawnreach. He only spoke his native language and didn't know any foreign languages. And his translator was absent. "Mr. Nichols..." Shelia bit her lip, glancing at Juan. Juan was pondering how to defuse the awkwardness when Debra approached and fluently conversed with the man. The man seemed quite pleased with what Debra said and shook hands with her. Shelia finally noticed Debra, dressed in an identical black dress. Compared to her, Debra seemed like a refined lady, while she looked like a street vendor. Shelia clenched her fists and forced a smile. "Debra, that's impressive. You can speak the Dawnreach language." Debra smiled without saying anything. Juan remembered that Debra could speak foreign languages, but Dawnreach language wasn't widely used. Not many people knew it, so he was surprised that Debra was fluent in it. "What did you say to Mr. Stephen? He seemed quite pleased," Shelia asked. "I told him that the piece of land he bought near the southeastern sea is going to get a good prince, so he's happy," Debra replied. "That piece of land will get a a good price?" Shelia looked puzzled. The land didn't seem extraordinary. "Maybe," Debra replied casually. In her last life, that piece of land did get a considerable sum. The area suddenly developed into a tourist destination, making a hefty profit from tourism. Mr. Stephen probably foresaw its development, hence his purchase. Shelia lacked that foresight. Juan stared at Debra, which made her uncomfortable. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Debra asked. "How did you know that the land would get a good price?" Juan said. Chapter 7 Given his expression, Juan knew that this plot of land would fetch a hefty sum. Yet he chose to let Stephen have it as a favor. That was just Juan's style. "I was just paying a compliment. You're reading too much into it," Debra replied. Juan furrowed his brow, assessing the sincerity of Debra's words. It made sense. Given Debra's intelligence, how could she see the future value of that land? Juan realized he was overthinking it. "Hope so." Juan turned away, leading Shelia to meet other people. Shelia glanced at Debra. Debra managed to capture the hint of triumph in Shelia's eyes. She downed a glass of champagne. In the eyes of others, she was just a failed woman abandoned by her husband. Her husband left her and took another woman to meet business partners. Could anything be more of a joke than this? Debra felt disheartened. She had planned to mingle with the business elites, but with Juan gone, it became difficult. How could she approach those entrepreneurs without seeming intentional? Debra scanned the surroundings and spotted a piano not far away. A smile played on Debra's lips as she got an idea. With graceful steps, Debra approached the piano and exchanged brief greetings with the pianist before sitting down. As the heiress to the Frazier family, she had to learn many things, though she never thought she'd use them. But now they had come in handy. It had been a while since Debra played the piano, so she was a bit rusty. But soon enough, the piano keys followed her fingers, producing a melodious tune that perfectly matched the atmosphere of the party. The guests were captivated by the unexpected piano music. Many turned to look in her direction, and after she finished playing, applause filled the room. Seeing Juan and the businessmen stop their conversation, Shelia kept her eyes on Debra and said, "Debra is amazing. She can play the piano." "She is a pro," Juan remarked casually. Among these people, many could play the piano, and passing relevant exams was quite common. The fact that Debra received so much applause showed her musical talent. It was then that Shelia realized the gap between her and Debra. She used to think Debra was just lucky and pretty, but utterly useless. Now she was proven wrong. She was dead wrong. After Debra finished playing, many wealthy ladies approached her for conversation. While she couldn't directly approach those business magnates, getting close to their wives made it easier to reach them. "I didn't expect Mrs. Nichols to be so talented at the piano," Randy remarked from a corner. "Not bad," Marion agreed. "You don't know music, do you?" Randy teased. "I don't, but I like it," Marion replied. He didn't understand music, but because it was Debra playing, it felt different. When she went to the restroom, Debra was pulled into a secluded corner. She tried to cry out, but the man behind her covered her mouth. "Don't make a sound," the man whispered. Feeling the warmth of his body, Debra adjusted her breathing and bit down on the man's hand. "Ouch!" he grunted in pain. "You bit me?" The man released her. Debra quickly put some distance between them and was surprised when she saw his face. "Marion?" "Who else did you think it would be?" "Why the cloak and dagger?" "I sneaked in. Don't want to be seen." "What kind of joke is this? Caleb is your..." Before Debra could finish her sentence, she immediately shut her mouth. Marion raised an eyebrow. "Hm? What were you going to say?" Debra averted her gaze. In her last life, Caleb left all his assets to Marion. It was only after that she found out the truth. But so far, no one knew Marion was Caleb's grandson. "I mean, Caleb is kind-hearted, and you're a dominant owner of overseas enterprises. Even if you snuck in, no one would dare say anything." "Maybe, but I prefer to play it safe," Marion said. "Don't tell me you snuck in here just to say these things to me." She didn't think Marion would be so boring. "This is for you." Marion handed Debra a contract. Debra looked down and saw the contract for her borrowing. "Just for this?" she asked. Marion nodded. "Boring!" Debra signed the contract and threw it back to Marion. It was crazy that he found her to sign the contract at the door of the ladies' room. "As your creditor, can I ask you a question?" "Go ahead." "Why spend ten billion on that land?" Marion's voice was low, tempting her to answer his question. "I can't tell you now," Debra said. "What if I insist?" Marion could tell Debra had other plans. But he couldn't figure out what could be worth ten billion there. It was a loss-making business, but Debra's actions made him believe the land would be worth far more than ten billion. "If I told you this land would be worth a lot in six months, would you believe me?" Debra asked. "No." Marion couldn't see any signs of it yet. "What if I said high-end properties around that wasteland are about to come into the market?" Debra asked. "What high-end properties?" Marion frowned. He had never heard of that. "You'll find out soon enough," Debra smiled, walking past Marion into the restroom. Frowning, Marion walked to the lobby, where Randy asked, "Done signing?" "Yeah," Marion said. "Why the long face?" Randy asked. "Is there any high-end property near the wasteland Debra bought?" "There aren't any." "Check who owns the land around that wasteland." "That wasteland is in the sewage area. There's nothing to check. Forget high-end properties. No one would even build a basketball court there," Randy said. "Sewage area?" Marion was surprised. Chapter 8 Moments later, Shelia emerged from the restroom, her face looking grim. She was now dressed in a white gown. "What's wrong?" Juan asked. "I just changed in the restroom and thought I saw Debra." "Debra?" Shelia nodded. "I saw Debra with that man. They seemed intimate." Shelia observed Juan's expression and quickly added, "But I might have been mistaken. How could Debra know someone like Marion? I heard he's a desperado." "Debra..." Juan's tone turned cold. He had noticed Marion's interest in Debra last time. 'Doesn't she know how to avoid danger? Even getting close to someone like Marion.' Juan felt upset. Debra emerged from the restroom and was puzzled about Juan's dissatisfaction. "Where did you go?" Juan whispered. "Me? I went to the restroom." Debra was confused. Shelia stepped forward, pretending to be affectionate, as she grabbed Debra's hand. "Debra, I saw it just now. Marion is not a good person. Don't let him deceive you." Debra instinctively withdrew her hand. Shelia's hand hung in mid-air, and she looked aggrieved. "I didn't tell Mr. Nichols about it on purpose, but Marion is really not a good person." "I know what kind of person Marion is. I don't need others to judge," Debra huffed. "I..." Shelia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Shelia is looking out for you. Don't be oblivious and offend the wrong people," Juan warned. Shelia tugged at Juan's sleeve, as if to imply he was being too harsh. If other people saw it, they might think that Shelia was Juan's wife. "In any case, it's best not to get close to Marion. You're a woman of high standing, while he's a man without upbringing. How could you have any ties with him?" Shelia said. Suddenly, the sound of a cane hitting the ground came. Everyone turned to see an elderly man with gray hair standing in the center of the hall. Debra turned around, feeling a sense of familiarity. Soon, she recognized the old man as the gardener who had been arranging vases in the hall earlier. Now, the old man was dressed in a suit, flanked by two bodyguards. His stern gaze carried a hint of ruthlessness, making people wary. "This is Mr. Caleb Houston," one of the bodyguards introduced. Everyone in the vicinity raised their glasses respectfully to the old man. Only Shelia was pale. The old man she had scolded just now turned out to be Caleb. Shortly after, Marion emerged from behind Caleb and stood by his side, supporting him. Debra suddenly had a bad feeling. Marion looked at Debra and slowly smirked. "Ladies and gentlemen, I invited you all here today to declare that Marion is my grandson, the sole heir of the Houston family." Caleb coldly glanced at Shelia. Shelia felt a chill. "He is not some wild man without upbringing," Caleb said. Everyone in the room was astonished, and Debra's heart was pounding. 'Something is not right. The timeline has changed. How could this happen?'	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	138	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	thebvhwysgng.com	DCO		https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/459414065_1057201542627188_2289658013715801775_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=47rMDhkNpg0Q7kNvgF4mJdx&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsuzYf3Idw5LioFAYR_1yPC&oh=00_AYAc1zr9txiQXzZkXWUtxdIpz3Xg5X1sEX56UNdVKoi3mA&oe=6701218E	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,030	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-09-30 19:12	active	1557		Enter today for a chance to win a $500 gift card to B&H Photo. ⁣⁣⁣ + Follow @peerspace ⁣⁣⁣ + Like this post⁠⁣⁣⁣ + Tag a friend ⁠⁣⁣⁣ Giveaway ends September 30th at 11:59AM PST. One winner will be selected at random and notified via DM via @peerspace.⁣⁣ No purchase necessary to enter or win. Entries are based upon instructions listed in the post. Entrants must be 18 years of age or over and a legal resident of the U.S. Winner will be randomly selected and contacted via IG DM. This giveaway is in no way sponsored, endorsed or administered by, or associated with Instagram or either B&H Photo or Meta. By entering, entrants release Meta and B&H Photo of any liability and agree to Meta’s and this Giveaway’s terms of use.	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/peerspace	Peerspace	https://www.facebook.com/peerspace/	56,823	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	IMAGE		http://instagram.com/peerspace	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461764581_755200790054848_6835529427570977496_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2wqDpvt2ALwQ7kNvgHccXjj&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AakFzBr_PLcf-0vo1IusjRT&oh=00_AYA0Am4EseNt7iE1aUNHa3wYU_YPUEYZ2bCJ4RxrA3IFWQ&oe=6701087C	PERSON_PROFILE	Peerspace	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,061,991	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-09-30 19:12	active	1557		WIN a FREE Gluten-Free Cookbook! Help us reach 100 followers and get the "How to Make Anything Gluten Free" Hardcover edition on the house! • Like this post • Follow our page • Share with friends & family Everyone who participates is entered in the giveaway! Let's do this!	LEARN_MORE	https://amzn.to/484iBCV	Against the Grain	https://www.facebook.com/AgainstTheGrainGlutenFreeLife/	7	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	amazon.com	IMAGE		https://amzn.to/484iBCV	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461782273_418762727906786_7812085230838527246_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=w_skOLST-R0Q7kNvgEIrnGB&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ACbwPdD5Ms1WgKpzq_FnNjJ&oh=00_AYA2KL1cC3XVTFCvcQgt0Hjf9sBZVs2LbAG8pmwWubLN4Q&oe=67010DC0	PERSON_PROFILE	Against the Grain	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,677	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-09-30 19:21	active	1560	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	20	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449688956_1121940968889821_4588828897944407849_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nOOVg9aBpu8Q7kNvgGg_zQT&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=APt3yg41Phn2oCHE89nGkld&oh=00_AYCQbu9-aqXmfpz_KGZSalWekviNy5yUzRSlB0rKSB62fg&oe=670114BB	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,062,232	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-09-30 19:13	active	1557	7 DAYS PROMOTIONAL GIVEAWAY - 500$ IN PRIZES	(Français plus bas) 7 DAYS PROMOTIONAL GIVEAWAY – 500$ IN PRIZES To celebrate Cascadia's release, I'm hosting a limited-time giveaway! Five lucky winners will receive prizes totaling $500. Here's how to enter (offer ends October 5th): 1. Buy a t-shirt from my website at https://www.samaelpelletier.com/store and follow me on Spotify, OR 2. Purchase the Cascadia CD from my website or at Friday’s album release concert in Edmundston. INCREASE YOUR CHANCE OF WINNING BY UP TO 4X! Sign up for my newsletter and get up to 4x more chances to win! Newsletter subscribers can re-enter the draw, even if they've already won, for up to four prizes (discography, music lesson, t-shirt, or tabs). Non-subscribers can only win once. (Newsletter will only be sent for important updates or exclusive content.) Anyone who completes purchases either options described above will automatically be entered in the draw. Deadline: October 5th, 11:59 PM. Don't miss out! OFFRE PROMOTIONEL D’UNE DURÉ DE 7 JOURS – 500$ EN PRIX À GAGNER Pour célébrer la sortie de Cascadia, je lance un concours limité dans le temps ! Cinq chanceux gagneront des prix d'une valeur totale de 500$. Voici comment participer (offre valable jusqu'au 5 octobre) : 1. Achetez un t-shirt sur mon site web au https://www.samaelpelletier.com/store et suivez-moi sur Spotify, OU 2. Achetez le CD de Cascadia sur mon site web ou lors du concert de lancement à Edmundston ce vendredi. Toute personne qui effectue l'une de ces actions sera automatiquement inscrite au tirage. Date limite : 5 octobre, 23h59. MULTIPLIER X4 VOS CHANCES DE GAGNER! Inscrivez-vous à ma newsletter et obtenez jusqu'à 4 chances de gagner ! Les abonnés à la newsletter peuvent être réinscrits au tirage, même après avoir gagné, pour remporter jusqu'à quatre prix (discographie, cours de musique, t-shirt ou partitions). Les non-abonnés ne peuvent gagner qu'une seule fois. (La newsletter sera réservée aux annonces importantes ou aux offres exclusives.) Ne ratez pas cette opportunité!	SHOP_NOW	https://www.samaelpelletier.com/store	Samael Pelletier	https://www.facebook.com/samael.pelletier/	869	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	www.samaelpelletier.com	VIDEO		https://www.samaelpelletier.com/store	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461324129_4475424056021836_7082315617684025026_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IVg0SlrpjqYQ7kNvgEjdOiM&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AFYUfKrAicbB_xJNyddBqn4&oh=00_AYB2LrTgCCUYDxnFNhWNZGiEHFpCfQBdsjF8Svpl9xdQsw&oe=670113D5	PERSON_PROFILE	Samael Pelletier	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

Page 21 of 94, showing 20 record(s) out of 1,874 total

Download CSV New Ads

Search

Ads for foobar on 2024-09-30